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After the incident with Lady Black, I had this constant, nagging feeling that someone stood right behind me, watching me. Stalking me. If I really did have the plague, then I could only guess that this was the onset of a delusion that I was somehow important enough to warrant special attention. Or maybe I was just paranoid; the Health Scan was less than twenty-four hours away.
My bedroom door rattled and I looked up from my biology book. Faint, golden light traced my desk, highlighting the leaves of my plant and trailing along the edge of my bookcase. As I stared at it, the doorknob rattled again, followed by a new, chinking sound of metal. I scooted from my chair and checked the door’s peephole, but no one was there.
Maybe the air pressure was playing with the hinges. I opened the door and stuck my head into the hall. A couple students passed by, but they’d been too far back to even touch the door.
I sighed. I wasn’t getting any studying done here anyway, so I grabbed my coat from my bed and headed downstairs with my biology book. An agent nodded to me on my way out. I forced a smile before scurrying around the corner of the building.
Golden light seeped through the clouds, highlighting the tops of trees. Sidewalk lamps flickered on, each a pale, cold blue against the evening sky. The harsh wind carried the warm smell of soup from the cafeteria across campus.
I pulled my jacket tight and went straight to my usual reading spot. A tiny bit of ivy clung to the wall, out of sight from maintenance, and I tickled its leaves. Such a cute plant. I nestled onto the stone bench nearby, then set my book in my lap and tried to absorb myself in my studies.
The sky was nearly dark when an elderly man cleared his throat, interrupting my train of thought. I glanced up from the book. “Can I help you?”
“Would you mind if I shared the bench with you?” he asked.
There was plenty of room, though why he’d want to sit here, I wasn’t sure. Given the sharp business attire and his trim, salt-and-pepper beard, he probably belonged to the business class of E-Leadership. Maybe he was here to speak in a lecture. His face was tired, and he leaned against a simple cane, so I scooted over. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” I noted.
“I’m just visiting.”
I frowned. He didn’t elaborate, so I tried again to focus on my book. Just as the chapter started to get interesting, the old man suddenly made a motion as if to tug at his hair. “Plan on joining E-Leadership?”
Hair? E-leadership? It took me a moment to realize that he was referring to my hair being dyed in the same manner as a few E-Leadership members. “Oh, no—I accidentally over-bleached it.”
If “accidentally” meant purposely forgetting to look at the clock before starting the process... then yes, accidentally. It didn’t look half-bad, and it wasn’t one of the same natural colors that everyone else had. I’d cut my hair too short intentionally, just below my chin, and last I checked, my hair looked near-white. The style wasn’t technically regulation—I’d gotten a firm reprimanding from Ivan to go to a hair dresser next time—but it wasn’t so bad as to merit a deduction of efficiency points, either.
The old man rested against his cane, casting a wayward look to the end of the alley. “Good,” he murmured. “It’s hard to join E-Leadership if you fail the scan.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Why would I fail the scan?”
He touched the bit of ivy growing from the wall and I recoiled. The ivy shivered under his hand, shaking as much as I was. I stared at it, shocked.
A worried smile crossed the old man’s face. “You’ve been hallucinating, haven’t you?”
I shook my head, trying to get the words out of my throat so I could deny the accusation, but they wouldn’t come.
“Don’t worry, Jenna. I see it, too. But your hesitance makes you look guilty.” He lowered his hand from the vine. “You need to speak faster. Otherwise you’ll be caught.”
I closed my book slowly. The chill of the stone seeped into my legs. How did he know my name? I needed to get out of here, but if he knew I didn’t take the pill, he might tell security—
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” He clasped his hands overtop his cane. “I know we’ve never met, but your father could have at least kept a picture of me.”
A gust of wind swept though the alley and rustled my jacket. “What do my parents have to do with this?”
“I’m your grandfather,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Impossible.” I scooted to the edge of the bench. There were agents all over this campus. All I had to do was scream and they’d come running.
Or I could run. I was good at running.
“Please let me continue,” he urged, and an overwhelming desire to listen flooded through me. His voice rose in a hurried pitch. “You’re in danger. You have to trust me. If you don’t—”
“Trust you? Are you kidding? I don’t have to trust anyone!” I pointed to his cane. “For all I know, you’ve got a sword in there!”
The man’s eyes darkened. “It would be foolish of me to come unarmed.” His free hand pushed back his jacket, revealing a pistol at his side. My jaw dropped.
“Jenna, listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you.” He reached his hand for me but I staggered off the bench. “What you saw wasn’t a hallucination. Theophrenia is a lie to conceal various powers. You’re a plant elemental. You can control plant growth. Because of that, you won’t pass the Health Scan.”
“Plants?” I whispered. Voices shouted in the distance.
“Listen...” He stood quickly, pausing as he glanced toward the voices. “Walk with me.”
I clutched my book to my chest and stood nervously. “Where to?”
“Just walk.” He motioned the opposite direction of the voices. I followed, and he drew closer. He kept his head low, yet managed to retain his confident posture, as if we were just talking. “Try controlling a vine or grass. Just try it. See what happens.”
“What’s supposed to happen?” I asked. “I can’t mentally control plants. That’s impossible.”
“Not impossible. Not when you’re a plant elemental.”
We came to the end of the building and I faltered. The old man had led me behind the dormitory to the side with few windows and only the basic security lights. Unlike the main path, this alley was already dark.
I stopped walking, and the old man turned to look at me. “Jenna, please. We don’t have much time.”
In the distance, boots thumped against the cobblestone path. My heart pounded in my ears. I edged backward. “I’d rather stay in public.”
A female voice sounded behind the old man. “Pops, we’ve got to go.”
I spun, trying to see the source, but the alley was empty except for me, the shadowy space between buildings, and the old man.
“Please—” he begged, grabbing my arm. His fingers dug into my skin. “Come with me. I may not have another chance to help you.” For a strange, surreal moment, he disappeared, and so did I. Looking down, I couldn’t see my hands or my book. I felt his hand grip my arm, but he wasn’t there.
I yanked my arm away, then swung my book where the old man’s ribs should’ve been. The book hit something, but the grunt that sounded was female and the old man reappeared.
“A textbook? Really?” the female voice protested.
Two security guards rounded the corner as I stumbled back, swinging my book in case whoever I hit was still around. The old man spotted the guards, his eyes wide. He stretched his hand toward me. “Jenna, come on!”
He seemed so determined. I needed to hear him out. I needed—
A bullet cracked the air. Red liquid bloomed on the upper arm of his jacket, and the female voice cursed. The guards turned, searching for the source of the voice, but the alley was still empty of anyone except for the old man and me—
It finally dawned on me that the old man was bleeding. I rarely saw blood, except when someone injured themselves during track. It was mesmerizing in a horrible way. The old man clutched his arm and hunched to the ground. He muttered a curse word I hadn’t heard since Dad dropped a desk from the living room onto his toe.
The guard, one of Lance’s professors, cocked his gun for a second shot. “You are under arrest.”
A few students gathered at the end of the alley to watch the commotion. I slipped between the old man and the guards. What if he really was my grandfather? He looked familiar.
“Who is he?” I asked.
“Keep back.” The guard motioned to the pistol at the old man’s side. “This man is dangerous.”
I eyed the blood on the old man’s arm. He gritted his teeth, his free hand pressed against the wound. Goosebumps rose on my neck. Despite that moment where I couldn’t see myself, and the creepy alley, something about his insistence and determination to talk made me want to know why. “Where are you taking him?” I asked.
“The coolers. Stand aside while we handle this.”
I ran my fingers along the little dents in the textbook’s smooth surface. “He said I’m in danger.”
The guard raised his chin. “Probably has dementia, too.”
Considering how the old man had talked to me, they’d probably execute him on charges of delusions of grandeur. He was too old to be worth the time for treatment.
One guard moved toward the old man while the other came and stood beside me. “You need to come with us for questioning,” he told me.
“Wait—what?” I stared at him, horrified. “But I didn’t do anything!”
The guard’s eyes narrowed and he clamped his hand around my wrist. “You were talking to an unidentified man who shouldn’t be on campus. Anything you know about him may prove useful to our investigation.”
The old man didn’t struggle despite the indignant look he gave the guards as they retrieved something from his pocket and then jabbed a needle into his arm. A moment later, the old man slumped, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.
The guard hefted him up, muttering, “the Community is safe.” The second guard turned to me. “Now, Miss Nickleson, I have a few questions I need answered.”
“That won’t be necessary,” a lilting voice interrupted, “though your concern is appreciated.”
The old man’s eyes widened in horror. “Jenna, she’ll trick you! Her power is persuasion. Her power—” He trailed off as he lost to whatever they’d drugged him with.
Lady Black stood behind the guard, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her dress fluttered softly, and the diamond pendant she wore dangled from her neck, glinting in the overhead lights like some oversized identity charm.
What was she doing here?
The guard straightened quickly, his eyes wide. “But, my lady, protocol says—”
“Special Forces has information on this man. He was stalking Miss Nickleson. Now that you have him in custody, he is no longer a threat.” She smiled. “Have faith in our system. The Community is safe.”
The guard’s grip lessened on my arm, then relaxed altogether. “Of course, my lady,” he murmured, dazed. “Of course the Community is safe.”
“The Community is secure. Why don’t you aide your partner with the suspect?” she suggested. “A pair of agents will be along shortly to assist you.”
He nodded feverishly, and together the guards braced the old man on their shoulders and dragged him along the path toward the outer road.
I turned to Lady Black. “What did he mean, your power is persuasion?”
“Theophrenia, dear. He’s delusional.”
“Jenna!” Lance pushed through the crowd and joined me at my side. “Are you all right? What happened?”
I blinked, noticing the huge size of the crowd for the first time. Sam stood between two large, brawny guys. She giddily pointed to her phone as it replayed the evening’s event, but the guys looked more in shock than excited. Amidst the crowd, Commander Rick stroked his chin, watching me like I was some sort of prey. The sapphire and brass pendant around his neck sparkled in the bright lights along the building. A silvery pistol gleamed at his side.
The guards might make the Community safe, but... “The old man said I was in danger and would fail the Health Scan,” I accused the commander. “What did he mean?”
“Relax,” Lady Black crooned, brushing my cheek with her gloved hand. “You’ll do fine.”
As much as I wanted to pull away from her touch, I closed my eyes. She was safe. I wanted her to stay with me, to protect me from the old man and theophrenia. Her touch was comforting and secure...
“Trust me,” she whispered.
I smiled and swayed, dizzy with warmth. Of course I trusted her. She was an international leader. Why wouldn’t I trust her?
Ivan shooed the other students from the scene. “Thank you, my lady. Commander. The Community is safe.” He looked to me. “Why don’t you go inside? You’ll feel better in the morning.”
I murmured affirmation. Lady Black kissed my forehead and stroked her hand through my hair. “Yes, Miss Nickleson. Come along. Perhaps I could keep you company until your nerves have settled?”
My cheeks warmed, but Commander Rick cleared his throat. The lady pouted at him, then whispered goodnight and returned to the path beside him. Together they disappeared into a cluster of Special Forces agents who walked them through the courtyard.
A sullen cold settled over me, dull and hazy from the loss of... well... I wasn’t quite sure.
Lance lifted my chin. “You look tired. Why don’t I get you back to your room?”
I shook my head. My nerves tingled, frazzled. For all the leaders’ fancy clothes and proper manners, they were like history professors who said the same thing over and over again.
What had the old man said about Lady Black? Persuasion?
I pressed my hands against the cold stone at the edge of the building and watched until the leaders were out of sight.
“Odd,” Lance murmured. “That guard shouldn’t have let you go.”
I glowered at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“But it’s true! He should’ve had you tested for theophrenia, both you and the old man.”
I frowned. Lance was right. It didn’t matter that an international leader had given me clearance, the test was protocol. So why hadn’t the guards followed it?
Cool blue efficiency lights lit the now-empty path, but those lights didn’t eliminate the feeling that I was being left in the dark.
“Come on, Jen,” Lance urged softly. He guided me past the onlookers and the maintenance man who had arrived to clean away the blood. The reminder of tonight’s incident would be gone by morning.
Very efficient.
I crossed my arms. “That old man was trying to talk to me. Warn me about something.”
“He was delusional.”
“Why come to me then? What made me so special?”
“I don’t know. You might be able to find out more tomorrow.” Lance pushed me through the glass doors and up the stairs.
“Why couldn’t they have told me tonight?”
“It’s a security thing.”
“So is checking me for theophrenia.”
Lance groaned. “I’ll see you at tomorrow morning’s meeting, okay, Jen?” He stopped in front of my room and nudged my shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. I’m next door.”
I sighed. “Your sword isn’t going to help.”
“Why not? I’ve been practicing. Got to make up for everyone else using guns.”
“Think there might be a reason for that?” I glared at him, but couldn’t hold back an appreciative smirk. “Guns are more efficient.”
“Yeah.” He squeezed my hand and poked my cheek. “But it got you to smile.” He winked, then disappeared into the adjacent room.
I snorted. Some help he was. The conversation just reminded me of all the agents crawling around campus.
I shut the door behind me and dropped my biology book into my backpack, then crawled under the cold sheets. I’d heard of agents using the occasional odd weapon—a sword, a crossbow, a mace—I’d even seen one agent who carried a whip. But most of them used rifles. More efficient, really.
But Lance had his sword that he practiced with in his room, and it was mostly by accident that I knew it was sharpened. One of those little rules we knew the other broke.
I paused. How many agents normally attended the Health Scan?
Two international leaders?
The old man?
I frowned, staring at the sliver of ceiling that was visible in the window’s light, then slid out of bed and flipped the light switch. A new, white flower blossomed on the spiderette of my potted plant, but it shouldn’t have been blooming; it was night.
I lifted the thin stem and laced it around my finger, careful not to break it. “He said I was a plant elemental,” I murmured. But, for the love of the Community, I had no clue what that meant. I closed my eyes, picturing the plant moving like it did before lunch.
The stem snaked across my wrist. I gasped and jerked my hand away. People with theophrenia thought they could do strange things, like the guy who thought he could control fire. Doctors even said that people could share in their delusions. But the old man had seen the plant move before I said anything.
He knew too much to be some random guy.
I opened my phone, searched through EYEnet for the family database, and then checked the Nickleson family tree.
There I was: Jenna Nickleson, with plain photographs of my parents above me. Mom’s parents were both living, and they had their familiar pictures under her profile.
But Dad’s parents—
Dr. Nickolai Nickleson; 2006-2051;
Cause of Death: Theophrenia
For all that the old man was considerably older than the picture in the database, the similarities were striking. Dark brown eyes. Same facial structure—and I’d gotten a good look when I’d spoken with him in the alley. If it weren’t for being dead, the old man could easily have been my grandfather.
I flopped on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The day’s events raced through my mind: the moment I couldn’t see myself, the gunshot, Lady Black’s weird ability to persuade the guards, the moving plants...
There was only one logical explanation.
I had theophrenia.
