3

Selah carefully gathered the shards of glass and deposited them in the waste chute. She turned to survey the area again. How did the vase travel six feet across an open space to smash into the wall? She gathered the scattered, broken flowers and added them to the trash. Another beloved thing lost.

Her ComLink vibrated. Treva’s icon flashed green.

Selah bit her lip and answered. Treva’s frantic face popped onto the screen.

“What in the world is going on? I felt such a mental rush from you it nearly drove me to the deck as I was getting on the shuttle. I must say, having an educator stumbling around looking drunk is not a desirable characteristic.”

Selah looked at her friend with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault! I’m mad, hurt, and scared all at the same time. My family, Bodhi, even my beautiful cornflowers—”

“Stop! I don’t want to know about them. I want to know about you! What was that? You sent so much energy at me it felt like an explosion.”

“I-I don’t know. All I remember is a flash . . . and my flowers exploded against the wall.” Selah blinked a few times. Light-headedness overtook her for a second, then subsided.

Treva tipped her head to the side. “How did your flowers get destroyed? In a flash, like lightning or something?”

“No . . . yes . . . maybe . . . I think the flash was only in my head. But the vase smashed against a wall six feet from my desk.”

“This is not good. Have you noticed any other changes, vibrations in your extremities, shifts or rippling in your vision, or anything like a blackout?”

“Just the flashes, and the return of the tremors. And my head lightening, like I’m floating on a wave.” She shuddered, then frowned. Where did the shudder come from? “Do you think I should report this to Glade?”

“No! You listen to me very carefully. We’re going to keep this to ourselves for the time being. Do you hear me? No one gets to know about this, not Glade, or Bodhi.”

Selah frowned. “What are you worried about?”

“It’s just intuition. Too many people are leaving us in the dark about what abilities and functions a novarium is supposed to manifest. I don’t think we should be sharing your progress.”

“I know you’re right, but I’m a jumble of raw emotions. I feel a little crazy sometimes. My head is trying to go in ten directions at one time.” A flash burst before her eyes. Selah blinked and squinted. Her heart thumped rapidly.

“Whoa, I felt that! Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just these strange lights keep popping up.” Her heart rate subsided.

“I need to study this, and you need a rest from all these distractions. Are you sure I can’t talk you into coming with me and Cleon? We’re taking a wagon in case Cleon spots any interesting vegetation and wants to gather samples. There’s plenty of room to bring your navigator for security, and the ride will give you time to relax.”

Selah glowered. She didn’t want security following her everywhere she went. That was why she had a trainer. Her new speed and agility made her competent to take care of herself. “Jaenen Malik is busy looking for my mother. I don’t need security. I’m beginning to think it was just a coincidence that we talked about security in Baltimore and then I needed it. I haven’t so much as had anyone look at me funny since I’ve been here.”

“So then you’ll come?”

“I don’t think so. Stone Braide is too close to the Mountain, and I really want to get back in the Repository. I’ve added at least a dozen questions to my search. It’s not all about me as a novarium. Now it’s a lot more about Landers in general, and how they acquired these abilities, and how many Landers there could be with no marks.”

“All right, but the offer stands. This shuttle is moving away from the Petrol City platform. I should land in TicCity in about twenty minutes or so. Bye.” Treva’s link disconnected.

Selah leaned against the glass wall again and looked out over the water at the gas rig platform, Petrol City, anchored fifteen miles out at sea. Its geodesic dome encompassed a circular mile of self-governed real estate and grew from the ocean like a ripe pimple on an otherwise harmonious seascape. It didn’t appear threatening, but sometimes she felt strange vibrations coming from there when she and Treva mind-jumped.

Selah exited the left arm of the sprawling six-story, U-shaped complex and turned west to the bottom of the U where the Institute for Higher Learning was located. She stopped. The lure was too great. She turned back east, to her beloved sea, and strolled to the edge, mindful not to leave the walkway. Stepping on sand provoked the dreams.

She inhaled the briny taste of the salt air. The sea mist sparkled on her face as she glanced to the right, over petrified wooden remains jutting from the water like tipsy soldiers. To the left, shoreside amusements were driven deeply into the sand with only horseshoe-shaped metal skeletons exposed to 150 years of elements. The ancient tsunami had scrubbed most buildings from the landscape, leaving only a single remnant—a huge wedge of rusting metal with the word ball partially buried by the shifting sands at the water’s edge.

She turned back. The enormous building complex that housed her, most of the local Landers, and the university and Repository had risen in her level of curiosity. Even as far back as one hundred years before the Sorrows, this was called the Dennis Hotel and rumored to be the original home of a Lander.

The U opening faced the sea and the ends had been scrubbed off by the tsunami, then later replaced with two conical glass-composite fronts that extended above the building as solar collectors. The part Selah liked—the Repository—was rumored to have secret levels.

A sudden flash. Her knees buckled. She reached out, first missing then catching the post at the end of the walkway. Selah steadied herself and took a long breath. This one came without warning. Usually she felt a tingle first. The flashes were getting closer together. She gripped the post with both hands. The feeling passed. About five seconds later, she felt as though it had never happened. Selah wondered if these little events were actually happening or whether her subconscious was driving her. Maybe she had more guilt than she’d realized over Bodhi’s loss of abilities.

She turned back and followed the pale composite pathway that wound through groupings of trees and grassy areas in the courtyard of the tall glass-and-stone complex. Up ahead, a group of several well-dressed young women milled about on the grass and benches outside the archaeological studies section.

Selah vaulted the steps at the front and hurried inside. The cool air was a refreshing welcome to the heat radiating from her face. Lately, every time she went to see Glade, she started to sweat. If she had to read her own body-speak, she’d say she was scared. She knew how he’d been lately, trying to discourage her from prying into the past. But he hadn’t rescinded her Repository access, so that was a plus. She needed more details to refine her searches through the millions of files.

She brushed sweat from her cheeks and peeked in Glade’s office. Empty. Her crepe-soled shoes padded silently across the mosaic-tiled floor to the third door. She grabbed the handle of the heavy mahogany door with both hands and pulled, then entered the teaching theater.

Class was not in session, but she saw Glade’s notations on the digital boards spread across the front of the room, and him sitting at a desk in the center. As usual he was engrossed in maps and manuscripts spread across the large surface in front of him. She stopped. Her shoulders tightened.

Bodhi sat across from Glade at another table off to the right. He must have heard the door closing behind her and looked up. He lowered the data cube from his vision. A smile crossed his face, then disappeared as she moved closer.

Selah sauntered down the long length of stairs, staring back at Bodhi as she descended to the front of the funnel-shaped room. He seemed a little thinner, or was it her imagination? She’d seen him a half hour ago, but his gauntness hadn’t made an impression. His blond hair was forever in need of a major trim, his mark showing between the loose curls blocking part of his face. His eyes were still clear multi-hues of blue . . . but his cheeks had started to contract. She wanted to walk to him, but she stopped at her father’s desk.

“Glade, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Have you been holed up here the whole time?”

No answer. The documents possessed his full concentration.

She knocked on the table surface.

He flinched, and a shock of dark hair slid from behind his right ear and obscured his face. He pushed the hair back in place and looked up. For being at least 150, Glade looked no older than forty. With his olive complexion and green eyes, he was a stunning example of a middle-aged man, but he had no interest in a social life—to the distress of a certain local woman who had tried to invite Selah and him to dinner.

“Oh, it’s about time you got here. I thought I told Bodhi to tell you to hurry.” He turned back to the map.

Selah jerked her head in Bodhi’s direction and scowled. “He didn’t—”

“I didn’t have a chance to tell her—”

“Before he had to leave!” Selah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Bodhi.

Glade looked up again. “Bodhi, I would like to talk to my daughter alone. Meanwhile, check on our travel arrangements, please.”

Bodhi rose from the table and ambled close as he moved toward the door at the other end of the digital boards. He looked down at her as he passed. She felt his breath on her face . . . and then he was gone. Her breath caught.

She looked back at Glade, who was again absorbed in studying a map. She slid onto the stool beside his desk and sneaked a glance at the old maps and charts in front of him, wrinkling her nose at their musty smell. She decided to play along. “What did you want me for? Why didn’t you just mind-jump with me?”

Glade pressed his index finger to the yellowed map and looked up. “Please don’t connect with me through thoughts. It unnerves me to feel someone probing my mind after so many years of having the ability suppressed while I was in the Mountain. But I needed to tell you that Bodhi is going with me on this trip, and so is Taraji as our navigator. So you won’t have training sessions for a few days.”

Selah straightened and lifted her chin. “I’ve passed my training and moved on to the next phase of individual sets, so I don’t have a defined schedule. I’m self-directed.” Selah waved a finger. “Why are you taking Bodhi? And don’t think you got away with sneaking in a trip announcement that way. Where are you going?”

“Bodhi has decided he has no other destination, and all men need jobs to live. He understands it’s in his best interest to help me in helping you. I have maintained 150 years of funds that are more than sufficient to pay his worth,” Glade said.

Selah’s heart pounded against her ribs. She worked hard at containing her joy of Bodhi staying in TicCity, but she worried about his emotional state. Neither Glade nor Bodhi liked the other all that much, so it surprised her to think they could work together without coming to blows. She hesitated to comment, only to preserve Glade’s almost pleasant mood. “You left off the trip part of my question. Do you really think it’s possible after all these years to find passage to the West? Wasn’t anyone looking while you were in captivity?”

For a moment, Glade’s forehead glistened as though he might start to sweat. He brushed a hand across his brow. “Getting to the West and finding the Third Protocol—that last important set of Landers—is paramount now that you’ve been transitioned to a novarium. I had hoped to have more years to explore the data before you became of age, but it didn’t work out that way. No one looked while I was gone because there are very few First Protocols left here. TicCity has become mostly newer Lander generations that don’t have the commitment to old ways they’ve grown to consider myth and fallacy. The few marked Landers who were prisoners in the Mountain with me are just about all of the originals in our northern group who have survived this long.”

“So that’s why I don’t see head markings among these people other than you, Bodhi, and the random stranger passing through.”

Glade nodded. “Most of these Landers are a second generation of intermarriage. They actually place Bodhi and me higher up on the authority scale because we are among the two Protocols of originals.”

Selah tipped her head. “How can people tell the difference between a First Protocol Lander like you and a Second Protocol Lander like Bodhi?”

Glade smiled. “Have you ever really looked at our head markings? They are quite different to the knowledgeable observer.”

Selah filed it in her list of things to do. She leaned back on the stool, maintaining a perfect balance, just shy of touching the digital board. She felt a sudden surge of energy and her extremities warmed. “How come you’re talking all of a sudden? This is more than you’ve told me about Landers since I arrived here.”

“I’ve spent so many years lying and covering our tracks that it’s almost part of me now. I even find myself doing it with you, and I don’t want that kind of relationship. We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot lately, and I think if I’m more forthcoming with you, then you won’t need to waste all your time ensconced in the Repository.”

There it was! Call it cynicism, but Selah knew there was a reason for his sudden change—to get her to give up on her file searches. But she loved him as her father, so she decided graciousness was the better answer. “I’m glad you’re willing to open up. Where are you going on this search and how long will you be gone?”

Glade looked over his magnifying tool. “We’re headed into what used to be New York. Probably three or four days. We’re trying to match symbols, so the longest part will be the trip there and back, but we’ve got the Council’s fast transportation at our disposal since this is so important.”

“How do the Appalachians or getting to the West help me? The truth this time.” She had to take a couple of good breaths to stop the grin trying to overtake her face. First Bodhi was staying, and now they were all going to be out of the city at the same time. She could explore all she wanted in the Repository.

Glade removed his reading lenses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The Appalachian Mountain range is very important, my princess. During the Sorrows, it protected the eastern coastal plains from the ravages of the Yellowstone super volcano. We’re looking for the opening to the West. Documents tell us there will be an opening. In my time I’ve searched from here all the way to the northern end of this safe zone. We’ll finish the search of the northern end as we cross into the tiny strip that’s the only place left in New York.”

“Why do you care? The rest of New York and North America are covered yards deep in ash. The land is barren and uninhabitable.” Selah swept her hand over the maps, trying secretly to get a sideways look at them. Every time she showed interest, Glade rolled them up, which just piqued her curiosity more.

Glade rubbed his brow. “It’s time to tell you, but to say I don’t have all the facts sounds like sheer lunacy.”

“Tell me what?” Selah straightened.

He looked down. “When Bodhi transitioned you to a novarium, it started a chain reaction that needs to be completed by you connecting with a Third Protocol Lander, who we can only find in the West.”

Selah started to laugh. “You really had me going. I thought you were going to be serious this time.”

Glade sat stone-faced. “I am serious. Much of the data and even the reasoning for this process have been lost and sometimes deliberately sabotaged to misdirect the searches. I’ve got bits and pieces of a very long story that I don’t have time to go into.”

Selah stood. “So that’s all you’re going to tell me?” She blinked hard. Her head felt light from standing so fast.

“I don’t know any more that would really help you at the moment.”

“So what’s this process happening to me?”

Glade shook his head. “I don’t know. We were subjected to mind-altering drugs before we left the Mountain 150 years ago. They gave us a folder afterward telling us our basic information and showing us a video where we all agreed to do this. To protect the integrity of the operation, we won’t get to fill in all the blanks until we find the Third Protocol and the process is finished.”

Selah took that opportunity to look over the map. There were several dotted lines coming from the sea that converged in the area of Dominion. Another map blocked her from seeing their origin. She wanted to study the map, but he’d eventually look up if she didn’t keep talking.

Selah played with the corner of the offending map, rolling and unrolling the edge. “Then what does novarium mean?”

“It means you are the new one. The one who holds the keys to the kingdom.”

Selah knit her eyebrows together. “Riddles, you’re talking in riddles.”

Glade looked at her like he was having second thoughts about sharing. “That’s all you need to understand right now. And no, to answer your question before you ask, other Landers don’t know more about being novarium than you do. They’re guessing and perpetuating myths that have grown up in the absence of facts.”

Selah’s fingers stopped in mid-roll. “But historical accounts said the four states positioned in the ring of the volcano caldera were blown to pieces. No one could have survived. You think there are people alive for us to find, on the other side of the country?”

Glade sighed. “At this point, our existence depends on it.”

Instead of raising her voice at another of his riddles, she bit her lip and took a deep breath. “Then at least explain why you won’t help me find data on how to get Bodhi help with his lost abilities.” Selah hoped his generous mood might extend a little longer.

“You’ve only known him for the three months since your Birth Remembrance. Why do you want him? He came here as a Second Protocol Lander. There are at least half a dozen young men in this community who are the third and fourth generation of our First Protocol. They are more in line with the type of man you should be with.”

“I love Bodhi.” Selah felt the words stick like a heavy lump in her throat.

Glade looked over at her. “What do you know of love? You’re too young.”

“I know how I feel when I’m with him. I know how my insides get all jumbled up and that I feel flushed.” Selah cringed at opening up that way to her father, but she had to make him understand.

“And how do you know that wasn’t just the changes of turning novarium coming over you? The reorganization of nerve fibers and biometric connections?”

Selah opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. How ironic that she was being asked not to trust her feelings for a man she’d known only three months . . . by another man she’d known only three months. Then again, Glade was the only other person who could help her with the cryptic file code Jaenen had given her.

And how did she know the difference between love and turning novarium? She was willing to take the chance on it really being love, but she wasn’t willing to gamble that the file detailing the condition affecting Bodhi would still be available if she asked Glade to help her get it. She decided to stay silent.

Glade averted his eyes again and ran his hand across his chin. He mumbled something she couldn’t hear.

“What did you say?” Selah continued to absorb details from the map.

“I said Bodhi is useless to you now. You need someone who still has their abilities to help protect you. There’s a long journey ahead to the West, and there are going to be many trying to stop you from reaching the Third Protocol.” Glade’s voice came out agitated and abrupt. “I’m your father and I will guide your path on this.”

Selah’s head snapped up. She shook with anger. “You forfeited the right to guide my path the day you walked away.”

Glade went back to his work. “Bodhi didn’t come here with the mandate I’ve been given. His job is done. My remaining purpose is to get you on the other side of the mountains to the Third Protocol. That has to succeed above all else. Lives—a thousand years of lives—depend upon my completion of this task. I’ve been thwarted for the last eighteen years. Time is running out, and I make no apologies.”

“So no one or nothing is more important than your plans.” She glanced at him one more time. His eyes suddenly appeared tired, and he looked like he was aging before her eyes.

Selah stormed up the stairs and pushed her way through the heavy door. She wanted to slam it so the sound would echo, so it would make her feel better, but with the restrictors that closed it slowly, all she could manage was a soft thud. Not at all satisfying.

Just as she reached the outside, her ComLink sounded. She punched the key, missed it the first time, and dug her fingernail into her arm.

She winced and tried again. Treva’s face popped onto the screen, large and close. “Listen,” she said in almost a whisper. “I couldn’t talk freely before. Don’t go near MedTec, and meet me at the transport. I have to tell you what I just found out.”