Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) (21 page)

The Head Scientist pulls two stools out onto the floor. “George,” he says, indicating a stool. “Please have a seat.” He points to the other. “Roya.” I comply.

Pacing a circle around us the scientist begins, “Roya, you’ve no doubt noticed George is quite distant, right?”

He pauses, but I decide against answering.

“One might say George appears to be distracted, frustrated, and even angry at times. This is because he’s always had the ability to read people’s emotions.” With his head down and hands clasped behind his back the scientist has made one complete loop around us.

“However, there’s one hindrance to his ability and it showed up when you arrived. Mr. George Anders can’t read emotions when you’re around.” Aiden stops in front of me and points. “You disarm him.”

Me? How? Why? There must be a mistake.
Stunned, I turn to George. Sad eyes stare at the ground and broad shoulders slump in defeat. He’s hardly present.

The Head Scientist continues, “It’s your frequency, Roya. The level that your frequency vibrates blocks George’s ability to pick up on emotions. Actually, you block everything for poor Mr. Anders. Interesting, huh?”

More like bewildering.

He spins his gaze to George. “This hasn’t been very easy on Mr. Anders. How do you think you’d be acting if you met someone who turned your world upside down?” A spark radiates in Aiden’s eyes as we connect. He winks, making my insides grow warmer. I turn to George, relieved to find he didn’t witness this gesture. He doesn’t look as though he’d witness a missile if it struck the ground next to him. My mother would say he’s in la-la land.

As if to make up for George’s lack of life, Aiden ramps up his enthusiasm. “Naturally, you’d be completely and utterly distraught, which is why George appears to be a bit odd in demeanor. You see, your frequency isn’t only creating a disturbance in his ability to pick up on emotions, it’s creating interference with his senses. I hypothesize that your high vibrational frequency is overwhelming George. You’re all he feels and it’s actually too much, too strong for his intuitive ability to interpret—the way he has been able to with all other people his whole life. Pretty extraordinary, don’t you think?” Aiden cocks his head to the side and looks earnestly interested in my reply.

I remain silent.

The scientist continues, “However, I’ve determined the level at which your frequency vibrates. With the device you’re currently wearing I can change your frequency by just a fraction of a hertz. This isn’t much, but I think it will be enough to make the difference.”

Aiden rubs his hands together eagerly. “Please pay attention, lady and gentleman, because I’m about to make history.”

I eye the small box around my neck. George stares nervously at it too, his brown eyes wide. We both turn our attention to the eager scientist. With a large grin he says, “It’s show time!” He leans forward, his smile widening as he nears my face. I freeze. In one movement he picks up the device, pushes a tiny switch on the bottom of the black box, and stands back. Eyes narrowed, the Head Scientist turns to George gauging his reaction. I follow suit.

George’s face keeps the same pained expression it has worn for weeks. As I take in his dispirited stance all of his behavior begins to make sense. This is why he’d been hostile toward me and absent the rest of the time. He must have thought I was a demon of Zhuang’s, sent to steal his powers.

With my eyes intently on George I see the transformation happen at the most gradual level. His firm chin softens. Fixed jaw relaxes. Tight lips part. Intense stare calms and revolves around the room, moving from object to object until his expressionless face becomes animated and meets mine. I swallow and it feels like a wad of fabric. A different person has taken the place of the dejected guy who sat opposite of me moments ago. Now I see George Anders properly for the first time. Soft. Sincere. Understated. Strong. Present.

Transfixed on me, he stands. A smile spreads across George’s face. I’ve never seen one there. It shifts his brown eyes into something distinct and different, making his irises shine. It’s as though Frankenstein’s monster has just awoken, but he isn’t horrid at all. He’s the opposite. Suddenly I’m taking in every single ounce of this person who hardly existed moments ago.

George revolves his dark eyes until they find the Head Scientist standing triumphantly a few feet away. He starts forward, pulling Aiden’s dangling hand into his, wringing it earnestly. “Thank you,” George says in a low rush. “You did it.”

Aiden beams. “That’s fantastic! And the static, is it gone?”

George runs his fingers through his wavy blond hair. “Yes. Completely.”

“Your empathesis? Has it returned?” the scientist asks, sounding very clinical.

“I think so,” George says, looking pleasant but guarded.

“And your senses? How are they?”

He pauses, taking in a deep breath. The exhale is one of relief. “Normal. I feel like I can breathe after a long time of being suffocated.”

My heart folds up on itself and then free falls down to my stomach.

George turns at once pointing at me with his eyes. He’s the size of a linebacker but moves with agile grace. “Roya, you should know that what happened to me, what I went through, wasn’t your fault.”

Can he feel the ache erupting in my belly? Is that why he’s feeding me this line?

“What your frequency does to me, it’s random. Anyone could affect me this way. Don’t you think so?” George pivots and glances at Aiden for confirmation.

“It’s quite possible,” the Head Scientist offers but doesn’t look convinced.

“You see there.” George turns back and consoles me. “If anyone should feel sorry it’s me. I haven’t been kind to you. I was confused and disoriented, which is a poor excuse, but the only one I have.” An adorable dimple surfaces on his left cheek as he smiles at me coyly.

I nod, uncertain how to react. The guy in front of me is a complete stranger, and apparently has the ability to rummage through my emotions as frequently as I experience them. But I have the ability to disarm him. None of this is fair. However, I remind myself that those who speak of fairness are always on the losing side. Life is what I make of it. There are no odds on my side or luck to corral in my favor. I’m uncertain how this mentality is going to serve me in this predicament or my new life. Time will tell.

“Well, I dare say this has been a successful afternoon,” the Head Scientist says as he escorts us to the exit. “I have work to do and you two probably have some catching up.”

I hang back momentarily, waiting for one last hungry stare from Aiden. With his arms folded across his chest he gives a polite smile, the same one a neighbor casually offers when you see them on the street. I don’t return it, but instead turn and leave.

“Oh, and Roya,” Aiden calls behind me.

I whip around to face him.

“Please don’t take off the frequency adjuster.”

I nod curtly.

♦

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Samara questions at once, her whitish blonde hair lining her shoulders like a veil.

“What was I supposed to say?” George pokes at his green beans. “‘Roya’s making me delusional.’ It didn’t seem right. I wasn’t even certain it was Roya at first, but then every time she’d get near me the intensity in my head would become overwhelming, like it was about to explode. Fortunately Shuman figured it out and Aiden found a solution.”

“So as long as Stark wears that little box thingy then you’re fine? What happens if she takes it off?” Joseph asks, looking skeptical.

George sighs. “It’s unbearable. I hear loud vibrating noises, my senses go into overdrive, and I can’t pick up on the slightest emotional tone. All I feel is her and it’s overpowering.”

I stare at my brussels sprouts, knowing George and everyone at the table are focused on me. I’m the “her” who overpowers him, who puts him into a state of torment. Guilt scratches my skin like a Brillo pad.

George continues, “As soon as that necklace fired up the noise went away. I could feel emotions again.”

“But it’s only when Stark is around, right? So when she’s absent, can you sense and feel again?” Joseph questions.

“Yes and no,” George says, toggling his head back and forth. “This started a few minutes before Roya arrived in the auditorium on that first day. The closer she was to me the worse it got. I did get a bit of relief if she was farther away.” He turns to me, his expression composed, although the pain he’s harbored all this time still edges below the surface. “However, even if you’re on the first level and I’m on the fifth I still get interference.”

I catch Joseph eyeing George intently. He, like me, seems stunned by how George has transformed in the last hour. Joseph’s eyes probe George, looking for an answer to this impossible riddle.

“It was luck Roya and I weren’t in the same group in the beginning. I was able to perform well enough to make the alternate team.”

Luck?
Like he was fortunate? He’s first alternate now. If something happens to me then he’ll take my place and die. Is that luck?

George rubs his temples and then continues. “Although I felt the interference all along, it hadn’t been as excruciating until Trey called me up during the ceremony and I stood next to you on that stage.” George stares at me, looking apologetic and contrite. “From that point forward I thought I was going insane. Every meeting, training, practice, I was lost in this engulfing clashing of metal. It was awful.” His head sags. We all stare at each other around the table, lost for words. None of us know how to relate. Any words I offer are only to console my own discomfort. We all remain silent until George pulls his head back up. He focuses on me with solemn eyes. “I didn’t know how to react or overcome the torture in my head. I apologize for treating you poorly.”

Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I try to suppress them, but they won’t allow it.
How’s it possible that I have this effect on someone?

“Don’t guilt yourself,” George says with a deep expression.

That’s unfair. He can read me now.
I bite my lip. “It’s….” I hesitate, the audience around me hanging on my words, wondering how I’ll respond. “It’s just a lot to absorb.”

He leans forward and says, “Let’s put the past behind us now. We’re a team. And I want to help.” He looks directly at me, awaiting my answer.

I steal a glance at the others, who are looking at us with interest. It’s like they’re sitting front row, center stage at the best show in town, their mouths gaping open and brows furrowed. I turn back to George and offer him a gentle nod. I know he doesn’t need any more.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“H
ey, George,” I say in a higher pitch than I intended. I reason my nervous tone is a result of awaiting a torturous lecture with Ren.

“Hey.” He sits tall and turns in my direction.

The expression in his dark brown eyes stirs me to fill the silence immediately.

“So how are you?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer but instead stares at me, seeming to take measurements with his eyes.

Of course my nervousness might also be from George. It’s been there since he “awoke.” Since his penetrating gaze fixed in my direction I’ve felt outside myself, saying and doing stuff that isn’t like me. He makes me uneasy, and I’m uncertain if it’s because he can read my emotions or because of the intensity that seems to accompany our every interaction.

I avert his stare and mumble, “I’m dreading training with Ren.”

“I understand,” he says. I can’t help but catch the force in his eyes out of my peripheral.

“I wonder…” I say mostly to myself.

“What?” he clips sharply.

His tone cuts me and I look around for a way to be rescued from my attempts to make conversation. “Never mind,” I say.

“You wonder…” He leans across the table daring to separate us by only inches. “What do you wonder?”

I take in the details of the table in front of me, speculating now if they’ll rescue me from this awkward moment. Finally I decide on honesty. “I was just wondering what you feel from Ren. He appears to be such an unhappy person. I was wondering if it’s as awful as I imagine, feeling his emotions.”

He grabs a pencil from behind his ear and lays it next to his notepad, looking serious. “I can’t tell you that.”

“It must be dreadful.” I sigh.

“No.” He turns in my direction. “I can’t tell you that or anything else about what other people feel. How would you like it if I broadcast every emotional detail about you to anyone who asked? It would be an invasion of your privacy. It would be an abuse of my skill.”

“All right, forget I asked.” I turn and face the front. Guilt and embarrassment shoot through me.

He takes the pencil back in his hand and twirls it through his fingers. “Honestly, sometimes I wish I could tell someone everything I feel. It’s a lot at times, but it’s my burden.”

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine.” I agree as Ren blazes into the room.

With a flick of a remote the projector comes alive. “Today, my little lambs, we’re discussing the most important subject yet.”

A picture flashes on to the screen and stares back at us. It’s a drawing of a man. He’s Asian, has a receding hairline, and a braided ponytail that trails down his back. His long black mustache and goatee only partly hide an expression of power and arrogance. The man’s dressed in flowing black and white kimono and holds a long curved sword. His eyes are black, hollow.

“Please meet Zhuang.” Ren’s voice echoes around the room. “You can rest assured he’s already met you. If you’re in this room, then when you’ve rested, traveled, frolicked with your friends, Zhuang has been there eyeing you, trying to understand how you could be a part of the team eligible to take him down. He’s probably as baffled about this as I am.”

Ren sits on the edge of the desk, pulls out his pocketknife, and begins picking at his fingernails. “Legend has it Zhuang dreamed he was a tiny serpent. He traveled to a village where he slithered into a person’s ear while they slept. Lustful for command, he wrapped his body around their brain, absorbing its power. When he’d taken their life force he slinked out the other side of their head, leaving them dead. Each time he did this he became faster and stronger, but always remained the same size, for this was to his favor. Zhuang awoke and wondered how he’d dreamed he was a serpent able to steal consciousness. At the same time an incorporeal voice offered to Zhuang that he was dreaming he was a man, but actually someone capable of much more.”