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Instantly a face popped up on the panel.

It
wasn't Carson though.

It was
Alicia.

. . . .

Nida
had to swallow something that tasted suspiciously like
disappointment, then she tried for a smile. “Yeah?”

“I
need you to come help me now,” Alicia said dramatically.

Before
Nida could worry whether her flat mate was in serious trouble,
Alicia took another overwrought breath.

“My
other friends have cancelled on me. Left me in the frigging lurch,
the bastards,” Alicia spat.

“Ha?
What's the problem?” Nida asked, realising she was definitely being
roped into something, but she was too tired to do anything about
it.

“How
are you feeling?” Alicia asked, her eyes darting up and down as she
appeared to assess the image of Nida she'd be receiving on whatever
panel she was using to make the call.

“Ah, a
little like hell,” Nida admitted.

There
was a lengthy pause. “How much like hell?

“Where
is this going?” Nida asked perceptively.

“Basically, I need a hand. I've been asked to help out with an
event for the E Club, and now I’m roping you in too.”

Nida
stood there and let her expression reveal all.

She
was not going.

The E
Club? Was Alicia out of her mind?

Apparently, because she shoved her face right up close to the
holo panel. “You’re coming,” she said with supreme
finality.

“Alicia, are you nuts? The E
Club . . . and me? Yeah, that’s not going to
work. I’m going to walk in the door and be dumped right back out on
my ass,” Nida crossed her arms sternly.

“They
are not that bad,” Alicia pointed out with a huff.

“Not
that bad?” Nida questioned after a lengthy pause. “They're snooty
elitists. The best of the best at the Academy. The popular, the
smart, the beautiful, the strong, and the talented.”

“You’re point?”

“I don’t belong
there. No,” Nida corrected quickly with a strong shake of her head,
“I don’t want to go there. I have better things to do with my
time.”

“Yeah,” Alicia’s voice was strained. “Of course you do. But
you’re coming to help. Because not only do I need a hand, I also
want to keep an eye on you. I don’t like the idea of you being in
that apartment all alone. Something
could . . . happen,” she took a step backwards,
her whole face coming into view. Her usually confident, if arrogant
expression became fractured with worry.

Nida
was ready to say there was no way she was coming, but she hadn’t
been prepared for that.

Alicia
didn’t look as if she were acting.

Still,
Nida wasn’t about to abandon reason and voluntarily attend an E
Club function. That would be like putting your hand up for several
hours of crippling social embarrassment. “Ah, I’d like to help,”
she lied, “but I feel terrible. I just need to sleep.”

Alicia
appeared to be calculating something. Perhaps she was getting ready
for a second assault, or maybe she was pausing to think of an even
better excuse to manipulate Nida with. Instead, she sighed. Loudly.
“God, you’re right. Of course you are. Never mind. But I’ll call
occasionally to check how you’re going.”

. . . .

Really?

Alicia
was going to give up just like that?

“Go
and get some rest,” Alicia smiled. It wasn’t even a bitter move;
she looked genuinely friendly, as if she’d dropped all attempts at
manipulation.

“Ah . . . okay,” Nida pushed her fingers
into her collar and pulled it away from her skin. “Are you
sure?”

“Yeah.
You need rest. Now go get it. I’ll tell you all about this event
when I get home,” Alicia announced happily.

“Right, okay. Have fun,” Nida managed as Alicia signed off,
leaving nothing but a black screen.

Nida
blinked at it for several seconds, closed her eyes, winked one
open, then shrugged her shoulders and moved off.

That
had been strange.

Alicia
was usually as determined as a pit-bull, but she’d changed her mind
with little protestation from Nida.

Muttering to herself as she walked away, Nida paused to stare
out at the view briefly.

It was
a glorious afternoon, and looked as if it would lead to a light and
breezy night.

While
everyone else in the city would be out enjoying it, she would be
wrapped up in bed.

It was
a little disappointing, but only a little.

All
Nida had to do to confirm going out was idiotic was to look at her
right hand, then over to her left one.

Whilst
her right hand had received the injury, it was her left hand that
perpetually felt . . . odd.

It
just didn't seem right, almost as if it wasn't entirely hers any
more.

As she
struck upon that thought, she realised it summed up what she was
experiencing perfectly: her left hand didn't feel entirely her own.
Which begged the question—who or what else did it belong
to?

Shivering at that extremely unsettling thought, Nida walked
into her bedroom, changed, and settled down on the
couch.

Before
she knew it, she dozed off.

And,
like usual, she dreamt.

This
time she wasn't on the planet; she was walking through the halls of
the Academy. As she wound her way along, she stretched out her left
hand, or rather, it stretched itself out. As it did, blue energy
cascaded over it, twisting and writhing as it played over every
centimetre of flesh.

She
pressed her fingers into the wall, and immediately the blue energy
shot into the smooth metal, burning and blistering it.

She
kept walking along, humming some kind of tune.

She
reached a classroom.

There
were people inside.

She
kept walking past them, but as she did, the blue electricity shot
from her hand, plunging into their chests.

There
was a snapping noise. Then screaming. Horrible, continuous
screaming.

She
couldn't see their faces.

She
didn't pause to watch them fall.

She
simply moved on.

She
kept walking the halls.

Then
security came.

They
ran towards her, guns levelled.

They
screamed at her to stop.

She
simply kept walking forward.

She
couldn't stop.

They
went to shoot her, but they didn't get the chance. With a swipe of
her left hand, every man and woman in the team lifted into the
air.

She
watched their faces contort in shock.

Then
she pointed one finger upwards. As energy crackled over her skin,
the floating security team shot upwards. With terrible, resounding
cracks, they slammed into the ceiling.

She
didn't wait.

She
didn't stop.

She
kept on walking.

As she
moved underneath them, little droplets of blood fell from the
ceiling onto her cheeks and hands.

. . . .

She
could not stop herself.

No
matter what she did.

She
kept on walking forward, destroying everything in her path, until
the real Nida screamed herself awake.

Carson
Blake

He was
at a total loss. He knew where he had to be tonight, but that
wasn't where he wanted to be.

He was
standing on the lawn between the accommodation buildings, staring
up at them glumly.

It
didn't take much effort to figure out which window belonged to
Nida.

Which
was creepy, right? Standing on the lawn and staring up at her room.
Yeah, that was kind of stalkerish.

“Come
on,” he whispered to himself, “get to the party.”

He
tried to coax himself forward. There was an E Club event, and he
had to attend. His friends would kill him if he didn't.

The
problem was it was all the way on the other side of town. It
definitely wasn't in Nida's room.

“Come
on,” he begged himself again. But no matter how much he coaxed his
body to turn and head to the nearest transport hub, the damn thing
wouldn't pay any attention.

She'd
outright told him last night not to bother her any more. She,
apparently, didn't need anyone checking up on her.

He
should respect her wishes.

. . . .

But
try as he might, he couldn't. Because, despite her protestations,
he didn't believe her.

He
couldn't shake the feeling she needed help.

Sometimes his friends accused him of having a hero complex.
This was different though. Nida wasn't his duty as an officer of
the Academy. And neither did he still feel guilty over failing to
prevent the accident in the training centre.

No,
none of that explained how he felt.

All he
could say was that he had this burning desire to check on her. He
knew it didn't make sense—the doctors had cleared her, and so had
the technicians—but it didn't matter.

Soon
he couldn't stop himself any more., and he angled towards her
apartment block.

With
every step towards it, he felt more and more guilty. She would
likely throw something at his head when he popped up at her door
uninvited, but at least he'd be able to confirm she was
fine.

Yeah,
that's all he had to do. Check to see that she was okay.

With
that decision offering him resolve, Carson made it all the way up
to her level.

Then
he paused outside her door.

It
took several painful seconds to muster up the courage to press that
intercom button.

Finally, he jammed his thumb against it.

Yet
before he could speak, the doors opened and someone barrelled
out.

Nida.

She
stumbled right into him, and he had to catch her before she fell
back. “Whoa,” he managed.

She
pulled herself from his arms, locked a hand on the door frame for
support, then blinked back her surprise.

Her
face was ashen. Her cheeks were slack, and there was a drawn,
almost vacant look in her eyes.

“Hey,
are you alright?” he'd been about to make a joke about her running
into him all the time, but it died on his lips.

She
looked haunted. Yes, that was the right word—haunted.

She
pushed a hand into her mouth, breathing through the crooked
fingers. Slowly she nodded.

“You
look terrible,” he told her truthfully.

“I'm . . . ,” she began.

Then
she stood there and appeared to make up her mind.

“Nida?” he prompted slowly.

“You
need to take me to the med bay,” she managed through a swallow. “I
mean, can you please take me to the med bay.”

He
didn't pause; he just nodded. “Sure. Come on.”

She
walked past him, the door to her apartment closing with a swish.
Then she stood there and took a very deep breath.

Her
left hand was clutched into a fist. In fact, clutched wasn't the
right verb to describe it; crumpled was better. The fingers were
closed so tight, it looked as if she caged something in place
against her palm.

She
caught him looking at it. “I . . . I don't
really know what's going on. Just need to go to the med bay,” she
mumbled.

“Can
you walk? Do you need a transport?”

“No, I
can walk,” she managed in a quiet voice, then demonstrated her
ability by turning and heading off down the corridor.

Her
shoulders were hunched forward, her left hand still clutched into a
fist by her side.

He
rushed up beside her. “What's going on?”

She
didn't answer right away. She simply stared at her feet as she
walked.

“Nida?”

“I
don't know,” she wouldn't turn to face him.

“Are
you sure I shouldn't call a transport?”

“I can
walk,” she whispered again.

He
fell into step next to her, and soon they made it to the
lifts.

There
were a few other cadets in the lift, and they all looked at Carson,
their surprise evident.

Then,
almost as one, their attention shifted to Nida.

She
wasn’t looking at anyone. Instead, she stood in the corner of the
lift, staring at the wall, her left hand so tightly clutched by her
side it seemed as if she would snap her arm.

Carson
took a step in front of her, trying to block everyone's view. He
cleared his throat properly.