Alex Armstrong: Awakening (20 page)

“Good morning, Alex. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” He turned to Eva. “My dear, well done in there.”

“It was higher than I expected,” she said.

“You were in good hands.” President Joyce took a seat and scooted forward. He placed his napkin on his lap and adjusted his glasses and nudged his water glass a fraction to the left. He sat with perfect posture.

Mandy set the drinks on the table along with a basket of freshly-baked muffins. She looked to be in her fifties. Her hair was thick and grey and tied in a knot. Her fingers were long and thin and very pale.

“Thank you, Mandy.”

“Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes, this is more than enough. You better get back to the Dining Hall. Make sure the bots aren’t burning the bacon.” He flashed a smile and off she went.

President Joyce watched her walk down the steps and toward the DH. “Mandy’s one of a handful of employees with no powers to speak of,” he said, turning back to Alex and Eva. “But her husband was a Palkin…‌quite gifted, in fact. And when he passed away at too young of an age, she contacted me and asked if there was anything she could do to help us here. She told me that this was the one place he kept talking about in his last days.” He took a sip of his coffee and set the mug gently on the table. “We’re lucky to have her.”

“Where does she live?” Eva said.

“The brick campus. We all live there.” He looked outside. “There she is. Please excuse me for a moment.” President Joyce was quick to his feet. He walked outside and leaned into the porch railing and called to one of the joggers below. An exceedingly fit woman with her hat pulled low and her dark hair tied in a ponytail stopped and looked up.

“I’ve seen her,” Eva said. “She teaches juniors and seniors.”

“She looks fast.” Alex lifted his glass and removed the damp napkin clinging to its base. He set it down without taking a drink.

“Sorry about that,” President Joyce said. He dabbed his forehead with his napkin. “So, where were we?”

“You were telling us about the other campus,” Eva said.

“Yes, that’s right. Would you believe that I have an entire building to myself?” He turned his mug so that the handle pointed just so. “My study is on the second floor. It has a wonderful view of Knightsville. I look forward to the day when I can spend more time there. Maybe even relax.” He took another sip of coffee. “Alex, what did you think of your Simtest?”

Alex straightened in his chair. “It was fun. Probably the coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

President Joyce smiled. “It
is
cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The sound system, the floor, the wall monitors…‌it was like a huge videogame. I’m really sorry about the drone, though.”

“Ha! Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Sonnier loves tinkering with that thing. He’s probably holed away in his office right now trying to glue it back together.” A muffin floated up and out of the basket and settled on President Joyce’s plate. He used his knife and fork and ate a small piece. “Alex, I thought your performance was exceptional. Power beyond your years.”

“Thank you.”

“But to be perfectly frank, I expected nothing less.”

Alex glanced at Eva.

President Joyce took another bite of his muffin and then placed his knife and fork at right angles on his plate. “Alex, your success here at Pal Tech was…‌predictable.”

“Why do you say that?”

President Joyce leaned forward ever so slightly. “Did your father ever tell you about the recruiter? The one that visited when you were just a toddler?”

Alex nodded.

“That was me.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “But—but the name he used wasn’t Chris. It was—”

“Luke. I used the name Luke. It’s my middle name.”

“But, why—”

“Why did
I
show up? Ah, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter.” He clasped his hands together, keeping his elbows off the table. “Well, first of all, I was much more involved with Pal Tech’s day-to-day activities back then, so going on recruiting trips was not unheard of for me. But even so, I made a special point to see you. Do you remember Professor Startsman telling you about the tests we performed on newborns?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alex, your scores were off the charts, far beyond even the Naturals in our database. To this day, you are the only telekin who can make that claim.

“So when I heard about you—this super baby down in Florida—I had to go. Had to see you with my own eyes. And you know what? Just being in the same room as you was all the proof I needed. Even at that young age, your presence was so strong; I’ve never felt anything like it. It was obvious that you would be special.”

Alex couldn’t hold eye contact. He knew Eva was staring at him, too, but what was he supposed to do, grin and give her a thumbs up? He traced his finger across the condensation on his glass. It was weird listening to someone who knew more about him than even his own dad. But that wasn’t fair to say. How could his dad know? Hell, he didn’t even know until he came to this school.

“How did he end up this way?” Eva said. “Why is Alex more like you than the rest of us?”

“I have a theory.” President Joyce waited for Alex to look up. “It’s personal, Alex. Are you comfortable with me sharing my thoughts in front of Eva?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask something like that. I can go. I’ll go.” She twisted in her seat and was about to stand when Alex grabbed her hand.

“No. Stay. I want you to stay.” The days apart made him realize how much he missed her. There was a feeling of comfort with Eva at his side. A feeling of completeness. Alex stared into her green eyes as he held her hand. She was so pretty. They turned to President Joyce in unison.

“Very well. Alex, I think your mom was a Natural.”

Alex started shaking his head. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

“Yeah, but…‌I mean, I know I never knew her, but I’d like to think my dad would’ve at least mentioned it. Especially considering where I am now.”

“I don’t think he knew. I don’t think your
mom
knew.” President Joyce looked at Eva and then back to Alex. “I did a little investigating after I met you and your father, spoke with your mom’s friends, her coworkers, even her parents. I learned that she had been suffering from migraines all her life; that she had always fought them with heavy medication.”

Without a word President Joyce sent the empty mugs and glass to the sink behind the countertop. He never took his eyes off Alex. “You know, when I was younger, a part of me was embarrassed about my abilities.”

Eva made a face.

“It’s true,” President Joyce said. “I don’t think there’s anything unusual about that. To a certain extent, we all just want to fit in. My point, though, is that there would be stretches—long stretches—when I wouldn’t use TK. Days at a time. And at the end of those stretches, I would always—
always
—develop a terrible migraine.

“I’ve since learned that this is a side effect common to all Naturals.” He removed his glasses and huffed on the lenses and put them on again. “Telekinesis is who we are. It defines us. It’s what our brains were meant to do. So when a Natural goes a length of time without using the mind as it was designed, the brain rebels, and the result is a terrible migraine.”

“But how did my mom not know that she was a telekin? I mean, how is that even possible?”

“Well, if I put my psychologist hat on, I would guess that it had something to do with her childhood. Perhaps she broke a few objects around the house when she was a toddler. Shattered a few special Christmas ornaments. Maybe even knocked over the China cabinet. Who knows? But I bet whatever she did, there were repercussions. Some might have been physical.

“Enough of those instances and your mom—with all the fear of an innocent child—would have conditioned herself to forget TK and never use it again. She received medication for her subsequent headaches, and lived the rest of her life thinking she was a migraine sufferer.”

Alex sighed and hung his head. They sat there for a stretch without talking, without even moving. “Sorry, this is a lot to process,” Alex said.

“Yes it is. No need to apologize.”

There was another pause. “So was I always going to be a telekin?”

“The odds were in your favor,” President Joyce said. “Add to that your mom’s reliance on Pregnacal, and, well, here you are.”

“But I’m not a Natural?”

“No. You would not have been latent for so long if you were a Natural.”

“So do you—do you know how she died?”

President Joyce reached his hand across the table and stopped Alex from fidgeting with his napkin. “Alex, I’m very sorry you never got a chance to know your mom. Having met your father, I’m sure she was a wonderful person…‌but I think we’ve speculated enough for today.”

President Joyce stood and circled around the table. “Walk with me. Both of you. I want to show you something.”

20 - Bling

20

Bling

They left the path and cut diagonally up the hill, their footprints dark in the dewy grass. “This is where I saw Startsman reading a book on the first day,” Alex said. “He was laying right there; he had it hovering just in front of his face.”

“Probably some obscure historical nonfiction,” President Joyce said. “
Economies of Scale in the Middle Ages
…‌I believe that was the last one I noticed in his briefcase. Not exactly my cup of tea.”

“What do you read?” Eva said.

“Oh, anything and everything. I don’t discriminate, as long as it’s fiction.” He paused and thought about it a little longer. “I take that back. I avoid authors I know to be depressing.” He stopped walking. “Have either of you read Hemingway?”

They shook their heads.

“Well, I never read him in school, either. Heard about him, obviously. Knew he was influential; one of the greats. Anyway, I went through a period where I tried to read a few books from all of the famous authors I might have missed growing up. And when I got to Mr. Hemingway, I chose
A Farewell to Arms
.” He removed his coat and draped it over his forearm. “My God, that last chapter…‌everyone dies! And then the man walks home in the rain. The end. I remember setting the book on the table and sitting there thinking: What have I done to myself? After a while, I got up and made myself a drink and turned on the television to some mindless comedy just so I could decompress.”

A bird whistled in a nearby tree and drew his attention. “That blue jay’s yelling at me to get off my soapbox.” He turned back to Alex and Eva and smiled. “The moral of the story is that I like my novels to be a little more…‌uplifting. Lord knows I have enough reasons to drink already.” They continued on. After a while, President Joyce spoke again. “Of course, having said all that, I must admit that I haven’t read a book from start to finish in over a year.”

“Why?”

“My dear, I haven’t had the time. And when I do, I find myself falling asleep within a few pages.” He shook his head.

“You seemed tired at Freshman Dinner,” Alex said. Eva elbowed him in the side and shot him a look.

President Joyce chuckled. “Oh, that’s quite all right. It’s a fair statement. I was tired. Convincing the public that an act of terror is an act of God is difficult work.” He removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses and put them back on again. He squinted at the sun as if to check his work. “Do you remember the spire that fell off the Workshire Building? Killed a senator and his wife?”

“I do,” Alex said. “I remember listening to it on the radio. The wind knocked it over.”

“That’s precisely what you’re supposed to think,” President Joyce said. “But the truth is,
wind
had nothing to do with it.” He raised his hand and Yellow’s door swung open and he walked inside. Alex and Eva followed.

“Well, what was it?” Eva said.

“Who, my dear. A better question would be: Who?” President Joyce stopped at the end of the hallway and looked down the stairs. “His name is Davarian. Davarian White.” He paused so that they might repeat the name in their heads. “I know him; know him quite well, actually. He’s a Natural.” He headed down the stairs.

“He’s a telekin?” Eva said.

“Yes, a very powerful one. Which makes him arguably the most dangerous man alive.” The three of them entered the basement. A faint smell of sweat hung in the air, a reminder of all their self-defense classes with Sonnier.

“When did you meet him?” Eva said.

“Oh, I’ve known Davarian for quite some time. I was the one who captured him when he first showed signs of being destructive.”

“But now he’s free?” Eva said.

“Correct. He escaped from the prison cell that I helped create.”

“How?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Something on the floor caught the president’s eye and he leaned a little closer for a better look. He removed a folded-up napkin from his back pocket and knelt down and rubbed at some barely visible spot until it disappeared. He stood and smoothed his pants and then turned back to them with an expression that reminded Alex of a patient parent awaiting more questions from his children.

“Has he always been…‌crazy?” Eva said.

“No. In fact, he would tell you that I’m the one who made him this way.”

“So why did he kill the senator?”

“Ah. Well, it seems that his time in confinement has caused his hatred for me to metastasize into a hatred for all those involved in the creation of this school. Grainger was actually the second official Davarian has killed. Remember Congressman Staples?”

“The guy who drove off the cliff and killed his family?” Alex said.

President Joyce nodded.

“That was a year ago,” Eva said.

“Exactly one month after Davarian escaped,” President Joyce said. He stopped in the middle of the basement floor and looked at the ground and fanned open his fingers. A circular panel about three feet in diameter slid away to reveal the start of a spiral staircase.

“Does he know about this campus?” Eva said.

“Not yet,” President Joyce said. He put on his coat. “And now you know why I’m never here anymore: I’m doing everything in my power to find Davarian before he finds us.” He turned and started down the staircase. “Follow me.”