Author's Note: This is the part where the real weirdness begins. If the ending of this part has you going, "Whaaaaaaaat?!" just wait until you read the end of the story, which will be... uh... who knows when? In a few months, give or take.
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“Probably all kinds of evil vampire bats and coffins in her mind,” Jade muttered, her words directed toward Valo, but her look of pure fury still fixed on Tacita.
“Yeah, and I bet you’re all sunshine and sugar cubes inside,” Valo retorted. “I may not be the best person, but I’m not some monster, you know.” She held her hand out to the fortune teller, palm facing upward. “Have fun probing my mind; it’s pretty twisted, so be careful.”
The fortune teller chuckled and responded, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.” She took Valo’s hand…
“I was given permission,” the fortune teller responded.
“You are an outsider. We Guardians of Her do not take kindly to intruders.”
“Guardians? Why haven’t I seen people like you in other minds?” the fortune teller quickly replied.
“Not every person has such a desire to protect their thoughts and dreams. We are all former protectors of Her from when we were mortal, and when She asked for aid years ago, we were sent.”
“Sent? For what?”
“To keep Her safe and ensure that She will always have this place to retreat to when She faces troubles. Otherwise… chaos. She’s a wise one for Her age, you know. She’s already learned the predictability of Her fellow mortals’ behaviors. But now, you must be going.” With that, he gave the fortune teller a strong shove.
The fortune teller stared in astonishment at Valo, who shifted uncomfortably, disquieted by her expression.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Valo asked.
“Quite the opposite,” the fortune teller gasped out. “Just… keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. It’s working for you.”
“Is that it?”
The fortune teller chuckled a little and replied, “Here’s something you don’t know.” With that, she whispered a few words into Valo’s ear. Valo jumped back, surprised, her mouth gaping open. She looked surprised, but pleased.
“Well, shouldn’t you folks be going now?” the fortune teller asked cheerily. She received various mumbles of response. “Well, then, get going.” The group of youngsters nodded and, in unison, turned away.
As they walked on to a nearby shop, the fortune teller heard Jade say angrily to Tacita, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
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“I need a drink,” Ms. Gibson muttered, entering the smallish building. She perched on a stool and raised a hand. The bartender stepped over to her, and she ordered her drink. She drank deeply for a few seconds, then swallowed. “Here’s to my family,” she muttered. “Generations of unhappiness. What a legacy.”
“Gabrielle! Gabrielle Gibson!” a voice called out. Ms. Gibson ignored it. “Damn it, in the name of Solunar, look over here,
Grace Agnes.” That did it. Her head shot up, seeking to identify the speaker. A woman with frizzy brown hair, wearing gaudy clothes, was striding over.
“Look, lady, I don’t know how you know my name, but I’m not feeling too charitable,” Ms. Gibson growled. “So, **** off.”
“Nice greeting for your friend and former boss,” the fortune teller sighed, sitting beside Ms. Gibson.
Ms. Gibson squinted at the woman and gasped in disbelief, “Elizabeth? Dear Solunar, what happened to you? Why are you dressed like a hippie? And what the hell did you do to your hair? Why are you here?”
The fortune teller-- Elizabeth-- shrugged and replied, “What, my hair looks that bad? I thought I’d try a new look. Besides, down here, you need to attract attention if you want money. But anyway, I came here looking for you. Plus, I figured I’d make some money from that little souvenir you left me.”
Ms. Gibson chuckled and said, smiling, “Our first experiment together. Well, you
did tell me to press that button. It’s a miracle you’re not dead. And then, once you figured out you were okay, except for
that, you just turned around and did the
same thing to me. We were so immature back then. Could have killed each other instead of just altering our brain functions, eh?” Her expression grew serious. “How are Jack and the kids?”
“The kids are doing fine. They’re with my great-aunt. Gracie’s at the top of her class, and Cherry’s already talking. But Jack… he got deployed a few months back and… well, he died in battle. You know, Gabby, you should have been the one to marry him instead of me. You were the one he really loved. But you know the government…”
“Yeah, if you can’t have kids, you can’t get hitched,” Ms. Gibson said bitterly.
“Before he left, he told me to come find you, to tell you to come back. That’s why I’m here.”
“Why should I come back? Has the government decided I’m dead?”
“No, they're sure you're still alive. Trust me, the government would rather keep people like you and me alive. We’re more useful to them that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, Gabby,” Elizabeth said slowly, as though to a child. “Why do you think we were put into the field we were, at such an early age? It was both a bribe and to keep us too busy to cause trouble for the government as a whole. When you were a kid, I bet you asked questions. Lots of them. Thinkers are dangerous, if not properly controlled. The people who were young enough to be useful were put into positions to where their excessive thinking could pay off for the government, while the older people… well, they were just killed. Why do you think there were so few old people around? All they had to do was brainwash the masses into believing this new religion, and, thus, being suspicious of the few old people who were still left, old people who remembered how things were before everything changed. Hell, when I was about fifteen or so, apparently I was viewed as a threat. Asked too many questions, understood things better than I should have, something along those lines. They called me down to the school office, said there was a clerical error, that I’d already completed all of the required classes and could now seek employment. And, oh, here’s a representative from the local lab, and they’re hiring.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Guess they figured I could help further their research.”
“And you did,” Ms. Gibson said, nodding. “Operation Plato, the Farleigh Test… and all that was before I came on board. Remember all the ones we worked on together? The Sarin Project, Project Lemon, Operation Birdseye, the Nil Plan…”
“…And our masterpiece, Project Wells.”
Ms. Gibson chuckled. “We were so sure it would be a failure, like Operation Epsilon.”
Elizabeth’s face became serious again. “Gabby,” she said. “Come back with me. Back home. You and your grandma.”
“Why?”
“There’s been political unrest since, you know, the assassinations. No official leader. You two, as relatives to the former leaders, could step in and turn things around, just like you’ve always wanted.”
“What I’ve always
wanted was a husband and children. You have the life I wanted, Elizabeth. Being a leader has never been my strong point.”
“You also wanted wisdom, though. Unlimited access to the knowledge of the ages. Wisdom comes at a cost, and it always has. You can use what you know and play mother to thousands… even millions. But I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” She sighed. “I don’t know if you know it or not, since you’re too close, emotionally, and I know that affects what you can pick up. I mean, I know you‘ve always had trouble picking up on anything about your grandma. But this…”
“Hm?”
“One of the kids, Gabby. One of the kids you know. I didn’t have the heart to say it when I saw them, but…” She shook her head.
“But what?”
Elizabeth whispered, “One of them was supposed to have died already.”
“Yeah, I do know that,” Ms. Gibson replied, smiling ever so slightly. “Back in August or September. Early in the school year. Suicide.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “But it
didn’t happen, and you know why. Something or
someone caused things to go differently. You chose those kids for a reason, didn’t you?”
“Because they were the best.”
“That’s one reason,” Elizabeth said, then shook her head, frowning. “Gabby, you have to let people live out their lives. Suicide, overdose, car accident, murder, complications from eating disorders… those were marked kids, Gabby! They were all supposed to die within about five years! You
can‘t save everyone!”
“I can
try!” Ms. Gibson cried out. “What good is it to know what I do and just stand there and let bad things happen to good people?”
Elizabeth smiled a little and said, “It’s not your place to decide who will live and who will die. You know what‘s going to happen in about a month or so, right? To two of them, I mean. Two, within the period of mere
days of each other, with one leading to the other. You don’t plan on interfering?”
Ms. Gibson smirked a little and replied, “You tell me, Lizzy.
You’re the fortune teller. My
grandma is the reason I came here, remember?”
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