A Disease of Magic

My hip bumped against the edge of the security desk, stinging smartly as I wobbled in new heels. It was officially my first day at Hubert Industries after completing the onboarding-slash-orientation six days ago. My last day at Silk & Silver had been yesterday, and going on my fifth ten-hour day today was going to be interesting. Before even leaving the apartment this morning, I’d downed an extra strong cup of coffee. Then I’d stopped on my way to the office for a latte with an extra shot, and even that wasn’t helping me as much as I hoped.

My stomach was gnawing on itself, desperately begging for more than just hot bean water with nut milk. It was going to be a disappointing breakfast of a plain vanilla protein shake. Because instead of making a balanced breakfast, I’d spent the extra time on my appearance. I needed to make sure that I looked put-together and professional. The bags under my eyes had needed some serious help. I prayed to gods that didn’t exist that I would remember my face of makeup before rubbing my eyes. I’d also purchased a few new clothing items as soon as I’d accepted the job. The skirt and blouse I was wearing had been ordered online and I was surprised they fit as well as they did.

“Good morning,” I greeted the bald guard in his black uniform. “My name is Callie, and I was told my badge would be here?”

He grunted and asked, “Do you have your ID number?”

I rattled it off, and he pulled up my information. After asking for a few confirming details to ensure I was who I said I was, he instructed me to stand in front of the little camera off to the side to take my official ID picture.

Standing tall and giving a closed-lipped smile—I didn’t trust myself not to look manic if I tried for a real one—I could only hope I didn’t look like a disaster. Or I’d be staring at that picture in disgust for, well, months to years.

It still hadn’t fully sunk in that I could actually live a normal life. Maybe. According to Alex, he hadn’t had a LaShoul’s episode for two years and was still going strong. It was incredible. I hoped to be just as lucky. There was plenty of work ahead to figure out what I needed to do with my abilities to stay in that sweet spot Alex had explained to Leo and me the other night. But if it meant I could live? I’d fucking do it.

Just as the guard promised, the little machine spat out my new ID with my face taking up the left half of it.

“This is your identification and key to the building and your floors. Don’t lose it. There’s a fine if you do.”

I nodded, expressed my thanks, and fixed the badge to my shirt.

As I approached the elevators, my phone buzzed in my bag. I bit back a groan at the reminder that Alex had messaged me three times last night after I’d gotten off work. I had ignored them all. He’d likely assumed I was asleep, or at least I hope he did. But now, when there was no way I could still be sleeping, I really couldn’t continue to ignore his messages, including the additional one he sent this morning.

My feelings were still hurt, his rejection two nights ago too fresh. It made me unsure where we stood because clearly we were not on the same page like I’d thought. And I knew I had told him there was no problem either way, but my heart didn’t get the same message my brain had relayed.

It was better to bite the bullet and just look at the messages now before starting work. I could easily ignore anything other messages for the rest of the day until I got home.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside with a small crowd of people. I followed their lead, swiping my badge before selecting my floor. They really were serious about their security here. If only they had a biometric system, it would be nearly impossible to go anywhere you weren’t allowed. Although, a system like that for such a large company would be extremely expensive. My previous boss had looked into it for the display cases of the most expensive pieces. With only a couple handfuls of employees, it was still too expensive to justify the cost.

I maneuvered towards a back corner of the elevator and pulled out my phone.

Alex: How was your last day? Ready to start tomorrow?

Alex: You want to grab dessert tonight?

Alex: Hope you sleep well.

Those three he’d sent last night, and I sighed in relief that he didn’t bring up my now-embarrassing offer. His two messages from this morning, one from just a minute ago, reassured me further that it was behind us.

Alex: Good luck today! You’ll be great.

Alex: Want to grab lunch? My treat for your first official day.

I slipped my phone back in my bag while I debated how to answer. If I was being honest with myself, I was avoiding him. He was acting like nothing was wrong. My brain knew nothing was wrong. My heart disagreed, traitor that she was.

Be brave, I reminded myself. I pulled out my phone again and shot off a quick reply. His response was almost instantaneous, like he was waiting for it.

Callie: Maybe. I’m going to lunch with the coworkers if invited.

Alex: That’s a good idea. Can I claim you tomorrow, though?

Callie: Sure.

It was time to stop moping. I’d give myself the rest of today to get my heart back under control, and then I needed to put on my big girl pants and face him and figure out exactly where we stood. Like an adult. Because even though I didn’t feel like one, I was twenty-four, dammit, and enough of an adult to act like one.

The elevator glided to a stop on my floor and I carefully extracted myself. My bag was packed with items for my desk. I held it awkwardly so I didn’t hit anyone with it.

Mads was waiting for me, leaning up against my cubicle wall. Her blue pixie cut was slicked back today, her suit a purple so deep it looked almost black. Her heels were a blue that matched her hair.

“Good morning, Callie,” she said.

“Hi, Mads.”

“I’m here to steal you away. You’ll be training in the field today.”

My ears perked up. “Really?”

Mads nodded. “You won’t be with me, but I’ll take you over to Dee.”

“Okay, great.” Quickly, I emptied the vast majority of items from my bag, little personal touches that I’d noticed many others here had in their own cubicles. I had a picture of Lucie, a new pack of my favorite pens, hand sanitizer, lotion, lip balm, spare phone charger, a couple of illustrated notepads and a matching notebook. Most people used tablets and a stylus for note taking, but there was just something about putting pen to paper that I enjoyed. Not to mention that I never had enough money to spare for a tablet when I wrote things down so rarely. My phone was usually enough, and I was an expert at typing with my thumbs without looking.

I dumped all of it in one of the two empty drawers of the desk. Later I would get everything organized, but for now it was a huge weight off my shoulder.

“Should I bring the laptop?” I asked Mads.

“You don’t have a tablet?” I shook my head, and she rolled her eyes. “Figures. I keep saying that instead of the laptops we should just use tablets with a detachable keyboard, at least for the new hires until the laptops we have die and then replace them with tablets, but no. They’ve already invested in the programs and they’re not compatible.”

“That would make so much more sense,” I agreed.

“As soon as you can, I’d suggest investing in one. I can show you how I use mine when you do. The battery lasts a lot longer, too. How are you at taking notes on your phone?”

“A pro.”

“That might be your best bet for now. Pen and paper would be fine for today; you’re just shadowing. But you don’t want to have to type everything you already hand-wrote at the end of the day.”

I grabbed my journal-sized notebook and cracked open the package of new pens and picked one out, throwing both into my bag and leaving my laptop on my desk.

“Will that be okay there?” I gestured to the laptop sitting out in the open.

“Yeah, we’ve got cameras everywhere if it goes missing.”

Mads turned and walked away. Scrambling to catch up, I didn’t notice my bio-screen had buzzed for several seconds.

That was strange. I’d turned off every notification possible except for gamma. As discreetly as possible, I glanced down at my forearm.

Tally

Weighted

S1

2

0.667

S2

0

0

Total

0.667

I hadn’t used my abilities yet today, though if I had it would be under one of the primary ranges. I hadn’t run into Leo this morning, nor had I seen Alex. Between the lack of other options and the timeline of when the screen had picked up the gamma…

Someone here had just used an ability.

The floor was filled with people even though about a third of the cubicles remained empty. I had no idea how far away secondary gamma travelled. That would need to be a whole other round of experiments. Was it a standard distance? Did it vary by person? Leo would love it, the nerd.

Until I knew more, it could be literally anyone here right now.

Which shouldn’t be surprising, after taking a second to consider it. Alex had said there was a group of them who kept an eye out for others. Interviewing others with LaShoul’s could be a great way to discover others whose abilities had awoken.

Alex had made a comment that he’d encouraged me to apply for this job because he suspected my ability had emerged. Connecting the dots, I had to assume that this company was more involved with LaShoul’s—specifically the abilities side of it—than was public knowledge.

None of that was really public knowledge, though, was it? I’d never heard of any of it until I started asking questions and Alex had noticed. Unless someone was brought into the fold, they would never know. So had Alex slipped up when he said that about the group of lookouts? Or was he allowed to share it with us?

My musings were interrupted as Mads stopped outside another cubicle clear on the other side of the floor from mine.

The young woman was taller than both of us, not that it was a hard feat. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back in a stylish, curly tail that reached the middle of her back. She swung a white designer bag—one I recognized that Silk & Silver carried last year—over her shoulder as she turned to face us.

“Oh, perfect!” From her yellow dress to hot pink shoes to beaming smile, she was a ray of sunshine. Her bright blue eyes swept over me quickly from head to toe. “You’re a cute one.”

My own eyes widened in surprise. “Um, thanks?” The woman leaned forward and enveloped me in a tight hug. I got a whiff of her perfume, something light and citrusy that fit her happy personality.

Mads crossed her arms in my periphery. “Dee, you’re scaring the girl. Hands off.”

“Sorry. I’m a hugger.”

“It’s okay,” I assured them both. “Just took me by surprise.”

“Regardless, Dee here needs to learn some boundaries.”

“You’re just upset that I accidentally smudged your lipstick the first day we met. I’m not used to hugging people so short.”

Mads didn’t say anything, but raised one eyebrow at her. It was impressively intimidating. Dee’s hands shot up in surrender.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try,” she said, “but I can’t make any promises.”

Mads let out a sigh and shook her head. She turned to me. “You’ll be following Dee today and tomorrow. She has a few interviews in the area. You’ll just sit and listen. Next week we’ll pair you up with someone else, probably, for a couple of traveling interviews. We fly all over the country, so invest in a good carry-on over the weekend if you don’t have one. You won’t ever be gone more than a few days. I probably won’t see you the rest of today, but you have my number in case something comes up.” She gave a pointed look at Dee, who just smiled and waved a dismissive hand.

“She’ll be fine with me. Don’t worry yourself, Mads.”

Mads departed with one last look at Dee that I couldn’t decipher.

“So, Callie, I’m Dee. It’s so nice to meet you! We haven’t had a new interviewer join us in a while. Feel free to ask me all the questions.”

“Where are we headed today?”

Dee checked her phone. “We’re going to a hospital first, and then…” Her face fell, the sunshine evaporating. “We have a hospice call.”

“A…hospice call?”

Dee nodded. “That happens sometimes. It’s rare, but… Sometimes people want to talk at… at the end. When they know it’s coming. And it helps us, I mean the scientists, get some information that might help others…” She trailed off, leaving me wondering if she’d finished her thought or not. Deciding it was best not to bring it up, I sought to redirect the conversation.

“So, what questions get asked? How many are there?”

Dee visibly shook herself, physically removing the mantle of sadness that had fallen on her shoulders. She smoothed out the bright yellow skirt of her perfectly tailored knee-length dress. And then she gave me a megawatt smile.

“How do you do that?” I blurted out as we made our way to the elevators.

“Do what?”

I waved a hand at her. “Whatever that just was. It was like you flipped a switch.”

Her laugh sounded a bit forced. “One thing I’ve learned in this job is that it can be really heavy at times. It’s my, well, our job to stay professional. I like being happy, and, I don’t know… Maybe it’s how I try to help others, just a little bit. No one likes being stuck in the hospital. So if I can bring in some friendliness, well, what’s the harm?”

“Especially after an episode,” I agreed. “That friendliness makes a person not feel so alone.” I stepped forward to hit the button.

Dee regarded me. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.”

She hesitated a moment before asking quietly, “Do you have LaShoul’s?”

I kept my gaze on the elevators as I nodded once.

“Is that why you’re doing this?”

I shrugged before elaborating, “Yes, and no. It’s… more complicated than that.”

Thankfully, Dee dropped it. We rode the elevator down in silence, foreshadowing how most of my day would be spent.

“Thank you for meeting with us today. I’m Dee, and this is Callie. She’s shadowing me today. Is it okay if she joins us?”

The woman nodded stiffly, staring at the pictures hung on the light blue walls of her home of a little boy no more than seven. A worn, frayed blanket was wrapped around her thin shoulders, and she didn’t get up from the couch as Dee shook her hand. When she brushed her hair away from her face, I had to reign in my shock.

Meg.

I’d met her once weeks ago at the LaShoul’s support group. She had a son, the one in the pictures. And she was dying. It was no longer a fear on the horizon; it was happening now.

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

She didn’t seem to recognize me. Maybe she didn’t have the energy to really look at me, or maybe I hadn’t left an impression on her. Either way, I was grateful. I could sit and blend into the background to take it all in without needing to explain how I suddenly appeared in her home.

I listened as Dee asked some of the usual questions; how was she feeling, what could she accomplish most days, what did she struggle with the most, what made her happy. Some others were different than the ones I had heard in the hospital during this mornings other interview, asking about her end of life plans, her bodily functions, and others that I had to block out. It wouldn’t do to start sobbing for the woman.

Dee had been completely right; no one wanted to deal with the sadness of others.

Ten minutes or so into the interview, a crazy, insane idea popped into my head. It was probably too late. Meg’s LaShoul’s had progressed so far that it was extremely unlikely to work. But a long shot was still a shot.

From my vantage point, I could see into the kitchen were a basket of fruit was sitting on the small metal table.

Was it worth it? The risk? Could it backfire and just make things worse?

Not much was worse than death.

I quietly pulled my bag into my lap, opening it as though searching for something. With my hand concealed inside my bag, I envisioned the apple in the basket. And with a gentle tug, it appeared in my hand.

Two of the apples in the basket rolled slightly and I held my breath. But they didn’t fall, didn’t make a noise as Dee and Meg continued talking in hushed tones.

So I sent it back.

I couldn’t put it exactly where it had been now that other apples had taken its place. But next to the basket would do. I doubted Meg would be suspicious, even if she did take notice.

Back and forth I toyed with the apple, hoping that enough of my gamma radiation would trigger Meg’s ability to emerge. Alex said exposure to the abilities of others helped encourage a person’s own. It was the best I could do in the moment, but I’d ask Alex if anything else could be done for Meg whenever I talked to him next.

Because this wasn’t right. Even if the majority of people who tried to force the ability died, there was still a chance, even the slimmest one, of surviving and having a life. A life not plagued with fear or worry about the end, but one focused on the joy of the moment, in making plans to do things, making lasting and meaningful relationships.

That’s when it fully sunk in. That I had a life ahead of me, one that I could make long-term plans for. Plans to get my own place, maybe get another cat, save up for a convention in another state, travel the world, and do whatever the fuck I wanted to because I wasn’t living in fear of my next attack.

I could be normal.

I glanced at my bio-screen to see how many times I’d used my ability.

Tally

Weighted

P1

19

19

P2

0

0

S1

5

1.667

S2

0

0

Total

24

20.667

Wait.

I had only two S1 tallies earlier. And now there were five.

I tried remembering when I had felt another alert on my screen but couldn’t place it. Had it been during lunch with Dee, when I’d been so focused on her words as she explained our first visit that I didn’t notice it? Or had I grown so used to the constant alerts when I first got the screen that my mind automatically shut them out if I was busy with something?

Dee stood up, reaching out a hand to shake Meg’s. Quickly, and a little sloppily, I shoved the apple back towards the basket. Instead of landing softly like all the other times, it landed and rolled, heading towards the edge of the table.

I couldn’t let it fall on the ground. That would attract notice. Despite no one here knowing I had been messing with the apple, it wasn’t worth creating suspicious circumstances around myself.

Instead of summoning the apple to my hand and sending it back, I willed it from the edge of the table to the space next to the basket.

My brain fought me. I’d grown used to either taking or sending objects through space, not moving them like I was trying to. My focus sharpened, targeting the apple like a cat with a laser pointer.

I could feel it then, the thread in my mind that linked me to the apple. Instead of tugging on that thread hard like I usually did, I cast my end towards the table as I gave it a gentle nudge.

The apple appeared next to the basket.

I ducked my head as I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder to give myself a moment to compose myself. I definitely didn’t want to look excited right now. I took my time adjusting my blouse and skirt until my emotions were wrangled back to a professional neutral.

As we left after Dee said our goodbyes, I couldn’t help but turn around and say, “Thank you for your time today.”

Meg’s empty eyes met mine. She nodded once, saying no words. But none were needed.

As the door snicked shut behind me, I prayed to gods I hoped might actually be there that I’d done enough to save her.