Book 3, Prologue—Part 2

Prologue—Part Two

Alice

Alice sighed as she stuffed her bag. Colm was working through books faster than she could provide new material. Elysium only allowed her to bring one bag, so every week she had to figure out how to best stretch the material. This week she’d settled for several thick history textbooks with small font and very little in the way of pictures.

In a moment of weakness, she wondered why she even bothered. Then she scowled at herself for the thought. Alice “bothered” because Colm had saved her life several times. If there was a chance to get him back, she’d work herself to the bone to do so. One visit a week was the bare minimum of effort she could give him.

...Even if she couldn’t recognize her friend anymore.

It had started so well. For the first weeks, Colm had been flip-flopping between vegetative and acting like a toddler with a toothache. Elysium had called her in several times to calm him down. Because, unlike a toddler, Colm had undergone a transformation sometime between when he left the Albright’s team on his own and when he reappeared on the surface. The first few times she tried to calm him down, she felt like Scarjo trying to calm down the Hulk.

After that period, Colm seemed somewhat normal, even if he was simple and mute. He reacted well to direction, and picked up reading and writing easily. It was as if he was picking up a skill he hadn’t used in a long time, rather than picking up something anew. It had given her great hope.

But the more he learned, the less he… emoted, for lack of a better word. Like something “human” in him was being chipped away with every piece of knowledge gained. Alice even experimented by not bringing any new materials for him a few times. He didn’t complain, but what few emotions she could get out of him disappeared and he almost went mute again.

Alice grunted with frustration, shoving “A History of Western Philosophy” with a little too much force and bursting the corner of her bag. She inhaled deeply and struggled to keep herself from shouting in frustration.

It was good that she did because she heard her front door open. “Mija?”

Her mother. Alice sighed.

“In here!” She called.

Alice felt a light brush upon her mind, as her mother tried to gauge her mood. Alice knew she had been less than… social, of late, but she had great excuses.

Everyone did.

Maria Martinez entered Alice’s office, which used to be the house’s dining room. Alice had never entertained, so she had turned the dining room into a place where she could edit photos and answer emails. Not that there was much demand for photography at the moment.

Her mother “tsked” at the bag full of books. “I wish they’d let me send food with you.”

Alice smiled at that. The one complaint Colm voiced is that the food had no variety. “Same,” she said.

Alice began digging in a drawer for her duct tape. She’d patch the corner she busted on the bag as best she could and get a new one tomorrow. She felt her mother touch her mind again, some of her frustration bleeding through her mental defenses.

“Wish you’d join the family,” Maria complained.

“It’s easier to keep my guard up all the time,” Alice said. “Elysium has the strongest telepaths in the world working for them.”

“Let them look,” her mother replied. “The family has nothing to hide.”

Alice paused in her work of unloading the bag to give her mother a glare. “I’m not protecting the family—I'm protecting Colm,” she said through her teeth. “And you know that.”

Maria sighed and leaned against the desk. “Mija, look, in all the futures—“

“Yeah?” Alice interrupted. “How many futures did you see Colm saving that cruise ship? Or defeating an avatar? Or his goddamn family showing up when he visited?” Alice was almost yelling now. “The future isn’t set in stone, and your ability to read it is FAR from perfect!”

Alice closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I just worry about you,” Maria said softly. “You said yourself that he’s looking less and less human with every visit. You’re putting all this work into something that isn’t even a man anymore.”

Alice opened her eyes with a snort. “We’re the descendants of a demon, mom,” Alice said with derision.

“Or whatever the hell Gran is,” she added under her breath. Louder: “None of us are exactly human. As bad as the world is right now, it’d be infinitely worse if Colm hadn’t been there and paid the price with his mind. He may not have set out to save anyone but his brother, but when he saw what was happening, he stepped up.

“No children have been born alive in two years,” she continued, using a bit more force on the bag than what was required. “Imagine what the last two years would have been like with another one of those monsters free? One that effected memories?”

Alice threw the bag to the side in frustration. Colm can go one week without books, she thought. She moved past her mother and grabbed her keys off the coffee table, stopping short of running for the front door.

“Mija—“ Her mother called after her.

Alice closed the door behind her.

  ***

After being brought to Elysium from a secure Corvus facility, Alice cooled off in the waiting room. She reasoned her mother had set her off the way she did because Alice had been having similar thoughts and took her anger out on the wrong target.

Price was on duty again and was sheepishly glancing at her. Alice assumed he had a crush on her as he always did his best to make her visits go smoothly to the point that she was sometimes worried about his job security. So many rules he was willing to bend for her sake.

Plus, he wasn’t as good at hiding the frequent glances at her ass as he thought he was.

Normally she’d just peak in his mind and find out, but in order to be sure her own mental defenses were as impenetrable as possible, she’d closed all doors to her mind. She hadn’t used her telepathy in months.

Maybe mom’s right, Alice thought. I could ease up during the week and spend some time with the family… I mean, that’s why I moved back to LA in the first place. Colm wouldn’t want me to isolate myself for his sake… well, he might. That man was paranoid.

For a communal family like hers who were each born a telepath, cutting oneself off was similar to shutting oneself away in a room and never leaving. The Martinez family spent the majority of their time living in other people's minds—almost literally, when it came to the twins. Alice didn’t know how they kept the personalities separate with how much time they spent being one another.

“Okay, go ahead and stand in the square,” Price said, interrupting her thoughts.

Alice nodded and crossed the room, fishing her ID out of her pocket. She had figured out months ago the ID portion of the procedure was a subterfuge to draw attention away from the verification magics. Not the obvious ones that sent a tingle across her skin, but the more invasive ones that scanned her far more thoroughly and were a good deal more subtle and creepy.

It made Alice worried there might be a vat in a basement somewhere with her clone.

But she put up with it because Jager was growing more and more prickly every year. The last time Alice and her family had made a stink he’d threatened to end visitation rights altogether, no matter who or what was backing them. Alice had been tempted to call Gran up then and there but didn’t want to cash in Colm’s favor and negate what little hold they had over Jager.

“All good,” Price said as the steel door began to rise. “Have a good visit.”

“Thanks, Jeremy,” Alice said and began to walk down the long hall to Colm’s “cell.”

Alice was lost in thought, her mind revolving around what her mother had said. Before she knew it, she had crossed the bridge and was standing in the square designated for visitors. She shook her head to clear it and looked him over.

She was relieved he didn’t look any different than last week. Sometimes he changed from week to week and it made treating him the same very difficult. One week he had changed so drastically they hadn’t let him have any visitors at all.

Colm’s expression—usually a small polite smile—fell when he noticed she wasn’t carrying anything. “No books this week?”

“Sorry buddy,” Alice said, sitting cross-legged in the yellow square. “I was trying to fit as many as I could into the bag and it burst, then I had an argument with my mom and I—I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to bring some next week.”

The small smile came back as Colm nodded once. “Okay. What are we talking about this week?”

Alice had been thinking about this. Colm wouldn’t be thrilled, but without new materials, there was little else to do. “How’s your handwriting coming along?”

Colm frowned. “Handwriting is hard,” he said. He lifted his long and thin hand. “The pencils keep breaking.”

“That’s okay! You have plenty of pencils,” Alice said with forced cheer.

Colm’s head swung to the left like a giraffe, looking at his desk. There was a ream of paper and a cup filled with charcoal pencils. “I guess,” Colm said.

“Permission to use the desk?” Alice called toward the air.

“Permission granted,” came a booming voice. “Prisoner to the secondary square.”

Colm bobbed his head and climbed to his feet. Standing, even with the severe slouch, he was over eight feet tall. Price had told her the last time they weighed him he clocked in at just under four hundred pounds. Which must be mostly bone, as there was barely any muscle on the guy.

Colm crossed to the table and sat down on the floor. He was so tall that he didn’t need a chair. He placed both hands flat on the table and waited.

“Visitor to the secondary square.”

Alice repeated the process but sat across from Colm. She placed her hands flat on the desk, marveling at how small they looked compared to Colm’s. His hands looked like spider crabs' legs. As she thought that, his index twitched and touched her finger—

Hi Alice! Said Colm. The real Colm. The Colm she remembered. He had somehow slipped right past her mental defenses like they weren’t even there. First, I need to apologize for playing dumb for nearly three years. There’s a faction in Elysium that was pressuring Jager to kill me and for some reason the dumber, monstery-er I behaved the less traction they got. Other than that…

Jesus, where do I start? Whelp, the Waker did a doozy on me. Took nearly all my memories except for some food. I’ve been spending most of my waking moments these last few years getting them back—no wait, wrong phrasing. They aren’t really “back.” I’ve had to… remake them? For lack of a better word.

Imagine you live in a house for thirty years. You’re a neat freak and you know where everything is, from the coasters to the odds and ends in the coupon drawer, to the furniture, to that one picture on the wall that is always crooked no matter how much you fiddle with it. The house has been basically the same for most of your life.

Then you die and your estranged sister inherits the house, but before she arrives someone comes along and steals everything inside the house from the carpets to the fucking sink. But she’s determined to remake the house as you lived in it, so she goes about imagining how the house was based on the indentations on the floor, the discoloration on the walls, to the era furniture would have been bought.

That’s… kinda what I had to do to my memories. I had to remake them based on the shapes they used to take up in my mind. I think I did an okay job, but I’m sure there are a LOT of fuck ups.

I’m saying this upfront because when next we meet, I’ll… probably not be the same Colm you remember. I’ll be close enough. I know I love you almost as much as Conner. You’re my ride-or-die bitch and I’d lay down in traffic for you.

But, like… the couch might be a different color, even if it’s the same brand and model, you know? One thing I know for a fact will be different is that the memories that involve trauma won’t pack as much punch. They’re memories I created, at this point, and it’s way harder to hurt yourself intentionally than for others. Does that make sense?

God, I hope this makes sense.

Also, don’t worry about not being able to respond, we’re not actually talking right now. You won’t remember any of this for a couple of months… so sorry about that. I just needed to pretend to have a real conversation with you for my own sanity. Jeremy’s a good guy but talks about League of Legends way too fucking much and if I have to hear another thinly veiled discussion about how much he wants to fuck Miss Fortune I might make all their fears about me come true. I don't even know who Miss Fortune is, for Christ's sake.

What I’m really doing is altering your memories similar to how I did to myself. I kinda had to learn how to be the Waker in order to fix myself, so now I have a bunch of… honestly quite scary memory powers. I’ve only developed them to be touch-based and not that area-of-effect thing he was doing because I don’t wanna sneeze one day and accidentally make everyone around me forget their PINs. Also, I didn't want to trip the alarms in my cell. But mostly the PIN thing.

Also… so Elysium doesn’t figure out that I’m back before I’m ready, I’m going to have to plant some false memories. I don’t want to but it’s safer for both of us. I’m taking that discussion with your mom and kinda… making you agree with her. It’s not mind control, but I’m betting that a little nudge will make you visit me less and less in the coming months before stopping altogether.

I have to do it this way because they have someone who can read your mind. It’s less magic and more of a… fuck I dunno. From what I can taste in the air, it feels like they can copy minds. Maybe something to do with that security scan? Oh shit, I bet they’re copying your brainwaves or whatever to get at your memories.

Well, that means I got to be on my A-game so they don’t suspect anything. So, uh, I hope you aren’t too pissed when you suddenly remember this in six months. You’ll also remember where to meet me at that time as well. You can hug or slug me. Maybe both? I’m hoping for a hug. Though I understand if you wanna hit me.

You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met and I’m so, so glad you’re my friend.

See you soon.

Alice blinked and looked at Colm, who was smiling his small smile.

“Sorry,” Colm said. “My hands are big.”

The buzz sounded, which let them know they could move so long as they didn’t leave their squares. Alice smiled, trying to keep her frustration out of it. She wished her mom had waited until after she had got home to have their little chat. She didn’t want Colm to pick up on what was wrong.

“Let’s see how you’re doing with lowercase letters,” Alice said, grabbing some paper and charcoal pencils.

***

Three months later.

Someone was pounding on Alice’s front door hard enough that it startled her awake from a deep sleep from the other side of the house. Reflexively, she cast about with her mind and slammed into a very familiar type of shielding. Shielding that is used almost exclusively by Elysium agents. She cursed under her breath, blinking sleep from her eyes. She got up and grabbed a bathrobe from the hamper and threw it on. She was wearing a threadbare tank top to sleep and she didn’t want to give whoever was at the door a show.

The pounding continued as she trudged through her house, turning on lights as she went. Now that she was becoming fully awake, she could hear a helicopter and sirens as well. What the hell was going on? Worry about her family suddenly grew in the pit of her stomach and she rushed the rest of the way to the front door, stopping only to grab her chain from the hallway closet.

She opened the door to find Albright standing there with his hand up. Behind him were six fully armed and armored Elysium agents. Any thought of using her chain left her mind and she shifted it behind her.

Albright looked tired and irritated. “Is Colm with you?” The question came with a blast of psychic force against her mental defenses, which almost folded before she could firm them up with a glare at Albright.

Her glare fell into astonishment, however, when his words registered. “He escaped?!”

Albright sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I’d appreciate it if you let me scan your mind so we can eliminate you from our search.”

Alice gave him a flat look.

Albright grunted. “It was worth the ask,” he said, then turned his head to look behind. “Walt, check the house.”

A vaguely familiar man who looked like a weird mix of ninja, knight, and cyberpunk nodded once and disappeared. Something moved past her into the house, creating a blast of wind that blew her hair back.

“H-hey!” Alice shouted, moving to close the door but then realizing it was too late.

“Sorry, Miss Martinez,” Albright said tiredly. He sounded sincere. “But we need to apprehend him as soon as possible. No time for warrants or due process.”

“Like you ever use either,” Alice fired back.

Albright tilted his head in a “meh,” gesture.

Alice was wondering where her goddamn wards were. She wasn’t near Colm’s ability with them, but he’d taught her a fair bit—

There was a deep thud from beneath the house. Alice returned Albright’s raised eyebrow as if to say “You’re facing the consequences of your actions.” A minute later Walt showed up, one hand pressed against his back. “House’s… clear,” he grunted. He gave Alice a sour look. “Nasty wards on your basement.”

Jesus, Alice thought. Those wards were meant to kill or disable.

“Colm hasn’t contacted you?” Albright asked as Walt was seen to by another vaguely familiar agent.

“You have me under surveillance, Albright,” Alice said with irritation. “Are you asking me if I’ve somehow circumvented it?”

“Have you?” Albright asked archly.

Alice glared at him. “Fuck you.”

Albright watched her for nearly a minute. Alice could tell he was debating if it was worth antagonizing her further. Finally, he rolled his shoulders and waved a hand behind him. “Search the rest of the houses.”

The agents around him fell out and now Alice could see the rest of the street. It was absolutely crawling with Elysium personnel, more Elysium agents than she’d seen during the fight with the Waker. The fact that they mobilized more people for Colm than for an avatar of the Distiller infuriated her.

Her fury was undercut with a wave of shame. She hadn’t gone to see Colm at all this month. Now… Would she ever see him again?

Would she want to? Would he want to see her?

Alice sighed, closed the door, and went to make coffee. Elysium wouldn’t leave anytime soon and she doubted she’d get any sleep.