“Well, I always know what time it is, even without a clock. And I always know when I have to leave to get somewhere on time, or how long I’ll need to study for a test. But that isn’t very impressive, is it? I mean, it isn’t like being an artist, or a musician, or having a knack for machines, or whatever.”
“Oh, no, you do not understand!” Ammu protested. “Samantha, the only reason we try to find such a pathway is to tap into our unconscious awareness. You, my amazing girl, do not seem to need such a pathway at all! Mackenzie uses her Muay Thai, for example, to access her unconscious knowledge of place. She understands positioning on an intuitive level. That is her true affinity. Our goal is to help her access that awareness in everything she does, not just in martial arts.”
“She learned the maps really fast,” Sketch interjected. “Does that mean Mackenzie can do it in the game, too?”
“Yes, Sketch! Good! She is already starting to apply her ability in other areas. And Samantha,” he announced, beaming at her proudly, “has a true affinity for timing—an affinity which she is already able to access on many levels, rather than through a single open pathway.”
Again, it wasn’t a question, and she had to nod her head.
“I believe now,” Ammu continued, “that the sense of importance you felt about taking the Intuition Assessment Battery, and about coming here, had to do with timing as well. What do you think?”
Sam mulled it over before answering, despite feeling a little self-conscious about everyone watching her.
“I felt like it was important to take the test that day, but then the feeling went away,” she said, still uncertain.
“Because you had already made the decision to go to school,” Ammu pointed out. “There was no need for your unconscious mind to prompt you any further.”
“Oh! And once I had decided to come here, that decision was already made, too!”
“Indeed!” Ammu agreed. “You do not have what you consider to be a special talent because your unconscious mind is not limited to a single pathway. You are already able to access your intuitive knowledge of timing in every aspect of your life. It helps you to be an excellent student in many subtle ways, I am sure, and it brought you here as well.”
Sam was so happy that tears started to well up in her eyes. She belonged at the ICIC after all. She looked around at the others, embarrassed, and Rush came to her rescue by changing the subject.
“Don’t think this is going to get you out of a nickname,” he said, grinning wryly.
“Gamer tags!” Sketch exclaimed. “But wait, Sam didn’t kill you. Mac did.”
“They killed me together. Mac knew where to be, and Sam knew when to be there. Honestly, Sketch, as if any of you scrubs could kill me by yourselves.”
Sketch giggled. “So what are their tags, then?”
“Grid,” he said, raising his chin toward Mackenzie, “and Tick-Tock,” nodding at Sam.
“Perfect!” Sketch crowed.
“They are indeed,” Ammu agreed. “Absolutely perfect.”
26
The Coming Storm
“You wanna go play downstairs?” Sketch found Rush sitting in their suite after dinner, his feet up on the coffee table, watching the news instead of playing HRT Alpha.
“I think I’m played out for today,” Rush said. “You go ahead if you want.”
“Naw.” Sketch settled onto the couch next to Rush. “What did Ammu say about your pathway?”
Scientists at NASA report that the upcoming Orion test is expected to proceed on schedule, as America prepares to return to space flight. The television reporter smiled for the camera. She was wearing a perfectly normal suit jacket, but Sketch was having trouble seeing it through the puffy ball gown and high, powdered wig he saw on her instead, making her look like some kind of historical French aristocrat.
Rush shrugged. “He said it’s something about predicting behavior patterns. He says that’s why I’m good at the game. I still think I’m just fast, though.” Rush wasn’t about to admit to anyone, not even Sketch, that he had completed the IAB by filling in the blanks randomly.
“You’re fast, for sure,” Sketch agreed, “but you’re not just fast. You’re super talented. If Ammu says you’re good at the behavior thing, then you are.”
“Look, Sketch,” Rush said, “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not sure I want to be that good at it. The only reason I’m not failing out on purpose is because my dad would sell all my stuff and probably kick me out of the house.”
“He’s not allowed to kick you out until you’re eighteen,” Sketch replied, matter-of-factly. “If he does, they have to give you somewhere else to live.”
Rush just looked at him.
“It’s a Child Protective Services thing,” Sketch offered, by way of explanation.
“It concerns me that you know that,” Rush said, but Sketch just shrugged. “Look, that’s not the point. I just don’t want to be here, OK? No offense to you, man. I really mean that. This place is great for you. It’s like a free ticket to college. But me, I want to be a pro gamer, and if I have to stay here all summer, I’m going to lose my chance. My mom says she’s going to try to talk my dad into letting me come home early. So don’t get too attached to me sticking around.”
Sketch’s face fell, but he didn’t say anything.
“It’s not that I don’t like you, or that I don’t want to hang out with you. You’re cool, man. You really are. But guys only get a few years to be pro gamers before their careers are over. It’s so short. You have no idea. And if you don’t have a pro spot by the time you’re twenty, the odds start stacking against you. I don’t have that much time left to make it, and I have to take the chance while I can. Once my mom gets me out of this, I’m leaving. That’s just how it is.”
Rush got up and walked into his room, closing the door quietly but firmly behind him. Sketch slumped on the couch, but when the next news segment came on, he sat up straight, his eyes glued to the screen.
The president is resting comfortably after a near miss today, when Marine One was forced into an emergency landing just moments after takeoff. Experts say the incident was caused by a sudden burst of wind, combined with an as-yet-undetermined mechanical failure.
But it wasn’t the reporter’s words that had Sketch staring at the screen. It was the news footage behind her. Just before the crash she described, a strange creature appeared in the air next to the helicopter, taking the blurred shape of a man-sized tornado, twisting and writhing in the air.
Watching in both fascination and horror, Sketch saw a face coalesce within the gusting vortex, with two black holes for eyes and a grimacing maw for a mouth. It reached out with ephemeral hands, crackling with the suggestion of lightning, and with preternatural speed it grabbed the helicopter’s rotor, causing the vehicle to spin out of control and come crashing down onto the tarmac below.
27
Instructor Report
“There’s been a development. We need to do this thing now.”
“And by ‘now’ you mean…”
“I mean now, dammit. Tomorrow. Hell, I mean yesterday.”
“Sketch is ready, as is Kaitlyn, I believe, but Daniel still needs more time—”