Chapter 23 – Pearly Mist

I step into my room. The chips bags are exactly as when I left, even the coke I brought for him has been closed and not touched since I left. Did he leave too?

“What’s the most objects you’ve controlled at once?” Brody asks from the empty closet.

“I really have no idea.” I turn around and look at him.

“10’s, 100’s?”

“Maybe around a 100, yes. I’ve never needed to move more.”

“You’ll need to move a lot more than that if you want to do this.” I had kind of figured that one out, there are over 1.5 sextillion molecules in a drop of water, micro movements would take a lot of control.

“Brody, what happened? I heard the InT is here now, and there are people outside watching the windows.” He looks down with half a shrug. “What happens if they catch you?”

“They’ll take me back to the basement and…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

“And ‘treat’ you?”

“That’s what they call it,” he mumbles.

“What do you call it?” He picks at the hem of his oversized shirt and keeps quiet.

“You know, I have helped you a few times now, it would be nice to know what exactly I’m helping you with.”

“They don’t work, okay.” That’s not a question, just an irritated explanation. “They just hurt.”

“Well, then you can’t stay here.”

“I don’t do as you say so you’re…”

“You said it yourself,” I interrupt. “There are too many people at the school for Joseph to get an accurate read on anyone, but the InT is here now, and the dorm floors are all but abandoned. Even if they can’t tell it’s you here, they could probably tell that there are two people in this room, and the school knows I don’t have a roommate.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Asking professor Holt if I can borrow one of the unused classrooms for the day to practice on my own. You managed to make it here without being noticed, can you get down there too?”

“If no one is in the hallways.”

“Great.” I’m going to regret not just going to bed.

“Fight Club will be free,” he says. Of the 4^th level classes that is the room closest to here, it might be easier for him to get there. I grab a bag of chips and open the door. The coast is clear. He hurries past me to the southern stairs while I close and lock the door. When I get there he’s nowhere to be seen. I walk down the first flight of stairs, expecting him to simply be fast. He’s still not there. I stop up and listen, but the only sound is my own breathing. Of course, he must be using the air to carry him quickly and quietly downstairs. I hurry downstairs, and sure enough, he’s there, waiting in the staircase corridor.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him and make my way to 640. Class has already begun when I open the door, so I signal to the professor that I’d like a word and wait for him outside.

“What is it, Lizzy?” He looks almost worried.

“I was just wondering if 648 is free today, and if I could possibly borrow it for a bit of practice.” He’s about to say something, but something stops him. Instead, he looks towards the classroom.

“Sure,” he says, but there’s something in his voice, something almost like a warning or a reprimand, but it’s still directed at the other side of the hallway. Does he know Brody is there? It would make sense, he seems to be the one taking care of Brody, and he could sense Pam was in danger from several floors away. So if he knows, and he’s not saying anything… Is this one of those ‘I wish you wouldn’t do this, but I won’t stop you either’ things?

“One more thing,” I make my voice as calm as I can manage. He looks at me, and his expressions have gone from worried to almost reluctantly amused. “Those pearls from 625, do they have a stock of those that aren’t being used right now?”

“Sure, just knock and ask, I’m sure Professor Summers won’t mind, as long as you get them back to her.”

“Thanks,” I say. He goes back to the class with one last glance in Brody’s direction. He didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell. I make my way over to 625 instead, this time remembering to knock politely.

“Yes?” professor Summers calls. I open the door and stick my head in.

“I was wondering if you have any pearls you don’t need right now that I might borrow for some practice?”

“Of course,” she says and opens a cupboard behind her and sends a bag of pearls flying to me like last time I was in this room.

“Oh, if that’s all you have it won’t really be of any use to me, but thanks anyway.”

“How many do you need?” she asks.

 “How many do you have?” She pulls out two plastic boxes filled with the small bags of pearls.

“If you can do without them…” I ask.

“What, all of them?” One of the students asks – pencil case guy.

“Things are different in the advanced classes,” she tells him off and sends the boxes to me. “Just make sure to have them back here before class starts tomorrow.”

“Thank you, I will.” I float the boxes ahead of me to room 648. Brody enters just after me.

“How many did you get?” he asks and looks closer at the boxes.

“A couple of thousands.” I estimate.

“Is that all you could get?”

“It’s all there is,” I defend myself.

“This is going to take an eternity,” he complains and throws himself on the couch.

“Feel free to leave anytime,” I throw back at him.

“And leave you to yourself? I dare not think what that would lead to.”

“Some peace, maybe.” Insufferable, proud, self-centered… I’m starting to sound like Sasha. I shake it out of my head and focus on the task instead. I blow out softly and form a giant bowl of still air, and I pour all the pearls in.

“Cheater.”

“Shut up.” I pick up the pearls, one at the time, and hold them as singles. 1,2,3,4,5…. 156,157,158… 289,290…. 321,322… 353,354… 385,386… 417,418… 439,440… 471,472… 503,504… I take a steadying breath. 545,546… 567,568… 599. A small clatter tells me I lost the grip on one. It rolls back into the air bowl and rests among the others.

“Pathetic,” the silhouette on the other couch informs me. 1,2,3,4,5… 56,57… 108,109… 250,251… 302,303… 454,455… 506,507… 558… 599,600… 611… 622… 633… 644… I take a deep breath and sit quietly, unmoving, for a few seconds. I’ve got it, I’ve got them steady. I don’t need to move them, I just need to hold them where they are. 645… 656… 689… 730… 771… 802… My head hurts. I can’t focus my eyes. 803… Breath in, breath out. Keep steady. 804… A knock on the door almost makes me drop them all. Brody slithers under the couch.

“Yeah?” Someone tries the door, but I locked it.

“Steven told me you were in here,” Pam calls from the other side.

“Oh… Okay. Now’s not really a good time,” I say apologetically.

“I’m leaving in half an hour,” she tells me. I take a deep breath and unlock the door with a hasty swoop of my hand. The pearls grow unsteady, waver a little, but I don’t drop a single one. I’m rather pleased with myself for that.

 “What… Wow,” she says, looking at the scattered pearls. “I just wanted to come by to give you this back,” she carefully steps under the pearls in the air and places my phone on the small coffee table. “And to say goodbye, I might be gone for a while. How many do you have there?” I lift another up.

“805.” She just looks at them, floating around the ceiling.

“I’ve never seen a transporter with that kind of focus,” she admits. “I’m surprised Sara didn’t come for you.”

“Sara?” I repeat. “Was that her name? The wolf girl?”

“Steven told me,” she confirms. “He even arranged a visit.”

“You went to see her?” I don’t think I could have done that, not after almost dying like that.

“She was just scared, it wasn’t her fault. I think her parents threw her out, she’s been living as a wolf for a while, it was easier to find food like that.” Easier to find food like that… An image of pawprints in the forest floor floats through my mind for a second, before being replaced by the image of city streets, garbage cans, and uniforms chasing after the wild animal.

“How long was she on her own?” I ask cautiously, not certain I want to know.

“No one seems to know. All I could get out of them was that they had been searching for her for a while, but the animal side of her was harder to track. It’s something to do with strong emotions being like beacons, but animals go on instinct most of the time.” She pauses and looks at me. I’m aware that I don’t know much about Unassigneds, that I don’t really know how they do things around here or anything, and sometimes I think my responses are ‘wrong’ in some way. “She’s a nice girl, really, I just wish there was something I could do for her.” I look down; the hopelessness in her eyes too much to bear. The pearls all clatter down.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “I made you lose your focus.” But I didn’t lose my focus, it just shifted.

“Professor Holt was able to calm Sara down, but from what I’ve heard it’s all doctors down there, do they have no people with useful abilities, people to help calm the patients, help them understand what is going on?”

“None that I saw, and none that I’ve heard of. I think it’s simply too dangerous, and you don’t get a lot of people volunteering for something like that.”

“It just seems it would be less dangerous if someone did it. With all the people here, there must be someone that could help. It can’t be nice, being down there all alone and scared.”

“I agree. But we can’t force people to risk their lives for the comfort of someone most people consider a monster.”

“Change the stigma then,” I say.

“Easier said than done,” she tells me.

“Nothing worth having is ever easy to get.”

“But worth fighting for,” she agrees. “But I actually just came by to say goodbye, I have to leave in…” She looks down at her watch. “2 minutes. And I have to make It all the way down the stairs.”

“You’re going to visit your mother?”

“That’s the plan. We’ll see how long I can stand it there,” she laughs, but I can hear the nervousness in her voice.

“I can handle the stairs for you if you’d like? I assume you have luggage and everything.”

“Yeah, just the essentials,” she says as she opens the door and points at the three large bags in the hallway. I make a wild guess and ask:

“How many of those are filled with books?”

“Not enough of them.” This time the laughter is genuine. I lift them up with a wave of my hand.

“Where are you supposed to meet them?”

“By the front door.”

“Do you trust me?” I ask. She looks at me for a second, considering it.

“Yeah,” she says as if she just now decided. But it’s more than just trusting me not to drop her – like I was actually asking – it’s real, genuine trust. “There’s something familiar about you. Something I trust,” she explains, even if she doesn’t understand it any better than I do. I lift her up too and send her and the bags carefully down the giant center staircase and to the front door. I set her down gently and close the door before picking up the pearls again. At least I didn’t lose focus completely, and they are still floating neatly in the air bowl. Brody stands up again.

“805? Tell me you can do better than that.” A strong urge to simply smack him over the head with one of the chairs rushes over me. I sit back down on the couch and start picking up pearls again. 1.. 102… 203… 304… 405… 506… 607…

I have to start over again when we reach the end of the day and have to go back up to my bedroom again to be undetectable. I put the 1247 pearls I was holding back into the bags and float the boxes in front of me. It’s still five minutes till classes end, so we have time enough to get out of the hallways and into the room before others come out. I sit down on the bed and start over.

At 5 o’clock a knock on the door almost makes me lose focus again. I steady the 2519 pearls and call out lazily.

“What is it?”

“Miss…” There’s a pause, and then: “Langdale. We’re sensing high concentrations of energy from your room; would you mind opening the door so we can make sure everything is okay?” Brody steps into the closet.

“What gives you the right to search my room?” I ask, but my mind is too pearly to be able to make my voice sound angry.

“We have a warrant to search any room with an energy level above a three.” This is it then. I can’t very well refuse them.

“What does that mean? An energy level three?”

“The energy levels follow the school levels,” he explains.

“But then that’d mean you have a warrant to search any room with a level four student?”

“Only those currently active.”

“Currently active?”

“We can sense activity in your room spiking above a level three energy. Please open the door miss Langdale, or we’ll have to force it open ourselves.”

“Hold on,” I tell them and move all the pearls slowly to the side, so I can get up off of the bed. I try the door handle, but of course, it’s locked. Okay then. I steady my mind.

“Miss Langdale, whatever it is that’s going on in there, I promise you we can protect you…” I move the tumblers of the lock carefully and ignore the hint of worry in his voice. I press the handle down with my hand and open the door. Two suits are out there, one with a clipboard and the other it seems with a headache.

“Can I see that warrant?” I ask, my voice sounds odd because of the long period of deep concentration on one thing. The clipboard suit reaches into his inner pocket and hands me a piece of paper. I read it over.

“This gives you the right to search rooms with unexplained energy spikes going above the expected three.”

“Yes,” clipboard suit says. “So unless you can explain why your room reaches a 4.8…” I push the door fully open with my foot. He looks in and drops his jaw at the sight of the pearls.

“You’ve been here less than a month!” he accuses. “How many do you have there?”

“Two thousand… something. Two thousand… five hundred… nineteen.” Pearls. Everywhere.

“I’m sorry for the interruption.” He recollects himself. “And best of luck.” He closes the door himself and they seem to go back to the staircase. I sit down again and Brody steps out.

“They found you impressive,” he says.

“As long as you don’t use your gifts it should be fine,” I reply.

We have passed 2AM when I raise the last pearl. 4983 pearls. My head is aching, my eyes are tired, and my stomach is mad at me for clenching so much all night.

“Good,” the darkness next to me says. “Now spread them out so you can pass through.” I take a deep breath, force my eyes to focus again and ignore the banging in my head. I close my eyes for a second, making sure I have a feel for every single pearl. I move them aside, slowly, carefully. I know if they bump into each other I’ll drop them all. Never before, at least not from what I remember, have I ever moved something so slowly. Then again, it only takes me half an hour to make a hole just big enough to walk through.

“Good. Now put them all back exactly where they were.” I look over at him. “If you don’t you’ll end up leaving wonky walls everywhere you go.” He can’t see it in the dark, and I have more than enough to hold to be able to turn on the lights, but if he could see me I feel confident the look in my eyes could have made even him cower in the corner. I let them all fall down again and start over.

By 4AM I have them all up again, by 4.30 I’m starting over. By 5.30 they’re up, by 6 they’re all lying neatly in the bowl again.

“Again,” he orders with a hint of a smile in his voice. “And this time no cheating.”

“What do you mean cheating?” he moves his hand and the air bowl disappears. I only just manage to catch the pearls.

“How is that cheating?” I demand. “They were in the bowl before, you said put them back!”

“If you let go before you have all of them in their right place you allow the gravitational pull to ruin it all for you.” I take another deep breath. It seems like I’ve done nothing but count and take deep breaths for the past 100 years. This time I haven’t moved them though, I only caught them in the air. I look up at them, my eyes so tired they look like a multi-colored mist. With a harmonica movement, I spread them out, slowly, steadily. The mist thins out. I blink, forcing myself to focus. I make the same movement again, but the other way. The pearls fly closer together, but the yellow one is still next to the blue and green one, and though I have no ruler I am willing to swear that distances between the three pearls are in the same relation to each other as when they were far out. I don’t know if that makes sense at all, my brain is dead. Something next to me moves.

“Do that again,” he orders, sitting up now and actually looking at me. I do the harmonica movement again, this time a bit faster. “You’ve got it,” he says in surprise. “I think you’ve actually got it.” But steps in the hallway outside make him shut up and hold his breath. A knock on the door sends him hiding under my bed. The problem, of course, it that I have sowing materials stacked up under there, so there isn’t really room. I look down and am about to tell him to get in the closet instead when the door opens.

“Miss Langdale, I was promised…” the pearl teacher starts. She doesn’t finish though. I turn around to look at her.

“What is it?” I ask sleepily.

“You promised the pearls would be back in storage before class started.”

“So? I still have…” I look down at the clock next to my bed. “Five minutes. Sorry about that, I’ll have them down in two,” I say and float up the little bags they came in.

“Hold it,” she orders. I look back to her again, slowly, sleepily. “Have you been practicing all night?” she asks, amazed. I nod slowly and force my eyes to not stay closed. “How many pearls do you have there?”

“Four… Four, nine, eighty… three. I think. Maybe.”

“Four thousand?”

“And 983. Maybe.” she just looks at me in awe. And then something strikes her, I can see the idea form in her head even despite half closed eyes. “Can you sort them by color?” I’ve been staring at the same pearls all night, I’ve been keeping them in the same exact pattern for hours, I’ve been… I’m too tired to finish the rest of that sentence, I just send the pearls flying to different piles without even looking at them. She picks up one of the bags. “Can you put 20 of each color in there?” I send the pearls flying in lines into the bag. She picks up the next one. “20 of each,” she repeats. I send them flying, not even bothering to keep my eyes open anymore. I fill all the bags for her and she mumbles an “Impressive.” I don’t even care. I send the boxes to her and lie down. I don’t know if she tries to wake me, I just know I’m walking through a mist of pearls.