the clink of glass and metal. “We have speed, heightened senses, reflexes, strength, precognition, increased pain threshold; there’s a bunch of stuff. Oh, and your fingerprints will fade, helps make us untraceable.”
“Miriam,” I whimper, unable to take it all in. “I don’t understand. How can this be happening to me?”
The rummaging stops. “Fate? Natural selection? No
good
reason, kid. You inherited the Optimal gene from your grandmother, Kitty inherited the trigger gene from someone in her family, the two of you came together and bam.”
I jerk up, nearly cross-eyed with the rush. “Nan was like this? Not Mom, too?”
“Careful,” she steadies me. “No, Nan wasn’t genetically engineered, just a carrier like your mom.”
“Mom was normal?”
“Completely.”
The relief is intense but momentary. “What on earth was Nan into?”
“Nothing. She took pregnancy supplements. She had no clue they were laced with Optimal.” She releases my shoulders, watching to see if I’ll keel over. “That was the second generation trial.”
“They put it in pregnancy vitamins?” Stunned, I prop myself against the table, leaning heavily on my elbow like a drunk. “This is too huge.”
“Let me look at your wound.” Gently, she untucks the sopping bandage and begins to unloop it while I stare blankly into middle distance.
My brain is so murky, my thoughts break the surface half-seen. Trance-like, I begin, “How can you be sure I’m one of these protectors? A Shield? I can’t move like you or fight or anything. How can you be sure it wasn’t just a guy after Kitty’s necklace?”
She pauses mid-loop. “If he were a civ – sorry, a civilian – you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did. As to your abilities, they’ll come quickly and you’ll be trained. But it’s the tether that’s your proof, that tug behind your bellybutton. You had your hand over your stomach when you came round at the governor’s.”
I knew what she meant. It was what frightened me the most, in Miriam’s alley memory, that primal tug, more than the impossible feats of speed and strength. “I don’t feel it now.”
“You will, as soon as you get near her again. It’s the true sign of your bond.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to hurt her? What did Phil do to that guy in the alley?”
“Phil didn’t do anything and neither did Kitty.” The bandage comes loose, Miriam sets it aside and we stare at the deep cut in the base of my thumb. She angles my wrist to examine it in the light. The cut glistens like a faceted ruby, glinting and hypnotic. “It’s called the Fixation Effect.” It’s what you experience when you think of Kitty, when you see her, what you feel, that sense of being drawn to her. For a Shield, it’s what compels us to protect our Spark. But for the Stray, you take everything you feel about Kitty and twist it so she no longer looks like the victim who needs your help but the virus destroying your sanity and threatening your life.”
“That’s impossible.”
She lowers my hand to the table and turns to her case. “Things are blurred for you because you already have a relationship with your Spark. You already care about her. Phil,” she rocks her head back to indicate the memory I’ve seen, “is a total bastard, who beats his wife and cheats at cards. You saw him. He’s not much different sober. Beyond a basic human decency, I have no reason to care about what happens to him, but you saw how I was, felt what I felt. I
had
to protect him.”
“You didn’t even know him?”
She arranges supplies on the table, scissors and gauze and tape. “I shook his hand at the office where I dropped off proofs after the shoot. That was it.”
I feel like I’m being pulled backwards, dragged by an undertow into rough waters. “Your whole Phil situation happened in the space of a week? A week!” My mouth snaps open and closed with the impossibility of it all. Me, facing off
“Miriam,” I whimper, unable to take it all in. “I don’t understand. How can this be happening to me?”
The rummaging stops. “Fate? Natural selection? No
good
reason, kid. You inherited the Optimal gene from your grandmother, Kitty inherited the trigger gene from someone in her family, the two of you came together and bam.”
I jerk up, nearly cross-eyed with the rush. “Nan was like this? Not Mom, too?”
“Careful,” she steadies me. “No, Nan wasn’t genetically engineered, just a carrier like your mom.”
“Mom was normal?”
“Completely.”
The relief is intense but momentary. “What on earth was Nan into?”
“Nothing. She took pregnancy supplements. She had no clue they were laced with Optimal.” She releases my shoulders, watching to see if I’ll keel over. “That was the second generation trial.”
“They put it in pregnancy vitamins?” Stunned, I prop myself against the table, leaning heavily on my elbow like a drunk. “This is too huge.”
“Let me look at your wound.” Gently, she untucks the sopping bandage and begins to unloop it while I stare blankly into middle distance.
My brain is so murky, my thoughts break the surface half-seen. Trance-like, I begin, “How can you be sure I’m one of these protectors? A Shield? I can’t move like you or fight or anything. How can you be sure it wasn’t just a guy after Kitty’s necklace?”
She pauses mid-loop. “If he were a civ – sorry, a civilian – you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did. As to your abilities, they’ll come quickly and you’ll be trained. But it’s the tether that’s your proof, that tug behind your bellybutton. You had your hand over your stomach when you came round at the governor’s.”
I knew what she meant. It was what frightened me the most, in Miriam’s alley memory, that primal tug, more than the impossible feats of speed and strength. “I don’t feel it now.”
“You will, as soon as you get near her again. It’s the true sign of your bond.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to hurt her? What did Phil do to that guy in the alley?”
“Phil didn’t do anything and neither did Kitty.” The bandage comes loose, Miriam sets it aside and we stare at the deep cut in the base of my thumb. She angles my wrist to examine it in the light. The cut glistens like a faceted ruby, glinting and hypnotic. “It’s called the Fixation Effect.” It’s what you experience when you think of Kitty, when you see her, what you feel, that sense of being drawn to her. For a Shield, it’s what compels us to protect our Spark. But for the Stray, you take everything you feel about Kitty and twist it so she no longer looks like the victim who needs your help but the virus destroying your sanity and threatening your life.”
“That’s impossible.”
She lowers my hand to the table and turns to her case. “Things are blurred for you because you already have a relationship with your Spark. You already care about her. Phil,” she rocks her head back to indicate the memory I’ve seen, “is a total bastard, who beats his wife and cheats at cards. You saw him. He’s not much different sober. Beyond a basic human decency, I have no reason to care about what happens to him, but you saw how I was, felt what I felt. I
had
to protect him.”
“You didn’t even know him?”
She arranges supplies on the table, scissors and gauze and tape. “I shook his hand at the office where I dropped off proofs after the shoot. That was it.”
I feel like I’m being pulled backwards, dragged by an undertow into rough waters. “Your whole Phil situation happened in the space of a week? A week!” My mouth snaps open and closed with the impossibility of it all. Me, facing off
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