Astra: Synchronicity (17 page)

The small entourage marched toward the labs
in the East wing. A long row of portraits lined the main hallway of
the facility. Nadine led the way, her ruby dress a bold splash of
color against the stark walls around her. The click of her
stilettos on the hardwood floor echoed down the corridors, alerting
everyone in the area to her presence as she passed. Each step
brought her closer to her ultimate goal in life: to aid psions in
every way possible.

They slipped into the psionic research
laboratory. Nadine perched herself on a stool and laid her arm out
for the injection. "I wanted to let you all know you've been doing
some good work here. I've met a lot of grateful psions recently.
This really is a thankless job, and I appreciate your
dedication."

Dr. Roberts, the lead researcher, headed to
the counter where he prepared a vial for injection. He flicked the
syringe a few times and purged it of air. "It's in an alcohol base
so this might hurt a little bit."

She bit her bottom lip. "That's doctor-speak
for it's going to hurt a lot, right?"

He chuckled. "A minute maybe."

"That's what I thought." She took a deep
breath. "I hate shots, but I'm ready."

Dr. Roberts approached her and wiped her
forearm with an alcohol swab before making a quick injection. She
focused on his head of pure white hair to distract her from the
unpleasantness. The suspension went straight into her bloodstream
without breaking her skin. After several moments, the fluid spread
up her arm, scorching every cell as it flowed toward her heart. The
drug burned like acid on fire, and she couldn't imagine a more
horrible way to die.

Her face crumpled into a wince and her eyes
clenched shut. "You weren't kidding," she said. "How long should it
take to work?"

"A minute. Maybe two."

Every second of her discomfort dragged on in
such a way that time had no meaning. The lasting sting consumed her
entire body, and the pain brought a strong sense of vertigo. She
dug her nails into her palms to quell the agony, but she barely
felt them cut into her flesh. As it spread, it weakened, but the
effect didn't subside soon enough. Instead, her head started to
throb, her emotional state shot toward manic violence, and she lost
control of her psionics.

"It's a potent dose," Dr. Reboitz said. "I'd
imagine it's going to work fairly quickly since you're low on
gammamine right now."

"If this works, we'll all be able to go on a
long vacation," Dr. Roberts mused.

Open hostility churned in her mind with no
apparent trigger, and she lashed out at him. "Why? Do you think a
synthetic form of gammamine is the Holy Grail for psions?"

"Of course not," he said. "I meant no
offense."

She stood and backed away from them, her eyes
pulsating sorely. The compulsion to dive into his mind overpowered
her poised demeanor. "Yes you did. You're tired of working on this
project. You think it's a waste of time and money."

"Please, have a seat." Dr. Roberts urged her
in mild embarrassment.

Dr. Reboitz furrowed her brow. "Are you
feeling alright?"

"Do you have any idea how many innocent
psions are suffering because of this garbage?" Nadine picked up a
sink-full of glassware and smashed it on the floor. She didn't
throw people's private thoughts into their faces, but her actions
were out of her control. Suddenly, she winced and doubled over onto
her knees, clenching her head in her hands to keep it from hitting
the floor.

"Breathe, Nadine. Breathe. It's the drug.
Tell us what's wrong."

After a few unsteady breaths, the
excruciating pain diminished, and Nadine forced herself to look
toward them. "My head feels like it's about to explode."

Dr. Roberts helped her back to the stool,
where she sat down with her eyes still closed and her brows
clenched. "The dose was too strong," he chided his colleague.

"It had to be strong. We need to see if this
stuff is going to work on psions that are willing to kill for their
next fix."

"Fine bit of good that did. You know there's
no cutting corners when it comes to psionic pharmaceuticals."

"No one expected this sort of adverse
reaction to the drug. What happened?" Dr. Reboitz asked her.

Nadine focused onto the floor to keep her
thoughts grounded in reality and fought the lingering urge to
invade their privacy once more. "I felt compelled to use my powers.
I lost control. Of my emotions. Of my will power. And now I feel
more drained than ever."

"You were planning on stopping by the
hospital before you leave, correct?"

She nodded, the effects of the drug lingering
like a bad hangover.

Dr. Reboitz gestured toward the door. "Why
don't I take you there…"

After several calming inhalations, Nadine
stood and exited the room. She took an immediate left and plunged
outside into the bright afternoon. Her heels sank into the damp
earth as she hurried through the grass, and she tried not to twist
an ankle wresting them free. The doctor caught up to her, and two
of them made their way across campus to the Academy Hospital.

The Palmer Institute might be the foremost
research facility in the AC, but the Academy was a solid runner-up.
The Academy lured the best and brightest with hefty research
grants. United Europe's dedication to technological advancement had
grown considerably over the past decade resulting in a caste of
nouveau riche savants. The younger generation's push toward
meritocracy gained momentum and would someday be a reality.

The Academy was located in St. Ives, hundreds
of miles away from Northampton on a temperate coast in an ideal
setting. Year-round temperatures hovered on idyllic, flowers
bloomed with constant regularity, and the sunny days outnumbered
the gloomy ones. The wealthy owned seaside homes, and many had not
yet migrated back north from their winter respite. Every building
had been painted the same eggshell color topped by black, tile
roofs embedded with solar crystals. Another distinguishing feature
was the streets—paved with burgundy-brown maghemite when other
hover-compliant roads used black magnetite. Everything had been
funded by the wealthy inhabitants' strict homeowners association,
not government loans.

Unfortunately, Nadine could not admire the
scenic landscape around her. Earlier in the day, she hadn't been
able to take her eyes off the lush view of the ocean from here, but
the drug scrambled her thoughts and pushed them to a sociopathic
verge. She found it difficult to stave off the urge to force
herself into the doctor's mind. The drug altered her brain
chemistry and removed all inhibition. It took every shred of
willpower to stave off the effects and retain her sanity, and she
wondered if Aliane felt this way all the time. She squinted into
the sun and covered her eyes so her friend wouldn't see their
wicked glow.

When a lady walked by in a catsuit, Nadine
watched her until she disappeared. After two weeks, she already
missed Amii more than she ever thought she would. The woman was a
blank slate of innocent illusions untainted by suspicious
desperation. Xander enlisting her help meant her intelligence was
unparalleled, and her pretty face didn't hurt either. An unimposing
nature imbued her with curiosity and charm. Coming from anyone
else, the attitude would feel contrived, but it fit her because
nothing else did.

Nadine's fascination with the woman went
beyond the mundane. She never could read Amii's thoughts, and the
sensation was as unsettling as over-the-top public displays of
affection. Everyone had an inherent psychic aura, including many
animals. On their way to Northampton, Nadine concluded it was more
than a glitch due to her amnesia. Genetic variation seemed the only
logical answer. The ramifications for humanity would be profound if
scientists could unravel the mystery. However, she couldn't subject
her friend to medical scrutiny; she'd been down that road and she'd
wish that experience on no one even if it did benefit society as a
whole.

When they reached the hospital, Nadine
checked in at the front desk with a better handle on her psyche.
Once again, Amii had grappled her mental demons and beat them into
submission. As she rapped her nails on the counter and waited, she
wondered why her mental image of Amii differed from reality. She
projected the timid naïveté of a child. Was she sequestered in
Xander's compound on Pisa, forbidden to venture into potential
danger? Possible but not probable. No, she lost something with her
memories…something vital.

A young nurse with long black hair approached
the desk with a hateful smile. The nurses here all knew the reason
for the second lady's visit, and their collective frowns indicated
none approved of having her. Nadine's arrival meant she sought a
euthanasia patient: someone on their death bed requesting a
painless passing in order to ease their suffering in their final
days. Euthanasia had long been legal in the UE, but the fact that a
psion could administer the fatal end rubbed everyone the wrong
way.

Without a word, the nurse gestured for the
two of them to follow her. Her blue lab coat billowed out behind
her due to her haughty stride. She led them down a series of
sterile white corridors, each looking the same as the next, until
they came to a room at the end. The nurse handed Dr. Reboitz a
specialized biometrics scanner before casting a scornful glance at
the second lady and leaving in silence.

The doctor glanced over the file on its small
screen. "This is Grace Summers. Age eighty-one. She was in a
hovermobile accident about a year ago…was in a coma and is now
suffering from progressive organ failure. Are you ready?"

Nadine nodded and the two stepped into the
small room.

The elderly woman lay in her bed with her
arms resting across her stomach. Her long pink nightgown flattered
her silver hair. Grace turned her head in acknowledgement of their
presence and smiled like her prayers had been answered. "Nadine
Taylor, by Astra…you're more beautiful than I thought you'd
be."

As Dr. Reboitz strolled to the counter to
prepare a mild sedative, the second lady grabbed a stool and rolled
it up next to the woman's bed. "How are you doing today,
Grace?"

"Better than I been in a long time," she said
and took Nadine's hand, patting it before clenching it tightly.
"They took out all those machines they had hooked up to me this
morning. That was when I knew you'd be coming."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" the psion
asked. "You can still change your mind."

Grace shook her head. "Should've died in that
accident a year ago, but I got cheated out of it. There's no reason
to sit around and wait. I been enough of a burden. My next journey
is waiting. They asked me how I wanted to go, and I needed it to
mean something. All them people hating on you—I don't know where
their heads are. You're a real lady."

Nadine fought back tears as she stared into
Grace's eyes. Taking the lives of good people this way tore up her
heart. "Do you have any children?"

"Seven," she answered. "Plus nineteen
grandchildren and five great grandchildren. They all live in Waring
on New Ireland. A lot of people say it's just like Dublin back on
Earth. I have five sisters, a few with more kids than me."

"Wow, sounds like an amazing family."

"We take a trip to the Black Cliffs every
summer. It's a madhouse of a week but always worth seeing them all.
What about you, hon? Don't you want to have kids? It's never too
late to start."

"I'm not sure I'd want them to grow up in a
society that hates psions so much."

"Times are changing," Grace said. "When I was
a girl, I remember public hangings in the streets. Lynchings. And
today, here in Chara, psions have the same rights as us normal
people. Don't let old prejudices decide for you."

"You're a wise woman. Maybe someday I
will."

Nadine forced a smile to hide her guilt.
Never before had she wanted to back out of putting someone at
peace. She reminded herself that the woman's days were already
numbered and spent on the cusp of unbearable pain. How Grace stared
into the eyes of death without pause epitomized courage. No
resignation—only bravery. Her strength made the psion feel small by
comparison.

Dr. Reboitz walked around the other side of
the bed. "I'm ready whenever you are, Grace."

The old woman looked at Nadine one last time.
"Thank you for freeing my pain. One day, I hope we meet again."
With that, she nodded to the doctor to administer the shot.

She stuck the nebulization syringe to Grace's
arm and emptied it. "Count backwards from ten for me."

She closed her eyes. "Ten…nine…"

After a few seconds, Nadine reluctantly stood
and placed her hand on the crown of Grace's head. The warmth felt
good against her cool fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, Dr.
Reboitz winced; she hated this part.

"Goodbye, Grace," Nadine whispered. A single
tear rolled down her face. "May you find happiness in your next
life."

When the moment passed, she clenched her brow
and dove into the woman's brain, seeking her life force with
unbreakable concentration. A soft blue glow emanated from her hand,
which radiated energy up through her arm into her mind. By all
accounts, channeling gammamine painlessly required more effort than
ripping every molecule out of them in pure agony. The process took
a great deal more time, practice, and control.

A transparent sheen began to appear on
Nadine's hand, an unusual side effect that scientists didn't
understand. The compound was a complex molecule called gluene,
revealed to be an accurate psionic fingerprint. The structure of
gluene varied from psion to psion, loosely based on the DNA of the
victim as well as DNA of the psion. Ten years ago, its discovery
won a team of Altair scientists the Nobel Prize for Chemistry.
Today, gluene was used to convict psions of mind crimes.