Luminosity (5 page)

I smile at him. “Yes. I do.”

Daniel waits until the last signature registers, and only then does he begin the class. “Good. I am glad we are all on board today.”

We don’t have a choice.

“So, we are going to start with the creation of the Seers. How did we come to be? How come our abilities are so different from one another?” Daniel looks at me when he says this, but I pretend not to notice. Everyone sitting here knows that my Visions are almost clearer than those of the Keeper herself. They very well could be, since no one ever talks about her Visions anyway.

“Thousands of years ago, Seers existed among society. They were given the gift of prophecy from the ancient gods, or, as we know it, the Maker. Most were described as being blind, others as speaking in riddles and nothing more, but the one thing they did have in common was that they were oft respected and revered for their Sight.

“But as history wore on, the Seers were spoken of less and less, and eventually they disappeared out of the stories and recollections altogether. Those who claimed they had the Sight were mocked and abused as being false and nothing but entertainers at best. Some, the rare who actually possessed the gift, were used for profit, and those who had the money to purchase the Seers’ services were the only ones who could benefit from their Sight.” Daniel paused here and clicked a button on the small remote that he carried in his hand. Images of the evolution of Seers flipped over the screen, from women with long hair who sat on high, golden stools, to old men with wrinkled, blind eyes who were kept in shackles, penned up in side-show trailers.

“And then the world was left without Seers altogether. Terrible things happened, wars destroyed whole cities, and mankind was reduced to almost nothing. That is when the Institution decided that it needed to recreate the gift of Sight once more. If people could See into the future, then they could prevent the possibility of great ba
ttles annihilating what was left of man.”

The screen flickers again, and this time a very old picture of the Institution pops up, rising high above the City, with suited people walking in and out of its rotating doors. Nowadays, it’s very rare for people to come and go from the Institution, since there really isn’t a time when Seers would venture into the City, or Citizens into the Institution. I lean forward in my seat, squinting to make out the details of the photograph. Flowers and shrubbery used to be planted around the building, and flower boxes were placed in almost every window, supporting hanging blossoms that dripped down the sides. It looks beautiful, nothing like the industrial, stern structure that we have now.

Daniel continues with his lesson, entrapping each of us in his every word. “And so they made a serum that was secretly placed in the City’s drinking water. This serum was tested for many years in the safety of the Institution, and it was said that it would search the genes of the Citizens and find only those who had the original mutation of the Sight, eventually restoring the ability to them. It could take just once, or it could take generations, the Institution did not know for sure.”

Another student raises her hand, and with a nod from Daniel she stands up and asks her question. “How long ago was this, then?”

The Instructor points at her, smiling. “Good question. This was about four generations ago. So, it is still new and fresh in our history, but it’s not something we like to…linger on.”

“Why?” I ask, curious as to why we keep this a secret.

“Well, because the serum didn’t only bring out our ability, but it also amplified that of the Dreamcatcher. Essentially, we manufactured our own enemy, a kind of people who possess certain Seer-like abilities, but can only look back in time and not forward.”

“So we made up our own enemy?” another student calls out, her tone a bit incredulous.

“We sure did. Dreamcatchers function a bit differently as well, each having their own sort of niche. They need Citizens to recharge and heal themselves. They must have Citizens in order to thrive. They are their strength and their weakness.” Daniel clicks a button and pictures of The City start to scroll across the screen.

Now Gabe speaks up. “So what happened to the serum? If everyone started to freak out about the Dreamcatchers?”

“The serum eventually had to be discontinued, as the Keeper ruled it too dangerous if it was also bringing about the Dreamcatchers. They were becoming much too powerful, their mutations changing even more every day. Their power to See into the past and know one’s intentions started to shift into much, much more.”

He paused the pictures on the Institution, a newer photo, one that reflected the state of the grim building the way it looked now, with its shadowy exterior and tinted windows. Sleek and refined, the architecture was vastly different than the faded brick row homes and stores of the City. “A device called the Beacon was created for the rare event that the effects of the serum need to be reversed. It also destroys any matter that comes into its light, turning the object to dust, or so they say. We know very little about the Beacon, as its particulars are kept under wraps. Even the oldest Seers have no idea what the extent of its power is, and as an Instructor, I’m left in the dark as to what else I can say about it. I’m not even exactly sure where it is kept. Or if it still exists.”

The class is eerily quiet as we are left to digest the information just given to us. It’s the tip of the iceberg, as there’s probably so much more to the story than we are allowed to know. I raise my eyebrows when Gabe looks at me, and with a shrug of my shoulder I let him know that I’m as shocked and confused as he is.

“I know it is a lot to process. It is. It’s hard to think about the Dreamcatchers coming from the same source that has given us our abilities. It’s hard to comprehend what the serum truly did, and why we need a weapon in case it was a mistake ever putting it in the drinking water. I sincerely hope, despite the recent Visions of an impending attack—” Daniel looks at me when he says this. “—that we never have to see the Beacon in action.”

A boy who sits a few seats to the left of me muses aloud, “I never knew about any of this stuff. It’s all so…so…amazing.”

Instructor Daniel flicks the lights back on and the projector turns off, stealing away the image of the Institution in the process. “We have a lot that goes into our history, ladies and gentlemen. Some you will learn as you continue your education here at the Institution, but there’s much of it that you won’t ever be able to find out. We must trust in our Keeper that it is best this way, for sometimes too much knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

Gabe laughs and whispers, “Then they shouldn’t make us sit in class all day long.”

Brandon, Connie and I giggle along with the sentiment, and I peek up at the Instructor to see if he heard. Luckily, Daniel is busy answering a question from another student, and we are in the clear. The class dissipates into their own conversations, little groups and discussions forming about what we just learned.

“Well, it seems we learn something new about the Institution every day, don’t we?” Connie picks her multi-pocketed book bag off the ground and slips her digipad into it.

“This place certainly has its secrets.” I chew on my lip, the words bringing about an uneasy feeling, like a premonition of things to come, without an actual Vision to accompany it. “Too many secrets.”

Chapter Eight

I don’t remember my parents at all, but sometimes I dream about them. I know they are dreams and not Visions because I never wake with my eyes glowing, or the headache that usually follows. The people and events in my Visions usually feel strange and disconnected. But when I wake up from a dream about my parents, I feel as if I know them, as if I’ve always known them, as if they are disappointed in me.

In one dream, I’m about to take part in the Seeing Ceremony. I am ready to officially act in my role as a Seer, but I am young. Too young. Usually, you do not get to this point until eleven or twelve years of age, but in my dream, I am maybe three, and I feel so lost and abandoned on the stage, standing in front of a hundred strangers. They are all wearing white, faces void of any emotion or indication that they care for me even a little bit. In the middle of the crowd, the only two people in color are my mother and my father.

They look totally different than I do. Instead of jet black hair, my mother has curly ringlets of gold, and my father’s head is bald, reflecting the glimmering overhead lights. Mother is wearing a polka-dot dress, red with white dots and a high collar with buttons that stop just under the chin. It’s classic and beautiful on her, and no one else looks as radiant as she does. My father is wearing a red suit, one that looks far too expensive for a Seeing Ceremony, but maybe he wanted to look his best while watching his daughter earn her raven’s wings.

I realize, though, that I am the only person on the stage, and I suddenly feel very alone. I begin to cry for my parents. They don’t react, and instead keep staring at me as if I am a complete stranger. How can I know who they are, but they do not know I am their daughter, waiting for them to come and get me, waiting for them to hold me and hug me and assure me that the rest of my life is going to be okay? I can do this. I can handle the pressure of being one of the greatest Seers the Institution has ever had. I can handle the pressure that comes along with informing the City if the next day will be safe or not.

But they aren’t coming to hold me, and I’m left on the stage, little fists balled up to my teary eyes, crying. Out in the crowd, my parents’ color starts to fade away. My mother’s dress is going from a howling red to a faded, dull grey. Eventually, she blends in with everyone else, along with my father. She seems distant now, and there’s some sort of recognition for me in her eyes, like she truly knows me and my pain, but it soon fades. They both disappear within the sea of white, and I can no longer discern them from the others. My parents are gone, and I am alone.

But when I turn to run off the stage, I am different. I am grown-up, and a grown-up Gabe steps out to block my way. He holds out his arms to embrace me, and I don’t feel so alone anymore.

…

A month later, Brandon finally earns his wings. After his successfully reporting full consecutive Visions without any confusion, the Keeper deemed it time for him to join the Seeing Ceremony, along with a few others who have been waiting for their day to come. The Ceremony is today, and I am excited to have a day off from our brutal training.

From my closet, I pull out a flowing gown. It is white and plain, with only a long, ribboned bow to tie in the back. Everyone wears white on the day of a Seeing Ceremony, instead of our day-to-day black and grey jumpsuits and robes. It is a time of celebration, to acknowledge one another and the gift that we’ve been given. To be happy to be what we are. I think of my dream parents in red, bold against the stark white of the crowd. I think of my mother who seemed to know me, but suddenly didn’t anymore.

I decide to leave my hair down, which is rare. There’s too much of it, to be honest. And it’s too thick for its own good. I sometimes debate wanting to cut it all off, to keep it short and by my ears, but Mae and Connie always tell me how jealous they are of my long hair, and for whatever reason, I listen to them when they insist on not cutting it.

The black tresses tumble down almost to my waist, and I drag some of it behind my ears to keep it out of my face. When I look in the mirror, I can hardly believe the girl standing there is me. I look radiant, like a light in the darkness. What will Gabe think when he sees me in my gown? Will he even care?

Sometimes, I wish we were allowed makeup like the Citizens. I think I’d look pretty with some lipstick or blush, but the Keeper has banned cosmetics, reminding us always that we are not here to be vain, we are here to See and protect the people. She is the only one to wear make-up, and usually only does so for important ceremonies.

Someone knocks on my door and I snap out of staring at my reflection. I push a button and the door slides open, revealing Mae and Connie dressed in their white gowns.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Mae spins in a circle and the skirts of her dress open up around her like a blossoming flower.

Connie reaches out and touches some of my hair. “You look so pretty with your hair down, Bea.”

“Thanks.” I smile at her compliment and am filled with hope that Gabe will think the same. “Are you both ready?”

“Just waiting on you. Gabe’s down the hall. He said he’d meet us at the hub.” Connie lets the hair drop back into place.

I follow them to where Gabe is. Everyone in the halls is dressed in white, the girls in their gowns, and the boys in their ceremonial robes. Gabe stands, staring down another corridor, his right arm folded over his chest, grabbing the other arm.

“Gabe! We got her!” Mae is a bit on the hyper side today, and her voice easily rises above the others. She nudges me and grins. “Go get ‘em.”

Connie has some cinnamon candies with her, and she starts to pop them in her mouth. The spicy scent wafts in the air as she chews into them, one-by-one.

Gabe fleetingly looks at Mae when she calls to him, but his eyes are immediately drawn to me. When he sees that I’ve noticed his stare, he glances away, and a blush quickly follows. I pretend I didn’t see it, but I feel the same blush warm my stomach from the inside, and I glance away too.

“Let’s go, or we are going to be late. Brandon will never forgive us.” Gabe speaks to no one in particular and starts walking. We follow him, Mae half skipping, Connie chewing on her candy, and me hoping Gabe will look at me like that again.

The closer we get to the Meeting Room, the larger the crowd becomes. We funnel through the doors, and the anxiety of my Vision comes rushing back, seizing me. I stop a moment and the people behind me crash into my frozen form. A few swear at me, which draws Connie’s attention.

“Are you coming, Bea? Let’s go! We want to get a good place to stand.” Connie pulls my hand and drags me into the room. I have no choice but to follow.

We push and shove our way to the front of the standing area. Huge screens have been set up so everyone can see the proceedings, even if they can’t see the stage. I find I am not the only one looking around, though. Everyone takes note of the armored and machine gun carrying Watchmen who are stationed on the catwalks and the second floor landing. Their guns are held close to their chests, at ease, but every one of them is on alert.

“What is all this for?” Mae’s previous sunny nature is dampened, and the brightness that warmed her features begins to fade.

“It’s because of Beatrice,” Gabe notes flatly. The truth stings me, and I feel it in my bones. It is because of me; it has to be.

“Because of Beatrice?”

“Please don’t say that too loudly.” I notice a few glances shot in my direction from the people around me. Some even back away, perhaps afraid that they’ll be shot if the Watchmen have to open fire.

Mae repeats in a whisper, “Because of Bea?”

“Yes. Remember her last Vision?” Gabe continues, despite my request to keep it quiet. Others are listening, though they pretend not to. “The Keeper probably called the Watchmen here, just in case. After all, we are all gathered in one place…just like we were in her Vision.”

With a mouthful of candy, Connie adds, “But we were all dead in her Vision.”

A pause.

Gabe points to the Watchmen. “And that is why they are here. To keep that from happening.”

If the other Seers didn’t know about my Vision before, they certainly will now. Like ripples of water, they begin to whisper to one another and the story spreads outward until everyone looks a bit panicked.

“Great, Gabe,” I mutter, but before I can say anything more, the Keeper steps out onto the stage and to her podium. She is also dressed in white, and her hair has been intricately curled and pinned up. Her gown is so long it drags on the floor behind her, looking as if her feet aren’t touching the ground when she walks. The effect almost makes her look pretty.

Then there is her raven, a stark contrast against her white gown. The black bird caws loudly and stretches his wings out to an impressive span. Pushing off her shoulder, he flies to a wooden perch that has been set up by the edge of the stage.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Seeing Ceremony.” When the Keeper speaks, she uses her arms and gestures in long, graceful motions. She reminds me of a giant bird when she does this, especially in her flowing skirts, which continue to settle about her, like ruffled feathers returning to their natural state.

“Today we are here to mark Seer Brandon, Seer Lacey, and Seer Emelia as full Seers. They have earned their wings after their diligent dedication and intense studies. In keeping with our Code, they’ve successfully reported their Visions to me, their Keeper, and I’ve deemed the clarity of those Visions to be acceptable.”

On the large projection screen, I watch as the camera zooms in on Brandon’s chubby cheeks as they pull back into a wide smile. He’s scanning the crowd for us, but we are so buried in the thick of it all, he’ll probably never succeed in finding us.

When I look around, people are still staring at me. They continue to whisper, and very few of them actually pay attention to the Ceremony. Those who aren’t looking at me stare up at the Watchmen pacing back and forth with their machine guns.

The Keeper probably knows there is a distraction, because she clears her throat in an attempt to draw attention back to the proceedings. “Seers, I wish for you all to take one another’s hands as we pray together and give thanks to the Maker for the gift of our Sight. We’ll pray for the continued clarity of Seer Brandon, Seer Lacey, and Seer Emelia’s Visions, and we will pray that we all remain protected from the threat of the Dreamcatchers.”

My fingers brush against someone else’s fingers, and after they intertwine with mine, I look up to find Gabe knowingly staring down at me. He bows his head and prays, whispering the words loudly enough so I can hear them. It’s not until he’s halfway through his prayer that I realize he’s not praying at all, but is speaking to me. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on…but if you need my help, I am here for you. Just as long as you stop lying to me.”

Covered by hundreds of other whispers, I continue our conversation by “praying” in return. “I am not lying to you, Gabe.”

“Then what are you doing?”

I stare into his violet eyes. “I told you. I’m protecting you.”

The prayers around us taper to an end. Gabe and I look back to the stage, where the Keeper is motioning for the tattoo artists to come out and set up their stations. Around us, caterers pull sheets off long tables that are lined up around the perimeter of the arena floor. They reveal different kinds of pastries, cakes, and bowls of multi-colored punch, a pleasant distraction from the presence of the Watchmen who continue to be on guard.

“While our Seers are enduring the application of their tattoos, please feel free to visit the refreshment tables.” The Keeper makes one of those birdlike sweeping motions toward them.

Usually, there would be a rush for the tables at this point, but no one is moving right away. People are still staring at me.

Gabe is still holding my hand. He tugs it, encouraging me to head toward the food. “Maybe the others will follow.”

“It doesn’t look like it. You shouldn’t have said anything.” I can’t help but to be a little spiteful. Now I’m not only the Seer who predicted the invasion of the Dreamcatchers, but I’m also the Seer who predicted everyone else’s deaths.

“They deserve to know the truth.” Gabe politely nudges people out of his way as he heads toward the pastries and other goodies. Mae and Connie follow after, gabbing to each other.

“But it’s not the truth. We don’t know what the truth is yet, Gabe.”

“But you saw it.”

“And not everything I See turns out to be true!” I stop walking, forcing Gabe to come to a stop with me.

He frowns and lets go of my hand. “Most of what you See comes true. Most of it. That is why you are so important to the Institution, and we are all nothing.”

“That’s not entirely correct—”

“It is! Look around! The Watch is here because of what you saw. But if I saw the same thing, the Keeper wouldn’t even have acted on it. She’d just chalk it up to another fuzzy Vision. She’d put it on her list of ‘Maybes’ and leave it at that. But if you told her that tomorrow we’d all turn into fish, she’d fill the arena up with water in preparation.” Gabe’s speech has caught the attention of many others, including the Keeper. From the stage, I can see her watching us, and even though she can’t hear what is being said, she can see the way the others are anxiously crowding around Gabe and me.

“Keep it down,” I hiss, my gaze flickering to the others. By the time Gabe is through, they will hate me. I don’t understand why he insists on continuing, why he would put me in this position. Gabe is supposed to be my friend, he’s supposed to care for me, not put me out there in front of everyone. And I do mean everyone, because by the end of the day, the whole arena will have heard of this conversation.

He does listen, though, at least as far as quieting down goes. His violet eyes find mine, and I detect a hint of sadness in the way that he stares at me. “You can’t deny it.”

“I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t know what my Vision meant, and I don’t know what will happen…and if the Keeper wants to act on everything that I say to her, that is her choice. But please stop making this my problem. I can’t control what I See, and I can’t control what the Keeper wants to do with it.” When I look back at the table, Connie has already picked up about ten pastries, with one shoved into her mouth. I want to smile, but the weight of everyone staring in my direction prevents me from doing so.