“I don’t know. I had a sort of flashback last night. I thought I saw Mr. Santiago, and I shot him. Not really. It was laser tag. But I thought it was real.”
“I see. And how do you feel today?”
“Uncomfortable. Afraid of myself. It was so unexpected, I can’t help wondering when it will happen again.”
“Describe the setting. Where were you? You said, laser tag?”
I explained what the laser tag arena looked like, and how I’d mistaken the young man for Santiago. Sydney said, “It sounds like that environment enhanced your mind’s confusion over then and now. Would you have tried to shoot that young man if you’d met him on the street at noon?”
“I…don’t think so. He didn’t actually look anything like Mr. Santiago when I saw him clearly.”
“Your reaction is typical for someone who’s experienced a traumatic experience. You may have heard stories of soldiers with PTSD having flashbacks in response to a perfectly ordinary stimulus. A car backfiring, or a string of firecrackers going off. You were in a strange place with a gun in your hand and you saw your enemy, as you thought. You probably don’t have to worry about the same thing happening, as I said, on the street at noon.”
I breathed out in relief. “So I just have to pay attention to my surroundings?”
“More to the point, don’t play any games with pretend guns again.” Sydney chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you this might happen. My mistake.”
“It’s okay. It was frightening, but honestly, I feel more confident now. Like this is something I can control. Not like worrying I might hear a car backfire.”
“That’s true. Next time we meet, we’ll talk about possible triggers and what you can do to manage them. Is there anything else you need to talk about?”
“Not anything serious. I’m practicing meditation.” I didn’t mention the experience with the oracle. That was outside her area of expertise.
“Excellent. I’ll see you next week.”
I hung up and put my phone away. I did feel more confident. For the first time since killing Santiago, I felt at least some of my emotional reactions were under my control. No more laser tag.
I propped my elbows on the desk, rested my chin on my hands, and tried to recall what the oracle had told me before I fainted. It had said something about changing and adapting—no, it had said “they” change and adapt. If this was a warning, the oracle might have meant the invaders. That frightened me. The Wardens had found a way to counter their tactics, but that only made it more likely that the invaders would figure out some new way to attack.
I called Lucia and left a message: “The oracle says the invaders are going to adapt to our tactics. It didn’t say how, but I thought you should know.” Then I put my phone away again and stood. There was nothing more I could do except fill augury requests and hope Viv convinced Wallach to be sensible.
Viv showed up alone around 3:30, when the last of the Ambrosites had left. She wasn’t smiling. “I’m here for that scary augury,” she said. “I know I’m not allowed to study it unless Mr. Wallach gives me permission, but I’m hoping if he sees it lying around, he’ll give it to me just to get it out of his hair.”
“That’s perfectly acceptable,” I said. “It’s only $500. I think the oracle is tired of being ignored.” I handed her Something Wicked This Way Comes and accepted a handful of bills while Judy wrote out the receipt.
“He’s getting close to a practical solution.” Viv flipped through the pages, which I could see were clearly printed and not runny, which happened when an augury was illicitly gained. “At least, close to a test run. But Lucia is constantly in the lab, and I think he’s feeling pressured.”
“Lucia must be worried if she’s hovering,” Judy said.
“I told her today the oracle says the invaders are going to change their tactics,” I said. “At least, that’s how I understood it.”
“When did the oracle speak to you?” Judy asked, her eyes narrowing.
I described my encounter with the oracle. When I finished, Judy said, “And you passed out? That sounds dangerous.”
“I think I just forgot to breathe.”
“Um, yeah, that’s the dangerous part,” Viv said. “Especially since the oracle either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”
“It doesn’t really understand people.” I didn’t like Viv criticizing the oracle, not when I could remember how wonderful it had felt to commune with it. “It didn’t hurt me. That was all my fault.”
“Whatever,” Judy said. “You should be careful. The oracle may not want to hurt you, but if it sees you as its only way to communicate, it may put you in danger by accident.”
“I am careful,” I said irritably. “And I think the possibility of the invaders attacking successfully again is more important than my problems.”
“But there’s nothing we can do about that,” Viv said, “except hope Mr. Wallach has a solution soon.”
“I hate feeling helpless,” Judy said. She slapped the receipt book down on the counter.
“So do I,” I said, “which is why I don’t feel scared about speaking to the oracle. What if its warning is all we get the next time the invaders attack?”
Viv shuddered. “Don’t let’s think that way. I’m going to take this back to the node and hope Mr. Wallach sees sense.”
When she was gone, Judy said, “All the mail-in auguries have been processed. I’m going to run to the post office. Are there any other errands?”
“I don’t think so.” I sat on the metal stool behind the counter and put away the receipt book. “I hope someone comes in soon.”
“If you don’t want to be alone—”
“It’s not that. I can’t bear not being able to do something to help. I shouldn’t feel trapped by the store, but I do.”
“Promise me you won’t try that thing with the oracle unless there’s someone else here.” Judy looked as serious as I’d ever seen her, and it frightened me.
“I won’t. Promise.”
I watched her leave, then looked out the plate glass window at the warmly-lit street and the people passing by. Some of them wore paper face masks. Nobody seemed at all surprised by this. I realized I hadn’t heard what the CDC had reported at noon. I couldn’t imagine anyone believing those flimsy masks could protect anyone from a biological weapon.
It did make me wonder, though, what the mundane world thought was going on. Being drained of magic by an invader left signs of more ordinary illness, like heart attack or stroke. I didn’t know anything about medicine, so I couldn’t guess what bioweapon could cause those effects. Something traumatic, definitely.
I hopped down and headed for the basement. When I had nothing else to do, I cleaned. It always made me feel better. It would take a hell of a lot of cleaning to fix the mood I was in.
16
I woke early the following morning and took a long, relaxing bath rather than try to fall back asleep. Malcolm was still dead to the world when I finally toweled off and dressed. His premonition had come true; he’d come home three hours later than usual and looked bone-weary when he did. “People are overreacting,” he’d said, “seeing invaders where there are none. Everyone at Campbell Security spent the day ward-stepping all over the world to investigate false alarms.”