The front door opened. Brandon stumbled in and barely had time to react as Marvain rushed to hug him. It was only after he realized she wasn’t attacking him that he returned the hug.
“It’s done,” he mumbled over her shoulder.
Marvain was silent for a few moments. “So, he’s out of our lives now?”
He pulled back and put his hands on her shoulders. An echo of the hallucination still played out in his mind’s eye. He pursed his lips, fighting the urge to ask her about their finances. “I doubt it. He got what he wanted, but his plan wasn’t a total success.”
“Why? What happened?”
He looked past her through the open front door. She turned and they walked through and closed it. He sat down on the sofa and laid back. She sat next to him but remained alert. “What’s happening at the lab? I’ve never seen you home this early.”
“Police investigation,” Brandon said as he rubbed his forehead. “Hector’s team is there, but they won’t find much.”
Marvain’s eyes widened. “Was someone killed?”
“No,” Brandon replied, then blinked. “At least, I don’t think. Nobody was hurt physically, anyway. Zandith wasn’t there to kill anyone. He was there to acquire a special crystal of his that was brought to our lab for analysis several weeks ago.”
“Is that the top-secret project you couldn’t tell me about?”
Brandon nodded.
“Then why are you telling me about it now?”
“Because if you see anyone with a crystal engraved with ancient symbols on it, I want you to run.”
“Why? How can a crystal like that be any more dangerous than any other crystal?”
Brandon lifted his head off the pillow to look at her more directly. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Marvain chuckled nervously. “You’re just making me want to know more!”
He laid his head back down and closed his eyes, sighing. “He tried to subdue me with some kind of hypnosis mind-control thing. He called me… Specter Seven, whatever the hell that means.”
Marvain put a hand to her chest, her eyes widening again. “Are you saying he tried to recruit you?”
“That’s what it seemed like, though it would never have been through my free will. That’s why he needed the crystal, I guess. It’s the only one he has. Said he doesn’t have any more of the energy to create another one.”
She turned toward him more. “How do you know all this?”
Brandon snorted in humor. “I asked him while we were in the elevator. He apparently thinks my knowing any of this doesn’t affect his plans. In retrospect, it was probably because he thought I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone else because I would’ve become his zombie puppet. At the very least, it was satisfying to see him scamper off with his tail between his legs when he realized it didn’t work.”
“Why didn’t it work?” Marvain asked.
“I have no idea,” Brandon admitted as he leant up into a sitting position. He was about to get up when Marvain put her hand on his. “Wait, you had to have done something.”
He lowered his head, trying to ignore the intense imagery of the hallucination. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Brandon, I have to know,” she said, gripping his hand lightly. “If there’s a way to escape this… hypnosis thing, I have to know, as well as others! If we can make others immune to his tactics, we’re one step closer to bringing him down.”
Brandon shrugged. “I can hardly remember. It’s all just a blurry memory. There was this fractal pattern thing that sprang from the crystal, then I kind of fell into it and found myself in, well, hell! I felt like shit, all my worst fears playing out before my eyes, with nothing I could do. It got worse and worse and worse, until I just panicked.” Brandon blinked, realizing a tear was tricking down his cheek. He wiped it against his sleeve. “All I could do was cry out for help, so that’s what I did.”
He took a few deeps breaths to calm his racing heart. Marvain’s eyes were watery too.
“Then what happened?” she asked in a small voice.
“Ironically, a miracle, in my opinion,” he said, chuckling. “And you know what I think about miracles. A blue hand appeared out of nowhere and touched me on the forehead, right here.” He tapped a finger in between his eyebrows. “Some type of energy pulsed through my body, and the illusions dissolved almost immediately. That was when Zandith realized it hadn’t worked.”
Marvain was silent, looking around the living room. Brandon could tell she wasn’t satisfied with his answer, so he continued, “After Zandith escaped, I started hearing things… And seeing things.”
She looked at him. “He tried again?”
“No, he had probably left the campus as soon as I got to the surface. Whatever he did, it had some sort of lingering effect on me. I was hearing voices when I met with Rich and the guards. It was almost like I was hearing their thoughts.”
“Hearing their thoughts?” Marvain repeated. She stood up, taking his hand with her. “Brandon, you need to go to the hospital.”
“No,” Brandon objected, taking his hand back and refusing to stand with her. “I’m fine. The effect is gone. Everything is back to normal. Rich gave me the rest of the day off, and possibly the rest of the week if I need it.”
“Are you planning on going to the University tonight?” Marvain asked as she sat back down.
“I might as well go,” he said. “Sometimes teaching clears my mind. I don’t plan on taking the rest of the week off either.”
A few moments of silence passed before Marvain spoke up cautiously. “Are you still going to go after Zandith after all this?”
Brandon’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He so desperately wanted to say yes, but the thought of getting near that psychopath again made his chest constrict. He had escaped his grasp once. What were the chances of escaping again if Zandith tried again? He wasn’t any good to his friends or family if he was under Zandith’s control.
“I don’t know,” Brandon said, looking Marvain in the eyes. “He’s confronted all three of us now, and each of us has been traumatized in our own ways. I think I need to recover first. We need to recover first. Then, I might consider taking action against him.” He took her hand and put his other hand on top of it. “One thing I have to say, however, is that I’m sorry for yelling at you last night.”
Marvain started to reply. “You don’t need to—"
“Yes, listen, Marvain. We both had good points, and we were both right to some degree. Like I said at the time, I didn’t understand, and now I know why. An encounter with someone that… fucked up in the head, leaves you scarred. I knew you were afraid, but I didn’t know how much that changed things inside until I experienced that for myself. That scar you have. It flares every time you think of him, doesn’t it?”
Marvain gave a subtle nod, staring at the floor. Brandon put a hand on his chest. “Now I feel it too, and it hurts like hell. I thought I was good at walking through hell, but…” He frowned. “I guess that was just my ego talking. I’m not sure I could survive another encounter like that and stay sane. I don’t know how Evan bears this every day.”
“He’s doing fine,” she said, giving him a soft smile. “The strategy of not completely spoiling him is paying off. Our boy is staying strong. He’s still working on his hoverboard, and he’s going to be released from the hospital in a few days. He can walk somewhat normally, and he falls when he tries to run.”
“Sounds like he’s doing the best out of the three of us, then,” Brandon said, returning the smile. He stood slowly. “I think I should see him before class, actually. I’ve got a few hours.”
Marvain got up with him. “I like that idea. I’ll stay here and try to catch up on sleep.”
“Yeah, you definitely need it.”
***
Evan was reading an article on his laptop when the recovery room door opened. He smiled as his dad walked in. “Glad to see you survived jail.”
“Oh, yes,” Brandon said as he sat in the chair next to Evan’s bed. “It’s great to be free. I’m definitely driving ten miles below the speed limit from now on."
"Wait." Evan looked at the time on his wrist pad. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Well, about that…” Brandon rubbed his hands together, averting his gaze. “There was an incident at the lab, so I’m off for the day.”
Evan’s face went serious. “What happened?”
Brandon sighed, then looked Evan in the eyes. “Zandith happened.”
He saw fear shoot through Evan’s body. Evan unconsciously put a hand over his lower abdomen where he’d been stabbed.
“Was anyone killed?” he asked.
“No,” Brandon said, then snorted a chuckle. “That’s the same thing your mother asked right after I told her. No, something arguably worse happened. He stole a highly classified object.”
“The one he told me about…” Evan murmured, his gaze going distant as he recalled the memory. He looked back at his dad. “What was it?”
“A crystal engraved with a bunch of symbols.”
“Engraved?” Evan burrowed his eyebrows. “I thought—”
“They’re indestructible,” Brandon interrupted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Apparently, some type of energy is capable of making changes in the Aetherically reinforced structure of the crystal, but it can’t work like typical Aether. It’s potentially a whole new set of physics.”
“What can the crystal do?”
Brandon shook his head. Evan and Marvain had way too much in common. “Let’s just agree that if you ever see a crystal with engravings on it, run. And don’t look at it again.”
“Is he going to come for us?” Evan asked, growing more tense.
“No… Well, I don’t know,” Brandon said, putting his hands up innocently. “Maybe not immediately, and don’t expect an apology from him. He cares only for himself and will trample anyone in his way.”
“So, he’s the world’s most powerful psychopath,” Evan suggested.
“I suppose you’re right,” Brandon pondered, leaning on the arm of the chair. “Other than maybe a few Eredoran politicians and the Trellendekian king.”
Evan smiled at that. He turned his laptop to face Brandon. “At least, if something happens, I’ll be able to make a fast getaway.”
Brandon leaned in, narrowing his eyes. “What is this?”
“The latest schematic for the Aetheric power module,” Evan bragged. “It’s a well-known law of physics that there is no such thing as an idle engineer.”
“I can see that,” Brandon said. “The difference is night and day from your first version. The new crystal configuration should work nicely, though it’s going to cost you some big bucks to build two of them. Do you know how much motors like these cost?”
Evan shrugged. “If I commission from an independent source, not as expensive.”
“But what about the quality?”
“I’m going to watch him as much as I can. If it starts breaking down, I’ll have a better shot at repairing it myself. Plus, it’s not a great idea to put a lot of money down on a prototype. There are bound to be future versions.”
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“Have you found anyone suitable?”
“Yes,” Evan said, turning the laptop to himself. “Found this guy on Connect. He’s the cheapest one I could find, he has some good reviews, and as a bonus, he’s a twenty-minute drive away.” He turned the laptop back to Brandon to show him the Connect profile.
“‘Laski Services,’” Brandon mumbled, staring at the profile picture. How was this possible? Evan had found Strucka’s profile. Brandon debated with himself for a few moments, but then decided to not say much about it.
“What do you think?” Evan said after thirty seconds of silence.
“Good luck,” Brandon said, pursing his lips. “He’s got decent credentials, but nothing outstanding. You’re going to have to work with him to see if he’s really up to it.”
Evan turned the laptop back again. “He’s got to be, otherwise I gotta wait another year to be able to afford the next cheapest guy I found.”
“Are you still going to work at the refinery after what happened?” Brandon asked.
“Yes, I don’t see why not. The refinery has nothing to do with Zandith, and if he got what he wanted, then I don’t matter to him anymore.”
“You’re right about the refinery, but not about Zandith. We don’t know what he’s up to, so I wouldn’t make any assumptions. If you think he’s around, you call me or Hector immediately.” Brandon stood and patted Evan’s leg. “Are these working yet?”
Evan wiggled his toes. “Almost there, my balance is good and I’ll be released in a couple days. At-home therapy continues for another week while I practice running, and then I should be able to use the hoverboard when it starts working.”
“After you get your power armor,” Brandon said with a smirk.
“After I get my power armor,” Evan moaned, letting his head flop down on the pillow. “Dammit.”
“It’s alright, bud. You’ll get there.” Brandon started for the door. “I’m going to the University early today. There’s a lot to catch up on.”
“Okay, later,” Evan said, his gaze already absorbed back into his laptop.
“Later,” Brandon echoed. He nodded to the three Eredore Guards in the hallway. “Gentlemen.”
They returned the gesture.
Half an hour later, Brandon arrived at the Murker parking lot. The sight of the campus trees lining the sidewalks brought him a sense of normalcy he didn’t realize he needed. They seemed to beckon him to a safe haven somewhere in their midst. He even felt shielded by them a bit with the way their branches intertwined overhead, like they were bracing for an incoming impact. He was thankful that the campus planners had spared the trees during the construction process, and had in fact incorporated them into the design. The rest of the city was barren in comparison.
He had just walked under an overhang when he heard a faint whispering coming from a park bench. A quick glance revealed a student entranced by his wristpad. Its transparent screen extension flowed with text and graphs. There was nothing odd about the scene, but something within Brandon was triggered to high alert. He forced himself to look away and keep walking.
He turned a corner and went through the double doors. He held the door for a relatively new teacher whose name escaped him. She seemed to be in a hurry and only had time to give him a subtle nod of acknowledgement. Just before he continued on his way, he heard her say, “Don’t know why he’s back…”
Brandon looked back at her, confused. “Excuse me?”
The teacher froze, then turned to look at him after some hesitation. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse. “Yes?”
Brandon suppressed a snort. That last comment was obviously about him. Her look of innocence was good. He gave her that.
“Did you want to tell me something?” Brandon asked, injecting venom into the question.
She blinked several times, caught in the trance of reviewing the last couple seconds. She shook her head gently. “No, sir.”
‘Sir.’ Wow, she’s a timid one. Definitely new, He thought. He gestured to the space between them. “Didn’t you say something just now?”
Her posture stiffened ever so slightly. “No, I didn’t.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t?”
She nodded slowly with a hint of annoyance. “Correct. I wouldn’t have said anything because I’m already late for an appointment.”
He was taken aback by her sudden change of tone, but still managed a casual wave. “Okay then, have a nice day.”
She turned and walked away without another word; a bit faster than earlier. He stared at the spot she had been standing. There was that ominous feeling again. Same as back near that park bench. A tingling sensation touched his forehead in between his eyebrows. He instinctively massaged it with a knuckle. He let the door close and looked around the hallway. Damn bugs.
He took a step, then the events of the past minute all suddenly clicked into place, and he hated the picture it painted. The student on the park bench. He was whispering, but his mouth wasn’t moving. The new teacher had said something about him, then denied she had said anything. The tingly forehead…
His palms grew sweaty with his next thought. It’s still affecting me?
He shook his head violently, then clapped his cheeks a few times. He set off at a brisk pace en route to his office, mumbling to himself. “C’mon doofus, you’re psyching yourself out. Just forget about it and move on.”
The corridors seemed to stretch longer with each step he took. He just wanted to get to his office without coming across another person, lest he repeat the experience he just had.
The door to his office slammed shut harder than he had intended. He slumped his shoulder against the door, gripping the handle for support. His knuckles went white, and he grabbed his wrist with his other hand to stop the trembling. He looked around his office. It greeted him in its usual dull manner, not too many decorations and nothing out of place. The only indication that it was his office was the metal name plate on the desk.
Brandon's chair creaked as he dropped into it. He checked his wristpad for the time. 45 minutes until class started. Good. Plenty of time for the effect to wear off again.
He woke up his computer and checked his email. What had he missed over the past three weeks? Nothing interesting caught his eye. It was all the usual administration correspondence. There were a few announcements from the school board. Some schedule changes he had known about, and the rest were announcements directed at students. There was no mention of his incident, but he figured most people knew because of his social status anyway.
An email from Eleanor had been sent a few days after he had been incarcerated. It was an invitation to her anniversary party. All staff were invited. The date for the party was tomorrow. He shook his head. Perhaps without the chaos happening in his life, he would go, but now he had to catch up with his own semester lecture schedule. He put his face in his hands as he realized he would have to do homework again for the first time in over a decade.
He checked the time again. 44 minutes until class started. He blinked. That must have been at least five minutes!
The seconds on the time display seemed to tick at an incredibly slow rate. With each tick, he found himself mentally willing it to tick again when he thought it should, but he was always too early.
Footsteps passed behind the closed door of his office, along with a faint murmuring. He stared at the door, trying to convince himself the person must have been talking to someone else on a call, but there was something about that voice. Not the tone or the volume, but the texture. Something in it rang with a similar quality to the other voices he had heard earlier.
He plopped his face into his hands again. Zandith, what did you do to me!?
He forced himself to focus back on his emails. He had to get his mind off of the anomalies. The substitute teacher Eleanor had selected to replace Brandon during his absence had left a summary of what they went over. It was better than he had suspected. While the sub admitted to not understanding most of the content, he was able to learn the concepts with the students using Brandon’s notes that had accumulated on the lecture monitor over the years. He had to skip the demonstrations, of course, and the students’ drone project deadline was pushed back a couple of weeks.
That seemed reasonable to Brandon. The task of explaining and creating an Aetherically-powered analog drone took weeks of preparation. Most students were used to software being involved in mechanical projects. He could still recall the perplexed looks they gave him when he said they will not be allowed to write a single line of code for this project. He had then reminded them that the class was called “Aetheric Mechanics” for a reason, and that to understand it fully, it was best to apply it in as many ways as possible. They would be learning how to design Aetheric circuits and learn all the new equations that went along with them, and then apply that knowledge by completing the various projects throughout the semester.
He was glad to see that most of those who passed his class went on to get a well-paying Aetherics job right out of school. Mostly at AetherTech. It was hard to find a building where that corporation’s presence wasn’t known. They had more subdivisions than he cared to look up, and most of those used to be competing companies. He felt bad for those smaller companies that refused a merger with AetherTech. They really had no good option: lose your freedom, or be relegated to the fringe of the market. A part of him wanted to join the fight and start his own little company. He was proud of his contributions to science, but didn’t like seeing them abused and fought over in marketing battles and lawsuits. Then other parts of him would win the inner argument, saying he wouldn’t be able to manage the business effectively. The skills of a scientist don’t translate to the skills of a businessman. He had a hard time managing his family relationships already. The last thing he needed was something else to manage at the same time.
More footsteps passed outside his office. Brandon listened intently for another voice, but found none.
He was able to relax a bit and focus on preparing for the upcoming lecture, but it didn’t feel the same as previous preparations. Time and time again, he found himself regressing to what had happened earlier with Zandith. Oh, how much he wanted to leap out of his chair and hunt him down. He’d come out of nowhere and assaulted Brandon’s life. Typical psychopath. If only he could find a way to track him down, he would have a chance at justice.
Automatically, he pictured confronting Zandith in a dark alley way, but was then struck with distinct urge to run. It almost overcame him as he sat alone in his office. He shoved the image away and looked out the office window. Bushes swayed gently in the wind. The sun was lower in the sky.
Do I want to go after him or not?
After pulling himself back to his preparations, he found that he only had 10 minutes left. Somehow, that half an hour had felt shorter than the minute that had passed after he sat down. He bit his lip. How long was I thinking about Zandith?
He shook his head and got up from his swivel chair. He didn’t want to be late for his first lecture after jail. The classroom was empty when he entered, and it looked just as he remembered. All the desks arranged in neat rows. The antique wooden surfaces still had the glazed finish that resonated with the University’s visually ancient theme while still having a modern feel. He always thought it was an amusing contrast to teach a highly advanced science in a room that resembled an old forest cabin. Though, he was glad the planners hadn’t put unnecessary barrels or props around the place. Murker wasn’t an amusement park.
Brandon moved his plans to the lecture monitor and continued to make bullet points on what to cover today. A minute later, Jase entered. The tall kid was always early, and usually the first of the students to arrive. He had one of the highest grades in the class so far.
Jase stopped and looked at Brandon, mild surprise on his face. “Welcome back, Professor. Is Evan doing well?”
Brandon glanced at him briefly before returning to his notes. “Hi Jase, Evan’s fine. He’ll be out of the hospital soon.”
“Good to hear.” Jase gave him a smile as he continued to the back row where he normally sat.
Just then, the world seemed to turn around Brandon. He gripped the edge of the lectern to stabilize himself. As soon as the dizziness had come, it subsided, but left behind a noticeable pressure on his forehead. He massaged his forehead and clenched his jaw to keep himself from swearing out loud. Then the whispering returned. This time, it came from Jase.
He tried looking at Jase out of the corner of his eye. His eyes were closed, as was the norm before class started. His mouth definitely wasn’t moving. Brandon listened intently for a few seconds, but he could hardly make out any words, the voice was so quiet. He caught some words specific to Aetheric Mechanics concepts, like formulas involving Aetheric potentials and currents. The substitute did cover some of those formulas while Brandon was away.
Another student entered, one of the few females in this section. Definitely the quietest one. She stared at the floor on her way to the closest desk to the exit. The voice that accompanied her was far more prominent than Jase’s, and it spoke with a ferocity Brandon would never have associated with her.
“… and then she had the nerve to comment on my makeup, as if she was some sort of authority! At least I try to look presentable, and am humble enough to admit that. Hah, Nortaas being humble! She wouldn’t even try. She probably doesn’t know what the word means. Oh look, he’s back. Great. The sub was way better. He at least tried to relate to the class. Imagine if the Professor met Nortaas. It’d be love at first sight, or he’d smack her head off her shoulders. No third option. And if I were there, I’d say…”
The silent tirade continued on with no end in sight, even repeating itself multiple times over the span of a minute. During that time, she looked like any other college student. Subdued, with the look of “I’m just here for the grades, no drama here.” Brandon tried his best to keep his eyes focused on the lectern’s screen while still looking at her through his peripherals. He couldn’t help but feel offended, but he knew he couldn’t call her out for her comments. He would look insane, and as far as he could tell, she looked completely sane. He tried redirecting his attention to Jase’s voice, but he couldn’t make it out over the other student’s rambling.
Then, more students arrived. And more voices.
“… if she had just listened to me earlier, none of this would have ever happened…”
“… Can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. One more class? One more class…”
“… God, Missa is looking so hot today…”
“… creating enough force to move them around. I might see then that…”
The voices piled on top of each other in Brandon’s ears. He pretended to scratch his head, instead partially covering his ear with his palm. It made little difference. He finally looked up from the lectern and scanned the room. Half the seats were filled, which meant almost all the students for this section were present. Each one had their own subtle red mist next to his head. It twisted and twitched as it vibrated each word into mysterious existence. Jase, still with eyes closed, hardly had any disturbance about him.
Something tickled Brandon’s forehead, something distinctly different than the significant pressure in between his eyebrows. He scratched at it reflexively. His finger came back wet.
I’m panicking. The coldly observant thought was hardly noticeable above the cacophony of other voices. He spoke in what he hoped sounded like a calm voice, telling the students he needed to use the restroom before getting started. He found himself speed-walking down the hallway, unsure if he’d actually said anything to the class back there.
He blinked, and he was sitting on the toilet lid with his palms pressed into his eye sockets. The physical isolation cut off all the voices, but they still seemed to echo in his ears. He wanted to convince himself it wasn’t real, that it was all in his head and he was going insane. He preferred that prospect to the possibility he was perceiving something real. He didn’t panic because of the overwhelm, he panicked because it all seemed too real.
He send the class an email using his wristpad, explaining that today’s class was cancelled because he wasn’t feeling well. He checked Eleanor’s schedule and saw she wasn’t preoccupied with anything important.
She sounded concerned when she answered. “Brandon? Don’t you have class right now?”
“Uh… I’m uh, well…” he mumbled. How was he going to explain this in a way that made sense? There was only one option. “I just cancelled today’s class.”
“On your first day back?”
“I think I’m going insane,” he stated plainly, keeping his voice low in case someone else entered the public restroom.
“More insane than normal?” she said in an amused tone.
“I’m hearing voices, Eleanor! I encountered… someone… earlier today, and since then things have been… strange.” He found he had a hard time believing his own words.
“Are you certain you weren’t slipped any substances?”
“No, but it doesn’t feel like it. I don’t feel intoxicated or high. I’m just having… experiences.”
A few seconds passed before she responded. “Right, do you want to get checked out at the psych clinic?”
“Yes, I’m going to drive there myself.”
“In your current state? Are you—”
“Yes, I can manage it. Alright? Bye.” He ended the call before she could convince him otherwise.