Page 29 of Doom

“The Xian Warriors administer the tests themselves?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“No,” the clerk said, her curly brown hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “But supposedly, a couple of them watch a few minutes of the promising candidates’ first interview through a two-way mirror. There’s apparently something about auras that let them know if the candidate is suitable or not,” she added with a shrug.

I nodded, remembering how Doom had said he and his brother had been attracted to me just by looking at my aura, making me wonder what else a person’s aura revealed. But more importantly, I wondered who had put me on that list. Was that proof that Doom still lived? Had he gotten around to it that night in my makeshift hospital when I had mentioned that I would sign up for this program the minute it became available? As excited as I felt about being fast-tracked, I wished I could have done the psychological evaluation for a chance at maybe talking to one of the Warriors to find out what was happening with my man and Stran.

She asked me to wait for a few minutes in the small sitting area at the end of the corridor. I’d barely had a chance to sit when a large set of doors with a huge ‘restricted area’ sign plastered all over it parted open, revealing an excessively skinny young man in dire need of a burger or two... or three. Two imposing security guards stood on each side of the entrance, no doubt to prevent trespassers from entering. Despite his emaciated appearance, as I approached the young man who had waved me in, closer inspection proved him to still have a healthy skin tone, bright alert eyes, and plenty of energy as he briskly led me to a small consultation room a few doors down from the entrance.

“Hello, Victoria. My name is Leonard,” the skinny man said. “I will be administering the treatment to you over the next couple of weeks. As a medical doctor yourself, I normally would have simply given you the doses to self-administer over the course of the treatment. However, as you can guess, our governments and the aliens do not want this serum to be circulated around outside of our supervision.”

“Of course, I understand,” I said.

“Do you have any further questions before we proceed?” Leonard asked while closing the door behind us.

“No,” I replied as nervous butterflies took flight in the pit my stomach.

“Very well, then. Please take a seat,” Leonard said, gesturing at the examination table.

While I complied, he poured some cold water from a jar into a tall glass and then retrieved from a cooling unit a tiny vial no bigger than my pinky finger, which was filled with an icy blue liquid. Leonard poured its contents into the glass and then stirred it with a glass rod. The water barely changed color. There was no visible reaction to the two liquids coming into contact. The butterflies went into a full frenzy while my mouth went dry, and my hands became clammy.

For a second, I asked myself if I had truly thought this through before taking that irreversible step. What if things went wrong? What if I turned into a freak instead? What if it gave me abilities that turned me into a monster? What if…?

Enough!

I’d had an entire week since separating from Doom to think it through. I wouldn’t let nerves make me back out now. The truth was that, beyond my genuine desire to get Doom back, we needed volunteers to win the war. Whatever it took, whatever I could do regardless of the cost to me, I would do my part so that humanity would have a future.

Leonard handed me the glass with a sympathetic smile.

“It isn’t too late to back out,” he said kindly. “Taking a bit more time to think it over does not automatically eliminate you from participating. There is no rush. Well, we do need more psychics as soon as possible, but you have to be mentally ready for it. No one will hold it against you if you want a few more days to decide. After all, everyone else is getting one week of intensive psychological evaluations to make a final decision.”

I smiled, grateful for his understanding and kicking myself for this moment of weakness.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said, shaking my head. I raised my glass as if for a toast. “Bottom’s up!”

He chuckled as I gulped down the whole thing in one go. To my pleasant surprise, the cold water had a nice fruity taste, almost like a dab of blueberry juice had been added to it, soothing my dry throat. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand while handing him the empty glass.

“Good girl,” he said as he took it. “You will only need to remain here for the next five minutes to see how you respond. There shouldn’t be anything. However, there have been a couple of cases where some people felt a bit dizzy.”

“Some people?” I asked, slightly confused. “I thought we were the first humans trying this treatment?”

“You are indeed. But you are actually joining our group,” he added with a teasing smirk. “You are looking at one of the first twelve to have started taking the enzyme three days ago. Welcome to the future, my psychic sister.”

* * *

In the three days that followed, excitement and hope gave way to nervousness and disappointment. I wasn’t showing any signs of a psychic awakening. Leonard tried to encourage me saying that others from the first twelve had only started showing signs yesterday, meaning five days into the treatment. The problem was that one of the other participants had started her treatment yesterday, a twenty-one-year-old named Felicity, and she was already showing positive responses. By the sixth day of her treatment, they had reduced her dosage and doubled mine. While Felicity was already able to establish mental connections with people in a different room than she was in, I was only just starting to be able to sense the psychic mind of someone standing right next to me.

I was progressing at a snail’s pace, which had me constantly fearing that I would be removed from the program. Thankfully, instead of casting me aside, even as more of the participants completed their psychological evaluations and joined in, the AACD seemed to wish to involve me further in the medical management of the camp. I ended up being given more and more responsibilities running schedules, organizing medical requirements for our various outposts, and supervising other medical staffers within the camp.

By the third week, I was giving in to discouragement and despair. More than half of our initial group had been labeled as non-compatible. Although they continued to receive the treatment, they were viewed at this point more as a comparison group, with increased dosage at higher frequency. The only things every member of that group had in common was the fact that they were all over thirty and that they had shown not a sliver of psychic awakening. The younger the participants, the faster and the stronger they responded to the treatment. Just last week, I turned twenty-nine. But right now, I had never felt so old.

Although no one said it out loud, it didn’t seem like I would make it into the Vanguard program. One by one, I watched younger candidates—all females—be moved to a secret location to pursue the more advanced portion of the treatment. Jealousy and envy gnawed at me. Still, I found solace in the fact that, although slow, my telepathic powers were steadily growing, unlike others. Moreover, it started becoming clear that men wouldn’t be qualifying for the more advanced part of the program.

Whatever came of this, someone was watching over me. Grooming me would probably be a more suitable word. In light of all the responsibilities being given to me, I realized that I was being tested for greater things. I wanted to believe it was somehow related to Doom. And if it was just wishful thinking on my part, so be it.

Chapter 10

Doom

The peaceful warmth and comfort cocooning me was torn asunder. I tumbled down an endless tunnel at the end of which a blinding light grew bigger and bigger until it swallowed me whole. A prison of flesh closed in around my consciousness, hard and unyielding… suffocating. My soul clawed at this unnatural vessel seeking to contain me, but there was no way out. It was mine, and yet it felt sickeningly foreign.

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