Oppression (7 page)

Aside from the mind-blowing stunts that were passing before my unbelieving eyes, there was nothing elaborate about the place—just the typical features of any school building. White linoleum floors colored with gray flecks and scuff marks reflected the false fluorescent light. Doors with windows lined the single hall that seemed to continue around the corner of each end in a square.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, someone stepped out in front of us, nearly causing me to trip over my own feet.

“Wow,” William said, catching me by the arm. “What’s with the surprise attack, Professor?”

“Sorry,” the old man said with a high, amused voice. “The girl must come with me.”

Before I knew it, the professor had me by the wrist, pulling me in the opposite direction of the crowd and away from William. I didn’t know what to do. Who was this man, and where was he taking me?

“William?” I called out at him with concern.

“Wait, Iosif,” he yelled with a laugh. The professor stopped, giving William the chance to catch up. “We have Origins and History right now. Can’t you wait to talk to her?”

“No. Dear, I really must speak with you now. Is that all right?”

To my surprise, he was addressing me not William.

“Um, I guess so,” I said full of uncertainty. My eyes looked to William for an escape, but he was simply amused by the old man’s insistence.

“Fine, take her,” William said with a mischievous look in his eyes, “but you owe me one.”

My jaw dropped. He was supposed to be getting me out of this, not bargaining a deal.

“Okay, all right,” Iosif agreed eagerly. “A free hall pass, but that’s it.”

With a nod, we were off again, and William simply waved and smiled, finding amusement in my expression.

“William!” I shrieked. What was he doing, trading me for a hall pass?

“You’ll be fine,” he yelled back. “The old man won’t bite. Not unless you struggle.”

William’s grin never faded, and I was sure it lasted long after I lost him in the crowd. I promised myself I would get him back for enjoying the sight of me getting dragged off by such a loon, but what could he have done really? Professor Iosif, however odd, clearly had authority over him. Still, as far as I was concerned, William owed
me
one.

7.

THE PROFESSOR WAS extremely old. His white hair had thinned on top, and the rest of it stood out frizzled and wild from the sides of his head like a bald Albert Einstein. He had full circle wire rimmed glasses and a crooked pointy nose to hold them up. His body was hunched over as we trudged down the still busy hallway, making him slightly shorter than me. As we reached his office, he closed the door and smiled widely, unafraid to bare his strangely jumbled mess of teeth. Although he seemed about as crazy as he looked, his overall personality was kind and welcoming.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally come. I was starting to worry.” He seemed to find his own words funny and chuckled to himself.

“Come to The Institute?” I asked, not knowing he’d been expecting me.

“Well, yes.”

“I didn’t even know this place existed until this morning,” I answered honestly.

“That’s understandable,” he said as he fumbled around looking for something. His office was dark. What little light did manage to find its way in seeped through spaces between the high stacks of books piled up against the window. There was a kitchenette and some cupboards to the right and two shelves on the left that housed a collection of items so old one might expect to find them in a museum. I imagined the antiques were actually things he had owned over the past 400 years or so he’d lived. His desk was completely covered in newspapers, open mail and ungraded papers, and I wondered from the look of the place if he considered this a second residence.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, finally finding what he was searching for.

Not wanting to be rude, I accepted and let my eyes wander some more as he prepared it.

“Why aren’t you asking questions?” He set the tea in front of me and sat behind his desk. “I know you have many.”

“Oh,” I answered. I did have questions, lots of questions. I just wasn’t used to someone being willing to answer them.

“Let’s start with your ability,” he pushed past my lack of response. His eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You are familiar with the process.”

I returned his calculating stare with an unnerving look.

“Well, yes and no. I know my blood can heal, but how does it work exactly?” I realized he might know more than I thought. “Can I heal
anybody
?”

“Yes, essentially, and anybody can heal you. You’re our cure as much as we are yours. However, there are some specifics you don’t seem to be aware of. Only the blood from your right side heals.”

“My left side doesn’t heal?” I’d always been too scared to experiment with it. Aside from the one time with Anna, William had been the only other person I’d healed.

“Your left side contains a very unique poison. A small amount may only paralyze a victim, but in larger doses, it is lethal.”

Poison? The thought made my insides writhe with guilt, and I felt sick. What if Kara’s blade had hit me in the left leg? I would have poisoned William.

“I had no idea,” I said in disbelief. I thought briefly of the day Anna and I had exchanged blood, and how lucky we had been that she had grabbed my healing hand and not the poisonous one. “I’m assuming the poison has the same effect on . . . humans?” It felt strange to think of Anna as human, as if I was setting myself apart from her. Were we really that different?

His face became uncomfortable. “We aren’t allowed to use abilities on humans, Elyse, but yes. Your blood would heal them or hurt them all the same.”

It took me a while to register the first part of what he had said. “Why wouldn’t I be allowed to heal a human?” I asked, worried about the fact that I already had.

“It’s the law. A very rigid law.”

I decided to keep that secret to myself, just in case.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t raised in a community. My parents sort of kept all of this from me. They didn’t tell me there were others.”

“They did what they had to, for the good of our world, for your own good.”

“What does that mean?” I asked frustrated. “William said something about everyone waiting for the last healer. How did he know me? How do any of you know me?”

“He’s eager,” Iosif answered with a secret smile, “and he’s right. We have been waiting for you, and it’s very important that you don’t let anyone know who you are. No one else has figured it out yet.”

I laughed. “Okay, that will be pretty easy since
I
don’t even know who I am.”

“Well it’s time you know. I brought you here for that very reason,” he said, settling into a more serious posture, “to tell you the truth about us and about yourself. Over the centuries, our kind has been oppressed. The powers that be have grown accustomed to the amount of control they keep.” He spoke with intense eyes and cautious ears. “Before you were born, my wife had a vision of one who would bring an end to it, whose destiny was so deeply intertwined in the fate of the future, that she must be protected. That night, we sought out the parents who would bring this unborn child into the world and told them that they must live apart from the communities and keep their child in the dark about who she truly was. That child is you, and now the time has come.”

“I don’t understand. The time has come for what?”

“For you to fulfill the prophecy, lead the war, save us from the enemy,” he said, his arms gesturing with enthusiasm.

A burst of laughter came rolling out of me. It was the only reaction I could process. “You can’t be serious.”

Even through my laughter, his expression didn’t falter. “Indeed I am.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I said frankly, “but that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

There was not a million to one chance that I was this prophecy savior. I knew that for sure. There was no way someone as young and emotionally unstable as myself could make such an impact.

“You do not have to accept the prophecy for it to be true.”

“You can’t possibly believe that I’m going to change your world.”

“It is inevitable.”

“Maybe for someone else,” I disagreed. “I don’t know anything about . . . anything. I don’t know your world. You have the wrong girl, Professor.”

“I assure you, no.”

I stared into his crazy blue eyes that seemed to have faded with age. They were honest, believing, sincere, and that scared me. “I wouldn’t even know what to do. Besides, I’ve got nothing against . . . whoever it is you feel is your enemy.”

“The Council,” he answered, “and you will.”

How could I take this crazy looking man so seriously? He had obviously lost his sense of reality years ago. “Look, I’ve got to get to class,” I said, looking for a way out. I stood and headed for the door without being properly excused. “It was really . . . nice talking to you though.” What else could I say?

“Remember what I told you,” he continued, talking to me through his open door as I slunk away. “Your destiny will find you. Oh, and Origins is in room 22A.”

I didn’t look back as I charged down the empty hall, and when I found the right door, I let my shoulders relax a little, trying to forget the conversation I’d just endured.

I walked into the classroom over thirty minutes late, right in the middle of a lecture.

“. . . we have to be responsible. The choices we make affect more than just ourselves.” Despite my tardiness, the professor gave me a look of pleasant surprise. The strange attention made me squirm, and I avoided looking directly at him out of embarrassment. Luckily William was sitting toward the back next to an empty seat, and I dove into it, desperate to avoid curious eyes.

Dr. Nickel
was written on the blackboard in elegant cursive. He was a tall, handsome man with clean-cut gray hair and a strong build for his age. His charismatic smile reached the back of the room, clearly expressing his love for teaching, and I recognized him immediately. I knew I’d seen him before, but couldn’t think where.

“We have a new student,” the professor announced, causing the entire class to zero in on me.

I raised my hand, acknowledging the group, but couldn’t find my words.

“I know we’re all familiar with our ancestry, but I would like to run through a quick overview for Elyse, just to bring her up to speed with the class.” Apparently he knew me as well.

The students redirected their attention to Dr. Nickel, and I slumped lower in my chair.

“What is your first impression of the word Myth? Anybody? The first word that comes to mind?”

“Legend.”

“Imaginary.”

“A story.”

“Yes, a story,” Dr. Nickel said through grinning lips. “The Greek word from which we derive the word mythology actually means ‘story-telling,’ but in truth, mythology is often described as being thought to be true by a particular culture. In the case of Greek mythology, it was true, very true, to the humans who were aware of the existence of our ancestors. The Greek mythology of today arose from a particular point in time when our ancestors were less concerned about the consequences of integrating with human society. Most of what was known to be true at the time has been embellished beyond fact, but there are still parts of it that mark significant events in our history. As we all know, the Trojan War, which has now become more of an interesting fable, was the reason for our decision to become more reclusive. The battle was between us and the humans, not just humans themselves. So, if our people were fully integrated with human society, and for many years lived in peace, what changed? In essence, what caused the war that divided us? If we were to integrate now, what sort of problems would we face? Would they be the same?”

“Human hostility,” a redheaded boy yelled, sounding fairly hostile himself.

“Not necessarily,” said the girl next to him.

Other voices began to pipe up throughout the room.

“Well, based on the history of our people, human hostility would most definitely be a problem.”

“That was ages ago. Times have changed.”

“History repeats itself. It would be no different.”

Dr. Nickel raised a hand, quieting the class. “Well, let’s analyze why we experienced human hostility during that time,” he said, trying to focus the discussion.

“We were arrogant,” another girl answered. “We tried to pass ourselves off as gods.”

“Right,” someone else responded. “So if we didn’t present ourselves in such a way, if we didn’t act superior, maybe human reaction would be different.”

“Are you kidding?” a surly girl with a high ponytail jumped in. “Hundreds of Descendants were killed back then. People didn’t want us around. They felt threatened. Things are fine the way they are.”

“Fine by what standards?” William suddenly spoke up. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how The Council is. You talk about human hostility? What about our own hostility toward humans?”

“There are arguments for both sides,” Dr. Nickel interrupted, “and consequences.”

I sat quietly for the next hour, listening and learning as Dr. Nickel worked through pros and cons for exposing the Descendant race to humans. Pros: a better world, freedom, abilities in public, lives would change, less crime, human interaction, the list went on. Cons: human hostility, secret governmental experiments, persecution, another war with the humans, The Council fighting for power. Again, the list went on.

When Dr. Nickel dismissed the class, I expected William to head out with the rest of the students, who were now making use of their abilities, but he grabbed my hand and headed toward the professor.

“Hey, Dad,” William said, and then it hit me. I’d seen him in the photograph next to my parents.

“Hello, Elyse,” Dr. Nickel greeted me.

“Hi,” I answered, getting used to people already knowing me by name.

“Are you adjusting all right?”

I laughed. “I was until some crazy guy tried to tell me I had to save the world.”

“I knew he would tell you,” William said, slightly irritated. “Did he say anything else?”

“Anything else? What, a crazy prophecy isn’t enough for you?”

William threw a secret look to his father. “It’s not crazy,” William answered.

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” Dr. Nickel insisted, glancing at the open classroom door. “Come with me.”

I followed the two of them to a well-lit and neatly organized office. William closed the door behind us and took the seat against the wall as I lingered, unsure of what to expect.

“Elyse, why don’t you sit down?” Dr. Nickel suggested. “I know this might be a bit hard to process.”

I sat without a word. It wasn’t as easy to brush off this man’s words or take them for nonsense. He was put together, professional, and he had known my parents.