Pt. 088 — Day 10 Morning

Lizzy woke to a flickering light.

For several sleepy seconds she tried to account for it without opening her eyes. Then a bright light swept across the room, and she pushed herself up on one elbow.

The wardrobe had disappeared behind a pair of enormous open doors. Beyond them stretched the intake hall, dressed in white flowers and lengths of pale silk that looped between the columns. Morning light from the bedroom window passed through one of the flower arrangements.

“Ooh,” Lizzy whispered. “This is a nice one.”

Cassie and Fiona stood in the doorway together. Fiona wore a dark green formal dress, her red hair swept up with a few loose curls framing her face. Cassie had both arms wound around one of hers and was laughing at something Fiona had said. Her dark hair shone beneath little gold ornaments. They leaned into each other as they walked, slowing whenever one turned to speak, apparently unconcerned with the crowd waiting for them.

Lizzy glanced toward Mara. She was asleep with one hand beneath her cheek.

The view beyond the doors moved. Lizzy's stomach gave a small, unnecessary lurch as the illusion carried her attention down the aisle without moving her body at all. Van and Evelyn stood at the front of the hall holding hands. Evelyn's hair fell loose over her shoulders, and Van kept looking at her instead of at Verena, who stood between them with the air of ceremony.

The guests rose.

There were horns among the hats, wings folded against the backs of chairs, a woman whose hair drifted around her face like smoke. Martin towered over the rear rows. The stuffed dragon pressed a folded wing to his snout while enormous felt tears slid down his cheeks.

Lizzy put her hand over her mouth.

Above the guests, blue light gathered into a familiar floating head.

Producer X surveyed the ceremony with a deepening frown. Behind Verena, a wheel began to spin. Its colored sections flashed past too quickly to read.

The flowers slid sideways.

Lizzy gripped the sheet. The aisle runner followed them, drawing itself out from beneath the guests' feet. Chairs, silk, columns, even the tall windows streamed away in one continuous sweep, as though someone had caught the corner of the hall and pulled.

Green gaming tables rose in their place. Lights chased one another around a bank of slot machines. Evelyn now wore bunny ears. So did Van. Fiona looked down at the white cuffs on her wrists while Cassie adjusted a bow tie.

Martin's ears brushed the ceiling.

Then coins began pouring from above. They fell between the tables in bright, thick curtains, swallowing the guests, the wheel, the enormous blue face—

Lizzy made a startled squeak.

Mara jerked awake. The casino vanished, leaving a wardrobe, two beds, and Martin sitting innocently against Lizzy's pillow.

“What?” Mara pushed her hair out of her eyes. “What's happened?”

Lizzy took a breath, then another. Her hand was still clenched in the sheet.

“You were dreaming.”

Mara's gaze traveled around the bedroom before returning to her. “Oh dear.”

“It started rather nicely.”

“How reassuring.” Mara sat up, drawing the covers with her. “Do I want to know?”

Lizzy looked at Martin. After a moment she reached behind him and straightened one of his wings.

“I think we should get dressed before I try explaining.”

*********************

Cassie reached across the bed before she was properly awake. All she found was a cold sheet.

She opened her eyes and found Fiona sitting on the edge of the mattress with her back to her, bent over one boot. The other was already on. Yesterday's hoodie was creased across her shoulders, and the hair she had slept on had flattened untidily at the back.

“Fiona?”

Fiona pulled the laces tight.

Cassie sat up and pushed the covers aside. By the time she reached the foot of the bed, Fiona was standing.

“Can we—”

“You need to get ready for the challenge.”

“I will. Just slow down a second.” Cassie stayed far enough away that Fiona had room to turn. “We don't have to fix everything before breakfast. But we can't keep doing this thing where you leave before I finish a sentence.”

Fiona picked up the room key.

“I heard you last night,” Cassie continued. “I'm not asking you to change your mind about me. I'm asking you to talk to me about why you're hurting yourself trying to get away.”

Fiona's fingers closed around the key. She crossed to the door and went out.

Cassie stood at the end of the bed until the latch clicked.

She had been prepared for an argument. Several, actually. Her head was full of answers to things Fiona hadn't said, and without anyone there to say them she couldn't seem to stop.

She took her clothes into the bathroom.

The shower helped with being awake. It did very little anything else. Cassie washed her hair, turned the water cooler, and spent too long thinking about Fiona lying rigidly on the other side of the mattress. She had stayed last night because Cassie had made leaving harder than staying. That was something. It had not felt like much while they lay there pretending to sleep.

By the time Cassie dressed, the hem of her shirt had begun its familiar retreat. She pulled it down once, then left it and picked up her toothbrush.

Fiona hadn't even changed. At some point she would have to. She would have to sleep properly, and eat, and let somebody treat her with affection without acting as though it was an accusation. Cassie wanted to help her get there. She still wanted that even though the memory still bore the hot sting of shame.

Toothpaste foamed against her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and looked at herself in the mirror.

Today was the challenge day.

Whatever Verena had prepared, Cassie would be no help to anyone if she went into it with her head filled with Fiona’s issues. She brushed more deliberately, working around the back teeth. Survive the challenge first. Get through whatever was coming. If there was a way to keep Fiona out of trouble too, she would find it when she knew what the trouble was.

She rinsed her mouth, washed the sink, and went to breakfast.

*****************

The windows in the master suite held the pale reflection of a room she knew. For a little while Evelyn remained beneath the covers, listening to the quiet and allowing herself the familiar comfort of her own bedroom.

Then Van shifted on the far side of the bed.

He lay on his stomach with one arm beneath his pillow. The sheet had slipped to his waist. His hair was thoroughly disordered, and his breathing remained deep and even after he settled again.

Evelyn let her head rest back against the pillow.

There had been mornings in her private rooms when she had lain listening to the ventilation and the distant machinery of the building, trying to persuade herself that four hours was adequate sleep. She had never particularly liked the first few minutes of those days. This was a considerable improvement.

Across the bed, Van made a low, indistinct sound and pulled the pillow closer.

She smiled.

He had been very pleased with himself last night. With the karaoke, with making her laugh, with his increasingly competent attempts at massage. She had enjoyed watching him discover that he could offer something she wanted. There had been no calculation beneath it, no anxious attention to Oracle's approval or to what a favorable impression on the head of Cross Dynamics might purchase.

Most men who approached her had a remarkably clear idea of whom they were approaching. A heroine. A wealthy woman. A connection.

Van had wanted to be foolish with her. To do something joyous and loud.

Evelyn turned onto her back.

That was charming. So was he, when he stopped trying to apologize his way out of being noticed. It did not provide a foundation for the sort of relationship the Hotel had arranged for them. She had spent one pleasant evening with an attractive young man after a very long interval without anyone to share a quiet morning with. Loneliness and frustration could make a great deal of one pleasant evening.

Today required better judgment than that.

There were eight women awaiting an unknown challenge. Katherine's search had ended at midnight. Another vote was approaching. Evelyn could not afford to spend breakfast wondering what Van had meant when he thanked her in the dark.

She rose quietly and collected her clothes.

By the time she returned from the bathroom, she had pinned her hair, fastened the cuffs of a pale blouse, and checked the time twice. Van had turned onto his side. He was still asleep.

“Van.”

He moved his head against the pillow.

“Good morning. We should begin getting ready.”

His eyes opened slowly. Then he took in her clothes and sat up too quickly.

“What time is it?”

“We have ample time. I am an early riser.”

“So am I. Usually.” He rubbed his face and looked toward the windows. “I slept really well.”

“I noticed.”

“I mean, better than I have all week.” His hand dropped. He looked across at her, smiling with a sleepy openness that made her wish she hadn't finished dressing quite so efficiently.

“I slept very well too,” she admitted.

His smile widened.

She allowed herself to return it before reaching for her watch. “Unfortunately, the day does require our attendance.”

“Right. Challenge day.” He pushed the sheet back. “I'll be quick.”

She went through to the lounge while he collected his clothes. The false victory maps still glowed above her workstation. Evelyn passed them and checked the contents of her small bag instead.

When Van joined her, his hair was damp and his shirt had been straightened with care.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

He opened the suite door, then paused beside it. His elbow moved slightly away from his side.

Evelyn felt the hopeful hesitation before he spoke. She could have settled it with a touch. Her hand had already shifted against the strap of her bag when he glanced at her.

“Have you got everything?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He lowered his arm. “Everything.”

She stepped into the corridor beside him.

****************

They walked together without much conversation, their pace matched easily.

Lizzy waved as soon as they entered the dining room.

Claire turned in her chair. “Good morning. I hope you're both feeling—”

Lizzy clapped a hand over the red head's mouth. The remaining syllables came out against her palm.

Mara laughed and moved her cup away from the disturbance. “Claire has prepared a joke about foot massages. We voted against it.”

“Puns are for the brave!” Claire protested when Lizzy released her.

“Puns are not permitted before breakfast,” Mara explained to Evelyn.

“I see that everything is still the same in my absence.” Evelyn set her bag beside an empty chair. Naomi, Katherine, and Fiona had yet to arrive. Neither had Cassie. “Much as I regret disappointing the gossip mill, the foot massage was precisely what the notification described. We had a long day. There will be no further discussion.”

Claire's prepared smile drooped. “I hadn't even got to any wordplay.”

“An excellent place to stop.”

Van sat down beside Evelyn, looking rather pleased to have been spared.

Claire reached for the toast. “I'll make you all listen to my puns eventually.”

“Good luck,” he said.

Lizzy giggled and passed Evelyn the coffee.

Cassie came in while Van was serving himself eggs. She paused inside the doors and scanned the table.

“Has anyone seen Fiona?”

Mara shook her head. “Not this morning.”

“She left before me.” Cassie pulled out a chair, looked at the doorway again, and sat.

“Are you all right?” Mara asked quietly.

“I will be.” Cassie reached for a plate. “I'm worried about her.”

“You don't need to be.”

Fiona stood at the entrance. Cassie's hand stopped above the plate.

“I'm ready for the challenge,” Fiona said, coming toward the table. “That's what we need to worry about. Whatever Verena's going to throw at us, I'd rather we spent the morning getting ready for it.”

Mara glanced toward Evelyn, then moved the serving dish within Fiona's reach. “There's plenty left.”

“Thanks.”

Cassie let her have the dish first. Fiona took it without meeting her eyes.

The doors opened again before either had finished filling a plate. Katherine entered with Naomi a step behind her. She stopped at the end of the table.

“I failed to retrieve the dossier. We won't have advance intelligence for the challenge.”

Van lowered his fork.

“It was taped to the back of the mirror in our room,” Katherine continued. “I searched the room when we arrived. I did not repeat the search after receiving the objective. Every theory I developed afterward took me farther from a place I should have checked first. I'm sorry.”

She drew out her chair.

“Katherine,” Evelyn said, “you are having breakfast with us. You are not reporting a failed mission to a superior officer. You needn't stand there accepting responsibility on our behalf.”

“I understand the distinction.” Katherine sat. “It was still my task, and completing it would have helped everyone here. I intend to do better.”

Naomi took the chair beside her and passed her a plate.

“Did Verena tell you what she'll do?” Mara asked.

“The punishment begins at the next vote and lasts through the following challenge. She'll explain the terms when she applies it.”

“But not what it—”

“No.” Katherine unfolded her napkin. “We could spend the next half hour inventing possibilities. None of them would give us anything we could use today. I'd prefer to eat.”

Mara studied her, then nodded. “All right.”

Katherine accepted the coffee Naomi poured for her. Her hand remained around the cup while the others returned to breakfast.

******************

Verena arrived before Evelyn had finished her first cup.

“Good morning, everyone. I trust you have rested. You have made considerable progress during your first cycle, and today you will have an opportunity to put that progress to use.”

A projection opened above the table.

EVELYN CROSS — 15 VP — 4,125 BP

CLAIRE MERCER — 10 VP — 3,200 BP

ELIZA QUINN — 13 VP — 3,025 BP

NAOMI HALE — 14 VP — 900 BP

KATHERINE WREN — 7 VP — 100 BP

MARA ELLISON — 10 VP — 4,225 BP

FIONA KAVANAGH — 1 VP — 1,500 BP

CASSIE LIN — 11 VP — 1,800 BP

A slim phone appeared beside Evelyn's cup.

“Your ten-point privilege, Ms. Cross. You will find the available functions familiar.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn said, leaving it where it lay.

“And since you have also become our first contestant to reach fifteen Victory Points, we have a new milestone to discuss.”

Cassie leaned back to read around the projection. “You could have led with that.”

“Each of you was offered one of three transformations during your intake ceremony. That number has a greater significance than you imagined. More than just a collection of options, each contestant has three transformation paths.” Quiet murmurs swept through the room, but the hostess moved on without giving time for them to react.

“These paths are designed to push you beyond what you ever thought you were capable of.” Verena said. “At fifteen VP, the first becomes available for inspection. Ms. Cross, your first revealed path is Telepathy.”

The scores folded away. Three branching lines took their place, two unmarked, the third bearing Evelyn's name and the newly revealed designation.

Evelyn put down her cup. “Inspection of what, precisely?”

“The transformations belonging to that path, including information previously unavailable to you.”

The glowing lines of a system screen appeared above the table.

Partner in Crime (Path Hidden)

Evelyn's telepathy forms a permanent partial link to the Master, allowing communication at nearly any range without intrusive mind reading; this link cannot be interrupted or severed.

(Hidden Effect: Lying to the Master triggers sudden intense nausea.)

Evelyn remembered the title immediately. Beneath it stood the same promise she had read at intake: a permanent partial link to the Master, communication at nearly any range, no intrusive mind reading. A link that could never be interrupted or severed.

Her refusal had been easy.

Verena touched the air beneath the card and new text burned into life.

Partner in Crime - **Telepathy Path**

Evelyn's telepathy forms a permanent partial link to the Master, allowing communication at nearly any range without intrusive mind reading; this link cannot be interrupted or severed. **Lying to the Master triggers sudden intense nausea.**

Katherine set her cup down without drinking.

For several seconds Evelyn read the sentence again. “That was always there?,” she said.

“Yes, this is the complete card.”

“And we weren't allowed to read it.” Claire had pushed her plate away. One loose strand of hair drifted beside her cheek. “What else are you hiding?”

“Much, Ms. Mercer. Ms. Cross’ milestone access now reveals the additional text of transformations within the Telepathy path.”

Cassie gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “All this time we've been trying to work out what's happening to our clothes and our powers, and you've had instructions.”

“Fundamental alterations to a human soul have consequences, Miss Lin. The cards describe the resulting changes.”

“Then let us read them,” Naomi said. “We have to live with them. I've been learning how to control mine by experimenting on people.”

“Additional information becomes available when you reach the relevant milestone.”

Mara stared at the card. “Do you know what mine says?”

Verena regarded her with a patience Evelyn found increasingly difficult to tolerate. “The staff have access to the information necessary to perform their duties.”

Mara's hand moved to the edge of the table. Beside her, Lizzy had stopped even pretending to eat.

Evelyn leaned forward. “Show me Ice Queen.”

“That card is not on your revealed path.”

She had expected an evasion. The simple refusal was more immediately infuriating.

“Then reveal the path it is on.”

“Further milestones will do so.”

Evelyn's fingers rested against the stem of her water glass. Last night's sensations returned with unwelcome clarity: the warmth in her hands, the difficulty following a simple conversation, her reluctance to tell Van to stop. She had spent the morning making sensible explanations for herself.

Across the table, Cassie was still speaking.

“You keep calling them consequences. That line tells her she'll get sick if she lies to him. How does something that specific just happen?”

“The changes that make your development possible cannot be separated neatly into the portions you find convenient and the portions you would prefer to discard,” Verena replied. “Some necessities are unpleasant.”

“You haven't answered her question,” Evelyn said.

“I have explained what this milestone provides.”

Fiona leaned forward over her untouched plate. “So we do what you want until we earn the right to know what you've already done.”

“You earn access through progress.”

Van's chair scraped the floor. “Come on. Isn’t this too much?”

Verena turned toward him.

He remained seated, both hands flat beside his plate. “Tell them what's in their transformations.”

“The conditions apply to everyone, Master Van.”

“They're trying to make decisions. About their powers, about each other.” He looked at the additional line beneath Partner in Crime. “About me. And you're making them come through me to find out whether you've changed how any of that works.”

“There are multiple avenues for earning Victory Points.”

“I've read the notifications.” His voice rose. He took a breath and continued before she could answer. “You pay them for touching me. Now you're telling them that if they haven't earned enough, they don't get to know what's happening inside their own heads. I don't want someone sitting beside me wondering what she has to do with me before you'll explain her own body to her.”

Evelyn kept her eyes on Verena.

The Headmistress looked almost pleased. “Then consider what you intend to do with that anger.”

Van stared at her.

“You have begun taking your position seriously,” she continued. “I encourage you to find a means of turning your objection into action. An effective one, if you can.”

“You could just tell them.”

“I could provide a great many things outside the conditions under which this season operates. I will not be doing so this morning.”

The card disappeared, faint lines of brilliant smoke wafting away.

Van's hands curled against the table. Evelyn turned toward him, close enough to speak without addressing everyone.

“Not right now, Van,” she said quietly.

He looked at her. After a moment he drew his hands back and sat upright.

Verena surveyed the abandoned plates. “Challenge day requires a certain amount of ceremony. We shall begin with appropriate dress.”

Cassie looked down at herself. “We haven't finished—”

Verena raised one hand.

Evelyn's feet left the floor. Her chair slid away beneath her. Silver light ran up her arms, pressed briefly against her skin, and broke into bright threads. She reached instinctively for the table and found her hand enclosed in a long glove.

Around her, the others were being lifted too. Van swore. Something gold flashed across Claire's chest. The magic tightened once, then released them onto their feet.

Evelyn's boots met the carpet. Her costume settled over her shoulders, white and silver catching the dining room light. She drew one gloved hand down the fitted sleeve.

Across the table, Fiona tested her footing in emerald and black. Cassie twisted to examine the orange-red detailing along her side. Naomi pulled at the edge of a glove, her attention fixed on the amount of skin her uniform covered.

Van stood beside Evelyn in a dark fitted uniform with reinforced panels at the shoulders and knees. He bent one elbow, then the other.

“I don't have a superhero costume.”

“You do now,” Verena said. “The material is damage resistant and permits a considerable range of movement. Both qualities will serve you during the challenge.”

Van stopped testing the glove. Across the table, Fiona had turned toward him.

Light opened beneath the table.

Evelyn had time to catch one final glimpse of the new phone beside her cup before the dining room disappeared.

*******************************

They arrived in the intake hall on their feet.

Lizzy turned toward the doors. For a second she looked past them into the empty space above the rear of the hall.

“Lizzy?” Mara asked.

“I'm fine.” She faced forward again. “Just a very strange morning.”

Verena had already taken her position behind a podium. Gold lines traveled across the floor, curving into eight circles arranged around a ninth.

“Each contestant will occupy an outer circle. Master Van, the center, please.”

Evelyn checked the distances while they moved. From her place she could see every other contestant. Van stood a few paces away inside the central ring, testing the flex of one glove.

“Before we begin,” Verena said, “you should know that one day has passed in your home reality since your departure.”

Claire lifted her head.

“One day?” Mara repeated.

“The difference in elapsed time has been managed. The Producers have also ensured that your absence has not caused alarm. Your families, colleagues, and associates have not spent that day believing you missing, injured, or dead.”

Lizzy pressed her lips together. Beside her, Naomi let out a breath that Evelyn could hear across the gap.

“Today,” Verena continued, “you will return home briefly.”

Van stopped moving his hand.

Evelyn looked toward the doors. She knew perfectly well they led into the Hotel. Nevertheless, for an instant she pictured the corridor outside her real office, the people who would be working there now, the reports waiting for her attention.

“How briefly?” Katherine asked.

“For the duration of your assignments. Reality filters will remain in place throughout. You will be unable to disclose the Hotel or your experiences here to anyone outside the cast.”

Claire's hand had gone toward a pocket her costume did not have.

“You may speak,” Verena explained. “However, any protected disclosure will be received as something mundane and appropriate to the listener's expectations. Attempts to explain your situation will not communicate the information you intend.”

Katherine folded her arms. “You've arranged for us to be overlooked.”

“For your presence to remain consistent with the reality to which you are returning.”

Fiona shifted her weight. “What's the assignment?”

“Your cities are under attack. A large, organized deployment of Alters is in progress. You will return to do what your training has prepared you to do: save lives and reduce damage.”

Cassie looked across the ring toward Fiona. Fiona was watching Verena.

Evelyn began assembling questions. Deployment strength. Locations. Available defenders. Whether the attacks shared an objective. Before she could speak, the central circle filled with light.

Van looked down.

Color climbed around him in angular planes. His reflection appeared inside one, then another, until Evelyn could no longer pick out his body among the overlapping images. The planes turned through one another, opening into depths that should not have fit inside the hall.

Eight figures stepped outward.

Evelyn moved back as one resolved beside her. Van caught his balance and looked down at his hands.

The central circle was empty.

Across the hall, another Van turned toward Cassie. A third was staring at the others with the same astonishment as the man standing at Evelyn's shoulder.

“Oh, I don't like that,” he said.

Several of his counterparts spoke at nearly the same time. One stopped halfway through and looked toward the sound.

“Master Van will accompany each contestant,” Verena announced. “His perception has been divided. Each instance experiences only what occurs in his own vicinity. When the challenge concludes, he will be recombined with the memories of all eight experiences.”

Evelyn stepped to the edge of her circle.

“You intend to send him into an active Alter attack.”

“Yes.”

“You know what happened when we approached those memories in a controlled setting. This is a battlefield. There will be noise, casualties, conditions we cannot predict. Whatever training he has managed this week does not address that.”

Van turned toward her, but she kept her attention on Verena.

“An unprotected exposure would indeed be reckless,” the Headmistress replied. “An additional reality filter will prevent a traumatic reaction during the assignment. The relevant safeguard is already in place.”

“You can do that?” Van asked.

Verena inclined her head. “Yes, when needed.”

He rubbed his thumb over the seam of his glove. Evelyn had several things she wished to say about those three words. She needed answers they could use first.

“How is the challenge scored?”

A projection formed above the podium.

MAXIMUM AWARD: 10 VP

MASTER PROTECTION: 3 VP

ALTER DEFEATED: 1 VP EACH

“Keeping your accompanying Master safe is worth three Victory Points,” Verena said. “Each defeated Alter earns one further point, up to the overall challenge maximum.”

“And civilians?” Claire asked.

“The civilians are outside of our scoring system currently. Saving them does not carry an additional award.”

Fiona's head came up. “Of course it doesn't.”

“You have each received extensive preparation for the responsibilities of an Empowered defender,” Verena continued. “Escorting your Master during active conflict will add a new layer of difficulty. If he is ever more than ten meters from you, he will be considered lost and your participation in the challenge will end immediately.”

Evelyn examined the figures again. Van stood close enough that she could hear the slow breath he took before looking toward the podium.

“Finally,” Verena said, “this is a Harem Hotel challenge. Tradition requires an element of intimate excitement.”

Cassie's arms fell to her sides. “There it is.”

“The danger in your home reality is genuine. Your participation will have genuine consequences for the people living there. Danger is exciting. Permanently injuring this cast so early in its preparation to confront the Architect would be considerably less so.”

Naomi's gloved fingers closed slowly.

“The Alters will therefore be unable to inflict physical injury upon you. A successful strike will instead produce an accumulating arousal effect. Repeated hits will increase the resulting impairment.”

Van stared at her.

“The effect will not subside on its own during the challenge,” Verena continued. “It remains active until today’s events have concluded completely. Should a contestant become unable to continue, she will be considered knocked out and retain whatever score she has earned.”

“You're making it harder for us to do the rescue work,” Claire said. Her voice had lost every trace of the girl who had been waiting to tell a breakfast joke. “There are people under attack.”

“Then I recommend avoiding unnecessary blows.”

Cassie took a step toward the boundary of her circle. “Do they get a filter? The people we're going back to? Or are we the only ones whose bodies matter to your television show?”

Fiona looked toward her at last.

Verena rested both hands on the podium. “They are the people you are being sent to protect, Miss Lin.”

Cassie remained at the edge of the circle. Her Van said something quietly beside her, and she turned enough to hear him.

Evelyn looked at the man standing in her own circle. He was watching the other pairs, his brow drawn together.

“Van.”

He faced her immediately.

“When we arrive, stay close until we understand the situation.”

“All right.” He glanced toward the podium. “And after that?”

There were things she could ask of him. Routes he could help keep clear, frightened people who would need someone beside them, decisions that would have to be made before she could make them for him.

“We shall see what needs doing.”

He nodded and moved to her side, leaving her room to turn.

Evelyn faced the podium with him.