The forgotten summer
Chapter 52: The Forgotten Summer
Fear was unfamiliar territory for Dr. Amara Queen.
Not because she was fearless.
Because most things made sense.
Problems had solutions.
Diseases had treatments.
Questions had answers.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Fear happened when something didn't make sense.
And Director Hale had just said something that made absolutely no sense.
The worst kind of sense.
The kind that turned out to be true.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The security room remained silent.
Victoria stood frozen near the doorway.
Lorenzo looked ready to destroy a telecommunications network.
The engineers looked confused.
The captains looked concerned.
Reasonably concerned.
Very reasonably concerned.
Amara held the phone tighter.
Dangerously tighter.
"What did I agree to?"
Silence.
Director Hale sighed.
Slowly.
Like a teacher explaining something to a student.
A dangerous choice.
A very dangerous choice.
Because Amara hated being treated like a student.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"You were twelve."
Absolute silence.
The room froze.
Again.
A recurring problem.
A very recurring problem.
The voice continued.
Calm.
Measured.
Certain.
"You attended a summer academic symposium."
Silence.
A memory flickered.
Briefly.
Faintly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
A university campus.
Large lecture halls.
Researchers.
Students.
The smell of old books.
The memory vanished before she could grab it.
The betrayal.
The incomplete-memory betrayal.
Undefeated.
Director Hale continued.
"There were forty-three participants."
A pause.
"Only six completed the final evaluation."
Another.
"Only one solved every problem."
Silence.
The room looked toward Amara.
Immediately.
Naturally.
Because of course it was her.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The surgeon looked deeply annoyed.
Actually annoyed.
Reasonably annoyed.
Because somehow she was being impressive against her will.
Again.
A recurring problem.
Director Hale's voice softened.
"You stayed behind after the symposium."
Absolute silence.
Something twisted in Amara's stomach.
Dangerously.
Because another memory surfaced.
A conference room.
A long table.
Several adults.
Questions.
So many questions.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then it vanished.
Again.
The betrayal.
The disappearing-memory betrayal.
Undefeated.
Victoria suddenly stepped forward.
Immediately.
"No."
Silence.
Director Hale stopped talking.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The specialist looked furious.
Actually furious.
A rare sight.
A dangerous sight.
"You promised not to use that."
Absolute silence.
The room froze.
Immediately.
Lorenzo's head snapped toward her.
Dangerously.
"What."
Victoria ignored him.
Completely.
Her eyes remained fixed on the phone.
"That wasn't part of the agreement."
Silence.
Director Hale sighed.
Again.
The universal sound of a man dealing with difficult people.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"It became necessary."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
The argument happened so quickly nobody else could keep up.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Amara looked between them.
Then frowned.
Dangerously.
Because suddenly...
A very uncomfortable realization appeared.
Victoria knew things.
A lot of things.
The betrayal.
The informed-specialist betrayal.
Undefeated.
"What agreement?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Victoria froze.
Immediately.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
For the first time since arriving in Chicago...
The specialist looked trapped.
Actually trapped.
Because there was no good answer.
No safe answer.
No answer that didn't create bigger problems.
Director Hale solved the issue.
Unfortunately.
Naturally.
The voice returned.
Calm.
Professional.
Terrifying.
"Fifteen years ago, Dr. Queen, you participated in a cognitive assessment program."
Silence.
Immediate silence.
The room collectively stopped understanding.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Amara's eyes narrowed.
"What kind of assessment?"
The pause lasted slightly too long.
Enough to matter.
Enough to terrify.
Then:
"The kind designed to identify exceptional individuals."
Absolute silence.
The temperature dropped.
Immediately.
Because suddenly this wasn't sounding academic anymore.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Lorenzo's expression darkened.
Dangerously.
The king hated this conversation.
Every part of it.
Especially the part where people apparently studied twelve-year-old Amara like she was a laboratory experiment.
A deeply reasonable reaction.
Very deeply reasonable.
Then something happened.
Something unexpected.
Something rare.
Amara remembered.
Not everything.
Not even most things.
Just one moment.
One sentence.
One voice.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
A man asking her a question.
Years ago.
A simple question.
The memory hit like a truck.
Dangerously.
Suddenly.
Completely.
Amara staggered backward.
Just one step.
Enough.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Lorenzo immediately moved toward her.
Of course he did.
The betrayal.
The protective-man betrayal.
Undefeated.
"Amara."
She barely heard him.
Because the memory was getting stronger.
A conference room.
A dozen researchers.
Questions.
Tests.
Then one final question.
One she hadn't understood at the time.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Her voice emerged quietly.
Almost unconsciously.
Like she was reading from a script she'd forgotten.
"If you could change the future..."
Absolute silence.
Director Hale stopped breathing.
At least metaphorically.
The entire room froze.
Immediately.
Amara continued.
Still staring into nothing.
Still trapped in the memory.
"...what would you save first?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Victoria closed her eyes.
Immediately.
Because she knew.
The specialist knew exactly what was happening.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Director Hale spoke for the first time in nearly a minute.
And for the first time...
He sounded emotional.
Actually emotional.
"Yes."
The word barely emerged.
Amara's pulse accelerated.
Dangerously.
Because now she remembered the answer.
The answer she'd given as a twelve-year-old girl.
The answer that apparently changed everything.
The answer she'd completely forgotten.
Until now.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then she whispered it.
And every person in the room felt the world shift.
"I said people."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Director Hale laughed.
Not warmly.
Not cruelly.
Not happily.
The laugh of a man who'd spent fifteen years waiting to hear something confirmed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Exactly."
And suddenly...
Nobody in the room was sure who should be afraid.
End Chapter 52