STARSCAPE BOOKS(3)

“I’m sure you do.” He pointed to the marble. “But you’re starting to displease me. Let’s get back to the game.”

I remembered more. A swirling blur, like a TV show I’d halfway watched ten years ago. The game. He’d make me move the marble onto the target. Over and over. Roll it, float it, bounce it. There’d been all sorts of marbles. Glass. Steel. Pure black carbon. Plastic. Ceramic. I’d moved them all. Then he put up barriers. A sheet of glass. A cloth handkerchief. Metal foil. I guess he was testing to see what kind of stuff could block my power. But I could reach through anything. Glass. Steel. Flesh …

There were other tests, too. Distractions. Headphones with loud music. Noise. Blindfolds. Flashing lights. Strong odors.

I shuddered again as I remembered the electric shocks tingling through my arm, or the time the room smelled like ammonia. Sometimes, they’d attached electrodes to my head and printed out long strips of paper. There were several people who helped set up the equipment. They left the room before I moved the marbles. But Bowdler—he was always there for the marbles, and for all the unpleasant moments.

So he knew I could move things with my mind. There was no reason to pretend I couldn’t. If I did what he wanted, he’d leave, and then I’d have time to think.

Move the marble. No problem. I reached out toward it with my mind—just like someone would reach out with an invisible arm—except the arm is as long as I want, and there’s no limit to how many I have. I can be an octopus, or a hundred-handed giant like the ones in the Greek myths. Anything I can move with my muscles, I can move with my mind. The marble wouldn’t be a problem.

I reached out with my mind to lift the marble. But the marble didn’t rise. It didn’t even quiver. It lay there, as cold and silent as Bowdler. I clenched my teeth and tried again. Nothing. The air around me grew hot and damp. I wanted to try harder, but I didn’t know how. I was afraid to look at him. Afraid to tell him I couldn’t do it.

I stared at the marble and wondered whether I’d imagined everything. Maybe I didn’t have any power. Maybe none of my memories were real.

Martin, Cheater, Flinch, Torchie, and Lucky—had I dreamed all of them up? Had I invented their psychic powers, along with my own?

I wasn’t creative enough to do that. I could draw and I could paint. I was a pretty good artist. But I could never invent anything so amazing. Flinch could. Yeah, Flinch was creative enough to dream himself up. I’ll bet there was even a fancy word for that—dreaming yourself up. If there was, Cheater would know it. He knew all sorts of trivia. But if Flinch wasn’t real, how could he create himself?

Now I was definitely starting to sound crazy. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe I was just flat-out crazy.

“Excellent.” Bowdler flashed a thin smile in my direction, then reached inside the cardboard box. I expected him to pull something out, but he just fiddled around for a moment, then said, “Try again.”

This time, I had no trouble. I could feel my muscles unclench with relief as the marble rose. I floated it toward the target. But when it was halfway there, the marble dropped to the table.

I flinched as Bowdler pulled his hand from the box, expecting him to grab my wrist again. Instead, he scooped up the marble and the target, and put them away.

“Get some rest, my little puppet. Your real training is about to begin.” Humming, he pressed his palm against a metal plate by the door. The bolt slid open and he left the room.

I inched back along the mattress until I was wedged in the corner and hugged my knees tight against my chest, trying to vanish inside myself. This can’t be happening. I dug my nails into my leg. It isn’t real. The pain, still dull and distant, was real enough.

This is happening.

I remembered something Cheater had said, back at Edgeview. I could picture us, sitting in Martin and Torchie’s room.

“If they find out about us, bad things are gonna happen. People hate anyone who’s different.”

“Yeah. They could cut us up to figure out how we work,” Lucky said.

“Or lock us in a room,” Cheater said. “You know, use us for weapons. Or as spies.”

“It’s like a secret weapon,” Lucky said. “It works best if nobody knows about it. We can’t tell anyone.”

Back then, I’d thought they were being paranoid. But someone had found out about my talent and locked me in a room. I hadn’t been cut up so far, but I had no idea what they were planning. I’d give anything to be with the guys right now. Even if we all had to go back to Edgeview, where we’d been dumped like unwanted animals. Even there, among the bullies and the stink of despair.