Pearl

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Faction

"You see, I am what you may call the progenitor of the Pearson line."

"Mom's...maiden name?"

"Yes, dear. I am the original Pearson, if you can imagine that."

"I can't."

"I never asked the opinion of a Thompson."

Victor couldn't hear the tension in the room, but he could taste it.

 "I am not the only progenitor out there, you see. Not to say that every family has one--that would be simply absurd--but it's more common than you may think. We are, this faction of progenitors, quite unique in the scope of human development."

Victor gave up his battle, extracted his right hand from its grip on the wall, and pressed it firmly into his jaw. Regardless of the content, simply experiencing the conversation above through Pearl was too much to bear, enough to make his inner ear itch wildly and his stomach churn with nausea.

"Special...how?"

"Well, I believe you've seen evidence of that."

Silence, blessed silence, reigned in the room above for nearly a minute.

"So, what, you're like a psychic?"

"Something like that, m'boy, yes."

"How old are you?"

"Older than you'd care to know."

"So... you're like our great-great-great grandfather? On our mother's side?"

"Clever girl. Yes, something like that."

"What does this have to do with my daughter's condition? Why are you here right now?"

"Your daughters are showing signs of having inherited some of my gifts. It's not uncommon, when my kind chooses to reproduce, that even generations later our talents begin to manifest. Both of your daughters show signs of latent telepathic abilities. Lyly, perhaps, even more so now that she has been...altered. In fact, I very much believe that her survival to this point has been due to her inherited, but unrealized, abilities. And, on the same note, this is the reason that Rebecca is being targeted by the same group."

Victor snapped.

Unable to bear the sensation any longer, he slammed his face into the wall with all of his strength. The crunch of his nose against the concrete, the scraping of the skin of his cheek against the rough surface, was a welcome respite from the vibrations. His whole body resonated with their words, his jaw twitching with a peculiarly shrill ring from the conversation. 

In the back of his rational mind, he was rapidly and astonishedly trying to process what he was hearing. But in the animal portion, the portion in control right now, he was absolutely unwilling to endure anymore.

He panted, breathing in deeply but rapidly as the pain from his self-inflicted wounds radiated across his face. A warm tickle down his upper lip announced that his nose was bleeding, and the sharp sting along his cheek indicated further damage.

But at least the vibrating had stopped.

...The vibrating had stopped.

All color vanished from Victor's face as the blood drained down, and he took a tentative look upwards. No one looked out from the window, seeking the cause of the disturbance. But no one was speaking, either.

"Well, I think that is quite enough for tonight. I've given you plenty to think about – more, really, than we ever tell individuals who will not join our ranks. I'll make my way home for now, and return later to continue this chat," a voice began again, and Victor could feel the hesitance in the words.

"Wait! No way! You can't drop some ridiculous bomb like this on us and then just walk away like it has nothing to do with you! What are we supposed to do with this information?"

"What you do with this information is for you to decide. I have expressed my goodwill by being this forthcoming with everyone here, but my interest really only lies in Lyly's potential to join the faction, and in Rebecca's potential for growth. You, my boy, have nothing to show for your extraordinary lineage. Except, perhaps, for all of the bad aspects of Lynne's strength of will."

Victor hung from the wall, almost slack against it now, and would have certainly fallen if not for Pearl's firm grip.

"...Fuck you, you crazy old bastard."

"I will return when I am able to continue this conversation. But Lyly, know you have at least one more ally in your fight. And know, too, that the faction is keeping an eye on you. Nothing is more important to us than keeping supra-humans out of the public eye. And we will do what it takes to make sure that remains the case."

The world clouded over in static as Victor's body and mind failed to handle the over-stimulation caused by Pearl's wire-tap connection to the room above. He almost didn't hear when the window slid open, almost missed it entirely when an older, well-dressed gentleman type emerged from the room and floated gracefully, naturally, in the air above him.

More conversation filtered out from the room, but Victor was losing focus. Somehow, his eyes found and locked with those of the old man's.

He saw something there. Interest, sure. Appraisal.

But something else.

Yes, what he saw in those eyes above all else was pure, unadulterated contempt.

The edges of his vision grew blurry and dark, seeming to narrow his focus on the face of the old gentleman. The man approached slowly, reaching out with a gentle hand to grip Victor behind the neck.

"Come, now. I think it's time you and I had a talk," said the voice, the first time Victor could hear it properly through his ears. It was firm, intelligent, not at all the frail wavering tone he might have assumed from the aged frame of the speaker.

Pearl slowly unwound itself from the nooks and crannies of the building, retreating back into Victor's arm as if it had never been.

"Fascinating," said that voice again, as Victorlet the darkness drag him down.