Project Alpha

Chapter 22

"Marin?"

I followed the voice up through murky depths, gasping as I broke through the surface of consciousness.

A flash of bright light made me flinch and I squeezed my eyes shut again.

"It's ok, honey. I need to check your pupils." The voice was rich, warm and female. "I'll just be a second. Promise."

Wincing, I opened my eyes a crack.

"That's it. Just a little more now." The voice was gentle, so I let the light in.

"There we go. Left eye done. And now the right. Thanks, Marin."

The offending light disappeared and I blinked away harsh white spots that clung to my vision. Slowly, the world around me materialized. I was lying in a medical bed, with an iv hooked up to my arm and a light sheet over my legs.

Gazing down from a stool beside the bed was a familiar woman with dark expressive eyes, a close-cropped Afro and high cheekbones. A pair of oversized glasses were perched on her nose and she held a clipboard full of notes on her lap.

"Hi there." Her smile was welcoming and wide. "Nice to meet you, Marin. You might remember me from orientation — I'm Dr. Davis."

"Hi?" My voice squeaked and my bottom lip wobbled. A foggy memory bloomed inside my brain: Dr. Davis was the first mentor Dean Hawthorne had introduced at orientation. I seemed to remember her saying they were friends.

But what am I doing here?

"It's ok, honey. I'm sure you're wondering what's going on. You've experienced what we call a schism." Dr. Davis' voice was calm.

"A what? I don't understand. Is that bad?" Heart fluttering, my fingernails dug into the tender flesh of my palms.

"A schism. And no, it's not bad. It's just a symptom students like you tend to experience during Meta. Everything's going to be ok."

I figured Dr. Davis' smile was meant to be reassuring, but we'd just met, I was in a hospital bed and the last thing I remembered was Archer's voice calling out to me as I slipped into darkness.

I must've passed out during cognitive testing. Oh my god. I'm so embarrassed.

My cheeks were on fire as my thoughts tripped over one another, racing to figure out what the hell was going on. Dr. Davis' words rolled around my mind until they snagged on something that made me pause.

"Wait a second. What do you mean, students like me go through symptoms like this during Meta?" No longer a squeak, my voice sounded sharp as I tried to push myself up to a sitting position.

Dr. Davis rested a warm hand over mine. "Why don't we start over and I'll explain myself better. First off, every student at Mendel is unique in their own way. Uniqueness is something to celebrate. That said, you're not alone in your experience — here, let me show you."

Flipping to a new page on her clipboard, Dr. Davis turned her paper towards me and pulled a blue pencil crayon from her lab coat pocket.

"So, I'm drawing two circles here — see how they join together?"

Dr. Davis sketched two blue circles, one overlapping the other, leaving their edges conjoined.