The owner of Pearl Manor races across the hallway, trying to keep a placid demeanor. Why did Fred do this? She scans the empty atrium below as she turns a corner, the gilded locket dangling from her neck. Why were my memories erased in the first place? Eliza halts, hands widespread to break her fall on the smooth marble floor. While she catches her breath, her gaze lands on the open hinged locket.
The novice shapeshifter pulls it closer to shut it, but stops when she notices something. "I don't remember checking what's inside," she mutters. Opening the locket wider, she views two sepia images on either side. "That's me," she says, stunned by the photo on the left. Why is my photo in here? She flits her gaze to the boy's image. I have seen him somewhere. She lifts her head, thinking while glancing at the array of doors on her right. She sighs, closing the locket. Focus, a patient requires immediate attention.
Taking in a deep breath, the owner marches down the hallway, tapping her earpiece. "Jessie, what are the patient's vitals?" She reaches the door, hearing no response from her virtual assistant. "Come on," Eliza snaps, tapping her earpiece. She stops, her gaze on the door before her, "Patient. I have a patient to see." She rubs her face, "Pull yourself together, Eliza."
Her gaze falls on the door lock, "It's unlocked." The owner slides open the door, eyes widened by the sight before her.
Carrie glances at her surroundings as she tries to get up from her bed, the monitors reacting noisily to her increasing heart rate and bp. "I was supposed to be at the airport," she mutters. She shrieks, not at the young, clearly distraught, brunette at the doorstep, but at her amputated arm, "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?"
"Ms. Smith," the lady says, rushing in. She glances at the alarming monitors, "Ma'am you need to calm down-"
"WHO ARE YOU?" Carrie says, careful with the tubes attached to her arm as she crawls back. Her eyes widen when she notices green blotches on the stranger's hands and forehead. "I'm Elizabeth," she says. "You are in a safe place." She pulls her white suit sleeves down to cover her incandescent marks, "You were in an accident last year."
"What?" The pilot says, trying to remove the straps that hold her to the bed. "Ma'am, you need to stay calm," Eliza says. "I'll explain everything."
"Where's my family?" The patient demands, scanning the hybrid room.
Eliza notices Carrie's wristband, which flickers a purple light. She has powers? "Ma'am, I'll explain everything. You need to calm down." She pauses when her gaze falls a pair of white soles near the foot of the empty bed before her. Oh no.
Carrie traces the oddball who rushes to the adjacent bed. "Where are you going?" Eliza kneels down to examine an unconscious Jason. "He's alright," she mutters, taking off his mask. "Who is he?" The pilot asks, leaning forward. The owner glances at her, "Don't worry. Your brother has just fainted."
"WHAT?" Carrie says, jumping off her bed. "Where is he?" Eliza turns to see the unconscious man, noticing a purple light flickering from his suit. He's invisible. The furious patient exhales sharply, when she gets no response from the young lady, "WILL YOU EXPLAIN WHERE-"
Eliza flits her gaze to Carrie who abruptly stops her speech. She gets up, brows arched, when she sees the patient quietly go back to her bed...with her eyes closed. She flinches when the other patient wakes up, "Jason?" She freezes when she sees his irises radiate a neon blue hue. He had green eyes. She steps back when he springs up.
"Someone's doing this," Eliza realizes when the young man sleepwalks to his assigned bed. "Uncle?" she scans the front door. She turns, glancing at the alcove, now on her left, "This is not funny."
She halts when her gaze falls on the mirror placed on the other end of the room, the reflection grinning with gleaming eyes. Eliza rubs her eyes in disbelief when she recognizes the young general in the mirror, "Great-grandma Susanne?"
"Please," the general in the mirror says, rolling up her sleeves. "Call me Sue." The agape shapeshifter slowly treads toward the encased spirit. I can't believe this.
"Is this great-grandma Susanne?" Eliza asks, glancing at the polaroid photo in her hand. She views the other mementos placed in the open casket before her: a compass, a meddley of postcards and telegrams, and a dull ruby medallion.
"Who?" Anthony says, emerging from a maze of stacked boxes. He places a marble statuette on the covered worktable before him and heads to the other end of the attic. "Yeah," he says, glancing at the monochrome photo his teenage daughter holds. He flits his gaze to the casket, "How did this come here?"
"Good we came here today," she says, scanning her grimy surroundings. "We found most of the missing items here." The teenager peers over her shoulder to view the multiple uncreased boxes, neatly stacked on the worktable. "We'll need to check the transmission channels* later," her dad says, studying the monochrome photo. She nods, glancing at the photo,"How old is this?"
"This was taken during the second world war," the grandson recollects. "She was the General of the Fifth Regiment*." He glances at the array of papers in the casket. "She was declared KIA in 1945," Eliza remembers. "So this was taken before that?"
"Yes," Anthony says. "Your great-grandma was an exceptional telepath that time," he glances at his daughter. "But she didn't use her powers during her time in the army." He places the photo back in the casket. "Why didn't she use it?" The nineteen-year-old asks. "I thought the Fifth Regiment represented our people." Her gaze falls on a mirror near the door. That's new.
"I don't remember the exact reason," her dad replies, closing the casket. "Here, I'll take it," she says, extending her gloved hands. "Keep it in my room," Anthony says, handing her the box. "And come back soon. We have a lot to clean here."
Eliza nods, heading toward the door. She glances at her reflection in the mirror as she makes her way across the maze of boxes. I don't remember seeing this before. "We don't have all day," Her dad's voice chimes.
"Okay," she says, exiting the attic, her gaze on the casket. "The mirror has the same frame design as this one."
Eliza inspects the austere oak frame of the mystical mirror. This is the mirror I saw three years ago. She glances at her great-grandma who casts a balming smile. A technicolor version of the photo. She muses, viewing the general in her green combat uniform, her auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun. How is she in there?
"How I'm here is not important," Sue replies, reading her mind. She looks at the two patients, and then at her, "The things that I'm about to tell are."
She glances at the locket around the shapeshifter's neck, "I know a lot of things have happened tonight, and you have a gazillion questions to ask." She places her hand in her trouser pocket, "But I'm sorry." She retrieves a bronze pocketwatch. "I don't have much time left. So I won't be able to answer your questions."
Her great-granddaughter steps forward to view the pocketwatch she shows. The hands are moving in an anticlockwise direction. Eliza muses as she watches the hour hand race toward the 2 'o' clock mark.
"First things first," Sue says. The shapeshifter lifts her head, gaze now riveted on the spirit's hazel eyes. "You need to calm down, Eliza. Your memories have been successfully restored, and so have your powers." She steps forward, her shoes merging with the foot of the mirror. "You need to trust yourself and believe in the memories that have begun to reel in."
"How do I know if my memories are true, and not altered?" The shapeshifter asks, the cases of distorted memories flashing in her mind. She steps back when the grinning general dissappears. Why did you ask? She said she won't be able to answer. She rubs her forehead. "You've asked a good question," Sue's voice chimes from the mirror. Eliza's jaw drops when a vibrant mosaic fills the mirror, each piece pulsating in its place.
"This is your current memory bank, Eliza," The disembodied voice explains. "They're adjusting to the inserted memory fragments. You can trust your memories since Fred hasn't altered anything. He's placed it exactly as it was, in the right places."
The general appears again, the mosaic fading behind her, "So please calm down and don't fight your memories when they rush in." The shapeshifter nods, subduing her conundrums. "I know it's difficult," Sue says. "That's why being calm is important." She casts a grin, "You will find the answers soon." Eliza casts a weak smile.
The general sighs, gaze now riveted on the gilded locket. "Now, do not remove that locket at all costs. This will help you maintain overall stability, as well as perform the main task in hand." The novice shapeshifter knits her brows, "Main task?"
Sue nods. "The conversation you overhead in Fred's room," She pauses, scanning the room. She flits her gaze to her great-granddaughter, "Actually occured." Eliza furrows her brows, trying to recollect the incident. Her great-grandma steps back, "I can help you remember the conversation." She rubs her hands, which cause them to glow a neon blue. "If you permit me to show you."
What Fred should've done. The shapeshifter muses. Asking consent. She glances over her shoulder, at the two patients. They're okay. She turns to face the telepath, "I want to know the conversation Fred had."
Sue smiles, clasping her radiant hands. "Okay, I will be performing a simple Peak procedure. You'll be watching one of your memories, which here is the conversation you overhead." She steps forward,"As you can see, I'm a spirit entrapped in here. So, I won't be able to accompany you in this procedure."
The shapeshifter nods. "Therefore, in the beginning of the procedure, you'll be handed a ball. Squeeze it once, when something smells fishy, and you will get out. Capisce?" Just like the locket. Eliza muses. The general grins, "Now, take a seat there." The young lady turns, glancing at the rustic couch in the alcove.
"Remember, just squeeze the ball once," Sue says, glancing at her great-granddaughter who is seated. She flashes a thumbs up to the telepath, her eyes gleaming blue.
Eliza scans her dark surroundings, "I'm back here." She takes in a few deep breaths, to calm her racing heart. Everything's going to be okay. I have Sue. She slams her eyes shut when the lights turn on. The shapeshifter rubs her eyes. Too bright. She shakes her head as she opens her eyes. "The ball," she says, feeling the smooth purple ball in her left hand, gaze accustoming to the telepath's room.
"I was Dad?" Eliza gapes at the wounded physician crouched beside the seated telepath. She straightens when she sees Fred's eyes glow orange. Yeah, someone did contact him. The shapeshifter steps back when her dad transmutes into her best friend. "Oh, so that's how I could hear." She smiles at the blonde, "I didn't know Jenny mastered this."
"Did it work?" A crisp voice asks. Eliza takes her seat on the adjacent couch, crossing her arms. "Yes, Macy. I have restored the girl's memories," Fred says, rubbing his hands. "Now lift the curse."
"When will her powers activate?" Macy demands. "It will take a minimum of six days for her powers to reactivate. You must stay patient if you want her."
Eliza glances at her alter self, "But I did recover my powers."
"Try explaining it to the boss," the other telepath replies. Eliza gets up from the couch. This is where I've heard. She freezes when Macy continues, "We've called the President here."
The shapeshifter arches her brows, "The who?" She cover her mouth when she hiccups.
"You think the President of Henwrich is dumb to come to your invitation?" Fred asks. "It's a distraction, Thornwood. The owner calling at a late hour and telling that she was behind the January attacks is a distraction."
Eliza rubs her face. "So the voice over the telephone...it can't be."
"That's how we can get access to the supercomputers in the Emerald House." She pauses, "You have one last chance, Thornwood. Where's the Panama papers?"
The owner steps forward, "The Panama Papers?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be here," Fred answers flatly. Macy chuckles, "Good."
"Why did you attack the President's daughter?," The old telepath protests. "If you had resources to splurge in organizing a nationwide attack, you could have invested in better recruits to handle the kid."
"Stepping out of line here," the telepath warns. "I don't want to discuss about Carrie here. What happened, happened. Now that she's dead, it's all sorted."
"So whoever Macy's working for, is the mastermind behind the January attacks," Eliza says, pointing to the old telepath. "So the main task is to catch the people behind this."
"Your grandson's curse has been lifted-," The disembodied voice abruptly stops. The scene dissolves into a dark room, making Eliza startled. What happened? She sees the memory guide before her, pacing up and down the room.
"She was supposed to get out now," Elizabeth says, clenching her pocket-watch. The shapeshifter approaches her, "What happened?" The memory guide looks at her, "Use that ball now. An infiltration has occured."
"What?" Eliza gawks. She glances at the purple ball, and squeezes it. "What?" She says, flinching when the ball melts out of her hand. "We're in deep trouble," Elizabeth says, tousling her long, brown hair as she sees the purple goo on the wooden floor. "Where are you going?" The shapeshifter asks, following the memory guide who darts out of the room. Elizabeth stops, scanning the gloomy atrium below, "We're late."
Eliza almost trips when she exits the room, "Late?" She lifts her head, eyes widened by the sight below, "Dad?!"
...
Tom hurries out of the room, placing his phone back in his pocket. Now they won't suspect her. His gaze falls on a wristband fallen on the hallway floor. "It's Tony's," he mutters, taking the black wristband.
"She detected cell activity here?" He says, reading the notification the chief technician sent. Tom rushes across the corridor. That's Carrie's phone. He reaches the hybrid room, gaze on the slightly open door. This is where they all are. He slides open the door, viewing the Smith siblings resting on their beds. Jason might have picked up the call. Tom looks down, searching the wooden floor as a white suit is donned on him.
"I need help here," a voice cries, making the shapeshifter straighten. He turns back to see his grandma, the frame of the mirror she's in, gleaming crimson. No. He flits his gaze to the alcove, stepping back when he sees the father-daughter duo seated on the couch, the blue aura encircling them turning into a nasty purple.
"I TOLD HIM NOT TO GO NEAR HER," Sue protests, her hands now a lambent indigo.
Footnotes:
* Transmission channels - Polycarbonate channels built for transportation of objects. Designed and manufactured by Alexa Barrings, Nathan Brooke and Elizabeth Banks (2006 - 2008)
* Fifth Regiment - Regiment representing deft superhumans. Funded by the ICJ and the Government of Henwrich. Now known as the Epsilon Squad.