Chapter 1

Through the edge of the tree line the large, gray building came into view, ivy climbed unkemptly over the north corner. The sun shone weakly through a haze of clouds diffusing the light enough that the full shape of it could be seen clearly with the naked eye. Asher paused for a moment to catch her breath. It had been a few hours since her last rest and without realizing, she quickened her pace for the final leg of the journey. Her heart thumped in her chest. Pulling the collar of her jacket closed around her neck, she stepped forward, passing the edge of the forest and entering the open space of what was once a warehouse parking lot, now overrun with sprouting weeds breaking up the asphalt into awkward chunks. She navigated them carefully, looking around her for any sign of humanity. She saw no one but knew that certainly she was being watched by one sentinel at least.

Black lettering read this is it with an arrow pointing to a nondescript door toward the south end. The writing was unexceptional and unlikely to draw the attention from someone not knowing what to look for. A caw sounded from above her as she reached the door’s handle. She looked up and spotted a large black bird perched on the roof’s edge staring down at her. His eyes held hers until she looked away. She knocked. The door opened instantly, and she stepped inside.

There was nothing inside that marked the building’s significance, just a simple stairwell with a sizable landing. Had a stranger walked in it would have looked like any of the other abandoned buildings that littered the landscape of what used to be. Most had been overtaken by nature, but this one was in good shape. The vines and weeds had to work hard to break up the asphalt and the surrounding concrete, but the building had not been overcome. To her right stood a large, bearded man. His face was weathered but he looked younger than herself. He closed the door wordlessly behind her and indicated with a nod of his head that she should climb the stairs.

“Thanks.” She said simply. She adjusted her pack’s straps and reached for the handrail. She climbed the stairs slowly. Her legs ached from the long walk, and she silently lamented when she reached the first landing and realized she had to climb another flight. Another guard waited for her at the top. This guard was smaller than the first, dressed in a large, dark coat covered in sagging pockets. They chewed gum and stared intently at her. The guard tilted their head to the side to get a look at her pack. It was clear they wanted to further examine the contents but said nothing. They nodded and opened the door while it creaked loudly, gesturing for Asher to walk through with a wave of the hand.

Again, Asher was the only person to speak. “Nice talking to you.” She said with a curt nod as she walked past. The door made a loud bang as it shut behind her. She paused for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkened corridor. Her footsteps were quieted by a series of mismatched rugs. A few large pieces of art hung along the walls at random intervals. Their ornate frames contrasted oddly with the painted cinder block walls. She stopped briefly to admire a large painting of a lone ballerina on stage before an audience.

The end of the hallway was coolly illuminated by the gray sunlight outside. The corridor opened at her right to reveal a sizable room with a high ceiling. To the left, windows framed in black steel stretched the height of the room. It was clear this building had been used for some type of manufacturing, but now the space resembled a kind of makeshift library. More rugs were strewn about the floor. Bookcases lined the walls on all sides, their shelves crammed with volumes, some more neatly organized than others. The overflow of books stacked high on top of the shelves or else on the floor next to and in front of them. A pair of well-worn armchairs sat empty in the corner of the room. A few candles and an oil lamp were arranged on a table between them. In front of her was a couch and a large wooden desk. The room was warm and the smell of the old books was comforting. An older, clean-shaven man in a fisherman’s sweater sat at the desk writing. His body posture shifted to indicate he knew she was there and was just completing his last thought. He made a show of dotting the period at the end of his sentence before standing to greet her.

He stretched his arms wide in welcome. Stepping around the desk, he took her hand in both of his. “Asher! It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time. How was your trip here? No trouble, I hope?” He gestured for her to have a seat on the sofa. Asher made quick work of removing her pack and jacket, grateful for the opportunity to sit down. She reclined fully into the cushioned seat closing her eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing herself to resign into relaxation, something she could not often afford. She looked at him with a tired smile.

“Good to see you, too, Ren.”

Ren smiled warmly at her and leaned against the desk in front of her. He clasped his hands and let them fall into his lap. He looked her over in silence, allowing her a few moments of hard-earned peace. “Can I offer you some tea?”

“No coffee?” She asked, her voice hopeful. She had to try.

“I’m sorry, no.” Ren said. “Hard to come by these days. There is a crew scheduled to return tomorrow from a survey. Perhaps we’ll get lucky.” He smiled at her before walking to a small buffet against the wall. She watched him light a gas burner with a match he pulled from his pants pocket. He set a flowered tea kettle on top and busied himself pulling teacups and supplies from the shelves underneath.

He turned to face her again. “Any news to report?”

“Not really.” She said matter-of-factly. “It’s been quiet. There was a group that came through, but they set up in the low grounds and they were flooded a few times. They packed up and headed south. It’s not going to be better for them there. I did talk to one of them, but he seemed too far gone. I didn’t think the risk was worth it, so I laid low until they left. They didn’t even scavenge for supplies, and they camped in view of my lumber stores! They could have easily built a raised floor. It seems like it’s getting worse for them.”

“Yes. I’ve heard the same about other groups of Unseers.” Ren’s face was concerned. “There is promise with a group up north. They found someone we think has familiarity with the medical field. They are working with him, and it does seem his memory is improving. The scout sounded hopeful about his potential for sight, as well.”

Asher knew enough not to get her hopes up. It was a long shot to rehabilitate an adult Unseer. She had felt the disappointment first-hand on more than one occasion. Memory was the easy part. You could train minds using calendars and clocks. They could shadow daily routines and note the changes in light and weather. It took time, but it could be done. Sight—teaching someone how to connect to the collective mind and understand the new world—was much more unlikely, especially given the trade. Humanity before the end had understood the field of medicine to need multiple degrees and field practice. Those systems were gone now. There were only books and insight. Humans were capable of all trades, but had trouble believing in their abilities without the validation of a paper certificate. All humans struggled to retrain themselves in basic survival after the end, but the Unseers were those unable to recover. The were faring poorly in the variable climate. Unseers had lost the ability to save themselves from the harsh changes in weather and living conditions. They seemed unable to make predictions or plans to keep themselves safe and they were dying stupid, preventable deaths, either by starvation or natural disaster. It would take a very strong mind to trust insights of medical care enough to help others with any reliability. Over time, it seemed the adult Unseers had only gotten weaker. In some cases, their children had been successfully taught survival. Although hope of finding anyone capable of new sight had been waning the last few years. Some of the younger ones already questioned if the stories of awakenings were myths. 

“A doctor would be great.” Asher said.

“Indeed.” Ren said. “I hope to have good news at your next visit. Do you have your logs?” He poured the water for their tea.

“Yep. Mostly psych stuff this time. Some survival prep and irrigation ideas that I think will work for the drought in the northwest.” Asher pulled several tattered notebooks from her pack and placed them on the seat next to her. “Some new techniques that might help with the younger ones. I think if we move them here earlier, we might have better success before the limitations have a chance to root.”

“Move them? Are you suggesting we remove them from their families?” Ren placed her cup on the table beside her.

“I can’t see any other way to do it.” Asher said. “The ties are too strong. The reports say all the work is undone each night when we send the children back to their families.” 

“Yes.” Ren agreed. “I hear from the teachers that it is a particularly frustrating practice. The children seem to believe their parents’ doubt over their own experiences. They return fearful and mistrusting of the teachers. Don’t you think a separation will cause damage to the neural networks?”

“No more than the nomadic life and slow starvation does!” Asher was careless with her response. Removal would cause tremendous psychological pain for the children and would become an unknown variable in their experiments. An ethical gray area at best. The Unseers were getting weaker, and she was despairing on their behalf. “The adults are too far gone at this point. Have you talked to any of them lately? Most of them can’t even smell the rains coming!”

Ren considered her for a moment. He could see the stress of desperation written on her face. She had been alone for 4 months this time. The longest stretch so far for her, and twice the length of any other scribe. It was true that scribes produced better work if they had long solitary periods, but they were still human. Isolation was difficult for even the strongest minds.

“Perhaps you’d like to take someone back with you this time? Maybe a musician, or a storyteller? You get along well with Will, don’t you? I can ask if he’s willing.” Ren was playing matchmaker now. Will and Asher had a romance during their training days and although it ended, they remained good friends. Will was a powerful storyteller at Main who taught recruits and found tribes about the greater missions. He was able to walk the line of dire importance and hope beautifully. Asher had great respect for his work.

“I’m fine.” Asher insisted. “Plus, we need him here.”

“Not at the moment, unfortunately. We haven’t found any new potentials for weeks and everyone here has heard his tales.” He waved his hand and smiled. “Even the best stories get old, you know. Some of the children have started writing them down. They’ve even created art depicting the more ostentatious ones. There’s a beautiful quilt of the great lightning storm you should see before you go. The child wove in some strands of copper wire to show the destruction of the electrical system. It’s quite remarkable.” Ren sipped his tea as he leafed through the first of her notebooks. Asher lifted hers but didn’t drink. She wrapped her hands carefully around the cup and took in the scent slowly. Cinnamon chai. She knew this was a luxury and she was grateful for Ren’s kind gesture.

They sat in silence together. Ren quietly reviewed her notes, periodically pausing to stare off in thought. Asher sipped her tea slowly, occasionally aware of hollow footsteps in the hallway outside. She was not used to hearing the noise of other people so regularly. She thought about what it would be like to have Will’s company back home. Penny would be happy to see him. Will was great with dogs, and she was sure the mutt was tired of her company. Admittedly, Asher was not as fun as she used to be. Her work as a scribe had grown into an obsession without the distraction of other people. When she settled onto her cushion for a day’s work, Penny wandered out into the woods to chase after rabbits and other small animals, but she always returned at night to the foot of Asher’s bed. It would be good for her to have Will around. Maybe she would ask him to come back with her.

“This is interesting.” Ren interrupted her thoughts. “The bit here about analyzing delusions that arise during deep training as an alternate timeline in the present. Fascinating.”

“Yes. I thought so too. It could help to calm the potentials to explain what is happening in these terms. They may be more communicative, if we frame it in a positive light. Like a mystery to be solved.” Asher sat forward in her seat. She loved talking to Ren. Her only interactions over the past few months had been one-sided conversations by the fire with Penny, and on three separate occasions she spoke with Unseers about the weather.

Ren and Asher continued reviewing her logs for hours. Ren asked exhaustive questions to be sure he understood each concept in exactly the way she intended. They talked animatedly about the plausibility of using multiple Sighted trainers in tandem for each Potential. Multiplying efforts seemed to yield better results and a systematic implementation would be easier to measure. Ren had stepped out for a moment to request their evening meal be brought to them. They worked right through, stopping only briefly to savor a few bites of the smoked venison and perfectly seasoned potato and onion hash. At camp, Asher existed on foraged plants and unmarked tin cans very rarely filled with anything enjoyable. As they both strained to read the pages in the dimming light, Ren suggested she head to the commons to socialize for the evening. They’d finish their review in the morning. He had a few notes to send out before he retired for the night. He pulled a stack of fresh notebooks from his desk drawer and handed them to her. Asher shoved them into her pack and put on her jacket.

“Stay for a while this time?” Ren said, gently squeezing her shoulders. “Enjoy yourself here among the community. See the projects we’ve got in the works. They’ve had success reconnecting some old ethernet systems locally. The scribes overseeing it are hopeful.  It’ll be good to remind yourself what we are working toward.” He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Good work out there.”

“Thanks, Ren.” Asher said. She smiled at his earnestness. She gave him brisk hug, slung her pack over her shoulder, and turned to leave.

“One more thing.” Ren said. Asher turned back to see him holding out a closed fist in front of her. A playful smile stretched across his face. He slowly unfurled his fingers to reveal a single foil wrapped chocolate before her. She plucked it quickly from his palm. Ren chuckled to himself as she left.