* * *

  This is not working.

  Sarah doodled an explosion on the bottom of the half-empty page of her notebook.

  Nothing more was coming out. There was also nothing new to add about the things she recognized, no hidden symbolism her mind had suddenly deciphered for her. She skimmed through the page.

  She’d put down a couple of observations about the white room and gray halls with no windows.

  Below where she’d described the nightmare where Robyn shot her, she drew a line, separating it.

  The next part had only the words smoke and fire.

  Putting the pencil down to mark the page, she closed the notebook before scratching at an itchy spot over her stomach. Was she bitten by a mosquito?

  * * *

  Sarah picked at the colorful adhesive on her palm, where several minor cuts were now healing. Only a larger cut still needed the bandage and it wasn’t that bad.

  Suppressing a yawn, she checked the screen again. The computer was still listing the search results from the query she ran for Lore’s project. After she was done with sending these over, she’d take a break. She hadn’t been sitting there for long, but her brain felt on the verge of giving up on her.

  It had been days since she slept properly, ever since Pegasus’ near death. She brushed a hand over her forehead, wiping that thought away. It had been several very long days.

  She’d finished all the tests Dr. Blue had requested, though Zeus did not clear her to go see the psychiatrist down in Center. Since neither Athena nor Dr. Blue had been told about the future-seeing hypothesis, they were solely focused on a medical reason for her issues. It was good that someone was, but so far the tests had yielded nothing of importance. She was apparently stressed, but she could’ve just told them that.

  An added cause for her stress was the verification procedure. Thankfully, the seemingly endless stream of interrogations designed to prove that she was herself was also over. Upsetting as it had been to discover, the fact that Zeus had kept her under watch this entire time made the process slightly less painful. Slightly. It still went on for several more hours than she would’ve liked.

  The overall conclusion of the investigation was that she was herself—who would’ve guessed? She was allowed to go back to work in a non-essential role for the time being. With some added precautions.

  Sarah scratched at the spot where they’d reactivated the tracker she’d gotten as a recruit. That was one of the precautions, so they could keep track of everywhere she went inside the compound without keeping someone with her all the time.

  Was it always that itchy?

  She imagined a camera transmitting nothing but her activities throughout the day for Zeus to watch whenever he was bored.

  Maybe she was paranoid. But since they hadn’t let her out of their sight the past year when she was only of questionable interest, there was no way they were going to take their eyes off her for a second now that she might be a threat. She was surprised they let her out of her room at all, never mind handed her any work.

  Considering the alternatives—some that weren’t so innocuous—the constant surveillance, endless medical tests, and that itchy thing seemed like a small price to pay for the illusion of being free to do as she pleased.

  Not that she was doing much else at the moment other than sorting out reports for Lore’s research. She was obviously not allowed near any active investigation or high-priority data.

  But having some work to do was still better than being alone in the chaos that had become her room as she tried—and failed—to organize her thoughts.

  A warning message appeared on the screen. Four of the files that Lore had requested weren’t on this repository. Sarah made an annotation in the task and added a mental note to message Lore about it later.

  The memory of meeting Lore at the Foundation Day party—or the illusion of it—popped into her mind.

  They’d been talking about the files Sarah had sent over by mistake, and Lore said that one of them might be helpful, but she wasn’t sure. Someone could have made a mistake, she said. But that was so vague.

  What kind of mistake?

  And had that conversation been a vision of the other world or simply a dream?

  If it had been a dream, there was no point in thinking about it, but if a vision—the word still sounded so ridiculous—then would both versions of Lore be doing the same project as a hobby? And would Sarah have sent her the same wrong files by accident?

  She should send Lore a message about that, but what would she say?

  Did you by chance run into something super important you might’ve forgotten to share with the rest of us?

  It was entirely plausible that both versions of Lore were gathering archived files as their weird pet project.

  Sarah bolted from her seat, slamming her palms down on the desk. There was a twinge of pain on her hurt palm. She cursed, thankful there was no one in the repository but her.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Lore! Why didn’t she think of it sooner?

  There was an obvious way to check if that conversation with Lore was a dream or not. She’d never met Lore in real life, never even seen a photo of her. If Lore looked like the dream, then that part at least had been real.

  Sarah laughed giddily, remembering the cameras a second later. She glanced over at where one of them would be located. “I hope you’re having fun watching me.”

  “I am, very much so.”

  Sarah whirled to find Pegasus laughing at her.

  She hadn’t noticed him at all, but she was at least proud of herself for not being startled by his sudden appearance.

  Pegasus came closer to look at the screen. “I take it work has been going well.”

  “Well enough. I’ve switched out being bored for being tired.” She stopped herself before she could scratch her stomach. “Hey, is the tracker supposed to be this itchy?”

  “It might be because they turned on the microphone function.”

  It took her a second to realize he was joking.

  Pegasus chuckled. “Zeus asked me to fetch you.”

  “Are you a dog? Wait. Am I a ball?”

  She turned back to the screen, closing the search logs from Lore’s project.

  Pegasus pointed at the screen. “You can put the rest back into the system. I saw Foxtrot eating an actual lunch, so I don’t think they’re too busy right now.”

  Sarah did as he instructed and followed him out. “Do you know what he wants to talk to me about?”

  “Your hopes and dreams, I’d wager.”

  Sarah watched his unchanged expression, thinking there should have been more mirth in his tone. It was a bad sign that he sounded as concerned as he looked.

  She still felt weary of, not to mention upset at Zeus for several of his decisions, like having people report back on her.

  Clay.

  Even Pegasus was supposed to fulfill that role, though he promised her he wouldn’t betray her trust unless lives were in danger. Would that promise still hold after all this?

  She couldn’t entirely fault Zeus for keeping tabs on her. And she appreciated the fact that he wasn’t immediately dismissing everything she’d told him. Or locking her up in the brig and going from there.

  More nervous than she’d admit, she made a conscious effort to not look like she was hiding behind Pegasus when they entered Zeus’ office. His gaze went to her left foot, the bandage now hidden inside comfortable sneakers, and then to her hand. He likely couldn’t see the small adhesive in her palm.

  He gestured at the chairs. “How have you been?”

  Sarah waited for Pegasus to sit before she took the other chair for herself. “Fine.”

  “Nothing new then?”

  She shook her head, bracing herself for a verbal onslaught.

  Zeus watched her, transforming into a statue before her very eyes. A flesh and bone statue. Sarah was deciding if she should check first for a gorgon hiding under his desk or a basilisk in the vents. She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but Pegasus didn’t seem concerned. He, too, barely moved.

  Sitting there with two motionless companions, Sarah did her best to look as if she had some shred of patience in her.

  Zeus came to life from one second to the next. “An oversight committee will be arriving soon.”

  “What are they coming here for?” Pegasus asked.

  Zeus waved his question off. “It should probably go without saying, but there is to be no mention of this dream business when they get here.”

  Sarah nodded. She wasn’t in any hurry to disclose this to anyone.

  “You’ll remain on medical leave. Having you cleared for minor tasks should lessen any suspicions that something bigger is going on.”

  It sounded like he wanted to keep her and her hallucinations out of the oversight committee’s radar. “Should we be worried?”

  “It’s an efficiency evaluation of sorts,” he said, dismissive.

  But Sarah happened to glance at Pegasus as Zeus gave his answer, and she was sure Pegasus looked troubled.

  There was an odd beep, probably someone else requiring Zeus’ attention. He checked his screen and Pegasus rose as if they had been dismissed. Sarah followed his lead, but Zeus called after him before they reached the door.

  A look passed between the two men. Sarah hadn’t been able to interpret it, but Pegasus stepped back, holding the door open for her. “Could you please wait for me outside?”

  Sarah hesitated, but it wasn’t as if she were going to decline. She stared out at the corridor as the door closed behind her, wondering if she’d be able to tell if they were talking about her.

  * * *

  Pegasus closed the door, but didn’t return to his seat. Zeus’ poker face remained unreadable. “Are you going to tell me why we have an oversight committee coming down here?”

  “I will as soon as I can cut through all the bullshit they’re trying to give me.”

  Pegasus sat back down. They should be worried then. Not even the other Robyn’s infiltration of their compound had warranted an oversight investigation, so why now?

  “They haven’t been very upfront about when they would get here, so when they do, I need you to keep Sarah out of their way and under control.”

  “Under control? Really? That’s possible?”

  Zeus was clearly not amused by the joke. “Have you had a look at anything she’s put together yet, about what she’s seen during these episodes?”

  Pegasus shook his head. “It doesn’t sound as if there’s anything concrete. I also didn’t want to place any additional pressure on her.”

  “Is there any way we could trigger one of these…”

  “Premonitions?” Pegasus suggested, trying very hard not to laugh at the word. He almost succeeded, but a twitch in the corner of his lips betrayed him.

  Zeus looked upwards as if asking the skies what he’d done to deserve this.

  Pegasus did laugh then. “Well, what do you want to call them? Psychotic breaks?”

  “Let’s stick with episodes for now. Can we trigger them?”

  Pegasus shrugged. “She wasn’t with us the time when I almost died. I couldn’t even contact her to tell her I was leaving. There might not be anything triggering it but the alternate event itself.”

  “I wonder if the footage from the mission she interfered with—”

  “You mean the one where she saved me?”

  “That might be enough of a trigger.”

  Pegasus tapped at his armrest. “It might, but that’s not my main concern.” He was worried about pushing Sarah too far, especially after what he’d seen that day when she broke the mirror. It made his insides go cold just thinking about it.

  “I know. But I would rather not have to wait indefinitely for something we could verify.”

  Pegasus did his best to keep his expression neutral. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

  Zeus nodded. “I don’t want her going anywhere in the meantime.”

  “I’ll ask Doc Brown to get her some vitamin D supplements.”

  Zeus glared at him, signaling he get out of there.

  Pegasus smiled back, resisting the urge to further provoke him. “I’ll see you later then.”

  Sarah was waiting right outside the door for him, which was mildly surprising. He’d half expected to have to track her down.

  “Did he say anything else about that oversight committee thing?” she asked as soon as he closed the door.

  “Not really.”

  “But that’s not normal, right?”

  “What is normal these days?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t know why they would be coming here. There shouldn’t be any reason for it.” Unless it were coming from higher up. Even so, he couldn’t think of a reason. “Zeus told me to keep you out of the way when they show up.”

  “Lest I have some weird episode right in the middle of Comm when they’re here?”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

  Sarah became silent as they walked down to the living area. He wanted to hold her hand and comfort her, but he was afraid of crossing the line any further than he already had. He led her to her room, though she didn’t seem to realize it until they’d stopped in front of her door.

  “Can I have a look at your notes?”

  “There isn’t anything that makes much sense in there. Nothing that seems useful, at least,” she warned, leading him into the room.

  Pegasus stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw her wall. Where her mirror used to be was now something out of a murder mystery.

  Sarah sat down on her bed. “Right, I forgot to mention that.”

  He walked up to the conspiracy-board-looking collage of notes, diagrams, and random words taped to the wall facing her bed. “Should I be worried?”

  “If you’re not yet, there’s something very wrong with you.”