A scream tore from Lucian’s throat as the vat rotated horizontally and the glass door hissed open, admitting the cool air of the lab.

  He had to get out. He had to escape. The only thing that kept him from running from the room was Dr. Nowak and Dr. Wallace restraining him.

  “Sit still!” Dr. Ross said firmly. “What’s gotten into you?”

  When she helped Lucian out of his mask, he gasped as if he’d never breathed in his life. He was so shattered that he couldn’t even form words.

  “Easy there,” she said. “You must’ve had a bit of a nightmare with that last one . . .”

  Lucian ignored the understatement. His mind reeled with the horrifying images, his heart pounding madly. What the hell had all that been about? The Voice’s refrain echoed in his mind. Lucian shut his eyes, willing the disturbing words away.

  “Just breathe,” Dr. Ross instructed in a firm voice. “In for four, out for eight.”

  It took a moment for Lucian to follow her instructions. He sat there a good minute or two, going through the breathing technique. By the time he had calmed, Dr. Wallace and Dr. Nowak had helped him stand. A bout of dizziness almost made him collapse, but the two male doctors were there to support him.

  “Stay still,” Dr. Wallace ordered. “Get your bearings.”

  It was another minute before Lucian felt calm enough to think straight. Had the doctors seen what he’d seen? But before he could embrace the reality of it, he freed himself from the doctors’ collective grip. He had to get out of here.

  “Where’s the shower?” he asked.

  Dr. Ross’s expression was a mask of concern. Lucian could only imagine the figure he cut in his pink-soaked scrubs.

  “That way,” she said, nodding toward the door across the lab. “We’ll give you ten minutes to get situated.”

  The doctors left, leaving Lucian to shower in peace. The globs of pink interface fluid slid off his body and down the drain. Despite the heat of the water, he was shaking as if he were freezing. Something had changed inside him, though he didn’t know what. He had never felt so alone, so hopeless. It felt as if a dark cloud was hanging over him, marking every move.

  By the time he stepped into the air dryer, he had relaxed a bit, but his hands were still trembling. The doctors had said nothing to prepare him for this.

  He tried to push the dream from his mind. It wasn’t his problem anymore. All he had to do was leave this place and forget this day for the rest of his life.

  As Dr. Ross said, the odds of him being a mage were low. One in a thousand by this point in the process.

  Then again, he could be the one. And in his first dream, he had done something that seemed a lot like magic: breathing underwater. And that second dream defied any description.

  Lucian dressed in his street clothes. He stepped back into the lab to find Dr. Nowak waiting for him.

  “Your paperwork is done,” he said. “You should have your results soon.”

  “Am I good to go?”

  He gave a cursory nod. “We’ll send them by email this time. If there’s anything of concern, we’ll call you back.”

  Lucian had the feeling that Nowak knew something that he just wasn’t saying. But he didn’t want to find out what that was.

  “Okay. Guess I’ll head out then.”

  “Take it easy.”

  The elevator ride down from the fiftieth floor seemed to take an eternity. Once Lucian stepped outside under the sweltering South Florida sun, he hurried across the street to the Lev station, still trembling a bit from the ordeal.

  He clenched his fists and climbed the stairs to the Lev platform. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder at the curving fa?ade of the League Health Authority gleaming above Biscayne Bay. Before, Lucian had been ambivalent about the League of Worlds, like most of its citizens. Its inefficiency was a nuisance that hardly touched him outside of the random inconvenience. But looking at that building now, it seemed like something sinister, the place where his dreams had gone to die. He suppressed a shudder.

  A magnetic Lev train pulled soundlessly into the station. A pass cost a small fortune, but the League had granted Lucian one for the week, free of charge, probably to ensure he made his appointment on time. Without it, he would have had to travel by water taxi through Miami’s hundreds of sprawling canals. The city had mostly sunk beneath the Atlantic by the 23rd century, more than a hundred years before Lucian’s time. Now, in 2364, the city was a patchwork of artificial islands, floating high-rises, and multitiered boardwalks, all interconnected by canals and Lev trains.

  Miami was home, even if the city was a run-down, crime-ridden mess for all but its richest citizens. Just as the city was drowned, so were most of the people who lived in the multistory tenements above its shadowed, watery passages.

  He stepped inside the Lev, trying to formulate a reason for his absence that his mother would accept. She had been on leave for no more than a week, and so far, Lucian had escaped her ire.

  If she found out the truth of why he was gone, though, all that could very well change.

  “Mom, I’m home.”

  The clatter of pots and pans told him she was somewhere in the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder, revealing a short woman with shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, and a round face.

  "Do you mind helping me with this, son?”

  Lucian got down a blender for her, setting it on the counter. A strand of hair fell across her face, which was pockmarked with several moles. She brushed the hair aside in agitation.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You keep things too high for me.”

  Though she’d only been home a week, it already felt like months. Just when he had almost forgotten her constant criticism, he was now reminded of it daily. She spent most of her time stationed with the First Fleet out of Sol Citadel, the League military starbase orbiting half a million klicks from Mars.

  His mother blended some fruit with milk and vitamin powder, offering it to Lucian.

  “Drink this,” she commanded. “I’m sure you’re still not getting enough fruits and vegetables.”

  He drank. When his mother told him to do something, it was much easier to comply.

  “Why do you look like that, son?” she asked, her left eyebrow arched in suspicion.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you swallowed a frog. And I know it’s not the smoothie.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Something happened. Tell me.”

  "Nothing has happened. I’m just worried about the exam; that’s all.”

  “That’s another month away. Something else is bothering you.”

  As Lucian struggled for words, she shook her head disapprovingly and started cooking.

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  “Maybe you’re just hungry. I’ll make you something more substantial.”

  Lucian held back his sigh of relief as his mother rummaged through the fridge. Anything that kept her off his case was fine by him. The last thing she needed to know was that her son might be a mage.

  She took out a few eggs and butter and started frying them.

  She sighed. “Out there, eating the slop they serve us, I miss cooking. I miss real gravity, too.” She flipped an egg, as if in demonstration of her point, and it sizzled on the skillet. “They say Sol Citadel is large enough to not notice any deviations in the artificial gravity, but don’t believe it.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “So, where have you been? Are you back with that girl? I forget her name. Lois, was it?”

  “Luisa. I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

  “That’s good. She liked to party too much. You need a nice girl, Lucian. Someone a bit older, someone who can take care of you and keep you out of trouble.”

  When she was home, his mother was going to act like a mother, and there was nothing he could do about that. She wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t sticking her nose into his business, but that was what she did ninety percent of the time. And he had to deal with it for the next six weeks. Lucian got the feeling they would be the longest six weeks of his life.

  Telling her what was going on was out of the question. That would just make her worry, and when she was worried, things got a hundred percent more difficult.

  “So?” she pressed.

  Lucian heaved a sigh. The woman could be insufferable. “Why do you always treat me like I’m half my age? I know it’s a crazy thought, but I’m entitled to my privacy sometimes. Do you tell me everything you go through on a day-to-day basis?”

  “I would if you asked.”

  Yeah, she probably would now that Lucian thought about it. “The exam is coming up. I’m worried. That’s it.”

  She shook her head. “Okay, fine.” She refocused on her cooking. “Eggs are done. You’re too thin, Lucian. How’ll you ever find a decent girl looking like that? You like all those fake girls who starve themselves and mod their faces. That might be why the last one looked a little funny. Those lips made her look like a trout.”

  “You’re being annoying, Mom. Can’t you find one thing nice to say about somebody?”

  “If you’re going to mod your face, at least pay the money to get it done right,” she went on, ignoring his point. She shook her head, signaling the end of her rant. “Food’s done. Grab a plate.”

  “I need to study.”

  “Eat, and spend some time with your dear old mom before she gets shipped back out. Is that too much to ask?”

  Lucian sighed. “Of course not.”

  If there was anything Lucian could count on from his mother, it was brutal, unrelenting honesty. He grabbed a plate, putting two eggs with hot sauce over a large spoonful of black beans. His mother made her plate, with a cup of black coffee to go with it. The aroma was so strong it tingled his nostrils. She could chug that stuff all day and not so much as twitch.

  Once seated at the table, they ate.

  “So good to be home,” she said. “Though it doesn’t feel much like home anymore. Your junk is everywhere.” She scrutinized him. “I have something to show you.” She retrieved her slate from her purse and slid it across the table, screen up, toward Lucian. The screen was open to the family inbox.

  There was an email, already opened, from the LHA. It was Lucian’s appointment reminder from today.

  Lucian hadn’t considered that the doctors would send it to the family inbox as well as his own. That was why she had been so insistent, giving him several chances to come clean.

  “Why didn’t you just tell the truth?” his mother asked.

  “Why were you trying to catch me in a lie in the first place, Mom?” he asked. “I’m allowed to keep parts of my life to myself.”

  “But this?” She pointed to the slate. There wasn’t any anger on her face anymore. There was fear. “Lucian, you need to tell me about stuff like this! A second metaphysical exam . . . this is serious!”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Lucian asked. “That’s where I was today. I said I was worried about the exam, and that’s the truth. It was an exam. It’s not even a big deal.”

  “But why would they do it again?”

  He needed to control himself, but that was difficult to do around her. She just took any stressful situation and multiplied it by a thousand. Lucian drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. They said my original exam was flagged, and they had to do a follow-up. It took about an hour, maybe two. But it’s going to be fine. They let me go, right?”

  For once, she was quiet, probably thinking of the ramifications. When she looked at him again, her eyes were hurt. “You shouldn’t keep this stuff to yourself, son.”

  He hadn’t told her because she would have just made him feel bad about it. Like she was doing now.

  “I didn’t want to bother you. You’re so happy to be home, and you’re still grav-lagged, anyway. The last thing you need is stress. I thought I was doing a good thing. Guess not, though.”

  “You were going to tell me, though?”

  “Yeah, of course. It’s not even a big deal. They said only one in a thousand who do the advanced testing is confirmed as a . . . mage.” Even the word was hard to say. “The odds are on my side. I just didn’t want to worry you.”

  He hoped she would take the olive branch. She reached her hand across the table, taking his. Maybe things would calm down now.

  “Lucian, you’re my son. You have to let me help you. I know, I’m not here all the time, and I know I haven’t been the greatest mother. But please, when I’m here to help you, let me be a mother.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  “Don’t do that to me. I work hard to provide for you, so you can go to school and get a good job. I try to come home when I can, but it’s hard to take time off. I’m guilty enough already without you making it worse.”

  “I’m not blaming you,” Lucian said. “I appreciate what you do, but I can take care of myself. And in another year, I’ll be supporting myself fully.”

  Assuming he passed the exam, he’d be working for the League. Not an ideal situation, and certainly not exciting, but it was stable, with plenty of room for advancement. The basic monthly stimulus was not enough to cover everything, but half of Earth’s population was forced to live on it alone. With a League job, he’d have good benefits, a steady salary, and wouldn’t have to pay for room and board.

  “I know you’re twenty now,” she said. “I know you’re your own man and all that. But this test is a big deal. It’s okay to lean on me. Just saying . . . I’m here. I always will be.”

  Lucian didn’t bother calling her out. She was gone all the time, though now that he was older, he understood she did it for him. With his father dead for fifteen years, she’d had to support him all on her own. She worked so that he could attend a costly boarding school that would help him get a good job with the government.

  But all that work had a cost; he’d mostly had to raise himself. There was a neighbor who checked on him sometimes over the years, but Lucian spent most of his time alone. During the Second Swarmer War, which lasted five years from age ten to fifteen, Lucian had seen her only twice.

  By now, Lucian had mostly repressed the insecurity he felt growing up, and that mostly meant learning not to care. It hadn’t been easy, but in time, Lucian came to prefer solitude.

  When the Swarmers finally retreated five years ago, Lucian started seeing his mother more. But by then, he had learned to make it on his own. Even if he hadn’t wanted to work an entry-level job with the League, he’d done exactly as his mother wanted, making himself study and work for it. He rarely drank, never used drugs, and took care of himself physically. He couldn’t afford to be passed over by the League officials, since he had no connections outside the Fleet. And his mother had been adamant about him never joining the Fleet, one thing he agreed with her on.

  So of course, he hadn’t told his mother about the second metaphysical. Like everything else, he’d deal with it on his own. By this time next week, it would be in the distant past. One more year of studies after the exam, and he’d graduate early. It was conceivable that a posting in the League would take him to other planets, too. Lucian had an itch to see the Worlds. He had never even been off Earth, but he was determined not to waste his entire life here. The opportunity was in the stars, not a drowning planet sinking a little deeper into hell every day.

  But what was the point of all that if the unthinkable occurred? Those dreams during the test had been pretty disturbing—the second one especially, with that creepy voice. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear it whispering in his ear . . .

  "Are you okay, son?”

  Lucian shuddered. “Yeah. Fine.”

  “You know fine is never an appropriate answer.”

  Would it hurt to answer honestly for once? He’d been burned before doing that. But her eyes were so concerned; maybe he could let down his guard this one time.

  “All right. I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about my results. That test was . . . something else. They put me in an MMI vat, and then I had these crazy dreams . . .”

  Lucian told her about the first dream, but not the second. That was just too weird to say aloud. She’d think he was crazy for sure.

  After he was done, his mother sat back and thought for a moment.

  “This might sound crazy, but your grandmother always had these little inklings. She’d walk into a house and know things. When she was alive, your father and I were about to buy a house back in Texas. But she said no the minute she passed through the door. She said a lot of sad things happened there.” She shook her head. “Thank God they didn’t test back then. She’d have been one.”

  The story made his gut churn. Being a mage wasn’t supposed to be genetic, but many people believed it was.

  “It’s going to be fine, Mom.”

  “The odds are small,” she admitted. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

  Lucian had a feeling the odds didn’t matter. Either he was a mage, or he wasn’t. Either his life was ruined, or it wasn’t. And if he was a mage, what then? Mages weren’t even allowed on Earth. They weren’t allowed on most worlds and orbital stations. After the Mage War fifty years ago, the Starsea Mages had left billions of dead, all in their power-mad quest for domination. Lucian could hardly blame the League for such stringent measures, given all that. He had some vague notion of what happened to mages—they were quarantined in these “Academies” as if they were maddened by the fraying already. There were only a certain number allowed on various worlds, and those worlds, in turn, received generous subsidies from the League for the risk of harboring them.

  And of course, there was the Mad Moon, Psyche. They said that if a mage couldn’t get into an Academy for training, they were sent there. Psyche was the mage prison world, set up for the prisoners of the Mage War. No one knew what it was like on the surface. Anyone who entered Psyche’s atmosphere could never leave. It was kept under heavy guard by the League Wardens from orbit, who had an entire fleet and defense network dedicated to making sure the mages down there never escaped.

  Those thoughts were pushed from Lucian’s mind when his slate chimed. He picked it up, the embedded nanotech adjusting its size to fit his hands perfectly.

  When Lucian read the message, his heart plummeted.

  “What does it say?” his mother asked.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. “They want me back at 2:00 tomorrow.”