Porter slides his half-eaten cannoli toward me. “They really do have the best cannoli in town.” He nods at it, insisting I finish it. But I’m too nervous to think about food.
“Why don’t I talk and you eat?” he says, nudging the cannoli again. “Perhaps I’ll start with the visions. I assume they are why you’re here, yes?”
I sit up at attention. “How do you know about the visions?”
“You’ve always had them. And the dried blood in your hair was a tip off. You’ve just come back from one, haven’t you?”
My hand flies to the knot on the back of my head, the surprise clear on my face.
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says. “It can be such a dangerous journey, no matter how old you are or how much experience you have.”
I don’t even try to figure out what that means. “What are they?” I say. “The visions?” The words tumble out, my voice sounding like gravel.
“They’re a side effect. Of your ability. No other Descender has them, though. Only you.”
“Descender?”
“A Descender is someone who descends to the past. That is your ability.”
“You mean, by imagining it? Someone who can visualize the past in their mind?”
“No. I mean someone who can travel to the past by means of their soul.”
I let out a puff of air. “What, like time travel?”
“You say it like it’s science fiction, and yet you’ve known they weren’t just visions for years now, haven’t you?” He leans forward, his pale eyes locked on mine. “You’ve known on some level ever since Jamestown.”
My mouth drops. “How did you know about Jamestown?” I place my fists on the checkered tablecloth. “Have you been talking to Dr Farrow? Is this one of her tests?”
“Doctor who?”
“The idiotic psychiatrist from AIDA who thinks I have schizophrenia.”
“Ah, yes. The one you spilled all your secrets to.” He cocks a white eyebrow at me. “You were supposed to come to me when you were ready for answers, you know, not some doctor. And by all means not someone who works for AIDA.”
“How was I supposed to know that? I don’t even know you.”
Porter waves a hand like it’s no big deal. “Doesn’t matter now. I’ve taken care of it. No harm done. I just wish you would’ve paid attention to the signs. I thought you’d be smarter than that.”
“What signs?”
His brow knits together again, and he gives me the same look most people give Audrey when they find out she has cancer.
Pity.
“I suppose you didn’t know what they were,” he says. “Your memory issues must still persist, despite your IQ. I guess I underestimated your defect. It really is quite severe, as far as Descenders go.”
I heave a sigh. I’m getting tired of his riddles and nonsense. “I didn’t come here to be reminded of how much of a freak I am. I get enough of that at school. So if you don’t have any answers for me…” I grab my backpack to leave.
“Oh, no, Alex, I’m sorry.” He stretches a hand toward me, and I pause when I hear the sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m going too fast, and I realize I’m not making much sense. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave.” He lowers his hand and his voice softens. “I must have practiced what I’d say to you a thousand times, and here I am getting it all wrong. I apologize, truly. What do you say I start over? From the beginning?”
I frown and drop my backpack at my feet. Waiting.
It’s not like I would’ve left anyway. I don’t know if I could walk away from this guy now, even if he is frustrating. He’s the first person to give me answers that line up with what I already believe – that my visions aren’t hallucinations. He’s the first person to give me validation, no matter how confusing he’s been so far. And if he knows about the visions, then he might know how I can get back to Blue.
“What do you know about the AIDA Institute?” he asks.
I sigh through my nose. It’s the same sassy sigh Mom grounds me for when I use it on her. “What everyone knows. They’re the biggest cancer research institute in the world.”
“Right. But cancer research isn’t all they do.”
“I know. They have tons of different divisions. They’re like an organization of superheroes – the best doctors, researchers, scientists, archeologists – all working to find cures, end world hunger, create a better environment. They’re ‘saving the world, one person at a time.’” I add that last part, recalling AIDA’s popular slogan I’ve heard hundreds of times, but I say it with a bit of a bite to it. “I should know. My parents are two of those heroes. They joined the AIDA Corps when they were in college. They’ve been working for AIDA ever since.”
“I know. That’s why I chose them.” When I look at Porter like he’s crazy for what feels like the millionth time, he says, “Give me ten minutes. If I haven’t answered all your questions by then, you can go. And you’ll never see me again in this lifetime. I promise.”
CHAPTER 7
ANSWERS. SORT OF.
Porter folds and unfolds his hands on the table. His forearms are covered in freckles and thick white hair. He rubs the pinky knuckle of one hand with the thumb of his other.
I take a sip of my cappuccino, but it’s gone cold.
It tastes just as disgusting as I remember.
Porter takes a deep breath, then begins. “AIDA was founded in the Sixties. Do you know who the founders were?”
I think back to my recent meeting with Dr Farrow, to the portrait of Durham Gesh hanging on her office wall, with those eyes, condescending and cold. I pull my sleeves down over my wrists again. “I thought there was only one founder. Durham Gesh. His portrait’s everywhere at AIDA Headquarters. I’ve seen it a hundred times. He’s famous. Everyone loves him. They talk about him like he’s a saint. Supposedly he saved thousands of lives or something back in the day.”
“That’s right,” Porter says. “Durham Gesh was one of the founders. Some would say he is the only founder. He was the face of the Institute. He did all the socializing and networking and schmoozing. But there were two founders of AIDA. Two very brilliant, very ambitious scientists. One was Gesh, the other was Iver Flemming.”
“Never heard of him.”
“That’s not surprising. He was a quiet man who kept to himself, content to work in the background and stay out of the spotlight. Very few people know of his involvement with AIDA. He was always like that, even when Gesh met him at a private primary school in Denmark. Gesh was the charismatic, outgoing one, while Flemming was the studious one holed up in his dormitory with his nose in a book. But they had similar interests, similar IQs, so they became friends and remained friends all throughout medical school. Shortly after they graduated, they founded an organization devoted to the cure of cancer and other terminal illnesses. They were visionaries. Luminaries. Throughout the next twenty years, they cured countless diseases, even a few cancers, which attracted the attention of the media and philanthropists. People came from all around to be treated at AIDA. Everyone believed they were geniuses. There was no other explanation for their success rate. And they were geniuses. But there was more to it than that. They had an upper hand. A secret weapon no one else knew about. They could travel back in time.”
“You mean they had visions? Like me?” I push my glasses up my nose and lean forward. I rest my elbows on the table.
“No, no visions. Only you have those. But they could descend to any time period they wished, just like you can. They used their ability to their ultimate advantage. They could go back and save invaluable research that had been lost or destroyed. They could talk to other scientists and medicine men and gain their ancient knowledge. They could move floppy disks, documents, even ancient scrolls to secret locations, then come back to retrieve them when they returned to the present time. Sort of like a time capsule. They gained knowledge no other scientist or doctor had access to, and they healed thousands by forging new roads in medicine. Can you see how that ability could be used to save the world?”