He’s halfway to the door, flinging it open by telekinesis, before Gleeson speaks.
GLEESON: “I should have thought you’d jump at the chance to speak to someone who understands you.”
Calix turns, fixes him with a narrowed gaze.
Gleeson uncaps and recaps his pen.
CALIX: “Just because you can read my mind doesn’t mean youunderstandme.”
GLEESON: “Not that. Think about it, Calix. Pyromancy, telekinesis, healing...those powers are all very impressive, yes, but they aren’t like ours. We’re something else. Something not quite human.”
Calix hovers there in the doorway. At last he closes the door and returns, this time sitting on the sofa. His face is impassive, but one gets the sense of something else, movement beneath dark waters.
CALIX: “All right, I’ll bite. When did you learn telepathy?”
GLEESON: “It was my presenting power. I woke up with it after the fever. I was twenty. But you survived the virus quite young—two, yes? This ability is all you can remember. Your view of other people is completely shaped by it...”
Calix says nothing. He sits there, holding Gleeson’s gaze until Gleeson sighs.
GLEESON: “That’s a tangent, of course. My real question is, how long have you been having these nightmares?”
CALIX: “We’re not talking about me.”
GLEESON (laughing): “My boy, of course we’re talking about you. If you want me to answer your questions, you’ll have to answer a few of my own. It’s only fair.”
Silence.
GLEESON (as if in response to something unspoken but overheard): “Yes. But I’d still like to discuss them with you. So, I’ll ask again. How long have you been having the nightmares?”
CALIX (eventually): “Since the hospital.”
GLEESON: “Every night?”
CALIX: “Just about. Wolf got me some sleeping pills, but they don’t help...if you write a word of this down, I’m leaving.”
Gleeson puts down the pen.
GLEESON: “What are the dreams about?”
CALIX: “No, it’s my turn. You made the rules, remember?”
GLEESON: “By all means.”
CALIX: “Have you met any other telepaths?”
Gleeson pauses for several seconds, perhaps considering if he intends to lie.
GLEESON: “Yes. But it was not their presenting power.”
Calix’s strange eyes are too bright now, fixed on Gleeson.
Gleeson shifts in his seat, uncomfortable.
GLEESON: “My turn. What are the dreams about, Calix?”
CALIX: “They’re about what happened to me in the hospitals.” (pause) “They tortured me to inspire new powers. They thought if they put my body under enough stress, it would be forced to defend itself. It worked. I was useful because I was powerful, and the more powerful they made me, the more useful I became. If they could suppress me, they could suppress anyone.”
Calix pauses, then shrugs.
