A Disease of Magic

We stepped outside and Alex dropped my hand.

“No offense, or anything,” he assured me, “but it is way too hot for that.”

I had to agree. Lights flashed in the distance, illuminating an oncoming thunderstorm. Hopefully a cold front followed.

“What’s your opinion on ice cream?” he asked, as though I might be insane and say I didn’t like it, though it was nice of him to not assume I could eat it; my father was lactose intolerant, but thankfully that didn’t affect me.

We chatted about LaShoul’s as we walked the few blocks towards a parlor Alex frequented often, comparing our symptoms and hypothesizing at our triggers. By the time we reached the shop, we both agreed that we had no clue what, if anything, caused the episodes, but were hopeful that with the bio-screens some answers would start to emerge.

The line for ice cream was probably three times as long as it typically was, but it was well worth the wait as we snagged a recently deserted table by the window, directly under the pink and lime green neon window sign. I’d opted for regular chocolate syrup this time instead of hot fudge, and even without the added heat my strawberry ice cream was melting rapidly.

“So. Topic change onto typical date stuff. Do you want twenty questions? Rapid fire?” Alex teased.

“Rapid fire. Rip the bandage off.”

“Favorite color?”

“Green. Sage.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Best vacation?”

“Never been.”

Alex’s spoon halted its journey. “What do you mean, never been?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs. “I mean, I’ve never been on vacation,” I repeated slowly.

“How?”

“I believe there is this concept called money that one needs to have to actually make it happen.”

“What about when you were a kid?”

I shook my head. “Dad was a single parent for long enough that he couldn’t afford it. The best I got was traveling to my grandparents’ outside of the city for a week each summer. And that stopped when I was twelve.”

Alex hummed in his throat and stared at his ice cream.

“Is it giving you the answers?”

“Hmm?”

“The ice cream. You’re silently interrogating it,” I observed.

“Not this time. I’ll have to try a different tactic. Time for the bad cop.” He dove in with his spoon again, attacking the melting black cherry ice cream.

My head tossed back on a laugh. “You’re a bit ridiculous, aren’t you?”

“Oh, sure,” he managed around a mouthful of ice cream. “But, honestly, where’s the fun in being serious all the time?”

“Life’s too short,” I answered in agreement, without thinking. I only joked around with Leo like that, but I’d gotten caught up in how easy our conversation was and how comfortable I felt that I’d forgotten that I barely knew Alex. I cleared my throat. “So, is it my turn for rapid fire since I stumped you?”

He gestured at me to get started.

“Siblings?”

“No.”

“Guilty pleasure dessert?”

He pointed at his cup with his spoon. “You’re looking at it.”

“Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. I don’t like being awake for the sunrise.”

“If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

Alex paused to think. “You know, that’s a good one. Huh. Well. Let’s see here. Probably the ability to tell when someone is lying to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess because I feel like when people lie, they’re just wasting my time. And, well, as we both know, that’s a bit limited for us.”

I nodded. “I get that.”

“What about you? What superpower would you want?”

“Teleportation.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “You had that one ready.”

“There’s a lot more outside this city. I’d like to see more of the world. Experience things, but still be able to sleep in my own bed at night and not have to worry about packing and weight limits and all that. And, again, the time it takes to travel is not appealing. At least, to the other side of the world.”

“Would you want to be able to take someone with you with your superpower?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to travel alone. I wouldn’t know what I’m doing, or where I should go. I’m not exactly the most confident person around, even on my home turf.”

“Fair. Well, when you get your superpower, you’ll have to hit me up. I’ve been a few places.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

He waved a hand. “All over. My mom travelled for work a lot when I was little, and when my dad couldn’t, or wouldn’t, take me that week, I’d go with her.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It was actually really boring. I usually had to stay inside whatever hotel we were at. I was lucky if there was a pool. But I spent a lot of time looking out the window and observing people.”

“Well, then, it’s settled. When I get my superpower, I’ll definitely let you tag along.”

He smiled at me, revealing dimples, and ate another mouthful of ice cream.

“So, what is it exactly that you do for work again? You mentioned tech,” I prompted.

Alex swallowed, then answered, “So, I work for one of the big-name science labs. Specifically, I deal with their tech; making sure it’s working, troubleshooting problems, completing some repairs if I’m able to, that sort of thing.”

“The machines that help run the test?”

“Exactly. And I suppose in a way I am helping to make a difference. Because these test might actually find some answers that will help people, you know? But I’m not the one doing the actual research or improving someone’s life with it.”

“But you’re giving the scientists the opportunity to do that,” I pointed out. “Without you, it wouldn’t be possible.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his bowl, poking at it. “But it takes a lot of people to run everything. I can easily be replaced by the next person. A scientist? Their brain is what does a lot of that work, analyzing things, deciding where to go from there, and I just can’t do that. They’re not replaceable. And I’m not the one who designed the machines or tech; I just service them. A number of other people could do my job. Fuck, even some of the scientists fix the machines when I’m not there if it’s quick enough.”

“You want to be more relied on,” I gathered. “Missed when you’re not there.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, this is not what I meant to talk about with you.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. The left one landed in a slightly sticky spot. “No, but sometimes things like this need to be talked about anyways. And out of the majority of the world, you and I happen to have a lot in common.”

“So I haven’t blown this date?”

I laughed. “No, you haven’t. I think it’s important to be able to have serious conversations with people. It’s exhausting having to do small talk all the time. That’s all I seem to do, honestly. That, and offer compliments to people who don’t need them. This is a breath of fresh air. Even my roommate doesn’t talk about this kind of stuff with me.”

Alex scooped the last of his ice cream up and turned around to throw out his bowl. Mine was still about a third full.

“Enough about my job woes. Tell me yours.”

“Not much to tell. I work retail.”

“What kind of retail?”

“Jewelry and accessories. It’s pretty boring. All these rich people with money coming in, expecting to be treated like royalty.” I snorted a laugh. “But if they were royalty or anyone with actual money, they wouldn’t be shopping there anyways. Though there are always a few who are kind and…normal. But the job pays the bills well enough.”

“If you’re interested…” he began slowly. “I could probably get you a job with me. I mean, not with me, but at the company. There’s lots of different types of jobs, depending on what you’re interested in. Or, I know they’re starting some studies soon for LaShoul’s. Not clinical trials for anything, but trying to gather more information from people. They’re paid, the studies, when they do them. I know I’m signing up.”

“I’d definitely consider it. Especially the study.”

“I’ll keep you updated when I hear anything, then.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I hate to end this, but…”

“But it’s getting late,” I finished, scooping the last of the melted ice cream up before tossing my trash. A quick glance at my phone told me the shop was soon to close anyways. A rumble of thunder rolled overhead, the storm quickly approaching. “I need to catch the subway back, anyways. I’d rather not get stuck in the rain, as nice as it might feel. Wet feet and shoes are not a good combination.”

“Let me know when you make it back safe,” he instructed, holding the door to the parlor open for me. “If we both survive the night, maybe we’ll plan another date.”

I stepped outside and turned to him as he let the door fall shut. “I’d like that.” And in the spirit of being spontaneous, I stepped forward, rose on my tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. He flushed, presumably a bit nervous and hopefully not embarrassed or grossed out, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thanks, Alex. I’ll see you.”

“Bye, Callie.”

The air was suffocatingly stale waiting for the train, the lack of airflow making me consider spending my emergency fund on a rideshare home. Sweat dripped down my back and soaked the underside of my bra. I could only imagine how drenched I looked. I leaned against a grimy wall, uncaring about getting dirty because I was going to take an ice bath when I got back home and scrub my skin raw.

That was the problem with these older cities. The infrastructure didn’t lend itself well to modern upgrades without areas needing to be torn out completely. And with the subway covering much of the city, there wasn’t much of an option unless maglev trains were built above ground instead.

I had missed my train by a measly two minutes and the next one didn’t come for another twelve or thirteen. At least I wasn’t the only one smelling ripe; hopefully the AC on the trains themselves would be enough to cool me down so I didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor.

Two minutes later, and I felt the telltale signs of a headache approaching. I could feel my pulse in my ears, hear the blood whooshing through my veins, and almost caved right then and there. The air pressure changes from the storm probably weren’t helping anything. But another ten minutes, and I’d be in the cool train. Another fifteen or so after that, and I’d be getting off only a couple blocks away from home.

I could do that.

Glancing down at my phone again to check the time, I groaned when I saw the battery hovering at a measly two percent. And as I watched, it dropped down to one.

Shit. I locked the screen and tucked it away. Being stranded without my phone charged was a big faux pas in the LaShoul’s world, in case of emergencies. It was also something that Leo and I had promised each other, to make sure we could always get in contact whenever needed. I’d texted him earlier to let him know I’d be home later than planned and would be quiet when I got back in case he went to sleep. He worked opposite days from me, and had to be up with the sun tomorrow.

Another three minutes, and the pulsing in my head turned into a throbbing. My brain felt squeezed, like a belt was wrapped around it.

This wasn’t going to be just a headache.

I checked my phone again. Seven more minutes to go. Unless I took a different train and transferred, at least to get out of this heat and maybe slow the decline of my body, but that relied on the trains both being relatively on time, and I wasn’t sure if I could risk that.

A wave of vertigo crashed over me just as my bio-screen alerted to something, or probably several somethings. I tumbled sideways, smacking into the corner but managing to stay upright. Clearly, I wasn’t going to check my bio-screen at that exact moment. My technological illiteracy was bad enough when I could see and walk straight. I needed out of this hellhole, fast. If my usual symptoms were to follow, I’d begin overheating soon enough. My record was a fever that bordered on going-to-the-emergency-room-or-suffer-brain-damage high. I didn’t want to beat that record today.

I pushed off the wall and stumbled back towards the stairs, trying to navigate to the right app on my phone to request a rideshare. The car would have a charger for my phone I could use, right? That thought kept me going, and I managed to haul myself up the flight and a half, my head throbbing so bad it was difficult to see the screen. But the blessedly cool air that the thunderstorm brought was a relief and eased a bit of the pain. Had the temperature set off an episode? That definitely needed to be investigated later.

Taking deep breaths, I sagged against the warm metal fence at the entrance to the subway and slunk to the ground. The street was mostly deserted this late on a weekday, but a few people still meandered down the road, cars zipping by on the street as fast as they could manage. Once clarity returned to my vision and the oncoming headlights stopped looking like stars, I tried to pull up the app to get a rideshare.

The screen stayed dark.

Fuck.

Did I go back down in the subway and ask someone to borrow their phone to call Leo? Should I shout at one of the people down the street? A passing rideshare wouldn’t let me in without a guarantee of pay through my phone, and I doubted one would let me sit in their car while it charged. Leo was my only option, and that was if I could remember his number and borrow someone else’s phone. I probably looked like a drug addict, unable to stand upright. I wouldn’t let me borrow a phone either.

I squeezed my phone in my clammy and shaking hand, willing there to be enough charge to call Leo, or an ambulance, or maybe even Alex. I’d been a fool, an absolute idiot, forgetting to bring my medication with me. I had realized halfway to the meeting I’d left it at home but thought I’d be fine. And I would have been, if I hadn’t decided to be spontaneous and go on a date with Alex. The delay in getting my meds in my system would only make this worse in the long run, and that was if I could even get home to them. If some unlucky individual found me passed out first, it would be a week or two in a hospital.

Come on, come ON. Think, I willed myself. Do NOT pass out here.

Though I knew it was only a matter of time before it would happen. I’d gone too long without meds.

I tried my phone again.

Nothing.

The tears began falling then, hot and fast.

“No, no, no,” I chanted, voice tight and rising in panic as I shook my phone and held the power button like I could force it to turn on just through my will alone. “You are not dead. Come. On.”

A match suddenly ignited against my palm, and I dropped my phone in pain as the screen finally lit. A flurry of violet-white sparks appeared in my peripheral, dancing into nothingness.

Snatching up my phone, I flipped it over. The screen lit.

One percent.

It was enough. I quickly navigated to my contacts and had nearly dialed Leo when I realized it.

The headache was gone. My vision was clear, hands no longer shaking. The alert on my bio-screen had stopped, though the notification still blinked a dull red at me. I angled my arm and flicked through the stats, eyes widening as even I realized how bad they had gotten.

Blood Pressure 153 / 100

Pulse 182

Atrial Fibrillation Detected

Oxygen 88 %

Cortisol 37 mcg/dL

Temperature 102.4 F / 39.1 C

Plasma Osmolality 177 mOsm/kg

I pulled in a breath and further assessed. Besides my hand, which felt burnt, I physically felt…fine. How I was mentally was another story, but I would deal with that later.

I glanced down at my left palm, searching. No red burn mark, but…there. What looked like a pinprick of angry red skin, tight and shining, clearly swollen.

“What the hell?” I twisted my hand under the streetlight, trying to get a better look. With my other index finger, I poked at the inflamed skin and immediately regretted that decision. Pain lanced through my hand, radiating up to my wrist and down my fingers.

A wisp of a breeze and the sound of screeching brakes floated up from the subway, announcing the arrival of my train. I contemplated for half a second before bolting back down the stairs to catch my ride home.