He was strong, for his size, but it was heavy. He let it drag behind him. The noise of it, the scraping, gravely, high pitched whine brought people to doors and widows. Once they saw who it was they shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders in dismissal. Weird Robbie, they thought. Crazy but harmless. They went back to their lives thoughts of Robbie fading as quickly as the sound passed them by.
I saw Robbie on the bridge struggling to pull a sheet of metal up the incline. That’s odd even for Robbie. “Hey,” I called out jogging up to him. Even though it was just a few feet the heat caused sweat to break out on my forehead and trickle down my back from the exertion.
“What ya up to, Robbie?”
He looked at me and through me for a second before his eyes seemed to process my form. With obvious effort he formed words, “I got to get this over the stairs.” He pointed to where the bridge split into the stairs for a pedestrian overlook of the river.
For maybe a whole five seconds I thought about asking why. Then I put my back into it and helped Robbie move the sheet of metal over the short set of stairs. Everybody knew Robbie was crazy, but only a few of us knew why. Robbie was a seer. People knew about the flash seers. They were rare and hired by rulers. Flash seers saw the big things, the confluence of the things that Destiny demanded happen. The big picture, if you will.
They were damned useless, if you asked me. Okay, they were good to have to prepare a king or empress for the events to come but what flash seers told always came to pass. That was the reason that they could never tell you how it was going to happen. One of the problems was that the events could not be based in the actions of individuals. Since the Bargain that gave man free will Destiny could not control us directly. Apparently the Bargain pissed them right the fuck off, but even they couldn’t defy God. Destiny was probably placated by the fact that most humans never deviate from the path set for them, anyway.
Robbie saw maybe fifteen minutes into the future, but he saw all of the futures. Each one of us has hundreds of choices in each moment of our lives. Do I stop for coffee on the way to work or just drink the leftovers in the pot from yesterday? Do I run to try to catch the 3:07 or just wait for the 3:15? Is today the day I finally work up the courage to talk to the cute receptionist? Robbie saw all the possibilities of every step he took, every choice he made, and all of those of the of the people he came in contact with. Unlike telepaths who could learn to shield seers could only hope to push it all into the background, turn it into white noise. And that’s only if their abilities were recognized while they were young, at the onset. Too many of the possibilities were probabilities. After a while they couldn’t tell the difference between the now and the futures. Trying to live in more than one reality at a time drove them quite mad.
With much tugging and pulling the ramp was in place. Robbie grabbed my hand and pulled me off the bridge. He stood straight and his eyes were clear, “They come.”
I followed his gaze to see a mass of spandex coated helmet wearing bicyclists turn onto the bridge. As one they turned to the pedestrian bridge riding straight for it. The way they were riding if the ramp had not been there they would have crashed straight into the stairs. As was some still crashed, the stairs caused the ramp to be very steep. But most flew up the ramp to the pedestrian overlook and into the river.
The cold, clear water seemed to shock the riders out of whatever fugue state they’d been in but they’d been riding a long time and were having difficulty freeing themselves from the current. Their cries for help galvanized the shocked bystanders into action. In the end there were only a few casualties and no deaths. Without Robbie someone would have died.
I turned to him. “Robbie-”
“He says. He says. He says. He says and I obey.” Robbie’s chant turned into a sing song. Same words different tune. I’d brought Robbie to see a healer once, one who specialized in the mind. She’d said he was too old for her to help him. Even complete isolation would not help him. He would be incapable of caring for himself. Robbie was lost.
Except for the moment right before the riders arrived. He’d stood up, eyes clear. I saw the Robbie that could have been. It was heartbreaking. Leading him to the showers I gave him soap and peppermint oil. His sponsor found us as Robbie was dressing. “They said Robbie is with you?”
“He’s getting dressed. What happened?”
“You know as much as I do,” Syarta replied. Syarta was a functional seer. Her visions were so shallow that they were already happening by the time she finished processing them. People like her were the most common seers and often worked in the protection of their more afflicted brothers and sisters. She’d advised me against taking Robbie to the healer but I’d had to hear the diagnosis myself. I may have only recently discovered it but Robbie was family. “He was watching commercials.” The short predictable story content was easier for him to process. “I was making a cold lunch in the kitchen. And when I turned to put the meat and cheese back into the fridge the front door was wide open and he was gone.”
Robbie and Syarta lived in a monitored section next to the Seer’s Guild. It was common knowledge that the seers worked to help and care for the afflicted but it was not common knowledge why the afflicted were that way. It should not have been so easy for him to slip away. Robbie came out still singing about the man he must obey. “Oh dear.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s been since the accident.”
“Must be the trauma of witnessing such a thing.”
“Maybe, but if not for Robbie it would have been a lot worse.” I told her about the ramp. “Right before the accident it seemed as though Robbie was here. In this time, with me.”
Sympathy leaning to pity softened Syarta’s strong features. “I am not fool enough to think this was mere coincidence, but I think you are asking for pain to view this anything more than a one time event.”
I looked at Robbie who was now softly singing to himself. “You’re right. You’re always right.” I heard the bitterness in my voice and made an effort to focus. “You are a great advocate for my cousin. Thank you.”
Syarta took my hands in hers squeezing once before letting go to lead Robbie back to the home.
Days later.
The manor house was crowded with friends and neighbors. More of a castle it had walls and stores to last a hundred people a hundred days. There was even a fresh water well. The bicycle accident was only one of many events getting larger and weirder. People were drawn here as a haven against what was coming.
I wasn’t worried for Robbie. The Guilds were fortresses designed to hold all the members and their immediate families for up to a year, longer if they rationed. The home was connect underground to the Guild. A century of relative piece did not chase away the paranoia of a millennia of chaos.
The children played in the courtyard, so quiet I knew they were not unaffected by the odd behavior of the adults that cared for them. Most of the adults were spread through the front parlors where the televisions were set to the different news channels. About thirty people so far.
Because it was the South folks arrived with food: casseroles, potato salad, jambalaya, bags of live crawfish, deviled eggs, frozen red fish and catfish. They knew not to bring gumbo. That was my thing. We set out what couldn’t be frozen or stored to be eaten, platters laid out throughout the public areas of the downstairs.
My husband was on the internet ordering more long term supplies. Competition was stiff but he’d managed to find a few places that weren’t sold out or storing for themselves. It was a sign of optimism that people were keeping their prices fair. Since the conglomerates had been taken down personal reputations mattered. No one wanted to be remembered as the company that fleeced its neighbors in a crisis.
Most of my family were on military bases. Though the elders were long retired there was always a place for them and their families. All of my siblings had followed the family tradition of going the martial route. My husband’s family were healers. It was mandatory that those healers not on assignment be at a Guild House during an emergency so that people knew where to find help. In the past the Healing Houses had been a few great spires standing out as beacons against the skyline. In the bad times desperate enemies had taken to bombing them. Now they were smaller and spread throughout the city and countryside.
Most of my family were on military bases. Though the elders were long retired there was always a place for them and their families. All of my siblings had followed the family tradition of going the martial route. My husband’s family were healers. It was mandatory that those healers not on assignment be at a Guild House during an emergency so that people knew where to find help. In the past the Healing Houses had been a few great spires standing out as beacons against the skyline. In the bad times desperate enemies had taken to bombing them. Now they were smaller and spread throughout the city and countryside.
Here things get fuzzy. Neighbors come to me and say they’ve found a pattern of pentagrams pieced together to form something bigger using ley lines. If they are reading it right there is not enough time to contact authorities. The plan is to find the traitor and torture her using a paper voodoo doll. We reach the center to find things are not as expected. The bad guy is a good guy.
Dreams, am I right?