’So what exactly happened to me in that toilet?’
Marek still hated that this was a serious question.
The student leaned closer. "Do you think you’re stronger than us?"
Marek turned to him. "That conclusion arrived quickly."
"You can see things we can’t."
"That means I have more information."
"Which makes you stronger."
"Knowing that a car is going to hit you does not make you strong enough to stop the car."
"It helps you move."
Marek considered that. "That is annoyingly reasonable."
The student seemed pleased with himself.
The chemistry researcher crossed her arms. "There is also the fact that you already used your ability deliberately."
"I did not."
"You volunteered."
"That part was deliberate. The rest was not."
"But it worked."
Marek could not argue with that.
The others had reacted instinctively when their Marks changed. So had he. The difference came afterward.
He had been able to examine Elia’s condition. He had established something the interface called a Controlled Environment and separated the damage already inside her body from the condition that continued causing it. He had even known that returning the First Motion would start the bleeding again.
The other Ophiuchus bearers had nothing similar. Maybe that made him stronger. Or maybe he simply had access to something they did not.
Marek was not sure which possibility bothered him more.
The vehicle passed beneath a damaged overpass. Several government trucks had stopped beside a small environmental monitoring station, where technicians were already removing equipment. One of the metal cases beside them was open.
Marek caught the label before the vehicle passed.
MERIDIAN RECOVERY.
He turned, but the station had already disappeared behind them.
"Meridian again," the chemistry researcher said.
"You saw it?"
"Yes."
The maintenance worker sighed. "That name seems to be everywhere now."
Marek faced him. "Where else?"
"You didn’t see the building-management screens?"
"No."
"I was in maintenance when this started. Half the environmental controls came back online by themselves. They displayed Meridian."
The chemistry researcher nodded. Some of the equipment in her department had done the same. Air-quality samplers, chemical exposure monitors, and two environmental analyzers had identified themselves with the same name.
She had not known they were connected to anything called Project Meridian.
Neither had the maintenance worker.
"Our water-quality network had a Meridian protocol buried inside it," he said.
The student frowned. "My dormitory air monitor flashed the name once."
The others turned to him.
He raised both hands. "I thought it was a company."
Marek stopped paying attention to the conversation.
Meridian. Water quality. Environmental monitoring. Sanitation.
Something about those words was familiar.
Not from tonight. But sometime ago.
He had seen the name before. It was very familiar to him.
Marek lowered his eyes as the memory returned. He had been eight years old. His father was sitting at their kitchen table with several documents spread around him.
Tomas Vale rarely brought work home. When he did, Marek usually ignored it because none of it had been interesting to an eight-year-old. Inspection reports. Sensor readings. Water-treatment records. Maps of underground utility lines.
His father worked with government sanitation and environmental monitoring systems. Marek had understood very little about what that actually meant.
There had been a blue folder on the table.
He remembered the folder because he had spilled noodles beside it, and his father had moved the folder before saving anything else. One word had been printed across the front.
MERIDIAN.
Marek had asked what it meant.
His father checked the folder and said, "Work."
"That does not explain anything."
"It explains enough for an eight-year-old."
Marek had complained about that answer. His father just laughed at him.
A few weeks later, Tomas Vale left for an inspection at an underground government facility.
After that, he never came home.
The official report described a structural failure. Several workers had been injured, and Tomas was listed among the missing.
Later, missing became presumed dead.
No body was ever recovered.
Marek raised his head. For eleven years, Meridian had been nothing more than a word he had forgotten.
Now experimental equipment inside the university laboratory was identifying itself as part of Project Meridian. Environmental monitoring stations carried the same name. Government teams already knew how to recover its equipment.
Dr. Elias Mercer had known about the appearance of the Astral Signs before midnight—about the Awakening that shook the entire planet. And his father had worked on something called Meridian before he disappeared.
The chemistry researcher had been watching him. "You know the name."
"What?"
"Meridian."
The others had gone quiet.
Marek took a moment before answering. "My father worked on a government sanitation project."
"Something related to Project Meridian?" the maintenance worker asked.
"I think so."
"You think?"
"I was eight."
That was enough to end the question.
"Project Meridian was written on some of his work documents."
The chemistry researcher hesitated. "Is he still involved?"
"No."
Marek answered faster than he intended. "He disappeared. Presumed dead."
Nobody said anything.
The student lowered his eyes as though he remember something tragic, but Marek continued before anyone could offer sympathy. "He went into an underground facility for an inspection. There was a structural failure. At least, that was what the report said."
The maintenance worker noticed the distinction. "You don’t believe it?"
"I did."
The vehicle continued through the city.
Marek thought about everything that had happened since entering the laboratory.
The diagnostic toilet. The hidden Meridian equipment. The recovery order. The instructions issued before Day 367. Dr. Elias Mercer. And a blue folder sitting on his family’s kitchen table eleven years ago.
"Now I’m reconsidering." He paused. "I’m not certain."
The chemistry researcher left it there. Marek appreciated that. He did not need sympathy. He needed information.
There had been nothing to investigate when he was a child. His father had disappeared inside a government facility, the official investigation had been closed, and eventually there had been nowhere else to ask.
His mother had spent the following years keeping the family moving. Marek had eventually stopped asking questions because every attempt ended in the same place.
There was nothing else available.
Now, there was.
Project Meridian still existed.
Someone had hidden Meridian components inside ordinary environmental and medical equipment. Government personnel knew how to recover them. Elias Mercer had known enough about the Astral Signs to issue control instructions before Day 367 even began.
Marek did not know whether any of that was connected to his father’s disappearance. But for the first time in eleven years, there was something to investigate.
He touched the dark-red scale beneath his collarbone. Until tonight, becoming stronger had not been something Marek had seriously considered. He had been trying to understand what had happened to him. Keep Elia alive. Find Mara and his mother.
Those were already enough problems.
Now, there was another.
If the people who knew about Meridian could classify him, move him wherever they wanted, confiscate evidence, and refuse to answer questions, then knowing something was wrong would not be enough.
He needed to understand his Mark, along with the interface connected to it. And if strength was what determined who could demand answers in this new world, then he needed that too.
Not because he wanted authority over anyone else. He simply did not intend to let someone close his father’s case a second time.
Marek returned his attention to the city outside.
Eleven years ago, Tomas Vale had disappeared while working on something called Meridian.
Tonight, Project Meridian had appeared again.
And someone involved with it had known Day 367 was coming.