Spirit Story - Chapter 5
Spirit Story - Chapter 5
Claire waited until they were outside to explode. “What the hell was that?”
Mara kept walking. “A palm reading.”
“Do not do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you pretend something completely insane was normal.”
“I don’t think it was normal. I think it was a paid service conducted in a retail establishment.”
Claire hurried to catch up. “She said one of your spirit guides is missing.”
“She said I have spirit guides. Let’s establish the larger problem first.”
“Mara.”
“Claire.”
They reached the corner. Claire stopped. Mara took another two steps before realizing she was alone. She turned. Claire was staring at her.
“What?”
“You felt something in there.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I was interested.”
Claire pointed at her. “Exactly.”
“Interest is not belief.”
“I didn’t say belief.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to say you got that little line between your eyebrows.” Mara touched the space between her eyebrows before she could stop herself.
Claire’s eyes widened triumphantly. “Oh, that is adorable.”
“Get in the car.”
“You do have a tell.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
Mara unlocked the doors.
Claire climbed into the passenger seat. “I still think we should have asked more questions.”
“We asked thirty minutes’ worth.”
“Twenty-seven.”
Mara looked at her. “What?”
“I checked the time.”
“Of course you did.”
Claire fastened her seat belt. “Don’t you want to know what happened to the third one?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I was starting the car.”
“You hesitated while starting the car.”
Mara pulled away from the curb. “I want to know what Daniel found.”
Claire groaned. “Your mysterious laboratory number.”
“An actual number.”
“Forty-one is an actual number.”
“Not in the context Evelyn used it.”
“Yet.”
Mara shot her a look.
“Don’t.”
Claire smiled. “It will.”
“I liked you better ten years ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Mara couldn’t argue with that. Her phone was mounted on the dashboard, navigation already directing her back toward the laboratory. She had been away longer than she intended.
3:47.
Daniel had not sent another message. That bothered her considerably more than Evelyn’s invisible missing person. They had gone three blocks when the navigation map flashed.
ROUTE UPDATED
Mara glanced at it.
“Accident ahead,” Claire said, reading the screen. “Eleven-minute delay.”
“I see it.”
The route shifted. Mara followed the next turn.
“Take the next right,” Claire read unnecessarily.
“I have GPS.”
“I am assisting.”
“You are narrating.”
“Some people appreciate support.”
“Some people appreciate silence.”
Claire leaned back. “Fine.”
Thirty seconds passed. “Turn left.”
Mara looked at her.
“Sorry.”
They turned. The road narrowed as the navigation sent them away from the heavier afternoon traffic. Mara was thinking about the laboratory.
Control passed.
Rerun agreed.
Daniel checking one more thing.
If the original result held, then the problem was unlikely to be random analytical error. That left sample preparation, matrix interference, instrument—
Claire made a sound. Mara looked over.
Claire was staring at the road sign ahead. “No.”
Mara followed her gaze. A white highway marker stood at the intersection.
41
Mara closed her eyes briefly. “Oh, for God’s sake.”
Claire slapped both hands against the dashboard. “FORTY-ONE!”
“Yes, Claire. I can read.”
“Highway forty-one!”
“I see it.”
“The GPS put us on forty-one.”
“The GPS rerouted us around an accident.”
“Onto forty-one.”
“Because it is a road.”
Claire turned toward her. “You have to admit that’s weird.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Mara.”
“This is exactly what I told you would happen.”
“What?”
“Attentional bias.”
“Oh, come on.”
“If Evelyn had said thirty-seven, I would notice thirty-seven. If she’d said twelve, I would notice twelve. She gave us forty-one less than an hour ago, so forty-one is salient.”
Claire stared at her. “The universe could drop a piano with the number forty-one painted on it directly in front of your car and you’d blame cognitive bias.”
“I’d blame whoever failed to secure the piano.”
Claire collapsed against the seat laughing.
Mara shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m texting Evelyn.”
“You are absolutely not texting Evelyn.”
“I have her card.”
“Of course you have her card.”
“I took one.”
“Do not tell her.”
“Why?”
“Because nothing happened.”
Claire held up both hands. “Fine.”
Mara continued down Highway 41. She refused to look at the road signs again.
⸻
Daniel was still in the laboratory when Mara returned. He looked at the clock, then at her. “Four twenty-six.”
“There was an accident.”
“Did you cause it?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t see how that explains thirty extra minutes.”
“Traffic was rerouted.”
“Ah.”
He studied her.
“What?”
“How was Claire?”
“Good.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“The adventure.”
Mara stopped. “How do you know about the adventure?”
“Claire texted me.”
Mara stared at him.
Daniel held the expression for three seconds before laughing. “Your face.”
“I hate you.”
“You’ve said that twice today.”
“She took me to a palm reader.”
Daniel’s smile disappeared, then returned much larger.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, this is magnificent.”
“It was not magnificent.”
“Did she tell you your future?”
“No.”
“Past life?”
“No.”
“Secret inheritance?”
“No.”
“She definitely told you you’re going on a journey.”
“Apparently I have two spirit guides.”
Daniel stared. Mara put her bag down.
“And a third one is missing.”
Daniel slowly removed his glasses. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Can we please discuss the sample?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, we cannot skip over a missing spirit guide.”
“We can.”
“Mara.”
“The sample.”
Daniel stared at her for another moment, then he put his glasses back on. “This conversation is postponed.”
“Permanently.”
“Unlikely.”
He handed her the worksheet. The humor left her almost immediately. “What did you find?”
“Nothing.”
Mara looked up. “Nothing?”
“Nothing useful.”
She took the sheet. The rerun values were there.
Close.
Too close.
She checked the control.
Passed.
Calibration verification.
Passed.
Daniel had checked the reagent preparation, instrument maintenance record, pipettes, temperatures, and sample sequence.
“You reran the standard?”
“Twice.”
“Fresh preparation?”
“Yes.”
“Different vial?”
“Yes.”
“Different aliquot?”
“Yes.”
“Second control lot?”
“Passed.”
Mara frowned.
“Carryover?”
“Checked.”
“Contamination?”
“Nothing obvious.”
“Instrument?”
“Diagnostics are clean.”
She read through the pages again. This was better. The laboratory settled around her like something familiar placed over her shoulders. Here were numbers. Here were procedures. Here were questions with edges.
Mara pulled on gloves. “What are you doing?”
“Running it again.”
Daniel sighed. “I knew you were going to say that.”
“You could go home.”
“And miss this?”
“You have a life.”
“So do you, allegedly. Yours has ghosts now.”
“Guides.”
Daniel froze. Mara froze too.
His smile spread slowly. “Oh.”
“Don’t.”
“You corrected me.”
“Evelyn corrected me. I’m maintaining terminology.”
“Of course.”
Mara turned away. “Go home, Daniel.”
“Not a chance.”
She prepared the sample again.
Fresh aliquot.
Fresh vial.
New pipette tip.
Every motion restored order.
She entered the identification number.
Ran the sample.
Waited.
The result appeared.
Mara stared.
Daniel leaned over her shoulder. “Same.”
“Within expected variation.”
“So the number is real.”
“The measurement is reproducible.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No. Those are different statements.”
Daniel pulled over a stool. “What are we missing?”
Mara looked at the sequence. Something. There had to be something. She reviewed every sample in the batch. One through twelve. Controls interspersed. Standards correct. No drift. No obvious contamination. The anomaly belonged to the sample.
Except she didn’t trust that conclusion yet. She began going backward.
Collection.
Receipt.
Storage.
Preparation.
Instrument.
Calculation.
Reporting.
Every step documented. Every transfer accounted for. Nothing simply appeared. Nothing simply disappeared.
She checked again. An hour passed. Daniel eventually left to retrieve something from the vending machine. Mara barely noticed.
She ran another control.
Passed.
She checked the sample history again.
Nothing.
By the time Daniel returned with pretzels and a soda, Mara had developed the particular stillness he knew meant she was angry.
“Eat.”
“No.”
He put the pretzels beside her anyway. “Any revelation?”
“No.”
“Maybe ask your guides.”
Mara looked at him.
Daniel held up a hand. “Too soon.”
She turned back to the screen. Twelve samples. One anomaly. She had already repeated the anomalous sample. What she needed was comparison, not another repeat... a neighboring sample. Same general matrix. Similar handling. Same run conditions.
She scanned the list. Sample 38.
Her eyes stopped. She knew what came next before she saw it. Mara stared at the screen.
Daniel was opening his soda.
“No.”
He stopped. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Mara.”
She rubbed both hands over her face. This was ridiculous. She clicked on Sample 41.
“What are you doing?”
“Selecting a comparison.”
“Why that one?”
“No reason.”
Daniel looked at the screen, then at her, then back at the screen. “Forty-one?”
Mara slowly turned her head. “How do you know?”
“You told me.”
“I did not.”
“You said the palm reader gave you a number.”
“I did not tell you the number.”
Daniel’s eyebrows rose.
Mara looked back at the screen. She could feel him waiting. “Don’t.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Continue.”
“Continue what?”
“Not saying anything.”
Daniel pressed his lips together.
Mara retrieved Sample 41. There was no scientific reason not to use it. That was important. It was a valid comparison sample. Similar matrix. Same storage conditions. Same preparation sequence. Running it proved nothing about Evelyn.
Nothing about Highway 41. Nothing about anything except the sample in her hand.
Mara prepared it. Loaded it. Entered the identification. Pressed RUN.
Daniel ate pretzels very quietly. The instrument began its cycle.
Mara watched the screen. “This is stupid,” she said.
Daniel chewed. “I agree.”
She looked at him. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”
“I rarely let that stop me.”
The result appeared. Mara stopped breathing. Daniel stopped chewing. For several seconds neither spoke. Then Daniel put the pretzel in his hand back into the bag.
“Well.”
Mara leaned closer to the screen. “No.”
She checked the identification. Sample 41. Correct. She checked the result again.
Then the previous result. Then the anomalous sample. The relationship was there, a pattern that should not have been there.
Mara’s pulse quickened. Daniel moved beside her. “What are the odds?”
“Don’t.”
“I’m asking scientifically.”
“I know.”
She pulled up the original sequence. Checked the values, then checked them again.
Something about Sample 41 changed the problem. Not solved it. Changed it. The anomaly wasn’t isolated. It had a partner.
Mara sat very still, a woman with pale eyes. Dirt beneath her fingernails. A silver object at her waist. A man smelling of cedar and smoke. A damaged hand. Something wrapped in cloth. Forty-one. Highway 41. And now this.
Mara closed her eyes. “No.”
Daniel was quiet.
When she opened them, the number was still on the screen. She knew exactly what was happening. Evelyn had given the number significance. Claire had reinforced it.
The highway had reinforced it again. Mara herself had chosen Sample 41 because the number was already occupying space in her mind. There was nothing supernatural about that sequence.
Nothing.
Except the result.
Mara reached for a fresh pair of gloves.
Daniel watched her. “What now?”
Mara pulled them on. “We run it again.”
Daniel nodded. “Sample forty-one?”
“No.” She looked at the screen. “Everything.” Because if there was a pattern, she would find it and if there wasn’t, she would prove that too.
Either way, Mara Ellison had no intention of letting a palm reader choose the answer.
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