The Anathema Read Online Free PDF Page B

used a codified system of visualization techniques, perceiving potential futures as a tangle of threads, a pattern of multicolored lights, or even as wholly fictional roadmaps. With one important consistency – precognitives did not actually see the future, but rather various possible futures.
    The main thing Emily had taken from Vivik’s lecture was the knowledge that precognitives couldn’t interact with the world around them in a normal way, tormented by the burden of their abilities. They were bad with people, the inverse of an empath. Vivik claimed that an abnormal percentage of them were subject to autism and schizophrenia. Certainly, it was rare for one to attend the Academy; assuming the rumors about Anastasia Martynova’s protocol were wrong, then Chandi Tuesday was among the few in the student body. The rest, according to the stories she had heard, were kept in isolation, hidden away in old family manors and behavioral institutions, working in seclusion or in ‘pools’ with other precognitives. For all her arrogance, all her self-assurance, Emily was starting to see that Chandi was no exception, that she also didn’t ‘get’ people.
    “What I understand,” Chandi continued haughtily, “is that your relationship with Alexander Warner is nothing more than a friendship. I believe that you overstated your progress in the reports you submitted to the Hegemony, in order to secure your position here at the Academy. Furthermore, it appears that you failed to report the advances of this,” Chandi paused distastefully, “Eerie, or her success relative to your own. It seems entirely possible to me that your misrepresentation has allowed this changeling an opportunity to get close to Warner, when another Hegemony operative might have had more success, had you been forthright enough to inform leadership and step aside. Now, Miss Muir - where am I wrong?”
    Chandi Tuesday was so smug and self-satisfied that she did not even notice the change in Emily’s demeanor when she spoke.
    “Well, Chandi,” Emily said, putting emphasis on her first name, “do you mind if I ask you a question?”
    “I suppose,” Chandi allowed, peering at Emily suspiciously through her comical glasses.
    “Thanks,” Emily said cheerfully, as if they were friends having a chat. “Tell me, have you ever had a boyfriend?”
    “What?” Chandi said, gasping audibly.
    Emily felt a cruel satisfaction. Whatever precognitive abilities Chandi possessed, they clearly had not helped her anticipate the conversation going in this direction. Her confidence grew commensurately; after all, if Emily had blindsided Chandi once, then she could do it again.
    “No offense,” Emily continued casually, twirling a lock of her hair in one hand, “but I’m guessing you’ve never been with a guy, right?”
    Chandi’s hand froze halfway on its way to cover her gaping mouth. Emily scored another point for herself on her mental chalkboard. She had figured that any girl raised in Abu Dhabi would have to be a prude, even if she didn’t wear a headscarf.
    “Well, Chandi, I have,” Emily continued cheerfully. “And believe me, I know when a guy is interested. And Alex is definitely interested. But with that boy, things are never simple.”
    Tuesday’s composure was slipping. If Emily needed any more proof than the way her face had gone pale, she could now make out the faintest indications of a halo over her head, thin and transparent, too faint to read, but unmistakably visible. Emily said a brief mental apology to Alex for the confidence that she was about to break, promising herself that she would make it up to him, and then plunged on ahead.
    “Alex has a history, Chandi, and it’s a bad one. Something happened with his family before he came here, and he took the blame. Now he has trouble trusting anyone, much less an empath that he knows has a stake in recruiting him. Despite all that, I have gotten through to him. We had breakfast together this