Technocracy: Epiphany, Part 1

“Gah!” barked Saera as she shot upward in bed. Bright white sunlight streamed into her windows. She sweated and she shuddered and she sighed and she…

Felt better. Her silver eyes went wide. She breathed, and though some soreness lingered from the coughing she had done for days, the cough itself was completely gone. Her fever, her chills, her nausea and the urge to vomit—gone. She felt well, and healthy, and a surge of joy ran up her chest at the idea.

But… something else. Her sleep had been strange. Something strange… the dreams she’d had. She barely remembered them now, but they felt strange, even in their fleeting echoes. Strange. That was the word that came to mind the most. She felt strange. She felt healthy, and well, but… not the same. Not the same as before. Something was not as it had been, but she had no idea what. She could not figure it out.

But she was, indeed, well. No longer sick. And this, for the moment, was enough. With strong legs, that did not shake, she bounced out of bed, full of energy and motion. Her pajamas were clammy from all the sweating she had done in them, though her skin itself felt smooth. She walked to her bathroom, the lights coming on automatically as she entered. They always did that. The bathroom was as it had always been. She looked in the mirror, where it had been for years.

She narrowed up her eyes and turned her head just slightly to the side. Something in that stare, that look, felt strange, strange strange, but once again she could not say quite why. Something seemed out of place. She idly fingered her short hair. Something about that seemed different, too. But over and over, it was the same: something felt different but she couldn’t explain what that was. Perhaps, maybe, it was simply the shock of being healthy after so many days and hours sick. She didn’t know. She could not guess. Her senses did not match her instincts. What she saw, and heard, and smelt, and touched, and tasted, all seemed as it had been. But it did not feel the same, in the deeps of her heart.

She blinked into the mirror. Her silver eyes twitched into focus. Still nothing she saw seemed out of place. She crossed her arms over her chest. She drew in a breath. And she

Sighed, and as she did a swirl of sudden, violent air

Came around her, seeming to come out of her own mouth.

Whirling, swirling came the gust, a mighty Autumn breeze.

All around the bathroom it blew everything about.

Towels whipped on their hangers, fluttered like flags in a gale,

Her toothbrush and dental floss were blown off of the sink.

And her hair, her platinum blonde hair, was whipped and swirled,

Showing off a tiny glint of something snowy white.

Saera’s eyes were wide, massive, as she looked around the bathroom. The windy blast had upset the entire room, blowing towels off of their racks, scattering all the makeup and apparati on her sink and her bathroom counter. She had heard it, it had been so powerful: it had whistled in her ears as it had swirled and died down. It had come from absolutely nowhere. There was only one window in her bathroom, and it was firmly shut.

Saera stared with huge eyes into the mirror. Her platinum blonde brows were raised up; something about them seemed strangely different, but she couldn’t say exactly what. Certainly none of it seemed nearly as strange as what had just occurred. “What… what?” she whispered.

A thought suddenly beamed across her mind, like a searchlight blinding her with its glare. Hurrying from the bathroom, she went to her phone and turned it on; she always turned it off at night. Emails, media, news articles flared across the screen. But no text messages. It was a bit early, though not as early as it had been when she’d woken up. So Saera pulled up the group chat with her three friends, and typed in:

>How is everyone feeling today?

Ardo replied first:

>I’m feeling awesome! Totally better! Can’t believe it, I felt like shit last night!

Saera typed in reply:

>I feel totally better as well. I had some strange dreams, but I feel well today, for the first time in ages.

Terry was next to respond:

>I had weird dreams last night, too. And I actually also feel better.

>How about you, Marin?

Marin’s dialogue box flickered a bit, a sign that she was typing, deleting, then typing again, over and over. But at length she responded:

>Same same. Totally better. Had weird dreams last night too.

Ardo said next:

>This is fucked up. I had weird dreams too!

>On top of that, when I was in my bathroom this morning the lights flickered. It was like some kind of power surge.

Marin said next:

>Nothing weird happened to me. I splashed myself this morning brushing my teeth, but NBD.

>Terry, has your morning been normal?

Terry responded.

>Yeah. I mean, I think. I had this weird idea when I woke up that my bed and room shook. But I think it was just the end of the dreams I had.

Saera’s fingers hovered o’er her phone. Something… something… seemed to be in front of her. Her three friends. The four of them. They had all been sick at once. They had all recovered together. They were all better at the same time. They had all had strange dreams. And at least some of them had experienced something strange, like she had in the bathroom.

Too much. Too much. All the same, all four of them. Saera was too smart to avoid taking note of it. And yet it seemed so strange. Not possible. This was… sickness… and everyday life. Not unusual. Not like her stories. Not like the fairy tales she would read. Real life was not like that.

Was it?

“Saera,” the voice made her swivel where she sat on her bed. Aemelia came into her room. “Are you… oh, sweetie, you look so much better!”

“I am, Mama!” said Saera. “I feel a lot better.”

“I’m so glad,” said Aemelia, coming in and hugging her tightly. “I’m so happy. I was scared. I even got frightened that you would die. I’m so glad you’re better.” She smiled down at Saera. “So, since you’re all better, want to go out for breakfast? It’s Saturday, after all.”

“Yes!” Saera grinned. “Yes, I should love that very much.”

Aemelia kissed her on the forehead. “Hurry up and get dressed. Let’s go to the Latin cafe on Cornelius Street.”

And with that Aemelia left her room, and Saera flew to her closet, and, for the day, the thoughts of strangeness left her mind.