Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
None of that was surprising. As long as there had been individuals with powers, there’d been people who studied them. That was true across all sorts of disciplines, from medicine and genetics to psychology and sociology, and everything in between.
On the surface, it seemed perfectly innocent. If all they were doing was gaining general knowledge, no problem. But was there a bigger picture here, something I was missing?
At one point, I read a line in a report which mentioned SPAM actively recruited people with powers and employed them throughout the agency. I was mulling that over when Anderson appeared in the aisle and asked, “What are you doing?”
He’d caught me red-handed, sitting on the floor with an open report on my lap. “This information’s not off-limits,” I pointed out. “I have the security clearance to read it.”
“I know that, but you’re supposed to be organizing the shelves, not reading on the job.”
“I’m sorry. I got distracted. I dropped this report, and it fell open. When I went to pick it up, I read something that got me thinking.” The part about dropping it was a lie, but the rest was true.
Anderson’s gaze strayed to the report on my lap, and curiosity won out over lecturing me for goofing off. “What did you read?”
“That SPAM actively recruits people with powers.”
“Well, yeah. They work with superheroes. It’s right there in their mission statement.”
“No, I mean they recruit people with all sorts of powers, not just superheroes. Then they put them in regular jobs throughout the agency.”
“They do?”
I nodded and asked him, “Do you have any powers?”
He looked embarrassed. “Yes, but it’s just something useless.”
“And did they actively recruit you to come work for them?”
“They did, but that could just be a coincidence. My power is totally unrelated to the job they hired me to do.”
“Right, but like, now you work for them. So, if at any point they need someone who can do whatever it is you do, they know right where to find you.”
“What are you getting at?”
“What if you and I were both hired under false pretenses?”
He thought about that before asking, “What are your powers?”
“I don’t have any.”
He frowned and straightened his posture. “So, they probably didn’t have a hidden agenda when they hired you.”
“But my mom was a very powerful superhero, so it’s possible that I have dormant powers. Since they recruited me, maybe they’re hoping those powers activate at some point.”
“That seems like a stretch.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I got to my feet and reshelved the report. “Anyway, sorry again for wasting time.”
I turned to him, and we both studied each other for a long moment. Anderson was maybe five-eight to my six-foot-two, and I knew my size could be intimidating. But more than anything, there was curiosity in his eyes.
My gaze dropped to his mouth when he licked his lips. That seemed to fluster him, somehow. He stepped back and broke eye contact as he mumbled, “I, um, I came to tell you I’m planning to take a lunch break. I want to lock the archives while we’re gone, so if you want, I’ll walk you out.”
“Sounds good.”
We didn’t say anything as we made our way past the rows of shelves. But then, as he locked the double doors behind us, I asked, “Do you ever get curious about what’s in all those reports?”
“Of course.”
“Have you read any of them?”
“No. There’s too much work to do.”
“What if I wanted to do some reading?”
“You can do that when you’re off the clock, so either come in early or stay late. I’m here every weekday from about seven a.m. until around nine p.m. If you coordinate with me, I can let you in and lock up behind you.”
“And it’s okay to read whatever I want?”
“Sure. Nothing in there is off-limits with your security clearance. Just please don’t read when you’re supposed to be working.”
“I won’t. Thanks for not getting mad about that, by the way.”
“Actually, I can empathize,” he said. “During my first week on the job at my university’s library, my supervisor caught me goofing off three times. I kept seeing books that caught my interest, and I’d automatically flip them open and start reading. It was hard to train myself out of that habit.” That wasn’t the same thing since I was on a fact-finding mission, but I appreciated the fact that he was trying to find some common ground.
We rode the elevator to the main floor, and on our way to the employee exit, I asked, “Do you think there are other archives somewhere in this building?”
“Why would there be?”
“Because I doubt SPAM would make all its research available to anyone with mid-level clearance.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t heard about any other archives, but all I care about are the contents of that basement.”
I glanced at his profile. “Really? You wouldn’t be curious to know what secrets your employer might be hiding?”