After leaving Sarah's office, Reid scanned through the documents sprawled over his coffee table. His fingers drummed on the folder marked "VIVI," a clue leading to Diane, who was increasingly resembling a chimerical entity rather than a living, breathing person. Archer sat on the adjacent couch, his face as inscrutable as ever, but his eyes locked onto Reid's in a silent dialogue.
"Diane's companies spell out 'VIVI,' you know. That's either a remarkable coincidence or a bread crumb pointing to Vienne, Vanessa's missing sister," Reid mused, his voice tinged with excitement.
Archer arched an eyebrow, his version of asking Reid to go on.
Reid did a quick scan through Lana, a digital assistant he had co-opted for his personal use—much to Alex's chagrin. Information began to populate on his tablet. "No adoption records, no suspicious aliases. Vienne and Diane even look extremely different. Everything about her is clean, a bit too clean if you ask me."
Reid paused, letting the weight of his suspicion hang in the air. "So what if she's not Vienne, but someone who knew Vienne?"
Archer's eyes narrowed; the room could have frozen over with the chill of his gaze.
"Do families often share Abilities?" Reid asked suddenly, his analytical brain shifting gears.
Archer shrugged, a universal "I don't know" in his limited expressive vocabulary.
"Yeah, I don't recall any elective courses on 'Ability Heredity 101' either," Reid sighed. "Our education on Abilities was a joke; like teaching fish about water but omitting the concept of wetness."
Archer's eyes met Reid's, as if to say: "And what's your point?"
"Abilities," Reid's voice rose with enthusiasm, "can range from common to downright freaky. Most people get the easy stuff—enhanced senses, faster reflexes. Like Nobilm who has enhanced hearing. Just a smidge above the average Joe but not quite in the superhero league."
Archer listened, his face unreadable but alert. He knew where Reid was going with this.
"Passive physical Abilities are the most common followed by active physical Abilities. Your cool party trick of sucking the heat out of things until you get ice. Alex's ability to manipulate sound waves to make him the world's most annoying—or persuasive—man," Reid elaborated, barely able to contain his excitement.
Archer's face remained a mask, but Reid sensed the agreement in his silence.
"And finally, the unicorn of Abilities—the mental ones. Telepathy, foresight, mind control; you name it. These are the ones that scare the bejesus out of governments because they're difficult to track and control," Reid continued, now pacing around the room like a preacher in the throes of revelation.
Archer's eyes followed Reid. It was evident he was processing this information, aligning it with his own understanding and experiences.
"That's why we keep mum about our mental Abilities. Can't have the government finding out and sticking us in their Ability zoo," Archer said.
Reid nodded. No words needed; both men knew the stakes.
"My Ability," Reid continued, "is recorded as a semi-physical in the government books. To them, I have to touch something related to the person or thing they are finding in order to see the 'strings of connection'. A little like a honing missile," Reid chuckled, "yet, in actual fact, it's to see the unseen."
Archer nodded subtly. He knew not to cut in or disturb Reid when he was in this trance — sometimes, he needed to think aloud in order find the connections.
"The 'strings of connection' or as I would say it, 'string of Fate', is basically a connection point between various living and non-living things. It's funny how it works since only strings that are deemed 'important' will appear, according to what I am looking for…
"Yet, none of my family members have a remotely similar Ability," Reid said, pacing around the room, "my parents' Abilities are both physical…
"Your Ability is very different from your family's, just like how mine is different from mine… I don't see a link there and neither have I heard of a link where Abilities can be inherited or similar in families. After all, there could be families where one of them would not receive a Blessing…"
Reid grabbed a notepad and began scribbling. "We need to find out if Abilities can run in families. If Vienne has an Ability similar to Vanessa's, it might be the missing puzzle piece. This could also unravel more about the nature of Abilities, something that the government wouldn't want public."
"But does that prove anything?"
Reid stroked his chin thoughtfully, "if we cannot find any connection between Abilities and hereditary lines, then perhaps our clue ends here. After all, having similar Abilities or different Abilities doesn't have a correlation to blood."
"Hmm," Archer thought out loud.
"Although, if we find out that Diane has a similar Ability to Vienne, perhaps we can prove that they are the same person."
Archer nodded, now fully aligned with Reid's sense of urgency. Reid could practically see the gears turning in Archer's brain, each cog slotting into place.
"Let's hit the library," Reid suggested, throwing on his coat. "With any luck, we'll find some dusty tome or academic paper on the heredity of Abilities. Something tells me that the official curriculum only scratches the surface."
Archer stood, his movements precise, like a predator locking onto a scent. He grabbed his coat, his eyes meeting Reid's in silent agreement.
***
The duo stumbled into a nondescript public library near their residence. Amidst rows of wooden bookshelves, the scent of aging paper and ink fills the air. Overhead lights casted a soft yellow glow. People were scattered around tables or engrossed in books, oblivious to the tension vibrating off Reid and Archer.
Reid and Archer entered the library, their steps softened by the worn carpet that had seen better days. Reid was practically buzzing, like a kid in a candy store—if the candy were leather-bound volumes of knowledge. Archer, however, wore an expression that said he'd rather be anywhere but here.
"Why the long face? Don't tell me you're illiterate," Reid teased.
Archer shot him a look that could freeze magma. "Books bore me," he muttered, almost as if admitting a sin.
Reid chuckled. "Well, not all of us have a built-in Google in our heads."
Archer's icy eyes met Reid's. "I remember things; I don't enjoy them," he replied.
The library morphs into a strategic playground for Reid, the narrow aisles between the shelves turning into corridors of possibilities. For Archer, it's a labyrinth he's been reluctantly dragged into.
"Fine, you be my book fetcher then," Reid proposed, already making a beeline toward the science and history sections. His eyes darted over the book titles like a hawk seeking prey, selecting a few that seemed promising. "Philosophy of Abilities," "Genetic Potentials," "Family Traits in Blessed Bloodlines"—they all sounded like potential goldmines of information.
Archer followed, his eyes rolling almost audibly. He considered himself a man of action, not words. And certainly not words that stayed put on hundreds of pages. As Reid yanked books off the shelves with enthusiastic abandon, Archer felt his internal boredom meter rising.
"Here, take these to that corner table," Reid instructed, handing Archer an armful of heavy tomes.
Archer looked as though he'd been handed a sack of rotten fish but complied, taking the stack of books to a secluded table near the back of the library.
A quiet corner of the library, shielded from prying eyes by tall shelves on two sides. A perfect spot for confidential discussion and deep research, but also a place where tension thrives.
Reid flopped down into a chair and started flipping through the first book. Every few seconds, his fingers would fly across his tablet, taking notes. Archer sat down away from him, his eyes meeting Reid's for just a moment before they returned to surveying the library with boredom in his eyes. It was not that Archer did not want to sit with Reid… but the table and the chairs around Reid were completely filled with stacks of books.
"You know, if we had access to the police library, we'd be in and out in a flash," Reid commented without looking up. "But nope, it's in a government building that we can't access."
Archer looked amused—or at least, as close to amused as he ever got. "Government building," he said, making air quotes.
"Ugh. Don't remind me. They guard that place like it's Fort Knox. Alex said he'd need to get approvals, and God knows how long that could take."
Archer met Reid's gaze and lifted an eyebrow — 'would we still be going to the police library?'
"If we can even get the access… Well, whatever the government wants the public to believe about Abilities will be in these public archives as well," Reid said, finally finding a passage of interest in the book he was scanning. "So if there's a narrative they're trying to control, chances are, we'll find traces of it here."
Archer leaned back — 'but would there be any research on family history of Abilities here then?'
Reid shrugged before answering Archer's question that he had threw over with just a look, "that's why I am not reading the books written by or sponsored by the government."
"Ah, that's why many of the books you took does not even seem to be related to Abilities!"
Reid smiled before waving Archer off and dug his nose into the next book.
Time takes on a different quality, stretching and condensing as Reid got lost in the mountain of books. The library corner becomes a silent cocoon, insulating them from the outside world but also closing them in with their unresolved questions. On the other hand, Archer was swiping through his phone and communicator, working through the tons of emails that he had been neglecting ever since the start of this case. Many of these emails came from Averyl though.
Minutes rolled into hours. The familiar and consistent sound of books flipping had stopped. It took a few minutes before Archer released that Reid was no longer flipping the pages. Looking up from his devices, Archer saw the figure slumped over a book and Archer sighed.
Reid had fallen asleep. Honestly, Archer had expected the man to fall asleep a few hours back. Looking at his communicator again, he realised that they had been in the library for almost 10 hours and it was eleven in the evening! Reid must have definitely overworked his brain. Giving the man a wry smile, Archer made a mental note of the books that had not been read and placed the rest back to the respective places on the shelf.
Thankfully, the library operates all-day which was also another reason they decided to come here. Even though it was late, Archer spotted a few students around studying. He shook his head a little thinking about how stressed they must be if they would study till so late at night.
Then, Archer went back to Reid, the book he had been reading was opened and Archer thought for a moment if he should help Reid finish it up till he glanced through the page briefly.
His eyes lit up and he threw a surprised look to the sleeping figure. Of course! Reid did not fall asleep because he was tired and burnt out; he fell asleep because he had found what he wanted to find.
The page wrote: The Nightshade family, Flamehigh family, and the Rogue family are the most prominent names echoing through the history of the Lost Era. Intriguingly, these families were known to recruit Ability-users with Abilities akin to their own—fueling theories that their power could, in fact, be a matter of bloodline. While the dawn of the New Era witnessed the near-total eradication of these families, there have been persistent reports of contemporary Ability-users asserting ancestral links to these distinguished lines. What lends credence to these claims is that their Abilities closely mirror those documented in guarded ancient texts associated with these families.
Archer's lips curled upwards a little before shutting the book and arranging it back to where it belonged. When he went back to Reid, the genius psychologist was still sleeping. With a smirk, Archer hoisted the man onto his shoulder and fireman-carried him out of the library, not leaving him any dignity.