Tekgrrl by A. J. Menden

me or natural teenage hormones—it was decided by everyone that I needed a change of scenery. This led to my attending college at the ripe old age of thirteen, followed by graduate school at seventeen, making service trips to help third-world countries with my professors during breaks. I’d subsequently joined the Elite Hands of Justice and trained with the Reincarnist, so there just hadn’t been much opportunity to go home. Not that I was ever invited.
    The elevator doors dinged open, interrupting my thoughts, and a woman strode out purposefully.
    “Miss Clark?” the woman asked, and I nodded in affirmation. “Great, if you’ll just follow me, your mother has a window of ten minutes in which to see you.”
    “Nice of her to make time,” I responded.
    “Yes, she had to rearrange a few things,” the secretary agreed, obviously not getting my sarcasm as she led me through a silent corridor and a set of double doors. She handled several security clearances while I waited silently.
    We finally entered a large lab where a woman with graying brown hair and wearing a plain black suit and white lab coat was having an earnest conversation with a man similarly dressed. She looked up as we approached, pushed her wide glasses up on the bridge of her nose.
    “Yes?” she asked, as if she had no clue who I was or why I was there. Although how she could not recognize me I didn’t know; I was her mirror image, give or take a few decades and wearing more stylish clothes.
    I stepped forward. “Hi, Mom. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule.”
    Sarcasm is lost on scientific types. “Of course, Mindy. It’s good to see you.” She moved forward to embrace me. “You are looking very nice. I’m glad you finally decided to change your hair back to normal and dress a bit more appropriately.”
    “Yeah, well…” I didn’t want to do this in front of her staff. “Is there somewhere we can go to have a discussion? In private?”
    My mother blinked, like it hadn’t occurred to her until now that other people were around, and that I might not want to discuss my mental issues in front of them. “Oh. Yes. Why don’t we take this into my office? Isla, bring me a mineral water. Mindy?”
    I waved her off. “Nothing, thanks.”
    “One mineral water,” my mother said, motioning for me to follow. “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, Mindy, but you’ve caught me off guard and I simply don’t have a lot of time to spare these days.”
    “So what else is new?”
    She frowned and opened the door to her plush office. “Now, Mindy, don’t take that tone. You know things are always crazy around Nobel season.”
    “I know, Mom. I’m not trying to pick a fight,” I said, taking the plush, buttery leather seat to which she motioned. “I just meant that you’re always busy. That’s nothing new.”
    “Now, what’s wrong that you needed to see me immediately?” she asked, taking the chair opposite and behind her desk. It was unquestionably the position of power.
    I took a deep breath. “My migraines are getting worse.”
    “Well, you’ve suffered from them from such a young age. Maybe it’s time to discuss changing medications.”
    “And I’ve been having terrible nightmares again, too.”
    She nodded. “I’m the side of the family you get that from, Mindy, remember? It’s always worse around that time—your menstrual cycle is a big part of the problem. You might want to discuss with your gynecologist getting on birth control pills that limit your cycle.”
    I shook my head. “Mom, the dreams are about my time on Kalybri. And I’m hearing voices and experiencing…well, weird things.”
    My mother’s face went white. “What are you dreaming about Kalybri, Mindy?”
    “These…monsters are operating on me.” I shuddered. “They’re speaking Kalybrian. I’m speaking Kalybrian after I wake up, and I thought I’d forgotten the language.” I set my hands on the edge of her desk. “Mom, I know