“Earth to Finch, come in Finch? Finch, do you copy over?” Casper asks, poking me for the umpteenth time. It’s been a long four days of driving. We’ll be stopping soon for the night, and I thank the Districts because if I have to pull over one more time for Casper’s small bladder, I might run him over.

“Yes, I copy and no, we are not there yet.” I ground out. “Yes, I’m sure there will be some SUPER mag chicks wherever we end up. And I do not care if you have to pee. Get a bottle out and go in the back.”

“Aww Finch-”

“Just- just look at the map and plot our course or something.” I sigh.

He shrugs but does as suggested and taps a button on the panel embedded in the black dash. The screen lights, and the blue background of the map appears.

“It looks like we need to head Southwest.  Towards Medicia.” He studies the coordinates of our eventual destination. “Finch?”

“I’m not stopping this vehicle, Caspian.”

“Not that!” He stabs a bony finger at the holomaps, the one that shows a 4D image of our trip and the terrain we cover in real-time. Another tap, and it blows up the spot, zooming in on the little village we’re driving towards.

“Why are we going to hell, mat moor queso?”

“Firstly, it’s pronounced high-mat amour cuh-saw,” I correct him.

“Why would I know that?” Casper shrugs. “It’s so far past any of The Five that there’s no reason for me to know it even exists. Especially if it’s on Clan grounds.”

He’s not wrong. It lies between The Fourth District, Terra, and the Fifth District, Medicia. Being designated “on Clan Grounds” means this Himat Amour Casa lies under Clan law, untouched by the governing from The Districts. Still, if I want the assistance of their doctors, we’ll have to play nice.

“You’ll need to know more if you wish to avoid offending anyone,” I remind him. He sighs.

“No matter how you say it, I still don’t know why we’re going there. I've given you your space and kept myself from losing my mind with boredom, but seriously, you need to tell me what's going on at some point. I’m your best friend. You can tell me what’s going on.”

Damn him. Using the same puppy-eyed gaze, he taught Adriana the last time he was her sitter.

“You need to study up,” I tell him.

“If you tell me what’s going on, sure.”

There is no getting around it. “I’m… exhibiting symptoms of an illness,” I admit through gritted teeth. He plays with the holo-map, expanding and shrinking the features before waving at me to continue. “I don't know exactly what you'd call it. I've been trying to do research, and there doesn't seem to be a name for it in our books. Nan gave me one of her books and a map. She said this sickness is common in the clans, but I haven’t been able to verify anything else.” Casper nods slowly, taking all this in.

“Alright. So why not go to someone back home in Apparatus? Or come to Dominion and talk to my aunt?”

I raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on. Yes, you're part of the Finch family, and yes, you might be in the public eye. But you're still human, man, you can't ignore this," He protests. I shake my head. Of all the people to make such a ludicrous statement.

"Casper, this can't get out. It needs to be handled quickly; my father's already throwing fits because I've been out of sorts around the house. The last thing he wants is for me to look weak in front of the Districts. It would take away from our image and reputation." Casper scoffs at the reminder, all but flinging the holo-map away from him.

"Something I intend to change as Chancellor. It shouldn't be looked down on like a crime to call in sick. You shouldn’t be treated as a leper when you laugh or cry genuinely, or if you want to be with someone because you find them attractive, not because the compatibility system tells you you're supposed to be with them," He grumbles.

I try to keep my voice even.

"You have something against the compatibility system?" I ask. He shrugs and looks away.

"I don't, exactly. But there are some things you can't factor in with equations and science experiments, Finch. Life has too many variables for that, and that’s the logic of the situation."

When I say nothing, he continues,

"But that's beside the point. We're focusing on you right now. You're showing symptoms of illness, you say? What kind of symptoms do you mean?” Best friend or not, it still tugs at something in my stomach to speak of it aloud.

"Finch?" He prods. Sometimes, I hate that he might be Chancellor, but it's just as likely he's to be the head Counselor, who serves as an advisor to the leader. Someone who listens to the worries and the pains, those dark little snakes that weave their way through our minds.

"I... I’m sure you’ve noticed. I've had fits of great emotional outbursts. Physical pain, trouble sleeping, cold sweats, I frequently go into a dissociative state…” ..." If I keep it clinical, I don't have to admit to anything besides scientific curiosity. I focus on the road.

"And how long has this been going on? He asks, pulling out his ever-present notepad.

"Eight days, sixteen hours, and thirty-five minutes. It seems to be getting worse." My fists are growing white from clenching the steering wheel.

He nods pencil scribbling across the paper.

"And are there any triggers that you can tell? Anything that makes it better or worse?" He offers.

There's the kicker. The final piece of a puzzle I'm not at all sure I want to solve and don't understand.

“My pendant has been shining. I initially thought it was a malfunction, but the pendant operates fine when it’s used for compatibility testing.”

“Odd pendant…” He writes something down. “Anything else?”

I was afraid he was going to ask that.

"There's... I have dreams," I mutter, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?" Casper asks.

I shift, and my mouth goes dry. Couldn't he need a break NOW?

“Finch.”

“It’s- there’s a girl,” I whisper.

Casper looks like he can’t decide whether to remain quiet and let me finish talking or chuck the notepad and start demanding answers. The former option wins out.

“She- She’s there when I sleep. Since I started feeling ill, and it’s not like other dreams, I- I feel like I’ve known her for years, like maybe I met her somewhere and forgot.”

He thinks about this and looks over his notes.

“Perhaps she’s a manifestation of the illness? Some symptoms that your subconscious worries about?”

I want to agree with him. That would be the easy route. But I can’t. It feels more profound than that. So, I don’t say anything at all.

“And you think that this place we’re going to. You think they have doctors there who can help you?” He offers.

“I think…” I’m biting my tongue harder, harder, trying to keep the words from escaping. My fingers rub themselves together over the steering wheel; my foot is unsteady on the pedal.

“I think maybe she’ll be there,” I tell him.

Casper blinks and sits back in his seat. The car is worryingly quiet, and that little nagging fear that I’m too far gone, too much past the standard, rears its ugly head.

“I know that sounds crazy-” I begin, trying to cover up the silence.

“Is she hot?” He interrupts.

“What?”

He’s doodling now; the notes are no longer anything medical. I think he’s drawing Mace with a flower crown.

“The girl, the one we’re going to find. Is she hot?” His eyebrows waggle at me. “Do you ever dream about a cute sister or best friend?”

The relief makes me snort, and soon, I’m laughing so hard I think I might have to pull over, or we’ll end up in an accident.

“I’ve always known you were a kook. This doesn’t make it any different. So, let’s go find you your dream girl.” He grins at me. “But first, another break!”

I do end up having to pull over and laugh until my sides ache.

My good mood fades after an incident with a watermelon stand and escaping an angry vegetable vendor. Casper decides we require more food or entertainment. Or both.

“When do we get another break?”

“We just took one.” I glance up through the windshield and squint at the sky.

“Like seven hours ago.”

“Barely three. Does it look like rain to you?” I turn the station and try and listen for weather reports and forecasts in the area.

Casper shrugs, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. He flips them into a circle, jiggles them back and forth, cuts the deck, and does it again. Mace seems to enjoy it; his eyes follow the movement of the cards. That makes one of us.

“You worry too much, Bird Man. It’s not time to hibernate yet.”

He resumes doing his card tricks, and I look at the map up on the port screen of the GPS. We’ve got a way to go before we get to the next Clan, but we should make it before nightfall. The roads are clear, I can see land for miles, and it’s a decent enough day that the jeep doesn’t feel stifling.

Against an otherwise empty backdrop, a bright smear of yellow and torn red pants runs streaking past. I slam on the brakes to avoid hitting them, and they screech before sprinting into the brush.

“What the hell was that?!” Casper demands, still trying to catch his breath. My knuckles turn white from how tightly they grip the steering wheel.

“I don’t know. I- it looked like a person.” My mind is trying to catch up, but it couldn’t have been another human. The being was too… feral for that.

“What kind of psycho runs through oncoming traffic?!”

I swallow and do my best to keep the car on the road.

“Most likely a teen pulling some stunt to amuse his friends. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Casper shifts, trying to pick up the cards that had gone flying. I watch him from the corner of my eye; he mutters as he picks up the ones he can reach.

“Sure, it was—a common stunt for the amusement of others. Typical adolescent behavior,” He sums up, shuffling the deck.

“Exactly.” I agree.

“I hate it out here.”

I can’t disagree. I prefer to be at home, conducting new experiments in Finch labs or playing with Adriana. But I can’t turn back now. Not until I can get those eyes out of my head.

“We can stop for a break.”