had to be licensed by the Chamber of Halves to even own one. Now, faced with the truth so soon, Aaron wished he still had a week-long buffer. Yet he couldn’t resist his morbid curiosity.
Up close, the contraption smelled like rubbing alcohol, and Aaron saw why the globe looked opaque from across the room. There were millions of web-like cracks spreading out from its core. Aaron felt the urge to look away from the glass, as if he was staring someone in the eye.
A data cable ran from the back of the aitherscope to an open laptop on a stool. Dr. Selavio unlocked the eyepiece with a key and slid it along two concentric, grooved tracks, one labeled with the month and day, the other with the year. He clicked it into place at the intersection of March 30th and the year Aaron was born.
“Go ahead and peer through the eyepiece,” said Dr. Selavio. He pulled a pen from his breast pocket and leveled his clipboard. “It’s streaming video, so I’ll have the same image on my laptop.”
“And what am I supposed to see?” said Aaron.
“Should be an image of your half’s eyes—her iris pattern, essentially. Sort of like a fingerprint. Once we get a clear picture, we’ll get it analyzed.”
Amber’s green eyes flashed in Aaron’s mind before he could stop himself, and he wasn’t prepared for the nervous rush that shook his body. He stepped up to the brass eyepiece, and his heartbeat ratcheted up. He was scared to look, scared of what he might see—or might not see. He inhaled slowly, but his pulse kept climbing. Maybe just a quick glance. He leaned forward, closed one eye, and touched his eyebrow to the cold brass.
Aaron blinked, and a white circle filled his vision, cracks whizzed out of view. Then it went dark. He shifted to get a better angle.
“It’s a piece of junk, it’s all black—”
Just then an image flashed into focus. He saw threads of white static, so bright they stung his retinas. Aaron shoved the eyepiece aside, head spinning, and staggered backwards. A throbbing pain gnawed at the back of his skull. He clutched his scalp.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he said. “It’s broken!”
“Why, what did you see?” said Casler, glancing between Aaron and the laptop screen, now blank.
“Nothing,” said Aaron, “just static.”
Dr. Selavio’s eyebrows shot up, almost to his hairline. He scribbled something on the clipboard.
Aaron leaned forward to see what it was, but Casler tilted the clipboard away from him, still writing. “I’m sure Clive’s explained my work,” he said.
“Actually, I’m confused,” said Aaron, and he pulled out the crumpled appointment reminder. “What is Abnormal Obstetrics anyway?”
Casler continued his frenzied notes. “Think of me as a plumber,” he said, “I fix leaks in the clairvoyant channel. Mainly, I deal with childbirth, since virtually all abnormalities in the clairvoyant channel originate during its formation at birth.”
“Is that what I have?” said Aaron, trying to peek over the clipboard again, “an abnormality in my channel?”
Casler finished jotting notes in Aaron’s file and glanced up. “If it’s alright with you, Aaron, I’d like to see you again. Preferably before your birthday.”
“What’d you write in my file?”
“You have my card, Aaron,” he said, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “You should grab Dominic now so he can drive you home.” He flashed his brilliant set of teeth one more time and reached out his hand.
“Is something wrong with me?” said Aaron, but he didn’t need to ask. Dr. Selavio’s too-firm handshake confirmed his fears.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” said Casler.
Aaron eyed the medical forms on the clipboard, suddenly convinced that Dr. Selavio knew something about him the other doctors didn’t. He needed to read those notes.
Casler wore a ring on his middle finger, which he clinked against the clipboard. It was the only sound in the damp, concrete space. Frozen under Dr. Selavio’s impatient stare and unable to formulate a plan fast enough, Aaron trudged toward the exit.
“One more thing,” said Casler, when Aaron reached the stairs, “I’m glad you’re curious about my work. I think you should come on Wednesday.”
“What’s on Wednesday?” said Aaron.
“It’s kind of like a support group for men. We all need some time by ourselves, you know, without our halves.” He winked. “Dominic attended last week, and I think he enjoyed himself. Think about it, Aaron. Oh, and shut the cellar door on your way out, would you?”
***
Aaron snapped out of his daze when he emerged from the cellar and found himself in