They pulled up to a restaurant Keynes hadn’t ever been to but he’d heard about and it made him incredibly wary. Lily of the Valley wasn’t your average establishment. It catered to the very rich. It is also a poisonous flower. What am I walking into? Keynes had a moment of doubt as he considered the luxurious car, exclusive restaurant and two Level 2 bodyguards. He’d met people who were at least Level 2 before but they all had been soldiers or policemen.

“Let’s have lunch,” Vivena Foxglove said from the backseat. Bodyguards exited the car and opened the doors. Keynes stepped out and stifled a surprise. Lily of the Valley looked impressive from this close.

“I’m not too sure I can afford lunch in this establishment.” Keynes didn’t know the menu and its prices but judging by the cars in the parking and the front of the building, nothing would be affordable to the middle class. It got Keynes really thinking. Who the hell is she?

Vivena Foxglove glanced at Keynes, surprised. It seemed she wasn’t used to people who couldn’t afford things. Her reaction suggested so but Keynes decided to withhold his judgement for now.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is new to me. The lunch’s on me.”

The bodyguards gave him wary looks. They saw an intruder in him who didn’t belong to this world. Keynes understood this. He didn’t like to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

Keynes frowned when a general manager welcomed them instead of a host or hostess. The way he treated Vivena Foxglove told Keynes very much. She was a VIP here.

The general manager greeted Keynes with proper formality and asked them to follow him.

The restaurant smelled of a few dominant odours, which Keynes couldn’t identify. He wasn’t an expert when it came to smells and his perfect memory was lacking in this department, and yet, it seemed unlikely to find a whole set of smells that were unknown to him.

Darkened glass panels on each side of the corridor showed blurred contours of what was on the other side. The lights were dimmed, creating a cosy atmosphere. Each table had a flickering light, candles. Impressive, but why did they call this place after a poisonous flower? This didn’t add up.

They didn’t join the main floor and were taken to the top floor where each table had a fully private setting. Theirs had a balcony with a view of a valley.

One bodyguard entered with them while the other stayed outside. Keynes could feel his piercing eyes. It wasn’t pleasant when someone glared at you as if you were a potential murderer.

“I’ll have Geneva assist you, Miss Foxglove. If you need anything else, please call me.”

“Thank you, Andrew.” Andrew gave her a respectful bow and withdrew without a further word. Andrew looked much like Heinrich Hertz and couldn’t be older than 40 years old, yet the amount of respect he showed to Vivena was too extensive for a simple VIP. Not that Keynes was an expert in the field. Such things didn’t hold an interest in his mind.

“He’s a good man,” Vivena said when Andrew left, closing the door behind him softly.

Keynes didn’t speak. He was having another brain paralysis. Vivena Foxglove was too much for him to handle.

“Anyway,” she said when Keynes failed to react. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”

“I…”

The door opened and a blonde girl, no older than 20 years old, entered the room. She was pretty but average pretty and her face looked so much like thousands of other pretty blondes you could meet at the university, a church or on a plane. She didn’t possess the spark Vivena Foxglove had.

“Miss Foxglove,” the hostess bowed. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Hello, Geneva. I’m sorry I won’t have time to chat today. I promise to find a spot next week. My siblings are relentless and they cannot go a week without finding more work for me.”

Geneva’s face flared with many shades of red, then, clearly abashed, she affirmed Vivena to not bother. Keynes remained silent during their incomplete conversation, which was a strong sign of their close acquaintance.

“We’d like to order two Pea Tarts,” she concluded their personal exchange of words. Before Geneva scribbled the order, Vivena turned to Keynes and asked. “Is that okay with you? I promise they are delicious.”

Keynes nodded. He didn’t feel like refusing Vivena. She was paying and he didn’t mind eating almost anything.

“Good!” She clapped her hands. “And add something fitting to drink. Ask Rayna if you aren’t sure.”

“Yes, Miss Foxglove.”

As she fled the room, although she tried to remain calm, Keynes couldn’t help but ask, “Who’s Rayna?” He didn’t know what kind of drink would fit a Pea Tart. He'd never had one.

“She’s a sommelier.”

A red flag instantly showed up.

“I’m not of age yet.”

He didn’t know how her sad eyes could smile, but they did. Does she already have a Talent? Considering all of this, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she isn’t who she says she is.

“Neither am I but does it matter?”

“The restaurant can get in trouble for this.”

“Only if someone will rat them out, will you?”

Keynes’s arms shot up and he shook his head, asserting her he’d have never done such a thing. He was having a bad feeling about this. She’d appeared out of nowhere and now she invited him to one of the most expensive restaurants in Texas. Keynes wanted out. I am starting to freak out, he realized. Did someone use a Talent’s power on me? His mother had a Talent that soothed the nerves of other people. Maybe Vivena had a similar thing? Who knew what Talents possessed her bodyguards.

“I’m kidding,” she said, seeing his discomfort. She’s reading me like a book, isn’t she? “A bit of wine won’t harm us. Soon, we’ll join the club of Level 1s and our bodies will grow stronger.”

That was true. People who unlocked their Talents and gained the first Level, acquired bodies that worked differently from the ordinary ones. While many diseases still plagued people with Levels, and some new ailments touched only them, they still held one massive advantage over those who didn’t gain Level 1, their health pool could be replenished in most cases. Losing a limb or a vital organ usually was irreparable but cancer and infections weren’t a big deal if one could afford a person with a medical Talent.

“Sorry, I freaked out a little,” Keynes admitted, unsure why he said it. Once he did, he decided to not backtrack and continue this path. “You’re the first person who’s nice to me and this place... Well, I don’t want to even think about the prices.”

“Is the high school that bad?”

“It depends. My brother Harter is beloved by half of it, while the other part’s afraid of him.”

“Woah. That’s… unexpected.”

“Yes. I’m nothing like him. A complete opposite. Average intellect or I should say, average memory, stupidly good looks, and a sports team body.”

She nodded, which was a little hurtful because suddenly Keynes realized he waited for her to deny his words and tell him he looked good as well. This is worrying. I’ve never once felt concerned about my stupid face.

The Pea Tarts arrived among the uncomfortable silence. Silence had never been an issue to Keynes, in fact, he’d thrived in it. He tried to recollect any theories about the mechanisms that stood behind his sudden discomfort. Surprisingly, Freud, Jung, Adler, Skinner and other great minds refused to share their insights with him. That was his exact problem. He could read all the books, watch all the movies and listen to all spoken records in the world, and yet, he couldn’t process that information faster than he read a book or watched TV. He felt his mind limiting him. And on top of that, this girl makes it even harder to remember.

Geneva placed the plates with exquisite looking Pea Tarts in front of them. They looked more like art than food.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Foxglove, but Rayna said that wine would not go well with the Pea Tarts. Would you like to order something else to drink?”

Vivena looked at Keynes.

“Would you like to something to drink, Keynes?”

Keynes didn’t enjoy being in the spotlight but he understood that answering her would get him out of it sooner.

“Water, please.”

“For me as well,” Vivena added.

“Yes, Miss Foxglove. Once again, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s Rayna.”

Once again, Keynes and Vivena were left alone, not counting the bodyguard. Vivena didn’t touch the tarts and Keynes did likewise. He didn’t study cultures beyond basic knowledge but he knew it was better to wait. He didn’t exactly trust Vivena either. She had no reason to invite him to lunch. They'd exchange maybe two dozen words since she’d joined the talent class.

Geneva returned with two chilled bottles of water and two glasses. When she left Vivena sighed. “She’s still adjusting to the new role but she has a promising Talent. Geneva, I mean.”

Keynes nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Please, enjoy. I guarantee you’ll love it.”

Keynes’s smile was weak and he really didn’t want to eat it. Too many spy movies. Should I ask her directly about this? He wondered.

“You don’t like it?” she asked, seeing the untouched tart.

“No. It’s not that.”

“Then what’s the matter? I can order something else… It’s just my favourite thing and I love sharing it with others.”

“Why did you invite me here?”

Sadness returned to her eyes and Keynes noticed a bit of stiffness entering her posture.

“What do your parents do?”

The question took Keynes aback. What was that?

“I don’t understand. Is this some kind of small talk?”

“No. It’s… well, I’m not the best in interacting with people. Geneva’s one of a few I can spend time with. I invited you here because I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?”

“Yes. I mentioned you to my parents and they were intrigued by your photographic memory. They understand your limitations though. I…”

“What do you mean by ‘limitations’?” Keynes asked, having a sinking feeling. It wasn’t about him and her, it was about his perfect memory. I am just a naïve kid, am I not? The answer to this wasn’t obvious and Keynes would give a different one depending on his mood. Right now, he said yes, he was just a silly 16 years old kid.

“What is your IQ?”

Had they really been discussing Keynes’s photographic memory in the same context as Keynes did? That was unnerving.

“I guess it’s around 120.”

“Above average. Not bad. But such IQ cannot fully utilize your perfect memory, am I right?”

Who the hell is she?

“Yes,” Keynes replied slowly. He squinted toward the balcony and wondered if he could get there before the Level 2 bodyguard. Unlikely. He squinted at the bodyguard then and found his piercing eyes on him.

“My parents believe that there are ways to shape talent and they can help you.” Believe? Help me? What’s the catch here? There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. Isn’t that funny? She outsmarted me. I may recite every word from the entire Shakespeare's bibliography but here I failed at basics.

“Why would they help me?”

“It’s very simple. If we succeed and you receive a Talent that combines well with your perfect memory, then they would like to offer you a job. A well-paid job, at least six figures at the start.”

A six figures starting job? Was she related to the Rockefellers or the Saels or the Earls? Or maybe the Foxgloves belonged to the rumoured group of absurdly rich families hiding from public scrutiny? The latter was only a conspiracy theory, although it had a few strong leads. For one, no one paid a 16-year-old a six-figure salary.

“What if I refuse the job offer?”

“They won’t help you.” That’s the catch then. They help me get the Talent I want and in exchange, I have to work for them…

“How long would I have to work for them?”

“Ten years.” It seemed that her parents had everything planned out. Scary but nonetheless, enticing. With the military refusing to help, Keynes ran out of options. The Internet was full of ideas about Talent shaping but the evidence showed how ineffective they were. It’s pretty coincidental timing.

“I didn’t think that anyone besides the military and the World Government would know how to shape Talents.”

She shrugged.

“Do they shape your Talent as well?”

No answer again. Fine!

“I will need to speak to my parents before I can give you an answer. Is that okay?”

“Yes. And one more thing.” Eh? “If you agree and we manage to shape your Talent, my parents would level you up to Level 3.”

“Level 3?”

“Yes.”

***

Keynes stood before his house and thought about the conversation with Vivena. She wasn’t the person he’d thought she was. Things she offered him happened only in movies and conspiracy theories.

“What’s the matter?” Harter asked. Keynes didn’t hear him coming. “Did you forget keys again?” It’d actually happened. That was the hidden drawback of perfect memory. If something else was on Keynes’s mind, he would forget other things. Shit, I need a proper Talent to supplement my memory. At this point, what choice do I have?

“No,” Keynes replied. “I have something to think about.”

“Man, just do it. You always are overthinking simple stuff.”

“It’s not simple stuff.”

“Yeah, you always say so.”

Harter passed through the porch and entered the house, leaving Keynes alone. I have no choice but to speak with my parents.

His father wasn’t home. He worked irregular hours and sometimes disappeared for weeks, doing delegation contracts. His mother, a trauma soother, or as her professional job title called her, a trauma therapist, worked only a few hours a day. They had well-paid jobs but… what Vivena offered was something else.

“Keynes, how’s the school?” She approached him, expecting bad news. Harter had already mentioned to her that Keynes had been standing outside and she worried, as a professional and as a mother.

“Good.”

“Are you worried about tomorrow’s examination?”

“No, not really. There’s something else. When will dad get back?”

“I have no clue,” she shook her head. “You know he’s working on some tight deadlines lately.”

With Harter upstairs, Keynes decided to tell his mother about the conversation with Vivena and her family’s offer.

“This is… what is this? Do you have any idea who is she?”

Keynes didn’t know. He checked the Internet on his way home. Foxglove showed only the information about the poisonous flower. He checked anything he could access about the Lily of the Valley restaurant, but ownership was held by some Chinese company Keynes found nothing about. He was convinced the company was only a proxy.

“In this case, I say ‘no’.”

He understood. The deal smelled fishy.

“What if they speak the truth and I’d be able to shape my Talent? The military educator didn’t tell me exact numbers but from our conversations, I figured out that the proportion of inactive Talents is about 20%. And if we disregard the possibility of a detrimental Talent, hoping for the best and actually getting a Talent that enhances my perfect memory, can you imagine how life-changing that would be?”

His mother nodded.

“I can imagine that but who pays a 16 year old a six-figure salary?”

“They’d only do it if I receive the Talent that combines well with my perfect memory. If not, then deal is off.”

This was the part his mother didn’t like and she explained to him that.

“Listen, what if they mess up your Talent? Who will be accountable for that? You know that once you get the Talent, there’s no changing it. I’ve never heard about ‘shaping’ Talent either and to me it is just snake oil.”

“Mom,” Keynes murmured. “I usually play safe. But this may be the last chance. The military won’t help and I’m pretty sure they have at least a rudimentary understanding of how to shape Talents. I guess the military doesn’t like the idea of me being another Edward Morra.”

“Who?”

“The protagonist from a movie Limitless. He had a super mind and it made him unstoppable.”

His mother gave him a sceptical look. Yeah, I sound nuts.

“Give me a few days. I need to talk with your dad about this.”

“Just don’t talk to anyone else about this, okay?”

“Sure.”

***

A week later, Keynes’s parents came to an agreement. It was an opportunity and seeing how willing Keynes was, they wanted to give it a shot. But they wouldn’t allow the Foxgloves to walk over them. They’d contacted a lawyer who agreed to proofread the contract.

Keynes gave Vivena a call and she invited his family over to her house.

“What?” Keynes asked, feeling how his brain was turning into a mush already.

“It’s just weird. For you to have a girlfriend. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you go all out formal. A family meeting? How long have you been together?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that we aren’t together?”

“Then why are we going there?”

Their mother strode into a living room, all formal, and looking pretty. She liked to joke she looked like Marilyn Monroe, they all knew it was a stretch. Especially in the morning.

An hour later, they were on their way. The Foxgloves lived outside of San Antonio on a ranch with hectares of uncultivated land. Their house had a massive driveaway with a fountain in the middle. The building itself was built from sandstone and oak. It gave a pleasant feel of richness and yet didn’t indicate anything outrageous.

“Holy shit,” Harter muttered. “Who’s your girlfriend?”

Keynes ignored him but their father had the same look of wonder on his face. Yes. From close, the house looked outrageous.

Vivena stood on the wide stone stairs in the company of (presumably) her parents. The woman had ruby red hair and wore a matching green dress that lined her outstanding silhouette. Keynes’s mother stiffened upon seeing her. For some reason, she decided to go fully formal, wearing a grey knee-length skirt and matching jacket. And she knew she made a mistake. At least, the man didn’t have anything extravagant on him, except for his shoes and a watch. Keynes didn’t know the price for either item but these things were designed with only one goal in mind, to display wealth.

“They are indeed rich.”

They exited the car and made their way to the stairs where the Foxgloves welcomed them.

“Welcome to our modest house. We rarely stay here but it has a nice bar,” the man said. He could play James Bond if he wished to. And this wasn’t all. Keynes couldn’t explain it but something about the two was different, very different. He hadn’t sensed anything from the Level 2 bodyguards or even his uncle Ricky who was Level 2 because of his unfruitful military career. Next to these people, he suddenly felt alert. He checked and found his parents and Harter had the same expressions.

“Sorry,” the man said. “You haven’t met anyone of our Level before, have you?”

“Dad,” Vivena said quietly.

Her dad nodded apologetically.

“Right, right. Sorry. We’re Level 5s and sometimes our presence makes other people uncomfortable. This will pass, I promise. Why don’t we introduce ourselves? My name’s Frank Foxglove, this is my beautiful wife Lorelai and our youngest daughter Vivena. The rest of our children couldn’t be here as they are the ones who run our business.”

As they reached the top of the stairs, Keynes’s father extended his hand, “Ewan Kid.” Frank Foxglove shook his hand and then Keynes’s father half-turned and introduced his wife. “This is my pretty wife, Nina and our two sons, Keynes and Harter.”

Ewan Kid was a man of a laser-beam focus and no bullshit attitude. One should wonder how was it possible that Harter was his son…

After exchanging necessary pleasantries, the Foxgloves invited them inside. The living room was styled in a rustic design with an expected touch of luxury. Keynes’s parents schooled their faces, not giving the awe that struck them. Harter didn’t have the same objections and openly expressed his admiration.

“Your girlfriend’s house is awesome,” he said.

Keynes and Vivena froze, while the four partners frowned at the remark.

“What?” Harter asked and shamelessly asked if he could tour the house.

“Harter!” Nina Carter-Kid hissed and Keynes facepalmed himself. His brother was an idiot.

“Sure, why not,” Frank Foxglove said with a smile “Darling, please show Harter and Keynes the house.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s my future we’re talking about. I may be only 16 now but this isn’t my parents’ decision. It is me who would have to live with it.”

“Very well,” Lorelai Foxglove said. She was different from her husband. There was a noticeable coldness coming from her.

Vivena and Harter quickly vanished from the living room and somewhere inside, Keynes felt tension. Harter was everything Keynes wasn’t. Girls loved him. Am I that dumb? Am I really jealous about Vivena? A girl I barely know.

They took seats at an ‘L’ shaped sofa. Lorelai asked them what would they like to drink and her husband went to bring the drinks. What struck Keynes was the lack of staff and bodyguards. If these people were as rich as Keynes suspected, then where was everyone?

“I understand you know the basics of our offer,” Lorelai said from the other sofa when her husband returned with a bottle of Arafessa, a couple of thousand dollars per bottle bourbon. Keynes asked for water but instead of water, there was only bourbon and five glasses. Frank noticed his gaze and interrupted the conversation.

“If you wish to sit and make business with adults, you must behave like one.”

Keynes’s father opened his mouth but his wife put a hand on his shoulder and he slumped a little. She used her Talent.

Frank Foxglove poured the bourbon into the glasses, then raised his glass. “To a fruitful deal.”

He emptied the glass waiting for the rest. He didn’t accept Keynes’s father’s excuses about driving nor let Keynes off the hook until he finished his glass. And gods, it was one of the worst experiences of his life. The alcohol burned his throat and his stomach protested. His father patted his back encouragingly.

“Please, continue,” Frank Foxglove said to his wife.

“I apologize for my husband’s antics. Now, shall we?” She gave the floor to Keynes’s family and Nina Kid-Carter didn’t waste a second.

“Your offer sounds terrific with one small exception. It doesn’t specify your responsibilities in the case of failure. Keynes needs a safety net.”

Frank Foxglove took a seat next to his wife and they waited for the red-haired woman to speak up. She took her sweet time. Keynes didn’t like her. Her true attitude was leaking through though.

“Without our help, his chances to receive the Talent in the desired range is next to zero. The exact Talent forming processes are unknown. The world’s best scientists, the military and even the World Government’s science division is just starting to get a better grip on the spiritual DNA and Talents. We wouldn’t offer our help if we were in the same position as the aforementioned parties. Our family holds secrets of old and one of them is how to influence the formation of Talent.” She raised a hand, noticing the expressions of the Kid family, they were bursting with questions. “Our method has a success rate of 40%. It’s the best you can find in the solar system. That said, I don’t see why should we offer a safety net on top of our initial commitment. If we fail to secure the desired Talent, we won’t charge you a penny and this method isn’t exactly cheap. That’s our final offer.”

The Kids exchanged glances. They’d discussed this before coming here, Keynes made them. He knew it was a possibility he’d get nothing if they failed.

“What if he gets an inactive Talent?” Nina Kid-Carter asked, she wasn’t going to walk away with empty hands. “Or you damage his spiritual DNA.”

“We don’t interfere with spiritual DNA. This is the field of people with Talents focused on a spirit attribute. A failure is akin to walking away from the deal.”

“We’ll need this in writing.”

“And we’ll need you to sign an NDA before that. We can’t allow the world to learn about this. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

Keynes watched the women and he could swear he saw the spark of fire in their eyes.