The Elders

by Dima Zales

  At the mention of the female gender, my worry is lessened and my curiosity is piqued. “Who is it? And why are you questioning Alfred’s idea?”

  “Let’s just say it’s someone who might have a huge problem with the fact that you’re part Leacher. So if we’re to do this, perhaps don’t tell her?”

  “I guess . . .” My worry returns; the Super Pusher would have the same problem.

  “That also means not telling her who you are, as that would also tell her about your nature,” George says, clearly not noticing my discomfort.

  “Fine, but can you explain whom we’re meeting?” I’m not too eager to meet this Reader-phobic mystery girl.

  “You’ll see,” he says, his tone mockingly conspiratorial. “Her room is near the entrance of the Castle.”

  He walks toward the looming structure and I follow, albeit reluctantly. Besides this person being slightly suspicious, we’re returning to the very place where I was last attacked.

  “George, this Teleportation thing you taught me,” I say as we make a sharp right turn. “What Frederick did with it—”

  “About that,” George says. “I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t tell the Elders that I taught you how to Teleport.”

  “Did you break the rules?” I ask, looking at him. “Kate saw you do it, and she didn’t object.”

  “Kate knows to mind her own business. The Elders would only have a problem with it in your case. I think they want to monopolize their secrets as leverage.”

  “So you know what they want from me?” I ask.

  “No.” He rubs the stubble on his chin. “I just know they want something from everybody, and I know what you wanted from this trip, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what leverage they’d use on you.”

  “I’ll keep it between us then,” I say. “And I appreciate you teaching me, by the way. The Elders should follow your example.”

  He shrugs. “Like many people with too much power, they’ve lost their skill at diplomacy. I can’t afford to. Besides, to me, you’re family.”

  “So can you also Teleport like they do?” I ask. “Like some kind of comic-book hero?”

  “No,” George says, entering through the large Castle doors. “Nor would they teach you, unless you became one of them.”

  “Oh . . .” My shoulders stoop a little. “That would’ve been cool.”

  “It’s not like the comic books anyway,” George says, probably in an attempt to cheer me up. “It’s limited to the Mind Dimension, and even for the Elders, there are limits to how far they can Teleport.”

  I sigh wistfully. “Still, I’d love to be able to do that.”

  “You can at least master doing it when you first get pulled in,” George says and stops in front of a large door. “We’re here,” he explains. “Let’s see if we’ll get lucky today.”

  I wait, unsure what luck has to do with meeting this mysterious stranger.

  The door opens a sliver, and smoke comes pouring out. Before I can think ‘fire,’ a raspy voice asks, “Who is it?”

  “It’s George.”

  The door opens all the way. Behind it stands the tiniest old lady. No, not old—ancient. She’s holding a silver cigarette holder with a lit stogie in it, which explains the nauseating fumes.

  “How are you, Mary? Do you recognize me?” George asks.

  “Georgie,” she says, her voice quivering. “When I can’t recognize you, I will ask them to put me down like a dog.”

  “Please don’t. I couldn’t bear that.”

  “You have always been a sweet talker, like your uncle.” She exhales another cloud of white smoke. “It’s wonderful of you to visit again. This must be what, your twentieth visit this year?”

  George walks up to her, gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek, and says, “I’m so glad you’re lucid today.”

  She looks me over with her rheumy, but intelligent eyes. “I am not so lucid as to recall who this young man is, even if he does look strangely familiar.”

  She steps back into the room.

  “The disease is not the reason you don’t know him. You haven’t met him before.” George gestures for me to follow him inside.

  “Then why did you bring him?” she asks, shooting me a glance. “He looks too young to be a doctor.”

  “His name is Darren, and he’s under evaluation to become a special Ambassador. Alfred thought it would be courteous for you to meet him.”

  “Still such a polite lad, that Alfred,” she says and takes a deep drag of her cigarette. “It’s nice to meet you, Darren.”

  “Darren, I want you to meet Mary,” George says. “She’s my aunt, and Hillary’s grandmother.”

  I look at the lady as though she might sprout an extra head—a fire-breathing head, given the current one’s propensity of exhaling smoke—and I finally understand.

  George just introduced me to my great-grandmother.

  Chapter 13

  “Hold on a minute. You wouldn’t also happen to be the young man Frederick was just telling me about?” Mary sits down in a rocking chair that looks as old as she is. “The one they want to send on that folly of a quest to make peace with the damn Leachers?”

  George raises an eyebrow at this, and I recall how he told me he didn’t know what the Elders want with me. I guess he does now.

  The place looks like a room from a ritzy nursing home, but with homier décor. I look around to find a place to sit. George notices and gestures toward the small bed next to the chair.

  I sit down and George joins me.

  In a moment of silence, I look over the old lady. Her eyes have a layer of cataracts, or something else that makes them seem glassy. Where George’s eyes look very old, hers look like I’m staring into infinity. And at the same time, there’s confusion there, perhaps a sign of the Alzheimer’s disease George mentioned back in Florida.

  “I didn’t agree to it,” I say, realizing that besides staring, I owe her an answer. “But given your tone, it sounds like you’re against it?”

  Her face twists. “Of course I’m against it. Even if the Leachers hadn’t taken everything from me, even if I supported the cowardly madness of trying to talk to them, it would all be for naught. Those people aren’t capable of not hating us. They are brutes, the lot of them.”

  “All of them?” I ask cautiously. This whole exchange reminds me of my and Sara’s attempts to get Gamma and PopPop to be less judgmental of the welfare system. You need a level of finesse when you play devil’s advocate in these situations.

  “You clearly haven’t met one of those monsters,” she says, unfazed. “You talk with the innocence of one who’s been sheltered from them, like Frederick and the other kids. That must be why the others think you’d take on such a task. They want to use you so cruelly. Take my advice, my boy, and say no to that lunacy.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks.” I look at George for support, but he looks deadpan serious. I turn my attention back to her. “You’ve given me something to think about, that’s for sure.”

  She gives me a smile. She has a dimple in one cheek, which gives her a strange, cherub-like appearance—an impression enhanced by her curly white hair and small stature.

  She gives her chair a gentle rocking, then looks confused. “What was I talking about?”

  “I said, ‘This is Hillary’s grandmother, and this is Darren,’” George says.

  “Oh, I remember the introductions, you sneaky trickster.” She cackles, peering at George. “I lost track of something else. But since you mentioned the wild child, tell me, how is she?”

  I smile at the idea of Hillary as the ‘wild child.’ My great-grandmother narrows her eyes at me and looks as if she had an epiphany. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?” she asks me. Before I can reply, she says, “I can’t tell you how glad that makes me. It’s about time that one settled down.”

  “He is,” George says.

  “I’m not,” I say simultaneously.

  “You two nee
d to get your stories straight.” Mary says, flicking her cigarette ash into an intricate ashtray—the only adornment on the end table next to her chair. The table is the one item in this room that looks as if it was made in this century.

  “Hillary is dating a friend of mine,” I say pointedly. I promised to keep my Reader nature hidden, but I did not agree to pretend to be dating my aunt in the process.

  “Is your friend a Guide?” Mary asks worriedly. I think she’s picking up on George’s tension.

  I ignore George’s glare. “No.”

  “My, my.” She shakes her head. “I bet Ronnie boy will have a fit about that.” She scrunches her face in displeasure when she says the name.

  “Ronald doesn’t know about his daughter’s choice,” George says. “At least not yet.”

  “Insufferable bore, that young man,” Mary says. “I warned Anne about marrying him, I did.”

  I suppress a smile. Despite her dislike for Readers, Mary seems less close-minded than Hillary’s parents.

  “I’m sure it’s a phase,” she says after taking another drag from her cigarette. “I’m sure she’ll tire of her Unencumbered plaything sooner rather than later.”

  And there goes that open-mindedness. I change the subject. “Why was Frederick talking about me?”

  “He was just giving me an update,” she says, “since he was the one to pull me in today. Such nice young lads, those brothers, don’t you think, George? One of them would make a much better mate for Hillary, since Darren here isn’t interested, and the two of you didn’t work out.”

  I blink. Wait a second, if what she says is true—

  “It wouldn’t be right for me to try to set up the twins with members of my family,” George says diplomatically. “But as a peer Elder, you could certainly—”

  “That’s rich. Me, an Elder?” She chuckles. “You’re such a flatterer, just like my dear Henry was.”

  “I’m simply speaking the truth.” George’s face shows zero hesitation. “Once an Elder, always an Elder.”

  “Not after your brain gives up on you.” Mary takes a deep puff of her cigarette and lets it out noisily. “After that, you’re nothing but a curiosity around here.”

  I’m barely listening to George and Mary. Instead, a little proverbial lightbulb is slowly gathering electricity above my head. Crossing my fingers and hoping I’m right, I ask as casually as possible, “How does it work, Mary, this current lucidity of yours?”

  “I thought Georgie would have explained it to you.” She puts out what’s left of her cigarette. “When they start a Session, they start with me, you see.”

  My heart rate picks up. “What do you mean, they start with you?”

  “I mean, whoever’s Session it is, they try to pull me in a few times until they catch me during a functional moment. It seems to help me keep my wits better while in the Mind Dimension. Still, even with this trick, sometimes things get fuzzy. And on some days, the Session starter gives up after a dozen attempts. I fear it will only get worse with time.”

  Jackpot. My first and only success as a detective.

  Before I get a chance to ruminate on my epiphany, George says, “At least you get to enjoy a century this time around. That’s more experiences than an Unencumbered has in a lifetime.”

  Mary nods. “You’re right to criticize me for the ungrateful wretch that I am. Now, let’s get back to more important things. Darren, tell me what else my granddaughter has been up to.”

  She resumes smoking, and I proceed to tell her as much as I can about Hillary without elaborating on her role in my recent adventures. I also try not to talk too much about Bert. The story comes out very vegan-agenda oriented.

  “Such a shame,” Mary says, putting out her third cigarette. “This is all rebellion, I tell you. Ronnie’s family were meat farmers—”

  “She’s doing what she thinks is right,” I say, feeling the need to defend my aunt. “I don’t think she gives a rat’s ass about her father’s family business.”

  She sighs. “If it weren’t for Ronald’s heavy-handed approach with my granddaughters, I would have gotten a chance to see them from time to time. As is, the younger one is following in the footsteps of the older—”

  “Why don’t we let Darren go, Mary?” George suggests. “It’s his first time on the Island, after all.”

  “Why do you call me that?” Mary asks, pursing her lips almost petulantly. “Mary this, Mary that?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” George says. “I didn’t want to confuse our young friend here.”

  “What’s there to be confused about?” She digs through her pockets and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “When my mind was my own, I looked after George,” she explains to me.

  “It was more than that,” George says. “You know that.”

  “I had no choice, you see.” She looks at me while putting another cigarette into the holder. Taking out a pack of matches, she says, “His parents were killed, just like my dear—”

  “If Darren wanted a history lesson, he’d hang out with Alfred,” George says. “Also, Mom, should you really be smoking so much?”

  “It’s the Mind Dimension, silly.” She gives him that dimpled smile. “I can stand on my head here as far as my poor health is concerned.”

  “But smoking like this will condition you to want to smoke in the real world. And when the Alzheimer’s hits, you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

  She snorts. “If I lose my mind, having a smoke will be the least of my worries.”

  Despite saying that, she doesn’t light up and returns the matches to her pocket. Then she turns her gaze to me. “Darren, Georgie is right. Since it’s your first time on the Island, you should go off and play some more. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep Georgie here a bit longer.”

  Do I look like a five-year-old to these people? It sure seems so with all these dismissals, not to mention the ‘go and play’ comment.

  Trying not to let my irritation show, I say, “Sure. Great meeting you.”

  I almost add ‘Grammy’ at the end, but stop myself in time. For now, I’ll have to call her that mentally.

  With our goodbyes over, I quickly leave her room and gratefully suck in a lungful of fresh air. As I walk through the Castle halls, I allow myself to focus on my earlier realization.

  Mary let slip that Frederick had pulled her in today, and then I was able to get her to admit that she’s always the first one to get pulled in. Put this together, and it means I’m currently in Frederick’s Mind Dimension. Add in the whole ‘you can only go to Nirvana from your own Mind Dimension’ rumor, and I come to the following conclusion.

  It was Frederick who pulled me into Level 2/Nirvana during my first encounter with the Elders.

  I’m nearly at the Castle’s entrance when I see the Elders entering. The twins are with them, but I’m not sure who is who. I decide on a brute-force approach and say loudly, “Frederick, may I have a word?”

  One of the twins separates from the crowd and walks in my direction. The others track him with curious glances.

  “Darren,” Frederick says. “I’m surprised you singled me out like that. Surely, if you have more questions, Gustav would be—”

  “I know,” I whisper, keeping my voice low so that no one else will hear. “And I want to discuss it.”

  Frederick’s expression is more amused than shocked. “I’m curious to know what you think you know.”

  “You know what it is I’m saying I know. But I’ll give you a hint.” I switch to an even softer voice. “Nirvana.”

  He gives his peers a paranoid glance. “Let’s get away from prying eyes. This way.” He starts walking.

  I follow him. We don’t talk during the few minutes it takes him to bring me to a room on the opposite side of the first floor. It looks very Spartan, except for two super-comfortable, plush chairs in the middle of it, with a large glass coffee table between them. On the table are board games, puzzles, and a couple of different card decks. Frederick ges
tures for me to sit in one of the chairs while he plops into another.

  “We will have privacy in this room,” he says, and looks at me expectantly.

  I take a deep breath. Here we go. “I know you pulled me into Nirvana. And it seems like you don’t want the others to know about it.”

  Frederick gives me a sardonic look. “Oh, don’t think you have any leverage over me.” He reaches over the table and picks up a Rubik’s cube. “It’s just that I promised the others I wouldn’t do it.”

  “Yet you did.” I steal a gaze at his hands. Is he trying to keep them busy with the cube because he’s lying? “Pull me in, that is.”

  “I merely wanted to give you a little nudge.” He turns the cube idly in his hands. The gesture is casual; he’s messing up the colors on it rather than trying to disguise his nervousness. “I knew you were hiding something, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to Guide you to tell us why you came here. The last thing I expected was to discover you have enough Reach for Nirvana, let alone that you’ve traveled there before.”

  They did indeed ask me why I came to this Island right before he pulled me in, but I don’t let my recollection show as I skeptically reply, “So you say.”

  His eyebrows snap together. “Listen, Darren. You have as little reason to trust me as I have to trust you, but I bet you have more to gain from my trust than the other way around.”

  I think about this. It’s feasible he really did want to nudge me into telling them why I came here. I had already decided that the person who pulled me into Level 2 is unlikely to be the Super Pusher, as my enemy knows about my Level 2 capabilities. Still, that doesn’t mean I should trust Frederick blindly. It would be best for us to find some way to collaborate, but if finding common ground were as easy as making a simple, rational decision, human history would be a lot more peaceful.

  “How do I earn your trust then?” I ask. “Outside the whole six-day business?”

  “You can start by telling me your agenda.” Frederick leans forward. “Tell me why you can’t wait the six days. Tell me where you really stand when it comes to the issue of peace with the Readers. Tell me everything.”