“No, that’s not our name.” She gestures between us. “We’re both called Meimi, only we got a split up. I remember some stuff about our past. You pretty much know zip.”
“I know Mom and I lived here,” I offer. “Maybe my memories are coming back.”
Blue Me shakes her head, tossing her wavy blue hair with the motion. “I brought you here for a reason. Guess who knew the kitchen would bring back a few things? Me.”
I take a half step backward. “So if you brought me here, what do you want?”
“We’re the same person,” replies Blue Me. “So I figure we should team up. Since one of us—that would be me—houses most of our memories, and another one of us—that would be you—has the ability to actually do stuff outside of random dreams, I thought you might have a few ideas.”
My thoughts turn back to my last encounter with Godwin. “I do have one plan. The Authority wants to kill a ton of innocent people.” An image appears in my mind. A woman seated by a window. Mom. She could be on that list of innocents. “I need to stop this by putting together a team.”
Blue Me purses her lips. “We were never really into teaming.”
“But I must protect people from the Authority.” Like Mom.
“While we do this, could we get ourselves set up in ECHO Academy?” asks Blue Me.
“Well, I have no idea yet how I’m doing any of this, but sure. Why not add ECHO Academy to the list?”
Blue Me smiles. “In that case, I’m in. What do you need?”
“Scientists. People I know and can work with.”
“Well, we certainly knew some smart folks in our past life. The ones most likely to help are Chloe, Zoe, and Fritz.”
Closing my eyes, I repeat the list. Chloe, Zoe, and Fritz. “I need to recall those names when I’m awake. How do I get your—I mean our—memories back?”
“I’m working on it.” Blue Me snaps her fingers. “Oh, there’s someone else who might be useful. The Hollow.”
“Seriously?” That’s a shocker. The Hollow is in a maximum security prison and slated for death.
“Think about it,” says Blue Me. “For decades, we were getting a new president every year or so. Then President Hope gets appointed by the Star Council. She’s lasted a whopping three years. The secret to her success was…”
“The Hollow.” I rub my neck, thinking. As a professor at ECHO Academy, the Hollow developed her own cyber implants for grabbing and sharing information. She could be super helpful. “But the Hollow has been declared an undesirable and slated for cleansing. Even President Hope couldn’t save her. I don’t think we can free her for our team.”
Blue Me’s body fades until the back of the kitchen becomes visible through her torso. I gesture toward her. “Something’s wrong with your, uh, you,” I point out.
Holding up her hand, Blue Me scans her skin. “Crud. I’m running out of time.” She returns her focus to me. “I’ll find a way to contact you while you’re awake. Soon.”
With that, Blue Me vanishes entirely.
Sadness envelops me, heavy as a cloak. For the rest of my dream, I float-walk through the chemical factory, scanning through bits of rubble, trying to find any part of my lost memories.
I never do find anything.
6 Meimi
The next morning, I wake up in a crappy little cot. No more fancy-pants hospital. Now I’m locked up in a concrete block of a room. Turning on my side, I find that messages have been scratched into the wall nearest me.
ECHO Academy Underground
Tawana Rines, Chemist, 2219
Ian Rhodes, Drift Scientist, 2226
Jane Fisher, Engineer, 2232
I run my fingers across the letters cut into the concrete. Does this mean what I think it means?
This is the ECHO Academy Underground?
My skin prickles with excitement. The Underground is the most prized assignment for any researcher. The name pretty much gives away the location: a complex of rooms about ninety stories underneath the ECHO campus. But the stuff it contains is amazing. Supposedly, the greatest laboratory in existence can be found down here. Plus, the Simulacrum is here as well—that’s a souped-up hologram generator that can run almost any scientific scenario.
So the tech toys here are cool. The accommodations? Not so much.
I scan the names again. The dates must mark when these scientists left here. But why carve their names in cement?
The answer instantly appears. This is the Authority, after all. I can’t imagine you get a nice pat on the back and a chocolate cake when you’re done being useful. This may very well have been their way of saying goodbye.
I shiver. Hopefully, I won’t be another name on that list.
The door opens with a long squeak. Thorne steps through. It might be the bad lighting in here, but the guy’s skin looks more pale than usual. He’s also trying to hide a limp.
“Good morning,” I say. In reality, I’m not sure if it’s morning, but it feels like the a.m., so I’m going with it.
“Hey.”
Not much of a reply there.
Thorne leans against the wall, staring into nothingness. The warmth in his eyes has disappeared.
Sitting up, I notice I’m no longer wearing my hospital gown. Now I’m in a button-front onesie that says Authority in big red letters. Gray Mary Janes sit on the floor by my bed.
“What’s with my new outfit?” I ask.
“Better than the hospital stuff.”
I tug at the collar of my onesie. “Who changed my clothes?”
No reply.
This guy is tough. Unfortunately, he’s also my only chance for an ally. Maybe I should say something cute or flirty. That could build more bridges.
“If you were the one who touched me, I’ll break all your fingers.”
Oops. That sounded better in my head.
Thorne slices a look in my direction. “Not me. Nurses.”
“Three words.” Smiling, I pat at non-existent tears beneath my eyes. “Wow. I really feel we had a bonding moment there.”
Thorne gives me what might be a wink, but it’s too quick to be sure. He then goes back to staring at the opposite wall.
Boys are so confusing. They should come with a manual.
The door swings open again. This time, it’s Godwin. He must have a closet that’s filled with nothing but lab coats. It’s all the man wears.
Godwin stalks right past me to approach Thorne. “How was the girl overnight?”
My guard’s face stays stony. “Fine.”
I raise my hand. “I slept like I was drugged up, then I awoke in different clothes and in a decidedly prison-cell-like setting. But I’m handling it all pretty well, thanks for asking.”
The doctor keeps talking to Thorne. “Did you deactivate her wrist cuff?”
Thorne nods. “Can’t take it off permanently, though. That would send an alert to Humboldt directly.”
“That’s fine,” states Godwin. “As long as we’re the only ones who can track her.”
I raise my hand again. “I found that last statement to be both creepy and threatening.”
Godwin’s upper lip twitches with anger. Glad to see I’m getting through to the guy. After marching to my bedside, the doctor shoves a data pad at my face. “Review this code. Do you see anything wrong?”
“I take it I’m starting the testing now.” I blink innocently. “Is that right?”
“Of course.” A vein throbs along Godwin’s temple. I take that as a personal victory.
“So,” I continue. “If I take these tests…”
“When you take them,” corrects Godwin.
“We’ll see,” I say. “After the testing stuff, will you then show me your master plan for the Liberation Celebration? Also, when you’re sharing your evil schemes, I’d love it if you threw a good mwah-hah-hah in there. And also-also, please say, we’re not so very different, you and I. After all, if you’re going to play up the evil doctor, don’t go halfway.”
“If you fa
il any of these tests,” snarls Godwin, “I’ll slice your throat myself.”
“And if I pass them?” I ask.
“I will indeed take you to the Simulacrum and reveal my scheme.”
“Okay, I’m in.” I scoop the data pad from his hands.
“As I was saying before,” explains Godwin. “You must review this code. See if you can find any gaps.” A smarmy light shines in the doctor’s button eyes.
No question what that smarm factor is all about. Godwin totally thinks there is absolutely zero wrong with his code.
I scan the rows of tiny symbols. Blaring errors stand out. The mistakes are simply too irritating not to fix, so I open up an editing program and start rewriting.
Godwin leans in. “What are you doing?”
“This code is for powering up a magnetic enhancer,” I explain. “It’s way inefficient. See this start-up sequence? It’s all over the place. You’re sucking up extra rounds of processing time for no reason.” I pause, an idea forming. “Did you try to reverse engineer someone else’s work?”
Godwin’s face turns pink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
In other words, he totally reverse-engineered someone else’s stuff.
I tap the screen. “You can’t calibrate the refraction index until you’ve connected and optimized all the magnetic energy source inputs.” I don’t even end the sentence by saying duh, which I consider another personal accomplishment.
Godwin grabs the data pad from my hand. “That’s can’t be right.” He flips through screen after screen. “I’ll have my men look over this later.”
Which means I’m right.
I try not to smirk. But honestly? I don’t work too hard.
“Anything else for me?” I ask.
Godwin rounds on Thorne. “Hand her the test,” he says. “Just the way we discussed it.”
Thorne marches to the door. A few seconds later, he tromps back with a hefty box balanced in his arms, which he then dumps out onto my bed.
Subtle.
“Assemble this,” orders Godwin.
I debate telling him to ask nicely, but even Godwin has his limits for how much mouth he can handle. Plus, if the guy bursts a blood vessel, I’ll never discover his evil plans.
Focusing on my bed, I pick through the pile of junk. In my mind, the pieces realign and connect. Within minutes, I’ve set the bits together into what looks like a wire octopus.
“This is a magnetic enhancer,” I declare. “It goes with the code you showed before. But you need a bunch of parts to finish it.”
“That’s correct.” Now a second vein pulses angrily atop Godwin’s shiny head.
Someone’s not a happy doctor.
“I’ve many more assessments planned for you,” announces Godwin.
Thus begins a lot of tests that follow a repeated process that goes something like …
Godwin question: What’s this?
My answer: A blueprint for a blabbity blah.
Question: How would you make it better?
Answer: How long do you have?
We repeat this discussion for the following topics: drift void monoliths, quark tracker code, dimensional lenses, and dark matter brackets. Godwin also throws a toaster in there just to be a dick. I fix that, too, just because I can.
Next follows another set of software coding tests, after which we return to the let’s dump crap on Wisteria’s bed routine.
Hours pass. I’m pretty sure a full day goes by, although it’s hard to tell down here. I haven’t eaten a thing. Even so, I refuse to let Godwin see I’m hungry or tired as I assemble yet another pile of junk.
“This is a quantum detector,” I announce. “Again, there are about twenty ways this could be better. Or even deliver basic functionality.”
Godwin’s constellation of head veins still thump away, but he doesn’t say a thing. Over the course of the day, I’ve decided to call them the Poundy Bunch. Not a lot of chances for entertainment down here, so I’m taking my laughs where I can get them.
I clear my throat. “What’s next?”
Thorne glances to Godwin, but my guard doesn’t say a word either. That’s pretty typical for Thorne. It’s like I don’t exist.
Did I dream that wink of his from before?
A theory appears in my mind. Maybe this is early Stockholm syndrome. Thorne is just a muscle-bound douchebag, and I’m tricking myself that he’s more.
I switch my focus to Godwin. Perhaps he’s the one I need to recruit as a helper. The Poundy Bunch start doing extra gross things on his shiny skull.
Thorne it is, then.
“Look,” I say. “We can go around and around on these tests. There are two things you need to know, though. One, I’m hungry.”
Yes, I was going to be badass and pretend I didn’t need a meal. But then I pictured a sandwich.
“Two,” I continue, “until I see your master plan, I won’t really know if I can help you. So, let’s get this over with. Show me your stuff. I’ll tell you how I’ll make it happen. If you like my ideas, we’ll move forward. If you don’t, your goon boy can kill me already. What do you think?”
Godwin’s button eyes narrow to slits. “I hate you.”
“Good.” I narrow-eye right back at him. “I hate you more.”
Hypothesis: that’s the least mature conversation between two scientists, ever.
For a fraction of a moment, an amused grin rounds Thorne’s mouth. There. I’m definitely breaking through to him. It’s that, or Thorne’s on some pain meds for his limp and the high is kicking in.
Either way, I’ll take it. A blank-faced Thorne is a creepy Thorne.
“Follow me,” announces Godwin.
In this moment, it’s a challenge for me not to cheer. I’m one step closer to figuring out how to take down Godwin, save the undesirables, and get my shapely butt out of this prison.
Yay me.
7 Thorne
“The bond between transcendents presses up from the quantum level, is driven by multiple universes and dimensions, and compounds through both force and memory.” – Empress Ophelia, The Lost Book of Transcendents
Godwin leads Meimi down the main corridor. I keep a safe distance behind them, on alert for any sign of threats or danger.
Meanwhile, every corner of my soul wants me to pull my girl into a hug and congratulate her on a job well done. Those tests were impossible, and she aced each one. Plus, Godwin is a sadistic scumbag. No food or water? Who does that? Even so, Meimi kept pushing the doctor’s buttons. More than once, I almost burst out laughing. Fortunately, my body’s still healing from the fight with Cole. Nothing like pain to help you keep a straight face.
At the end of the cement hallway, there stands a small silver door. Like everywhere down here, the security is minimal. It takes about a dozen checkpoints to reach ninety-some levels underground. No one is down here who doesn’t belong.
Stepping across the threshold, we enter the control chamber for the Simulacrum. Basically, this is a massive concrete box of a room. It’s empty as well. There are no chairs or tables, only a small podium in the center of the floor which serves as a small control tower.
Godwin pauses before the podium. After cracking his knuckles, he taps instructions onto the plat panel display atop the console.
“Come here,” orders Godwin. “Both of you.”
Meimi and I step closer, pausing behind Godwin. He gestures around him. “This is the Simulacrum. You can think of it as my play room for testing different scientific theories and scenarios.”
“Do I have to?” asks Meimi.
Godwin doesn’t answer, but his head vein starts pulsing again. It’s getting harder not to laugh.
“I’ve spent many hours here,” continues Godwin. “My plans for the Liberation Celebration are all loaded into the Simulacrum as a detailed hologram. You two will be the first to see the scheme in full.” He shoots me a sly look. “Not that some of us will understand it all.”
In Godwin’s mind, I’m nothing but muscle. Which is hilarious. Back on my home planet, I’m considered more of a bookworm than a warrior. It’s said that I can recount a quote for any occasion. Maybe I can.
Godwin taps the control console once more. The surface of the podium transforms. Before, the control panel looked sleek and dark. Now the structure melts and twists. Within seconds, it becomes a series of delicate cords that gently shift and writhe.
A jolt of shock moves up y spine. I know that tech.
Filaments.
It’s Umbran technology.
As the royal family, we often visit other worlds. But we’re forbidden to leave any instruments behind, especially filament tech. It’s an important rule; leaving filaments behind could derail a society’s natural development.
So how did filaments end up here?
My mind spins through possibilities. Years ago, my father contacted Rose and Truman Archer for help. Both of them worked here at ECHO Academy. Maybe my father left this console behind. It’s odd, but possible.
“Did you create this?” I ask. Because Umbran filaments took our sentient millions of years to develop.
Godwin lifts his chin. “Who else could have done it?”
Which isn’t saying that he created the filaments. Even so, the implication is clear. This is my invention. Godwin so desperately wants to be a genius. But after spending a few weeks with the guy, I’ve only seen him display gifts for cruelty and lies, in that order.
Godwin gestures to the control panel before him. The filaments still twist and sway in a gentle rhythm. “This is also the master containment system for the Lacerator.”
That gets my attention.
Everyone’s heard of the Lacerator. It’s Godwin’s most famous attack animal. Although it isn’t really an animal. Since I’m Umbran, I know the Lacerator’s what we call a sentient swarm. Those are unique groups of particles that operate as a hive mind. They often roam the omniverse.
That said, I’ve never heard of a swarm getting trapped before.
Reaching into the writhing filaments, Godwin pulls out a long rectangular container from the console’s center. Turns out, the box he removes is also made from the same shifting filaments. Sentient swarms often rest in containers like these; we call them nests. Somehow Godwin got his hands on the Lacerator’s home. Strange.
Alien Minds: Dimension Drift, Book 1 Page 4
