Seams in Reality

by Alex Siegel

  "Careful. I'm still holding a gun."

  "I'm right," Andrew said with growing confidence. "If I'm not, go ahead and shoot me." He swelled his chest.

  Tonya pulled the trigger. For an instant, he was sure he was going to die, but the gun just clicked. It wasn't loaded. Sudden weakness in his knees almost made him fall to the floor.

  "Well done," she said. "It was a test of ethics, judgment, and courage."

  She handed the gun to Frank, and he put it in his jacket pocket.

  "I'll tell the guys outside the show is over." He left the house.

  "Was that really your husband?" Andrew said.

  Tonya shook her head. "No, thank God. He's just somebody I have to work with. I live alone."

  He looked over at Charley who was grinning from ear to ear. She had been in on the game from the beginning. Her acting job had completely fooled him. Once again, he was the chump.

  The elaborate scenario had gone far beyond a mere trick though. Several men in costume had participated, and the guns had looked real. Tonya had even gone to the trouble of planting fake blueprints in a hidden compartment.

  Andrew turned back to her. "Is that it?" he said angrily. "Are we done with the crazy tests? I can't believe I have to go through all this for a scholarship. What happened to just filling out an application? Something else must be going on."

  She raised her eyebrows. "You're right. There is something else, and no, we're not done. You have the most important test of all next, and you'll finally get some answers. Come. We have to go back to the Fine Arts Building."

  He sighed with frustration. He swore to himself he wouldn't look like a fool again. He would go into the next test with open eyes and a suspicious mind.

  Tonya, Charley, and Andrew went back out into the chilly night. The cool air helped calm him down. His legs still felt funny, and his neck was stiff from tension. That experience had been the most intense of his life.

  "I can't believe you hired those guys just to test me," he said.

  "I didn't hire them," Tonya said.

  "They weren't real FBI agents."

  "Not FBI, at least."

  Andrew waited for her to say more, but she fell silent instead.

  He frowned. "Tell me one thing at least. How did you make that ball appear in my glass?"

  "Simple. Charley dropped it in while you were looking at me."

  Andrew turned to Charley and felt his face grow warm.

  She patted him on the arm. "Relax. It was all good fun."

  "Fun for you," he said bitterly.

  "It will be worth it. Trust me."

  He frowned.

  It took just a few minutes to reach the Fine Arts Building. They went down into the basement, and at first, Andrew thought they would go to Tonya's office. She went a different way instead. They arrived at the darkest, dingiest corner of the entire building. A fluorescent fixture buzzed and flickered. A spider web in the corner was big enough to catch a mouse.

  A steel door was there. It had a sophisticated electronic lock which looked very out of place in the setting. Tonya punched in a long passcode, and Andrew heard several heavy bolts slide back. She used both hands to pull the door open.

  He had a strange feeling of excitement, and it wasn't from nervousness. Something was behind that door. The hallway had a sharp, electric edge. His thoughts came quicker, and his awareness was expanding in odd ways.

  I like this feeling, he thought. I like it a lot.

  The group went inside. Two men wearing blue business suits were sitting in a small antechamber. They openly carried compact assault rifles which could fit under their jackets. Andrew's eyes widened in alarm.

  "Give us a half-hour," Tonya said.

  The men nodded and left. She closed the heavy door with a thud.

  "Who were they?" Andrew said.

  "Guards. Somebody has to watch the place when I'm not here."

  "Why?"

  "To keep out the riff-raff," Tonya said.

  She walked into the next room and turned on a light. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of plain concrete. There were no windows, and the only openings were small ventilation ducts. It was as secure as a prison cell.

  The room was furnished with chairs and tables. The chairs had nice, thick cushions, and Andrew wanted to sit on one. Hundreds of odd items filled shelves along the walls. He saw blocks of wood, pieces of metal, clocks, children's toys, puzzles, jars, and many things he couldn't even identify.

  "What is this place?"

  "It's very special," Tonya said. "Can you feel it?"

  Andrew turned his head and furrowed his brow. "Yes. It's like the air is... hot and greasy. The colors are brighter. My brain is tingling. What does that mean?"

  "It means you're very sensitive, but I expected that in a man with your talent, intelligence, and blood lines. We're going to play a few games now. I need to gauge precisely how sensitive you are."

  "Are you going to trick me again?"

  She smiled. "If I can. Let's start with something simple."

  She walked over to a shelf and picked up a coin from a pile. It appeared to be a silver dollar with an eagle on one side. She held it a few feet in front of his face between two fingers. With her other hand, she flicked the coin and made it spin. It continued to spin as if driven by a motor.

  "What the hell?" Andrew said.

  Tonya winked and let go of the coin. It hovered in the air, still spinning. He looked closely but couldn't see any strings.

  He gasped. "That's impossible!"

  "Obviously. Now tell me what's really going on. You can look, but keep your hands away."

  Andrew stared at the spinning coin. The shiny surface reflected the light into his eyes, and the effect was hypnotic.

  "Some kind of magnet?"

  Tonya shook her head. "No."

  "Strings?"

  "Don't insult me." She moved her right arm around the coin on all sides. "We're done with ordinary parlor tricks. Look closer."

  He studied the coin carefully and began to notice flaws. The spinning motion was a little jerky like a video game with an uneven frame rate. The coin had no scratches in its surface. It was too perfect.

  "It's a hologram," Andrew said. He looked around but couldn't see a laser.

  "Close," Tonya said. "Keep guessing."

  He waved his hand in front of the coin and was astonished. He could still see it even with his hand in the way. It was like he had X-ray vision. He closed his eyes, and the coin continued to spin in the darkness. Understanding hit him hard.

  "It's in my mind!" He opened his eyes and stared at her. "What did you do to me? Hypnotize me?"

  The coin vanished.

  "Not hypnosis," she said. "I was hoping you'd figure it out a little quicker. I'll give you a 'B' for that test. Let's try something else."

  "No!" He shook his head violently. "No more tests! No more tricks! Tell me what's going on."

  "I'm the instructor here. I'll decide when the testing is complete."

  Andrew looked at Charley. She gave him an encouraging smile but kept her mouth closed.

  He decided he had been pushed far enough. He turned towards the door.

  A wall of flame forced him back, and the heat was so intense, he checked to make sure his clothes hadn't caught fire. He suddenly felt great fear. Tonya had real power and wasn't afraid to use it. Even though he didn't understand what was happening, he knew he couldn't fight her.

  "The next test will force you to use your talent," she said, "not just your brain. Charley, turn off the lights. We're going to play tag in the dark."

  Charley glanced at Andrew anxiously. She hit a switch on the wall, and the room became pitch black. He couldn't even see his hands in front of his face.

  "Now Andrew," Tonya said, "Charley has the same kind of talent as you. This place magnifies your abilities enormously, enough that you should be able to sense where she is without any training. Go ahead and touch her."

  He had no idea wha
t she was talking about. He was completely blind, and the sound of his own heartbeat prevented him from hearing Charley. If he took a step, he would probably walk into the furniture.

  "You've been suppressing your power your whole life," Tonya said. "You instinctively knew it would set you apart and frighten others. It even frightened you. At some level, you weren't ready to deal with it. You're ready now, and in this place, you have no choice. Stop fighting. Open your inner eye."

  Andrew slowed his breathing and tried to be calm. To his amazement, he began to perceive something. He couldn't rely on his normal senses, so he was forced to use deeper abilities which were now coming to life.

  "Wait!" Andrew said. "There's a shape. It's like a frozen lightning bolt in the middle of the room. It's pulsing. I think it's angry."

  "That's the seam," Tonya said. "It's what makes this place so special. You're doing well. Keep looking."

  He smiled and pressed harder on his newfound ability. He was as excited as a kid with a new bike. Apparently, Tonya wasn't the only one with strange powers.

  "There are points floating around the seam. They remind me of fireflies."

  "We call them sprites," she said. "You always find them near seams. I'm impressed, but you still haven't found Charley. Her energy should be easy for you to detect using raw talent alone."

  Andrew focused on Tonya and discovered he could sense her too. A silent storm of black mist surrounded her. The stuff was slippery and thick, and it seemed to burrow through space itself. He didn't see it as much as feel its exotic mass. Only his inner eye could perceive the mist at all. He was intimidated but intrigued at the same time.

  Finally, he detected Charley. Her power was weaker than Tonya's but still substantial. The way the black energy swirled around her slim body was fascinating. It pulsed like blood flowing through arteries. He walked over with his hands in front to feel for furniture, and he touched her.

  "Good job," Tonya said happily. "You get an 'A' that time."

  Charley turned the lights back on. Andrew blinked in the sudden brightness.

  "There had better be a good explanation for all this freaky stuff," he said.

  "There is." Tonya nodded. "I'll tell you a story. In 1830, many Native Americans died here."

  "I know."

  "Hush. I'm talking. It was pure butchery. The Indians were surprised, and the US Army overran the entire village in minutes, but one of the Indians was a sorcerer. He may not have known it, but he certainly had the talent."

  Andrew raised his eyebrows. "A wizard?"

  "We prefer the word 'sorcerer.' It sounds more dignified. You, Charley, and I are all sorcerers. Welcome to the club."

  He wanted to tell her she was crazy, but he knew she was right. He had felt the power in himself. The word fit perfectly, and he was proud to wear it.

  "That Native American sorcerer gathered up all the anger, fear, hatred, and anguish around him," Tonya said. "His talent amplified it and transformed it into a psychic bomb. At that moment, a soldier ran a sword through the sorcerer's chest. He died on this exact spot." She pointed at the floor. "And the bomb exploded."

  The seam was there, and now Andrew could sense it even with the lights on. It was like an invisible lion roaring with silent rage. An act of unspeakable violence had created it.

  "The explosion couldn't be seen by ordinary eyes," she said, "but it still had a profound effect. The walls of the universe cracked."

  "How is that possible?"

  "Human minds interact with the world in interesting ways, and sorcerers take it to the next level. We bend reality with our thoughts. Our beliefs have tangible power."

  "Oh," Andrew said. "We can make things happen just by thinking hard?"

  "In essence, but of course, it's much more complicated than that. There are specific techniques. It will take years for you to learn all the nuances, and we can't perform magic anywhere we want. We must apply pressure where the universe is already weak. Seams supply us with the special energy we need. In modern lingo, they allow us to 'hack' the world."

  "What kinds of magic can we do? Can we change stuff?"

  "A little."

  Tonya walked over to a shelf and picked up a bar of lead. She stroked the metal with her fingers, and after a few seconds, it became golden. An inner sense told him she wasn't casting another illusion. She was actually turning lead into real gold.

  She put the bar down, and it reverted to lead. "But our main powers are more mental than physical. You saw flames earlier. Were they real? You felt the heat. To you, they seemed real enough to prevent you from walking through them. You believed. That's what matters."

  "Where does the energy come from?" Andrew said.

  "Enough questions. We need to finish the test." She faced him. "Let's do your final exam now."

  Charley whimpered.

  Tonya frowned. "What's wrong?"

  "Do I have to watch?"

  "Of course. It's educational."

  "But what if..." Charley gave Andrew a fearful look.

  "That's educational, too," Tonya said.

  Andrew's positive feelings evaporated into fear. "Will this be dangerous?"

  "Yes." She gave him a stern look. "If you fail... well, it was nice knowing you."

  His eyes widened. He turned and sprinted for the door, intending to run through fire if necessary to escape, but he pulled up short. The door was gone. There was just a concrete wall.

  "Let me explain something," Tonya said. "This is my seam, my property, my place of power. I have absolute control here. I make the rules. No other sorcerer can defy me, certainly not a raw novice like you. You'll leave when I give you permission to leave. Am I clear?"

  Andrew turned back to her and gulped. "Yes."

  "Good."

  She walked over to a shelf and pulled away a large piece of silk. Underneath, there was a sword, a knife, a jar of brown liquid, and a pair of steel gloves. The latter looked like the gauntlets a knight might wear.

  "This is an ancient ritual," Tonya said. "I suffered through it, and so did my master and his master. Charley did it, too. Put these on."

  She gave the gloves to Andrew. He forced his hands inside, and the fit was uncomfortably tight. He hoped he wouldn't have to wear the gloves for long.

  She gave him the sword next. It was a big, heavy hunk of steel with a rusty blade. The weapon had a medieval design, and he could make out engravings under the rust. He grabbed the long handle with two hands because he couldn't hold the weapon up with just one.

  "Your task is simple," Tonya said. "Don't let go of the sword. You'll live as long as you maintain a firm grip."

  The test didn't seem hard to Andrew, but he expected there was a catch.

  She opened the jar of brown liquid. With great care, she dipped the knife into the sticky, glistening goo, coating the tip. She walked over and held the tip near his throat.

  "This is concentrated scorpion venom," she said. "One little nick will kill you. If you drop the sword or try to run, I'll bury the knife in your throat."

  He kept very still. "Is this really necessary?"

  "Control is the most important element of good sorcery. If we don't master the magic, it masters us, and the result is chaos and death. Our feelings and reactions can betray us. Our fears are our worst enemy. If you can't demonstrate total control, I'm better off killing you now and saving everybody the trouble of doing it later."

  Andrew's arms were already getting tired from holding the sword.

  "How long do I have to hold it?" he said.

  "Five minutes is typical. A man of your breeding should be able to do six." Tonya smiled, but the expression wasn't nice at all. She checked her watch.

  He felt an odd tingle in his hands. His palms began to itch lightly at first, then painfully. The steel pressed against his skin was getting hot.

  "Are you going to burn me?" Andrew said in a fearful tone.

  Tonya moved the knife closer to his throat. "Don't let go of the sword."

&
nbsp; The pain became intense. He was sure his hands were being cooked alive, and he desperately wanted to throw off the gauntlets. He took deep breaths in an effort to calm himself.

  "Is this another trick?" he said. "An illusion like the spinning coin?"

  She leaned forward. "Does it matter? Believe what you want. Either way, you still have to hold the sword."

  Tears were dripping down Andrew's cheeks, and his body was shaking. He moaned like a wounded animal. He had never felt this kind of pain, but somehow, he kept his grip.

  He looked over at Charley. She was grimacing, and her eyes were half-closed. The smooth skin on her hands didn't show any burn scars.

  "Charley took this test?" Andrew said.

  Tonya nodded. "A year and a half ago."

  "Then it's definitely an illusion," he said. "It's all in my head."

  The steel gauntlets glowed red, and he could feel heat on his face. Illusion or not, the pain was excruciating. It was easy to picture his flesh burning off his bones.

  He reached down deep and found strength he didn't know he had. It's just a trick, he thought. A blend of imagination and fear. I'm still in control. She won't beat me this time.

  Andrew clenched his jaw and glared at Tonya defiantly. The gauntlets were white hot now. He smelled smoke, and his shirt caught fire. Flames spread across his body, but he just clamped down harder.

  "Perception and reality," she said calmly. "Is there a difference? Where is the line drawn? Philosophers have debated the question for millennia, and it is the keystone of sorcery. In this room, the line is very blurry."

  Suddenly, it was over. The fire and pain were gone, and the gauntlets were made of cold steel again. Andrew exhaled and almost collapsed to the floor.

  Tonya checked her watch. "Six minutes. Excellent."

  She started putting everything away. Andrew yanked the cursed gauntlets off his hands and inspected his skin for injury. His hands were pink from clenching, but otherwise, they looked normal.

  "Are you going to teach me how to do that?" he said.

  "Of course, but illusions are easy. It's just a matter of forcing your beliefs onto somebody else. You'll learn that skill quickly. Making real, physical changes to the world is much more difficult. It will take a year or two of training before you can even attempt that."