“You are a wise man, Jack.” Desmond sounded pleased. “Now, stay on the phone. All you have to do is exactly what I tell you. Are you ready?”
“Ready.”
“Walk over to the cell door and open it.”
This is ridiculous, Jack thought, but he walked over to the cell and tried to slide the door open. Surprisingly, it slid back easily. “What now?” Jack asked, as the hairs on his neck stood up.
“Open the door to the hall.”
Jack went to the door of the room and was about to reach for the handle, “There’s no handle on this side of the door.”
“Whoops, sorry,” Desmond said. “There. How about now?”
To Jack’s amazement, when he looked back down at the door there was a knob. “How the hell?”
“Now, open the door and walk out. No one will see you. Meet me outside.”
The line went dead. Jack tried to find a pocket on his bright orange jumpsuit to put the phone in before realizing that it didn’t have one. As he thought about what to do with the phone, it vanished from his hand.
This is fucking nuts. Not just the phone’s vanishing act, but he was also not at all confident about just walking out of a federal holding facility in, he presumed, downtown New York. But what other choice did he have?
He opened the door and was about to step out into the hallway when Nixon walked by. Nixon looked straight at him.
Jack froze, terrified. Not terrified of Nixon, but of being caught. It was a strange thing, he considered, to not fear the man, but to fear the power behind the man. Jack remained frozen in the doorway and watched as Nixon kept on walking as if he hadn’t seen Jack standing there at all. Am I losing it? Jack wondered, but he followed Nixon down the hall, growing a little more confident with each step.
He passed other agents in the hall who, like Nixon, walked right past Jack, either not seeing him or not caring. I wish I had a vid of this, he thought, me in a bright orange inmate suit, walking around free as a bird among the FBI’s finest. Jack chuckled at the thought.
Ahead of him, Nixon paused, turning around.
Jack froze in his tracks. Shit, he must have heard me. Whether Nixon had heard Jack or not, he turned back around and continued down the hall, turning left toward the elevators.
Jack took the hallway to the stairs and ran down four flights. He then went through the lobby and out the front doors. No one paid him any attention.
A Lot Bigger Than You Think
Jack merged into the flow of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. Not having a destination, he thought it best to put some distance between himself and the FBI building he had just escaped from.
He walked a couple of blocks and was about to queue up for the hover train when a hand on his shoulder pulled him back.
“Not yet, Jack.”
Jack whirled around in self-defense mode, ready for anything. It was Desmond. The mysterious man hadn’t changed his appearance since Jack had first seen him in the Chinese restaurant. He still wore a hat and trench coat, like some ancient private eye.
“Why the hell not?” Jack wanted to know.
“Because look at the way you’re dressed. That’s why.”
Jack looked down to see the bright orange jumpsuit. “Oh, yeah. Wait, I thought people couldn’t see me.”
“They can’t, but it would be rather tiring for me to keep up this little trick forever. Would you mind terribly if we bought you a change of clothes before we continue?” Desmond didn’t wait for a reply, but stepped into a department store on their side of the street.
They bought a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt and Desmond had him change into them. Jack had just finished changing when he shuddered, feeling a brief chill come over him.
“What was that?” Jack asked.
“People being able to see you again,” Desmond said. “As I said, I was growing tired of keeping you invisible. People should see you and enjoy the sight of you, just as much as I do.” Desmond had a smile on his face.
“Ha-ha,” Jack replied dryly, not finding the sarcasm very funny. “So… about that explanation…”
“Of course. Let’s step into my office, shall we?”
Jack looked around on the sidewalk, then back at Desmond like the man was crazy. Desmond kept smiling as he turned the corner down an alleyway. Jack followed, turning the corner in time to see Desmond open a door on the side of a building.
Jack was puzzled. It was the strangest place for a door. In fact, if they walked through it, they should end up in the middle of a furniture store’s show room.
Jack walked up to the door that Desmond was holding open for him and looked inside. It was completely dark. Looking back at Desmond for an explanation, all Jack got was a shrug.
“Come on, let’s go.” Desmond gave Jack a gentle shove on the back. When they had crossed through, the door closed behind them.
Jack examined his new surroundings, forgetting that he had just been in an alley in the middle of New York City, and now he was god knows where.
He was in an office. It was dark except for the light coming from a lamp sitting on the desk. The desk was strange. It was made out of wood, but there were no boards, or seams, or nails, or screws that Jack could see.
Desmond saw him trying to piece everything together. “It was grown that way.”
Jack looked up. “Huh?”
“The desk, it was grown into that shape. That’s why you don’t see any seams. It’s a single piece of wood.” Desmond sat down in the chair behind the desk and the chair began to move. It changed shape to fit the exact proportions of Desmond’s frame. Desmond motioned for Jack to take the other chair. “Sit.”
Jack sat warily, waiting for the chair to move, but nothing happened. He looked to Desmond for an explanation.
Desmond chuckled, like a parent does watching a child at play. “The chair responds to your thoughts. It molds itself to fit the image in your brain of how the chair should feel. Obviously, you liked your chair fine, just the way it looked to you.”
Jack began to experiment, picturing different kinds of chairs, couches, and benches, but nothing was happening.
“Why isn’t it working?” Jack asked.
“Don’t blame the chair, Jack. You’re just not thinking in the right way.”
“How the hell is the right way?” Jack shot back. The chair beneath him shivered, like a frightened dog.
“Jack, be nice. You’re scaring him.”
Jack shot out of his seat and stared back at the suspect chair. “What kinda place is this?!”
“I’ll get to that. First, Jack, please sit down. This time I want you to imagine the way you’d feel if you were lying in a hammock on the beach.”
Jack sat back down and closed his eyes. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes again.
“Jack you’re just thinking about it, you’re not imagining it. Here, let me help you.”
Jack closed his eyes once more. All of a sudden he sensed a foreign presence in his mind, pulling strings and twisting knobs. In his mind’s eye, Jack was suddenly on a beach. It was like he was dreaming. It felt like he was actually there.
He turned around, investigating his new surroundings. Sure enough, there was a hammock, tied up between two palm trees.
“Now, walk over and sit down on it,” Desmond said.
Jack did just that, sinking down onto the netting, swaying in the breeze like a leaf in the wind.
“Now, open your eyes, Jack.”
Jack opened his eyes to find himself reclining back in the chair that had changed to the exact shape of the hammock in his mind.
“That’s incredible!” Jack said. “How does it do that?”
“The chairs are alive, so to speak,” Desmond said. “That is to say, they have a brain and a body. But they work more like a pet. They exist to serve us.”
“Isn’t that a bit like slavery?” Jack asked, sitting up in his chair. The chair changed shape again to compensate.
“Are the cells
in your body slaves? Or are they free to leave? Free to do as they wish?” Desmond replied. “Think of them more as symbionts, living together with us in a mutually beneficial way. They are not unlike your computers or cars or flying machines. We just have a different interface. Everything in this universe exists in relationship with everything else. It’s give and take.”
“This universe? So, we just…” Jack wondered if there was any end in sight to the strangeness of everything in his life lately.
Desmond nodded. “When we walked through the door, we switched verses. There are many, but not all verses support human existence. In our verse, we evolved differently than any of the others that we have discovered. We’re telepaths, and there are those among us that have other abilities as well—we can affect the physical world around us with our minds. That’s how I got the phone in your cell, and why no one saw you, and why Kid didn’t see me at your apartment. Well, actually, I wasn’t at your apartment, that’s why Kid didn’t see me, but...”
“Wait! What do you mean, you weren’t at my apartment? Where the hell were you then?”
“I was in your head. And actually, if you want to get technical, the phone in your cell was in your head too. See, I can cause things to seem real to other people, just by thinking them, and I can also hear other people’s thoughts, most people in the Sixth can. Only a select group of us are telekinetic though.”
“Back up a sec... The Sixth?” Jack asked.
“Sorry, the Sixth as in the sixth universe. It’s a nickname of sorts. For instance, you came from the Fifth.”
“Just how many universes are there?”
“That’s a tricky question. Technically there are an infinite number, but there are seven in the MultiVerse. The first two are nothing but wastelands. The Earths there have been decimated by some sort of cataclysmic event. Perhaps a combination of meteor strikes and earthquakes, we’re not really sure. Then there’s the Third, the Fourth, the Fifth, the Sixth, and the Seventh, which came up with the brilliant naming system. But to be fair, they did introduce us to the other verses. If it hadn’t been for them, we never would have discovered how to travel between worlds.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, this is all a little much to take in.” Jack sat back, rubbing his temples. He could feel another headache coming on.
“I can help you with that, if you want. You know, take the pain away, or rather, show you how to take the pain away,” Desmond offered.
Apparently, Jack could feel the headache coming on a little too strongly. “Wait a second, you sensed that?” Jack couldn’t decide if he was upset or impressed. He felt like screaming, just to let some of the pressure in his head out.
“You sent it, I just picked it up.”
“What do you mean, I sent it? I suppose next, you’ll be saying that all of this is my fault.”
Desmond paused for a moment, considering how best to go about the business at hand. “Relax, Jack, I’m not saying that at all. All I’m saying is that at the most basic level, every human is telepathic. Most people just don’t know it, or don’t know how to use it if they do know it. It’s like having a comm in your pocket, but not realizing it’s there, or once realizing, not knowing how to turn it on and make a call.”
“You mean to tell me that I can hear people’s thoughts? Like some kind of mind reader, or something?”
“You can hear most thoughts that someone sends to you—for instance, like the thoughts I sent you at your apartment. That’s why Kid didn’t see me, because I only sent it to you.” Desmond took a deep breath, pausing. There was so much to catch Jack up on. “The hard part is sending, anyone can receive.”
“Well, it can’t be that hard if I just sent to you,” Jack said, still confused.
“But you didn’t send it to me, Jack.”
“Then how did you hear it?”
“How could I not? You practically screamed it at me.” Desmond leaned back in his chair. He appeared to be thinking about something. Jack, I’m going to order some tea, would you like some?
“Yes, I’d love some.” Tea sounded fantastic. And then it dawned on him. Desmond’s lips hadn’t moved, yet Jack had heard him, clear as day. “This is really strange.”
“Yes, of course. Let’s just relax for a moment. The tea will be here shortly. I think you’ll find it to your liking, and then we’ll just let everything sink in.”
The tea arrived a few minutes later by way of what Jack could only assume was a waiter. Maybe he was a servant or a butler. The man carrying the tea tray was tall, wearing a finely tailored suit, his hair slicked back like a European fashion model. He moved with a grace about him that Jack was instantly envious of.
“Thank you,” Desmond said. “You can set that down here.” He’s not human, Jack. He just appears to be. Think of him as a more mobile, versatile version of the chair. Some of us call them mimes, some refer to them as reps—short for replicas. They provide the services and do the jobs in our society that very few humans would do if given the choice.
“Very good, sir,” the mime replied. “Will there be anything else?”
Desmond gave Jack a questioning glance, and receiving no reply from him said, “I think we’re all set here, thanks.”
The mime left the room by the same door that Jack had entered. Jack wondered if the door led back out into the alley in New York, but, somehow, he doubted it.
“In fact, it doesn’t,” Desmond said. “Sorry, I keep doing that. I’m sure it must be very strange and alien to you. To have someone responding to your thoughts and not just what you say.”
Desmond poured the tea into two cups, adding a spoonful of honey to his own. “Any for you?”
“No, it’s fine as it is. Thanks.” Jack took the offered cup of tea and tasted it. “Mmm, this is great.” The tea cup bore a strange resemblance to the set that Jack’s grandmother used to pour him tea from when he was a young boy.
“I’m glad you like it.” Desmond stood, walking around the desk and out to the edge of the dark office gazing at what appeared to be the wall. Jack realized that it was, in fact, a window. One large window that wrapped around in a large arc to encompass most of Desmond’s office. “Come. Have a look.”
Jack stood next to him and gazed out the window. It was night, of course, wherever they were. Jack could see a vast city sprawling below, covered in lights and dazzling architecture. Lights whizzed above the city’s streets, and Jack realized they must have been this place’s version of hovers. Most were moving too fast to see well in the darkness.
“Where are we?”
“This is my home, Cairo, the capital of the Sixth.” Desmond stared off into the night as if searching for answers. “This is what I’m trying to protect.”
“Protect from who?” Jack asked. He was still a little fuzzy over the details of just which side was which and who was who. Not that it mattered that much. He’d already made up his mind that whoever was responsible for Kid’s abduction was the enemy.
“But is it that simple, Jack?” Desmond had been reading his thoughts again, or maybe Jack was still shouting them. He needed to learn how to conceal his thoughts, and soon, for his own sanity, as much as the sanity of those around him.
“To answer your question, though, the people who have taken Kid are from the Seventh—they are the ones who I must protect my people from.” Desmond had an earnest look about him that warmed Jack’s heart and chilled it all the same. He’d seen that same look in the eyes of hundreds of soldiers, policemen, and firemen.
“We used to be friendly, if not friends.” Desmond turned away from the window, pausing before he walked to the chair at his desk and sat down. “We discovered each other’s civilizations hundreds of years ago, back when both our worlds were much younger. We started as cautious friends with wary borders. We set up joint task forces to explore the rest of the known verses, but, slowly, distrust grew. And despite our best efforts, relations unraveled.”
Jack sank into his own seat and listened to th
e rest of Desmond’s tale.
“Years passed, each side growing more distant, less trusting, and less willing to share information. We closed our borders first. I tried to tell our people that it would only increase the downward spiral between our two worlds, but only a handful of elders listened—not enough to do anything about it.
The Seventh followed suit, deporting our people back to the Sixth. A few from both verses were allowed to stay behind. Those few Sixes and Sevens who had started families together and, of course, our ambassadors. There was no bloodshed at the start of it, but things continued to worsen.”
Jack opened his mouth to ask a question, but Desmond continued on, answering it before Jack had the chance to get any sound out. “This was almost three hundred years ago.”
“Holy shit, man! How old are you?” Jack had heard of life extension, but this was beyond his ability to grasp. Back in his time-line, even with the latest in scientific achievements, the longest-lived humans were barely two-hundred years old.
“Let’s just say that I’ve seen a few things and leave it at that for now, shall we?” Desmond said, changing the subject.
“Jeez, I thought women from my verse were secretive about their age…”
Desmond took the jest in stride and continued, “Back when we first closed the borders, there was a woman from the Seventh, Julia White. She was an Ambassador to the Sixth, who left our Verse to return home so she could convince her people to stop the foolishness of what was going on. She was my counterpart to her own people, trying to keep the paranoia in check. She failed, as did I.” Desmond stared off into the distance, reliving some other life in some other time.
“Had a thing for her, did ya?” Jack smiled knowingly.
Desmond returned from whatever far off land he had been momentarily living in. “Once upon a time, but no longer. Julia has since risen to the position of Prime Minister in the Seventh, and I have little doubt that she’s behind what’s happened to Kid.”
“No offense to you or your people’s conflict with the Seventh, Desmond, but I just wanna get Kid back. After that, you can just drop us off where you found us.”
Strangers and Shadows Page 9
