The Left Hand of Memory (Redlisted)

by Sara Beaman

  Faces tinged red with rage flash into my mind’s eye, too many to track, although I recognize a few: Carlyle. Himeros. Mnemosyne. Richard. Julian. Aya. Haruko. Jennifer. Tara. Vincent. Mark. Tamika. Liliana. Jessica.

  My own face.

  And Kate’s face.

  I pull the trigger.

  For an instant I feel like my own heart is exploding. I cry out in agony.

  And then Mirabel’s mind goes silent. The pulsating web disappears. She collapses forward, into the deep pool. It swallows her.

  Dumbfounded, I drop the gun. Did that happen? No. This must be a dream, an illusion, wish fulfillment of some kind. There’s no way Mirabel is actually dead. Turning my gaze inward, I reach for a space above the crown of my head, trying to come up from whatever this is, to break back into reality.

  Nothing happens. Someone must be keeping me under. Maybe Mirabel can do that. Yes—that must be it. Otherwise—

  The surface of the deep pool ripples, then crashes against the ground, overflowing. Black tendrils reach out from below the surface. The tendrils extend upwards and outwards, writhing and coiling around one another into an animate black mass that glimmers with faint prismatic color, like an oil slick. The ground around the pool caves in. I stagger backwards a few steps, still too overwhelmed to turn and run.

  A single tendril lashes out, spiraling around my right arm with a touch that feels colder than liquid nitrogen. I struggle to pull myself free, but it’s too late. The whole limb goes completely numb. I watch in mindless shock as my hand and forearm simply cease to exist. This is not a dream, not a vision. The unreality is real.

  I take off at a sprint for the stairs.

  Amputate

  As I go to slip between the double doors, I look up to see a column of tentacles emerge from the clearing, oil-slick black, writhing erratically. By instinct alone, I know exactly what I’m looking at. The Mutable. Soon it will have hundreds of mouths full of thousands of teeth.

  I turn back to Julian. Close your eyes, I command him. Get on your knees and put yourself to sleep.

  He squeezes his eyes shut and falls to his knees, then onto his side in the cold dirt.

  “What the hell?” Janice says, looking down at Julian’s limp body.

  I don’t want to waste another second. I slip between the double doors and start running down the shallow stairs, looking towards the center of the pit, at the black tree of tendrils spiraling hypnotically skyward. Whatever happened down there, it seems less likely than ever that Adam is still alive. There’s nothing more we can do. I slow to a stop, unable to will myself to keep going.

  Just then, on the other side of the pit, he emerges from behind the shadow of the tentacles. He’s running towards me, up the staircase.

  “Adam!” I shout. “You’re alive!“

  “Kate?” he calls out, looking around, confused.

  I will myself to break Richard's illusion, to become visible again. I rush to meet Adam as he stumbles up the stairs, staggering as if he’s drunk, holding his right arm behind his body. He crashes into the wall and falls to his knees. I reach down to help him stand.

  “No! Kate, don’t touch me!” he says. “My arm…”

  He pulls his right arm into view. Everything below his elbow is gone. His bicep is dripping with some kind of black ooze.

  “Dear God, what happened?”

  “I shot Mirabel,” he says.

  “You shot—?“

  A crash interrupts me as one of the tentacles whips out at the staircase, obliterating a huge chunk of the stone structure just a few yards behind Adam. The space around the newly-formed hole shimmers darkly. I watch in slack-jawed confusion as the shadow starts eating away at the surrounding stone and earth.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing his left hand. “We need to get back to Alice.”

  We sprint up the shallow stairs. The darkness of night seems to be thickening, congealing. Lighting up my free hand like a torch, I squeeze through the stone doors. Adam follows right behind.

  “Adam?” Richard says. “Kate, what happened?”

  “I don’t know—“

  “You don’t know?” Richard's voice is hoarse. “What are you doing back here? What about Mirabel?”

  “She’s dead,” Adam says.

  “She’s dead?”

  Adam nods vacantly. “I shot her.” He sways like he might fall over.

  “What happened to his arm?” Janice asks.

  Adam’s eyes go glassy. He slumps against me, his body totally limp. I barely manage to catch him by the armpits before he falls to the ground.

  “Don’t touch his wound!” Alice shouts at me.

  Richard wobbles and stumbles forward, like he’s about to pass out himself. Janice grabs him by the shoulders.

  “What the…?” Janice says. “Richard, what’s going on?”

  “Someone dull his pain, please,” Richard says in a thin, pained voice. “He’s going into shock, and I…”

  I ease Adam to the ground. Frantically reaching into my sense memories, I pull out the feeling of lying in a warm bath and try to inject that sensation into his injured arm. He takes a breath and starts shivering.

  “Better,” Richard says.

  “Where am I?” Adam says, looking up at me, dazed. “Kate? What’s happening?”

  “Shit,” I say. “The amnesia thing. He needs blood.”

  “It’ll have to wait,” Richard says. “We can’t leave until we find a body. If we go back to Atlanta empty-handed—“

  I gape at him. “You’re really asking me to go back in there?”

  “You heard me, didn’t you?” he says.

  “Richard, she’s dead.” I point skyward, at the swirling tree of black tentacles. “Bet you that’s her body now.”

  Richard stares into the growing darkness as it begins to blot out the stars overhead. Something in his eyes seems to shift.

  “Do you want to go in after that?” I ask him. “Because I’m sure as hell not going to.”

  “All right, Kate,” he says. “You’re right. Alice, get us out of here.”

  Alice shakes her head.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re picking now as the time to throw a tantrum,” Richard says.

  “I am doing nothing of the sort,” she says. “Look at his arm! I can’t bring that with us into a rift.”

  I shake my head frantically. “We can’t leave him!”

  “What do you suggest, then?” Alice asks me.

  I turn to Janice. “You’re a Coventinian, right? Can’t you heal him?”

  Janice just stares at Adam’s wound like she’s beholding the heat death of the universe.

  “I don’t think his wound can be healed,” Alice says, “but perhaps if we amputate…”

  “Yeah. All right. Do it,” Richard says. “Quickly.”

  I look down at Adam. “Is this…?”

  “It’s fine,” he grunts.

  “Stand up,” Alice tells Adam. “Give me your arm.”

  I help Adam to his feet. He shakily extends his injured arm toward Alice, who grips her knife with a determined frown.

  “Give me that,” Janice says, grabbing the knife. “You’re too weak. You’ll never make it all the way through the bone.”

  Richard laughs shrilly. I squeeze Adam’s good hand. He closes his eyes.

  Janice hefts the long knife overhead in both hands and holds it there for a moment. The blade glistens in the firelight of my right hand. An instant later, with a swipe too fast to track, the remains of Adam’s arm are on the ground and the bloodied knife is by Janice’s hip. Richard screams. Janice drops the knife and clamps her hand over Adam’s amputation. The blood flow ceases immediately.

  “All right,” Alice says. “Let’s get out of here.” She reaches down and grabs Julian’s wrist. “Everyone put a hand on my back.”

  We all hurry to do as we’re told. In the last instant before we shift, I look up to see that the moon and stars are gone.

  ***

&n
bsp; And then we’re standing in the forest in front of another set of stone doors, identical in every way to the ones Adam and I just escaped through. At first I wonder if we’ve gone anywhere at all, but then I look up to see that the horrible writhing tentacles are gone, and the moon and stars shine bright overhead. We must be back in Georgia. I let out a breath.

  “Come on,” I say to Adam. “Put your arm around my shoulders. Let’s get you back to the house.”

  He nods, looking dazed, like he’s still not sure where he is.

  “Do you need blood?” I ask him.

  “No,” he says, almost afraid. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Adam, what happened back there?”

  “I don’t remember,” he says. “Back where?”

  I turn to Alice. “Where’s that knife?”

  “I left it,” she says.

  “Will someone please just give me something to cut myself with?” I say, annoyed.

  Richard hands me a pocket knife. I flip it open and make a deep cut across my wrist.

  Adam shakes his head. “No, Kate, I don’t need—“

  “Shut up. Yes you do.” Concentrating on keeping the wound open, I hold my wrist up to his mouth. “Take it.”

  He sighs and places his lips on the cut. As he draws blood from me, my chest starts to ache. Just like in the parking garage in Red Hook, I’m finding it hard to breathe—or rather, that same kind of life-or-death panic is setting in. Fortunately, he doesn’t take much out of me before he pulls his mouth away. I let my wound close itself up.

  He sits down heavily on the ground. I sit next to him, putting my arm around his shoulders. I want to ask him any number of questions about what happened back in Romania with Mirabel, but I’m pretty sure he won’t remember any of the answers. He closes his eyes. Even though I’m not a telepath, I can feel how profoundly tired he is.

  “Just give me a minute,” he says.

  “All right,” I say.

  “So,” Janice says, “what next?”

  “We need to go back to Atlanta,” Richard says.

  “Like hell I’m going back there,” I tell him. “Shit, Richard, you might not even want to go back. Think of what she’ll do to you!”

  “You say that as if either of us have a choice in the matter,” Richard says.

  “Don’t I?”

  Richard shakes his head. “You know your little display in front of the server room was just about meaningless. All you did was piss Mother off.”

  “Then why did she let me leave with the amulet and the ring?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe the Compulsion stuck for a minute. But I wouldn’t count on it lasting.”

  “Wait,” Adam says, opening his eyes. “Kate, what happened?”

  “I put a Compulsion on Mnemosyne,” I say. “I Compelled her not to Compel me. Or you. Or Julian.”

  “Or me,” Alice adds.

  “Or Alice,” I say. “Ever again.”

  Adam stares at me, speechless.

  “And I’m not stupid enough to think it’ll last,” I say with a pointed glance at Richard. “But at least it’ll give us a chance to run.”

  “Run where?” Richard says.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Alice owes me. Don’t you?”

  She nods.

  “And it seems like she could take us practically anywhere,” I continue.

  “No matter where you go, Mnemosyne will be able to find you,” Richard says. “She can use compulsion remotely, Kate. You know that.”

  “But I have the amulet,” I say.

  “That doesn’t matter!” he says. “She’s not a Warden!”

  I bite my lower lip. He might be right.

  “I am right!” he says. “Believe it or not, Kate, I’m trying to help you. If you run now, you’ll just make things much, much worse for yourself. And for Adam. Trust me.”

  I try to ignore him. There has to be somewhere we can go—somewhere she wouldn’t be able to find us. I rack my brain, trying to think of options. What about the cicatrix? Horace’s grotto? Maybe we could hide there—

  “You know the location of a cicatrix?” Richard asks, taken aback.

  “Kate! Stop,” Adam says. “Think of something else. Don’t give him any details.”

  Oh God! He’s right—Richard can read my mind. And if he knows where we’re going, soon Mnemosyne will too. I force myself to think of SpiraCom headquarters, recalling it in my mind’s eye one floor at a time.

  “I think it’s time for you to leave,” Alice says to Richard.

  “Why?” he asks. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  “That is a lie,” she tells him.

  “Indeed,” says Adam.

  “I don’t need this from you right now,” Richard says to him.

  “Richard, she’s right,” I say. “This is how it has to be.”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “It’s a four hour drive to Atlanta,” I say. “You might want to get going.”

  Richard stares at me silently. His expression gives me no clue as to what’s going on inside his head.

  “Let’s wake Julian up,” I say. “I’m sure he’ll give you a car.”

  Still he doesn’t respond.

  “What?” I ask. “Do you want Alice to take you with us? Is that it?”

  “That’s it exactly,” Adam says.

  Richard's lips flatten into a line.

  “I’m sorry. I refuse to take him anywhere,” Alice says.

  Richard turns to her. “What have I ever done to you?”

  Alice scoffs.

  “I wasn’t the one who imprisoned you,” he says. “And since Mnemosyne put you under my charge I’ve been nothing but civil to you!”

  “You forced me to act against my will,” she says.

  “I was merely following orders!”

  “I don’t care,” she says.

  “Do you think these people will treat you any better than I did?” Richard asks her.

  “No,” she says. “I think as soon as I take them where they wish to go, we’ll be square, and I’ll be done with them.”

  Richard sighs loudly and runs a hand through his hair.

  “If you don’t leave, I’ll put the invidia on you, just like I put it on Mirabel,” Alice says, narrowing her eyes, lowering her voice. “And you saw what became of her.”

  “Fine,” Richard says. “If that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll go. Someone get Julian up.”

  Janice crouches down by Julian and gently nudges him until he stirs.

  “What about you, Janice?” Richard asks. “Are you running off with them, too?”

  “Of course not,” she says.

  “You know she might kill us,” Richard says.

  “I know.”

  ***

  We walk through the trees and the garden to the estate, through the labyrinth and up the stairs to the garage. Julian hands Richard a set of car keys, and he and Janice leave without any further discussion. With the two of them gone, Adam, Alice, Julian and I linger by the open garage door, watching them disappear down the perfectly straight driveway.

  “So what exactly happened back there?” Julian asks.

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “I’ll explain once we’re somewhere safe.”

  “Do you really know the whereabouts of a cicatrix?” Alice asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s on the South Carolina coast, not too far from here.”

  “Is that where you’re thinking of going?” Julian asks.

  “Why?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “That won’t work. Mnemosyne knows where it is. I’m certain she’ll make the connection.”

  “Shit,” I say.

  “I know of another,” Adam says, leaning against a black convertible. “Cicatrix, that is.”

  “You do?” I ask.

  “Hiroshima,” Julian says.

  Adam nods.

  “Like… in Japan?” I ask.

  “The entire city is an enormous ci
catrix,” Julian says. “As is Nagasaki. Something about the catastrophic loss of human life…”

  “That’s great and all, but the earth is round,” I say.

  “Shit,” says Adam. “You’re right.”

  “What do you mean?” Julian asks.

  “She means it’s daytime in Japan,” Adam says.

  “Oh,” Julian says. “Yes, that is a problem, isn’t it.”

  Adam slides down to the floor and sits down with a thud.

  “You should lie down,” I say.

  “I’ll be fine,” he says.

  I turn to Alice. “How does your teleportation thing work, exactly?”

  She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Teleportation thing?”

  “Your manifestation,” I say. “What else would you call it?”

  “Opening a rift,” she says.

  “Fine then,” I say. “Opening a rift. How does it work?”

  “I think of a place I’ve been to before, and I go there,” she says.

  “Could you teleport us inside a building?” I ask.

  “I’ve never been to Hiroshima,” she says, “let alone inside a specific building.”

  “So no,” I say.

  “No,” she says. “We’d run the risk of ending up outside, or in the middle of a wall, or what have you.”

  “I’ve been there,” Adam says. “I could show you exactly where to jump to.”

  Alice frowns at him. “Simply looking at a map or a photograph won’t be sufficient.”

  “I didn’t figure.” Adam pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?” she asks.

  “I can share one of my memories with you,” he says.

  She eyes him with suspicion. “How?”

  “Give me your hand,” he says.

  Looking at him sidelong, Alice slowly extends her right hand toward Adam. He takes it in his left. Alice’s eyes glaze over, lose focus. Her head slowly tilts to the side. The two of them stay that way for a few moments, then a minute, then even longer.

  “Julian?” I say in a near-whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “Who does Adam know in Hiroshima?”

  “Some old friends of ours,” Julian whispers, a faraway look in his eyes, a sentimental smile on his lips. “Old enemies of Spira Communications.”