by Brandt Legg
“What?” Linh said. “Is that possible?”
“Anyone can choose sides,” Yangchen said. “You think Spencer is working to protect the Jadeo. Well, that may be; his actions are always difficult to understand. That man works in complexities that would require anyone else many lives to comprehend. If I had my guess, he’s trying to prevent the Dark Mystic from crossing over to Omnia.”
“He said the Dark Mystic doesn’t like him,” I said.
“Maybe not in this life,” Yangchen said, “maybe not for a hundred lives, but Spencer can find the point in time when most anything happens and no one is better at changing it than he is.”
“Then why –” My question was interrupted as the sky tore open. Special Forces, sent by Omnia from some other dimension, dropped through the ragged portal.
38
In a blur it was over. Linh was gone.
“What happened?” I yelled, as Yangchen pulled Amber up from the sand.
“We must go now!”
Clouds gathered and swept us into a storm similar to the one that blew us out of Calyndra. Yangchen held my arm like a vise. She gripped Amber with her other hand. A swift force pulled and in a confused mist we landed in the Redwoods. Amber was unconscious and before I could ask Yangchen anything, I blacked out. The next thing I knew, the Old Man was dropping me into the Wizard Island portal. Seconds later Yangchen pushed us into a Booker-brand golf cart. Jurassic-like vegetation seemed to devour the thick humid air as we sped down a “road” not more than a few inches wider than the golf cart. The heat added to my wooziness, making talking or even thinking a chore. When our ride ended, we continued on foot, forcing our way through nearly impenetrable jungle. Finally, we reached a door hidden among large stones. We entered and immediately descended steep, wet, mossy steps. At the bottom there were two doors. Yangchen opened the one on the right. A long hall eventually led into a spacious room. Surprisingly, there was natural light coming in from several small tinted windows on one wall.
“We’re in a Movement safe house, about thirty feet below the Amazon jungle. Those windows look out onto a small tributary that leads to the great river. They’re on the side of a short cliff and completely camouflaged from the outside.”
“Where’s Linh?” I asked Yangchen. Amber had a lost look and was obviously still trying to shake off her fog.
“Omnia has her.”
“No!” I yelled. All I could think of was Carst.
“They won’t send Linh there.” Yangchen read my thoughts. “She is far too important a prisoner.” There was no doubt in her response. I believed her.
“What happened?” Amber asked faintly.
“I’m sorry to say that we’ve entered the final phase.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Omnia has found a way to breach the parallels and has begun interdimensional warfare.”
“Is that as awful as it sounds?” Amber asked, fearfully.
“Yes, that’s why we refer to it as the final phase.” She rubbed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The bad news is we’ve never been closer to defeat, but because of duality this means there is equally good news . . . we’ve never been closer to victory.”
Yangchen assured me that the Movement’s greatest priority, after protecting me, was to locate Linh. “Our mystics have all been alerted. Not surprisingly, Linh is not on the astral but her change has not been felt. They want her alive.”
Over the next few days we slept a lot; the soul storms, portals and dimensional-blend were draining. Yangchen explained that dimensional-blend occurs when two or more dimensions are directly open to one another without being buffered by a portal. “Tearing into another one is extremely dangerous,” she said. “Fortunately, the initial reports are optimistic and it appears that Omnia’s ability to puncture the parallels is still basic; but I must caution, we’re still in the final phase and it may be only a matter of time until Omnia’s forces are freely roaming in and out of them at will.”
“What happens if they keep blending dimensions?” Amber asked.
“No one knows for sure but none of the theories are good. It’s a difficult problem to explain but simply put, things would stop making sense.”
“Sounds like that’s already happened,” I said.
“The compromised dimensions,” Yangchen ignored me and continued, “would become a drifting mess from which the inhabitants could neither reach their souls nor maintain a ‘normal’ human existence. And because all dimensions must awaken before any of us finds completeness, the consequences could be dire.”
“We have to stop them,” Amber said. “How is Omnia able to do this?”
“Omnia’s wealth and earthly power has allowed them to create an organization that is so vast and efficient that they can make breakthroughs at a rate far greater than the Movement.”
“How long do we have to stay here? I’ll go crazy stuck in this cave. I need to do something.”
“What would you do, Nate?” Amber asked.
“I’d find Dunaway. Now that we’re in the final phase, surely he’ll see that joining forces is the only way to win. He’s the only other surviving one of the seven; I just know we were meant to join forces. Together we’ll find the Dark Mystic, rescue Linh and then stop whoever is running Omnia.”
“He’s got Clastier and the Jadeo. Dunaway doesn’t seem to think he needs the Movement,” Amber said.
“He doesn’t even know what the Jadeo is.”
“Maybe he does now. How hard would it be for him to get that from Clastier?”
That was obviously the great concern. Dunaway had Clastier hidden and I couldn’t even communicate with him on the astral.
“I know,” I said, defeated. “If he finds out what it is, it’s over – not just the Movement, but the world as we know it.”
“Whatever that is,” Amber said. “Do you recognize much of the world anymore?”
I remained lost in my thoughts.
“Anyway,” Amber continued, “when do I get to know what the Jadeo is?”
“Nate, don’t let fear take you in,” Yangchen said. “Even if Dunaway is able to discover the Jadeo’s secrets, he must open it and that is nearly impossible for all but the nine entrusted.”
“Yangchen, I can’t stay here; there’s too much to do.”
“It’s too risky for you to be out there right now.”
“It’s riskier not to be.”
“I know you want to find Linh.” Yangchen took my hand and held it in hers. “You feel responsible for the loss of the Jadeo and Clastier to Dunaway. You must forgive yourself for these things. You will do more good being safe and finding greater power within. It is remarkable that we haven’t lost you yet. The entire world is divided and you are how that is defined. If you were captured, the Movement would fall; as long as you are free . . . there is a chance.”
“It doesn’t feel like I’m free when I’m hiding in some bunker. What good are all my powers if I can’t use them?”
“You will get the chance soon enough. And remember, one who is in touch with his soul is always free.”
That night, sleep came hard, fitful and interspersed with Outviews.
“Dosen,” Tesa, appearing just as she had in 1917, said, as I entered the screened porch furnished with antique white wicker furniture. “Yes, as I recall, today is the one when Nate is in your eyes.”
“You’ve mentioned him before,” Dosen said.
“Nate, are you seeing this in an Outview?” she asked, staring at Dosen.
I didn’t have any way to communicate with her, as much as I tried.
“Don’t worry, love,” she said. “You’ll learn how to access the universal mind in your next life. I know you are there. But I do wish you could join us for tea.”
Another old lady joined them. At once her eyes revealed her to be Spencer. “Is he here?” Spencer asked Tesa, while looking at Dosen.
“Yes, he’s in the middle of an Outview from the time of the Move
ment’s revolution against Omnia.” Tesa picked up a cup and sipped. “Quite exciting.” She looked back at Dosen, “In case you are unsure, Nate, we are well beyond your lifetime.” Tesa put her cup down and manipulated the air with her hands until a full-color, holographic scene appeared. It showed Clastier speaking in front of a large crowd.
“An Outmove,” he began, “is a bold act of faith, when one trusts the universe no matter the situation, and proceeds from the soul rather than the personality one is presently draped in.” I hadn’t heard or read that before and assumed it was from the missing pages. Stacks of books, clearly titled The Clastier Papers, filled the table next to him. While he continued to share his wisdom, I wondered when the speech would happen.
“The date is not important,” Tesa said. “It is in the future. At least as of now, it is what the future holds. Clastier must be protected.”
Spencer cut in, “There are many events that can change this future.”
I wondered if Amber, Linh and I all lived to see that speech when suddenly a gunman came from the crowd and shot Clastier three times. Among the screams and confusion, I saw Linh run to his aid. Her healings came too late; Clastier’s blood-soaked body lay limp in her arms. I screamed and within the Outview felt his change. Then I remembered I was Clastier and his death might mean the Outview would end.
“Even your thoughts can alter the future,” Spencer said. “You must be careful.”
“But Omnia is closing in. How can I be careful about what I think when I’m just trying to keep us all alive and get the Jadeo and Clastier back?”
The hologram display showed an empty stadium, as if Clastier had never been there. I wondered what I had done. Then the area filled with soldiers and buses full of prisoners. Hundreds were shot, countless more were loaded and shipped out to horrible prison camps, many were headed to Carst. Amber boarded one, destination unknown. Outside the entrance, a type of laser guillotine had been set up. Two hooded soldiers pushed me into the contraption. A bank of video cameras focused as the beam cut off my head.
My screams woke Amber and Yangchen.
“Amber, you’re alive!” I panted.
“You’re alive too, Nate,” Yangchen said.
Amber held me until my breathing slowed.
“Where were you?” Yangchen asked.
“Future, not sure when.”
“Was I there? Or Spencer?” she asked.
“Spencer. I didn’t see you.”
“Tell me exactly what you saw.”
Well into the next day, Yangchen continued to assure me everything possible was being done to find Linh. I couldn’t eat and searched the astral constantly. Both Yangchen and Amber used Solteer to calm me. Even so, I remained highly agitated. Yangchen was called away to assist with a dimensional breach, but I suspected it had something to do with the Outview.
The absence of both my guiding mystics, Yangchen and Spencer, left me floundering. The interior of the “bunker” was as posh as such a place could be, but it felt like a prison. Amber and I hadn’t been completely alone since the night in San Francisco, years before. But with Linh being held, my guilt ran deeper than normal and I remained distant.
We meditated and I generally tried to catch my breath, but the pause wasn’t good for me. As much as I wanted to follow Yangchen’s advice, going within was impossible while the outside world was calling in such desperate ways. It wasn’t until another Outview forced me once again to face the depths of the conflict that I was reminded there is no separating the two.
39
The Outview showed another concurrent incarnation thirteen months in the future, one that threatened to unravel the delicate threads still holding me together. I was Fred Means, a recently discharged vet of the U.S. Air Force, now working for the National Security Agency. Nineteen months ahead, things had gone from terrible to nightmarish. Not only was every phone and email monitored and recorded but also, through a network of satellites and ground stations, the NSA listened in on conversations inside most buildings including nearly every residence on the planet. They knew everything about everyone. Dissenters were rounded up in huge numbers, then placed into the earth’s largest prison system. With the legalization of drugs, there were plenty of empty cells to fill. An estimated two million “revolutionaries” were incarcerated in the U.S. They were the lucky ones. Nineteen million Americans were listed as missing. In my role at NSA, I knew most had been sent to Carst. Approximately sixty-six thousand more were in secret prisons scattered around the globe, people deemed “too valuable to kill,” at least until they could be exhaustively interrogated (some called it torture).
If they’d wanted to be humane in their “cleansing,” Omnia could have sent their enemies into the portal-of-no-return at Kilauea, the dissidents would never be heard from again and the karma would be minimal, but Yangchen said they didn’t even know of the portal’s existence.
The number of insect-sized drones spying on citizens topped a million, implanted microchips were mandatory for all persons thirteen or older, and cash had been replaced by digital “money.” These steps, along with the earlier bans on guns, free speech and the press, were welcomed by the population in order to preserve safety and the American way of life. It was very successful. Crime and corruption, at least by old definitions, had been virtually eliminated. The new order was mirrored in most of the rest of the world, resulting in a massive decline in terrorism. We secretly allowed the occasional plane to be blown up, school shooting or stadium bombing to keep everyone in fear, but otherwise life was peaceful, unless you were on the watch or wanted lists. That was part of my job at NSA, to compile data profiles – whom to add to the watch list, whom to recommend for arrest, and where to find those in hiding. It was all based on profiling data, utilizing internet browsing histories, conversations, shopping records, TV viewing patterns, books read, associations with people, organizations, even which corporations a person dealt with, or didn’t. Another big component was travel: had you ever been somewhere with a high concentration of people on the watch list, or where arrests had been made? And a huge red flag came if you’d been anywhere near one of the Movement’s centers, prior to or during its time in operation. And my biggest job? The one that occupied the majority of my working hours? Tracking Nathan Ryder.
It was like Dustin and Storch. Within the Outview I desperately needed to go to Outin and find my brother for some advice. What to do? Was there a way to give Fred Means full memory so he would know what I did? Was that advisable? Which personality was stronger? Were we each obligated to fulfill our own destiny? The paradox was wild in my mind. I wanted to be at the bunker thinking it over, discussing it with Amber, but what if I couldn’t get back?
This bastard was helping to send people to Carst. Did he send Trevor? That answer came quickly; he was on a committee that reviewed Trevor’s case and recommended his transfer. It was Storch and the slave trader rolled into one. How could my soul be a party to that kind of brutality? Hundreds of years ago in Africa it was disgusting and unbearable enough, but this was within this life. Time’s a funny thing. While this tragic, toxic self-betrayal swirled in my mind and threatened to drown me, two new thoughts emerged. Most Outviews I involuntarily entered brought me in at the death, so Fred Means was likely about to die, and secondly, he might know where Linh was being held.
I scanned the area, searching for danger. Fred was at home reading a book on his iPad. Dunaway might send an IF strike-unit in to kill Fred; NSA, CIA, FBI were some of IF’s favorite targets, and they usually hit them at home. Omnia had possibly found out that Fred shared my soul. Spencer didn’t think they were capable of discovering current incarnations, but now that we’d entered the final phase . . . anything could happen.
I looked around; all appeared calm. Maybe everything was fine, but then a coughing fit quickly turned into gasping. He stood up choking, trying to reach water and nearly made it to the kitchen but fell to his knees in the dining room. Fred crawled a few more feet, wheezing and
turning blue. I saw what he was reading on his iPad and knew I’d have to return earlier on the last day of Fred’s life.
Amber was alarmed. “Where were you?”
“Outview.”
“I know, but you were sweating and shaking, that’s not normal.”
“I do that after a lot of Outviews.”
“Yeah, but not during them.”
“This one was different.” I told Amber what I’d seen.
“Can you get back?”
“I think so. The question is can I stop him from eating those carrots. Carrots, can you believe it? Or, at least heal him before he dies.”
I arrived in Fred’s life thirty minutes prior to his death. My presence would panic him for many obvious reasons, so I stayed in a Timefold until I could hold him with Gogen.
“Oh my God,” he said, more calmly than I expected. “You’re a gutsy guy, Ryder, I’ll give you that.”
He recognized me, of course, but not my soul – our soul. My very presence meant he would not be eating carrots so he wouldn’t choke to death. I scooped up the iPad and quickly found what I was looking for. He’d been reading the interrogation reports of Linh.
“Remarkable,” he said. “Everyone expected you to rescue her a year ago. Where have you been, Ryder?”
I ignored him. Vising was not a reliable way to read electronic formats, as it tended to skip sections or read out of order. I actually had to read it but there was too much, so I scanned, looking for a location. It was possible to take the iPad back with me but I didn’t exactly know how. After almost ten minutes, I still couldn’t find a reference to where they had her. “Where is she?”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
I raised him up with Gogen and pushed him to the top of the cathedral ceiling and suspended him almost twenty feet above a large glass coffee table. “Where is she?”
“Hey, put me down!”
“I’m going to drop you if you don’t tell me where she is. I wonder how sharp the glass will be when your head shatters it.”
