by Dima Zales
“Tell us everything,” Caleb says.
“Young man,” Paul says to Caleb. “Remember your place.”
“We’ll find out what happened when we perform the Joining,” Rose says gently. “For now, we just want to make sure you, Darren, are who we think you are.”
“Wait, I want to learn about the Orthodoxy,” I say, keeping to my original subject. I don’t want to be at the center of their interest. I don’t want them confirming their suspicions about who they think I am, especially if those suspicions include me being part Guide. It’s a big break as is that they’re apparently not angry with me for offing Jacob. At least the Enlightened aren’t; Caleb clearly is.
“We don’t know much about them. They’re religiously secretive. People like him”—she nods at Caleb—“are trying to uncover more information about this sect. From what little we’ve learned, we know they’re responsible for many actions we don’t approve of.”
“What kind of actions?” I ask, staring at her.
“They’re too numerous to list,” she says, frowning, “but their biggest mistake is their desire to get rid of us. They want to return to the days when Readers of our magnitude didn’t exist. Our power scares them. Our practices scare them. Anything new scares them, really, which is why they intentionally stifle human progress of any kind. They want to make sure the world remains within certain parameters that are comfortable for them. We suspect they’re behind most of the fundamentalist groups in the world, be it Islamic extremists or—”
“Enough,” Paul says. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Rose, but we can cover this at another time. Darren, let’s cut to the chase. Was Mark your father?”
I look at them. Rose gives me an entreating look. Caleb’s eyebrow rises slightly, but his expression otherwise remains blank. Paul waits expectantly.
“Why would you ask that?” I ask, searching for a way to dodge this subject.
“We ask because we’re almost certain that you are his son,” Rose says. “We want to know without a shadow of doubt before we proceed with the next part of our plan.”
I rattle questions at them as quickly as I can. “What plan? Why do you think I’m this person’s son? And why does it matter?”
“We believe you’re Mark’s son because we looked you up before asking Caleb to bring you here. When we saw you, we noticed the familial resemblance. Combined with your questions about the man, the likelihood seems great, but given whom Mark married, we just didn’t think it was possible,” Rose explains.
“You know whom he married?” I give them a surprised look.
“We do,” Rose says, cautiously looking toward Caleb. “No point in going into that right this moment.”
“Indeed,” Paul says. “But I am beginning to understand the source of your reluctance on this issue.”
“Yes, now I get it, too.” Rose smiles at me. “You have nothing to worry about, though. Not from us two, that’s for sure.”
“Oh?” I say noncommittally. “Why is that?”
“Because, child, Mark was our son,” she says, gesturing toward Paul. “You’re our grandson.”
Chapter 4
Rose is my grandma? Paul, the guy I nicknamed ‘Grandpa,’ actually is my grandpa? That’s just too much to take in. Since I learned Sara isn’t my biological mom, I knew I’d eventually come across new family—and it’s logical that my family would be from the Reader and Guide communities—but knowing this and actually having it happen are two different things. I’m more surprised by Paul and Rose being my grandparents than I was to learn that Hillary is my aunt.
Studying their features more closely, I notice the resemblance: Paul has my eye color, and Rose has my chin. Or rather, I have theirs. My heart starts beating even faster. I hate that we’re in the Quiet, because that means I can’t phase out to take a breather, as I usually would in similar situations.
“As soon as I saw your pictures online, I suspected you were my grandson,” Rose says, pulling me out of my shock. “I hoped. You look just like Mark did when he was your age, and even more like Paul.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Caleb asks, looking at Paul. Apparently, this is a surprise to him, too. “It would’ve been nice to be in the loop.”
“Did you need to know?” Paul retorts coldly.
“I guess not,” Caleb says, deflating. “But it would’ve helped. I thought—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Paul says. “Rose, I think we should bring in a few of the others.”
I have to say, in contrast to Rose, who is beaming at me, I’m not getting any warm and fuzzy feelings from Grandpa. Not one bit. Maybe he’s one of those crankier older gentlemen.
“You may go,” Rose tells Caleb. “But do stick around in this Mind Dimension for the time being.”
“You got it,” Caleb says and walks off. If it’s possible to express anger through one’s gait, he’s doing an extremely good job of it. It sounds as though he misunderstood their reason for having me brought here, and I wonder what the actual reason is.
Rose and Paul walk over to two other white-robed figures. She touches a bald man on the head, and Paul goes for the neck of a heavyset woman who’s sitting on the other side of the circle.
The moving versions of the two new people appear. I’m still digesting having grandparents—grandparents who are among the Enlightened, no less.
“Darren, this is Edward, my husband,” Rose says, introducing the bald man.
“And this is my wife, Marsha,” Paul says.
Both newcomers look at me with varying levels of fascination.
“I can see it,” the bald one, Edward, says.
The chubby lady, Marsha, nods.
When the introductions sink in—and though it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today—I can’t help but say, “Wait, you two aren’t married?”
“No,” Rose says, giving her husband a reassuring squeeze on the arm. “Paul and I had Mark because it was genetically advantageous, but when it came to choosing life partners, each of us married for love.”
Okay, so fact one: I have grandparents. Fact two: they’re swingers. It just gets better and better.
“Rose and I are the most powerful of our kind,” Paul says. He must’ve interpreted the expression on my face as incredulity about the ‘genetically advantageous’ reference, when my astonishment was in regards to their sex life.
“Yes,” Rose chimes in. “We were bred, through generations, for our Depth. Our ancestors have been trying to—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, hon,” Edward says to her, “but shouldn’t we do the Joining first? Before we tell him everything?”
“That’s a great idea,” Paul says. “We can only fully confide in him after the Joining.”
“Joining?” I ask, slowly regaining my scattered wits. “Like when I joined my mind with Caleb’s to read the fighter’s thoughts?”
“Something like that, yes,” Rose says, “but on a bigger scale.”
“Caleb gave us the report on your experience,” Paul says. “He gleaned your guilt about your Pusher nature without fully understanding the situation. Since you obviously can Read and all.”
“He did? I was so afraid he’d find out I was a Pusher and kill me like he did that guy in his memories,” I blurt out. “I can’t believe he saw my biggest fear and didn’t confront me about it.”
“The man Caleb killed was one of the Pushers allied with the Orthodoxy,” Paul says. “You witnessed the event out of context. The explosion Caleb prevented was meant to put a deeper wedge between Readers and Pushers. It was also how we began suspecting Jacob of being in league with the Orthodoxy. He wasn’t at the community when the explosion was supposed to happen.” His voice hardens. “Believe me, he won’t be missed.”
“You mean to tell me that Readers don’t kill Pushers just for being what they are?” I give him a dubious look. “What about the genocides?”
“That’s in the past. Modern Readers don’t kill Pushers for being born
as they are. Or better to say, anyone we have influence over doesn’t, not since we’ve learned of the good that Pushers have done in the world,” Rose says.
“Good?” I blink at her. “What kind of good?”
“Well, for starters, during the Cold War, we know a powerful Pusher prevented nuclear war,” Rose says.
“Possibly more than once, hon,” Edward corrects.
“Wow.” I’m surprised Hillary and the others never told me about such a feat.
“Yes. We have been fascinated by our Pusher cousins for some time now, and any enmity between us is a direct result of the Orthodoxy’s efforts,” Rose says with a touch of regret. “They want things to be like they were in antiquity, and their strategies are succeeding so far. In Russia, our people are still at each other’s throats.”
I nod, thinking about some of the stuff I heard from Eugene. “But something about the Orthodoxy doesn’t make sense to me,” I say after a moment. “If they don’t want Readers and Pushers to be friendly, they’re sure not acting like it. After all, they’re cooperating with each other, like Jacob and that Pusher Caleb killed.”
“Yes, it’s a hypocrisy of the tallest order,” Edward says, looking disgusted. “But cooperation is their only chance of taking us on. They know if we allied ourselves with the Pushers, everything would change, and change in the world is what they fear most.”
“Bear in mind that we have no idea how the Orthodoxy is structured,” Marsha says. “There is a chance that the alliance is tenuous. We certainly hope so. There is also a chance that they plan to eliminate each other as soon as they’ve achieved their goals.”
“And truthfully,” Rose says, “though we’re not out to kill Pushers, this age-old hatred is very hard to overcome, despite everything we’ve learned. It happens to be the focus of my ‘loving kindness’ meditation.”
“So, with those things out of the way, you should proceed to Joining with us,” Paul says, giving Rose a strange look.
“Why?” I ask. “I didn’t like it when I Joined with Caleb, so I’m not all that eager to do it again.”
“You will do it so we can trust you,” Paul says, furrowing his white eyebrows.
“Right, but don’t we have a Catch-22 here? I don’t want to do it because I’m not sure I trust you,” I say, trying not to sound petulant.
“Your view on the matter is irrelevant.” Paul’s face reddens. “You’re going to do as you’re told.”
He sounds like my uncle Kyle, and that pushes all sorts of buttons for me, so I tell him, “Listen, Grandpa, go fuck yourself.”
“You little—”
“If I may,” Rose says, interrupting whatever insults Paul was about to throw at me. “Darren, let me show you around the Temple some more. I think we should have a nice chat.”
“Please bring me into your Mind Dimension when he’s ready,” Marsha says and walks over to her body. She says it as though it’s a forgone conclusion, and that pisses me off too. Marsha touches her own neck and is gone before I can say anything about it.
As a side note, what Marsha just did is a very cool way to pass the time in this sort of situation. When she’s pulled back in, she won’t have experienced the time during which I was hypothetically being convinced to do the Joining, so to her, even if it takes a year, it will feel instantaneous. In that way, it’s almost like time travelling. Of course, she won’t be pulled in, period, because I have no intentions of letting them convince me.
“I’ll do the same,” Edward says and walks over to his own body.
“I’ll be here,” Paul says through clenched teeth and walks over to what I assume is his place in the circle. “Ask Caleb to keep guard when you see him.”
Without saying anything else, he takes his position in front of an empty spot. It must be where his frozen body would be were it not near the car by the road. He’s now an arm’s length away from the bearded monk at the center of the circles. He settles into the lotus pose, closes his eyes, and, I guess, starts meditating.
Rose takes me by my elbow, and we leave the amphitheater in silence. I see Caleb on the right side of the corridor that runs around the big room we just exited. We turn left and start walking. From the corner of my eye, I take in the stunning view of the intricate stairway that leads to the amphitheater.
“We are very patient people, Darren,” Rose says softly. “So we will get what we want.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s simple. What choice do you have but to cooperate?”
“Plenty. I can get the hell out of this weird place and go back to Miami to enjoy the rest of my vacation.”
“All right, walk me through that,” she says, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Step by step, how are you going to get to Miami?”
“Well,” I start, thinking it through for the first time, “I need to phase out—”
“Is that what you call Splitting? I like it,” she says. “To phase out, what do you need to do?”
“I need to touch myself,” I say, my heart skipping a beat. I’m beginning to understand my predicament.
“Please don’t do that here,” she says, the gleam in her eyes turning into full-fledged amusement. “That’s one part of your growing up I don’t mind having missed.”
Realizing what I said, I start laughing. The laugh is partly hysterical, though.
“Looks like you have my sense of humor,” Rose says. “You wouldn’t have gotten it from Paul, that’s for sure.”
I stop laughing. “The bag over my head wasn’t to hide the location of this place, but to hide the location of my body, right?” I say, looking at her. “I can’t initiate phasing out without touching my body, so I’m stuck here, in Paul’s Quiet.”
“Another term you invented?” she says approvingly. “You’re as smart as I thought. The situation is exactly as you described, with two extra bits of information that should persuade you to cooperate. One—Paul is extremely stubborn, and I hope you didn’t get that from him. And two—he can keep up this session for many, many subjective years, and he will. So you see, all we have to do is wait you out—something we have a lot more practice with than you do.”
“I could kill myself,” I suggest. “That would get me out.”
“And become Inert? You wouldn’t,” she says, but her forehead wrinkles at the thought. “Besides, Paul and Caleb would only bring you to the Temple and we would wait for your Depth to return.”
She’s right, of course, but that gives me a more desperate idea. Without saying a word, I turn and head back for the amphitheater.
“Caleb,” Rose yells. “Guard the Hall, now.”
She must’ve guessed my intentions.
I start running up the stairs, but by the time I get to the Hall, Caleb is already there, arms crossed. Fuck. My idea of how to get out of this Mind Dimension involved killing my newfound grandpa. Since I’m in his Quiet, killing him would’ve kicked me out of it and made him Inert—a sacrifice I’m quite willing to make given the situation the old man put me in.
“You realize if something happens to Paul, you’ll end up in the car with me, right?” Caleb’s smile resembles that of a shark. “And I would be very unappreciative.”
Okay, that plan is no good. I’m not even sure I could’ve gone through with it anyway. I probably just wanted to scare the old coot with the possibility of being Inert and blackmail my way out of here. But what Caleb says is true. In or out of the Quiet, I’m still in a precarious situation.
“Are you ready to continue our tour?” Rose asks from the bottom of the stairs. “Are we done with this foolishness?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I run again, down the giant staircase.
In mere minutes, I pass all the frozen monks and race through the gardens until I find myself outside the Temple. The forest surrounds the entire perimeter of the valley where the Temple is located, so I can’t be sure from which direction we came when I was blindfolded. On a hunch, I run toward the trees in the distance, h
oping that’s the right way.
I run and run at a pace where it’s actually kind of fun at first, and reminds me of the excursions I took as a kid. The sandals make it easier to run, too, and my feet are very grateful for them. Unfortunately, after hours of running, all I achieve is getting as tired as a dog. I don’t find the road, let alone the car. Stubbornly, I run some more. The fun of this is long gone, slowly turning into agonizing weariness. When I feel as if running another step will make me sick, I have no choice but to admit defeat. I was hoping I’d find my body if I searched long enough, and from there, I’d work on a plan for when I phased out. However, it seems like I might as well be looking for a person without a cell phone in the middle of Times Square—an impossible task.
With my proverbial tail tucked tightly between my legs, I return to the Temple, my slow pace making the trip back mind-numbingly boring. On my way, I decide that Joining with the Enlightened won’t be the end of the world. I wanted to refuse them out of principle, because I didn’t like the way Paul was ordering me to Join. However, I have to admit, a part of me is rather curious about the Joining. When I shared Caleb’s mind—which, let’s face it, was not the friendliest of places—it was less than pleasant. This experience, however, could be very different—perhaps enlightening in some way?
When I get back to the Temple, I make my way up the stairs decisively.
Caleb sees me coming and gets up from his lounging position next to the Hall. Was he just meditating? Though I guess this place would drive anyone to try it, Caleb doesn’t strike me as the meditative type at all.
“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” I tell him and raise my hands. “I’m ready for the stupid Joining they want to do.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Caleb says, and before I can respond, he enters the Hall and slams the door behind him.
Belatedly, I realize I should’ve nicknamed Caleb ‘Mr. Personality.’ As I wait, the thought of entering that moniker into my phone and one day ordering it to ‘call Mr. Personality’ helps me deal with my jitters.
Rose peeks her head around the door. “Thank you for coming back.”
