by Dima Zales
“Fine. I guess I’m a lab rat.”
“Guinea pig,” he thinks, and as much as it’s possible to think with a smile, he manages it.
“How can I use my powers then? And for that matter, how do I exit? I have no body and no senses. I don’t know where to even start.”
“Start with Reading,” he thinks. “And do it the way everything else is done here. Will it. Desire to absorb Thomas’s pattern. This is what I’ve been doing with yours and what works for me, so it should work for you.”
So that’s what the lights surrounding me represented. He was absorbing my pattern. Spooky.
“You got it,” he thinks. “I’ll disconnect from you and leave you on your own.”
Something changes. The feeling of nothingness, of not being, becomes stronger. I didn’t realize how much Mimir’s presence was grounding me.
Through sheer will, I suppress my panic and focus on Thomas’s pattern.
I picture surrounding it.
I imagine merging with it.
It’s unclear how long it takes, but I eventually find myself closer to the pattern.
Yes, that’s the most precise way to explain it. I’m instantly closer, without actually moving toward it, like an electron in quantum mechanics. I jump without traveling the intervening distance.
I decide I’m on the right track and focus on his pattern some more.
Something happens much sooner now.
I find myself surrounding his pattern.
As I observe the light of the neurons that are now inside me, a familiar feeling surfaces in my mind. I recognize it as the state of Coherence—the now-familiar state when my mind feels focused and relaxed right before I Read someone.
And as soon as I enter this state, I enter Thomas’s mind.
Chapter 23
The pain from the knife entering our leg is overwhelming.
We rip a sleeve off our suit and improvise a quick tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
The smart thing would be to stay put, as movement increases blood flow and bleeding out would make us Inert, which is unacceptable. But Darren needs our help, so with all our remaining strength, we limp through the corridor, each step more agonizing than the next.
Multiple shots are fired close by.
Damn it. We need to hurry before Darren gets himself killed.
On the bright side, Darren is clearly still alive. If he weren’t, we would’ve been thrown out of his Mind Dimension.
I, Darren, disassociate. Reading from Level 2 is the same as Reading in the Quiet, with one notable exception. I’m Reading a Guide, which was previously thought to be impossible.
It’s a relief to feel grounded in a body again, even if that body belongs to someone else. Despite the excruciating pain in Thomas’s leg, I find it preferable to the nothingness of Level 2. I fleetingly feel bad for Mimir. He has to live on Level 2 for eternity. Then again, I strongly suspect he doesn’t mind. Thinking of Mimir reminds me that I might not have a lot of time. This interrupts my strong desire to Read deeper into Thomas’s past. As much as I want to learn more about my friend, I can’t risk becoming Inert. Not when I know exactly what I need to do. I let his present memory unfold, waiting for it to push me out of his mind.
We hear more shots. We walk faster, and as we do, we fight the lightheadedness that comes from severe blood loss.
We enter the alcove.
We see Darren reaching for a gun and Kyle going from loopy to alert. The bastard must’ve been faking. It’s too late to warn Darren.
We see Kyle motion to throw the knife and raise our gun to stop him. The gun feels like it weighs a ton. The laser sight hits Kyle in the eyes, and we get his attention.
“Don’t. Don’t do it, Thomas,” he says. “Don’t shoot. There’s something important I have to tell you.”
We don’t dignify his plea with a response. Instead, we allow our contempt to show on our face. After that quick indulgence, we focus all our remaining energy on pulling the trigger.
“I’m your father, Thomas,” Kyle yells. The meaning of his words sinks in a nanosecond before we’re about to pull the trigger. “You’re about to shoot your own father.”
Our finger slackens over the trigger.
A frantic chain of thoughts rushes through our mind.
This fits every clue we’ve uncovered about our roots. One of our parents is Asian, while the other is white—a fact we’ve verified through DNA testing, though it’s something we’ve known with a high degree of certainty just by looking in the mirror. From the United States census data, we learned that it’s more than twice as likely that our father was the white parent. When we looked it up, there were 529,000 white male/Asian female married couples as opposed to only 219,000 Asian male/white female ones. Furthermore, since we’ve only ever met white Guides, it stood to reason that our father was likely the one with powers.
We never investigated our parentage further than this for one simple reason: if our father didn’t want to claim us as his son, why the fuck would we want to seek him out?
Then all of this takes a backseat to a whole new realization. If he isn’t lying, and every instinct tells us he isn’t, then we met our mother today. We met her at the hospital. And she was there because Kyle had tried to kill her.
Darren’s story hits us in a new light. Kyle raped our mother and proceeded to erase our existence from her memory. It was because of Kyle that she gave us up...
Belatedly, we realize we’ve allowed the fucker to do exactly what he’d planned with that revelation. We’ve let our guard down. And now we see Kyle’s knife flying toward Darren.
This is our last chance. We have less than a second to act, and we hope it’s enough. Our finger squeezes the trigger.
* * *
I’m ejected from Thomas’s mind and back into the netherworld of Level 2. Maybe I should have called it something like The Darkness? Or better yet, Limbo or The Abyss? Of course, that’s a decision for another time.
At this moment, I have to come up with a plan. Here are the facts: If I run out of time in Level 2, I’ll become Inert. Assuming that doesn’t happen and I find a way to phase out of here—and if Mimir’s theory is wrong—I might find myself back in the Quiet with a knife in my chest, leaving me Inert yet again. It’s unclear whether Kyle will be Inert as well, as it’s a tricky matter of timing between Thomas’s bullet that’s racing toward Kyle and the knife that’s on its way into my heart.
My plan needs to work even if I’m Inert and Kyle is not—and I think I have just the idea. It hinges on one thing: getting inside Kyle’s mind.
I focus on Kyle’s light pattern in the distance. Just like before, I close half the distance auto-magically.
Focusing some more, I surround him.
This time, I’m repulsed by the idea of what’s about to happen, but there’s no helping it.
I repeat the actions that helped me tap into Thomas’s mind. I focus on the lights, the neurons that are Kyle. As I do, the Coherence state takes over, and with it, Kyle’s vile thoughts.
* * *
We’re walking toward Igor to give him his instructions. Boy, is that Russian fucker big.
In the crowd, we see an Asian woman stopped in time in the middle of a conversation with her scientist colleague. The woman looks nothing like Lucy, but we feel a pang of regret nonetheless. By now, Lucy is dead. Of course, we rationally understand why it had to be done. There was no other way. Yet some irrational part of us wishes there had been some alternative course of action.
We’re here on an important mission, we recall. At that, we forget all other nonsense. We have a task to accomplish, the thought comes again, and it has a cleansing effect. We get back in the zone and the world is simple again. Our laser focus brings all of our attention back to the task at hand. All that exists are the targets—targets whose actions we need to control—and nothing else. A sense of righteousness overwhelms us. With their hubris unchecked, these arrogant scientists will bring about the end of
the world. It falls unto us to stop them...
I, Darren, disassociate with a mental shudder. I’m no stranger to unsavory minds. Just a few weeks ago, I witnessed the mind of the sociopath Arkady—the Russian mobster whom Jacob and Kyle had used as their own pet assassin. I thought Kyle’s mind would be similar, but it isn’t. Arkady didn’t give a fuck about right or wrong. He just wasn’t wired to empathize with, or care about, other people’s pain. Kyle isn’t wired that way. Instead of being a certifiable psycho, it’s his worldviews that are warping his actions. The views are made worse by his zealot-like determination to achieve his goals at any cost.
The focus that came over him when he thought about his current task is frightening. He had no doubts, or more correctly, he suppressed his doubts. He didn’t worry for a millisecond about the people that would get hurt. He didn’t stop to consider the option of not killing anyone. No. In his mind, whatever needed to be done would be done. Black and white. The rest of the world completely disappeared. This strange mode of thinking is familiar, but I can’t quite grasp what it reminds me of.
It’s time to give Kyle a taste of his own medicine.
If I can Read, I can Guide. If I can Guide, I can execute my plan. I give my instructions to Kyle the same as I would with any other person.
You will feel too calm and relaxed the next time you try to Split into the Mind Dimension. You will not even think about the Mind Dimension. You are here on a work mission for the Organized Crime Unit. You’re at this conference to neutralize some Russian mobsters. Here’s how...
After I give Kyle the rest of my Guiding directives, I exit his head.
* * *
I want to shower, immediately, but that would require having a body, which I currently lack in this Level 2 nether-realm. I quickly distance myself from Kyle and approach the pattern representing my Level 1 self.
It’s pretty obvious what I need to do to phase out.
Touching is what allows me to Read and Guide people, as well as what allows me to exit the Quiet. So to leave this place, I just need to do the equivalent of what is considered touching here. Which happens to be that thing I just did with Thomas’s and Kyle’s patterns.
“Goodbye, Mimir,” I think into the emptiness of Level 2. “I hope we meet again.”
Without waiting for my enigmatic new friend to respond, I focus on trying to surround the pattern that represents me. Again, without moving, I’m simply there.
This is it. I try to become one with my pattern.
Before I even register it, the transition happens, and I’m out.
Chapter 24
Sounds are back. Sights are back. Smells are back. I’m aware of my body—every toe and every tooth—and aware of my body breathing.
It’s amazing how much sensory data our mind absorbs on a second-by-second basis. It’s usually ignored, but right now, I’m aware of it all.
All these senses are glorious.
The relief I feel is overwhelming.
But I have to recover quickly. Things are in motion that I can’t miss.
I quickly take stock of my situation. I’m back in the conference hall. I’m standing near Row 25, surrounded by scientists who were attacking me just a moment ago (from their perspective). But they’ve stopped attacking me. They’re just looking around, confused.
Looks like I bypassed Level 1, aka the regular Quiet. Otherwise, I’d be in the alcove with a knife in my chest. So Mimir’s theory was right, which is awesome, because it means I shouldn’t be Inert.
I try to phase in. The world stops. Except now I know that it isn’t ‘stopped’ so much as slowed to a crawl. Semantics, I think as I run to where Kyle is hiding.
He’s already walking onto the stage when I reach him.
There’s only one reason why he would be walking toward Thomas and I rather than running into the pathway: my Guiding worked and he’s following my instructions. At least, that’s the likeliest explanation.
Can I phase into Level 2 and Read him to make sure?
I try. I do what I’d do in the real world to phase out.
Nothing happens.
I guess I need to work out how to phase into Level 2 at will. Doing it once hasn’t made it easier, just like phasing into the Quiet when I was a kid. I eventually learned how to phase into the Quiet at will, but I hope I won’t have to repeat all those near-death shenanigans this time around. I shudder to think that I might have to have people almost kill me every time I want to enter Level 2. It would make my new talent damn near unusable.
I get back to my body and phase out.
The sounds are back. Kyle runs across the stage and to the stairs that lead off it. In a flash, he’s off the stage again.
When he walks up to Igor, the tallest and biggest of the Russian gangsters, I know without a shadow of doubt that Kyle is following my script. He tells the mobster something. Though I’m too far away to hear him, I know he said, “Don’t move, bitch,” because that’s what I made him say.
He jams his gun into Igor’s side for the same reason. I made him empty the gun of bullets back in his hideout, but Igor the Giant doesn’t know that.
I make my way closer to the stage to see the rest of the scene unfold, but something is nagging at the back of my mind—something that’s distracting me from enjoying my revenge.
Meanwhile, Kyle drags his hostage onto the stage—a place where Victor, great marksman that he is, can shoot him, which is the culmination of my plan.
I notice people looking at the stage in disbelief. I can’t blame them. How often do you see someone be taken hostage? Especially during a science convention? And especially when the hostage taker is half the size of the ‘victim’?
As I get closer to Kyle, I see Victor drilling the stage with his eyes. “Let my colleague go!” he yells. “I give you two seconds.”
Victor has a gun aimed in the direction of the stage, just as I suspected he would. This is it. He’s going to shoot.
Seconds pass, and Victor continues to just stand there with his gun aimed at Kyle. For some unfathomable reason, he’s not pulling the trigger. Gasps begin to emanate from the audience as people start to notice.
I look back. Thomas is walking toward Victor. It’s unclear what Thomas is thinking of doing, but I bet he’s trying to make sure no one gets hurt. That’s good, because it means Thomas won’t open fire in a crowded room and shoot Victor before he has the chance to kill Kyle. Still, Thomas is getting close enough to tackle the guy.
Why the hell is Victor not doing his part?
And then the answer hits me, and I phase into the Quiet.
I run toward the gangster, cursing myself. I explicitly Guided the man not to shoot anyone. So predictably, he isn’t shooting.
It’s impressive he raised the gun at all.
I walk up to Victor and touch his outstretched hand.
* * *
We’re not going to shoot anyone, the thought repeats in our mind like a mantra. Nothing else exists, only the mantra.
I, Darren, disassociate. This strange focus that the Guided possess is a marvel. I took Ritalin—the drug rumored to help with concentration—once, just to try it out. The focus the drug gave me was okay, but nowhere close to the single-mindedness of the Guided. It’s eerie.
Okay, I broke it, so I have to fix it.
You can shoot the guy on the stage. In fact, as a good leader, you must. When he’s dead, you will throw away your gun, because it’s out of bullets.
Happy with my instructions, I exit Victor’s head.
* * *
On my way back to my body, I reinforce my earlier control over Victor’s cronies. They are to remain peaceful observers. I approach my body and linger before phasing out of the Quiet. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing some variable.
Fuck it, I decide, and touch my frozen self’s forehead.
When the sounds of the room return, I realize what’s been bugging me.
I must stop Victor.
I’m not
ready for Kyle to die.
And then, as though defying my thoughts, a shot is fired.
Or did I imagine the gunshot?
I’m not sure because I’m again surrounded by silence. The gunshot, or maybe it was my epiphany, made me phase into the Quiet for the millionth time today.
I run toward Victor, hoping it’s the stress and not an actual gunshot that made me phase in. If it isn’t too late, I’ll Guide Victor to not pull the trigger.
Only when I get there, I see Victor’s gun surrounded by a cloud of smoke.
Shit.
I didn’t imagine it. He did it. He shot Kyle.
I run toward the stage.
Maybe the bullet hasn’t hit Kyle yet. If I can Read him before the bullet does its job, all will be well. I don’t actually care whether the fucker lives. Quite the contrary. I just need information from him, which I can only get if Kyle is still alive.
Getting closer, my heart sinks as I see that the irreversible has already happened.
Kyle’s head is in the process of blowing up.
Victor has lived up to his reputation as a marksman. The bullet hit Kyle right between the eyes.
Chapter 25
As I stand there, looking at my dead enemy, my feelings fluctuate between elation and defeat. Kyle got what he deserved, but I’m too late to get the last piece of information that I need from the bastard.
I sit down on the ground to absorb it all.
I finally understand where that nagging feeling was coming from. I recognize what was familiar about Kyle’s intense focus. As he was thinking about getting rid of these scientists, his thought pattern was nearly identical to that of his victims’. He had the telltale signs of someone being Guided, signs I kept seeing inside the minds of the very people he had Pushed.
