by Dima Zales
But I can’t get back into Headspace. Not even after multiple tries.
I must’ve tapped myself out with too many visions.
I’ll have to resume this tomorrow—and keep a close eye on Felix and the rest of the possibilities in the meanwhile.
I check my phone and learn why I feel so sleepy.
It’s already three a.m.
Exhausted, I trudge through my evening routine, then crawl under the blanket and pass out.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Sasha!” Felix screams from somewhere. “Are you going to Orientation today or not?”
I jolt upright and grab my phone.
Wow.
How could I have almost missed something as important as Orientation?
Stumbling out of bed, I yank on some clothes and open the door.
“Finally,” Felix grumbles. “I assume it’s okay if Maya rides in Nero’s limo with you?”
“Of course.” My voice is sleep-roughened. “Let me freshen up, and we’ll go.”
Teeth brushed and other bathroom business concluded, I let Felix rush me out of the building.
Maya is waiting by the limo.
“Dude,” I whisper to Felix. “Did she walk here alone?”
“Yeah,” Felix says. “I doubt Roxy would have—” He stops, suddenly pale.
Like me, he just realized that it could’ve been Maya’s funeral that I foresaw. Though we’ve just met, I like Maya enough to shed a tear or two if she died—particularly if her passing was particularly tragic and/or I saw Felix cry at her funeral.
Which he would, I’m sure.
Shaking away the unpleasant thought, I greet Maya and tell Kevin we’re late. Then I viciously attack the snack bar while Felix gives Maya an abridged version of the recent events.
Kevin gets us to Queens so fast that it interferes with my digestion. But his speed pays off. Maya and I take our seats in class just as Dr. Hekima walks in.
“Today we continue the subject of the Otherlands,” he says in exactly the same tone as in my vision. “Let’s begin with a quick review of last week.”
He then goes over what I already know—that other universes exist and are called the Otherlands in Cognizant parlance. These worlds/universes each have different stars and galaxies, and even the flow of time can vary among them. There is an infinite number of them as far as anyone knows, but the gates lead to an insignificant portion of that totality.
“I alluded to the dangers of the Otherlands the last time we met,” Dr. Hekima says when he’s done with the recap. “Today I really want to drive home that point.”
He raises his arms and pulsing red energy streams from his fingers into everyone’s heads, indicating that he’s about to use his illusionist powers on us all.
The room goes away, replaced with what looks like a radioactive wasteland.
As soon as my eyes register the landscape, we all start gasping for nonexistent air. Illusion or not, it feels like my lungs are about to burst.
Dr. Hekima snaps his fingers once again, causing the world around us to change to that of a lush forest.
“There are Otherlands where the environment itself will kill you,” he says when everyone recovers their breathing. “But even seemingly friendly ones like this world can have creatures so dangerous no Cognizant dares live or even travel here.”
A cute deer-like creature runs out of the forest.
This Bambi is dangerous? Is he kidding?
Then I see what the Bambi is running away from, and my eyes threaten to jump out and run away in horror.
If the xenomorph creatures from the Alien franchise impregnated one of those wraith-like dementor beings from Harry Potter, the result would look like this—especially if someone then genetically engineered that already horrific offspring to have a plethora of tentacles and teeth.
“That’s a drekavac,” Dr. Hekima whispers, but what he says next is lost on everyone because in that moment the drekavac catches up with Bambi and touches it with one of its pustule-infested limbs.
The poor creature produces an apocalyptically loud, gut-wrenching scream that makes it sound as though it’s losing its soul—an illusion that is enhanced a second later, when the Bambi collapses on the ground like a sack of very dead potatoes.
The monster looms over its victim, but thankfully, Dr. Hekima snaps his fingers again, and we find ourselves back in the classroom.
“Getting killed by a drekavac is the worst fate that can befall anyone,” he says to the shocked classroom. “Their mere touch brings about such debilitating pain that weaker victims die from it.”
He meaningfully looks everyone over.
We’re all mute in horror.
I don’t know about the teens, but I will certainly explore the Otherlands very, very carefully going forward.
“The environment, the flora, and the fauna are just a few of the many ways you can perish in the Otherlands,” Dr. Hekima says. “Some gates are one way only—so no one knows what happens there—and other gates lead to worlds that we, the Cognizant, turned into deathtraps.”
He snaps his fingers, and we find ourselves in a deserted landscape that he seems to have pulled straight from Mad Max movies—right down to a couple of scary-looking hobos chasing some dude.
“This is what’s left of the world where Tartarus last ruled,” Dr. Hekima says just as the two men catch their prey.
The name Tartarus sounds familiar. I think we covered it in Greek mythology class. If I recall correctly, it’s both a figure and a place. The figure was the son of Chaos, and the place was the underworld where souls got tormented in the afterlife.
“The humans on this world know about the Cognizant and rightfully blame us for the desolation,” Dr. Hekima continues, pointing at the endless dunes. “They wait by the gates to catch one of our kind, and if they succeed, they do horrific things to them.”
As though to punctuate his words, the two men start to cannibalize their catch alive.
Before the scene gets even gorier, Dr. Hekima snaps his fingers, bringing us back to the classroom.
Everyone is vampire pale, even Roxy, and I wonder if Felix had fainted at this point of his Orientation.
“In some cases, the gates lead to worlds that a particularly powerful Cognizant took over to gain power.” Dr. Hekima snaps his fingers, and we find ourselves in a dirty dungeon that brings to mind the Inquisition.
“For example, Lilith—a powerful Cognizant who once lived here on Earth—now has a prison world where she forces the human populace to worship her as their one and only god.” He snaps his fingers once more, and we end up back in class. “She’s a capricious and jealous deity,” he continues, “and will imprison or kill any Cognizant who dares to arrive on her world.”
Like Tartarus, Lilith is a name I’ve heard before—in the prior Orientation, when we talked about the super-rare Cognizant with multiple powers. Also, like Tartarus, she’s part of Earth mythology—
“The point I’m trying to make is really simple,” Dr. Hekima says, distracting me from my musings. “Be very careful when traveling to the Otherlands, and do not enter any gates unless you’re absolutely sure where they lead.” To highlight his words, he shows us a glimpse of all the scenes from today in quick succession. “Even if you think you know the gate is safe, I strongly advise you think twice before entering, and definitely wait until you’re done with all of Orientation before you even try. And, it goes without saying that you should bring your Mentor with you every time.”
Oops.
I’ve already ventured out a bunch of times without having finished the course and without dragging Nero with me.
Then again, I bet the point of today is to scare the youngsters, not me. Being older and wiser, I will hopefully not get myself eaten by a drekavac just for thrills—or waltz into a world without oxygen.
“We’re almost out of time.” Dr. Hekima looks at his watch. “Does anyone have any questions?”
My teen classmates still loo
k overwhelmed, but I raise my hand, nearly jumping out of my seat in excitement.
“Yes, Sasha.” Dr. Hekima gives me a warm smile.
I hear Roxy whisper something like “teacher’s pet,” but I ignore her as I rattle out, “Who made the gates? Who discovered the Otherlands? When? How? Could—”
“I had a feeling this might come up.” Dr. Hekima clicks his fingers, and we find ourselves surrounded by a gate hub that looks identical to the one in JFK. “The gate makers are the answer to most of your questions, but before I talk about them, I should talk about teleportation—a rare Cognizant power that creates a rift in reality that allows them to instantly go from place A to place B.”
Everyone nods. They must’ve heard of teleporters before. On my end, I’m shocked at how calmly I accept news of real teleportation power—or drekavacs and Tartarus for that matter.
Is this how it’s going to be going forward? Or would I do a double take on, say, acid vomiting—a power of that Zeitgeist mutant from Deadpool 2? At the very least, I hope I will draw the line at something as strange as Karakasa-Obake—the walking-and-talking umbrella from Japanese mythology that also happens to be a cyclops and wears a sandal—
“Though teleportation usually happens within the confines of a single Otherland,” Dr. Hekima says, “the more powerful of the teleporters can take this to the next level.” He points at the nearest gate. “They can take themselves from world to world.”
He snaps his fingers again, and we end up in another hub. I recognize it as the top of the skyscraper in Gomorrah.
“It is said that the most powerful teleporters would be able to bring another Cognizant with them when they traveled.” He glances at his watch again. “My own conjecture is that the most rare and powerful of them could make gates such as these.” He looks around. “The truth is that no one has met a gate maker in centuries. Some think they have found a paradise world and settled there without providing the rest of us with a gate.”
He changes the scene again, and we’re suddenly in the middle of Times Square—only something about it is unusual.
“I want to leave you with this,” Dr. Hekima says. “If the number of Otherlands is truly infinite, there must be worlds without gates and without us, the Cognizant.” He spreads his hands, and I finally understand what’s slightly different about this Times Square.
There should be occasional Cognizant auras in such a crowded place, but they’re completely missing in this version of New York.
When he sees the recognition on my face, he smiles and says, “I believe the gate makers left some human worlds as sanctuaries without our kind.” He dispels his illusion, and the smell of stale coffee prevalent in the dingy Orientation room hits my nostrils. “Some other worlds might contain exiled Cognizant who can’t join the rest of our kind without a gate maker’s help. Alas, there’s no way to prove these theories of mine, and besides, I’m really out of time now.” He gets up and walks to the door without waiting for any follow-up questions.
I raise my hand anyway but put it down when Dr. Hekima leaves the class.
As soon as he’s gone, my classmates come out of their stupor and start to loudly gather their stuff.
Maya and I finish first and head for the door just as Roxy gives me a dirty look.
Given dreams about funerals and all that, I grab Maya’s elbow and quickly drag her down to the limo, where Felix is waiting for us.
The b-hive stalk after us, but we jump into our ride before they can catch up.
As we pull away, I check on our pursuers through the tinted glass and catch Roxy staring at the limo like a hungry wolf might stare at a delicious lamb.
Deciding to switch attention from one bully to another, I pull out my phone, call Nero, and tell him about the funeral vision.
“You should’ve told me about this yesterday,” he growls when I finish. “I’m heading back to New York right now. Do not leave your apartment until I get back.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, saluting the phone. “I’ll stay home like a good—”
I stare at the phone in outrage. He hung up before I could finish my sarcastic reply.
“I still say yours can be the most dangerous power of them all,” I overhear Maya say to Felix, and when I look at her, her expression is completely serious.
“You really think so?” Felix asks, not helping his case by blushing.
“Let’s take the United States as an example.” She grabs a Coke from the bar. “Computers are now everywhere in this country, which means that a powerful cyberattack can cripple everything from commerce to clean drinking water and beyond.” She takes a sip of her Coke. “So yeah, I’m confident if you put your mind to it, you could be the world’s worst supervillain.”
Felix scratches his head. “There’s the small matter of the Council killing me afterward or during. And”—he shoots me a guilty look—“obviously, I wouldn’t do something like that on moral grounds.”
“All I’m saying is that you don’t give yourself enough credit,” Maya says sagely. “You’re powerful.”
He puffs up, and I suppress a smile. I never thought someone could use “you can cause an apocalypse” as a self-esteem boost, but it seems to have actually worked on Felix.
“Cyberattacks are just one option,” he says. “If I build a whole army of Golems, I could take over the world that way.” As though to punctuate his words, his unibrow dances the robot on his forehead.
“Speaking of your project.” Maya pushes her glasses higher up her nose. “Can I finally see it?”
Felix reddens, and it takes me a moment to figure out why: Maya has just invited herself into his bedroom. And given the mischievous look on Maya’s small face, I bet she did it on purpose.
“I think it’s finished.” Felix looks at me for help, but I feign ignorance. “I didn’t test it out as much as I’d wish, but—”
“This is so exciting.” Maya beams at him. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“I really hope the ‘it’ in question is still the robot,” I mutter under my breath, but Felix must’ve heard me, because he turns a deeper shade of red.
Maya moves on to another topic, but I only listen with half an ear. It’s time for me to resume my research into the funeral vision since I don’t have any evidence that I’ve thwarted it.
Closing my eyes, I get into Headspace and attempt to see the funeral once again.
Just like last night, all I accomplish is a glimpse into a random family tragedy instead of my target.
A few more futile attempts later, Kevin pulls up next to our building, and Felix, Maya and I head upstairs.
“Do you want to see Golem with us?” Felix asks when we enter.
“Can I take a raincheck on that?” I take off my shoes and sneak a peek at Maya’s face. She looks relieved I refused. “I’m going to change and chillax for a bit,” I continue. “Maya, will you stay with us for dinner this time? I still owe you a pseudo demonstration of your own powers.”
“My parents are waiting for me at home again,” she says with a pout. “But maybe another day?” She looks meaningfully at Felix.
“Do you want to have brunch with us next weekend?” Felix asks.
“I do,” Maya says solemnly.
“Great,” Felix says. “It’s this way.”
He beelines for his room.
Ignoring my wink, Maya rushes to follow him, and soon after they walk into his bedroom, I hear an excited squeal.
“I hope she’s impressed with his robot and not something else,” I say to no one in particular.
Shaking my head, I walk into the kitchen to get some water and stop dead in my tracks.
What’s happening under the kitchen table makes no sense at all. Instead of the one chinchilla that I’m used to, I’m seeing two—and that isn’t the weirdest part.
That would be what the two chinchillas are doing. One—the male, I presume—has mounted the other, his little front paws near her ears. To call this humping would be an understat
ement; he’s shaking as though he’s having a seizure. There’s also loud chirping.
Somehow the whole thing is more cute than disturbing—and that in itself is disturbing, isn’t it?
“Fluffster,” I say when I recover my speech. “What are you doing? Who are you doing?”
They go at it for a few more seconds, then separate. The chinchilla that was on bottom runs out from under the table and instantly turns into Kit.
A completely naked Kit.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says. Looking down at Fluffster, she adds, “Thank you.”
She leaves, but I keep standing there, unsure what to say or do.
“Can I have some oatmeal?” Fluffster says in my head.
I rush to help him out, grateful for something to do.
When he starts munching, I blurt out, “Do you want me to get you a girl chinchilla?”
“What?” He looks up. “No. Of course not. An animal cannot give consent.” He grabs another piece of oatmeal with his tiny paws. “You might as well ask me if I want to get it on with the cat.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, then adds, “You probably should keep Kit away from the cat.”
“Good thinking,” I reply and barely restrain myself from adding that I hope he didn’t catch any supernatural herpes today.
He finishes the oats and looks up. “Can I use my dust bath now?”
“Sure,” I say, and we go to my room.
I pour fresh dust into the bath and let Fluffster use it. Then I change the dust right away, even though it’s usually good for several sessions. Because—sex cooties.
“Let me check on her,” Fluffster says and scurries out of the room.
“Right,” I say. Only after he leaves do I add under my breath, “Who knew the domovoi were such considerate lovers.”
Fluffster doesn’t reply in my head, so I sit down on the bed—which is when a wave of inexplicable emotional agony slams into me.
If this were Star Wars, I’d label it “a great disturbance in the Force,” but as is, it can only be one thing.
This has to do with the funeral vision.
Someone I love is in mortal danger.
