by Dima Zales
“No.” She shakes her head. “I was, but I’ve recovered now. I ran out of Depth during the trip, when I woke up from being drugged and tried to figure out where we were, but as of this morning, I have a couple of minutes of my Depth back. It’s not a lot, so we might need to use Hillary’s Mind Dimension, but I can certainly help Liz.”
“Oh, great.” I suppress an irrational flare of jealousy as we start walking again. I’d kill for even a couple of minutes of Depth right about now.
“Yeah, it’s going to be very interesting,” Liz says. “Would make for a great research paper, if only such things were allowed.”
“I see. You want to use my moms as Guinea pigs.” I nod a silent thanks to Thomas for holding the cafeteria door, and gesture for Mira and Liz to go in ahead of me.
“I think it could be a very effective method of therapy,” Liz says, accepting my chivalry with a smile.
“She might be right,” Mira says as she follows. “This sounds like a way to minimize their distress while still giving them all the information.”
“Wait, Liz,” I say when I’ve caught up. “You don’t mind if I tell them about the existence of Guides, right?”
I’m prepared for a negative answer; I've always suspected she was on the conservative side of this issue.
“I don’t mind,” Liz says without hesitation. “Provided you take full responsibility for them knowing, by which I mean you will Read and Guide them to make sure they don’t do something crazy—like go to a newspaper.”
“Of course I will, and in any case, they wouldn’t,” I say, realizing Liz doesn’t know that my Inertness might be permanent.
“Then why would I mind?” Liz smiles. “I don’t see how else you could explain Thomas’s situation without delving into such matters.”
“Speaking of that,” I say. “Thomas, how about you? Are you ready for this?”
Thomas’s voice thickens as he says, “I don’t even know what to say . . .”
“He’s been dreaming of this, I assure you,” Liz says, and Thomas gives her an unreadable look.
Is this why she’s being so accommodating? For Thomas’s sake?
Instead of voicing any of this, I just say, “Well, good. Hopefully, the shock of the truth will obscure the parts where I was almost killed. Though when it comes to Sara, I’m still worried.”
“We’ll take care of it.” Liz winks at Mira. “Don’t you worry.”
I can’t help but think how amazing it is that Mira and Liz—or Mira and any Guide—are working together. If someone wanted to put the Elders’ dream of peace to the test, this would be the way to do it. If they (Mira especially) don’t rip each other’s hair out, there’s hope that our people can come to an understanding.
We select a secluded table in the cafeteria, and Thomas instructs Hilary to find us there. Meanwhile, Liz brings everyone some food. Having worked up an appetite during our walk, I decide to have a doughnut and coffee, which pleases Mira disproportionally.
As we eat our food, Liz explains her proposed Reading/Guiding process to Mira in greater detail while I plan out what I’m going to say to my moms when they get here.
* * *
“Darren, what happened to your face?” My mom Sara’s voice is predictably tense and high-pitched. I hope Mira and Liz are on it, as Sara’s on the verge of hyperventilating.
Thankfully, Liz and Mira don’t disappoint. They look slightly distracted for a second, and then Sara noticeably relaxes—well, relaxes as much as Sara can. She probably now feels the normal amount of anxiety a parent should experience upon seeing her offspring banged up.
In other words, she looks as worried as Lucy.
It seems as though Mira and Liz are successfully working together—so far, at least. I wonder whether they bickered while in the Mind Dimension. Damn it. If I weren’t Inert, I could’ve been there to see for myself.
“I’m okay, Mom,” I say to Sara. “Please, sit.”
I try to project health and vitality—not an easy feat when you’re brimming with as much morphine (or was it oxycodone?) as I am.
“Those stupid bandages probably make me look worse than I actually am.” I figure telling them the truth doesn’t mean I need to burden Sara with the gory medical details about my ribs, concussion, ankle, et cetera. The truth is, physically, I am okay, or will be soon enough.
They sit down, and Lucy asks, “Did someone do this to you, or was it an accident?”
Her voice is calm, but I recognize a dangerous question when I hear one. That is, the answer would be dangerous for whomever I might name as the responsible party. She’s in that lioness mode of thinking.
“I fell on the ground and got bruised,” I say. Then, much less confidently, I add, “I also got into a little fight, but the person can’t bother me anymore, Mom.”
I take a nervous sip of my lukewarm coffee and prepare for an avalanche of follow-up questions.
I see Lucy mentally put on her detective hat, but a second later, she looks unnaturally relaxed and doesn’t ask me whatever it was she was about to ask. Liz, who’s sitting on my left, winks at me, and Mira bumps my knee with hers, signaling that team Mira and Liz scored again.
Hillary is sitting very quietly, which tells me my friends have briefed her in the Quiet and are likely using her prodigious Reach to help with their task. Usually, they would’ve used me. That thought heightens my feeling of being left out of those secret, outside-of-time conversations. Then again, maybe I should get used to it.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys,” I say. I rehearsed this line in my mind a million times over. “It’s going to be hard to believe.”
I prove how much of an understatement my preamble was by hitting them with factoid number one: the secret existence of Readers and Guides.
Predictably, my suspicious detective mom and her ever-skeptical, scientifically minded partner look unconvinced. So we give them demonstrations that makes the stuff I did for Bert at the airport look like a cheap magic trick. Mira tells them to think of random facts, and then tells them what those facts are. I talk about information I gleaned from them the two times I Read far into their past, such as their trip to Israel, the funeral of the M&Ms (their nickname for my parents), and that time Lucy had drinks in a bar with Kyle and my dad. I mention details that only they would know.
To clinch the deal, we ask Hillary to perform a Guiding demonstration. My aunt makes everyone in the cafeteria, including my moms, dance the Macarena. As my moms watch the others dance, their resolve noticeably waivers. In the end, though, I’m confident that the reason they finally look as if they’ve accepted this incredulous information is because of Liz and Mira’s secret manipulations. Otherwise, this process would’ve likely taken a few weeks of nonstop demonstrations. My moms are just that skeptical by nature; plus, they long ago adopted the illogical attitude of ‘Darren knows stuff he shouldn’t because he’s that smart.’
“Okay.” Lucy crosses her arms. “Assuming we believe you, why do I get the feeling that there’s a lot more to this than telepathy and hypnosis?”
“Reading and Guiding,” I correct her. “And yes, you’re right. There is more. It has to do with my parents.”
I proceed to tell them how the M&Ms—Mark and Margret—were respectively a Reader and a Guide. I tell them a little bit about the animosity between the two groups, and how things are changing. When I talk about the wars between Readers and Guides, I surprise even my friends when I mention how my Reader great-grandfather killed my Guide great-grandfather. Since it looks as if my moms are taking all this in stride, I move on to trickier information. I tell them how my biological mother used her powers on them, making it so they couldn’t speak about me not being Sara’s biological son for many years. I include this last tidbit as an extra bonus, since I’m sure they—and Sara especially—harbor guilt over keeping that fact from me for as long as they did. Their eyes widen as I tell them this part of my tale, but at regular intervals, Liz and Mira m
ust do their magic, because Lucy and Sara calm down and accept the information relatively meekly.
“So you can do both? Read minds and make people do things?” Sara asks. “And your time-stopping delusions were actually for real?” She looks at Liz.
“She probably owes you a big refund,” I say, thinking of all the therapy to cure me of my ‘delusions.’ “Anyway, it’s probably more accurate to say that I did Read and Guide—past tense.”
They look surprised, so I do my best to hide my sadness and explain, “The situation has changed. I can’t do either at the moment, and there’s a chance I’m like you now—well, almost like you, since no one can Read or Guide me in my current state.”
Sara looks at me worriedly, as if she actually understands what I’ve lost. Seeing the pity in her eyes only worsens my ache for the Quiet.
Lucy has been looking troubled throughout all of this. Seems like even Liz’s juju hasn’t been enough to completely sidetrack Lucy’s analytical brain.
“So,” she says in that ‘about to uncover a secret’ voice. “People get amnesia when someone Guides them to do something that’s too out of their character, right?”
“Hmm, I think I know where you’re going with this, honey,” Sara chimes in. “For some reason, I can’t recall the last couple of days. Did one of you—”
“I’m sorry,” Hillary says. “I made it so the two of you wouldn’t worry about your situation, which, given that you were kidnapped and all, probably made you forget certain things in the process.”
“We were kidnapped?” Lucy’s more shocked by this than by some of my earlier revelations. Or perhaps Liz dropped the ball and didn’t stop her from worrying.
Sighing, I proceed to tell them the lengthier tale of how the Enlightened, my biological grandparents, kidnapped the two of them, Mira, and Thomas to use as leverage against me. As I talk, I feel as though either Liz is slipping in her duties or my moms are getting more resistant to her treatment, because the idea of being kidnapped and then forgetting about it seems to be causing them noticeable distress. If I could phase in, I’d have a talk with Liz about it. As is, I just give her a look, and she surreptitiously gives me an okay sign. Whatever distress they’re feeling, my guess is she’s allowing it on purpose.
Lucy’s face darkens as she says, “Are you done beating around the bush?”
“What do you mean, Mom?” I ask with concern, though again, Liz is nodding as if everything is cool.
“There’s a big secret. Something very disturbing that I was made to forget.” She doesn’t ask this; she states it as fact. “That’s why I’ve been going to see her.” She points to Liz. “That’s why I have this lost time . . . these gaps in my memory.”
Sara looks worriedly at Lucy, but then suddenly, her face relaxes. Whatever Liz’s strategy is, worrying Sara is not part of it.
“Yes, Mom,” I say, deciding to go with it. “There’s something so big that I don’t know how to tell you.”
“Give me the worst of it,” Lucy says, staring at me. “And give it to me straight.”
“Kyle made you kill my parents,” I blurt out, wishing someone would Xanax me for this part. “He used you as his weapon. You shot them, and then he made you forget about it. He also tried to have you kill yourself later.”
My moms look shellshocked, and that’s after whatever Liz did.
As I watch Lucy’s face, I see how quickly her shock gives way to quiet contemplation.
“Of course,” she whispers to herself. “That’s why I couldn’t solve the cursed case.”
She must feel like medieval people did when they learned the Earth isn’t flat.
After murmuring to herself for a few more seconds, she looks at me and says, “As bad as that is, I think there’s something worse. Something you still haven’t told me.” She takes in a breath. “Something deeper. Something that also has to do with Kyle.” She says his name with trepidation.
Hoping Liz has planted the necessary seeds, I gently say, “There is, and as bad as it is, it might not be all bad.”
I look at Thomas and feel a treacherous knot in my throat.
“Kyle . . . he—” I swallow. “He forced you to . . . to sleep with him.” I try to control my voice to keep it from cracking. “You had a child . . .”
She looks horrified, but there’s also a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. Liz prepared her for this, but at the same time, nothing could ever prepare a woman to learn she was raped. Nothing could prepare her to learn she was forced to give up her baby.
I watch her realize how she was wronged, and it pains me to watch the turbulent emotions kaleidoscope across her face. Finally, tears form in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, Lucy quietly sobs.
Sara hugs her, her own face showing her incomprehension.
“What—what happened to . . . ” Lucy’s unable to finish her thought as another bout of grief takes hold and wrenches more emotions out of her.
“That’s the happy part,” I say, tears sliding down my face. “It’s Thomas.” I gesture at my friend, who’s been sitting on her right. Now that I look at him, I see that Thomas’s typically emotionless face is tense and twisted with sorrow.
Lucy turns and stares at him intently.
She keeps on looking for what feels like a dozen heartbeats without saying a word. Is she in shock?
Thomas stares back at her, and then suddenly, they hug.
She’s sobbing loudly, and he’s looking pretty emotional, especially for Thomas.
They speak softly to each other, and I can only hear pieces of what they’re saying.
“I knew something was special about you the first time we met,” I think I hear her whisper.
“You’re exactly how I always imagined you’d be,” I hear him say.
I feel as if I’m invading their privacy, listening in like this, so I wipe my face with my sleeve and look away.
Liz, her voice choked-up, says, “Why don’t we take a walk and give them a moment?”
Everyone complies in a dazed manner.
“Sara,” Liz says when we’re far enough away from the mother-son reunion. “Why don’t you take a walk with Hillary and me? We can answer any questions you have.”
“Thank you,” Sara says, her tone zombie-like. I think Liz overdid it with the Xanax therapy.
“Are you okay?” Mira asks, wiping the moisture from her cheeks with her index finger.
“I think so,” I lie, cognizant that Liz is still here. “I’m glad it’s done. I’m glad they know.”
“Darren, isn’t that Eugene over there with your little friend? And there’s a woman with them,” Liz says, her voice once again composed.
I look at where she’s pointing. I see Eugene running toward us, and I do mean running. Bert is accompanying him, and to my huge surprise, Julia—Eugene’s ex-girlfriend and the almost-mother of my child—is with him too.
Hands on her hips, Mira stalks toward her excited sibling. I follow as fast as my hurt ankle will allow.
“Zhenya, what the hell?” Mira’s voice has that irritated quality it sometimes gets when she’s exposed to too many emotions. She points at Julia. “And why bring her here?”
Eugene looks from his sister to Julia, then back at his sister. “Julia has nothing to do with my news. I was just showing her the mobile lab, so she was around when I made this discovery.”
“Tell him already,” Bert says. “Tell him what happened. You know he’s probably dying to know.”
“Yes, sorry,” Eugene says. “Darren, I have good news for you.”
“Just tell him.” Bert looks as if he’s about to start jumping up and down.
“I can Read him now.” Eugene jerks his thumb at Bert. “Him and Kiki.”
“I tried also,” Julia says, “to make sure.”
Mira looks thoughtful for a second.
“I just Read Bert also.” Narrowing her eyes, she buttons up the top of her shirt and says, “Thank you, Bert. It seems the
y were indeed showing.”
Bert turns beet red, but I ignore him.
Instead, I do my best to process this development.
“You’re saying I’ll recover my Depth?” I ask, hardly daring to let myself hope. “That I won’t be Inert forever?”
“Correct,” Eugene says. “My dad’s calculations were off. I was always better with math, and I should’ve triple-checked before worrying you so much.” He smiles sheepishly. “It will take twice as long as your regular Inertness, but you will certainly recover.”
I don’t even say thank you. Tears blur my vision, and I suppress a sniff. This hospital must be atypically dusty, and all this dust is clearly causing my allergies to act up—again. Bert and Eugene look at me as if I sprouted a second head. They don’t know how allergic I sometimes get, especially when I’m around my crying moms.
I’m so full of happiness that I get this odd feeling, like if I currently had my powers, I’d jump right into Level 2 from all the emotions running through my system.
I’m overwhelmed with relief—brimming with it. I don’t know whether this state is somehow related to the rollercoaster of emotions I just went through with my moms, or if I really feared losing my powers that much, but in this moment, I feel like a disaster survivor.
I grab Mira and give her a deep kiss, like the sailor in the famous V-J Day in Times Square photograph.
As I kiss her, I finally feel like everything will be all right.
I feel unstoppable elation.
I feel like myself.
~THE END~
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If you like epic fantasy, I also have a series called The Sorcery Code (click HERE). Additionally, if you don’t mind erotic material and are in the mood for sci-fi romance, you can check out Close Liaisons, my collaboration with my wife, Anna Zaires (click HERE).