by Drew Hayes
“I don’t want you to do something stupid and endanger yourself, but given our past, I don’t think I have the right to stop you. However, this isn’t just about you. What you do right now can seriously impact the people who trust you. So even if this sucks for a while, just try and bear with it. Please.”
You’re so centered on Vince lying to you and the betrayal you feel over that, have you ever stopped to really ask yourself why he did it?
“You’re such a bastard.” Sasha didn’t turn around; she kept her eyes trained on the dark edges of the room. Everything seemed a little blurrier than before, and Sasha felt something warm on her cheek. “You can’t even let me hate you properly.”
“I’m sorry.” Vince let go of her arm but didn’t make any other motions. She was clearly facing away from him on purpose; he didn’t want to move until she was ready to be seen.
“Of course you’re sorry. You’re always sorry for things you even think you did wrong. I want you to tell me something: why did you lie?”
“Excuses don’t matter, I still did it.”
“I’m the one who got deceived. I get to decide what matters and what doesn’t.” Sasha pretended to run a hand through the side of her hair so she could wipe away the tears with her wrist. It wasn’t a very fluid motion, and she doubted it fooled him, but it was the best she could do.
“I guess that’s fair. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone for our own safety. We didn’t know how people would react. We had a hunch it would put us in danger, at the very least.”
“I’m not asking why you lied to everyone. I’m asking why you lied to me. After everything we shared, after all that time together, did you really think you couldn’t risk your secret with me?”
Vince hesitated, contemplating what to say next. He’d asked himself that question so many times over the past few months, and imagined just as many variations of what he would tell Sasha if given the opportunity currently before him. In the end, he went with the only thing that had ever seemed acceptable to answer with: the truth. “I would have taken the chance and trusted you; I really believe I would have. But it wasn’t my risk to take.”
“You were worried about the others.”
“I was. Letting this out changed everything. It’s made us pariahs and targets. For the rest of our lives we’ll be known as the first batch of freaks, the ones who changed everything. We’ll never get normal lives, not even what passes for normal in the world of Supers. I couldn’t gamble everyone’s future on my faith in anyone, not even the girl I loved. It wouldn’t have been right. Not that what I did was right, either. I had a hard choice and I made it. I’m sorry it hurt you.”
“Me, too,” Sasha said. “Look, let’s just work together and get out of here, okay?”
“Okay,” Vince agreed.
“I’ll check the tombstones on the left, you do the ones on the right. Sooner or later we’ll crack this thing,” Sasha instructed. She headed off toward some graves, doing her best to wipe away the remaining tears as covertly as possible. Vince noticed, of course, but he didn’t say anything; instead he went back to work.
Though they were still trapped in a spooky graveyard room in the middle of a maze, it was curiously peaceful now that all the yelling had dispersed.
59.
The world of Nick’s mind was ridiculously detailed. Mary could hardly believe the intricate design of the tile floor, or the way the occasional table would bear scratches and scuffs, or how every person she encountered was wholly unique. It was evident they weren’t real people, of course; no matter how well-crafted the cigar-puffing men or scantily-clad waitresses were, they still grew hazy at the edges, identifying them as mere chunks of Nick’s mind rather than flesh and blood. Because of that blurring effect, Mary was instantly able to recognize Nick when she found him, which was fortunate because she likely would have missed him otherwise.
Despite the glimpses she’d had into his thoughts, Mary had always imagined the Nick she knew was just a slight variation on the real one. Surely he didn’t wear those silly sunglasses or act as purposefully confounding when he was away from Lander, but she assumed many of his other habits and fashions remained the same. As her eyes fell across the well-dressed young man raking in chips at the poker table, Mary realized just how wrong that assumption had been. His hair was styled in an expert manner, the suit that whispered across his form had clearly been crafted specifically for him, but most distinctive of all was his face. The Nick she knew generally wore a look of affable ignorance, as if he was merely wandering through the world and chuckling at the things that fell across his path. This Nick didn’t conceal his intellect; his eyes roved the world in front of him and devoured every detail they could find. There were no emotions, not even fake ones, decorating his visage. He gave away nothing and took in everything: that was the essence of Nicholas Campbell.
Mary approached slowly, taking the seat of a man who stalked away with a sad look and presumably lighter pockets. The dealer looked at her with a curious glance, and Mary suddenly realized she didn’t have any money to enter the game. The dealer motioned for her to leave and she began to slide off the chair’s vinyl red cushion.
“She stays.” Nick’s voice wasn’t a command, nor was it a request. He spoke like he was calmly discussing geography or math, things that were simply fact. There was no room for denial in his tone; what he said simply was.
“Thank you,” Mary replied, readjusting in her seat.
“No problem.” Nick motioned in the air and a waitress materialized at his side. She carried a clear glass with a brown liquid inside, which she placed next to Nick while collecting the empty ones he’d presumably already drained. Mary noticed the girl had long blonde hair and a familiar facial structure, but declined from mentioning it.
“So your power lets you come into my brain now, huh?”
Mary tilted her head in surprise. “You already know where we are?”
“I didn’t originally. The owl was a good hint.” Nick pointed to the ceiling where Mary could see a snowy white bird sailing between the chandeliers. She recognized it immediately; that species had frequented her forest since before she’d moved to it.
“How did that get here?”
“My guess is that you accidently pulled some of your world into mine when you made the trip. I didn’t start noticing the inconsistencies around here until a few minutes ago, so maybe you crossing over broke whatever part of Rich’s ability keeps us unaware that we’re in an illusion.”
“Seems closer to a dream.”
“Or a carefully controlled coma if we’re splitting hairs. Anyway, the point is, I could sense something that didn’t belong, and that’s when I started getting a feeling none of this was right.”
“You have to admit, this is kind of neat.”
“Of course you’d think that,” Nick scowled. “You’re not the one with a stranger traipsing around in your head.”
“Nothing we can do about it until he frees us.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Nick turned his attention back to the cards just as a pair of hulking male figures appeared behind Mary’s chair. “See, this is place is a perfect replica of my casino, which means the things around here were pulled from my brain rather than constructed by Rich. Knowing that, I can’t just let you wander about. My friends here will show you to the mandatory hospitality suite until we’re both back in the real world.”
“Come on, Nick, aren’t you being silly?”
“I’ve made it comfortable and lavish, so try to take it as a courtesy. I can’t stop you from digging through my thoughts but I’ll be damned if I’ll have you peering through keyholes into the deeper parts of my mind.”
A rough hand settled on Mary’s shoulder. It wasn’t forceful, but it was there to send a clear message.
“If you’d asked nicely I would have promised to just sit here with you. I’m a little insulted by the goon squad; I think it’s time for them to leave.” Mary sent a blast of telekinetic energ
y toward each thug, enough to drive them into and through the walls. Since they weren’t real she didn’t bother with holding back, which made it all the more surprising when neither of them moved an inch.
“Oh, Mary, did you really think your powers would work in here? This is my mind, after all.”
Mary tried again, and again, and again as the security agent on the right gently pulled her from the table and began to escort her toward a set of stairs leading downward.
“Why not just let me stay with you?” Mary called over her shoulder.
“Nothing personal, but I don’t trust you. Besides, I have things to do,” Nick replied, rising from the table and turning his back on the stack of chips resting on the green felt. “A man rarely gets lucid access to a world his own brain has created. This is an opportunity I don’t intend to squander.”
Mary struggled slightly against her muscular escorts, but found neither of them loosened their grips in the slightest. She wasn’t surprised. Nick had already made the truth evident: this was his world, she was merely visiting it. The most she could do was speculate whether he’d been serious about the luxury of her cell and hope Rich released them in short order. Plus think of all the ways she was going to painfully pay him back for this when they got free.
60.
“Ig and Ook?” The two suited figures continued down the hall, each one resting a hand on Mary’s closest shoulder. The hallway was sparse, nothing but stone on every surface, only interrupted by the occasional door. With each one Mary would tense in anticipation, expecting them to hurl her inside and complete her incarceration. So far they had merely kept walking, the final door of her journey not yet having appeared before them.
“Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?” No reaction. Mary was amusing herself by trying to guess the names of her guards. She realized it was possible they were new creations cobbled together just for this purpose, beings who had no real names, but then again it wasn’t like she had anything else to do. She’d already tried reading their minds and moving things with her telekinesis. So far Nick’s words had held true; as long as she was in his mind, her powers didn’t exist. Except they did, in that they were what allowed her to be here in the first place. It was a bit confusing and had begun to give Mary a headache, hence why so moved onto the simpler game of name guessing.
“Watson and Holmes? Kit and Kat? Cloak and Dagger? Come on, guys, and least tell me if I’m hot or cold.” Her attendants remained silent, but as Mary glanced up at them, she noticed a large hand wrap around each of their skulls. With one swift movement and a sharp cracking sound, the two craniums had been struck together and the escorts were collapsed in a heap. Mary turned slowly around, trying to figure out just who there was to help her in a place like this. Whatever she’d expected, what she found was quite different.
“I believe they’re called Tick and Tock,” said Mary’s rescuer. He was tall and lean, with a bald head, a sharp nose, and otherwise unremarkable features except for his eyes. His eyes seemed to sparkle with kindness; they made him seem like the kind of person to be instantly and completely trusted. Given whose mind Mary was currently trespassing in, it was a quality that had the effect of leaving her exceptionally suspicious. “Their names change with Nick’s moods. Mine is more stable; you may call me Gerry.”
“Thanks for the help, Gerry,” Mary said skeptically. “But I’m a little confused. Nick wants me sealed up, and everything in here is a part of Nick’s brain, so why did you knock out the guards?”
Gerry gave her a reassuring smile. “A person is made of more than singular desires. Often they have conflicting impulses, powerful inclinations for things that are opposite in nature. Tick and Tock are part of Nick’s extensive defensive army, the part of him that keeps distance between his heart and the rest of the world.”
“So what are you?”
“I’m the part of Nick that wants to connect to other people. The real Gerry is the one who is largely responsible for my existence, hence why I look this way. He’s quite likely the only person in the world Nick truly trusts, let alone loves. His influence left a crack in your friend’s otherwise impenetrable outer shell.”
“I see. Is that why you saved me?” Mary still wasn’t sure she believed this new mental figment; however, she had to admit he was more pleasant than the last ones.
“Partially. It’s mostly because Nick is trying to find a place in here he shouldn’t go. I need you to stop him.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I’m a piece of him; my input was registered in the subconscious already. It was ignored, as usual, unfortunately. So I’ve decided to pursue more drastic measures.”
“Like using a trespasser to interfere for you. Nice catch of a loophole. You really are a part of Nick.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I have to ask: what reason do I have to trust you? I’m not certain going deeper into Nick’s mind is the safest recreational activity.”
“Mary, right now we are already under the surface layer of his subconscious, that’s why I was able to come help you. Down here I’m an independent component. If you want to wander around without me that’s your choice, but keep in mind that there are far more components to Nick than just myself and the twins. Very few of them are as pleasant as we, and some of them can be downright horrifying. They do have one thing in common you should be aware of: in this place they’re all quite real.”
“You make a compelling case. Lead the way,” Mary said quickly. For the first time she was beginning to understand just how vulnerable she was without her powers. Gerry might be lying out of his ass; however, he at least seemed to have a purpose for saving her. It was the kind of self-serving logic she could believe when dealing with Nick, so she was willing to acknowledge it would make sense for a chunk of his mind to work along the same lines.
At this point, all she could do was follow along and hope Rich woke them up soon.
61.
The shape of Alice’s subconscious might have surprised people who were unfamiliar with her. It wasn’t the large, lavish estate she’d grown up on. That had felt more like a prison in her formative years, a place she was sealed away lest she get too happy and go floating off. It also wasn’t anything from her later life; despite her love of Lander and the people she’d met there, everything about it tended to bubble with stress and worry. Those elements made it unsuitable for a mental stronghold; such places are meant to be points of comfort and serenity. No, Alice’s subconscious was formed in the shape of the only location where she’d ever really been able to let the world and the worries all melt away.
Alice sipped champagne as the expert beautician worked feverously on her pedicure. She’d already sampled the spa’s mud bath and steam room, after this she planned on a lengthy massage to get that pesky knot in her shoulder out. Once that was done, well, who could say where her whimsy would take her? This facility was massive, gleaming white and thick with the scent of candles. It teemed with capable staff ready to accommodate her every desire. Certainly there were a few locked doors that led to deeper areas where things wouldn’t be quite so pleasant, but Mary had burst into Nick’s mind and restored awareness, not Alice’s. So Alice was just fine letting those doors stay locked; she had neither the inclination nor the capacity to go mind-spelunking.
“My, this is a strange scenario.” The voice came from behind Alice’s chair. It was foreign, yet refined and cultured. Alice prided herself on her ability to discern one’s upbringing from their speech patterns, and this one had been strongly influenced by the necessities of high society.
“I didn’t realize there were any other customers here today. Please, take a seat and join me.” Alice had no particular inclinations to share her space; however, someone with a voice like that probably had the sort of power and influence her father fastidiously cultivated. He’d be more than a little put-out if she inadvertently snubbed someone of influence.
“I appreciate the invitation.” The voice stepped for
ward to reveal the man it was connected to. He was tall, though not exceptionally so. His cocoa skin was clad in a well-constructed suit that eschewed the tie in favor of an open-throat shirt. He smiled at Alice with unexpected warmth and she had the strangest sense of déjà vu.
“My pleasure. Would you care for some champagne, Mr...”
“Abridail. Just call me Abridail.”
“Very well, would you care for some champagne, Abridail?”
“Gladly. Not often I see places like this. I feel like I should enjoy it.” Within moments a fresh sparkling glass arrived at his side. He sipped it thoughtfully, pausing to appreciate the quality of the bubbling wine.
“So, if I may inquire, your name is rather unique. Is there a story behind it, or perhaps a unique cultural origin?”
“No, it’s just a fake name I use when I’m off Walking,” Abridail replied, taking another sip. “On the rare occasion people remember me I don’t want them able to track me down.”
“Forgive me, what do you mean by ‘off Walking’?”
“Walking through dreams. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t know this was one; most people don’t. It’s a strange one at that, even for dreams. Barely even qualifies as one. It’s more like someone stuck a blank canvas on display and called it art.”
“This doesn’t seem to make much sense,” Alice said, her relaxation bubble beginning to quiver as it neared a full on burst.
“Don’t worry, it will soon. Once you accept it’s a dream, you get a higher level of control. You tend to like that.”
“Tend to? How would you know that?”
“I’ve visited you in many dreams, Alice. Unfortunately, you’re such a deep sleeper you never remember them. I only keep plugging away because I’m a man of my word and I have a message to deliver.”
“What kind of message can only be delivered through dreams?”
“The sort that is so delicate no one is crazy enough to whisper it aloud, lest God himself should overhear.”