“Sure enough, just as my calm diluted, the wind picked up again. I waited a few minutes to see if the wind would stop again and it didn’t. So I tried the earth-hand thing again and almost immediately the calm feeling came back. Not ten seconds later the wind died down to nothing. Remember, it was a blustery April day before all that.”
Marcel nodded.
“I know it sounds crazy but I did it again and again, probably five or six times that day.”
“Did you mention it to anyone?”
“I tried describing it to my mom but she brushed it off. I did it several more times over the years. Once with a girl from the neighborhood.”
“What did she make of it?”
“It frightened her, I think. She’d never imagined anything like it. I was just relieved. I would’ve been embarrassed if it hadn’t worked.”
Silence grew thick as the nearby rocks. The two men looked at each other and back at him. With Edward it seemed the wind story might be really important. The reaction now was much less than what he’d expected. Feeling uncomfortable, he added, “That’s it. I’d love an explanation if you have one. I’ve always wondered about it.”
Marcel smiled. “I can help you understand better but can’t fully explain it, at least not today. Let’s begin. Edward mentioned you used to play a lot of video games. Countless hours spent immersed in virtual worlds, living fantastic experiences. That tells me a high-resolution display system, acting in sync with a sound system, provided enough stimuli to transport you, a willing participant, away from... your desk. Away from the real world, for hours on end. Is that right?”
He shrugged. “Sure, in a way.”
“Would you say your ability to experience an alternate reality is a skill you possess?”
“If that’s what you want to call it, yeah. Most people do.”
“All right then, good, there is that and it is an important skill. Keep it in mind. Now, you have a basic understanding of physics? Yes, so you understand that matter is comprised of atoms of varying types. In each atom, there are smaller components still, in the form of nucleons – you know, protons and neutrons. And nucleons are made up of even smaller bits. Yes?”
“I’m familiar with most of that, yeah. Strings. Quantum level stuff.”
“Perfect, yes. Now, overlay that bit of knowledge onto the world immediately around you.” He gestured widely. “This. Speaking in terms of video graphics, what kind of resolution do these bits offer us?”
“Really super high.”
Marcel nodded with a smile. “So, put simply, we’re in a kind of grid. A very high-resolution, three-dimensional display system. We call it Raon. That’s an old Celtic term for ‘field’. Raon is where we experience the physical. It is the hard, real world. It defines what we are.” He cocked his head slightly. “Well, what our bodies are anyway.”
Austin looked to the rocks. A lizard shifted under his gaze, as if uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny. “Alright,” he looked back. “What else is there? Soul?”
Marcel sipped his drink. “You’ve left your body so you know right off there’s something about you that isn’t anchored to that bag of bits.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure I could do it again. Not on command, anyway.”
Meng stood suddenly and gestured towards the house. Marcel responded. “Okay then, let’s head inside. A little warm out here, I think.”
He followed them inside to the family room. Meng closed the patio doors and drew the blinds closed.
“What gives?”
Marcel shook his head. “Don’t mind for now. Grab a couch.” He headed into the kitchen. “Do you want a refill? No?”
Marcel was smoothing, calming himself as much as he was him.
“Are they close?”
Marcel answered from the kitchen. “Sometimes.”
Meng left his position by the doors. Whatever had been wrong was now less of an issue.
Marcel returned with a full glass in hand. “Okay where were we? The soul question, yes? So of course we have the five famous senses, shaping our earthly experience, programming our internal TV. What do you suppose the sixth sense is, Austin?”
“A psychic ability?”
Marcel raised an eyebrow.
“You know, the ability to read minds, see the future. Psychic stuff.”
Marcel switched eyebrows and asked, “Really? ‘Psychic stuff’?”
“C’mon, you know what I mean.”
He smiled. “Close enough. Your sixth sense is rooted in something you aren’t aware exists. Edward spoke to you of the language of vibes, yes? Those vibes are real and they originate as a result of your thoughts, at the quantum level. Yes, they are slight, even weak, but they don’t have to be strong because of the field in which they operate.”
“The field? In Raon?”
“Yes, but in Raon’s fifth element.”
“What?”
“Earth, water, air, fire. The four classic elements. Our senses are most tuned to them. But there is a fifth element and your sixth sense is tuned to it.”
“And what is the fifth element?”
“It is... a little like air, a little like water, only it is everywhere. You know water carries sound four times faster than air? Yes, that amplification, it is the same effect the fifth element has with our vibrations. A tiny disturbance travels well beyond its origins.”
“So it’s a conductive field. Conducting electricity.”
“Conductive yes, but not of electricity.”
“You’re losing me.”
Marcel nodded his understanding. “When Edward talked about vibes and frequencies, he used familiar terms to explain something more exotic. Your brain emits signals, yes, detectable by EEG devices, but those signals are just the ionic waves generated by the firing of neurons interacting with the electrons on the metal of sensors. They are of little consequence beyond measuring neural activity. There is another kind of signal that the brain emits and its properties are not measurable with common sensors.”
“Edward’s wifi of the soul?”
“Yes. And to grasp what this is, you must understand what you really are."
"And what am I really?"
"The prefix ‘meta’ comes from a Greek preposition meaning after, beside, or with. You are, in fact, ‘with’ your body. You, your self, the meta you, is using your body.” He smiled, noting Austin’s expression.
“So are you talking about the soul or not?”
“Not the soul you know. Religion’s concept of soul is old, vague, and misleading – by no means an accident, believe me. No, meta is very different from that soul."
“Meta.”
“Yes, meta. The fire that flows through all life, igniting the design that it inhabits. Humans, animals, even plants and microorganisms have it. It flows through your brain and captures your earthly experience, is imprinted by it. Without it, we would have no identity, no self, no soul to experience the moment, and no memories. It is what vibrates with meaning, sending information outward from one’s self into the fifth element. It can be directed, just as a laser can illuminate only a chosen target. Or it can be broadcast, like sound from a bullhorn.”
“So you’re saying thoughts transfer into a shared field?”
“Yes, they do, unless you contain them. A skill more people need, frankly. The sixth sense allows the brain to work on information from meta. Combined with the other five senses, the brain does an incredible job with computation, comparison, conversion of sounds and imagery to meaning, calculating diverse concepts of all things under the sun and the result is...”
“Human thought.”
“Precisely. Human experience, which in reality is compromised more of sixth sense input than input from your five senses. What you experience most has a lot to do with non-physical input, from sources and connections you don’t realize exist.” Marcel paused again, as if measuring his absorption before continuing. He appeared satisfied. “The body is just the vehicle, the 4x4 of Raon.
Meta is what we are, what we are being with. The idea of it is buried by science and western culture, neither of which will allow for it. Which leads us to your next sense.”
“A seventh sense?”
“Do you really think we are so simple?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Meta location, for lack of a better description. It is knowing where and on what you are focused. The very tip of that focus is called your rathad. It is the most basic element of who you are, of your meta. Where rathad goes, so does your experience. In your mind or outside of it. That sounds simple and it both is and isn’t. You’ll have to decide for yourself later.”
“Meta. My rathad. Seventh sense. Okay. What’s all this mean? Nutshell.”
“It means you’re a guest in that body. Plugged in securely, mated seamlessly, synchronized completely. Naturally. You are the meta to your body, an exquisite and exotic energy form that you recognize only peripherally and label as your consciousness. Your science-based culture made sure you would never believe you weren’t the body. Your religion-based culture made sure you believed your soul was inherently flawed and at great risk of being stolen by demons or punished by a vengeful god. Culture made sure your ignorance of meta was cemented. Culture, the purveyor of doubt, the hard ridge of containment as well as the father of intense and blinding ego. Global control would be impossible without the manipulation of culture and ego. The truth is hidden right out in the open, cleverly disguised and made complex and confusing. As a result, the grid is both the playground and the prison for humanity.”
He exhaled heavily and thought for a moment. “Alright. There’s stuff happening in the background that we’re not taught.”
Marcel nodded. “Oh, quite a lot of stuff. More than I’ve shared.”
“It’s meta then, the ‘meta me’, that can travel beyond my body. Why don’t I recognize this ‘meta’ self? Why don’t I even know how to think about it? I can’t just pop out of my body any time I want. It takes special circumstance.”
“Programming. Lack of experience. Everyone is their meta self and are influenced moment to moment by the flow of meta, both their own and those around them. As for traveling, you will learn to recognize meta, to the point of it feeling physical. You will master your meta self and life will get interesting after that.”
“You mean more interesting.”
Marcel smiled. “Precisely.”
“And what about the wind? Nothing you’ve said addresses that.”
He leveled a gaze at Austin. “I can tell you that Raon is not as stable as we are taught. Its underlying structure is reliant on a kind of quantum foam, which is reliant on certain... unique variables. Put simply, some people have the ability to disturb the foam. You are one of them.”
“I am?”
“Almost certainly.”
“How do I do it?”
“The mechanics are complex and not fully understood yet. What we do know is that it involves elevated quantum activity in your neural functions. With the addition of certain proteins and frequency therapy directed at your brain, the activity can be scaled up, making a method of entanglement possible – a synchronization of thought and intention with the underlying quantum fabric of matter. You already touched on it and apparently have a naturally elevated affinity. That is what most excites Edward. Many of us, to be honest. Part of your future will no doubt involve trying to enhance those functions.”
“Protein additions?”
“More on that later, but right now we’ll talk a bit about dreams and then it will be time for the stress test. Time for a little nap.”
• • •
The headlights of the stolen Audi scoured the pavement ahead, a shining lance that pulled them safely along towards Elburg. After the shooting, the train station parking lot at UitGeest provided a new transport. Ensconced in black leather, Johan and Anki fed on the composure of the sedan. Soft jazz provided relief from the mad dash of the past couple hours.
Just before midnight they passed the coastal town of Enkuizen and turned onto the Markerwaarddijk, a narrow strip of land separating the IJsselmeer and Markermeer lakes. For thirty kilometers the nearly-full moon traveled with them and acted as an anchor in the unpredictable night. There was no use discussing their situation – it was too extreme and would play out with escape or capture. Instead they agreed to stay in the bubble of the moment and began exploring the gap between online and real life. Twenty kilometers in, their alchemy bore evidence of compatibility, a good sign should the future allow them a chance.
Leaving the Markerwaarddijk, they passed two police cars stopped on the shoulder. Officers retrieved fold-out barricades from their trunks.
Anki tensed. “Checkpoints?”
Johan transitioned onto the rural N302 inland, slipped the Audi into its highest gear, and accelerated smoothly. The glowing road markers ticked by in a blur. “Just ahead of their net. Doing good.”
Around one-thirty they arrived in Johan’s neighborhood and drove past the house. City crews had done the courtesy of installing plywood over the damaged second story window. Seeing and sensing no danger, they circled back and went inside.
Johan went online and secured airline tickets to Brazil using Max Dosch’s credit card; departure just after noon. While Anki showered on the third floor, he gathered materials from hiding spots around the house to prepare the templates for her Dutch identity card and passport. She needed a makeover for the visa picture and she needed a name.
“Andrie Van Gelder.” The name came to him, an old school mate.
Upstairs, he retrieved the makeup kit from the bathroom closet. He paused as Anki opened the shower door and stepped out, her body glistening. “I don’t want to be morbid, but I was just thinking… this may be our last chance ever.”
The surge returned, energies intermingled, polarizing into the give and take pattern, drawing them into a kiss. He engaged the mesh of her awareness and slid past lowered defenses to settle into a molten bed of desire. The walls of her experience were tensile-strength loyalty and commitment – focused solely on him. Her commitment went far deeper than he would have imagined. In that moment, real love broke out, the molecules of its reality saturating all, usurping safeguards, filling emotional reserves, and forging a bond. At the same time came recognition of a liability being born. He chose not to suppress any of it; it was what it was.
• • •
The comm buzzed. It was his assistant. “Signus 1 is reporting a return on A2. The riders are vectoring now.”
Director Tomov turned to the wall monitors in his office. “Give me the control room feed, all audio.”
“Patching now.”
“...familiar, agreed. He’s back where he started.”
“Fragments. A blonde. Anki?”
“Has to be. Can’t see her yet but they must be having a helluva time.”
“What is that? Anyone getting that? Is he trying to block us?”
The lead cut in, taking charge. “Refocus, regroup. Boundaries?”
“Amsterdam wide, between the city and the border with Germany. Arnhem, north to the sea.”
“Tighter. Wait... now, he’s going for it. Strong point, follow me!”
Like in a game of Marco Polo, the riders scanned, conveying their feedback to the leader, providing measurements of the signals emanating from the target. “Keep tightening. I’m starting the push.”
Just as the lead began the active pressure towards A2, a black hole, a nothingness bloomed. Stunned, he held and tried to pierce it. The four waited passively, not saying a word. Their silence conveyed their own confusion.
“Irregularity there. The target’s still up. Do we have them?”
With some hesitation, all four refocused and checked in, confirming yes. The lead moved again and cautiously applied pressure to the target... for the slightest of returns.
“Vector!”
They narrowed to a twenty square kilometer radius before the blackness returned to interrupt.
>
“Irregularity again. Significant blocking. He’s still up but something’s wrong here. We need another panel. Forty percent urban coverage over twenty square klicks to deal with.”
“Confirmed. Requesting a second panel. Field teams are deploying to the area.”
Director Tomov signaled his assistant. “Is A2 doing that or is someone else involved? Tell them I want a firm analysis.”
• • •
Anki gripped Johan’s arms, eyes locked onto his, and matched rhythm. She’d let go from the start, surrendering physically, then completely. He flowed through her like a narcotic, birthing intimate, provocative emotions. In the smallest center of her being, she knew him directly, felt the charge of his thoughts, the pulse of his soul. She went to join him there, following a thin thread of possibility.
As if waiting for her arrival, he released a love so rich and genuine that she was overcome. Soul to soul, the feeling bloomed until tears welled in her eyes. It felt an eternity she’d waited for just that moment. Their love, not only her own. The sharing triggered an avalanche that drove the arc and cadence of their bodies. She cried out and dug her fingers into his back, soaring through a timeless pleasure with ancient rhythm.
Time snapped back in line when Johan shifted awareness. A wedge formed between them, creating a space tinged with fear. The others were returning.
“They’ll find us,” she whispered.
“No.” His presence surged, an almost physical bending of thought that drew her into him. She cast off again, surrendering to a joining more consuming than any she’d ever imagined.
• • •
Afterward, it wasn’t clear why it worked. They’d started to track him at the wrong damn time, at their most vulnerable. Defiance led him to conjure a very empty, very useless mental image, grossly negative and heavy. It appeared as an object, hidden from Anki in a split space. He used the object, fully intending to block them, like clamping a hand over a camera lens. The pressure abruptly halted. He’d done it three more times before he and Anki finished.
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