Obsidian: Birth to Venus (The Obsidian Chronicles Book 1)

by Marisa Victus

  Jai took Aida’s welcoming hand. “Pays to have a doctor for a friend,” Jai said, and limped around the rest of the evening, hopping from guest to guest. The villa was packed to capacity, likely the biggest party they’d thrown that year. Morning came too soon.

  “Jai, how are you feeling?” Mom joined her in the kitchen, poured herself a glass of orange juice, and stroked her back.

  “Uh, good.” Jai didn’t know how to tell her.

  “Let me have a look-see.” Mom donned her reading glasses and came in for closer inspection. She looked up, puzzled. “Where’s your splint?”

  “I took it off.”

  “What? Why’d you do that?” Mom looked at her admonishingly. “I know you love to go-go-go, but seriously Jai, you broke it. It needs to heal.”

  “Um, actually…it doesn’t.”

  “What are you talking about? You were hobbling around all evening.” Jai began to stand, but Mom pushed her back in her chair. “Sit tight,” she ordered, and elevated Jai’s foot. She placed her hands on the toe. She touched it delicately, searching Jai’s face for a reaction. Jai shot her a blank stare. “What’s going on here?” Mom applied greater pressure. “Do I have the wrong foot?” She looked under the counter for Jai’s left leg.

  “Nope. You’ve got it right.”

  “Hold up. That doesn’t make sense. I saw it myself when Aida splinted it last night. Toes do not face that way.”

  “I know, Mom. I don’t know what to say. I saw it myself too. And, it hurt like a motherfucker when it broke. I don’t know how to explain it. I know I broke it. I wasn’t even able to walk normally last night. But, I woke up this morning and the bone’s healed. I can’t feel the break anymore. It doesn’t even hurt.”

  “Like it never happened.”

  That wasn’t the first time. Small things happened, again and again. A particularly nasty cut that healed in a few hours. Being able to hear, see, even sense animals rustling in the leaves when they took the horses out. Their time at archery practice, when she’d hit a target 600 meters away. Things she shouldn’t have been able to do.

  But, the biggest change wasn’t physical. “My mind’s all over the place,” Jai confessed over morning meditation.

  “Oh?” Mom pulled their sitting cushions to the center of the room.

  “My mind won’t stop racing. I mean, I love living here, but work’s stressing me out. With the new aerodynamics division, I have to smooth some things out overseas. That’s normal business, but it doesn’t bode well for work-life balance. I want to have fun. You know, enjoy our blessings and all. But, when I meditate, my mind wanders. A lot. I’ve got to be doing something wrong. It’s starting to stress me out, more than chill me out.”

  “Makes you feel like giving up?”

  “Honestly, yes. It’s to a point I don’t even want to start, I’m so stressed I’m gonna mess up. Only a minute in and I’m planning one meeting after another. I try to shift back to my breath, to what we’re actually doing. But, my mind keeps moving. It's like a water wheel that won’t stop spinning.”

  “Your reptilian brain just keeps running with it,” Mom joked. Mom's meditation practice was far more advanced than Jai's, having trained for many years before Jai had even tried it. “It’s normal,” Mom assured her. “Many people struggle with it. You’ll be completely present, focused on your own breathing, when this or that subject will pop into your mind, seemingly out of nowhere. It happens to me too.” Jai looked at her Mom, a skeptical look plastered on her face. Mom smiled. “Trick is, don’t fight it. Acknowledge it, and move on. Just gently refocus on your breathing. The more you do that, the easier it will become, the less your mind will wander.” She paused. “And, try not to fault yourself for messing up." Mom knew Jai well. "That’s a double-blow no one needs. Why don’t we try now? Let’s see what happens.”

  Jai closed her eyes, and began to breathe a slow and steady breath. She could feel the air pass through her nostrils as her chest rose and fell. She swallowed and began a body scan. First, she bowed her head ever so slightly, then relaxed the tension around her eyes. She felt her eyelashes flutter as she blinked against her cheeks. The pressure in her shoulders loosened as she dropped her shoulders. She relaxed her jaw and let it fall, her tongue pressed lightly against her lower teeth. With each passing breath, her attention focused, becoming more attuned to her body.

  Just as she began to unwind, a thought popped into her head. She needed to acquire a test site. They were developing prototypes for personal submarines. An Arizona location seemed promising, but she needed her team to arrange an on-site visit, to confirm if it met all the specs to build the testing facility before she acquired it. Can I trust my right-hand, Caleb, to do it alone, or should I do it personally? The perfect location was critical. Proper testing was necessary to make the project a success. She started to compare the pros and cons of the potential sites. She was excited to start the next phase. Minutes passed before she noticed her breath quickening.

  There I go again, she thought. Why do I always have to think about work? I’m supposed to be focusing on my breath! But, the more Jai tried, the more her thoughts wandered. She blamed her workaholic ways, her Type A personality. Re-center, re-focus. She repeated it like a mantra, trying to circle back. Before she knew it, she was comparing what had distracted her this time, to what had distracted her the last time. And the session before that, and the session before that. Soon, her mind was wandering more than it was focused.

  By the time Mom ended the session and readied their tea for a post-training recap, Jai was exhausted. Tension had filled her neck and shoulders. As Mom placed a tray of snacks on the table, Jai marveled at her mother’s relaxed and graceful movements. Mom was unequivocally rejuvenated and handed Jai a cup. One look at Jai and she chuckled. “I take it there are some opportunities to address?”

  “That’s a huge understatement. I couldn’t stop the mental chatter.” Jai sighed. “I don’t know why I have such a hard time. It’s just breathing. Why can’t I just put my finger on it, and have it stay put?” Jai held up her cup, and Mom poured her some tea.

  As gracious as ever, Mom admitted, “You sound just like me when I first started meditating…what, a decade ago? I’d just lost your brother, and your father followed a short time later. Try shutting that out. It took years before I was able to silence my thoughts. What happened; what didn’t, but should’ve, happened; what I couldn’t do, but wished I could’ve done. I was sick with it. Every waking moment, I was paralyzed with those thoughts. And, when I meditated, whatever I tried to silence was amplified a hundred fold. Trust me, I thought about giving up many times. But, I stuck with it and, slowly, I improved. It took many small steps. And, many, many sessions. But, eventually it happened. My mind quieted down. I started to have regular, uninterrupted sleep for the first time in years.” Mom tapped a finger to her temple. “It’s a strange thing, the mind. It wanders of its own volition. Sometimes, the more you try to hold on to it, the more it goes against you.

  “Did you try to let your thoughts be, then return to your breath? I find that when I take a second to label the thought — to just give it a name — I can gently refocus on the breath and start with a clean slate. You rule your mind, after all. Your mind doesn’t rule you. No matter what, remember that. You aren’t your thoughts; you’re the observer. The one who sees your thoughts as they arise. You can just as easily say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ and move on your merry way.”

  Jai coughed, exasperated. “You make it sound so easy. I’ve tried, but before I know it, my mind’s wandering again. I feel increasingly uneasy the more it happens.”

  “You were thinking about work again?” Mom asked. Jai looked up, mid-gulp. Her eyebrows peeked out, over her cup. She nodded. Mom confessed, “Again, you’re not alone. My thoughts stray too. Even today, I found my mind wandering. I saw submarines, of all things! In a desert. Certainly not where you’d expect to see them. Isn’t that funny?” Mom laughed at the ridiculousness of it. �
��I refocused, then saw another arid place. Looked like Nevada for some reason. Then Caleb. It’s been over a year since I’ve even seen or talked to Caleb. See how strange the mind is? And, I’ve been practicing ten times longer than you have. So weird too; my mind hasn’t wandered that strangely in years. I guess, no matter how much you train, anyone’s mind can wander.”

  Jai appreciated her mother’s light-hearted attitude. Mom always found a way to see humor in nearly every situation. It was one of the traits Jai most admired about her. She wished she had the same resilience, but she was more like her father, more often stoic and reserved…especially when it came to the business side of things. Her business consumed most of her thoughts.

  Then again, Mom's remarks were more than odd. “What do you mean, submarines?” Jai hadn’t told her mom about the subs. She’d mentioned a new project was in the works, but she hadn’t said what. Even within the company, Jai had kept it a high-clearance project. Only a handful of developers knew about it.

  “Well, not subs, exactly,” Mom said. “Much smaller. They weren’t traditional-looking…more like mini-subs.” Mom described their appearance in detail, and the deserts she had seen. Jai went silent. “What is it?” Mom laughed. “What? My imagination was just running wild. Why the dour face?”

  “It’s not that, Mom.” Jai looked away and rubbed her temples. Her head was beginning to throb. “It’s actually true. I was just thinking about the submarines we’re developing.”

  “Come now. Not really?” The smile on Mom’s face began to fade.

  “No, really Mom. I’m not kidding. We’re developing personal subs.”

  “Well, that’s a crazy coincidence.” Mom took the napkin in her lap and began to turn it in her hands.

  “It’s not, Mom. I’m serious. We’re developing them, and only a few people know about it. Most have no clue that’s the direction we’re going. I've asked Caleb to pick potential test sites.” Mom put the napkin down.

  “Where?”

  “Where you said: Arizona and Nevada. A few more sites…one in California….”

  “With an airstrip and a long line of white hangers?”

  “Yes, with a large tree…”

  “Beside the eastern face.” Mom finished Jai’s sentence, and took a deep breath. She pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes were beginning to tear. “I was afraid of this.”

  Jai looked at her mom, surprised to hear that anything scared her. In all their years, Mom always had a plan, a course to take, no matter what happened. Sure, she’d been worried before. But, despite everything they’d been through, Mom had never said she was afraid. Even when Darin was sick, Mom knew exactly what to do; the treatments they’d try; the activities they’d do together as a family; the arrangements that had to be made when the time came close. Mom cried and cried, and became bedridden for a while after Darin’s funeral, but it wasn’t fear that Jai saw. It was acceptance. Mom let herself feel the anguish that overwhelmed her then…and again when they’d lost Dad. She came out of it on the other side, the same resilient, reliable person Jai had always known. In many ways, Mom was the most dependable person Jai had ever known. No matter what was going on in Jai’s life, Mom had ample advice and support to give. Jai swallowed, her throat parched.

  Mom's expression was grave. “Jai, this is serious,” she said and paused. “I hadn’t told you before. I’d hoped it was a fluke. But, our last three sessions, I’ve been having these visions.”

  “Visions?”

  “Yes. I’ve tried to put it out of my mind, but the more I think about it, it makes some kind of wacky sense.” Mom reached for Jai’s hands. “Listen, we know something’s off here, something’s different. You broke your toe; the next day, it was completely healed. Your strength’s increased substantially since you began karate, and it’s not attributable to simple training. You’re not even lifting weights. Your vision and hearing is superior to anyone else’s. Your movements are more fluid and faster than others’. I mean, my instructor’s been teaching martial arts far longer than you’ve been a student. Even he told me that you rival him. You know him. That’s no small admission. Counting today, this is the fourth session where your recap just-so-happens to match what I’ve randomly seen? I’m afraid it’s not random. And, I promise, I’m not trying to see anything. I’m focusing on my breath, or trying to, just as much as you are. I’m doing it, when suddenly images and feelings push their way in. I tried to block them out at first, but I can’t help but shake this feeling. Somehow, I’m seeing what you’re seeing when we meditate.”

  A nervous laugh escaped from Jai’s lips. “Seriously, Mom? You’re talking telepathy.” She hovered her hands back and forth, and let out a ghostly “Ooo….”

  “Be serious, Jai. You can’t tell me it doesn’t freak you out.” Mom picked up a nearby journal and pushed it across the table. “Read this. It describes every vision I’ve seen for the last three sessions. If I’m wrong, then we can chalk it up to some crazy coincidence.” Jai took the journal and flipped through the pages. Immediately, she realized her mother had written detailed descriptions of her own distractions. Each time, there were minute details — a phone call Jai had rehashed in her mind; a request for a proposal she’d drafted; a design opportunity she’d identified — none of which she’d shared with her mom…or anyone else. Stranger still, her mom’s description played out like a transcript, in precisely the same order Jai had experienced it.

  “Holy shit.” Jai looked up and stared into her mother’s eyes.

  “It’s true, then?” her mother begged for confirmation.

  “It’s true. Every detail is true.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Mom’s eyes darted around the room. She pulled her hair back, out of the way. “I’m reading your thoughts. It's not because I’m telepathic. It's because you are.” The truth shocked them. Mom leaned in, staring into Jai’s eyes. “Promise me: do not tell anyone.”

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to Jai. Neither of them had spoken a word to anyone about the broken toe or anything else. Now, those incidents seemed inconsequential in comparison. “I doubt anyone would believe us, even if we told them,” Jai said, laughing nervously. “I mean, where do you go to get help with this, without getting locked up in some padded cell?”

  Mom nodded. “You don't. That’s what’s dangerous about this. You know how things go. Meditation and yoga are mainstream. Businesses have been doing it for decades. All the better to boost productivity, enhance morale for the every day workforce. It’s been ages since the Mass General/Harvard study proved it takes only eight-weeks…eight-weeks to make quantifiable changes to your brain! But, that’s not this. This is next-level. And, you know how people are. Most people scorn anyone with anything hokey-pokey about them. This is the epitome of hokey-pokey.”

  “Telepathy?” Jai said the word, and shook her head, as if doing so would knock the idea loose. “That’s insane, Mom. Enter the realm of fortune tellers, healing crystals, and whatnot.”

  “I hope we’re wrong.” Mom's uncertainty made Jai even more nervous. Mom furrowed her brow. “It’s not like we went to the doctor’s office and have a read on what’s really going on here. This is uncharted territory. We’ve got to play it safe. Promise me," she said again. "Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t,” Jai promised. Mom took a deep breath and put the journal away.

  Chapter 7

  2112

  “Jai,” Mom whispered.

  Jai stretched her arms out, toward the coffered ceiling. “What time is it?” she moaned, her eyes still closed.

  “It’s 7 a.m. Sunday. 2112.”

  “Ugh,” Jai groaned. “More sleep,” she pleaded. She didn’t need the sleep, but she enjoyed resting peacefully in her king size bed on the second floor of their Chiang Mai villa.

  “Sorry to wake you, but I think we should fly back to the States, to the beach house. There’s a flight this afternoon. We could be there by tomorrow morning.”

 
Jai loved the beach house. A Georgian manor, it sprawled out and faced the Long Island Sound. It had an expansive infinity pool that dropped off to the horizon. Doing laps was like swimming out to sea. But, Jai knew why her mother wanted to go there. It was the sala Mom had asked Jai to construct in the garden. Architecturally, it was similar in slope to their sala in Thailand, but this had moveable walls and heated floors; it could open in the heat of summer or be a toasty cocoon during a particularly nasty snow. Jai loved its electronic screens. It had an array of backdrops from which to choose, and a multitude of climbing walls. It was a veritable obstacle course with the push of a button.

  After the flight back, they took a quick bath and met in the sala. On the flight over, Jai had caught up on most of her work. In the shower, her thoughts had wandered again, her mind still busy crafting a few more work memos. But, Jai’s confidence had grown. Thirty-two years had passed since they’d discovered her telepathy. They’d traveled back and forth, between Thailand, the States, and many places throughout Europe and Asia. Jai’s business had grown exponentially, and her mom had continued her work, most recently, as an Emeritus Professor at Columbia University. But, no matter where they were, not a day had gone by without a meditation session. Since then, Jai’s attention had a fluidity and focus she’d never had before. She walked into the sala, sat beside her mother, and closed her eyes, confident that she’d be able to shut work out. She tuned into her breathing, thinking the session was going well. Then, suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her right eye, and a piercing jab to the head.

  Her eyes flew open, only to find her mom meditating beside her with a mischievous grin on her face. Seriously? Jai laughed. Over the years, her mother had honed her skills in karate. She was a third-degree black belt. She often beat Jai when they used to spar. And, when physical spars were no longer possible, they began to spar mentally; for decades now, it was Mom’s favorite sport. Being 96 was of no consequence. Mentally, Mom was just as lethal as before. And, “sparring mental,” as they liked to call it, was the only way Mom could not only feel, but look, as young as Jai, whose face was still like a 21-year-old’s, after all this time. Indeed, after so many decades of mental sparring, Mom had taken on a young appearance so frequently in Jai’s mind, that it played a large role in Jai’s coming to know her as “Joy,” a friend and confidante, not just her mother.