Analel figured this to be the most likely place where she would find Quinn. The problem was, the Greenhouse was so filled with life that its appearance was constantly changing. A clear trail in one section a week ago was not necessarily going to be there the week after. Traversing the Greenhouse was like navigating a maze with moving walls. Fortunately, Analel was pretty good with puzzles and it wasn’t long before she heard the sound of rushing water up ahead.
Pushing aside the last few giant leaves barring her path, she broke through to a small clearing where the brook could be seen running its course. Sure enough, she’d found Quinn.
*****
On the opposite bank and a few meters from where Analel now stood, Quinn sat perched atop the lunar rock, her legs folded beneath her long cloak. Her hood was pulled down low over her head concealing her pale, watery-blue eyes, but the delicate, angular features of her mouth and chin were still visible, framed by a wisp of blond hair falling along the left side of her cheek.
There was an added serenity to her beauty stemming from her meditative state, which unfortunately for her was of no interest to Analel in her agitated state.
“Finally!” declared Analel, triumphantly. Sprinting across the brook and ignoring her considerably soaked boots, Analel charged up the rear side of the rock, dropped down to one knee at Quinn’s side and placed both her hands simultaneously on Quinn’s two shoulders. Reacting, Quinn gasped, and kicking her out feet from under her, fell backward onto her palms. She braced herself in a half-upright position, searching wide eyed for the culprit who’d just accosted her.
“Oh, in all Creation!” exclaimed Quinn, clutching her chest while trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart.
Analel couldn’t keep from laughing. “Sorry, Quinn.”
“Annie, you scared the life out of me!”
“Sorry,” she repeated, trying to placate her best friend, her continued laughter not really helping matters any.
“I’m going to kill you! Couldn’t you see I was meditating?”
“I’m sorry. Truly I am. But I need your help.”
Quinn wasn’t listening. “You must have taken a good ten years off my life.”
“You’re still young, Quinn. I’m sure you’ve got plenty left.”
Quinn stared menacingly at Analel, who in turn, rolled her eyes at her friend’s dramatics and offered by way of a peace offering, “You can kill me later if you like. Right now, I really could use your help.”
“Fine,” said Quinn, calming down a bit and accepting Analel’s offer. “Later it is then. Now what on all of Osmos’ four moons is so pressing that you felt the need to attack an innocent girl sitting alone in a forest?”
Analel smiled and Quinn got a good look at the face of her closest friend for the first time since being jolted from her meditative state. There was something wild there. An energy, above and beyond the usual lively quality to Analel’s features, and Quinn couldn’t help from being drawn in. Smiling in return, she prodded, “What is it, Annie? Tell me already!”
After all this time searching for Quinn, Analel wasn’t sure of what to say or where to start. “OK, are you ready?”
“Of course I’m ready.”
“You’re sure?”
“Stop it, Annie!”
“Sorry. OK, here goes.” Composing herself, she began by saying, “I just had the most bizarre experience.” Quinn nodded, listening dutifully. “I was meditating alone in our room. Nothing serious, just basic guided imagery stuff. At first it was your typical light meditation session. Maybe I was a little more relaxed than usual, I don’t know. But then, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. I floated toward it and it became absolutely clear that it was a Wave Current. So I thought, OK, my mind is combing my experiential memory for material and it came up with this. Guided imagery has never taken me on this sort of route before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything, right?”
Quinn was looking at Analel speculatively now but she remained silent. Analel continued, her voice steadily rising in tandem with her excitement. “Then I felt like I was being gently pulled into the Wave Current. I know it’s the nature of guided imagery to just let things happen, but I don’t think this just happened, Quinn. It really felt like I was meant to merge with it. Everything accelerated. I was riding the Wave. It was similar to Wave Card reading but far more intense. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast before and I certainly have never felt as uniform with a Current like this before.”
Analel lowered her voice to a hush but her intensity remained. “When I broke through I was in a Student’s consciousness! He was looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed so… lost, and yet, so... determined. Uncertain of things, but sure of himself. It was like watching caged passion, or something, I can’t really describe it. It was hypnotic. I followed him around the entire morning. Nearly saved him from crashing through a glass panel, but that’s another story.” Analel waited, her expression giddy and expectant. Quinn was quiet.
“Say something, already!”
Quinn frowned. “Annie, what you’re describing is impossible,” her voice, a mixture of skepticism and sympathy. “Guided imagery is a common meditative technique, and it’s true that anything can, and does, pop into the imagination while performing it. Usually, though, images are nonsensical, without any real logical order to them, at least from a superficial standpoint. Underlying meanings can be extrapolated but only by a seasoned Prophet.
“I know that, Quinn,” said Analel impatiently.
“Then you also know that Wave Currents cannot simply be imagined. Not real ones, anyway. They’re not mere figments of the imagination. A Wave Current is a very real entity. To connect with one you need a Wave Reader with a specific Wave Card, which manifests a specific Academic’s Wave Length. The exact amplitude and frequency of an Academic’s Wave pattern needs to be viewed before you can locate and connect with their Perspective through projected Wave Thought. Otherwise, you’re just groping around in the dark.”
“Really?” The note of sarcasm in Analel’s voice was thick.
“Don’t be smart. I’m just saying that over distances, without locking onto an individual Wave pattern - which cannot be done without the help of a Reader, a Wave Card and Mist - you’re basically pulsing in the general vicinity of the universe and praying for a hit. A random merging of a projected Wave Thought with another person’s Wave Current is a statistical impossibility.”
“There are no statistical impossibilities, Quinn, only improbabilities.”
“You’re nitpicking, Annie.”
“I had the same training you had, OK. This isn’t news to me. I know what I saw.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t have-”
“I didn’t have my Reader,” broke in Analel before Quinn could finish her thought. “There’s something going on here. Something I can’t explain, and it’s bigger than me, bigger than the Prophecy… than what I’ve thought to be reality. I have to find out what it is.”
“Why am I getting a very uncomfortable feeling that this is where I come in?”
Analel let out a short laugh. “I don’t know, Quinn. Why do you think you’re getting that feeling?”
“Annie...”
“Quinn...”
Sitting there on the rock they stared at each other in stalemate. Quinn looked impatient while a shaft of sunbeam managed to slip through the forest canopy to glint off Analel’s wide eyes. Two bright points of light, like a pair of white dwarf stars, were caught in the black holes of her pupils, dancing their way to an inexorable oblivion.
Quinn broke first. “If you want my help, Annie, at some point you’re going to have to-”
“I need you to help me break into the Library.”
“WHAT!”
“And it has to be tonight.”
“Are you mad? Have you lost your mind?”
“Oh please, Quinn, you have to help me,” begged Analel, shedding her playful demeanor of moments befo
re and throwing herself at the mercy of her best friend. “Please... please... please. You’re the only friend I can trust. You’re my best friend and I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I don’t get to the bottom of this. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I know it sounds crazy. For all I know I’m going crazy myself-”
“That’s for sure.”
“All I do know is that I can’t just go back to normal after what I saw. I can’t. I just can’t… I… please, Quinn?”
“OK, fine. I’ll help.” Quinn imagined she now understood what volunteers of suicide missions must feel like after their hearts had gained control of their mouths while their brains were caught sleeping.
Analel dove forward to hug her friend. “Oh, thank you, thank you. You’re the best, Quinn.”
“Don’t get all excited. I’m still going to kill you.”
“I don’t care. You’re still the best.”
Analel’s voice came out muffled as she clenched her face tight to Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn laughed. “There, there girl. My, aren’t we the clingy ones today.”
Chapter 5: Meta
The Academy, Osmos
Relative to the rich history of the Academy, the Island funded Prophecy on Caras 1 was fairly new. Likewise was the unconventional skill called by the same name and cultivated there. Once again, it was Professor Ren who had first brought this controversial meditative curiosity to the Academy’s attention.
It all began when Ren returned from his sudden and mysterious ten year sabbatical, over the course of which time he had seemed to have all but forgotten his vow to demonstrate WateRen’s principles as applied toward Wave Whip combat.
Instead, and in the Professor’s own words, his quest had led him to, ‘stumble upon the next great plain of Osmosian existence.’
Ren would say nothing about where he’d been or what he’d been up to during his absence, and much to the awkward bewilderment of his colleagues, made no effort whatsoever to explain the young eight year old girl hanging onto the pleats of his trousers with her small hands balled up into tiny little fists.
“But Professor Ren,” his colleagues had finally asked after exhausting all reserves of polite patience, “who is this young child you brought back with you?”
Looking down at the cute little girl clinging to his legs, Ren responded matter-of-factly, ‘Who, Shasah? She’s my daughter, of course,” and that was all he would say on the subject.
For the next several days Ren spent his time espousing the importance of his latest discovery to the higher ups in the administration. A discovery, he claimed, would herald a new day in the world of academia, and more broadly, in the world of the average Osmosian trying to understand his or her place within the grand order of Creation. It didn’t take long before a lecture was scheduled that would have the Professor presenting his findings to the Academy at large.
As was the case ten years prior when the Professor first introduced the art of WateRen to the world, by the time the hour had come for the lecture to begin the Faculty Lounge had filled to the brim. A highly intrigued Student body - who had come of age with the legend of Professor Ren, not the person - sat with unrestrained curiosity, while at the same time an impatient and skeptical administration looked bored and unimpressed. All were waiting for the Professor to arrive. Some in the administration noted to each other with biting sarcasm how the next great leap for Osmosian kind apparently had little to do with punctuality.
Eventually Ren made his entrance into the Lounge, his daughter Shasah trailing behind as usual. Taking to the podium, Ren first studied his audience and then began. “Headmaster… fellow Professors… Teachers… Students.”
He spoke haltingly, pausing between the mention of each group for dramatic effect. Ren felt a burden of responsibility that no one else in the room could as yet relate to and he wanted to make sure they were all paying attention.
“We have always held academics to be the highest form of pursuit an Osmosian could ever hope to dedicate his life to. Studying the Wave of Creation, how it affects the universe, our star system, Osmos, every physical and psychological element of our lives - we look at it all, breaking it down into its component parts and pouring over the pieces until they surrender to us their secrets.
“I stand before you today to reaffirm this notion. But I also stand here to inform you that our pursuit has been severely limited. There is far more to this reality than component parts. There is the Whole, and it reaches deeper than any of us could have ever imagined.
“The physical and psychological aspects of the Wave, both for Osmosian kind and for the surrounding universe, have a unifying current that flows all around, as well as through us. And yet we, in our humble limitations and relatively inconsequential preoccupations, have failed to notice its existence.
“What I refer to now, reserving for it the highest degree of respect and the utmost humility, is the meta conscious. The pursuit of nothing less... than the spiritual.”
A silent uproar of incredulous murmuring erupted simultaneously from every corner of the Lounge. Students were confused, Professors were aghast, and Teachers, as usual, followed the lead of their Professor mentors, trying to outdo one another in feigned insult.
Shasah, who was still clinging to her father’s legs, slunk back even further behind his form like a shadow ever in retreat from approaching storm clouds. Ren himself was prepared for this biased reception and waited it out patiently. The only other calm demeanor in the room was the current Headmaster, a lifelong Academic named Jorgustoff.
“I believe,” Headmaster Jorgustoff’s high pitched voice called out, cutting through the commotion and achieving immediate quiet, like a scalpel severing the vocal cords of the room, “what the esteemed members of this institution are trying to say, is that this is all highly unusual.” Professor Ren turned to face his onetime mentor. “You yourself must admit to that much, Professor,” continued Jorgustoff, “what with this talk of... of... spirituality, as you put it. It’s all so very... unacademic.”
Ren thus far accepted Jorgustoff’s criticism with unflinching stoicism. But his passivity was not to last. “And this child of yours-”
“She is not illegitimate!” declared Ren, anger flashing over his features before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. It was the second time any Academic had ever seen Professor Ren fall victim to an emotional outburst. No more than a momentary flicker of intensity, it was still quite a moment to behold, and none of those present would forget it.
“I never said she was illegitimate,” defended Jorgustoff, clearly taking offense to the accusation.
“But you thought it.”
More murmurs from the audience. They couldn’t believe the level of disrespect they were witnessing coming from one of the most celebrated Academics of their day.
“Come now, Professor. You’re starting to sound paranoid.”
“But you did think it,” pressed Ren.
“Really?” asked Jorgustoff with no small measure of condescension.
“I know this for a fact.”
“Pray tell?”
Ren stared directly into Jorgustoff’s eyes. His gaze bore through lens and retina and gray matter, piercing the very layers of the Headmaster’s subconscious. When Ren finally spoke the words were clearly not his own. “…He had so much potential... What happened to him out there?... Such a shame... From the future of the Academy to fathering an... illegitimate child.” Ren spoke these last words slowly, never taking his eyes off of Jorgustoff. The Headmaster shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
The room looked from Jorgustoff to Ren and then back to Jorgustoff. They were unsure of how to react and searched for directional cues from either man.
“You’re projecting,” claimed Jorgustoff in an uncharacteristically weak attempt to deflect the accusation.
“I read your mind, Headmaster, and you know it.”
“So now you’re a mind reader. Is that where you’ve been all these years? Entertaining
crowds on cruise liners and along shopping promenades?” Laughter erupted from the audience, releasing the tension that was beginning to suffocate the room. Ren remained unfazed.
“I read your mind through the meta conscious, Headmaster. The living and flowing Wave Current traveling through all patterns of physicality; light, sound, mass, even thoughts.”
“And this is your spirituality?” asked Jorgustoff. “This is what we came here to witness?”
“Yes,” answered Ren without hesitation. And then digging in he added, “This is the future of Academia.”
“Indeed,” said Jorgustoff, looking thoughtful. “I suppose we should also call you a Prophet then?” More laughter.
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Something in Ren’s confidence returned the room to its former state of uneasiness. “Allow me to demonstrate the potential of the meta conscious in a way I believe even you will find to be both convincing, as well as practical.”
Ren gently peeled his daughter’s grips away from his trousers. Holding her hands in his, he crouched down and asked in a reassuring tone, “Are you ready, my little one?’ The girl nodded and slowly came out from behind her father’s side.
That day, with Shasah tapping into her father’s consciousness, expanding it and bringing him to a state of the meta conscious, Ren challenged and easily dispatched ten other Professors simultaneously in an historic Wave Whip duel that would see the face of the Academy changed forever.
*****
Despite Ren’s demonstration showing the clear benefits that come along with ‘tapping into the spiritual’, as he had put it, the Headmaster, along with the rest of the administration, were still not altogether enthusiastic about this new field of study, unacademic as it was.
However, the powers that be were not dogmatic to an extreme that would see them ignoring its potential for Wave Whip combat, nor could they deny the excitement it was generating amongst the Student body, and many in the Faculty as well.
Much of this excitement stemmed from the mystery surrounding the origins of Ren’s new found skills. Whenever anyone at the Academy would ask him where he’d learned to tap into the meta conscious and perform the feats that he did, he would always offer the same cryptic response: “From people who know more than us,” and would refuse to elaborate any further.
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