“Alright, what do I have to do to sign up?”
Serah said, “Just like that?”
Mimi shrugged. “Seems like I have a lot to gain and not much to lose. You already know where I live, you’re clearly more powerful than I am, and if you want can make me do what you want me to do. And, you can read what I am thinking, so you know that the idea of having access to more power sounds good to me. I’ve lived on the streets long enough to know that you take what you can get.”
Noatla frowned. “I am not sure I would put it the way that you did, but I am glad you are interested.”
Mimi looked directly at Noatla and used her mouth to speak. “No offense lady, but you’re an Upper, those rich people up at the top of the skyscrapers, none of you have a clue what it’s like to live on the streets. Even those of you who are in the lowers don’t have a clue what it’s like. You know what it means when you’re from nowhere? When you are a person without a home in this city?”
She paused and looked around. No one answered.
“It means that you’re disposable, that you’re just another bag of skin waiting to waste away. Most nowhere women have been sexually assaulted by security guards. Shannon and I, we’re one of the lucky few. Why are so many women assaulted? Because those assholes can do whatever they want to us without consequence. And for the men? Well, some of the SOs prefer men and the others, they get to be punching bags, objects of ridicule and scorn. They blame us for being homeless, but they don’t know our stories. They assume we’re lazy, we’re trash, we’re just an unpleasant smell or an eyesore on the street. We’re deviants to be ignored. But I’ll tell you what, I’ve been around longer than most of you’ve been alive, and the one thing I know is that being from nowhere never changes.”
“And just how long have you been around,” asked a woman in the corner, “that you grace us with so much wisdom?” A squat blond woman sat in the corner. She didn’t use her mouth to speak, but Mimi was starting to get the hang of being able to figure out who was speaking. There was a kind of tugging in that direction whenever they did. Mimi specifically kept the number of her age out of her mind.
“A few centuries.”
A round of mental murmurs went around the room.
The woman spoke again, “That’s not possible.”
“But it is, Fatima,” said Noatla. “Don’t you see what her specialty is?”
The woman Noatla had called Fatima shook her head.
“It took me thinking about it these last few weeks Fatima, but I think I finally understand. Mimi, can you...skim...as you put it, me for a moment and tell me what you see?”
It was a strange request. One that Mimi had never been asked to do before. But, she thought it worth a shot. There was a lot of shit in this woman’s brain. All kinds of schematics and fancy words. The woman was a regular library. But, Mimi assumed that she wanted her to see something specific, so Mimi focused a bit until she had something.
“You want me to repeat it back to you, or?”
“Yes, please.”
“You were thinking about an archaeological dig. Particularly one where the city of Boston used to be. You were thinking about the layers of sites on top of sites and how the indigenous occupants left a great deal of archaeological data down below the surface of the colonial town, and that in turn was covered by concrete again and again between the 20th and 21st century.”
Noatla’s smile widened. “No Mimi, I wasn’t thinking of anything. I was blocking you. Do you see what she has, Sisters? Why she could survive so long in this city?”
There was silence as all fifteen of the other women were listening.
“Mimi, you have something that we’ve never encountered before. The innate ability to pull subconscious information from someone’s mind. I was thinking about that site a few days ago, but I had put it in the back of my mind to hold on for later after we are finished assisting you. But it seems that you, Mimi, are able to pluck scientific data right from me, without my directly thinking about it.”
“I am?”
“You found one of the private access alcoves in the underground, didn’t you?”
Mimi nodded. “Yeah, some guy came by one day, he was an engineer or something I think, and he was thinking about its location.”
“I actually doubt he was. It’s more likely that you were simply mining his subconscious for the information you wanted without realizing it.”
Mimi thought about that. It did make a certain kind of sense. Some of the workers she had encountered had always seemed to be thinking of very technical things, and for a little while she had thought it odd, but eventually she had gotten used to the idea that some people just thought that way. She realized her impression was that everyone was thinking that way. Now she knew why she could understand the systems surrounding the algae cultivation, or how she had learned how to hack a food dispenser with ease.
“Yes Mimi, all that and more.”
Mimi looked up at Noatla specifically and realized the woman was grinning ear to ear. She was like a kid in a candy store with the keys after hours. Mimi wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“So, I’m accessing people’s deepest thoughts without them realizing it? Isn’t that what you said you couldn’t do? That you can only take stuff off the surface?”
Noatla’s eyes drifted up and to the left. Her face went blank for a moment. “Tell me, Mimi, when you have accessed this information, is it only ever information pertaining to technology or science? Or do gleam other kinds of information?”
Mimi thought about it hard for a moment. Sure, she could hear what people were directly thinking about, but most of the time that didn’t contain the kind of deep technical information that she had access to. She tried to remember an example of something that she had been given that would be considered a dark secret or gossip, but she couldn’t come up with anything off the top of her head.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Maybe now that I am paying attention I could tell you, but right now I don’t think so.”
Noatla nodded. “I think you will find that you are only able to grasp certain kinds of information. I am unsure at the moment what the pattern of this information is. It may be that you can only grab onto scientific data. Or it maybe it has something to do with a particular part of the brain’s memory connections that you are accessing. But obviously, you have a specific skill set, one that we haven’t come across before now. It is one that could be powerful and useful.”
“What do you mean? It certainly helped me survive this long, but how could it be of use to you?”
“Can you think of no reason we might want technical information?”
Mimi considered. “I don’t know.”
“Mimi,” said Noatla, “I want you to take a read on Serah.”
Mimi couldn’t help but notice Serah’s face change. It almost darkened.
Serah said, “Why me? I don’t want her poking around in the depths of my mind.”
Noatla said, “I am reasonably certain that she isn’t going to be fishing around through anything personal, but I am curious what information she could glean from you. Of course, I would like your consent just in case, Serah.”
Serah grimaced a little and shook her head, but then said, “Fine. Go ahead.”
Noatla nodded in Mimi’s direction. “Go on, Mimi.”
Mimi did as she was instructed. She closed her eyes this time and pictured Serah. At first, there was nothing, just the blank of being blocked from the surface of her mind. Then tiny rivulets of memories began to stream forward, like a trickle of water penetrating into deeper crevices of the earth. Then, there was an explosion of information and Mimi opened her mouth and let some of it drift out.
“Runner protocol 3. The EnViro suit is your best friend out in the Barrens. It will keep you alive through the various sandstorms, methane pockets, and enemy attacks. There are two kinds of EnViro suits, Recon-grade and Battle-grade. The Recon-grade EnViro suit is lighter and more mobile and usuall
y does not carry weapons. In place, it is primarily equipped for surveillance. The Battle-grade EnViro suit is equipped for city to city combat. This suit is equipped with a variety of weapons that are often measured for the aptitude of the user. Some may carry heavier artillery-style weapons, while others may carry short-range laser or projectile weapons. At the same time, some Runners, such as Runner 17, may carry multiple classes of weapons as he, in particular, is skilled in a variety of weapons, including blades and hand-to-hand combat.”
Mimi stopped for a moment and looked around. “Should I go on?”
She noticed Serah’s eyes, wide and shocked. “Holy shit. That sounded like the recording I heard when I was going through Runner orientation decades ago.”
Noatla nodded. “Exactly. It appears to be that Mimi can glean some important part of long-term memory associated with technical information. It will be interesting to find out what your limits are.”
“Find out what my limits are? You make it sound like I’m already on board.”
“Aren’t you, though?”
Mimi obviously couldn’t hide what she was thinking, at least not yet. She thought then that it was best to be candid.
She shrugged. “I’m a practical woman. I know that I’m at your mercy and I’m willing to go along with it so long as there is something in it for me. But that doesn’t mean I have to like you or even trust you.”
Noatla frowned. “I’d rather you not think of it like that. I hope in the future you will learn to love us and call us your sisters.”
“Maybe. But I’ve been around for a while. I’m keenly aware that this world is pretty damn merciless. Who knows, maybe tomorrow another city will kill us all and it won’t matter.”
A sea of frowns. Only one face with a smile.
“But yeah, I’m in.”
Chapter 8
An Initiation
THERE WAS LITTLE PREPARATION for what took place next. The Order of the Eye had a rather strange initiation, and Mimi was part of a circle. The lights were dimmed. The seventeen women stood hand in hand. Noatla took Mimi’s hand to her right and another woman reached out and grabbed her hand on her left.
In chorus, the voices united. “Welcome, our new Sister.”
No lips moved.
One at a time, the sisters introduced themselves.
Immediately to Mimi’s left, a woman said, “I am Darla of the Lowers. Welcome.”
“I am Rachel of the Mids. Welcome.”
“I am Serah of the Runners. Welcome.”
“I am Lucy of the Lowers. Welcome.”
“I am Fatima of the Uppers. Welcome.”
“I am Vala of the Mids. Welcome.”
Mimi was noticing a pattern. All of them seemed to have a place where they were from, even Serah, who likely had the most difficult life. But where would Mimi say she was from? She had her hovel underground, but was underground a place you could call home? Would she even call her little hovel of tied-together cloth a home? She wasn’t so sure.
“I am Rebecca of the Uppers. Welcome.”
“I am Joan of the Lowers. Welcome.”
“I am Shandie of the Lowers. Welcome.”
“I am Kayla of the Mids. Welcome.”
“I am Leahara of the Lowers. Welcome.”
It also occurred to Mimi that so many of them seemed as if they were from the Lowers. Why was that? Mimi realized that she still had no idea why she was able to reach into other people’s minds. Why were any of these women able to do it? Was it some ancient genetic thing? Why weren’t there any men? Was that by design or was it impossible for men to have this particular skill set? She felt the questions burn in her and she was just about to open her mouth to speak, when Noatla squeezed her hand and looked her directly in the eyes. There were no words, but Mimi understood its meaning. Not now.
“I am Rosita of the Lowers. Welcome.”
“I am Lana of the Mids. Welcome.”
“I am Yoshi of the Uppers. Welcome.”
“I am Patricia of the Lowers. Welcome.”
The circle came around and the final voice spoke in her mind. “I am Noatla of the Uppers, standing Matron of the Order of the Eye, and I welcome you, Mimi.”
All eyes were on Mimi. They were waiting for her to speak. But what could she say? She was Mimi from...well...she was from Nowhere. Maybe that was the point. Maybe somehow, being from Nowhere was important. She decided not to shy away from it. She had seen more of this city than most of the others combined. She had traced its underbelly and tasted its corruption.
She shrugged. “And...I am Mimi of the Nowhere.”
Curious looks. A pause. Then, acceptance.
The women spoke as one. “Welcome, Mimi of the Nowhere.”
Noatla spoke, lips still stationary. “What do you ask of us, Mimi of the Nowhere?”
Mimi looked around at the faces of the women. “To...join you?”
Noatla nodded her assent and smiled. “As you wish. Are there any here who would oppose Mimi’s induction into the Sisterhood of the Order of the Eye?”
Silence.
Serah of the Runners departed from the circle, returning only a moment later with some kind of chalice in her hands. They passed the cup. Small sips for each woman’s lips. The cup reached Mimi’s hand.
“What’s in it?”
Noatla smiled. “Your path forward.”
Mimi eyed the cup. “That’s not an answer. I won’t drink it unless you tell me.”
Serah said, “If you want in, you drink.”
Mimi’s head turned towards her, “Then take your cup back.” And she held it out towards Serah.
Noatla intervened. “It’s a mild hallucinogen, Mimi. It won’t hurt you. It is meant only to help guide you toward your role in the Order. It is important for you to begin your first steps among us.”
Mimi had, in fact, tried many kinds of drugs over the years. She hadn’t cared for most, but hallucinogens were usually fairly benign. She considered that each of the other women had taken a small sip and imagined that a small sip probably couldn’t do very much to you. So, she tilted the cup up and took a tiny sip.
Serah spoke, “No, all of it.”
With a stern voice that Mimi would have never expected from her, Noatla said, “Who is Matron here, Serah? Do not speak out of turn again.” She looked at Mimi. Her voice softened. “You must drink the remainder, dear.”
Mimi let her eyes move back and forth across Noatla’s face and then without breaking her gaze, downed the rest of the cup.
Serah walked over and took the cup. She glanced at Mimi. She was all iron eyes.
All the sisters sat, and Mimi followed suit.
A call and response began.
“The eyes come open,” said one sister.
“The sleeper wakes,” said another.
The voices shifted with each call, as if the room was echoing itself. Mimi could not trace the voices as they spoke. They began to blur together.
“The wheel turns,”
“As Above,”
“So Below,”
“As Within,”
“So Without,”
“The Light passes and time squints, allowing the faintest glimmer of wisdom.”
“But Fear is the little death, the one that brings an end to hope,”
“Fearlessness is the key that unlocks all things.”
“You will die.”
“We will all die.”
“Rest in these words.”
“Rest in body,”
“Rest in Mind.”
The word Mind became long and strung out. It echoed and repeated, over and over again, and the light in the room became total whiteness, stealing colors. Blending, abducting, rearranging so that the room was a smokescreen of objects and stole their form and figures. Then there was only white, and then that faded too, until all was transparent and clear but empty and pregnant.
She looked around. There was no she to look. No hands to find, no body to fill the space. Just a wat
cher. Then she thought of Shannon and Shannon appeared. She was huddled in the corner of a room, crying. This made Mimi think of her mother, of that terrible night. As she thought on this, the body of the man she had stabbed many times appeared on a fragment of floor in the empty space. The blood spread from underneath his corpse.
Anything Mimi thought of appeared and took weight into reality. But she wasn’t sure where or why she was here. She remembered standing in that musty old library, but how did she jump from there to here? She remembered the cup, and she knew she was tripping.
Yet there was something else about this place that warranted examination. If she could think of something and make it appear, could she do that with something from the future as well?
She thought on Shannon, and she appeared, standing before her. Mimi turned her mind to Shannon’s abduction and in the corner of the space, the scene replayed itself over and over. She had a grip on the past. Could she reach into the future? She tried to think of Shannon in the future, but nothing came.
So why was she here, then? If she couldn’t do anything besides look at the past, what value was there to this little ritual?
Momentarily, the scene tinged red. A shadow of red that extended over all. She felt chills and discomfort despite not having a body, but just as the ice seemed to climb firmly up her spine, the red shadow passed on and the light was clear once more.
“Why I am here?” Her words echoed through the space, despite not having vocal cords. She didn’t expect an answer; it was more of something to say to fill the time.
“To become better than you are.” An image of her mother stepped in from nowhere. Her mother, still young and full of life and kindness, stared at her, and Mimi found that she once again had a body, but it was the body of a much younger version of her, one that had just turned 13.
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