Mind Over Psyche (28 page)

*

“What did you call me?” Clarissa's soft high voice
demanded.

“What?” Deryl blinked and found himself back in their apartment, in bed, leaning over Clarissa. He pulled back from he
r hastily.

Her softly worried look just as quickly turned into one of alarm. “Oh, no. No. Did you take your pil
ls today?”

“What?” He wasn't sure whether he should wonder why he was here or why he should find that wrong. He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the scar at the base of his skull. The headache was back, along with
the fear.

Clarissa didn't answer, just threw on a robe and ran to the bathroom. After a few moments, he pulled on some pants and followed her. As he expected, he found her pouring out his pills and counting them into
her hand.

“You took them. You took them,” She said tremblingly as she poured them into the bottle. A couple spilled onto the floor. Calmly, he picked them up and put them carefully back into the bottle, then took her hands in his. She looked him, her eyes glassy with tears. “You took them,” She whispered, “so why is this h
appening?”

She looked so scared. He didn't want to hurt her. “Dr. Acker said it was going to t
ake time.”

“It's bee
n a week!”

“He said it could take months. We have to be patient. Shhh. It's going to be all right.” He tried to embrace her, but she
resisted.

“Were you with her?” She
demanded.

“No,” he lied, and he pulled
her close.

This time, she buried her face into his chest, shaking as she fought to contain her sobs. “I can't
lose you.”

“You won't lose me,” he whispered automatically. “I promise, you're not going to
lose me.”

He kissed her hair, her forehead, traced her hairline with his lips to her ear. After a moment, she began to respond, her lips playing over his chest and neck. Soon, their kissing grew more urgent and they pulled at their clothing as they moved as one back to th
e bedroom.

They made it out of the bathroom, but not to the bed, and when the time came, Deryl made sure to call
her name.

“It didn't work!” Tasmae
paced the small cave, her fists clenched. She rounded on Joshua. “Why didn't it work?”

“I don't know!” He'd been singing almost nonstop for the past half hour. His fingers were sore from the activity after so many days without practice, and he could feel the tightness in his throat. He took a deep breath, forced himself to relax. “Maybe it can't be t
hat easy.”

“Does Deryl know we
're here?”

“I tried to get him that message. Making up stuff on the fly isn't as easy as i
t sounds.”

She stalked to where the weapons cabinet had once stood, turned and stalked back. He wished she would stop. He felt like he was watching a panther, with no glass wall to protect him if she decided to pounce. His neck reminded him of her
strength.

“Does Alugiac know we're here?” She
demanded.

“I don't know.” He closed his eyes trying to banish the fear that thought brought. “We nee
d allies.”

“How? So far, you have called up imaginary creatures and disembodie
d voices.”

“An
d Lattie.”

“Who tried to distract us from savi
ng Deryl!”

“Okay!” He jumped up to snap in her face. She froze in surprise, and despite her weapons and her status, she suddenly seemed very young and v
ulnerable.

He backed away from her and brought the keytar in front of him. “Okay. I don't think we can come at Deryl directly—maybe that's good if that will put us in Alugiac's sights. And I can call people—I just have to be more
careful.”

“You should have a weapon,” She said. Her voice trembled j
ust a bit.

He held up the keytar. “I have a weapon. I just need to use it better. This helps because there's a lot of music on Earth that doesn't have words, but has very specific associations—like the
Twilight Zone
theme. Certain sounds, too; things I can't recreate with my voice but can with the keytar. It also helps me when I'm changing words. Staying with the melody and rhythm adds to the power of the song, but I can play the melody first while I check the scanning without influencing anything
—I think.”

“Y
ou think?”

He nodded, his fingers playing scales, making adjustments. Just feeling the plastic of the keys reassured him. “I think I know what to do. We need an ally, and it has to be someone Deryl can trust, too. If he's really trapped in illusions made from his memories, like we think the riddle said, there's only one person I know who can help us.” He closed his eyes, pictured his fiancée clearly in his mind, and played the chorus of the song he'd written to propose to her not a
week ago:

I trust
your heart

I believe
your words

I really need your hel
p now girl

We need to save Deryl, please do
your part

So I can believe
your words

And trust y
our heart.

“Joshua?” Came a voice from the narrow entrance of
the cave.

“In here!” He called, warning himself to stay cool.
She's no more real than Lattie was
, he told himse
lf firmly.

Still, when he saw her at the entrance, his heart leapt. “Hey, b
eautiful!”

But instead of smiling in return, her eyes narrowed. “Joshua, is
that you?”

His smile faded into confusion. “What's wrong, ‘
Ko, baby?”

“Where are your bandages?” She asked as walked straight to him, running her hands searchingly over his throat. He could feel the tension in her fingers and in her shoulders as he set his hands over them. It still felt so good to
touch her.

“What're you talking ab
out, ‘Ko?”

“Where are your bandages? Where are your scars? He slit your throat, Joshua; I saw him do it. I thought you were going to die, and the doctors said you'd never sing—” She stopped, suddenly noticing the cave room with its pillows and abundance of plants. “Oh, buh! This is a dream!” She relaxed, though her smile was sad. “Will you sing for
me again?”

“He what? No, babe, he…” A horrible idea occurred to Joshua. He'd somehow summoned the Sachiko from Deryl's illusions. He placed his hands over his fiancée's and drew them from his neck, fighting back the feeling of loss. He guided her to sit next to him. “It's not a dream, babe. What I'm going to tell you is pretty unbelievable, but I swear to you, it's true, and it's real. And if we're going to help Deryl, I need you to be
lieve me.”

He explained everything, starting with Tasmae and ending with Sachiko's arrival in the cave. Her lips curled into a half-smile. “So this is the
Twilight Zone
? Funny. It's more colorful than I'd
expected.”

Joshua chuckled with relief. Illusion or not, this Sachiko had a lot in common with the real one, including her quirky humor and ability to stay calm and focused no matter what the situation. He knew he'd made the right choice summoning her. They could
trust her.

That same calm, however, made Tasmae suspicious. “You're taking this very well, considering that means you are also an
illusion.”

She shrugged. “It explains a lot. I can only remember very specific—and none too fun, mind you—snatches of time, all at SK-Mental and all involving Deryl. All pretty horrific. I'm actually glad to know the real me's alive and fine in another dimension. Besides, if I'm an illusion, then that means my Joshua is, too.” She reached out to touch his face. She ran her hands over the smoothness of his neck again. “I'd rather you were the real one,” She whispered, then her voice strengthened. “But if the real Deryl's caught in that illusion, then he's in big trouble. He's in the maximum intensity ward, he alternates between rocking and chanting that nothing is real, sobbing over what he's done to you, and raving at someone named Alugiac—and they've brought in some doctor—Alouicious Acker—who wants to loboto
mize him.”

Tasmae's eyes rolled into the back of her head and sh
e swooned.

The two eased her onto the cushions. Almost immediately, she struggled
to sit up.

“Just relax a minute,” Joshua urged. “You can make plans lying down just as easily as sitting up,
you know.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock you,” Sac
hiko said.

“It wasn't that,” Tasmae said. “Deryl. Something's happened.” Suddenly, tears flooded her eyes. “Alugiac's winning. Deryl's starting to believe whatever illusion Alugiac has set up for him. I'm losing Deryl, I can
feel it!”

*

“Deryl, look! How sad.” Clarissa stopped and pointed at a father trying to console a little girl of
about six.

Joshua and Sachiko were in town for their visit, and they'd decided to go to the street carnival. They were passing by the arcade area when they saw the father trying unsuccessfully to comfort the sobbing child. Clarissa, already feeling the mothering instinct, ran up to them to ask what was wrong. It turned out the father had been trying to win one of the large animals at the ball toss, and had finally had to call
it quits.

“The game's gotta be rigged,” he said to Deryl and Joshua as the ladies tried to comfort the girl. “I know it was probably the wrong thing to do, but her mom and I split up and I don't get to see her much now, and she loves white Bengal tigers, and I just—you know, wanted to be a big shot for her. I played varsity, you know? Now we have to go ho
me early.”

“No you don't,” Joshua said as he quietly pressed a some twenties into the man's hand. “Go ride the rides. Eat too much cotton candy.
Have fun.”

Deryl, meanwhile, was looking at the stand the father had pointed to, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the bored yet smug look on the carnie's face as he counted out his earnings. “First, you're going to win your daughter
a tiger.”

“I told you, it's gotta b
e rigged.”

Deryl crouched down in front of the sniffling girl. “Know what I think?” He told her softly. “I think your Daddy just needs one more shot—and maybe a kiss for luck. What do y
ou think?”

“We don't have any more money,” Sh
e sniffed.

“Sure you do.” He reached up behind her ear and pretended to pull a five dollar bill from it. “I'll bet it
's lucky.”

The father clearly thought it was a bad idea, but his daughter looked at him with such hopeful eyes that he took the money and went back to the stand. Deryl and the others followed. The man behind it smiled and his eyes shone
greedily.

“Back again! This is your lucky day, I can feel it! Your daddy loves you very much, little girl!” He almost shouted the words with plastic e
nthusiasm.

Deryl looked at the five baskets sitting at angles. “Which one should he aim for?” He asked the li
ttle girl.

“That one, Daddy!” She pointed. “It's lucky, I
know it!”

“Sweetie, there're no guarantees,” the m
an warned.

“You'll do it!” She said, and kissed his cheek
for luck.

He sighed, took the ball and aimed at the basket. They all watched
intently.

He threw.

Deryl con
centrated.

The ball sailed in, landed a
nd stayed.

“A winner!” the carnie said disbelievingly, then spoke with more enthusiasm as he heard the girl's screams of joy and the cheers of the others. “That's right, ladies and gentlemen! A winner, right here! Congratulations, little lady,” he said with a false smile as he passed the tiger to her. He puzzled over the baskets while the father and child gave the couples enthusiastic hugs and heartfelt thanks and went on
their way.

“Isn't that bear cute?” Clarissa asked, and Dery
l laughed.

“Still a ball left,” he said and threw it into a basket without bothering to aim…physicall
y, anyway.

“And we have another winner!” the man at the carnival stand shouted enthusiastically, though his eyes couldn't hide his
surprise.

Clarissa squealed and clapped as he passed over a squishy four-foot ve
lour bear.

“Where are we going to put that?” Der
yl teased.

“We'll find a place,” clarissa replied smoothly as she hugged the bear. Then she bumped her shoulder against him. “Besides, if you didn't want it in our apartment, why'd you win i
t for me?”

“I figured it was another one of those craving-things.” Clarissa jabbed her elbow into him. She still wasn't showing and hadn't had much morning sickness or cravings, but that didn't stop him from making jokes. “Seriously, I just wanted to wipe that smug smile off that gu
y's face.”

“Hey, let's go ride some rides,” Sac
hiko said.

They got to the Round Up first, and the person running the ride wouldn't let them take the bear on, so Deryl volunteered to stay with it. Joshua elected to wait with him, and the girls gave the man their tickets and got on. Soon the ride was whirling in a circle and tilting and they could hear their wives' laughter among the shouts and screams of the other riders. Deryl set the bear in front of him and leaned his elbows on the temporary fence. Joshua mimicked hi
s posture.

“So how long have you been able to do that again?” He asked
casually.

“Do what?” Dery
l bluffed.

“You're not fooling me, buddy. There are going to be quite a few more winners at that game now, aren
't there?”

Joshua looked at him directly, but Deryl couldn't meet his eyes. He stared at the whirling bodies in the spinning circular cage. “I just evened the odds,” he
murmured.

“That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. Clarissa calls ‘Ko a lot. She's worried about you. You are taking your me
dication?”

“Ask her. She counts my pills every night.” He meant to say it lightly, but it sounded bitter ev
en to him.

“I'm as
king you.”

“Fine.” Deryl turned to confront his friend. “Tell me straight up: Are
you real?”

Now it was Joshua's turn to drop his eyes. He swore softly. “Deryl, what do y
ou think?”

“I'm as
king you.”

“How am I supposed to prove to you this
is real?”

“Because…” Deryl started then stopped. How could he explain? Sometimes, he heard snatches of Joshua's songs—on the radio, in the elevator—and the world around him would seem so fake, so wrong. “Because I trust you. Just be straight
with me.”

Joshua sighed. “Seriously, I don't know how to prove it. The philosophers have been trying to do that for thousands of years. It's the whole ‘brain in a vat' c
onundrum.”

Or psyche in the Netherworld
, Deryl's mind whispered. He tried to hide his disappointment and his frustration. It had been over two months, and he still continued to experience blackouts and holes in his memory. Still, he had encounters with Tasmae, where he'd meet her, love her, lose her, often by her being killed in some kind of battle that he'd refused to take part in. Still, he felt the Master's whisperings, trying to lure him back to his training. Now, he was having odd visions of two planets crashing, of the inhabitants falling into a trance, of power surging through him as he reached out, becoming large as a solar system. Through it all, that voice in his head, usually accompanied by pain, insisted none of this
was real.