The Enlightened (24 page)

“Oh, come on, Darren. You already know. I gave you the necessary clue the last time we communicated. If not that, then think of what your aunt told you.”

I suppress my panic to reflect. And then it hits me.

“I remember now,” I think in relief. “When I asked what would happen to you in the long term, after the Joining was over, you said you’d phase into the Quiet, to what I, after talking with Hillary, call Level 2. This is the other tier, a deeper version of the Mind Dimension.”

If this revelation is true, the implications are truly unfathomable. It would mean that I did it. I am what my Enlightened grandparents wanted to breed—but a generation earlier than they had thought possible, thanks to my mom’s super-long Reach. This is just as Hillary suspected. After a number of close calls that felt like I was hitting a brick wall, I finally phased into the Quiet—while already being in the Quiet.

“Correct,” he thinks back. “My phasing in was a success, and so was yours after the threat of going Inert, as well as other stresses, finally allowed you to phase into this place as I knew you had the capacity to do. Though I must add that I loathe the term ‘Level 2.’ If nothing else, this is tier three of reality, as you began in the real world.”

“Okay, but what exactly is this? Where is everything?”

”The short answer would be that everything is here. The longer answer would take longer and sadly, like the last time, we must keep our conversation brief.”

“Why?” I think disappointedly.

“Because I have no idea how long you can stay here.”

“Does Depth get used up quicker here?”

“Yes, or at least, we suspect it does,” Mimir thinks at me. “Though since you’re the first and only person I’m ever going to meet here, the theory is not testable.”

“Why am I the only person you’re ever going to meet? Aren’t there Guide Elders who can phase into Level 2?”

“When someone is in a Mind Dimension, it’s their own personal space, not a shared place—”

“But you’re here,” I interrupt. “So either I’m in your Level 2, or you’re in mine.”

“No. The situation is a little stranger in our case. I’m a part of you, remember? So where I am, you can be, and vice versa.”

“So, in theory, if my grandparents could phase in from the Quiet, you would be in the same Level 2 as they are?”

“Yes, but it’s only hypothetical, since they don’t have the required Depth. Which is why I stated that you’re the only person I’ll ever interact with.”

“And yet you don’t think I have a lot of time here.”

“Affirmative.”

“How much time do I have?”

“That’s hard to say. To start, we don’t know how much Depth you’re currently using up. Even if we did, we don’t know the limit of your Depth, even in the regular, Level 1 version of the Quiet. The furthest you’ve ever Read someone was Lucy, and you went a couple of decades back—”

“Wait, how do you know—”

“What you know, I know,” Mimir thinks. “I thought that was obvious by now.”

“Right,” I think. “You’re part of me.”

“The reverse. You’re a part of
me.
Knowing what our subparts—you and the others—are experiencing is one of the rare forms of entertainment my kind and I have. Which reminds me, please protect your grandparents and their Enlightened friends. I know you hold a grudge—”

“Your kind?” I interrupt again. “You mean there are other beings like you, here on Level 2?”

“Time,” he reminds me. “We don’t know how much you have.”

“You’re just dodging the question,” I counter. “I think every time the Enlightened do their Joining, one of you turns up, and you can probably all hang out here because you have parts in common, or rather, people that make you up in common.”

“It’s an interesting hypothesis.”

“If I’m right, is there a version comprised of me and Caleb here someplace? Since I Joined with him?”

“There is. Every Joining produces one of us, but the resulting beings can only Split into this realm when the cumulative Depth of the Joining participants that make them up is strong enough. The other cases are rather cruel twists of fate for the thinking creations that—”

“Wait,” I think. “What’s this Caleb/Darren thing like?”

“The dumbest among us, but a good lesson in human nature,” he thinks. “But seriously, we might not have too much time
...
”

“Can you at least briefly tell me what this place is? What’s the nature of Level 2? Why is it this way? How does it relate to the regular Quiet? And most importantly, what am I supposed to do?”

“You can be very amusing,” he thinks. “You’re treating me as though I’m omniscient.”

“Meaning you don’t know?”

“I can tell you my personal theory. But I’ll have to simplify it so a lesser mind like yours has the chance to understand it.”

“Did you get your sense of humor from me?” I think irritably. “It sure sounds like something I’d say if I were in your position.”

“A tiny portion of my sense of humor came from you, sure. In any case, here’s what I think. When you’re in what you call the Quiet, your mind is in fact only partially there. That part clings to the comforts of your common, everyday reality and, using something like the mechanisms responsible for dreams, makes up that familiar ‘time-stopped’ world for you.”

“If the Quiet is a dream, then what is the reality?”

“That I am less sure about, but whatever it is, it’s a lot closer to what you’re experiencing now. I think here, on Level 2, some of the false veneer the mind clings to is gone.”

“But this place doesn’t make sense,” I think. “All I see are lights.”

“Those lights are neural networks, but you already knew that. It was on the tip of your brain
.”

He’s right. In hindsight, the ‘galaxies’ with interconnected lights are reminiscent of the pictures I’ve seen in textbooks and online of the electrical activity of the brain.

“You got it,” he thinks. “And more specifically, that bright constellation closest to you
is
you
.
The one closest to that version of you is Thomas, and the slightly farther one is Kyle.”

“So if I could see myself right now, I’d see one of those neural-network-looking things?”

“Only yours wouldn’t be slowed in time the way theirs are,” he thinks. “It would be a kaleidoscope of firings between the neurons via the synapses. At least, that’s what I imagine you’d see, if you could see it.”

“You make it sound as if that’s not your experience. And what do you mean time would be slowed? It’s stopped, isn’t it?”

“What you see is not the same as what I experience, but mine would be impossible for you to comprehend. And I am not teasing in this case. My point of view would be as foreign to you as yours would be to, say, a guinea pig.”

“Are you saying that time isn’t stopped?” I think insistently, refusing to feel insulted.

“What you’ve always perceived as time stopping, both in the Quiet and here, is an illusion. The truth is that time passes much faster from the reference point on the inside of the Quiet.”

“You mean to say that if I watched the world from inside the Quiet long enough, people would actually move?”

“You’d get bored waiting for it, and it would take a monumental amount of time, but yes, in theory, that’s the case. The ‘time-stopped’ people are actually super-slow-moving people.”

“Wait,” I think. “You phased out a day ago. Doesn’t that mean you’ve spent a lot of time in here?”

“In a way, yes. But the way I experience the passage of time is different from the way you do. And speaking of time, we don’t have a lot, remember?”

“So you keep reminding me whenever I ask you something about yourself. Let me guess, we don’t have time for you to show me what you look like either?”

“On the contrary. I would love to know what you would ‘see.’ So if you insist, why don’t you try to become cognizant of me? A lot of things work by a matter of will around here.”

I try to see him, to become aware of him, and as soon as I do, a cacophony of light appears.

Lights surround me from every angle. Then the lights move into the distance, and I see the whole entity. If the other networks—the ones that turned out to be Thomas, Kyle, and me—look like galaxies, then Mimir’s looks like the image of the early universe, but a dozen times brighter and with dozens more interconnected clusters.

Then the lights surround me again and he thinks, “You flatter me when you compare me to the universe.” The ‘stars’ comprising him fade. “We really ought to get you started. There’s something you must do.”

“And what would that be exactly?”

“Use your powers to your advantage and then figure out how to get out of here. That sort of thing. Unless you have a better idea?”

“Why should I learn how to get out of here when you keep saying that I’ll exit on my own when I run out of Depth?”

“Because you don’t want to become Inert, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. But won’t I be Inert regardless? The knife Kyle threw at me in the Quiet is going to enter my body when I return.”

“Phasing out of here might take you straight back to reality,” he thinks. “In one of my theories, anyhow. So that’s an incentive to try.”

“Fine. I guess I’m a lab rat.”

“Guinea pig,” he thinks, and as much as it’s possible to think with a smile, he manages it.

“How can I use my powers then? And for that matter, how do I exit? I have no body and no senses. I don’t know where to even start.”

“Start with Reading,” he thinks. “And do it the way everything else is done here. Will it. Desire to absorb Thomas’s pattern. This is what I’ve been doing with yours and what works for me, so it should work for you.”

So
that’s
what the lights surrounding me represented. He was absorbing my pattern. Spooky.

“You got it,” he thinks. “I’ll disconnect from you and leave you on your own.”

Something changes. The feeling of nothingness, of not being, becomes stronger. I didn’t realize how much Mimir’s presence was grounding me.

Through sheer will, I suppress my panic and focus on Thomas’s pattern.

I picture surrounding it.

I imagine merging with it.

It’s unclear how long it takes, but I eventually find myself closer to the pattern.

Yes, that’s the most precise way to explain it. I’m instantly closer, without actually moving toward it, like an electron in quantum mechanics. I jump without traveling the intervening distance.

I decide I’m on the right track and focus on his pattern some more.

Something happens much sooner now.

I find myself surrounding his pattern.

As I observe the light of the neurons that are now inside me, a familiar feeling surfaces in my mind. I recognize it as the state of Coherence—the now-familiar state when my mind feels focused and relaxed right before I Read someone.

And as soon as I enter this state, I enter Thomas’s mind.

Chapter 23

T
he pain from the knife entering our leg is overwhelming.

We rip a sleeve off our suit and improvise a quick tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

The smart thing would be to stay put, as movement increases blood flow and bleeding out would make us Inert, which is unacceptable. But Darren needs our help, so with all our remaining strength, we limp through the corridor, each step more agonizing than the next.

Multiple shots are fired close by.

Damn it. We need to hurry before Darren gets himself killed.

On the bright side, Darren is clearly still alive. If he weren’t, we would’ve been thrown out of his Mind Dimension.

I, Darren, disassociate. Reading from Level 2 is the same as Reading in the Quiet, with one notable exception. I’m Reading a Guide, which was previously thought to be impossible.

It’s a relief to feel grounded in a body again, even if that body belongs to someone else. Despite the excruciating pain in Thomas’s leg, I find it preferable to the nothingness of Level 2. I fleetingly feel bad for Mimir. He has to live on Level 2 for eternity. Then again, I strongly suspect he doesn’t mind. Thinking of Mimir reminds me that I might not have a lot of time. This interrupts my strong desire to Read deeper into Thomas’s past. As much as I want to learn more about my friend, I can’t risk becoming Inert. Not when I know exactly what I need to do. I let his present memory unfold, waiting for it to push me out of his mind.

We hear more shots. We walk faster, and as we do, we fight the lightheadedness that comes from severe blood loss.

We enter the alcove.

We see Darren reaching for a gun and Kyle going from loopy to alert. The bastard must’ve been faking. It’s too late to warn Darren.

We see Kyle motion to throw the knife and raise our gun to stop him. The gun feels like it weighs a ton. The laser sight hits Kyle in the eyes, and we get his attention.

“Don’t. Don’t do it, Thomas,” he says. “Don’t shoot. There’s something important I have to tell you.”

We don’t dignify his plea with a response. Instead, we allow our contempt to show on our face. After that quick indulgence, we focus all our remaining energy on pulling the trigger.

“I’m your father, Thomas,” Kyle yells. The meaning of his words sinks in a nanosecond before we’re about to pull the trigger. “You’re about to shoot your own father.”

Our finger slackens over the trigger.

A frantic chain of thoughts rushes through our mind.

This fits every clue we’ve uncovered about our roots. One of our parents is Asian, while the other is white—a fact we’ve verified through DNA testing, though it’s something we’ve known with a high degree of certainty just by looking in the mirror. From the United States census data, we learned that it’s more than twice as likely that our father was the white parent. When we looked it up, there were 529,000
white male/Asian female
married couples as opposed to only 219,000
Asian male/white female
ones. Furthermore, since we’ve only ever met white Guides, it stood to reason that our father was likely the one with powers.

We never investigated our parentage further than this for one simple reason: if our father didn’t want to claim us as his son, why the fuck would we want to seek him out?