The Elders (28 page)

We can’t wait until Lucy is ready to learn about us. Liz thinks Lucy will be ready very soon. If she knew who we are, we wouldn’t have to be standing off to the side like
a stranger. If only—

All of a sudden, all the sounds of the graveyard go away. Someone pulled us into the Mind Dimension. And then, before we can see who pulled us, a foreign presence enters our mind.

You will kill Darren . . .

I, Darren, disassociate as the sinister instructions begin. I must’ve instinctively jumped into Thomas’s mind during Kyle’s funeral, and it paid off. If I had any doubts
as to Thomas’s motives, they’re now gone. He doesn’t harbor any resentment toward me. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a look at the Super Pusher before the bastard entered his mind.

Oh well. I won’t waste any more time. I have to resolve the situation with Mira, so I give Thomas my instructions:

You will halt. You will not harm Mira. She is your adoptive brother’s girlfriend and your close friend.
You will defend her with your life. Try to wake her up from whatever state she’s in. If she wakes up, tell her Darren is close by. Tell her to stay here, and no matter what happens, keep her and yourself safe.

* * *

Exiting Thomas’s mind, I feel like a man who’s taken his first breath after swimming underwater for several long minutes.

Mira will not die.

“She will not die by Thomas’s
hand,” Mimir’s thought corrects me. “But you haven’t secured the Temple for Mira, your grandparents, or the monks.”

“You’re right,” I reply. “I have a few more people to Guide. The question is: how do I find them?”

“I can lead you,” Mimir says. “Follow me.”

The huge mini-universe of synapses that is Mimir appears in the distance. He then retreats. I teleport after him, and he retreats again.
After a few jumps, I see faint entities in the distance. Another couple of jumps, and they become more apparent. Only there are three of them, whereas I was expecting two.

“The one on the right is Julia,” Mimir explains, “which would make the other one the attacker, Richard. The one farther in the distance is Rose.”

“Julia wasn’t Inert?” I wonder if my excitement was transmitted with my thought.

“She was not, and your grandmother wisely delegated the task of pulling in Stephen to a younger woman.” His thought sounds reproachful.

“I didn’t know Julia was an option,” I think, suppressing my defensiveness. “I didn’t try bringing her in after I succeeded with Rose. I assumed everyone else was Inert.”

“You know what they say about assumptions, but I will not use up valuable time listing
the numerous plans that would’ve been much safer than yours.” Mimir’s reply is curt.

“I appreciate your restraint,” I think back. “I need to know something else, and I know we’re pressed for time, but—”

“It was I who prevented the Super Pusher from Guiding your grandmother and, for that matter, all the other Enlightened,” Mimir says, answering the question I was thinking of.

“How?”

“He tried
to pull her in, and not just her. He tried to pull in every one of them. When he did, he brought a part of them here, to
Nirvana
.” He projects the last word again with relish. “Once a part of them was in Nirvana, I was able to be there, in that session, just as I can be in your sessions. Then I prevented the connection, which to the Super Pusher must’ve felt as if they were Inert.”

“But how?”
I think. “And what about Caleb? He also seemed immune to the Super Pusher.”

“Caleb was protected by another being similar to me—the one the two of you created during the Joining you did when you learned how to fight,” Mimir explains.

My head is spinning from his explanation, but more so from the reminder that there are more creatures like Mimir out there.

“Don’t call us creatures,” his thought
tells me.

“Fine. What should I call you?”

“Call us something with more gravitas. How about Transcendental Minds?”

“That’s a mouthful,” I think back. “How about I call you Trannies for short?”

A mental snort arrives in my mind. “In that case, please call us Omni Minds, or Omnis if you must make everything short. Now, we still don’t know how much time you have left, so you must save the Enlightened—now.”

“Wait, what about Julia? Was she immune to the Super Pusher too?”

His reply is rushed. “Yes. Another Omni, one that was formed when the Enlightened Joined with Julia. Now focus. I refuse to communicate with you until this threat is neutralized.”

I rein in my million questions about the Omnis and focus on the constellation of neurons that is Richard. This time, I teleport without needing an intermediate
jump. I think I’m beginning to get the hang of teleporting in Level 2.

Richard’s mind has no scent, which makes sense since I’ve never Read him before, but I do so now.

* * *

Our mind is as focused on our task as a self-navigating missile.
Find the Enlightened. Kill the Enlightened.
The Instructions repeat in our mind as we stalk our targets through the forest.

I, Darren, take a quick
mental note of what’s going on. This is Richard’s mind. He just finished dealing with the cops I turned on him, and he’s running to catch up with the Enlightened in the forest. Reluctantly, I let the memory unfold.

We run like a berserker without sparing a thought for the branches and roots in our way. When the white figures appear, every muscle in our body prepares to carry out their execution.

An old man steps away from the group.

“What do you want, Pusher?” he asks, his voice firm. Over his shoulder, he orders, “Go. Now.”

On some level, we know he’s afraid, but on another very distant level, we marvel that an elderly, weak-looking man like him would even confront us this way.

The instructions take over.

We silently walk up to the man, expecting a chase. He doesn’t run; in fact,
he tries to stare us down.

We respond by executing a punch. Our fist drowns in the old man’s soft midsection. As we watch him double over in pain, we push him.

The old man falls to the ground in a flutter of white robes.

We draw our leg back to kick him, so we can finish the job and deal with the others.

I, Darren, disassociate with a shudder. There’s something abominable about turning a man
into a living, breathing killing machine the way the Super Pusher has done. Anyone short of a true psychopath would feel
some
empathy when hitting an elderly man like that—at least I would hope so. I’m also touched by Paul’s bravery. His treatment of me aside, I’m glad I’ll be able to save the old son of a bitch.

I instruct Richard:
You will not kick the man in front of you. Furthermore, you
will not harm a single Enlightened or their entourage. In fact, you are their protector, and your primary goal is to get them to the safety of the forest. To show them you aren’t a threat, you will kneel with your hands behind your head and tell them, “I am henceforth your protector. Command me. Oh, and hi, Paul. I’m being commanded by Darren, your grandson, who says, ‘Hello, asshole. Sorry you’re
in pain. Rose will fill you in on what’s going down.’”

With that, I exit Richard’s mind.

* * *

“Well done.” Mimir’s thought is the first thing I experience when the blackness of Level 2 overtakes me again. “Now follow me.”

He teleports and I follow.

I eventually see them—the bundles of light. I count five, which means Caleb succeeded in his task of bringing in George, Kate, Eleanor,
and James without getting killed.

Of the five minds I see in the distance, most are clustered in a group that looks like a small constellation that’s roughly a third of Mimir’s size. Slightly to the side of them is a single pattern.

“Okay,” I think, half to myself, half to my guide. “How do we figure out which is which, or who is who?”

“That is a very good question, with far-reaching consequences,”
Mimir replies, his neurons flickering brighter than usual.

“Were you about to suggest something?” I think, this time directing it toward Mimir.

“Well, to start, I know someone who can identify Caleb,” Mimir explains. “Once he does, we’ll have to improvise as we go.”

A new collection of neurons suddenly appears in front of me.

The being is alive, with its synapses firing frantically, same as
Mimir’s. This being is noticeably smaller than Mimir, though—about six times smaller to be precise.

“Yet I’m twice as big as you, kid,” a new voice in my head says. “Besides, it’s not the size of the mind that matters, but how you use it.”

“You’re another Omni.” I’m overcome with awe at this realization. “The one that’s me and Caleb combined, right?”

“No, you’re actually schizophrenic, with
two voices speaking in your head, not to mention delusions of grandeur.” This thought comes with a smirk. “Obviously that’s what I am. Call me Daleb.”

Ignoring the spike of anxiety his joke provoked, I reply, “You just combined our names together and put the ‘D’ of my name first. Does that mean mine is the dominant personality that makes you ‘you’? Your tone sure sounds more like Caleb’s.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Daleb responds, seriously this time. “I’m both, but neither one. There is no predominant anything. I’m me, not one of you.” Then, with another mental smirk, he adds, “I’m Daleb because I didn’t want to be Carren, which sounds like a female.”

“So you think of yourself as male?”

“Gentlemen,” Mimir’s thought intrudes. “We’re trying to save Caleb. I would think of all
of us, you, Daleb, would not want to put his life in jeopardy.”

“The mighty Mimir is right,” Daleb replies. “The one that’s slightly farther from the cluster is Caleb. Easy to spot. Please save him, Darren. I’ll owe you big time if you do.”

“How did he herd them all into one spot like that?” I wonder. “I wish he hadn’t.”

“Read him to find out,” Daleb suggests. “Maybe he has a visual of where
they’re each standing.”

I teleport to the big cluster and single out Caleb. I intend to do what Daleb suggested: Read Caleb to find out how his mission went.

Coherence comes quickly this time, and with it, I enter Caleb’s mind.

* * *

We run toward the Temple doors, ignoring our pursuers’ bullets. We focus on those doors as though they’re the gates to heaven.

Then we half jump, half
slide—a culmination of all those times we stole base as a kid. We’re inside. We jackknife to our feet and turn to close the doors. We’re going to make it. The heavy doors are almost shut; there’s only a sliver left.

The cursed sword manages to slide in through the crack.

Our environment slows down a little, as it often does while we’re in battle mode.

The sword jabs toward our torso. We dodge,
but don’t let go of the doors. Then the sword slices to the left and excruciating pain follows. Stupefied, we see the surreal image of our left hand falling to the ground. Realizing what just happened intensifies the pain in our arm.

We keep fighting, forcing our body to stay alert to prevent it from going into shock, which would undo everything.

All wounds heal once we exit the Mind Dimension,
we remind our freaked-out lizard brain.

With our bulletproof vest, we lean on the sword.

The weapon doesn’t break, though it should have, but the bitch wielding it decides to pull it back, probably planning to thrust it right back in.

Capitalizing on the temporary reprieve, we shut the doors and then stick what’s left of our left arm into the door handles, the way one would with a stick. With
our right hand, we also hold the handles shut. We know our forearm can only take a few seconds of pounding.

We wish we could look at the watch, but it’s on the floor, attached to our severed hand.

It’s way past eight, kid,
we think.
What the fuck are you doing to me?

A kick on the door generates a bone-breaking surge of agony—

* * *

I’m back in Level 2, welcoming its pain-free emptiness.

Those were the last moments of Caleb’s mission. He clearly did as we asked by pulling Kate and the others in, but the delay Eugene and I experienced caused him a lot of hassle and pain. The reason Kate and her team are clustered so closely together is because they’re standing next to each other in the Quiet, by the door of the Temple.

Remembering the pain Caleb suffered to get this plan to work
makes me mentally shudder again. At least his pain will be temporary. Once I’m done in Level 2, he’ll be back on the battlefield, wrestling with Eleanor, with all his limbs still attached to his body.

“He’s a tough mofo,” Daleb’s thought reassures me. “And he’s been through worse pain.”

“We have a big problem.” The tone of Mimir’s thought is full of concern. “We still don’t know who is who.”

“Why
is
that such a big issue?” I wonder, shaking off the terror.

“Because, obviously, if you start with the Super Pusher, he will join us in Nirvana.” Daleb’s thought is snide in that irritating, Caleb-like manner.

“Do we know for certain that he’s even among them?” I reply as calmly as I can. As with real Caleb, I can’t let him get to me, but the dilemma I face is that if Daleb is anything
like Mimir, he can read my mind, annoyance and all.

“Nothing is certain,” Mimir interjects. “But I’m fairly sure the Super Pusher is one of these four.”

“Oh, come on, kid,” Daleb adds. “You already know who he is. On some level, you’ve known since all this shit went down.”

He’s right, but I haven’t wanted to admit it, because admitting it would mean I’ve been taken for a fool.

Since I can’t
hide my thoughts from the two Omnis anyway, I allow the thought to surface in my mind.

“It’s George, isn’t it?”

Chapter 25

“D
on’t be so hard on yourself, kid,” Daleb thinks at me. “It could’ve been anyone.”

“It only became apparent after his double cross.” Though Mimir’s thoughts are attempting to soothe me, I’m getting more and more livid.

“It was George who suggested that each of us walk with five or six cops,” I think, as much for my own benefit as the Omnis’. “The fucker did it so he could
kill me once he got the one thing he needed from me: the Temple’s location.”