The Elders (33 page)

According to the media, some ex-mercenary turned drug lord started a cult in northern Florida. His followers shaved their heads and wore robes
like Buddhist monks, and they trained in martial arts as part of their crazy religion. During an inter-departmental police mission to rescue a missing child, the officers came across the cult and their giant mansion/temple. Things escalated from there, turning into an ugly confrontation.

“It’s scary,” Mira says once I’ve finished my food. “If the Elders can make regular people believe such a
load of bullshit, it makes you wonder what other world events they twisted.”

“You sound like Bert.” I push the tray away from my face. “Help me get this crap off me.”

“No.” Mira glares at me. “Let me get the nurse. Stop trying to be a fucking hero.”

The nurse comes over so fast I’m convinced someone Guided the medical staff to be at our beck and call.

The nurse gives me more painkillers, changes
the bandages on my head, takes out the IV, and assures Mira I’ll be fine without the oxygen. Both women help me get to my feet.

“Crap, my ankle really hurts,” I say to the nurse when my foot touches the ground.

“I’ll bring you a chair,” she says. “This way your girlfriend can—”

“No wheelchair,” I say, horrified by the idea. “I’ll just walk slowly.”

I take a couple of tentative steps. It hurts,
but it’s bearable—barely. The nurse leaves, and I limp out into the hallway, refusing Mira’s assistance.

Kate is standing guard by the door outside. “You’re walking.” Her smile appears genuine. “That’s a very good sign.”

“How’s John?” I ask.

Her smile falters. “Not as good as you, but he’ll pull through. The surgery went without a hitch. Thanks.”

“Good.” I remember Caleb’s fingers digging
into John’s throat and mentally shudder. Shaking off that image, I tell Kate, “We’re going to walk around. Do you know which room my grandfather, Paul, is in?”

Kate nods. “Walk down this hall until you see Eleanor.”

Mira and I slowly make our way to the room, and after saying hello to Eleanor, we enter. Turns out that Paul is sharing a room with Edward. Rose and Marsha are here as well. Mira
looks at the setup curiously. I already warned her that my grandparents each have significant others, but it must still seem strange to her.

“Darren,” Rose says, smiling. “Glad to see you up and about.”

“Just wanted to check on Paul,” I say. “Rose, Marsha, Edward, Paul, have you met Mira?”

Paul looks me over, his typical ‘just ate a lemon’ expression warmer than usual.

“Rose told me what you
did for me,” he says gruffly. “And I’ll never forget what that Pusher, Richard, said when he stopped beating me up. Thanks for that.”

I recall the little joke message I Guided Richard to deliver to Paul and chuckle. Clearly Paul didn’t take offense.

Turning my attention to Edward, I ask, “How are you?”

“I’m just here to keep Paul company,” my grandmother’s husband says. “I’m not hurt enough
to need a hospital.”

“Thanks for saving my husband,” Marsha says.

“And mine,” Rose adds.

I incline my head in acknowledgement of their thanks, and say in a not-so-subtle-warning, “I hope this puts an end to any unfortunate visits from Caleb or the monks.”

Paul nods. “Let’s forget the past.” He sounds as if he’s talking about a manufacturing defect his company was responsible for.

“Sure. But
first, do you ladies or gentlemen have anything to say to Mira?” I ask, unable to help myself.

Mira gives my arm a painful squeeze.

“We’re all sorry about what happened, Mira,” Rose says. “Truly, we are.” She gives Paul a look.

“You were asleep when we left you in the guestroom,” Marsha echoes. “For what it’s worth, we thought it was your friends who were shooting everyone, so we didn’t think
we were leaving you in any danger.”

“This whole thing got out of control,” Edward adds. “Caleb shouldn’t have taken anyone. His orders were to grab Darren as he was leaving the funeral, that’s all. Still, even though we didn’t order your abduction, Mira, we shouldn’t have gone along with it. We should’ve ordered him to return you to Darren.”

Paul doesn’t say anything, so I sigh and say, “Okay,
I’ll go now.”

“Darren, wait,” Paul says, and I stop. “Come visit us once we’ve rebuilt the Temple and settled down,” he says in a low voice. “Rose and I are your family, and I know she wants you to be part of her life and . . . so do I.”

I figure this is as close to an apology as I’m going to get from Paul, so I say, “Sure, Grandpa.”

“You too, Mira,” Paul adds. “Please come with him.”

Mira
nods and pulls me out of the room, probably sensing that I’m on the verge of saying something snarky that might ruin the goodwill the Enlightened are trying to create.

We walk silently toward the elevator, with me trying to move without aggravating my ankle and Mira looking thoughtful.

“You
are
going to stay in touch with them, right?” Mira says as we stop in front of the elevator.

“Are you
really asking me to be nice to them?” I press the elevator button and turn to look at her. “You, the person they kidnapped?”

“They’re your only connection to your dead father.” The elevator doors open, and she walks in. “I’m not suggesting you forgive them, or that what they did was right. My point is: what harm could it do to stay in touch with them? See where it leads?”

I give her an amused
look. “You know, I sometimes forget you’re actually younger than me.”

I limp into the elevator and press the button for the first floor.

I expect Mira to say something like, ‘In terms of maturity, I’m double your age,’ but she just steps up to me, rises on her tiptoes, and kisses me.

I kiss her back. Having her close almost makes me forget about the missing Quiet in my life—a lack that might
be everlasting.

We’re still kissing when the elevator doors open. Thomas and Liz are standing there, observing us with varying degrees of fascination.

Being caught kissing by my shrink makes me feel surprisingly like a naughty schoolboy. I steal a glance at Mira, who doesn’t seem fazed at all. Her manner is so casual, it’s as if she was caught wiping dust off her shirt.

Thomas gives me a sly
smile, while my shrink studies Mira.

“Liz, you’re here, at the hospital?” I ask, realizing the silence lingered too long.

“Liz? What are you talking about? She’s not here,” Mira teases. “Imagine how ironic it would be if your hallucination took on the shape of your shrink.”

Liz smiles and says, “I came as soon as I heard.” She protectively loops her arm through Thomas’s elbow. “Thanks for rescuing
him.”

“No problem.” I don’t know what else to say, so I just exit the elevator, doing my best not to make my ankle worse. I follow the hallway sign to the cafeteria, and the others follow.

“We were actually going up to see you,” Thomas says, speeding up to walk beside me. “I just heard from Hillary. She and your mothers are about to arrive.”

“Oh.” I give Mira a worried look. “How bad do I look?”

“You’re walking, you’re talking.” Mira runs her fingers through her hair and grabs the scrunchy holding it in place. “Sara shouldn’t freak out too much.” In an elegant gesture, Mira tightens her hair into a much neater ponytail. “What’s our story, by the way?”

“About that.” I look over at Thomas and Liz. “I was thinking of going for the big-bang approach.”

“How big of a bang?” Thomas asks, his
eyes gleaming with hope. “The
whole
truth?”

“Yes, like that oath in the court room.” I feel a little lightheaded. “Liz, is this a good idea? I mean, is Lucy ready to hear the truth about Kyle?”

As I wait for her to answer, I lean on the sterile white wall to rest for a moment.

“She’s as ready as she’ll ever be.” Liz and everyone else stop walking, waiting for me to recover.

“Can you do your
Xanax thing on both of them as I tell them all this stuff, including how I got hurt?” My moment of weakness passes, so I resume walking and my friends follow.

“I think I can do better.” Liz looks surprisingly excited. “If Mira would assist me, I think we can do something unprecedented in psychiatry. I can Split, pull her in, and she can monitor Lucy and Sara’s thoughts from the Mind Dimension.
She’ll tell me what needs adjusting, and I’ll fine-tune their reactions in real time.”

I stop again. “I’m not sure that would work,” I say, remembering how I couldn’t pull Mira into the Quiet back at the Temple. I look at her. “Aren’t you Inert, Mira?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I was, but I’ve recovered now. I ran out of Depth during the trip, when I woke up from being drugged and tried to
figure out where we were, but as of this morning, I have a couple of minutes of my Depth back. It’s not a lot, so we might need to use Hillary’s Mind Dimension, but I can certainly help Liz.”

“Oh, great.” I suppress an irrational flare of jealousy as we start walking again. I’d kill for even a couple of minutes of Depth right about now.

“Yeah, it’s going to be very interesting,” Liz says. “Would
make for a great research paper, if only such things were allowed.”

“I see. You want to use my moms as Guinea pigs.” I nod a silent thanks to Thomas for holding the cafeteria door, and gesture for Mira and Liz to go in ahead of me.

“I think it could be a very effective method of therapy,” Liz says, accepting my chivalry with a smile.

“She might be right,” Mira says as she follows. “This sounds
like a way to minimize their distress while still giving them all the information.”

“Wait, Liz,” I say when I’ve caught up. “You don’t mind if I tell them about the existence of Guides, right?”

I’m prepared for a negative answer; I've always suspected she was on the conservative side of this issue.

“I don’t mind,” Liz says without hesitation. “Provided you take full responsibility for them
knowing, by which I mean you will Read and Guide them to make sure they don’t do something crazy—like go to a newspaper.”

“Of course I will, and in any case, they wouldn’t,” I say, realizing Liz doesn’t know that my Inertness might be permanent.

“Then why would I mind?” Liz smiles. “I don’t see how else you could explain Thomas’s situation without delving into such matters.”

“Speaking of that,”
I say. “Thomas, how about you? Are you ready for this?”

Thomas’s voice thickens as he says, “I don’t even know what to say . . .”

“He’s been dreaming of this, I assure you,” Liz says, and Thomas gives her an unreadable look.

Is this why she’s being so accommodating? For Thomas’s sake?

Instead of voicing any of this, I just say, “Well, good. Hopefully, the shock of the truth will obscure the
parts where I was almost killed. Though when it comes to Sara, I’m still worried.”

“We’ll take care of it.” Liz winks at Mira. “Don’t you worry.”

I can’t help but think how amazing it is that Mira and Liz—or Mira and any Guide—are working together. If someone wanted to put the Elders’ dream of peace to the test, this would be the way to do it. If they (Mira especially) don’t rip each other’s
hair out, there’s hope that our people can come to an understanding.

We select a secluded table in the cafeteria, and Thomas instructs Hilary to find us there. Meanwhile, Liz brings everyone some food. Having worked up an appetite during our walk, I decide to have a doughnut and coffee, which pleases Mira disproportionally.

As we eat our food, Liz explains her proposed Reading/Guiding process
to Mira in greater detail while I plan out what I’m going to say to my moms when they get here.

* * *

“Darren, what happened to your face?” My mom Sara’s voice is predictably tense and high-pitched. I hope Mira and Liz are on it, as Sara’s on the verge of hyperventilating.

Thankfully, Liz and Mira don’t disappoint. They look slightly distracted for a second, and then Sara noticeably relaxes—well,
relaxes as much as Sara can. She probably now feels the normal amount of anxiety a parent should experience upon seeing her offspring banged up.

In other words, she looks as worried as Lucy.

It seems as though Mira and Liz are successfully working together—so far, at least. I wonder whether they bickered while in the Mind Dimension. Damn it. If I weren’t Inert, I could’ve been there to see for
myself.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I say to Sara. “Please, sit.”

 
I try to project health and vitality—not an easy feat when you’re brimming with as much morphine (or was it oxycodone?) as I am.
 

“Those stupid bandages probably make me look worse than I actually am.” I figure telling them the truth doesn’t mean I need to burden Sara with the gory medical details about my ribs, concussion, ankle, et cetera.
The truth is, physically, I
am
okay, or will be soon enough.

They sit down, and Lucy asks, “Did someone do this to you, or was it an accident?”

Her voice is calm, but I recognize a dangerous question when I hear one. That is, the answer would be dangerous for whomever I might name as the responsible party. She’s in that lioness mode of thinking.

“I fell on the ground and got bruised,” I say.
Then, much less confidently, I add, “I also got into a little fight, but the person can’t bother me anymore, Mom.”

I take a nervous sip of my lukewarm coffee and prepare for an avalanche of follow-up questions.

I see Lucy mentally put on her detective hat, but a second later, she looks unnaturally relaxed and doesn’t ask me whatever it was she was about to ask. Liz, who’s sitting on my left,
winks at me, and Mira bumps my knee with hers, signaling that team Mira and Liz scored again.

Hillary is sitting very quietly, which tells me my friends have briefed her in the Quiet and are likely using her prodigious Reach to help with their task. Usually, they would’ve used me. That thought heightens my feeling of being left out of those secret, outside-of-time conversations. Then again, maybe
I should get used to it.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys,” I say. I rehearsed this line in my mind a million times over. “It’s going to be hard to believe.”