The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(66)

“I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “The monkey was trained to touch you under very special, non-romantic circumstances. Please go on.”

“Indeed, she was trained to pull me whenever we placed a mirror in front of her and covered her ears to make sounds go away—conditions that simulate a Split. The conditioning worked, as did my device, because she pulled me into the Mind Dimension.” He says this with a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “So, in part, that was a success.”

“A phasing chimpanzee,” I mumble wonderingly and walk over to the ape in question.

“Indeed,” he says without the enthusiasm I would’ve expected.

“Okay, give me the but,” I say and fluff the fur (or is it hair?) on Kiki’s head.

“We couldn’t replicate the experiment afterward,” Eugene says. “And here’s what’s most worrisome: she’s no longer Readable.”

I try to Read Kiki, just to see it for myself.

“You’re right,” I say after a few moments. “She’s not.”

Eugene nods. “It’s almost as though she’s gone Inert. An unanticipated outcome.”

“Could it be that something about chimpanzees is different from humans when it comes to that region of the brain?” I ask hopefully.

“That’s exactly what Bert said. Then he convinced me to test the device on him.” Eugene gestures at my disheveled friend.

“By your expression, I’m guessing that version didn’t go much better?”

“Bert entered the Mind Dimension, pulled me in, and after merely a moment, we Split, leaving the Mind Dimension behind. Since then, he’s been as resistant to Reading as Kiki. Needless to say, the machine didn’t work on him again.” Eugene wearily runs his fingers through his hair. “Please try to Read him, just to make sure it’s not something to do with me.”

I touch Bert’s forehead and enter the state of Coherence.

Nothing. Not even the white noise I get with the monks. It’s as if I’m touching a doorknob.

“Nada,” I say. “But maybe it would work better on one of us?”

“I was contemplating testing it,” Eugene says, “but I was afraid.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” I say without a hint of hesitation. “You’ve got yourself another lab rat.”

“Darren, you don’t understand—”

“Oh, I do.” I can no longer keep the urgency out of my voice. “If I don’t, a lot of people will die, including Mira.”

“What?” His eyes widen. “What happened?”

I tell him everything. When I finish, instead of panicking, Eugene starts moving around the van. He looks as if he’s tidying up the place, and I’m so confused that I ask, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m setting up the device,” he explains curtly and continues.

I watch him prepare, impressed by his cool-under-pressure demeanor.

“Try this on.” He throws me what used to be a bicycle helmet. With the many holes drilled through it, it now looks more like a pasta strainer.

I put on the device and adjust it; my head is much bigger than Bert’s.

“Good,” Eugene says and takes the helmet back.

He then proceeds to thread a bunch of cables through it.

“Help me with this.” He points to a big device in the corner—the brains of the TMS machine I bought him.

I help him lift the heavy machine onto a funky cart with big wheels. “Why the cart? Where are we going?”

“From what you’ve told me, you have to be in the proximity of your target when in Level 2,” Eugene says. “So we’re taking this to the Temple.”

“Oh.” Fighting confusion, I watch Eugene place the helmet and a bunch of peripherals onto the cart.

“Let’s go,” he says and rolls the cart down the ramp attached to the U-Haul.

“Wait,” I say. “Something just occurred to me. How am I going to use this thing? Technology doesn’t work in the Quiet. Not to mention, we have no idea if it will actually work.”

He doesn’t reply as he goes back into the van.

“Here, start turning this,” he says, handing me a gizmo that looks like a can opener. A cable connects it to a square piece of metal.

I eye the device dubiously. “What the hell is this?”

“A wind-up USB charger with a battery,” Eugene explains. “I also rigged one so that the turning wheels of this cart will charge it.”

I turn the thingy, but my face must look confused, because Eugene adds, “This has to do with technology in the Mind Dimension.”

He starts walking, pushing the cart in front of him, and I follow.

“It’s only very delicate technology that has a problem with subparts being frozen,” he says. “For example, the liquid crystals in LCD screens, or the electrophoretic technology that’s behind the Kindle display. As you know, things like wind-up watches and guns do work, as well as many other gadgets, including the majority of electrical ones. It’s just that most screens look dead. Also, worse than the display problem is the fact that the power source of most devices doesn’t flow electricity, which includes batteries. They don’t retain their charges. Since batteries and screens are so ubiquitous in current technology, and so important—not to mention that nearly everything requires a live current—you and many others have gotten the impression that technology doesn’t work in the Mind Dimension.”