The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(74)
The familiar state overcomes me, and Thomas’s experiences come flooding in.
Chapter 24
We look over all the people who showed up at Kyle’s funeral, our thoughts a jumbled mess. To a very large degree, most of these people knew Kyle as little as we did, and maybe less so. We know enough about him to not mourn his passing. If we’re mourning anything, it’s our chance to learn a little more about him, good or bad; he was our biological father, and only a single person in the whole world will ever get that honor. Not that this title is all that special. What really matters is the person you call ‘Dad,’ and for us, that person lives in Queens. That person may not be our flesh and blood, but he’s a million times more of a real father than Kyle could have ever been. He and Mom, our adoptive mom, are the best parents we could’ve wished for. Our longing for knowledge about our biological parents didn’t stem from any sort of dissatisfaction with Mom and Dad.
Thinking of Mom pulls our gaze toward someone else—a woman who, if it weren’t for Kyle, would’ve gladly taken her place. How different would our life have been, growing up under Lucy and Sara’s roof? Growing up alongside Darren? Would we have been more like him? Or are we the product of our genes, as Liz insists? That’s a frightening thought, given how much of a bastard our father was. Are we capable of the same evil as Kyle?
There it is—the crux of our turmoil. That and regret. We really wish we hadn’t made such a big deal of Kyle’s passing when Darren was telling us about the whole conference debacle. He probably thinks we harbor him ill will for killing our biological father. Truth be told, at the moment when we realized why Kyle got himself killed, we experienced some instinctual negativity. Shortly after, though, during our drive back to the hospital, we understood that Darren had done the right thing. But since we said, “I don’t want to hear more,” we’ve felt a wedge come between us—a wedge that will hopefully dissipate soon. The good news is that Darren doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges, so with time, things between us should return to normal, as if Kyle never existed. This funeral is a good start, and we’re here in support of Darren and Lucy as much as for ourselves—possibly more for them.
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.