The Enlightened (Mind Dimensions #3)(21)

Now I understand. If she thinks these people are paranoid enough to put cameras in the hypothetical bedroom where we’d do it, she also sees them as capable of eavesdropping on us right now. Even if they have cameras in this room in the real world, they wouldn’t work in the Quiet, but it’s all too plausible that my grandma is putting her ear to the wall, waiting for us to reveal our plans.

“I have an idea,” I whisper. “But if it fails, I don’t have a backup plan.”

“If your idea fails, we’ll still have time,” she responds quietly. “I had a birth control implant put into my arm two years ago. So, for another year, I can’t get knocked up.”

“But that would mean we’d—” I cut myself off, shaking my head before I can complete that thought. “No, no way. And besides, I need to get out of here fast.” At her questioning look, I say, “It’s a long story.”

“We can say yes and play it by ear after,” she whispers.

It doesn’t sound like too good of a plan to me. I also really don’t like the idea of them not yet having used their ‘most persuasive arguments’ on me. I don’t even want to know what that would entail.

“So the plan is we both say yes to this?” I ask. “That’s a prerequisite for my idea too.”

“We don’t have much choice,” she whispers. “If your plan works and you get out, can you tell Eugene to call me, please?”

“Sure,” I whisper back, glad she can’t see my face. Her mention of Eugene reminds me of my guilt. “You guys haven’t talked recently?”

I’ve been wondering how the events in New York affected Eugene’s interactions with Julia, the girl whose father is dead because of us. In some stoic Russian tradition, Eugene has been avoiding the whole subject of Julia. Mira told me he’s been avoiding Julia too, though she saw that as a positive, having never approved of the relationship. And now it looks like she was right about Eugene taking the avoidance route. I can’t really blame him. I have no idea what I would’ve done in his place.

“No,” Julia whispers, this time louder. “I haven’t heard from him at all since—” She swallows audibly. “Since my father was killed.”

“I heard,” I say, trying to keep my voice expressionless. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she says, her voice catching.

“I’ll go announce my willingness to do my duty,” I whisper to change the subject. “You might want to return to your body.”

“Sure,” she says. “No offense, but I hope I don’t see you again.”

“None taken. I feel the same way.”

She doesn’t even know how serious I am. I never want to feel this guilt again—the guilt I feel when the subject of her father comes up.





Chapter 9





I enter the Hall and find Rose and Paul sitting in that special spot in the middle of the meditation circles. Not surprisingly, they’re meditating. The sound of my steps pulls them out of their concentration and they look up.

“I’ve thought about it,” I say to Paul when I get close enough so I don’t have to shout across the room. “If you’re really going to take care of the child, I’ll do what you want, but I have one extra condition.”

“Which is?” Rose asks.

“I want you to answer a few questions.”

“Sure,” Paul says dismissively, getting up. “Let’s talk on the way to my body. I’m sure I can answer whatever questions you might have.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Rose adds, rising to her feet as well. “Whatever Paul can’t answer, I’ll try to.”

“Okay,” I say as we start walking. “For starters, what is the Mind Dimension? What actually happens when we Split, as everyone calls it?”

They don’t answer for a bit. Finally, Rose says, “Well, Darren, despite everyone calling us the ‘Enlightened,’ there are many things we don’t know, and this is one of them, unfortunately.”

“But you must have some idea,” I press. “For example, Eugene thinks it’s an alternate universe.”

“We’re aware of that theory,” Paul says, holding the Temple’s big doors open for us. “We saw your memories, remember?”

“So do you think he’s right?”

“The one thing we agree on with that boy is that we’re not truly here in regular, physical form,” Rose says. “In the old days, we called what we do ‘Spirit Walking.’”

“That has a nice ring to it,” I say, “but I don’t believe in spirits.”

“I don’t either,” Paul chimes in. “But you have to admit, this experience has a certain ethereal quality to it.”

“I guess.” It’s disappointing that they know as little as I do. Or that they’re willing to share so little, a skeptical part of me suggests.

I walk in silence for a few seconds, trying to decide what else I want to ask. Then it hits me. “What’s up with the monks? Did you start a religion or something?”

“That is a long tale,” Rose says. “It all started centuries ago, when the first of us, the Enlightened, realized that Joining works best when the host’s mind is as clear from distractions as possible.”