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Zander
Trusting someone who once threw you into a mind prison over a simple misunderstanding was a ludicrous concept even for me. Asking him to place you back in one might have been evidence that I should have stayed in the Earth psychiatric hospital a little longer. I may have a few issues I need to work out, though I’m sure the great meditators of Plethorous Nine would say it’s all part of my loving nature, before asking for a small donation of my entire life savings. Joke’s on them. It would indeed be a small donation.
Introspection. Now there is a calm, peaceful experience meant to put you in touch with your true self. Underneath the masks, and the masks over the masks, at your core, there was a you so pure it existed as absolute truth. A truth I would finally uncover.
Zander, meet Zander. A man I had not seen in longer than I could remember.
Instead of the cathedral-length space full of gadgets and gizmos and robots playing cards, Nimien took us directly through to a tiny chamber that was far too familiar for comfort. This lab would have given a mad-scientist chills of envy—though I’d gotten through that phase centuries ago, that much I did remember—if it wasn’t for his taste in chairs.
Two empty reclining chairs on a glowing white pedestal.
So, I might have PTSD. My instant reaction to the sight was for my heart to stop for a few beats, then invent a new dance trying to catch up with the time it has missed.
Sally reached for my hand. I gripped her tight. Somehow, she had become my rock in all this. Grounding me when I got charged.
“I’m out,” said Blayde, taking the words right from my mouth. “You can’t possibly think we’re that gullible.”
“I just repurposed the tech. Veesh,” said Nimien. “You can’t possibly still be sour about that.”
Sour? Please. We’d passed sour and entered the realm of flavor profiles the human tongue couldn’t process.
“You trapped us in our own minds, Nimien!” I spat. “How could we possibly not be over that?”
“He did what?” said James. “Dang. It would take me like, seven books to catch up with all your shit.”
“Maybe ten,” muttered Sally.
“The device folds your conscious mind into your subconscious, and that’s it,” he continued, climbing up on the platform and gesturing like a car model. I wasn’t buying it. “Technically, you will be experiencing an incredibly vivid lucid dream.”
“Except last time, we couldn’t wake up from that dream, now could we?”
I couldn’t believe him. No, I couldn’t believe myself. If this was a trap, it was a genius one right to his caliber—and I had fallen right into it. Like a carnivorous flower, this labyrinth had been made appealing to its prey: the promise of my history, my very self, sitting all perfect in the middle, drawing me in until it snapped closed behind me.
Yet if there was a simple, single chance there really was a way to get my memories back, then I should take it, shouldn’t I? Reverse the lobotomy, regain my autonomy. To be able to jump anywhere, anytime, as freely as Sally—
Oh, how I envied her.
“Screw it. If it means defeating the Dread, I need to at least try to get myself back. I’ll go first,” said Blayde. “Zander, if he tries anything...”
“You have to go together,” said Nimien. “I’m sorry, but it reduces the risks. You two are each other’s tethers. With so many shared markers, not only will the data retrieval be easier, but one of your gaps can be filled by the other’s information. It won’t be fun, but it’ll be effective.”
James snorted, hoisting herself up on a desk and watching us with wide-eyed curiosity. If Nimien was mortal here like the rest of us, would she be able to draw her sidearm before Sidera? Every time we’d met him in the past, Blayde and I had been alone. But we had friends with us this time. Maybe we were safer than we thought.
“Look, I know last time was... shitty,” said Nimien, holding up a bouquet of wires. “But I have no intention of harming you. If anything, I’m looking forward to getting the server space back once you’ve re-download your memories. Do you know have any idea much room you take up? I had to invent an entirely new cooling system just to keep the databanks running. I can finally use that for some new VR games.”
“So we close our eyes, and when we wake up, we’ll have our memories back?” I asked. Nimien brightened up the instant I made eye contact.
“No, you’re going to have to work a little,” he said. “The mind is a powerful computer. You’ve got to sort out your firewalls. Now sit.”
Sally squeezed my hand. “If he tries anything, I’ll kill him. Again. For good this time.”
Knowing how much the last time destroyed her, I knew that wasn’t an idle threat.
I had learned to accept her invulnerability. She stood by my side through everything the universe had ever thrown at me. I could trust her with this; I knew I could. But why didn’t I want to?
“Seriously,” she said. “If he even twitches in your direction, I’ll put my foot—”
I scooped her up in my arms and kissed her. Who knows, this could be my last time. The heat in her face as she reached her arms around my neck to kiss me back was like basking in the heat of the hottest star.
“I love you,” I said, after having to stop to breathe. “Whatever happens in there, whoever I become, I’ll still be madly in love with you.”
“You’d better be,” she replied. “But I’m excited to meet all of you.”
She pulled me close for a hug, her lips brushing my ears and sending shivers up my spine. As excited as I was to find my past, Sally was my present, my future. I would give it up if I had to, for her. I was more excited to meet the man I would be, than to face the man I had once been.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Blayde was already hooked up in her chair, making a big show of avoiding looking at Sally and me. Nimien had placed electrodes across her forehead and temple, but her body was free. No straps holding her down. I felt my wrists, the memory of the restrains still clear in my mind. Breathing was becoming complicated.
“I’m not going to do anything,” said Nimien. “Non-invasive procedure. You locked the memories away, so it’s up to you to get them back. Now don’t worry, I’m sure your past self probably left instructions somewhere. Just dive right in.”
I sat on the chair, let him place the electrodes over my forehead, cool metal against sweaty skin. Sally clutched my hand, watching Nimien’s every move like a fifty-thousand-eyed Oculusian who’d just discovered stare-roids.
“I can’t wait for you to show me your home,” she said, tightening her grip on my hand. “To meet your family.”
“You’re the only—”
And Sally became a cloud.
Unfortunately, Nimien had meant dive right in literally. No gentle introspection for me. Only the utter exhilaration of being thrown face-first into an ocean miles below. The emerald-green water was a nice touch.
I’d had worse therapy. Stars, I had been waterboarded before. But this was the first time it made me felt like I was actively dying.
The ocean was deep, and I clawed my way to the surface, gasping as fresh air filled my feebly mortal lungs. Salt clung to my nose and throat. My heart pounded against my ribs, trying to break out and make it on its own. I scrambled for purchase under an orange sky.
But there was nothing except empty ocean for miles and miles, green and smelling oddly of Tetraceenian bubblegum.
If this was my subconscious, it was in serious need of redecorating.
“Hey,” cooed Blayde, sitting in a rowboat in the middle of the nowhere sea.
“Hey.”
“Beware of ogvoks,” she said.
I swore, propelling myself to the boat. There weren’t many sea creatures that scared me, but ogvoks were a category of their own. They may look like sharks, but would you trust a shark capable of wielding a sword? Personally, I do not.
No one even knows where they get their swords. They’re not exactly known for their blacksmithing skills. Carpentry? Sure. But blacksmithing?
“Thought you might be underwater.” She held up a baby hand for me to see. I cringed. Not fun, losing an arm. “Hate ’em. You climbing in, or are you going to keep paddling around like ogvok bait?”
She held out her adult arm. I grabbed, and she hauled me in. The boat was small, carved out of a single piece of wood, large enough for the two of us and nothing else. It was old, the varnish dull and peeling.
“No oars,” I noted.
“Easy.” Blayde held out her hand, palm up, and an oar appeared out of thin air. “Now you.”
Dreamscape. Brilliant. I held out my hand, concentrating hard on an oar. Instead, a wave slapped me in the face. Blayde tutted.
“How did you do that?” I asked, snorting the salt from my nose.
“Simple. It’s like in a dream, anything you think, goes.”
“Then why isn’t it working for me?”
She frowned. “Maybe we’re not in a shared mindspace yet. We must be in mine.”
Which explained why the sky was my least favorite atmospheric shade. Once you see a purple sky, you never go back. Well, unless you’re mortal. Then it will kill you.
“Since we’re in your mind and all,” I asked, “can’t you just imagine being somewhere and get there?”
“Do you have any idea where we’re going? Nope, have to do this right. We’re rowing.”
“And where are we rowing to? It’s not like there’s a map.”
“Oh, but there is!” She grinned the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her face. “Think about the boat, Zander.”
I gave her a confused look. So did the ogvoks. Not that they were invited.
“I’ve never seen it before,” she continued. “So why would my mind create this particular boat? Why not make a hoveryacht while I was at it? It had to be past me looking out for now me. I’m guessing it will take us where we need to go.”
I nodded. “Wonderful. It’s nice of your brain to welcome us with open arms.”
“Well, it’s definitely welcoming me with open arms. But you? You’re practically parasitic. There’s probably more than a few ways this could go wrong.”
“Veesh, thanks a lot for that. I should just go to my own brain, then.”
I exhaled salty breath. The sooner we sorted her brain, the sooner we could get to mine. A shiver of trepidation ran through me. Would I be happy with what I found? The thought was quickly washed away when another wave hit me square in the face.
“Don’t think so hard,” she snapped, conjuring a second oar. “Do you have any idea how taxing it is to have your individual thoughts running through my head? Just try not to think about anything. I bet my subconscious mind is going to be a whole lot weirder once we get there.”
“This isn’t your subconscious?” I scoffed. “What the void is the point, Blayde?”
“Calm down,” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t draw any more attention to yourself. Besides, do you see anything of interest around here? We’re in some kind of liminal space for the moment.”
“When will we reach the subconscious?”
“We’ll know when we get there—I hope.”
I tried to put her out of my mind as we rowed. I let her steer. This was her mind; she should know the way around it, liminal space or not. The silence bred introspection, which meant spinning Sidera and Nimien over and over in my head. My non-daughter and undead protégé with a penchant for revenge. I had seen him before and trusted him over and over again apparently, spilling my burdens to him every time they got too heavy. Over and over again, I had come here, to Nimien, seeking relief. A cycle of pain and unburdening.
Worse, someone had built the labyrinth around him. Punishing him for not only what he’d done to us, but also what he had done to others. People like Sally. Someone other than me wanted to stop Nimien. Like an all-you-can-eat buffet, it was a lot to digest.
Eyes looked up at me from either side of the boat, shimmering underwater, and it hit me that I was thinking too hard, too deep. Blayde’s mind was fighting back. Waves rippled on the ocean’s surface, rearing and ready to strike.
“Land, ho!” Blayde cried, thankfully bringing my attention back to the bloody boat.
Sand dunes with oddly familiar faces stared at us from the beach, black glass sand waiting to suck up our footsteps. The ogvoks went about deconstructing the boat for parts the second we’d left it, enthusiastically twisting the faded wood into office furniture.
“Where to now?” I asked as the completed desk vanished beneath the waves. “It’s your brain. Shouldn’t you know the way around?”
Blayde shrugged. “If our time at The Hill taught us anything, it’s that I have absolutely no idea what’s going on up here.” She rapped a knuckle on her temple, and I braced myself, half expecting the whole island to shake. “Come on. We could have miles to go.”
Above the ridge sat a house-sized bird, perched on the branch of a charred failure of a tree. Its crimson feathers existed in patches, leaving pale skin exposed. While it was looking right at us, the cloudy eyes didn’t seem to know we were here.
“Ah, maybe this is a clue,” said Blayde. “My good mental bird, how are you? Are you a signpost? Or maybe a repressed emotion?”
It gave a small cough, fell to the ground, and died.
“This is either a sign of tremendously healthy coping mechanisms,” I said, watching the corpse turn to ash and blow away on a gentle wind, “or quite the opposite.”
A small egg rose from the ground, cracked open, and out hopped a chirping, healthy chick.
“This is like a dream I once had,” said Blayde, cringing. “Only I think it had more strippers.”
“You’re thinking of Batalghast’s five hundredth birthday,” I said. “I’m sad to say that wasn’t a dream.”
“Sad? It was the most fun I’d had in ages!”
The chick grew, flew to the branch, a beautiful shade of the reddest red, chirping the freshest and purest song I had ever heard, a simple handful of three notes so musical I knew there could be nothing more perfect in the world. Then the feathers fell in places, the bird grew fat, the eyes grew cloudy, and with one loud cough, it fell off its branch and died again.
“This place is strange,” I muttered as the ashes blew away to reveal another egg.
Blayde nodded. “My brain is weird. Shall we move on?”
“Please.”
We headed toward mountains, impossibly tall peaks that rose high ahead of us, piercing the only clouds in the sky. But Blayde’s subconscious island was littered with junk: a set of Goothian party lights; the tattered remains of what had been a long blue trench coat; a collection of over a hundred rifles barrel-down in the sand, close together like the spikes of a porcupine. A dragon roasted in his armor, the skeleton of a knight beside him.
I followed her into the tall grass, letting the plants tickle the palms of my hands. Little by little, the sand was completely replaced by grass, and shortly following that the grass became taller and stronger. Soon we were marching through waist-high weeds, which were doing a mighty fine job of hiding any more of the strange shit from us. The mountains grew in the distance. My eyes had been so fixated on them that I tripped over the first body.
The first of many.
This was a field of the dead.
“Just try to walk around them,” said Blayde, nonchalantly. The rising wind told me she was definitely chalant.
I couldn’t not look down, not if I wanted to get where we were going without falling. There was a face I recognized, staring up at the orange sky with a glassy dead-eyed stare. A warlord from centuries past, three tongues sprawled over his face.
What a heavy weight, all these corpses she carried around.
Splat. A low-flying bird collided with my face, cawing.
“Stop thinking,” said Blayde. “You’re drawing attention!”
We crossed through a forest and back out the other side, which brought us to the base of the spires of mud. Too steep to climb, we opted instead to walk around them, which then brought us back down to a strange beach—this one had not only a half-sunken Lady Liberty but also an hourglass where the sand rose and disappeared—and up into a canyon between the rock formations.
As we walked, I began to notice caves along the wall, some at ground level, others higher up, formed there by time itself. Somehow, I knew those were my sister’s memories, though obviously not the ones she was looking for since these were out in the open.
Here’s hoping my mind has them in a cooler locale. Maybe a spaceport? Not a library.
A few miles into the narrow canyon, we were stopped by the first thing that seemed to have been placed there with purpose.
A gate.
“Told you we’d know,” said Blayde. She reached for the lock, but it didn’t budge. No sign of a pad for a key or biometrics. She frowned, staring at it with the piercing look she reserved for prey when she was feeling feisty. But no amount of staring could burn through that lock.
“Have you tried imagining the key into existence?” I asked.
“No, that thought never even occurred to me.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the first thing I tried, dumbass.”
A Kroll warrior phased into existence on top of the gate, exactly how Kroll warriors don’t. The whole point of the Krolls was that you should see them coming from miles away. The anticipation would usually make the opposing army die of fright. They made the classic Kroll shatatatata noises, waving their arms around like a windmill. Oh thank Derzan, this place was getting dull.
“Look away!” shouted Blayde, throwing her hand in front of her eyes. “Hypno-arms!”
The Kroll leapt into the air, doing a double somersault on their way down, landing in front of us with her arms still spinning. Every patch of skin and hair was covered in the vibrant, mind-bending patterns of their creed, leaving only the eyes exposed, so the only thing I could say for certainty is that they were humanoid and had an expensive silk habit.
“You were thinking again, weren’t you?” Blayde cursed under her breath.
“Is this really you?” asked the Kroll, voice muffled by their wrap. They bowed, arms wide. “You have returned to us, Goddess divine.”
I took a step back. I’d been a deity more than enough times. If Blayde wanted to be worshipped by her own subconscious, that was her prerogative.
“Um, rise, and all that,” said Blayde, tapping them on their shoulder. “Glad to be here. Who might you be?”
“I am the gatekeeper,” they said. “Set here by you last time you took form, with strict orders never to open this gate for anyone.”
Blayde frowned. “Let me guess. Even me?”
The Kroll nodded. “Unless you best me in battle.”
I sighed, and Blayde turned just to glare at me. It hadn’t been conscious. We’d just been through this shit more than once, and it was pretty tiring that Blayde’s own mind would pull a fast one on her like that.
I took a seat on a nearby rock. I used to love this kind of spectacle, but I knew how it went now. It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.
The Kroll didn’t give two shits about me; their focus was completely on my sister. Blayde took three steps back, putting one leg gently forward in a comfortable battle stance. The Kroll did the same, putting their arms up and wide, a clear sign they were unarmed. Blayde slipped off her coat and tossed it to me, and—the loving and dreadfully bored brother I was—I caught it and folded it on the rock beside me.
Instantly, twin swords appeared in the Kroll’s hands, which they twirled expertly. Relief washed over me. Maybe this would be over pretty quick.
“Woo,” I cheered, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. “Go team!”
“No rules,” said the Kroll. “Last woman standing enters the gate.”
“Fun!” said Blayde, calling forth two swords of her own. “I love death matches. Especially since I can’t die and all.”
“You die, and everything here dies,” said the Kroll. “It is the way of all things.”
“But then you die. So don’t I win either way?”
The Kroll put her weapons by her side. “This isn’t how it works! You’re meant to fight me to the death!”
“You’re sucking the fun out of this,” Blayde huffed. “I guess I won’t get killed then.”
They nodded, poised, and attacked.
There was no idle pacing. No sizing each other up, no measuring weaknesses and openings. The Kroll lunged at Blayde, catching her by surprise and nicking her shoulder with the sword. Blayde hissed, dodging out of their way, blood dripping into the gritty sand.
My heart dropped. For the first time since I would remember—which admittedly might not be as long as I think—she was way out of her depth, her only advantage gone. That was her move, to attack first and force her opponent on the defensive right off the bat. Her move—
“Blayde!” I called, as realization hit. “You can’t win with swords! The guard has your memories. You can’t—”
“I got that!” she snapped as she rolled out of the Kroll’s swoop and attempted a trip, though it failed miserably, tripping her instead. It was as if the Kroll could anticipate her every move.
“Behind you!”
“Stop helping!”
Blayde lifted her hands, dipping both swords down onto the ground. The Kroll saw the opening and lunged, but Blayde was ready. She leapt up, springboarding off the two swords, flipping over the Kroll’s head as a wooden staff appeared in her hands. She landed, striking her opponent across the back and shoving them face-first into the ground, the swords melting away into dust as the black-clad woman lost control. Blayde’s foot came down heavy on their chest, pinning them down, the staff hovering an inch above their neck.
I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long time since I’d seen Blayde so evenly matched, and if she’d lost here...
“Kill me,” the Kroll ordered.
“No. You have been a worthy opponent. You shall not die today.”
“Look, all that goddess stuff earlier? Just trying to flatter you. We both know I’m just an image projected into your subconscious. Kill me now, and you get what you came for!”
“I don’t give a shit. I win, so I get to not kill you. I walked through my murder field. I don’t want to add another corpse to it. Even if you already live rent-free inside my head.”
“Suit yourself, then,” she snickered.
She grabbed Blayde’s foot, propelling her off their chest. They grabbed the staff with both hands, thwacking her across her midriff and forcing her to the ground, pinning her under the staff with their entire body weight over her chest.
Blayde heaved as I darted forward to help her, only to be thrown back by a hand of stone. I pushed myself up, desperate to see the scene, to act, to stop her, but the stranger was already lifting her hand to undo the wrap around her head—
Now Blayde looked down at Blayde with fury burning from her eyes.
I should have seen it coming. Who else could guard Blayde’s memories as efficiently as Blayde herself? My heart pounded in my chest, so hard I thought it might break a rib. Could the Blayde from Blayde’s subconscious kill her true self? And if I lost Blayde, here... I would lose myself, too, in more ways than one. I gripped my seat, except that it was a rock, so my fingers scraped against stone, nails tearing.
“You are weak,” said Other Blayde through gritted teeth, pushed down on her future self’s throat. “Weak. Weak and useless.”
“Oh my stars, this is exactly what I wanted,” said Blayde. “This is so hot. Quick, let me conjure up a thermal pool—”
Other Blayde ripped the staff away, gagging.
“You are worse off without your memories,” she continued, the staff in her hand dissolving into nothing. “Losing them has made you weak. And, dare I say, gross. Thus, you need the memories back. But know this. I hid the memories for a reason. Whatever you get back, you do so at your own risk.”
“How do I...”
“For the full ride, just hop into that hole right there.” The gate flew open, and a massive black hole appeared directly behind it. “That will trigger the recall. You may not want to see everything; it’s very long. But you’ll figure out how to travel through it soon enough. It ain’t rocket science. Don’t expect to remember everything at once. It’s been a while, and the memories of boring things like walking somewhere or going to the bathroom are probably gone for good. Pieces of conversation won’t all be there. But that’s no fault of your own. It’s not like you’re in control of your subconscious. Just there for the ride.”
And with that, Other Blayde zapped out of existence, leaving the two of us in stunned silence in the middle of the dusty canyon.
Blayde marched right over to the sinkhole and peered down. I joined her, crouching over the edge and staring into the pit. Dark like a black hole, but with none of the pull—except emotionally.
“So, are we going to do this?” I asked, a little tremor of fear rushing through my veins. This was it. The moment of truth. We would know where we were from, where home was. My hands shook as I stared into the pool. Who would I be when I came out the other side?
“Only if you’re ready,” she said.
“You sure you want to do this?”
She took a deep breath. “No. We locked these memories away for a reason, Zander. What if we can’t handle the truth?”
“We locked them away because we weren’t strong enough to face them,” I replied. “I don’t know about you, but I’m strong enough now.”
“Let’s hope so,” she said, taking my hand. “Let’s face our past.”
