There is much I still do not understand about the energy source represented in the temple. It is clear that the mosaic-work depicts the bond between human and animal and this is a source of significant energy. The question is, where does this energy come from? The mosaics suggest there is another world parallel to this one, from which this energy stems. This has significant implications for the future of technology, of energy, for humanity. It has the potential to be the healing salve for the terrible wounds we have inflicted on this planet and to our brethren: the living beings with which we share an ancient kinship.
Brock Williams, Working Notes.
Derek sat on the floor of his quarters, his back against the bed. He flipped through the pages of a worn folder. The photographs and notes seemed familiar. He studied a photo of temple ruins, another of a dirt-smeared woman with an archaeological trowel. “What is this?”
Fang handed Derek a cup of tea and leaned over his shoulder. “That’s Miranda. She was my PhD supervisor, and the Chief Director of the MRI before Vulcan. These are her notes.”
Despite the late hour, Derek was instantly alert. He cradled the mug in his hands as Fang sat down next to him. She pulled a woolen blanket down from the bed to cover their legs, tucking them into a cosy cocoon. Derek tried not to notice the pleasant warmth of her leg against his. He spread the photos across the floor and flicked through the notebooks. “How’d you get this?”
Fang looked at the splayed photos. “Brock gave them to me, before he died.”
Derek tried to sort the contents into some kind of chronological order. His fingers froze on one photo. He stared at a mosaic of three teenagers and their animals. He swore it was Eli, Ariana and Fletcher, but there was no way their existence could have been predicted thousands of years ago.
“When Miranda first showed me that photo, I didn’t really listen to her. I thought her talk about spirits and energy was all nonsense. But then I met Eli and Ariana.” Fang blew on her tea before taking a small sip to test the heat.
“And Fletcher,” Derek added, examining the photographs. He tapped on the image of an ancient ruin. “What’s the significance of this place?”
“According to Miranda’s notes, there is a temple that is home to an order of monks dedicated to preserving the walker lineages.” She picked up the photo. “Miranda spent years studying the ruins and reconstructing the mosaics. I never understood why.”
“You’ve had these for months,” Derek said, flicking through the notebook. What else was Fang hiding?
Fang returned the photo to its spot on the floor. She turned to face Derek. “Honestly? I didn’t know if I could trust you.” She smoothed the blanket over her feet and raised her mug as if giving a toast. “Forgive me?”
Derek faltered at the hopeful look in her eyes, seeing his own fear and pain mirrored in their hazel depths. “It’s been a while since I could trust anybody,” he said softly, raising his own mug to clink hers. He turned back to the photos to hide the faint blush blooming on his cheeks. “What conclusions have you reached?”
“Science has not helped us explain the walkers’ abilities. We got nowhere trying to understand Ariana’s aura. Vulcan’s electromagnetic weapons barely scrape the surface of the energy source the walkers and convergers represent. It is well beyond our understanding of what is scientifically possible.”
A memory flashed: Ariana chained and convulsing in the shock chamber. Derek shuddered. Weeks of data had led nowhere; they’d tortured the sea walker for nothing. Derek hated it, hated himself.
Vulcan now had more than a dozen functional convergence activation sequences. His army was growing more powerful by the day. Images flared to life in Derek’s mind. Claws cleaving flesh, the terrified screams of the dying, the staccato of gunfire. “I don’t believe in spirits, Fang.”
“Neither do I, but think about this: the walkers’ existence was predicted thousands of years ago. Their emergence now can’t be a coincidence.” Fang ran her fingers across the photographs, trying to divine their meaning. “In Bulgaria, you mentioned a parallel world. What did you mean?”
The first time Ariana and Fletcher had crossed over to what they called the spirit world, Derek had been shocked when he and Robyn found them sitting frozen by the stream, like they were unconscious or dead. “It’s not a physical place – their bodies remain physically here. And, to be honest, I never asked them about what it was like in the spirit world. I think a part of me never believed them. I don’t know.” He shrugged.
Fang pulled her knees up to her chest with a sigh. “And I didn’t listen when you first told me.”
Derek looped a tentative arm around Fang’s shoulders, was astonished when she didn’t pull away. “I don’t blame you. The whole idea is crazy. But don’t you think that if your supervisor was studying this temple, there must be more to it?”
Fang leaned against Derek’s shoulder, drawing the blanket tighter around them. “I think the answer lies somewhere in Miranda’s notes. Two places at once,” she murmured. “Funny.”
Derek picked up one photo after the other and studied them. There was Miranda standing next to a young man wearing a bamboo hat, his face cast in shadows. Yet, something about him was familiar. Hazy thoughts pricked at Derek’s mind but refused to come into sharper focus.
“Oh my God,” Fang exclaimed, untangling herself from the blanket and jumping to her feet. She raced over to Derek’s desk and grabbed a pen and paper. “This problem is beyond biology, beyond chemistry. This is about physics.”
“Physics? Not my specialty,” Derek said. He cringed as Fang pushed aside his stack of books. “Those were organised alphabetically!”
Fang frowned at him and shook her head. “Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle means we cannot simultaneously measure the position and momentum of a particle. But the principle can also be applied to energy and time. If time is more constrained, then energy is less constrained, and vice versa.”
Fang dumped her cup on Derek’s desk and drew two overlapping circles. “Here’s us, here in the physical world,” she said, writing the words in the left-hand circle. “And this is the spirit world,” she went on, annotating the right-hand circle.
Derek tried to remember his second-year physics classes. He was desperate to keep up with Fang’s brilliant mind.
“Quantum theory predicts that we can know where a particle, or energy, or in this case, a person is, but we can’t accurately know when they are there, or how fast they’re travelling.” Fang’s eyes shone as she glanced up at Derek. “That would explain why you could see their bodies in the physical world whilst they were actually visiting the spirit world.” Fang traced the two circles again with her pen. “Can you imagine the incredible amount of energy that gives them access to?”
“But then what the hell is this?” Derek said, pointing to the tiny overlap between the two circles. “An in- between state?”
Fang beamed at him. “Exactly! Quantum theory also predicts a state in which it is possible to know both location and momentum, energy and time. This could be the source of the walkers’ power.”
Derek couldn’t tear his eyes away from Fang’s drawing. With two simple circles, she’d been able to conceptualise the physical and spirit worlds. And she’s on my side. Hope surged through his system.
“In which case, if the in-between state has even more power than the spirit world then the walkers are human nuclear reactors!”
“Correct.” Fang drummed her fingers on the desk, frowning in thought. “Humanity has never dreamed of such power.” Then all the joy left her face. She turned back to her diagram and scrunched it into a ball, hiding it in her pocket. “We cannot tell Vulcan about this. Imagine if he had access to such a vast amount of energy.”
“There’s no way in hell I’d ever tell him,” Derek assured her. It suddenly felt imperative to pack away the photos and notebooks. He glanced at his watch. 3.10 am. They’d been here for hours.
By the time he stashed the folder in a drawer and locked it, Fang had fallen asleep on his desk, her head pillowed on her arms. Derek pulled back his bedclothes and carried her to bed, then gently tucked her in. Wrinkling her nose, Fang rolled over with a sigh.
Derek folded a spare blanket in four to use as a pillow and lay down on the floor beside Fang. He shook out a second blanket and pulled it up to his shoulders. Wherever Eli, Ariana and Fletcher were right now, he hoped they were safe. He’d made so many mistakes but maybe now, thanks to Fang, he might finally be able to make amends.
Fang woke to the sound of running water. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It came back in a rush: Derek, the folder, her quantum theory explanation for the walkers’ abilities. A blanket lay in a tangled heap on the floor. I slept in Derek’s room. Fang tore off the covers. Thank God she was fully dressed. She must have been so exhausted she’d passed out. The clock read 7.15 am. She’d missed her gym session and the cafeteria would already be bustling. Fang grabbed her jacket from the back of Derek’s chair and slipped into her heels. Derek had seen her asleep, her blouse crumpled, and her makeup was probably smudged so she looked like a racoon. How humiliating. It made her skin itch. Pull it together. Confiding in Derek had made everything about being here at HAARP more bearable. Friends even. But she was still escaping before Derek finished his shower. As Fang punched in the code, the water stopped and Derek called her name.
Shit. A wave of guilt washed over her. “Yes?”
Derek stuck his head out the door, steam billowing behind him. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Damp curls framed Derek’s face and even though his torso was wrapped in a towel she could still see his naked chest. I don’t know how to do this. It had been so long since she’d had either a lover or a friend, she couldn’t remember the rules. Fang forced a smile to hide her embarrassment. “I need a shower. I’ll see you in the lab later?”
Derek stepped out of the bathroom, dripping water on the floor. “I’ll work through Miranda’s folder and see if I can find anything else.” God, was Fang blushing? He moved closer as she fumbled by the door.
“Great,” Fang squeaked. She punched in the rest of Derek’s door code and mercifully, the door slid open.
“Hey. Last night – you were brilliant,” Derek called out as the door closed behind her.
A passing soldier smirked. Fang’s cheeks burned. Shower, she needed a shower.