Crown Vic to a Parallel World

10

My Happy Place

“What the hell is a reflection room?”  I asked Shawn as the four of us rode the elevator down to the sub-basement.  I was worried about what Preacanto had said about this power she thought I had.

Shawn explained without looking at me.  The emotion I felt from him was a weird mix of apprehension, excitement, and anxiety.  I didn’t understand the anxiety.  “It’s a room lined with material that magic can’t penetrate.  It’s usually used for prisons, to protect the guards from the inmates.  We have a few holding cells on level B3.  The military used to hold its disciplinary tribunals here.”

“Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars.” I muttered.

Ars sniggered.  He apparently caught the Monopoly board game reference that usually started with the phrase, ‘go directly to jail.’  I thought it was strange to find out that he’d been to Earth.  I thought hard about the things he’d said to me since we met, trying to see them through the prism of the new information.  Something was nagging at the periphery of my thoughts, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The events of the present halted my musings on the recent past.  The elevator doors opened, we got off, and followed Ars down another plain corridor.  We stopped at a door that didn’t exist until he said his name.  Behind the door was a dull-grey corridor that ran straight back with three door-less doorways along the right-hand wall.

“Use any cell you wish Miss Preacanto, yes, indeed, any cell you wish.” Ars staccato filled the strange rooms. “Shall I remain to operate the controls for you?  I am well versed in how these rooms operate and their functional limits.  In fact…”

“THANK YOU, STEWARD.”  Preacanto said with overriding volume.  “You have shown me the room, you may go now.”  She waved Ars away like she was shooing a fly.  I wondered how she got away with it.  Her ability to stop Ars in his tracks was enviable.

I hoped for some words of encouragement from Shawn, but none came.  He followed his uncle back into the main corridor without a word or a glance in my direction.  The door latched and Preacanto and I were alone.  I immediately couldn’t feel Shawn anymore.  That made me nervous, and I tried to open the door, but there was no handle on my side.

“What are you doing?” Preacanto asked my back as her foot impatiently tapped on the floor.

I felt around the door frame, little more than a seam in the wall, and searched for a control panel or release switch.  “I can’t feel Shawn anymore.  I think something happened.  Would you open this please?  I need to check on him.”

“I forgot about the link.”  Preacanto said, the frustration gone from her voice.  “They’re fine.  The magic reflection broke the ‘carrier wave’ to use your term.  As soon as we open the door, it will re-establish.  There is nothing to worry about.”

I had to believe what she said.  I had to accept that he was fine.  I wondered why I was worried.  My emotional link with Shawn was only a few hours old but it felt…right.  When it was suddenly missing, it jangled my nerves.  I stopped groping the wall and turned to Preacanto to wait for direction.  She took us into the middle cell and sat me on the bed, little more than a grey slab that grew from the wall.  It was the only feature in the room.  No running water or restroom facilities made me think the cells were strictly for holding and not overnight residence.

Preacanto stood in front of me with a neutral expression and a calming voice, very different from the impatient woman that she’d been up to that point.  “Church, what we’re about to do is dangerous.  The impression I got from touching your hand, was one of immense power.  That is why I asked the Steward to allow us the use of this space.  If your magic is physical, and I suspect it is, an accidental discharge could kill us both.  I need you to be very calm and centered before we proceed.  I sense you are not calm, let’s talk about that.”

I leaned back and supported my upper body on my backward-reaching hands.  It seemed to me that Preacanto was asking a hell of a lot and I told her as much.  “It would take a week just to scratch the surface of why I’m not calm.  ‘Centered’ would take a month.  If you want to do, whatever it is you’re planning to do, you’re gonna have to lower your expectations.  How about you explain why you think I even have magic, a little about magic, and then tell me what you plan to do?  Then we’ll see if I’m calm enough to get it done.”

Preacanto plunged her hands in her jacket pockets and hunched her shoulders like she thought her neck was too long and it embarrassed her.  “That’s fair,” she said, “we’ll begin at the beginning.  All life is, and has, magic.  Even on this ‘Earth’ world that you’re from, all life is and has magic.  Just because no one on your world has harnessed it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.  As to magic itself, there are three classifications of magic users, divided into two categories.  The categories are ‘direct magic’ and ‘conversion magic.’”

As she talked, Preacanto turned a ‘right face’ on her toes and walked the length of the cell until she reached the wall.  She turned an about-face and walked back until she reached the opposite wall, then the process began again.  She paced back and forth in front of me, like she was a tin duck in a shooting gallery.

“Conversion magic,” she continued with her explanation as she paced, “takes energy from the user and converts it to force to perform a task.  The two types of conversion magic users are Empaths like me and Telekinetics.”

Preacanto held her hand in the air as she paced, with its five fingers spread wide. “Each type of user is ranked into five classes, with the numerically-lower ranking indicating a more complex ability to use that type of magic.  For example, a fifth-class telekinetic can only move solid objects they can see, while a first-class user could move granular objects they can imagine.  Think of underground water as an example.  A first class user could call the water from the ground, form it into a shape, and command it to hold its shape as long as power is applied.

“Alphabetical power ratings are given to users of each class with ‘A’ being the strongest and ‘C’ being the weakest.  So, in the case of the fifth-class telekinetic, if he or she had an ‘A’ rating, they could lift and hold a commuter bus, but the first-class user, with a ‘C’ rating might only be able to raise water from a glass while blindfolded.”

Preacanto stopped pacing to see if I was still with her.  “Make sense so far?”

I nodded that I understood. “So far so good.”

She resumed her explanation and her pacing.  “Direct magic is rare.  It has no sub-categories and only three classes.  These magic users are known as ‘Vitalis wielders.’  They apply energy without converting it.  Hence the term ‘direct magic.’

“One of the iterations of Vitalis magic, one of the more common one’s that is, is known as ‘white magic.’  It’s a form of plasma, a consuming energy that destroys on-contact.  There is also a shielding magic that creates a barrier of energy around the user.  Only first and second-class users can perform barrier magic.  Second-class and third-class users direct their own energy to impact objects.  The third-class user must be in contact with the object, while second-class users can wield energy remotely.  First-class users can control energy directly from nature.  They need not use their own reserves.  The same alphabetical power ratings apply.”

Preacanto stopped again.  “Are you getting this?”

“Sure,” I nodded my understanding at her, “I’m getting it.  It makes perfect sense, except it’s batshit crazy.”

She scowled, then with an almost physical effort, replaced the scowl with a look of deliberate tolerance.  “You’re from a place where magic is a myth.  You will believe.  What else do you need to know before we proceed?”

I executed an inverted shrug as my shoulders were already up because my body was propped on my arms. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”

Preacanto moved in front of me and took her right hand from her pocket and used it to command me to sit up straight.  I slouched toward her instead of away from her and she started explaining.  “I am going to place my hands on your head and my forehead against yours like Shawn did earlier.  I will connect my consciousness to yours.  I will be able to see your thoughts and feelings and memories, but only for as long as we are connected.  Your power lives in your unconscious mind.  I must find it and convince your conscious mind to accept it.  Part of me will distract you while the other part searches for your power.  Once I find it and make you accept it, I’ll leave your consciousness and disconnect.  That’s it.”

I took a deep breath, then another, and shut my eyes.  “Alright.  If you wait for me to be ready, you’ll wait forever.  I’m as calm now as I’m ever likely to be.  Go ahead.”

The little lady in the Christmas pants suit placed her hands on either side of my head, just above my ears, then leaned in and touched our foreheads together.  As we touched, the darkness of my closed eyes was replaced with a view of the brightly-lit holding cell we were in.  I was still sitting on the bed and Preacanto was standing in front of me with her hands in her pockets like before.  I blinked my eyes to make sure they were open and looked around the cell.  It didn’t feel like any time had passed, but I assumed it must have.  “Are you done already?”  I asked.

“We’re inside your mind.” Preacanto insisted. “None of this is real.” She drew her hands from her pockets and waved them around the room. “You could have picked anywhere for us to be.  You chose this because it makes sense to your subconscious…maintains continuity.  This won’t take long, but if you want to pick a different place, just imagine us wherever you’re comfortable.”

I didn’t believe her, so I responded with a challenge.  “Why don’t you pick?”

“I can’t.  We’re in your mind, not mine.”

I thought it was a gag, but I figured I’d play along to humor her.  I closed my eyes and picked a familiar place at random, one I was certain that Preacanto had never seen.  When I opened my eyes, I was sitting on a barstool across from Big Nick.  Preacanto sat next to me.  I had a cigarette burning between my fingers and a tumbler of whiskey at my elbow.  Preacanto surveyed the Friday night crowd with judgmental eyes.  “So, this is Earth.” She said like she didn’t think much of the place. “You spent a lot of time in this bar.”

I drew on my cigarette and blew the smoke away from her.  “Too much time.” I admitted and crushed the butt in the full ashtray. “I was never happy here, but it was one of the few places I wasn’t miserable.”  The time period of the memory we were in was prior to the ban on cigarette smoking.  I supposed I picked that time because, despite being permitted to smoke in the ‘private club’ in the back room, I still felt like a second-class citizen stuffed in a closet.  Being segregated made me feel my addictions more because I couldn’t pretend that I was in the bar to socialize.  I was there to get drunk, nothing more.

Preacanto shoved a cardboard coaster around the bar like her hands were opposing hockey teams.  “You weren’t happy anywhere?”

I blinked and we weren’t in the bar anymore.  I was filthy and exhausted.  I plucked a soot-smeared cigarette from my lips and took a deep drink from a convenience-store-branded bottle of apple juice.  The bottle was full of whiskey, and everyone knew it.  They appreciated that I at least pretended to be sober at work.  Preacanto was next to me again.  I pointed the bottle at her.  She accepted, had a dainty sip, and handed it back.  “You were happy here?” She asked incredulously.

“Sort of.”  She and I stood far to the rear of the production floor of an electric-arc-furnace steel mill.  It was the end of a week-long outage to repair and service the plant.  I’d worked double-shifts for seven days straight and my last shift was finished.  I should have been headed for the parking lot, but I liked to stay to watch the plants that I worked on start back up.  It was like seeing my hard work come to life.

The rest of the crew were leaving.  One of the stragglers paused to wave at me.  “Good job, Professor.” He called.

I flipped him off and he laughed.  Preacanto noticed and apparently understood the gesture.  I wondered if a raised middle finger meant ‘fuck you’ on Solum as well, or if she knew what it meant because she was inside my head.  “What’s that about?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I growled my anger in her direction. “It’s a shitty fucking nickname they gave me because I speak like I have a brain in my head.  Occasionally, I use words with more than one syllable.  They think that I think I’m better than them.  Fuck ‘em.  Watch the plant start-up.”

The operators had finished their pre-start checks and were preparing to melt the first batch of scrap.  The floor shook as an overhead crane loaded tons of metal into a caldron large enough to put six city busses in, if you stood them up on their ends.  The lid shut with a shattering metallic clang and three sewer-pipe-sized electrodes forced their way through the lid into the scrap.  High-tension electricity coursed through the electrodes with a deafening, angry, snapping buzz.  A huge cloud of fire and sparks bloomed from the gaps in the cauldron lid and cascaded to the floor in a waterfall of flame.

I felt a swelling of pride that the plant start-up was successful and at least part of that was because of me.  “Here at least I felt useful.” I explained and pointed at the structural steel that supported the overhead crane that had loaded the cauldron. “You see all that steel up there?  It was cracked all to hell from the weight.  I welded it all back up.  Find the crack, grind it out, plate it, and weld it solid.  That’s what I did, sixteen hours a day for the last seven days.  That crane is up there because my work is holding it up there.” I bragged and had another drink.

Preacanto acknowledged my pride with approval. “It must be rewarding to be able to point to your work like that, to have physical evidence of your job.”

“It can be.” I shrugged, unwilling to accept what I assumed was praise.

I blinked again, and I was sitting on the couch in the room at the Capital Hotel with my left arm wrapped around Shawn.  It was earlier that morning.  He and I were enjoying the afterglow from our shower tryst.  “You must have been happy here.” Preacanto said.  I looked toward the voice and discovered it wasn’t Shawn who I had my arm around, but a naked Preacanto in a white robe.

I squeezed her against me and admitted the truth of the situation as I saw it.  “I wanted to be happy here, but I didn’t dare.  He doesn’t want me.  He wants to be protected.  I’m big and solid and I make him feel safe.  If we pull this off, if we save the world, he’ll leave me and find someone his own age, someone attractive and undamaged.  That’s what he should do.  Until then, I’ll try to be what he needs me to be.  At least when I’m alone again, I’ll have the memories of the time that he gave me.”

She took my left hand with her right and held it.  “You’re a desperately sad man, but you’re very kind.  The only person you hate, is you.  I believe you will handle your power well.  Now close your eyes and try to relax.  I’ve found your magic and am ready to disconnect.”

I shut my eyes.  Preacanto removed her hands from my head and patted the top of it like I was a good boy.  I opened my eyes, and we were back in the cell.

“How do you feel?”  She asked.

“OK.”  I felt a little dopey, like I had just woken up, but otherwise, fine.

“Good.”  Preacanto jammed her hands in her pockets and backed across the narrow cell until the wall stopped her.  “You have two affinities, something which is as unprecedented as your power.  Both are physical magic.  You are a fourth-class telekinetic.  That means you can move solid objects you can see or that you can imagine in detail.  You are also a second-class Vitalis wielder.  As to your power rating…it’s impossible to label you.  Your body is one of a kind in that it converts its own mass to magic energy.  Matter contains an enormous amount of energy.”

I didn’t believe her but decided to play along and accept everything she said as it was given.  I assumed at some point, the charade would be exposed for what it was, and we’d all have a good laugh.  “Could you give me a clue?”  I asked.

Preacanto straightened off the wall with a jerk and stood up straight.  “If I’m right, and I’m certain I am, your telekinetic ability is strong enough to wrench this building from its foundations and launch it into space.  Your Vitalis magic could destroy the city.  These actions would cost you no more than a few ounces to a few pounds of body mass.”

I took my watch off and stretched it.  The woman who was speaking to me seemed serious, but I was back to thinking everything she said was batshit crazy.  My natural cynicism made it impossible for me to believe her.  I slipped the watch back on and issued another challenge.  “OK, show me how to do something then.”

Preacanto’s hands bulged in her jacket pockets like she was gesturing with them without letting me see them.  “You already know what to do.  I left the knowledge in your mind.  It’s better if you learn naturally, but with the fate of the world riding on your power, I took a short cut in your favor.  Do you have a disposable object with you?”

I fished in my pockets and brought out my wallet.  I drew a dollar bill from it and offered it to her.  She accepted the bill with a question.  “What is this?”

“It’s a piece of paper currency from Earth, a dollar.”

She examined the bill, both front and back, and held it up to me.  “Don’t you want to keep it, then?”

“Where would I spend it?” I asked with a verbal shrug.

Preacanto accepted the rationale, crumpled the dollar into a ball, and tossed it into the corridor.  “Now, call it back to you.” She demanded like she was dealing with Ars. “It’s like flexing an imaginary muscle.  Remember, when you gave me the dollar, most of the energy you used was to lift your heavy arm.  When you use telekinesis, you’re not lifting a limb, just an object.  You will need to adjust accordingly.”

Despite the insanity of what she’d told me to do, I tried to do it.  When I focused, I felt the knowledge of how the magic worked in my mind.  Somehow, the information was there, I just had to access it and use it correctly.  I concentrated on the crumpled bill.  It shook, floated into the air, and glided across the room into my open palm.  I almost screamed.

“Good.”  She praised.  “Now, send it back to the hallway and keep it in the air.”

I did as I was told.  “Point at it,” she directed, “and imagine a beam of light connecting your finger to the dollar.”

I imagined it and a beam of white light appeared.  I almost screamed again.  “Now,” she ordered, “destroy the dollar.”

I mentally increased the power of the light.  A visible pulse traveled along the beam, struck the floating dollar, and the dollar ceased to be.  I grabbed my right hand with my left and covered it like paper covers rock, like I had to hold the light in.

Preacanto didn’t give me a chance to freak out.  She moved briskly forward with more instruction.  “Practice as much as you can.  Focus on the telekinesis until you learn control.  Control is control.  Get some small objects, stones or candies, and try to keep one in the air all the time.  Once you have that mastered, add more objects, then add objects of different sizes, weights, and densities.  Then add movement.  I’d like to see you with a solar system of objects spinning and swirling and accompanying you everywhere you go.”

She stopped instructing and shifted gears.  “Church, I am going to recommend your power level be tested immediately.  If you are as powerful as I think you are, you just took on a grave responsibility.  I am confident that what I learned about you, about who you are, eliminates the risk of deliberate destruction of lives or property.  That said, I recommend you start trying to understand your emotions and how they impact your actions.”

She paused for a breath and to make sure she had my attention.  She commanded that I meet her eyes with mine.  “Before every action you take, even the very mundane, you must think, ‘how do I feel now and is that affecting what I’m about to do?’  This is very important because very soon, as the use of your magic becomes second nature, if you point at someone in anger, and wish they no longer existed, they will cease to exist.”

“Holy shit.”  I whispered.  The gravity of having magic power, and the type of power that I had, settled on me uncomfortably.  It felt like responsibility, which is something I usually try to avoid.

“Holy shit, indeed.”  Preacanto moved in and patted my head again.  “The fact that you are afraid means you will be careful.  Your power is like any other tool.  Used correctly, it can be a blessing and a force for good.  Used recklessly, it can be a force of destruction and evil.  I don’t think there’s much chance of the latter.”

She waited and I stared at her.  I guessed she was waiting for a response of some kind, but I didn’t quite know what to say.  I’d been taken to a jail cell, had my mind invaded by a short woman in a pants suit, who activated my magic power, and showed me how to use it.  I should have been freaking out.  I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t.  I groped around for something to say that matched the immensity of the moment.  All I came up with was a thank you.  “Thank you, Miss Preacanto.”  I said.

“You’re welcome.”  She turned to leave, paused, and spoke without looking at me.  “Church, I believe you will help.”  She waved over her shoulder and was gone.

An instant later, I felt Shawn’s presence.  An instant later than that, he was sitting next to me.  “How did it go?”  As soon as he sat down, I felt better.  I hadn’t realized how nervous I’d been without Shawn’s presence.  Having him near me felt right.

To answer his question, I repeated my lesson with a liquor store receipt from my wallet.  Shawn was calm as my telekinesis sent the crumpled ball of paper flying into the corridor.  He freaked when I showed him the white magic.  “TWO?”  He leapt from the bed and shouted his disbelief at me.

Ars picked that moment to make his appearance.  “Time to get tested, young man.  Yes, must get tested.  Miss Preacanto has some remarkable things to say about you.  It seems you should be tested immediately if not sooner.  Gather yourself and let us go.  One more floor down and we will get you tested.”