Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

A thin dribble of spittle leaked out the corner of his mouth. Mengele resumed his work as if Gus was not present.

“It is precisely these types of situations where breakthroughs come from. When something deviates from expectations. It shows an error in the traditional logic. It challenges things I have assumed I understood. If I didn’t know better, I would think the subject had managed to control more than just the Nun, but that can’t be it. There must be another explanation. I doubt a neophyte could have mastered Ba control, when it has taken me over a decade to refine the process. Still, there is something there.” Mengele paced as he tried to work through his reasoning, looking up as he thought, as if the answers were written on the white tile ceilings and harsh examination lights.

“If some substances can sever the connection of Nth to the Ka, it would stand to reason that something is left after the Ba is removed, otherwise the body would perish. A component of Akh? Can this also be separated? Hmm, yes, I will need to see if this can be accomplished without causing death, or if this aspect could be suffused to another, creating immortality?”

Gus tried to focus on what Mengele was rambling about, but it was difficult to follow without any context. He turned his attention to the ember that was smoldering within. He urged it to burn brighter, as if it could somehow do something to help him. He was divided. Most of him wanted to give up, to let himself crack and just cease to be. But the ember twinkled there in his core. Sparkling with promises of what could be. Of how it would burn in revenge. And though he could detect no outward signs, he knew without any popup that his True Sight had just confirmed that the ember was not wrong.

As the pain began, Gus focused on the ember. Focusing his entire attention on it, and it expanded to fill his whole vision. As if it were expanding or he was shrinking to nothing. It burned brighter and brighter, from orange to yellow, then blazing white. It encompassed his whole vision and then he felt his virtual eyelids close when he could take the brilliance no longer.

While it burned hot, it felt good. On the edge of pain like a searing jacuzzi or going outside for the first sunny day after a drawn out, rainy spring. He opened himself up to it and pushed his pain outward toward the sun-like ember, and felt it connect like a magnetic anchor.

He pushed pain out through the thin filament. Breathing in and then pushing out. Rhythmic. Inhale. Hold. Exhale and push. He leaned back and inhaled deeply, his head tilting back on the metal operating table. Was that blood he was smelling? It wasn’t coppery though, this smelled almost like the sea. It was something different, among the constant suffering that was Gus’ life now and his mind seized upon it like a rabid dog.

Each deep inhale filled his lungs with briny air. He could almost imagine the oranges and reds of a setting sun from his relaxing spot on the island a lifetime ago. Was that the wind? He leaned into a warm breeze as it caressed his face, ruffling his hair.

This is it, Gus. You’re finally cracking. Your psyche is splitting or whatever happens after prolonged psychic strain, he told himself. He welcomed the change. He was lost either way and this just felt… good. That wasn’t entirely accurate; it was another feeling. Gus let the sensations take hold of him and he could feel more and more as he allowed the memories to come to him. The soft cushion of his putty knee pad on the hard rock. The hypnotizing slosh as the waves undulated in and out in time with his deep breaths. The screech of gulls as they flew by overhead.

Though his eyes were closed, he could see the scene as if it was coming into focus. The palms and coconut trees came into focus, and their gentle whispering *shush* as their fronds were tickled in the wind. Gus saw a crab scuttling across the sand, which drew his eyes back up to the vivid sunset. He sat there captivated as the warmth of the sun’s last rays melted away the despair he had accepted as his new reality.

The sun hid partially behind a strip of clouds that hovered parallel with the horizon. Gus stared at the clouds as they moved slowly in response to the wind. He let his imagination run on autopilot as the clouds tumbled over one another. At one point he thought they almost resolved into words. Gus looked away, letting his mind wander as he surveyed the other side of the beach.

The pale yellows and oranges flickered to deep reds and drew Gus’ attention back to the sunset. The clouds were definitely resolving into words.

I’m finally losing it. But what the hell. Whatcha got for me, clouds?

It looked like they said ‘wirehair’ at one point, but the clouds kept moving, spinning and turning.

Just my imagination.

He almost turned away again when the clouds stabilized along sharp lines instead of their puffy, indefinite curves. Reading the message, Gus took a quick intake of breath.

We Are Here.

The message stayed long enough for him to realize that this was no trick of the light, though he was still unconvinced that it wasn’t all just a hallucination. Maybe even a dream. Sleeping would be acceptable, because the surge rebound of his Leech power feedback would kill him and then he could rest at last.

The clouds dispersed again as the colors deepened to darker shades. More words resolved, and Gus stared at them until the sun set. This time the clouds did not disperse. They held their message as if they were made of stone.

You Are Not Alone.

Chapter Seventy-Three

Golden Sunset

As he stared at the message, Gus wondered who could be sending