Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

with a thump, bringing him out of his thoughts. He had already completed two projects in his mind and was eager to implement them. As the door slid open, he looked at the receiving bay. Humid air filled his lungs, refreshing after the stale, canned air of the capsule that was poorly filtered. He could feel the energy around him throb in time with the crash of the nearby waves.

Leaving the large warehouse structure, he stepped out to a nearby railing. White foam surged as the sea pounded violently on the rocks. He breathed in the briny air and smiled. A quick check of his internal clock showed the time was later than he had expected. His handiwork should be manifesting very soon.

He massaged his neck as he remembered Gus’s grip on it. Despite the angst of the moment, he had been able to keep his head on his shoulders, quite literally. Dimensional folding was an intricate process, especially when one could not breathe. But, as always, he had done it. He had worked his way in and unwound the next level of folding, breaking the fine threads that kept space contorted into the complex fractal folds.

Mengele could imagine the two split ends fizzling away like tiny fuses. When they reached a critical tipping point, Gus would literally explode if he had not managed to unlock the third iteration. And even if he did, the process would start over again until he was totally unzipped.

No matter how unique the upstart was, leveling to 100 in such a short time frame was virtually impossible. Life was good. And it was only going to get better. He just wished he could record the expression on Gus’ face when it occurred.

Gus settled into a chair and practiced meditating again. The others were combing through data and cheering as they found various hits. He smiled to himself and began. Green was the sphere of the day as he fell into his routine, yet like the others he could not pull any of it in.

It was progressively becoming more natural to activate the ability. He had settled into the cyclical routine when he noticed some distortion. He tried to ignore it, not wanting to fall out of concentration, but the static became more distinct, though still transparent. In like manner, the white noise around the distortion clarified before buzzing back into static. Bit by bit, the interference faded.

Gus saw the back of a man who was hunched over, surveying something that he couldn’t see. The lanky man stretched to his full height, muttered something, and paced for a couple of steps before massaging his chin and turning back to whatever he was inspecting. This went on for some time. Gus noticed more about the individual as he saw him in profile. He had an aquiline nose and there were tiny pince-nez glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

He turned about face during his pondering and was startled to see Gus staring back at him.

“Oh, this is unexpected. Our paths were not supposed to cross for…” He peeked over his shoulder. “At least another three moves. Bravo. You look quite different, I must say, since I last saw you. How are you liking superpowers? Everything you bargained for?”

He paused for the briefest of seconds, then went on distractedly as if Gus had replied. “It never is. But that would mean…” He turned and looked at what Gus could now see was some kind of table with multiple tabletop miniatures on it, reminding him of role-playing campaigns with his friends. He slid some pieces around, looking up to the left and right, confirming something to himself before turning back to Gus.

“The probabilities were low, but they are never zero! No matter how unlikely. This is the part of the game I like best. You know, it took me quite some time to arrange all the pieces just so, and then you had to be naughty and move one when I wasn’t looking. That’s cheating, young man.” He waggled a finger in Gus’ direction. “It won’t do at all. Now I have to shift some resources to finish placing the other pieces. One always thinks they have time,” he rambled to himself, shaking his head.

He turned and gave Gus the same searching look he must have been giving the figurines earlier, eyes appearing large in the round glasses. Grabbing one elbow, he cupped his chin with the other hand. “Well, my boy, are you ready to play?”

“I’m done playing everyone’s games.” He tried to make his voice menacing, but it came out barely a squeak.

The skinny man tittered. “It’s funny you should say that. I’ll bet you are looking for dear old mother, are you not?” He looked up at a screen only he could see. “Everything is functioning as it should, so I see my colleague kept his promise and kept her alive—for a change. I keep telling him not every turn is a gambit for knowledge. But he just gets more pieces, since he sacrifices so many. So gauche. But where was I? Ah yes, the game! What you think you have recovered is merely a husk, a vessel unfilled. If you want to see your mother hale and whole again, you will have to play. There is no other way, unfortunately.”

“What are you going on about?” Gus demanded, but like before, his voice sounded like he had sucked in a gulp of helium.

“Can I tell you a little secret? I have been waiting a long time to see how this campaign ends up. Generations of stacking and building, and now I’m almost ready to tip that first domino and watch the whole Rube Goldberg machine take off. Can I tell you another? You will play, whether you want to or not. The contestants always do. Now go, and don’t come back until I am ready for you!” He spun on his heels with an effete sniff, and the vision crumbled into a