CHAPTER EIGHT (MEETING OF THE MINDS)
Heart racing. His eyes meticulously taking in everything around him while in a state of
utter confusion. Where am I? This is not my home. Who are these people around me? Where’s
my family? Whose clothes am I wearing? His thoughts raced from one question to another
without any answers.
The heavy door closed with a whoosh, twelve individual air pistons locked it securely in
place. It was done. Caspian was processed, no longer a member of the outside world, but an
inhabitant of the National Facility for Divinus Life Research. Gone were his parents, his
possessions, even his clothing. He now wore slippers, loose-fitting trousers, and a smock-like
shirt, all of them gray and laser etched with the insignia of the Facility. The logo was like a
highly stylized Celtic cross, made up of looping and interwoven lines reminiscent of a four-way
highway interchange, imprinted upon a Maltese cross, green surrounded by gold, with an ivory
and metal circle between the four arms of the cross.
Caspian let out a deep breath to calm himself. He’d survive, he’d escape and get back to
his family, but to do it, he had to stay calm and keep his wits about him. And first, he needed to
get to know his surroundings. If nothing else, he knew that much.
In front of him stretched a long corridor, the floors and walls gray and polished, reflecting
the harsh LED lights projecting from the ceiling. Guards dressed uniforms that looked like black
doctors’ scrubs patrolled the corridor in pairs. Two were walking his way now, a man and a
woman, escorting a younger man not much older than Caspian.
The young man wore the same gray uniform Caspian did and was clearly a patient, or a
prisoner, or whatever it was they were called in here. The guards carried clear acrylic clubs in
their hands, probably tasers of some sort, Caspian figured. He was in no hurry to find out.
“Welcome to the Facility,” the young man said in a monotone voice, as he came to a stop
before Caspian. “I am Rudd, your orientation mentor. This way, please.”
His orientation mentor? Really? Rudd didn’t look the type to be in charge. He was bean
pole thin and about five foot seven in height, but looked like the type who was likely to shoot up
well past six feet. On his head was an explosion of ginger hair that only a weed-whacker could
keep under control, and his blue eyes were so pale they looked like chips of ice.
The guards and Rudd turned back the way they had come, and Caspian walked dutifully
after them.
“You are expected to act civilly at all times,” Rudd told him. “If you run in the corridors,
if you are disruptive. If you assault the other subjects, either physically or verbally, then the
orderlies will incapacitate you and put you in solitary.”
Sure, right, Caspian thought. I’m a subject, not a prisoner, and the ones with clubs are
orderlies, not guards. That’s what they want everyone to think, at least. The letter had said he’d
been accepted as to a school, and “trained” sounded more like boot-camp. But the actual facility
seemed more like a prison.
“You will be provided three square meals each day,” Rudd continued. “Unfortunately you
were processed late and have already missed the evening meal. You will have to wait until
morning for the next meal. Come morning, you will eat in the commons, then attend your
required quondam life sessions. After the noon meal in the commons, you will participate in the
exercise regimen laid out for you. Every night after dinner you are to return to your room for a
headcount before doors lock for the night. This is for your protection from not only any spirits
that may enter the facility, but also from any patients who could mean you harm. Medication will
be administered to you at this time. Resisting or causing a scene will result in your
incapacitation. Your room door will reopen promptly at 8 am. At that time, you are free to roam
the designated areas. Restricted areas are marked and locked so that no accidental wandering
occurs. Are all these rules, clear?”
“Yes,” Caspian said, trying to listen and keep track of where they were going at the same
time. They had turned left down the second hallway, and were now turning down another
hallway to the right where a sealed door barred their way. The woman orderly placed her right
hand on a wall scanner and stared into a retinal scanner. After the briefest of pauses, the door
opened with a beep and a hiss.
Great, Caspian thought. Both fingerprint and retinal scanners were used to get out of
there. Escaping was not going to be easy.
The door closed behind them and sealed again when they had passed through.
“This is the dormitory wing,” Rudd said. “I will take you to your room and leave you for
the night.”
A person could leave a dorm whenever they wanted, but Rudd had said Caspian would be
locked in his room all night after dinner. The dorm was more like a cell block.
Carbon fiber doors lined the walls to either side of them. They were no more than five
feet from each other, meaning the rooms behind them were tiny. The walls in this part of
building were different, too. They seemed to be fabricated from two layers; a wire mesh overlaid
some sort of gray insulation material. It was the wire mesh that caught Caspian’s attention. It
wasn’t woven in simple squares like you’d see on a screen or a fence. Instead, it formed intricate
patterns, a recurring sequence of four symbols. A tessellation, he realized, repeated in all
directions, from floor to ceiling.
They came to a stop in front of one of the doors, and Caspian ran a finger over the surface
of the designs on the wall while the woman orderly again scanned her fingerprints and retina.
Rudd saw what Caspian was doing. “Ward knots,” he said simply.
“Ward knots?”
“To protect us from spirits.”
Caspian frowned. “I thought the whole point of this place was to study our past life
spirits.”
“We each only have one spirit, and we have nothing to fear from it unless we mean
ourselves harm,” Rudd said. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t other types of spirits and entities
that do mean us harm, though. The knots protect us, particularly when we are new and just
learning to open our minds to our past lives.” Rudd put one hand on Caspian’s shoulder, not
unkindly. “By the way, it’s a shame you didn’t come here voluntarily. Involuntary subjects are
noted and given fewer opportunities to move about freely than the rest of us. You will come to
learn. For now, that is all. Good night.”
With that, the orderlies nudged Caspian into his room and slammed the door behind him.
A single LED lamp in the center of the ceiling lit the room dimly. The corners, in
particular, were shrouded in shadow. There wasn’t much to the place: a single bed with a thin
mattress and gray linens, a molded plastic toilet in the corner, and a sink next to it similar in
design. Apparently porcelain was too dangerous for subjects in the Facility. The only other
object in the room was a foam mat, rolled up in the corner at the foot of the bed. For meditating,
I suppose, or yoga, or whatever it is they teach in this place.
Caspian scanned the walls. No mesh or ward knots in here. Too easy to unwind if you
were trying to escape or wanted to make a weapon. Instead, the walls were formed from carbon
fiber panels, the same materials as the door. As for the door, there was only a mirror at eye level,
probably a two-way mirror so people outside could see in. Beyond that, there was nothing. No
retinal scanner, no wall scanner, nothing. It looked very escape-proof. Once you were inside, you
weren’t getting out until someone let you out.
The ceiling had a ventilation grill, but unfortunately, it was a good nine feet off the
ground. Even if Caspian jumped up that high, there was nothing to grab on to hold himself up
while he tried to pry the grill free. That left only the floor. There was a toilet and a sink, and if
there was plumbing, there was probably a floor drain, too.
He was right. There was a floor drain, against the wall between the toilet and sink.
Caspian got down on his hands and knees and tried to get his fingers between the slots in the
grate. It was only four inches in diameter, but if he could pry the grate loose to access the drain
hole below, he’d have a starting point. Maybe he could dig his way out.
The grate wasn’t going anywhere, though. It was stainless steel, and bolted solidly into
the polished concrete floor. With an exasperated sigh, Caspian abandoned the drain and plopped
down on the bed. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really was trapped there. He’d been forcing
himself to not think about his parents, but he knew his father had to be in trouble. He needed to
escape and rescue him, but there was no escaping this place. Not that he could see.
His hand started to shake. He willed it to stop but if anything it shook harder. The other
hand began to shake too. But it wasn't until a tear leaked onto his face that Caspian realized what
was happening. His mother was all alone now, to fend for herself and worry about the fate of her
son and her husband. Caspian’s father was probably in a worse situation than Caspian himself.
Who knew where the police had taken him? Prison? A labor camp? Maybe even slated for
execution?
Would Caspian ever see them again? He didn’t see how.
Tears streamed down his face, and he sobbed a little. “Quit crying, you big baby,” he said
out loud, but acknowledging the fact that he was crying only made it worse. Before he knew it,
he was lying on the bed, cradling his face in the pillow. He'd read about these kinds of emotional
outbreaks, but had never expected himself to have one. He supposed it was only to be expected,
given the circumstances.
He would have cried longer, but the LED on the ceiling went out quite suddenly, casting
the room into darkness. Caspian gasped in surprise and sat upright. After a few moments, he
realized what had happened. Rudd had told him it was late. He’d already missed dinner. Lights
out simply meant everyone was supposed to go to sleep.
Caspian gave a long sigh. He was exhausted, now that he thought about it. After all he’d
been through, it was no surprise.
He kicked his slippers off and tucked himself beneath the thin covers of the bed. The
springs in the mattress poked him in the ribs, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to go to sleep
and forget everything. But the tears began to come back, and he let them.
“Cry yourself to sleep like a little baby…”
The voice came from above him, a disembodied whisper: “You deserved to die.”
“What!?” Caspian sat up, fully alert.
“What you did to those people,” the voice continued. “That’s why you’re here now.
Karma.”
It was a girl’s voice, Caspian realized. It was carrying to him through the vent in the
ceiling. One of his neighbors talking to herself.
“You deserve it, you evil bitch! And you deserve it again.” The voice was rising in a
fever pitch. “We never should have been born!”
“Subject C-9, desist your yelling,” came another voice, an authoritative one through an
intercom somewhere.
“Screw you!” the girl yelled. “None of us should have been born. All of us are evil.
Humans are parasites.”
There was a clicking noise and the room lit up, but not with normal light. The furnishings
and his uniform were lit in eerie purple. Black lights, he realized. So the orderlies can see us in
the dark.
“Subject C-9, prepare to be incapacitated.”
“Screwwwww you, parasites! We all deserve to—”
The girl’s yelling ended in a piercing crackling noise of electricity, and then all was
silent. A moment later the black lights went out and it was dark again.
Caspian laid back down, but his heart was racing. There was no way he was going to
sleep now. Not after hearing that. “I guess it’s okay to cry, just not to scream and cry too loud,”
he whispered to himself.
“Such has always been the plight of human kind,” a man’s voice replied.
Caspian jumped into a crouch. “Who’s there?” He held his left arm up protectively in
front of his face and swiped his right hand out to knock away whoever had snuck into his room.
This voice wasn’t muffled like the girls had been. No way it was coming through the vent on the
ceiling. It was so dark, though, he could see nothing.
“Quiet, you fool,” the man said. “I’m not going to hurt you, but if you keep caterwauling
like that the orderlies certainly will.”
Caspian spun and flailed in the other direction. “Where are you?” he hissed.
“Inside of you, of course. If you’ll just relax, you’ll find I’m coming from within your own
consciousness.”
It was true, Caspian realized. The voice sounded so close because it was coming from
within himself. “Are you one of my past lives?”
“No. It doesn’t work like that, Caspian.”
Caspian laughed nervously. Either he had lost his mind or he was talking to his
reincarnated spirit somehow. “But you have to be me, right? Rudd said the ward knots block
other types of entities.”
“They are meant to, yes,” the voice said, “and they will keep lesser foreign spirits away. I
am neither, however. I’m not you exactly, but I am linked to you and I mean you no harm. Our
fates are tied together, and as such I value you as much as I do myself.”
Caspian didn’t like the sound of that. “Who, or what are you exactly then? Am I
possessed?”
“Listen to me, Caspian. You, like most humans, have a spirit, a soul, if you will. It is the
essence of you, and typically has been reborn numerous times, the most recent incarnation, in
the vessel of flesh. As such, most of mankind is known as the Reincarnated.
“There are, of course, other types of spirits. There are the lost souls, separated from their
bodies: the poltergeists and ghosts. Then there are the Shaitans, evil spirits. Importantly, there
are the Incarnated, an elder spirit that can be good or evil, who attaches to a particular
individual for the very first time. I am such: Incarnated.”
“Wait. So you’re the spirit within me, but you’ve never been reincarnated before into
anyone else? I am your first? This all sounds completely crazy and you totally skipped over any
decisive mention of whether you were one of the good or evil ones.”
“The matter of who I am is another matter entirely. Your language constructs have no
translation for the name I was called in my world. I guess if I were to choose a name, the Greek
name Alexandrous seems fitting. It means, defender or protector, and that is precisely what I am
here to do.”
Perhaps Caspian really was being possessed, or going crazy, but he felt at ease with the
entity speaking to him. He felt somehow as if he’d known it forever, even though it had never
spoken directly to him in this way before. Not that he can remember, at least.
“I’ve waited until now to speak, for reasons of my own. We’ve actually spoken before,
albeit, you were much younger and likely don’t remember. But, my boy, you’ve also heard my
voice in your dreams.”
Caspian’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you just heard my thoughts. Do I need to be talking out
loud for you to hear me?”
The entity chuckled. “Of course not.”
“Right,” Caspian thought. “So why now, then?”
“Because I needed you to be safely away from your father. And I need you to know that
you have a destiny to fulfill, even if it is not obvious to you at this point in time.”
“A destiny? And my father? Why? He would never hurt me.”
“Perhaps not, although he has done so to your own kin before. The bigger danger is not
him, but a Shaitan he has had dealings with and the ripple events those actions have set into
motion. It is the fate of you and I to neutralize these threats before they consume all that is
human about this world. None of that is important right now, though. I’m speaking to you now
because I can’t have you trying to escape. This place is unwholesome, but it will serve our
purposes well enough. For now, anyway.”
“I think you’ve chosen the wrong person. I’m no protector of anyone. Matter of fact, I
can barely protect myself.” Thinking back to all the times he was bullied in grade school. “This
all sounds awfully convenient for you given my current situation,” Caspian told the voice before
continuing. “Why would I even consider trusting a disembodied voice over my own father?
Wait, what do you mean my father hurt my own kin? And what destiny? Why are you telling me
this now?”
“Later,” the voice said. “For now, remain here at the Facility. Take advantage of the
training they provide you. It will allow you to open your mind to me, and then I can fully explain
what is happening, and we can discover together our joined fate. Goodnight, Caspian.
“Wait!” Caspian said out loud, despite himself, but there was no response. The room was
dark and completely silent.