Super Powereds: Year 3 (26 page)

BOOK: Super Powereds: Year 3
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Eventually, even worry proved no match for biology, and the small woman fell into blissful slumber. She lay like that, within her own dream, for the majority of the night, until somewhere in the hour of four in the morning.

That was when Jill, turning over in her sleep, stuck out a hand that landed on Mary’s forearm.

 

45.

 

The mental worlds Mary had seen thus far were organized, detailed settings so realistic that it was easy to mistake them for the reality. However, those had all been ones constructed or accessed through Rich’s ability. A mind not under the influence of such a power was messier, more chaotic, and far less bound by any convention of making sense.

Unlike her first time, Mary immediately understood that she was no longer in her own mind. Moments ago, she’d been having a dream about a daffodil that was also a hunting lodge in the Alps, and then, without warning, she was standing in a carnival. Along with the scenery change, her level of lucidity rose sharply. It seemed the act of leaving her mind gave her self-awareness not present during the usual REM cycle. She looked around, noticing the way the colors in the sky were shifting between blacks and greens, and the way the edges of the rides and tents were muddled, like painted images someone had smeared along the lines.

“I want to make a ‘not in Kansas’ joke, but even by myself that feels cliché,” Mary muttered. “At least now I know I can dream-walk without Rich.” Carefully, she began walking along the cobblestone-and-dirt path under her feet. That isn’t to say the two elements were both present, merely that sometimes, it was one, and sometimes, it was the other. Looking down and seeing the transition made her stomach queasy, so Mary instead kept her eyes level to take in the various sights.

She had to admit, this wasn’t what she’d expected from Alice’s dreams. There were various people milling about—some as patrons of the events, and others working as carnies. The rides were bright and colorful, the scent of fried food hung thick in the air. After all the horror movies Nick had made them watch, Mary kept expecting something sinister to leap out, but it seemed this dream presented the happy side of a carnival. Maybe Alice had good memories of one?

“What the what-fuck?”

Mary recognized the voice, but immediately knew it wasn’t her dormmate. Pivoting on her heel, she spun around to come face to face with Jill. The Super with dirty blonde hair was wearing a green dress that looked like it had come from the eighteen hundreds, all lace and poofs and fancy trim.

“Jill?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Real me, too. Like not a dream version. It’s weird; a few minutes ago, it was like I suddenly became aware of how weird this all was. I woke up without waking up.”

Mary nodded. “That happened when I entered someone’s mind unexpectedly before. I think the only reason it didn’t happen with Vince is that he was already partially aware of the real world in his dream.”

“Neat, so you’re a cheat code for lucid dreaming. You could make money doing that,” Jill commented. “Let’s see how well this works.” She closed her eyes, and her brow furrowed. Moments later, she was wearing a tank-top and shorts, topped off by a pair of flip-flops. “Thank the gods; that dress was chafing like a mofo.”

“Interesting,” Mary said, making note of this ability. It hadn’t been there in her previous journeys. Nick had been able to call upon the defenses in his mind, but he had never shown the power to simply alter the world at will. Perhaps that was because the other times were all playing in one of Rich’s worlds, and here, Jill was the creator.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re in my head,” Jill said, shifting her attention now that comfort was established. “Did you finish with Alice and decide to lay on me?”

“No. As far as I know, I’m still bound to her,” Mary replied. “I guess we have to assume that, somehow or another, you and I made physical contact during the night.”

“It’s possible, I do tend to toss and turn when I sleep,” Jill admitted. “Oh well, this still counts as a win, doesn’t it? I mean, you can use your power without Rich.”

“It seems that way,” Mary agreed. “The next step is to see how far it can take me. Or, us.”

“What does that mean?”

“In the state Rich induced, I was able to move through the person’s mind, and I freed them up to do the same. Memories could be revisited, portions of their personality spoken with; effectively, it allowed me access to the deeper recesses of their consciousness.”

“I’m not sure how comfortable with that I am,” Jill said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“There’s a chance it’s not even possible like this,” Mary said. “But I’d like to at least see. Why don’t you come with me? If we encounter a place or memory you don’t want me to see, you can just lead me away. No questions asked.”

A tall man pushing a cotton candy cart rolled up alongside them. Jill snagged a bag of the stuff, but when she opened it up, it was instead a bag of popcorn. Mary took a bag too, though she held her own down at her side.

“I guess I can work with that,” Jill said. “The whole point of this was to help you, after all. I just didn’t realize how in depth your ability went.”

“You have my word, I’ll respect your boundaries,” Mary promised. “I just want to see if it’s possible.”

“Okay, but only on one other condition,” Jill stipulated.

“Name it.”

“We wait a couple of minutes to start. Since this is a lucid dream and all, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

“Fine by me,” Mary agreed.

Jill nodded, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused once again. A golden necklace appeared around her neck, one Mary dimly recognized as the prop from an old sci-fi television show. As soon as it had formed, Jill began rising into the air. Her eyes popped open, and a small squeal of joy escaped her lips.

“Just a few trips around the Ferris-wheel,” she called, then she was off, soaring through the air with the kind of speed and control that even Alice would have complimented.

As the dreamer rocketed through the air, Mary turned her own attention to the bag of cotton candy still clutched in her hand. She loathed the stuff, it was all fluff and no substance, but she hadn’t grabbed it because she was hungry. Mary closed her eyes the way she’d seen Jill do, pushing a mental image out into the world around her. When they reopened, she was still clutching a see-through cellophane bag.

Only now, it was filled with caramel corn.

 

46.

 

Getting out of the carnival proved to be simpler than Mary had expected. During her flights, Jill noticed that the edges all faded away into darkness once one got beyond the fairground, but the road leading out of the entrance appeared to go somewhere. Though Mary was curious about what would be waiting if she wandered out beyond the fairground and into the dark abyss, prudence, and respect for her guide, kept her in tow as Jill walked out the front gate. For a while, it seemed like nothing would happen; they merely kept trudging along the dirt path, lit by some unseen source, walking forward with no real goal. Then, suddenly, there was no more path, and they’d arrived.

If not for her experience in Rich’s induced hallucinations, Mary might not have recognized where they were. Seeing her own mental home-base made real, as well as Nick’s, gave her enough knowledge to immediately figure out they’d arrived in the core of Jill’s subconscious.

It was a gigantic area, all steel and chrome, computer screens adorning every wall and a myriad of robots darting about to complete various tasks. Some were cleaning, some were taking other robots apart, and some were building new robots. The area was so large, Mary couldn’t see the end of it, but she did notice many different doors, placed at irregular intervals, scattered along the walls.

“Carnival dream simulation: Ended.” The voice was Jill’s, but it sounded as though someone had recorded her voice and run it through a synthesizer. Both girls turned around, coming face to face with a gigantic monitor that had a green, pixelated version of Jill’s head staring back at them.

“Sweet fucking shit,” Jill muttered, eyes unwavering from Mecha-Jill.

“I, uh, wow,” Mary added. “That’s a new one.”

“New simulation?” Mecha-Jill queried.

“No, not right now,” Jill replied, finally turning her attention back to Mary. “What the hell is this? Another dream?”

“I’d guess it’s the hub of your subconscious,” Mary said. “The ones I’ve seen are constructed to be places where a person feels safe and at home.”

“One flaw with that: I’ve never seen this place in my life,” Jill pointed out.

“I’ve only seen two besides this one,” Mary admitted. “But this does still sort of fit. Your power is controlling technology. Why wouldn’t your safe place be a world with nothing else?”

“Logical theory,” Jill admitted. “And, to be honest, as weird as this place is, I do feel strangely at home here.” She turned her face back to the computer screen and raised her voice. “Computer, where am I currently?”

“Location: In the living room of your new residence. Status: Asleep,” Mecha-Jill responded immediately. As she spoke, her face flickered away, and an image appeared on the screen, one of the living room ceiling. Voices could be heard speaking softly, ones that were familiar to both women in the room. “Last recorded file during consciousness.”

“Neat,” Jill said, clearly intrigued by the computer’s functionality. “Not helpful, but neat.”

“Maybe try asking what this place is?” Mary suggested.

Before Jill could repeat the question, Mecha-Jill began to answer.

“The mind does not have physical locations. It is an ever-shifting miasma of thought. What you currently perceive is a construct put together so that you may experience this existence in terms compatible with the conscious mind.”

“Oh, God damn it, my subconscious talks like my brother,” Jill complained.

“No clue why that is?” Mary probed. “Maybe, deep down, you think like him, or wish you did?”

“Ha, yeah right. Why in the world would I want to be more like Will?” Jill had turned to Mary to ask this question, so she didn’t notice the screen flicker into another video. This one was of a woman who looked strikingly similar to Jill, skulking around a medium-sized living room as she clutched something in her hand. The video would wobble occasionally, which, sometime later, Mary would realize was because Jill had been shaking when this was happening. As soon as sound began coming through the unseen speakers, Jill’s eyes grew wide, and she whipped her head around to the screen.

“Where are you, you little shit? Get out here now.” The woman’s voice was low, but harsh, a fierce whisper that sent a chill down Mary’s back. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Jill yelled at the computer.

“Answering your last question,” Mecha-Jill’s voice responded.

The video on the screen moved around slightly. Mary could make out the wooden sides and outline of a door, as well as small, tucked-in legs. Evidently, Memory-Jill was hiding somewhere, watching the woman’s movements while trying to stay out of sight.

“Stop it!” Jill yelled.

“Request is queued. Will be processed after current request is completed,” Mecha-Jill responded.

“If you don’t get out here soon, I’m going to get the big board,” the woman called from on screen. Memory-Jill let out a soft whimper. It was, unfortunately, not soft enough, as it drew the woman’s attention. Seeing her turn, Mary realized the object in her hand was a wooden board with some sort of cloth wrapped most of the way around it. The woman lurched forward, whipping the door away and revealing Memory-Jill’s hiding spot. The smile that spread across her face made Mary’s stomach churn. No good was coming from that kind of smile.

“No queue, I want you to do the stopping thing now!” Jill’s voice was moving toward a fierce shriek, more panicked than Mary had ever heard her.

“Do you wish to move secondary request to the top of the priority system?” Mecha-Jill asked.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the woman snarled. Before she could utter another word, a silver line of wide material wrapped around her neck, choking her violently and jerking her back.

“One of you is,” came a young male voice, somewhere out of the video’s sights.

“Yes, reprioritize. Now!”

“Request reprioritized. Memory stopped.” At Mecha-Jill’s words, the video vanished and her pixelated head reappeared.

Jill collapsed against a console of blinking lights. Only now did Mary notice the tears streaming down her friend’s face. She contemplated saying something; however, it seemed silence was the most prudent move until she knew how Jill was feeling. Neither said anything for several minutes, and when Jill spoke again, it was with a husky tone, as though she had screamed herself hoarse.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand,” Mary said.

“No, you don’t. See, I don’t want to talk about it, but now I have to. At least, a little bit. I need you to tell me that you’ll never let anyone else know what you just saw.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know what I saw,” Mary said.

“Yes, you do. You saw my, our, mother. She wasn’t well. She’d go on these fits . . . it doesn’t matter. You also saw Will save me. What he did that night, it would have disqualified him from the HCP if it had come out. Hell, it probably would have landed him in juvie. Using your powers against humans is a big no-no.”

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