David stood up and walked along the paved pathways of the park, toward the place from which the deep thoughts about the galaxy and the workings of pure intelligence were emanating. As he studied the girl's thoughts, which were getting clearer in his mind with every step he took, it was quite clear to him that his person, this female, had at least some of the answers for which he was searching.
As he rounded a small clump of trees, he saw a small group of people walking that included a creepy thin man, a tall black man, and her - the girl that was projecting these wonderful thoughts into the immaterial medium that conveyed them across David's consciousness.
David also heard a new pair of voices appear - silent, of course - but just as audible as any aural tympanic vibrations had ever been. Two men, approaching from the south. One also black and tall, the other shorter, much older, and frail. Angry thoughts, and fears of the unknown and the unseen.
*****
"I saw T-Bone over by those tall trees over there," said Will to Tony, gesturing behind him. "Let's go," Tony had replied, climbing out of the car and shutting the door. About five paces away, he pressed a small button on his keychain, and the car's doors locked, the headlamps flashed once, and the alarm chirped simultaneously.
While Will was distracted a few minutes earlier by the fool geocaching guy, Tony had been thinking. The more he reflected, the more he wondered what possible force or turn of events had managed to drag him all the way to Reno, enduring the AM radio-induced headache, the odd odors that obligingly attended Will, and the poor food. Tony was now getting mad - mad at T-Bone for whatever he was involved in, mad at Will for... just being Will, and mad at himself for driving all this way, and for what? Nothing. They were just wasting time, following some stupid chubby Boy Scout around doing who knows what.
Will's announcement snapped him out of it, however, and now Tony was all business. He wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery and help T-Bone out, if possible. He didn't know for sure if T-Bone was really in trouble or not, but he was convinced he was, and that was good enough for him.
T-Bone had been there for Tony a few years earlier when he really needed it, and it was time to repay the favor, whether T-Bone came right out and asked for help or not. They had been friends in high school, and one day with Tony didn't show up after school in their usual spot, T-Bone went looking for him. What he found was a group of five older thugs beating the living tar out of Tony with chains behind the auto shop building, and had T-Bone not loudly attracted a lot of attention to what was happening, Tony may have not lived past that day. As it was, the thugs split and ran, disappearing past the small gathering crowds, and T-Bone had carried his bloody and battered unconscious friend up the hill to the school nurse all by himself, and when the police arrived, it was T-Bone who positively identified the assailants, despite a little self-preserving voice inside of him gravely warning him about speaking out against his newly-made enemies.
Tony was ready for anything - he made sure of that - as testified by the concealed black 9 mm Glock tucked into his pants behind his back. It not only gave him an empowering, if not inflated, sense of invulnerablity but also a healthy testosterone rush. Tony didn't know what to expect, but if things got ugly, he'd certainly cause some terrible retribution for anyone that tried to threaten his only true friend in this world. As for Will, it was he could hold his own, despite his diminished physique. Will had once told him that he didn't fight to impress, he fought to win - nothing else mattered. And he meant it. One night a few months back as they were walking back from the corner mart, two idiot younger guys that Tony didn't recognize tried to rough them up a bit, and Tony ended up having to pull Will off of the one. Will had blinded the guy by jabbing this thumb into his eye socket, and had pulled a ballpoint pen out of his back pocket was about to jab it into the kid's throat when Tony intervened. After Will calmed down and the kids had fled, he admitted he couldn't control himself. It was like he was auto-pilot search and destroy or something. His Vietnam War-honed instincts took over and all he could see was the enemy. The adrenaline then took over and blinded him - the threat must be deftly eliminated. There was no other option.
For hours after that incident, Will had freaked Tony out, muttering and acting all crazy, shaking and talking to himself and perhaps some other unseen persons from his past - Tony couldn't tell. He would sweat and curse, look around wild-eyed, then just sit hunched over and mutter under his breath. Tony guessed this guy had seen some awful things in his time, but Will never talked about it - any of it.
As the two of them now walked side-by-side from the parking lot and across a grassy field, then past a giddy wedding entourage having photos taken in a flower garden (had Tony not been so focused, he would have surely noticed how hot a couple of the bridesmaids were in their shoulderless peach dresses), and toward a small building on the other side of the street, Will again spotted T-Bone and his unlikely companions. A second later, Tony also caught sight of them as they rounded the corner. T-Bone was walking and talking with a short, not unattractive white girl, and a gaunt man dressed in black. He certainly didn't appear to be in any mortal danger, but appearances could be deceiving, Tony knew. Perhaps T-Bone wasn't
in any danger at all, but rather in a financial bind. He had come looking for the money Tony owed him, after all - yeah, maybe that was it. Who, then, was this cat - a loan shark? A broker? A pimp?
Surprisingly, it was Will who expressed it, "Let's hang back and see what goes down." Tony's thoughts exactly, as he leaned against the wall, struck a match, and lit up a cigarette.
*****
David walked toward the odd threesome slowly. His mind was so preoccupied, however, with the inner polyphony that he inadvertantly bumped into not just a few people, spawning three sideways glances, two bitter frowns, and one stare of pure disdain.
While thus being led more by this new-found inner sight than by his corporeal vision, David observed that each person in the park was radiating invisible vibrations, like soundwaves or nearly imperceptable motion tremors. While none were exactly identical, and indeed each could be compared to various "colours" in a sense, there were basically only two or three major groupings that shared various similarities. One group, a "happy", light yellow-seeming type of vibration was light and airy, quickly bouncing off of other individuals, and spawning additional energy as though it were infectious. It seemed that this type of energy begat more energy spontaneously and perpetually, and that the whole of the interaction was more than the mere sum of the individuals parts. It was it's own spark - self-generating, and
alive. Another group, however, seemed in the allegorical color spectrum to reside in the darker, more muted opposite tones; deep purple, heavier, and slower - perhaps thicker. In contrast, these latter seemed to diminish or absorb and conceal the total energy in the air, having a dampning effect, retarding any livliness around it.
David thought to himself that this was all very familiar. Perhaps this was something that he had known or experienced previously all throughout his life, but had never before been able to see or quantify. It seemed to him that energy begets more energy, in a symbiotic fashion, a catalyst unto itself, whilst a lack of energy seems to be self-perpetuating. How true, David thought, that this principle was no longer just a philosophical hypothesis (at least to him), mere tabloid fodder and messageboard malarkey, but a real, quantifiable and tangible particulate synergy.
It was in the midst of these musings and sheer fascination with this exciting new discovery that David's natural eyes caught sight of something that momentarily disrupted his trains of thought: his car. The last time he had seen it was the night that he had driven those two guys downtown to the Super 9 motel and then the store. The only thing he remembered after that was waking up in the hospital and being told that he was hit over the head and had landed in a coma. Surely, this was providence. The chance to take back what was rightfully his and to confront his aggressors. But was this the reason he had been drawn here? Or was it the girl?
*****
The Drone, for all his stoic silence and reserved cynicism, was actually enjoying this little wait of their's. His perceptions quickened, he could sense the thoughts and feelings and moods of his fellow pedestrians to a level or degree above normal, and though he normally shut out the lowly din of prosaic human chatter, he was actually relishing this heightened awareness. The recent visit of the enigmatic watcher Tanagua and his apparent effect on Tedford and Krystal was an aberrant development, to be sure, but the Drone was not one to leave a mystery unsolved. The Drone was ever-present of the ticking clock that marked the last few hours of his companions' lives, and was now oddly perturbed that now having found and captured his prey that this assignment - his last assignment, to be sure - would soon be over. Never before had the Drone encountered someone who had successfully left the Hive and elluded them so successfully, and for so long. Never before had he encountered his prey having been enlightened by the overseers in such a way. These two were special, and that's what made this assignment different. The Drone surmised that he was at a crossroads. His path would continue on the prescribed route and culminate at the foreseen end, but there was a ever-so-remote chance, it seemed, that some anomaly could intervene and switch his direction - his fate.
These thoughts, singular to the Drone, had surfaced before, but it is these type of thoughts, he knew, that must be cordoned off from the shared collective mind. The Queen has no use for individuals, only loyal worker Drones who perform with exactitude.
Much of the 'conversation' that was occuring as they strode along was not oral, but telepathic. The Drone had always been able to discern their thoughts, Tedford knew, but it seemed that being in this place, and communing with the emissary Tanagua had opened up his mind and Krystal's to enable this higher form of communication. The Drone was aware of this recent development, Tedford also knew, and a completely voiceless debate finally ensued.
Tedford and the Drone searched each others' thoughts, and the similarities in their minds were alarming, they both realized. The Drone wasn't so different than Tedford, and vice versa, although T-Bone hated to admit it. Both men as Drones had harbored a sliver of resentment of the Order of the Hive, for the rigorous (and painful) initiation trials and induction ceremonies. Both men, now, were amazed at the Hive-like abilities that were being exhibited not only by Tedford but also by Krystal - without induction - that it frankly worried them both. While Tedford had admittedly forgotten some of the lessons and skills gained in his previous engagement, it was quickly coming back to him, and he knew the responsibilies associated with such power. Krystal, however - an outsider - had received at least one of these abilities - telepathy - without any intervention on the part of the Order. This could only mean one thing: she was a loose cannon; someone that could potentially exercise and wield these extraordinary abilities with no sense of responsibility, no induction, no training, no schooling. They both sensed that this worried the Hive. And, yes, the Hive was aware.
*****
David opened the passenger side door of his vacant, unlocked car. There were a few candy bar wrappers on the floor mat, and the pair of yellow underwear in the backseat that he remembered buying a week before. Who had stolen his car? Was it those two guys - what were their names? Or had they sold the car to someone else for money?
*****
Krystal had been notably silent while Tedford and the Drone had probed each other's thoughts. She, for her part, had been contemplating the extent of the galaxies and systems that she had glimpsed under Tanagua's brief tutelage. She, too, however, was becoming increasingly aware of her fledgling gift to hear and discern the thoughts and moods of other people. She was becoming aware of the hidden sentiments and subtle conveyances of the people in her immediate area - to the point that she now got the feeling that someone not too far away was seeking her out. At first she understood this to mean that either the Drone or her Teddy Bear was keeping tabs on her, but the
signature didn't match either one of them. This was someone completely new, and he - for it was a male - was approaching steadily.
David caught the gaze of the girl named Krystal. She looked at him, searching, for a confirmation that this was the person she sensed. It came in the form of a salutation. "My name is David," the silent voice had said. She thought back, "I'm Krystal. Are you searching me out?" "Yes," thought David, "I seek answers." Krystal smiled inwardly, "Answers I have."
*****
Will and Tony trailed from a safe distance as a fourth person joined the oddly matched group as they moved at a snail's pace down the sidewalk. A boy - early 20s, Tony guessed. Was he a friend of the girl's? Her brother, perhaps? Boyfriend? How was it that T-Bone knew these people? And why weren't they talking?
*****
Within seconds, David recounted his story to Krystal, and she, hers to him. The events of the past week, her run-in with the Drone (not 3 feet away from him), the poisoning incident at the Cal-Neva, and her interview with Tanagua. Images flashed across each other's mindscape, the scenes replaying quickly along with the emotions, sounds, and understandings that accompanied each memory. She helped bring clarity and understanding to his coma out-of-body experience by visually tying the suit in his recollection to the suit that Tanagua wore with her. David's mind opened even more, and things began to fall into place, answers replacing questions, understanding replacing doubts.
*****
The Drone had been aware of this boy, David, for some time now, but he wasn't sure when exactly had been the first moment he had noticed him, but that was irrelevant. The boy was here now, and he was also similarly endowed with Hive-like telepathy, but the Hive did not control him.
Tedford explained in an instant that he was only able to detach himself from the Hive upon finding a small tear in the fabric, those strings that loosely bind all workers together. There was a place that seemed to be devoid of the vibrations of a Hive string, where the controlling influence of the Queen did not resonate. It was here in Reno, and it why Tedford had chosen to come back here to hide. He did not know, obviously that this particular park was one in the matrices of nexuses - in fact, he had never been to this side of town before, but there was another section of town where he had found the hole, the tear, and had slipped though.
Tedford had simply thought that the Hive was unaware of the fault, but quickly learned that they knew of the flaw, and also of his disappearence. The Hive, in fact, was not only aware of the tear in the Hive wire, but also that the powers of the Order were seeping out and affecting regular persons. Many others, in fact, the Drone and Tedford both suddenly realized, including that young couple sitting over there on the bench.
