Reality Heist, Geordi Riker [my miracle luna book free read TXT] 📗

a flute and some other wind instrument that plays the alto line. A Gothic teen exits a taxi, a guitar ripping a few cords before my attention focuses on the cabbie's saxophone.

“Arrgh!” I yell, trying to drown it all out. I give up trying to sense out his Pressure. Almost immediately, the orchestra disappears, replaced by the everyday sounds of traffic. My shoulders relax as I rub my forehead. Seeking him out on my own is out.

A bright colour in a window catches the corner of my eye and I turn to study it, my eyes widening as I realize what I can do instead. The poster depicts a man, smiling a nice smile, with brown eyes and dark hair. “Find your Inner Calling” it reads in bold letters along the bottom. I grin. Place to crash, and a good chance that I'll be able to track down the other Sliders with these guys' help.

I duck into the closest alley and start focusing on a good place to show up. Teleporting. Maybe that's my power. Sending my atoms somewhere at the speed of light. When it's from one place to another on Earth, that's really fast.

Shouldn't do the bathroom, even though it might seem like a good idea. There's no telling what I'll encounter in there. And I should be more careful when my molecules reassemble, maybe make myself immaterial for a little bit until I get my bearings. That way, if my ankles are in the ground, I can teleport a little bit higher to free them.

I stand still and close my eyes, deciding on the hallway outside the room where we had supper. I might be seen, but it'll be by the higher-ups only, so it won't be that weird. Less disturbance, the better. I imagine my Motes shooting through the air, carrying me with them, to reassemble me in the hallway.

The sudden silence is my first clue that I've either died or arrived. Slowly, I open my eyes, coming face to face with Tyler. He blinks, stunned. Slowly, he shakes his head as he turns away for a moment, “That shithead.”

“Huh?”

He looks back at me, “You wouldn't believe me if I told you that a couple minute sago, Jake told me to stand right here until something interesting happened, would you?”

“After all the stuff I've been through? Is that a serious question?”

He shrugs, “I'm still not used to this.” His nose wrinkles, “You stink of that Black Pressure stuff.”

I roll my eyes, “Deal with it, the rest of the gang has to.”

“Let me rephrase that: 'Why do you stink like Black Pressure'?”

“Beats me, I thought that I had it under control. Look, I've got a question for ya.”

“Under control? What are you talking about?”

“Didn't I tell you guys about that? When I first started sliding, my Pressure was Black. Now it's different, because I'm controlling the output. Okay, so is it okay if I crash here indefinitely?”

He gins, “You bet, but there's a condition.”

“Name it.”

“You've got to stop popping up in the middle of the center. Yesterday, it tore a hole in our Pressure web. We spent a good two hours this morning fixing it, and Jason's exhausted. He's got the least Pressure of us all, but the thing's got to have three contributors.”

“Sorry about that,” I say sheepishly, while at the same time I want to explode at him, telling him off about how I can't control where I show up. Instead, I keep my peace.

“You've got your bag, I see.”

“Yeah, I tried to ditch it, but some guy calling himself Jinx basically stalked me until I took it back.”

“Jinx? You actually talked to him?”

“Not really,” I lie, still feeling ticked at myself for telling some stranger everything I know. “He told me that most people call him Jinx, but his real name is Damien something-or-other. I don't really remember. The talk was more along the lines of 'why are yo following me?' 'because you left behind your bag.' 'keep it.' 'no, it's yours'. 'If I take it back, will you leave me alone?' than anything else.”

Tyler laughs, “Yeah, he's sounds like an odd one.”

“I teleported into the center, by the way, I don't think your web was damaged, because there was absolutely no resistance.”

“How very reassuring,” he replies sarcastically as he starts walking, “Great to know that resistance, and our web-spinning, is futile.”

“So I can crash here, right?”

Tyler nods, “Yeah, no problem. Anybody else coming?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, do you need to keep the bag with you everywhere you go, or can it be ditched in a room?”

“Have to keep it with me,” I sigh, “Survival kit and all that stuff.”

He nods, “Alright, Jake said that Derek might be here after all, that more than one group of Sliders is running around loose.”

“Really? How does he know that?”

“Says he saw that Middle Eastern guy, uh, Amire or something like that, walking around. There was another guy with him, big and bulky. I'd swear he's an alcoholic, though. Never thought that that was possible.”

I try to hide my disappointment. Jake just saw more from our gang. “Can you guys sense us at all?”

He shrugs, “Not really, but our web sometimes detects when people show up here at the center. Normally, they just have abnormal Pressure. They don't know anything about Sliding.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well, I think I might have run into someone from another group, is all. Problem is, my ability to sense people is nonexistent, so if I did meet one I'd have to try to figure out by talking to them.”

“What makes you think he was another Slider?”

I shrug, “Just the way he was acting as he walked.” I need to get off this topic. My lying skills are crappier than my sensory ones.

“Tyler!” Mikey rushes over to us, his eyes darting around even as he stood facing us, “It's happening right now!”

“Oh shit, I thought I told you to call me when they showed up!” Tyler and the guy take off, headed for the stairs. “Come on, Brandee! You're here anyways!”

“What's going on?” I yell as I take off after them catching up in a second as I use the Motes to carry me faster. I grin as I realize how easily I've been able to move the Motes lately, teleporting, telekinesis. Maybe the lessons I learned in my Inner World are actually sticking with me, and I can finally apply them to the real world.

Mikey and Tyler lean over the banister, watching the entrance. I follow their gaze in time to see reporters and news-cameras barge through the doors. Jason and Jacob are standing on a short platform, facing them, Jason behind a podium that has some papers on it. Other people dressed in matching suits and skirt-suits are positioned behind them on the platform. “What's going on?” I ask again in a normal voice.

“Shh!” Tyler hisses, “You'll see.”

The reporters begin shouting questions, but when Jason raises a hand, they all shut up. “Welcome,” he says into the microphone, “Today, history is about to run it's course. We at Inner Calling stand here before you to show you the future.”

“What the hack is he talking about?” I ask. Tyler waves his hand at me to keep me quiet. I turn my attention back to the pres release.

“As some of you may have heard, recently a member of our center was miraculously healed. She and her family has requested that you let them celebrate this miracle by themselves, and ask that you respect their privacy in this matter.

“I have also called this meeting so that people may better understand how this miracle happened. I suppose I shouldn't call it a miracle, because calling it a miracle implies that such an event cannot be repeated.” At this, a murmur rumbles through the crowd.

“Please allow me to finish. We had thought that we were unprepared to make this Cure, as we call it, public knowledge. But now that it is, we no longer see a need to try to keep it to ourselves. A select few of our most highly ranked members have developed an ability to heal any injury or disease that they may encounter. However, this does not mean that we will be able to heal everyone at once.

“We have opened a foundation, which we hereby call Traveler's Society, in light of what we teach, which is made of members who will be able to heal people in moderation. This foundation is without cost or expectation of any sort of reciprocation or payment in exchange for being healed. Donations are still being accepted with gratitude, but will not influence in anyway the process by which we choose candidates. It has been in the makings for years now, and we now stand before you to tell you that it is now open and running. Those who wish to be healed, there is an application to fill out, describing your condition and nothing more, available on our website. Once you have submitted the application, you will be immediately be placed on the waiting list. Importance will be placed on those with life threatening diseases.

“Any questions can be directed to Jacob Tuinstra,” he gestures his brother, “In regards to the foundation. We hope that it will be able to help us make a brighter future for our children.”

Immediately, the reporters roar into questions. Tyler sighs, “So this is how it ends.”

“Huh?”

He looks at me, “I'm one of those select few who have that ability, remember? So now my days are going to be full of healing and resting up to heal some more. I will no longer be able to travel outside of these walls without an escort- instant miracles are all the rage.”

“I barely get what's going on.”

He shrugs, “Basically, someone told the press that we had managed to bring a kid out of a coma, and healed her broken bones. That was roughly a week ago. Now, it's media circus, reporters have been trying to get in here for days, some even trying to pull off the scam that they converted and want to learn more about their new religion.”

“So you admit that it is a religion?”

“This isn't funny. The fact that the event was leaked plus what we actually did means that we can't just keep it under wraps anymore. For better or worse, Traveler's Society is here to stay.”

“Why is it called that anyways? Is that some sort of reference to us Sliders?”

He nods, still watching the media below, “Yeah. I forget the details, though.” He tips his head to one side, “Aw crap, Jace wants me down there. Shouldn't take long, so you can wait here if you want.”

I shrug, “Actually, I think I'm going to go shopping. I feel like I've been wearing these clothes for years.”

He nods, “Yeah, uh, there's a mall a couple blocks down if you use the south exit.”

“Great. What's the currency here?”

He digs in his pocket to pull out a red bill, “This is a five, you can tell by the little dots in the corner. Anyways, the rest of the cash is sort of like it, the dots in the corner. Derek said that this place is the only one that has that sort of stuff, so it's always easy to figure out what he needs to pay with.”

“Okay, thanks.” He raises a hand over his head in greeting as he rushes down the stairs. Jason turns to welcome him. Mikey and me keep on watching. “Hey,” I say as I remember something. I turn to Mikey, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, probably wont have the answer, though.”

“Last night, when you dropped me off, why'd you call me 'rainbow kid'?”

He shrugs, “Your... Pressure, it made me think of a rainbow, the way it kept on changing colours the longer I looked at it. Extremely distracting when driving, you know. You're like your own little rave party.”

“Cool.” I sigh as I turn my attention back to the media circus, “So you can tell us from the masses, too,