—
Four hundred and thirty feet away, in the tiny windowless office of the building security manager, Theo screamed in synch with Zack. His scattered thoughts came together in a unified roar, a thousand voices all wailing in grief, insisting that there were no futures left with Mia Farisi in them.
He clutched his hair, throwing his elbows left and right.
“No! No! No! No!”
It was at that cruelest of moments that a final gear snapped into place inside him. His eyes rolled back, his skin glowed white, and his consciousness took him to a strange new place.
At long last, Theo Maranan was formally introduced to his weirdness.
THIRTY-THREE
Everything stopped.
The ambient hum of the building generators fell silent. The light on the desk phone froze in mid-blink. A fat bead of water halted its drop from a sweaty ceiling pipe. It hung in the air like a miniature planet.
All over the office, all across creation, time held its breath and waited for Theo.
The bewildered augur kept as still as his surroundings as he fought to absorb this latest insanity. What little color the room had was gone. A thin gray mist blanketed the floor and walls. He saw twinkling specks of light through the fog, like distant cities.
Vague time passed—a second, a minute, an hour—before he dared to move. He writhed in his thoughts and suddenly found himself sling-shot to the other side of the office. Dumbstruck, he turned around and reeled at the haggard young Asian in his former place. The man sat huddled behind the desk in a frozen cry of grief, wearing Theo’s face and clothes, his karma tattoo. It took five rounds of furious debate for him to accept that he was somehow looking at himself. What? How is this . . . ?
The mist on the eastern wall suddenly darkened and swirled like thunderclouds. A tall, reedy figure emerged from the depths, trailing smoky black wisps as he moved.
Azral Pelletier shined a cordial grin at the empty space where Theo’s consciousness lingered.
“Welcome, child.”
He looked majestically dapper in his stone-colored business suit and tieless white oxford. His flawless skin was now as colorless as his surroundings but his eyes remained a vibrant blue. The good cheer on his face did little to quell Theo’s panic.
“Ease yourself,” said Azral. “Your mind is still adjusting to the transition. Soon your senses will compensate and give you form.”
Though his lips moved when he talked, Azral’s cold honey voice hit Theo like a second set of thoughts. He struggled to reply, unsure if his words were spoken or merely imagined.
What happened to me? Am I dead?
Azral smirked. “On the contrary. You’re more alive and awake than ever before.”
Awake was one of the last words Theo would use to describe himself at the moment.
You’re in my head.
“Yes.”
His mind flashed back to the results of the cerebral scan that Melissa had shared with him.
You put something in my brain. Some tiny metal ring.
“A harmless device,” Azral assured him. “It merely allows us to communicate in this state, little more.”
His “little more” struck Theo like a salesman’s asterisk. He felt a nervous lurch where his stomach used to be. “And where exactly . . .”
Theo balked at the new echo in his voice. Now he looked down to see a hazy facsimile of his body.
Azral nodded approvingly. “Already you adapt.”
Theo was surprised to find himself in his faded Stanford hoodie, his old khaki shorts and sandals. It was his favorite outfit, one that had comforted him through many drunken travels.
“What’s happening to me?”
“You’re an augur, Theo. Did you think you’d spend the rest of your life suffering random glimpses? No. You’re generations ahead of your peers, the so-called prophets of this age. Their talent is a crude cudgel. Yours is a violin. This is where the futures sing at your bow, my friend. This is your true gift.”
A thunderous shudder filled Theo. By the time it passed, he appeared as whole as Azral. He could feel the ground beneath his feet again, a simulation of life and breath inside him. The sensation was even more pleasurable than waking life. He felt wonderful now. Except . . .
“Mia. I saw her. She was shot in the chest. Did that really happen? Has it happened already?”
“It has occurred,” Azral calmly replied. “She fades from life at this moment.”
“No . . .”
“We can address the matter later. For now—”
“I have to find her!”
“Boy, look around you. What do you see?”
Theo took another wide-eyed glance around the office. The fat water droplet still dangled in the air. The clock on the wall remained rooted at 11:56 and 48 seconds, with no signs of letting go.
“So it’s not just here,” Theo said. “Time stopped everywhere.”