Intrepid (10 page)

The book was large and clunky, but it always calmed me to spend time with it. I flipped to the Origin Story. It was always my favorite because it explained the birth of the Multiverse. Whenever I was scared or nervous, I returned to these passages for comfort, and at the moment, with the Change looming in front of me, I was terrified.
 

I read the first paragraph out loud, and let my own voice still the havoc in my heart. “
Everything has a beginning and everything has an end. In our beginning, there was the Nothing: which has no metaphors or analogies to describe it accurately. Within this Nothing, the universe of Origin, Gaia, was conceived during the Big Whisper, and with the birth of Gaia came the birth of Energy.”
 

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if Gaia had never diverged into a second universe. I wondered what a life without the reality of a Multiverse would feel like. Would I have grown up in some tiny boring town leading a miniature existence compared to the one I lived now? What would I be worrying about instead of the Change? What kind of kid would I have been back on the Gaia-verse, unable to do anything special, like travel between parallel worlds? It was an imaginary life that horrified me, because there was nothing worse than living a life that was less than extraordinary.
 

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Nobu said from the doorway. “You okay?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure what my answer was to that question. I felt far from okay, and my head was swimming in a kind of pain I’d never experienced before.
 

Nobu walked in and peeked at the page I had open as he sat down next to me on the couch. “Ah, the Origin Story. Remember when Corbin explained the Splice?”
 

Nobu was trying to distract me, like when you stub your toe and it’s all you can think of until you bang your shin on the table. I didn’t know if talking would distract me from the pain, but I gave it a shot. “He said the Multiverse was alive, splitting and replicating like cells in the body. And like cells, each Splice makes two identical copies that continued on their own paths. They have the same Origin, but different futures.”

Nobu grinned, and added. “This is why every universe only parallels to a certain extent, because they grow into something that is entirely unique.”
 

I remembered the old man with his wrinkled hands drawing a circle on the screen projected on the wall. He tapped it, and it replicated so many times the wall was overcrowded. Then, he said with his rusty voice, “This is how the Multiverse experiences growth. It’s as alive as you or me, and just like all living organisms, it is adaptable and instinctual. The only interest it has is survival and self-preservation. It’s the same for humans. We know we will eventually die, but it does not mean we welcome death. It is in our nature to fight it to the bitter end.” Thinking of Corbin filled me with a sense of missing. He wasn’t always around, but he was the only other family I’d known besides Nobu.
 

I looked at the margins of the book and saw the corner where I’d drawn circle after circle layered on top of each other. The pencil markings were smeared with a few years of aging, but the idea was still the same. We lived in an overcrowding Multiverse, and because of this, it was dying. The Origin Story was the one that terrified me the most because it made me recognize our ultimate approach to the end.
 

“Keep reading it,” Nobu suggested, and I ran my finger under the words as I read:
 

“After the Origin of Energy, rather than remain concentrated in the Nothing, it spread out to begin the process of life. In this, the Multiverse sacrificed concentrated power for existence. The initial, chaotic burst expanded into the first universe, and once it began, chaos could not stop.
 

“The chaos of Energy is within you, it is within me, and it is within everything.
 

“It is what propels the Multiverse to expand.
 

“However, everything has its limits, including the Multiverse.
 

“Unintentionally, the Multiverse became a bottle containing a set amount of Energy. This Energy could only readjust into new shapes within the confines of its set parameters, so it became a truth that Energy could be neither Created nor Destroyed. Instead, Energy became interchangeable fuel for the readjustment of matter. The more the Multiverse Splices, the more it readjusts the amount of Energy available for each, individual universe. The Multiverse attempts to expand in infinite ways using a finite source of Energy.”
 

I pulled in a gasp of air as a wave of pain collided between my ears. There was a feeling scraping across my irises like a million caterpillars crawling back and forth across them, and I could feel every infinite mile within their tiny feet as they traversed the terrain of my eyes. Nobu took the book from my hands and let me put my hands over my eyes. I rubbed them raw and tried not to cry. I wasn’t exactly a crier, but I felt a good solid sob coming on. I pulled at my earlobes, then held my own hands, pinching my skin to distract me from the tears I wanted to let out.
 

Nobu tried to let me keep my dignity, so rather than look at me, he read from the book:
 

“Yet what does this mean for the survival of the Multiverse? It cannot stop Splicing, because that would be like stopping a child from growing past the age of two while letting its mind continue to grow in knowledge. It is an impossibility to trap maturity in a body that cannot handle it. But every time a universe Splices, it isolates Energy into a new container, diluting the power of the Multiverse the more it spreads, forcing Energy to settle into Stagnation.

“This Stagnation of Energy is the death of movement, and the death of movement will be the death of us all.”

He closed the book with a gentle thud and sighed. “Kind of morbid for today, don’t you think?”Another invisible fist squeezed my brain between its fingers, and I let out a small yelp. Nobu’s fingers laced into mine, and he tethered me to his calm presence. “You’re doing great, Liam.”
 

I gulped back the choking saliva gathering at the back of my throat, and I submitted my sight to the blackness found behind closed lids. But it felt too claustrophobic, and I finally had to open my eyes to the soft lamplight flooding the walls. There was Energy surging through my veins and blooming in my irises. Nobu never told me about the way the eyes would burst, but then again, the Change was hard to talk about. Even Nobu had trouble describing it.
 

Though it was a pain I’d anticipated my entire life, I could never have prepared for how incapacitating it would be. I felt the Knowing activate in my bursting heart, and I suddenly contained feelings beyond instinct. Every fiber of my being wavered between fire and ice. With my free hand, I fiddled with the Planck Activation Bracelet on my wrist. The silver was smooth and soothing, and I couldn’t remember a time that it hadn’t been on my body. The fidgeting gave the Energy a place to go, and I took a deep breath.
 

 
“Your headaches are about twenty minutes apart. I’m going to activate the Jump,” Nobu said. I tried to ignore the fear that floated to the surface of his expression. What reason did he have to be afraid? The Change was a natural part of life.
 

My mouth, which seconds before had felt so overwhelmed with saliva, had suddenly become a dry desert that made the roof of my mouth feel the shape of every tastebud on my tongue.
 

 
“You ready?” he asked as he pulled up the screen from my Planck Activation Bracelet.
 

I was. I’d been ready for a long, long time.
 

Texi

The Energy Convention of 1763

We now know that Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. We now know that Energy simply changes form.
 

I can’t help but wonder what this means for us. If we trace back the evolution of humans and pay attention to just how far we’ve come, what does that mean for our children? Before our eyes, humanity has changed form in subtle ways, yet we refuse to acknowledge it. What does it mean to be human, and how will this definition change as we humans do?
 

In this unwavering belief in definition, we must remain cautious.
 

Aye. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.

But humanity does not live under the same amnesty as Energy. Humanity most definitely was created, and it most definitely can be destroyed.
 

-Dr. Alberta Einsteino
 

 
-S-1, V-1
 

Chapter Fourteen
 

I’d never felt embarrassment like that before last night. Iago had to help me out of the bathroom, because I was shaky on my feet. The way all the eyes stared at us equated to the feeling of plaque furring up the teeth when you first wake up and run your tongue along them. I knew what it all looked like—like I was drunk and making out with Iago in the girls’ bathroom. The idea that anyone would consider Iago as anything more than an obnoxious brother figure in my life would have been funny under other circumstances. But it didn’t matter how far away from the truth it was. People believed in what their eyes told them a little too much without using their heads.
 

I tried to get Iago to leave the restroom first, but he wouldn’t. “I’m not leaving you here like this. You can barely walk. I’m taking you home,” he’d said, and by the time we left the restroom, the rumor mill had started churning as violently as my gut. The fact that Iago never made it out to claim his Homecoming King crown only added to the whispers as we tried to sneak out.
 

Iago drove me home in his beat-up pickup, and I pulled my knees up into the seat so I could hug them to my chest. “This was not how I pictured my night going,” I said, shivering as the heater got warmed up.
 

“So you really
did
want me to get you a dance with Gunner Proctor?” He thrummed his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat of his laughter. He didn’t bring up my voodoo eyes or the headaches. It was like he just
got
it and knew I didn’t want to talk about it.
 

I snorted and watched the barbed-wire fences whiz past us in the headlights.
 

“How long do you think it’ll take for the entire school to start calling me your boyfriend?”
 

“It’s not funny, Iago.” I rolled my eyes and plucked at a piece of tulle that was unraveling at the hem of the dress. I felt the buzzing of my phone in the pocket of my jacket, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at the messages.
 

“One day, you’ll see that what they say means absolutely nothing,” he said.
 

“I’m sure. But for now, it’s gonna suck.”
 

He laughed. “Yup. For now, it’s gonna suck. But really, we should only feel sorry for me. I have a reputation to hold with the ladies. Now I’ll never have a shot with Crystal Castle.”
 

“
Riiiiight
. You’re a real lady killer,” I said as Iago pulled up my to my house. When I got out of his truck, he stayed in the driveway with the headlights pointed towards my door to make sure I got in okay, and when I shut it behind me, I heard the growl of his engine as he left.
 

I bee-lined to the restroom, and when I opened the medicine cabinet, I avoided looking in the mirror. I just couldn’t face the swirling in my eyes as much as I couldn’t face the swirling in my head. I choked down some Excedrin as if they were Tic-Tacs. I contemplated taking more, but the last thing I needed after a night like I’d had was to be in
The Geronimo Picayune
next week under the headline:
Local Teen Overdoses on Over-the-Counter Pain Meds.

“Ringo!” I called out, but he was nowhere to be found. He must have still been out getting drinks with Garza. I was thankful to have the house to myself for a couple more hours. I needed to think. Were these headaches worth going to the doctor for? Was there something wrong with my brain? I’d seen movies where people had tumors or brain parasites that caused them to hallucinate. After all, Iago never really reacted to my eyes being swirly. Maybe the eyes didn’t happen after all?
 

But a tumor or brain abnormality?
 

I hated that
that
was the only solution that made sense.
 

A thirst ripped through me, and I went into the kitchen to get some juice. There was a buzzing of light when I flipped on the switch, and when I opened the fridge I saw a note tacked up with a goofy, frog-drinking-tequila magnet Ringo had gotten on a trip to Mexico. I closed the fridge and pulled the note down when I recognized Ringo’s scribble-scrawled handwriting.
 

Tex,

 
I know you’re confused, and knowing you, you’re going to be pissed. I’m sorry that you have to go through all this without me, but I have other duties now. I did the best I could. I hoped I taught you to love before you hate, to understand before you believe, to breathe before you speak, and to think before you act.
 

Trust S.O. He will help.
 

You may not understand this just yet, but you must be Intrepid, for you Stand on the Shoulders of Giants.

Love you more than Ramen Noodles,

Ringo

I stared at the words until one letter bled into the next, but none of them made sense. When I was younger, we used to try to outdo each other. Love you more than pickled flavored snow-cones. Love you more than rusty nails. Love you more than baby pandas. What I didn’t love was this ambiguous letter. What did he mean by going ‘through all this without me’? What did he think I was going through, and where did he think he’d be when I did? Sure, sometimes Ringo would go camping for a weekend or crash on Garza’s couch after blowing off some steam at the bar, but my father was always there for the big stuff. He was good about things like parent-teacher conferences and teaching me how to fish.