Gemini [WIP]

Chapter VI

Water spread out to the short horizon, dappled light occasionally dazzling xer when the sun caught it right. The edgeless pool on the roof of the residence building xe was staying in was quiet today, and Rowan had it to xerself. Xe bobbed gently in the center, enjoying the way the water felt on xer freshly buzzed hair, keeping xer eyes just over the surface of the water and looking out over the cityscape in the distance. Across another, larger expanse of water, xe could see the graceful spires of Central's main administrative district, the pulsing heart of civilization. Tallest among them was an elongated pyramidal building with shoulders. No one xe knew had been inside there, even virtually. The building was a bit of an enigma - it was called Millennium Tower, but in old pictures of San Francisco it was shorter than some of the newer buildings. Now it was far and away the tallest, even compared to the towers you could match in those old photos. Had those old buildings shrunk? Rowan was resolving to go get xer mobile off the lounger and look it up when xe was startled by someone politely coughing behind xer.

Gasping, xe whirled around in the water and instinctively covered xer chest. A tall, blocky person stood in front of the sun, casting their features into a dark silhouette. Rowan had to blink a few times before xe recognized the suit and conservative haircut.

"Oh, Commissioner! You startled me!" Rowan rose to attention from the comfortable underwater crouch xe'd been in and joined xer hands behind xer back. "I didn't expect to see you here. What can I do for you?" Indeed, xe hadn't expected to see anyone here, as xe'd called in a favor with a friend and reserved the pool for the day. Standing up now, the breeze blowing across xer bare chest caused xer to shiver a little.

The commissioner smiled, if a bit awkwardly. He seemed to be looking studiously at a point about a foot over xer head.

"For a start, you can put this on." He threw xer a folded towel that he'd been holding behind his back.

Catching it, Rowan shrugged and wrapped it around xer shoulders. The terrycloth was warm and smelled like chlorine. The commissioner seemed to relax a bit once xe settled into it.

"Can we talk for a few minutes?" He gestured to one of the tables on the periphery of the roof deck, began walking towards it. Rowan sloshed to the stairs and stepped out, xer shorts dripping onto the hot concrete. Xe lifted the towel over xer head and began drying xer hair off.

Having taken a seat, the commissioner looked at the stainless steel bracelet on his wrist and tapped it, bringing up his mobile's holographic interface. "Care for a drink?" he called, before looking over his shoulder and, coloring, quickly looking back.

"A beer would be fantastic in this heat," Rowan replied. "Anything's fine."

"Agreed." The Commissioner tapped at the interface and, finishing, let his hands fall back to his lap as Rowan came over and took the chair opposite him. Xe could smell a delicate air of sandalwood and something earthy about him that xe couldn't identify as xe passed. "I know I gave you the rest of the tenday to think things over, but I hadn't heard from you and I wanted to reach out, see what way you were leaning. I know this is a big ask. Central can be ...intimidating, as well, I know, so I thought it might be nice to come meet in person. I hope I'm not intruding on your meditations. Ah, perfect timing."

A service drone hauling a small cooler announced its approach by the whine of its motors and came over the railing.

"Right here, thank you," the Commissioner said, gesturing towards the center of the table. The drone wobbled down and put the cooler down with a small thunk, then, freed of its burden, flew up and dove back down over the side of the building again. He opened the cooler and took out a pair of glasses and two frosted cans of beer. "I hope you like IPAs, they're on a revival lately." He pushed a can and glass to Rowan and began carefully filling his own. "By the way," he said after taking a sip, "My name is Grant. You don't have to call me Commissioner."
"Oh, uh, well thanks, Grant. You can call me Rowan, but you knew that." Eschewing the glass, xe cracked the can and slurped up the foam noisily. Xe had hoped he would pick something fruity, but this was tolerable. "I have been thinking about it. I took the train down to Ellay and sat on the beach there for a few days, but I couldn't focus so I came back up here." Another noisy drink. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Frankly, I'd be upset if you weren't. Please, go on."

"I'm torn. On the one hand, as a CRO I have a duty to protect Central, my home, the people I care for, and I think this ...mission is an extension of that. I want to fulfill it; I want to be of service. And I know there's kids out there suffering in these cults, having to hide their identities, being forced into marriages, having backwards ideologies shoved down their throats, just like I was." Xe paused to take a long draw and the can was much lighter when xe put it down.

Grant leaned forward in his seat and clasped his hands on the table, brow furrowed with concern. "I can empathize. I actually grew up LDS - Mormon, to most. I think you and I are alike in that we both find ourselves in the roles we are because of our past. We both saw the damage these hateful ideologies can do and want to do something about it. What's your hang up? Maybe I can help you see your way through it."

"I just - it's..." Rowan slumped back, frowning. "There's a lot of stuff buried in there. Painful stuff. Do you know I don't remember my mother's face? That sounds bad, but it's really a gift. I don't feel any sense of loss for someone I can't remember. What if this procedure unlocks all that, and I start dreaming about her? What if I remember things I don't want to?"

Grant furrowed his brow thoughtfully and didn't say anything for a minute. "I don't honestly have a good answer for you, Rowan. Actually, let me re-phrase. There's no easy answer. What I can tell you is that, throughout history, civilizations have asked their defenders to make sacrifices. Sacrifices of comfort, of family, of their bodies, even of their lives. While we've moved beyond conscription - I can't force you to do this - I am appealing to your sense of duty. Patriotism, if I can invoke what's become a dirty word." Grant stood, drained the rest of his beer, and put the empty can back in the cooler. "I don't want to take up any more of your time today, but I hope to see you in my office next decad. Enjoy the rest of these." Grant straightened his shirt and tie and left the deck as soundlessly as he'd appeared.

Rowan, sighing, reached for another beer.

...

The therapy room wasn't what xe'd expected. The word therapy invoked images of comfortable couches, scented candles, a soft-spoken woman with a sympathetic ear in Rowan's mind. This room, sterile white tiles, spotlights, and a central large chair, bristling with implements and hanging from a gimballed arm attached to the ceiling, was decidedly not comforting. The straps on xer arms and legs holding xer into the chair weren't helping either. Despite the antiseptic chill in the air, xe was sweating.

As the technician slid an IV into xer arm, Rowan's barely-restrained doubts began to surface again. Xe looked up to the tech nervously.

"Uh, this isn't really what I had anticipated, I thought maybe it would be like hypnosis or something."

The technician, thankfully, had kind eyes, as most of their face was covered with a surgical mask and cap. "Oh, didn't they explain this to you?"

"Not really, no."

"Well," the tech said, taping down the IV and adjusting the tube running somewhere behind Rowan's field of vision, "sealing off traumatic memories is one thing, un-sealing them is a bit more... involved of a process. Think of it like a door you've locked and thrown away the key to. Locking it? Simple. Unlocking it without the key, though, might take a torch or a battering ram, explosives even, depending on how well it's locked up." The tech looked down at Rowan's face, which was rapidly draining of color. "Ok, bad choice of words. I just mean we need to use powerful tools to reopen what we've locked away. Don't worry, we've done this a lot. It's almost routine now."

"You do this a lot? Why?"

The tech looked sympathetic and tilted their head. "I'd get into a lot of trouble if I told you that. Medical privacy, you know? Look, just relax and this will be over before you know it." They moved behind the chair and began flipping switches and making adjustments on the equipment. Holographic screens came to life in the air around Rowan, filling with graphs and numbers. Some of them, like xer EKG and blood pressure, were obvious enough in their purpose, but other windows showed strange symbols and convoluted graphs in a combinations that made xer eyes hurt.

"Ok, I'm going to start the drip, just take a deep breath."

Rowan closed xer eyes and softened xer shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position. There was a quiet whine and the chair began to recline. Xe felt a cool sensation in xer left arm where the IV was, and tasted something vaguely medical in xer mouth. Subliminally at first, whirling colors and geometric patterns appeared behind xer eyelids.

"Hey, I am, ah, seeing stuff, is that right?"

"Yep, that'll be the psychedelics. Don't worry, it's all been carefully dosed out specifically for you. All according to plan, just flow with it."

The technician's words past "Don't worry" were lost to Rowan as xer world dissolved into glorious, glittering fractals and xer sense of self, of embodiment, vanished. Xer mind danced through a seething web of light, each intersection seeming to beckon xer attention, drawing it in with the promise of revealing some deep and mystical truth. Xe had the deep, unquestionable sense of knowing that this was the true shape of the world, that it was always just behind the curtain, and all one had to do was turn in the right way to see it. It was so obvious, was xe the first one to feel like this? Why was there strife when this bliss was always over our shoulder?

Rushing through the psychic landscape as a disembodied point of light, Rowan saw that in the distance, all points converged at the peak of an immeasurably massive dome. Xe let xerself be drawn towards it, rushing headlong into the impossibly complex web, the convergence blooming into a massive eye, the gaze of which promised deep fundamental knowledge of the world, the end of plurality, true communing with the Monad, unbearable clarity into -

Rowan found xerself sitting in the camper she'd grown up in, holding a Bible, tracing the words with finger as she read aloud.

"And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation."

She looked up expectantly, proud of her new reading skills, and found the smiling gaze of her mother. A kind, if plain face, though prematurely etched with stress. Small crinkles in the corner of her eyes as she smiled at her daughter.

[to be continued]