Lines of thread

Light snoring prevented Nepal from ever reaching sleep. So, he laid there listening to the rhythmic inhale of Cheshin's nap. After a while, Nepal's mind began to wander. He thought about the hospital and how all those people had died. The feeling of icy insects biting him still haunted him. Of how Cheshin showed up from out of nowhere, and then they went to nowhere. Or somewhere that had silver cords. Only, that was more like a dream. Wasn't it? These things had his head spinning again, but Nepal resisted putting it aside. He wanted to think about this.

A longer snore pulled Nepal back into the room and back to thinking about Cheshin. When he concentrated, and sometimes not even then, he could see silver threads, which appeared to overlay everyone. Cheshin had more of those threads, he noticed. He pulled his hand up to his face and looked for the silver. To his surprise the threads were there. Many of the intertwined. On closer inspection, it was apparent that the threads formed a pattern. They lead from one to another, looped and twined, sometimes coming back in upon themselves. Some threads, branched out and away from him, but then looped around to rejoin the other threads.

Nepal decided to try the painting trick he had learned from working with Cheshin. Taking a thread and painting it into a different pattern, Nepal felt cold air blow right through him, skin tingled, and mild disorientation. He knew at once that the closer threads affected him differently than the ones further away. Only some of those threads were not his. They were the things surrounding him. “This is so weird,” he thought aloud.

One loud snore startled Nepal. Cheshin sat up and asked, “hey, you up?”

Nepal smiled, “yes, I am. Couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither,” Cheshin agreed.

“Oh, yeah. So, you always snore for long periods of waking?”

“Was I asleep?”

Nepal nodded.

“Sorry.”

“No problem.”

Cheshin looked around, sleep still fresh on his puffed face. “I thought I heard you say something, or was I just dreaming?”

“I was practicing what you had showed me earlier.”

“I thought you'd be tired,” Cheshin said.

“I was, but I think I need to know more about what's happened to me.”

“Too hot?” Cheshin looked down at the blankets.

“Just moving objects with my mind.”

Cheshin's expression changed to amazement. “Moving objects? I never showed you how to do that.”

Nepal was curious about the reaction and proud of himself for amazing someone like Cheshin. “It's those silver threads I see everywhere.”

“Silver threads? When did you start seeing those?” Cheshin asked.

“Just after we first met. When you took us to the void with all the cords.” Nepal could help but mention it him.

Chesin asked slowly. “You see the threads?”

“Yes.” Nepal answered. Psychic's of Cheshin's caliber shouldn't be shocked at that. Should they?

“I'm the only one that has ever seen the threads, that I knew of. I've always seen a faint silver in things, but I never put much stock in them. We all thought it was part of Dr. Oragwain's experiments, because each of us were given a different set of genes.”

“Given different genes? What, like a test tube baby?” Nepal asked, but when he heard it sounded like ridicule. “Ah, I didn't mean it like that. I mean you were genetically modified?”

Cheshin didn't appear to take offense, “I was in the first few batches. Dru and Kefen came before me. The 'one mind' has always been the hardest part of being an Oragwain, but Dru says it helps keep us safe. We're pretty much not human like everyone else.” Cheshin got quiet.

“Something wrong?” Nepal asked.

“No, it's just that you are not human either. More so than me. I think you need to talk to Jueqel.” Cheshin closed his eyes and said, “he's up. I'll tell him you want to talk.”

“Wait,” Nepal said quickly. “Can I try that? Telepathy?”

Cheshin was apprehensive, “are you sure?”

“I feel strong enough,” he answered.

“Jueqel isn't a real telepath. He's good at sending a message and getting them, but it's awkward for him, and more like impressions. You have to be careful not to send too much at once,” Cheshin sounded protective.

“If you don't think I should try, then I won't.”

“No, no. You should try. I just think that you should try with me.”

“O.K.,” Nepal agreed. He didn't wait for Cheshin to instruct him. Nepal's mind reached out for Cheshin's, and allowed an open link to form between them. It was getting easier.

Nepal paid careful attention to Cheshin's mental communiation. The threads in his minds eye formed a picture of Jueqel, an outline mostly. Words and images that represented a concept leaped out from Cheshin to Jueqel's outline. It was brief, but strong.

The link broke away and Nepal said, “wow.”

Cheshin gasped for air, “wow, is right.”

Alarmed, Nepal waited for Cheshin to explain.

“I could see the silver more clearly this time,” Cheshin said. “They leaped out of me like lines of thread with messages attached.” His eyes closed again, and he said, “Jueqel's on his way.”