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  “Who did you have in mind?” asked von Ang.

  “For one thing,” said Quan, “we need to find a replacement for Diayu Lee. As for scientists, you should be the one to choose.”

  “Adding more people won’t bring results any quicker,” said von Ang. “Like adding more women doesn’t bring a pregnancy to term any faster, science can’t be rushed.”

  “Many people are interested in what we’ve doing here and the work will benefit from having other points of view.”

  “This is probably the greatest science project on the planet and you went to great trouble to move it to this location to keep it a secret. Why would you open it up to outsiders?”

  “I don’t mean right away. We need to document the findings and publish first. There’ll be plenty of time for you to do your tests. You’ll publish your paper then we’ll decide who to invite.”

  Encouraged, von Ang said, “The new machine far surpasses what we built on Kau Yi Chau; however, I need more time to work with the system and I really don’t need help.”

  “All in good time. Now that the machine is ready, so am I,” said Quan.

  He walked over to the new gimbal mount, removed his outer garments, letting them drop to the floor, revealing a black skinsuit underneath.

  “I’m not taking instruments. I only want to see if there are any changes. Give me five minutes.” He grabbed the handrails, settling himself against the transfer bed.

  “We should do more testing before you—”

  “Please. You’ve already tested with two others. Just do it.”

  Seeing that von Ang was hesitating, Quan stepped away from the gimbal mount and looked at each of them thoughtfully.

  “Listen,” he said. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Something you haven’t seen.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked von Ang.

  “I don’t really need the equipment. Better if I show you,” he said.

  Quan lowered his head, arms at his side. He closed his eyes and concentrated. For a moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, his body became grainy and little by little it faded and became completely transparent. He was gone.

  Lotus broke the silence. “Oh my God.”

  Then, in a rush, he was back—inhaling, looking up at each of their gaping faces. Exhaling a full breath, he smiled his subtle smile, and said, “You see? I don’t need the equipment.”

  McGowen exclaimed, “Mother Mary and Joseph. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Wow!” Lotus blurted.

  Von Ang reached over and felt Quan’s arm. “Not possible. You cannot transfer without the equipment, not without the energy.”

  “I would have thought so, too,” said Quan. “Not possible. But I can do it. It’s a state of mind . . . a skill, and I’ve practiced.” He pointed toward the bed. “The machine is like a trainer. It developed a kind of knowing inside me, like a sixth sense.”

  “Incredible,” said McGowen. “But how?”

  “I don’t know how,” said Quan. “I can only do it for a few minutes. I still need the equipment to sustain it for longer.”

  “It’s certainly outside of anything I can explain,” said von Ang. “How do you feel?”

  “It requires some exertion, but I feel fine,” said Quan.

  Von Ang said, “I’d like to order a brain wave scanner to monitor and see what changes take place when you do this.”

  “I’d be curious to see that, as well,” said Quan. “Go ahead and order one.”

  Looking at each of them, Quan could see they were in awe but troubled at the same time. To them, his ability was confounding and unexplainable. For him it was second nature.

  “I’d like to learn. Can you teach me?” asked Lotus.

  “I can try, but I’m not sure where to begin.”

  “Can you do that again?” asked McGowen.

  “Not right now,” said Quan. “It takes energy. I need to rest a bit.”

  Returning to the gimbal, he addressed von Ang. “Now, if you would, please indulge me and set the timer for five minutes.”

  Von Ang went to the control panel, deeply reflecting on Quan’s demonstration. He set the parameters as if he was in a trance.

  Quan stepped up to the mesh and grabbed the handrails. The sequencer flashed, the bed rotated, and the countdown began.

  The instant Quan was gone, McGowen said, “Stoat, man. He’s able to cross over at will.”

  “It appears so,” said von Ang.

  “Fantastic,” said Lotus. “That’s about as far out from what I know of physics as you can get. How could you just propel yourself into another dimension?”

  “It’s beyond all that I know,” said von Ang.

  The transfer feels somehow cleaner and quicker—like being in a high-performance vehicle. The clouds of particles are seem thicker than he remembers, they blot out everything, like being buried alive in a sandstorm. He dismounts, takes a few steps, and reaches into the swirling particles. Nothing there. He moves into the thick atmosphere and tries to grab a fistful. Nothing.

  “Father,” he shouts.

  Particles in front of him suddenly arrest, held there by some unseen force. Clumps form. A head. Shoulders. A torso. Streams of particles twist and begin to fill in the shape—the manifestation of his father.

  Can’t be him . . . thousands of kilometers from where he disappeared. . . . but . . .

  Purple and green eyes stare at him.

  “What am I looking at? What are you?”

  [A marker in space-time.]

  “Where is my father?”

  The reply comes immediately, inside his mind.

  [Here.]

  “Prove who you are,” demanded Quan.

  [Prove who you are.] The specter repeats.

  Questions are useless. He has no rapport with this . . . this thing. The authentic memories of his father have been eroding since his first encounter with this thing. Memories of a distinguished gentleman are being replaced by memories of this strange incarnation. The relationship and the dialogues they shared . . . memories are being replaced by these bizarre exchanges.

  “How is it possible you’re here, so far from New Hong Kong?”

  [Space is the illusion.]

  “Where are you? Where did you come from?”

  [Everywhere. Nowhere.]

  The likeness takes on an iridescent shift and its features soften.

  Frustrated by the constant riddles, Quan strikes to the heart of what he wants to know.

  “What is your true nature?”

  Particles snap back into position.

  [Infinite consciousness.]

  “Explain.”

  [All is all . . . all things, all places, all times . . . all mind.]

  What does he mean? Life as a primary element? Life as an element that pervades everything—life as a constant—a primordial mind—an infinite consciousness—all part of a primordial mind? The mind of . . . go ahead . . . say it . . . make the leap . . . the mind of God.

  Spontaneously, he blurts out, “I want to know God.”

  [Jump into the abyss—arms and legs waving free.]

  “Show me.”

  Without warning, Quan is assaulted by a fury of particles. His mind is suddenly still. His consciousness is expanding into endless space. Around him is a kaleidoscope of images—eyes looking through eyes, within eyes, within eyes. Infinite manifestation. In front of him are images of his childhood, the dynasty, his sense of duty, his bond with Sealy, the discovery. Images drift away, merging into the vastness.

  Hold on to those memories. Those are my identity. He said arms and legs waving free . . . must I give up my identity in order to know that primordial mind?

  His mind strobes, seeing an enormous array of things. He’s aware of a cosmic sentience . . . an infinite consciousness . . . the mind of a gigantic primordial singularity.

  Quan lies on the transfer bed, eyes wide open, in awe of what he has seen. Von Ang and Lotus and McGowen are there, next to him,
prodding him. Their mouths are moving. He can’t hear them.

  “Father?” he hears himself say.

  “Are you okay?” asks McGowen. His voice sounds as if it’s coming from another room.

  “I’m okay. What are you doing here?”

  “We’ve been here all along, watching you. You’ve been lying there, laughing and crying. We thought you’d lost your mind.”

  “I have no idea . . . maybe . . .” Quan propped himself up on one elbow, still somewhat disconnected. He wiped a tear from under his eye, looked at it, and laughed.

  “A laugh-tear,” he said.

  He stared at them intensely and said in hushed tones, “Now I know what we are.”

  “Sir?” McGowen broke in. “We should check you.”

  Instead Quan lay back again and sighed, realizing how trivial were the concerns of this world. People scurrying around like Alice’s White Rabbit, oblivious of their legacy—ants on a little blue planet hurtling through space where lifetimes pass in milliseconds. So many searching . . . so few finding answers.

  McGowen coaxed him up and walked him to the medi-bot. Once again Quan emerged with no discernible abnormalities except for the elevated alpha waves. Passing von Ang on the way to the elevator, he said, “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

  “Yes,” said von Ang. He looked at Quan carefully, wondering how he knew. “I’ve been working on the research paper and a few days ago I gave it to Lotus for proofreading. By the way, she thoroughly understands what we’re doing. I added her name as a contributor along with your father and yourself. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “And?”

  “It’s complete and I submitted a summary of the paper to the International Journal of Quantum Physics. This morning I received word back from them. They’ve agreed to publish and invited us to present our findings at the next conference, three weeks from now.”

  “Where?”

  “The conference will be held in Paris. We got in just before the deadline.”

  “Great,” said Quan. “Make arrangements for you and me and Lotus.”

  “What about Mr. McGowen?”

  Looking back toward the big man, Quan said, “He should stay and keep an eye on the place.”

  “Right you are,” said McGowen. “Never cared much for France, anyway.”

  35.

  Sealy was in the bathroom at her parent’s house when her com line bipped. The ID was Lotus.

  Not going to answer that, she thought.

  The bipping stopped—a moment later it started again.

  Annoying. She let it continue and it went to voice mail.

  “Hi sis. I know you can hear me. Come on. Pickup.”

  Exasperated, Sealy said, “I’m here.”

  “How are you?”

  “If you really want to know, I’m not great. I’m tired most of the time. I’m moody and my body . . . well, I have this belly, you see . . . it’s big and my breasts are swollen. My clothes don’t fit. I itch. My legs hurt. I have dizzy spells. I have to pee a dozen times a day and I leak. Besides all that, I haven’t heard from Quan. I can’t concentrate on my class work, and I’m about to jump out of my skin. So, how do you think I am?”

  “That sounds grim. What you’re going through is hard and I’m concerned about you. So, I arranged for you to have a treat. I scheduled someone to give you a massage and she should be there in an hour.”

  “Well that’s unexpected. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Just let me know if you need anything? I can come back and help if you want.”

  “I’ve never known you to be concerned about me before. What’s going on there.”

  “You know about the machine they built—the one they moved here?”

  “I know a little about it. Yes,” said Sealy.

  “You know, it can project things into other dimensions.”

  “Quan told me that.”

  “Well, the machine sent me across.”

  “Wait. Tell me you’re making this up.”

  “Not at all. I saw the other dimensions and it was life changing—just amazing.”

  “They’re using you for experiments? Why would you let them to do that?”

  “No, no. I wanted to. It’s safe and I’m fine. I had a full medical afterward and it’s all good.”

  “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been adventurous. And what about Quan? Was he there when you did this?”

  “He was there. He didn’t tell you?”

  “I haven’t heard from him,” said Sealy.

  “So, he hasn’t told you about what he can do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “No one can explain how he does it. He can shift himself into the other dimensions without using the machine. He just closes his eyes and disappears.”

  Sealy was quiet, thinking about the consequences of losing Quan to that other place.

  “He can just will himself right out of this world,” said Lotus. “I saw him do it. He completely disappeared right in front of me.”

  “Something’s not right. Why wouldn’t he tell me? There’s something not right. I can feel it. How is he? Does he seem different?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s in great shape. Nobody else can do what he can do.”

  “You make it sound like it’s a wonderful thing but none of what you’ve told me is normal. Are you sure he’s all right?”

  “Absolutely. His med readings are all good.”

  “This really concerns me. Why he hasn’t told me. It’s a big deal. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  “I’m sure he was going to. Sorry if I spoke out of turn.”

  “I should go there. I want to see what’s going on.”

  “Oh, and there’s more good news. Gaston has been invited to present a research paper at a conference in Paris in a couple of weeks. I helped him write it. Quan will be going, too. You should join us.”

  “Quan should have told me.”

  “He has a lot on his mind right now. I’m sure he…”

  “You don’t need to make excuses for him,” said Sealy, cutting her off. “What are the dates? I’m going to Paris.”

  After the call ended, Sealy’s hormones demanded release and tears came to her eyes. Blotting the rivulets from her cheeks with a handkerchief, she climbed into bed and pulled the soft duvet up over her breasts. Initiating a view field, she compared flights to Paris. They were faster than going to California. That was a relief, and Paris was a destination she was familiar with. She and Quan had been there together a few times. On one of the trips, they attached a heart-shaped lock to a fence along the Seine. Perhaps it was still there. The thought lightened her mood and she booked her flight.

  Quan had been a bad boy but he was still her banlu and it was time they talked.

  “Seal?”

  “I haven’t heard from you. Are you too busy to call?”

  “I’m very sorry,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to but we’re just getting started here and there have been so many things to take care of.”

  “Lotus commed a few minutes ago and told me she’s been participating in the experiments.”

  “Yes. She’s fine.”

  “She also told me that you’re able to make yourself disappear. What in the world is going on? Has she lost her mind? Or have you? You know I expected you to come back soon but you’re still there.”

  “Everything’s all right,” he said. “What she told you is true. Strange as it seems, it’s something I learned to do. It’s a new skill. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Don’t be angry. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Like when? Lotus told me you are going to Paris next.”

  “Sealy, please understand. I need to be away a little while longer. And yes, it’s true we’re going to Paris for a conference. You must be going through a difficult time and I wish I was there to comfort you. Soon, my love, soon.”

  Even as he placated, he knew what her reaction would be and he c
ould hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “I’m concerned about what you’re doing. Lotus has been experimented on and you can make yourself disappear. These are things you should have told me about.”

  “You’re absolutely right. This has become more than just a research project. It’s complicated. I’m sorry I haven’t been more forthcoming, but I will be.”

  “And what about Paris. Weren’t you going to tell me?”

  “It’s a technical conference.”

  “I’ve booked a flight. I’m going to Paris, too. I need to see you.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard since I’ve been here,” said Quan. “I miss you and Paris has always been a special place for us. I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied. I should have been the one to tell you—to arrange it. We’ll be staying at the Le Meurice. The conference itself is going to be boring. You should come after it’s over and we can spend time together.”

  36.

  The intrusion began innocently enough. Quan opened an e-mail from an unknown address. It read, “Beginnings are always awkward. You must be going through a difficult time.” He didn’t think much of it but a day later he got another message from the same anonymous sender. This time the tone was strangely personal. “I hope the best for you and Sealy. My thoughts and prayers are with you.”

  Then the calls began. Com channels rang four times between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. When answered, there was no one on the other end. The same thing happened again the following night.

  Quan installed a route tracer. And the next night, when the calls came, he answered. No one was there however, the route tracer was able to identify the source. Quan tried the number. To his surprise, it answered . . . a recording stating the dining hours of a restaurant in Chicago.

  The next day von Ang changed the com numbers and added a second firewall. Mail accounts were closed and new ones opened. A few days later a different breach occurred. The LÓNG website sent a confirmation: All passwords were blocked, and in the site’s comment section was a new posting: “Quan Jintao Is Our Savior!”