Reality television shows have birthdays on because they can be entertaining. Twenty-One is the age you are truly considered an adult in the United States. The age when you can legally drink and the age when most people have graduated from college, but my 21st birthday was something utterly different.
Waking up to a flashlight being shined in your eyes is a terrible way to avoid headaches. Some woman was shining a light in one eye and a man shining one in the other. McCoy was holding smelling salts in his hand in front of me under my nose.
Swatting his hands away, "That's enough!" swatting away everyone with lights. "Can you please get the fuck out of my face!" my hand was up holding my head which was throbbing with pain. "Aspirin, please," Sounding like I just woke up from a massive hangover.
McCoy snapped his fingers at an agent. They left the room in a hurry. He handed me a bottle of water.
Glass from the mirrors was everywhere in the room, which resembled a condemned building. One of the doors was missing. It looked like a pole and some cameras behind the mirrors had been destroyed. Every wall had a crack in it as if it were prepared to be torn down.
"He really did a number on the room," McCoy chuckled. "Told you this guy was crazy."
"It wasn't him," shaking my head.
"Then," looking him right in the face to answer his question, "No! Really?" he asked in complete disbelief of the answer passing through his brain.
"He was prying into my mind and forced me to do it," I couldn't let John take the fall for this completely.
"That's mind boggling," he sat back in the chair deep in his own thoughts.
"Yeah, well this might sound nuts and I know you've seen me do some strange shit," tapping on his cast, "but, I think he could have made you do the same thing." This was said to see what his reaction would be. He didn't disappoint as his eyes got very large mulling over the new information.
"He has that kind of control over other people's minds?" It was evident the thoughts were blazing through his mind about the possibilities of what John might be capable of.
The agent McCoy sent out came back with some aspirin. Taking three and popping them in my mouth with a drink from the water, I dumped some water down the back of my neck and it went down my shirt. My body was so hot it felt like it was ready to catch on fire.
"Come on. We have some talking to do with the people behind the mirrors." He carefully got out of the chair and put a crutch under his arm to help him walk.
Following him out of the room we passed the door lodged in the wall. About one quarter of the door was in the wall from the force of the impact. No one was in front of it at the time or there would be a body and a lot of red painted on the wall.
We stopped about a hundred feet down the hallway and entered another room that was much smaller and had mirrors on three sides. In the middle was a metal table with chairs all around it. He had me sit down facing the middle mirror. He walked to a corner behind the door and sat in a chair, very slowly, as he dealt with the cast. I felt a bit sorry for him limping around with my handiwork.
We sat in silence for about ten minutes. My left hand was on the table and started to shake and then my eyes twitched and my vision hazed over. In the back of my mind I could see many people looking at me through the mirrors. People were moving around talking and adjusting cameras on stands and situating windows on computers that were collecting the video. They were recording everything happening in the room. Shaking my head to clear it, my eye lids blinked furiously to correct my vision.
Ten minutes later a General, you can tell by the stars on the shoulder, and another man leading a group of seven lab coat dressed people walked in. Standing up, I shook everyone's hand politely. No reason not to make it cordial.
With me alone on the one side, everyone else sat around the table. No one introduced themselves or got even remotely personal. My eyes rolled back briefly and I knew the man sitting next to the General in the suit was the Director of the NSA as the image flashed though my vision.
"So, Director, what National Security threat do I seem to be today?" Beating around the bush had long past.
He stopped and looked at me as he opened a file folder marked 'Top Secret' in red on the front. With a few government contracts for my companies, I knew what that meant in the terms of seriousness. He skimmed over it or at least pretended to. Everyone else was getting pads and pens ready to take notes.
"Well, Michael," he looked down at the file, "John asked you a good question in that room. Do you have any idea what your last name or the last name of your birth parents is?" he looked at me waiting patiently for a response.
"No," sticking to honesty felt right for the moment.
He looked down again and read, "Can you tell us what's been happening to you since you were fifteen?" it didn't surprise me they caught onto that.
"No." Everyone started to scribble notes. This seemed odd to me because I'd only said the same word twice.
The Director held the file up and pointed at something to the General. He just nodded and the Director went back to the file with his serious stare and look of intense understanding of the pages. It was all a cover, though. That file had been read several times by the look of the tattered cover.
"Do you have any idea what is going to happen on your 21st birthday?" he closed the file and left it in front of him.
"No." More notes were taken. "Can you tell me what's suppose to happen to me on my 21st birthday?" Maybe I could get some answers and leave before it did happen.
The Director looked at the General and the General nodded at him. "Well, we've been told by John that at the exact moment of your birth he will die." No one scribbled anything and just paid undivided attention. If a gnat were in the room you could hear its wings flap it was so silent.
Every single day for the previous six years of my life seemed to be more and more bizarre. Now, a man I didn't even know was prophesying his own death on my birthday. What do you say to that when you know absolutely nothing?
"Am I supposed to kill him or something?" the image flashing through my mind was making me sick. My imagination was overreacting with scenarios.
"Come on, Michael," the Director and General leaned forward on the table. "A man with obvious extra sensory abilities says he is going to die at the exact moment of your birth and you have no knowledge of this event? How is that possible?" So many notes were being written down it seemed like a book was written by the collective of the room.
"Director, I think you have a gambling problem," everyone looked up, shocked, from their pads.
"What?" he looked like a clown had just hit him with a squeaky hammer.
"Tomorrow you are going to lose $5 Million at exactly 12:05pm Eastern Standard Time." Everyone in the room looked both confused and frightened. "Now, I'm an individual with obvious extra sensory abilities. Do you believe me?" It was a stretch, but by the looks of the grins and ease of the faces in the room I got my point across.
"Okay. I understand what you're saying," he picked up the file again. "Michael, all we need to do is get answers to John's story. Everything he has told us has been about you or had something to do with you. We don't know why, but we want to understand." He stood up and walked to one of the mirror corners and leaned. "Does he have this ability and he's mentally unstable? Does he have some fixation on you? Has he created something in his mind? Or, is everything he's saying true?"
"Well, considering that you haven't told me anything that he has said except that he will die on my birthday," looking at him directly, "I can't help you answer these questions. I know we are in the middle of the 'Cloak and Dagger' scenario, but can you at least tell me what he said so I can tell you if I know anything at all? It's hard to see in the dark." Frustration mounted, but I really wanted to know what John said to them. Maybe it would make our conversation make more sense.
The General reached back and tapped the mirror without looking. Seconds later a military uniformed man, a Coronel, dropped off a file that had a 'Top Secret' under some sort of black emblem. The General handed it to the Director and nodded.
The Director opened the file and read over a few things. He looked up at me and looked me up and down like he was trying to make a decision. The General was just watching me like a hawk with as few blinks as possible.
"Let's start with the stuff that is somewhat believable or is fact," he held the file up. "John said that he has the ability to read and control the minds of people and animals. Since we've seen him do both we can say this is true." That would be a good trick with the animals. I was picturing a street vendor with a monkey steeling wallets in a crowd of tourists.
"Then he said he had the ability to move small objects with his mind. Again, we've seen him do this like with the chair earlier, so we can say that is true. The chair is about as big as it gets," nice of him to throw that one in there.
"He told us he was lying about who he was. You know about this already, the dead child's identity he's been using since the 1920's. That was true. We have photos of him all through the years and many of them tagged with the child's name," he rambled on matter of factly.
"This could be or might not be true," now we were getting into it and there was hope for some answers. "He said his appearance of age has only begun over the last ten years. He has looked twenty one most of his life. The aging in his appearance was a sign that his death was coming." I started to picture Dorian Grey and his magical painting that held the man's age so his body stayed young.
"So, what's unbelievable about that?" the General moved and the Director dropped his file down from his face. "You said you had pictures through the years. Did he seem to age at all in any of them until the last ten years?" invoking some thought into the process.
"Not at all, that we could tell," always defiant of something that seemed beyond their own idea of reality. "The last ten he has aged in all the photos we found."
"Well, the guy looks between 30 and 35 to me and unless my math is wrong he would be at least 75 if he was lying, correct?" there were some nods around the room. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
"He then told us he was told about you in a dream that was more of a vision than a dream." That was a bit out there and we were finally getting to some answers. I've had those dreams before and knew what he was describing.
"If, to this point, we believe he has told the truth, then this too must be the truth and," pointing to myself, "here I am." Life had become a movie, but was I the outcome or the punch line?
"Next, he told us the exact day, hour, and minute of your birth and that he would die at that moment so he was told in the dream." They all waited for a response from me.
"People, again, if we believe he has told truth to this point, there is no reason not to believe him." Before the meeting was over, if you could call it a meeting, there would be a need for crayons to draw this all out for them.
"Still on the semi-believable side," dropping my forehead on the table with a thud in listening to their disbelief. Not a good idea with a headache. "He would transfer all collective knowledge to you upon his death on your birthday." Everyone stopped and stared at me. This was really new. Were there even myths about such a thing?
"A couple of things he said raise questions for me there," and they did, but I also didn't want to look like I was just going with the program.
"Finally," the Director and a couple lab coats all said.
"The transferring of knowledge thing, how would that work? I mean, I'm not a computer nor is he. We can't just link and copy paste. Last I checked I'm not a worm. That means, again, if we believe he has told the truth until now, then there would be some extra sensory way he would be doing this. He has proven he can get into my head and, according to you, you have seen him do the same thing with other people and animals," the lab coats started to nod in acknowledgement.
McCoy waved his hand like a classroom, "What was the second question that rose for you?" My hope was to let that go by without any analysis openly. Chances were this was all going to happen the way he said it would. So far, there had not been a negative feeling run through my body about any of it.
"Collective Knowledge. What did he mean by 'Collective'?" asking in calming thought.
"Ah. Next he said," he looked at the General like he was reluctant to say it. "He said he had been alive for almost One Thousand years." Everyone was not only looking, but giving me the 'Okay smarty pants, explain that one' look.
"Hmmmm," bobbing my head and trying not to laugh. If John had said it, it was to be believed. Everything coming out of his mouth was absolute truth. I could feel it in the deepest regions of me.
"Let's use what he's said so far for deductive reasoning. He said he appeared 21 for most of his life. The pictures seem to prove that because of the length of time he was using the dead child's name. He said he finally aged over the last ten years, which seems to be true again from the photos. Did anyone ask him about lineage during the last thousand years and try to look up paintings say from the 1700's?" The expressions to my question started a reaction.
People were shooting glances around the room at other people. The Director was whispering to the General. McCoy was scanning me and then everyone else in the room.
"So, you just figured the guy was a nut job and left it at that without even checking?" The Director moved back to his seat.
"Okay, so let's for argument's sake say that because he told the truth for everything else, he must be telling the truth about this," looking around the table. "Just go with me here. I don't see why he would tell the truth about everything else and then lie about something like this." Winning over the crowd might have been impossible.
"He has nothing to gain from lying about this. All it would mean is that by 'Collective' he meant he was going to transfer one thousand years of knowledge to me. My birthday is in what," looking at the man in the lab coat next to me with a watch and grabbed his wrist, "about 36 hours. Let's just see what happens. If he transfers a thousand years of knowledge to me, then you'll sure as hell know it."
"That wasn't all he said, Michael," the Director glared up at me. "He also said that a major battle was going to happen on this planet," that sounded pretty big like World War II or something of that nature, "and you would be right in the middle of it." Leaning back in my chair, my mind was in a foggy daze.
My problem wasn't the same as the rest of the room's. Believing everything John was saying and knowing it to be true; I couldn't imagine being in the middle of or a catalyst of a huge war. How in the world was that possible to happen to me? Fear and disillusionment covered my entire body in every single pore.
"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. There's only one way to determine if he's telling the truth or not. We need to wait just 36 more hours and then we'll know if what he's saying is true or not." That was a sound way for me to get some time alone to think. Time and analysis of exactly what John said was the only way deciphering the riddles in his words.
"We've setup a room for you across the hall. You can order anything you want off the menu at all times. Someone will always be on the other side of the mirrors," the Director said in a comforting way, but I didn't feel comforted by it.
"Can I analyze that file over the next 30 hours or so and see if I can come up with anything?" asking to pour over it and see if John left any holes.
The Director handed me John's file and grabbed a pad and pen out of one of the lab coats hands and gave them to me. "Sure. And, by the way, he told us one thing to tell you," interesting.
"Okay. Shoot." It was going to be in the file so, no need to write it down.
"You need to figure out this riddle; what is the most destructive force to humans on this planet?" peculiar riddle.
To the right and a little way down on the left was my new room. It was pretty good size. It had a metal desk, metal chair, metal bed with mattress and a Plexiglas shower. All three walls had mirrors including the wall the shower was built into.
Placing the file and pad with pen on the desk and not seeing a menu around anywhere, I just spoke to the mirror.
"I was supposed to order from a menu, but I don't see one," with no way to tell if anyone was listening or not. "Can I have a New York Strip Steak, medium rare, with Asparagus and Loaded Bake Potato? Thank you." Someone tapped on the mirror in acknowledgement.
The riddle was fresh in my head as my analysis started. Being better with visualization, I opened up the file and looked at the back page. Guessing right, it seemed logical to have John's question at the back. A black hole was the most destructive for I could think of. Some people have thought of it as an Irregularity in Space-Time. Some have said it is a Singularity in Space-Time. Black holes are thought to be caused by the collapsing of a star on top of itself creating a gravitational pull so forceful not even light escapes it. The thought it also, that a black hole defies Space-Time.
Black holes are not on this planet. To 'Humans on This Planet' is the interesting part. The most destructive thing on the planet earth is humans, especially to ourselves. Wars rage killing one another over human ideas and ideologies. We create pollutants to damage the planet and make it harder for humans to live. We undermine each other to get ahead at any cost.
The answer, at least in part, is Humans. It didn't make a lot of sense, though. What was he trying to get at by asking the questions? How are we so destructive to one another?
My pen worked tirelessly to write down notes as they came into my head. There had to be something there in what he was asking. It wasn't just as simple as humans.
Pacing back and forth between the door and the mirror opposite it, my mind was spinning and spinning. Riddles were great, but this was a strange one. John wanted me to get the obvious portion of the riddle, but trying to figure out where he was going with it had its issues.
Frustration was getting to me when someone walked in with food. Sitting there eating relaxed me some. Cutting into the steak really put me at ease as food became my direction. It was perfectly done and had a great mushroom and onion topping on it with a sauce that was peppercorn based. Really great.
"Can someone have them send me a bottle of Cabernet and a glass, please?" Right then I wished I could go back and order it with the meal so the steak wouldn't get cold waiting.
Flipped through the rest of John's file looking at every detail, my taste buds wanted wine and my stomach wanted steak. The file was pretty thick from the last 3 years. Our conversation was driving me to analyze every detail for clues. Knowing everything he was telling me, and the government, was true. My mind wouldn't let it go. There was more there to be had somewhere in the pages.
So much was unexplained. What was all this knowledge he was going to dump on me? Was I going to be the world's greatest mechanic? There was a driving desire within me to know before it happened.
A female agent walked in with a dark bottle of wine and a glass. The bottle had the cork up. "Thank you," glancing up at her as she set it down on the desk.
She gave me a wink and a smile, "No problem." Interesting. Something to think about later.
Starving, I took a few bites of the steak and some asparagus. Flipping through more of the file there were some things the Director failed to tell me in the room. One thing, he was supposed to be almost a thousand years old and for most of that he was hunted by someone that wanted to kill him. Paranoid Schizophrenia came to mind and if I didn't know any better it would have seemed plausible.
Something else off was the translation of what John said about how he found out about me. The Director told me he said he was told in a dream. In the file it said I was the one that told him. That made absolutely no sense. They needed to fire whoever transcribed the notes. Actually, the entire thought about the dream wasn't a dream in the notes at all. He never said anything about dreams according to the notes.
Reading all the way through the rest of the file, there was nothing else that was a surprise. He was hiding a lot of information until my birthday. He must have figured there was no point to tell me something I would know soon enough and be able to share whatever with the government. Something seemed more bizarre than usual about this birthday thing, but it wasn't coming together.
After finishing most of the plate and reading through the entire file, lying down and shutting my eyes figured to help me think. Staring at the ceiling as my arms and legs stretched out, my eye lids got heavy quickly. Closing them with thoughts of what had happened with John that day and every word on paper should help put everything into place..
From the corner of two mirrors the conference room table stretched out in front of me. John was sitting there with cuffs on his wrists and two agents on either side of him. Everything in the room was intact and in place. The far door opened and I walked in with McCoy and some agents. They took the cuffs off both of us and everyone left.
John and I were talking back and forth and then he was moving and sitting on the table. All the detailed events were still fresh in my mind. He was in my head and the tormenting pain was obvious. Then my eyes twitched along with my left hand. Opening my eyes, the mirrors were exploding in slow motion and the walls were starting to crack until everything had just about stopped.
Swiftly, moving around the table between John and myself on my knees yelling, blood was coming out of the other me. From under John's shirt there was a soft bluish white glow over his heart. Pulling his collar forward a bit and it was glowing on his chest. It was identical to the one on my chest.
My eyes rolled back briefly and got the thought to search his pockets. In his right front change pocket was a mini audio cassette. Pulling it out it went into my pocket. Just for good measure, my hands went through his back pockets with no results.
The door that would eventually come off its hinges wouldn't open. It was locked up tight. Trying to kick it and hit it with my shoulder it still wouldn't budge. Trying to figure out what to do next, both my hands started to shake and my eyes twitched and hazed over. Pain shot through my head as my hand rose up to stop it, but instead my hand pulsated like something shot out of it as everything around me sped up and the door flew off its hinges and into the wall across from it.
My eyes were wide open passing the fallen door and down the hallway. The entire hallway vibrated for a second as a man came around the corner and then was gone. Steadying myself on the wall and looking behind me, the door was gone and it wasn't on the hinges.
Making a right turn into another hallway after passing the room from earlier with the Director and General, I was headed for the elevators ahead of me. At the end of the hallway was black smoke consuming my vision and the head of something like a large lizard or dragon came out of it. Terror ripped through my entire body causing my breathing to become rapid. Stopping dead in my tracks as it screeched, my hand was pulsating as it rose up and something came out again. The lizard head and black smoke exploded along with the back wall.
Standing there and trying to catch my breath after seeing something so horrifying, the elevator dinged and about fifteen guys in black tactical gear came my way down the hallway. Trying to breathe, the siren started to howl.
"Michael," McCoy's voice echoed but he wasn't visible. "Michael," opening my eyes, he was standing above me. McCoy was in my room with the siren going off after what seemed to be a dream.
"Yeah, I'm awake. What's wrong," sitting up on the bed.
"We have to get out of here. There was an explosion in the building!" he wasn't panicked.
Standing up with a petrified feeling, I walked out the door of the room and went down to the hallway. Looking at the end the entire wall had been destroyed. There was a parking garage area on the other side that was visible through a giant hole. My jaw dropped open.
"It's just this floor. We have to move you up one floor." He hobbled as we rushed to the elevators.
There was no smoke or sign of a lizard or dragon, just a massive hole in the wall. All kinds of explanations ran through my head. "I sensed that something was going to happened and fabricated a dream in my unconscious about it?" that was a good one except the sensing the exact timing of a bomb. John could have set the bomb and put it in my head earlier. It was pretty clear he wouldn't do that, though.
The elevator took us up one floor. We walked down to room 111 and went in.
"How long did I sleep?" This was a normal question from anyone else, but I needed to know my dream was just that.
"You must have been pretty tired. They said you slept about fifteen hours," McCoy grinned.
"Holy shit! Why did you let me sleep?" irritation make me sound angry.
"I didn't. The Director and General thought it best that you rest up for your birthday just in case," he laughed.
Shaking my head, "So, what about ten hours or so until it's time?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, you tell me," he was being sarcastic about the whole thing.
"I don't know. You have my birth certificate. I only had a modified copy because of the adoption." They like to try and keep that kind of information confidential in an adoption.
"The original says Midnight exactly, which is highly suspicious," he glared over at me with a raised brow.
"That does seem pretty far fetch for tonight," it would be like buying three hundred different items at a grocery store and having the total come to exactly $500.00.
"I'm going to go. I have a bunch of meetings in order to get ready for tonight. Huge waste of time. I'll let you eat." He hobbled out closing the door behind him.
"Can I have some bacon, sausage, eggs over easy, wheat toast and about thirty shots of espresso, please?" I directed at the mirror. Again, there was a tap on the mirror in response.
McCoy leaving was good so I could be alone to panic in peace about what happened in the hallway. Just starting to wonder about it, the room began to vibrate. Sitting was good to wait for it to be over. Standing back up, the woman agent that delivered the wine the day before dropped off breakfast.
Confusion was all over my face, "How the hell? How long has it been since I ordered?" It felt like it had maybe been a minute.
"I don't know," she looked confused herself, "about fifteen or twenty minutes." She put down the tray and winked at me again as she left.
Something very bizarre was happening. It all started with the damn dream and had become like day dreaming. Eating everything on my plate in a daze, there wasn't even an acknowledgement of food as it was shoveled in. They gave me a porcelain pot of espresso. It didn't take my nerves long to make it through the entire pot.
My mind was off trying to remember every moment before the agent dropped the food and my thoughts before that happened. Remembering nothing in particular, McCoy had just left and then the food order. The room, the room was on my mind when it all started to happen.
Standing up and the room vibrated again knocking me off my feet. Waiting patiently on the bed, my expectation was for someone to walk in or something to happen. Nothing happened at all. Pacing back and forth between the door and one of the mirrors, for about five minutes, my thoughts were trying to stay away from anything in particular.
Stopping in the middle of the room and looking around, nothing happened. Pacing back and forth for about ten minutes, I remembered the vibrating room and how everything shook but nothing broke. Then the room shook again and I stumble back to the desk putting my hand on it to steady myself. It kept shaking for quite some time before it finally stopped. My eyes were looking around the room. No cracks in the walls or cracked or broken mirrors.
Looking down at the desk there was something different. The tray was gone from the desk, yet no one had been in the room. Sitting right where the tray had been, my eyes wondered the room. My heart was beating extremely fast and my breathing was heavy. This was making me feel really strange and light headed.
McCoy walked back into the room. "Well, that was a shit day! I swear the NSA has too many meetings that are just useless." Putting my hands over my face and shaking my head. "What's wrong with you?"
"What time is it?" asking through my hands.
"About 10:00 PM. Why?" My mouth opened so wide that you could have driven a truck through it. Falling head first onto the bed, my face hit the pillow.
"Do me a favor and come get me when we have about 30 minutes left. I'm going to take a nap. I don't feel that great!" which was an understatement.
"Okay," he walked out of the room and my eyes shut tightly.
That was the strangest few minutes of my life and it ended up being 8 hours. Trying to fall asleep or at least hoping to, I felt myself drift off and have dreams about Delilah, Matt, Bob, my parents, meetings and a dragon. No zombies which was a good thing.
After about an hour or so, I hoped, my legs swung over the edge of the bed. Looking in the mirror, "Can I have a cheese burger and two dirty martinis, please?" The knocking on the mirror said they got it. Waving seemed appropriate.
Walking over to the sink and splashing some water on my face, it felt good and woke me up. Trying to keep my thoughts about John so other things didn't pop in my head and have something even more off the wall happen.
The same female agent showed up with the food, "Are you stalking me?" smiling at her sinisterly.
"Maybe a little," she smiled back. "I can't help it, you're cute."
"Isn't that against protocol or something?" I asked sinisterly.
"Yeah, I know I can't do anything, but a little eye candy never killed anyone." She left the room.
Before tearing into the burger, one martini went down to calm my nerves. It was going to be a long night and my nerves were already on edge. What John said was going to happen and that meant my brain was going to get hammered with information real fast. There was no telling what that would do to me.
It took six or seven minutes to eat the burger and down the other martini finishing just as McCoy walked back in.
"Have a good nap?" He seemed in a good mood from what I knew about him.
"Yeah. It was much needed," though he wouldn't believe the actual day's events.
"You ready?" he pointed out the door.
"Let's do this," walking out the door and waited for him to lead.
He led me to a room that would have been two further down from the conference room on the other floor. In the room that was about the size of the conference room were three mirrored walls like every other room. Around the outside were a bunch of computers and other equipment hooked up to two Dentists type of chairs. They were facing the middle mirror with some space between them.
A man in a lab coat and glasses that looked like a doctor said, "Take off your shirt, socks and shoes, please," he said emotionless.
They attached leads to my chest and head. They wrapped a cuff around my bicep for my blood pressure. Just as they finished with me and strapped me down in the chair, John was brought in. He went through the same setup. By the time we were both hooked up and strapped down it was 5 minutes to midnight.
John looked over at me, "Well, here we go. Moment of truth for everyone since most of them do not believe that anything will happen. Wish I could see their faces afterward," he laughed and it made me smile in amusement.
Looking around the room, most people were trying to stay out of the way of the mirrors. Most of them just checked the machines and moved behind us.
"So, anything you want to tell me since it will be your last words?" hoping to get some answers.
"Nope. Except to follow my voice and you will be fine," nodding in agreement.
"Two minutes," someone behind us said.
"Midnight tonight seems a little strange to me, John. What an odd time," poking trying to find any answer.
"You will understand later." He was really putting all his eggs in that basket. It was starting to feel like a mob guy saying he pleads the fifth.
"One minute," from behind us, again.
Looking around the room, my body started to feel a little off. My heart was beating faster and picking up the pace. It was beating two different heart beats trying to pound out of my chest. The room was starting to spin a little and my hands were shaking. Tingling sensations were running through my body starting at my feet and moving up like a massaging chair.
My chest had a slight glow over my heart as John who was watching me. His chest was starting to glow as well. There was shaking in his hands and feet as his face was starting to shake.
The room was vibrating and it was picking up. At first I thought we were in the middle of an earthquake because this time the chair was starting to bounce around as well. The rest of my body was shaking violently as my eyes twitched and rolled back with my vision getting hazy.
I could hear a voice, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1," a bright light blasted into the room.
In front of me was light blue electricity circling a white cloud ring around a black center and my body was moving through it. Reaching out, the electricity was leaping onto my hand while passing through the tunnel. The speeding pace of moving through the tunnel was the same as my heart rate.
At the end of the tunnel was a faint dim light glowing rushing toward me. Blinking, my focus came back with my feet planted in the middle of an Asian area rug. All around me were book shelves full of books and some antique trinkets lining an octagon shaped room. It had at least twelve levels to it with a ladder that went around the room on a brass track. A library this size with this many books I had never seen or heard of before. It seemed like a football stadium with books in it.
In the middle of the room was an old mahogany desk complete with a tiffany style desk lamp that was lit. There was no ceiling only blue sky with white clouds above it. There was no door, only shelves of books all the way around.
Spinning around the room looking up and down at all the books, it felt as though everything were in slow motion. Behind me, at the desk, John was sitting in a chair. He was watching me as I studied the room.
"What is this?" asking him as he smiled at me.
"This is all the knowledge I have just put in your mind. Well, it is a representation of it anyway. I thought this would be easier for you." A library the size of the Coliseum hardly seemed easy.
"Where are we, John?" I was confused, but I felt pretty warm inside.
"We are inside your mind, Michael." Before, that would have been strange to hear.
A clean library was not the visual the inside of my mind would have provoked. Darkness and complete chaos would have fit much better.
"Oh, no. This is just the representation of the knowledge I am passing to you. This is the Collective knowledge that I have." There was that collective term again.
It seemed impossible to have collected all that knowledge in even one thousand years.
"Oh, this is not just me." He was reading my mind. "I said Collective knowledge. You see, you will get some answers here and now. I cannot give you all the answers, Michael, but I can give some," finally after years of questions.
"Okay. What do you mean by Collective?" easy stuff first.
"I am not the first and you are not the second. In fact, I was the sixth and you are the seventh. This library," he put his arm up and spun around presenting it, "is the culmination of each of us. As one dies they pass that knowledge to the next along with what they gained from the previous. In this case, you are getting six thousand years worth of knowledge."
A huge smile crossed over my mouth at the possibilities, "That's incredible!"
"Yes, but," there is always a but, "the trick is learning to access the knowledge. You have to, as a representation, open each book in order to get the knowledge. It will not just come to you. But, in a manner of speaking, you won't have to read the book. You just have to open each book to gain the knowledge."
So many questions needed answers; I didn't know where to start. Not sure how long this was going to last, the urge was to ask everything all at once.
"This will last as long as it needs to. In essence, time is stopped while we have this conversation. When you return, no time will have passed for everyone else," definitely good to know.
"Okay. Am I immortal or something to that affect?" This was the first thought after they told me John said he lived a thousand years.
"Yes. All the normal things you would think of like being shot, hung, stabbed, drowned, hit by a car and so on. They will be painful for a moment, but you will recover form it very quickly." That sounded pretty insane. Like superhero-ish which defied every known scientific law.
"Actually, a lot of stories through history were created because of us. Superhero's are one of them." Matt was going to have a field day with that one.
"So, something can kill me?" asking somewhat concerned.
"Not something, but someone. Think of it as a Yin and Yang. You have a Yang out there. That person will be your opposite in every way. In your case, there will be one other. Each of us in the past has had only this one. For you, there will be two." The glowing soft smile he had before left his face.
"What," calling it this was killing me because it sounded ridiculous, "kind of powers do I have?"
He laughed, "A sign of the age it is. Well, your Powers, are unknown. You will discover them as you age. You must learn how to use them and how to control them. It will take time." That was obvious already. "It will take a lot less time after today for you to learn these. Like I said before, you are the most powerful being to ever have been on this planet before."
"I'm supposed to live for one thousand years?" asking as the memory of vampires feeling alone in the movies popped into my mind.
"That is how it has been before. The rest of that question you will find the answer to yourself."
It was so nice to finally understand some of what was going on. I could probably have talked to John for days going over every detail and never duplicating a question.
"Why are you and I like this and what is the purpose of it?" there had to be some purpose or reason.
"Again, you will find that out yourself?"
"I saw some documents the NSA had about the other 6? What is that all about?" This was very important to figure out because the government was looking for them and I wanted to know why in case they would use me to track them down.
"At any given time," he leaned back and put his legs up on the desk, "there are six others like you on this planet," the planet term was big with him.
"They have the same abilities?" it would be a crazy group of disappearing people.
"No. No one ever has the same abilities. They are always unique not only to the seven, but also to all those before them." He was just lounging, waiting for the next question.
"Will the six know each other and will they go through the same as what you and I have gone through here?" It was starting to feel comfortable which, was probably a good thing.
"You will all be drawn to one another," he tapped his fingers on the chair arm. "They will go through this same type of thing. It probably won't be as pleasant. Since I can enter and control minds it was simple for me to make this simple on you. When the seven are changing over, it goes in the order of most powerful. The first is the leader and everyone will know that. Kind of like an Alpha male in a pack."
The next obvious thing to ask, "Are there seven of the Yang as well?"
"Yes. Each one will be the opposite of one of the seven."
Racking my brain, searching for anything, nothing else came to mind to ask. The shelves had the rest of the answers sitting on them.
"Will I age?"
"Not until you are about ten years from the end. Then you will, a little. Look at me. I know I look early thirties, which if you said I was 21 when I started to age again, would be about right."
"What happens to you now?"
"That is for me to know and for you to learn," he put his arms out toward the books. "It is all right here. You just have to find it."
"I don't think I have any other questions. It looks like I'll have to figure the rest out on my own," shrugging and feeling sad with what would happen.
"Yes, you are right," he stood up and moved over to me. "Okay, so, close your eyes," I closed them, "Click your heels together three times." Starting to move my heels, I stopped and opened my eyes glaring at him. He started laughing so hard snot was coming out of his nose.
"Sorry, I had to. All you have to do is close your eyes and think about being back in the room in that chair and it will happen."
Walking up to him I gave him a hug. "Goodbye, brother."
"Goodbye, Michael," he smiled as he pulled away from me. "And, good luck!" He winked before he vanished right in front of me and the sadness washed over me from somewhere deep seeded inside my body.
Looking up at the huge library with the plethora of books, it was amazing that the only thing needed was to open each and every one in order to gain the knowledge passed down to me. It was going to take a long time to get them all opened but it would be worth every ounce of the effort.
Standing in the middle of the room, my focus was on the room with all the machines and computers. My only thought was being in the chair next to John. My eyelids shut with only those two thoughts.
Feeling the air rushing past my face, the electricity from the tunnel was zipping by me again only at a much faster speed. Ahead of me was the light and sounds of the room.
Popping my eyes open and blinking, the doctors were yelling. Not being able to move because of the constraints, my neck turned to John. He was dead, but the doctors were trying to revive him. It was a waste of time and effort.
"Stop," yelling out with a thunderous booming voice. Everyone in the room did stop. Calmly, "He's gone. Let him go in peace," he had a grin on his face. "And let me out of this chair, please."
That was my 21st birthday. 12:00:00.000 AM on December 25th, 1999.