And Liam felt it, turned to look, his eyes wide, his mind suddenly gurgling with love and laughter at the thought of his playful grandfather, and held out his arms to John Stockton.

Stockton’s heart was bursting. He reached out his hands, took his grandson in his arms, cradled him in one, then reached out, pulled his daughter close in the other.

He closed his eyes to focus on what was inside.

All love. All fire.

“Oh dad,” Julie said. “This is so wonderful.”

Yes, Stockton thought. Yes.

“Please don’t let them take Liam away,” Julie went on, tears falling from her face, fear of loss rising from her. “Please.”

Shock rippled through John Stockton.

What?

Who?

“What are you…?” he started.

Then he saw it through her thoughts, felt it through her, the fear, the things she’d seen, the things he’d seen, the things that were suddenly real.

Families torn apart.

Children ripped out of their parent’s arms.

Men and women imprisoned.

Children…

The children on those videos…

His chest constricted.

His stomach rose up.

“Don’t let them, Dad,” Julie said again. “Please!”

Oh, God, Stockton thought. What have I done?

He swallowed hard, pulled Julie tight, sent soothing thoughts to his daughter, shushed her, kissed her brow, as Liam squirmed and looked out the windows of the Beast, his mind alive with wonder at the everyday world all around them.

“It’s going to be OK,” John Stockton told his daughter. His voice cracked as he spoke. His heart ached.

“I’m going to make it OK."

God have mercy.

128
Merge

Monday 2041.01.20

Rangan stood, ripped the mask off his face. The tunnel was spinning, the nightmare chaos of images from the minds around him forcing him to stagger against the wall behind him.

They were reaching for him, wanting what he was giving, buffeting him too much in the process, feeding back the chaos in their heads.

He needed some deeper pool of peace.

He reached deep inside, pulled up a memory, fresh in his mind.

That monk who’d come up on stage. That first moment.

Peace flowing out of him like water. Tranquility. Ripples of it.

Rangan closed his eyes. Leaned back into the wall. Breathed deep. Imagined waves of cool, liquid calm washing outwards.

Going to be OK.

We’re going to be OK.

Deep breath.

The water was more than peace.

It had been… what?

Love?

Compassion.

That’s what.

He summoned it from that memory, let it wash out of him now.

White compassion.

White like snow.

White like fluffy clouds.

Soft white.

Soothing white. Cotton ball white.

Brushing the mind. Comforting. Understanding. Soaking up the confusion.

Turning it to peace.

The music was still playing from the app in his mind.

Bubble Tea.

Nova Bliss.

Cloud Giant.

Apoptosis.

Lovely downtempo track after lovely downtempo track.