AllFreeNovel
Share Us
At some point, the exhaustion and pain grow unbearable, but then, to my surprise, I get a second wind.
Is it my newfound powers kicking in? Maybe I’ve manipulated the balance of oxygen in my body to somehow counteract the buildup of lactic acid in my muscles. Or maybe I’ve just figured out a way to boost the endorphin production in my brain. Whatever it is, I’m not complaining.
I swim and swim and swim, and finally, I spot a distant shore.
Gulping in air, I kick harder, ignoring the fact that the distance I have left is greater than any I’ve tried to swim in prior black windows.
Just as I did before, I remind myself of a simple truth: My muscles are not really tearing into bits. It’s not oxygen I lack. There’s no lactic acid in my muscles, and the rope cutting into my waist isn’t real. This is just a dream construct that makes it difficult for weaker dreamwalkers to access the locked memories.
That last bit helps perk me up. Surely I’m not weak with the boost I got.
The second wind lasts halfway through my desperate sprint to the shore. The pain returns, infinitely worse, and my strength flags. Still, I refuse to give up. I just swim as though my life depends on it.
As though if I drown, that is it.
Something shifts then. My arms and legs move without my conscious control. I begin slicing through the water like a shark, and keep this up all the way to the shore.
My feet brush the sand, and the ocean around me disappears.
I find myself in a familiar clearing in the woods populated by alien trees, some resembling coral reefs, others baobabs. The surreal, forest-filled sky is familiar as well and implies that this planet—or spaceship—is a pretzel shape instead of a sphere. Or, as Itzel put it, it’s a structure made of two counter-rotating cylinders known as the O’Neill colony.
This clearing is also the very place where Mom killed Asha.
If I had any doubts that I was born on Soma, they’re gone now.
Setting that aside, there are two Valerians here, and one of them looks noticeably younger than mine. The young Valerian is shirtless—a great look on him—and is fighting with a tall, striking stranger, while the regular Valerian is standing right by me, looking awestruck by the scene.
“I can’t believe I forgot this,” he mutters. “I know that’s how black windows work, but now that I’m here, it’s hard to believe I couldn’t remember this.”
“Why are you fighting this guy?” I ask.
“I’d never fight Kojo,” he says with a faint smile. “We’re just sparring.”
Kojo. Where have I heard that name? I don’t get a chance to ask because the memory changes.
This time, Valerian and Kojo are young teens, both climbing a baobab-like tree.
Aha. Just like in Mom’s black window, the memories are coming at us out of order. What’s different is that this memory plays out fast, like a slightly sped-up video. Or maybe the boys are just fast climbers?
“Isn’t it dangerous to climb that quickly?” I say to grown-up Valerian, who’s next to me again. “Or is something else going on here?”
“The memories will speed up as my presence compromises the black window’s integrity,” he says. “What I want to know is, how do I remember this factoid already? I don’t think I knew this before we started.”
“Integrity?” I ask as Kojo and Teen Valerian reach the top and sit on a thick branch.
“At some point, the black window will shatter,” my Valerian says. “After that, we’ll get kicked out, and I’ll have the memories back.”
I start to reply, but the memory changes again.
Valerian looks to be two or three, and is as adorable as a toddler can be. His ocean-blue eyes are twice their current size, and his cherubic face already shows a hint of adult Valerian’s striking features.
A woman is holding the toddler, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it’s his mom. Her loving expression and their resemblance make that clear.
“This is my earliest memory of her,” my Valerian whispers reverently. “I think she’s about to sing.”
She does, and even sped up, the song is beautiful and serene. Soon, toddler Valerian’s eyelids begin to droop, and the memory flips again.
We’re in an achingly familiar room.
Grown Valerian gapes at the people here, and so do I.
The young Valerian is about six, and so is Kojo. To my shock, I recognize both of them at this age. I’ve seen them in another black window—my mom’s.
But what stuns me most is the sight of the two girls playing with the boys.
Two identical twins.
Bailey and Asha.
Little me and my dead sister.
Chapter Thirty-One
My parents are there too. In fact, I think I saw Mom’s memory of this exact event. Young Valerian was there; I just didn’t yet know that’s who he was. At that point, I just thought the boy looked familiar.
