The Wounded World
A Story of Mantra
By Aladdin
Originally written 2006
Revised Feb. 24, 2021
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MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS

Edited by Christopher Leeson

Chapter 8

I see the past, present, and future existing all at once before me.

William Blake

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"When do I get to do the glamorous stuff" my young friend asked me suddenly.

"What are you talking about? There isn’t anything glamorous in being an ultra hero."

“Aren’t you being cynical? Look how people lionize Hardcase.”

“Yes, they do. But from what I’ve heard and read, he's a man who carries around a lot of hurt. Believe me, getting praised by a lot of people you don’t even know never means much. It's a meal of straw. The happiest person I ever met was a fisherman.”

“I don’t think I’m the fisherman type.”

“Well, if you don’t like getting your pants legs wet, start a flower shop. But if you want an over-the-top miserable life, being an ultra hero is the best way to have one.”

“How can you say that? I love what ultras do, except for the pain and fear part. Want’s wrong with making a career out of protecting people?”

"It isn’t wrong. In fact, I respect people willing to do that. I’m just saying, don’t expect crime-fighting and monster-chasing to give you a fun life. Look before you leap. Like, weren't you at the mall just to meet your mom, but ended up in a fight for your life? Reality really hits you in the face when you’re an ultra. You already know how easily innocents can get hurt by being caught in the crossfire. When that happens, you blame yourself. Friends are going to die right before your eyes, and you’ll feel rotten about that, too. Ultras get killed trying to do the right thing, and even more of them end up crippled. You were lucky last weekend. A lot of ultras haven't been so lucky. Because of NM-E, Starfire has been lying in a coma for years. And what reward does an ultra gain? His picture in a series of trading cards? His action figure at the shopping mall?”

“If you can help people, why can't I?” she asked.

“You can help people, if that’s what you really want to do. But there are so many safer ways to help people. Like, wouldn’t it be great to start a campaign for shaming internet trolls enough to make them hide in their mother's basement?”

She didn’t sound convinced. “I think a lot of folks could have died at the Mall if I hadn't been there. If I hadn't been willing to fight last Friday night, you'd be dead, too. And the Mantra fan club would still be doing the wandering-monster thing. Think of what harm could Gus have caused if he’d taken over the entire town?”

Okay, I could grant that she'd saved the life of the local Mantra. But also it sounded like she had managed to take a stupid situation set up by Aladdin and turn it into something really dangerous. Also, by my reading, it was Aladdin that stopped Gus, not her. But I didn’t want to hurt the feelings of a girl who was so sweetly earnest.

“If you’re serious about being an ultra hero, at least never make the mistake of thinking that you’re important or irreplaceable. I last month I visited a parallel dimension. It was just like ours in most ways, except that it had never had a Mantra. And you know what? That world was solving its problems very nicely without her. That experience has cued me in on the fact that we’re all less important than we think we are.”

When she didn't make a reply, I continued. “Listen, Lauren, we'd better finish this off quickly. I have a few more questions about Friday night, and I don't want to keep you up too late."

"Yeah, you're right, Eden. I have school tomorrow."

#

After Lauren and I had signed off, I looked back at Pinnacle, who was lounging on the couch. "I got a few more details about when Mantra lost her powers," I told her.

The blonde nodded. “I know. I was following the whole conversation psionically. But there were things that your protégé didn't know. We should still learn the details that Evie might have."

"So, are we done for tonight?"

"Yeah. You can sleep over if you want to."

"I suppose. But this thing seems to be getting more confusing than ever. Like, how was it that Mantra’s powers disappeared only exactly when she returned to her own body?"

"That will take some analysis. But maybe I can cheer you up. I've gotten another idea about a way to restore your abilities."

“How?”

"Well, you know how some people think that ultras are ultras because they have nanites that allow them to access untapped powers inherent in their DNA. It’s just possible that Gus subjected you to some sort of energy pulse that destroyed the nanites in your tissue. Think of it like an EMP electrical circuits. If that’s the case, cloning of your present body might not successfully produce a new body that will be able to channel the magical forces like before."

"So we're talking about cloning again?"

"That’s not my preferred recourse but, if all else fails, it's our last best hope. If, instead, get you a cloned body that’s derived from a vital and functioning witch – such as Necromantra or Lauren – you might be home free. Or would you prefer to be a male sorcerer the next time around?"

I looked away. This was something heavy to think about. “I have a good reason to want to stay with Eden Blake's body,” I finally told her. “She asked me to take care of her family. How could do that if I lost her identity? If I have to give up being a member of my family, I might do a ‘hard reboot’ and go male again. Sure, I'd have to restart a whole new life and identity, but I’m pretty sure that it would be easy to go back to what I’m most used to.

"I see your point."

“But why make a whole body?” I asked. “Why not just grow a culture of a living nanites, the way a medical lab cultures antibodies?"

Her eyes narrowed with thought. “A worthwhile suggestion. It's something to experiment with. In the meantime, I’m going to put a watch on your nanite count, to see if they are on the increase. That could mean natural healing that could bring your abilities back within a reasonable time. We also have to check you out psychologically. I’ve overheard you're negative attitudes toward the ultra life. When the other Mantra was traumatized on Friday, her own subconscious might have switched off her nanites. Did you notice that Mantra kept her powers until she was safe?”

“Safe? Mantra ended powerless in the same room as Necromantra!”

“Well, it’s likely that there’s not a one-to-one correspondence between the conscious and the unconscious mind.”

“Has anyone actually proven that nanites are actually key to an ultra's power?”

“Not conclusively. The most convincing study I know of involves Hardcase. Either he was born with nanites, or that pulse from the Entity on the moon materialized them into his blood and tissue, don’t you think?”

“You're asking me?”

She shrugged. “I thought you might know something. Doesn’t Aladdin have files on all the known ultras?”

"Yeah, but I don’t have clearance to everything. Anyway, a person can't trust any information out of Aladdin. But on another score, how long would a nanite study take? I can't be waiting for the grass to grow, not with Necromantra out there gunning for me."

 #

Over breakfast, I tried to make conversation, but Penny wasn't registering.

"You seem preoccupied, Pin."

The blonde sighed. "Cloning facilities are expensive. I built this lab using my Las Vegas winnings. When they couldn’t figure out how I was fleecing them, they just started banning me on sight because I was “too lucky.” The industry gets away with blacklisting not only cheats, but lucky gamblers, too. It’s as unconstitutional as all hell, but since when have politicians and judges cared about the Constitution?”

“Is you medical practice on a good financial basis?” I asked.

“What medical practice? I don't have the big-school credentials to treat patients legally. I'm self-taught. I could invent some lucrative new medical technology that could make millions, but the required testing, production, and marketing would take years – and a lot of start-up money.

“Why not play the market? Isn’t it just a form of gambling? Manipulators have been making tens of millions overnight forever, and nobody even notices anymore.”

“The way I see it, the market is a casino, but a crooked one. The winners and losers are all picked before the game even begins. The regulators don’t exist to stop the real lawbreaking. Their backroom orders are to make sure that the people who are supposed to lose actually do lose. I’d have to get insider credentials to have a chance at keeping the FBI and Securities and Exchange Commission off my back. The quickest way to do that would be to set up a hedge fund and load up its board with long-established Wall Street sharks. But I don’t happen to like playing ball with people so corrupt that they make my own psyonic dodges seem honest. What about you, Lu? Do you have any resources?"

"Back home, I live from check to check. I've got about $42.00 in my Christmas club account. Back home, I could get help from the only billionaire I know, Brandon Tark, but not here."

“I see. Our Brandon Tark is an international fugitive these days.”

“Oh, no! You've read my mind to get a fellow ultra's secret identity!”

“Sorry. I always find out so much more than I really intend to.” Pinnacle stared down into her bacon and eggs, as if reading logarithms. "If I put my mind to it, I could probably hack into some human trafficker’s Cayman Island bank account and suck out a few billion for my own use. If you target dirty money, someone without connections won't be able to report his losses openly.”

I shook my head. "The trouble is, I know that lots of human traffickers have high-end connections. It’ barely even a secret anymore. Hell, there’s open talk about bigshots and big crimes like that in Aladdin’s lunchrooms. And nobody that I’ve heard discussing even thinks that it’s even a problem. Remember that Haitian orphans scandal, and who was profiting from it?”

“Touché."

“Listen, whatever you do, I don't want you getting into trouble just for helping me.” When she didn’t reply to that, I changed the subject. “We haven't talked much about those celestial energy surges so far. I can't get them out of my mind. They might be behind whatever happened to Gus, and maybe to me and Lauren, too."

"I haven't been looking into that event. I was pretty much out of things last Friday night, you know. Do you suppose that these energy waves could have had some sort of trans-dimensional effect, sweeping you out of one universe and into this one?"

I shook my head. “The timing seems wrong. Whatever hit me, it hit me on Thursday, not Friday. But maybe calendar dates in one world doesn't sync with the dates in the other."

"I wouldn’t dare to start speculating on the fabric of time and space without some serious study. Time is a lot trickier than most people think."

"I only know enough science to get along," I admitted. "I just hope that our two worlds are very different. I'd hate to think of my Gus ever suffering the same fate as the Gus Blake of this planet."

The scientist shook her head. "Well, first things first. We need to get the full story about Friday night from Evie. You ought to bring her over as soon as possible.”

"She's awfully fragile, Pin. You'll be asking her to remember the most terrifying night of her life."

Pinnacle grimaced. "I know how to take precautions. And it can actually be good for a child to talk things out. A trauma that’s held inside for too long at that age can twist a youngster’s psyche into knots."

We discussed that subject until she assuaged my misgivings. But I immediately felt selfish? Would I be giving in so easily if the tyke in question had been my true daughter, and not just her doppelganger?

"I think you'd always try to do the right thing, no matter which world you found yourself on," my companion reassured me.

I looked hard at Penny. “Are my thoughts always that easy to read?"

"Not always, but please don’t try to hold things back. I need to know your psychology in-depth. I wouldn't blame you, though, if you didn’t trust a nutty professor."

"Aren't you getting past that insecurity shtick?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Twelve hours ago, the only thing I had on my mind was my next liquor delivery. I appreciate you coming here; it's made a difference. Helping people with their misery gets my mind off of my own."

#

I didn't want Mother and Evie to worry, but calling them at that time of night would wake them both up. Instead, I slept in Penny's guest room and made the family call-in a little after 8:00 A.M. When Evie came on the line, I told her that I would be seeing her and her grandma soon.

We each used our own car. I left Penny with hers, killing time at a nearby mall. Meanwhile, I drove back to the motel and let Mother know that Dr. Lammars might be a good choice to treat Evie for fear trauma. Naturally, my ever-loving mom launched into a counter-argument.

"Are you sure that your friend isn't just angling to collect two fees, instead of just one?" she asked pointedly.

"Mom," I said, "do you distrust Penny just because she’s my personal friend? Whatever doctor we pick, we can't leave Evie the way she is. I’ve only delayed taking her to a psychologist so far because we’ve been forced to do this relocation. It’s time to reprioritize. My federal health insurance at the C.I.A covers psychiatric care for dependent minors, so money won’t be a factor."

Her lips puckered. "I wasn't thinking about the money, Eden, but I'm glad that you're paying attention to practical matters. By the way, how did your talk go last night? Did that Penny person help you remember anything?"

"No, not really. There'll be a lot of tests, hypnotism sessions, and psychological profiles to construct. The doctor says that my memories could even come back, little by little, by themselves. Or they could return all at once."

"Hmm. She's got herself covered every which way from Sunday."

"Mother, what’s this argument about? Is it that you know of some other psychiatrist that you trust more than Penny Lammars?"

"Thankfully, no. I've never needed one; you and your brothers turned out just fine. But I do watch Dr. Rasmussen's TV show every now and then...."

"Mom" had a contrary streak -- that was for sure. Was it because sensed that that there had been something not right with me for the last couple years? Or had she treated the real Eden exactly the same way that she was treating me?

When Evie was dressed for going out, I phoned Penny to hop over and pick us up. Hopefully, Barbara Freeman would appreciate having the family vehicle to make a personal exploration of the city. Dr. Lammars, when she arrived, greeted the little girl with professional charm that quickly elicited grins from the little girl.

Then we took off for Pinnacle's apartment and, when we got there, Evie and I sat side by side on a love seat. Our hostess drew up a chair in front of us and said, "Evie, let's hold hands. While we do so, I want you to look right into my eyes."

"Are you gonna hippytize me?" the tyke asked warily.

"Something like that," Penny replied, holding back a smile. "You're not nervous, are you, not with your mommy sitting right beside you?"

"I guess not."

"That's a good girl. Okay Evie, take a deep breath, relax, and let me look into those pretty blue eyes of yours."

Though not myself the target, I thought I felt the backwash of the ultra’s powerful brainwaves projecting into Evie's mind, soothing and calming her. I sensed the tension going out of the tyke. Penny started speaking, softly and slowly: "Evie, you're drifting off to sleep, but you'll be able to hear your mommy and me asking you questions. You'll be able to talk just as if you were still awake. What you’re having is a good kind of sleep. You won't be afraid of anything at all. You'll be able to think about the most ugly Halloween mask or the creepiest monster movie that you ever saw without being scared. Relax, relax, relax. You're completely asleep now, Evie. Tell me how you feel."

"I feel good."

"Excellent. First, tell me, do you know that your mom has lost some of her memories?"

"Yeah. I know," answered Evie, her voice clear and soft.

"If you could help her remember some of what she's forgotten, wouldn't that be nice?"

"Uh-huh."

Pinnacle glanced aside to me. "Okay, Eden. I think she's ready. It will be for the best if you did most of the talking."

I nodded and kissed the youngster on the top of her head before beginning my interview.

"Evie, I want you to tell me all about what happened last Friday night. Begin the story just before any of the bad things started to happen. You don't feel scared about doing that, do you?"

Her glance were soft and dreamy. "No, Mommy. I don't feel scared."

"That's my brave little pumpkin. Okay, tell us what happened. You don't have to be in a hurry. Just do the best you can. What do you remember happening after I got home from work?"

Evie took a deep breath. "When you got home I was playing Mantra with Mr. Paws."

Mr. Paws, I knew, was Evie's favorite toy, her teddy bear. I had seen it in our motel room. How odd it was that such a small detail as the name of a toy could be duplicated in another reality, while so many other factors were different.

"I was being Mantra, an' Mr. Paws was pretending to be me," the little girl explained. "I was telling him about how I'd turned into Mantra right after breakfast so I could go out and spend the whole day saving people. Mr. Paws got really excited and wanted to hear all about it. That's when you came in. I told you that Grandma had to leave a little early 'cuz she was having dinner with some nice old man."

I bit my lip. Back on my own world, Barbara Freeman had, indeed, told me on Wednesday evening that she'd only be able to baby-sit until six-thirty on Friday night because a retired gent from her genealogical club had asked her out. Maybe the two worlds weren't very different -- and that worried me. A lot.

"That's when we heard Gus yelling and throwing things at the wall," continued Evie. "You an' me went to his room to see what was wrong. Gus's face was red, he was so mad. He said that Daddy'd called to say that he couldn't take him to the ball game, even though he'd promised. Gus started using naughty language about Daddy and you said he shouldn't say such bad things. That made him even madder and so... so he did something really awful!"

She had emphasized the word “awful,” I squeezed her hand. "What did he do, Button? I quietly braced myself, prepared to hear something appalling.

Evie was glancing down at her knees, biting her lower lip. The memory was clearly a disturbing one. I squeezed the little girl's hand and asked, "What did he do, Sweetie? Can you talk about it?"

She nodded and whispered, "Yeah, I can talk, Mommy. Gus grabbed Mr. Paws and tore his head off! He shouldn'ta done that. I didn't say anything bad, and Mr. Paws didn't say anything either. We both felt sorry that Daddy wasn't gonna keep his promise. When Gus did that awful thing, I started to cry. You got so mad that you slapped him and told him to stay in his room until he 'pologized to me and Mr. Paws. He told us to go away, that he hated everybody.

"I was feeling just awful 'cuz Mr. Paws was dead. I couldn't stop crying. I asked if you couldn’t fix him and you said maybe you could. That's when Lauren called."

"What did Lauren say, Honey?"

"I didn't hear, but you said she could come right over. Then you and me talked some more about Gus. You felt bad about slapping him and said you were gonna tell him how sorry you were.

"After that, you heated up soup for Gus and put it on a tray with some other things. I asked if I could take it in to him. You said okay and Mr. Paws and me carried it to. I figgered that when Gus saw how hurt Paws was he might say he was sorry. But when me and Mr. Paws went in to see Gus we couldn't believe it! There was fire and smoke all over, and Gus was glowing green! He was floating up in the air, like those bad-guy wizard guys do in the cartoons. I was scared and asked him how he could do that. He said he could do anything. That's when he saw how sick Mr. Paws looked and used his magic to fix him, just like – magic."

“Did I heat the soup in the kettle or in the microwave?” I asked.

The question took Evie by surprise and she blinked. “In the microwave, Mommy.”

“Was it thundering outside?” I pressed.

Again bemused, Evie shook her head, “No.”

“Were there any kind of noises outside at all?”

“Jes’ cars going by.”

From her answers, I reasoned that would have taken only a few minutes to have opened a can of soup and heated it in the microwave. That meant that between the time that Mantra and Evie had left Gus's room and the time that Evie returned to it, only minutes could have passed. In that very short space of time, the energy from space must have struck. The newspapers had said that it happened at about 7:12 P.M. Evie had heard no atmospheric noise, so the event apparently occurred with silence. But how was it that Mantra, who was sensitive to magical manifestations, had also been taken unawares? All I could think of was that if the energy had had anything to do with magic, it must have been a very strange form of sorcery.

Evie started talking again: "I was so afraid that I yelled for you to come, but when you got there, Gus made a big octopus monster jump out and grab you. Gus tied you up and put a gag on your mouth. A minute later, you turned into Mantra and got loose, but then Gus made a couple of big giants 'pear and they started punching you. You cut off their hands with your sword and then shot some magic at Gus, but his magic stopped yours. Then he zapped you so hard that you fell down into a big pit full of monsters."

I had heard about monsters in our home before. They materialized at Gus's command! Had he really taken out Mantra out with one “zap”? How could a novice magician have overwhelmed Mantra, who must have already assumed full battle mode? The protective shield that I habitually kept around myself during a magical duel could protect me from all but the most powerful forms of magical attack. The local Mantra must have fought the same way I did, or else she would never have survived as long as she had. Evie's description of Gus's attack would have been hard for even one like Boneyard to match. And that necromancer had been studying and practicing black sorcery for centuries. How could Gus have fought so effectively “right out of the cradle”? It had to be that his use of magic was tied into, and instantly responsive to, his imagination. In that sense, he was like an Olympian god.

“It was horrible!" Evie exclaimed. "Gus'd never acted so mean before. He wanted the monsters to eat you up! I begged him to stop hurting our Mommy, but he yelled that he had to kill you, udderwise you wouldn't let him use magic anymore. I said real quick that if he took away your mask and other stuff you'd be weak and wouldn’t be able to tell him what to do. He said okay to that. Suddenly, he made you disappear and all your armor fell down on the floor.”

It sounded like he had teleported me with mere concentrated thought. What tyro wizard could have done that? Unbelievable!

"I didn't know where you went and I was afraid that he'd disinnerated you. But then Gus went to the cracker box on the table and talked into it. I heard your squeaky little voice yelling back at him. You were inside the box, and you were even smaller than Mr. Paws!"

I couldn't suppress a shudder. So far, Lauren's account had been dead-on true.
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TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9