Inheritance

susum’urda grows, you will be able to know their core self, how they interact with the external world. The ultimate goal is to see who they are as clearly as you see yourself. To share yourself with them as they share themselves with you. We will try that now. Please open your eyes.”

Reese blinked. The view of the bay was gone, and the walls undulated with a cool blue light. The color gave Eres’s skin a faint aquamarine tinge. “I’ll begin with David,” Eres said, and extended a hand to him. “If you feel yourself overwhelmed, you can always return to yourself. Remember your own physical experience. If you are focused on yourself, you will not sense the other person; nor will they be able to sense you except externally.”

Reese watched as he took Eres’s hand. A shock seemed to pass over his face as they touched, and then his mouth went slack, his eyes glazing. Reese felt as if she were intruding on David and Eres, so she looked away. All around them, the blue walls shimmered as if sunlight were pouring through the ocean. It was peaceful and buoyant and hypnotic, this sea of blue light. After some time, she heard David catch his breath, and Eres drew back.

“Now Reese,” the teacher said, holding out a hand to her.

Eres’s skin was dry and soft, and immediately Reese felt safe within the teacher’s guided touch. Eres showed her the map of Reese’s own physical experience at first: the path of blood in her veins, the movement of her muscles, the swelling and release of her lungs. It was strange to have someone revealing these sensations to her, as if shining a spotlight on each organ in succession. Reese had never been especially physically attuned to her body, and having Eres take her through it was almost like touring a foreign land. Then Eres expanded Reese’s perception, showing her the map of her body in relation to the chair, the floor, and the room itself. After that, Eres unreeled the history of Reese’s experiences, image after image, and Reese shuddered at the sensation of someone else recognizing so deeply who she was.

Now, Eres spoke in her mind, here is who I am.

This was like stepping through a doorway into a wilderness of such exotic beauty that Reese could barely focus.

Remember who you are. You can always return to that.

Reese focused on the feel of her own heart pumping; of her legs meeting the wooden seat. Bit by bit, as Reese remembered herself, Eres’s consciousness receded until Reese was able to approach it knowing who she was.

Eres had been born long ago, and was raised by three Imrians whose faces swam in Reese’s mind, at once familiar—through Eres’s perspective—and strange. Eres had grown up on a world not unlike Earth, a world of oceans on which many islands floated, their mountains rising high. Reese became aware that Eres was showing her certain images, specific memories, so that she would not drown in the flood of them, because Eres had lived many human lifetimes. It was less intimate than Reese had feared it might be, perhaps because Eres was directing her progress through those memories.

Later, you will also know how to do this, Eres told her. You will be able to order your conscious experience. You will be able to share only what you want to share, and maintain your own private conscious space if you wish.

Understanding Eres was not like hearing David’s thoughts. Reese got the impression that Eres was thinking in a language different than English, but the meaning still came through clearly.

How? Reese wondered. How can I learn that?

First, observe what I do as I close myself to you. This is what you will learn today.

Eres began to shut off the images that Reese could see. One by one they faded into darkness, and Reese saw how Eres was folding those images and experiences away until Reese could only see Eres with her eyes.

Eres let go of Reese’s hand and smiled at her and David. “Now the two of you will practice that with me. I will look into you, and you will close yourselves to me.”

Over and over, they did as Eres asked. It was similar to what Reese had done instinctually when confronted by a curious crowd, but now that she knew what she was aiming for, it was easier. She wondered if this was what Amber had done every time they had touched. How had she maintained the presence of mind to do it? The only way Reese could imagine it to be possible was if Amber had never cared that much for her in the first place. Her gut clenched as the memory of Amber in her kitchen, denying that she knew Dr. Brand, came back to her. The pain of learning that Amber was a liar had barely been dulled by time; it was still sharp as a razor.

You aren’t focusing, Eres told her.

Reese realized that Eres had sensed everything she had thought about Amber. Her first instinct was to deny her feelings; to cover them up somehow.

You cannot lie, Eres thought. You can close your consciousness to others, but you can never lie. Not during susum’urda.

I was not lying, Reese objected.

Eres guided her out of susum’urda, and then Reese felt the teacher somehow compel her to open her eyes. It was like being roughly shaken awake from a deep dream state. Eres dropped Reese’s hand, breaking their connection, and said, “When you are in susum’urda, your body will always reveal the truth. The physical actions that occur when you experience an emotion continue regardless of whether or not you want them to.”

“What?” Reese said, confused. She was disoriented by the sudden ending of susum’urda, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that Eres was disappointed in her.

“When you feel fear, for example, your body undergoes a series of physical actions. Your heart races, you might sweat, adrenaline might be released. All of these things will happen regardless of whether or not you’re able to control your external reactions. You might be able to hide it externally, but it’s still happening internally. You were trying to hide your emotions internally, but that is impossible. You were applying your human desire to hide your emotions, but in susum’urda, the person you are connected to can sense all of your internal, physical reactions. You can’t hide. You can only close off the connection.”

Reese’s gaze flickered self-consciously to David. He was watching the two of them with his forehead furrowed, as if he were trying to figure out what had happened. I wasn’t trying to hide, Reese thought at Eres. The teacher did not seem to hear, so Reese tried again, not wanting to speak out loud. I didn’t realize you were seeing everything. I wasn’t ready for you to see everything.

“Do you understand what I said?” Eres asked. “If you wish to close the connection, you may. Susum’urda is an intimate experience; you don’t need to have that with everyone. But you must understand that you cannot lie while you are having susum’urda.”

Reese realized, suddenly, that Eres had not heard her thoughts. Maybe Eres couldn’t hear her thoughts at all unless they were touching. Reese tried again. Can you hear me? But Eres’s expression did not change, and Reese felt no affirmation from the teacher. “I understand,” Reese said. “I wasn’t trying to lie. I just wasn’t ready for what you were doing.”

Eres gave her a thoughtful look. “I see. Well. I think our lesson is finished for today. I hope you’ll both remember what I told you. I look forward to next week.”

* * *

On the ferry home, Reese and David went up to the top deck, leaving David’s dad down below with a tablet loaded with Dr. Brand’s research. Outside, the wind gusted against Reese’s face as the boat left the dock. She leaned against the railing, gazing across the water at the hills of Tiburon in the distance. As David came to stand next to her, she told him, I don’t think the Imria can do what we can do. Eres Tilhar couldn’t hear my thoughts when we weren’t touching.

Are you sure?

I’m sure. I tried to communicate with her this way, but Eres didn’t react at all.

I tried too, but I couldn’t tell for sure if Eres heard me.

Reese glanced over her shoulder; there was no one on the upper deck but her and David. “What do you think it means if the Imria can’t do this telepathic thing?” she said out loud. “They gave us our abilities—why don’t