Deirdre Chen: Saviour of the Multiverse

Chapter 11

Deirdre

Deirdre and Mengo went hurtling through a pristine white chasm. Above and below was nothing, but either side of them were these walls. It looked like someone had robbed Dixons and fitted all of these plasma screens into a row.
  It showed Deidre her entire life.
  This was a strange viewing experience for her, like 3D but more annoying, because this movie had a feature that allowed her to feel the emotions of everyone she had interacted with.
  The first few screens were her as a baby, clutching at her mum’s hospital gown. She felt the fear of a mother, of holding this vulnerable creation in your arms. Deirdre felt the weight of responsibility, felt a wave of love flow from her mother, and into her. As Deirdre grew, it was the small, uncalculated actions which carried the most importance, like the time she was playing at the park and let the boy standing behind her at the slide go first. Deirdre felt his stomach flip with excitement. She giggled at this, just as he had done.
  It was this minor action, which led to Deirdre seeing a blonde girl get pushed over by a gang of bullies. Deirdre felt the powerlessness, she felt the humiliation and loneliness, the resentment as the girl looked around and watched people doing nothing to stop it. Deirdre remembered how she ran over, feeling as if the bullies had pushed her down. She felt the wind knocked out of her when she drove her fist into one of the bully’s stomachs; her cheek burned as she crudely lashed her knuckles across the face of another. She felt the absolute terror of the other two who backed away.
  Deirdre looked down at the girl and stretched out her hand. When the girl took Deirdre’s hand, she felt a wave of love.
  “My name’s Deirdre.”
  “My name’s Cassie,” the girl replied.
  Then, in no time at all, Deirdre was clutching her mother again. She felt her mother swell with pride, that in her short time, she had given all that she had. Deirdre saw how her mother saw her: a strong girl, as capable of compassion as she was of combat, a daughter with an iron will, able to face the future.
  She felt a soul leaving a body, but this time there was no cold, or anguish because, as her mother squeezed Deirdre’s hand, her soul passed to her on a wave of love. Her mother looked over at the wall, and although Deirdre could not see what she saw, she felt her serenity. She felt the acceptance of her death. Now, Deirdre had to face that future. The events with Mengo passed in the blink of an eye, and Deirdre saw that Mengo was right; this thing does force you down a path. She felt the multiverse was in her arms, small and vulnerable. Deirdre felt the extremes of all emotions: hatred, love, pride, shame. She closed her eyes from the pleasure and agony. Deirdre did not see these moments in her life, but she knew what she’d experience. Then, the storm gave way to the sun, and she saw her.
  Deirdre was lying in a bed. A group made up of different species, had gathered round her. Deirdre felt the tingle of admiration, the admiration these beings had for her. Then when she felt a rising grief, she knew that she was witnessing her final moments. An old woman, her cheeks streaked with the trails of tears, clutched Deirdre’s hand. Wrinkled fingers interlocked with each other and Deirdre felt what it was like for a body to leave a soul and enter the body of a loved one, passing on a wave of love.
  The reel cut off because she’d snuffed it.
  Deirdre thought there’d be a few reels of black, but then again she wouldn’t be alive to see black, or any colour, or anything ever again.
  She looked over at Mengo; his reel stretched on and on. Deirdre was just seeing static, but Mengo was looking at something very different. He went from looking like a fresh Granny Smith apple to a pale Golden Delicious, and he kept saying the same four words…