Free Kill Switch by Jonathan Maberry Page B

said, and Greene could almost see the word click into place in the boy’s mind. He would never need to ask for the word again. “Statues, too, and icons. All of that.”
    â€œIconography,” said Greene.
    Prospero nodded, filing it away. “People who see spiritual beings like these need to give them form or they can’t think about them. So they paint them and draw pictures of them so they can think about them without going crazy.” Prospero’s hand strayed to his gray hood and touched the twisting tentacles. “Me, too, I guess.”
    â€œAre you saying that the creature you drew is one of these ‘beings’?”
    â€œYes. No. I mean, it’s not one of the Elder Things, but’s part of that same world. Or … same universe, dimension. It’s hard to explain.”
    â€œBut this is something from your imagination.”
    â€œNo,” corrected Prospero quickly. “It’s from my dreams.”
    â€œWhich amounts to the same thing. It’s a monster.”
    â€œDoc, why do people believe that the things we see in dreams aren’t real?”
    â€œSome of them are,” conceded Greene, “but many dream images are metaphorical in nature. They represent other things. We talked about sexual imagery and—”
    â€œNo,” said Prospero firmly. “That’s not what I’m talking about. You’re supposed to be smart, Dr. Greene. Don’t go getting stupid on me now.”
    Greene nodded, accepting the rebuke.
    â€œI’m asking you a serious question,” persisted the boy. “But … let me put it another way. And you know I’m talking about the things I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I know they’re real, even if you and my dad don’t believe it. No, don’t lie. Please. I can see it in your face. You think I’m crazy, and maybe I am—by your standards, by human standards—but I know that what I see aren’t dreams, they’re visions. Like race memory for people like me.” He paused. “Let me ask you a different question, okay?”
    â€œOkay,” said Greene.
    â€œYou know that I’m really into quantum physics. You know that I understand it. It’s not a hobby and we both know that up here,” he paused and tapped his skull, “I’m a lot older than my age. We know that, right?”
    Greene nodded.
    â€œOkay,” said Prospero. “In quantum physics, in superstring theory they talk about how there are more than four dimensions. More than height, width, depth, and time. That’s part of superstring theory, that the universe is much bigger and more complex than even Einstein thought. So, go farther. What if there are an infinite number of dimensions? What if there are an infinite number of realities? Parallel worlds, each one separated by differences however minuscule or massive.”
    â€œAn omniverse,” said Greene, nodding again. “It’s an old concept.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Prospero, excited. “You do understand. Cool. Now … what if it’s not a theory? What if that’s true? What if there is, in fact, an infinite number of worlds, and if those worlds are—as some people believe—right next door to us, then imagine what would happen if we could build a doorway, a kind of gate, that would allow us to move back and forth.”
    â€œTo what end?”
    â€œThat’s what Dad asked me and I’ll tell you what I told him. It pissed him off, so let’s see what it does to you.”
    â€œI’ll be sure to listen with an open mind,” said Greene.
    They smiled at each other for a moment. Genuine smiles on both sides.
    Prospero said, “If there are infinite worlds and if through quantum physics and the science of superstring theory we can access them, then why would we need to ever fight another war?”
    â€œI don’t follow. How does one