Free Cosega Sphere (The Cosega Sequence Book 4) by Brandt Legg Page A

the time, centuries ago, when there were multiple Eysens still floating around out there . . . no pun intended,” he said, glancing at the Eysen-Sphere levitating above the table. “But we looked, and we found nothing. Maybe Gaines is alive but the Eysen didn’t survive?”
    “Possible, but doubtful,” Savina replied in such an assured manner that her pronouncement seemed indisputable. She’d been homeschooled, finished high school level at age twelve, and graduated from MIT at sixteen. Next was Harvard, and in between then and the Sphere, she’d worked at a number of universities, research labs, CERN, including time at the Large Hadron Collider, and even NASA.
    “So why didn’t we find it?”
    “We didn’t try hard enough,” she said absently as she peered into the center of the Sphere.
    “We spent months,” the other assistant countered.
    “I didn’t say we didn’t spend enough time, I said we didn’t try hard enough. We didn’t understand two things back then,” Savina explained, pushing her glasses on top of her head. “First, we only half believed that the other Eysen might still exist.”
    “That shouldn’t matter,” one of the assistants interrupted.
    “Oh, but it does,” she said, a subtle hint of awe in her voice. The assistants didn’t completely believe Savina’s long held theory that the Eysen was “in tune” and able to understand and react to one’s thoughts. “That’s why we didn’t get the second part,” she continued as projections of light beamed from the Eysen, showing cross-sections of the Earth, spinning, divided by levels of color in a manner they still did not comprehend. “We didn’t understand that we were not looking for something separate.”
    “What does that mean?” one of them asked while checking on the video recording equipment. They tracked and recorded the Eysen from multiple angles whenever it was “on.” The system was automated, but a few years earlier they had lost hours of crucial data to a glitch. Ever since, they constantly inspected the gear to make sure it was working. In spite of being meticulous, about once every few weeks they would discover it had inexplicably stopped.
    “The Eysens belong to the same source,” she said, as if it should be obvious. “We were looking for another one because it isn’t here, and therefore we see it as separate, but just as two particles can react when separated by great distance—”
    “Action at a distance, quantum entanglement?”
    “Yes . . . sort of.”
    “But that’s a murky area of disagreement.”
    “And the Eysen isn’t?” she asked rhetorically. “I’m saying they are one . If the Eysen-Sphere has taught us anything, it’s that it is connected to some kind of undying, recharging, enormous energy that we don’t understand. It may even be incomprehensible given the limitations of current human intelligence.”
    “And yet here we are.”
    “Right, but what did I tell you each on your first day in this lab?”
    “And you’ve told us again at least a thousand times since,” one of them said. “In fact, we should make a sign so you could just point to it.”
    “ ‘ You cannot think of the Eysen in terms of anything you understand because it is too far beyond our knowledge to apply the limitations of our understanding,’ ” they recited in unison.
    “Right,” she said. “It must show us. We’re all simply wanderers in the universe trying to find our way home.”
    “A home we don’t remember.”
    “Yes,” she said. “Whenever you hit a wall and aren’t sure what to do, stop thinking and unleash your imagination. Instead of trying to answer the question you’re working on, try to answer the question you’re about to ask. This relates to the other Eysen because it’s a piece of this Eysen.”
    “Then how many pieces are there?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her eyes and staring off into nothingness, as if contemplating that question for a moment before