The Lightning that Jumps Between

Ten

Ethan almost worried about how gentle Karl was that night. Previously, the engineer had a rise in primal behavior, relegated to his physical relationship with Ethan–or so it seemed. Heisenberg always spent a lot of time on his own, but had begun doing so even more often with the garage's construction. Ethan had too much pride to admit that he missed the other. And his only real way of gauging Heisenberg's....instincts...were when they were physically together.

He couldn't bear to tell Heisenberg that the same name the engineer uttered with familiarity so dear, had also been on Miranda's lips. Worse, she'd called that name and Mia. What the hell was going on? The blond could only hope that his own mind wasn't as easily permeated as Heisenbergs, after Heisenberg had said the name. But the older man had changed topics again by peppering kisses along Ethan's fingers, in the hand that he held, moving up Ethan's arm and finally pulling the blond onto his lap.

They made love in front of the fire-quiet, but frantic, with the need and yet familiarity of their connection. It was as thrilling as their first time; Heisenberg's body was devoted to slowly, passionately consuming the man in front of him, and his touch was truly electric. Still, he was gentle, thoughtful, almost seeming to carry some extra weight behind his actions. Whatever they were, they were unspoken, and remained so, without his usual outlet of Ethan's body. It was unlike Karl; he put his entire soul into his physical interactions and even talked through them during sex. But he was quiet and contemplative there too.

Ethan found himself ruminating about it long after they'd moved to the bedroom, while Ethan was left alone in his thoughts, with the only accompaniment the sound of the thunderstorm and Karl's soft breaths on his chest.

He recalled, as he lay there worrying about everything, threading his fingers through Karl's soft hair, one of Miranda's notes, transcribed by Eva. He couldn't recall the note, but it beckoned to his worrying mind. It was upstairs on his desk. Ethan decided to reread it in the morning, and drifted into uneasy dreams that seemed guarded by a tall, wide figure in the shadows.

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Miranda's Diary

On Consciousness And Creation

I have been experimenting with the possibilities of manipulating and reviving the consciousnesses stored within the Megamycete. There have been many sacrifices but conscious entities still survive here.

When a person dies, their consciousness is stored and preserved, but over time it becomes diffused and diluted, spread thin throughout the Megamycete and mixed with other consciousnesses and memories. Extracting and reassembling an individual who has thus diffused has proved a monumental effort. As an experiment I decided to see what would happen if I used different individuals' consciousnesses to create an entity.

Results:

The results were fascinating. I gathered fragments, re-spooled the threads, and succeeded in creating an individual, birthed anew in this realm. A success, to be sure, but while his unusual physique resembled a man I once knew, he was possessed of a deeply warped psyche and was missing a portion of his face.

Conclusion:

While manipulating memories to create a person is possible, the creations are flawed and unstable. It will not be possible to manufacture a suitable vessel in this way.

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He had two questions, and Eva knew the answer to neither.

First–if consciousnesses became "diffused and diluted" over time, how was a man from medieval Romania still intact, speaking his own language and able to remember his own life?