The Hydrogen Theory: A Novel

Chapter 9: Affiliations

"Before we go ahead with anything, I'm going to have to know, Tyler, why ye changed ye mind. I can't go around helping someone who's not ready for the responsibility." George told Tyler, back at the Cliffs of Moher, standing close to the edge. Once again, the breeze had forced itself into their conversation, the clouds above dimmed the light.

"Well," Tyler began, "I guess I've spent a long time on my own, with nothing to take care of but myself, and no one to trust but myself." George listened carefully. Tyler continued. "And it didn't take much for me to do that. All I've ever needed to do was hide in the background. But you were right, and the others too. I don't want to one day be beside the people I care about, standing face to face with something I can't defend them from." George looked at Tyler with admiration, placing his hand onto Mason's nearest shoulder.

"That's a solid answer, fella. Noble." He responded as he led Tyler forward, walking through the waving grass.

George received Tyler's text about a day after he had sent it, As George returned back within reached of South Africa's mobile networks.

"I'm not even sure about what more you could get out of me, George. So don't get hopes up."

"Ah, friend. Someone who is willing always have more to give." He replied.

"Well, where do we begin?" Tyler questioned, as they now reached the edge of the cliffs, the wind made his choice to stay a step behind George, as he stared far down to the water of the ocean, rushing and crashing against the rocks of the cliffs. It must have been over a hundred meters down.

"Well, I used to jump off these here cliffs." George claimed, almost laughing as he did. Tyler immediately pulled his shoulder away from George's hand and moved away. This caused George's chuckling to increase.

"Tyler, I aint about to throw ye over. That wouldn't work for ye." Mason relaxed somewhat, refiguring that George had known what he was doing. "No, fella. I've got other plans for ye."

"Well, what is it?"

"The water, Tyler. The water." Which seemed to make more sense. George said this while now too staring down at the water, holding out his hand.

"If ye plan is to get ye abilities to improve, friend, then ye need to raise the expectations in ye head. And we'll start with something, familiar before continuing to push to test ye limits, if ye have any, that is." Tyler ignored the last bit, thinking that surely he could maybe add an extra ten percent or so to his abilities, at most. "How are we going to do that?" He asked.

"Well ye need to start by getting ye body in line with those expectations in ye head."

"What expectations?"

"Well, Tyler. Back when I'd be doing me practicing, I'd be jumping off this cliff, teleporting in mid-air, with the expectation in me head of where I wanted to end up." George explained. "It took me a long time but eventually it worked. It worked because body understood that the only way to move forward was to learn to speak the language of me mind's expectations."

"So what are my mind's expectations?"

"Ye don't have any. That's the problem." George claimed. Tyler looked on in confusion.

"The water." George continued.

"The water?"

"Hold ye hand out like mine." George instructed. Tyler followed. "Good. Now, that water flowing way down there, ye need to make it touch ye hand. Even if it's a drop. That's ye new expectation." George pulled his arm back and held both behind his back, signaling that he was willing to patiently wait for Tyler to achieve it. Tyler on the other hand, assumed it possible. He guessed that if he had put enough concentration into it, he could be successful.