Second
Sight Maximilian Pereira
AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd. 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 USA www.authorhouse.co.uk Phone: 0800.197.4150
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © 2014 Maximilian Pereira. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Published by AuthorHouse 10/20/2014 ISBN: 978-1-4969-9421-9 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-4969-9422-6 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014918534 Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock. This book is printed on acid-free paper. Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
To my wonderful wife Catherine: without you, this would not have been possible. You continue to be my inspiration.
Prologue
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A cool brisk breeze nuzzled at the boy’s face as he lay in blissful slumber, gently drawing him away from sleep’s sanctuary. As his eyes reluctantly opened, he became aware that his surroundings were unfamiliar. The panic one would expect to ensue was not forthcoming; instead, a quiet acceptance pervaded his being. He was in a bed, not his own. To his left was a cold, black metallic wall that stretched off into the distance beyond. Lying on his back, he craned his neck to observe beyond his feet, but only darkness greeted him. The ceiling was indiscernible; in fact, the only source of light came from a doorway located a few meters to his right. As his eyes adjusted to the light, the boy noticed a man standing calmly by the foot of the bed. The man was tall, slender in stature, and dressed in black from head to toe. His hair was jet black, straight, and slicked back in a neat fashion reminiscent of those classic movie mobsters of the 1930s. His skin was pale and had an unnatural pallor; his eyes were dark, intense, and authoritative, yet somehow they conveyed warmth. His features were unremarkable, nothing readily identifiable setting him apart from any other man; however, the boy could not ignore the overpowering vii
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presence the man commanded. Emotions awoke within the boy; he felt a sense of paternity from the stranger, all the while remaining completely cognisant of the fact that the man bore no resemblance to his father. “Come. We must go. We have a lot to do.� The man’s voice was soothing and kind. The boy slowly eased his way out of the bed, and placed his bare feet on the cold, unflawed, black metallic surface. Rising to his feet, he could now see that the breeze that had awoken him was coming from the open doorway. It was fresh, and it revived him, awaking pleasurable memories and putting him at ease. Questions began to course through his mind as the man strode purposefully toward the doorway. Without apprehension, the boy followed suit, taking note of the trust this man engendered. They both descended a few steps, towards a walkway fashioned from the same material as the room they had just exited. It was a few metres wide and led towards a circular structure made from what appeared to be black glass. On top of this cylinder, a shallow metallic dome glistened in the brilliant sunlight. With an uneasy certainty, the boy realised that the man was no longer at his side. The boy had been so enthralled by the shining spectacle of the structure ahead that he had failed to notice where the man had gone. Where was he? Should he proceed ahead to the mysterious structure or return to the room they had just exited?
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He decided to proceed, and as he approached the glass, it became more transparent, revealing people sitting at tables in deep contemplative discourse. Upon reaching the perimeter, the glass quietly parted before him, not unlike an automatic sliding door. The occupants’ hushed tones were now audible; they were men and women of all ethnicities and ages. No one looked up or interrupted their conversations to notice the boy, now standing at the open entrance to their domain. Unsure of himself, the boy took a step back, and the black glass effortlessly resealed itself. Driven by curiosity, the boy moved carefully to the side of the walkway and peer over the edge for the first time. The sight that greeted him was shocking to say the least; the man in black was floating in mid-air, smiling, and waiting some distance beneath him. More shocking than this spectacle, as the boy observed in disbelief, was that he could see clouds floating beneath the man. Quite clearly, between the breaks in the cloud cover, he could see the earth miles away – land and ocean in all its vivid glory. “We need supplies for our journey!” The man said loudly, beckoning to the boy and inviting the boy to join him in what could only be described as a flight through the stratosphere. How could he breathe? Why wasn’t he cold? Undeterred and instilled with an irrational sense of trust in this stranger, the boy dismissed his questions. He climbed off the edge of the walkway, much in the way a new swimmer alights tentatively into the deep end of a pool ix
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for the first time. Before he knew it, the man had the boy’s hand in his, protective and firm. The sense of freedom the boy felt as they glided through the air was indescribable. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cold air rushing against his face. He was soaking in every moment of the surreal experience, giving in to the new reckless abandon that overwhelmed his being. Time was an abstract concept; it had no bearing on his experience. As the wind slowly dissipated, and eventually ceased, the boy opened his eyes to ascertain the cause of the atmospheric change. Again, he was startled as he observed that they were in what appeared to be an ordinary store, standing in front of an equally ordinary shop counter, tended by an elderly woman. Did they materialize here? Did they fly through the door? The laws of physics were seemingly being dismantled. The woman had a friendly countenance akin to a warm, loving grandmother. She and the man exchanged knowing glances and, without saying a word, smiled at each other as they turned their attention back towards the bemused boy. “I don’t have any money for supplies. All I have is this broken ruler!” the boy stated matter-of-factly, instantly becoming aware that the ruler he now offered as tender had been used the night before in a geography exercise for school. This must be a dream, he thought to himself. Once again, the man and the woman exchanged glances and smiled warmly at each other, and without a word, the man again took the boy’s hand firmly in his. x