Chapter 105 (1/2)

The city was beautiful at night. Dan's neighborhood was sat on the side of a hill overlooking downtown, and the dazzling cityscape cast a broad curtain of illumination across the horizon. The stars were visible where the city light faded, their twinkling forms granting sight where there would otherwise be darkness. And high above it all, the moon loomed large in the sky, bathing the world in soft light. No one slept on a night like this.

Dan took Merrill with him into the heart of the lively city. They made for the Murphy Strip, several city blocks that made up a popular bar crawl for college students and people looking for excitement. It didn't exist in Dan's parallel, so far as he knew, and as he walked into the first of many bars, he understood why.

Austin was a city of music, and that was no different here. But there was a profound difference between music played by a baseline human, and music made by an upgraded person. Not to put too fine a point on it, but there was a reason why they were called upgrades.

Dan had never been a fan of live performances. That energy, the beat, the roar of the crowd, the bunched up bodies and excitement that permeated every movement, he'd never really felt it before.

He felt it now. It was as if a bomb made of concentrated joy had been detonated in his brain. The moment he stepped foot into the building he was bouncing to the beat. His heart pounded in tune with the music. The lyrics, incomprehensible yet beautiful, beamed themselves directly into his ears. He briefly wondered if he had accidentally taken acid, before that thought was driven away by an overriding sense of peace. He fell into the flow, swaying on the dance floor with dozens of others. Every burden, every worry, every negative feeling was driven away. Nothing mattered except the music. It was the kind of serenity that he'd always assumed was unachievable.

Even Merrill reacted to the song, crawling out of his pocket and resting on his shoulder. The little mouse stared, entranced, at the stage, barely shifting herself with Dan's movements, just enough to stay balanced.

The crowd was the same as Dan. Not raucous, but united in joy. Their movements were uncoordinated, sloppy and amateur, but they all held that same splash of emotions. That same brilliant serenity. It was intoxicating, and the world seemed to revolve around the music. A single moment and an eternity.

The feeling ended with the song, slowly dipping down and down until it had faded away completely. Dan applauded louder than any other, as the woman who led the band bowed and smiled. She was a thin slip of a woman, with bleached hair in a pixie cut. He made sure to get the band name, Selena and the Nightingales, and promised himself that he would bring Abby the next time they were playing. It was only after they began to leave the stage, that his mind began to clear.

”How does she do that?” he asked out loud, a general question to the crowd around him. He kept his eyes on the exiting form of the band, still enthralled by what he'd just experienced. Clarification wasn't needed. Nobody who had experienced what he had would ever need it clarified.

”She's got an empathic projection upgrade,” a woman answered from somewhere to his left.

Something in her explanation twigged a reaction in him. He turned to face her, briefly noting her wider than normal eyes, and slitted, reflective pupils. ”Projection? That's how she was feeling?”

The woman smiled, revealing a set of pronounced canines. ”That's what it feels like to love what you do.”

”Huh.” He turned back to the front, watching the lead singer curiously as she packed away her guitar. He'd never felt anything like that before. About anything. She was at peace. But not the relieved peace Dan felt from finally reaching safety after risking his life. Not the bubbling, fuzzy peace that came from laying beside the one he loved. Not the cold, focused peace that seized him in combat. Not even the zen-like peace that he found in the Gap.

She felt the peace of purpose. Of knowing that this was exactly what she existed to do. That this was the reason why she was here. Not just in the room, or on stage, but at all. She had found her answer to the question of 'why?' It was beautiful.

Dan had never been more jealous of anything in his entire life.

That was the feeling he had been searching for, almost his entire life. The one he'd all but given up on finding. Was it cruelty or kindness that he'd been reminded of it, here in this random bar? He couldn't decide, but he was thankful all the same. To feel it, briefly, if nothing else.

But he'd lost his taste for the bar scene.