Page 11 of Kai
I had little experience with what I’d more scientifically termed ‘aural visions,’ but I’d learned a few things since these bullshit occurrences began happening to me a couple of months ago when my grocery and algae suppliers delivered my provisions via boat. I’d also been able to find some info in the digital downloads of the Science Journals I’d stored on my harddrive before I became an island hermit.
One doctor, who specialized in brain connectivity disorders, maintained auras were mishaps, short-circuits in the visual intake process associated with migraines. This made sense, since I suffered from migraines at times. Like right now, for example. A headache throbbed behind my eyes. Maybe it was just hunger or exhaustion, but I blamed the sheer brilliance of Kai’s aura for the pain.
In dire cases, the expert attributed auras to early manifestations of severe brain disease. As I finished closing the files, I really hoped I didn’t fit into the brain disease category.
What was I if not my brain?
A person, Astor. You should think of yourself as a human being.
I snorted. I wasn’tthatwell-rounded.
I powered down the laptop. The old thing beeped and whirred, taking its sweet time going through its automated shutdown process, which included a clunky backup process to an old-fashioned data stick.
While I waited, I recalled the findings of yet a second renowned brain expert. Dr. Lopez believed auras were energy fields that emanated from all living things. Her research had proven that humans emitted measurable electromagnetic frequencies, and these explained auras. In her view, the visualizations were a guide to understanding the differences between positive and negative energy and levels of human openness, receptivity, and emotion.
At last, the damn laptop went off. I snatched the utility case from under the desk and rushed to pack my computer in the padded foam. It was stiff from lack of use. Struggling to stuff the computer in place, I thought about Dr. Lopez’s hypothesis. She believed that people who perceived auras had a specific ancient gene in their DNA that gave them the ability to identifycharacter, intention, and mood, calling it a “survival advantage.”
A survival advantage, my ass.
It was more like a pain in the ass and a complication, and yet, however weird, I couldn’t disregard the glow easily. As I forced the laptop into its slot, I recalled that Dr. Lopez associated certain colors with specific traits and intentions. Although I had a severely limited experimental pool of exactly two subjects, I had sort of, kind of, tested her hypothesis.
The fisherman who brought me fresh algae every Monday and charged me a fair price sported a yellow and neon green aura. According to Dr. Lopez, yellow meant an optimistic and positive sense of self, and green reflected kindness, compassion, and openness.
The aura of the asshole who showed up with my groceries last month and demanded a bribe to hand over the goods had been dull, gray, and brown, colors the scientist associated with negativity, selfishness, and deceit.
Kai’s aura was totally different, I realized, as I opened the drawer and scooped up a pile of thumb drives. Since I worked on an isolated island without a communication tower, data sticks were my only means of storing research information. It took me a moment to organize them in such a way that the lid would close. Meanwhile, I reconsidered Kai’s indigo and gold aura.
Dr. Lopez proposed that blue-spectrum auras were associated with communication, self-expression, integrity, and truth. She correlated the indigo that dominated Kai’s aura with intuitive thinking, spirituality, and wisdom. The brilliant gold indicated high levels of compassion, self-awareness, and a drive to seek self-improvement.
If she was right, Kai was telling the truth. The note from my sisters solidified my choice. Going with him felt like the right thing to do.
Are you relying on a visual short-circuit to make yourdecisions, Astor?
Yeah. Self-doubt was one of my many character flaws.
I really hoped I’d made the right decision.
Snatching my notebook from the desk, I added it to the case and tossed in my reading glasses as well. I grabbed the photo box on my desk, stuffed it into the already crammed case, and struggled to shut the lid.
Out of nowhere, Kai stood beside me. “Ready?”
“Shit.” I jumped three feet in the air. I hadn’t heard him return to the room.
“Sorry I scared you.” He pushed the lid down and engaged the latches. “We’ve gotta go.”
“Hurry.” I rushed around frantically. “I need to pack the microscope.”
“Excellent decision on the hurry,” the man said. “But the big-ass microscope is a no-go.”
“Why not?” I whirled to face him, ready to fight him on this.
“My transportation methods require light travel,” he explained as he lifted a watertight tactical vest from behind the threshold and strapped it on.
“It’s a very expensive microscope,” I protested.
“I can only imagine.” He tugged on the straps, then reached for a ruck also tucked behind the door. “But if you want to survive, you need to leave the microscope behind.”
The answer was yes; I liked breathing. My gaze fell on the instrument that had been my chief companion for so long, but once this gal made a decision, I was all in.
