“Very well,” Moriah says as the spotlight returns to her table. “But have you ever considered the logistics of this feat?”
Dezhasthought about this. She has marveled at the capacity of the human brain at the end of life, storing and unspooling such a meaningful finale.
But Moriah doesn’t let Dez answer.
“I’ll tell you,” Moriah says slowly, clearly. “When a human body dies, the process mimics sleep: the muscles of the mind slacken, the blood cools. The mind becomes more focused than it’s been since the moment of birth. This makes the dying an ideal audience, open and receptive. At a certain point, the soul begins to shimmer right above the body … and with one last rise of the electrical brain waves, life flashes before their mind’s eyes. This is their Life Review.”
“How …?” Simon murmurs.
“And every one of these films is made,” Moriah continues, “not by the dying human mind, but by a highly gifted, specially trainedfilmmaker. That’s where you come in.”
“What the hell?” Esther whispers.
“Acheron Scribes write the script the film will follow,” Moriah says. “Acheron Visionaries compile and edit the montage of scenes in the dying experience. Then, when the time is right, Acheron’s DistributionDepartment shoots the film straight into the dying cerebral cortex.” She taps the back of her head.
Dez grips the side of the table, feeling faint. She doesn’t see how the dean’s words can be true. But somehow, she knows that they are.
“We areinsideof things,” Moriah says. “We are inside humanity in a manner that might previously have been inconceivable to you. When you came here … when you joined us to help the dead … and tonight when you take the next step with us—you are in alliance with powerful friends. And you will find very little is impossible.” She pauses, surveying the first-years with a strange smile. “I’ll take questions.”
A riot of objections rise inside Dez. She never agreed to this. None of them did. If any of what the director is saying is actually real, to trick them into training for such work is sinister, deceitful.
“Why?” Dez calls out, clear and loud, before she even knows she’s going to speak. “Why did no one tell us this before?”
“For one thing,” Moriah says, “because you needed to prove through your work that you could be trusted. For another, you simply couldn’t have handled this information any sooner.”
“What if we can’t handle it now?” Simon asks.
“In dreams begins responsibility,” Moriah says. “No one asks to be born a princess either. Greatness has been thrust upon you. Forgive me if I dropped my tiny violin.”
“What is the purpose of the Life Review films?” Paul Rowan asks.
“Excellent question,” Moriah says. “The dead cannot move on without them. Our films enable the soul’s transition into death by framing mortal lives with meaning. Souls require meaning for completion. Nothing is more profound than closure.”
“What happens when the movie’s over?” Esther asks.
“When it’s over, the human soul enters the White Light.” She looks around, taking in their faces with some satisfaction. “Yes, thatpart’s true as well. There really is a tunnel of White Light awaiting all mortal souls.”
“Heaven?” a first-year asks from the shadows.
Moriah pauses for a moment but doesn’t answer. “Without our films,” she finally says, “the dead can’t evenfindthe White Light.”
Dez’s limbs feel numb, her breath shallow. She’s thinking of the phrase the director keeps using.The dead. The dead. The dead.A chill spreads through her, seeps down to her bones.
Shakily, she rises to her feet.
“Sit down, Ms. Rae,” Moriah says.
Dez can’t sit down. She’s disassociating. She can barely feel herself move.
“Moses,” she whispers hoarsely.
She feels eyes fall on her, the director’s, the last-years’. She sees Rafe finally step out of the shadows, his eyes on hers like he’s seen a ghost. A brick takes shape in her stomach.
“Sit down,”Moriah barks. The snake hisses. “Everyone finds this disturbing at first. But death happens. It is the nature of things.”
“No,” Dez whispers. She grips the edge of the table. Her fear weighs a metric ton inside of her. She can’t let herself believe it. Even if this place does make Life Review films, even if it does somehow magically shoot them into the minds of the dying,herfilm is different. Her secret assignment. Only a practice run.
Surely.
