by Corin Cain
How did they open the portal?
I think, and think, and think. I’ve been trying to figure it out for twelve years. Then it hits me. The portal shimmered with the same light as their weapons, which all had tiny black orbs in the hilts.
Orbs! Orbs are the key!
I open up my online banking and check my funds. I can get three million liquid cash by tomorrow. That’s just a start. I’ve got lines of credit available that are deeper than most businesses.
But I need more information. I pick up my phone, scrolling through the contacts and placing the call. I’ve already conjured the scenario to get our firm’s lead private detective agency to do what I need them to do.
“Aubrey. What do you need?” Jed’s voice is curt, but not unfriendly. The former Marine’s gruffness just means he’s busy.
“Something personal. I’m going for a huge contract with a risk profile a little out of our range. This is a long shot, and I’m pursuing it without the partners’ knowledge. It doesn’t carry risk to our professional relationship with you, but I need to move without red tape. Can you do it for me?”
“Of course.”
I pace as I talk. “I need you to look at the following. Abductions with three assailants, and alternative energy that use the keywords: orbs, circle, ball – or anything else related to those words.”
It’s a strange request. There’s a pause on the line.
“Who do I bill it to?”
“Me. Personally. At 15% over normal rate for speedy delivery.”
I lick my lips nervously. I need him to get this done yesterday.
“Aubrey, this is an unusual request. Can you give me more information? Without context, this sounds like two wildly different investigations. My only speculation is that you want information about an alternative energy-related kidnapping. Is this a national defense contract?”
I run my tongue on the insides of my teeth. The story I tell has to be precise.
“Specifically, abductions with three albino men with tribal tattoos.”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
I shake my head, though I know he can’t see me through the phone. I could link him to the Reddit thread, but I need to know how seriously he takes my request. If his initial information doesn’t bring it up, I know he’s not the man for the job.
“I don’t joke, Jed – not when money’s involved. I brought you into my firm four years ago. How much have you billed us since then?”
He pauses, calculating. “Six million dollars.”
“Six million, three hundred, and sixty-four thousand dollars. That’s what you earned in the last four years, because I brought you in. This assessment is of utmost importance. I need you to devote an entire team to it. I need results yesterday, do you understand?”
My voice is raised – high-pitched, and urgent. I calm myself with deep breaths.
“Of course,” Jed responds. “I’m on it. Email me any more pertinent details if they become available.” The line goes dead.
All the dullness is gone from my eyes. All the fog of the last twelve years, moving through life without purpose, is cleared. My eyes are wide open now, and I feel like someone dropped icy, cold water on me.
The next call is to my bank, opening every line of credit available to me, and liquidating a litany of investments. The financial advisor tries to talk me out of the move, explaining that I’ll be killed on early redemption fees, but I don’t care. None of that matters. Why would I need money when I have Stryker, Haleon, and Brigg?
They’re galaxies away – perhaps not even in the same reality – and yet I swear I can feel their love; undying and so deep in my heart that it never left me after all these years.
And if I miraculously go back and they’ve moved on? How can I expect those men not to have spent the last twelve years finding multiple replacements for me? What if I arrive and they’ve got themselves a harem of young, beautiful, fertile women attending to their every need?
The thought rankles in my mind, but there’s nothing I can do. I have to take the risk. I’ve regretted coming back to New York every day for the last twelve years.
When Joshua got married within six months of meeting his new girl – especially after he couldn’t commit to me after nearly a decade together – I didn’t even feel anger. I felt nothing. The emptiness of my life has remained constant and never ending…
…but now I know how to end it.
For the first time in twelve years, I feel… something.
I feel… alive.
“Stryker… Haleon… Brigg… I’m coming for you,” I whisper, though even a day ago I would have called myself delusional to have uttered such words.
Now I’m resolute.
My phone rings. It’s the office.
I let it go to voicemail.
13
Aubrey
Fourteen voicemails are unread on my phone. I only notice them because I glance at my iPhone for the time. Every available surface of my penthouse is now covered in news reports and printouts, and it’s only going to get worse when Jed sends me his information.
I rush back to the living room to read the second report I’ve uncovered, about three men grabbing a woman. I scan over the details, shaking my head as I realize it was a cartel related kidnapping. The tattoos were gang-affiliated, and not tribal. With a scowl, I grab the paper, crumple it into a ball, and toss it into the garbage – where it joins countless others.
Then I rush back into the kitchen, where I scan through page after page of conspiracy theory on infinite energy sources. None are useful.
The doorbell rings. For the strangest moment, I imagine Haleon, Brigg, and Stryker on the other side. Yet, they seem the type to kick the door down, not wait patiently on the other side. I press my eye to the peephole and my heart sinks.
It’s John Gold, the other founding partner of our firm. I realize I’m disheveled and haven’t showered in a couple days. I can’t let him see me like this.
I pause, hoping for a foolish moment he’ll simply leave.
“Aubrey, I know you’re in there. I saw your car in the garage.”
I could be out for a walk, couldn’t I? No, that wouldn’t matter. John’s relentless. It’s why I chose him to start a firm, right? He’ll just sit and wait in his car outside until he gets let inside – all night, if that’s what it takes.
“Give me a moment!” I yell, and rush to the bathroom – staring, wide-eyed, at my disheveled hair. I look like absolute garbage.
On the plus side, I’m pale and sickly, my face flush. I could pull off having the flu. I pull a housecoat around myself and walk back to the front door. I’m about to open it when I freeze.
Fuck. If I was sick, I would have told them and taken medical leave. John’s as smart as a whip. He’ll see right through this.
I choose another angle and open the door.
John stares at the huge mass of papers that litter my apartment. He’s about to step in, but I move slightly to block him, and I put my hand up.
“What the hell is this? You’re a founding partner. You can’t just disappear! We’ve got the Lawson case on Friday, and we need you in the office!”
“I know. I know. Look, John, do you trust me?”
He pauses. I take offence.
I’ve been working harder than anyone else for years, and he’s getting nervous over a couple days off? Channel that.
“When I came to you to start this firm you were pushing fifty, and you stopped being hungry at forty. You were content. You would have stayed in your comfort zone, retired at sixty with a nice home and your nice wife, and regretted every next day for the rest of your life that you didn’t go for more.”
John bristles. “What does that have to do with you disappearing and leaving us to pick up the pieces?”
I still don’t let him in, blocking him with my body. His sharp, tailored suit is a direct contrast to my frizzy hair and terrycloth robe, which is pulled tight around yesterday’s clothes.
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“Do you remember my obsession when we started the firm?”
He nods slowly.
That time of my life was dark. I was haunted by the memories of the three Aurelians. I could feel the love and adoration coming from them even though I knew, logically, that they had to be a figment of my imagination.
I questioned everything, and instead of turning to self-harm to distract myself from the pain, I turned to work. I put my heart and soul into starting the new firm, and I didn’t sleep for an entire week, hopped up on Adderall and caffeine.
By the end of it, I looked about as good as I do today – and yet we had our first three clients.
“I’m in that state, John. I’ve found something that’s going to take our firm to the next level. I can’t talk about it yet, and for the short term, you’re going to have to pick up the slack. I can’t waste any more time, I have to get back to work – and you have to go.”
John’s eyes light up with dollar signs. He mulls over my words, but I’ve found the right angle. He’s grown greedy, always wanting more.
“Very well. Be back on Monday, and you’d better have something incredible.”
“I will,” I reply, and close the door behind him.
I almost slam my palm against the wall in anger, but I refrain, knowing John could hear. I better have something on Monday, though, because I’m in no state to go back to work right now – and I’ll need the resources of the firm if I ever want a chance to get back to the jungle planet and forget this empty, loveless existence I’d condemned myself to for the past twelve years.
“The energy. It has to be the energy source…” I mutter to myself, already putting John and the firm out of my mind and focusing on what’s most important.
I walk to the kitchen, pouring over the documents I have piled up there.
“The Aurelians had a simple, tribal society. Primitive, but with elements of higher technology, because of those orbs that powered their weapons. If this technology existed in their world, it could exist on Earth,” I think out loud, vocalizing my thoughts as I scan yet another page on energy. The instant I judge one worthless, I crumple it up and throw it into the growing pile near the garbage can.
Then one finally catches my eye.
A comment on a new report, about a meteor that landed in Arkansas in 2003.
“I saw it before the government took it. Had these glowing rocks in it – really beautiful.” It was a comment from an unnamed eyewitness.
“Could be orbs... That makes sense. But don’t be too certain. It could be diamonds, or gold, or anything glittering and worthless.”
Imagine – me considering diamonds and gold worthless.
“It could be orbs, though,” I repeat, taking the printed news story and bringing it to the living room, where I place it in the stack of promising articles.
My phone rings. I glance at it and see Jed on the call display. I pick up immediately.
“Jed. What do you have for me?”
“Plenty. Check your email.”
I check my inbox and scan through the useless work stuff. Then, my eyes lock on a new email from Jed. I click it and speed read.
Section one is dedicated to kidnappings. None involve albinos. Two involve tattooed men, but they both happened near the southern border, where the rare kidnappings that occur are most-often drug-related. Jed also included the Reddit thread, showing me that he’s taking this seriously.
“You’ve got the kidnappings detailed in the first section. Most are cartel. One was a jealous husband who grabbed his ex-wife with his two friends. I haven’t found any links between the kidnappings, so if there’s a trend, I’m not seeing it. I also included a report on social media. We have one interesting comment on a Reddit thread about three albinos with tattoos taking a woman from New York – but, again, I only included that because of the specificity. There’s no way to contact the guy who posted it. I tried messaging him to no avail.”
“Good. And the energy report?”
I scan through the next section, which is a word document with one hundred and twenty pages of information.
“That’s where things get interesting. You wanted me to look up energy related to orbs, circles, or anything like that. I didn’t find it, but I do have a wealth of information on new government projects. One is very interesting. It’s based on nuclear power. Let me know if you have any questions.”
“Thank you, Jed.”
I hang up and stare through the Word document, speed-reading it. The nuclear power project started in 2003, and my heart beats quicker as I piece it together. The project is highly secret, without much information available, and the dates line up with the meteor that crashed in Arkansas.
Think, think! If the meteor had orbs in it, and the government found them… Then they’d have to put up a front, to pretend it was something normal…
I swallow hard. I know this is going to be a tough sell, but I’ll call a partners meeting on Monday and tell them we’re going into the energy sector. It could take decades to work up an extensive-enough portfolio to work with a project related to this government one; but I’ve already wasted twelve years. What is another decade or more, compared to that?
Besides, all I need is to get close enough to this project that I can gain access to their lab and see the project with my own eyes.
Then I’ll know for sure – one way or another.
I walk to the bathroom and splash cold water onto my face, looking at myself in the mirror. I can see the whites of my eyes about my irises, and I know how insane I look.
But my skin is smooth. Whatever is pulling the Aurelians and I closer together is slowing the aging process. It might take me twenty, thirty, or forty years, but I will have the time. I’ll work my way into the legal department of the alternative energy section of the government, and I’ll see for myself if it truly is an orb – no, an Orb, a proper noun, as the Aurelians described them – that powers their project.
The hint of a smile forms on my face. My adrenaline flows like never before.
“Stryker, Haleon, Brigg… I’m coming,” I say out loud.
I walk back in a trance to re-read the article about the meteor. I gasp audibly as I see what I missed.
“The meteor is now displayed in the Tech and Science Museum in Little Rock, Arkansas.”
Oh, my God! Why wait decades, when I have the Internet?
I don’t waste a second.
I grab my laptop and book the next flight to Arkansas. I pack lightly, pulling a few days’ worth of clothes at random and stuffing them willy-nilly into the first suitcase I pull from my closet. I take a cab to the airport within the hour.
14
Aubrey
The plane touches down, and if you needed proof of how obsessed I am about this mission, it’s worth nothing that I even forgot to be anxious about flying. I usually have to pop a couple of Ativans before take off. Today, I’m finally doing something – and subsequently, my pointless anxiety is eclipsed with the audacity of hope.
But at the same time, I know that the moment I stop to think – for even a second – how crazy all this is, I’ll falter.
Some random person saw something shiny, and I’m suddenly dropping everything to take a flight to Little Rock. Just imagine, if I hadn’t seen that Reddit post, I’d truly think I was insane.
I check into a cheap, but clean Quality Inn in the heart of Little Rock.
The lady at the front desk says something about a swimming pool, but all I can think of is the Tech and Science Museum. I dump my things down next to the bed and take the longest, hottest shower of my life, my mind racing as the steam envelopes me.
This truly is insane.
On paper, I’m forty-four – and I should know better.
But on the inside? I still don’t feel a day older than when I went through that portal, as if time froze and my entire life has been on standstill ever since I made the choice to leave. At the time, I’d thought I was making the selfless choice to le
ave, instead of burdening the three Aurelians with a barren woman…
…but now? Now, I don’t care how selfish I am. I crave them, and the knowledge that those three warriors are real, and not just a figment of my imagination, has opened my eyes to the futility of my existence back here on Earth.
Everything I’ve worked for is dust – meaningless.
There’s no time to waste. I get dressed and take a cab to the Tech and Science Museum. The cab driver is chatty, but I can’t make out a word he’s saying. All I can think about is seeing the asteroid and uncovering the truth.
And if there’s nothing there? Step two will be to move my firm into the alternative energy sector. If in another ten years I still haven’t aged, I’ll know for certain that I’ve been utterly changed – and I need to do something about it.
My hand shakes as I purchase an admission ticket to the museum.
“Enjoy your visit!” The pimpled young man smiles as he waves me through the turnstile.
“Where is the meteor?” I demand, my eyes narrow.
“Exhibit twelve, just that way. I prefer to end on that exhibit, because otherwise you miss all the…”
He trails off when he sees I’ve already strode away.
I don’t care. All I care about it seeing it.
I rush to the exhibit, and disappointment grabs me as soon as I see the meteor tucked away in a corner, past some pictures and facts about the moon landing.
I walk to it, and the rock is only the size of a large dog. There’s a small list of facts about it, printed on a panel.
This meteor fell in October, 2003. It has a mineral composition high in ferrite.
That’s it.
I feel so foolish for coming here.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” I mutter under my breath, wanting to smash the glass open with my hand and feel the sting of broken glass against my skin.
