The Best of All Possible Worlds

by Richard D. Parker

  Carmichael shook his head in mock concern. “Yes…it’s been naggin’ at me as well.”

  “Adam Dawkins has your car,” Collier said suddenly. “What kind is it? We can find out on our own soon enough, but it would be in your best interests to cooperate fully, that is of course, if you’d like to stay out of prison. I hear they have a nice one just up the road a piece in Marion.”

  Carmichael didn’t blink, his smile did not falter, and he remained stubbornly mute.

  “Mr. Carmichael, why did you aid Dawkins and his friends?” Collier continued trying a new tact.

  Carmichael’s smile grew wider. “Why, for the same reason you’re after them. Their special…we all know it.”

  “We?”

  “The whole building,” Carmichael answered calmly, “and you know it as well Ms…Agent, or you wouldn’t be looking so hard for the boy.”

  “We will find him,” Collier added leaning threateningly over the table that separated her from the old night watchman.

  Harold nodded. “When he wants to be found Ms. Agent…when he wants to be found,” he answered confidently, the smile never leaving his face.

  Agent Garcia raised a hand to cover his smile; apparently an endless supply of money didn’t solve every problem.

  Despite Garcia’s attempts, Armstrong caught the smile. “I want answers Agent Garcia,” he said softly, his anger growing. Once again Dawkins was making him look like an idiot, which was not something Cord Armstrong could stomach. “And if you want to continue to work for this agency you’d better supply them,” Armstrong continued and then gestured toward Harold Carmichael.

  “Yes Sir,” Garcia answered, taking the threat very seriously.

  “And fly that asshole to Washington,” Armstrong said. “We’ve people who’ll wipe that smile from his face.”

  Garcia nodded as Armstrong reached over and pressed the intercom button. “Collier,” he said and without another word she turned and left Harold Carmichael to his thoughts.

  “I doubt he’ll give us anything,” Agent Rebecca Collier said as she entered the room with Armstrong.

  “Leave that to me,” he answered just as the door opened. Another FBI agent poked his head in.

  “2003 Buick regal, white…Missouri plates FA8 R2G,” he announced. “We’ve already informed the highway patrol in all the surrounding states.”

  “Very good,” Garcia replied and turned to Armstrong. “We’ll get them.”

  †

  The couple was dressed like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. The woman wore a simple flower print dress with a white apron tied around the front, while the man wore a short sleeved plaid shirt, a pair of well worn jeans and heavy work boots.

  “Pull over! Pull over!” Galen insisted happily. With a sigh, Adam did as he was instructed. His life couldn’t get any weirder…could it?

  “Been waitin’ a spell for ya,” the old man said as Adam pulled to the side of the road next to the old couple.

  “Dorothy here’s been dreaming about this day for near twenty years,” he continued without any introductions. He just chatted away like Adam was an old and trusted friend.

  Dorothy, who was a large woman, was busy fidgeting behind the old man, shifting from one foot to the other in her excitement, her gaze flitting over all of them as if searching for someone. To Adam it looked as if she was about to burst into tears…or piss herself, he couldn’t really decide which.

  “I’ve been here before,” Adam told the old man, “back when I was in college. Lightning struck that tree back there,” he added and motioned back the way they’d come.

  The old man smiled, still standing outside the car and leaning over to talk. “Why that’s been nearly twenty years I reckon, ‘bout the time Dorothy started having her dreams regular,” he said with a grin, studying the people in the back seat. His eyes landed on Galen and remained fixed for a long moment.

  “Welcome,” he said to the boy. “You’re all most welcome. You can pull around back,” he added, and Adam turned to stare quizzically at Christine, who shrugged. Adam hesitated a moment, unable to understand what was going on.

  ‘Who were these people and who the hell is Galen?’

  “Please,” Galen said and then motioned for Avigail to open the door. She did so and the two young people stepped from the car.

  Dorothy gasped, staring at Galen with a mixture of awe and happiness. “You look just the same as in my dreams,” she said excitedly and started to round the car, but then stopped again acting almost afraid.

  “Name’s Ned Newton,” the old man said. “Pull the car in back. I’ve a shed we can hide it in.”

  Adam looked over at Vio, who was watching the events with a puzzled expression, but he pulled his foot off the brake and began to slowly roll toward the driveway. Vio glanced back at Avigail and Galen, clearly concerned, but Adam reached out and touched her arm. The first contact of skin on skin was a shock to both of them and instinctively Adam jerked his hand back, but he smiled at her in any case.

  “It’s fine,” he said and pointed toward the nearby house. Vio relaxed as Adam pulled the car around back and halted between a small screened porch and a set of clothesline poles. Farther up the driveway was an enormous RV, the kind that looked more like a bus than a mobile home. He shut the car off and he, Vio and Christine climbed out, all of them stretching gratefully.

  Out front Galen was walking between Dorothy and Ned with Avigail trailing directly behind.

  “When she told me you was coming today I didn’t believe her,” Ned was saying as Adam and his group rounded the corner of the house. “We’ve been waitin’ nearly an hour out by the side of the road…neighbors must think we’ve fallin’ off the deep end.”

  “You’re name…you’re name is Gayle?” Dorothy asked tentatively as they all stopped at the intersection of the driveway and a sidewalk that led up to the front of the house and the large wooden porch.

  “No…Galen,” he corrected.

  “Galen,” Dorothy said as if trying the name on, then she hustled up to him and gave him the kind of hug only large women can give. “I knew you would come,” she whispered into his ear before finally releasing him.

  Galen remained where he was for a moment but then Avigail reached out and took his hand. The two young people smiled lovingly at each other and Vio found she was jealous of the easy way they revealed their feelings to one another. She shot a glance at Adam but hurriedly looked away when his eyes shifted toward her.

  “Come on in,” Ned said cheerfully and began walking back down the driveway. “We’ve some barbeque ready and I made a batch of homemade ice cream last night.” He led them around to the rear of the house, but frowned as he caught sight of the Buick.

  “You’ll be needin’ to park that over in the shed,” he told Adam. “Not all of Dorothy’s dreams are good ones. It’s best if we be careful.”

  Adam’s eyes widened in surprise but he did as he was told. The shed really was more of a steel barn, large enough to hold at least a half dozen Buicks. Everyone was inside the house when he emerged so he jogged over and up the back porch steps.

  “Who are you people?” He heard Christine ask as he pulled open the storm door that led to a large, old fashion looking kitchen, which sported an enormous oak table off to one side.

  Dorothy was busy stirring a Crockpot, while Ned set the table. “Hope you’re hungry,” he told Adam, pointedly ignoring Christine’s question.

  “I am,” Adam answered with a smile, “but I think my sister’s right. We need an explanation. Why were you waiting for us?”

  Ned paused in his task a moment and looked up at Dorothy, who was staring at Galen.

  “Well I suppose…” Ned began, but Dorothy hushed him.

  “I’ll tell them Ned…it’s my dream after all,” she told him, wiping her perfectly clean hands on her apron absently.

  Ned nodded and finished setting the table and he then pulled the Crockpot over, inside it was filled with steam
ing barbecued pork. Moments later the table was stocked with hamburger buns, potato salad and all manner of condiments. Nobody made any move to take anything however, as Dorothy began to speak.

  “I was ten, the first time I ever dreamed of you,” she said sitting directly across from Galen. She was looking at him greedily, as if he were indeed a dream come true. “I remember because at the time I wasn’t at all sure it was a dream…it was so real…too real. In my youth I dreamed of you off and on but like Ned told ya, ‘bout twenty or so odd years ago I began to dream of you most nights…sometimes more than once. They’ve not always been the same dreams of course, some are good, some bad, but still, dreams of you.”

  Galen just smiled and nodded his head, as if he understood completely. Ned began to fill plates automatically though he was the only one who began to eat right away.

  “You’ve been dreaming of Galen since you were ten? Every night?” Christine asked and Dorothy nodded.

  “Did you ever tell anyone?” Adam asked.

  Again Dorothy nodded. “I told my mother and at first she didn’t believe me, but later, after a year or so, she sent me to a shrink…I’m not sure the doctor even believed me after a while,” Dorothy said wistfully and took a small bite of potato salad. Her gesture galvanized the rest and soon they were all eating.

  “My dreams were usually all about love and happiness but sometimes danger,” Dorothy continued, her face turning a light shade of red. “At first I thought it meant we were to be lovers,” she admitted to Galen with a smirk. “Even though in my dreams we never actually kissed.”

  “What the hell did you dream about?” Christine asked, wondering just how and why this woman was having dreams her entire life about a boy that was largely created in a lab.

  Dorothy shrugged. “Running, hiding, talking, laughing, traveling the countryside and meeting new people…always new people…and occasionally of the bad men who were chasing us.”

  “Bad men,” Adam repeated softly as Vio took her first bite of barbeque. It tasted a little peculiar to her but overall it was good, and hot. She reached out gingerly and touched the Crockpot, curious. The sides of the pot were hot but Vio could see no fire anywhere and wondered just where the heat came from. She took another bite…this one was better, very good, not sweet like the chocolate, but good in a satisfying way. She also liked the potato salad and of course she knew what the tomatoes were, all in all she thought any place that could serve up such good food couldn’t be all bad.

  Dorothy nodded. “Sometimes I die in the dreams…sometimes I don’t, but always I’m trying to keep Gayl…Galen from the bad men. I’m always there for him and he’s there for me.”

  “Jesus…I have no idea what any of this means,” Christine barked, startling Vio and Galen for a moment. “Galen, how did you know to come here? And why are you dreaming of him?” She snapped, suddenly angry at her own ignorance.

  “I don’t know,” Galen and the large woman said in unison and smiled at each other.

  “Galen…I need some answers,” Christine implored desperately. As a scientist she was accustomed to a world that made sense and she was having a terrible time as everything around her spiraled into chaos.

  Galen looked unhappy for the first time since they arrived. “I have none to give. I don’t truly know what’s going on,” he told Christine, and she responded like a typical scientist.

  “I want to get some blood samples…from both of you,” she announced with determination, “in the morning after you’ve fasted for the night.”

  Galen smiled, but Dorothy looked horrified.

  Ned laughed at his wife. “Eat…everyone eat. We still have a lot to do before we leave tomorrow.”

  “Leave!” Christine and Adam blurted in unison. Vio chuckled at them, not understanding most of the present conversation but even she knew that this old couple was kindly and meant them no harm.

  Dorothy nodded suddenly very serious. “If we stay, then I surely die,” she confessed and Ned nodded.

  “We start out tomorrow,” he told them, “head out across country where we’ll be meeting new people, many new people.”

  Dorothy smiled at her husband and reached out and took hold of his hand, staring at him lovingly.

  “Now eat,” Ned ordered…and they did, happily.

  XIX

  “Science, not superstition, will show us the way.”

  Dr. Christine Dawkins

  April 2nd 3218 The King’s Island

  The morning was bright and sunny, with not a single blemish in the sky. Arnot stood between his mother and father nervously. Nyx, the Solitary had finally agreed to help in the attempt to open the bridge between worlds, but from her manner it was easy to see that she did not approve and would have much preferred to remain on Noble in solitude. High Zarina Monde and her most powerful Traveler, Jess na Massi were also standing by, both eager to assist in the attempt.

  “I will aid in the opening of the bridge,” Nyx said, her voice low and raspy as if these were the first words she’d spoken in years, “but I will not cross.”

  Gwaynn nodded. Even though he was High King he refused to force anyone to cross over to the other side. All those who agreed to go did so voluntarily. Surprisingly there were many volunteers. The most notable were Tar Kostek, Captain Gaston and his wife, the Traveler Laynee Gaston and the foreign man named Scott Somers. But by far the most curious volunteer, at least for Arnot, was Elin Broadlawn of the Cassinni. Everything about Elin was a mystery to Arnot. She continued to do the unexpected but what surprised Arnot the most was that she readily accepted his invitation to come to the King’s Island now that her time on Noble was over. He believed she would decline and return home to Cassinni or petition Noble for the right to continue her studies and go on to become a Tarina. Instead she accepted his invitation and they’d been together ever since, though even now her presence was a mystery to Arnot.

  “You made her your man, so to speak,” Jeffery Gaston explained to the young man, “in the kata arena. I’ll warrant she’ll follow you anywhere.”

  “Oh pooh, Jeffery,” his wife Laynee disagreed. “She’s in love, simple as that.”

  Arnot didn’t know what to make of it. He was accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him, after all he was a prince and heir to the throne of the High King, but he’d never had the attention of someone as talented as Elin focused upon him and as mother would say, “She would bear watching.”

  Lined up neatly around the field behind their King was nearly the full contingent of Temple Knights. Almost all had volunteered to make the crossing, though each knew that the prospect of returning was very slim.

  As it was, no one believed that the bridge between worlds could be held open long enough for ten thousand Temple Knights to ride through no matter how powerful the connection, but when Gwaynn attempted to exclude a portion of the Knights a great protest erupted. In the end he had to accept the presence of the entire army on the field near Northpoint, those who were able to ride through would do so, those who could not would have to accept providence. Some things were even outside of the High King’s control.

  “You,” Tarina Nyx said from just behind Arnot, “will have to lead the way. There are many times many worlds out there and to Travel to the wrong one will not save your sister.”

  Arnot nodded, growing very nervous. Zarina Monde put a light hand on his shoulder.

  “Just communicate,” she told him. “If you are certain you’ve found the right place, let us know and we will help you.”

  Arnot nodded again, but was unable to speak, anxious that his growing fear would be plain to all of them, so he remained quiet. But he was determined to succeed despite his fear. Fear would not rule him; he would not allow it to. He was currently in this mess because of one weak moment and Arnot was resolute that it would never happen again. He was no coward and he would prove it…to himself.

  “Do your best,” Gwaynn told his son encouragingly. He could sense Arnot’s nervousness but there was
little he could do. Everything was now up to his son.

  “I…I will father,” he answered and allowed his mother to reach out and take his hand. Gwaynn nodded to Arnot and gave a little smile.

  “Whenever you’re ready then,” the High King replied.

  Arnot looked to his mother then and though he knew she wanted to hug him, he didn’t allow her the chance, instead he shook off her hand and stepped forward, first two steps and then two more. Arnot closed his eyes and began the process of projection. By the time he was separated from his body there were a host of others waiting for him, including his father, Monde and her Travelers and the Solitary Nyx.

  “Now it is up to you,” the Solitary told him, her voice just as rasping coming from her projected image. “You must find the way.”

  Arnot did not comment for she was not telling him anything he did not already know, so he just turned and moved off across the field, looking for the weak points between worlds, the points his sister so easily found only weeks before.

  And surprisingly he found some, several in fact, but each time he was unsure if the way actually led to the world that now held Avigail. His search continued as he moved farther and farther out into the field and as he did so, more and more points appeared but nothing that felt familiar; there was no weak point that he could recognize, nothing he could be sure of. As time passed, Arnot grew weaker and he was unsure of his ability to find the way.

  He was quickly losing strength and would not be able to hold off the vortex that would rejoin his two halves much longer, when suddenly Nyx was there and he felt a surge of power.

  “I feel them. There are many…continue searching,” her projection whispered into his ear. Arnot did so and found world after world but not once did he feel the familiar touch of the world his sister had vanished into.

  “I can’t find it,” he yelled to Nyx in desperation. “There are too many!”

  And then Gwaynn, Monde, na Massi and Gaston were there and Arnot felt his strength swell once more. Again he began to search and again he failed, the vortex was close now for them all but still the correct world remained ever elusive. For another few minutes Arnot searched, desperately holding off the vortex, but suddenly a howling sounded in his ears and he turned to see the spinning tornado that touched his two separate selves. He could not hold the inevitable off any longer and was just about to give in to it when abruptly it was there…the world…Avigail’s world. Arnot was sure. He turned, but an unwanted bridge opened and he was snapped back, his two halves one again. Failure! Instead of Traveling between worlds he’d Traveled no more than a couple of hundred yards across the open field.