Mission Multiverse

by Rebecca Caprara

  “Seventy-six percent chance we’re doomed!” Isaiah announced loudly as he flopped onto a nearby bench. After Duna left, he’d started calculating their (steadily declining) odds of survival.

  “Optimism, Isaiah,” Maeve shot back, opening one eye. “The word of the day is optimism.” She went back to her meditations.

  A young woman with a pierced nose and a cobalt-blue jumpsuit entered the room. She looked identical to the guide who had first welcomed them to the Gwen Research Center.

  “The secretary will see you now,” she said.

  “Ari?” Dev jumped to his feet and ran to her, relieved to finally see a familiar face.

  She leaned back suspiciously. “Have we met?”

  “Yes! You greeted us at NASA today. During our field trip!”

  Her face was blank.

  “You helped us store our instruments in the old collider room.” He held up his saxophone. “Remember?”

  “I am sorry, Earthling. You are sorely mistaken.” She pointed to a nametag pinned to her lapel. It contained a lengthy string of symbols and letters in an alien language. Below that, it read in English: Ira. “Not Ari, now, am I?”

  Dev shook his head despondently. Was anyone who they seemed? He cast a long look over his shoulder at Tessa. She was undeniably pretty, but his heart didn’t skip a beat like it usually did. Now that he knew she wasn’t really Zoey, something in his heart changed.

  “You must have met one of my doppelgängers,” Ira explained.

  “Your what?” Dev refocused on the guide standing in front of him.

  “A sort of twin,” she said. “Someone who looks almost exactly like you but is entirely different. We often have doppelgängers in parallel dimensions, but I wouldn’t suggest seeking them out. If you cross paths with your dop-pelgänger in a parallel dimension, you can disrupt the space-time continuum, which can get rather … messy. Definitely not recommended.”

  “No, I’m sure it was you. It had to be!” Lewis said, butting in.

  Ira frowned. “It is quite possible you saw someone who looked like me, but I can guarantee it was not the same me who is talking to you at this very moment.” As she turned, Lewis spotted a long, spiked tail protruding from the back of her jumpsuit.

  “Oh. Never mind,” he mumbled.

  “Hurry. The council awaits. Please follow me,” Ira said. “They do not like to be kept waiting.”

  After her meditations, Maeve was feeling focused and centered. She rallied the group. “Let’s go. Aten-hut! And don’t forget your instruments.” She strode forward, back straight, just as she had led the middle school marching band into the Southern Ohio stadium not so long ago for the Soy Blossom Bowl. She held her chin high to give an air of confidence, but deep down she didn’t have the best feeling about confronting the council.

  Dev stepped forward on shaky legs, while Lewis shuffled and tapped his feet in a nervous rhythm.

  “Eighty-three percent,” Isaiah muttered under his breath, clutching his trumpet.

  Tessa lagged behind, unsure where Zoey would fit into all this. Maeve shot her a puzzled look but kept marching ahead. Tessa gripped her sister’s clarinet, feeling grateful for its weight, for having something solid to hold on to.

  The lobby doors split open with a hydraulic hiss. Two massive guards with eight legs and six beefy arms between them led a creature out of the vestibule. It struggled against electromagnetic shackles and made an angry, gargling sound. It spit green goo at the guards. One blob flew in Dev’s direction; he ducked just in time. If being a band geek had taught him anything, it was how to dodge spitballs, thanks to bullies like Gage who liked to use the back of his head for target practice during lunch. Turned out the skill set was just as useful when it came to goo-slinging aliens.

  “That Oolg lied about embezzling a shipment of thorn-melon seeds,” Ira explained. “He will serve a ten-year sentence in the Praxalis Penitentiary in Dim6. A fair punishment, in my opinion.”

  Isaiah’s eyes grew wide. “He’s going to jail for stealing some seeds?”

  “While the Station itself is a prosperous place, many planets across the multiverse are struggling. Famine, drought, and blight are becoming more widespread. Only a few crops can grow in increasingly harsh climatic conditions. You Earthlings should understand this as well as any.”

  Maeve nodded, thinking wistfully of their old farm.

  Ira continued, “The theft is bad in itself. What’s worse is that he lied about it. Members of the MAC take a solemn truth oath; our partnerships are built on trust. Honesty is a critical component of diplomacy. Especially in these uncertain times.”

  Tessa felt as though the words were directed to her. A hard lump formed in her throat.

  “Please excuse me for a moment,” Ira said. She crossed the room and began entering a code into a wall-mounted console.

  Isaiah turned to his friends, panic smeared across his face. “If that’s the punishment for swiping some seeds, what do you think they’ll do to us? We stole a freaking rocket ship!”

  “Calm down,” Maeve whispered. “It wasn’t a rocket. And we didn’t steal anything. We accidentally accessed a top secret quantum collider and initiated a cross-dimensional Transfer. That’s all.”

  “Yeah.” Isaiah rolled his eyes. “ ‘Cause that sounds a whole lot better.”

  Dev bit his lip and looked around. “I’m not sure the whole fake it ’til we make it thing is going to work so well after all. If the councilors start questioning us, we should be on the same page.”

  “Good point. We’ll tell the truth: It was all Lewis’s fault,” Maeve said.

  “Hey!”

  “You are the one who got us into this mess,” Maeve replied, anger welling up.

  “I did not!” Lewis scoffed.

  “Did too!” Maeve stomped her foot, losing her cool. “You were, like, ‘Come this way. There’s an epic DJ booth with a disco ball!’ ”

  Lewis threw his hands up. “Well, there was a disco ball, wasn’t there?”

  “Sure, one that shot lasers and nearly obliterated us!” Maeve snapped. So much for her peaceful meditations.

  Isaiah shrugged. “She has a point.”

  Just then, a loud beep sounded and a set of doors parted. The cadets were shuttled into a large vaulted chamber with carved moonstone walls and thousands of interlocking triangular screens arching overhead. Each panel glowed, shifting from color to color before settling on a warm, pearly hue. A few larger panels were transparent. Through these, the kids caught glimpses of the sky beyond. For a moment, Maeve half expected to see the Conroy skyline, or the cornfields of her old family farm. Instead, the view was an endless expanse of the emptiest, blackest black. Unlike normal windows on Earth that tended to let light in, these seemed to suck all light out.

  A varied assortment of alien, cyborgian, and humanoid creatures sat in rows of high-backed metal chairs that curved around a circular pedestal, atop which sat Ignatia in her indigo robes and the other delegates. The kids recognized Shro and Quirg, and of course Duna.

  “Enter, Earthlings!” Ignatia’s voice echoed off the walls. Floor lights flickered, illuminating an aisle leading from the entry to the central podium.

  The cadets were frozen, clumped in the doorway, stunned by the array of faces in the crowd.

  Ira leaned in and whispered kindly, “Go ahead. The secretary doesn’t bite.” She gave them a gentle nudge. “But the Vermaskians and Izoxis most definitely do. Steer clear.”

  “And I thought getting called into the principal’s office was bad.” Lewis hunched his shoulders.

  The secretary rose to her feet, the corkscrewed horns protruding from her temples turning from ivory to sapphire. She looked the children up and down.

  “I am relieved to see that you are feeling better and that you have recovered from your inaugural Transfer. Now, we invite you to take the stage and present your case to the council and constituents from across the multiverse.”

  Maeve was torn, her head spinni
ng with the enormity of the task at hand. Lie or tell the truth? Lie or tell the truth? Benni’s advice popped into her head: Choose truth over theater. Unless theater is your truth. She never shied away from a chance to shine, but this felt too big, even for the most seasoned performer. Even though she wanted to believe what Duna had said about fate …

  She stepped forward. “Your Eminence, thank you for welcoming us onto Station Liminus. I speak on behalf of all my fellow bandmates, er, Earthlings, when I say how totally amazing it is. We really, um, respect what you’re all doing here. Our planet could learn a lot from the peaceful diplomacy and spirit of collaboration you’ve got going on.”

  She took a deep breath and stole a look at the others. Lewis flashed a big thumbs-up. “You’re killing it!” he whispered encouragingly. Clearly, he had already moved past their spat. She smiled back. She straightened her shoulders. Her nerves were settling. She could do this.

  “While we are grateful for this opportunity, and for your hospitality, we need to tell you all something.”

  Duna shook their head ever so slightly, as though trying to discourage Maeve from the misstep she was about to take.

  “I regret to inform the council that my peers and I traveled here today by mistake.”

  A hush fell over the crowd. “Mistake?” Quirg asked, cocking his head to the side. “Or false pretense?”

  “I promise you, we meant no harm. None at all. I don’t even fully understand how this happened, but it seems we arrived here in error,” Maeve said, smoothing her mesh suit and exhaling.

  Murmurs and agitated chatter erupted throughout the chamber.

  “Silence!” Ignatia boomed. “Why did you not say something sooner?” She leaned forward, her violet eyes flashing with intensity as though she were seeing the cadets in a new light.

  “We sort of tried to, but we were so overwhelmed and confused. We didn’t even realize what was happening with the collider until it was too late.”

  “Too late?” Quirg scratched his chin. “Too late indeed.”

  “We thought about playing along, but Ira told us how much the MAC values honesty, so we felt it only right to—”

  “I have heard enough.” Xol hissed angrily. “These Earthlings are deceitful! They mock our protocols. They insult our intelligence. They waste our time!”

  “No! Can’t you see? She was trying to do the opposite!” Tessa pleaded in Maeve’s defense. Maeve shot her a grateful but worried look.

  Ignatia moved across the raised platform, her heels clacking a sharp rhythm on the floor. “I had hoped your first encounter with the council would proceed in a very different manner. I am deeply disappointed in your conduct.”

  “This sounds a lot like the lecture my dad gave me when I didn’t make the lacrosse team last season,” Lewis grumbled, looking down at the ground.

  “The MAC will need to review your case, but based on your confession, your actions appear to be in direct violation of numerous interdimensional laws.” Ignatia proceeded to recite a dizzying list. “How do you plead?”

  “We’re innocent,” Maeve replied. “I told you, we made an honest mistake.”

  “Mistake or not, you have jeopardized the integrity of a highly critical operation and wasted valuable resources, not to mention the time and energy of our esteemed council members, as Xol pointed out,” Ignatia said.

  Maeve used her most mature voice, projecting loud enough for all to hear. “We sincerely apologize. I’m sure we can fix this.”

  “Not likely.” The secretary pursed her lips. “Unless you possess a cache of regenerex ores?”

  Maeve frowned, her veneer cracking. “Um, no.”

  “Can you reconfigure an eight-cylinder celestial ceraboard terracraft?” Ignatia probed.

  “I don’t even know what that is,” Isaiah said.

  “Can you cultivate lunvar seeds in arid pegolith soil?”

  Dev gulped. “Not likely.” He thought about his mother’s backyard greenhouse. She’d let him grow pea sprouts in there once, but they’d all died. He hadn’t inherited her green thumb, that was for sure.

  Ignatia pressed on. “Can you calculate the algorithms necessary for—”

  “You lost me at algorithm. I’m flunking out of seventh-grade geometry,” Lewis replied.

  “Is there anything useful you can do?” a six-limbed member of the council asked.

  “Well, yeah,” Lewis said brightly. “Like we told you before, we can play music and dance at the same time. It takes real skill. In fact, we recently took second place in the annual Southern Ohio Soy Blossom Bowl marching band competition!”

  “Second place? Impressive,” Shro said mildly, steepling his slender fingers.

  “Let us show you,” Lewis offered, sporting a wide, proud smile. “We’ll have this place moving and grooving in no time.”

  Tessa felt panic rise up and wash over her like a wave. There was no way she could play Zoey’s clarinet. She would be discovered as an imposter … and then what?

  Thankfully, the secretary replied, “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Ninety-four percent chance we’re doomed,” Isaiah whimpered under his breath.

  “Fine, then just send us home,” Lewis said, feeling dejected. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted to play some video games and sleep in his own bed and wake up to the smell of bacon frying in the kitchen. Even a smackdown from his older brothers would be better than this.

  Maeve regained her composure. “Exactly. We’ll gladly go back, and the special, super talented Earthling grownups can come in our place to help save planet Earth.”

  Lewis offered Maeve a fist bump. “Boom! Problem solved.”

  The secretary’s expression curdled. “While I appreciate your honesty, that cannot happen.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Unfortunately, the portal you triggered was damaged during your Transfer, rendering a return journey impossible.”

  The cadets glanced at one another. They had pressed quite a few buttons trying to override whatever autopilot sequence they’d accidentally activated.

  “We can take a different portal, then. We don’t mind. Even if it’s the scenic route, or whatever,” Tessa replied.

  “Do you really think it’s that simple?” Quirg sneered.

  “Your actions disabled all of our communication lines with Dim14. And only a handful of portals exist linking your planet to the Station. All of them appear to be inactive at this time. Councilor Finto himself was unable to join you for this reason.”

  Dev blurted out, “We’ll help repair them!”

  “With what? A flaxophone?” said Bo’lar, gesturing to Dev’s instrument.

  “No, but I’m pretty good with electronics. And Zoey knows how to code. Maeve’s a natural leader. And Isaiah takes really detailed notes. And Lewis, well, Lewis provides lots of entertainment.”

  “Dang right I do.”

  “We could work together …” Dev’s voice trailed off as he realized how silly it all sounded. How insignificant their contributions would be.

  “I vote to get rid of them as soon as possible. They’ve seen too much of the Station and our proprietary technology!” an angry council member said. “How do we know they’re not spies? Shape-shifters have attempted to infiltrate the Station before. Remember?”

  “I do. And I understand your concerns, but we had the Earthlings scanned earlier,” Shro responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They are nothing but regular, non-modified human Earthlings. Harmless. Completely ordinary and unremarkable in every way.”

  “Exactly,” Lewis agreed. “We are completely—hey, wait a minute …”

  “I vote to Release them!” a council member barked.

  “Yes!” Maeve nodded. “That’s a great idea. Release us! I feel like this conversation has come full circle.” She took a deep breath. “Fantastic. So, we’re all in agreement?”

  Ignatia arched an eyebrow. “We do not take decisions of this magnitude lightly. I call for an off
icial vote.” She scanned the rows of agitated council members before settling a pitying gaze on the cadets. “Guards! Lead the Earthlings to the central holding cell until further notice.”

  30

  EARTH

  Following careful instructions from Dr. Khatri, Mrs. Minuzzi made the first phone call to the families of the missing children.

  “I didn’t give Isaiah permission to stay overnight,” Sylvie Yoon said, trying to keep her panic at bay. “This activity is not a good idea for someone like my son. Please, could you put him on the line. I’d like to make sure he understands what a sleep study entails.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Yoon. But Isaiah is currently in the middle of, um, an orientation meeting.”

  “You don’t understand. He has … nightmares. Night terrors, actually. I worry that if he is in the company of others, his dreams could cause a disturbance. I just don’t feel this is the right choice for my child.”

  “We understand your concerns. But please think of this as a learning opportunity for him.” Mrs. Minuzzi went on to read the script Dr. Khatri had provided.

  After a few more minutes, Sylvie hung up the phone. She had agreed to let Isaiah participate in the study, but she was uneasy. Was Isaiah angry at her for calling the grief counselor? Was this an act of tween rebellion? She and her son hadn’t been apart for a single night since last September. She knew he was probably in good hands, but her heart was heavy with worry.

  Lewis’s mother, Elise Wynner, got the next call.

  After a brief discussion, she said, “Thank you for calling, Mrs. Minuzzi.” She hung up the phone feeling quite pleased.

  “Who was that?” Kingston asked, shoveling a forkful of meatloaf into his mouth.

  “Your brother’s teacher. Lewiston was invited to participate in a sleep study at NASA. He’ll even get extra credit.”

  “Huh? He gets extra credit for sleeping? No fair!”

  “Apparently it was an honor to be selected. Your father will be so proud.” She beamed. “It seems Lewiston actually won the field trip after all.”

  As soon as their mother left the room, Kingston turned to Winston. “Let’s raid baby brother’s room while he’s gone.” Kingston grinned wickedly. “I bet he’s got a bunch of money saved in that piggy bank of his.”