“Ack! Those are still alive!” Tessa replaced the cloche quickly before the meal made a run for it.
The kids gathered round and dug in, gorging on sweets and savories. The flavors and textures of the multiverse delighted (and occasionally disgusted) their palates. Duna was pleased to see them enjoying themselves.
“Thank you for all this,” said Tessa, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “After a rough day, this is such a treat.”
“My pleasure.” Duna smiled. “Oh! And I almost forgot to show you the spa.” They crossed the room and opened a frosted glass door. “Here are the rain showers, a soaking tub, and a geothermal sauna.”
“I think we’ll skip the sauna,” Maeve said, still slightly traumatized by the exploding greenroom incident.
“How insensitive of me.” Duna placed their hand on their chest and lowered their head. “On behalf of the MAC, I want to express my utmost sympathy for the near-miss accident you endured today.”
“You mean the fiery chamber of doom?” Isaiah asked, looking up from nibbling an ear of rainbow-kernel corn. “You don’t actually think that was an accident, do you?”
Duna’s hand dropped to their side. “What are you implying? That a member of the Multiverse Allied Council tried to kill you?”
“Incinerate us, technically.” Isaiah took another bite. “The doom-o-meter was off the charts.”
Duna’s expression shifted, their youthful eyes growing weary. “That is a weighty accusation.”
“Well, they’d been discussing Releasing us. Why not just save a fancy pod and toast us to a crisp?” Isaiah popped a crunchy tofu cube into his mouth.
“I doubt there is anything nefarious at play here, but I will look into it, quietly,” Duna said, their brow furrowed.
“If it weren’t for that shell child …” Tessa said, her mind wandering as she twirled some spicy red pasta with her fork.
Duna stopped short. “That what?”
Tessa dropped her fork on her plate and clasped a hand over her mouth. Maeve shot her a piercing glare.
“Nothing. No one. Never mind.”
“You must tell me, I implore you.”
Tess bit her lip. Crap! Crap! Crap! How could she have been so stupid?
Duna walked over to a wall vent, unscrewed the grate, and tapped some sort of signal. The vibrations echoed down the ducts. A minute later, a ceiling panel moved aside and the small child climbed down.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Duna scooped her into a warm embrace.
“You know her, too?” Tessa asked.
“Yes, though she is a bit of an enigma. From what I can tell, she cannot speak. She senses vibrations, though. I think she is a citizen of Klapproth, a beautiful planet in Dim2.”
“I thought Dim2 was quarantined? Shro said there was a plague,” Dev said, backing away in case the child was contagious.
“It was. Or, still is, technically. But I do not believe her to be infected or a threat in any way. I think Queen Eryna sent the child here to help reestablish communication with the alliance, but I can’t figure out what information she wishes to convey. If she has chosen to trust you, you must promise to keep her safe. I am working to learn more. But until then, it is best if she remains hidden. I am not sure how the rest of the council will react to her appearance on the Station.”
“Of course,” Tessa replied.
The shell child moved closer, her ice-blue eyes eager, her sensory ports twitching, detecting sound waves and signals the others couldn’t hear. She reached for Tessa’s hand, as though she wanted to tell her something.
“What is your name?” Tessa asked intuitively.
The child’s eyes closed, as did Tessa’s. Then out of Tessa’s mouth came the word, Virrrrrrrriiii. The R trilled, rolling and tumbling off Tessa’s tongue.
Tessa’s eyes flicked back open. “Your name is Virri?” she asked.
The child beamed.
“That’s amazing,” Dev said, coming closer. “Ask her something else.”
“I think she wants to send a message. I’m not sure how, but I can feel it.”
Virri held Tessa’s hand tightly, then looked at the instruments on the nearby table. “She wants you all to play your instruments, like you did in the holding cell,” Tessa said.
Without hesitation, the cadets grabbed their instruments.
They waited for Tessa’s cue. When she closed her eyes and began to sing, the others followed along, letting the music lead them somewhere new. They did not perform a rehearsed marching band piece; there was no strict structure to their music, but it flowed freely from all of them, with Virri’s hand gently resting on Tessa’s.
As Tessa sang, what came from her lungs, throat, and lips was not hers; she was a conduit. As the music ebbed and flowed, Tessa’s voice took on ethereal, ephemeral shapes and sounds. Bells chiming, waves lapping, wind through trees. At the end, the ensemble’s music had transformed into the gentle, melodic hum of a conch shell pressed to an ear.
Virri’s pale gray skin shimmered. She removed her hand from Tessa’s and the music faded. Duna and the cadets sat in serene silence for several minutes.
“You’ve given Virri a voice, and in turn, found your own,” Isaiah said to Tessa. “Just like Benni predicted. It’s all very poetic, don’t you think?”
“Poetic, or just plain freaky?” Lewis said, wide-eyed. “You’re basically an opera-singing alien translator.”
Duna’s lynk suddenly pinged. They pulled it from their pocket. “The council summons me. Before I depart, is there anything else you need?”
Dev set down his trumpet. “Like Virri, we need to send a message home. We’ve been gone for a while and I’m sure our families are worried about us.”
The others nodded, struck by a sudden bout of homesickness.
“Unfortunately, our comms with Dim14 are temporarily disabled. It appears your misguided Transfer caused more damage than initially thought. I will see what can be done and report back as soon as communication is restored.”
“What about the triskaidecagon? Ignatia said each dimension has a designated one that operates on a separate communication channel. Maybe we could send a signal home using that?”
Duna considered this. “I will see what I can do. Only Ignatia has access to the trisks. I will approach her and see if your dimension’s unit is operable at this time.” They smiled gently. “I know how hard it is to feel disconnected from those you love.”
“Thanks, Duna.”
“You are very welcome. I will see you in the morning.” They walked to the door. “Until then, please look after Virri. Enjoy your meal and rest well. Tomorrow is a new day with infinite possibilities.”
As soon as Duna shut the door, Isaiah turned to the others. His skin prickled. The only way he could describe it was … an inkling. Not quite a premonition, but something similar. “We need to send a message home now. Not later.”
“I agree,” Dev said. “If we can reach my dad, he might be able to help.”
“How?” Tessa asked. She wanted to get in touch with her parents just as badly, but Duna had just said comms were down.
Lewis was sitting at the table using a pair of serrated chopstick-like utensils to stuff his face with crispy orange noodles. In between bites, he absentmindedly drummed the utensils on the table in a subtle tap-taptap-tap rhythm.
Across the table Virri watched and listened. She tapped a rhythm back.
“That’s it!” Dev cried, practically jumping from his seat and spilling a bowl of thornmelon soufflé.
Virri tucked inside her shell and rolled under the table.
“Sorry,” Dev said, crouching down to comfort Virri. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Lewis, your drumming … it reminded me of something.” Dev knocked his knuckles on the table. “Morse code! My dad and I use it all the time, more as a joke than anything.”
“Okay, cool father-son bonding tidbit, but how does that help us now?” Maeve asked.
“If we transmit a message in Morse code and convert it to electrical pulses, we should be able to send it over long distances.” He looked around the suite at the holovid screen and gaming device. “I bet we can use what we have in here to build a radio.”
“I love your enthusiasm, Dev, but we’re on a state-of-the-art space station.” Maeve planted her hands on her hips. “Do you really think we can build a better homemade device than whatever they’re running on board?”
Dev’s eyes sparked with new energy. “We can try.”
39
EARTH
Dr. Khatri eyed the broken collider warily. “We can fix it. We can repair the portal,” he said, willing it to be true.
Dr. Scopes stood at his side. “I’m not so certain. The damage looks irreparable. Without the Syntropitron, that is.” Her makeup had begun to smudge, her eyeliner forming dark circles beneath her tired eyes. “We’ll need to build a new portal. Start from scratch.”
“We don’t have that sort of time! My son and his friends could be suspended somewhere—anywhere—within the multiverse, lost in another dimension! Facing inhospitable conditions, gruesome beasts, or worse.” Dr. Khatri slumped down, sitting on the floor. He threw his hands up. “And I thought sending him to sleepaway summer camp was nerve-racking!”
“Don’t worry, Dr. Khatri. The NASA sound lab is fully staffed, listening and scanning the radio waves and satellites nonstop. If the kids send a transmission, our team will pick it up and alert us immediately.” She pursed her lips. “In the meantime, I’ll search Professor McGillum’s computer, see if I can hack his encrypted files. Maybe there are mechanical plans or diagrams that we can use to construct a new collider. If we move quickly, perhaps we can have a new portal up and running in a week or so.”
“A day, Dr. Scopes! We have twenty-four hours. Tops.”
She took a step back. “Yes, sir.”
He touched the charred wall beside him, rubbing the oily residue between his fingertips. “What if we located a natural portal? You and I have both heard murmurings at conferences.”
“You’re not referring to Bermuda, are you? Because rising seas swallowed the Triangle. Even if we wanted to approach the vicinity, we’d need a seaplane, or a ship,” Dr. Scopes replied.
“I know. Perhaps there are other dimensional tears closer to us? If we could find one and adapt it …” He rose to his feet. “I’m going to contact our colleagues at other institutions. I’ll scan the dark web, see if there’s any chatter on the catastrophysics boards. Search missing persons logs and UFO sightings in the police database. The Area 51 folks are pretty tuned into this stuff. I’ll call them as well.”
She exhaled. “You know that’s all conspiracy theory mumbo jumbo.”
Dr. Khatri turned, looking her in the eyes. “Maybe so, but these are desperate times, Dr. Scopes. We can leave no stone unturned. There are children in jeopardy and I will explore all options, no matter how crazy they may seem.”
40
KLAPPROTH
Far across the multiverse on a beautiful but isolated planet, Queen Eyrna’s crystal glyph began to spin, slowly at first, then faster. The sound pattern was soft, low in frequency, losing some of its edges as it traveled across space-time. She clutched the stone to the sensory port in her chest, letting the song reverberate through her many-chambered heart. Finally, she sensed a voice. A channel opened within the fabric of the cosmos, like a single pinprick of light in a pitch-black sky.
She listened, absorbing the message into her heart. She sang, her powerful voice rising above the froth and spray of the sea, louder than the crashing waves, sending a response in return, making a wish for its safe passage.
41
EARTH
Zoey still hadn’t heard back from Tessa, and she hadn’t made much progress with Ming’s letters. She was flipping through the Journal of Strange Occurrences when she heard the front door open.
“Tessa?” her mom called.
“Up here!” she yelled, realizing she was still technically playing the role of her sister. “Just … uh … doing some homework.” Her mom never bugged her when homework was involved.
“Could you please come downstairs for a minute, honey? Dad and I need to talk to you.”
She could hear something in her mother’s voice. Tiredness, yes. But something else, too. Something she wasn’t used to hearing. Zoey’s stomach flip-flopped. Had they found out about the swap? That she’d taken Tessa’s math quiz for her? That she’d stomped on Gage’s already injured foot? That she’d basically lied her way through an entire school day?
“Tessa?”
“Yeah! One minute,” she said, stalling. She did not want to go downstairs to face her parents and fess up about the swap.
Her mom hollered up the stairs, “We brought home takeout. Supino’s Pizza. Mushroom and pepperoni.”
Zoey’s stomach rumbled. She supposed the letters and journal could wait a little while longer …
42
STATION LIMINUS
“You want me to do what to the what-what?” Lewis asked, horrified.
“Take the gaming console apart so we can use the wires and circuits to build a radio and send a signal home,” Dev explained, handing Lewis a tiny cocktail fork. It wasn’t exactly a screwdriver, but the utensils from the catering carts were the closest things to tools they had at the moment.
“But I haven’t even reached level two of AstroBlasters-VII!” Lewis whined, thumbing the controller, shooting orbs of yellow light at a rogue asteroid.
“Priorities, Lewiston. Ever heard of ’em?” Maeve said. While she didn’t personally feel the need to send a message home, she could appreciate why the others wanted to contact their families. Especially Dev, since it was his father who was hopefully going to get them all out of this dilemma and arrange for the actual Earthling envoys to take their place on the Station.
“I just started playing! One more minute. Pleeeease?” Lewis begged, firing a discombobulator at a pack of slobbering, six-headed space wolves.
Tessa’s foot pattered impatiently. “You act like we’re on vacation here.”
“It’s sort of like a mini-vacation,” Lewis replied, not looking up from the screen, his fingers flying across the controller. “Watch this. Blam! Boom!” He detonated a hydrogrenade and sent a fleet of warships to their demise.
“Okay, I’m cutting him off.” Tessa walked across the room and disconnected the console’s power supply.
“Hey!” Lewis pouted. “You’re all mean. And boring. And super mean.”
Tessa said, “Do you want to get home and save the planet, or not?”
“I was about to do exactly that, until you unplugged me!”
“This is real life, Lewis. Not some silly video game.”
“If only we didn’t have to give up our cell phones during the field trip. Then we could just call home!” Lewis lamented.
“You think we’d get service out here?” Dev asked, peering out the suite’s triangular windows at the inky, vertiginous darkspace beyond.
Tessa touched her smartwatch. Its face was blank. The battery completely zonked.
“Listen,” said Isaiah softly. “My mom had to deal with my dad passing away when I was a baby. Then my uncle disappeared into thin air. My mom is strong, but I don’t think she could handle losing me, too. She’s probably a wreck right now. I need to let her know I’m okay.”
“Isaiah’s right. Come on. Let’s focus. We need to work together.” Maeve gave Lewis a pleading smile.
“Fine. I’ll help.” Lewis reluctantly unscrewed the game controller, pulling out wires and springs. He handed the parts to Dev. “But Dr. Scopes denied the existence of the multiverse during our visit. There’s no way she’s going to come looking for us here,” Lewis said.
Dev wedged a butter knife into a remote control and opened its power pack, removing small, pill-shaped batteries. “She might not. But my father will. We just need to access the universal beta channel and broadcast an SOS sign
al. With some luck, NASA’s radio telescope will pick it up and send help. Or at least inform our families that we’re all alive.”
“For now,” Lewis mumbled, stripping parts from the game console.
43
EARTH
“Mohan, tell me precisely what is going on.” Mina Khatri looked at her husband pointedly.
He pulled a heavy atlas from the bookshelf, flipping frantically through the pages, running his index finger across the maps, searching for something.
“It’s confidential,” he said. “I’m not authorized to say a word to anyone.” He didn’t like keeping things from his family, but Mayor Hawthorne had made him promise to keep a wrap on the situation.
“I am not anyone, Mohan. I am your wife. Dev was due home from band practice two hours ago.” She frowned.
He continued shuffling his papers, upending his home office files, seeking any clues that might lead him to the missing kids.
“Where is our son?” Mina asked, interrupting his search.
He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “Dev and a few of his friends volunteered for a sleep study at the Center.”
“They what?”
“It was an honor to be asked, frankly.” His chin twitched. He was a terrible liar.
“And you just let him do it? Without consulting with me first?” Her face was a mix of fury, outrage, and confusion, with a sprinkling of hurt.
“I’m so sorry, dear.” Mohan reached out and took her hand in his. “I should have asked you. But the research team needed to fill the spots quickly, and Dev really wanted to do it. I didn’t want to get in his way. He hates when I embarrass him. I wanted to be a cool dad.” He hung his head in shame. He had wanted to be a cool dad, to impress Dev’s friends, to connect with his son. And now, impossibly, he’d lost them all.
Mission Multiverse Page 17
