by RF Hurteau
She burst into the apartment, wild-eyed, causing her mother to drop the pan she’d been wiping onto the floor with a loud clatter. “Is Ben here?” she demanded.
Her mother, still clasping her heart and clearly confused by this odd behavior, just shook her head. Sylvia, not wanting to explain herself right now, went to her room and shut the door.
She sat, thinking. Was she over-reacting? Maybe everyone had been right. Maybe the stress of the Anniversary and all her extra work had pushed her over the edge. She’d half convinced herself that there was a perfectly logical explanation for Ben’s absence when she heard a knock at the front door. She came out to the kitchen and looked past her mother to see Nelson Boggs standing in the hall. Her eyes swept the hall behind him, expecting to see Ben, but he was alone. “Hello,” he said, a little nervously, eyeing the formidable woman who barred his path and stepping back with a degree of self-preservation. “My name’s Nelson. I was looking for Ben. He was supposed to meet me at Sigil an hour ago, but he never showed up.” He glanced down at his watch. “He invited me to come to dinner, though, so I thought he might have just come home.”
“He’s not here,” said Sylvia’s mother. “Typical. Just like his father. Come in, make yourself at home. I’ve just started dinner. It will be ready soon.”
Nelson sat down at the table, and Sylvia had the sudden urge to confide in him. But she didn’t want to worry her mother, especially if it turned out that nothing was wrong. “Hey, Nelson,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Want to walk down to the market with me? Maybe we’ll meet Ben coming off the train. And we can hurry my dad along, too.”
Her mother scoffed indignantly. “Your father doesn’t hurry anywhere,” she said. “But be quick about it, or you’ll all be eating cold leftovers tonight. If no one has the decency to be home in time for dinner, then no one gets to enjoy it but me and Nana!”
“Um, okay…” said Nelson, looking back and forth between the two women. “I guess a walk would be nice.”
Once outside, Nelson looked at Sylvia questioningly. “So, any idea why Ben didn’t show? He’s not still mad about that incident last week, is he? Because I swear, I never meant to get him in trouble. I was just trying to expand my horizons, see what other departments are like—”
“What? No, no, he’s not mad at you. At least, I don’t think so. What incident?”
Nelson’s face went slightly red. “I kind of showed up in his department on my day off. I just wanted to see what it was like! I asked a lot of questions, I don’t think his supervisor was too pleased, because he ran me off pretty quick.”
“It’s not that,” Sylvia replied, and all at once she found herself telling Nelson about everything that had transpired that day. She told him about Ben’s bizarre idea to go rat hunting and about the strange call, and how she’d searched for him afterward. “And then I thought he must be with you, but now you’re here, and he’s not.”
Nelson was nodding, his face having gone very grave as she spoke. “You’re sure that’s all he said? Nothing else?”
“No,” she said quickly. “That’s everything. Why? What are you thinking?”
Nelson frowned. “I’m not sure,” he said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “Listen, I think Ben might be in trouble.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Sylvia said, a little exasperated.
“No, I mean real trouble, like the kind of trouble that lands you in Geothermal trouble.”
Sylvia swallowed hard. “I don’t understand,” she said, lowering her own voice. “What makes you think that?”
Nelson sighed, biting his lip. He looked like he was struggling, as if there were something he wanted to tell her. “I’m sorry. I can’t say much. But, listen…how many moving rooms are you aware of in Sigil? Or at all, for that matter?” He looked around again, nervously. “I think Ben might have found something he wasn’t supposed to find. But I promise, I’m going to help you figure out what happened to him.”
Sylvia found herself suddenly angry. “What do you mean, something he wasn’t supposed to find?” she demanded, voice rising. Nelson flinched, motioning for her to be quiet, but she went on. “We’re talking about my brother, here. First you say he might have gotten himself thrown into the penal colony, then you have the nerve to act all secretive about it? Something doesn’t add up. What is it you aren’t telling me?” Nelson had gone pale now and looked extremely uncomfortable.
“Please, can we not talk about this here?” he whimpered. “Just…I need to make sure of some things first, okay? I’ll meet you tomorrow. I promise I’ll tell you whatever I can then, okay?”
“Tomorrow?” she said, disbelieving. “You want me to wait until tomorrow? Ben is missing today!”
“I’m sorry, it’s the best I can do. Listen, I’m going to go. Meet me in the morning, North Wing, third classroom on the right. Six o’clock!” He hurried away, toward the station, and she shouted after him.
“What am I supposed to tell my parents?”
He had disappeared into the milling crowd.
“About what?”
She whirled around to find her father behind her, his brow furrowed, eyes questioning. Thinking fast, she blurted out the first thing that came to her. “About—Ben,” she said, quickly. “And his friend, Nelson. They were supposed to come home for dinner, but they’ve just made other plans, and they won’t be coming after all.”
“Oh dear,” her father said, shaking his head sadly. “That won’t put your mother in a very good mood. Did you at least warn her that I’d be late?”
“Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry, I completely forgot!”
“Ah well, nothing for it, then. We’d best get this over with.” He walked beside her, still frowning. “The worst part is, I’m late for nothing. My friend never even showed up!”
six
The Snow’s Cold Embrace
Willow’s heart was heavy as she climbed the wide stone steps of the D4 Schoolhouse. There was a sense of familiarity here, as the building had always been intended for one of the Council members, and it was very similar to the home where she had grown up. And yet, it was not a warm, comforting familiarity. Just now, it brought tears to her eyes, and she struggled to keep her composure as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark interior.
She walked from room to room, turning on the lights as she went, looking with fresh eyes on the extravagance of the architecture. Pillars and carved sculptures rose to high ceilings. An ornate fireplace dominated the center of the house, its white marble interior pristine. The Therans had brought this stone through the Gate when Sanctuary was being built. Her father had told her that there were cities on Thera where everything was white, miles and miles that gleamed like freshly fallen snow. It was such an odd thing to have added to the homes—a fireplace where wood was at a premium and the temperature was always steady and comfortable. In all of Sanctuary’s years, she doubted it had ever been used. What a stupid gift, she thought angrily. What a stupid waste of time, bringing rocks when they should have brought something useful. Something that would have helped.
It was ironic, she thought, that this home would be abandoned, repurposed to teach the very students who were so reviled by the Council. There were a dozen homes like this in each residential dome, but when the Human population had begun to rise, all of the inhabitants had migrated to somewhat less impressive housing in the Theran district, rather than live and sleep in the same domes that the Humans and Halfsies inhabited. A great deal larger than the average apartment in Sanctuary, these stone behemoths had been transformed into schools, shelters, and meeting places. This particular home had been divided up as well. Willow taught on the first floor, where she and her fellow teachers had divided the fifty-six school-aged Halfsie children into three groups according to ability. She was in charge of the youngest students.
The basement level was occupied by a doctor who treated those unable to afford, or too afraid to
go to, the hospital. In all of Sanctuary, only these houses had basements. And the upstairs acted as a shelter for those undesirables with no place else to go. Willow wasn’t sure how they fed themselves without jobs, but they seemed to get by, all the same. It seemed so strange to her, that a city which had sheltered the last of Humanity for over a century still managed to allow so many of its citizens to slip through the cracks, unwanted, forgotten.
Her school supplies, in stark contrast to the home, were shabby and dull. When the Sigil school had begun to turn away Halfsies, Willow had felt responsible. She knew it was her father’s doing, and she knew it was wrong. She’d scraped and scrounged to find and collect the things she’d accumulated here. A few desks, although most of the students still had to sit on the floor. A projector that Felix had rigged up for her from spare parts. Old log sheets that had been scavenged from piles destined for reclamation, so the children could use the back sides of the paper to work out problems.
Still, they made do. Willow loved her students, and that had proven more important than desks that didn’t wobble or books that weren’t missing pages. They thrived under her tutelage, and she considered it a privilege to teach them.
“Early start today?” The voice came from behind her, making her jump. She pivoted sharply on her heel, and her startled expression softened.
“Good morning, Oliver,” she replied. “Just getting ready for class.”
Oliver might have been a tall man once, but as he entered the room now, his back was hunched, and he walked slowly, his cane tapping the floor in sync with his steps, accentuating the slowness of his movements. One of the residents upstairs, he often stopped by on his way out in the mornings to say hello. Willow had always been kind to him. Having no real home and no family, he could use a little kindness. When the children left, he would sometimes help her tidy up, and she had grown fond of their conversations. He had a good heart, and she marveled that he could approach each day with such a positive attitude, given his situation. Most families took care of their elderly once they could no longer be a contributing member of society, which made Willow sad for him. Oliver, like the others in the shelter, had no one. Beneath his tattered black hat and sparse grey hair was a sharp mind, though, that much was evident. His keen eyes fell upon the fireplace, and he nodded.
“Quite extravagant,” he commented, echoing her earlier thoughts. “The world was dying, and they used the resources they had on things like this. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Willow, “it does make you wonder.”
“Will you be attending the festivities tomorrow?” Oliver asked, resting against one of the desks and folding his hands atop his cane.
“Hmm?” It took Willow a moment to understand the question. She’d had so much on her mind since yesterday, she hadn’t put much thought into the Anniversary. “Oh, yes…I suppose I will,” she answered. Then she looked at him, her expression quizzical. “Won’t you be attending, as well?”
Oliver laughed. “No, I think not,” he said, his eyes full of a youthful mischievousness. “When you’re old and useless, they don’t care if you attend feasts and speeches anymore. They just want you to find a nice, quiet hole to crawl into while you wait for death.”
Willow’s eyes went wide, and Oliver chuckled. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’m not going to drop dead in the middle of your classroom. I wouldn’t want to put the burden of disposing of my body on a woman in your condition.”
Willow’s hand instinctively went to her stomach. “How did you—” she began, but he stopped her.
“When you get to be my age, you pick up a few things,” he said simply. “Congratulations, by the way.”
She looked away, forcing a smile but unable to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” she said, after a moment.
Oliver seemed to sense her reluctance to discuss this topic, so he straightened up and gave her a nod. “I’ll be off, then,” he said. “Busy day ahead!” He disappeared out the front door just as her students began to trickle in. She had only a moment to wonder if he’d meant that she had a busy day ahead, or he did. Then she shook the thought from her mind, put on her best smile, and began to welcome her students.
* * *
“Is that really what it looks like?” chirped Eloise, pointing at the projection on the wall, her gleaming eyes wide with fascination.
“Yes,” Willow confirmed with a nod and a smile. “It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Can we go and see it? Like, for real?” asked Nathaniel, a spirited boy whose pointed ears peeked out from a thick mat of sleek black hair. Willow shook her head.
“Remember how we talked about the way they sealed Sanctuary up, to protect the Humans from the Sequencing? Well, they sealed it up so well that there isn’t a way in or out anymore. So, I’m afraid we won’t be making a field trip to Antiquity’s Gate a part of our studies.”
“It looks like a jewel,” remarked Sasha, a shy girl who spoke very little during class, and always sat in the back.
Willow acknowledged her statement with a smile and looked around at the other students. “That’s very true, Sasha. Can anyone tell me why it looks like that?”
There were several raised hands, and she pointed to one of the students. “Yes, Mikayla?”
“Is it made of ice?”
Willow pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly to one side. “That’s a good guess, but no. Hugh?”
“My dad said it’s made of crystal,” Hugh offered.
“Correct!” said Willow, and Hugh’s chest puffed out with obvious pride. “Antiquity’s Gate is composed entirely of crystal. After its discovery, scientists said it was like no other crystal found on Earth. They believed it to be extraterrestrial in origin. Who can tell me what extraterrestrial means?”
“From another place,” said Hugh, “like Elves.”
Willow tilted her head back and forth, squinting. “Well, you’re partially right. It means something that’s not from Earth. But the Therans, or Elves as they’re more commonly known, are from Earth, technically. Thera, their home, is just like Earth. It exists in the same place and time, but on a different plane…but we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, here. We’ll learn more about that later on.”
“It looks like it’s glowing,” added another student from the back.
“Yes,” said Willow. “It’s believed that the Gate absorbs and channels sunlight, which is where it gets its power. It’s very sensitive to other types of radiation, as well, and responds to them in different ways. Can anyone tell me how we know that?”
A few hesitant hands went up. “What can you tell us, Lyle?”
“Because it grew?”
Willow nodded approvingly. “That’s right. You see, Antiquity’s Gate was not always a Gate. It began as a large, solid mass of crystal. Intrigued by the mysteries it might hold, scientists began experimenting on it. It wasn’t so large that it couldn’t have been moved, but when they tried, they discovered that it had rooted itself deep into the ground. No physical tool could chip away at the surface, so they began trying other methods to take samples. When subjected to lasers and other types of rays, they discovered that the crystal began rapidly expanding. It formed the structure we now know as Antiquity’s Gate. Who was the first Human to go through the Gate?”
She looked around, but no one answered.
“His name was Gabriel Thierston. But he didn’t mean to do it. When the Gate formed, everyone was confused, and a little scared. Gabriel was the first who was brave enough to approach it. And when he stepped beneath its arch…” She threw out her hands dramatically, and the children jumped and giggled. “Poof! He disappeared!” She waited until the giggling had died down to continue.
“Unfortunately, exactly how the Gate functions was not determined before the Sequencing, so we only have theories. Therefore, it is still a mystery how it came to be and how it connects Earth and Thera. Some have even suggested that the Gate itself is a living being!” There w
ere several looks of dubious skepticism. The room broke out in whispered exclamations of disbelief. “Perhaps some of you will be scientists someday. Maybe you’ll discover some of these answers, so that future generations will have a better understanding of Antiquity’s Gate. What do you say to that?”
Several students nodded enthusiastically, but for every bright smile in the room, Willow could see at least two scowling faces. It was a cruel world, indeed, where children had to endure the bitterness of harsh realities. Simply because their parents chose to love the wrong person, these kids were ostracized and looked down upon. Many of them were likely thinking about how unrealistic it was to dream of making important discoveries, given the small number of career opportunities that would be accessible to them. At that moment, Willow found herself hating her father. Halfsies had never been popular, it was true, but his personal vendetta against them had swayed many who had previously viewed them with only polite indifference. Things were getting worse for Halfsies, and she feared for them.
Shaking her head to clear her mind, she looked up and asked, “Can anyone tell me the Theran name for Antiquity’s Gate?”
“The Evenmire!” squeaked a boy who sat cross-legged on the floor.
“Very good, Jacob, but please remember to raise your hand next time, alright?”
“Excuse me, Willow,” said a kind-looking woman with olive skin and dark eyes who had appeared in the doorway, “but have you finished with the projector? I’d like to use it, if you’re done.”
“Oh, yes. Of course, Molly!” she replied, flipping the switch. “Children, please get out your arithmetic books. We’ll be working on our multiplication next. Start with the problems on page thirty-seven.” There were several groans, but the students complied. She picked up the projector.
“Hurray!” shouted Eloise, “I don’t have page thirty-seven!”
“You still have to do the problems,” Willow replied, “just share a book with your neighbor.” Eloise sighed.
