by Stuart Jaffe
After a few minutes, she jiggled the mattress but Frank continued to snore. Good. Peeling back the white-and-gray striped comforter, she eased her legs free. The floor chilled her feet and she involuntarily hissed. Autumn in Pennsylvania could create some brisk mornings. Holding still a moment, she waited until she heard the snoring resume. A few breaths later, she rolled off the mattress and onto her feet.
Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned over enough to see the side of his face — not bad looking, certainly nothing to be horrified by. She had done worse.
Throwing on last night’s clothes, she padded in bare feet across the apartment. Like a thief in reverse, she slipped out to the hall and eased the apartment door shut so that the lock made a meek click. Sitting in the stairwell, she put on her socks and shoes, stuffed her bra into her handbag, and checked her cellphone — 7:02 am. She hurried downstairs, out the building’s front door, and fast-walked her way along the broken sidewalk on Arbor Street.
She had not been in the northwestern part of Olburg in years, but she recalled a corner diner a few blocks over — the Olburg Chestnut. Inhaling slow and deep, letting the cool morning air fill her lungs and clear her head, she eased her pace. As she neared the corner, she knew the old eatery remained — she could smell the frying bacon and fresh coffee. A hard-looking lot shuffled their way into the diner — truck drivers, road crews, and other blue collar men and women seeking a hearty start to their day. None of the business suits came here. They all grabbed a donut and coffee on their commute to Philadelphia. The people here were those that kept the local world running.
Except one man.
He wore a pressed suit, leaned on a black cane with a silver handle, and played with his mustache styled from the 1920s. Though he merely waited on the sidewalk, Roni’s instincts kicked in — she had no doubt that the man waited for her. As she neared, his head jerked in her direction, and he fashioned a dark grin.
“Ms. Veronica Rider? Yes?”
He had a smooth voice with an odd accent — not one she could place to any particular country. She brushed by him and entered the diner.
The hustle of waitresses blended with the chimes of silverware and the sizzling of the griddle. Laughter, mumbled conversation, and the call of food orders drifted along heavy aromas of pancakes and eggs. A sign up front stated: Please seat yourself. Only problem: no seats available.
Standing at the door with the cold air from outside fighting the warmth of the diner, Roni scanned around for signs of anybody about the leave. The odd man from outside entered behind her and stood quietly. Like a passenger on a sinking ship, she searched again for a table to save her. Nothing.
Refusing to look back, she said, “You a lawyer?”
As if insulted, he said, “Never.”
“Good. Thought you might be serving a summons.”
Two men wearing jackets with Stoltzfus Plumbing on the backs tossed some cash on their table and walked off. Roni nabbed their booth near the back and waited as a young man hustled to bus the table. Once he left, another young man set the table with paper placemats (complete with ads for local businesses), silverware wrapped in paper napkins, and two thick coffee mugs. The man in the nice suit settled in opposite Roni. She thought about making a scene, but that required too much energy. Instead, she nudged her mug toward the aisle, and as if by magic, a waitress walked by and filled it with hot caffeinated goodness.
“You want something to eat?” the waitress asked.
Roni didn’t bother looking up. “Two eggs, over easy, and some toast.”
“And you, sir?”
“Nothing, thank you.”
Once the waitress left, the man unrolled his napkin and set about placing his knife, fork, and spoon in the proper positions. Roni sipped her coffee. Under other circumstances, she would have told the guy to go away. If he refused, she could easily get one of the many strong men to escort the guy out of the diner — probably throw a few punches, too. But that morning, she wanted to simply sip her coffee, find her way home, and curl into her own bed. Her body needed to recalibrate.
But then the man spoke again. This time, his voice deepened, and the words he said spun the world around her head. “We need to talk about the multiverse, your grandmother, and the rest of the Parallel Society.”
Chapter 3
The incessant rumble of the busy diner ceased. The clatter of dishes, the chimes of the main door opening, the conversations muddling together, the cellphones beeping and singing and chirping — all of it simply disappeared as if somebody had forgotten to add sound to the picture. Roni stared at the well-dressed man opposite her as the coffee in her stomach threatened to return.
“What did you say?” she finally managed, and with those words life around her returned to normal volumes.
“Oh, yes, I’m well aware of the truth. Surely, your grandmother explained that there were many of us out there in the world who had learned — or, at least, had believed. Not many as in thousands or such, but certainly more than a few. Perhaps a hundred or so. Maybe less.”
“Must of slipped her mind.”
“Well, then, allow me to be direct so as to avoid further confusions.”
Roni lowered her hand beneath the table and clenched a fist. She didn’t know if she wanted to punch this guy or turn her anger upon Gram. Instead, she listened.
“My name is Kenneth Bay. I am the current emissary of the being Yal-hara.”
“The being?”
Kenneth raised his pointer finger. “Please. Permit me to finish before you ask questions. It will save time.” He waited until Roni sat back and gestured for him to continue. Stroking his mustache as he exhaled, he went on, “Thank you. Yal-hara is from another universe. One night, a tear in her world opened beneath her while she slept, and it deposited her in our world. Until that moment she knew nothing of the multiverse. She was a teacher, actually. She instructed the young in basic skills — what we call reading, writing, and arithmetic.
“This all occurred in the year 1907 in the Sahara Desert. She nearly died, but a nomadic tribe came upon her and took her into their care. When the Parallel Society of that time arrived and captured the rift into one of their books, Yal-hara was twenty miles away and being treated like a god. It would take her many years to find her way out of the desert, learn enough languages to survive, and create a source of wealth — all the while keeping hidden from mankind.”
“Why hidden?”
“No interruptions, please. However, to answer your question — not all beings that come here can pass as human. Eventually, Yal-hara learned of the Society — this was in 1932. At that time, they were using Paris as their homebase. She sent her emissary to contact the Society, and it did not go well. They attempted to assassinate her. I suppose they thought that the most prudent course of action — dispose of the problem. But their rash decision drove her into deeper hiding.”
Roni opened her mouth but held back her next question. She opted for a sip of coffee, though she doubted Kenneth Bay had been fooled.
“By 1944, Yal-hara had settled in America. Turned out that the turmoil Hitler had caused also created enough chaos to benefit her travels. Nobody bothered her. The war took the lives of all but one member of the Society. That woman, Grace Covington, relocated to Philadelphia — no easy feat when you consider the dangers of moving all those books. Eventually, she met your grandmother and passed the torch. Yal-hara spent her days educating herself on the world and learning all she could about the multiverse. But, of course, that subject is not widely known, and she could not easily approach your Gram, as I believe you call her. After the Parallel Society had reformed to its full complement, Yal-hara decided to risk exposing her existence. She sent her newest emissary, my father, but unfortunately, the meeting did not go well. The Society made it clear that they had little interest in Yal-hara’s story and only wanted to send her back into the multiverse — any book would do. Though better than before — after all, your Gram did not attempt to kill Yal-hara
— they still did not want to help solve the actual problem. This was unacceptable. Yal-hara had learned enough about the mulitverse to know that some of the worlds were dark and terrible places.”
Roni shuddered as she recalled gazing into the open book Darin had fallen inside. It stretched downward like an esophagus while anguished creatures wrenched their bodies against the membrane wall. At the bottom, she saw hurricanes blasting across while thunder cracked the air. It had been enough to destroy Darin’s sanity.
“Once again, Yal-hara went into hiding. However, she always maintained an eye upon the Society. It was then, and remains now, her only real hope. But she is growing old, and with that, her desperation grows, too. I took over from my father as her emissary, and against my advice, she attempted to infiltrate the caverns through Darin Lander. You are quite aware of the results.”
“So that was all you?”
“Not me. Yal-hara. And while the entire endeavor was regrettable, the one positive was your inclusion into the Society. After careful observations, Yal-hara and I both agreed that you represent a new and much needed perspective on the Society — one worth reaching out to for help. That’s precisely why I am here. She has waited a long time for someone like you — someone caring and open-minded. Can you imagine how hard it must have been to live for over a century as the only fully-sentient, non-human being on this planet? And please, don’t bring up chimpanzees. I know they’re sentient, but they are mindless twits compared to Yal-hara. All she asks is a small favor that will help her immensely.”
“Sure. Because everything you’ve told me leads to a small favor.”
Kenneth laced his fingers as he rested his arms on the table. “You’re wary. It’s only natural. You should be. The only thing that lends credence to my words is the fact that I say them at all, that I am aware of the Society and the books and the caverns and Darin and the rest of it, but why should that be enough?”
Roni couldn’t tell if he mocked her. Before she snapped out a response, he sighed and pulled a torn piece of paper from his coat. Her eyes widened. On the table, sitting between her half-eaten eggs and a mug of coffee, Kenneth had placed a map fragment depicting part of the caverns.
“How did you get this?” she asked.
“Yal-hara gave it to me to give to you. I never questioned how she acquired it. I assume that if one lives as long as she does, enough things happen that one ends up with all sorts of oddities in one’s possession. Regardless, that is part of a map detailing some of the route to the Book on the Isle.”
Roni looked closer, her fingers tapping the edge of the table. Much of the map looked like many of the others she had seen in the Grand Library — one tunnel after another snaking through and looping around and looking no more organized than cooked spaghetti on a plate. But on this map, there was an open section with a small circular island in the middle. The words Book on the Isle had been printed neatly next to the circle.
“If you are willing,” Kenneth said, leaning closer, “Yal-hara would like you to find the Book on the Isle and retrieve a kyolo stone. They are plentiful in the world that book leads to — you may be able to simply reach in and pluck one off the ground — and they are quite distinctive. With that stone, Yal-hara can create a simple compass that will lead her to a rift back into her universe.”
Holding her breath, Roni reached out to touch the map. With so many gaps in what she had to work with, this fragment could be infinitely important. Certainly, Yal-hara believed it offered enough to guide her to this book — which suggested it would fill in a significant part of the overall mapping of the caverns. Unless, Roni held the same wishful thinking as Yal-hara. But before Roni could defeat her own hopes, she would have to take this paper to the map room in the Grand Library and see how well it fit in.
Holding the map in her hands, however, she paused. “Why is Yal-hara handling things this way? Why not come directly to the bookstore and talk with all of us? No matter what had happened in the past, Gram would help if —”
“Really? Have they helped you?”
“Me? I’m not stuck in somebody else’s universe.”
“You have Lost Time, don’t you?”
Roni’s muscles contracted. “How do you know —”
“It’s not an unheard of phenomenon. From what I’ve been able to discern, nobody from any universe knows the exact cause — or causes, it may be more than one thing — but this kyolo stone might be able to help you, too. Perhaps it can lead you to some answers — ones you grandmother withholds from you. Just as she would withhold her aid to Yal-hara.”
Folding the paper, Roni gave a short nod. A lump formed beneath her ribs and wormed its way into the pit of her stomach, but she placed the paper into her pocket. “I’ll look into this,” she said.
Kenneth’s shoulder dropped an inch as he grinned. “Thank you.” He rose from the table and slid his business card towards her. “Call me when you’re ready.” Straightening his coat, he walked away.
Roni sat motionless as she watched the strange man exit the diner. The torn piece of paper weighed down her coat. She took a deep breath — best not to raise her expectations.
Hard, though, when the man had mentioned her Lost Time. She had always thought that was a name Gram gave to her missing memories, but now it appeared to be something more — chalk it up to another lie from her grandmother. But since those lost memories revolved around the accident that stole her mother’s life, Roni couldn’t stop the excited questions racing through her mind — all centering around the promise of that piece of paper.
Her phone rang and she jumped. Glancing at the screen, she read — Gram.
As she swiped to accept the call, she placed her other hand under her thigh to stop its shaking. Nothing could be shaking — especially her voice. She had to make sure the Gram did not suspect anything out of the ordinary.
“H-Hello?” Damn.
But luck came her way. Gram was so wrapped up in her own purpose for calling that she made no reaction to Roni’s nerves — or perhaps, she assumed Roni was nervous because of the call. It all reduced to Gram’s two word reply. “You’re late.”
Chapter 4
Although Olburg was not a huge town, it still took Roni twenty minutes to reach the bookstore. She burst in with a dismissive wave at Gram. “I know, I know. I’m here now.”
Behind the counter, Gram crossed her arms underneath her large bosom. The scowl on her face deepened. “Are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”
Without slowing her pace, Roni said, “That depends — do you want me to go home and change or do you want me to get to work?”
In the aisle leading to the elevator, Roni weaved around a young woman. “Excuse me,” the woman said, “I’m looking for —”
“Check with the woman up front, please.”
“But —”
Smiling, Roni hopped into the elevator and closed the door. On her way down to the Grand Library, she patted her coat pocket, checking that the paper had not disappeared. Out of the elevator, she stepped into the main room and flicked on the lights.
She paused as the Library came to life. Despite all that she thought about being isolated from the Old Gang, she had to admit that she loved this place. Designed like the smoking room of an old estate, the main part of the Grand Library encompassed a far larger amount of space than such a room would require. When she took on the job of researcher for the Society, books had been stacked in dusty piles while papers were strewn about without much care. After a year of steady work, however, Roni had transformed most of the ill-used shelves into categorized, logical order. The wood gleamed, the light glittered, and the books had begun to discover their homes.
In addition to all the journals and diaries of the previous Parallel Society members, she had found numerous volumes of non-fiction written by Society members. Some of them were descriptions of how physics worked in different universes, some detailed the various powers different Society members had possessed throughout histor
y, and some narrowed their focus to analyzing a specific location of the caverns or a single book chained to its walls. While all of these tomes excited the bookworm in Roni’s head, she had come to love the room off to the right even more — the map room.
She had only started focusing on that room in the last four months. Her initial hope had been to take all the maps drawn by various expeditions and create a single, giant map of the caverns. But this proved far more challenging than she had expected. The maps were all different scales and styles. Many were fragments like the one in her pocket while others could not even be called a fragment. Some were nothing more than a rough sketch in a journal with barely a description of the surrounding area to orient the reader. In the end, Roni decided to create two versions of her Master Map — one on her computer and one on paper.
Taking all the completed, half-completed, and hardly-completed maps she had available, she used her computer to rescale everything to a uniform size. That took a long time until she got the hang of it. She then printed out the scaled-maps and went through the tedious job of figuring out how they connected. Like the early stages of tackling a complex jigsaw puzzle, she searched for the smallest connections between map pieces — especially anything that might resemble the ends. But after several tries, she realized she lacked key parts.
Roni stared at the map. Clenching the fragment, she searched for anything that it could connect with. Why give her the fragment if it couldn’t be found? But with approximately half the wall covered in the paper maps and knowing that she had far more map than wall space, Roni had the sinking thought that this island holding a single book might be located far into the as-yet-unmapped portions of her project.
Except the fact that Kenneth Bay brought her the map fragment suggested the island would have to be near enough to reach; otherwise, it made a poor bribe for her help. Kenneth and Yal-hara had to know that Roni would use the fragment to locate the island — that’s what they wanted her to do — so, it had to be in an accessible location.
