by Melinda Metz
"Either that or the molecule fairy put them back together for us," Alex said.
"Molecule fairy?" Adam repeated, a faint frown on his face.
Max was struck by just how few days Adam had had in the real world. He had a lot of lost time to make up for. Max promised himself he'd help him do it.
"Adam, there's something you have to know about Alex," Michael told him. "He's a moron."
Everyone laughed except Isabel. "So what do we do now?" she asked, her voice harsh.
Max rubbed the back of his neck. "The wormhole," he answered. "I don't think we have any choice." He braced himself for another round of protests. They didn't come. Probably because they'd all gotten a firsthand look at how phenomenally powerful DuPris was, how impossible it would be for them to come up with a plan to defeat him.
"When?" Liz asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.
"As soon as we can figure out a way to catch DuPris a little off guard," Max answered. "Any ideas?"
"We could all dress up like hookers," Alex suggested, voice flat.
"I think we should eat, get some rest, then meet up and start working on a plan," Liz said.
"We don't have time for that," Michael answered, his voice grim. "Look!"
Max followed Michael's gaze and saw a network of veins forming a few feet away. "DuPris followed us!" he cried.
"Not just DuPris," Michael shot back. And Max realized there were two other bodies beginning to form-the hunters.
"How long will it take you to open the wormhole?" Alex demanded.
"I don't know," Max admitted.
"Go upstairs and start the process," Liz ordered. "Ray's bedroom is pretty much over the coffee shop. We'll keep DuPris in here. You open the hole above him."
"How are you going-" Max began to protest.
"Let us worry about that!" Liz exclaimed. "Now go!"
***
Max ran for the staircase. Liz checked on DuPris. His organs had formed, but he still had no eyes. "Michael, Isabel, Adam, make all of us look like DuPris!" she cried.
"What good will that do?" Isabel yelled.
"I don't know. But we have to try something, and maybe we can confuse the hunters," Liz explained in a rush. "They won't attack us if they think there's a possibility we're DuPris."
Adam stepped up in front of her and put his hands on her face. She felt her flesh begin to shift, her bones softening and re-forming in a new configuration. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Michael working on Cameron. She glanced in the other direction. Isabel already had Alex and Maria looking exactly like DuPris.
"Done," Adam announced.
"Do yourself. Hurry!" Liz urged. Flesh was covering DuPris's body and the long, thin frames of the bounty hunters. But DuPris's eye sockets were still empty, and the dozens of little bumps that were the bounty hunters' eyes hadn't formed yet.
"Now what?" Isabel asked.
"Now we try to buy Max some time," Liz answered. She forced herself to stand right next to DuPris, and she was the first thing he looked at when his eyes formed.
"I'm tired of games," he told her. He reached for her throat.
"Are you two lumps going to stand there while he attacks me?" she yelled at the bounty hunters, striving for DuPris's arrogant tone. "Kill him!"
The bounty hunters responded immediately, so fast on their long legs. One of them grabbed DuPris by the hair.
"Touch me again and I'll turn you into ash right now," DuPris barked. The bounty hunter let go. DuPris pointed at Liz. "That one is an imposter. Destroy it!"
"Both of them are impostors!" another voice that sounded like DuPris's called from behind her. "Leave them and follow me!"
The hunters hesitated, looking at each other. Then one moved up to DuPris and one moved up to Liz. It leaned close, closer.
Hurry up, Max, she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut as the hunter began using its mouth tentacles to explore her face.
***
Max felt the consciousness pulling the power out of him, stretching it out and up as they frantically tried to construct a tunnel between his world and theirs.
He knew only part of the power for the wormhole had to come from him. The power of the consciousness would create one piece of the tunnel.
But he was exhausted, and he wasn't sure he had enough power in him to make this work. He tried not to resist as the consciousness yanked more power from him. He thought he could feel his body withering on the inside, as if blood and other vital fluids were somehow being taken out of him, too.
You're imagining it, he told himself. But he hadn't imagined the dried-out spot on his neck. The process, whatever it was, obviously had an effect on his body.
There's no other way to get DuPris back, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as the power was drawn out of him even more rapidly.
He heard a sucking sound, and for a second he thought he was actually hearing his power being siphoned from his body. Then he realized that it was the sound of the wormhole beginning to open.
Max tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left in his mouth. His tongue felt like a hunk of sandpaper.
There wasn't much left in him, he realized. Not much power. Not much of anything.
He just had to hope there was enough to finish opening the hole.
***
Isabel shot a glance at the swirling spot in the ceiling almost directly over Liz's and DuPris's heads. It was as if the plaster in the spot had turned to thick pudding that was being stirred by an invisible spoon. It had to be the wormhole beginning to open. Any time now, Max, she thought.
She returned her gaze to Liz and the bounty hunter. It was using one of its tentacles to trace the inside of her ear. Even watching sent shivers of revulsion through Isabel.
"I told you, I'm over here!" Isabel shouted. "Come on! We have work to do!"
The hunters didn't respond. They'd clearly decided to examine the first two DuPrises completely before they did anything else. Would Liz's disguise fool them? Why hasn't DuPris shifted shape again? She assumed, from the worn expression on his face, that he had exhausted too much of his power to shape-shift again. Or maybe DuPris knew there was something in Liz's scent or shape that would give her away.
Isabel hated just standing there watching. She wondered if she should slip away and go upstairs. Maybe Max needed help opening the wormhole.
Or maybe the attempt had already drained him to the point of death.
That settled it. She was going. She turned, then she heard a sound that turned her bones to ice-a wheezing, hiccuping, unnatural sound.
Isabel spun back to face Liz and realized that the sound was coming from the bounty hunter in front of her friend. It's… it's laughing, she realized.
"I told you it was the imposter," DuPris snapped. "Now are you going to kill it, or do I have to do everything myself?"
"Look!" Alex shouted-at least Isabel was pretty sure it was Alex. They all sounded exactly alike with the changes in their vocal cords. He pointed to the ceiling.
Isabel tilted back her head. The swirling spot was almost transparent now.
The bounty hunters made gibbering sounds of fear and darted to the far wall. Liz bolted over to Isabel's side. DuPris stared up, motionless, transfixed. Then he began to back away, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. He knocked into Isabel, but he didn't seem to notice.
With a deep sucking sound, the spot in the ceiling opened completely. Isabel's ears popped as the pressure in the room changed.
"No! I'm not going back," DuPris screamed from behind her. But he seemed unable to run.
One of the little tables slid across the floor, metal legs squealing. It spun around under the hole, then flew straight up and disappeared. Liz grabbed Isabel by the wrist and pulled her down. "Lie flat on your stomach," she cried. "It will be harder for it to suck you in."
"What about DuPris? We have to get him in there," Isabel shouted. Another table was sucked up through the hole in the ceiling.
Michael crawled over-at least Isabel
thought it was Michael. "Connect with me," he called, looping his arm across her and Liz. "Maybe we can use our power to push him through from here."
Isabel glanced over his shoulder, her oily DuPris hair whipping around her face. "DuPris is still just standing there. What is he doing?"
DuPris gave a howl of anguish. "Help me!" he wailed. But he started sliding toward the spot below the hole, like some kind of barefoot water-skier.
Isabel realized they weren't going to have to do anything but watch. The force of the wormhole had him.
"Help me!" DuPris cried. "Help me!" His arms pinwheeled as he struggled to fight the suction. "I don't want to go.…"
But it was too late. His feet were lifted off the ground as the suction of the hole pulled him up.
The bounty hunters let out shrill screams. They darted over and grabbed DuPris by the legs. DuPris shrieked as if his body were being ripped in two, but the hunters didn't let go.
An instant later all three of them disappeared into the wormhole.
"We have to get out of here," Michael cried. "Stay low."
Isabel struggled to turn around while keeping her body pressed tight against the floor, then she began to crawl, fighting against the pull of the hole. She felt one of her shoes fly off and tried not to think about her whole body flying after it.
"This helps," she heard Liz yell.
She turned her head, her eyes stinging from all the dust and debris whizzing past her. Liz was using the metal stools lining the counter to pull herself along.
Great idea. They were bolted to the floor. Isabel rolled over and grabbed the closest one. Pulling herself hand over hand, she made it to the end of the coffee shop. Then she pushed herself into a crouch and ran as fast as she could while keeping her body low.
Liz and Michael were already halfway to the staircase. Isabel checked over her shoulder. Four DuPrises were right behind her. Good, no one got sucked!
She raced over to the stairs and took them three at a time. She had to be sure Max was all right.
"Everybody link up before we go in," Michael ordered from in front of the bedroom door. "We might need each other to fight the pull of the hole, or…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Isabel knew exactly what he was thinking-they might need the power of the connection to try to save Max's life.
She reached out and grabbed the two closest hands. The connection began to form immediately. But it felt different somehow. Almost tainted.
We're all totally freaked. Of course it infects the connection a little, she thought.
She shook off the thought as Michael pushed open the bedroom door and led the way inside. Isabel felt tears begin to stream down her face the moment she saw her brother. He was almost unrecognizable. The skin of his face had hardened into deep furrows, and his body wasn't much more than bones covered by dry, dry skin.
"You've got to help me close the hole," he choked out.
She rushed over to him and pressed her hands against his neck. The others joined her, placing their hands on Max, too, centering their connection in his body.
"I think if we can break Max free of the consciousness, the hole will close," Isabel shouted, her voice almost overpowered by the sucking of the wormhole.
She gathered up her energy and blasted out an image of Max teaching her how to ride a bike. You're Max, she thought. Max. My big brother. You're not some little insignificant piece of the consciousness.
She chose another memory-Max dressed up as a mad scientist for Halloween-and shot it out. You're Max, the science geek.
The others started showing Max images of himself, too. Images of Max the boyfriend. Max the best friend. Max the son. Max the mouse healer. Max the teacher of the toaster. Max the saint. Max the heart of their group.
The horrible sucking sound of the wormhole lessened. "It's working," Liz cried. "Keep going."
Liz was right. The patch of skin under Isabel's fingers was growing softer and fleshier, as if it was rehydrating. "We need you more than the consciousness does, Max," she yelled. That should get him. Mr. Responsibility.
She grinned as the wormhole snapped shut. The grin practically stretched to her ears when Max sat up. "You look almost like a person again," she told him. He still had a few of those freakish withered spots, but he really did look basically okay.
"He looks a lot better than I do," one of the DuPrises complained.
Max's eyes widened as he took in their appearance. "I can fix that," he said. He reached out and touched the whiny DuPris's face. A few moments later Maria had her own look back. She gave her blond curls a happy shake.
Isabel reached up and pressed her fingers against her forehead, disgusted by the feel of the oily hair. She started to change herself back. "The guy should rethink his styling products," she complained, the words coming out distorted as the DuPris lips changed into her own.
"I don't think he'll have to worry about it where he is," Max answered. "He probably doesn't even have hair anymore."
Isabel glanced around. Only one DuPris left to go-Alex. She felt a pang of self-consciousness about touching him. It felt sort of weird again now that they weren't fighting for their lives. She told herself to get over it and reached out and cupped Alex's face in her hands.
Alex snickered. "Am I tickling you?" she asked.
He didn't answer. He just narrowed his eyes and glared at her as she began concentrating on moving the molecules back in the right place.
Isabel stared at him. She couldn't get his face to change back.
"Having trouble? That's because there's no point in changing me… into me!" he shouted, his eyes bulging. "I hope your friend likes his new planet!" DuPris said as he dashed out of the room.
Isabel started to tremble. "What have we done?" she asked.
Max replied slowly, "We sent Alex through the wormhole."
[ front blurb]
FRIEND OR FOE?
Isabel took a step toward the door, then Adam grabbed her arm.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered. She tried to pull her arm away, but Adam tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her bare skin.
And then they were connected. But it wasn't like any connection she'd ever experienced. This was a violation. The images were being ripped from her mind.
She tried to scream, but the muscles in her throat contracted, as if they'd been squeezed by a hand jammed down her mouth.
A flood of images pounded into Isabel. Too many. Too much. Blasting her raw brain.
She opened her lips again. "Michael." She forced the word through her bruised throat. "Michael, help. Please…"
[ Version History]
1.0 – scanned, formatted, and spell-checked from mass-market paperback.
2.0 – July 12, 2004 – The_Ghiti – proofed in detail against deadtree format.
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