Doorways to Infinity

by Geof Johnson

  “You still don’t have one in mind?”

  “I know of some possibilities. Can I borrow your gas analyzer? That’ll speed things up when I’m checking out new planets. I won’t have to worry about poisoning myself if I make a doorway to a world with a non-breathable atmosphere.”

  “It’s in my lab.” She scooted her chair back and stood. “You’ve never seen my lab, have you? I bet you’d like to. Let me give you a tour.”

  * * *

  Jamie sat at his desk, pressed the button on his laptop and waited for it to power up while he thought about what he needed to study. His dorm room was messy, more so than usual, with a week’s worth of dirty clothes spilling over the top of his laundry basket, shoes scattered over the floor, and books strewn across his bed.

  My bed. He looked at it longingly, feeling a strong urge to fall onto it, pull the covers up to his chin, and take a nap. Sleep. His eyes grew heavier at the thought, but he was startled back to reality by a knock at his door. He turned and Bryce entered.

  “Dude.” Bryce’s expression was grave. “Busy?”

  “Well, yeah. Aren’t you?”

  “I got sidetracked when Melanie forwarded me a link. It’s a documentary she found on the NSA and how extensive their data collection has become lately. I really think you should watch it. It’s kinda scary.”

  “I don’t need to watch a documentary to be scared of the NSA. I’m as scared of them now as I could possibly be.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Really. You need to see this.”

  “Dang, Bryce, I’m busy.”

  Bryce didn’t budge. Instead, he stood nearby with his arms crossed. Finally, Jamie sighed and turned his laptop so Bryce could reach it. “All right. Show me.”

  Bryce typed in the web address and slid the computer back to Jamie. “Let me know what you think.” And he went back to his room next door.

  Jamie watched the hour-long video, and by the time it was finished, he was even more worried than before. He didn’t sleep well that night.

  * * *

  Both track teams trained in Rivershire the next day because it was raining in Cullowhee. White lines were now painted on the gravel, marking out the lanes, and Coach Harrison and Mr. Bass spent most of the afternoon session constructing the pole vault pit on the other side of the field.

  The grassy area encircled by the track was Rivershire’s first soccer pitch, with new goals at each end. Even though school had let out an hour ago, Aiven and a few other kids stuck around to play, kicking a ball and chasing each other wildly, oblivious to the rules of the game.

  Jamie grimaced as he finished his last lap around the track, Bryce and the other distance runners finishing with him, all of them gasping as they slowed to a walk. Coach Dave, who stood at the edge of the first lane, checked his stopwatch and said, “Good work. Get some water and put your sweats on. It’s cold.”

  A girl’s voice called from behind. “On your right!” Jamie and the other boys stepped aside, and Celia and Rosa zipped past. Three other girls followed right behind them.

  Jamie walked off the track to the chaos of athletic bags that lay in a pile on the ground. He found his, pulled out his purple sweat pants and matching hoodie, and put them on. Then he stepped away to be by himself for a moment, and he stared vacantly at the school building. What’s going to happen with that if I close down the doorways? Will someone still teach there, or will one of Mayor Duncan’s friends take control of it and convert it into a warehouse, like the last school? Will all of our work be for nothing?

  He didn’t have much time for deliberation, though, because he heard someone call his name and he turned to see Frankie and Allison, the team captains, striding his way.

  “We need to talk to you,” Frankie said as they neared him. A handful of their teammates, who also had their sweats on, seemed to notice them and followed.

  “What this about?” Jamie said, suddenly concerned by the serious looks on their faces.

  “We just talked to Bryce.” Allison put her fists on her hips. “And he told us that you might close up all of the doorways to Rivershire. He said you’re scared of the NSA and everything, now.”

  By this time, several more runners had joined them, standing with Frankie and Allison, and more were coming. Most of them, Jamie noted with dismay. “Uh…I’m just thinking about it. It’s not for sure yet. I’m just a little worried, that’s all.”

  “You can’t close them down,” Allison said firmly. “You just can’t. We have to keep training here.”

  “Why? It’s not nearly as good as our home track.”

  Frankie pointed at the ground and thrust out his chin. “This is our home track, now. I helped make it, and I like it. That’s the way I feel about it.”

  “Me too,” Allison said, and a few other teammates muttered and nodded.

  “Besides,” Allison said, “I’m seriously thinking about working for Rivershire Enterprises when I graduate, and I can’t do that if you shut the doorways.”

  “Rivershire Enterprises? Is that what my granddaddy calls the company now?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “Uh, no, but I haven’t talked to him in a while. I’ve been busy, and I can’t talk about stuff like that over the phone.”

  “He told us there’s a job waiting for us,” Frankie said, “me and Ivan and Allison, soon as we graduate. He said we’d have to move to Hendersonville, but that’s no big deal.”

  “But if you shut down the doorways, we’re out of a job,” Allison said. “In the meantime, we wouldn’t be able to run here anymore, and that would suck in a big way.”

  “But that doesn’t matter, really,” Jamie said. “We can run in Cullowhee just the same, or better, probably.”

  Frankie shook his head. “There’s no comparison. Back in Cullowhee, we’re just an ordinary team. Not all that good, either, if you want to be honest. We’re lucky we still have a men’s team. We might’ve fallen apart completely if we hadn’t started coming here.”

  “I don’t think so. We were doing all right.”

  “No we weren’t,” Bryce said. “You heard what Coach told us, back when you first let him know about the magic. The team had some serious problems, but not anymore. Not since we’ve been running here. Everything’s cool.”

  “I agree with Bryce and Frankie,” Allison said. “This place makes us special. It makes us more of a team. We run harder here ’cause everybody gives one hundred percent when we work out, and it shows. We’ve been doing a lot better in our meets.”

  “Yeah, we won two out of the last three,” Max said from behind Frankie. “That’s pretty good, for us. I don’t even remember the last time we won a meet before we started training here.”

  Frankie nodded firmly. “We’re a really good team right now. The best I’ve been on in my four years at WCU. If you shut down the doorways, we might not be so hot. I’m afraid we’d slip back to our old mediocre selves.”

  “I don’t think we’d be mediocre,” Jamie said.

  “Well, it’s the mediocre effort and attitude I’m worried about,” Frankie said. “That’s what hurt us before. We have enough talent, I believe. It’s just getting the best out of everybody that’s the hard part. Running here in Rivershire has made that happen.”

  “Fred’s healing jelly is a big help, too,” Alberto said. “My knees feel great since I used it.”

  “My shin fractures went away, too,” Max said, “thanks to that stuff. I don’t think anybody’s injured right now. Are we going to have to quit using the healing jelly, too, if you shut down the doorways?”

  Jamie flung his hands wide. “Have you stopped to think about what might happen if the U.S government, or any government, finds out about the magic? It wouldn’t just be me and Fred and Rollie and Nova who are affected. They might come after you, too, all of you.” He shook an accusing finger at the group before him. “You’re involved with this…this…whatever it is we’re doing, because you know too much, now.”
>
  “But that’s our choice, Jamie,” Allison said, “to be involved. We’re aware of the risks. Bryce has been keeping us informed.”

  Jamie looked at Bryce and tried to catch his eye, but Bryce suddenly seemed interested in the fingernails of one hand. “It could be bad,” Jamie said. “I mean, really, really bad. Like, they might take you away to a secret facility to interrogate you, and not tell your parents or friends or anybody. They could keep you there as long as they want, and there’s nothing you could do about it. That’s what Eric and Terry said.”

  “I say it’s worth it,” Allison said. “To be able to come here and do this? I’m running on another planet. Can’t beat that. It’s an easy choice for me.”

  DeSean stepped forward and said, “Bryce said you guys call yourselves the Crew. I want to be part of that, too. I think we all do. I think we should get tattoos.” He touched his upper arm near the shoulder. “The Crew. Right there, blue ink.”

  Allison frowned at him. “I don’t think so, DeSean. It’s not a secret when you have a tattoo.”

  “Still.” He shrugged. “It would be cool.”

  “I don’t know about this.” Jamie shook his head and tightened his mouth. “Gets kinda dangerous when you get that involved.”

  “I don’t care,” DeSean said. “I want to help.”

  “We all do,” Frankie said. “You took a chance on us by telling us about your magic and letting us come here, so I think we owe you something in return.”

  “I don’t keep score on that kind of stuff.”

  “We want to help anyway,” Frankie said. “In any way we can. You just name it, and we’ll be there. We might not have any magical powers, but we can be useful.”

  “You have to do the chant, first,” Bryce said with a grin.

  Jamie rolled his eyes and groaned, “Aw, come on, Bryce. Not that.”

  “Yeah, we have to do it. Everybody circle up and put your hand on top of Jamie’s. Then you gotta say We’re the Crew, we can’t be beat, everybody smell our feet.”

  Several of them laughed as they clustered around Jamie. Jamie gazed at all of them, into each of their faces, and said, “You’re sure about this?”

  “We’re sure,” Allison said. “Anybody who doesn’t want to do it can step away, right now, no questions asked.” No one did. All of them looked at Jamie with determined expressions, packed tightly together.

  Jamie took a deep breath and said, “Hope you don’t regret this, but…here we go.”

  They shouted out the words to the chant while Jamie summoned his will, and the magical glow from their hands and arms was brilliant, as bright as any Jamie had ever experienced.

  * * *

  That night, Jamie made a quick trip to Eric and Terry’s house, alone. After he went through the doorway into their living room, Terry said, “Why are you by yourself? I thought you said it was important to include all your friends in our meetings.”

  “I’m in a hurry, and there’s something we need to discuss.” He told them about the documentary on the NSA he’d watched the night before and the two agents listened indifferently.

  Eric gave a small shrug and said, “I thought you knew about all that. But to be honest, Terry and I have made use of some of the data they’ve collected, though not that much on our current assignment.”

  “Have you snooped into the NSA’s files lately to see if they’ve been looking into our, uh…magical activities, I guess you’d say?”

  “I haven’t checked in a while. I told you we have to be very careful about that, because if we do it too often, it’ll raise a red flag.”

  Jamie grunted and frowned. “What really worries me is that the NSA wants to get a quantum computer to analyze all the data they’re collecting. That would increase my chances of getting found out, wouldn’t it?”

  Terry shook her head. “Current estimates say it’ll be years before a functioning system will be available. That gives you plenty of time to figure out how to hide your tracks.”

  “Are you sure? How do you know they don’t already have a working model and are using it now?”

  “I’d know,” Eric said. “But the NSA’s data collection has helped us catch some would-be terrorists here in the US and abroad. What they’re doing isn’t all bad. It helps me with my job.”

  Jamie started to press the issue further, but turned his head away instead and blew out a long gust of air. “It scares me, though. A lot.”

  “We’ll keep a look out for you,” Eric said. “You’ve been a big help to us, so we can return the favor. We’ll be on your side. If the crap starts to hit the fan, Terry and I will help you deal with it and protect you.”

  “Even if it hurts your careers? It could, you know.”

  They both nodded immediately and Terry said, “Absolutely.”

  Jamie asked Eric, “How about you?”

  “Same here. The agency hasn’t exactly been doing much for me the last couple of years. I feel like they stuck me in the supernatural investigation unit just to get me out of the way.”

  Terry scowled. “I’m tired of being the brunt of the other agents’ jokes. If anybody calls me X-Files again, I’m gonna deck ’em.”

  I can see her doing that. “Well…I feel a little better.”

  “Something you ought to know,” Eric said. “Our boss may pull us out of Cullowhee soon. He doesn’t think we’re getting enough useful intel here.”

  “How soon?”

  “A couple more weeks, unless we can come up with a reason to stay here longer.”

  “Have you been back to visit the so-called witch in Sylva again?”

  “She’s a total waste of time, except that she’s our excuse for being here.”

  “Well, if Sammi overhears something useful soon, maybe you can give that lady credit, instead.”

  “That would help. Has Sammi heard anything lately?”

  “Not that I know of, but it could happen any time. It’s unpredictable. That’s the drawback of her special talent.”

  “It’s a heck of a talent, though,” Terry said. “She’s a human listening device.”

  “Except that we don’t have to risk our lives or hers to plant her on the scene,” Eric said. “Much better.”

  * * *

  After suffering through a few more sleepless nights, Jamie decided to visit Uncle Charlie on Sunday afternoon to get his advice on the doorways and the NSA.

  Jamie found the ancient Cherokee beside his small mobile home in Hendersonville, whittling next to an open fire, at the edge of an oval clearing scooped from the heavily wooded land, trees forming a dense curtain all around it. His old Ford pickup truck was parked close by at the end of a dirt driveway, but otherwise the yard was uncluttered. The lot sloped upward to the back of a small, tidy house — Annie’s, Uncle Charlie’s daughter. It had clean white paint over its wooden siding with green trim. Clay flowerpots, empty now, were lined up on the narrow porch.

  “Ho, Magic Man,” Uncle Charlie said when Jamie stepped onto the grass and closed the glowing portal. “It’s about time you got here. Pull up a seat.” He gestured with his knife at a tattered lawn chair next to him. A couple of the plastic straps that formed the bottom were broken, and Jamie eyed the unsafe-looking piece of furniture skeptically.

  “Looks like I might fall all the way through it.”

  “It’s all I got, unless you want to sit on a log.”

  “Nah. I’ll fix it.” Jamie grabbed two dangling strands of one of the broken straps and held them together. Then he summoned his will and the ends began to merge, flowing together until they formed a seamless bond like old friends.

  Uncle Charlie gave an appreciative whistle. “Nice trick.”

  “I got that one from Eddan. He used it to repair his clothes, since he didn’t have a woman around to sew for him.” Jamie pulled up the other two strands and repeated the process, and the chair appeared reliable again. Jamie tested it with a firm push on the seat, then plopped down onto it, facing Annie’s house like
Uncle Charlie, and leaned his elbows on the armrests. “That’s better.”

  Uncle Charlie gestured with his thumb at his ramshackle metal home behind him. “Got some more busted stuff in there. You can fix that too, while you’re at it.”

  “Some other time. I need to talk to you about something today.”

  Uncle Charlie nodded and turned his attention back to the long, heavy stick he held in his left hand, and he sliced off a length of bark from it with the folding knife he held in his right. “Okay, Magic Man. Shoot.”

  Jamie told him about the NSA documentary he’d watched and the conversations with his track team and the two CIA agents, while Uncle Charlie listened silently, whittling and slowly bobbing his head.

  When Jamie finished, Uncle Charlie said, “If Eric and Terry get pulled out of Cullowhee and sent somewhere else, it could be a problem.”

  “It would be harder to stay in close touch with them. I have to make doorways every time now, because we’re worried about electronic communication and eavesdropping. If they get sent back to Langley before we catch Phillip Cage, it’s going to be complicated when we need to meet. I have to have a safe place to open doorways, where no one will notice, like the house they’re in now.”

  “Maybe they won’t have to leave. Maybe something will happen and they’ll get to stay where they are.” The old man dipped his chin once. “I feel that it will.”

  “I’m glad you do, because I don’t.”

  “Trust your luck. Fate has a way of being kind to you.”

  “Kind? Is that how you look at it?”

  “Things have a way of working out for you. Be patient. You’ll see.”

  “Hmph.” Jamie tucked his hands in his coat pockets and stared at the fire, which burned inside a circle of large rocks a step away. “So what do you think about my making doorways and the NSA and FBI and all that? Do you think I should stop everything and lay low, before more agents in cheap suits knock on my door?”

  “Cheap suits.” Uncle Charlie laughed softly and folded up his knife, then slipped it into the pocket of his faded jean jacket. “I have never owned even a cheap one.” He rested the tip of the long stick on the ground and the other end between his knees and took a slow breath through his nose, gazing in the direction of his daughter’s back porch.