The Universes Inside the Lighthouse

by Stucky, Pam

  “Emma,” he said, his dark eyes piercing into the young woman’s soul.

  She squeezed Charlie’s hand tighter. How did Vik know her name?

  “We know many things,” Vik replied to her unspoken question. The smile on his face grew sickeningly sweet. “You know us, too, Emma. Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.”

  I could just stay here and they wouldn’t even notice.

  “What?” said Emma. “Who said that?” She felt dizzy; glimmers of the dry planet with the two suns flashed through her mind.

  “You said that, Emma. Don’t be silly. Of course that was you. You’re smarter than the rest of them, you know. They hold you back, don’t they? Make messes you have to clean up? A waste of your time. They don’t realize how smart you are. They’re too busy paying attention to themselves,” said Vik, taking a step toward her.

  They wouldn’t even notice.

  “They go off and leave you sometimes, right? We know they do. This one, she’s so pretty, the boys all want to be with her? It hurts, doesn’t it Emma? Don’t you want to just leave all that behind? I know a way. We can help you. You don’t have to feel that anymore. You’re better than them. You deserve better. You … are special.”

  It hurts. I’m special. I deserve better. “I just … I mean …” Emma’s mind was reeling, so many voices inside, so much noise … she just wanted it to stop, she just wanted to be alone …

  No, Emma, don’t you see? The Void is already there. It’s been there a while.

  “It’s you!” yelled Emma. “You’re in my head! Get out! What do you want? Get out! Get out!” She shook her head violently to rid herself of the voices she felt invading her brain. “Stop! I know what you’re doing! Stop!”

  “Vik,” said Dr. Waldo, reaching out to the young man, “you’ve lost yourself. Come back. I have people who can help you. We can help you get rid of The Void—”

  “No!” cried out Vik, turning back to Dr. Waldo and lifting the weapon to his shoulder. “You cannot trick me! I was lost without The Void. You at the Hub would destroy us! No more negotiating! You had your chance!”

  As Vik spoke, fury raging in his eyes, Dr. Waldo rolled the Dark MATTER sphere over to Eve. She caught it and looked at Dr. Waldo in confusion.

  “Anywhere, Eve!” he cried. “Link arms, and swipe! Go anywhere but here!”

  Vik cocked his weapon and pointed it into the Hub.

  “GO!” Dr. Waldo yelled to the teens, throwing all his weight and all his strength behind himself as he flew at Vik, attempting to tackle him if it was the last thing he ever did.

  Emma, Eve, and Parallel Charlie linked arms and held hands for dear life. Eve swiped a finger across the sphere, with not the slightest idea what would happen next.

  What they experienced was worlds—universes—apart from the elevator’s boot-in-mud-sucking, metal-smoke-honey-scented trip. Instead, the three fell into nothingness, tumbling without bodies or space around them. They could feel themselves disappear, fading from the edges, until all that remained was a breath and a heartbeat. Complete silence. Empty nothingness, but with awareness, somehow, an awareness that was, separately and also together, Emma, Eve, and Parallel Charlie. In the micro instant of nothingness, Emma could feel the Hub. She could feel the everythingness that was the Hub, the infinite possibilities, all the universes within her and herself within all the universes, the point where everything blended and everything was possible, and for a moment she understood. Understood how to travel to the ends and to the beginnings, how to be anywhere and everywhere; she knew the answers without even knowing the questions. Then, quickly as it had started, she could feel her body coming back starting at the core, out to the edges, she was a thought, then a whisper, then a puff, then a being again, still somehow holding tight to Eve and Parallel Charlie, still alive.

  They were somewhere.

  At first, it took them a few moments to remember how to breathe and to see and to exist. The world around them seemed ephemeral and hazy. Emma blinked hard, trying to get her eyes to settle back into their sockets, but soon she realized the haziness was not in her vision, but rather in the landscape around her. Neither a fog nor dust but rather almost a film, a layer of thickness to the atmosphere, giving the air substance beyond what Emma was used to on Earth. Emma took a breath in; the air was breathable but somehow felt heavy on her lungs. She could feel the air’s weight pressing in on her from the outside; they could walk through it, but they could feel the air parting as they made their way through, as with water.

  “It’s the ghost universe,” said Eve, her words forming slowly, hanging in the air like a cartoon caption, as language and the ability to speak re-shaped themselves in the wake of their travel. “We’ve landed in the ghost universe.”

  “The ghost universe?” said Emma. “But … does that mean we’re … dead?”

  Eve looked at her, but had no answer.

  chapter eleven

  “At least we landed on solid ground,” said Eve, quietly, once they’d regained their senses and reliable use of their limbs. She held up the black sphere. Whereas before it was smooth and new, it now looked as if it was burned from the inside out, the black surface charred and flaking.

  “Did we break it?” asked Parallel Charlie.

  “It was a prototype,” said Eve. “Who knows. It doesn’t look like we can use it again, though.”

  The enormity of the situation did not escape any of the trio.

  Nor had the newcomers’ presence gone unnoticed by the denizens of the ghost planet they’d landed on. Wispy, willowy, half-there creatures of all kinds gave them a wide berth at first, gazing on them from afar with an aura of patience. All the time in the world, these creatures’ movements seemed to indicate. We have no need to rush, we have nothing but time. Now, however, the more curious, the more bold, the more devious, perhaps, were starting to come closer.

  A soft warm breeze swirled around the teens, gentle but unremitting. Emma shivered. She looked down at her arm: the bracelet was still there. She had no idea whether any of its components worked at this point, but she traced a finger over the amber stone, willing it to give her breath for as long as she needed to breathe here. She remembered well Dr. Waldo’s ominous warning about visiting the ghost universe: “People who stay there too long can’t return,” he’d said. “Not a good idea,” he’d admonished.

  And yet, here they were.

  “Eve,” Emma whispered with urgency, “is there an elevator here? Dr. Waldo said it’s not good to come here. We need to leave.” She felt jittery just being there, far from the languid calm of the permanent residents.

  “I don’t think our elevator will work right now. I don’t know what Vik did in there, but my guess is the elevator will need a good bit of time to fix itself again. If we could even find it, that is; if it even still exists,” Eve added bleakly.

  The idea sent a chill down Emma’s spine. If Vik could destroy one elevator, no doubt he’d start destroying them all. She needed to find Charlie, they needed to find Ben, and everyone needed to get home.

  “Aren’t there more elevators, though? You said there are dozens on our planet, maybe that’s the case here? If there’s one, shouldn’t there be more?” she asked.

  “That’s true,” Eve said. “Where there’s one elevator, usually there are several.” Her voice had a note of hesitation in it.

  “Usually?” Something about the word didn’t encourage Emma’s confidence.

  “Yes,” Eve sighed. “The ghost universe is different from the others we’ve seen. The ghost universe is kind of like the thirteenth floor on your planet. Not every elevator stops here. As far as we know, the elevator that links to your island could be the only one.”

  “As far as we know,” Emma repeated. There were those words again. Emma longed for nothing more than a little bit of certainty at this point. “Great. The only elevator we know of has been blown up, so we couldn’t use it now even if we could find it. The Dark MATTER thing is burned out. Can
we still use it, though? I mean, we have to try, right?”

  As they were speaking, a ghost glided nearer and nearer. Emma subconsciously brushed the air in front of her face, as though swiping at an invisible spider web. When she went on picnics, the sight of one ant would make her skin crawl for the rest of the afternoon as she imagined phantom ants crawling all over her. This was like that, though here the phantoms were made of death.

  The ghost that was approaching them looked like a woman, human-like in form, though not all the ghosts were. She wasn’t all gray and white, but neither was she full-color. She looked faded, somewhat transparent. Not like Dr. Waldo’s Experimental Building, which was solid one minute and gone the next, but rather something like slightly murky water: see-through, but still with her own structure and matter. The woman had short hair, cut in a bob, that looked like it must have been blonde or gray when the woman was alive. She was wearing a long loose flowing dress—many of the ghosts were, whether man or woman or other—with sleeves that came down to her wrists. The hem of the dress came to just above her toes, revealing the fact that she did not quite walk but rather glided through space, almost as though stepping out didn’t actually move her forward but rather indicated the direction in which she wanted to propel herself.

  The ghost floated nearer and nearer. Her gaze on the invaders didn’t waver as she approached, unblinking. She seemed neither threatened nor threatening, but yet very intense.

  When the ghost spoke, Emma nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Helloooooooo,” said the ghost, her lips turning up in to the vaguest hint of an amused smile. “Did we get lossst?” Her voice, echoing and meandering through the thick air, sounded as though it were coming through liquid, distant and murmuring. Emma found herself straining to hear. She stepped closer to the ghost woman without realizing it.

  “We’re sort of lost,” she said. “We’re not supposed to be here.” Emma sneezed.

  “Noooo,” said the ghost, her thin willowy shape drifting and shifting in the breeze. “Not yet. It is nice here, though, young lady. Maybe you will stay.” It wasn’t a question but rather a statement. “It is very nice here.” The woman drifted in circles around the trio, studying them. At length, she nodded. “I seeeeeee.” she said.

  “Do you—” Emma sneezed again. “Excuse me. Do you know if there’s a way for us to leave? We’re supposed to be somewhere else.”

  The woman’s amused smile grew. “We allllll say that when we get here. None believes she is meant to be here, but meant to be here we are.” Other ghosts started to come closer.

  “No, but we’re really not supposed to be here. We’re not dead,” said Emma. “Right? I mean, you can tell we’re not dead, right?”

  The woman looked Emma up and down, painfully slowly, top of her hair to tip of her toes, missing nothing. Emma could almost feel the woman’s gaze on her, like a laser through the fog. Emma sneezed, three times, in rapid succession.

  “Nooo, you are not dead. Give yourself tiiiime,” said the apparition. Then without another word or a backward look, the woman glided away.

  Parallel Charlie watched the woman disappear, then looked at Emma. “Are you allergic?”

  “What?” said Emma, sneezing.

  “Ghosts. Are you allergic to ghosts?”

  “What in the world are you talking about?” Sneeze, sneeze.

  “We can see ghosts on our Earth, you know,” he said. “Can’t you see them on yours? You look like you’ve never seen a ghost before. And I’d say you’re allergic. Not unheard of. My mom is allergic, too. It’s genetic. Emma and I got vaccinated when we were babies. The other Emma. Not you. Obviously.”

  “Obviously. You can see ghosts on your Earth?” Emma paused. Sneezed. “Okay, fine, you can see ghosts in Minsota. But a ghost allergy? A ghost vaccine? That’s ridiculous.” Sneeze. “How can a person be allergic to ghosts?”

  “Ghosts are made up of different elements than people. When you die, you get mixed up with other stuff in the universe. Ghosts have aeternitum, usually some pacium, and sometimes paenitine. Live people can be allergic to any of those, especially paenitine.”

  Parallel Charlie’s words meant nothing to Emma. “Aeternitum? Pacium? Paenitine?” she repeated. Was he just making these up?

  “Don’t tell me your Earth hasn’t identified those elements yet?” He shook his head with exaggerated sadness. “Clearly our Earth is better. You know, from the Latin roots. Aeternitas, eternity. Pacum, peace. Paenitet, regret. Ghosts have those mixed in, in some random measure. The goal is to become a ghost with lots of pacium, not as much paenitine.”

  Emma sneezed. Live people are especially allergic to paenitine, she repeated in her head. Paenitet, regret. The multiverse may be chaotic, she thought, but some things make sense. “Are they just hanging around everywhere, your ghosts?” she asked. “Do the ghosts of your family travel with you? Did you bring them to the island with you?”

  Parallel Charlie laughed. “Don’t be silly, Em! No, they don’t travel with us! Where would we put them in the car?”

  This alternative Charlie shared a sense of humor with her own Charlie—strange and off-beat—which gave Emma a sense of safety. She started laughing, which turned into a fit of sneezes. “I guess you couldn’t very well tie them to the roof of the car, either,” she said, in an effort to lighten her own mood.

  “Right?” said Parallel Charlie. “So look, I’m used to these ghosts, no worries, we’ll be okay. They’re just dead people. Or—” he paused, watching something very not-human-like glide by, “—or, they’re dead, anyway.”

  The curious cloud of ghosts swarmed closer, carrying with it a muddled hum of interest.

  “They’re making me nervous,” said Emma, squirming.

  “Me too,” said Eve. “We can see ghosts on Lero, too, but never this many at once. It’s a bit disconcerting.” She shuddered, then composed herself. “Okay. Let’s see … I guess, let’s see if we can find someone who can help.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s a Visitor Center?” said Parallel Charlie.

  “Doubtful,” said Eve, “but you never know. Stranger things have happened.”

  Indeed they have, thought Emma.

  Not sure what else to do, Eve, Emma, and Parallel Charlie began walking. An occasional building or structure made from large stones dotted the landscape, but for the most part, the ghost planet was undeveloped. Ghosts wandered around seemingly without aim; some gathered in groups for exchange of ghostly gossip, while others roamed alone. There were no roads, but neither was there much vegetation to block their way. The few shrubs they could see seemed almost out of place. When they came near one, Emma reached out to touch its needles.

  “It’s plastic!” she said, recoiling as though the shrub had stung her.

  “Makes sense, I suppose,” said Eve.

  “It does?” said Parallel Charlie.

  “Nothing living,” said Eve. “Planet of ghosts.”

  “But what about dead trees? Couldn’t they come here too?” asked Emma. Her sneezing continued in fits and starts. Maybe she was allergic to ghosts after all?

  Eve just shrugged. The planet was as much a mystery to her as to the others.

  The trio wandered for what felt like hours. Emma could feel her sense of time slipping away from her. Had they just arrived, or had they been here for days? Or perhaps, perhaps this was now home? She struggled to keep her mind clear, but her brain started to feel like the air: full of something, some thickness, imperceptible and yet undeniably there. As the fog in her mind grew, Emma started to feel warm and light, almost like she was floating. Life on the ghost planet might be rather nice, she thought. No worries, no school, no romantic entanglements to fret over, just this calm, peaceful feeling of drifting through a world without barriers. She was still walking but felt she might soon be able to glide, just as the ghosts did. She could feel the molecules of her body blending with the air, exchanging places, herself becoming more air and the air becoming more Emma.
It was good.

  Eve, too, was getting a glazed, blissful look on her face. Her movements became more slow, measured, serene. Only Parallel Charlie seemed to remain immune to the numbing effects of the ghost planet … so far.

  Eventually, they came to a small hill, at the top of which sat a long, low building. Like the other structures they’d seen, this was made of stones, similar to tumbled-smooth river stones, but enormous, each stone the size of a couch cushion. The entrance, an opening about five feet wide and a dozen feet high, had no door blocking inside from outside. There were no windows.

  “I guess we go in?” Eve said in a lulled state of uncertainty.

  Parallel Charlie led the way up the hill and into the building.

  Inside the entranceway, a ghost man sat behind a stone table. His face twisted into an amused smile much like that of the woman they’d met earlier. “You found your way here,” he said, with no questions about who they were or what they were looking for.

  “Do you know who we are, then?” asked Parallel Charlie.

  “No,” said the man.

  “Then what do you mean by ‘you found your way here’?” asked Parallel Charlie.

  “Everyone finds a way here eventually,” the man said, enigmatically.

  The planet’s sedation continued to hold its grip on Eve and Emma, but Parallel Charlie still had a clear head. “Who is everyone?” he challenged.

  “All who come here,” said the man, unperturbed, his amused smile unwavering.

  As he spoke, two figures appeared behind him, materializing out of the thick air, first just a ripple, then a wave, then fully present phantoms.

  “Grandpa?” said Emma.

  “Aunt Doethine?” said Eve.

  Parallel Charlie had been unable to pull Eve and Emma away from the ghosts of their dead relatives. From what he could glean from talking with the rather unresponsive man at the desk, new arrivals to the planet gathered at this building to reunite with whichever of their loved ones might have made it to the planet before them.