by Vicky Savage
Asher’s the only other Transcender I’ve ever met. He tried to explain what the Transcenders were all about during my last stint in Domerica, but I always had my hands full with other things and never took the time to hear him out. I’ve regretted that decision at least once a day every day since I was unceremoniously dumped back in Madison.
“You’re going to help me do this thing?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, and you’re going to love it. The first shift can be a little scary, but there’s no bigger rush in the universe.”
The door opens again and Mr. Nordgren pops his head in. “They’re waiting for you, Agent Ralston,” he says. “Time is of the essence.”
“Tell them I’m coming,” Ralston replies. He turns to me. “Before I take my leave, there are a few things I must go over with you. Your point of arrival will be inside the Cleadian compound. Melor and his wife, Bithia, are expecting you. Oh, and before I forget …” He fishes in his jacket pocket and extracts two Hershey’s candy bars. “I’ve promised Melor chocolate. Please be sure he gets these. He’s quite the chocophile.”
I stash them in the pocket of my hoodie.
“Your father and I will come to fetch you, late this evening or early in the morning. Ryder is spending a few days at the Enclave to pick up supplies. He should be there when you arrive.” An involuntary shiver shakes me at the mention of his name. “We’ll spend the night there, and then take you on to Warrington to be with your mother.”
“Got it,” I say.
“Now, may I have your cell phone?” He stretches out an expectant hand.
“My phone? But no, Ralston, please. Can’t I keep it? My life is on that thing. It has all my music and everything.”
“That’s precisely why it must stay here. You cannot possess such a device in Domerica.”
“Please, Rals. I won’t let anybody see it. I promise.” He impatiently wiggles the fingers of his outstretched hand. “Ah hell. That’s just brutal,” I whine, reluctantly releasing it to his custody.
“I assure you it will be returned to you if and when you find yourself back on this earth. Meanwhile, mind your language, Princess.” He smiles. “Bon chance, old girl.” He gives me a two-fingered salute before slipping out the door.
“Am I really going to be able to do this?” I ask Asher.
He laughs. “Of course. I have a little something here that will ensure your safe arrival.”
He hands me a shiny black box. “Open it.”
I raise the lid to reveal a beautiful gold cuff bracelet with an interesting octagonal silver medallion in its center. The medallion has three small shooting stars running diagonally across the face. Each star is inlaid with a tiny diamond. “You brought me jewelry?” I ask.
“It’s much more than that. It’s a TPD, a trans-dimensional positioning device. Essential tool of the inter-dimensional traveler. Go ahead, put it on.”
Carefully lifting the bracelet from the box, I examine it. An inscription inside says: timeas non plures semitas vitae and underneath, Jaden Beckett. “Hey, this has my name on it.”
“It’s yours. Every Transcender has one. This one’s programmed especially for you.”
I slip it on my wrist. It looks awesome. “Wow, thanks. What’s the decoration on the top?”
“That’s the Transcender symbol, a kind of a coat of arms, Streaming Stars. But it’s what’s underneath that’s really important. Release the latch on the side and open it up.”
I do as he says. The medallion opens like a locket, and instantly a three-dimensional hologram rises from the opening. “Whoa,” I say, moving my arm, causing the hologram to skew sideways. “What’s that?”
“It’s a holographic map. They’re called interstitial maps. They represent the different dimensions. Transcenders chart them. Hold your arm straight so you can see it.”
I bring my arm up horizontally so the map is at eye-level. Familiar looking streets and buildings loom in front of me. “Is this Madison?” I ask, turning my wrist from side to side to get a better view.
“And surrounding areas, yes. See that green dot there? That’s you. The purple dot next to it is me. It shows you where you are at all times, and the locations of the other Transcenders. Down here,” he points to a virtual keypad at the bottom of the image, “you can program in the coordinates for any destination you like, and it will take you there in a flash. Just double-click the latch on the side of the medallion.”
“For real? Like anywhere?”
“Yeah.”
“Why does it say ‘Earth 7Y12’?” I ask.
“That’s the designation for this world. That’s where you’re from.”
“Really? Show me some more. Where are you from?”
“Hold your wrist steady.” He touches a few keys on the virtual pad. ‘Earth 39G428’ shows at the bottom of the image, and a new holographic map rises, replacing the map of Madison. It doesn’t look like Madison did at all. Buildings are crammed close together and, besides a few main thoroughfares, the streets are narrow and crooked. No green or purple dots show up in this hologram, but I see a red dot moving slowly in the outer corner.
“What’s the red dot?” I ask.
“That’s the location of your mirror on that earth. It’s important you avoid shifting in too close to your mirror. It can cause all kinds of complications, as you know from your last little journey to Domerica where you wound up in the princess’s body.”
I shudder at the memory. The princess was supposed to have died after a fall from a cliff, but I accidentally got shifted into her body, changing everything that had been predestined to happen as a result of her death.
Ralston explained the whole thing about parallel lives to me by using a meteorological example. He said, “It’s like when a hurricane heads toward land and the weather centers generate spaghetti models of the potential paths of the hurricane by feeding the best information they have into their computers.” According to Ralston, it’s similar when someone is born—all the potential paths of their life can be charted like a spaghetti model based on the trillions of possible decisions they might make. “Except,” as he explained, “one must layer that spaghetti model on top of all the other models for all the other universes in the multiverse, which are legion, and that’s the number of possible paths a person’s life might take.”
Just as with hurricanes, though, sometimes things go wrong and a person veers off on a path that was never predicted. That’s what happened to me when I got shifted to Domerica during that storm. It was like I jumped the tracks and ended up in a completely different life.
“I’ll teach you a lot more about the TPD when we have the time,” Asher says, “but right now I think the Cleadians are expecting you. I’ll program in the coordinates of Domerica.” He presses a few things on the keypad and another hologram appears. I recognize the dome, and my heart beats faster.
He manipulates the map with his fingers moving to the west of the dome. “This is the Cleadian Compound.” He points to an odd-looking structure just outside the dome and enlarges the area by spreading his thumb and forefinger on the image. “These rooms are Melor’s residence. And this little room is where they want you.” He uses his index finger to zero-in on a spot. “If you don’t have exact coordinates, you can lock-in the desired location by pinpointing it with your fingertip. Then press ‘enter,’ right here.” He demonstrates. “And you’re set to go. All you need to do now is double-click the latch and you’ll be on your way.”
“Okay, that sounds simple enough. How come Ralston didn’t use one of these?” I ask.
“They only work for Transcenders.”
“Oh.” I take a deep breath. “So that’s it? Are you sure? Just click the latch?”
“Yes. I’ve done it a million times. It’ll take you exactly where you want to go.”
I squint at him. “I’ve never seen you use one of these things when you shift in and out.”
He grins. “Experienced Transcenders don’t need them very often.
Only when we’re going someplace we’ve never travelled to before. But I wear mine all the time, just in case. I used mine to get here today.” He shoves up the sleeve of his jacket and shows me his TPD. It’s a black leather cuff with a pewter medallion on top bearing the same three-star symbol.
“What’s the meaning of the streaming stars?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” he says. “Now, are you ready?”
“Wait a minute. You’re coming with me, right?”
“I can’t. I’m in the middle of an exploration. I left my partner alone so I could be here for you, but I need to get back. I’ll check on you in a day or two.”
My heart bangs against my chest like a bird trying to escape a cage. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Ash. What if I screw up? You’re sure all I need to do is click the latch twice?”
He smiles his sexy little smile. “I’m sure.” Stepping close to me, he zips my hoodie all the way up, and kisses me on the cheek. “You’ll be fine, Beckett. Good luck and have fun!” He steps back. “Come on. You can do it!”
I take another calming breath and double-click the latch. For a nanosecond nothing happens. Then Zzzt!
FOUR
Woohoo! I’m flying through silken space. The whoosh both stings and tickles my skin. My entire body is brilliantly incandescent, and is actually streaming stars. It’s utterly surreal. I see only shades of light and shadow—a flash of color here and there. Then, after an eternity of seconds, a room becomes visible. But, disturbingly, I’m looking straight through the wall I’m hurtling toward … until, abruptly, everything comes to a halt, and I’m on solid ground again.
Part of my body still thinks it’s flying, and I clutch the table beside me to steady myself. Melor rushes to my side.
“Oh wonderful, you’re here. We’ve been waiting for you.” He grasps my arm and holds out a small basin for me. “Take this. You may need it.”
I do as he says, but when I release my hold on the table, I instantly sink to my knees and throw up all over the immaculate white floor. My nausea abates at once, but I’m totally embarrassed at my less-than-graceful entrance.
“I am sooo sorry.” I hobble to my feet, still holding the basin. Only now do I realize why he gave it to me.
“No need to worry.” He spreads a small towel over the mess. “I’ve heard the first time is always the worst,” he says, leading me to a single bed covered with snowy white linens. “Why don’t you lie down a moment and rest? I’ll summon Bithia.” He cocks his head toward the door as though he’s going to call out to her, but says nothing. Then I remember, Cleadians communicate among themselves mostly through mental telepathy.
Sinking into the incredibly soft feather bed, I close my eyes and exhale. Oh man, that was an amazing ride—thrilling and terrifying at the same time. My synapses need a minute to reboot. I just travelled across I don’t know how many dimensions. Holy shit!
Melor quietly tidies up the floor as I rest. After a few minutes, new footsteps enter the room. I open my eyes to find a female replica of Melor hovering over me. Her hair is long and white, her soft face generously lined, her eyes an eerie milky blue. Melor introduces me to his wife Bithia.
“I’m so happy you made it safely,” she says. Her smile is crinkly and kind. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, thank you. Sorry about the mess,” I say.
“Don’t give it a thought, young one.” She extends her open palm to me. “May I?”
“Oh, sure.” I place my hand in hers.
Her eyes grow wide, and she releases me with a little giggle. “Fascinating! You’re my first Transcender.”
“I’m still kind of new at it,” I say. “Thank you both for allowing me to come here and for everything else … you know.”
“We are honored to have you,” Melor says. “We are most happy to be of assistance to the Transcenders and the Inter-Universal Guidance Agency. It’s not often we have such excitement in our midst.” Beaming and obviously pleased to be part of an inter-galactic intrigue, he rubs his hands together eagerly. “Now, do you have kisses for me?”
Huh? I cover my mouth. “Dude, I just threw up. Plus, I don’t really know you that well.”
Raising a gnarled knuckle to his lips, he stifles a laugh. “No child, you misunderstand. I mean Hershey’s. Ralston promised me chocolate.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. No offense.” I sit up on the edge of the bed and take the candy bars from my pocket. They’re in perfect condition, which is amazing considering the trip they just made. I give the bars to Melor. He holds them as if they’re solid platinum.
“Bithia, look Hershey’s bars,” he says reverently, transferring one to her hand.
She smiles. “How wonderful.”
Melor puts his nose close to the brown wrapper and inhales deeply. “Aah, just splendid. Have you ever been there?” he asks me.
“Been where?”
“To Hershey, Pennsylvania, on your earth?”
“Uh, no.”
“You really must go if you have the opportunity. They say the air is so thick with chocolate you can almost taste it.”
I nod. “All right.”
“Let me put these in a safe place for later,” he says, retrieving the other bar from his wife. “Bithia will get you a change of clothing, and we hope you will join us for dinner.” He glides from the room.
Bithia opens a closet and takes out a beautiful white robe and sash similar to the one she is wearing. “I believe these will fit you, my dear. You’ll find slippers on the shelf, and the bathroom is well-supplied. Leave your other clothes on the chair, please. Agent Ralston has asked Melor to destroy them, for security reasons. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. That’s all right.” Damn Ralston! These are my favorite jeans.
“Why don’t you take some time to refresh yourself? I will come for you at the dinner hour.”
“Thanks,” I say, fingering the lush fabric of the robe.”
Peeking out from under my sleeve, the TPD bracelet sits securely on my wrist, seemingly intact. The star symbol makes total sense to me now. I undress and slip into the long robe. It’s luxurious against my skin. A small white bathroom is connected by a metal door, and I check out my reflection in the mirror. I’m nervous about seeing my Domerican father again, since I’m in my own body this time. My hair’s shorter than the princess’s, but it’s the same honey-brown shade as hers. It falls to the middle of my back instead of well past my waist. Other than that, the princess and I are identical: same frame, our mothers’ green eyes, same voice, although we have slightly different vocabularies. In Domerica, I need to drop the Americanisms from my speech. Slang is out. Words like “okay” and “dude” are unheard of.
After freshening up, I’ve nothing to do. The lighting in my small chamber is subdued. The room is spotless, with shiny metal walls and a compact white table and chairs. No books, trinkets, or decorations of any kind are visible. I open a couple of drawers. Nothing. My only option is to lie down again and wait until Bithia comes to collect me for dinner.
* * *
Next thing I’m aware of, Bithia is beside me, gently patting my shoulder. “Wake up, my dear,” she says. It’s dark, and my body feels heavy like I’ve slept for hours.
Slowly focusing on her sweet, grandmotherly face, I say, “I’m sorry. Did I sleep through dinner?”
“Yes you did. We thought it best not to wake you, but there is someone here to see you.” She stands, and my father takes her place at my bedside. As his eyes connect with mine, his face becomes a shifting landscape of emotion. I can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or cry. Actually, he does both.
“Jaden!” he chokes. “I did not dare to hope it was true, but here you are.” He sits on the edge of my bed and hugs me fiercely. “I always felt you would come back to us. But this is nothing short of a miracle.”
Over the moon to see him again, I cling to him for all I’m worth. Vibrant and handsome in his dashing Domerican clothes—billowy white shirt
, leather vest, riding pants, and boots—he’s so outrageously happy to see me, I can’t help but get teary-eyed myself. Guilt tugs at my heart because I can’t be entirely honest with him about where I’ve been this past year. But I silently vow to make it up to him.
“Father, thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry my disappearance caused everyone so much pain.”
“Shhh. It was all worth it to have you back again,” he says, gently stroking my hair. “Ralston told me what you’ve been through. Are you truly all right?” His eyes search mine.
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks to Melor and Bithia. I’m just anxious to get home. I can’t wait to see Mother and Ryder and Drew.”
“They will be overjoyed at the sight of you, sweetheart. I’ve told them only that I have gone to investigate another rumor you’d been found. We’ve received many false reports of your survival since the fire, and were always disappointed in the past. I doubt that any of them is genuinely expecting to see you. This will come as quite a shock—but one of a most welcome nature.” He smiles and holds both my hands in his. “Ralston has informed you of your mother’s illness?”
