Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  Realizing this is actually possible, a swell of excitement bubbles up inside me. An involuntary smile blooms on my face. “Well, okay. Let’s go.”

  THIRTEEN

  Asher pushes up his sleeve and flips open the medallion on his bracelet. “I’ll take us,” he says, punching some holographic keys. He grabs my hand, double-clicks on the latch, and Zzzt! We’re streaming through the dimensions, sparks flying behind. My vision is obscured for a second, but suddenly the ground is racing up at lightning speed. Then everything comes to an abrupt halt, and we’re standing on a sidewalk. Asher puts his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

  “Great God Almighty! Do you ever get used to that?” I ask.

  “I hope not,” he laughs. “You okay?”

  I nod. I don’t feel as dizzy as I did last time, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to barf. I pull in a deep refreshing breath. The air is different here—richer, fuller, laced with intrigue, and crackling with energy. I take a moment to examine my surroundings and realize we’re standing on a green adjacent to an enormous metal structure. I tilt my head up, and my heart does a twirl.

  “Is that the Eiffel Tower?”

  Asher grins like a dopey kid. “Yep. I thought we’d have lunch at Le Jules Verne. It’s four hundred and ten feet straight up, inside the tower. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  Crowds of tourists mill around the base. Numerous nationalities are represented as well as assorted and diverse styles of dress—from colorful saris, to full black burqas, to mini-skirts and jeans. People pose and snap photos. Others seem simply to be enjoying the view and the glorious day. Asher takes my elbow and guides me under a taupe-colored awning through the doors to a tiny elevator. A uniformed elevator operator waits inside.

  “Bon jour, monsieur,” he says as we step into the car. “Le Jules Verne?”

  “Oui, merci,” Asher says, sounding very French.

  The elevator is carpeted in red and gold with a mirrored back wall, but even with only three of us inside, it feels cramped and claustrophobic. I’m relieved when at last we reach the appropriate level. The doors glide open, and I’m nearly floored by the view. The entire restaurant is glassed-in, and all of Paris lies spread out before us.

  “This is just …” I’m at a loss for the right superlatives.

  “I think spectacular is the word you’re searching for,” Asher says. “Give me just a minute.” He approaches the desk, where the distinguished-looking maitre d’ stands entering information into his computer. Asher speaks to him in French, and then discreetly slips some bills into his hand. I don’t recognize the currency, but it must be the right kind because we’re immediately shown to a table with an incredible view.

  “Bon appétit, mademoiselle, monsieur,” he says after seating us.

  The tables are set with crisp white linens, shiny silver flatware, and etched crystal goblets. A waiter instantly appears with our menus. “Bon jour. Voulez-vous l’eau?” he asks.

  Asher replies “Oui.” He looks at me. “Would you like sparkling or plain water?”

  “Uh, plain?”

  “Non gazeuse, s’il vous plait.”

  The waiter retrieves a large bottle of Evian and fills our goblets. I open the long, tasseled menu and scan the selections. All in French. Ralston tutored me in French last year, but I don’t recognize a thing.

  “Shall I order for us?” Asher asks.

  “Please.”

  He signals for our waiter. They have a short discussion in French, and the waiter leaves with our menus and our order. I think. I take a minute to admire the view.

  “That’s the 7th arrondissement,” Asher says, “the most expensive neighborhood in Paris. If we had more time, I’d show you around. It’s a remarkable city.”

  “So why is France the most powerful nation on this earth?”

  “Well, for one thing, Napoleon won the Battle of Waterloo in this existence. His troops were decimated, though, so he did the only thing he could in his weakened state—retreat back within the borders of France and sue for peace. His empire survived, and the government eventually evolved into a democracy. The country’s economy is thriving, they have the strongest military, and all the greatest scientific and technological minds choose to live and work here.

  Two flutes of golden champagne are placed before us by white-gloved waiters. “Anyway, welcome to Paris and to the Jules Verne Restaurant.” He raises his glass and I clink it with mine. “Named after one of the most famous Transcenders ever.”

  “Jules Verne was a Transcender?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Where do you think he got the ideas for his stories?”

  “You mean like Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea and Journey to the Center of the Earth?”

  “And others. All the fantastical creatures and bizarre landscapes were based on things he actually saw in other worlds.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you making this up?”

  “No, I’m not. If you give me the chance, I can show you.”

  I sweep my eyes around the restaurant and take a sip of champagne. “I don’t know. I think I’d rather experience more things like this instead of wrestling a giant squid.”

  He laughs. “That can be arranged too.”

  Our food arrives on delicate white china plates. Asher takes the time to explain each dish to me. A few things seem as exotic as some of the Domerican dishes I’ve tasted. He offers me a bite of his stuffed duck wing. It practically melts in my mouth. “Mmm …” I groan in delight.

  “It’s the foie gras,” he says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Extra fatty goose liver.”

  “Ew! Why did you have to tell me?”

  He laughs. “You asked. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

  I dig into my own dish, which is a small golden-brown game hen stuffed with chestnut and mushroom dressing, atop a savory cream sauce. It’s divine.

  “So enlighten me,” I say between bites. “How come Transcenders can travel to other dimensions and no one else can? I mean, how does it work?”

  “If you want the complicated quantum electrodynamics explanation, you’ll have to ask Dr. McDonald. She’s the physicist who studies Transcenders back home. She invented the TPD bracelets. I can give you the short layman’s version, though.”

  “That’ll do ... for now.”

  He rests his fork on his plate, a juicy chunk of filet mignon impaled on the tines. “All right. You know from science class that all matter is made up of atoms held together by electromagnetic fields. Well, there’s something about the electromagnetic fields of Transcenders that allows us to temporarily lose our mass so we can pass through space, time, and matter, to reach other realms. It’s like we convert from solid matter into an electromagnetic wave, but with a higher frequency than even gamma rays, which is what stars give off. That’s the reason a lot of first-timers get shifted during electrical storms. Lightning can sometimes trigger the whole process.”

  “That’s so weird. How come we don’t burn up? Aren’t gamma rays like laser hot?”

  He shrugs. “Hotter actually, but if you are the wave it can’t harm you.”

  I still don’t get it, but I have the feeling additional explanation isn’t going to help. “Okay, if you say so. But how is it controlled? I mean how do Transcenders get to a specific destination? How come we’re not all just popping in and out every time it storms?”

  “Well, if you use your TPD, it takes you automatically, but if you want to shift without the TPD, you do have to concentrate on the place you want to go and slip into that feeling you get when you’re shifting, it triggers the conversion. That’s what the streaming stars symbol is all about. It’s a learned mental process, but it becomes second nature after a while.”

  “Interesting. So you could teach me how to do it?”

  “Yep. I hope you’ll let me.”

  I turn my gaze out into the city, trying to fathom this strange gift I was born with. Wondering what it mea
ns for my future.

  FOURTEEN

  “So, do you have a family back home?” I ask, returning my attention to Asher.

  “I have a mother and sister. But they live on the earth I showed you on the TPD.”

  “You don’t live with them?”

  “No. I live in Arumel with the other Transcenders.”

  “Where’s that?” I ask.

  “Different earth. More advanced than most. I’d like to take you there sometime, if you’ll consent to go and meet the others. The Transcenders and other non-traditional types coexist peacefully with the rest of the population in Arumel. We have jobs, and we’re respected in the community.”

  “People know you travel inter-dimensionally and it doesn’t freak them out?”

  “The population of Arumel is a little more sophisticated than the norm. They accept the existence of other dimensions and life on other planets. The majority believe Transcenders perform valuable services for the community. We conduct explorations of other dimensions, report on scientific breakthroughs, the onset of new diseases, evolving social issues; any kind of useful information that might advance or improve society. Of course, IUGA is always trying to restrict our movements. They believe some of our activities interfere with destiny. But even they’ve gotten more cooperative under public pressure.”

  “Sounds amazing. I think I would like to go there sometime, after I get a few things straightened out in Domerica.”

  “Just say the word.”

  I’m curious about how Asher balances his double-identity, and I quiz him more about his family. He tells me he doesn’t get to see them often. It’s dangerous where they live. The comings and goings of every citizen are closely monitored by the government because there’s an underground rebellion going on.

  “It’s tricky, but I try to get home at least once a month to take them money or food or whatever they need,” he says.

  “You must worry about them.”

  “I do. But this way I can provide them things they wouldn’t otherwise have access to or be able to afford.”

  “Do they know you’re a Transcender?”

  He gives a short, sharp laugh. “Hell no. They think I’ve joined the rebel forces. A lot of men from our neighborhood in New York have done that.”

  “They live in New York!”

  “On a different earth, remember? The United States no longer exists on Earth 39G428. It’s a Soviet Socialist Republic.”

  “Oh my god, how did that happen?”

  “Ever hear of the Cuban Missile Crisis?”

  Asher explains that back in 1962, things turned out very differently on his earth than they did on mine, when President Kennedy and the Soviets played a dangerous game of “chicken” over nuclear missiles in Cuba. On his earth, there was a short but devastating nuclear war between the Soviet Union and the United States. The U.S. lost. The east coast was largely destroyed, including New York. It wasn’t fit for habitation again until the late 1980s. That’s when Asher’s parents moved there.

  With a tinge of sadness in his voice, he relates how his dad was killed during a robbery when Asher was only twelve-years-old.

  Things were hard for his family until, at age fifteen, he first discovered he was a Transcender. Laughing, he recalls how he thought he’d died and gone to heaven after shifting to a strange, lush land that hadn’t been devastated by nuclear winter. Smiling to myself, I remember having similar thoughts when I woke up in Domerica to the sight of Ryder’s beautiful face.

  “Anyway, once I discovered I had the ability to experience different worlds, there was no stopping me,” he says. “I went someplace new every day. I moved to Arumel three years ago to be with the other Transcenders. I’ve never looked back.”

  Engrossed in his story, I’m surprised when dessert arrives. I didn’t notice our plates had been cleared away. Asher ordered the house specialty for me, something called the Tower Bolt. It’s a dark chocolate torte with hazelnut ice cream on the side. His own dessert is a Vacherin cheesecake with wild strawberry and mango topping. They both look luscious. I take a bite of mine and nearly swoon from the velvety, sweet taste.

  I reach my fork over to sample his, and he looks a little offended or maybe just possessive. “I’ll give you a bite of mine,” I offer.

  Asher pushes his plate toward me. “Have all you want,” he says. “But you can keep yours. I don’t like chocolate.”

  “Seriously?” I ask aghast. “How can you not like chocolate? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Chocolate is the taste of everything good and pure in the world. That’s like not liking flowers or not liking puppies.”

  “Just one of the many dark and interesting things you have still to discover about me,” he says, flashing his enigmatic smile.

  I take another sip of champagne and realize I’m having a great time. It almost feels like a date. “Why do you always smile like that?” I ask.

  “Like what?”

  “Like kind of sexy and suggestive.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “No!” I scowl at him. “You’re flirting with me.”

  “I’m not. You’re not my type. That’s just the way I smile. I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. You don’t make me uncomfortable at all. You can wear that shit-eating grin all day for all I care.”

  He presses a napkin to his lips, only partially concealing his smirk.

  “We’d better get you home,” he says, “before your uncle sends out a search-party. I’ve heard his gang of henchmen is ruthless.” Laying his napkin on the table, he halfway rises.

  “Wait, Asher.” I put my hand on his arm. “Have you really heard that? I mean that my uncle has a gang of henchmen?”

  He sits down again. “It’s only rumor, really, but I heard he has some thugs that he sics on certain Domerican citizens whose behavior doesn’t conform to his standards. There’ve been instances of homes ransacked, crops ruined, horses poisoned. Stuff like that.”

  “By people working for Uncle Harold?” I ask in disbelief. “How did you hear about this? You hanging out in Domerica these days?”

  “No, but I did some checking on him when Ralston told me he and his daughter were living at the palace.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “We just needed to understand what kind of situation you were walking into there. Narowyn wanted to make sure you weren’t in any danger.”

  “Who’s Narowyn?”

  Narowyn Du Lac, the leader of the Transcenders. She’s the one who fought so hard to get you a second chance.”

  “Really? Well, I appreciate her concern for my welfare, but why does she think Uncle Harold is a threat?”

  “He’s got to be one pissed-off hombre now that you’ve come back to Domerica, and his little girl isn’t going to be queen anymore. I confirmed he has a couple of guys working for him, but I couldn’t trace any of this stuff back to them. Just watch your back, Jade. Harold tries a little too hard to come across as moral and upright. That’s always a red flag for me.”

  I nod, trying to process this. “Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”

  Asher leaves some bills on the table, and we wedge ourselves back into the shoe-box elevator. When we reach the beautiful grounds once more, I take a last look around and breathe in the sumptuous air. “Thanks, Ash. This has been great. Just what I needed.”

  “I’m glad,” he says. “Shall we go?” He takes my hand.

  “Whoa. Wait.” I pull my hand from his. “You’re not going to do it right out here in the open where everyone can see us, are you? We’re surrounded by tourists.”

  “Sure I am. People’s brains don’t really process it if they see us evaporate. They just make up some explanation for it—like they turned their head for an instant, or we weren’t really there in the first place. Trust me. I do it all the time. Besides, what difference does it make? We’ll never see these people again.” He scoops up my hand. “Hold on
tight.”

  Zzzt. Same light-speed, incredible journey and, just like that, we’re back in the clearing next to the lake. Everything looks the same, except the three fishermen are gone.

  “Thanks again for lunch,” I say. “And thanks for sharing your story with me. I had a good time.”

  He leans in and kisses me softly on the cheek, just a tad too close to my ear. His warm breath sends a shiver down my back. “We’ll talk soon,” he whispers. Then he’s gone.