by Vicky Savage
“That’s so bizarre. Were you a soldier, then?”
He unclasps his hands and leans forward. Before he can answer, or tell me to shut up, Narowyn walks in. “Where is he?” she asks.
We both stand and Urick gestures to the lump on the table.
She examines Ralston’s mutilated torso. “Good lord, this is terrible.”
My hopes plummet to the basement. “Is there anything we can do?” I ask.
She looks to Urick. “Have you checked his AIN?”
“Yes. The model’s over forty years old.”
She shakes her head. “And his memory module and processor are not damaged?”
Urick shrugs. “He recognized her right away. He formed coherent sentences. We won’t know for sure until the techs check him out.”
Narowyn turns her attention to me. “Jaden, it’s late. You should try to get a good night’s sleep for your journey tomorrow. We’ll do everything we can here. The Automaton Identification Number indicates this model is very old. Replacement parts may not be available. Every effort will be made to locate them, but if we cannot, we may have to transplant his memory into a later model.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means we’ll restore him as best we can. Inside he’ll be the same Ralston you’ve always known. But he may look a bit different on the outside. Do you trust me to handle this while you’re away?”
“Yeah, as long as he’s going to be okay. I mean, I don’t care what he looks like if he’s the same old Rals.”
“That’s all I need to hear. We’ll do our best with what we have to work with.” She rests a hand on my shoulder. “Get some rest now, dear, you look tired.”
I start for the door, but Urick loudly clears his throat freezing me in my tracks.
“Uh, there is one other thing,” he says.
“What is it?” Narowyn asks.
“The lower half of Miss Beckett’s face may have accidentally been exposed.” He gallantly neglects to mention it was because I barfed all over the place.
Narowyn’s eyebrows pop up. “Oh dear. Well that may present a bit of a problem. I suppose we’ll just have to deal with that if and when it arises. No sense concerning ourselves about it until then.”
She waves me on. “I’ll see you in the morning, Jaden. Don’t worry about things here.”
TWENTY-TWO
Back in my apartment, my nerves are still wound up tight from the night’s little foray into covert operations. I scour my kitchen for something good to eat, since I lost my dinner on the ground outside the automaton facility. If there was ever an occasion for junk food, this is it. But people in Arumel are focused on eating healthy vegetarian fare, and so far I haven’t come across anything resembling Doritos on this earth. I settle for a jar of peanut butter and a bag of cut-up veggies which I take with me to the living room.
Kicking off my shoes, I curl my legs under me on the couch and suck peanut butter off a celery stick, while I reflect on the night. Ralston’s been rescued, even if a bit worse for wear, and I’m going home tomorrow to see my family and friends. For the briefest of moments, I experience a tiny glimmer of hope that I might feel happy again one day. But then Ryder’s image flutters across my mind, and I’m drenched in sorrow once more.
“TV on,” I say, and the television lights up. “Good evening, Jaden, the pleasant software assistant’s voice says. “What would you care to watch?”
“Something happy.”
“Movie or series?” she asks.
“Movie, and turn the volume to low.” I snuggle into the pillows, and eventually the TV lulls me to sleep. I spend the night on the couch. Why bother climbing into bed? The emptiness of it only makes me feel lonelier.
In the morning, I shower and sort through the meager selections in my closet wondering what to wear for my journey home. It doesn’t much matter since I’ll have to change into my own clothes as soon as I arrive. I tug one of the non-descript sack dresses off its hanger and slip it on over my head.
Small shivers of excitement ripple down my arms when I think about seeing my dad, my brother, and my best friend, Liv. I pull a colorfully embroidered cross-body bag that I bought at the Urban Bazaar from my dresser top. My polycom is already inside, and I tuck the sketch of Ryder into the zippered compartment before slipping the strap over my head. On my way out the door, I turn off all the lights. Our apartment doors have no locks, which still seems a little strange to me, but I guess it’s a sign of trust and safety inside the Chateau.
Narowyn’s already working at her desk when I show up at seven on the dot. “Come in,” she says smiling. “I’ve just received some excellent news.”
I take a seat facing her. “What is it?”
“Last night the IGC Court granted our request for an emergency injunction and temporary restraining order against IUGA. As we expected, the agency denied any involvement in the violence that took place in Domerica. We presented enough evidence, however, to persuade the court that we have a viable case against them.”
She passes a copy of the court order to me and summarizes its contents. “Based on the preliminary papers we filed, the court has ordered that neither IUGA nor anyone working on its behalf may maintain a presence in Madison, Connecticut while you are there. In addition, they and their agents may not approach you or have you under surveillance in any way while you are in Arumel City.”
“That’s great. IUGA must be completely pissed that I’m still alive. What do you think their next move will be?”
“I assume they’ll lay low until this matter has been fully resolved by the court. It would be too risky to do otherwise. The hearing on our lawsuit should be scheduled soon. I can’t imagine they’d dare take any action prior to the hearing.”
She opens a fat file on her desk. “By the way, this order means your physics teacher will no longer be employed by your school when you return.”
“Good. He was kind of a hard grader.” Something else occurs to me. “Hey, he still has my cell phone. Is there a way we can get that back?”
“Well I can petition to have your personal property returned to you, but it may take the court a few weeks to rule. Since you’re going home today, you may prefer to purchase a new one.”
“Oh man, that sucks. Those things cost a minor fortune.”
She smiles indulgently. “Perhaps I haven’t explained matters thoroughly yet, Jaden, but you needn’t worry about money now. You have access to all the funds you need, or in this case, want.” She pulls a thin blue leather case from her file and extends it across the desk. “Here is your banking information and cash card.”
I open the case and inside I find information relating to a checking account in England and a savings account in Arumel, along with a shiny new ATM card. “Barclays?” I say, reading the logo at the top.
“Yes one of the largest banks in England. Since, for outward appearances, you’re going to school there, it made the most sense. Your card will work at cash machines in the U.S. and all around the world, really.”
“We’ve deposited fifty-thousand British Pounds Sterling in your checking account and one hundred thousand Confederation Dollars, known as CDs, in savings. That should last you for a while, but most of us also carry a decent amount of local currency with us when we travel inter-universally.” She passes me a letter-sized envelope. “Inside you’ll find five one-hundred pound notes and ten U.S. one-hundred dollar bills. Upon your return, you’ll begin receiving a salary.”
The size of the numbers she just threw at me makes my mouth go dry. “Wow, thanks,” is all I can manage to squeak out.
“You’re most welcome, dear.”
Next, she takes a small accordion file from her larger file and slides it across the desk. “This is all your paperwork regarding Oxford University. Envelopes with the proper postmarks are inside—one congratulating you on your acceptance and another outlining your financial aid package. I’ve also included the address of your flat in Oxford along with photos
and keys.”
Narowyn closes her file and rests her elbows on the desk. “Now, do you have any questions for me?”
My head swims with all these new details, and I’m feeling a little like James Bond with the polycom inside my purse, a fat white envelope stuffed with cash, and a file full of falsified documents.
“I think you’ve pretty much covered it. What about Asher? Is he all set?”
“Yes, we went over everything last night while you were on your mission. Oh, and in that regard, we’ve already quietly sent out inquiries regarding replacement parts for your Ralston. Asher will provide me periodic updates on your stay in Connecticut, and I’ll keep him posted of our progress on Ralston’s repairs.”
She rises from her chair. “You have your polycom should you need to reach any of us in an emergency, and I advise you to wear your TPD at all times. It’s vitally important.”
“I will.” I gather up my bank case, the accordion file, and my envelope of moolah and stuff them inside my bag.
“Asher and Dr. McDonald are waiting for you in her lab. God speed, dear.” She kisses both cheeks.
“Thanks for everything, Narowyn. See you in a few weeks.”
I locate Dr. McDonald’s laboratory on the first floor and knock lightly. A grinning Asher swings open the door. “Hey are you ready for this?”
“I guess so,” I say.
A woman wearing a white lab coat and a strange set of goggles, whirls around to face me, and immediately staggers backward.
“Whoa!” she says, ripping off the goggles. “You gotta warn people when you walk into a room.”
“Excuse me?”
Asher gives a small chuckle. “Jade, this is Doctor Lucrezia McDonald. Doctor this is …”
“Ah, this gal’s corona has already introduced her. That’s quite a nimbus you got going on there.” She wipes her hand on the side of her lab coat and extends it to me.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,” I say, shaking her hand.
“I just mean your energetic imprint. Narowyn warned me yours is pretty intense. Like supernova status. Here put these on.” She shoves her weird goggles into my hand, and I do as she asks, positioning them over my eyes.
“Now take a gander at Asher,” she says. When I do, he appears to be glowing with a rich yellow light.
“Oh, cool. You look like an angel,” I say.
“Now look at your own arms,” she says.
I glance down at my outstretched arms. Dancing flames of orange and red light swirl around my hands and arms, leaping and licking like something alive.
“Yikes!” I shake out my hands, but the shimmering light remains. “That’s so creepy.” I yank off the goggles and rub my arms. “What is that stuff?”
Dr. McDonald laughs heartily. “It’s only light energy. Everyone has it. But for some reason you seem to have more than your share. I’d love to know why.” She studies me with a squinting gaze, then briskly claps her hands. “No time for that today, though. We have work to do. May I have your bracelet, please?”
I slip off my TPD and give it to her. “What are you going to do with that?”
She carries the bracelet to a table that holds a microscope, a giant suspended magnifying glass, and a number of other instruments most of which I don’t recognize. “Oh, I need to make a few adjustments for this little excursion back in time.”
Holding the bracelet behind the magnifying glass, she picks up a miniscule screwdriver and pops off the back plate. “Time travel is an art really. The folks at IUGA have made some strides, but their methods are still rather primitive. And the Garugians, forget it. They don’t have a clue.”
She gingerly extracts a tiny circuit board and places it under the microscope. “Course it’s easier for Transcenders. We don’t have to fool with all the machines and other falderal associated with inter-dimensional travel.”
Taking a small instrument from the table, she says, “This should only take a sec. We already adjusted Asher’s.”
Asher and I watch in silence as she works.
“Okie dokie. That should do it.” After replacing the circuit board in the bracelet and securing the plate in back, she opens the medallion on top and punches a few virtual keys.
“All set. You two come with me.” She hands me my bracelet.
I snap it on, and Asher and I follow the slightly eccentric Dr. McDonald to a darkened room in the back of her laboratory.
“Stand up against the wall there.” She gestures to one side of the room, and we position our backs to the wall. “This is going to shake up your system a little, so as soon as you land, pop this little pill.” She hands each of us a tiny blue pill. “It’ll settle your stomach and stabilize your inner ear. But don’t go swimming for at least an hour.” She chuckles, and I can’t tell if she’s joking.
“Brace yourselves. When I say three, click your latches.” She holds up her fingers. “One, two, three.”
Asher and I simultaneously click the latches on our bracelets and swhoosh!
The feeling is completely different from the usual exhilarating shift through dimensions. Instead of the incandescent streaming stars sensation, it feels as though my entire body is being powerfully sucked through a long, black tube the size of a hotdog. A dark, unholy terror begins to build inside me, but within a few seconds, my feet hit solid ground.
The world swings violently to and fro. My lungs feel flattened, and I drop down on all fours gasping for air. Asher’s cool hand touches the back of my neck, and his fingers place a small pill between my lips.
“Swallow this,” he says hoarsely. Grasping my shoulders, he eases me down to the floor. I lie on my back, eyes clamped shut.
In two or three minutes, I’m able to open my eyes without feeling as if I’m falling off the edge of sanity. Plain white ceiling doesn’t help me get my bearings. The opaque globular light fixture looks familiar, though. Ah, home. The thought gels in my mind. I made it home.
Turning my head to the right, I see Asher lying on the floor next to me—hands crossed over his belly, face waxen, eyes closed. “Asher?” I say softly.
He groans. “Can I trouble you for that other pill?”
“Oh sorry.” I dig the pill out of my pocket. “Here it is.” He opens his mouth and I place it on his tongue.
“Thanks, Ash. I really appreciate—”
“Don’t talk,” he mutters.
“Okay. Sorry.”
Gathering myself into a sitting position, I prop my back against the couch and survey the room. Something seems a little off, but I can’t put my finger on it. The clock on the DVR reads 11:10. I’m not completely certain of the time Ralston and I left here, but I believe it was around eleven on Saturday morning, exactly thirty days ago. If everything went the way it was supposed to, we’ve arrived back here on the same day, just a few minutes after my departure.
“Are we in the right place?” Asher asks. His eyes are open, and he looks a little less like day-old oatmeal.
“Yeah, this is my house, but something’s different. Or maybe it’s that my brain was just squished down to the size of a peanut.” I raise both hands to my head to make sure it’s back to its normal size.
Asher props up on his elbows. “That was one of the more unpleasant experiences of my life.”
“Ugh, same here. Hey, do we need to do that again when it’s time to go back to Arumel?”
“No, everything adjusts if we’re going the other way. We’ll end up in real time.”
“Whew. That’s good to hear. Are you ready to stand up yet?”
“Yeah, I think I’m fine now.” Using the coffee table for support he hauls himself to his feet and offers his hand to help me up.
I spot my laptop on the table. “The time of day seems about right, but let’s check the date on my computer.” I open up the lid and the screen lights up. I type in my password but instead of my home page, my last Google search comes up.
“Zambia?” Asher says. “Were you planning an exotic vacat
ion?”
I quickly exit out—as if I needed another reminder of Ryder and the constant throbbing in my heart. “No. I was searching for something, but I won’t be needing that information after all. Looks like we’re here on the correct date.”
Asher pulls out a chair. “Mind if we sit for a minute? I’m still a little woozy from the trip.”
“Sure.” I rest my elbows on the table and prop my chin on my hands.
“So, what’s in Zambia that you won’t be needing anymore?”
I sigh. “I’d just located Ryder’s mirror on this earth when Ralston showed up to whisk me back to Arumel. He’s doing volunteer work in Zambia, but he lives here in Connecticut. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever run into him. It would kill me.”
