by I. O. Adler
“Yeah. No, it’s not me. I promise. Come inside and we can talk—”
She left him without a word. Didn’t want to waste any more time. Once she could confirm Jenna was okay, she’d call this agent. But even as she hurried back to her car, her phone rang.
It was her mother. And this time it was a video call.
Her hand trembled as her finger hovered over the accept button.
No good would come from playing this scammer or prankster’s game. But she was too furious to let it go to voicemail.
“Listen, whoever you are—”
A choppy video close-up of her mother stared back at her. “Jennacarmen…your help…can you…me?”
“Mom? It’s Carmen. I’m here. Where are you?”
Her mother’s face was a slideshow. “…come soon…I can’t wait…can’t wait for long…”
“Come where? Mom?”
“Hurry…remember our Sunday place?…liked their pancakes…my sweet Jennacarmen…”
The video of her mother’s image appeared to freeze and the audio stopped. Then the call dropped. Her mother’s number appeared as the last incoming call. Carmen dialed but it rang once before an automated message began, declaring the number no longer in service.
Peter came up behind her. “Carmen, what’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
She fumbled with her keys as she opened her car door. “I’m fine.”
He kept talking as she put the key in the ignition. But his words were nothing but a blur. She called her sister but once again Jenna wasn’t answering.
“Jenna, if you’re there, I really need you to call me. Something weird’s going on. Call me right away.”
She’d drive to Jenna’s house. What other option was there? This prank was reaching a new level of nastiness. Her heart was in her throat. The voice, the image…it was all so real. She reminded herself that scammers could construct fake videos of anyone, and there was enough footage of Sylvia Vincent before and during her mission that a choppy video of her mom’s face would be simple work for a hacker.
She was upset at herself for reacting. Seeing her mom and hearing her voice was too much. And whatever criminal was behind this invasion of her life and her sister’s would only be emboldened by her anger and tears.
A van was heading straight for her. She swerved out of the way in time and realized she had been in the center of the road. She wiped her eyes. Tried to focus on her driving and where she was going. She wasn’t going to do anyone any good if she crashed.
Jenna’s place was several minutes away. But what had the message from “Mother” been talking about?
Pancakes? Sunday place? They didn’t have a Sunday place. At least she and her mom didn’t. Carmen had left home after graduating high school. Before marriage, Jenna had been alone with Mom. She had almost withered on the vine for lack of parental attention, with their father newly back and out of recovery but soon out of the house after the divorce, and Mom spending most of her time working at the Johnson Space Center in Texas.
Carmen had kept in daily contact with Jenna. And when Mom was back on the weekends, she would smother Carmen’s little sister and try to occupy her every waking hour. Going for drives. Outings to any museum, music show, and festival within driving distance. Sunday breakfast.
But Jenna had gathered a strong circle of friends, even if it had been the Jesus crowd at school.
Mom wasn’t pleased. While Dad had taken them to church when they were young, that ended after the first time he had left them. Mom had thought Jenna’s faith an infatuation. Jenna had related to Carmen the heated argument they had when Jenna tried to take Mom to Sunday church instead of one of their outings.
The Bumbleberry had been a coffee shop attached to a truck stop gas station just off 101 on the north edge of Garden Village. The old-school discount-breakfast 24-hour-a-day café had become a seedy place in its last years and had finally been shuttered. The For Lease sign had been up ever since.
The last time Mom and Jenna could have gone there was over four years ago. After that Mom had departed for training, and then came the mission. And the disaster.
Who would even know about Jenna and Mom going out for breakfast on Sunday?
The thought that someone had so much detail on any of their lives chilled Carmen. As she approached the freeway, she knew she should cross under the overpass and head south. But instead she gunned the accelerator and merged into the middling traffic heading north.
North towards the old gas station and coffee shop.
Chapter Six
Jenna’s hybrid was parked beneath one of the metal canopies. The pumps were long gone with only the concrete islands remaining. The gas station and restaurant were boarded up and the walls covered in graffiti. The old Bumbleberry sign still stood above it all, but the plastic and glass had mostly broken away, leaving a weather-bleached shadow of the logo.
Carmen pulled up behind Jenna’s car and got out.
The noise from the freeway carried across nearby pastures but the old property felt secluded. High walls of oleander and eucalyptus walled the lot off. The asphalt was cracked and choked with weeds. A playground lay behind the building, a feature Carmen didn’t remember.
This hadn’t been her place. She only recalled going there a few times when her parents were still together. Even back then the restaurant had felt old, frequented by the numerous retirees living in the nearby trailer parks on the north side of Garden Village.
But this had become her mother and Jenna’s special Sunday destination after Carmen had left home. Any lingering resentment she had about this evaporated with the grim thought that someone had drawn both her and Jenna there. And Jenna was nowhere to be seen.
With the car door still open, Carmen leaned on the horn. “Jenna!”
No one answered. Had her sister actually gone inside?
She went to Jenna’s car. Touched the hood. Warm. She wasn’t inside the car.
A blue truck drove down the dead-end road and turned in towards her. Peter sat behind the wheel. He pulled up next to her and got out.
She marched around the front of his truck. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you and was going to ask you the same thing. What were you talking about before you ran off? That’s Jenna’s car. What’s going on?”
“If you’re not the one messing with us, then it’s none of your business.”
“It is my business. I’m on the Peace Patrol. And if you’re in trouble, I want to help.”
“Whatever. Right now I need to find Jenna.”
She walked around the restaurant, looking for any open doors or windows. But the boards were all intact. Quite a few had black mold and the pressboard was swollen and separating. Only slivers of paint remained on the original siding. Rain gutters sagged. Accumulations of trash and tree debris sat in heaps in the front doorway. The domed black roof appeared intact, perhaps holding the rest of the structure up.
Peter had fallen in behind her and kept talking but she couldn’t follow the words.
Wisteria grew thick with purple blossoms along a wood fence near what had once been the outdoor eating area. She peered through the slats. A few wood picnic tables remained, gray and worn from the weather. But the gate had a chain holding it closed.
The outside dining area led to the playground. Here a chain fence replaced the old wood. It stood on concrete blocks and looked temporary. Food wrappers clung to the metal wire between the No Trespassing signs.
A climbing gym and a slide appeared ready to collapse at the next stiff breeze. A swing dangled on a single chain and its seat was broken. But a section of fence lay curled upward.
“Jenna?” she called.
Peter leaned in to look. “You can’t go in there. Let me check.”
“Get out of my way.”
She ducked past him and squeezed through the gap. While the property was large, this was the only place Jenna could have gone. The alternative, that her sister ha
d been abducted, lingered at the edge of her mind. But Carmen had no choice but to check inside before pursuing that line of thought.
A quick search of the playground confirmed it was vacant.
Carmen called out again as she pushed vines aside to get to the back patio. Garden Village had its share of junkies and homeless people and she didn’t want to surprise anyone. She discovered a side door standing open. Dark inside. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust.
She hesitated only for a moment. If Peter was in on this, then she was in trouble. But the way he tiptoed past the trash and the disgusted look on his face made her realize he wasn’t enjoying himself. The cocksure jackass from the night before was on hold.
The air was ripe with a mustiness that made her gag.
The kitchen was empty of any furnishings beyond a long bank of white sinks and a demolished stove that had been pulled away from the wall. The ventilation hood was gone, leaving only insulation hanging from the hole. The doors to the dining room were missing.
As Carmen stepped through the doorway, she froze.
What had looked like a dome from the outside was actually the top of a large sphere that occupied the dining room. Tables, booths, and a large portion of the ceiling lay crushed beneath it. It was as if someone had dropped an enormous bowling ball on the restaurant. Sunlight trickled in through the gaps in the ceiling. But the sphere itself reflected nothing.
She tried to make sense of the massive object. A water tank? A wrecking ball? Part of an airplane? But even with sections of the sphere obscured by the ceiling and collapsed floor, it appeared too perfect, too smooth. It bore no texture marks, making it unlike any object of stone, wood, or metal she had ever seen.
She reached for it.
The hairs on her arm stood on end and a prickling sensation ran down her spine.
Peter asked a question she couldn’t quite hear but could guess.
Without looking at him she said, “I don’t know what it is. But Jenna’s here somewhere.”
The sphere radiated no heat. The surrounding air wasn’t cold either. Somehow this strange object had dropped through the ceiling of an abandoned restaurant in the same place where the cons who had hacked her mother’s phone wanted her to be. It didn’t make sense. But at that moment it didn’t need to. She only had to find Jenna and get them both out of there.
Discovering an abandoned movie prop or weird objet d’art wasn’t worth any of the grief of the last day.
“Jenna, it’s Carmen. If you can’t answer, make a noise.”
A section of the sphere’s surface moved like small ripples passing across a dark pond. The effect ended as quickly as it had begun as the skin of the object again became still. But something stepped out of the sphere, passing through the gray material as if it were nothing but a shadow.
A manlike shape rose before her. It stood slim and tall, with backward-curving legs and a body thinner than her forearm. It seemed to be made of the same material as the sphere, opaque and perfectly smooth. Two wiry arms hung from its shoulders, ending in slender fingers that almost touched the ground.
Its head was bulbous and it lit up. The bright glow caused Carmen to squint and shield her eyes. An image flickered to life. Carmen found herself looking at her mother’s face.
A picture of Sylvia Vincent blinked hard as she gazed down at her daughter. She appeared confused. When she spoke, her voice crackled and buzzed. “Jennacarmen. You came to help me again.”
“Mom? I don’t understand. What is this?”
“This is us coming together again. As a family.”
Before Carmen could react, the mom-creature reached for her. Its hand grabbed hers and yanked her off her feet. The metal monstrosity was pulling her closer. The head of the mom-creature began to grow brighter. Peter was shouting, screaming, blaspheming. But his voice was drowned out as a high-pitched whine filled Carmen’s ears. The light from the screen flashed and blinded her. A burning sensation ran up her arms and covered her body.
The mom-creature wasn’t letting go, was too strong even as Carmen fought to pull away.
And the world went dark.
Chapter Seven
Carmen couldn’t breathe. As hard as she tried to inhale, it was as if a cement truck sat on her chest. She desperately clawed at her face to dislodge whatever was keeping her from inhaling.
Found nothing.
Saw nothing.
Pitch-black.
The weight on her chest kept her from crying out.
A hum filled her ears. Soon it ran through her limbs and down into her bones. Sound upon sound. After her years of half silence it was overwhelming.
In the midst of the buzz came a voice. Soft. Soothing. Her mother.
“Wake up. Open your eyes. You’re safe. You’re with me.”
Carmen flailed, each second a fresh agony as she still couldn’t take in air. “Can’t…breathe…”
“Try. It takes some adjusting. Be calm. Focus. Look at me. But soon you’ll see you don’t need to breathe.”
The world before her eyes snapped into place. Her mom looked down at her. But not her mom. Her face was an image on a screen on top of the spindly metal skeleton.
Carmen cried out as she shoved the mom-creature away. She sprang up from a legless couch which appeared to be made from the same gray matter as the sphere. As she fought to balance herself, the couch melted away into the floor.
She lost her balance. The mom-creature moved to keep her from falling but Carmen swiped at her. The spindly machine backed away. Carmen teetered and grabbed at a wall to support herself. Then she saw her legs.
They were made of the gray metal, slightly darker than the ship and identical to the mom-creature. Her hands too, and her arms, and she realized she still wasn’t breathing.
Her mom’s voice remained untroubled. “It takes a moment to adjust.”
Carmen looked at her right hand. Two long curling fingers and a thumb clenched and unclenched. Then the hand rotated a complete circle. She instinctively winced in anticipated agony but the pain never came.
Her “body” below her neck was a thin shaft of metal running down to where her “legs” emerged, twin curved spokes which were somehow holding her up. But where was her body? How did she fit inside such a slender costume or container?
Impossible.
Had to be dreaming.
Cold. Hot. Bright. Dark. All her senses were on overload. She closed her eyes. But the soft sound of the hum was something she could latch on to as she forced herself to shut out all the other sensations. For the hum was no phantom sound. It was real and it softly reverberated through the gray floor and walls and ceiling.
Her stomach churned. She thought she would throw up. But as the urge to retch overwhelmed her a hand took hers.
“Focus on me. Focus on the sound of my voice. Your body will adjust. More importantly, your mind will.”
Carmen kept her eyes clamped shut. “What did you do to me?”
“I’m bringing you closer to me. Carmen…Jenna…I need you.”
“Where are we?”
“Inside the sphere. It’s safe here. Oh my sweet girl…my girls. How I’ve missed you.”
Carmen dared open her eyes. The world before her held an unreal thickness, dreamlike. Her stomach continued to roil. Her face felt too warm. But the suffocating sensation ebbed.
Sylvia Vincent’s face smiled at her from the screen on the head of the robot.
“Mom, what happened to you?”
“I’m alive. This spindlebot isn’t my body. And you’ve been placed in one just like mine so we can better talk.”
“I don’t understand. Where’s Jenna? What have you done to me?”
The image of her mom’s face flickered. “Jennacarmen…you’re here.”
“You haven’t told me anything. Where is here?”
A second flicker of her mother’s face, and the room vanished. All around her were stars. She fought a wave of vertigo as she spun about, finally looking up, wh
ere the circle of the earth loomed above her.
Drugged. Had to be. Or somehow she had been tricked to step inside the sphere and was experiencing some kind of virtual reality light show. She pushed the mom-creature aside and rushed past her, only to collide with the wall, which remained invisible but was as solid as brick. The floor was still there too. She struck the wall and the stars and Earth vanished.
The gray room once again surrounded her.
“Turn it off,” Carmen gasped. “Let me out.”
The mom-creature recovered her balance and stared at her for a moment. “Oh, looks like you’re waking up.”
“What do you mean? Wait!”
The mom-robot stepped towards a wall where a doorway now appeared.
Carmen moved to follow. It took several tries to walk straight, and she tottered forward, almost tumbling but for some mechanism inside her now helping her keep balance. With the floor and walls no longer translucent and her sense of down restored, she found herself able to hurry after her mother, who was walking briskly along a curved corridor and through another doorway.
Another thin robot stood in the center of the room. The face on the head screen was Jenna’s. And her sister looked terrified.
The mom-creature strode up to Jenna. “Focus on me, Jennacarmen.”
Her sister’s eyes were wide and they darted between the mom-creature and Carmen. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.”
The mom-creature caressed Jenna’s head. “You came for me, darling. I’m here. We’re together.”
Carmen held out a tentative hand and touched Jenna’s shoulder. “Jenna, it’s me. It’s going to be okay. I’ll figure this out. I’ll get us home. Mom, please tell me what’s happened to us.”
“Dear Jennacarmen, you’re coming to me. I almost lost you and won’t lose you again.”
“We’re both here, Mom, Jenna and me. But where are we? Don’t show me. Explain.”
Mom’s head turned in place to face her without her body moving. “In space. Closer to where I am. I need you. And then when the two of us are together we can—”
