by R E McLean
“Let’s find somewhere less exposed.” He pulled her around a corner and along a couple of blocks. His head darted from left to right all the way, scanning the buildings. She looked up at the roofline, her chest tight.
At last he stopped and pulled her into a doorway. He grabbed the handle of the door and gave it an upward heave. The door opened and they fell through.
They were inside the foyer of a house, one of San Francisco’s historic Victorians. The floorboards ahead of them had a gaping hole and wallpaper was peeling off the walls. Above their heads, light streamed down from where the floors above and the roof should be.
“Is this were you’ve been hiding?”
“One of them. I’ve been moving around.”
Alex nodded. She stayed by the door, afraid that the floor would give way under her weight.
“It’s OK,” said Mike. “Come through here.”
He led her along a section of floor still intact and through an archway. Beyond was a living room with an ornate wooden fireplace and a couch covered in a layer of dust so thick Alex could imagine sinking into it never to emerge.
She spotted movement.
“What?”
Mike smiled. “Cute, aren’t they?”
In a corner, tucked in between a sideboard and the wall, was a large gray cat and four tiny kittens. The cat looked up at them then went back to washing her brood.
“Aww,” Alex said.
Mike put up a hand. “Wait.”
He approached the cats.
“Leave them. She’ll be scared with the kittens.”
He turned to her. “No. Watch this.”
He put his hand out and touched the top of the mother cat’s head. She looked up at him then vanished.
Alex gasped. “What?”
Make raised his hand again, his back still to her. The kittens hadn’t reacted to their mother’s disappearance.
“Five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven,” he muttered.
He stopped counting and the cat reappeared. She looked up at him then yowled. He withdrew his hand.
“Whoah!” cried Alex.
Mike stood up. “Yup. Quantum cat. Just like yours.”
“But… but there’s no box.”
“Quantum cats don’t need boxes to do their thing. Try watching Schrödinger next time he sneezes.”
Mike was right, Shrew did have a habit of stiffening every time he sneezed. He’d always sneeze again in quick succession and return to his normal self.
“Whoah,” she said. “I thought he was clever but he can’t disappear.”
“Not yet.”
“But why can this cat?”
“Why can yours?”
She shrugged. “No idea. He just started doing it around Thanksgiving last year. I never had the heart to take him into the lab and work it out properly.”
“Well, this place is odd. It’s not the only strange thing I’ve seen. The buildings move. They’re in a different place one day to the next. And the Bay…”
“What about it?”
“There’s some kind of light show on the other side. Apparitions, shapes. It’s like Disney’s fireworks show.”
“Where are they coming from?”
“No idea. You’re the physicist. Maybe you can make sense of it all. Come with me.”
Mike headed for the door.
“Wait,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“We have to find Lacey.”
“Who?”
“The girl. From Fisherman’s Wharf. She’s here somewhere. She’s on her own.”
Mike’s face darkened. “Yeah.” He glanced out of the broken window. “I’ve been avoiding going out there at night, but…” He turned to her. “Describe what happened.”
“It was this morning, at Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“Is this another Claire Pope?”
Alex shook her head. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Go on.”
“There was an anomaly, on the pier. It appeared right in front of me. She was behind me, on her phone. Then she spotted it and walked right into it.”
“Poor kid.”
“It swallowed her up. But I saw inside it. It looked just like this place. She’s here, somewhere.”
Mike blew out a long breath. He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes big enough for a weekly shop, and his skin was filthy. “OK.”
“We have to find her.”
“I know. Let’s start looking then.”
18
Peanut Butter
The streets were even more eerie at night.
“I don’t like this,” said Mike. “I’m used to having a gun, and backup.”
“How have you coped since you got here ?”
“I lay low. I kept to the shadows.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I found an abandoned warehouse with some containers. One of them was open. There were cans of stuff. Marshmallow goop.” He grimaced.
“You’d think this place would have been looted to death by now.”
“No idea. But you can have some marshmallow if you want.”
He delved in his pocket for a can and held it out. Alex grimaced; she’d never got used to the American obsession with the stuff.
“No thanks.”
“I don’t blame you. But you’ll be biting my hand off in a few hours.”
“We’ll be back home in a few hours.”
“Let’s hope so.”
They crept across a deserted street, keeping low. Alex hated crossing the intersections; it made her feel like an easy target.
At last they were at Fisherman’s Wharf.
“Where was she snatched?” asked Mike.
Alex looked at where the pier should be. In its place was a tumble of jagged rocks leading into the Bay.
“Where’s the Pier?”
“Maybe they don’t have a pier in this world. Maybe it sank into the water.”
“But that’s where she was. I was right there with her. There must be land there.”
“Looks like there is, but it isn’t friendly.”
They approached the shore, looking down at the rocks. They were covered in oil, glistening in the moonlight.
“What happened here?” asked Alex. “Why didn’t Madonna tell me?”
“She and the Prof don’t know everything.”
She turned to him. “Have you travelled to lots of other worlds? Other than Hive Earth, I mean?”
“Mainly Silicon City, a few others. I went to Hive LA once. You should have seen the traffic down there. Hover cars stacked ten high.”
“I went to Greater Castro, looking for you.”
“Ah. I like it there. Great beards.”
“Have you been here, the whole time?”
“I didn’t come straight here. There was this weird cat place, where they wanted me to figure out who killed their queen.”
“Huh?”
“Long story. I thought the Spinner would take me home after that, but it dumped me here.”
“Where is it now?”
“Not sure. Like I say, this place shifts at night.” He paused. “But you have one, right?”
“A Spinner? It’s gone.”
“Hell.”
“Yup.”
“Come on. Let’s focus on finding the girl.” She walked along the water’s edge, scanning the rocks for signs that someone had been here. Then she stood and turned back to the buildings behind them, her eyes roving over the windows.
“Let’s get out of the open,” she said.
They slunk toward a rundown shed that sat in the same spot as the cafe Rik had visited with her dad. She felt a brief pang of guilt at leaving Rik to look after Duncan. About not telling him the truth about her new job.
“Alex.”
“Shh. I can hear something.”
She stiffened. She’d heard the sound of something metallic, coming from across the street. She scanned the buildings.
Mike put
a hand on her arm. “In here.”
He’d bust the lock on the shed. They entered it, half expecting someone to jump at them from the shadows. But there was nothing here; just the sound of their own breathing.
Then, all of a sudden, the sound changed. Alex could hear her own breaths, sharp and insistent. But she couldn’t hear Mike’s.
She turned to see him slump to the floor next to her.
“What?”
She bent over and slapped his cheeks.
“Mike? Mike, quit messing around.”
His cheeks were cold. They felt limp, like Jell-O. She put her hand on his chest, then grabbed his wrist.
No pulse.
She turned wildly in the dark space, panicking. What was in here, that had killed him so suddenly?
She tried to slow her breathing but it was impossible. She slumped down next to him.
“Mike,” she whispered. “Stop it. Now.”
But it was no good. His skin was pale and even his beard looked lifeless.
She opened the door to the shed and burst out. Was it the air here? He wasn’t wearing a skin suit. He’d been here for days.
Had he been slowly poisoned, or suffocated?
She leaned on the shed, her heart racing. She couldn’t escape the fact that they’d heard something, before going into that shed. There was someone here, someone watching.
“Alex?”
She yelped.
“Get back in here. It’s not safe out there.”
Mike was standing in the doorway to the shed, leaning out. He looked angry. He looked very much alive. And he smelled of glue.
“No!” She grabbed the collar of his torn shirt and dragged him out. She pulled him away from the shed. He struggled against her but her determination was too great.
“Don’t go back in there,” she said.
He leaned over, panting. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s a quantum shed,” she replied.
19
Elastic Band
Lacey had no idea why he’d brought her back here. But she wasn’t asking any questions. The proximity of Fisherman’s Wharf, at least what passed for it here, gave her hope that next time her escape attempt might work.
He’d brought her to an abandoned building full of fishing tackle and desiccated worms in little plastic baggies. On a hook above the door was a bell which he’d reached up and silenced before coming in.
She guessed this had been a fishing shop. At home, this was probably a coffee shop, or a store selling rip-off souvenirs of Alcatraz.
Alcatraz. A shiver ran through her to think of it in this world. Could there be people over there still, trapped by whatever had shut everything down? It couldn’t have just been a quake.
If there were people over there, they’d be corpses by now.
She sniffed the air. If everyone here was killed by a quake ten years ago, where were their remains? There would be skeletons, surely.
Or maybe everyone fled.
There had to be someone else here. Pip’s family, for starters. Maybe she could find them, then he wouldn’t need her. Unless they had powers too, and could create even bigger rifts.
But first she’d have to escape this room. He’d tied her to a radiator and told her to stay quiet. When she’d refused, he’d asked if she wanted to be gagged. Or if she wanted any of the animals out there to hear.
She’d soon shut up.
What Pip didn’t know was how supple Lacey was. She’d been star pupil in her gymnastics club, until she reached high school and decided it was way too dumb. But she could still twist her body into shapes that would make an elastic band stand up and applaud.
As soon as he was gone, his hand silencing the bell as he slipped through the door of the shop, she sized up the rope.
She could twist her body and bring it in front of her, no problem.
She put a foot against the radiator and leaned over, bringing her head close to the floor. The floor was covered in a film of salt and grime; she could smell fish. She gagged.
Keep it together.
She pulled her feet through the loop made by her arms, keeping her eyes on the door.
She was through.
She stood up, breathing heavily. Now what?
She had more range of movement now and could get to the window next to the radiator. It looked out over the rocks where the pier should be, the rocks she’d stumbled onto when he grabbed her and pulled her through.
She ducked down quickly. He was out there, not more than ten feet away.
She took a few deep breaths then eased herself upwards. He was walking away from her, not looking back.
He was approaching a small shed. It looked worn down and was missing a window and a part of its roof.
He stopped walking as the shed door opened.
She froze. His family?
She dipped down so only her eyes were above the window frame. She held her breath.
Pip backed away from the shed, almost tripping over his own feet. He positioned himself behind a crumbling wall, not taking his eyes off the shed.
Not family then.
She looked back at the shed. The door flew open and a woman crashed out. She was small and ginger. She wore a bodysuit that didn’t do her any favors and her hair was curly and tangled. Her skin, however, was clean.
She wasn’t from around here.
Then Lacey remembered. The last face she’d seen as Fisherman’s Wharf had disappeared. It hadn’t been her mom, or her, dad. It had been this woman.
Pip had dragged her through too. Another victim.
She glanced across at Pip. He was staring back at her, his face pale in the moonlight.
She ducked down, knowing he’d seen her. But he couldn’t make it back here, not without that woman spotting them both.
She stood up. He gestured for her to duck. She ignored him.
She heard voices. She looked back at the shed to see a man coming out of it, rubbing his eyes. He looked ragged, with ripped, dirty clothes and a beard that would be more at home in a fruit bowl.
He was from here. So what was he doing with the woman?
He touched the woman’s shoulder and she jumped. She turned back to him, looking shocked.
She had her back to Pip. Lacey watched as he slipped out of his hiding place, creeping toward the pair outside the shed. He tucked himself behind an abandoned car. He was no distance from them now.
Should she call out? Would attracting their attention make things better or worse for her?
Or should she just run?
She searched the radiator and found a rough patch at the bottom. She knelt down and brought her wrists to it, rubbing at the rope. Luckily it was old and worn, and she was soon cutting through it.
She paused to lift herself up and look out of the window. The couple were backing away from the shed, looking at it. They seemed to be having an argument.
She bent back to her wrists and gave a heave. She felt her hands lift as the rope came loose.
She felt the breath leave her like she’d been squeezed around the middle. What now?
She had no way of getting home without Pip and his rifts. She couldn’t attack him, or he’d never help her. But maybe these new people had the same power?
She stood to one side of the window and peered round. Pip was moaning now, creeping out of his hiding place like a cat. He was no more than six feet from the couple, a gun outstretched in his hand.
She gasped. Where had he got that?
She screamed as shots rang out.
20
Rabbit
Alex turned at the sound. Mike pushed her to one side.
She felt the air stir beside her, then Mike yelled and fell to the ground.
She fell to the ground, her hands on his shirt.
“Mike! Mike, are you hit?”
“Stand up.”
She turned to see a boy watching them. He was thin, with wild blond hair and a mouth that had more gaps than teeth. His skin
was covered in smears of dirt and blood and he wore a superhero outfit that was torn and dirty.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Why did you shoot my partner?”
Mike groaned. She turned to him and bent her ear to his lips.
“The shed,” he muttered.
“What?”
“The shed. Dead. Alive.”
She looked back at the boy. He couldn’t be more than ten years old, but his eyes looked way older. He was staring at them, his mouth open. The gun dangled at his side. She eyed it.
“Drop it.” She tried to sound more confident that she felt.
To her amazement, he did. It clattered to the ground. He followed it, collapsing like he’d been hit himself.
There was a yell. Alex turned to see a girl running toward them.
“Lacey!”
The girl fell on them, keeping Alex between her and the man. “It’s you,” she breathed. “You were there when he took me.”
“I’m here to take you home,” Alex replied. “But first we have to help my partner.”
The girl looked down at Mike. “Is he dead?”
“I hope so.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll explain later. But first we have to get him back into that shed. Can you help me?”
The girl nodded. Together they dragged Mike’s body across the tarmac.
Alex kicked the shed door open. She peered inside, looking for a clue as to its strange qualities.
“We need to put him in here and close the door,” she said.
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
Alex didn’t really trust herself on this. She certainly didn’t trust this quantum outbuilding. But she had nothing to lose.
They pushed his feet through the door and slammed it shut. Alex leaned against it, counting in her head.
“What now?” asked the girl.
The boy was lifting himself up, grabbing his gun. In the confusion, she hadn’t grabbed it. She should have.
“Calm down, now,” she told him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Leave me alone,” he yelled. “Go! Leave Lacey with me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“She’s my friend.”
