Thankfully, Jadie 2.0 takes over, snapping quick, logical thoughts into my brain. Lateral movement doesn’t fight the gravity. Instead of trying to get up, I slither sideways. Something wet touches my hand, wrenching another scream from me. My fear excites the creature. Its snuffling speeds up, and it releases a cloud of hot, rancid breath. This time, I scream on purpose, trying to sound fierce and dangerous. When I spot a glimpse of gray fur, I ball up my fist and swing it sideways, thumping a hairy body.
The thing squeaks and slides away from me, vanishing kata or ana, where I can’t see it. As much as I want to squeal like a five-year-old—I’m pretty sure I punched a giant four-dimensional rat—I hold myself still and alert. I can’t spare the brainpower to fall apart because this thing hasn’t gone far. I smell it.
Squirming sideways and fighting gravity isn’t going to help—it’s too big and I can’t move fast enough—but aggression might. I need this thing to think I’m too strange, too loud, too scary. So I roar from my chest like a bear.
A blow from an unexpected direction cuts me off midhowl and rolls my body over. Now my face is pressed against the metal plate, a weight on my back in addition to the gravity pinning me down. Slimy drops of liquid slither down my face, pooling near my nose. Huge incisors loom in close, bringing a wave of rancid breath.
I scream, anticipating the bite, the crunch, the end.
Then a feathery touch sweeps across my shoulders, swiping the weight off my back as if it were nothing. The creature squawks in frustration.
A booming voice calls out, curling and echoing.
“Jaaaa-dieeeeee? Jaaaa-dieeee Maaaarrrr-tiiiiinnn?”
17. JADIE
Six huge, sepia-colored tubes appear in midair, swooping toward me.
I shriek and wiggle sideways to escape them.
A huge eye—all blue iris with no white around it and a horizontal slit for a pupil—looms above. “Jadie, it is Miss Rose. Be still.”
I almost cry in relief and let my body go limp. The six tubes elongate as they tighten around me. Six fingers? Pressure around my torso pries me off the metal plate. Unidentifiable shapes sail past. Then, trees and buildings and a familiar bike trail. My feet hit the ground. A huge magenta crystal appears in front of me right before the six huge fingers let go and tunnel backward, out of existence. The last I glimpse of the real Miss Rose is half a dozen pink talons on the ends of those fingers.
I’m standing on a lighted path near the edge of my housing development, a short walk from home. If there were people around, I would throw myself at them and hug them, no matter who they were, but there’s no one in sight. Instead I cross my arms and rock back and forth, marveling at the beauty of three-dimensional objects that make sense to my eyes and brain. Hello, walking path! Hello, clouds! Hello, abandoned golf ball!
“Jadie.”
I turn around and jump backward. Miss Rose is standing there.
Not the four-dimensional Miss Rose who rescued me and placed me back in 3-space. Her avatar.
The three-dimensional stand-in for Miss Rose resembles a smartly dressed talk show host. Her hair is silver blond, styled to perfection. Her skin is a golden sepia, and her eyes are blue—the same shade as the huge eye I saw in 4-space—but the avatar has humanlike, round pupils in an iris surrounded by white.
My gaze drops to Miss Rose’s hands, double-checking the number of fingers. Five, of course—one adorned by a large magenta ring.
“Are you hurt?” Miss Rose asks. The avatar’s mouth doesn’t move.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you for bringing me back.” I unfold my arms and drop them to my sides. I might be craving a comforting hug, but I’m not going to get it from this avatar. And in spite of Miss Rose rescuing me, I don’t want one from her.
The real Miss Rose is huge enough to pick me up with her six fingers.
“I am sorry this happened.” Miss Rose can’t change that fixed smile, but she does try to make her voice sound sympathetic. “I was not aware you were on the schedule for a course correction tonight.”
“I, um…”
“I do not know why your bracelet malfunctioned,” Miss Rose continues without waiting for my answer. “Its communication with the Transporter has somehow been severed. This was a terrible mistake. There are procedures to be followed, and the consequences of ignoring them are dangerous.” The tone of her voice shifts, from apologetic and concerned to something more harsh. “You were lucky I came across you when I did.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“No. The bracelet is not functioning, and no one knew you were not where you were supposed to be. It was only by chance that I spotted you. As you must realize, in 4-space you are very small and insubstantial. I hate to think what might have happened…”
I shudder. “That rat thing… what was it?”
“The meeker? A prolific pest in my world. Like cockroaches in yours. They are everywhere in 4-space. Now go home and rest. This must have been terrifying for you. Put your bracelet on my avatar, and I will take it to be repaired. A working one will be delivered to you, and the Seers will make sure this does not happen again.”
With trembling fingers, I open my bracelet and fasten it around the cold and unresponsive wrist of the avatar. Its fingernails, I notice, are painted baby pink, just like the talons on Miss Rose’s real hand. The color complements the magenta gemstone in her ring. Very fashionable for a four-dimensional lady.
Except, after glimpsing that enormous eye and those talons, I can’t think of her as a lady. More like a giant monster. Mumbling “Thank you,” I start to walk away.
“Oh, and Jadie,” Miss Rose says. I stop and look back. “I unreversed you when I brought you back. Try not to be so foolish in the future.”
“Sorry.” I push back the sleeve on my left arm, checking for my birthmark. When I look up again, Miss Rose’s avatar has vanished, taking my bracelet, her false smile, and that magenta-colored ring with her.
That ring. I shudder uncontrollably.
I am positive the huge crystal I saw when Miss Rose set me down on Earth was a sliver of that ring, or whatever that ring translates to in 4-space. But more importantly, it’s also the same crystal I saw hovering above me after I fell off the Transporter platform.
Or was pushed off.
Miss Rose was there all along, watching me struggle with gravity, listening to me call for help, letting that meeker—a furry cockroach with teeth?—come close to chewing my face off before intervening. Her apology—with those carefully emphasized phrases—wasn’t an apology at all. It was a warning.
Miss Rose wanted to make me see how very small and insubstantial I am. In her universe, I can be eaten by a cockroach.
The Seers know I’ve interfered with their plans for Sam Lowell, and Miss Rose just warned me to stay out of their business.
18. TY
Using a joystick connected to Sam’s computer, Ty steers a human figure down a road curved like a Möbius strip. Distorted buildings line the street. Walking in a straight line eventually brings the virtual pedestrian back to its starting point.
Marius peers over Ty’s shoulder. “You think this program is important?”
“Gotta be. I’ve been through the whole hard drive. There’s nothing else of interest on it. And this game… well, it’s only the landscape for a game, but the graphics are unusual.”
Ty switches his view to the coding behind the program. There’s something not right about these lines of code, something in the math that shouldn’t work. He traces his finger along one string of numbers, almost but not quite understanding what they mean.
Marius interrupts his train of thought. “What’s so special about it? The crazy buildings? I’ve seen them before. He didn’t invent them.”
“Of course not.” Ty rolls his stiff neck. “They’re based on Escher drawings. But what this kid has done… What’s his name again?”
“Sam Lowell,” Marius snaps. “It’s on those school assignments you looked through. Did you
not pay attention?”
Ty glances up. “What’s eating you?”
“What’s eating me?” Marius paces the length of the room. “Jadie’s got another family!”
“You’re jealous? Now, that’s dumb.” Ty returns his attention to the laptop screen. “She’s curious. Wouldn’t you be, if you found your birth family?”
“No.”
“That’s because you know they’re probably dead.”
“Harsh, dude.”
“But true.”
“If they’re dead, they didn’t abandon me on purpose. Her family left her by the side of the road. So why’d she track them down and tell them who she was?”
“You don’t know she did.”
“We saw her through the library doors,” Marius insists. “Rolling up her sleeve to show that boy her birthmark.”
Ty meant they don’t know she tracked her family down, versus stumbling upon them by accident. But, whatever. Jadie’s family loyalty is a sore subject for Marius.
Occasionally, Ty wonders what it would be like to have a sister of his own. Based on what he’s observed of Jadie, he assumes she’d spend her time butting into his business. Telling him not to drop Dad in the shark tank and wanting to keep ponies on his secret island hideout. Blah, blah, blah.
Pointing at the computer, Ty turns the conversation back to its starting point. “Anyway, Sam has used a software program to make two-dimensional drawings seem like they have four dimensions. What’s interesting is he’s altered the original code with some really complex mathematics. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Too hard for you? Never heard you say that before.”
“It’s new to me. Give me time.” The challenge of mastering something difficult excites him, and he flashes a grin at Marius. “Either Sammy is a genius, or he knows someone who is.”
“Great,” Marius groans. “Jadie’s other brother is a genius. So, you think the Seers want to stop him from inventing this game? Why? Because they have stock in Nintendo?”
“I don’t think it’s the game that’s important. It’s how he changed the program, especially the math he used.” Ty jumps up. “I need to borrow my dad’s camera.”
“The one that cost two thousand dollars?” Marius asks. “He lets you use it?”
“I didn’t say I was going to ask.”
When Ty returns to his room with his dad’s new camera, Marius is staring at his phone in puzzlement. “Got a text from Jadie.” He holds up the phone for Ty to see.
What r u doing with ty 2nite? DON’T go out to 4space!
See, this is the problem with sisters. Always sticking their noses in.
“Do you think she found out we stole Sam’s computer?” Marius frowns. “She’s got a lot of nerve telling me not to do what she’s been doing all week.” He starts typing. “I’m gonna say we’re playing video games.” He gets a reply within seconds. “She says good, and she’ll explain later.”
“She doesn’t know about the computer. She’s being bossy, like usual.” Ty sits down at his desk. “First thing I’m going to do is copy this program onto my computer. Sam’s is crappy and slow.”
“And you’re doing this why?”
“Because the Seers don’t want Sam to have the program. And that makes me want it.”
“You don’t know that.” Marius crosses his arms and leans against a wall. “Maybe they want to smash his computer so he’ll fail a big school project or lose a college application essay.”
Ty pauses, hands hovering over the keyboard. Marius could be right. He hates it when Marius is right. Then he shakes his head. “No. It’s too big a coincidence. This math deals with dimensions.”
After queuing up the files to copy, Ty turns his attention to the camera settings.
“What’s the camera for?” Marius asks.
“I want to try the program with a different set of graphics.” The continuous drive should take the rapid-fire shots he needs for his purpose. He readies the camera and eyes up his bedroom, dividing it into manageable sections.
Marius watches him for a few seconds, then says, “Do you think Jadie’s original parents didn’t abandon her? I saw a show about the Lindbergh baby once. Charles Lindbergh’s baby was kidnapped, and the kidnapper killed the little boy or maybe dropped him accidentally. Do you think somebody who wasn’t her parents left Jadie in danger?”
“Ding, ding, ding! Give the boy his prize.” Ty pans the first section of his room with the camera, holding down the shutter-release button.
“You already thought of that?”
“Right after she started going to Philadelphia, yeah.”
“Then the Seers made a mistake.”
Ty glances at Marius. “Welllll…”
“Like you said, they don’t know everything, even if Miss Rose says they do. They don’t know we’ve been using the Transporter.”
That’s true. If the Seers had any idea that Ty and Marius—and now Jadie—were hijacking their equipment, Miss Rose would’ve confronted them by now. But when it comes to Jadie and her birth family, Ty suspects the Seers know exactly what they’re doing. He only wishes he could figure out what that is—and whether their plans have any value to him.
“I don’t understand why you’re taking pictures of your room,” Marius complains.
“I’m gonna load them onto the computer and use Sam’s program on them. Which will, hopefully, create a virtual reality version of my bedroom.”
“How long will that take?”
“Couple of hours. Most of that will be the files copying.”
“Ugh.” Marius flings himself down on Ty’s bed and opens a game on his phone.
It takes almost three hours. Uploading the photos proves more laborious than Ty counted on. While he types in the repetitive commands, he ponders the strange mathematics in the software code. Surely, it wasn’t invented for this application. What was its original purpose, why are the Seers trying to suppress it, and how does a teen from Philadelphia have access to it?
Marius has long since dropped off to sleep when Ty admits to himself that he’s done all he can with what he’s got. His initial excitement has dwindled to a frustration that niggles like an itch in the middle of his back. Maddening. Unreachable.
He shakes Marius’s shoulder. “Wake up, Drool Boy.”
“Uhhh…” Marius wipes his face and sits up. “Do you have it working?”
“See for yourself,” Ty says sourly.
Yawning, Marius uses the touch pad to explore the graphics. “So? It’s your room in virtual reality. Even more boring than Sam’s Escher world.”
He’s right. Ty’s photo sets supplied the geography, and Sam’s program compiled the information. But Ty didn’t get what he wanted. “Nothing I photographed takes advantage of the advanced mathematics written into the program. I don’t know how to acquire images from four-dimensional perspectives.”
“What?” Marius squints at Ty. “Man, it’s”—he checks his phone—“two in the morning. Can you keep it simple?”
“He means he cannot take photographs from ana and kata.”
The voice is deep and booming and comes out of nowhere. Ty and Marius look at each other, then whirl around, seeking the speaker. Two curved silver horns erupt into existence in midair. They close around Dad’s camera, slide backward, and disappear, taking the camera with them.
At that moment, Ty understands exactly how Sam Lowell felt when they stole his computer.
19. TY
High-pitched laughter fills the room. The camera swoops into view over Ty’s head, pinched between those horns.
No—they’re giant claws.
“Give that back!” Ty grabs for the camera, but it disappears before he can reach it and reappears in another corner of the room.
When he prepares to dive for it again, Marius catches him by the shoulders. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
Ty’s hands shake in rage, but there’s no use playing Monkey in the Middle with bullies f
rom the fourth dimension. Swallowing fear of the punishment he’ll face if this camera is damaged, he crosses his arms. “Enough games. Why don’t you show yourselves?”
“No games,” says the deep voice. “I am taking the photographs you could not.” The camera clatters onto the desk next to Ty’s computer. “Upload those.” The voice thins out into something more human-sounding, and a man materializes in the room. Ty snatches up the camera, shoots the newcomer his nastiest glare, and starts plugging in cables.
Based on its utter stillness, the invading presence is an avatar. But while Miss Rose’s avatar resembles a businesswoman, this one looks like a hippie. He wears a bandanna, an untucked plaid shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and sandals. His legs are hairy.
Marius scowls. “You don’t look the way I expected a Seer to look.”
That annoying twitter echoes around the room, emanating from somewhere outside three-dimensional space, while the deeper voice speaks through the avatar. “I am not one of your Seers.”
“We are the opposite of Seers,” the high-pitched voice adds.
“Opposed to the Seers is more accurate,” the avatar says.
Marius sidles over next to Ty. “Do you believe them?”
Ty stares at the computer screen. “Maybe. Because they just made this program work.” Using the pointer on the screen, he explores the virtual bedroom. It’s now possible to simultaneously view the top of Ty’s desk and the contents of his desk drawer. They can see the outside and the inside of the closet at the same time. There’s a virtual version of Marius and Ty, and when viewed from a certain angle, their organs and guts are visible.
Marius recoils. “Ugh!”
Ty quickly moves the pointer away, feeling nauseous.
“Yes, Tyler Rivers and Marius Martin,” says the giggly voice. “On your kata and ana sides, you are quite transparent!”
“How do you know our names?” Ty demands, his voice shaking more than he likes. “And who are you, if you’re not Seers?”
Jadie in Five Dimensions Page 8
