Quantum Entanglement

by Liesel K. Hill

  “We would go get them, you understand, but we don’t have a Traveler to take us there.”

  Salla recoiled, looking like a trapped animal, though Doc couldn’t understand why. “Did your sister ever tell you how many years she could traverse in a single leap?”

  Salla relaxed. “About fifty.”

  “That makes sense,” Joan said, sounding relieved. “Maggie was farther in the past than that, so Kristee would’ve had to make several jumps and rest in between.”

  Salla frowned, and Doc watched her closely. “What is it?” he asked.

  She still looked wary. “She didn’t need rest in between. She could only go so far at one time, but she could make another jump of equal years immediately after.”

  Silence pervaded the room again and Salla’s expression went from guarded curiosity to fear. “What’s happening? Where’s my sister?”

  “We’ve located her about three months in our past,” Doc said. “She’s brought a group of people forward with her, but her signature is weak. If she doesn’t need rest between jumps, she may be sick or injured.”

  Salla studied the ground furiously, while Doc studied her, trying to read her expression. She seemed to be turning the information over in her head. Finally, she stared him dead in the eye.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “Please do.”

  “I’m a Traveler too.”

  Nat and Joan walked up to stand behind Doc.

  “You are?” Joan sounded skeptical.

  Salla nodded. “Kristee wanted to come here for protection. She didn’t think we could survive on our own anymore. We’re both Travelers, and we know it’s a rare ability. We’ve had...bad experiences with other groups before coming to Interchron who’ve wanted to use us for their own purposes. Kristee didn’t know if we could trust you not to do the same. She said to only tell you about her abilities. We’ve been hiding mine.”

  Doc was impressed with these sisters. “Such abilities are difficult to conceal. Either your talent for Traveling is much smaller than Kristee’s, or it hasn’t matured yet. Uh, no offence.”

  Salla shook her head. “None taken. Kristee said both. My abilities haven’t matured yet. They’re also small. Kristee can jump fifty years at a time. I’ve never managed more than two. She’ll be mad at me for telling you, but if she’s weak, something’s wrong. Kristee’s taken care of me my whole life. My turn to save her. How far in the past did you say she was?”

  “Three months,” Carson said.

  “Good. I can do that. I’ll take you to them.”

  Chapter 22: Painful Memories

  MARCUS AND KARL STOOD shoulder to shoulder, facing Tenessa, arms crossed over their chests. “You said Colin’s shield had a weakness,” Marcus said, resisting the urge to tap his toe. “What is it? Can you explain in a sentence or two?”

  Her gaze shifted between the two of them several times. “It’s us.”

  “You?” Marcus and Karl asked at the same time, glancing at one another.

  “How can you be a weakness for Colin’s ability?” Marcus asked.

  “We can put up a shield that blocks sound. If no sound waves radiate outward, there’s nothing to bounce off the Instigator’s sonic shield, so he won’t know anything is close.”

  Silence blanketed them while that sank in. Marcus tried to wrap his head around the implications. Was this why she was so valuable to Colin? What were they training her for, and how did Colin fit into it? He’d promised to get her back to the Collective if that’s what she truly wanted, but if more collectivists made use of sonic shields like Colin’s, her ability might be too valuable to get rid of.

  “So you have the ability to walk right up to Colin without him realizing you’re there?”

  Studying the ground, she gave a single bob of her head. “Assuming someone else is Concealing us. We have no talent for Concealments.”

  “I can take care of that part,” Marcus said. “But why didn’t it work that way before? We had you captive, but Colin still heard us and took us by surprise.”

  “It’s a conscious ability,” Tenessa said. “I didn’t extend the shield around the two of you because I wanted him to hear you and come back.”

  Beside him, Karl ground his teeth.

  “You will, now,” Marcus said quickly. “So we can get close to him?”

  “Yes,” Tenessa gazed up at them, now. “But not to kill him.”

  “Agreed,” Marcus said, not sure how she thought she would stop them.

  They got to their feet and Tenessa followed. “We must be able to use our neurochemical abilities in order to create the shield. The dose of neurological sedative Strange Eyes last gave us has almost worn off. If he wants us to help him with the shield, he can’t give us another one.”

  There it was. Not only had she wanted Colin to come back for her, but because they’d dosed her with a neurological sedative, she couldn’t have extended the shield if she’d wanted to. Marcus ran his hand through his hair. He and Karl turned their backs to her to confer.

  “I’m not comfortable with that,” Marcus whispered.

  “No argument here,” Karl’s voice was soft, though he wasn’t truly capable of whispering. “I’m starting to like the woman, but I don’t trust her. She’d throw us to the wolves if given half a chance.”

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair again, searching for a solution. He couldn’t come up with one.

  “What do you want to do, Marcus?”

  “I don’t know. If it’s the only way to get close to Colin, I don’t see that we have a choice.”

  “If she betrays us the first chance she gets, we won’t get to Colin anyway.”

  Marcus nodded. Karl wasn’t wrong.

  A sudden, fierce pain lanced into Marcus’s right shoulder. He dropped to one knee with a cry. Karl whirled toward him in alarm while Tenessa frowned down at him like he’d gone mad.

  “Marcus, what is it?” Karl asked, kneeling beside him.

  “My...shoulder,” Marcus gasped, reaching toward it.

  His right shoulder slammed into a pointed rock, protruding from the ground, and the pain that lanced through him, on top of the pain in his head, was unspeakable. He rolled over and vomited.

  Marcus shook his head, trying to dispel the image. More memories, trying to break through. He didn’t have time for them right now.

  Karl stood up behind Marcus and pulled the neck of his shirt outward to examine the injury. “There’s nothing there, Marcus. Except...”

  He moved around behind Marcus for several seconds, and Marcus couldn’t tell what he was doing, other than using his neurochemical abilities, anyway. Probably Scanning. Karl knelt beside Marcus again. He held one hand out several inches from Marcus’s body, moving it over Marcus’s shoulder, his neck, his chest.

  “What is it?” Marcus gasped, when Karl dropped his hand. The pain still pulsated painfully.

  “There’s no energy I can see, but you’re giving off heat. It’s only coming from your back. Your cells are releasing thermal energy. I just can’t figure out why. I’m sorry. Even if I had your Healing abilities, there’s nothing to Heal!”

  The pain intensified. Marcus groaned, doubling over. Black spots speckled his vision, which tunneled out and back in several times. Then, it tunneled out completely.

  Marcus waited until his father had been gone for hours before approaching David. In the weeks since meeting the four collectivists on the river bank, David had withdrawn into himself. He rarely talked. When he glanced at Marcus or their father, his expression oozed resentment. He hadn’t laughed or been himself since that day.

  Marcus couldn’t stand it anymore. The night before, he’d made a decision. His father would be angry. And scared. But Marcus was willing to take risks, as David called it, in order to keep his brother safe. He’d have to explain it to his father and hope he understood.

  “David?”

  David didn’t respond from atop the dirt-red boulder he sat on. He glanced over
as Marcus drew near.

  When he stood in front of his brother, looking up into David’s face, Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay. I agree.”

  “With what?”

  “We can link our minds.”

  David’s mouth fell open and his face took on a look of wonder. “Really?”

  Marcus held up a hand as David pushed his legs around behind him and got onto his knees, preparing to slide down the face of the boulder. “There are conditions. I want your most excellent promise.”

  David stopped and leaned out over the side of the boulder eagerly. “Of what?”

  Marcus took a deep breath. “No more talk of collective living. No more going out of your way to interact with collectivists. They’re dangerous. If this will keep you happy, and with us, I’ll do it, but I want no more talk of anything else. Understand?”

  David’s head bobbed up and down so quickly, it was a wonder he didn’t kink his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He jumped off the boulder.

  “And David?”

  David turned to him.

  “No one else. Just me and you. I’m still not comfortable with this, but I’ll do it so you won’t be lonely anymore. That doesn’t mean you can bring Joe-Individual or some girl you meet and crush on into the network of our minds. Understand?”

  David nodded. “Yes. Agreed.”

  Marcus hesitated, wondering why David accepted everything without asking any questions. Marcus had gone over numerous scenarios in his head, such as if in a few years one of them met someone special. He was prepared to explain to David that such a situation would probably change the link. They’d deal with such situations as they arose. David, though, didn’t seem worried about the future. Marcus sighed. He supposed it showed how eager David was to create the link.

  “Okay. I have some idea how to do this, but—”

  “I know how to do it,” David said quickly.

  Marcus stared at his brother for long seconds. Why did that not surprise him? “Okay. So how do we begin?”

  David glanced around meadow his boulder overlooked. “Let’s sit down. Facing each other.”

  They both sat and crossed their legs.

  “I’m going to put my hands on the sides of your face,” David said. “Relax. I have to drill a tunnel into your brain.”

  Marcus leaned back from his brother’s out-stretched hands. “It won’t be an actual hole will it?”

  David shook his head. “No. Not in your physical brain. It’s more like a hole in the energy of your brain. The tunnel is...almost in another dimension.”

  Marcus leaned farther back, looking at his brother with awe. The knowledge and confidence David displayed both inspired and terrified Marcus. “David, how do you know that? How did you learn all this?”

  David dropped his hands and shrugged, looking sheepish. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, not just these past weeks. Laina knew some. The more I learn about it, the more sense it makes. Those collectivists we met by the river weren’t the first I’d talked to. You just didn’t find out about the others.”

  Marcus rubbed his face slowly with his hands, trying to keep calm about David’s nonchalance. “But,” he glared at David, “there will be no more of that now, right?”

  David nodded vigorously and cracked a crooked smile. “Of course.”

  It was the first spark Marcus had seen of his brother in weeks. He smiled back and leaned forward. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  David placed his hands on the sides of Marcus’s face. Marcus expected some pain, from what he’d heard of others who’d been drilled, but because he’d chosen it—allowed himself to be drilled—he thought the pain would be mild.

  He was wrong.

  His ears rang and his vision blurred. It felt like being stabbed between the ears with a white hot poker. He tried to pull away from David’s hands. Something held him fast, connecting them with iron bonds. Marcus clawed at his ears and screamed.

  Darkness flooded his vision.

  Flashes of light showed David leaning over him during bouts of consciousness.

  “Marcus...hear me?” The sun hovered behind David, making his hair appear auburn. “Finished the drill...need you conscious for...before Dad gets back...” Darkness again.

  When Marcus came around again, his ears rang so violently, he wondered if an iron anvil sat in his head in place of his brain. It felt like someone now clanged on it with a hammer. With each metallic stroke, pain lanced down his spine, reverberating out to his fingertips.

  “David?” His voice sounded dry, nasal, tortured.

  He heard something out in front of him, and managed to raise his head as David came into view. Based on the angle of the sun it had been at least an hour since they’d begun. Marcus vaguely wondered when Father would return. If he came back too soon, Marcus doubted he would let them complete the linking.

  “Oh good! You’re awake!”

  Marcus winced as the sound of David’s voice echoed clamorously off his eardrums, sending more shooting pains through his body.

  “I’ve brought someone to help.”

  Marcus raised his head again, expecting to see his father. His vision hadn’t cleared but the figure was too slight and short to be his father. Marcus blinked.

  The collectivist woman he and David had spoken to by the river weeks earlier glided gracefully into the meadow.

  “No,” Marcus whispered, his voice hoarse. He tried to push himself upright, but the drilling had rendered his muscles jelly-like.

  She stood over him before falling into an agile squat and putting her hands on his face. They felt cool against his flushed skin. “Don’t worry, Marcus,” her voice had a soft, musical quality. “Don’t fight it. This really is for the best.”

  Marcus tried to pull away, but where was he to go, lying on the ground and too weak to move? He could see David over the woman’s shoulder, standing with arms folded over his chest, face expressionless.

  “David,” Marcus gasped. “Please...don’t let her—”

  Then she got into his head. An alien presence lurked in the canal David had made. David obviously knew how to drill, but not how to do the actual linking. Now the woman burrowed, twisting, trying to root something out. Marcus opened his mouth to scream. The pain became so intense, pounding in his ears, he wasn’t sure if he actually did.

  Marcus became aware of a presence, both familiar and authoritative. The pain abruptly ceased. His bleary vision solidified in time to see the woman’s head snap up to look at something behind Marcus. Through the muffler of pain and fatigue, he registered his father’s voice, deep and menacing.

  “Get away from my son.”

  The woman flew backward through the air, landing thirty feet away. Marcus immediately moved, fighting the pounding in his head and the bleariness of his vision, trying to get to his feet. There were four collectivists by the riverbank. He didn’t see or sense anyone else, but that meant little. His father might need help.

  The woman rolled stiffly onto her side and lurched to her feet. Marcus felt her gather energy and fling it at his father. Danic put up a shield, though, and the energy bounced off it and hit a nearby tree. The trunk exploded like a fire cracker, flinging wooden shrapnel far enough to hit Marcus in the shoulder.

  Marcus’s father threw energy back at the woman. She deflected it, and a patch of sod twenty feet behind her fountained upward like a geyser.

  The battle went on for several minutes. They put up shields, parried around them, pock-marked the meadow, and pulverized trees along its perimeter.

  After a full two minutes of explosions and raining debris, Marcus wrestled himself into a sitting position. He reached for his neurochemical abilities, but was too groggy. When he tried, the tunnel in his mind burned like acid.

  Holding his head, he cast his eyes—slowly—around for some way to help. He caught movement across the meadow and realized David had taken cover behind a massive aspen tree. When Marcus twisted at the waist, something cold and
firm dug into his side. He always kept a dagger in his belt. He’d forgotten it until now. He nearly pulled it out before decided against it.

  The collectivist woman was concentrating on killing his father. How good she was at splitting her focus? How much did she register in her peripheral vision?

  Leaving the dagger where it was—hidden at his waist, covered by his shirt—he lunged to his feet and staggered toward the collectivist woman. With how badly his head throbbed, the stagger was partly real. He made an effort to deepen it so she would deem him less of a threat.

  Moving in a semi-circle, he positioned himself to come up behind her. As he got into position, with the woman twelve feet ahead of him, his father cried out and went down in the dirt. From behind, Marcus could see the smug swagger of the woman’s body as she walked toward his father’s motionless form. Praying his father wasn’t dead, Marcus quickened his shuffle.

  The woman lifted her hand to shoulder level and swirled it around in the air, flicking her wrist in a lazy circle. Whatever she was doing, Marcus couldn’t see it, which meant he didn’t have the ability she employed. But he could feel it. She gathered energy for some kind of assault. The air crackled with it. If his father wasn’t dead yet, that barrage would surely finish him.

  Marcus gave up the fake stagger and pushed through the pain in his head. He ran forward, unsheathing his dagger. Pushing through the hum of electricity in the air, Marcus grabbed the woman’s shoulder and slammed the knife between two of her ribs from behind. Despite the force of his drive, it went in slowly from tip to hilt with a faint sucking noise.

  Though he stabbed low, he aimed the dagger upward. Being nearly eight inches long, it would have lanced several vital organs.

  The electricity in the air disintegrated immediately. The woman gasped. She slammed her elbow backward into Marcus’s chest. The weakness in his limbs worked against him and he fell backward. His right shoulder slammed into a pointed rock, protruding from the ground, and the pain that lanced through him, on top of the pain in his head, was unspeakable. He rolled over and vomited.

  When he struggled onto his hands and knees, the woman was staggering in a tight circle, grabbing ineptly for the dagger protruding from her ribs, unable to reach it. She fell to her knees, hacking and spitting and gasping. Bloody spittle decorated her lips and chin.