Dimensions

by Krystyne Price

  At least I know the truth now, she thought as the blue-white liquid engulfed her. At least I know who I am.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  John, Steve and Johnny looked up expectantly. The moment was now. They had each allowed themselves to be overpowered and tied to chairs just as Vincent was. Johnny glanced over at his unconscious brother before looking back toward the bedroom door. Vasan was gloating, grinning evilly as he babbled away in some mixture of Chinese and Bahasa Melayu, walking back and forth between the bedroom and the living room, barely sparing a glance at his captives.

  John nodded once to his sons. It was the signal. There was an audible click from Steve’s direction, which he covered by pretending to clear his throat. There was a second click from Johnny, who coughed quickly to cover it up. And a third click from John, who pretended to sneeze. Vasan didn’t even look at them.

  Behind the chairs, their bound hands came right off the ends of their arms, sliding and clattering to the floor. That sound got Vasan’s attention and he made a move toward them. “What was that?” he growled, looking down at the floor behind their chairs. “What is this?”

  John, Steve and Johnny rose to their feet, swinging their arms…including their hands…out in front of them. “Robotics,” John said smugly. “Helluva thing.”

  “What?” Vasan cried, lunging for him.

  That was when the glow and sizzling noise came from the bedroom. Vasan whirled, his back to the Tanners. All three men jumped him, taking him to the floor as Ibrahim and Jane hurried into the living room.

  “Now, Ibrahim!” John cried out just before Vasan landed a punch to his jaw. Steve dug his knee into Vasan’s abdomen while Johnny wrestled with his hands.

  Ibrahim moved to stand just far enough away that he wouldn’t be caught by the flailing arms and legs and raised his hands into the air. He closed his eyes and his low voice began to speak quietly, cadences rising and falling as though set to unheard music.

  “Vasan!” Jane roared above the din. “Come to me!”

  The men stopped in mid-movement as Vasan looked up from the floor, blood trickling from his lip and nose. “What do you want, niece?” he ground out, trying to shake the Tanners from his hands and legs.

  Her eyes were cold and hard. Her face, unreadable. “You, Vasan. Don’t you remember? You promised me something.”

  “I promised you nothing!” he spat.

  “Let him up,” she said to the Tanners, her eyes never leaving Vasan’s face. They complied and stood back as Vasan leapt to his feet.

  “What is this?” he hissed, advancing on her. “What trickery are you using?”

  “This is no trick, Vasan,” Jane said evenly, watching her father out the corner of her eye. “I’ve decided I want to join you.”

  “Jane, no!” John cried out.

  “Shut up!” Vasan snarled, then turned to face Jane full-on. “So, little girl, you want to be mine at last.”

  “I want what’s best for me.”

  “Then you see the light. Your future lies with me.”

  There was a flash of blue and Vasan’s head whipped toward Ibrahim, startled. Jane cried out, joined by the three conscious Tanner men. All four rushed him. He braced himself, not understanding what was happening until he saw the large portal appear before them. Ibrahim sidestepped just as the four tackled Vasan, shoving him forward. He cried out, yelling and screaming in Bahasa Melayu, Chinese and English as he tumbled headlong into the portal.

  At the last minute he turned and swung his arm wide, catching Jane in the side of the head. She fell partially into the portal. Ibrahim scrambled over the Tanners, who’d fallen to the floor during the tackle. He grabbed Jane’s ankles, pulling her back through to their side. He then stood in front of the portal; hands raised in the air, and began to yell words into it. Jane moaned as Steve helped her sit up. She focused on her father and prayed he would close the portal quickly before Vasan had time to come back through.

  They all held their breath. The edges began caving in as Ibrahim’s voice rose in pitch and octave, repeating the same unintelligible words over and over again. Now the portal was down to half its original size. Jane looked on hopefully. It was almost over. Vasan was almost banished for good. Then her eyes widened in disbelief.

  A hand came through the portal, snatched the front of Ibrahim’s robe and before anyone could react, started pulling him through the portal. “Father!” Jane screamed, reaching out.

  The hand pushed Ibrahim aside and Vasan’s head and shoulders came through. “Even better!” he crowed. He took Jane’s outstretched hand with both of his and in an instant yanked her through. That was it. Jane was gone.

  “No!” Ibrahim cried, running to where the portal had been. He turned to John, Steve and Johnny, desperation in his eyes. “I cannot bring it back!”

  Tears had filled John’s eyes, his hands trembling as Steve and Johnny came to stand on either side of him. “Why can’t you open it again?”

  Tears rolled down Ibrahim’s face as he turned back to where his daughter had stood only moments before. “It was a random opening,” he breathed, chest heaving, “I have no way of knowing where it led.” He dropped to the floor, hand moving to brace himself but instead landing palm open on an object. He wiped the tears away and picked up the object. It was a ruby held by a gold setting and hanging from a gold chain. He knew it well, for it had belonged to Jane’s mother.

  “Vincent!” Johnny said, suddenly remembering their brother. “Father, quickly, we have to get him home!”

  John quickly wiped the wetness from his face as he and Steve joined Johnny at Vincent’s side. “Yes. Quickly, open the portal.”

  Steve held out his arm and pressed a button on his watch. Their portal appeared in the middle of the room as John and Johnny worked to untie Vincent from the chair. Steve lifted him into a fireman’s carry and walked quickly into the liquid door. Johnny followed on his heel while John lingered.

  Ibrahim rose to his feet and walked toward him. “I cannot have found her only to lose her again.”

  “We’ll find your daughter.” He enveloped his friend in his arms. “I promise you we’ll find her.”

  Ibrahim nodded into him before backing away and taking John’s hand. He looked back to where he’d last seen his long-lost daughter. “Fight, Jane,” he whispered. “Fight and live.”

  The two of them turned hand-in-hand and walked through the portal. Ibrahim knew they would find her; after all, they’d found her once. He could only hope she would survive his cousin until they did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It seemed like an eternity had passed; an eternity in which there was no time or space. There was only sightless, weightless existence, and the only real reason she knew she wasn’t dead was that a warm hand enveloped hers. The funny thing was, she’d forgotten who the hand belonged to, but felt comforted by its reassurance that she was still alive.

  Churning and turning, floating yet falling, but never quite certain if you were actually moving or not. Mindful of the fact that you should be hearing something, even your own breathing, but could not. Or of the fact that a human’s eyes could adjust to even the darkest of nights or rooms and eventually be able to make something out, however small a detail. But only the hand remained.

  Left alone to wonder who and what you were, believing you should know but finding the knowledge simply not there, as though it had never existed. Wondering if you had a face or a soul, or even eyes or a mouth, because you couldn’t move to answer those questions for yourself. Guessing as to whether you had feet or hands, even though you knew you must because the hand holding yours remained.

  It was thus perplexed but somehow not concerned that she found herself when suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, a sudden cacophony of sound; all silence, darkness and thought were interrupted.

  Jane threw an arm over her eyes, wincing at the pain and squinting to try and make sense of things. Without devoting a single neuron to the task, she instantly
knew who she was and who was holding her hand. A turn to look at the individual took several moments in which she had a chance to realize the warm hand was much smaller than it should’ve been before she could get her eyes pried open.

  At last she began to see her surroundings and looked around in wonder. Towering high overhead were trees she couldn’t fathom the names of, nor types. There were plants the size of bushes and shrubs with leaves larger than anything she’d ever seen before; large enough to cover a grown man. Underfoot was a tangle of live and dead vines, leaves, bark of trees and other things she didn’t have time to catalogue.

  For as quickly as she had noticed that she was standing in the middle of a rainforest, just as unexpectedly fast she was being pulled along by the hand that held hers; pulled along by a child. “Wait!” she exclaimed, but ran along behind him. She felt the urgency and could almost have said fear that seemed to exude from him as he dodged fallen vines, trees and other flora. Jane had a tough time keeping up due only to the fact that she was taller than he, but she managed to stay on her feet.

  “Kembali ke sini, Tao!” a voice boomed from behind them. Jane wanted to find out who it was, not understanding the words, but the child kept pulling her along, moving even faster now.

  So many minutes passed that her chest began to heave from the exertion. Eventually she managed to dig her heels in and bring the seemingly aimless sprint to an end. The child kept yanking at her hand, turning his face toward her and shaking his head, dark chocolate eyes imploring her to continue.

  “No,” she shook her head, seating herself on a moss-covered fallen log. “I’m tired, I must rest.”

  The boy’s shoulders slumped and as he stood there looking around, he finally let go of her hand and Jane got a good look at him. He was probably all of ten years old with a bronzed olive tint to his skin and eyes that were almond-shaped, yet not as narrow as one might expect of a full-blooded Chinese; nor as upturned. She guessed he had mixed heritage of some sort. The dark eyes darted to her face and she met them, cocking her head as a feeling of familiarity swept over her. Wavy jet black hair framed his face and fell to his shoulders, giving him a wanton and decidedly dashing look for one so young.

  “Aman,” he said softly, coming to sit next to her. He looked up and their eyes connected again. “Aku selamat dengan anda.”

  Shaking her head, Jane felt that she should somehow know what he was saying; the cadence of the syllables seemed to be familiar, yet for the life of her she could not decipher his meaning.

  “Aman,” he repeated, grabbing her hand. “Ayo.”

  She wondered if the boy thought her name was Aman, as he’d said that twice already. It niggled at the back of her mind as they trudged along the barely discernable path until they reached the edge of a clearing.

  “Tao!” a woman called from a small thatched hut on the far side. “Tao!”

  “Ibu!” the boy cried out in happiness, and he let go of Jane’s hand to run over to where the woman stood just outside the hut. He said something to her and she looked up to find Jane standing on the edge of the clearing, unsure of what she should do. She smiled when the older woman, seemingly the boy’s mother, beckoned her, encouraging her to come forward with a waving hand.

  Tao. That was a word she’d heard as they were running and now once again, from the mother. It must be the boy’s name. Yes, Tao was his name. He grabbed her hand again when she’d gotten close enough. “Indah,” he breathed, a shy smile upon his face as he looked between his mother and Jane.

  “Tao?” she asked him, and his smile broadened into a grin as he vigorously nodded until she thought his head might fall from his neck.

  “Ya, ya!” he affirmed, pointing to his own chest. “Tao!”

  At last, Jane thought she was getting somewhere. She pointed to her own chest, eyes never leaving his, and said, “Jane.”

  “Jane,” he repeated, then looked up at his mother. “Ibu,” he explained, pointing to her.

  “Ibu,” she said, nodding to the woman who laughed, causing Jane to wonder what she’d said that was so funny. But his mother just waved her hand in the air again like it made no difference and disappeared into the hut. Tao pulled Jane in after her.

  The interior was roomy, if simply adorned. The large room they stepped into appeared to serve as living area, kitchen and dining area combined. To one side was a mud brick fireplace within which a warm fire crackled with two pots hung over it. On the floor was a low table made of hewn logs that appeared to have been fused together with a tar-like substance. The top of it was finished smoothly, and four gaur-seladang pillows were placed squarely at each of its four equal sides.

  Smells she was unfamiliar with but which made her stomach rumble filled her nostrils with each breath she took. A door opposite the entrance opened and a young man who appeared to be only one or two years older than Tao entered, softly closing the door behind him. He whispered, “Ibu,” as Tao’s mother embraced him and placed a kiss atop his head. Ibu must mean mother, she surmised. She noted he and Tao were of similar appearance, yet markedly different; enough so that she questioned whether they were related at all.

  Released by his mother, the boy looked up, eyes lighting first on Tao and then moving upwards to Jane’s face. He’d been about to move in their direction, but stopped cold in his tracks, eyes widening. “Tidak boleh!” he breathed, staring at her.

  Glancing over to where Ibu continued stirring her pots above the fire, Jane noted the woman also had jet black hair, though hers was long and straight. Her skin was more the tanned look of this new child’s who now stared at her so openly.

  Tao squeezed her hand. “Saudaraku, ini adalah temanku Jane,” he said to his brother.

  That must have been an introduction. Jane held her hand out in friendship. The older boy seemed to recover himself and moved forward, taking her hand in his. “Selamat siang,” he said softly, bowing his head to her. He then looked at Tao. “Dimana dia berasal?”

  Tao shrugged. “Aku tidak peduli. Aku mencintainya.”

  Ibu laughed, a sound that reminded Jane of the merriment of church bells on someone’s wedding day. But the other boy did not laugh. Jane frowned as she spoke. “I am Jane,” she said, placing her palm flat on her chest. Then she pointed at him. “Who are you?”

  “Hakim,” he replied, bowing his head to her once again.

  “Hakim,” she repeated, thinking how odd it was that the boy holding her hand would have what sounded like a Chinese name in Tao, and yet this other boy, both of whom called the same woman Ibu, sounded like he had an Arabic name. Perhaps Ibu didn’t mean mother after all?

  Ibu spoke, herding the boys toward the table. “Ayo, mari kita makan.”

  Time to eat, perhaps? Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do. While her stomach loudly proclaimed hunger, there wasn’t a suitable place for her to sit. The fourth pillow, she assumed, belonged to the man of the house, wherever he might be. But Ibu urged her to be seated anyway, gesturing to the pillow and repeating, “Bergabung dengan kami,” several times.

  Jane nodded and said thank you to them, kneeling on a pillow before the food Ibu began to place around the table. Metal plates followed, and then small wooden cups into which she poured a reddish liquid. Next she came with the smaller of the two pots from the fire and ladled what Jane recognized as various vegetables onto each plate. She disappeared across the room but soon returned with the larger pot.

  This time what appeared on her plate resembled chicken in that it was white meat and bird-like covered with a generous amount of brownish-red sauce. And finally another plate piled high with cubes made of white rice was left near Jane’s right arm. At last Ibu seated herself and the three of them raised their hands to the heavens and turned their faces upward. In harmony, they sang.

  “Kami bersyukur kepada dewi rezeki untuk menyediakan.”

  And as though a door within her mind had just unlocked itself, Jane not only understood them, she knew immediately where she was and who she was with. She
gasped as the prayer continued.

  “May we find all that is good within the grace you have provided,” the family sang.

  The family. Her eyes darted from one to another, to another.

  The woman’s name was Jawahir, mother to Vasan and aunt to Ibrahim. The younger boy was Vasan. And the older boy. Her eyes widened in recognition as their heads and hands returned to normal positions. The older boy was her very own father, Ibrahim.

  How she knew was irrelevant to her. She looked around the hut, her jaw hanging open. They were in Malaysia. They were in the jungles of Sarawak, where Ibrahim and Vasan had spent their youth. The woman was one’s mother but appeared to be caring for both. Frowning, she looked to her left at the fresh young face of the boy called Tao. Tao and Vasan, two names for the same person whose father killed the beautiful woman now taking two rice cubes from the plate, before nodding that Jane should do the same.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” Jane said, shaking her head and rising to her feet. “Something’s wrong.”

  They, too, now understood her speech perfectly. “Yes and no,” Hakim replied, also rising. “You are from another time.”

  “Time? I thought we were hurled into another dimension, but…he’s not here.”

  “Who?” Jawahir asked, frowning. “Who is not here? My husband? He will return shortly.”

  When was this? Why was this? What was happening? Jane’s thoughts swam until she felt dizzy. “No, no, I can’t be here. This is wrong!”

  Both boys were suddenly at her sides and she was shuffled carefully through the door she’d seen Hakim emerge from earlier. Then there was a soft bed of feathers beneath her and a soothing hand on her forehead. “No,” she mumbled, trying to fight the hands away but finding blackness creeping into the corners of her vision.

  A loud and deep voice came from the next room. It was shouting, and although Jane could understand the three with her, this one she could not comprehend. It yelled louder, sounding more menacing.