The 7th Lie

by Tamara Grantham

  I scrutinized him. “What if I refuse to go?” Maybe it was a stupid question, but one that needed to be asked.

  “That would be unwise.” His voice took on a hardened edge. “Keep in mind, you weren’t some random person we picked from the streets. We’ll never find someone to replace you. Your EPC is necessary to find the seven pieces of cerecite. Use it to your advantage. Come back to us with the seven stones. That’s all we’re asking.”

  I closed my eyes to calm the nerves fluttering in my stomach. “All right,” I answered. “Send me through the gateway. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Standing, I grabbed my backpack off the floor and faced the looming arch of glowing lights. Whatever was there, I was about to find out.

  Chapter 3

  I squinted my eyes against the blinding fluorescent lights lining the gateway’s outer edge. My image reflected in the mirrorlike façade. My tall frame reminded me of the photo of Mima June standing by a fence post with her knife strapped to her belt. The reflection wavered, as if it were made of quicksilver. I reached for it, but I hesitated before touching it.

  “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you,” Logan said behind me.

  “Why not? I’m going to walk through it, aren’t I?”

  “Sure, but it could cut your fingers off or something.”

  I forced a nervous laugh. “I doubt it.”

  Logan stood between me and the gateway, blocking the glare so I could see again. Scruff grew on his wind-chapped face. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. I’d never thought of him as handsome, but at forty-something, he did remind me of my dad, and I had this insane urge not to disappoint him.

  “Hey, kid, be careful out there, wherever you’re going.”

  “I will.”

  “You got your weapon?”

  “Always.” I bent and pulled the knife out of my boot. The pearl-inlaid handle had worn in the places where Grandma’s hands had held it. I wasn’t sure my fingers fit as well as hers. “I’d bring the Sig-Sauer, but you know, it wouldn’t be civilization appropriate and all that.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Maybe they’ve got lightsabers on the other side,” I suggested. “Or phasers. That would be cool.”

  “Nerd,” he joked.

  “Army brat,” I countered.

  He nodded at my knife. “The locals are most likely using pitchforks for all we know.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “They’ve got cerecite. They built a dome. There’s technology out there.”

  “Probably true.” He sighed. “Hey, Harper, be careful, all right? I’d hate to have trained you just for you to turn up dead. Wouldn’t look good on my resume.”

  “Ha ha,” I said sarcastically.

  “I’m serious. We don’t know why the last fourteen agents never came back. There’s something dangerous on the other side. Just watch your back.”

  “I will,” I answered. “I have no intentions of dying.”

  “Good. I have no intentions of waiting around forever for you to come back. I’m giving you a month, tops, then I’m headed to Hawaii for a much-needed vacation. If there’s another flare on the way, I’m going out in style.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll think of you when I’m huddled up in some igloo freezing my ass off.”

  He smiled. “And I’ll think of you when I’m sitting on the beach drinking a piña colada watching the sun explode.”

  With a heavy sigh, I turned to the gateway. “It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Another flare.”

  “Yeah,” he answered with seriousness.

  Silence pressed between us. The gateway shimmered like a wall of liquid mercury. What would it be like to walk through it?

  “You’ll be fine,” Logan said, as if he sensed my unease. “The other agents reported making it through, though I hear it’s a rough transition. Just don’t pop a lung and you’ll be fine.”

  “Pop a lung? That’s a new one.”

  He waved his hand. “Or get a concussion or break an arm or whatever it is the others reported.”

  Agent Steele approached us, looking businesslike as he carried a chrome-plated tube resembling a flashlight and handed it to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked. The metal weighed heavy and chilled my fingers. “My lightsaber?”

  “No,” he said without humor. “A scanner. You’ll be able to detect elemental substances, including cerecite. Your AI unit can tell you how it works. Just be careful with it. Those instruments inside are fragile, which is why your bag is lined with Kevlar. The scanner will be protected if it’s in your backpack.”

  “Got it.” I unzipped my pack and stuffed it inside.

  “Also.” He held up a leather band decorated with a tarnished silver disc. “You’ve got some new jewelry. Once you get on the other side...” he lifted the band to reveal a letter “V” etched into the sliver disc... “press this button to communicate with Agent Fifteen. Wearing an earbud will be a dead giveaway you’re from another dimension.”

  “And this?” I unzipped my mom’s old bomber jacket and pointed to my sweater printed with the words Red Shirt. I May Not Make It. “Not sure if they’ve heard of Star Trek over there.”

  “Right. Wait till you get to the other side. The informant will have a change of clothes for you.”

  “Understood,” I said as I strapped on the leather band, then took out my earbud and handed it to Steele.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah. How about you stop asking me that and let me get on with this.”

  His hesitant smile told me he was either amused or put out at my snark, but I had to have a sense of humor through all this. Otherwise, I was certain I’d lose my mind, especially with the revelation of another flare. A gaggle of scientists gathered around us as I faced the gateway.

  One of the scientists stepped to me and placed a pulse lead sticker on my neck. “We’ll measure your vitals until you get to the other side. After that, you’re on your own.”

  “I understand,” I said, then gave a pointed look at Logan. “You’ll tell my dad... if I don’t make it back...” This was harder to say than I imagined.

  Logan gave a single nod. “He’ll know.”

  “Thank you,” I managed.

  As I crossed toward the portal, a clammy sweat broke out on my skin. “I’m doing this to save our world,” I whispered to myself. No. Not good enough.

  Another step.

  “I’m doing this to find out what’s out there.” I can do better.

  One more step.

  I’m doing this because I love Dad. Because he deserves to be happy, to have a daughter who finishes what she starts. Because I need him to survive, or else I’ll die with him.

  The gateway’s quicksilver surface reflected my image. It showed the determination in my eyes—and the fear.

  I stepped through the gateway.

  Chapter 4

  Silver encased me.

  The air escaped my lungs, and a boom blasted.

  I fell. My stomach dropped, and I landed hard on a stone floor. Stars replaced my vision. My wrist screamed with pain. The fall would have knocked the wind out of me if I’d had oxygen in my lungs.

  Gasping, I used my good arm to push to a sitting position. I blinked until I could see.

  Glass lay in shards around me. Thousands of tiny slivers were all that remained of the computer screens and mirrors. The quiet came as a shock. Rubbing my forehead, I tried to think through the blinding pain in my head and my wrist.

  Nausea welled in my stomach. Spots danced in my vision.

  A door banged loudly, pulling my gaze up the staircase and to the open doorway on the landing above me.

  The room looked exactly the same as the one I’d come from, down to the computer monitors and steel-plated walls, except everything here was smashed. Glass lay in glittering shards over the floor. The portal gateway was twisted, and the metal blackened. A mangled mess of wire
s and metal casing replaced what had once been the outer shell. What had happened to it?

  I climbed to my feet and pulled my backpack up with me.

  My rational brain noted the blood pooling on the floor and dripping behind me. With a quick glance at my hands, I saw cuts slicing across my skin, although adrenaline masked the pain.

  I fumbled my bag open and pulled out some gauze with my good hand, then did a sloppy job of wrapping it around my cuts. Logan would be appalled, but it was better than leaving the wounds open to the air.

  After closing my bag, I studied the remains of the gateway door, touching a piece of cold metal. “No wonder it almost killed me to come through it.”

  Glancing around the room, I forced my mind to slow down and think through my situation. I most likely had a concussion. A sprained or broken wrist. Judging by how swollen it had gotten, my bet was on the latter.

  I needed to find the informant, and I needed help.

  With a wince, I managed to press the button on my leather band, thankfully wrapped around the uninjured arm.

  “...Harper...” a staticky voice chirped. “You...made...”

  “Hey, Fifteen. I’m alive. I’m here, wherever that is.” I turned in a circle around the room, my boots crunching over glass. “This place is pretty destroyed. I don’t think I’ll be going home this way. Can you tell me where I should find this informant?”

  “Not far. Half-a-mile to the east... last known location. Latitude. Fifteen degrees... Longitude. Thirty degrees...West. Coordinates. Fifteen. Ten. Twenty... Four-fifty-six.”

  “You’re cutting out. Can you repeat?”

  His voice came through, but the static made it impossible to hear.

  “Fifteen. Repeat.”

  The static stopped. The silence came back, more deafening than before. Glancing around the room, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.

  Alone. In a foreign reality. Communications were shot. Multiple injuries. Well, at least it couldn’t get much worse.

  “Says the girl about to be attacked by aliens...” I muttered as I crossed to the stairs. Every step sent pain shooting down my spine, and the tiniest movements made my wrist scream. When I reached the top landing, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. The open door slammed backward in the wind, hanging awkwardly off its hinges. I stared past the door leading to my new reality. The snowy landscape stretched. Snow crunched underfoot as I stood on the bunker’s threshold. Wind howled, and ice crystals blustered past. In the light of the storm, blue globes radiated light over the barren waste.

  Steele’s words came back to me.

  The difference in this reality is the round stones. They’re made of cerecite on this side. I went to the closest one and ran my gloved hand over it, dusting the snow off the top, then knelt to be eye-level. The turquoise glow danced like firelight inside the stone.

  “Beautiful,” I said to myself, looking from one stone to the next. They lit my path through the storm. As I walked from one glowing rock to the next, I unhooked my compass from my backpack and got my bearings.

  The compass needle danced in slow circles. I bumped it several times until it turned a lazy circle to true north. When the needle lined up, I turned to face west.

  The sun hung low on the horizon, a gray, shadowy ball behind thick clouds. Icy wind burned my cheeks as I trekked over the snow-packed ground. I licked my cracked, dry lips. Oxygen froze in my chest.

  Whoever had destroyed the gateway bunker had done one hell of a job. I was lucky to be alive. The only reason I’d survived was because my side of the gate still functioned.

  It bothered me that the gateway had been destroyed. Not only did it mean I didn’t have a ride home, it also meant someone had made some enemies here.

  “I can’t wait to meet them,” I mumbled, my exhale coming out in a puff of wispy white air.

  My boots sank into the powdery snow. I kept my hood down as I trudged, using the boulder’s light to guide me.

  On the horizon, evergreen trees appeared. I stopped, narrowing my eyes, making sure I wasn’t seeing things.

  Trees.

  There hadn’t been any trees on the Champ Island I knew. But this was a different reality.

  Hiking to the forest, I spotted a thin line of smoke churning from a chimney and a log cabin tucked inside the woods.

  Excitement spurred my movements. The informant. Had to be.

  Still, if I were wrong. If the person were hostile...

  My hands shook with cold as I grabbed my knife out of my boot. Wind blustered, and I wiped the flakes of snow off my face before approaching.

  “Stop,” a gruff voice barked behind me. “Drop the weapon.”

  I stiffened. Should’ve known he would’ve been outside. Then again, if this were the informant, maybe I could negotiate.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “My name’s Harper,” I answered. “Sabine Harper.”

  A moment of silence ticked past. “You’re with Vortech?”

  Anxiety trickled through my blood. If he were hostile and I admitted to being Vortech, what then? But I had to take that chance. I would be dead out here if I didn’t find help soon. “Yes,” I answered.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  I did as he said and spun to face him. Fear darted down my spine. A mammoth of a man loomed over me. His grizzled, graying beard and his weathered skin, sunburnt in patches on his cheeks and nose, hinted at a life spent outdoors. Malice exuded from the hunch of his shoulders to his narrowed eyes. Snow particles blew around him, blustering his coat of animal furs. He drew a bone hilted machete from a sheath at his waist. Blood splotches marred its tarnished surface.

  “I’m Ivan Nordgren. Your informant.” He pulled the furs away from his hand, showing me a leather band around his wrist. The round, metal disc gleamed. It looked identical to mine. He nodded at my blade. “You can put that away.”

  “You first.”

  He shrugged, then stuck the machete in its sheath.

  I held my knife for a second longer, then placed it back in my boot. As I straightened, he narrowed his gaze at me.

  “You’re the next lab rat, huh?” He spat a glob of brown spit on the ground. “You from the states?”

  “Yes. Kansas. You?”

  “Alaska. Wilderness guide before I came here. That was thirty years ago. Looks like you made it, though. Wasn’t sure you’d get through the gateway in one piece.”

  “I made it. Not sure about the one-piece part.” I nodded to my sling.

  “Injured, huh?”

  “Yeah. Broke my wrist. Hit my head, too. That was one hell of a welcome.”

  He reached inside his fur-lined vest and pulled out a metal flask. “This should help. There’s green cerecite mixed in it. Should fix that injury.”

  “Green cerecite?”

  “Yes. Helps with healing.”

  I cocked my head. “I’m supposed to find cerecite. What’s it doing in your drink?”

  “You’re looking for white cerecite. The pure stuff,” he clarified. “There’s all sorts of cerecite on this island. Blue, yellow. Green. We use green for healing, so you’d better drink up.”

  I took the flask from him, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed the contents. The pungent scent burned my nose. “It smells delicious.”

  “Don’t knock it.” He laughed. “You won’t find anything better at healing than green cerecite.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” I looked inside the flask where a dark greenish liquid swirled, then I pressed the opening to my lips. The drink slid down my throat, tasting of wheat grass juice. I swallowed, then shoved the flask back to him.

  “I’ve tasted worse.”

  He smiled as he stuffed the metal container back into his vest.

  “Let’s get you inside. There’s a lot you need to know before you start hunting white cerecite.”

  He stepped to the cabin when a glowing wolf bounded to us and jumped on Ivan’s legs.

  “Whoa there, Brutus.
We’ve got a friend here.” He patted the beast’s head before turning to me. “Say hello to Agent Harper.”

  I approached the wolf, curiosity tugging at me as I inspected the blue strands of its fur. “Your wolf is glowing.”

  “Mystik wolf,” he explained. “All the animals on this island look the same.”

  I knelt by the creature and patted its head. My photographic memory jumped out. Wolf. Canis Lupus. The individual strands of fur were soft to the touch, though they resembled crystals, and I assumed they must’ve been featherlike to be so smooth.

  I glanced up at Ivan. “What causes the glow?”

  “It’s the green cerecite that does it. Someone who takes in this stuff all their lives—well, it changes their cells. After they die, a portion of their DNA stays around, gets turned into something else. Mother Nature’s way of recycling. You’ll see these creatures roaming all over the place.”

  “This is incredible.”

  The wolf barked, and I gave it a playful pat before standing up.

  “Let’s head in,” Ivan called, waving, as he trudged to the cabin. I followed him through the snow, the wolf trotting in front of me.

  A million questions swam through my mind. I’d expected this reality to have its differences, but this? Glowing wolves and miraculous healing potions? Where did it all come from?

  When I stepped through the door, warmth exuded from a fireplace at the far wall. A table and a few chairs decorated the room. Shelves with books and knickknacks lined the wall to my right, and a cot strewn with worn blankets took up the floor space nearby.

  “Sit.” He pointed to a roughly hewn chair by a makeshift table.

  I placed my bag on the ground and rested on the seat, the wood creaking.

  Exhaustion crashed with me. I could sleep right here in the chair and be refreshed come morning.