by Rachel Ford
Still, it was an idea, and the Ministry of Science seemed pretty taken by it. Which gave Alfred hope that maybe, just maybe, they would have some kind of eleventh hour save.
Unlike the others who were hurrying off to their labs, Ki’Altan approached the trio. The premier seemed to have aged a decade since the last time Alfred had seen them. Deep chasms formed in their brow, and deep, purplish ruts sat under their eyes. “I have not seen them so hopeful in a week,” they said. “I do not know if you have delivered us, Alfred Favero; but you have brought hope, and that is something at least. Thank you.”
Alfred felt a little ridiculous accepting thanks for passing on a tip as half-formed as the one Winthrop shared. But he didn’t argue with the premier. “I hope it brings more than hope, Premier.”
“You and me both.” Ki’Altan smiled and glanced now between him and Nancy. “I am sorry that you must share this fate. As I understand it, you lived long and pleasant lives in your own timeline; at least, you would have, if this had not happened.”
“My memories have not changed,” Li said with a serene smile. “I will worry only when those happy remembrances disappear.”
Litri, now, loosed a low, derisive laugh and stood. “I am returning home, Ki’Altan. Will you come with me?”
A shadow crossed the premier’s face. “You know I cannot, Litri. Not while there is hope left.”
“There is no hope here: only the empty promises of fools.
“You are my mate. I ask you to share these last moments with me.”
“And I will gladly do so. But it must be here, for my duty does not allow me to leave.”
Litri’s gaze hardened. “I will not spend my final hours here, among fools who cannot accept the inevitable – who look to humans for assistance.”
Li turned pained eyes to their offspring. “Oh my Litri, what has become of you? When did your heart grow so burdened with darkness?”
The younger alien shot a poisonous glance their parent’s way. “I was not speaking to you, Fool.”
“Litri, please,” Ki’Altan murmured. “Now is not the time.”
“It is never the time, is it? And now we are out of time – thanks to this fool, and his love of the humans. Now we are out of time for everything, forever.” Litri turned back to their progenitor. “Thanks to you.”
Li shook their head sadly. “You shame me with your words, Litri, but the dishonor you bring on yourself is far greater. Your hate has eclipsed your reason.
“Once, you were wise and the pride of my heart. As a youngling, your potential was unmatched. Now, you have become a fool. In your adulthood, you behave like a youngling yet in diapers, ruled by the passions of the moment, cruel and injudicious. Now, seeing what you have become is a grief to my old age.”
Things predictably went downhill from there. Litri disowned their progenitor on the spot and raged for a good two minutes about the decadence of humanity and the grotesqueness of a member of species as advanced as the Geejayans being so enraptured as Li was. In the young Geejay’s eyes, Li was some manner of degenerate; and this catastrophe was nothing but the predictable outcome of an intelligent species mingling with an undeveloped one: humanity.
Once that had been established, Ki’Altan managed to pry their partner away. “I shall return,” the premier promised, which provoked a fresh outburst from Litri.
“Why bother coming with me at all? You might as well stay with them, if you prefer their company so much.”
“Well,” Alfred said once the pair had left, “I’m thinking divorce might be in their future.”
Li nodded. “It is a terrible thing to see one you care for become one you can no longer respect. A grievous thing.”
Alfred didn’t know what to say to that. His homelife had hardly been idyllic. But, then, he’d never respected his older brother, so he couldn’t begin to understand the other being’s sense of loss.
Nancy, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what to say, like she usually did. She expressed sympathy, and offered support, and generally let the old alien speak their mind.
The clock ticked ever onward. More fire fell from the sky, and more flaming chunks of rock. Buildings disintegrated near the palace.
Ki’Altan returned, looking grim faced and worried. “I am sorry. I know it may be difficult to believe, but that is not my Litri. The stress – it’s taking a terrible toll on them.”
Alfred wasn’t particularly convinced, but he didn’t argue either. What did it matter, really? They were a few hours from death. If making excuses for their partner would make Ki’Altan’s moments a little easier, well, so be it.
And still, the clock kept ticking. The scientists didn’t return. An hour passed, and another. More of the city went up in smoke and broken glass. The sky turned a deeper, richer blaze orange. The planet began to groan underneath them.
“The crust will collapse,” Ki’Altan said. “That’s what our models predict.”
Which, naturally, did nothing to put the taxman’s mind at ease. On the contrary, his heart leaped into his mouth with every tremble or shudder.
But finally, the scientists did come back. They were carrying a device that looked similar to Nancy and Alfred’s own spacetime manipulator: a sleek, small metallic gizmo covered in dials and levers and buttons.
The scientists addressed the premier. “We have duplicated an exact replica of the device that opened the rift but reversing the energy fields. We believe this will create an equal and opposite field – a reverse rift, if you will – that will effectively counterbalance the rift.”
Ki’Altan nodded. “That’s excellent.”
“Yes. But there are two caveats.”
Alfred groaned to himself. The last time someone had mentioned caveats, he’d wound up stuck in a doomsday apocalyptic world.
“The first being that this device has never been field tested. We believe it will work, but it remains purely theoretical until someone pushes the button. And what happens then – well, we will see.
“As for the second…the only way for this to work, even if our design and fabrication are flawless, is to engage the counter rift at the precise point of origin of the original rift.”
Alfred frowned. He wasn’t quite following, but that still didn’t sound good.
Nancy, though, asked, “You mean, we have to jump right into your star, the same way Robert did when he started the rift?”
The elder Geejay bobbed their head. “Exactly.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I will do it,” Li Muldan said, their voice clear and crisp in the near silence. “I will open the second rift.”
“I cannot permit that,” Ki’Altan said. “You are my family through joining.”
The old alien smiled. “I think there will be no love lost there. Probably, I will do you a favor.”
“No. I won’t let you do it, Li. I’m serious. I am premier. If anyone must die to save this world, it will be me.”
“We don’t know that you will die,” the scientist cautioned. “And we don’t know that you will save the world. You may enter the rift; and we have no way of knowing what the conditions inside are like. You may cease to be, or you may enter a plane of existence beyond comprehension.”
“Regardless, the risk is mine. I shall take it.”
Nancy had been frowning in silence all this time. “No. No, Premier: it was the IBTI that started this mess. It’s our job to fix it. I’ll jump.”
Alfred gaped at her. “Like hell, Nance. If one of us are going, it’s me.”
Four voices set to arguing at that: Alfred insisting that he couldn’t let her die; she insisting that he must live and report back to Winthrop; Li arguing that he was the oldest among all of them, and had the least to lose; and Ki’Altan asserting both his privilege and duty as premier.
The scientists watched and listened in quiet but clear consternation. Once or twice, a timid voice urged, “Time is of the essence.”
But the four kept on arguing and migh
t have gone on doing so longer had not a roar like thunder boomed directly overhead. They all of one accord looked upward toward the glass roof; and saw with terror filled eyes a great fiery ball headed straight for the university building.
Geejays started to run this way and that. Alfred grabbed the device from the trembling lead scientist who, having discharged his burden, fled into the chaos. The taxman had every intention of putting a few paces between himself and Nance and pressing the button; and he might have been able to enact that plan, had he had a better understanding of how to control the devices. As it was, he stared with confusion at the device until Nance whisked it out of his hand.
She started to enter the coordinates of GJ-273, while Ki’Altan demanded she hand it over. “We’ve no time to lose.”
Li had stopped arguing, though. They stared up at the approaching projectile and – to Alfred’s absolute astonishment – smiled.
The meteor tore through the tower. Shards of glass from higher stories crashed overhead. The chandelier trembled so violently crystals broke free.
Then it all disappeared in a flash of white light and soft noise. Then heat and searing light burst into Alfred’s consciousness, assaulting every sense so violently that he felt certain: this was death.
And then, an instant later, he found himself staring up at the chandelier exactly as he had been a moment earlier. Except the upper stories of the glass palace were intact. All the crystals overhead hung exactly as they had before the meteor. Indeed, nothing was out of place or damaged. The fires that had raged outside were gone, the buildings that had lain in piles of rubble, rebuilt; the tree that had burned, whole.
“Uh…what just happened.”
“We…we shut the rift,” Nancy said. “We jumped into the sun with the device and – somehow – ended up back here.”
“Okay. How? And how could we jump at all, when we couldn’t use our own device?”
“Your device utilized the same energy as the rift,” Li said. “The rift’s expansion locked that energy into place. This device did not. It utilized another pathway through time and space.”
Which still didn’t explain how they’d survived, or how the planet seemed suddenly restored to wholeness. But that was as far as the alien’s explanations went. It was as far as any of them got until the scientists stopped their panicking and flocked back to them.
Even then, they had only theories. They theorized that the second rift had undone everything the first had done: forcibly reversing those events and catastrophes that had already happen. The universes that had collapsed into each other had been pulled apart, each returning to its original form. Everything that had gone through the rift went back to wherever it came from, and the star overhead returned to its normal state.
Or so the scientists speculated. “It will be many long months, or perhaps years, before we know for certain – if we know for certain,” Ki’Altan told them. “But we know this: the rift is gone, and order has been restored once more to the multiverse. Life is safe.
“I cannot say what will happen going forward between our world and the IBTI. We may speak with them, and we may not. But for your parts, Nancy and Alfred, you are as welcome on our world as any Geejayan. I hope very much to see you again.”
The same could not be said of Litri, but the younger alien at least attempted a cordial response. They didn’t admit being wrong, but they did say, “You have exceeded my expectations. I suppose I must congratulate you on that.”
Li, of course, received the news with delight. “I do have to ask one thing,” Alfred said. “When the meteor was coming for us, why in the hummus were you smiling at it?”
The alien smiled again. “Because: I told you, my memories did not change. If you had died now, in your far future, I would not have been able to see you again, in my past – your near future. But I still remembered seeing you and meeting your children; and our families playing together.
“So I knew that you did not die here.”
As complex and multifaceted as time and multiverse paradoxes were, Alfred couldn’t quite credit the other being’s confidence. Still, they had survived, which meant they needed to get a report back to Winthrop – not least of all, before the IBTI did something stupid to try to stave off an end of the multiverse that had already been avoided.
So with a few congratulations for a job well done, they made ready to take their leave. Li grew suddenly very pensive. “I suppose this is goodbye, then.”
But Alfred shook his head. “No. No, it’s not goodbye. I’ve been thinking about that. The IBTI is always sending us in to clean up their messes. We don’t get paid for it, or anything else. So I was thinking, if we want to do a little jumping across time and space to visit a very good friend, well, Winthrop’s just going to have to accept that, isn’t he?”
Nancy nodded. “I think so.”
Li beamed. “My dear, dear friends: I cannot tell you how much joy it would bring me to see you again. Any time at all, you are most welcome. I shall have cakes and tea for you, and anything your heart desires. I shall take you on a tour of my world as – so many years ago – you took me on tours of yours.”
They agreed that this sounded very good. “And maybe you could come back with us,” Nancy suggested. “We’re not exactly world class chefs, but we could have you over for dinner.”
Li’s smile only broadened. “To revisit Earth? Oh, I should like that very much, Nancy Abbot.
“And, if I may make one small request?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Might you perhaps buy some eggs?”
Nancy blinked, and Alfred blanched. “Eggs?”
“Oh yes. Of all the foods I enjoyed on your planet – and I enjoyed many – eggs were always my favorite. So juicy and crunchy.”
Alfred felt his stomach turn. He remembered only too well Li Muldan popping whole, raw eggs into his mouth and crunching and sloshing away. Still, he managed, “Of course, Li. We’ll have eggs. And – well, other food too.”
“How delightful. How absolutely delightful.”
They picked a time and date – that Sunday, in Alfred and Nancy’s time, and the next day in Li’s. And then, the alien establishing a few more times that this was a delightful turn of events, and waxing almost poetic about the perfection of eggs, they took their leave.
Winthrop was waiting for them in the kitchen, slumped over the kitchen island and feeding Satan ice cream from a spoon – a spoon he would then put right back into the carton for more.
Nancy’s focus on debriefing their IBTI handler was the only thing that kept Alfred from throwing the other man out of their house on the spot. Still, he did get in a good rant about teaching his cat terrible habits and polluting their food.
Winthrop seemed unphased by all of that. Nancy’s story, on the other hand, he heard with rapt interest. In the end, he conceded that they’d done a good job. “The science bit of it boggles my brain, I’ll admit.”
“In a way,” Nance said, “I think we kind of treated the multiverse we would a crashing computer: shut it down and rebooted it.”
“Well, thank goodness it came back online.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…and you said the premier fellow said he’d consider relations with the IBTI?”
“Yup.”
“Capital, capital.”
“Well then…I guess that’s that. Good job, Abbot. Good job, Favero.”
“Oh. One more thing,” Nancy said.
“What’s that?”
“As part of the effort to maintain friendly relations between IBTI people and the Geejayans…we’re going to be spending a lot of time with Councilor Muldan.”
Winthrop frowned. “Look, I know he’s your friend. But you can’t just take these things on joyrides around time and space.”
Nancy raised her palms. “I’m just telling you what they said. You don’t want us to go, that’s more time to focus on our cases. But I thought you guys wanted to get the Geejays to work with you
is all.”
Winthrop’s frown deepened, and then he sighed. “Fine, fine. I suppose we have no choice. But you better be on your best behavior, you two. You’re going to be representing the IBTI. Anything that alien wants, you give it to him, you understand?”
“They. And of course,” Alfred agreed hastily.
“Even if they want to travel the multiverse, or explore new planets?” Nancy asked.
Winthrop winced. “He didn’t say that, did he?”
“Not outright. They kind of…implied it.”
“Ugh. One of those big brained do-gooders galivanting all over space and time? It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Still, as long as he’s not interfering with anything, you’d better do it. They’re a smart species. And we need as many smart people as we can get in the IBTI.”
Alfred fought, and beat, the urge to remark sarcastically, That’s for sure. Instead, he said, “Fine, if you think it’ll help.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alfred got into work the next morning with every intention of filling out his application. Nance brought her things back to her office and gave him a kiss. “Good luck, babe.” But two things intervened. The first was Justin, who, along with the rest of the team, had just learned about Rodriguez’s death.
The other man wanted to commiserate at length with Alfred. “It feels like…I don’t know…like we lost a brother, you know what I mean? Like a little piece of our collective soul is just…” Justin mimed something disappearing in a puff. “Gone.”
The second distraction was the search window he’d opened the day before, with Midwest typed out. As soon as he’d logged in and seen that, he remembered what he’d been doing before fleeing his office.
Part of him wanted to lower the window and get to work on his application. But the indefatigable spirit of a seasoned law enforcement professional couldn’t allow it. Someone had paid that hitman, after all. And that someone was still out there.