Child of the Fall

by D Scott Johnson

  That seemed to please the little pest. “You trena secnik ton very smart without.”

  It sounded like a compliment, so he took it that way. “Thanks.”

  “Tal but with bekin be go. He your help does need. You him he all it, does need cannot provide wants not. I language understand learn to more am easier, him please now but for along with go.”

  “You’re still not making much sense.”

  “I sorry am. I simple will be. Your this home not is. You system another in are.”

  Mike restacked the words. Gonzo’s claim was so outrageous it must be a misunderstanding.

  Mike sat up. “Make that simpler.”

  “You home not are. You…” she switched to mosquito swearing, then stopped. “I word order language centuries in a have not used, you I inflections I and the can not hear using. I again try.” After a pause she said, “You star different orbiting are.”

  There was no time dilation. No delay. He’d communicated with Kim in real time. He was in a realm.

  “This believe, please. You star system different in a are. You danger and in are.”

  What Gonzo was trying to tell him could not happen using accepted laws of physics, but he was here. Reality always trumped theory, that was how science worked.

  Mike was in a realm, he was certain of that.

  But it wasn’t on Earth.

  Chapter 45

  Tonya

  When the portal’s light enveloped her, Tonya got the same sharp spike of vertigo she experienced before she ended up in the threaded room. Her feet unstuck, she stumbled, and then landed on her knees. The box squished under her chest as her vision cleared.

  Hide now!

  She wasn’t in the threaded room, which was a nice surprise. She was behind the portal. It’d only moved her a few dozen feet from where she’d been standing. But the room had changed. A dark orange light now ran across the ceiling. The front of the portal still flashed and rumbled, but now there were shadows in it.

  Move!

  The floor was covered in heavy cables that led to large cabinets toward the back of the room. Tonya grabbed the box and scurried behind one. She peered over the edge of her cabinet and had to blink twice to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Two giant, hulking forms stood at the base of the ramp. One was at least ten feet tall; the other was noticeably bigger. They were bipedal but covered in dark green hair. They had very broad, heavily muscled shoulders. Both wore full backpacks, and they carried a large box between them. When one looked over its shoulder, she was confronted with three glowing eyes. A small part of her tried to figure it out while a much larger one made her drop behind the cabinet. The beast hadn’t seen her; it was merely scanning the room.

  They barked and growled at each other. The smaller one unslung his backpack and pulled out a device. He held it out in front of him, and it exploded in lightning bolts that struck the robots sitting in front of the consoles. Those hadn’t been there before the portal zapped her. Each exploded in a shower of sparks and bangs. The creatures walked forward toward the exit, frying more robots as they went. When they got around a corner, the portal flared brightly once more.

  Stay where you are.

  That was an easy one to obey. And she could now. There was no compulsion. Whatever had held her was gone. The portal’s light became more intense, and Tonya hid behind the box and closed her eyes.

  Alarms rang to life, and when the portal’s brilliance died down, all that was left was emergency lighting.

  Then a voice.

  “Will someone please shut that off?”

  Everything went quiet, and the strobes quit flashing. The normal lights stayed off. Tonya was safely hidden in the darkness.

  A voice came over speakers above her head. “Dr. Treacher? Is June with you? We can’t see anything.”

  Tonya peered over her box. A large group of people had appeared and were now hugging and clapping each other on the back.

  “Yes, Inkanyamba, I’m here. What happened?” That was June du Plessis, Spencer’s contact at the plant.

  None of them had been in the room when the monsters had walked through it.

  “I…don’t know. We were trying to chase down the network problem, and then there was a system crash. When the cameras came back, you were all on the ground, and my robots were dead. The network is a mess now. I thought you were dead.”

  June pressed a button on a console. “We’re fine, guys. We got sucked into a realm.”

  “But—”

  “Oh my God!” someone shouted, and Tonya hit the deck again. But they hadn’t seen her. Tonya looked up. The portal had turned completely off.

  A short white woman with red hair marched up to June. Anna Treacher. “What happened to it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She leaned forward. “Fix it.”

  That didn’t please June one bit. “No.”

  Anna seemed stunned. “Excuse me?”

  “First, I do not know what went wrong. We don’t know how it works. Second, we fried a significant portion of our control bots, and we don’t know why. Third, we all went to a realm, and nobody was wearing a phone.” June took a second to get a grip on herself. “Finally, this could all have gone very wrong. I will not move forward until we understand what happened.” She looked at them all. “We could’ve lost the whole plant.”

  Anna nodded, also calmer now. “You’re right. We’ve had a genuine scare tonight. Whatever happened,” she indicated to the deactivated portal, “we can fix it. Once we know what’s going on.” She reached up and put a hand on June’s shoulder. “You’ve been working far too hard. I see that now. Come on, we’ll have some dinner together and then rest. You can start on all this in the morning. I do expect a report this time tomorrow.”

  “Absolutely, ma’am.”

  That seemed to be the cue for everyone else to start talking. Eventually they left.

  When the door closed, Tonya was left alone with the smoldering remains of the robots. She waited until she was sure nobody was coming back before she stood up and hefted the box onto the top of the cabinet. She ripped the tape off the top.

  Most of it was filled with an outfit cobbled together from what looked like stuff she’d find at a build site. There were knee, shin, and elbow pads, a utility belt, and a chest plate, all the same dark green color. The paint was fresh; Tonya could still smell it, although it was dry to the touch. There was even a helmet with a breathing mask and goggles. It was like someone had raided a cosplayer’s closet.

  Underneath a pair of long gloves, Tonya found the thing that had been talking to her: another phone. A piece of paper with the words PUT ME ON was taped to the neural lanyard. She would never be mistaken for Alice, but the feeling of being down a rabbit hole was hard to shake. A careful examination of the phone showed nothing remarkable. It instantly interfaced with her, as if it’d already been calibrated for the purpose.

  A holo drew itself to life in her shared vision. When it turned blue as it swirled, Tonya thought she had her answer. That damn bug again. Tonya hit Record on the phone so she could prove to everyone what he looked like. But when it fully formed, it wasn’t Cyril.

  It was her.

  “Sorry about the blue thing,” holo-Tonya said. “It was a dumb joke, but I don’t dare change it. Close your mouth, dear. You’ll catch flies.”

  Tonya closed her mouth. This was impossible.

  “It’s possible. But it’s also probably dangerous, I think, for you and maybe for everyone. I’ve waited until almost the last minute so I can give you as much guidance as possible. First things first,” she said as she heaved a helmet into the camera’s view. “You need to put the uniform on. It’s going to be your home for the next eight days.”

  It was identical to the helmet Tonya held in her hand. She gaped at it, then back at the holo. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  It was as if holo-Tonya could hear her, although this was a recording. “You won’t believe it coming from me, no
t yet. Check the date on your phone.”

  That was the most shocking of all. Since the phones required such precise timing to function with a human nervous system, their clocks could not be spoofed or manually changed.

  She’d gone back in time eight days.

  “Congratulations, Tonya Brinks,” holo-Tonya said. “You are now the first known chrononaut.” She smiled.

  Tonya had seen herself on video for as long as she could remember, but standing in front of the camera always came first. This was so very, very weird.

  “I’ve thought of some experiments. Here’s the first one. I’m pretty sure it’s safe since it’s just us. All of these things I’ve said on this tape you’re watching? Half of them are exactly what I recorded when I was you.” That sent chills down her spine. “I’m varying the other half on purpose, but I’m writing the original down. I won’t tell you which is which. Review my notes and see if there’s a variance.”

  There was. Fascinating.

  Chapter 46

  Kim

  The message from Tonya came a few minutes after they lost her signal in the elevator.

  Kim,

  I don’t have much time right now. I’ll tell you why that’s funny later. I’m sending the rental car back to you. Be here when they open the gate. Bring Emily and Mike. I haven’t found Will yet, but I have found Spencer and Edmund. Spencer has recruited June. Details to follow. -T.

  Emily folded in on herself when she read about Will, but then took a deep breath and straightened up. Kim needed that example right now, because Mike had become completely unresponsive. If it wasn’t for the medical control app, they would have to hospitalize him. It was still an option, but for now everything seemed fine.

  Except he was somewhere she couldn’t reach.

  “Spencer must’ve been waiting for her at the bottom of that elevator,” Kim said. “We’ve got people on the inside now. We’ll find Will and stop all this.”

  “I can’t stay here,” Emily said. “We can’t stay here, in this room. I haven’t been able to…” Whatever she was trying to say was hard. “Is it bad that I’m freaked out that I haven’t been able to exercise all this time?”

  It was out of left field, but it was perfect. Kim had forgotten all about such an easy way to get rid of tension. “I swim.”

  “I run. The hotel has a jogging track that goes around a pool. Can you put monitors on him? We won’t go far.”

  She didn’t want to leave Mike by himself, but he was as safe as Kim could make him. Will was helpless, held by people who wanted to hurt him. Emily came first in this contest. “Yes. If he wakes up or anything goes wrong, I’ll know.” There was a problem. “I can’t swim in my underwear.”

  “And I can’t run in these shoes.” Emily smiled, and Kim knew it would be all right. Not the big stuff. That still made her want to run away or explode. But tonight, it would be all right. “An Amazon drone will be here in fifteen minutes with what we need.”

  ***

  Water was one of the things Mama used to center her. When Kim came unglued, when someone touched her, or when it was all too much, a pool would fix it.

  Breathe, stroke, breathe, stroke.

  Using water as a way to relax stayed with her even after she’d grown up.

  Tuck, turn, push.

  The touch of it, being in control of it, made a big difference.

  Breathe, stroke, breathe, stroke.

  She wanted this for Will. Emily didn’t know about it yet, but this would be an important addition to his therapy. Kim spared a glance up at her, jogging on the track suspended above and around the pool.

  Tuck, turn, push.

  Swimming was her first connection with Mike. She’d stayed up far too late the night they met but couldn’t sleep. So she had gone swimming in the hotel pool. And then he showed up, crashing into the next lane as she swam by. Back then, she was at turns terrified and confused by him. But now? Now she wanted Mike back.

  Her head cracked into pool wall, and she saw stars. Kim grabbed the end of the lane, panting, trying to hold her head without sinking into the water. That hurt.

  “Are you okay?” Emily asked.

  Mike would be all right. He would. “I got distracted. How did you get down here so fast?”

  Emily shrugged. “I finished my laps.”

  Kim had been so preoccupied that she lost track of her own lap count, two higher than usual.

  “I ordered us mojitos.” Emily lowered a towel toward Kim so she could grab it. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” Kim took the towel and levered herself onto the apron of the pool. “Mama always claimed my head was the hardest thing Greece had ever produced. I said I came by it naturally.”

  That got a smile. “You’re Greek?”

  Kim nodded as she stood and dried off. “Second generation on my mom’s side. Mama met Dad when they were students. Most of the family came over after the last big market crash.” They moved to a nearby table and chairs just as the waiter bot rounded the corner with their drinks.

  Emily held up her glass. “To getting everyone back in one piece.”

  Kim clinked hers with Emily’s. “Sooner rather than later.”

  Like all indoor pools, this one was noisy and humid. A group of what looked like college kids had gathered in and around the hot tub on the far end of the room, but otherwise they were alone. Those people were likely heading to Anna’s power plant tomorrow. Students of the apocalypse.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Emily said.

  Kim needed a distraction. “Sure.”

  “Your tattoo. It’s beautiful. How did you get it?”

  The one-piece swimsuit Kim had selected from Amazon wasn’t showy or skimpy, but it was open at the back, revealing most of the two wing tattoos that covered her entire back. They were a living monument to the most spectacular artist she’d ever known.

  “One of our team was a tattoo artist who specialized in nano inks. Michiko. She gave them to me as a high school graduation gift. They took my entire senior year to complete.” Emily cocked her head a bit. She wanted to know how they’d managed it. “I’d spend hours in deep realm dives. I had to work up a custom patch to keep the neural interface from thinking the pain levels were dangerous.” They learned that the hard way. There was still a small scar on her hip from when the neural interface kicked Kim out of the realm with Michiko’s whole arm resting across Kim’s back.

  “What happened to them? I couldn’t find anything.”

  Kim only discovered the truth herself less than a year ago. It hurt less now than it did then, but it still hurt. It always would. “We got mixed up with some very bad people at the end. I’m the only survivor.”

  “Jesus, Kim, I’m sorry.”

  She blinked until she could see clearly and took another drink, only then realizing that it was empty. Emily’s was too. Kim placed a refill order on the hotel concierge network. “It’s the past, nothing can change it.” The robot came around with their drinks, giving her time to gather her thoughts. The how was important, but so was the why. “I got my wings as a tribute to my dad. He loved flying.”

  “I take it he’s not around anymore either?”

  It was a different ache, old truths mixed with new facts. “A gliding accident. I was about Will’s age.” Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the stress, or maybe it was the need to share the story with someone who already understood. Regardless, Kim told Emily the whole thing.

  Emily set her drink down. “I feel terrible for saying this because it’s awful what happened to you. But Will unlocks things like that, too. He’s done it at least three times that I can remember. Everyone else said it was bad electronics, random coincidences.”

  Kim let the pain go and switched gears. It was good Emily took a different lesson from her story. Learning about the syndrome was the point. “In some ways it is. Mama said she could always tell how old a car was by how long it took me to unlock the door as I walked past it. It only stoppe
d when I unlocked.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “I was ten.”

  “And you never went back to…before?” Emily asked.

  “I did at first.” By some unspoken signal they both got up from the table and set off for the room. Mike’s monitors were green. They’d been that way the whole time. “I knew how to talk, but not when, and if I made a mistake, I would shut down for days. Learning to sing got me past that, although we never figured out why.”

  “Was it rhythm?”

  Kim shrugged as they walked through the door. “Rhythm, timing, phrasing, the whole thing is my guess. Songs gave me the structure I needed to understand the parts of talking I missed out on when I was locked up.”

  “And that’s what it felt like to you? Being locked up?”

  “Only when it was over. I didn’t have words before then. Sometimes I’ll see or hear something that reminds me of those days. An advertisement with a kaleidoscope effect, a chaotic passage in a song that’s basically noise in key, even certain smells, and I have this memory. But there’s no sequence, no coherence, nothing came before, and there was no after. It’s just there.” Kim grabbed some clean night clothes out of her bag. “Does that make any sense at all?”

  Emily sat down on her bed. “A little. But he’s not in any pain?”

  She stopped on her way to the bathroom and turned around. This was important to get across. “As long as no one touches him, no. It wasn’t painful. It was frustrating, scary, and confusing, but there was no pain.” For Kim, that came later. Will would make better choices. “I wouldn’t even call it bad. From Mama’s stories, they knew how to make me laugh.”

  “Yes,” Emily said as her face fell. “He laughs sometimes.”

  “Hey,” Kim waited for Emily to look up. “We’ll get him back. I’ll do anything I can to make that happen.”

  As soon as the words came out, they felt wrong, a hint instead of a vow. Kim had no idea why she’d said it.

  Emily changed; her eyes scanned Kim up and down. An assessment.

  “I believe you,” she said. “And now I think I finally understand why.”