“Maybe they’re trusting to our inability to see them. Thousands of years have passed and we’ve never invaded them.”
“I suppose that could lead to a sense of false security. Still, someone large and strong was definitely guarding the portal Wilfert went through.”
With a grimace, I press my fingers against the ache that still lingers within my forehead. I need no reminders of that day. But entering the portal has proven easier than I feared. “Let me slip in a little farther and take a closer look.”
“Not without me,” he says. “Have you powered down your holoband?”
“I didn’t even think of it.” I do so now.
“What if you can’t see the portal from the other side?”
“One way to find out.”
I take a deep breath as though I’m about to dive into deep water. His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. “I won’t risk you getting stuck in there alone.”
I also clasp my hand around his wrist, just as we did at the seashore, and put my face into the light. Seeing no one, I step all the way through. There’s the portal, shining dimly with Ethan’s blue sleeve sticking through it.
I return and make my report. “It looks exactly the same on the other side. Still no guard.”
“All right. We go together this time. Do you have Caedmon’s gadget?”
Caedmon has given us a tiny device that will take a number of readings—weather and atmospheric data, length of daylight hours, surveillance video and such—and beam them back through the portal. I pull it from the pocket of my suit.
“Very good. Let’s go.”
We enter again, this time I’m pulling Ethan behind me. When we’re fully through, he regains his sight. “Unbelievable,” he says again. But this time it’s barely a whisper. He’s already crouched, his senses on full alert. Together, we creep toward a clump of underbrush where we can observe without being seen.
Nothing moves around us. Only birds and a squirrel, high up in a tree. “It’s an oak,” I say, touching the bark. I’m not familiar with the subspecies, but it’s definitely an oak. “And there’s some type of aspen. And that looks very much like a fox squirrel.”
The animal has climbed lower, peering at us through the branches. Then it flicks its tail in a remarkably familiar movement and darts away.
Ethan fingers an oak leaf. “No wonder Ruby didn’t know she’d skipped between worlds. It’s identical to ours.”
Birdsong fills the air. Some cadences I recognize immediately. Others I’ve never heard before. “There’s a finch,” I say, pointing out a bird with odd markings. “And some kind of sparrow. They must have migrated here long ago and adapted. But they’re definitely the same avian families as earth.”
Ethan drops the leaf to the ground. “I’m interested in more intelligent life forms. Let’s move.”
“Wait.”
A glance at Caedmon’s gadget tells me what I already know. The air here is perfectly fine. If the animals don’t need body suits, neither do I. Ruby certainly didn’t have one. I yank off my hood and visor and fling it back through the portal. Then I flex my shoulders. “Much better.”
Ethan’s expression is dark and reprimanding, but he holds back the lecture when he sees that my skin hasn’t dissolved or burst into flame. A moment later, his headgear wings through the portal too. “Let’s go,” he says again.
A trail leads from the portal downward. He begins to follow it, but I have spotted a rocky bluff through the tops of the trees in the opposite direction. “Not that way,” I hiss. I point upward. “There. Let’s get the lay of the land.”
I must have earned credibility points during wilderness training, because he follows without question. The ridge rises sharply. It’s a tough ascent, and my elevated heart rate pounds the headache deeper into my skull. We stick to tree cover as much as possible, our steps muffled by the thick layer of pine needles covering the ground. As we climb, I am reminded of the heights Will and I scaled so often back home.
We reach the top of the rise, and I move us laterally along the ridge. Eventually the trees give way and we’re standing on a bluff several hundred feet high, overlooking the direction from which we came. From this vantage point, we can see that the land slopes all the way down to the edge of an ocean or a vast lake. Far below, a complex of ugly beige buildings sprawls out on the flat plain of the shoreline, complete with a wharf that could service good-sized ships. The compound nestles in a snug harbor between two rocky promontories.
“I sure would like to know what’s inside those buildings,” Ethan mutters.
“Don’t even think about it,” I tell him.
“Oh, I’m thinking. But not for this mission. We’ll have to come back.”
I can see his brain working, memorizing the compound’s layout, looking for access points, weaknesses. I’m more focused on the sun sinking into the water in front of us and wondering how quickly darkness falls here. We still have a significant hike back to the portal.
As I study our surroundings, a cold hand slowly reaches into my chest and starts to squeeze. It takes a moment for my brain to tell me what my heart knew intuitively. I check and recheck to make sure I’m not imagining it. I’m not.
“Um, Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s Settlement 56 below us.”
Annoyance flickers over his face. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jack.”
“I’m not joking. The layout of the land is the same. Exactly the same.” I grab a branch to stabilize myself as I take one more look around, just to make sure, but the similarities are uncanny. “Replace those buildings with houses and a school, and put a cannery just there. The harbor is the same size and shape as this cove. And that’s the lighthouse promontory. Opal’s house would be just down there.” I point almost directly below us. “It’s absolutely identical to my home, only in reverse. A mirror image.”
He’s studying me keenly now. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious. And what about Ruby’s memory? She passed from mountains into mountains. The same mountains. No wonder the portal escaped her notice. One location probably looked identical to the other.”
“A mirror world,” Ethan muses. “Is it possible?”
“If it’s true, Brunay is far, far bigger than Ruby imagined. She thought she was in a geographical area within North America. This explains why she was so confused.”
We stand on the edge of the cliff for several more minutes, surveying the complex below and letting the new idea penetrate our minds. Ethan processes it more quickly than I do.
“You still have Caedmon’s equipment?”
I check my pocket. “I’ve got it.”
“Set it up here, where we can put video on those buildings. I want to find out everything we can. From this height, it should beam the signal right back at the portal.”
The apparatus is a small weatherproof box about the size of a plum, solar powered and packing the energy of a small laboratory. It takes only three minutes to mount it to a tree and another few to sync it to the receiver we’ll plant on the other side of the portal. Then we sync our holobands to the receiver.
“We’ve got to start back, Ethan.” The sun strikes the cliff at a low angle, casting long shadows behind us. I don’t want to meet any strangers in a dark woods.
“Almost ready,” Ethan says, adjusting the video image. “That should teach us a few things about this place.”
I glance at the image on the tiny monitor, and a symbol painted on the side of the compound’s wall catches my eye. I focus on it more intently. “Ethan, I’ve seen that before.”
“Seen what?”
“That black symbol. Can you zoom in on it?”
“Hold on. I’ll bring it up on my holoband.”
In half a minute, I’m staring at two stalks of wheat, crossed at the bottom, with full heads of kernels. “That’s it. That’s the symbol I saw in Ruby’s memory scans. It was everywhere at the reproductive farm where she was held—et
ched on the glass in the medical wing, printed on stationary, and painted on the wall.”
“You think this is another farm?”
I twist my lip doubtfully. “It’s possible, but it looks too clinical. The Mountain View facility was beautiful and sprawling.”
“An office or laboratory, maybe,” he guesses.
“Whatever it is, it’s definitely related to the genetics program.”
“All the more reason to break in.”
We watch the compound for another five minutes before I remember the sinking sun. “Ethan, we really have to go.”
He drags his eyes away. “All right. Lead on.”
After fifteen minutes of hard walking, we’re approaching the portal. We stayed on the ridge too long. Daylight has faded to twilight, but here beneath the canopy it’s far darker. Apprehension is just starting to seize me when I catch a faint blue shimmer through the trees. I let out a slow breath. “There it is.”
“Can you see anyone?”
“I can’t see much of anything.”
We creep down the slope, testing every footfall before shifting our weight. With twenty yards to go, I see the silhouette of a very tall, very broad man pass in front of the portal’s light. I stop Ethan with a firm grip. “Bruel,” I whisper against his ear.
We sidestep a few paces and crouch behind a fallen log, our eyes and ears open wide. A few minutes later, we hear the snap of the Bruel’s footstep, confirming what I have seen. He seems to be guarding the portal, but quite nonchalantly if he’s strolling about the area. I imagine the portal is an unpopular station, with its inactivity, remote location, and bugs. In the last five minutes, I’ve noticed that this place has just as many mosquitoes as home.
“What do we do?” I breathe.
“Wait.”
I tuck down on my knees and shield the clock on my holoband. It’s keeping perfect Earth time. Opal and the kids will be eating supper soon. My heart sinks. I had secretly hoped we might make it back. Well, the portal was unguarded before. Maybe this fellow will just make a cursory check of the area and be on his way.
My legs soon go numb and I’m forced to change position, sinking to my rear on the forest floor. The ache in my head hasn’t worn itself out yet, and the mosquitoes drive me to distraction. I can hear the Bruel slapping at them too. I imagine the garbled language I hear contains a good deal of profanity.
By now the daylight has faded completely. I catch glimpses of purple sky through the canopy, but here beneath the trees the blackness is complete. If this world has a moon, it has not made an appearance.
An hour passes in silence. Ethan and I shift periodically, keeping our legs from stiffening in case we need to move suddenly. He’s still on full alert, but even with danger so near, my focus wavers. With another glance at the time, my thoughts drift to the cabin on the fringe of Settlement 56. Right about now, Ollie will be helping with dishes as Tillman and Hoke haul in tomorrow’s water and firewood. Homework will appear on the cleared table while Opal darns socks or strings apple rings to dry by the fire. It’s a familiar and comfortable image, one I slip into easily, wishing I could be there among them to share the evening. Even though I am probably farther away from them than I have ever been, they feel close, just through that shimmering light.
Two hours and no change at the portal. I begin to worry that we will never get back. That we’ll be stuck in this strange place forever. We have our firearms, but we can’t use them. The Bruelim can’t know we’re here. They cannot learn we’ve discovered the portal.
Another full hour passes before I sense Ethan tensing beside me. He lays a warning hand on my knee, then I hear it too. Footsteps crunching on the gravel path with no effort to silence them.
Another guard.
A voice calls out and confirms my guess. I see the first Bruel pass in front of the portal in the direction of the newcomer. He returns the greeting. I can’t understand what they say, but their manner is casual, their tone friendly.
Ethan’s touch comes again. I ease to my feet, and together we creep toward the portal. We’re almost there when I realize that as soon as we pass in front of the light, our silhouettes will appear as clearly to the Bruelim as the guard’s did to me. We need to wait till their backs are turned, but with absolutely no light, how can we judge our moment?
I lead Ethan to the side of the portal. I can still hear the Bruelim conversing several yards away. I bend down and feel along the ground for a fragment of shale. My hand bumps Ethan’s and I smile. He’s had the same idea. “I’ve got one,” he whispers. “Get ready.”
He lobs the rock gently over their heads and down the slope. It clatters through the trees and drops to the ground. Instinctively my head turns in the direction of the sound.
Ethan grabs my arm. “Go!”
I dive through the portal with my partner right behind me. Bright light pierces my eyeballs and something grabs my foot. I land on the forest floor with a grunt and cower there, waiting for thick, cruel hands to drag me away.
“Get up,” Ethan says with a laugh, catching my elbow and tugging. “You tripped over the branch you laid in front of the portal.”
I uncover my eyes. The light is not coming from a guard’s searchlight but from the setting sun. Earth’s sun. I’ve landed back in the cemetery where the twilight glares like noon after the blackness we have just left. I let Ethan pull me to my feet.
“You didn’t break the receiver, did you?”
I pull it from my pocket. It still works perfectly, catching the signal beamed in from another world and relaying it directly to our holobands. We mount it to a nearby tree, then I lead Ethan back to Opal’s house, my heart overflowing with thankfulness for the comforting feel of home beneath my feet.
Instinctively, my footsteps route us past the Meeting Tree. Ethan whistles when he sees it. The landmark is so familiar to me that I don’t really think about its size anymore, but it’s ginormous, the largest tree in this part of the forest. “Is this a sycamore?”
I nod.
“I’ve never seen one this large.”
Will and I once tried to encircle it with our arms. Together, we didn’t even reach halfway.
Ethan walks around it in wonder, then his eyes fasten on the initials Will and I carved in the bark. By the way he stares at them, I’m pretty sure he’s worked out whose they are.
“Come on,” I say, drawing him away. “Let’s crash at Opal’s and call a ride in the morning. I’m exhausted.” My head still aches, and the tension of the last three hours has completely sapped my strength.
It’s not much farther to the cabin. This time, we creep up the porch steps so we don’t awaken any children already in bed. As I ease the door open, Ollie’s eyes meet mine over the books spread across the kitchen table. They’re bright, startled, catching the radiance of the fire. “Jack?” She topples a chair in a mad dash to fling her arms around my middle.
So much for a quiet entry.
I squeeze my sister tight. “Hi, Ollie. Are the others already in bed?”
She nods. “What are you doing here?”
“Opal didn’t tell you I came for lunch?”
“She didn’t say a word.”
“I told her I didn’t know if we could make it back tonight. I’m sure she didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
She shoots a glance at Ethan, her eyes curious but reserved.
“This is Ethan Alston, my partner,” I tell her. “Ethan, my sister, Olive.”
Ethan smiles and holds out his hand. “A pleasure.”
She shakes it, but her eyes don’t lose their caution. I know the problem. He is not Will.
“Ethan and I were sent here to do a specific job today, but we’re finished. Is there any dinner left?”
She nods. “Beef and vegetable soup, but it’s probably cold.” She lifts a cast iron pot and hangs it from a hook above the fire. “There’s bread and jam on the sideboard.”
I cut two pieces, hand one to Ethan, and pop half of mine in
to my mouth before I open the jam jar. Then I spoon a glob onto my other half and pass the jar to Ethan.
“Oh wow,” Ethan mumbles after his first bite. “I didn’t know bread could taste this good.”
“Better than acorn cakes?”
He chokes on a laugh.
Ollie still watches us, her eyes flicking from one to the other. “Are you going to be able to come home more often now, Jack?”
“I don’t know, Ollie. I hope so.”
Opal’s door opens and she thrusts her head out. “I thought I heard visitors.” She smiles. “You made it back. Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I answer.
“Well, you’re not leaving here before morning. Let me make a bed up for Ethan on the sofa.”
“You needn’t bother, Opal,” he objects. “Just give me a blanket and I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense.” She refuses to go back to bed until the two of us are fed and tucked in proper. I retire willingly, snuggled up beside my sister, but I can see the glow from Ethan’s holoband through the cracks around the door. He’ll probably be up half the night working.
I want to talk to Ollie. I want to ask about school and catch up on all the little family details I have missed, but my head hurts so much that I’m not very good company. I fall asleep after only a few whispered exchanges.
When I wake up, the pain has receded somewhat. Ollie’s still sleeping, but I hear the boys in the living room. A peek out my door shows them shoulder to shoulder, peering down at my partner. Ethan only pretends to sleep, I’m certain of it. He has soldier’s instincts. No doubt he heard the boys climb down from the loft, but he’s faking to put off their meeting until I’m present to assist. I wonder if he has younger siblings. I’ve never asked. But instead of intervening, I watch the scene play out.
“Who is he?” Hoke whispers loudly.
Tillman shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“He’s got big muscles,” Hoke says.
I cover my mouth to hold in a giggle.
“Just like Will,” Hoke adds.
“Nah, Will’s bigger,” Tillman counters. “His feet hang off the couch farther.”
Okay, time to intervene.
Recompense (Recompense, book 1) Page 26