“Who’s coming to help?” I ask. “I mean, I know it’s someone from a different world in a parallel dimension, but that’s not very specific.” It could be a creature made from Jell-O for all I know.
Jell-O would be cool, actually.
Mom keeps typing at a frantic pace. “A man.”
“Anything interesting? Scales? Extra eyes?”
“Really. You and your imagination.” Mom shakes her head. “It will be a large, older, and somewhat angry man with a slight disfigurement. His name is Cole.”
I turn the name over in my head. Cole. It feels familiar, like something from one of my dreams. Then again, that happens to me a lot.
Mom continues. “Cole is powerful enough that he can get Luci out of any difficulty.” She purses her lips as she types even faster. “Your sister may be involved in things even your friend the Scythe could never handle.”
All of a sudden, it’s make sense why Mom would waited for the chance to bringing in this level of help. On some level, it’s comforting that she’s had a plan this long, even if she couldn’t communicate it.
Mom types a few last lines and hits the Enter key. “And here we go!”
My pulse speeds. Lights blink on in the monoliths towers. The lab floor vibrates softly as a low hum fills the air. Mom clicks a few more keystrokes. “Do you see anything?”
A moment later, something changes in the center of floor between the monoliths. The old tile gleams like it’s made of glass. After that, it cracks. The effect looks like someone’s trying to punch their way through the floor from below. Perfect. The drift void is beginning, and there’s a formal name for this stage of its development.
“We have spiral frac,” I announce.
“Excellent. How large is the instance?”
“Filling up the entire floor between the monoliths.” In other words, larger than any spiral frac in recorded science. But the final drift void will need to be big if we want to hit a parallel universe. Current drift voids have only connected to remote parts of the same building. No one’s gone beyond that yet.
“Upping the power levels.” More clicks sounds from Mom’s keyboard.
The low hum intensifies. Small lights on the monoliths shine more brightly. The faint scent of ozone fills the air. The glass-like fractures on the floor begin to melt.
After that, they spin.
Between the monoliths, the floor’s checkerboard pattern transforms. The black and white tiles merge and swirl, reminding me of white paint being mixed into its black counterpart. I smile. The next stage is here.
“We’ve got an active vortex,” I announce.
When Mom speaks again, there’s no hiding the excitement in her voice. “More power coming your way.” There’s an ominous single click as she hits the Enter key.
The monoliths flare with even more energy. The low hum from these devices accelerates into a high-pitched mechanical screech. From the small lights on each monolith, thin beams of brightness cut through the air. The floor shakes more violently; the scent of ozone grows stronger.
The active vortex darkens. The swirl of energy accelerates until the floor collapses in on itself. What looks like a churning black hole descends, its depths partially illuminated by flickering lights from the monoliths.
The moment burns into my memory. Mom and I just created the largest drift void in history. A mixture of awe and joy zing through my nervous system.
It’s overwhelming.
Beautiful.
And most of all, dangerous.
My limbs tremble with excitement. “It’s here,” I announce. There’s no need to say what has arrived. The drift void.
“I’ve never seen one appear so quickly,” says Mom.
With those words, everything goes berserk.
Bolts of lightning shoot up from the drift void. My breath catches. How does anything escape a black hole? Then I remember. This isn’t a black hole. It’s a drift void. No one knows what properties it has in general, let alone at this size.
Better move quickly.
I cup my hand by my mouth. “Toss me the brush.”
Mom fiddles with the pocket on her lab coat. She only takes a moment, but the action seems to last for hours. At last, Mom pulls free the brush with Luci’s hair and tosses it toward me. Catching it, I quickly pull free a single white-blond strand.
A wall of fire erupts from the drift void. It’s both searingly hot and pitch dark in color.
Black fire. Did not see that coming.
I take a half step backward. The white bolts of lighting dance within the black fire. My breath catches. Whatever is happening here, I know two things.
One, it isn’t good.
Two, it’s getting worse.
I drop the lone blonde strand into the vortex. The black flame warms my skin, but it doesn’t burn. The moment Luci’s hair enters the drift void, all signs of fire and lightning instantly disappear.
A weight of worry seeps from my shoulders. The drift void no longer appears dangerous, and it’s accepted Luci’s DNA.
“It’s in,” I call.
“Good,” says Mom. “I’ll just shut down—”
Before Mom can finish, a fresh plume of black fire erupts from the drift void. This time, the flames lick against the ceiling. More lighting than ever before blasts through the dark fire. I fall backward onto my butt.
“Mom! Off! Now!”
When my mother speaks again, her voice has a frantic edge. “The system’s not responding.”
Across the entire lab, every monolith shakes and screeches. Beams of brightness slice out from all the tower seams. The monoliths look ready to burst, and not just the ones encircling the drift void. Every tower in the lab goes berserk. Waves of dark fire erupt, expanding out across the lab floor. My thoughts condense to one concept.
Save Mom.
I race over to my mother. Pulling Mom’s frail body to the floor, I cover her frame with my own. Black flames roll across us. Like before, the fire sears but doesn’t burn. Lightning strikes the lab from floor to ceiling. The monoliths rattle so violently, it’s clear they have only seconds before they burst apart.
“Mom, where are the power breakers?” I ask. Those are a series of switches that channel energy for the lab. I need to shut them off and fast. That’s the only way to stop the drift void.
“Far corner,” she replies.
Through the fire and smoke, I can make out the small gray metal box attached to the wall.
That’s it. The power breakers.
I rise up and take one step closer. Two. Flames erupt round me. Lighting bolts strike the floor nearby, tearing huge holes in the tiles.
Then it ends.
Perfect stillness follows.
No fire.
No lightning.
No sound.
Around us, the view of the lab turns into a series of what look like photographs. Left, right, front, back. I turn around but can no longer see anything but the dualities of things. My insides freeze over with shock as I realize what’s happening.
Everything is two-dimensional.
We’ve slipped into a different level of space-time.
This will definitely show up on Authority’s tracking systems. Based on how the government scans energy, this might even look like a nuclear blast went off in western Mass. No question what to do next.
Shut it all down.
“Stay put,” I call to Mom.
Stepping forward, I’m careful to keep on a direct route to the power breakers. There are no 360-degree views in two-dimensional space-time. If I deviate from this razor-thin path, I’ll lock onto another view … and lose all sight of my goal.
I can’t let that happen.
With careful movements, I march closer to the circuit breaker.
Ten feet away.
Five.
At last, the small metal box is before me. Whipping it open, I shut down every switch inside.
Life returns to three dimensions.
With it
, there comes fire and lightning.
A final plume of black flame engulfs the laboratory. All the monoliths explode with bursts of sparks. Bits of metal and plastic rain down on the floor. The scent of burned oil fills the air. I crouch down, cover my head, and flat-out panic.
What made me think this was a good idea?
A second later, the drift void vanishes. The monoliths stand as charred-out ruins. Smoke coils up from their blasted interiors. Broken glass vials litter the floor. I race back to Mom.
“Are you all right?”
Her blue eyes shine with pure joy. “Isn’t it exciting? We’re the first ones to visit the second dimension!”
“Yeah, it’s … great.”
“What’s wrong?”
I wave her off. “Nothing. Just the shock of discovery.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’re brilliant.”
Normally, I’d soak in that praise. This time, my thoughts race to a different place. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain the government will see this as a nuclear blast. They’ll follow up by checking the live satellite feed for this area. That will confirm there are no mushroom cloud or leveled buildings. At that point, the Authority should conclude it’s a system glitch. At least, that’s what they did ten years ago when a software upgrade gave them the same misread. If they follow a similar process, then a patrol will be sent to investigate within twenty-four hours.
I rake my fingers through my hair. But things have changed since ten years ago. Now the Lacerator has started hanging out in this area. Maybe the government will connect the dots and send in a patrol much faster. I tap my cheek and think things through. Bottom line? I give the Merciless two hours before they show up at our door. A science crime this big means we’ll be executed.
I need to make any sign of this disappear.
Damn. It’s time to ask Fritz for help. Again.
Chapter 13
Mom and I just slipped into the second dimension. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.
Who am I kidding? It’s mostly terrifying.
I check my smart watch. 8:00 am. There’s no time to find a secure spot to chat with Fritz. I glance over at Mom. She stands stock still, looking out over the ruined lab. If I chat with hologram-Fritz here, she’ll be fine. Mom doesn’t like that I work for the Scythe, but she won’t stop me, either.
Lifting my wrist, I type my emergency code into my smart watch. Come on, Fritz. I hit the dial button. Instantly, an alert flashes on the small screen.
CALLS BLOCKED.
I can’t say this is a surprise. It’s not like Fritz didn’t warn me that he was done using phone comms. Even so, I have other options. Using the tiny screen keypad, I send a text message to Happy Time Cleaning—that’s Fritz’s cover business.
Freelance 11 to HappyTimeCleaning: Need to talk. I have another emergency.
I stare at my smart watch like it’s Fritz’s face before me. All my emotion and focus pours into that little screen. At last, more text appears.
TYPING REPLY …
My shoulders loosen. Fritz is still taking my texts. This is good. All I need to do is get him to receive my hologram call. After that, we can fix this entire disaster. Fritz’s reply appears on the miniature screen.
HappyTimeCleaning to Freelance11: We talk face to face ONLY.
My insides twist with worry. That’s not the response I was hoping for. I peck out a quick response.
Freelance11 to HappyTimeCleaning: Please. I’m desperate.
This time, there’s no sign Fritz is writing a reply. Instead, another alert flashes on the watch face.
MESSAGES BLOCKED.
I stifle the urge to groan. Fritz won’t even take my texts. That means I have to haul my butt over to the Scythe’s lair, which is on the other side of Winter’s Run. If I race at full speed, I can get there in twenty minutes, tops. After that, I can cut another deal. Maybe Fritz wants a second magnetic enhancer.
Beside me, Mom wavers where she stands. “We’ve done well, Meimi. If Cole can help us, he’ll arrive soon.” A faraway look returns to her eyes. “Let’s head to the kitchen. Miss Edith should be here already.”
I wrap my arm around my mother’s shoulder. Her body feels so wispy next to mine. Already, her eyes are taking on that glazed look I know so well. Suddenly, I wish I’d asked her a million questions while she was clear-headed. Why does Mom feel so guilty about the lab accident with Dad? Are there any pictures of my father hidden somewhere? How did Mom find out Luci is still alive? Instead, Mom and I spent our time opening a drift void and flipping the factory into the second dimension.
Was it worth it?
I tilt my head, considering. Oh, yeah. That was totally worth it.
Working the drift with Mom is the best, pure and simple. Even if it does bring the Merciless down on our heads.
Helping to bolster Mom, I walk us both out of the laboratory and toward the kitchen. I’ll be honest. Some not-too-small part of me would love to leave right now, but when Mom’s like this, there’s no way she’ll get back safely on her own. Once I get her settled, I can rush off and meet Fritz.
We begin what should be a short walk to the front of the factory. The scientist part of my head knows that we’re moving along at a fairly good pace. Even so, it feels like it takes hours to shuffle our way across the factory floor. In my head, every tall vat of chemicals looms large as a mountain in our path. Each knot of pipes seems to tangle around our ankles like pricker vines.
Finally, we get close enough to the kitchen that I see Miss Edith through the opened door. She raises a chipped teacup in motion that I’ve seen so many times before. Without saying a word, she’s asking: do you want any?
I call across the factory floor. “No tea for me this morning, Miss Edith.”
“It’s not for you,” she counters.
“Mom doesn’t want any either.” I don’t need to ask my mother her opinion on this; Mom never drinks tea.
Finally, I guide Mom back to the kitchen door. Then I freeze.
“The tea is for your guest, Meimi.” After that, Miss Edith hands the cup to a young guy who leans against the countertop. He’s wearing black body armor.
Smiling, he takes the cup from Miss Edith’s hands. “Thank you.”
Beside me, Mom grips my hand so tightly, I’m sure she’ll leave a bruise.
“This is it,” Mom whispers. “He’s here. This is the visitor who’ll help us.”
In other words, here’s our alien.
Chapter 14
Wait, WHAT?
I blink extra-fast, not believing what I’m seeing. Then I scan the kitchen again.
The guy in black body armor is still there.
He looks about eighteen, tall and strong with military-style hair, a square jawline, and soulful brown eyes. Scientifically speaking, he’s handsome.
And familiar.
Where have I seem him before?
Our gazes lock. Parts of my soul twist. Energies shift. Connections form. I must be under major stress again, because I’m having that same illusion I did before with the Lacerator. A thin haze of blue particles forms around me. Mom and Miss Edith don’t seem to notice anything, but I swear, the boy catches the change right away.
Emptions whirl through me.
Once again, they aren’t mine.
Without knowing how, I’m certain these feelings come from this boy.
There’s the prickle of surprise.
A chill of awe.
The heat of desire.
My muscles freeze. How can this boy be feeling all these things about me? We don’t even know each other. Again, as with the Lacerator, images flicker through my mind. Last time, the Lacerator sent me pictures as a means of communication. This time, they aren’t pictures as much as rich experiences. I don’t know where these mental videos are coming from, just that they flash from one scene to the next.
Flash. It’s nighttime. This boy and I ride hoverbikes side by side high over a strange city. Lights blink
beneath us. We’re laughing.
Flash. He and I stand on a sandy landscape. Both of us hold swords. We’re back to back and ready for battle.
Flash. It’s an empty dance floor. An orchestra plays a slow tune. The boy wears a tuxedo; I’m in a black dress. We dance slowly, our arms wounds around each other, my head resting on his shoulder.
Before, what the Lacerator sent me were like fancy hieroglyphs—more an attempt at communication that anything else. Now, what I’m experiencing feels different.
Detailed.
Moving.
Real.
Shaking my head, I break the connection. The mist of blue particles disappears. This proves it. I have been under way too much stress lately. If I thought what happened with the Lacerator was bad, this is an entirely new level of stress-induced hallucination.
I actively ignore the little voice in my head that pleads this could also be real.
Whatever it is, I have bigger priorities. I simply must finalize this deal with Fritz.
Careful to avoid looking in the boy’s direction, I walk Mom over to her favorite chair. She slips into place. “Thank you so much for coming,” she says. “You look just like Cole.”
“He’s my father.” The boy stands and bows slightly in Mom’s direction. “Thorne Oxblood, at your service.”
Every nerve ending in my body goes on alert. That voice. The name. Thorne. It can’t be from my dreams, can it? Scanning my memories, I try to recall what else happened in those night visions. There was something about an omniverse. Other than that, the whole thing is a blur.
Stupid dreams.
Miss Edith takes another sip from her tea sup. “I like this one,” she says. “You can ignore that MacGregor boy.”
Thorne arches his brows. “MacGregor?”
“It’s nothing,” I say quickly. “Thanks for the tip, Miss Edith.”
After everything else that happened this morning, comments from Miss Edith shouldn’t make me blush. After all, who cares that this is a hot alien boy and Miss Edith is mentioning some guy I fake-married in second grade?
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