Mission Multiverse

by Rebecca Caprara

  Before they could continue, a deep, muffled sound—like a distant explosion—boomed. The bass reverberated in their chests. The metal walls groaned.

  “Is that part of the demo?” Tessa asked before a violent jolt knocked her off her feet. The floor shook, juddering and grinding. The room plunged into darkness. A second later, the emergency lights flared on.

  “Everything’s fine,” Dr. Khatri managed to say, just before the Zero-Grav regulators glitched out, lifting the kids a few inches off the ground, then slamming them back down. Up, and down again.

  “Dad! Make it stop!” Dev cried.

  “Grab on to something!” Dr. Khatri shouted, suspended in a semi-weightless state, clawing his way toward the control panel. He flipped open a small plexiglass box and pressed a red override button. Gravity was restored, and the vibrations stopped. The kids dropped in a heap onto the floor. Lewis tumbled into Tessa.

  “Sorry!” Lewis said, standing and offering Tessa his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, blushing.

  Dev watched, a twinge of jealousy twisting his stomach.

  “Anyone injured?” Dr. Khatri asked, helping the others to their feet. Aside from minor bruising and frayed nerves, everybody was intact.

  “What happened? Was that a quiver, or something else?” Dev asked.

  “I’m not sure,” his father replied, brows furrowed. “This structure’s foundation is built on pendu-rollers, which minimize the impact of seismic activity. Standard quivers don’t typically impact our top-priority labs. Whatever just occurred was more intense than anything I’ve felt in here before.” He rebooted a computer and studied the data pouring across the screen.

  Just then, a blue light pulsed on the control panel, followed by a high-pitched alarm.

  Bwoop! Bwoop!

  “What now?” Maeve yelled, covering her ears.

  Dr. Khatri picked up a headset. “Code Vero? Passcode nine-seven-H-four-B. Are you sure? How is that possible? Yes. Has the reactor been compromised? Good. And the samples in Omega Lab V? Any destabilization? Of course. I’ll be right there.” His tan skin paled.

  “Kids, I apologize. There’s been a … disruption … in one of our other laboratories. Until we understand the extent of the damage, all non-affected rooms must be secured. I’m hopeful this is just a false alarm, but I need to investigate.” He ran his hands nervously through his saltand-pepper hair, making it stand up wildly like Einstein’s. “I will retrieve you as soon as the situation is under control. Until then, Dev, I’m putting you in charge. Look out for your classmates.”

  “Dad! You’re leaving us here? Alone? With an antigravity simulator?” Dev sputtered.

  His father cringed. “Right! Can’t do that. No, no, no. Far too risky.” Dr. Khatri’s eyes darted back and forth. “This way. Hurry! You must shelter in place. Now!” Dr. Khatri rushed across the room and pushed a tall server unit aside, revealing a hidden door. “You’ll be safe in here until we figure out what’s going on.” He wrenched the door open and turned on the light. “If you get hungry or thirsty, there are snacks and beverages in your suits.” He was uncharacteristically harried as he shuffled the kids into the room.

  “Wait! What is going on?” Dev cried over the shrieking alarm.

  “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” The door shut. His father was gone.

  Dev yanked the handle. “We’re locked in.”

  14

  EARTH

  Dev wasn’t sure what was scarier, the wailing siren in the simulator or the eerie quiet of the soundproof room they were stuck inside now. What if something happened to his dad? What if a full-blown earthquake had struck? Were his mom and Sejal safe? Dev banged the door with his fist. Would anyone be able to hear them call for help?

  “Where are we?” Tessa asked, her voice quiet and unsteady.

  “Looks like some old equipment repair area,” Maeve said, poking around.

  The room was small and cramped, loaded with boxes and rusting tools. A single dim fluorescent bulb hummed. Tessa prayed it wouldn’t go out. Claustrophobia was making it hard to breathe. “Is there enough air in here?” she asked, tugging the collar of her suit.

  “I think there’s more space this way.” Lewis moved a wooden crate aside, clearing a path. The others followed.

  “For a guy who studies catastrophes and chaos theory for a living, your dad seemed pretty freaked out,” Maeve said, gingerly stepping over broken machine parts.

  “I know,” said Dev. “I hope everything is okay.”

  “Me too. I want to get out of here as soon as possible,” said Tessa.

  “What did your dad mean when he said there’s food and drinks in our suits?” Lewis asked, padding his hands across his chest, looking for hidden snack pockets.

  “I don’t have a clue. But we’ve got more pressing things to worry about right now. Shhh! Listen.”

  Behind a wall of boxes, they heard a scraping sound, a sharp tick, rustling.

  “What is that?” Tessa whispered.

  “Someone, or something, is in here with us,” Maeve said, her voice barely audible. “I’m going to investigate.” She lifted her chin bravely. Before anyone could convince her otherwise, Maeve slipped around the corner. She yanked a cord, flooding the room with light.

  “AHHHH!” A boy with spiky black hair leaped back.

  Maeve squinted. “Isaiah?”

  “What are you doing in here?” he sputtered, his heart pounding.

  “We could ask you the same question,” Maeve said, not missing a beat. The other kids stepped into the light.

  Isaiah gave a shy wave. “Hey, guys. I was just headed to the bathroom when an alarm went off. All these NASA dudes came charging down the hall in hazmat suits. I got spooked and ducked into the first room I could find.”

  Maeve didn’t buy his story. There was definitely something he wasn’t telling them.

  Lewis sidled up and flung his arm around Isaiah’s shoulder. “Well, looks like we’ve got the band back together again.”

  Isaiah inched away. “Hold on, what are you guys wearing?”

  Tessa tugged self-consciously on her silver-and-green mesh suit.

  “ Didn’t you hear? These are our new band uniforms. Cosmic, right?” Lewis gave a wiggle.

  “He’s joking,” Maeve said. “Dev’s dad let us try this antigravity simulator. Which was incredible. But right as we finished flying, the whole place went berserk. We didn’t have time to change before we got trapped in here.”

  “We’re not trapped,” Isaiah said. “I propped open the door.” He turned, just as the pencil rolled across the floor. “Scratch that. We’re doomed.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dev said, swiveling around. “This is the room where we stashed our instruments at the beginning of the field trip.”

  “It is?” said Isaiah, feigning surprise.

  “Look!” Dev pointed to the table in the corner. His saxophone, Maeve’s oboe, Lewis’s drumsticks, Zoey’s clarinet, and Isaiah’s trumpet were all there.

  “Sweet! I propose an impromptu jam session,” Lewis said, grabbing his sticks and tapping them on the table.

  Maeve shrugged. “I rarely agree with Lewis, but it’s not a bad idea. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in here? We need all the practice we can get before regionals.”

  “Fine, but this better not take too long. I have to pee,” Tessa said, angling for a way out of playing her sister’s instrument.

  “Technically speaking, the suit can accommodate that,” Dev replied.

  “What?”

  He pointed to a series of buttons running along the suit’s left sleeve, from shoulder to elbow. “It looks like you can activate built-in fluid absorbers that are basically high-tech space diapers.”

  Tessa made a disgusted face. “There is no way you are going to convince me to willingly pee my pants.”

  Dev immediately regretted the embarrassing blunder. Lewis examined his own suit. “What do you think this one
does?” He pushed a button with a hamburger symbol on it. Out of the sleeve popped a flattened, crinkly sustenance packet. Lewis tore it open and sniffed the contents. “It’s definitely not a burger, but it smells edible.” He took a taste. “Hmm, not bad. Sort of like freeze-dried soup flakes.” He emptied the rest of the packet into his mouth and licked his lips.

  “These are certainly an improvement over our band uniforms,” Maeve said, impressed. “Speaking of which, Zoey, did you talk to your sister about redesigning them?”

  Tessa bit her lip, confused. “Um, no. Remind me what that was about?”

  “Seriously? It was your idea!” Maeve shot her a frustrated look. “You were going to ask Tessa to spruce up the uniforms before regionals, since she’s really talented at design and has an eye for fashion. At least that’s what you said. But based on what she was wearing this morning, I’m not so sure.”

  “What? That ensemble was a total lewk!” She stopped short. “Er, I mean, yeah, it was a hot mess. And yes, she’s totally on board with redesigning the uniforms.”

  Maeve eyed her. “Something is up with you today.”

  “Sorry, I think that antigravity flight messed with my brain a little.” Tessa turned, worrying her face would give her true identity away. Truthfully, she was touched that her sister had advocated for her. Especially since Zoey usually teased her about her interest in fashion. But why hadn’t Zoey brought it up yet? Maybe she would have, if they hadn’t spent the morning bickering. She felt a stab of guilt. She would make things right tonight when she got home from the field trip.

  “So, where should we practice? It’s kind of cramped over here,” Isaiah said. If the others got distracted playing, maybe he could sneak back and check for more evidence of that strange symbol …

  “Let’s see if there’s more space over here.” Maeve led them toward the white panels in the far corner. She slid one aside. Behind it hung a thick black curtain. They ducked beneath it.

  “Check this out!” Lewis said, stepping into a glittering cylindrical structure. It was slightly larger than a minivan and open on both ends, lying lengthwise like a tunnel. Along one side, wide screens curved above what appeared to be a mixing console. Four flat circular discs were mounted to a narrow rectangular platform, like turntables. “It’s a DJ booth!”

  “Huh?” Dev stepped into the structure and inspected the walls flanked with metal scales and laced with thick bundles of colored cables. “A DJ booth would be cool, but I think this might be the abandoned quantum-collider Ari mentioned.”

  “Abandoned, or hidden?” said Isaiah. “There’s no dust in here. Someone has been using this … thing. And fairly recently.” If he hadn’t left his journal on the bus, he definitely would have written this observation down.

  “He’s right.” Lewis ran a finger along the top of the console. “Not a speck of dust. Clean as a whistle.” A screen blinked on.

  “I don’t think we should touch anything. Especially you, Wynner. Remember Benni’s advice on the bus?” Maeve said.

  “But this is so rad! I bet the scientists come here to party after work. Look! There’s even a disco ball.” Overhead, a crystalline sphere rotated slowly.

  “DJ booth or not, the acoustics are surprisingly good,” Maeve said, after practicing a few notes on her oboe.

  Lewis ignored her advice and spun the circular discs with his fingertips, singing, “Chickity-check, one-two! Yeah, that’s right, I’m DJ Lewsy Lew. In the house, spinning tunes. All the way from NASA to Neptune!”

  A kaleidoscope of colored light pulsed from the crystal sphere as it began to rotate.

  “Aten-hut,” Maeve said, getting into the spirit and assuming her role as drum major. Normally, the others would have found this annoying, but in the moment, it was actually kind of fun. They grabbed their instruments and began to play. All except Tessa, who fiddled with her sister’s clarinet, pretending to clean it. She wasn’t about to give up her true identity now. As much as she wanted to win the bet with Zoey, she was also starting to enjoy the company of these band geeks. If she told them she’d been lying all this time, what would they think?

  “System activated.” No one heard the robotic voice over the peal of Lewis’s drum beat and the honk of Dev’s saxophone. “Commencing Transfer sequence …”

  15

  STATION LIMINUS

  “Portal AJC0517 located in Conroy, Ohio, has been activated,” Quirg announced to the delegates gathered in the diplomatic salon. “It appears the Earthling envoys are preparing for Transfer.”

  Ignatia nodded, her horns brightening to a vibrant yellow. “Good. That was faster than I expected. They are clearly motivated.”

  “If my planet was on the brink of destruction, I’d evacuate quickly too,” said Bo’lar.

  “Based on the bioscan feedback,” Quirg said, “the Transfer pod appears to contain five adolescent humans.”

  “Five? That can’t be right.” Shro looked perturbed. “Finto said his team had pre-selected seven adult humans. Best and brightest. Unparalleled skill sets.”

  “Perhaps the others didn’t make the final cut?” Xol said.

  “Or perhaps once they learned about the hazards of interdimensional travel, they aborted the mission. Crossing the Threshold is not for the faint of heart,” Governor Neel added.

  “Or stomach,” muttered Cirzin, who dreaded the trips between dimensions. Some species tolerated Transfer better than others. Unfortunately, tender-bellied Nharlites weren’t among them.

  “True. I doubt Earthlings travel well. They seem rather … mushy. So very … delicate.” Xol hissed, his thick beetle-like exoskeleton creaking as he shifted in his seat.

  Ignatia wrung her hands. “Yes, Councilor Finto did report feeling quite unwell following his return journey. I’m hopeful he will travel via the Luciana portal and meet his colleagues here at the Station, though I have not received an affirmative response.”

  She was unnerved by Finto’s lack of communication, but he was a rather odd little man. She wondered how and why the citizens of Earth had elected such a person to represent them. She kept this thought to herself; she did not wish to instill doubt or stoke further ire in her fellow delegates.

  “Shro, please notify the rest of the council of the Earthlings’ imminent arrival,” Ignatia said, regaining her focus. “Duna, you will be responsible for the Earthlings’ orientation. The Station can be an overwhelming place for new visitors.”

  “Of course.” Duna nodded. “I am grateful for the opportunity, Secretary Leapkeene.”

  Nestled in a duct high overhead, the Klapprothi child felt the voice vibrations. There was an eagerness, an excitement to the sound pattern. Something was about to happen. Good or bad, Virri couldn’t decide.

  16

  EARTH

  Riffing and jamming, the kids were lost in the joy and energy of the music. Lewis, carried away, started drumming his sticks wildly on three large cylinders that rumbled like timpani.

  “Lewis! Cut it out,” Maeve snapped.

  “No way, Mae! Can’t you see I’m in the groove? Dropping these beats!” A deep boom echoed through the room. A shiver of energy blew their hair back.

  Lewis’s hands stilled; everyone fell silent. With an ear-splitting zing! red lasers shot out from the crystal disco ball, forming a web of light like a cage around the kids.

  “Transfer: Initiated,” a robotic voice said. “Gate Materialization: Initiated.”

  “Uhhh … What’s happening?” Lewis asked, wide-eyed.

  “Destination: Station Liminus.”

  “No one move,” Dev said, his heart hammering his ribs.

  “Are you nuts? I’m getting out of here before this thing blows up.” Isaiah tried to exit the structure but the lasers formed an invisible, impenetrable force field. “I can see through it, but I can’t move through it!” He held his palms up, like a mime.

  “Get me out of here! I do not do well in confined spaces!” Tessa banged her good hand against the wall.

/>   “Dev, your dad works here. You must know how to deactivate this thing,” Isaiah said. “If you don’t, we’re totally—”

  “Don’t say it!” Maeve warned.

  Beads of sweat ran down Dev’s face. This was like stage fright, but worse. Everyone watching him, waiting to see what he would do. He bit his lip. “Maybe I can figure it out …”

  “I’ll help you. I’m an ace at video games,” Lewis said. “How different could this be?”

  He and Lewis started hitting buttons, their fingers flying across keys, looking for a power switch, an eject button, anything.

  “All of you, relax. I’m sure Dr. Khatri will be back soon. He’ll get us out of here. In the meantime, quit messing with technology you clearly don’t understand before you do more damage, okay?” Maeve was surprisingly calm. She’d been in much higher-stress situations at home. She knew when to sit tight and wait for the worst to be over.

  A high-pitched wail, like a kettle left to boil, ruptured the quiet. A floor valve opened, blasting them with frigid air. The crystal sphere began spinning faster and faster, glowing brighter and brighter, until the light burned and blinded their eyes. The five kids huddled together, shivering, covering their ears and squeezing their eyes shut. Tessa reached out instinctively and gripped the nearest hand, which happened to be Dev’s. For a fleeting moment, he forgot they were all probably about to die.

  The collider shuddered, chattering their teeth, shaking their bones. Intense pressure crushed and pulled them apart at the same time. Isaiah tucked his knees to his chest, feeling like his body was splitting into a million tiny pieces. When he looked down at his hands, he was terrified to see they were gone, fading and flashing in pixelated patches.

  Someone cried for help, but the deafening noise swallowed the words.

  Sparks flew; the walls buckled and warped. The collider’s circular opening flashed with scenes of gray stone walls, jagged ice-tipped mountains, lush green moss, and finally the cavernous, pitch black of a starless night.