Mission Multiverse

by Rebecca Caprara

  “I’m going back,” Tessa said stubbornly. She and the child shared something, some sort of bond built through sound and song. Despite the cadets’ protests, she turned and ran.

  As she neared the greenroom, a deep boom reverberated through the hall. The floor shook. A fiery blast burst from the open door. The force of the explosion knocked Tessa backward, throwing her off her feet and onto the ground. She lay there, stunned and barely conscious, her nose continuing to bleed.

  A siren wailed. The cadets scrambled toward Tessa, dragging her to safety, far away from the intense, searing heat. A few seconds later, a deluge of water gushed like a waterfall from a massive overhead sprinkler. The roaring fire hissed and smoked, eventually dying out.

  Maeve knelt down and gently wiped water and blood from Tessa’s face. “What were you thinking, Zoey?”

  “I’m not Zoey,” Tessa murmured, drifting in and out of consciousness. “I’m Tessa.”

  “Uh-oh. This is bad. She hit her head really hard,” Maeve said. “She thinks she’s Tessa.”

  “Actually … She’s telling the truth,” Dev said, coming to her side.

  Tessa slowly sat up, her ears ringing and her muscles aching a little. “It’s true. I should have told you all sooner.” She dabbed her sleeve to her nose, which had thankfully stopped bleeding. “I’m not Zoey. I’m Tessa. We switched places for the day.”

  Maeve gawked, feeling all kinds of confused.

  “Say whaat? A clothes-swap prank? That’s epic!” Lewis laughed. “A maneuver only identical twins could pull off. Nicely done.” He offered a fist bump, which she returned weakly.

  “Zoey and I got into a fight this morning and I dared her to trade places with me. I didn’t think she could last an hour in my shoes.”

  “Well, you do wear ridiculous shoes,” Maeve pointed out, thinking about the spiky-toed booties and platform wedges Tessa typically wore.

  Normally, Tessa would take offense to a comment about her wardrobe, but instead she just laughed. “Let me tell you, I’ve never been as grateful for practical footwear as I was today, especially while running from imploding greenrooms and self-destructing walkways.”

  “I can’t believe you lied to us all day,” Maeve said, still processing the information.

  “I shouldn’t have. I’m really sorry. I wanted to say something, but everything happened so fast.” Tessa studied the floor tiles. “And I wasn’t sure you’d like the real me.”

  Maeve looked Tessa up and down with new eyes. She was irked by the deception but even more irked that she hadn’t picked up on it. Zoey used to be her best friend: how could she have missed something like this? “I did think it was odd you didn’t play your clarinet once.”

  “I can’t play. I was terrified the council was going to make me perform on the spot and find out I was an imposter. You saw what they did to that Oolg! You heard Ira say that they take honesty super seriously. I was afraid.” She bit her lip. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Maeve reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. Just don’t lie to us again.”

  “I won’t. I promise. And I apologize if I acted weirdly to any of you. I wasn’t always sure how the real Zoey would react in some of the situations we’ve been through today.”

  “For the record,” Isaiah said, chiming in. “I knew all along.”

  The others swiveled around. “You did?”

  He shrugged. “The makeup and bracelet gave you away. The real Zoey never wears jewelry. Or mascara.”

  “You’re right.” Tessa lifted up the silver cuff bracelet on her left wrist, the one that hid her scars. “I fell off a tractor when I was little. The scar from my surgery is so ugly. I hide it with this.”

  “It doesn’t look that bad to me,” Lewis said. “It’s actually sort of badass.”

  She laughed.

  “And the real Zoey despises anything pineapple flavored. When you ate those gummies, I knew something was up,” Dev said, glad to finally get the information off his chest.

  Tessa nodded. It was true. She had slipped up with the candy, too. She supposed this meant Zoey won the bet.

  “Wait, you both knew about this?” Maeve balled up her hands into fists. She hated being the last to know things.

  Tessa gave Maeve a friendly smile. “Listen, I’m sorry. I really am. If it’s any consolation, in spite of the near-death parts of the day, I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you all. I can totally see why my sister loves her fellow band geeks.”

  Dev’s face flushed bright red. “She said she loves us?”

  Tessa laughed. “You know what I mean!”

  “Speaking of near death …” Isaiah got up and stepped hesitantly toward the charred doorway. All that remained of the emerald couches and tables was soot.

  The cadets gathered around and assessed the damage. Tessa felt as though a weight had been lifted after revealing her true identity, but her stomach twisted with worry. She hoped the shell child had escaped safely.

  “Oops. We did it again,” Lewis said with a resigned shrug.

  “Seriously, what the heck happened in there?” Maeve said, eyeing the blackened room from a safe distance.

  “Zoey, er, I mean Tessa and that shell kid saved us from becoming toast,” Lewis replied.

  Isaiah nodded solemnly. “Burnt toast.”

  Ignatia’s horns pulsed with color, vermillion and furious. Slamming her fist on the onyx table, she rose from her seat. It was an elegant wingback chair, iridescent black and violet, tipped with emerald feathers and hooked claws. “Why were you in that room?” Ignatia demanded. “You were supposed to be in the sound lab!”

  The cadets were assembled in Ignatia’s private office now, which should have been less intimidating than appearing in front of the entire council, but the kids were uneasy, standing together in a clump in the center of the room with Shro and Quirg beside them.

  Ignatia’s voice was sharp. Behind her loomed an entire wall of books in a variety of sizes—some minuscule, some as big as refrigerators. A few were positively ancient looking with tattered leather spines; others new and shiny, clad in glinting metal dustjackets. A single, snaking vine studded with tongue-shaped purple leaves grew from a black ceramic pot on the floor. The plant wound its way up the walls toward the square of simulated sunlight on the ceiling that illuminated the otherwise dark chamber.

  “Shro led us there to practice,” Maeve said, pointing to the general.

  “It is true. And for that I am deeply, deeply sorry,” Shro said with a remorseful bow.

  Ignatia glowered. “Station Liminus is a state-of-the-art facility. You claim this was a heating malfunction? How is that possible?”

  “They did destroy an expertly engineered Transfer portal. I wouldn’t put this past them,” Quirg grumped.

  “Your Eminence, the biobots assessed the damage. It appears someone activated the incinerate feature on the room’s control panel,” Shro explained.

  Lewis smiled apologetically. “My bad.”

  “Never underestimate an Earthling’s capacity for destruction,” Quirg huffed.

  “Are any of you injured?” Ignatia asked, looking at the dried blood smeared beneath Tessa’s nose. She hadn’t had a chance to get cleaned up before Quirg whisked them away to Ignatia’s chambers.

  Maeve shook her head. “No, thankfully. Just shaken up.”

  “And hungry,” Lewis added. Maeve glared at him. “What?” He shrugged. “I have a very active metabolism, okay?”

  None of them mentioned the shell child, though they were still concerned for her wellbeing and grateful for her warning.

  “Then how did you get that?” Ignatia asked, pointing to Maeve’s arm.

  She hadn’t realized that the sleeve of her suit had torn when they scrambled from the greenroom. Now her entire forearm was exposed, the bruises impossible to hide. Maeve’s face flushed dark red. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

  Ignatia pressed a button on her wristlet. “Duna!” she said, summoni
ng the young delegate. They entered a moment later, as though they had been waiting right outside the door.

  “Yes, Your Eminence?” they said politely.

  “Please escort the Earthlings to a suite within the diplomatic quarters. And make sure they receive a proper meal.”

  Shro’s expression hardened. “What about the sound studies? The lab is ready now. I prepared all the equipment.”

  Ignatia shook her head, her swirling silver braids softening the stern angles of her face. Isaiah studied her, sensing a glimmer of remorse in her eyes. She had overseen the vote to release them a few hours earlier; he hoped she did feel sorry.

  “These Earthlings have endured enough for one day,” Ignatia said. “Keep in mind, they are delicate creatures, not as hardy or robust as Vermaskians or Izoxis. Therefore, I think they deserve some time to rest and recuperate. We will reconvene the musical explorations tomorrow morning.”

  36

  EARTH

  Zoey fiddled with her watch and sent a text message.

  Hey, Nolan. It’s Zoey.

  Just wanted to let you know that I have your tuba.

  I can bring it to school on Monday.

  Unless you need it over the weekend.

  My tuba?

  Yeah, that big ol’ horn you play in marching

  band.

  Remember?

  I know what a tuba is, Zo.

  But you don’t have mine.

  I brought my tuba back from practice.

  It’s in my living room.

  I’m looking at it right now.

  In fact, my mom is bugging me to practice.

  Zoey eyed the case on her bedroom floor suspiciously. Gage had said he’d stolen Nolan’s tuba. And Nolan was the only tuba player who went on today’s field trip. So what was inside that case?

  Yo? Zo? You still there?

  Yeah, sorry. Never mind.

  I was just joking around.

  You feeling okay?

  Yeah, why?

  Idk. You seemed … off today.

  During the field trip.

  I did?

  Just quieter than usual, I guess.

  I’m fine, Nolan.

  But thanks for checking in.

  See you Monday.

  Okay, see ya.

  Have fun playing that mystery tuba …

  37

  STATION LIMINUS

  Duna led the cadets through Station Liminus to their accommodations.

  “One minute we’re total rejects, and the next minute we’re like celebrities,” Lewis mused, giving a goofy Mr. America wave to the crowd of onlookers who peeked out from labs and offices as they passed. “Man, fame is a wild ride.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it fame, but today has been quite a roller-coaster,” Maeve said, rubbing her hands absentmindedly over her bruised forearm. She was grateful none of her bandmates had asked her about it yet.

  As they passed Gate Hall, Dev spotted a team of biobots and humanoid supervisors in bright yellow jumpsuits trying to repair the portal they’d damaged on arrival. Sparks flew as the welders attempted to fuse the broken doorway.

  “Yikes, we really did a number on that portal,” Lewis muttered guiltily, following Dev’s gaze.

  Duna paused. “Do not feel so bad. You’re not the only ones who have encountered challenges with entry and exit procedures.”

  “We’re not? Because that Quirg guy seemed pretty mad at us.”

  Duna sighed. “Quirg can be a curmudgeon. He and his staff do their best to secure and monitor each doorway, but occasionally they break or glitch out on their own. Dimensional membranes are dynamic and unpredictable. Sometimes creatures wander through with little warning.”

  “When you say creatures, what do you mean exactly?” Tessa asked.

  “We once had a rare permadon, a flock of downy pif-fells, and even carnivorous rakoomas. Those caused quite a scene. Just last week, a large black-and-white mammalian quadruped entered the Station. Apparently, it had a sack full of venom and made a very frightening call.”

  “Yikes,” Tessa said, inching away from the entrance to Gate Hall.

  “If you’re interested in wildlife, we can take a slight detour and stop by the Menagerie on our way to your suite. It houses some of the multiverse’s most fascinating animal life, rehabilitating and protecting many endangered species. It’s a fairly new initiative here at the Station, but one I hope will continue to expand. And directly across from that is our Arboretum, which supports an astounding plethora of flora, fungi, and more. Plants are cultivated, hybridized, and studied for agricultural and biomedical uses, as well as to stock the MV seed bank. I’d be glad to show you.”

  “That would be awesome. Thanks, Duna,” Tessa said, drawn to Duna’s warmth and inquisitive spirit. She liked that they didn’t hide their genuine interest and enthusiasm for the world. Until recently, Tessa had always regulated her reactions to things, worried she might come off as too nerdy or weird. She dreaded being judged or ridiculed by Blake, Gage, and the other popular kids. All she wanted was to be liked by them, to be one of them. But she was starting to feel like she was drifting from those feelings and those friendships.

  “Duna,” she said, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Yes, Zoey?” They smiled, their russet eyes bright.

  She sighed. “That’s just it. I’m not Zoey, like I told you earlier. My name is actually Tessa. Zoey and I look identical.”

  “She is your dimensional doppelgänger, then?” Duna asked, not quite following.

  “Sort of. She’s my twin sister. We switched places for the day and swapped clothes. She’s stuck back on Earth.”

  Duna looked perplexed. “Is this a common Earthling game? The clothes-swap?”

  “No.” Tessa shrugged, still feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. “It was definitely a one-time switch. I’m a lot happier just being me.”

  “As you should be,” they said. “The multiverse is full of parallels, mirrors, and doppelgängers, but there is only one true you.”

  Tessa nodded gratefully. “My sister and I, we drive each other crazy, but I love her. And right now, I really miss her.” Tessa looked down at her smartwatch, wishing she could get in touch with Zoey. Even just to send a goofy meme or string of ridiculous emojis. “She should be here instead of me. She would handle all of this so much better.”

  Duna shook their head. “Remember what I said earlier? About fate, about th’ahnai? Keep that in mind, Tessa. Perhaps there is a reason you are both where you are.” They paused. “I, for one, am glad you are here.”

  “Thanks,” Tessa replied softly, surprised that she was starting to feel the same.

  38

  STATION LIMINUS

  As the cadets explored the Arboretum and Menagerie with Duna, Dev thought of his family with a pang of sadness. As a botanist in search of the latest drought-resistant crops, his mother would love to see all the incredible plants on display in here. His father would go crazy for the innovative technology throughout the Station.

  And Sejal would giggle and clap for the Menagerie’s cuddly bear-monkey-marsupials called poleers and the tiny pink unicorn lizards called kikews. The massive megaphantes looked uncannily like the woolly mammoths that had gone extinct on Earth long ago, but these had three golden tusks. He couldn’t wait to tell his family all about the things he was seeing as soon as he returned home. If he returned home, that was. His chest tightened with worry.

  After their tour, the cadets arrived at their suite and were delighted to find that it was a whole lot nicer than the holding cell they’d been stuck in before. It was spacious with a cozy lounge, five private bedrooms, and a spa-like bathroom. The main room was illuminated by stalactite chandeliers coated in glowing lichens. The floor was made of swirling, deep green malachite tiles. Abstract digital art adorned the walls.

  “Wow. Aside from the whole nearly-getting-blown-up thing, this is the life!” Maeve said, flopping onto an asymmetrically shap
ed sofa, sinking into the delicious softness of the overstuffed cushions.

  “I’m glad you find it agreeable,” Duna said. “There is an entertainment system with several streaming holovid channels, as well as our top gaming platforms. I highly recommend AstroBlastersVII, but good luck passing level eight. The big boss is unstoppable.” Duna grinned. Even though they were a high-powered dimensional delegate, they were still a kid at heart.

  “Alien video games? Whaaat?” Lewis could hardly believe his eyes. He picked up a controller and clutched it lovingly to his chest.

  “Each room has a cumulo-bunk.” Duna opened one of the doors, revealing a bed that was actually made from a cloud. It floated like a huge, puffy cotton ball in the center of the room. A neatly folded set of pajamas was stacked inside a dresser made entirely of clear glass, and assorted day clothes hung in the mirrored closet.

  “Is this for real?” Tessa asked, incredulous. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into the cumulo-bunk. The plush, white mist was softer than kitten fur and moved to fit every contour of her body. “I could get used to this.”

  A bell dinged. “Ah, your food has arrived! The secretary has ordered a special meal for you, featuring signature dishes from several of our delegate dimensions.”

  “Room service!” Lewis said, doing a happy dance. “Fancy!”

  Duna crossed the suite and opened the main doors. Tessa hopped down and followed the others, her mouth watering.

  Servers entered, wearing shiny uniforms and funny tufted hats. They wheeled in large catering carts loaded with cloche-covered platters. The servers arranged the feast on a round table in the suite’s dining room while Duna described the dishes and the unusual ingredients used in each one.

  As they lifted the bronze cloches, aromas both familiar and strange filled the air. One platter was piled high with dumplings, each filled with brightly colored vegetables and fragrant spices. Another revealed a crock of burbling fuchsia soup with crackled soy cubes for dipping. There was a roasted suckling firduck with a honeybalm glaze, sticky buns sprinkled with black salt crystals, and a platter of writhing blue tentacles.