The Bewitched Box Set

by W. J. May

  After ten long minutes her hand started writing again. Going to access archives. Eric had crossed into the basement. Triggered alarms with his signature. No idea what has happened.

  “Can I go get him out?” Not that she was going to listen for his answers.

  “Yes!” she read aloud. “Wow, what a surprise he actually gave me permission.” She pondered a return to the other side. “Stylus? Will you remember this message in case I run into trouble from being in your world?”

  Yes. All data is stored and transmitted.

  “Yep. So, you are just like our computers. Only you use a pencil and paper instead of a keyboard. Cool.” She hopped up and grabbed a thicker sweater out of her closet. It was her one chance to pick up anything extra. She’d yet to use the supplies in her bag, as it was.

  The stylus in her hand started to vibrate. She raced over to the sketchbook.

  Not quite like your computers. We were people once.

  We were Louers.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  She choked and then choked again. “Did...did you say you used to be a Louer? As in you used to have a body and a mind?”

  Yes.

  “What happened?”

  Slavery. Given to a research lab where I was bonded to the stylus to support the old man who’d been bonded to it for centuries before me. The risks were high. So, slaves were used to keep the soulbound objects functioning. The old man was failing and the bond had weakened. I don’t know how, yet the next thing I knew, I was locked inside, joined as one with the previous souls. Soulbound.

  Heat flushed upward then drained in hurry, leaving ice behind. Soulbound. Not bound to her soul, but a soul inside, bound to it. She shifted the stylus, to hold it almost reverently as she stretched out the fingers on her right hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

  Her left hand jerked under the impulses of the stylus. She quickly moved it to her right hand and let the words pour.

  No. Most people don’t. I haven’t communicated with anyone in centuries. It feels odd. To feel anything is...unique.

  She winced. “A good odd or not so good?”

  A good odd. Rusty. Some of my capabilities are returning.

  “Is that good?” She wondered what the hell she’d released.

  Yes. There are many of us here. We have merged into one – the voice and mind of the same stylus. Each of us adds something, and the stylus grows in power. The older it is, the longer is has survived, the more of us are in here to keep it alive. The handler adds another element. In this case, you have increased our abilities tenfold. We thank you.

  She gulped. “You’re welcome. I think. I hope this is a good thing. Those people, Paxton, Eric and the others, aren’t really open to progress. Not sure they’ll appreciate this type of change.”

  No. Over time they will.

  On that note, she turned around and finished packing her bags. “So, Stylus, how can we transport into the basement where Eric is? There are no gates there. I’ve never seen the inside, so drawing a door into it is going to be impossible and possibly not a good idea. Suggestions?”

  The stylus was quiet. She laughed and picked it up off the bedding. Placing it on the sketchbook, she repeated, “I need a codex to travel around your world. Can we make one – is that possible?”

  Possible – not practical. There exist many in Paxton’s office.

  “Paxton. Right. I can get to the lab.” She pulled out the drawing she’d used with Eric the last time and ten minutes later she found herself back in the lab. And face to face with Paxton.

  She grinned at him.

  The color drained from his face. “What? How are you here?”

  She wiggled the stylus in his direction. “It hasn’t failed me yet. Are you aware that souls are bound to this stylus?” She watched him straighten. “Or should I say whose souls? These are Louers. They were normal people, whose only wrong was wanting a better life for themselves – not one of servitude. The Torans kept them as slaves, as prisoners.” Outrage stiffening her spine, she stalked toward him.

  “I know what we did,” he snapped. “I read the archives. That is ancient history. That we’re paying for it today is unacceptable. We didn’t force any of them to become bound to the stylus, they were volunteers. It offered them a chance to live forever. They were also well compensated for their sacrifice. We aren’t monsters, you know.”

  “Then why banishment to another dimension?” She couldn’t help feeling that something else must have been going on.

  “How would I know?” His voice rose. “I’m old, but not that old. It wasn’t during my lifetime.”

  She shook her head. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. “Where were you earlier, when Eric and I were looking for you?”

  He reared back. “I’ve been here all along.”

  With a shake of her finger, she said, “Nope, you weren’t, because we searched for you. Even at your apartment.”

  His eyes widened. A faint blush rose as he swallowed. “I was in my apartment until I heard intruders. I hid, then raced back to my lab.”

  Storey’s gaze widened in understanding. He’d been the one that had knocked over something in the living room. They’d just missed each other. It would be laughable if it weren’t so frustrating. She refocused. “I need a codex and training to use one.”

  He pulled himself up to his full height and raised his nose into the air. “Absolutely not. There is no way. It will kill you.”

  Storey pursed her lips. Instinct drove her to pull the small blank notepad out of her pocket and slip the stylus into her fingers. “Stylus, will wearing a codex kill me?” The words formed on the page instantly. She lifted the book to show Paxton while reading it aloud. “No.”

  It would have taken a better person than she was to hide her triumphant look. Her grin widened. “Didn’t know they could talk, did you?” She waggled the stylus in her fingers. “You don’t know the first thing about them, do you?”

  Paxton took a tentative step toward her, his eyes locked on the stylus. “How is it you have learned all of this in just a few days?”

  She couldn’t be sure, but he sounded slightly mollified instead of angry. She hadn’t wanted to rub this in his face. “Because I didn’t come at it with preconceived assumptions like you did.” She thought that was a reasonable answer. From the glacial look fired in her direction he didn’t agree. Adults and their egos. They made life so difficult.

  “So yes or no on the codex? I am willing to go and get Eric; however, I can’t get to him without a codex – unless you’d like to come to unlock the doors?”

  He shook his head widely, white tufts of hair flying in all directions. “No, no. I can’t leave. I’m needed here.”

  “Then you have no choice.” She held out her arm.

  “These aren’t toys. Extensive training is required to use these. You can’t just put one on and expect to be a pro.”

  “I don’t expect to. Show me the basics so I can get to Eric. We can use his codex from there. Can’t you sync one codex to find his codex?”

  Paxton’s brows drew together in surprise. “Yes. Yes, I can.” He busied himself at a desk piled high with metal pieces while she waited. She glanced down at the stylus and paper. “Do you know how to work the codex, Stylus?”

  Her hand jerked immediately. Much of it.

  “Good. Maybe, we’ll do well after all.”

  Paxton raced toward her. “Here’s a simpler version. We use these for visitors.” He strapped the smaller unit on her wrist while firing instructions on its functionality.

  She turned her arm slightly, admiring the look. “This is way cool.” And it was. She could use something like this on her own world. Not that he’d appreciate hearing that. Still, when this was over...nope, not going to happen, the FBI would never let her keep it.

  “Now pay attention. I’m punching in the identity code of Eric’s codex right now. As soon as I press this last button, you’re g
oing to arrive at his side. That could put you into many horrible scenarios. This codex can’t save you.” As if the force of his stare could infuse common sense into her, he upped the wattage and directed it into her eyes.

  She blinked and pulled back slightly. “No, but my brains and my stylus might.”

  He snorted. “And they might not. This is war. People are dying. You might, too.”

  That stopped her in her place. “I wanted to ask you about that. What is the population of your city here? Millions, thousands or only hundreds?”

  “Thousands here and millions over the planet. We don’t have your overpopulation problem.”

  “Thousands only? Are there children here?”

  Paxton reared back. “Of course. We have a natural order of things. Children here do not run amuck, like in your world.”

  “What’s the average life expectancy here?”

  His lips thinned. “We live much longer than you do. I don’t want your people coming over here and treating us as lab rats to find out our secrets.”

  Understandable. Yet it was okay for them to do that to her? Not that they’d said so to her. She shook her head. “That’s not my intention. What I was thinking about was that your people are extremely long lived, so death is an even greater loss here. With your peaceful life, you’re also not used to the trauma of war, of living in fear every day.”

  “And you are?”

  “Not personally, but I’ve been raised with the possibility of a terrorist attack any day. We learn to live well in spite of it. That doesn’t make us naive.”

  “My people are innocent.”

  “Good.” She smiled and headed to the spot Paxton pointed out. She tucked her stylus into her jeans pocket, grimacing down at her clothing. At home she’d grabbed a sweater, but why hadn’t she considered changing her jeans or socks and shoes? Too late now. She checked out her location and the circle she was standing in. “Here?”

  “Yes. There. Return as soon as you can – with Eric.”

  She nodded and pushed the button. Having traveled by codex before gave her some warning as to what to expect. It happened so quickly though, she didn’t have time to adjust. When the blackness cleared, she blinked and spun around.

  The room was empty.

  Surely not. Had the correct identity number been punched in? She had to believe in Paxton that much. Then where was Eric? She walked the small area, looking for some evidence that he’d been there.

  A desk and several chairs sat in the center of the room, undisturbed. She bent to look underneath.

  Something twinkled below. She pulled a chair back and reached for it.

  Eric’s codex.

  Oh shit. She stood up and spun around, looking for where Eric could have gone. There was no sign of a fight. No disruption to the room. Just plain...nothing.

  Weird. Where were the doors in this place? Hidden? Why was nothing ever easy on this side of the veil? She walked the room, dragging her fingers along the wall, looking for breaks to denote a door. There weren’t any. She stared up at the ceiling. Nothing visible. The floor? It was covered in a deep red flooring that sat like a cross between tile and carpet. Unique. She studied it, wondering if there was some kind of level below. Did basement mean the same thing here as it did back home? She wished she could ask Paxton. She brightened. She could. She pulled out her stylus and sketchbook, muttering to herself as she wrote the note, “Paxton, the room is empty. No doors or windows. Only a table and chairs in the center of the room. No sign of anyone. Eric has lost his codex. It was on the floor under the table.”

  She waited for the stylus to show signs of an answer from Paxton.

  Impatience gnawed at her. Finally her hand started moving. Move the table. Door is opened by knocking on it. Eric couldn’t have ‘lost’ the codex. He’s been taken and either had it cut off or removed it himself.

  Not good. She walked over to the table and turned it to the right. A smooth, sliding noise sounded behind her. She spun around to find a large door had shifted to the side. It hadn’t been discernible before. Hard to believe.

  Standing in the doorway, she realized there was only a dark black space beyond. Where were the damn light switches in this place? “Stylus, how do the lights turn on?” Even as she spoke the lights flashed on. Apparently they were voice controlled. She studied the long hallway now visible before her. A single closed door waited at the far end. She walked down and pushed it open. It led to another large room. This one was also empty. Not knowing what else to do, she returned to the room where she’d found his codex. “So, Stylus. Where is Eric?”

  She expected a quick answer. Instead she got a weird humming sound. What was that? It almost seemed like her stylus was thinking things over.

  I’m not registering him.

  “Uh oh?” She stared at the pen. “What does that mean?”

  It means I can’t see his energy signature anywhere.

  Her stomach knotted. “What? What does this mean?”

  He is no longer in this dimension.

  ***

  Eric tried to sit up. Bad idea. He gasped at the sledgehammer in his head. Bile from his stomach climbed up the back of his throat. Then he felt his bare arm. His codex was gone. He vaguely remembered being grabbed and putting up a crazy fight before taking a direct hit on the side of his head. He could have lost it then. Or they’d taken it. Whoever ‘they’ were. The loss of the codex could also contribute to the headache. He groaned softly. Brutal.

  “Eric? Are you awake?” A familiar voice spoke through the pounding in his brain.

  Eric tried to open his eyes. Pain forced them closed again. “I’m here,” he whispered to his father. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping you might know.”

  Peering through slit eyes, Eric saw his father squatting down in front of him. “What happened, sir?”

  Shifting to sit on his ample butt, his father said, “We had just finished the emergency Council meeting when the alarm sounded. Louers. Everywhere. Seemed like hundreds of them. I don’t know how or why. They overran us in minutes. At least I think they’re Louers. They look different, though. Not like they used to look.”

  “Different how? What did they used to look like?”

  His father peered around nervously, whispering, “Like us. Exactly like us.”

  What? Eric shot him a startled look. He didn’t ask the burning question he wanted to ask. Instead, he went for the one next in line. “What are they like now?” Moving gently, he struggled into a sitting position, heaving a sigh of relief when the room stopped spinning. The fear in his father’s voice made him look up.

  “Mutants. Deformed, weird looking things. Nothing normal about them now.”

  “That makes sense in a way. They’ve had to evolve to survive. Did you know what the place was like when your people banished them?”

  “No and I don’t care.” Sitting like a rotund Buddha, his father placed his hands on his knees and glared at Eric. “They’re killing anyone who resists and rounding up the survivors. We’ve been taken somewhere. I’m afraid it’s off planet.”

  That stopped Eric in the act of trying to stand up. “As in across the veil?” Just then the smell hit him. He bent over, plugging his nose. He groaned. “What’s that smell?”

  “Louers. We’re prisoners in the Louers’ dimension.”

  Nasty. Experimenting, Eric unplugged his nose and shuddered at the rank aroma. All the archives spoke about a horrible smell at the gate. Words hadn’t done it justice.

  He struggled past it to refocus on the mess they were in. From Storey’s history, he’d learned that every war sported winners and losers and the losers, historically, became prisoners. When able to cross dimensions, it wasn’t hard to imagine returning the prisoners to your home. Particularly if you needed slaves.

  “Are we being guarded? Has someone come to speak with you?”

  “No.” His father shook his head. “There’s been no one.”

  “Does an
yone have a codex?”

  His father leaned closer to whisper, “I do. I don’t know the coordinates to punch in.”

  Eric could take care of that. His father’s unit wouldn’t be strong enough to take everyone back at once. “Are they taking the codexes away?”

  “Don’t think so. We were herded forward as a group. Outside of giving us a quick check, they haven’t done a massive search. There’s one codex and even a couple of taprins,”

  “Good.” But not great. The simple taprins were basic codexes but wouldn’t have the power and functionality to help out here. There wasn’t a weapon amongst them. Why would there be? Until now, there’d been no need. “Slip me your codex. I can get out and back with reinforcements in no time.”

  His father glared. “Not without me. If you’re going, then so am I.”

  Eric grimaced. “It’s best if we all go at once. The guards could come any moment.” He studied their surroundings and the ragged group surrounding them. “How many of us are here, about twenty?”

  “Closer to thirty.”

  “Marshal the others into a group. I know where to go.” Eric accepted his father’s codex, clipped it on, then punched in the coordinates for Stanshor mine. That would get them clear of here, then they could jump to another point. The mine was better for a large group like this. Paxton’s lab could be the second jump. Not that it would help much unless it was secure.

  “We’ll try for the mine,” he whispered to the group gathered around him. “Everyone squeeze in as close together as possible and hang on. We’re trying to move a lot of people at once. I don’t know that I can take everyone in one jump.”

  “You’re not leaving me here,” blustered a big man in the back, shoving the others in closer.

  “Nor me.” That was a young woman holding a young child.

  “I ain’t staying. No way. Those things are going to come back and I want to be long gone.” An older man spoke, Eric vaguely remembered seeing him in the Council chambers.

  Eric understood their feelings. “Who else has a codex?”

  Two people held up their arms. “Darn.” They were both simple versions. “Okay. Let’s try.”