by RMGilmour
“Jordan,” I called. But he didn’t respond, and I realized that maybe announcing I was here was not the best thing to do, considering I had no idea who or what, I would be announcing my presence to.
I scanned the length of the mirror, left then right, as far as I could see in each direction, but I could not detect an end to the wall, and I decided I would just have to walk until I found one. There had to be a way in.
Choosing to go south, I started out at first walking, and then jogging beside the wall. But after what I was sure had been a couple of hours, I still had not seen any sign of anyone inside the city, nor any way to enter it. I picked up the pace and ran the length of the mirrored surface, but the daylight was beginning to fade. Finding shelter for the night was going to be a problem.
Out of breath, I stopped to examine the sky. Their sunset was very similar to ours and I anticipated seeing how different their evening stars would look, for it seemed I would be spending the night out of doors. I hoped it didn’t get too cold.
The darker the day became, the lighter the city inside shone behind the mirror, creating a rainbow effect in patches upon its surface. It was mesmerizing. But the brightness stayed behind the wall. And even in the gloom, the forest continued to reflect off the surface, as though it was permanently stamped upon it.
Before long, I saw movement within the city, and realized there were people inside. I tried calling out to them, but they seemed to neither hear me, nor see me. Not one of them looked my way, nor even acknowledged my presence in any way at all.
Though I didn’t want my new isolation to shake me. There had to be a good reason why Jordan would bring me to the outside of the city and not directly to him, but I didn’t want to speculate either. There were too many possibilities, most of which I wouldn’t even be able to guess at, and some of which I refused to entertain.
I continued walking south beside the wall, but soon began to doubt if there was even a doorway at all, and I wondered if perhaps I could just go straight through. I stretched out my hand to touch the wall, stepping slowly toward it, but the closer I got, the more it seemed as if it wasn’t a solid surface. It had depth, and appeared to be nothing more than thick air.
As my fingers neared the edge, a tingling began in my fingertips, and I paused. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. I moved my hand forward, slower this time and the wall closest to my fingers began to glow faintly gold. The tingling spread into my palm and began to travel up my arm. I took a step forward, but a strong hand grabbed my arm and shoved me backward. Thankfully, it was grass I fell upon and not the concrete of home.
“Are you crazy?” he growled.
“My therapist thinks so,” I mumbled as I looked up at him. Not Jordan. But I knew that the moment I heard his voice. I didn’t move from the ground. I didn’t know if I should stand and greet him, or be ready to run.
“Watch,” he said. He picked up a small stone and threw it at the mirror. A golden glow appeared the moment the stone made contact, but the stone didn’t continue through to the other side. For as the glow dissipated, so did the stone.
“Any closer and this thing would have absorbed you.”
That’s great! So, Jordan’s dangers were people-absorbing walls, and this big angry man who looked like he was straight out of the 1950’s with his short, swept back hair that didn’t want to stay in place. And who now just stood there, staring back at me. Only he wasn’t staring at my scars. He was looking at me, my eyes.
“Um, where am I?” I asked him.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“A little while ago, I was walking through the trees, and the next thing I knew I was having a heart attack and woke up… here.” I waved my hand around to indicate the general area.
“Heart attack,” he laughed. “Hmm, I guess it did feel that way.”
“Then, you know how it happened?”
He didn’t respond right away, but I could tell he was eager to say more than what would come out in one sentence.
“Do you remember speaking to someone previously about coming here? Someone you couldn’t see?”
“Yes, Jordan. He said he was going to try to bring me to him.”
“Welcome to Threa.”
“Three?”
“Threa. Name of this place.”
He held out his hand to me and smiled. At first, I wasn’t sure if I shouldn’t just run anyway, but he still hadn’t looked at my scars, hadn’t even mentioned them. I liked him for it. And he looked trustworthy enough, in a young Marlon Brando kind-of way. I rose my hand to him, and he gently helped me up.
“Sorry about pushing you,” he said, shaking my hand in a gentlemanly manner.
“It’s ok,” I responded. “Thank you, for saving me.”
“I’m Grid,” he smiled, not yet releasing me. His hand was warm, strong in mine. Human contact. Not Jordan, but felt good just the same.
“Grid,” I repeated, not sure if I’d heard right.
“Yes,” he laughed. “That’s generally the reaction I get. Or rather it was,” he ended in a frown. “Gerald actually. I played ball back home and got the nickname Grid. It stuck. Was easier than saying Gerald, cooler too,” and he smiled one of those big, broad smiles that reached his eyes, the sort of smile no one could say no to.
I smirked at him, releasing my hand from his. He had to be my age, or at least appeared to be so. Maybe this place kept everyone young, those in the city as well as those outside of it.
“Lydia,” I replied. “How long have you been here?”
“I’m not sure, I lost count. It was 1952 when I left.”
“Really,” I remarked, unsure if I should tell him what year it was when I left. I had no idea how he would react. And who knows what the contagions outside of the city had done to him. But then, I decided, he’d been here for over sixty years and he still looked ok.
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to torture it out of you?”
Not the best thing to say to someone who hadn’t spoken very much to another live human for a very long time, and my instinct to run pounded through my chest with a vengeance. But Jordan had softened me up as far as conversation went, and I pushed away the fear, hoping Grid was only kidding.
“Tell you what?”
He smacked his lips together and smirked. The sign of someone talking to a complete idiot, and I was obviously the idiot.
“What year is it?” he whispered.
“2014,” I whispered back.
His eyebrows tried to rise up into his hairline, and his eyelids flickered as though he was having a minor seizure.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure if I should reach out to him, or give him a moment to adjust, and I decided it best to leave him be.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that,” he laughed. “So, miss future girl, did we ever invent flying cars? Teleportation? Time travel?”
“Time travel no, that’s looking to be an impossibility. Teleportation, no, well, one scientist stated he teleported a red dot, at least I think it was a red dot, I’m not really sure what I was reading, and as for flying cars, yes. Although, they’re not the norm and there are only about a handful that have been invented, but it looks to be a real possibility in the near future. Well, maybe not my future…”
“Talk a lot when you’re nervous?”
“You asked, and no, actually I don’t.”
I had no idea why I said as much to him. He was a real person standing before me and for some reason I found it easy to talk to him. I was no doubt, still in shock.
“Why do you say time travel is impossible?”
I couldn’t answer his question. The only bases I had were the bits and pieces I’d read online, or seen on TV.
“We did,” he smiled. “We just went sideways, kind of. And…” he drawled, then stopped and stared down at me, narrowing his eyes in contemplation, clearly trying to decide if he should finish his sentence.
I swallowed
hard, not sure if I wanted to hear more. The idea of time traveling sideways as opposed to the forward and backward movement of past and future that I’d always known, made no sense. Time couldn’t move sideways. It was only a means of measuring ordered events. One does not simply pick up time and jump to the side from one clock face to another!
My heart beat double time, pounding against my ribs as I remembered where I was. Wasn’t that what I’d just done? I forced back a deep breath in an effort to slow my breathing before I hyperventilated. But Grid’s next words did not help much.
“And even though we are both from Earth, we may not even be from the same Earth.”
I held up my hand, urging him to stop and closed my eyes. I couldn’t take in anymore. I needed to visualize something before I could understand it, and the images were not even close to forming.
When he didn’t speak again, I peeked up at him, but he was only grinning back at me.
“What?”
“Just waiting for you to stick your fingers in your ears and start humming rather loud and off key.”
I had no response. It was exactly what I would have done if he’d continued. But he didn’t need to know that.
He looked about us then, and I followed his movement, wondering what he was looking for.
“It’s getting dark. We should probably head back.”
Of course. The light had already toned down to evening shades and the stars were starting to become visible; some patterns looked very much like home. I couldn’t point out more than half a dozen constellations, but I was sure that if I were to lay down upon the grass and stare up at the sky long enough, I could almost pretend I was home.
“Head back where?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from the sky.
“We should probably run,” he said, and scanned the area once more. He then reached for my hand and pulled me along behind him.
6
The Colony
We ran back through the trees and over a grassy field that could have been my field, but then slowed upon reaching a river. It was much wider than mine, with a pebbled incline toward the rushing water, and the other side of the river sloped up rather steeply. When he released my hand to climb, I slipped upon the slick grass, but Grid grabbed my hand once more, helping me up. Thankfully, the grass leveled off a short way up and was then met by a small, rocky cliffside, which we easily scaled.
Though once at the top, it was just a few, short steps down the other side to an expansive, flat surface that went on for miles. I couldn’t tell in the growing darkness, what the surface was made of, maybe more grass, but as far as I could see there was nowhere ‘inside’ that we could possibly get to.
I was about to muster up the courage to ask him once more where we were going, when he entered a narrow doorway I hadn’t initially seen, in the side of the cliff. He motioned for me to follow, and despite my hesitation, I didn’t see any other options present themselves to me in any obvious way.
I looked back over the cliff toward the river and the city. I didn’t want to lose my way back to Jordan. I had no way of knowing how to find him other than to find my way into the city, or if he could find me outside of it.
“He won’t come for you,” Grid said, standing half in the darkened doorway. “They never do.”
What he said stunned me. I wanted to ask why he would say such a thing, but the words wouldn’t make it out. I needed to run. Back to the wall. Back to the place where Jordan had brought me. He would come for me. He had to.
But I didn’t run. I was in a strange new world, and I was grateful that I was still breathing. Instead, I stepped up to the doorway, and silently followed him in.
He would come for me.
The doorway it turned out, was that and only that. A narrow hollowed out shelter, barely enough standing room for the two of us let alone sleeping room for the evening. I was about to ask what the point was of being there when the back wall fell away, revealing a set of carved stone stairs.
“Take my hand,” Grid said.
“Why?”
“Because it’s dark down these stairs, and I don’t want you to fall and break your neck,” he informed me matter-of-factly. He no doubt sensed my hesitation, then added with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, there’s light below.”
We both stepped into the room, but so far, I could see fairly well, and I didn’t think I would need his assistance, until the stone wall closed behind us, cutting off every spec of remaining light.
I stretched my left hand out to where I thought Grid was, and he took it right away, as though he could easily see me.
“If you reach to your right you’ll find a banister you can hold onto as well.”
I did and found it easy enough. However, I was expecting something rough and wooden, or cold and steely, but instead the warm banister was smoothly carved rock in the side of the wall. And I wished I’d taken those few seconds while the light was behind me to examine what was before me.
“Ok, step down. We’ll go slow.”
“Why are there no lights up here? And what’s with the wall?” I asked. I took one step down at a time, feeling the edges with my shoe. I was sure if I fell, I’d probably take him with me, and from my experience he’d be the one to break his neck.
“Security,” he said.
“From what?”
But he didn’t respond. I didn’t want to push for answers. Clearly there was more going on than I knew, and I wasn’t yet ready to hear it all anyway. Although I regretted not having more time to ask Jordan such questions, nor the inclination to when I did have the time.
“Stop here,” he whispered, and released my hand.
Even though we were in complete darkness, I could sense he was close by me. The air at the bottom of the stairs had grown still, almost stale, as though fresh air rarely reached that part of the cave, and I could feel his movements gently waft the air. But then even this stopped.
In the darkness and with no movement, the moments seemed to drag into minutes and my imagination began to get the better of me.
“Grid,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
“What are we doing?”
“Eyes open,” he instructed.
At that moment, the wall in front of me fell slowly forward creating a landing, letting in the light beyond it.
“Oh!” I exhaled, as I took one step forward, mesmerized by the lights of the city and the valley that now lay before me, below me, and stretched further than I could see.
“And welcome to the Colony,” he said, holding out one arm and inviting me in.
I looked up at him speechless, not sure if my eyes were seeing quite right, but he only smiled.
“Yeah, I guess I must have looked like that when I first saw it too.”
I slowly turned my head back across the sea of gleaming structures that lit up the edges of the cavern, and the forest that filled the center of the valley. I then stepped to the edge of the landing. It was barred by a blue metallic railing. And I looked down. It was a long way down. I then shifted my stunned gaze up to the ceiling, which I was actually closer to, and I reached up to touch it, but my fingers fell way short.
Overhead the ceiling reflected the night sky, glimmering with stars and a shining moon. It also stretched on forever, across the valley below.
“How big is this place?” I whispered.
“Too big for the few of us that live here. Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to me once more.
I peered down the stairs that we were about to descend. They seemed perfectly solid. But even though I could see this time, my hand still shook as I placed it in his.
And there were a lot of stairs, shimmering white, shaped within the cave wall, winding through it, and meeting at a small landing each time they cut through the interior of the wall. Following down the outside of the stairs and also attached to the inner wall, ran solid blue railings, which also glistened in the light.
<
br /> I initially feared that this was going to be yet another city, that I was going to have to either figure out how to blend into, or be stared at once more. Grid however, gave me at least some hope that the stares would be minimal.
At about two thirds of the way down he stopped on a landing, and turned toward me.
“I should probably tell you, there are not just humans here,” he began, then chuckled. “Well, that didn’t come out right.”
He released my hand and walked closer to the edge of the stairway, and looked down upon the Colony for several moments, before turning back to me.
“We’re all human, of course. But the people that live here are not just from Earth, our plane of existence. There are others.”
“Jordan told me there were other planes that his people connected with.”
He looked down again, away from me. “Ok, well just don’t stare at the women from Heart. They may be tough on the outside, but I believe they’re as sensitive as you are.”
“Heart?”
“Another dimension, similar to Earth, similar to this one.”
“Their planet is called Heart? Nice.”
“No, it’s not really. They’re warriors. All of them. You know anything about Earth history?”
“Um, yes,” I volunteered. “I loved history.”
“Well, imagine a world of Spartans, but both men and women warriors, with a level of developed technology and weapons beyond what you would think possible.”
No, I didn’t want to imagine that. It would be a place equally noble and brutal at the same time. But even though I understood what he meant about the people from Heart, what I didn’t understand was his reference to me.
“As sensitive as me about what?”
He looked back up, stepped closer to me and raised one hand slowly to my face, gently placing his palm against my cheek. The side with the scars. His eyes never leaving mine.
It was the most honest moment I’d experienced with another person - a real person standing before me - since before the accident. I didn’t know how to react, other than to stop breathing as I normally would in such situations. My instinct was to snatch his hand away from my face, turn from him, and run as far and as fast as I could. Instead, I resumed a slow intake of air, trying to stop the blurriness that threatened my vision.