Flux

by Beth Goobie

  Leaving the door to the courtyard slightly ajar, Nellie turned, about to proceed along the hall when she noticed a small alcove carved into the wall directly opposite. Set into the alcove was a statue of the Goddess dressed in Her usual blue robe, hands raised in supplication and an unlit candle at Her feet. At the sight of the candle, a hiss snaked from Nellie’s lips. Sacrilege. Any true believer would have the parish priest drawn and quartered for such disrespect. Leaning forward she kissed Ivana’s feet and whispered profuse apologies, then turned and tiptoed along the narrow corridor. The walls leaned in, the air pressed close. Without tuning into the molecular field she could sense what seemed to be countless gates to other levels, their spidery seams running the walls, ceiling, and floor. A tiny wave of flux came at her, rippling the air with warning. Instinctively she stepped toward it, always ready for another shape-shifting rush, then regretfully drew back. She was here for a higher purpose, a divine purpose really—to discover the Goddess’s secrets and protect Her from the ninth man, if need be. For tonight, the joys of flux would have to wait.

  She reached the low-watt bulb to find the corridor forked and turned left toward an open doorway. Through it she could see rows of pews and beyond them, a faintly lit floor-to-ceiling statue of the Goddess. Creeping to the doorway, Nellie peered into the main sanctuary of the church. All around the room candles flickered in alcoves and on various tables, blossoming into a fiery field beneath the feet of the huge statue of the Goddess that dominated the front wall. Hands cupped She stood in the usual position, feet bare and eyes uplifted. Sometimes those hands held ceremonial objects that had been consecrated for a specific purpose, and several times Nellie had seen them cradle the bloody heart of a freshly sacrificed animal, but tonight they were empty.

  At the front of the sanctuary she could see the shadowy outlines of the men seated in the first several pews. Facing them was the parish priest, dressed in his emerald green robe of daily office. As they spoke the men’s voices blurred and overlapped, playing tricks with echoes, too quick to be made out clearly. Nellie scowled. She was going to have to move in closer if she wanted to hear anything, but that should be easy enough among the pews—just as long as she didn’t bump into Deller. A quick scan of the sanctuary hadn’t revealed his hiding place, and the pews were the obvious option. Dropping to her knees, she began to crawl up a side aisle. Fortunately the priest was standing in front of the center aisle, and his view of her was blocked. Unobserved, she slid into the fifth pew and flattened herself against the stone floor.

  The men seemed to be discussing different suburbs of the city. “Not Waktuk,” said someone quickly. “They’ve already met their quota.”

  “What about Skrenden?” asked someone else.

  “You’re better off in West Daven,” came a third voice. “School attendance is low, and the kids are anywhere and everywhere.”

  “Do the West Daven police know how to handle complaints?” asked a fourth.

  “No one in West Daven goes to the police,” came the dry response. “But that won’t make it easy—West Daven women don’t cut the placenta until the tenth year.”

  The men shared a chuckle, and then the man who’d inquired about the police asked, “What about the churches, Father?”

  “The churches are Dorniver’s only adequate birth registry,” said the priest. “Everyone brings their newborns to the Goddess Ivana.”

  There was another agreeable murmur of laughter from the men, and then the same voice—probably, Nellie realized, the Interior agent—asked, “Father, I need to know—”

  A sneeze erupted at the back of the sanctuary. For one knife-edged moment Nellie froze, then erupted from her pew. There was no point in continuing to crouch on the floor, hoping to remain unobserved—the men had been alerted to the presence of someone else in the room and they would be searching everywhere. As she tore down the aisle, a shout went up behind her, and she put on a surge of speed. No need to panic, she told herself grimly, she had a good head start. But as she approached the back entrance, the drapes to a nearby confessional booth opened and Deller burst into her path. Furiously they struggled in the entranceway, clawing and shoving. In a diamond-brilliant frenzy, Nellie grabbed Deller’s bandaged hand and twisted it until he fell back with a gasp. Then she was through the doorway and pounding down the narrow corridor with him at her heels.

  He’d recognized her. In spite of the gloom and their mutual fear, Deller had gone bug-eyed when he’d fixed on her. But this was no time to gloat. Behind them the men seemed to be gaining, and Nellie sprinted, her feet pounding panic through her body. On either side the walls slanted inward, cold shoulders cutting off her escape. The door behind the dumpster was too far, she would never reach it in time, and when the Interior agent saw her scalp he would drag her to the floor and cut her open a second time. Dizziness flooded Nellie’s knees and she staggered, whimpering.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” A hand shoved her firmly onward and Deller hissed, “You’re not screwing me up again, bitch.”

  The men were so close, Nellie was sure she could hear their breathing. “We can’t do it,” she whispered, and Deller shoved her again, hard. If only, she thought wildly, she could figure out where the closest gate to the next level was. But she couldn’t actually see the gates unless she tuned into the molecular field, and she couldn’t get enough focus to do that while she was pounding in absolute terror down some creepy Goddess-forsaken hallway.

  Or could she? There were so many gates in this place, the air virtually throbbed with them. Even in the middle of her panic Nellie could feel them, she could feel them. Then, to her right, she saw a pocket of flux undulating in the wall. Stumbling to a halt, she turned and threw the full force of her fear directly at it. Immediately the wall divided cleanly, leaving a space the height and breadth of her body. With a cry Nellie sprang through the opening. Sudden darkness enveloped her and she paused, instinctively assessing the new level’s molecular field. Quickly her body adjusted to its vibratory rate. Then she turned, intending to send her mind into the gate and draw it closed, but was almost knocked off her feet as Deller came hurtling through the gap.

  “Out of my way!” she hissed, ducking to one side. Then she sent her mind into the faintly lit opening and drew it closed.

  Chapter 6

  IN PITCH DARKNESS Nellie slumped against the wall behind her and rode out the initial buzz in her brain as her body completed its adjustment to the new level’s quicker vibratory rate. Through the wall she could hear two sets of footsteps fading rapidly down the hall and she tensed, realizing they must belong to her double and Deller’s. A heavy pounding of men’s feet followed. Would they make it? Their doubles had a better chance than she and Deller since her own double hadn’t stopped to open a gate, but even if they reached the door hidden behind the dumpster the men would probably catch them in the courtyard. If not, the patrol gang awaited them in the streets. Oh well. Nellie gave a mental shrug. They were just doubles from another level, and not worth worrying about. What she needed to do now was figure out where she was, then come up with a plan to dump Deller.

  The question was whether to ditch him here in this level, or take him back to their home level before losing him. A tiny grin played across Nellie’s mouth as she considered the first option. Why not? It wasn’t as if she’d asked Deller to follow her through the gate, and she was hardly his babysitter. If he got stuck here alone, that was his problem. So what if he ran into his double and eventually figured things out? Without the ability to open the gates, he would have no way of tracking her down to seek revenge, and she certainly wasn’t planning on returning to this level anytime soon. He would be missed in their home level, of course, but everyone would assume he was another kid who’d been picked up and shipped off to the Interior for experiments. Best of all, the Skulls would be useless without him. All things considered, his absence would improve her life considerably.

  Besides, thought Nellie grimly. tit for tat. He owed her for the haircut.
Straightening, she focused on her surroundings, probing for information. The immediate area smelled musty and the air was so still she could hear the slight pound of her heart in her ears. Leaning to the left, she felt her arm brush against what seemed to be a stack of crates. Slowly she tuned into the molecular field and watched the quiet play of energy in the dark. Except for the rapid pulse of Deller’s body to her right, it was all low-key. The room appeared to be a storage area, jam-packed with boxes and crates, and she sensed nothing that would leap at her, snarling, in the dark.

  Carefully she assessed the harsh rhythm of Deller’s breathing, with its tiny whistle that meant his nose was packed with snot. About a foot to her right he seemed to be just sitting, probably assessing things like she was. The question was: How clued in was he? Could she count on him being disoriented by his abrupt passage between the levels, or at least stunned temporarily stupid? Cautiously Nellie raised herself to a crouch. All she had to do was put some distance between them and lose him in the room’s absolute darkness, then reopen the gate, get herself through it, and shut it again real quick. That shouldn’t be too difficult. Quietly she shifted to get a better balance. A soft swearing started beside her, but Deller seemed to be muttering to himself. So far, so good. Edging her right foot forward, Nellie leaned her weight onto her left, ready to push up into a standing position, and heard her ankle joint crack like tinder wood.

  Instantly Deller was on his feet, shoving her against the wall. “Where d’you think you’re going?” he hissed, his stinky weasely breath all over her face.

  “Somewhere else,” she hissed back. “I’m not spending another minute breathing the stink that comes off you.”

  “You’re not moving an inch without my say-so,” he replied grimly. “Sit back down until I tell you to move.”

  “Why should I listen to someone stupid enough to sneeze a pack of devils down on us?” Nellie grumbled, but she subsided against the wall and felt him draw back a bit ... a very little bit. Holding her breath, she listened to his nose whistle in the dark. Deller breathed the rhythm of quick narrow air, as if he was sitting on some intense private pain, holding it in, containing it. Pain had a secret hold on this boy, it clutched him from the inside out. Keeping that pain at bay—managing it—was what made him such a swift thinker.

  Not that being a quick thinker made him any more difficult to handle, Nellie decided quickly. Here in this room he couldn’t attack or hurt her because her screams would summon the men. Nor could he force her to go anywhere with him for the same reason. All she had to do was sit tight until he got bored and left. Then she could reopen the gate and return to their home level. The levels were great for getting rid of people who were bugging you. Eventually you could always find a way to be left alone. An inexplicable pain hooked Nellie’s heart, and she listened without moving to the rasp of Deller’s breathing in the dark.

  Grunting softly, he shifted. “This place has a real buzz,” he whispered. “Can you feel it?”

  With a start, Nellie realized he was sensing the new level’s vibra-tory rate. That was no good. If he kept thinking along these lines, he might figure things out. “You’re just jumpy,” she said dismissively. “That’s why you’re leaning all over me.”

  Immediately Deller pulled back. “Just making sure you don’t take off,” he muttered, coughing low in his throat.

  “So what if I did?” she sneered. “Scared of the dark, Dellie? Scared you can’t get home to Mommy?”

  He snorted and a pause floated between them, waiting like that moment on the top of the warehouse fence when they’d tensed, watching each other before she’d sprung. Then Deller spoke again, struggling to pull his voice out of an airy arc of fear.

  “How did you know about the secret door in the wall?” he asked.

  She fought the sudden scattering of her thoughts, lacing her voice with obvious scorn. “What secret door?”

  “You didn’t even touch it,” Deller faltered. “Just sort of looked at it, and it came open.”

  “It was already open,” she scoffed. “You didn’t notice. The hall was dark.”

  “Then how’d you get it closed?” Deller demanded, leaning toward her again.

  “Just pushed,” she said vaguely, fumbling for a better lie, but was spared the effort as a shout went up on the other side of the wall.

  “Sssst,” Deller hissed unnecessarily and they both froze, listening to the tramp of approaching feet and the terrified pleading of a fourteen-year-old boy. So, thought Nellie with satisfaction, Deller’s double had been caught and hers had escaped. Didn’t that just tell you who could take better care when things got into a ruckus?

  “Who was that?” whispered Deller, as the pleading voice faded down the hall.

  “Who was who?” mocked Nellie, her triumphant grin taking over the dark.

  “Who’d they catch?” asked Deller, obviously exasperated. “I didn’t see anyone hiding in the church but us.”

  Nellie couldn’t help it, her entire body convulsed with satisfaction. “You!” she crowed and knew the game was up, the secret out, but she couldn’t help it—the truth was beauty in her mouth, a moment of singing revenge for the razor and the taunts that had dug deep, deeper than she’d ever wanted to go.

  “Me?” said Deller, thunderstruck. “But I’m right here, beside you.”

  “Your double,” Nellie gloated and listened to his breath quicken. “Don’t you know anything about traveling the levels?”

  Deller’s silence was so intense she could feel it like a wave, permeating the surrounding dark. “So,” he said finally, his voice husky with thought. “You’re a rerraren, are you, Bunny?”

  Rerraren. The word hung between them, one of those fragments of the old speech that Outbackers used to shut everyone else out. “What’s that?” Nellie asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. “You calling me crazy?”

  “Maybe,” Deller said slowly. “Or maybe I just figured out why they were after your brains.”

  She opened her mouth but there were no words, just the abyss of her mind opening endlessly down.

  “So, we’re somewhere else then?” Deller asked, after a pause. “Lulunar took us into another world? That’s why the air’s got such a buzz to it. What did you call it—a level?”

  Lulunar? she thought. Fine, let him think it’s the twin moons that did it. “Don’t worry,” she said casually. “We’re only one level over, so it’ll be easy to get back. We just have to wait until we’re sure there’s no one in the hall, and then I’ll open the gate.”

  “But that’s the hall in this level, isn’t it?” asked Deller. “How d’you know it’ll be quiet in our level?”

  A grin of admiration flashed across Nellie’s face. He was quick, that was for sure. “Because everything’s the same in the levels,” she explained. “They’re copycats. If the hall’s quiet here, it’ll probably be quiet there too.”

  “Probably?” asked Deller.

  “Well, they’re usually the same,” Nellie admitted. “It depends on flux, I guess. And on how much you mess things up when you travel from one level to the next.”

  “So what you’re saying is that when this hall gets quiet, we won’t have a clue about our hall—” Abruptly Deller cut off, listening, and then she heard it too—a long wavering cry, so faint it seemed to caress the air.

  “That’s ... me,” said Deller slowly. “Isn’t it?”

  “Not you,” Nellie scoffed, trying to shake her unease. “Just one of your doubles. And you can thank the Goddess for that. If we were in our level, it would be you.”

  “But it is me, isn’t it?” said Deller. “Some kind of me, in a different place?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Nellie snapped, her unease growing. Some kind of me—what was he talking about? Doubles were just ... doubles. “Doubles are like shadows,” she said quickly. “Just ideas of yourself. You should be glad those men are busy with your double. It makes it a zillion times easier for me to open the gate and get us back home
.”

  Instantly Deller’s hand gripped her shoulder. “We can’t,” he said hoarsely.

  “You bet we can,” Nellie hissed, trying to shake him off. “I can.”

  “They’ll murder him, Bunny, don’t you know that?” Deller whispered and she froze, thinking of the Interior agent and the line of listless children standing beside the burgundy van. That agent’s double now had hold of Deller’s double, and she knew better than Deller how much mercy the man was likely to show. But so what? This wasn’t her home level, what did she care about what went on here? There were hundreds of levels—you could go crazy trying to keep track of them all.

  “You’re thinking too much,” she said. “This place isn’t real, not like our home level. Once we get back, it’ll fade like a dream. You’ll see.”

  Another cry wavered in the distance, and Deller’s grip tightened. “We can’t go,” he said thickly, “until we get him out.”

  Fear turned cartwheels in Nellie’s head. The guy was a lunatic. She had to dump him, and fast. “You go rescue him,” she hissed, “and I’ll wait here. That ain’t my kind of foolishness.”

  “I can’t get back without you,” Deller said doggedly. “Either you come with me, or I start yelling so loud they’ll find us in five seconds flat.”

  Nellie’s brain blew itself out with shock. “You got a death wish?” she squeaked. “He’s just a stupid double.”

  “What kind of a rerraren are you?” Deller leaned so close she could smell each word. “Don’t you know what a double means, Bunny? You ever seen what happens to a person who goes on living after his soul’s died?”

  “But you’ve got hundreds of doubles,” Nellie protested. She wanted to rake her fingers across his face, scratch some sense into him. “What does one matter?”