by Beth Goobie
“Over there,” she said, pointing to it. “It’s that door right there.”
Quietly Deller ran toward it, tried the knob, and gave her a nod. By the time she reached the door he was inside, holding it ajar. She slipped in after him, and he edged the door shut. Together they turned to face the gloom behind them.
No one else seemed to be around. The hall that stretched ahead of them was obviously empty and lit only by an EXIT sign at the far end. Silence pressed down, so intense it was like someone breathing. Without speaking, Deller pointed down the hall and raised an eyebrow. Nellie shook her head. They were standing just shy of a three-way fork, the hall splitting to the left and right as well as running straight into the heart of the building. If Ayne had Deller’s mother imprisoned and was subjecting her to the same kind of probe Nellie had experienced, there was no time to waste guessing and backtracking.
With a deep thinking breath, she knelt and pressed her hands to the floor, then opened her mind to the molecular field. The barrage of screams and groans was immediate, and everywhere she looked energy leapt in a manic dance as if the building was on fire. Pain, Nellie thought suddenly. The Temple of the Blessed Heart was in utter agony.
“Can you feel it?” she hissed at Deller.
“Feel what?” he hissed back.
Lucky you, she thought, and focused on the vibrations entering her palms. Faint images surfaced into her mind, obscured by the uproar in the molecular field—nothing she could see clearly, but the fear coming from them felt recent. With a sinking feeling Nellie realized that if Deller’s mother had been brought here, she wasn’t the only one. The Temple of the Blessed Heart was probably used regularly for interrogations. In that case this trail may or may not have been left by Deller’s mother, but the likelihood was that anyone brought in here who was feeling this much fear would be taken to the same destination.
“C’mon,” she hissed at Deller and veered down the left corridor, stooping every now and then to press her hands to the floor. The trail seemed to grow clearer as she followed it, heading down a flight of stairs into an even more shadowy hall, then turning to the right. Nothing else changed. The walls kept up their screaming, the floor continued its throb of malevolence. Abruptly the trail she was following faded as she picked up a stronger one, its images vivid and undeniable—a blindfolded woman with her hands tied behind her back, being shoved through a nearby doorway by a woman with bright orange hair.
“There,” Nellie said, pointing to it. “She’s in there.”
Deller lunged toward the door, and she had to jump him and drag him back. “Don’t be an idiot,” she hissed into his ear. “Let me scan it first.”
For a moment he stared at her, his eyes blank with terror. Then the Deller she knew returned to his face and he nodded, slumping against the wall. Swallowing hard, Nellie turned and peered through a small window set high in the door. A gasp escaped her, and immediately Deller pressed in behind her, leaning over her shoulder.
“Can you see her?” he hissed.
Nellie shook her head. The room before her was well lit and empty of human presence. Cupboards and medical equipment lined the walls and there, positioned along the far wall, were the three birdlike machines she’d seen near the quarry.
“No one’s in there,” she mouthed at Deller. “But I can feel her.”
Turning the doorknob, she edged the door open. Nothing stirred. Then in the silence, she heard a muffled groan. Glancing at Deller, Nellie saw his face pale. “Wait here,” she whispered, but he shook his head. Together they slipped into the room and eased the door closed behind them.
Another moan sounded. Quickly Nellie turned toward it and saw a second door in the wall to her left, partially obscured by a cabinet. Crossing the room she gripped the knob, about to turn it, when another sound sent her whirling back around. Across the room someone was coming out of what appeared to be a supplies closet—a man with blond hair, narrow blue eyes and a wide thin mouth. Hadden. At the sight of him Nellie’s brain tilted savagely, filling with the eerie singing of stars, and then she saw a second head composed of brilliant light that overlapped Hadden’s—slightly bigger, with a long jutting jaw. Another doubling, she realized with a surge of panic. Was everyone who hung out in the Goddess’s house in cahoots with the devil?
Hadden’s eyes widened as he saw them, and then a grin crossed his face. “Gotcha,” he said, turned to a button on the wall and pressed it. Instantly an alarm signal went off, the high-pitched beeping tearing into Nellie’s brain.
Without hesitating, she yanked open the door before her. As she tore into the next room, two figures came into view—a woman with bright orange hair who was leaning over a second woman with a bloody face, strapped to a chair. Neither looked up. Ayne was hissing, her concentration broken by the alarm, but her focus remained on Deller’s mother who sat slumped with her eyes closed. Frantically Nellie glanced about the room. Small and almost empty, there was only a bare bulb overhead, the chair at the center of the room and some ominous-looking equipment on a nearby table. Obviously an interrogation room, Nellie realized, and its only exit was the one through which they’d just come. A hot spurt of urine ran down her legs as she saw that door open and Hadden rush in. Gibbering softly, she backed away from his grin. There was nothing she could do here. He could travel the levels too, and the last thing she needed was to face him and his double. They both knew this place better than she did.
Unless ... Turning to Deller, Nellie saw him struggling with Ayne. Quickly she raced over to him and grabbed his arm. Then she placed her other hand on his mother’s shoulder. Mustering every raw nerve in her body, she focused and took them out of sync with the surrounding vibratory rate. Immediately the room disappeared, and they found themselves standing in a murky blur that reverberated with shrieks, howls and groans.
“What is this?” yelped Deller, backing into her.
“I told you,” Nellie yelled into his ear. “It’s what the church sounds like—all the demons in hell screaming.”
“You’ve got that right.” Beads of sweat dotted Deller’s forehead. “It’s making me dizzy. I—” Glancing down, he saw his mother huddled on the floor. “Mom,” he whispered. Reaching for her arm, he helped her to her feet.
“Deller?” she murmured, swaying slightly.
“I’m here, Mom,” he said, then shot Nellie a glance. “What happened to the chair?” he hissed. “Where are we?”
“Out of sync,” she hissed back. “Between levels. The chair’s back in our home level.”
Understanding crossed his face and he nodded. Turning from him, Nellie scanned the surrounding blur, watching for any sign of Hadden. He’d probably jumped to the next level looking for them, and with any luck would continue onward for several levels, keeping up the search. She would give it a few minutes, then—
But no. Halfway across the room she could see a vague outline solidifying into narrow blue eyes and a thin-lipped sneer. “Gotcha,” Hadden said again, starting toward them.
Putting out her hand, Nellie brought Deller and his mother back into sync with the molecular field. There was no helping it now, she had only one option left, regardless of what her double in the gold-brocaded dress had said. As the room came back into focus, she saw it was empty except for Ayne who was standing beside the interrogation chair, staring grimly at the spot Hadden had disappeared. Glancing toward Deller, Nellie saw his eyes fix on Ayne, then flick toward her. Horror flashed across his face as he realized what she was about to do, and then he nodded once. It was all Nellie needed and she darted toward Ayne, skidding to a halt in front of her.
For one endless, screaming-crazy moment she stood inches from the woman’s thunderous face and bright orange perm. Then Nellie tuned into the molecular field and threw the full force of her terror at the gate hovering midair before her. To her profound relief it opened without the slightest sensation of pain. Tuning back into solid reality, she saw Ayne’s body divided down the middle, the two parts standing seve
ral feet apart.
There was no blood or sign of tearing, no internal organs hanging loose. The division had taken place as cleanly as if the woman had been made of plastic. Ever seen what happens to a body when its soul. dies? Nellie remembered. Her eyes skittered across the look of fear frozen into both halves of Ayne’s face. Then she turned and grabbed Deller and his mother by the arm.
“C’mon,” she hissed, and they stumbled together through the gate framed by Ayne’s body into the unknown.
Chapter 18
FOR A MOMENT NELLIE felt everything about her—the room, Ayne’s divided body, even her own body—di solve into a panorama of quick, high-singing vibrations. Then the solid world returned, but in a completely altered form. Instead of standing between the divided halves of Ayne’s body, Nellie found herself stepping out of a set of metal brackets that rose approximately a foot above her head. In front of her lay a small room that was obviously an office. Filing cabinets and bookcases lined the walls, and a desk, with a computer stood to her left. Seated at the desk, with his back to her and completely engrossed in the screen before him, was a man wearing headphones. Turning to warn Deller and his mother, Nellie saw Deller’s eyes already riveted to the man’s back. Beside him stood his mother, eyes closed and swaying slightly. Nellie’s gaze lingered briefly on a cut beneath the woman’s left eye. It was still bleeding and looked deep, but for now it was going to have to wait. Reluctantly she turned her attention back to the room.
The brackets through which they’d emerged were positioned several feet from the nearest wall. A red light was blinking on the right bracket, probably signaling their arrival. Clearly the brackets acted as a kind of a receiving gate, but why, thought Nellie, would they connect to a gate in a human being? She’d expected to have to deal with whatever it was that had stolen Ayne’s soul, not a mechanical device. And where was her double, and Deller’s and his mother’s? The vibrations through which they’d traveled en route to this level hadn’t been much quicker than their home level’s. This meant they couldn’t have gone more than one or two levels, and everything should be more or less exactly the same as the place they’d just left—unless they’d hit a major pocket of flux, or somehow jumped to one of the unfixed levels her double in the gold-brocaded dress had mentioned. But those started at the eleventh level, which would mean a much quicker vibratory rate.
Without warning, Deller’s mother gave a quiet moan and slumped against her son. As Deller steadied her, Nellie’s eyes darted toward the man at the computer, but the music blaring from his headphones had blocked the small sound. Still, they had to get moving. Catching Deller’s eyes, Nellie pointed to an open doorway across the room, then tiptoed toward it. A quick glance through it revealed a reception area with a large desk, the usual office equipment and a few chairs. Beyond the lobby she could see the beginning of a hallway, and to her right another door. The entire scene ached with emptiness. The man at the computer seemed to be the only person around.
Of course, thought Nellie. It was the seventh of Lulunar, the day the Festival of the Return was celebrated. Businesses and offices would be closed, and everyone would be outdoors at the various carnivals. The guy at the computer was either a workaholic or an utter pagan. Gesturing to Deller, Nellie slipped into the reception area, then leaned against a wall and opened her mind to the molecular field. Hadden would be searching for them, might even at this moment be coming through the set of brackets in the office behind her, but she had to get a feel for this place, figure out its vibratory rate and how many levels they’d gone. But as solid reality dissolved into glowing silhouettes of energy, she felt only more confusion. No onslaught of wails and screams hit her, and as far as she could tell the surrounding vibratory rate matched her home level’s exactly.
That meant this was her home level, but from the lack of wails and screams in the molecular field it was obvious they were no longer in the Temple of the Blessed Heart. How was that possible? Almost against her will, Nellie glanced toward a long window that ran the length of the opposite wall, and her jaw dropped. She was obviously on the upper floor of a very tall building, for the view before her was tremendous. More importantly, it wasn’t a tremendous view of Dorniver’s downtown area, or any of its meandering suburbs. Instead she saw, stretching toward the horizon, a city whose streets and buildings were far too sophisticated, utilitarian and orderly to belong to any Outbacks city. And yet, Nellie thought, scanning the main river, parks and downtown area, the landscape looked familiar. To her right she could see the planetarium and Museum of Natural History her mother used to take her to, as well as a rec center at which she’d taken swimming lessons. With deft familiarity, her eyes followed the gridwork streets past the Goddess’s Redemption Cathedral toward a suburb where she’d lived until she was eight. This was Marnan, one of the Interior’s largest cities and the last place she remembered being happy, before she and her mother had started moving so much, running from city to city.
They were in the Interior. Numb with shock, Nellie turned to face Deller as he led his mother into the lobby. How in the Goddess’s name was she supposed to explain this? Here she’d been trying to help them, and had made the situation ten times worse.
“Where are we, sweetie?” Deller’s mother whispered. Eyes half-open, she leaned heavily on her son’s shoulder. Under the harsh overhead lighting, the cuts and bruises on her face were clearly visible, and her skin had a grayish pallor.
“I don’t know,” Nellie said helplessly. The soaked patch between her legs had turned cold and was beginning to rub. Desperately she squeezed her legs together and hoped no one would notice the smell.
“Just one of your levels?” With a grimace, the woman touched the bloody cut under her eye.
“Sort of,” said Nellie, watching Deller who’d turned and was peering through the office doorway. Suddenly he tensed and backed toward them. “Hadden,” he mouthed as voices broke out behind him.
“Anyone come through here lately, Lars?” demanded a familiar clipped voice.
“Uh uh,” said another voice carelessly. “Not for hours.” “You sure?” asked Hadden, his voice loud and irritated. “I was following three, in a group—a middle-aged bitch, a boy and a girl. Couldn’t really get a fix on the girl. A lot of her waves were pretty high up. She breached a contact point and left it dysfunctional. Took me a while to get it working again.”
Contact point, thought Nellie weakly. So that was how they thought of Ayne—merely an entry and exit point.
“You think she’s the one they’re looking for?” the other man asked quickly.
“I don’t know,” replied Hadden. “You’re sure they didn’t come through here?”
“Been here for hours,” the other man assured him. “No one’s showed.”
“I’ll have to call headquarters then,” Hadden said. “Could be the contact point screwed up and downloaded them somewhere else in the system. The receiving stations will have to be notified.”
“There’s a direct line at the front desk,” said the other man. “It’s a Goddess freak day and everyone’s on holiday, praying to their star charts.”
Nellie’s eyes slitted. A pagan, just as she’d thought. She turned toward the hallway, intending to run toward it, then felt a hand grab her arm and whirled to find Deller pulling her through a second doorway close to the reception desk. Quickly his mother eased the door shut behind them. Huddled in the dark, they listened as Hadden stalked into the lobby and picked up the phone.
It sounded as if it was going to be a long, very muffled conversation. Restless, Nellie let her mind tilt to the right and began to scan the molecular field. They appeared to be standing in a small storage room. Outlines of several filing cabinets glowed quietly in the dark, and she could make out rows of shelving along the far wall. Further probing revealed what was probably a small lamp sitting on top of a filing cabinet. Tuning back into solid reality, Nellie crossed the room and touched the object. Yes, it was a lamp, and it appeared to be plugged in. Cu
pping her hands around the knob to muffle any click it might make, she turned it on.
The room lit up with a gentle glow. Immediately Nellie’s eyes flew toward the others, who were still standing by the door. As the light hit him Deller whirled, then relaxed and nodded. His mother simply opened her eyes and closed them again. It must have been twelve hours, Nellie realized, since the woman had had anything to eat. Glancing around, she spotted a box of sugar cubes next to some coffee supplies on a shelf. Carefully she opened the box, wincing as the cardboard rasped slightly, then tiptoed to the door and placed a cube against Deller’s mother’s mouth. The woman’s eyes flew open, and she took the cube from Nellie and fit it carefully between her swollen lips. Handing the box to Deller, Nellie watched him lift another cube to his mother’s mouth.
She turned from them and began to prowl the room. Part of a secretary’s work area, it was consumed by shelves of office supplies, a photocopier and a row of filing cabinets. Stopping in front of the latter, Nellie scanned the labels that appeared on the drawers. MB129QS. Detta 093. Quadrant 74QA. What kind of codes were these? Curious, she pressed a release button and slid open a drawer packed with file folders. But the files were labeled with incomprehensible technical jargon, and none of the diagrams in the folders made any sense. Bored, she moved on to the next filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. Pulling out the first file, she almost grinned as she read the label. Breeding Program? Was the government of the Interior getting into the dog-breeding industry?
Slipping the file back into the drawer, Nellie flipped to the next one and read the name Gemma Abreen on the label. She opened the file and saw the photograph of a seven-year-old girl in the top right-hand corner and her case history typed into the appropriate boxes below. Unease rippled through Nellie and she scowled. What would a seven-year-old girl have to do with a breeding program? Opening the next file, she saw another photograph and name—Phillip Acker, fifteen years old. His mother was an engineer, his father ... See File PRADS01 was typed into the appropriate box. The next several files revealed a similar scenario—a child’s photograph with an address, birthdate, and mother’s occupation, and a similar reference to the father’s identity: See File JQFR1011 or Refer to File MTZFN1201.