by Beth Goobie
Nellie’s heart began to thud painfully. Mysterious unnamed fathers—it had been a sore point between her and her mother. While Interior children didn’t live with their fathers, they were usually given the basic facts about their lineage, including their father’s name, caste and medical history. But all Nellie’s mother would say about her father was, “He’s with the stars now, honey. It doesn’t matter what his name is—he belongs to the Goddess.”
Nellie shivered once, uncontrollably, then got a grip and began leafing through the files until she reached the back of the drawer. The last file contained the case history of a boy named Sean Edden and she shifted to the next drawer, continuing her search. She was looking for the letter K—K for Kammer, Kendricks, Kidder ... And then, there it was—Kinnan, Nellie Joan. Soundless bells tolled in her palms, blackness oozed through her brain and cleared. Slowly she pulled out the file and opened it.
There was her photograph, taken when she was eight, approximately two years before she and her mother fled the Interior. The home address listed was for an apartment she remembered as having bright yellow walls and a landlady two floors down who owned a pet canary named Holy Moley. Her school had been just around the corner, a two-minute dash. Nellie’s eyes roamed the page, scanning her uneven academic record and the lists of her recreational activities and closest friends. Why would anyone want to keep track of her friends? And why had a dark stroke been drawn through the box that listed siblings? She had no siblings. It had been another sore point to pester her mother about.
Without warning, Nellie’s eyes locked onto her mother’s name: Lydia Stella Kinnan. Occupation: elementary schoolteacher. Terminated in Dorniver, traitor’s death. The death date given was sixteen months previous. As Nellie read it, the floor wobbled under her feet and she slumped heavily against the filing cabinet. Deaddeaddead, my mother is dead. Finally it was official, more than a deep dark question hovering at the back of her brain. For a long moment she stood caught in a nothing place, sucking her pain into a small black box and burying it deep within herself. Then she forced her eyes to return to the page and scan for details about her father.
There was the appropriate box, but a heavy stroke had also been drawn through it. Nellie whimpered in dismay, then glanced up, terrified at the sound she’d released. Her eyes locked with Deller’s, and they waited, strung like live wires across the muffled staccato of Hadden’s voice. Finally Nellie shrugged and Deller shrugged back. Handing the box of sugar cubes to his mother, he crossed the room and stopped beside her. Instinctively Nellie’s arm shifted to cover the page, resisting when he tried to move it. Then her eyes fell on the gap in his hand that had once held his missing finger. Everyone had something missing in their life—with Deller it was his father and brother, with her it was her mother and her past. Slowly she let her arm slide off the file.
Deller glanced at the page and his eyebrows rose disbelievingly at the sight of her name. “What is this?” he whispered.
She shrugged, not able to speak the words Breeding Program, and flipped to the file’s second page. Filled with diagrams of the human brain, it was marked with small Xs and arrows. Tiny print gave complex medical explanations. Nellie scowled as she stumbled over the unfamiliar terminology. Biotelemetric, electromagnetic, bio-chip, nerve chip, radio-transmitter—what was this but fancy talk for some kind of machinery that had been stuck inside her head? Shrill stars sang in her ears; for a moment she felt everything she knew and understood slip completely away from her.
“Nellie?” Deller whispered, gripping her arm. The warmth of his hand brought her back to herself, but she shrugged him off and glanced again at the page before her. According to this file she’d been part of a secret government breeding program that wouldn’t even list her father’s coded file number. Her mother had been murdered for trying to rescue her, and her brain was filled with technology she couldn’t begin to understand. Shakily Nellie flipped to the file’s final page and read the last typed entry: Contact lost near Dorniver. The date listed was the same as the one given for her mother’s death. A single hand-scrawled phrase dominated the bottom half of the page: Operation 9Q4L incomplete. Quickly she flipped back to the previous page. There it was—the code 9Q4L, written next to a profile of her brain showing two implants inserted into the right temporal lobe. Was this the reason her mother had taken her and fled to the Outbacks, then died a traitor’s death—for trying to save her from the completion of Operation 9Q4L?
Clutching the file, Nellie stared at the cabinet drawer. There were so many folders, surely one file marked incomplete wouldn’t be missed. But what if she was caught with this information on her? Any Interior agent would immediately know who she was. Long-ingly Nellie traced the phrases typed onto the first page. There was her mother’s name, her own name, the name of her school and her former best friend. She was real, she did exist, and this file was her only evidence that she’d once belonged with people who’d known and loved her. It felt like missing breath.
Without glancing at Deller, she returned the file to the drawer and tucked it into place. She took one last look, straightening the file’s edges, matching it to the previous one. As she did, the following file sagged and she reached for it, intending to straighten it too, but then her heart stopped beating and she was falling through a long silence. When the falling stopped, she found herself once again standing before the filing cabinet, her eyes focused on the new file, repeatedly scanning the label. Nellie Joanne Kinnan—the name came at her like a whisper that had been buried deep underground. Sliding the file out of the drawer, she opened it.
The photograph was obviously recent. The girl facing the camera had long blond hair. Her eyes were gray and curiously slanted, her nose thin and snubbed at the tip, her lips smiling but unsure of their meaning. Something about the corner tuck of her mouth told Nellie this girl could get pretty weasely. Maybe that was why they looked so much alike. But then maybe it was because the girl’s birthdate was the same as Nellie’s, and her mother was also listed as Lydia Stella Kinnan, an elementary schoolteacher who’d died a traitor’s death. Her father’s name had been blacked out, as had the box listing siblings.
Nellie Joanne’s current address was unfamiliar, but Nellie read it several times, imprinting it to memory, as well as the incomprehensible phrase, “Black Core Program: Advanced Stage.” Then she flipped to the second page and saw the same diagrams of the brain, only this time operation 94QL was marked complete. Further operations had followed. A third page revealed a full-scale drawing of the human body with Xs marked all over it. Nellie’s face blanched as she saw some of the sites. The girl was a walking implant factory.
Nellie stood in a terror vast and silent as a slowly spinning universe, and listened to her heart beat. She had a twin. Somewhere in a past she could barely remember they’d probably lived together, shared a bedroom, played with the same toys, and breathed one another’s air. While the details had been forgotten, she finally recognized the sensation of absence that had always been with her, sliding across the edge of her thoughts like a reflection in a mirrored mask. In some deep buried part of herself she’d always known about Nellie Joanne, had always missed her.
Slowly she slid the file into the drawer and closed it. Turning, she saw Deller standing inches from her and staring openmouthed, and his mother beyond him, still leaning against the door listening to the uneven rumble of Hadden’s voice. Frozen, Nellie stared back at Deller, her mouth also open, filled with the same silence. It felt as if it had been years since she’d opened the first filing cabinet drawer, as if she’d traveled several universes since reading the label Breeding Program. Through the door came the muffled click of a phone being returned to its cradle. Footsteps stalked out of the lobby, down the long tiled hallway of her mind, and faded.
“He’s gone,” Deller’s mother mouthed.
Nellie nodded blearily. Crossing the room, she grabbed several sugar cubes and shoved them into her mouth. Grimly she fought off the urge to gag, sucking
and swallowing until her head cleared and her blood quickened. “I guess we should try going back now,” she whispered. “Are you okay enough to do that?”
With a grimace, Deller’s mother closed her eyes and murmured, “Dizzy, but I’ll try.”
“C’mon, Mom,” Deller said, slipping an arm under her shoulder.
Quietly Nellie eased open the door and tiptoed across the lobby. Peering into the office, she saw the man still working at his computer and the set of metal brackets just beyond him, close to the far wall. An attack of shivering hit her and she hugged herself fiercely. What would happen this time when they stepped between the brackets? Would they be sent back through Ayne, or downloaded somewhere else in ‘the system’? And if they returned through Ayne, where would that be—to a laboratory full of waiting lab-coated men and priests?
It was only when she was a third of the way into the room that she realized the man at the computer was no longer wearing headphones. Fortunately the floor was carpeted and he was clicking furiously at his keyboard, but as she reached the room’s halfway point a phone sitting next to him began to ring. The man reached to pick it up and his eyes fell on her, frozen mid-step. Briefly he sat, mouth open and staring at her, and then she felt him tense, about to spring.
Sending her mind into the molecular field, Nellie brought it abruptly to a standstill. Shock reverberated through the molecules in her immediate vicinity and she wondered helplessly what this was doing to Deller and his mother. For a long stretched moment she stood fixed in position, watching the man who sat facing her, frozen in his chair. Then she braced herself and revved the vibratory rate back up to its normal speed.
The man at the desk continued to sit with his hand stretched toward the phone, a woozy expression on his face. Whirling, Nellie grabbed Deller and his mother and began dragging them toward the metal brackets. “Wake up,” she hissed, panicking at the stunned looks on their faces. “Wake up.” When Deller continued to stare blankly at her, she slapped him. Abruptly his eyes cleared, and he glanced swiftly around himself.
“I’ll go first,” Nellie hissed at him. “You bring your mom.” Then she turned and stepped between the brackets. Immediately she sensed what seemed to be a large pattern of vibrations with many smaller patterns pulsing within it, as if she was being offered a selection of destinations. Scanning them, she found one that felt familiar and focused on it. As she did, a long vertical seam appeared before her. Quickly she sent her mind into it and began to push. Easily, without pain, the gate opened, and she stepped through it.
She was back in the Temple of the Blessed Heart all right, but in the interim Ayne had been moved from the interrogation room to the laboratory. The first thing Nellie saw as she stepped free of the gate were the three birdlike machines, which had been moved from their original position in a corner to the middle of the room. Beyond them stood a priest in his emerald green robe of daily office, leaning against the door that led to the hall. Several lab-coated men were also standing about, facing him. A discussion was in progress and no one had noticed her arrival.
“We’ve got the kids doped and ready in the van,” said one of the lab-coated men. “There’s a strong alignment between the Susurra and the Moons tonight, and we’re going to check out any new levels that might bring into range. But Hadden said one of the machines wasn’t functioning properly, so I want to give them a quick test before we head out.”
Leaning forward, he flicked a switch on the stem of one of the machines, and all three began to emit a loud hum. At the same moment, Deller and his mother stepped through the divided halves of Ayne’s body. When she saw the scene before her, Deller’s mother let out a cry, and the men whirled toward them.
“Get them!” shouted the priest.
Gibbering softly, Nellie rode out a wave of panic. There was no possible way she could freeze a molecular field with this many people. Behind her stood an open gate, but there was no point in heading back into the Interior. As the men lunged forward, her eyes fell on the birdlike machines. Swiftly, without thinking, she grabbed Deller and his mother and stepped into the space between the machines. A howl of dismay went up from the men and she heard one of them call out, “They’re not stabilized. We won’t know how to bring you ba—”
Nellie’s brain tilted to the right and her head filled with the shrill voices of whirling stars. Heat permeated her body and her vibratory rate shot up. Dimly she felt Deller’s mother’s hand tighten around her own, and then the birdlike machines, the shouting men and the laboratory disappeared.
Chapter 19
FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE uncontained infinity, stars whirled and called out inside Nellie’s head, heat built inside her body and her vibratory rate continued to increase. Then the stars vanished and she saw what appeared to be level after level rapidly materializing and dematerializing around her. The first few resembled the laboratory scene she’d just left, with lab-coated men shouting at her from beyond birdlike machines. But before she could tell what was happening to her doubles, she’d passed through the nine fixed levels and entered what appeared to be a world of ancient broken-down buildings occupied by gargoyles. Next, a realm of darkness and fire materialized, inhabited by the looming figures of demons. This passed, and she was surrounded by humanoid reptilians that watched her through cold predatory eyes. Then they were gone, and she’d entered a landscape filled with vivid, strange-singing birds.
On and on Nellie traveled, her vibratory rate continuing to increase as she passed through levels as exotic as they were different. One moment she faced figures of blue spiraling smoke, the next she was surrounded by entities that leapt and danced with the jagged radiance of lightning. Finally she jerked to a halt, teetering in the rush and whirl of her own mind, and tumbled forward. Sobbing, she pressed against the ground beneath her, holding onto it with her body, begging it to remain in place. When nothing changed and her vibratory rate remained constant for several minutes, she opened her eyes and sat up.
She was immediately conscious of heat and a mild thrumming sensation. Squinting against a brightness that seemed to come from everywhere, Nellie gaped at the surrounding landscape. In the distance a row of high white cliffs hemmed a gleaming lake, and an abundance of glittering transparent vegetation grew everywhere, giving off flashes of prismatic light. Trees stretched into impossibly delicate shapes and flowers were patterned like snowflakes. Under her feet was something that looked and felt like sand, but glowed like tiny crystals.
Reaching down to scoop some of it into her palm, Nellie gasped and lifted both hands to her face. Glittery and transparent, they glowed like the surrounding landscape, as did the rest of her body. Sticking out her foot, she watched it give off a flash of brilliant multi-colored light. Upon entering this level, her entire body appeared to have been transformed into a crystalline substance that matched the landscape. Just like, Nellie thought, excitement catching in her throat, when I’m shapeshifting and I turn into a crystal girl.
As she turned her hands, watching them sparkle, she became aware of a mild thrumming sensation that seemed to be coming from her body. Kneeling, she pressed her hands to the sand and felt it emitting the same quick pulse. This was obviously a level vibrating at a very high rate—even the air seemed to shimmer and hum. Touching her throat, Nellie felt her pulse racing at three times the normal rate and yet she didn’t feel tired or overwhelmed.
Turning, she saw Deller and his mother lying nearby, their eyes closed. Though their bodies had also been transformed into a crystalline state, their limbs were dull, without the gleaming luminescence of her own. Gently Nellie patted their faces. When neither stirred, she pressed the inside of their wrists and felt their pulses also racing at three times the normal rate, but harsh-edged and erratic.
“Deller,” she shouted. Taking him by the shoulders, she gave him a good shake, but his eyes remained closed, his mouth slack and open.
“They’ll be dead in a couple of hours,” said a voice behind her, and Nellie whirled to see her cryst
alline double standing several feet away. As with everything in this place, the girl’s transparent body glimmered and thrummed. Dressed in a short white tunic and sandals, she cocked her head to one side and observed Nellie curiously.
“No, they won’t,” Nellie snapped back, surging to her feet. “I won’t let them.”
Her double shrugged and tossed her long glowing hair, then turned and pointed a short ways off to several humps in the ground. “That’s where we buried the others,” she said nonchalantly. “They show up every now and then; we don’t know from where. Never even wake up, just lie there and die.”
Nellie’s eyes f licked desperately over the row of humps, counting. Nine. Had they all been children sent here by the birdlike machines? “Deller can’t die,” she stammered. “Or his mom. They’re my friends.”
“We’re all friends here,” her double shrugged. “You’ll see.”
“What if I give them some water?” Frantically Nellie pointed to the far-off gleam at the base of the cliffs.
“They can’t drink it,” her double said carelessly. “We’ve tried, but it won’t go into them. They’re not made for it. I think you’re okay though,” she added. “If you weren’t, you’d be out of it like them. Besides, you look like me, so you’re probably someone who was supposed to be with us but got lost. I bet it won’t take long for you to learn oneness.”