Bridgebuilders

by Marlene Dotterer

“Excellent work! Where did they go?”

  “Queen’s University. Just off the old quad.”

  Feldman turned and snapped a finger at the supervisor, who was staring at him, open-mouthed. “We have a team on campus. Get them over there, now! I want those people returned. Alive.”

  He brought his attention back to his Pad. “Dr. Warner, did you know our guests have slipped the cage?”

  There was a pause before she spoke. “No sir, I didn’t know it. But I knew it was a possibility, unless you’d given them the go-ahead to run an experiment.”

  “You would have been told if I had,” Feldman said. “Now, I want to know everything you’ve got on Andrew Green. I want his complete record, but send me whatever you’ve got available as soon you as have it.”

  “Mr. Green?” Her voice climbed a register. “Isn’t he there?”

  “He vanished with Altair. Get me that data.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Feldman closed the connection, pressed another button to call Dr. Russell, and turned to the supervisor, who barked, “The Queen’s team is looking for them, sir.”

  “Keep me informed immediately, whatever happens,” Feldman said. “Also, I want a complete sweep of this room, and Lab 4D. I want it yesterday.” He turned his attention to the woman waiting on his Pad. “Dr. Russell, what have you got on those tracking chips?”

  “Full-spectrum tests aren’t done yet, sir. So far, I’m not seeing any anomalies.”

  “I want you to check through all your tests on Altair and Andrews. See if there’s something in their tissues that can be used as a tracker. Altair had to have some way of finding where she was, before he could transport her.”

  “Sir?” Dr. Russell was clearly bewildered.

  “Just do it doctor. I need that information now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Feldman closed the call, grinding his teeth in fury. It took all his control to not hurl the Pad against a wall. Eyes closed, he counted to four, then turned to the guards. “Get a team to go over today’s feed. I want to know what they did and what they said. Do the same with the Andrews feed. You’ve got an hour.” He swung around on a heel and covered the steps to the door in four strides. “I’ll be in the neutrino lab with Dr. Warner.”

  ~~~

  Moving with gentle slowness, Andy lay Moira’s head in his lap. Her hair was wet and tangled, and he ran his fingers through it, starting at her scalp, brushing down until he hit a snag. He continued the movement, watching her face for any sign of consciousness. His mind raced in a hundred circles, fleeing from worry over Moira to the presence of Sam and Sarah, to life in the Allied Rebels. He had always had a plan for his life, with clear short-term goals to achieve on the way to long-term goals. Now he was racing into a supernova. He had no idea what would happen next.

  He felt a pressure on his hand and looked down to see Moira’s eyes open, fixed on his face. Her hand covered his, hindering his massage of her head. He was keeping her balanced with the other hand against her waist, so he just smiled down at her. “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

  “It hurts,” she whispered. Then louder, “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a long story. But Karen’s taking us to meet the rebels. There’ll be a doctor for you. For now, don’t try to move. You’re safe.”

  “They caught me at the hotel,” she said, her eyes closing. “I had to run, and I think it made the injury worse.” Her eyes popped open. “Someone was shooting at us. Are you all right? Where’s Karen?”

  “Shhh.” He patted her head. “Everyone’s fine, don’t worry.”

  “Who were those people with you?”

  He gestured toward the other side of the van and she turned her head. “Sam Altair and Sarah Andrews. Your interdimensional people.”

  Sam nodded, and Sarah lifted a hand in a brief wave.

  Moira started to sit up, but jerked to a stop, gasping. Andy gripped her around the shoulders. “Moira, stay still.”

  Sarah rose with swift grace and knelt by Moira, adding her hands to Andy’s. “Please don’t try to get up. We’re not going anywhere.”

  Moira stared at her. “You ... you’re real.” She moved a hand to stroke Sarah’s arm. “You really came over that neutrino bridge?”

  “Yes, we really did.” Sarah smiled, but Andy thought it was a bitter one. “That’s the last thing that went the way it was supposed to.”

  Moira returned the smile, but the pain behind it was obvious. “Our plans seem to be coming out the same way. But you must tell me how the bridge works. I did some equations, but I have so many questions, starting with how you found our universe. How are the universes placed relative to each other? What sort of ...”

  “Moira.” Andy touched a finger to her lips, as Sarah and Sam exchanged an amused glance. Andy was dizzy with relief that Moira felt well enough, and alert enough, to jump right into questions.

  The lips under his fingers moved sideways and she glared at him. “You,” she said from behind his hand, which he finally moved, “have been working with them all day. You’ve had all your questions answered.”

  He shook his head. “It hasn’t been that way, I’m afraid. Sam and Sarah were taken prisoner as soon as they got here, and we’ve been working on Albert Feldman’s ominous projects. It’s been pretty tense all day.”

  Sarah stood, and bent down to pat Moira’s shoulder. “We all have questions. Sam and I did not know what to expect here, and I don’t mind telling you that I’m terrified. But I hope we do have a chance to talk about the science. It really is amazing.”

  The van eased to a stop as she was speaking, then began a backup turn. Sarah sat close to Sam, taking his hand. When the van stopped again, Karen and the driver got out. Andy slipped a hand under Moira’s knees, hoping they had reached their destination.

  “I can walk,” Moira said in faint protest.

  Andy glanced with some concern at the van door, while sparing a tiny smile for Moira. “No, you can’t.” He could hear voices out there. What was Karen playing at?

  At last, the back doors opened. Andy was relieved to see Karen holding onto a wheelchair, but not the people behind her. Two women and two men, all pointing pistols at the van’s occupants.

  No one moved.

  “Is this necessary? Andy asked.

  Karen shrugged. “You wanted safety. They don’t stay safe without precautions.”

  Moira turned her head to look. “She has a point, Andy.”

  Karen held out an arm. “They won’t shoot unless you give them a reason to. Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you, including the doctor.”

  Andy glanced at Sam, who tilted his head and swept an arm toward the door. So he stood, striding forward with what he hoped looked like confidence. He had nothing to hide from these people. They’re the good guys.

  He tried to project his confidence as he placed Moira in the chair. She was biting her lip, but managed to smile at him. He stroked her hair one more time, then Karen turned the chair around and entered the building. Sam and Sarah waited with Andy until one of the guns indicated they should follow.

  Chapter 30

  Dinnie’s team hunched in their chairs in the main room while they sifted through data, all of them gathered in a loose group in the farthest corner of the room. Dinnie knew they were trying to stay away from Feldman, who paced behind her in her office, alternately yelling at people in his earpiece, or watching as she flipped through the information on her display. She didn’t blame her team. She wished she could join them.

  He had been yelling at someone on a call as he dashed into the bullpen, and the workers had scattered like cockroaches. He paid no attention to them, just turned into Dinnie’s office with a list of rapid-fire demands, most of them instructions she was to give to various department heads. She passed all the messages along with shaking hands. Now she was back to going over Andy Green’s personnel file, but nothing in it satisfied Feldman. None of this was in her job description, but she wasn’t a
bout to tell Feldman that.

  One of the messages she’d sent had been to one of Sun’s Intel teams, ordering up-to-the-minute information on Green. When her computer pinged with a message from them, she pulled it up just as Feldman leaned over her shoulder to glare at the man on her display and demand, “What have you got?”

  “We’ve got a man who’s too busy to get into mischief,” the Intel officer said. Everything about the officer was crisp, from his black suit jacket buttoned just so, to the clean lay of the black tie against his white shirt. Light in his office bounced off the steel-rimmed glasses he wore, and he didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidated by Feldman, which impressed Dinnie no end.

  “Besides his full course load at Oxford,” Intel continued, “he taught part-time at Strickert Academy, a boarding school for girls. Lived in the teacher’s dorm at Strickert, had a few friends he’d play pool with on weekends, but he didn’t even do that very often. The odd date now and then, but no serious girlfriend.”

  He paused to flip through data displayed at his side, then turned back. “You already know he grew up in Shelton Village. He was friends with a few people that we suspect are rebels, but there’s no indication he’s done anything for them. Hold on, here’s an odd thing ...” he scanned something, then flashed it over to Dinnie’s display. A photograph appeared beside him, of a girl with brown hair pulled tightly behind her head. She stared into the camera with solemn attention, while over her head, the words “Declared Dead,” attracted the viewer’s eye. Dinnie sensed Feldman shifting impatiently behind her.

  “Moira Sherman,” the officer said. “A student at Strickert. She was reported a runaway from her enclave two days ago. They declared her dead a few hours after that.”

  Dinnie shuddered. While it was possible Ms. Sherman was not yet dead, she would be, as soon as someone recognized her.

  “Why do I care?” Feldman asked.

  “Mr. Green is on the list of people to question,” the officer said, unconcerned about Feldman’s bluster. “All her teachers are, so ... no wait, he’s just been updated to Person of Interest.” His eyebrows rose. “Evidently she was TA for Mr. Green, and also worked as his research assistant.” He looked up from the news ticker he was reading. “No doubt they’ll be contacting his supervisor at our Oxford office. However, local security tends to let these cases slide, so they may not be in a hurry.”

  Feldman crossed his arms. “So he likes young girls. It’s not our concern, unless we need to pull strings to keep him out of jail. Personnel can deal with it.”

  Intel tapped another part of his display. “He’s only twenty-two. But sir,” he looked up, “this might have bearing on your search beyond handling the enclave government. Green is not stupid. If he did help the girl escape, say, for instance, he brought her to Belfast, he would know they’d be found out. It might jeopardize his position with Sun, and I don’t get the impression he would want that.” Feldman nodded and Intel continued. “If he’s helping her, his best plan would be to turn her over to someone who could hide her. Sir.” Intel went quiet to let Feldman reach his own conclusion.

  “The rebels,” Feldman said. “But it’s a stretch to think he brought her to Belfast. He’d be smarter to turn her over to someone in Oxford. Check on both possibilities and get back to me.”

  Intel acknowledged and closed the connection. Dinnie was sorry to see him go.

  “Dr. Warner,” Feldman said, and Dinnie jerked in surprise, “given his background, is it possible that Mr. Green knew of the neutrinos before we hired him?”

  “He never reported anything, sir,” she said. Document and report at once was the requirement for anyone working in the field. In Andy Green’s case, he should have reported it to his advisor.

  “That isn’t what I asked.” He moved to her side and leaned against the wall, watching her face. “He’s ambitious. Perhaps he noticed and kept quiet because he wanted credit for a breakthrough.”

  “Oh.” Dinnie ran through a mental image of his personnel file and gave a reluctant nod. “He’s a tenacious researcher, and he had clearance for detectors at Oxford, Belfast, and CERN. In addition, he received regular updates electronically from ten other detectors, as well as NISS.” Her throat closed when she mentioned the space station and she had to cough before she could go on. “It is possible that he saw the original detection in March, before we suppressed it.”

  “Do you have access to the work he was doing this year?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Look it over. While you’re at it, call Intel back and have them send you access to the girl’s work at Strickert. Let’s see if any dots connect.”

  ~~~

  Once inside the warehouse, Andy, Sam, and Sarah found their way blocked by more guards. Panicked, Andy glanced around for Moira, but she was already gone. He did see Karen, standing to the side with Pete and a few other people.

  Karen caught his eye and jerked her head toward a hallway. “There’s a small infirmary up a few floors. Doc has her. He’ll be in touch.” She held up both hands. “I’m sorry, but a search is necessary. Just stay where you are.”

  The guards first ran a scanner over all their equipment, but they showed no particular interest in any of it. At a guard’s request, Andy stepped forward and stood with legs straddled, as another guard first ran a scanner over him, then did a pat down. Sam went next, staring straight ahead with a stoic expression. When the guard approached Sarah, she jerked back, arms tight at her sides. All the guns came to attention, two trained on Sarah, the others on Andy and Sam.

  “Sarah, easy ...” Sam said. His voice was soft. He glanced at Karen, but watched Sarah as he said, “We don’t do this kind of thing on our world. She’s just nervous.”

  Karen nodded. “I understand. But you’re not on your world, and here, we search people.”

  Sarah bit her lip, her face red. “If this is really necessary, I’d prefer it if a woman searched me.”

  Karen glanced at the man standing next to Pete, an Asian whose mixed-Irish blood showed in his red hair and a line of freckles across his nose. He lifted a finger and nodded once, watching Sarah with lively interest. Most of the guns returned to a guarded rest, but one stayed on Sarah, and another one stayed on Sam and Andy. The guard who had approached Sarah stepped back and one of the women came forward with the scanner.

  “All right?” she asked. Sarah nodded, and spread her arms and legs. Her lips trembled, but she made no sound as the guard skimmed the scanner along her right side, then her left. When it reached her left hip, a beep sounded. Sarah jerked, as if preparing to run, and more guns came to bear on her. She went still, arms and legs still straddled. Her hands shook with violent tremors, as she stared at Sam with wild eyes.

  Andy placed a warning hand on Sam’s arm, keeping him in place.

  The guard handed the scanner off. “Empty your pockets, Miss. Slowly.”

  Sarah sniffed, wiping a tear on her shoulder, before moving her hands to the pockets of her cardigan. “I don’t have anything in there,” she said, just before her hand slid inside. Her face went white. Andy was afraid she’d faint, but she stayed upright, bringing her hand back in sight, a tiny computer chip pinched between finger and thumb.

  “That’s not mine,” she whispered, her eyes on the guard, begging to be believed.

  “How did it get in your pocket?”

  “I don’t know. Please believe me, I didn’t know it was there.” She looked at Sam. “I really don’t know.”

  The Asian stepped in front of Sarah and held out his hand. She stared at him, but dropped the chip without any other comment. He turned it over a couple times, lips pursed in thought. Then he gestured to the guard to finish searching Sarah. She did it efficiently, and stepped back, shaking her head.

  He held Sarah’s gaze. “Name and sector?”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “What is your name? Where are you from?”

  “I’m Sarah Andrews. From ... Belfast.” Her chin went
up. “And you are?”

  He bowed slightly. “I am Ned O’Malley. I lead this cell. Now tell me, you are from Belfast, you say. But not from ... this ... Belfast, I understand?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t you elaborate, Miss Andrews.” It wasn’t a question.

  Sarah licked her lips. “I don’t know how much you know or understand about it. We’re from ... a different universe. One that is an offshoot of this one, but there it is 1980.”

  Behind Andy, someone snickered. A few of the guards looked amused. Ned just nodded. “I have been told some of this. We have much to talk about. But first,” he held the chip up. “If this isn’t yours, then someone put it in your pocket. Who?”

  She stared at him. Andy held his breath and kept his hand on Sam. They all watched Sarah.

  Her face relaxed suddenly. “The only person I’ve been around today was Dr. Warner. Well, and Dr. Russell when she came to take out my chip. But I think it was Warner. She came to the lab and showed me a note, telling me that Sam was working on an escape bridge. I don’t know why she was helping us, but she was. When I was on the computer after that, she sat down next to me. She must have done it then.”

  Ned tilted his head. “Dinnie Warner?”

  “Yes. Is she one of your people?”

  He exchanged a glance with Pete, who shrugged. Andy spoke up. “She did help us. She saw what we were doing. She could have turned us in, but instead she told us Feldman’s schedule, and she said she’d make sure that Sarah was ready.”

  “Okay.” Ned gave the chip to Pete. “Check it.”

  Pete moved to a computer near the door. At Ned’s gesture, the guards released Sarah who ran to Sam.

  Andy followed Pete. “Should you insert it in there? What if it carries a virus?”

  “This computer’s isolated from any network. We use it for this kind of thing,” Pete said.

  Ned and Karen approached, shepherding Sam and Sarah ahead of them. Ned looked from one to the other, his appraising glance taking in each of them. The guards lounged back into casual poses, but Andy had no doubt they could pull those guns in lightning time.