He bowed his head, “As you wish.” He and Rapsim went to the wine cellar while the women took their lunch/supper supplies upstairs, remembering to grab the bread on the way. They put everything on the counter then Seren dug out a basket from the pantry for bringing in produce from the garden.
They went outside together and prowled around the neat patch of vegetables.
As she examined and then picked some ripe tomatoes, Reznik asked Seren, “Have you known Daffyd long?”
Seren laughed out loud. “HA! No. We met yesterday down the road a ways. He, uh, he and I aren't from the same world, or time, even. And Devany is from a third place and time. How about you? I notice you and Rapsim have similar uniforms.”
“Rap and I have known each other for, oh, I don't know, about five years, I guess. We got zapped here together yesterday. I was getting ready for a mission; Rap was on board to tell me something and we were walking down one of the corridors, when the ship lurched, he fell, grabbed me, and WHAM! here we were.”
“I was in the parking lot at the grocery store. Only I lurched, and, as you said, ‘WHAM!’ here I was.” She examined a lettuce for slugs or other unwelcome life forms. She looked over at Reznik. “You were on a ship, you said. What kind of mission were you going on? Navy? Marines? What?”
Reznik grimaced. “I'm really not supposed to say, at least, not until after I talk with Rap. I hope you understand.”
“Sure. No problem,” Seren smiled to show she held no ill feelings. “I think we have enough stuff. Let's go make lunch ... supper ... whatever.”
“Lupper?” Reznik suggested. They laughed together, and took another quick look around for anything else that might appeal. Their basket was quite full by this time. They had been tossing in things here and there as they chatted. Now they each grabbed the handle, and carried it back to the house.
When they entered the kitchen, Daffyd was opening the second bottle of wine. “There you are! We wondered where you had gotten to.” Two more bottles stood on the table. A cheerful hum from the pantry indicated Rapsim's location.
“Four bottles of wine? Aren't we going a little overboard?” Seren grinned.
Daffyd raised his eyes to Seren's face without lifting his head. His little smile had an odd twist to it and his eyes held an odd twinkle. “Well, first of all, I don't know if you prefer red or white; we got two of each.” He looked back down at the cork he was pulling free and his smile became a near-grin. “Rapsim tells me the red is quite dry, with an interesting aftertaste, and the white is not quite as dry, but very nice.” The cork slid free with a small ‘pop', Daffyd twisted it free from the corkscrew, his attention apparently devoted to the task. Amusement continued to dance in his eyes.
Seren and Reznik had emptied their harvest basket, putting the tomatoes to one side, and dumping the rest into the sink for rinsing. As Daffyd's words sank in, they turned in unison and stared at him. Rapsim came through the door with a jar of the homemade preserves Seren had looked at yesterday. He had found a stepstool to help him reach the shelves and had examined their contents cursorily. This bottle had caught his eye. He noticed the way Seren and Reznik were staring at Daffyd, and Daffyd's amused expression.
“What am I missing?” he set the jar on the table and twisted the lid off.
The women turned their eyes to him. “I think we're the ones who missed something,” said Seren. “Would you care to explain what you mean, Daffyd?”
He had gone to the cupboards and was searching for wine glasses. “Rap came into the wine cellar with me just now. Aha!” He reached up into a top shelf and carefully lifted down four stemmed glasses. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I was trying to decide how to choose, when he took out a bottle, read the label and gave me his opinion on the wine in question.” He rinsed out the glasses, working around the produce in the sink. “Choosing wine is much easier when you know them, so I took his recommendations.”
Seren and Reznik continued to stare. At length, Reznik turned to Rapsim. She reached over and picked up the bottle of what appeared to be some kind of pickle, and looked at the label. She recognized the peculiar characters of Rapsim's native language. Her eyes and her mouth made O's of surprise. Rapsim smiled brightly up at her, took the jar back, dipped into it to retrieve a morsel and crunched it happily.
“I love these,” he informed them. “Pickled arda. Like beets. They're one of my favorites. If you want to know what anything is back there, just ask. It looks like my mother's store room, only the shelves are higher here.”
“I'll have some of that white wine, now, Daffyd, please,” said Seren. She sank into one of the two big chairs. He dried a glass, filled it and set it in front of her. Then he raised enquiring eyebrows at the others.
“Yes, please,” said Reznik. Rapsim nodded, his mouth full of the pickled arda. Daffyd poured white wine for the others, and a glass of red for himself. They looked at each other. Seren smiled wryly, and lifted her glass in a toast.
“Here's to ... mysteries that never end!” she said at last. She sipped at her wine, the others acknowledged the sentiment and also tasted their drinks. Rapsim nodded at his approvingly, as if it were what he had expected. The others, uncertain what to expect, were all pleasantly surprised.
“This is good!” Seren exclaimed. “And just what the doctor ordered, too. Now, if I just had a clue about what's going on, I would be so much happier. Oh, well. Right now, I guess we should get our act together, if we want to eat.” She put the wine down, rose, and stood for a moment, trying to think how best to proceed with the meal preparation. The others waited. “Gerri, could you start with the veggies, and Daffyd, do you think you could slice that salami thing nice and thin? Great. And Rapsim, maybe you could raid the pantry some more, find us some other yummies to go with salami and cheese sandwiches.”
Everyone turned to his or her assigned chores. Seren opened a loaf of the still-frozen bread, separated the slices, fanning them out on a plate that she put in the warming oven. It was really almost too warm to have the stove going, but there was no microwave oven and no other way to thaw the bread quickly. Then she took the wheel of what she hoped was cheese, and found a sharp knife and a second cutting board. Daffyd had claimed the first and was busy making the thin slices Seren had asked for. To Seren's delight, the cheese, for such it was, proved to be the perfect counterpoint to the spicy meat. She found this out by pilfering a piece from under Daffyd's hands and sampling the two items together.
Rapsim reappeared with a few more jars and bottles. He passed one to Seren. “I think you'll like this,” he said. “It's a lot like mayonnaise; it should go well with the salami.”
Daffyd had gone through half the meat, and now had a sizable pile of paper-thin wafers in front of him. “Is this enough?” he asked Seren. She glanced over, nodded briskly and reached for it. He left it in her capable hands and turned to help Reznik. Seren assembled an enormous plateful of sandwiches; salami and cheese, tomato and lettuce, and various other combinations. Plates joined the wine glasses on the table. A selection of raw vegetables, pickles, and condiments rounded out the meal. They all sat gratefully to their feast, suddenly realizing how hungry they were.
While the other three helped themselves enthusiastically to the sandwiches, Daffyd took one and quietly examined it. He lifted the bread, looked at the filling, an interested frown furrowing his brow. Seren watched him with curious amusement.
She nibbled a carrot stick and said, “Something wrong, Daffyd? You look like you've never seen a sandwich before.”
“Hmmmm?” he looked over at her. “A sand witch? That's an odd name.” He peered at it some more, wondering how in the world this blend of bread and meat and cheese came to be known as a ‘sand witch'. “And no, I have never seen one before.”
The others stared, Reznik with her own sandwich just between her teeth. Rapsim gazed and chewed. Seren tapped another carrot stick on her plate. Daffyd continued to examine the construct, oblivious to their reactions.
He had on
ly been peripherally aware of her preparing the food but had been busy himself, helping Reznik chop the vegetables, getting down plates for Rapsim to use setting the table. Now, however, he had the time to examine closely what she had done. It was a marvel of simplicity. He wondered why no one in his world had ever thought of it.
As he reassembled it, he glanced around at his companions. “I've had all these items separately,” he said. “I've had cheese in a salad, or an omelet. But I've never seen anything like this.” He took a tentative bite and chewed slowly. His eyebrows drew together as he sorted through the tastes. The others watched in varying degrees of amusement.
“It's quite good,” he announced after another bite. “But where did it get such a peculiar name? A sand witch?”
Seren laughed. “No, not a ‘sand witch'. A sandwich. S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H. Named after the Earl of Sandwich. Apparently he was in a hurry one day and slapped some roast beef between two slabs of bread, and hey, presto! The ‘sandwich’ was born.”
“Fascinating.” He helped himself to more. As they ate, Rapsim cast meaningful glances at Reznik. She caught them and subvocalized back to him, using the transceivers which each of them had implanted below their left ears.
You want to tell them what we know? Where we're from? she asked.
Yes. I think they deserve at least that much.
Seren has already told me they know that they're not from the same world. Go ahead, Rap.
Rapsim cleared his throat. “Rez and I have some things to tell you both,” he began. Seren and Daffyd looked at him.
“First of all, Rez tells me you've already found out that you're not from the same world, and that Devany is from yet another. That's good. Now, Rez and I are from your reality, Seren. In fact, Rez is from Earth. I am not.” He waited for this tidbit to sink in. Seren merely lifted her eyebrows in mild surprise, but Daffyd stared in frank disbelief. Rapsim grinned. “It's quite true, Daffyd. I'm from a planet most Terrans have never heard of, and actually, despite what appearances may suggest, I'm not a very short human, but a rather tall dral.”
“A what?” said Daffyd, skepticism still evident in his look.
“A dral. It's what my people are called. There are humans from Earth, rusae from Poltar, dral from Keriald. We look quite a bit like humans but we don't have the same genetic make-up.”
“And don't forget to mention that Earth isn't the only human world,” interjected Reznik around a mouthful of sandwich. Seren stared at her in open amazement.
“But, how...?” Seren's voice trailed off. “Just go ahead, Rap. I'm going to shut up, and try to take this all in. But if my head explodes, it's because my brain overloaded, okay?” She shook her head, wondering just how much one mind could hold without burning out in a spectacular blaze of mental fireworks.
Rapsim reached across the table and patted her hand. “It's all right, Seren. Really. Rez is right, though. There are a lot of human worlds, and each one thinks it is either the only one, or the original one. No one knows where human beings started, but they've spread across the galaxy like dandelions.” He grinned again. “You're a prolific species,” he said. “In any case, there are many different species on many different worlds, and then there are the parallel realities.”
“Okay, stop there,” said Daffyd. “Parallel realities?” He was now completely out of his range of experience and imagination. Seren came to his rescue.
“He means universes that co-exist side by side, not touching or overlapping. There's a theory in my reality that every decision that could be made in a given situation was made somewhere, creating an alternate reality to the one that we know. That's why your world and mine and Devany's are similar, but still very different. Some major event in the past took a different path, so events that followed one wouldn't have occurred in the others. So Devany's world is institutionalized to the extreme, while yours and mine are more alike. You see?” She sipped at her wine. Daffyd struggled with the concepts. The others ate quietly for a few minutes, watching the external display on Daffyd's features of the internal processing of this information.
Finally, he decided that what they were telling him made as much sense as anything else that had happened since yesterday morning. He looked at each of their faces, ending with Seren. He stared into her dark eyes for a long moment, looking for signs of mockery or deceit. He saw only a gentle compassion that made him want to reach out to her for comfort. When she took his hand and squeezed it, he didn't immediately withdraw. To Seren's surprise and delight, his fingers closed over hers and returned the pressure first. He was more grateful for her gesture than he could have said.
“Assuming all this is so, and that we're all from different, yet parallel, realities, how did we all end up here, and whose reality is this?” he asked.
Rapsim grimaced. “This is the part I didn't want to get to. I don't know this reality.” He pulled out the multi and put it on the table. They stared at it. “This handy little gadget has information on a myriad alternate worlds. But not this one. It doesn't look like the Recruits have ever been here before.” He looked at Daffyd. “It recognizes your quantum signature, which means we know your universe, but I don't have anything on your Earth.”
“What's a ‘quantum signature'?” asked Daffyd.
“It's the frequency your molecules vibrate at,” explained Rapsim. “Each reality has a slightly different reading. It's how we track where we are, and where we belong. The Recruits get around,” he grinned.
“Okay,” Seren said. “My turn. Who, or what, are the Recruits?”
Reznik waved her hand. “I get to answer this one!” She put her glass down, cleared her throat, and recited, “'The Galactic Recruits are an interplanetary exploration, scientific and paramilitary organization under the umbrella of the Pan-Galactic Confederation of Sentient Beings.'”
“Basically, we wander around the multiverse, which is what we call the multitude of universes, providing support to the colony planets, exploring worlds, making contact with previously unknown species and civilizations, patrolling borders, all that good stuff. It's quite an extensive organization, really.” She glanced at Rapsim, who nodded to her to continue. She did. “I've only been on missions in my own reality, but I know Rap's been to several others. It's not an uncommon practice. The Recruits are sort of spreading through the realities, tying them together in a way. It's interesting work.”
“I'm lost again,” said Daffyd. “Are you saying you travel through space; go to the stars?” He shook his head. “It's not possible. At least, not on my world. They've never been able to perfect an airtight ship that could withstand the temperatures and vacuum of space. They've tried, with some very ugly results, I might add.”
“It's quite common on other planets, and on other Earths,” said Rapsim. “I'm surprised your scientists haven't managed yet.”
Daffyd shrugged. “I suppose it's not a high priority. After all, what's out there?” He laughed bitterly. “The powers-that-be are more interested in putting up satellites to boost communication, and to spy on other countries. Maybe they should be looking outward.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead wearily. “What you're telling me is so ... unbelievable, but I'm forced to believe it, anyway. Do you know what that's doing to my sanity? I can feel it slipping away.” He stood abruptly. “I have to go be alone for a while. I'll be back later, when I've had a chance to assimilate all this.” He smiled grimly at them. “Ladies, Rapsim, please excuse me.”
They watched him as he went out the kitchen door to the back yard. Seren bit at her lip, torn between her desire to go with him and offer him whatever comfort he would accept from her and the knowledge that he wanted solitude. They sat silently after he was gone.
Seren spoke first. “Something tells me he hasn't read a lot of Science Fiction.” She sipped at her wine, then drained the glass and refilled it. “Okay. Back to boldly going ... I feel like I'm trapped in one of those dimension-hopping shows, like ‘Sliders’ or something. I really, really hate this,
I want you to know.” They nodded sympathetically. “Every time I turn around there's some weird new development ... like the labels in the pantry and on the wine being in Rapsim's language ... what's that all about? No wonder Daffyd feels like he's going insane. If my kids hadn't already driven me there, I would be, too.”
Reznik laughed at that, and even Rapsim smiled.
Seren continued, “Can I ask you some more questions?”
Rapsim nodded.
“All righty then. The reality that we're in right now ... is there any chance of contacting the Recruits?” she lifted hopeful eyebrows over the rim of her wineglass.
“Not without a power source to boost the multi's output,” replied Rapsim. “This universe isn't in the catalogue, I'm afraid. That means that the Recruits have never been here before, so there's no Headquarters, or Substation, to contact.”
“Fine. What are our chances of finding a power source? How big a power source?”
Rapsim shrugged eloquently. “I'm not certain, but there's always hope. There's a fluctuating field around this house that may prove useful or at least interesting. I'm planning on trying to track it down later. P'haps I can find out what's causing it, and that may lead us to what we need.”
“Good. Okay. That's better than nothing. Now, you said that each of us is vibrating at our universe's frequency, right? Is there any danger in us interacting with each other ... I mean, you and I are from the same reality, that's not a problem. But what about Daffyd and Devany? The different frequencies won't interfere with each other or anything?”
“Oh, no. The difference is extremely slight. In fact, a person from one reality can comfortably live in any other. We Recruits do it all the time. Sometimes, a person's universe can be very inimical to that individual, so we just transfer him or her or it to an alternate one. We do a cover-up on the home planet to explain the disappearance, and they're all set.”
Wheels began to turn in Seren's mind. “What about on the new world? Can you change things there so the person fits in?”
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