“I’m saying it would take billions of dollars and technology that’s never been tested, so yes, I’m saying there’s no way to stop it.”
I slumped in my chair as I stared at the computer screen. Four months ago, I’d been at the mercy of an ancient goddess as she’d used my powers to set an asteroid on a collision course for Earth. I’d tried to find a way to stop the stupid rock with magic, but no luck. My second choice was science. Surely NASA could stop a little space rock, right? Wrong. But I wasn’t giving up just yet.
“But what if every country came together and pooled their money and resources? Would it be possible then?” I asked.
Dr. Jackson scratched his stubble-covered chin. I was sure he must have been debating my sanity. I’d been pestering him for months about meeting with him. I imagined he’d finally agreed to meet with me just to get me off his back.
“Assuming you could miraculously get the world’s countries to work together, as well as pool their money and resources together, and then launch some sort of missile that would alter the course of a massive asteroid, then it might be possible. But that’s assuming you could even convince them that 511 D is a threat to Earth. And it isn’t,” he said.
“That’s not true. You said two of the computer models showed it could collide with Earth.”
“Two scenarios out of hundreds,” he said. “And that’s only assuming something alters its trajectory.”
Something or someone. Someone like me. But if I told him I would be the one to change its course, my sanity status would plummet. Well, more than it already had.
“Look,” he said. “I realize an asteroid headed for Earth can make you feel uncomfortable, but honestly, this isn’t worth panicking over. You have nothing to worry about.”
I studied the computer. Hundreds of blue lines crossed the screen between the green dot representing Earth, indicating the space rock would clear the planet’s orbit and go happily on its way out into oblivion, but two red lines showed it headed straight for Earth.
“How long until it reaches our orbit?”
“I can’t say for sure. Calculating its speed is a bit tricky since we’re not even sure what made the asteroid go rogue in the first place. My best guess is around two weeks.”
“Two weeks? But it only left the asteroid belt four months ago. Do asteroids usually move that fast?”
He cocked his head. “How do you know when it left the asteroid belt? Nobody knows that.”
“Oh, well…” I hated scrambling for answers—hated lying even more. “I’ve got an interest in the asteroid belt, that’s all. My mom gave me her old Astroscan telescope when I was a teenager and I’ve been mapping the asteroids ever since.” At least some of that was partially true. Mom had given me her telescope. I’d glossed over the fact that it had been gathering dust in my closet ever since. “I happened to notice one of the larger asteroids…” I glanced at the computer screen, “511 D, leave its orbit about four months ago.”
Dr. Jackson scrutinized me. Behind the large lenses of his glasses, his eyes looked menacing. “You know, I’ve heard of you,” he said. “Aren’t you that doctor?”
I paused before speaking. “Yeah, I’m that doctor.”
“Yes, I thought it was you. Helping people who’ve visited Fairy World. Never failed to cure a client. Is that stuff serious?”
“Well—”
“It doesn’t sound very scientific, does it?”
“Actually, it’s very scientific if you think about it. Alternate realities have been theorized for centuries—even Einstein believed they were possible—and he was right. Our world split from Faythander sixty-five million years ago, in an event similar to the one that could possibly happen now. Faythander formed with magic, but our world didn’t. We had dinosaurs and humans, while they have dragons, elves, and pixies. So yes, it’s technically very scientific.”
He gave me a halfhearted smile. “But it’s never been researched, has it?”
“It’s been researched by me. Does that count?”
He tapped his desk. “And how did you research this? With your mom’s decades-old telescope? One that doesn’t even have the ability to see past Mars with any clarity worth mentioning and would have no ability whatsoever to see individual asteroids?”
He’d gotten me on that one.
“Miss Kennedy, I’m sorry you wasted your lunch hour coming out here to speak with me. It’s unfortunate I don’t have better news. It looks like our world will be safe from an asteroid attack of apocalyptic proportions. Sadly, that’s the truth. I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”
I wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. “Let’s just say something did happen to alter its trajectory. What kind of destruction could we expect?”
“It depends on a few things. The speed of its entry, its trajectory, and the location of where it impacts can all make a difference. But with an asteroid this size, it would no doubt wipe out at least ninety percent of all living species on the planet.”
“Ninety percent? And that doesn’t make you at least a little nervous?”
He gave me a condescending smile. “My ex-wife makes me nervous. This?” He waved his hand at the screen. “This is not worth worrying about.”
Strike out for me. Neither magic nor science could do anything to stop the asteroid.
“I can show you out if you’d like,” he said, standing. I stood with him. He escorted me out of his office and through the building. When we reached the door leading outside, he pushed it open for me. “Do you need directions back to the parking lot?”
“No, I’ll figure it out. Thank you for your time,” I said.
“Of course.”
I exited the science building and walked onto the campus. Dogwood trees, with their pink and white blossoms, bloomed along the shaded path. Although I was certain I’d never find a place as breathtaking as Faythander, springtime in Texas made a close contender. Daffodils with frilly white and yellow petals grew along the sidewalk, and yellow jasmine scented the air.
But as I looked at the spring-like scene, all I could think about was how desolate this place would become after the asteroid’s impact.
For the last several months, the looming arrival of that cursed asteroid had been plaguing me to no end. I was surprised I hadn’t suffered a nervous breakdown.
I walked toward the tram as the wind gusted, bringing with it the scent of rain. My red-tinted dark hair battered my cheeks, so I tucked the short strands behind the pointed tips of my ears. The former pixie cut had grown out and was now considered a bob. One would think that with all the time I’d spent on Earth, I would have gone in for another haircut by now, but no such luck. Beggars couldn’t afford haircuts. I’d learned that the hard way.
The tram ran the length of NASA’s campus, connecting the main attractions for visitors with the science and technology labs. As I waited in line for the next tram to arrive, I pondered my conversation with Dr. Jackson. I felt helpless to do anything to stop the event that would end in the destruction of the world. My hope would be lost altogether if I didn’t have one last resort—the sword of Dracon.
Silvestra, the silverwitch dragon of Dragon Spine Mountain, had told us the location of the sword. It was in another world, separate from Earth and Faythander, a third world where bad things came from. She’d also told us we had to wait to cross through the portal until the spring equinox, when the dark magic fueling the portal would be at its weakest. Tonight, if my luck held out, I would return to Faythander and go on a quest with the Wults to retrieve the sword.
But since there had been several months before the equinox, I’d spent my time on Earth catching up on responsible adult things—paying utility bills, reaching out to a growing list of clients, and eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in front of the TV while I pined over my missing fiancé.
You know, adult things.
I’d had to, once again, leave my Viking warlord fiancé. I hated leaving him. It felt like I’d left a piece
of myself. But the trouble was that I still hadn’t figured out how to balance my life on Earth with my life in Faythander. If I gave up my Earth life, it meant a countless number of people would go undiagnosed and live the rest of their lives in a state of depression. It didn’t matter how dangerously handsome that Viking brute was, or how much I’d been smitten by him, because I wouldn’t leave my patients behind.
However, tomorrow was the spring equinox and—assuming I could make it back to Faythander—my time on Earth was about to end. The thought of seeing Kull again frightened and excited me. He’d asked me to marry him and I’d agreed, but that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was proof that I wasn’t ready to be the wife of a Wult king. Wult culture baffled me. I was hated by almost all his people, and it didn’t help that I was half-elven. Despite my fears, Kull expected me to return before the equinox, and I would do everything in my power to make it back to him in one piece.
The tram arrived, a boxy-looking thing with several connected cars that rode along the rails from one end of the campus to the other. When my turn came, I climbed onto the open platform and stepped inside a car, putting my fears aside. I knew I was doing the right thing by marrying Kull. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. If I happened to drive a wedge between the Wult people and their king, possibly starting a civil war that would end in Kull losing the throne and the destruction of an entire group of people, then so be it.
Worse things could happen.
Chances were that we were all about to be charred to a crisp by a massive, flaming asteroid. If so, none of it would matter anyway.
I was all about positive thinking.
The ride across campus took us past a replica space shuttle mounted atop a Boeing jumbo jet, an impressive feat of engineering that towered over the other buildings on the grounds. After exiting the tram, I made my way through the maze of buildings and finally found Beast, my newly nicknamed Thunderbird, yellow with black stripes down the sides, that hailed from the time of bell-bottom pants and disco music. I climbed inside, cranked the engine on the second try, and drove away from NASA.
An hour later, after finally making it back to my apartment, I walked across the cracked asphalt parking lot toward my building. A stiff breeze brought the salty scent of the sea. Across from my apartment complex, I spotted the Gulf of Mexico. The water was brown today, as it had been for most of the winter. Soon, with the arrival of spring, I was hopeful the silt-laden currents from the Mississippi River would shift, bringing in the clearer waters from the south, turning the ocean blue once again.
It was the little things I looked forward to.
My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket. Dr. Hill’s number appeared on the screen, and I answered it.
“You’re late,” he said.
Drat. I’d totally forgotten he’d wanted to meet with me. “Sorry. I got caught up with some work stuff at NASA. I’m on my way.”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I can stop by your apartment on my way home. Be there in a few minutes if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure, it’s fine,” I lied. My apartment was a wreck. I hoped he didn’t mind clutter. “Come whenever you like.”
I ended the call, rushing up the stairs to my door. After I unlocked it, I went inside, shutting the door behind me. Turning, I almost tripped over Han Solo, my cat, who stood at my ankles. I knelt and patted his head as I scanned my apartment-turned-workshop. I’d attempted to make a new mirror box with little success. Failed attempts sat on every available surface. From a gutted music box, glue guns, wooden craft boxes of various sizes, and several small mirrors, my place was a mess. It would have helped if I had an actual workshop, but I made do. Just hadn’t planned to have company over.
Gathering the collected items, I shoved a few boxes inside the cupboards and stashed the mirrors under the table. As I worked, I couldn’t help but wish I had my old mirror back. Nothing I created now felt right—not the way my old one had felt—almost like it had been an old friend.
My former mirror case had been destroyed by elves. I still had trouble coming to terms with what had happened that night. The elven queen had enacted a ritual that brought an ancient goddess, Theht, back to our world. And she’d killed one of my friends to do it.
The only positive thing to come of it was that the queen hadn’t fully taken control of the goddess yet. If she had, I would no longer be here.
Replacing my mirror case had been harder than I’d thought. The odd thing was nothing I’d created actually worked. I’d attempted to open a portal several times and failed. I could only assume the impending arrival of the asteroid must’ve been affecting my magic. In a last-ditch effort, I’d finally settled on something that was extremely temporary, but I hadn’t even tested it yet. Wasn’t sure if it would work, either.
I’d just stashed the last box under the counter when a knock sounded at the door. I crossed the room and opened it to find Dr. Hill on the other side.
He stood tall as he straightened his bow tie, the afternoon sun glowing on his deep brown skin. The man had an air of refinement about him. With his pressed Armani suit and graying hair along his temples, Dr. Hill fit the definition of distinguished in every possible way. Although I considered him a friend, I would always feel self-conscious around him, especially in my current attire of a Nirvana T-shirt, jean shorts, and bare feet with chipped black polish on my toenails.
“Hi, Dr. Hill. Come in and sit down,” I said.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked. “I’ve got… Well, there’s water. I can put ice in it if you’d like.” Curses. Why didn’t I ever keep lemonade on hand?
“No, but thank you, Olive. I’m actually in a bit of hurry.” He took his customary seat on the sofa across from me. My cat mewled from his spot on the counter, and Dr. Hill cast him a sidelong glance. Those two had never been fond of one another.
“So what’s up?” I asked him.
“Well,” he said, pulling a slim laptop from his briefcase. “I’ve actually come with good news this time.”
“Really? That’s a first.”
“Yes, I know. But I really thought you should see this. I wanted to show you in person.” He clicked a few buttons and then turned the computer to face me. Zack Zimmerman, a weatherman and recent client of mine, appeared on the screen.
I watched a minute-long clip of Zack’s weather report. At the end, he gave a brief shout-out to me. “…I wanted to give a huge thanks to Dr. Olive Kennedy. Without her, I wouldn’t be here giving you this forecast today. Have a great weekend, everyone.”
The video ended.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“No offense, but really? I mean, it’s nice that he thanked me, but couldn’t you have just texted me the link or something?”
“Ah, yes, but you see, that was only the beginning. Here, watch this one.” He clicked a few more buttons before spinning the screen to face me. Zack Zimmerman appeared on the screen once again in an interview with a local news anchor, Tracy McKennick.
“I didn’t believe in Fairy World at first either,” Zack said, “but when I started having all those symptoms Dr. Kennedy talked about, I knew there had to be something to it. I mean, I was having real problems, things that affected my life. I didn’t want to live anymore.”
“What changed?” Tracy asked.
“Well, Dr. Kennedy helped me. She didn’t just give me pills and tell me to deal with it—she actually cured me. She showed me the truth of my past. I guess that’s what I want people to understand. Sure, her claims are hard to believe at first, but once you understand what she’s offering, she’ll make a difference in your life. She did in mine.”
The video clip ended. “Look at this,” Dr. Hill said. “This is what I really wanted to show you. Look how many views.” He scrolled down and pointed to a number on the screen. My mouth gaped.
“Half a million views? Are you se
rious?”
“Yes, and this was just posted a few weeks ago.”
My head spun. I’d being struggling to find clients for years. More importantly, I’d wanted people to take me seriously. It was finally happening. And the timing couldn’t have been worse.
“I haven’t even told you the best news yet,” Dr. Hill said. “This morning, I opened my email to find almost three hundred requests for your services. That’s phenomenal, Olive. Unheard of, really. It’s certainly never happened before.”
“Wow. I’m sort of speechless.”
“I thought you might be.” He closed his laptop with a click, then looked up at me. “When can I schedule the first session? You’re going to be very busy, so I thought we should start scheduling appointments now.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. “See, the thing is, I’m going out of the country again. I’m leaving tonight.”
“Tonight?”
I nodded.
“But you can’t leave now.”
“I know, but I have to. If I don’t leave now, really bad things will happen.”
“What sort of things?”
I cleared my throat. “Like world-ending things.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m really sorry, but I can’t do this. I have to go, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Possibly never.”
“Olive, you can’t be serious.”
“I wish I weren’t.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Getting clients and sorting out this business has been your only goal since I met you. You’re more determined and focused than anyone I’ve ever worked with before. You’ve worked too hard just to quit now.”
“I’m not quitting. You’re right. I’m determined to see my clients get the help they need, no matter what, but some things are more important.” Like stopping that asteroid.
Silence filled the room.
“Well,” Dr. Hill said. “This certainly comes as a surprise.” I heard the disappointment in his voice. “You know how important this is, and not just for your career, but for all those people out there who need help—the kind of help only you can give them.”
Fairy World M.D., Boxed Set Two (4-6.5) Page 41