Fatal Green

by The Brothers Washburn

  Seated cross-legged on the floor, Agent Kline stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  It was Lenny, however, who responded. “No, no! We can do this.” He waved at the pieces on the floor. “Dude, this is so awesome. Even if we don’t know what every piece is or what it does, we can deduce where it goes and how it all fits together.” He smiled, his enthusiasm infectious.

  Camm glanced at Agent Kline for confirmation.

  He nodded his head. “We’ve already made more progress than I had thought possible. I’m sure we’ll be able to put the clock back together. But, since we don’t entirely understand how the clock works, we won’t know if it actually does work until we try it.”

  Cal pulled Camm away. “Let’s get out of their way, so they can do their job.”

  “No, wait!” Lenny signaled Cal over to his side. “Look at this.” He pointed to a large, solid metal wheel. Dozens of grooves radiated out from a square hole in the center to the circumferential edge. Lenny picked it up and handed it to Cal, who almost dropped it.

  “Wow, this is a lot heavier than it looks.”

  “Right!” Lenny exclaimed. “It’s clearly made of something much heavier than iron or steel. But it is cast in the same way cast iron is made. See these lines that are radial from a central point?”

  Cal nodded, giving Lenny a look of tolerant patience as Lenny continued his explanation.

  “There are thirty-six of them, each one exactly every ten degrees. See these two grooves here, next to each other?” Lenny pointed and Cal continued to nod.

  “See how these two are worn and the rest are not worn at all? One is set at zero degrees and the other at ten degrees. I think zero degrees is the setting for our world in our dimension, and the other worn groove at ten degrees is the setting for the alternate world we just came back from.”

  Cal smiled, neither indicating that he understood or didn’t understand.

  Lenny peered closer at Cal, gauging his reaction. “Do you see what that means?”

  Cal didn’t answer, but raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  “Dude! There are thirty-six radiating lines. If one is for our own world and one for the alternate Searles Valley world that means this clock could send someone to another thirty-four different alternate worlds. That’s thirty-four different three-dimensional realities within the same four-dimensional system. We have just barely scratched the surface of what is possible with this system of clocks and mansions. Who knows what kinds of worlds we could have access to!”

  Cal glanced over at Agent Kline, who nodded, but held up a hand as a sign of caution.

  “Hypothetically, Lenny, hypothetically,” he said. “We’re still just trying to figure this all out. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This could be more powerful than we know, which means it could be more dangerous than we know. Let’s take baby steps before we run.”

  Still grinning enthusiastically, Lenny took a breath to speak.

  Camm grabbed Cal by the elbow, pulling him away. “You’re right. We should let them get back to work. We don’t want to interrupt their train of thought.”

  Cal replaced the heavy metal wheel in its place on the floor and the two of them left.

  Lenny turned to Agent Kline. “Once we get this put back together, we need to figure out how to set the clock to the other dimensional realities, you know, the thirty-four other worlds. We will be able to explore other worlds, alien worlds, and we won’t need to fly through endless light-years of empty space to get there. Just think what we could discover!”

  Agent Kline smiled indulgently. “First, let’s get this clock put back together. Then, we’ll see if we can get it working again without bringing that giant Mojave Green, or some other predator that is even worse, down on top of us. And . . .” He paused, considering his next words carefully, “And then, we’ll see what we do from there. Remember, baby steps first. Okay?”

  Lenny nodded happily. “Dude!” Like a child with a new toy, he bent to study the pieces he had been organizing around his feet. Agent Kline returned to work as well, successfully fitting several pieces together that he had just scavenged from the floor.

  At that moment, three black SUVs, with shaded windows and government license plates, pulled up to the mansion. Men in dark suits, dark glasses, and white shirts poured out of the vehicles and gathered in a huddle around one large, heavy-set man, who pointed at different locations around the mansion as he rattled off quick instructions to the others.

  * * *

  Agent Allen was worried, her face pinched with concern. The sun had slid low in the west, but her attention was riveted on the weather in the south. Using a large handkerchief, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and the back of her neck. The moisture in the atmosphere hung heavy, which made breathing the hot air difficult. The level of humidity was highly unusual.

  Also looking south, studying the barren landscape of the alternate world, Mr. S walked up next to where Agent Allen stood behind the mansion. Before he could speak, she pointed above the southern mountains. “Look at that.”

  He squinted toward the horizon. Black, boiling nimbus-cumulus clouds rolled in their direction. Every few seconds, white-hot light leapt out from between the billows. Beneath the angry storm clouds, dusty streaks of dense rain swept across the desert floor.

  Mr. S rubbed his chin and turned to Agent Allen. “Fascinating, isn’t it? Have you ever been in a desert thunderstorm before?”

  Without averting her gaze, she shook her head slowly. “I didn’t know deserts had thunderstorms.” As if they were an invading hoard, the darkened clouds continued to advance.

  “Oh yes. Certainly. Not very often, but a desert like this one, every once in a while, will have a good, hard thunderstorm.”

  Distant peals of thunder became audible. The air reeked of ozone.

  “Humph.” The FBI agent still faced the oncoming atmospheric onslaught. She wiped her forehead again. “That looks like quite a storm.”

  “Ahhh, yes.” Mr. S agreed. “It looks to be a real doozy.”

  * * *

  Camm sat on the second to last step of the wide, sweeping staircase, an unhappy expression carved across her face. She had earned the right to be involved in important decisions. She did not appreciate being relegated to the sidelines or treated like a child. A small army of NSA agents had shown up unexpectedly, barging into the mansion intent on taking control of the situation.

  The federal types were on the far side of the main hall involved in a fierce discussion with Granny and Agent Kline. Camm couldn’t hear what was being said, but from the tone of everyone’s voices, she could tell the exchange was heated. She, Cal, and Martha sat on the steps waiting for whatever outcome the discussions would bring. Lenny, totally oblivious to everything else going on, remained focused on putting the grandfather clock back together. Politics didn’t interest him.

  Patience was not a virtue Camm possessed. Deciding enough was enough, she abruptly stood and marched across the hall. Cal and Martha scurried to keep up, exchanging worried looks.

  “What is she doing?” Martha mouthed to Cal, who shrugged helplessly.

  As Camm reached the other side, Granny, Agent Kline and the group of men in dark suits stopped arguing long enough to look her way in annoyance.

  Before anyone could speak, Camm held up her hand, palm forward, and exclaimed to no one in particular, “I’m just going to the kitchen for a snack.” As she passed through the doorway to the dining room, she added, “If you don’t mind!”

  Once in the kitchen, Camm showed no interest in finding something to eat. Of course, Cal went to work fixing himself a snack. While Cal searched through the fridge and cupboards, pulling out bread, cold cuts, mustard, mayonnaise, hot sauce, chips, pickles, cookies, milk, lettuce, fruits, and anything else that looked edible, Martha followed Camm, who nervously paced back and forth.

&
nbsp; “I thought you wanted a snack?” Martha gave Camm a cautious smile.

  Camm was annoyed, but not at Martha, so she relaxed a little. “I either had to go over to that group of dimwits and start knocking heads together, or make up an excuse to get out of the room.”

  Martha nodded her head gravely. “I’ve seen you knock heads before. Trust me, you made the right choice.” They both laughed. “What do you think is going on?”

  Camm shrugged her shoulders. “This appears to be a new bunch of feds, trying to take over this operation. After all we have been through, these guys think they can waltz in and start running the show. Without Misters C or S here, they figure they can just walk all over the original team of agents. And you can be sure they won’t give Cal and me the time of day, like we’re too dumb to know what’s going on.” Camm pounded a fist on the counter. “This really fries me!”

  “I don’t know Camm. Let’s wait and see. I don’t think anybody is going to be walking all over Granny, or Agent Kline either. You know what I mean?”

  Camm shrugged helplessly. “I guess.”

  Gazing anxiously around, Camm couldn’t shake the need to do something. Before she did something foolish, she figured she’d better find a way to burn off her frustrated energy. “I need some fresh air.” With that, Camm marched out the back door with Martha close on her heels.

  The air was heavy with the scent of water. Camm’s gaze was drawn to the South. Touching Martha on the shoulder, she pointed her in that direction. “Look, here comes a desert thunderstorm. A really big, desert thunderstorm.”

  * * *

  Brilliant white light came in rapid bursts through the bedroom windows, lighting up everything in the mansion’s main hall. The air sizzled, crackled, and smelled of burnt ozone. Intermingled with the light were booming explosions of thunder, which shook the mansion and echoed across the valley. Mercilessly, rain hammered the roof tiles, windowsills and windows.

  “I’m glad this place is made of heavy stones and is water tight.” Agent Allen surveyed the walls and ceilings as if she wasn’t entirely sure that it was.

  Mr. S also glanced around. Not seeing any leaks, he replied, “Me too.”

  “You know, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Agent Allen hesitated as another series of violent flashes and booms burst upon them, static electricity cracking.

  Mr. S raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

  “One night, not long after midnight, I stood at the second story window of my motel room in Ridgecrest gazing up at the full moon. I saw a phenomenon in the sky above Trona that I don’t understand, that I can’t explain.”

  “A phenomenon in the sky?”

  “Yes. It was like a shimmering, undulating rip in the atmosphere, like a big hole in space.”

  “A rip in the atmosphere? A hole in space?”

  “I said it was hard to explain. I could see the clear sky above Trona, but there was a tear in that sky. I could see an alien sky through that tear, a different sky with its own moon and stars.

  “Here, let me show you.” Agent Allen pulled out her cell phone and started the video playback for Mr. S to watch. He stiffened, holding his breath as he watched the alien moon appear and disappear. When the video ended, he exhaled, but continued to stare at the phone.

  “See that?” Agent Allen pointed at the phone. “It’s like a rip or tear in space.”

  Mr. S looked up. “After coming to this world, Cal and I saw a similar phenomenon in this world’s atmosphere. We could see an alien sky, but had no way of knowing whether that sky peeking through the tear belonged to our earth or to a whole new world in a different dimension.”

  “Okay . . .” Agent Allen nodded slowly. “Agent Kline said there are countless worlds in an infinite number of overlapping dimensions, which touch in a specific area of each world that is similar to the Searles Valley region of our own earth.”

  Mr. S stroked his chin. “I think Agent Kline is correct. What we each saw was an atmospheric transition between the world we were in and another world in a different dimension.

  “However, we believe it takes a substantial energy catalyst of some kind to trigger an atmospheric transition on such a large scale. For example, the energy released by supersonic aircraft traveling across the sky might cause an atmospheric transition.”

  Agent Allen frowned. “How about the energy created by this thunderstorm?”

  “Thunderstorms generate a lot of energy. If there were thunderstorms in the same areas of two worlds at the same time, I think there would be a significant chance of something more than the usual transition. For example, something like a bilateral hyper-transitional event might be possible.”

  Agent Allen’s frown deepened. “Bilateral hyper-transitional event? What does that mean?”

  “I’ve never witnessed one, so I don’t know. But, instead of a brief transition, the two worlds would come together as one in the area where the thunderstorms overlapped. Our world wouldn’t just open into the other world, or visa verse, but the focal point of the storms would unify the separate worlds into one and the same world, at least for the duration of the storms. Maybe longer.”

  Agent Allen’s eyes narrowed. This did not sound good. “What would that even look like?”

  “I have no idea, but the potential ramifications are staggering. Let’s hope another thunderstorm is not building, as we speak, back in Trona in our own world.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Agent Allen stiffened, twisting her head about. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Mr. S tilted his head, also listening.

  “That loud ticking noise.”

  “I hear it now. It sounds like the grandfather clock has started ticking.”

  Agent Allen stared wide-eyed at Mr. S. “Well, who started the clock ticking?”

  “It would appear it has started itself.”

  XXX

  Crack! Camm jumped as brilliant white light blazed simultaneously with a deep clap of thunder that rattled windows. The air sizzled, crackled, and smelled of burnt ozone. She hugged herself closer to Cal and shivered. “The lightning is getting way too close for comfort!”

  Cal wrapped an arm protectively around Camm. His gaze wandered around the big hall as he listened to the havoc of the mega-storm rampaging outside. “I’m glad we’re inside here and not exposed to this storm. It ain’t a fit night out for man nor beast.”

  Camm smiled and socked him gently. “Well, aren’t you full of literary references?”

  Another blazing flash recharged the air with more crackling static electricity.

  One of the dark suits marched over to where Camm and Cal conversed near the immense fireplace. He cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.

  Turning her back to the agent, Camm grimaced at Cal. “I don’t ever remember a thunderstorm in Trona this powerful! Do you?”

  Glancing nervously over Camm’s shoulder at the suit, Cal bobbed his head in agreement. “No, not like this! Man, listen to that wind whipping around outside. And there’s no time delay between a lightning flash and its thunder. The storm is right over our heads.”

  Camm turned as Lenny and Martha hurried over from the grandfather clock. Lenny had been testing the clock’s operation. That morning he and Agent Kline had set the final pieces in place.

  The suit cleared his throat again. “Uh, excuse me. I need to talk to you kids.”

  He sidled around Cal to get Camm’s attention, but Camm swiveled to face Martha and Lenny, again turning her back to the agent.

  Camm swept out her arms in an exaggerated gesture. “Can you guys believe this thunderstorm? We’ve had thunderstorms before, but never one like this. I mean it is huge!” In spite of the pounding downpour of rain, Camm’s exaggerated voice carried along the length of the hall until smothered by another booming peal of thunder.

  Cal smile
d, recognizing Camm’s passive-aggressive strategy towards the new agents.

  Lenny nodded, excitement etching his face. “Dude, this is enormous. We have major thunderstorms in Florida all the time, but this one is of titanic proportions, even for Florida.”

  The agent’s eyebrows met above his glowering eyes. In a stern voice, he almost shouted, “Kids, we have to talk. You cannot stay here.”

  Martha eyed the agent timorously. Lenny didn’t appear to notice him. Cal grinned. He knew that Camm’s apparent ignorance of the agent’s presence was feigned, but for Lenny it was reality. The agent had nothing interesting to say, so he didn’t even appear as a blip on Lenny’s radar screen.

  Lenny continued ecstatically, “I love lightning and thunder!”

  As if endorsing Lenny’s enthusiasm, another flash of scorching white light burst upon them, punctuated by an overlapping bang of thunder.

  “Dude, it’s like the Earth Mother Goddess is really pissed, and she’s letting us have it!”

  Camm’s expression immediately went flat. “The Earth Mother Goddess? Really?”

  Lenny’s own expression indicated he knew he had said something inappropriate, but had no clue what it was. “Yeah, you know, or whatever.”

  Changing his position in another attempt to get everyone’s attention, the agent in the dark suit tried again. “Uh, kids, I’m serious. Tomorrow when this storm is over you must leave Trona.”

  Silence ruled for a few seconds, until another thunderclap shook the mansion.

  For the first time, Camm turned to gaze upon the agent. Cal struggled to keep from smiling. If death rays had shot from her eyes, the look the agent got from Camm could not have been more devastating. In obvious surprise, the agent stepped back.

  Before anyone could speak, Granny joined the little group. Camm pointedly turned her back on the agent to face Granny. “Hey! Hi, Granny. What’s up?”