by P. G. Thomas
“Do you think you can fix it?”
“If I can’t, I can always build a new one. Why?”
The look on Logan’s face became serious, “When we get back home, four years after, can we all go to Japan or China for spring break?”
“That might not be a bad idea.”
Chapter 3
John looked up as Lauren shook him awake.
Her eyes red, her face tear-stained, “We need to get this show on the road.”
He pushed himself up, “How’re you doing?”
“If there’s a word for what I’m feeling, I don’t know what it is. Some bastard ripped my children from my world, and I don’t know where they are, or even if—” Then tears began welling up. “When I lost my sister, Samantha, it almost crushed me. This, this is a hundred times worse. I need answers. I need to know what the hell is happening. I can’t sleep at night, can’t concentrate during the day. The last time, I had a million questions, but right now, you can’t even imagine the number that consumes my thoughts. Yes, I know you don’t know the answers, but every day until I hold my babies in my arms, I’m going to ask you those same damn questions. And John Ironhouse, Supreme Ruler of Magic, Tester of Gravity, if you cannot answer them soon, it’ll be you that goes over the ledge.” Then Lauren left the room, wanting to both scream and cry, as her emotions were so distorted she was no longer able to express herself with words.
Why didn’t I have Mirtza destroy the machine? After dressing, John headed downstairs where the smells of breakfast lingered thick in the air. In the kitchen, he found Ryan playing the cook. “How are you?”
“Now that we are here, well, I just don’t know. The stroller’s here, which means my daughters are, but it’s a big place. I hate this world, but if we had never arrived the first time, Lauren wouldn’t be the mother of my children. I despise it, but without it, I would still be broken. I tried to calm her down last night, but she’s angry, upset, and mad. She wants answers, and I don’t have any.”
“Been there, but this time, it’s different. Before we were strangers in a strange land, but now we just have to find our friends. The puzzle might have changed, but most of the pieces will be similar. If there’s a riddle here, all we have to do is solve it.”
“While that sounds good, that stroller—it’s so old, which could mean my little babies are full grown. How are you going to fix that?”
“After the battle had ended, I used everything I knew to transform the most fundamental elements into a piece of technology, which should be unable to exist in either of our worlds, but it worked. I blended technology, science, and magic together, twisting and breaking natural laws that I thought were constant in every universe. Magic has its own rules, which can wrap around those constants, changing them into variables. If I did it once, I should be able to do it again, but I just need some time to figure it out.” How? How do I fix this? I always wondered if I was just lucky the first time. Science I know, but magic—why did it work?
“As your friend, with all that we’ve been through, I’ll try to help you,” began Ryan. “As a father of three missing babies that may be full grown or dead—,” then he paused to wipe away the tears. “John, if this all goes wrong, and the magic comes back to me, I’ll destroy this world. Last time it was six lost kids on a wacky field trip, but these are my daughters, so if you can’t make it right, I’ll make it wrong. I’ll try to support you, comforting Lauren. We’ll do whatever it takes, but there are two possible endings here: everybody lives happily ever after or nobody does. Do what you have to.”
John walked over to the hot bean juice, filled two mugs, and heading into the front room, he gave one to Steve. “Feeling any better?”
“You’re not serious—” However, as he successfully sat up, the look on his face abruptly changed, “Yes?”
“Welcome to Calicon,” and then John went back to the kitchen.
Inhaling the exotic aroma, Steve scanned the room that looked like a set from a horror movie in a creepy museum. Stuffed animals, giant picture frames with plants or bugs in them, a suit of small armor, and a million odd little things on display—everything covered with a thick layer of dust. None of this makes any sense. What the hell is happening? Several minutes later, walking out with a plate of food, Eric gave it to him before returning to the kitchen.
Shuffling into the dining room, Mirtza passed a faded picture with worn edges to Lauren. “This belongs to you. Is one of them your daughter?”
Holding the picture in her hand, Lauren squeezed the tears back into her eyes. Printed off the week before, it now looked a hundred years old. It was her sitting under a tree with her arms wrapped around Sam, Hope, and Brooke. Strangely, a smile came to her, “They’re all my daughters,” and reached out for Ryan’s hand, “our daughters. The one on the left is Samantha who we named after my sister, and it’s impossible to get her to sit still. The middle one is Hope. I have no idea why we called her that, but it just seemed to fit. The one on the right is Brooke. We didn’t name her after the Earth Mother, but the name seemed to represent this entire world. Because of what happened here, I became close to Ryan. I guess in a way it was a tribute to this place, but I never thought I would tell her about it, or that she would ever see it.”
“I looked at that picture every night for the last year. They are all your daughters? I thought that maybe one was related to you, but they were all birthed at the same time, three born?”
“They’re called triplets,” replied Lauren.
“I have never heard of such a thing before.” Then there was a knock at the front door. “That would be Lady Danex, my neighbor, who checks in on me every now and then.”
As Logan began heading to the front hall, there was an anxiety in Mirtza’s voice, “No! I must answer it!” After he had helped their first protector to the door, Mirtza knocked twice on the inside, and from the outside, they heard somebody reply with three. “I know it’s childish,” and then he opened the door, “Lady Danex, I am so pleased you could visit.”
Standing outside, an elderly lady in her mid-sixties, who was barely five feet tall, slightly withered with age, but she had a twinkle in her eye.
“Mirtza, I see you have guests.”
“Yes, please come in, as I would like to introduce you to them.” The three walked down the hall, entered the dining room, where Mirtza stopped in the middle. “Lady Danex, may I please introduce you to Eric, Lauren, her husband Ryan, her brother Logan, and my good friend John, John Ironhouse.”
“Please, Mirtza, stop calling me Lady, I am just Danex.” Scanning the room, she noticed somebody lying on the ground, “Does he need help?”
Nodding back when they looked at him, Steve had no idea of what the elderly lady was saying.
Ryan stepped forward, “No, he’s fine.”
Then Mirtza smiled, “These are—”
“We’re just old friends,” replied Eric.
“Well, I will leave you to your meal. If you need me, place a plate in the front window, and I will stop by the first chance I have.” She looked at John, “Could you please walk me to the door?” He agreed, and just as Danex stepped outside, she said, “Can you wait here, as I have something for you.” Even though he had anticipated surprises in this strange land, her odd request caught him off guard. Returning twenty minutes later, she handed him a pair of silver framed glasses with green crystal lenses. “Gayne said if I ever met John Ironhouse, I should give him these, but that was all. From the stories that he told me about your friends, it has to be you. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
John stammered his thanks, as it was colors refracting through crystals that allowed him to show Gayne science, and with that same technique, he would later identify magic in the night sky. Excitedly rushing back down the hall, he asked Mirtza for the letter.
“It is on the desk in the front room,” then reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a ceramic jar, “and here is the translation ointment.”
Fillin
g his mug, John went to the other room and located the letter, but the written symbols were indecipherable. Pulling off his glasses with the round frames, he dipped one finger into the container, applying the oily paste to his lenses. The entire time, Steve lay quietly on the floor watching. John waved his glasses around, blowing on them, until the paste evaporated before putting them back on.
The letter was three pages long, lacking any time reference. It talked about the break-in at the school, how Gayne had found the metal contraption with wheels beside the machine, and of the odd satchel that had the pictures of Earth Mother in it. His confession proclaiming ignorance of what had happened, but he provided further details about the Darkpaye immigration. With the reconstruction done and without the trade, the economy on the Bright Coast crashed, but then Darkpaye immigrants arrived, who had gold. People sold their lavish houses, purchasing smaller dwellings with a lesser tax burden. The new residents were able to hire on as many servants as they desired, but the increased competition for jobs also decreased the pay. Three years after the break-in, the rains started and never stopped. The Newlands became a mud-bowl, causing all of the citizens to head back to the Bright Coast. Riches earned from trade with Darkpaye were quickly spent, overcrowding, the constant rainfall, and so much more continued to make the situation worse. With Calicon unable to grow crops, the rich Darkpaye residents started importing food from their homeland, selling it at extravagant prices. It provided work for many on the docks, but after a hard day of labor, few from Calicon could afford to purchase the food they unloaded. Crime, riots, disease, and more also inflicted the Bright Coast.
After he had finished reading the letter, John spoke the last paragraph aloud. “While we may have won the battle Mirtza, we lost the war. As I prepare to head out, it has now been raining for ten years. Darkpaye immigrants have taken over the government on the Bright Coast, and they have purchased all of the houses north of the Key River. I closed the school in the fifth year of the rains since the enrollment had been declining for years, as we had insufficient income to keep the doors open. I moved anything of value to my house, selling the rest for back taxes. It is my sincerest hope that you read this letter before my return and are safe. I will do what I can to find any news of you in Darkpaye, but I hope, my friend, that you will greet me on the doorstep when I return. In some ways, it is a shame that John Ironhouse returned home. I have no idea of what is happening in Calicon, and he is the only one that I can think of who might be able to help us. I never told him, but I was green with envy at what he did, what he knew, how he could see everything so crystal clear. Good health my friend.” As riddles went, it was simple, but only three people would understand it.
“Kid,” Steve whispered. “Phone the police and turn everybody in. End this.”
With his focus was on the letter, John never heard the request. Pulling out the glasses with the green lenses, he applied the ointment, and when it dried, he re-examined the document. The front remained unchanged, however, turning it over, blue symbols not visible the first time appeared, and he headed down to the basement.
*******
Lauren, Ryan, Eric, and Logan had remained at the table discussing their options for over an hour. Being so engrossed in their conversation, nobody noticed Mirtza wander into the front room. When they heard him raising his voice, Eric, thinking that Steve was the source of discord, went to investigate, but instead, he found Mirtza sitting at the desk having an argument with no one. Calming down their old friend, he walked him up to his room, but when he returned, Lauren and Ryan had sought out privacy. Seeing Logan, Eric nodded towards Steve, “Want to have some fun?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Show him the Bright Coast. Tell him about last time.”
“Might as well. Nothing else to do,” replied Logan. He then headed into the kitchen and returned pushing a wheeled cart, which had two bottles of wine and three glasses on it.
“What’s that for?”
“He’s going to be heavy, and I’m not going to carry him outside.”
Eric just nodded.
As he saw them advance, there was a look of apprehension in Steve’s eyes, “Look, phone the police to end this.”
Logan shook his head, “Or…we could go with Ryan’s plan.”
Eric removed the bottles and glasses, setting them on a table, and then stood on one side of Steve. With Logan on the other, they both lifted him onto the cart.
“What’s going on?”
Logan grabbed the refreshments and glasses, turned to Eric, “You’re stronger, so you push.” Then he headed towards the patio doors and opened them.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Calm down, or we’ll go looking for a hill.” Once outside, Eric parked the cart beside the table and sat down.
“Comfortable?” asked Logan.
“Not really.”
“Would you like a cushion?”
“It might help.”
Logan raised himself from his chair but immediately sat back down, “I don’t recall my sister saying that you offered to make her comfortable.”
“Bastard,” was Steve’s simple reply.
“Not yet,” and then began rubbing his bare forearms.
Popping the cork, Eric poured three drinks and then pointed to the horizon, “Welcome to Calicon.”
The first thing Steve noticed was the rich smells of burnt wood in the air. Growing up in the city, the only time he had smelt similar was when fire trucks battled flames, but the consistency and mixture seemed real, not faked. Scanning the structure built for the hoax, he saw the aged, dried-out squared timbers under the cracking plaster exterior. Shading his eyes, he saw three suns: a red light low in the sky, a large yellow sun in the noon position, and a bright blue dot between the two. The fake buildings closest to him were primarily built of the same squared lumber construction, but he also saw some made from cheap stone blocks. While most buildings had flat roofs, some were peaked, and each had a bathtub-like object on top, which overflowed with rain water. Scanning the horizon, the town stretched out for miles in front of him, as the land terraced down until it was level with an immense blue ocean that filled the eastern horizon. The mosaic of drab buildings growing more intricate the farther north he looked, but smoke drifting from the chimneys filled the air with a brown haze, obscuring the farthest. Overall, the scene had an appearance of a smoke-stained watercolor painting of a very large old European city. “Okay, I’ll give you an A+ for special effects, but what’s your end game here? Trying to make me think that I’m going crazy, so when I testify against you, your lawyer can get it thrown out?”
Logan snorted, “He thinks he’s going to tell somebody about this.”
“Do you have anything stronger?” asked Steve after taking a drink.
“Not unless you go to the dwarves,” began Eric. “This tastes like elf wine.”
“I see your game plan, ‘Yes, your Honor, they made me drunk on dwarf beer and elf wine. What do you mean, be serious? I am!’ Sorry, boys, but it isn’t going to happen. Look, the best thing you can do is to call the police, and unless you’re part of this baby-selling ring, turn yourselves in.”
“They’re my effing nieces you dick, and she wouldn’t sell them,” replied Logan, slamming his hand down.
Eric pointed up to the suns, “Those!” Then pointed out towards the expansive town, “And that! Do they seem normal to you?”
“I was a technical advisor on a war film, and I’ve seen what green screens and projectors can do. I’ll say it’s the best high-definition I’ve seen, and the 3D effects look like a new generation, but I’m sorry to say that your elaborate hoax is a waste of money. I’ve no idea on why you’re going to this much trouble but give it up. Just call the damn police.”
Logan mumbled under his breath, “And people call me slow.”
“Do you remember that accident,” began Eric, “four years ago, where six kids disappeared, and they were found eight hours later?”
>
“Think I may have seen something on the news.”
“That was us,” began Logan, “and our friend Zack.”
“There was an accident between two military trucks, and it opened up a ‘wormhole’ that brought us here,” added Eric.
“For the love of all things holy,” protested Steve. “I don’t believe any of this crap story or special effects. Kidnapping a police officer is punishable by life in prison.”
“This, this isn’t fun,” and Logan stood, heading back into the house.
Eric’s frustration was building, “Look, if you can keep quiet, I’ll tell you what happened last time.”
“Kid, I’m not interested in fiction!”
Downing his drink, Eric handed the other bottle to Steve, “I don’t need this crap either,” and also headed inside.
Steve was sitting on the cart by himself. I’ll show them by punching a hole in their green screen. Reaching for one of the empty glasses, he leaned back, throwing it as hard as he could. The glass rotated through the air, arcing into the distance, before breaking on the opposite side of the road. That screen is really far away. As a horse-drawn wagon went by, the driver raised his fist in anger. This is a really big set. What the freak is going on?
*******
Entering the workshop that morning, John momentarily paused and looked at his machine. Why did I—why did I always insist that we get together at the beginning of spring break? The crystals were still glowing when he picked up the odd light fixture. I wonder how Gayne made this work. Looking at the machine, he saw a cable lying in a puddle of moisture. That must have been how the lightening powered it. Popping the cover off of the central panel, he saw the burnt damage to his crude circuits from the surge. Examining the damaged and missing manual cranks, he noticed the spots where Mirtza struggled for so long, trying to repair it. If I fix it, I can get us back home. If I open a portal in the park, pushing the stroller away from the first, then I can stop this. Step back in, open up another, and it’ll take us home. However, if I don’t step back in before the first portal closes, will I create a time paradox? Will there be two Johns? If I stop the stroller, time should change, Lauren doesn’t get arrested, doesn’t call me, and we never go to the university. Where and when do I open the second portal? What happens if the day after, another opens? Without both storms, there’s no power for the machine, and we wouldn’t be able to get back here. Holy crap, I wish Zack were here with a keg of dwarven ale, maybe he could explain it to me.