Thirteen Forgotten Worlds (Seam Wardens Book 1)

by Brant Williams

  Alexa scrunched her brows in confusion. “You think she has an enhancer? How do you know? We aren’t allowed to see anyone outside of the Seam Wardens while in Cadet training.”

  “I didn’t see her in person. I saw her on TV.”

  “Wait, what? Your old girlfriend is on TV? And she has an enhancer?”

  "I think so. She had a strange fractal pattern tattoo on her shoulder before, and now that's gone and replaced by a similar one on her calf."

  Alexa shook her head as if to clear it. “Who is this we’re talking about?”

  “Amy Smith – she goes by the name Brooklyn Stone now.”

  “Brooklyn Stone? The actress?” Alexa’s eyes widened. “The star of Night Huntress is your ex-girlfriend?”

  I nodded. “But it was a long time ago. We broke up when she moved to Hollywood after our sophomore year of High School. We haven’t even spoken since.”

  Alexa sat completely still for a moment, taking all this in. Finally, she nodded a couple of times and looked up at me. “A normal with an enhancer is dangerous. Has she started showing any signs of erratic behavior?”

  “She just checked into some celebrity rehab clinic,” I said. “But they won’t be able to do anything there, will they?”

  “Not for an enhancer,” Alexa said. “Have you told anyone yet?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “You know how things work in the Seam Wardens much better than I do. Who should I tell?”

  “I guess Reid or Abby. If they can’t do anything, they can certainly escalate the issue to the right people.”

  Later that day, after our training session was over, I approached Reid and Abby.

  "Can I talk to you for a minute in private?" I asked.

  Reid and Abby exchanged a look between them, but I couldn’t tell what it meant.

  “Sure,” said Reid. “Let’s find an open room.”

  Abby stayed and continued to put away the practice gear while Reid walked with me through the halls until we found an open practice room.

  “This should do the trick,” he said and closed the door behind us. “What’s on your mind, Pierce?”

  I took a deep breath and jumped straight to the point. “I think I know a normal who has an enhancer.”

  Reid looked at me with a perplexed expression. “An enhancer?” he repeated.

  “Yes, she has what looks like a fractal pattern tattoo that keeps moving locations. Plus, she’s been acting crazy lately and just got booked into a rehab clinic.”

  “A rehab clinic? How do you know this?”

  "It's been on TV," I said. "I'm talking about Brooklyn Stone, the actress from Night Huntress. Logan watches those celebrity gossip shows, and I saw her."

  “Are you sure it’s an enhancer?”

  I hesitated. “Well, I’ve only seen photos of her and descriptions of her behavior becoming more and more erratic. But I’m pretty sure.”

  Reid frowned and looked thoughtful. "Tattoos and acting crazy are hardly shocking behavior from Hollywood starlets. Without more compelling evidence, all I can do it bring it up with Enforcement and ask the Defense Warden to order an investigation."

  “How long will that take?” I asked.

  "I can talk to them about it today, but without actual evidence, it will have to get prioritized against all the other requests for investigation they have. It could be a couple of weeks before they have the resources to go check it out."

  A couple of weeks? That was way too long. She had clearly had the enhancer for a long time and was already acting more and more erratic. Who knew what might happen to her in a couple of weeks?

  I left the room disappointed and frustrated. There had to be something I could do.

  “Pssst.” It was Alexa. She was half hidden behind a door to another practice room. “What did he say?”

  I walked into the room, and Alexa closed the door behind me. I was acutely aware that we were in the room together, alone. Under other circumstances, I might have kissed her, but this hardly seemed like the right time. “He said he would bring it up to Enforcement and they would ‘prioritize’ it against the other requests they have for investigation.”

  Alexa shook her head and sighed. “That could be weeks or longer. Do you think she can wait that long?”

  "I have no idea." I shrugged helplessly. "If they have already put her in rehab, then I guess it's gotten pretty bad. She was never a party girl."

  For a minute, Alexa didn't say anything. She appeared to be deep in thought. I remembered her doing this when we were kids – she always paused and got silent when she was concentrating. I had learned not to interrupt and that she would speak when she was ready.

  After a minute, she finally spoke. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

  That wasn’t what I had expected. “Like, romantic feelings?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know, are you hoping that this will be a way to reconnect with her and rekindle your relationship? You know, handsome Seam Warden swoops in and saves the girl in the grip of bad magic and saves the day?”

  With my memory restored I realized that I had been attracted to Amy because of my unconscious memory of Alexa – the girl I had truly wanted. Sure, Amy was a great person, and I had cared for her, but how could I ever want to get back with the person who had thrown away our relationship as soon as it became inconvenient? Besides, that had all happened several years ago, and we no longer had anything in common. She was an actress in front of the cameras at all times, and I was a Seam Warden Cadet, forgotten by the world and protecting it from danger.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all,” I said. And I meant it.

  Alexa seemed to relax at my answer. “Ok, good. How badly do you want to help her get out that enhancer?”

  Given the context of her last question, I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. “A lot?”

  “Enough to risk getting into trouble?”

  “What kind of trouble? Punishment duty trouble or kicked out of the Seam Wardens trouble?”

  Alexa smiled and shook her head, pityingly. “Pierce, you have seven enhancers and were chosen to learn from the Uchima Monks. You would have to commit murder or something heinous like that to get kicked out.”

  “Then, yes. I would risk getting into trouble.”

  “Good. So will I. But hopefully, we won't get caught."

  Alexa came up with the plan. Our first step was to track down Spencer – he was well known for disregarding rules he thought were stupid. Together, we explained the situation and attempted to convince him to help.

  He seemed upset when we told him about Amy having an enhancer.

  "Are you sure?" he asked.

  I explained to him what I had seen and how she had been acting. He admitted that it did sound like an enhancer.

  “Please, Spencer?” I asked. “Think of this as my first case as a Seam Warden. We can find out where she got it from and help track down the source.”

  “That’s very brave of you,” Spencer said. “But I don’t want you two getting mixed up in anything that might be over your heads.”

  I started to object, but Spencer spoke over me. “I’ll help, but only if you promise me you’ll remove the enhancer and get out of there. Leave it to Enforcement to follow up. Deal?”

  Alexa and I reluctantly agreed. I did want to find out who had given her the information, but not at the cost of losing Spencer’s help.

  “And if you get caught,” Spencer said, “I had nothing to do with this, ok? I’m already in enough hot water with Enforcement. I don’t need any more trouble.”

  Over the next few days, Spencer helped us set everything up. He convinced Olmus, the Sasquatch guard at the TTA that Alexa knew, to ignore us as we went through a transdimensional door into Los Angeles. Before we left, he gave us a gate box to return with when we were done.

  “This gate box is a slightly older model and no longer in use,” he said. “I liberated it from a supply room. If anyone asks, you found it in a practice room.” />
  We left after lessons the next day. We weren't technically allowed out of the Cadet Wing without permission, but Alexa assured me that the vast majority of the Seam Wardens we would encounter would have no idea we didn't have permission and all we had to do was act confident, and no one would question us.

  Alexa, having grown up in the Headquarters, knew the hallways like the back of her hand. She arranged for us to take the least busy route to minimize the chances of encountering someone who knew we didn’t have permission to be out.

  We walked confidently, and no one looked twice at us. We only had to stop once when we saw some younger kids that Alexa knew coming down the hall.

  “I don’t think they would tell on us,” she said, as we ducked into an unlocked closet, “but I don’t want them crowding around us and drawing attention.”

  After a few close calls, we managed to make it to the TTA without attracting any unwanted attention.

  Olmus saw us and quickly looked away, making an exaggerated effort to pretend he didn’t see us.

  Alexa shook her head and smiled. “Come on,” she said and led me to a rather plain-looking door. “This is the one.”

  She gripped the handle, and in an instant, we were standing in California sunshine.

  I grew up in San Jose, California, but I had been to Hollywood a few times in my life. It had always felt too touristy to me, so I hadn't spent much time there. I didn't care all that much about actors and actresses, so it wasn't like I wanted to see where they worked.

  Besides, once Amy had moved down here, the whole place had taken on a bad vibe for me. You could safely say that Hollywood and I were not exactly friends.

  Alexa pulled out her mobile communicator – the device I had first seen Spencer use when he had shown me a video of myself on it. She pulled the two metal rods apart and formed the screen. It had a navigation program on it that was light-years ahead of anything we had by today's standards. Not only could it show you a location, but it could also pull up interior views of buildings.

  Amy pulled up the location of the Meadowherst Clinic on her communicator. The door we had taken was not too far away, but we still needed to take a cab to get there – unless we wanted to use our enhancers and run.

  Once we arrived, we paid the cab driver and tried to inspect the outside of the clinic without being too obvious. The building looked more like a small castle than a rehab clinic. Everything was large and ornate and made of stone with high arches and massive wooden doors. The castle part wasn’t too far off – the building had a large, open courtyard at its center where the “guests” could be outside without having to be subject to the public, i.e. the Paparazzi. The building itself was situated on a beautiful piece of land, surrounded by a tall barbed-wire fence. It was both posh and secure.

  A perfect place to dry out the drug-addicted rich and famous.

  The plan for getting in was easy – walk in. While Seam Wardens who had lived near the Seams for many years tended to be harder to remember, the effect wasn’t as strong as it was for the actual creatures from other worlds. Fortunately, we would have a little help.

  Alexa pulled out a small, round, silver disk perhaps a half inch in diameter and not much thicker than a piece of cardboard. It was a piece of technology the Seam Wardens had developed themselves called an "Eraser." The Eraser magnified the forgetting effect of the Seams and would allow us to walk through the clinic without anyone even noticing we were there. It didn’t make us invisible, but it made us difficult to focus on and more difficult to remember.

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  Alexa grinned mischievously. “I waited until I knew they would all be out, and I sneaked into my family’s living quarters. I took it from my dad’s emergency stash of supplies. It’s an extra that I know he's never used.”

  That had been a gutsy move. There were harsh rules about cadets keeping away from their families during their training. That was why we were typically isolated in a separate wing. If she had been caught, Alexa would have been severely punished.

  Alexa took the Eraser and handed it to me. I gave it a squeeze to activate it, and it glowed green for a moment before fading back to silver. I placed it in a little pocket on my tactical vest that had been designed to hold it. The field it generated would be large enough to hide both of us as long as we stayed somewhat close together.

  As we entered the clinic, cool, air-conditioned air swept over us, the pressure differential causing a surprisingly strong breeze. Our entrance triggered a sensor that gave off a double beep. An attractive woman at the front desk with dark, smooth hair and flawless skin momentarily glanced at us and then immediately went back to looking at whatever was on her computer screen.

  The Eraser was working.

  We walked through the entrance into the clinic. The building felt even larger inside than it had looked on the outside. Everything was richly decorated with the most expensive of items. Clearly, there was good money in celebrity rehab.

  We worked our way out of the reception area and had no problem getting through a secured doorway by following someone in. The “clinic” portion was more like a five-star hotel. There were massage rooms, a full spa, pool, and workout equipment. The carpet was so thick that I felt myself sink in with each step.

  Alexa found a nurses’ desk where they kept patient records and with a few minutes of searching, figured out which room Amy was staying in.

  Amy was staying in a private room on the east wing of the clinic reserved for those who valued their privacy more than obscene quantities of money.

  It took us quite a bit of exploring before we figured out where the east wing was located. None of the staff nor residents noticed us as we wandered around. It was strange to be in plain sight and feel like you were completely invisible. I hadn’t realized how much others’ perceptions of me shaped my experience of simply being.

  There was one exception. A man wearing an expensive suit – I had learned how to recognize expensive ones from my time living with my Uncle – sat on a couch in a corridor just outside the entrance to the East Wing. He had very broad shoulders and would be a mountain of a man if he stood up. His olive complexion was accented by dark, curly hair worn long enough for the curl to show.

  The man's reaction to seeing us was different than everyone else. The others had looked at us when we got close enough and then looked away once the effects of the Eraser kicked in. This man didn't seem to look at us at all. He wore sunglasses and kept his gaze fixedly on the floor. I had the distinct impression he was watching us, but trying to pretend that he could not see us.

  Could he be a Seam Warden or just a man who has the potential to become one? As we walked passed him, I thought I detected a slight movement of his head, but there was nothing I could be certain of.

  Getting into the east wing required going through another checkpoint with an armed guard, but the guard simply looked at us and then looked away as if he had never seen us.

  We stepped through the checkpoint and into the corridor. There was a long hallway that led to a wide open room. In the room were three doors – one on each side and one directly across from the hallway. The ceiling was a large, domed skylight that gave the room the feel of being outside. Beautiful benches and pots of flowers and other plants lined the walls. The middle of the room was dominated by a large, circular planter at least six feet in diameter and surrounded by a wide bench.

  The room we wanted was on the far side of the planter. We circled around it and stood in front of room E101.

  “Are you sure this is it?” I asked.

  Alexa shrugged. “That’s what her chart said.”

  “Should I knock?” I asked.

  "Of course," Alexa said. She gave me her best boys-are-so-stupid look. "Are you just going to break down her door and storm in? I don't know about Amy, but if that happened to me, I would probably break the intruder's arm before I even bothered to identify who it might be."

  Amy and Alexa may have had some
superficial physical characteristics in common, but they were nothing alike. The idea of Amy beating anyone up was pretty ridiculous. She may have played a kick-butt monster killer on TV, but unless she had received some serious training since moving to Hollywood, she would not be someone I wanted backing me up in a fight.

  I knocked on the door and waited for a moment.

  No answer.

  I tried again and still got no answer.

  “Great,” Alexa said, “I guess we get to do this the hard way.”

  She tried the knob, and it turned. The door opened on smooth, silent hinges making no noise.

  “Let me go first,” Alexa said. “I don’t want you accidentally seeing your old girlfriend if she isn’t dressed.”

  “It’s not like that…” I started to say, but Alexa ignored me and walked through the door and down the hall.

  The smell in the room was surprisingly rank. It smelled a bit like an old, gym locker room. I followed Alexa in and closed the door behind me in case anyone else came down to the East Wing and saw us. The entry was a rather long hallway that turned to the left.

  Alexa motioned for me to wait and then turned the corner of the hallway. I waited rather impatiently. This was stupid. I'm the one that Amy knew. She would be much less likely to attack me if she saw me. Besides, Alexa was now far enough away from me that she would no longer be in range of the Eraser.

  Which reminded me that I should probably turn it off. I reached up to my shoulder and pushed it until I felt it click off.

  At that moment, Alexa poked her head around the corner and motioned for me to follow her. I walked down the hallway which opened into a step-down living room with beautiful couches and a giant flat screen TV attached to the far wall. There was an attached kitchen as well as a door to what appeared to be a bedroom.

  The room itself was what could best be described as trashed. Blankets and food were strewn everywhere. A smear of what I hoped was pudding was dried onto the TV. Old pizza boxes, bottles of vodka, and chip bags littered the floor. The table in the kitchen had been broken into pieces and looked like it had been gnawed on by something.