“Like what, if I might ask?”
“You can look them up in my library sometime. His most bizarre was ‘the Hidden World.’”
“What was–?”
“A third world, in addition to Humania and Nocturnia, which I don’t have time to explain. I brought you here to inspect the cardonite alarm, not give you a history lesson. I’ve got my own work to do.”
“Yes, sir. Can I ask what you’re working on?”
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you.”
“It the only way–”
“To learn. I appreciate that. But when it verges on nosiness…”
“Aren’t the best scientists nosy?”
Koertig smiled – he actually smiled. Telly wished he hadn’t. Not a pretty sight with all those big snagglely yellow troll teeth.
“I suppose so.” He sighed. “Well, Falzon’s made no secret of his desire to invade Humania and establish a beachhead there.”
“Really?” This was the first Telly had heard of it. But then he was relatively new to the Uberalls.
“The problem is that at present we can open only a small breach for a very limited time. He has just informed me that he wants a huge breach – large enough to move an army through.”
“That’s awful!” Telly blurted.
“As in awfully difficult, you mean? I agree. I just tried to explain that to him but he wants what he wants. And that’s my concern. Yours is the cardonite detector. Get to it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Invade Earth – Humania? Telly thought as he walked away. Falzon was even crazier than he’d imagined. It would never work.
Or would it?
Spew an army of zombies, lycans, vampires, and rakshasa out of thin air into the center of the Pentagon and onto the White House south lawn… they could bring down the US government overnight.
8
Ryan was sitting in the front seat of the car as Cal drove west along a riverbank road that took them farther and farther away from the toll bridge with every passing mile. The steamer’s headlights did not penetrate very far into the darkness, and Ryan was more than a little wary as they drove deeper into the night.
As the hours passed, he gazed through the windshield at the star-filled sky. Back in Kansas he’d lie on his back and trace the hazy expanse of the Milky Way from horizon to horizon. The bright bulging area was the center of the galaxy, the Big City of closely packed older stars, all viewed from Earth’s suburban location on one of the galactic arms. Then he’d hunt for Venus and Mars and Jupiter. The memory made him want to be home more than anything. An ache opened in him like an earthquake crack and he had to fight the urge to start crying. It angered him because he knew crying never solved anything… never really helped.
As he looked for the Big Dipper, hoping to find some peace and reassurance in the familiar shape, he realized with a start that he couldn’t find it, couldn’t even find the Milky Way. All the constellations had changed.
He didn’t need another reminder of how far he was from home, but here it was, smacking him in the face.
He hauled himself back from the far reaches of whatever galaxy was out there to this poor, bouncing, hissing excuse for a car. He looked over at Cal behind the wheel, leaning back in the driver’s seat with a casual, stylish posture, negotiating the twisting road without much difficulty. A typical teen-age boy – lanky and full of energy. He smiled a lot, especially when he was talking, a trait that naturally made people at ease.
“Who taught you how to drive one of these things?”
“Nobody, really…I just watched some of the farm workers when I’d be riding with them. Figured it out, I guess.”
“How much farther till we get to the farm?” said Emma from the back where she sat with Dillon and Ambrose. “I hate to say it, but I have to go to the bathroom.”
Ryan chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a car ride with my sister without that little detail!”
“Just shut up, Ryan.”
He smiled as he peered out at the road ahead. As the car crested a slight rise, Ryan saw a dim patch of light off in the distance.
“Hey, what’s that?”
“Slow down,” said Dillon. “That might be the place.”
Cal eased off on the valve that ran steam to power train, studied the road and the countryside ahead.
“Looks like a long driveway. See it? Heading up to that house where the lights are.”
Ambrose leaned forward in his seat. “Do you see a mailbox or a sign or anything?”
Cal slowed even further. “Not yet…”
“Wait a sec.” said Ryan, pointing. The light from a gibbous moon helped somewhat. “Looks like that might be a mailbox.”
“They get mail out here?” Emma sounded incredulous.
“Yeah, there’s a name on it – ‘Jantz’… mean anything to you?” Cal kept his foot on the brakes as they coasted closer to the driveway’s entrance.
“That’s it! That’s their name! That’s them!” cried Dillon. “Go on. Cal – take us in.”
As the car rumbled off the country road and rocked along the rutted driveway, the fuzzy glow of the farmhouse resolved into squares of light – windows and doors. It wasn’t all that late into the evening, but he wondered if the people in that house would react well to a bunch of strangers knocking on their door.
The car eased to a stop at the end of the driveway as Cal started turning some valves to shut it down.
“The end of the line, folks. We’re here!”
As everyone disembarked, Ryan heard the rattle and chug of what sounded like a fairly large steam engine in the distance – probably every farm had one to run a generator for electricity. Just one more reminder that he was a long way from the world called Humania.
Dillon gathered them together. “Wait here. I’ll go first. Mrs. Jantz and my mom are friends – once she sees it’s me, we’ll be fine.”
Ryan stood there with the others watching as Dillon casually approached the front door of the house. Emma drew close to him and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing. He smiled in the darkness as he wondered if he could ever get through this whole mess without her.
He returned his attention to Dillon, who’d reached the porch and tapped solidly on the thick oak-slabbed door. After a brief pause a male voice called out from within.
“Who’s there?”
Ryan could hear apprehension and a little fear in the lycan’s voice, and who could blame him.
“It’s me, Mr. Jantz – Dillon!”
For an awkward few seconds there came no response, and Ryan could sense a growing dread ripple through everyone around him. Had they made a very bad mistake?
Then the sound of a heavy latch being thrown, then a smaller locking handle. The door swung inward to reveal the orange glow of a lamp silhouetting a tall, broad-shouldered figure with long hair holding a shotgun at waist-level and pointed right at Dillon’s face. Ryan heard Emma gasp, but say nothing.
Another thin slice of time that seemed to hang there, keeping them all from moving or speaking. And then Dillon shattered it: “Hey! It’s me – Dillon!”
Ryan heard a female voice from beyond the open door. “Orin, it’s okay – it is Dillon.”
The lycan lowered the shotgun as he leaned down to face Dillon. “What’re you doing out here at this time of night, boy? Is there something wrong with you? You haven’t been running wild, have you?”
A second person stepped into the doorway. Mrs. Jantz, thought Ryan.
Dillon shook his head. “Oh no, nothing like that. I was in Balmore during the attack, and–”
“What?” said Mrs. Jantz. “Oh, Dillon–!”
“Yeah, it was awful.” Dillon spoke quickly. “I was with some friends. We need help.”
Dillon gestured for Ryan and the other to come closer, and as they did, Mr. Jantz addressed them. “Is everybody all right?”
Ambrose held out his hand in greeting. “Yes, sir. We are! Thank you.”
If this extra information had any impact on the farm couple, they didn’t let it show in their expressions.
“Well, you all look more than a little exhausted to me,” said Mrs. Jantz. “And probably hungry. Come inside and let me heat up some vegetable soup.”
As everyone filed into the front room of the farmhouse, Dillon introduced them to the Jantz family, starting with Orin and his wife, Irina, following up with their eight- and ten-year-old children – Ella Grace and Ben. Ryan smiled as he met each of them, noticing that they all had smooth palms just like Dillon and looked like regular people – human people he might see walking along in downtown Skelton Springs, Kansas.
But of course he knew they were not. They were lycans who were sympathetic to the ethical treatment of humans – a cause for which Ryan was also more than a little enthused.
As they were ushered to a big table in the kitchen, Ryan studied the décor and the general trappings of the Jantz home. If he had only one word to describe it, he would have to say simple. The place had a no-frills, kind of frontier feel, suggesting the Jantz family were sincere and serious in their lifestyle.
As Ryan took a seat on a bench by the table, Emma sat next to him. “This is so kind of you,” she said to Irina.
The lycan lady was lean, but had good muscle tone in her arms and shoulders. She looked fit and healthy. She wore her long brown hair pulled back off her face and held in place by a bright yellow bandana. That was the only bright color she allowed herself and Ryan figured her white peasant blouse and long plain brown skirt reminded him of early western settlers in Emma’s books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. He’d never read them, but the cover illustrations always included women who looked liked Irina Jantz.
Orin pulled out a chair at the far end of the table and tuned it around so he could rest his arms on its plain wooden back. He looked at Ambrose as he spoke.
“I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Bierce, but I’d love to ask you a few questions…”
“Not at all! And please, call me Ambrose.”
“Wellll, I know this is going to sound awkward. But we’ve never had a chance to talk to humans like yourselves – from Humania, I mean.”
Ryan warmed to the idea of talking about his world. He was sure he’d be able to contribute more about modern times than Ambrose. Just as he opened his mouth, Emma gave him a sharp quick, nudge with her elbow, and made a brief shhh! He almost laughed out loud. She knew him so well. Okay, he’d defer to Ambrose first.
“Go right ahead,” said Ambrose with a chuckle. “But I should tell you – it’s been quite a while since I’ve been home. I’m told a lot has changed since I’ve been there.”
Orin smiled. “Be that as it may. But tell me – is it true that your whole world is filled with the same kinds of people?”
“You mean unlike here? With all the different species?”
“Exactly.”
Ambrose stroked his beard absently. “Well, yes, it’s true. We humans are all pretty much the same – for better or worse.”
“So different from here,” said Irina as she turned from the wood stove to face them. “But also so wonderful!”
Ambrose regarded her comment. “Why so, madam?”
“Well, since you’re all the same, everyone must get along so well. It sounds like a grand situation.”
“That’s a charming notion, but I am sorry to report we get along no better than all your assorted folks. Worse, maybe.”
“How can that be?” said Orin.
Before Ambrose offered an explanation, Irina approached the table with a large pot of steaming soup. She placed it on the table and began to ladle out servings to everyone. Ryan leaned over his bowl, breathing in the aroma and seasonings. Until that instant, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Resisting the urge to pick up the bowl and drink it down, he took a wide wooden spoon and carefully drew in more civilized mouthfuls. Beside him, Emma also displayed her table manners as she delicately sampled the broth.
“Wow,” said Dillon as he picked up his bowl and sipped from it. “No-carn cooking at its finest!”
Irina grinned while Orin sat waiting for Ambrose to enjoy a few spoonfuls before finally answering his question.
“You said you humans bicker amongst yourselves – that’s fascinating.”
“If it were only bickering, it would be a paradise,” said Ambrose. “We have so many wars that the word ‘peace’ is little more than a pause for breath between conflicts.”
“Just like here,” said Orin. “Isn’t it a shame that the rest of our worlds can’t think like us. All we want is to live in harmony and cause no harm to others.”
Ryan had been listening as he consumed his soup, and Orin Jantz’s last statement had created a question in him so striking he couldn’t stop from blurting it out.
“So…how do you all deal with the moon-thing? Once a month when everybody–”
“Ryan!” His sister jabbed him in the ribs.
“Please, it’s all right,” said Orin, a thin smile peeking through his wispy beard. “It’s a perfectly logical question. Wellll, ‘running wild,’ or ‘luning’ as it’s called, is a big problem for all lycans who want to establish a civilized society – not just those of us in the no-carn movement.”
“Frankly,” said Irina, “we find such behavior an embarrassment.”
Ryan felt a sudden relief when he realized his natural curiosity hadn’t gotten them all in trouble with their hosts. In fact, these lycans appeared so overly gentle and full of love and understanding that they almost didn’t seem real.
Although Ryan had asked the question, Orin continued to address Ambrose. “The usual solutions that have worked for centuries are still in place – drugs, physical restraints, special containment cells and things like that. And of course, not all lycans are affected at every full moon. It’s somewhat random, and because of that, our scientists believe a total ‘cure’ will someday be possible.”
Ambrose nodded but Ryan could not tell if the old guy was truly interested on not. “That sounds very promising.”
Dillon, who had been listening with obvious interest, had kept quiet till now. “Well I sure hope so! You have no idea what’s it’s like to not have any control over yourself.”
He cast a glance at Emma, and Ryan caught it. Something was going on between them and he made a mental note to quiz her on it later. Not that she’d tell him anything she didn’t want to.
“Wellll, researchers are encouraged by the facts that luning is random and also that it does not appear until the onset of adolescence,” said Orin. “If they can isolate whatever it is that inhibits or suppresses the condition in our young, we will be finally be free of our wild and predatory past.”
In the front room, Ben sat on the floor helping his younger sister Ella Grace piece together a jigsaw puzzle. They looked like regular kids – cute kids – and he couldn’t imagine either of them ever having to be locked up in cages while they suffered through an uncontrollable urge to rip the flesh from their prey.
Here was just one more aspect of this world into which he and Emma had been flung that tested his abilities not simply to survive, but believe that someday he would truly escape it.
At one point Orin and Irina asked Emma and him how they ended up in Nocturnia in the first place, and he gave them a short summary of their search for their brother, the tornado, and how they’d been snatched out the air by Dr. Koertig. Eventually the conversation drifted on to other things among the adults as Ryan began to get lost in his own thoughts about their predicament. Looking at the others in the room, he found himself unconsciously evaluating them and how much they could be trusted, how much he should expect from each of them. Cal and Ambrose seemed earnest and completely trustworthy, but Ryan wondered if they had become a bit complacent with their lot – that they would never leave Nocturnia – and were not as driven to escape.
And then there wa
s Dillon.
Just what was going on with him? He could tell Emma liked him, but if he was a lycan – even though he claimed to be a no-carn, pro-human lycan – what did that really mean? If Emma didn’t seem to… like him so much, Ryan wouldn’t have given it much thought. But she was his sister, and no way would he let her get involved in anything that might hurt her. He felt the same about Telly, even though his brother seemed to have adapted to this world with ease.
Just thinking about Telly reminded Ryan of how he’d almost been responsible for his capture at the hands of that monster Falzon. Ryan shook his head, disgusted with his stupidity. No way he’d ever be so careless again.
Several hours passed as everyone slipped in and out of the conversations. Stories and anecdotes from lycans and humans wove a tapestry of growing friendship among them. Ryan liked the Jantz family a lot, although Orin’s habit of drawing out the word “Wellll…” got a little old after a while. But they sounded like true and complete allies of the human rights movement on this world. They were genuinely kind and caring, and they way they dressed and spoke reminded him of what he imagined real hippies were like.
Ryan had experienced an instant good feeling about this family from the moment he stepped through their door. He’d always been good at reading people – all the better for his magic tricks – but his reads had seemed to grow sharper and quicker since his arrival in Nocturnia. What was it with this place?
Whatever, he felt safe and comfortable with the Jantzes.
Finally, Ambrose stood and stretched, arching his back to get out the kinks. “I am sorry, Orin, but I fear I am running out of steam. We should all get some rest so we can be off and out of your lives.”
Orin stood as well shaking hands with Ambrose. “Now you know you’re welcome here as long as you need be. No rush at all.”
“Where are you going next?” said Irina.
Ryan could tell from the way his group all fell silent looking at one another that it was a question that no one had considered.
“Ah…I suppose I should get back to the nearest N3 station and check in with my bosses. They should be very happy to get my on-the-scene report from the Balmore attack.”
Family Secrets Page 5