Broken Dreams (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 5)

by D. W. Moneypenny

  “It’s the front door. I’ll be right back,” he said, exiting through an arched entryway.

  Mara could hear his footsteps echoing for what seemed a long time before the muffled sounds of a door latch being turned, indicating he had arrived at the front of the house. She ate part of her sandwich as she heard a conversation that seemed a little heated, a rapid back-and-forth of one person convincing another of something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Then the door closed. The footsteps echoed again, but, on the return trip, they were out of step somehow.

  When Ping returned through the kitchen’s entryway, he stepped aside and leaned a hip against the counter. He held out his hand and said, “This young man wants to see you.”

  Sam stepped into the room. “I told you. I’m her brother.” He walked over to the table and said, “Hey, sis. It’s about time you showed up.”

  He didn’t quite look like himself. He wore brown corduroy slacks, suspenders over a loose linen button-up shirt and a herringbone newsboy cap. For a moment she doubted he was her Sam.

  “Young man, I told you the progenitor does not have a brother,” Ping said.

  Sam pointed at Mara and said, “This one does. Ain’t that right, sis?”

  “You sound like my brother, but you sure don’t look like him. How did you find me?” she asked.

  He sat down before the plate on the table, grabbed a sandwich and stuffed it into his mouth. He said something incomprehensible through the bread and cold cuts he chewed.

  Mara reached across the table, took the hat off his head and hung it on the back of his chair. “When wearing a hat, take it off when you come inside, and also stop talking with your mouth full.”

  “Speaking of manners, who invited you to lunch?” Ping asked.

  “What? You don’t have enough to share?” Sam asked after swallowing. “You seem a lot more uptight than our Ping. Have a seat and grab a bite.”

  Ping glanced at Mara, and she nodded. Turning back to her brother, she said, “How did you know I was here?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Duh. The place is called the Progenitor’s Manor. Once I heard that, I thought the odds were good you would be around here somewhere. Well, either you or your counterpart from this realm. Either way, we thought it would be good to get in touch.”

  “How can you tell I’m not the Mara from this realm?”

  He’d already taken another bite of his sandwich and pointed at Mara’s leg instead of responding.

  Mara looked down, then back at him and said, “What?”

  Ping interjected, “I believe he means your clothing. You’re not dressed like someone from this realm. People here don’t wear … I believe they are called blue jeans. I would have mentioned it earlier, but, to be frank, I wasn’t sure how mentally stable you were, so I let it go for the time being.”

  Sam tapped his nose with a finger and continued chewing.

  Mara wasn’t sure if Sam agreed with the part about the blue jeans or her mental stability but didn’t care enough to ask. She nibbled at the edges of her sandwich, waiting for Sam to swallow. When he did, he reached for another sandwich, and she grabbed his arm.

  “Why don’t you take a breath and tell me where Ping is before you shovel another load into your mouth?” she said.

  He slumped back into his chair and sighed. “He’s back at the hotel, keeping an eye on Abby.”

  “Abby? You guys found Abby? Ping told me when we spoke through the holographic interface that you hadn’t seen her,” Mara said.

  “That was last week. A couple days ago, some of the employees at the hotel said they heard a rumor of a strangely dressed, delusional girl running around the streets in the northeast. We thought it might be you, so we spent a whole day tracking down the rumors until we spotted her on a bench in Woodlawn Park.”

  “Time must run differently here,” she said. “And what about the Aphotis?”

  Sam shook his head. “Ping doesn’t think she’s possessed any longer. She’s disoriented and confused, like she’s had some kind of mental breakdown, but there’s no sign of the Aphotis, no metaphysical hinky stuff, no strange voices or anything like that.”

  “Pardon me,” Ping said, “What is an Aphotis?”

  “A disembodied metaphysical demon that possessed Mara’s buddy and tried to take over the world—well, the robot world where you people came from before you gave up your bodies and started living in this dream realm,” Sam said.

  Ping went pale.

  Mara rolled her eyes. “I hate when you spew out things in the worse possible light.”

  “Can I have another sandwich now?” he asked.

  “Please, put something in your mouth.”

  Ping cleared his throat. “Something aphotic thrives in darkness. Does that have something to do with this demon that possessed your friend?”

  “I believe that’s where the name comes from,” Mara said. She wadded up her napkin and tossed it onto her plate which still held half of her sandwich.

  “I’m more interested in the nature of this creature and where it is at the moment than I am in its etymology,” he said.

  “The nature of the Aphotis is this. It’s a dead man’s soul that possessed my friend Abby and believes it has a metaphysical calling to battle me in some twisted effort to define the nature of Reality. As far as what happened to it, I can’t tell you that. It sounds like we should talk to Ping—our Ping—and see if he has any thoughts about why Abby showed up in this realm without it.”

  “Is there a chance that this thing is loose in our realm?”

  “I don’t know. I just got here. Remember?”

  He turned to Sam, who shrugged while continuing to chew.

  “It concerns me that something noncorporeal might be loose in this realm—which is, in essence, a noncorporeal Reality. The dangerous threat to the minds of the people who live here could be significant,” he said.

  “I don’t see the point in getting worked up before we confirm we have a problem,” Mara said. “For all we know, the Aphotis is still stuck in Abby’s body in the receptacle.”

  “Clearly you were concerned enough about this creature to cross over to this Reality,” Ping said.

  “After I communicated with Ping—our Ping—I thought the black holes, or chasms as you call them, were caused by the Aphotis. The people’s fear affected their physical bodies back in the receptacles, and the repository doctors were getting concerned. So that’s why I crossed over. I had no idea that my counterpart’s absence had occurred or that it had caused the problem.”

  “So now that you’re here, the black holes have stopped?” Sam asked.

  “It would appear so,” Ping answered for her.

  “I guess one progenitor is just as good as another,” Sam said.

  Ping turned to Mara. “We refer to the Mara from this realm as the progenitor because it is from her mind that this Reality came into being. Since you are not from here, I find it odd you seem familiar with the term. Are you known as the progenitor in your realm?”

  “Yes, she is,” Sam said.

  Mara raised a hand and wiped the air as if erasing his words. “No, I am not known as a progenitor throughout my realm. Not like the Mara in this place.”

  “But you are familiar with the word—progenitor?”

  “Yes, but we define it differently than you do. I am not responsible for creating the realm in which I live.”

  “But she can shape Reality with her mind,” Sam said.

  A tall sandy-haired man in his mid-forties stepped into the kitchen from the hall. “Really? I bet that’s quite something to see.” He grinned as he entered the room. His features turned more serious as he approached the table, his gaze locked on Sam.

  Mara, whose back was to the kitchen’s entryway, recognized the voice and gasped. Twisting in her chair, she grabbed its back and held on tight.

  “Dad?”

  CHAPTER 9

  Her father—or rather, her counterpart’s father—patted Mara’s
shoulder but didn’t look at her or say anything when he walked to the table. His face had gone ashen as he stared at Sam, who stared back, mute, with a glint of hope in his eyes. Though she knew the details were likely different in this realm, she was sure she understood the tension in the room. While Ping had said a few minutes ago that her counterpart did not have a brother, that didn’t mean she had never had one. After all, the Sam from her realm had died as an infant, and she didn’t find out this until discussing it with her mother—after Sam’s arrival during the crash of Flight 559 when he had crossed over from his realm. Obviously this version of her father recognized Sam but was astonished to see him.

  With doubt and joy battling to shape the contours of his face, Christopher Lantern blinked twice. In almost a whisper, he asked, “What is your name, young man?”

  Sam cleared his throat and swallowed, then stammered his response. “I am Sam. I mean, my name is Sam.”

  The man’s face went a lighter shade of pale, and Mara worried he might faint or something. She stood and took his elbow. “Here, take my seat,” she said.

  Continuing to stare across the table, he grabbed the back of the chair and lowered himself as if he wasn’t sure his knees would hold up. Mara took the seat across from Ping—now positioned between her father and brother. She waited for one of them to say something, but they stared—her father needed time to absorb what he was seeing, and her brother was at a loss for words.

  Ping broke the silence. “Am I correct in believing that you recognize this young man, Dr. Lantern?”

  He’s a doctor, like my dad.

  Without taking his gaze off Sam, Dr. Lantern turned his head in Ping’s direction and said, “He looks remarkably like my son—whose name was also Sam—but who died when he was three years old after falling down a flight of stairs at home.”

  “When he arrived here a short while ago, he claimed to be Mara’s brother,” Ping said. “And Mara claims that she is not the Mara we know but a doppelgänger from an alternate Reality. She appears to accept him as her brother.”

  Dr. Lantern turned to her, eyed her clothing for a brief second and said, “Explain.”

  “It’s true. I’m Mara, but a different version of her from a different realm,” she said. Indicating her brother, she added, “And this is Sam, a version of your son, albeit from a realm in which he did not die as a young child.”

  The right corner of her father’s lips pressed together and turned downward—a tic he had when he doubted something. Seeing it didn’t surprise her since she had inherited his skeptical nature, something her mother enjoyed pointing out. Oddly he didn’t challenge her—something her own version of him would have done.

  His gaze turned back to Sam, who looked back, wide-eyed. “Does he talk?”

  “Usually I can’t get him to shut up,” Mara said. “To be fair though, you caught him by surprise.”

  “I caught him by surprise?”

  “Sam’s never met his father before,” Mara said. “We—Mom and I—have been discussing a way to introduce him to my father—my realm’s version of you—but it’s a little tough to explain to a man that his dead son wants to get to know him.”

  “Tell me about it,” her father said. “Wait a minute. Your father is not his father? I’m confused.”

  “Sam and I are not from the same realm. It’s a long story—that I’m sure he would love to tell you when he’s not being a mute stump.”

  “Why not just let them meet and let the chips fall where they may?”

  “What?” Mara was still paying more attention to her father’s face than his words.

  “Sam and your father.”

  “Oh! We were afraid he would get hurt.”

  “Sam or his father?”

  “Either. Both.”

  “You can’t fix everything, Mara.”

  Mara smiled. “My dad always says that.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “No, I mean, my version of you says that, back in my realm,” she said.

  The right corner of his lips tightened again.

  “You’re not buying any of this. Are you? The whole alternate-reality thing?”

  “I believe something is going on. You disappeared for more than a week, and now you are back, although dressed a little strangely. And I have to admit that Sam here resembles what I had imagined your brother would look like if he’d had the chance to grow up. But alternative versions of people from other realities? That’s a lot to swallow at one sitting.”

  “I understand. It took me a while to come around when I first met Sam, but we’ve got some compelling evidence that I think will convince you,” she said. She glanced over at her brother and then at Ping. “Don’t we, Sam?”

  He took a second to catch on. “Oh, yeah. We’ve got Ping.”

  Dr. Lantern glanced at Ping.

  “Not that Ping,” Sam said. “The other one, our Ping. We brought one with us.”

  “Where is this second Ping?” he asked.

  “He’s at the hotel just off the southeast corner of the square, taking care of a friend of ours,” Sam said.

  “Taking care? Is something wrong with this friend?” Dr. Lantern asked.

  “It’s my friend Abby,” Mara said. “She had been through a lot lately. I want to check on her as soon as we are done here.”

  Ping interjected, “I’m not sure it would be such a good idea for you to go into town right now. Word hasn’t gotten out about your return, and just popping up will cause a scene.”

  “A scene? What kind of scene?” Mara asked.

  “A mob of people wanting to see you. You’ve been gone a week, and now that you are back, the chasms have stopped. Everyone will want to give you a hero’s welcome home, and there won’t be any way to deter them,” Ping said. “You would be swamped before you got near your friend.”

  Dr. Lantern nodded. “That’s true. I’m heading out that way on a house call. I’ll take Sam. We can stop by and pick up your friend—and your Ping, if he exists—on the way back. If need be, everyone can stay here. There’s plenty of room. And that will give me a chance to get to know Sam. All agreed?” Without waiting for an answer, he answered for everyone. “Agreed.”

  “No, not agreed,” Mara said. “I’m a little concerned it might not be safe for you to deal with Abby without me being there.”

  “You’re concerned about the metaphysical demon you mentioned before?” Ping asked.

  “What?” Dr. Lantern asked.

  Sam waved a hand in the air. “There has been no sign of the Aphotis since Abby arrived. I think Dad and I can get her back here with no trouble.”

  Mara glanced at her father when Sam called him Dad. That doubtful corner of his mouth turned up, a change so subtle that no one else would notice, but she did.

  Dr. Lantern stood up and said, “Let’s go, Sam. My wagon’s out front.”

  After they left the kitchen and Mara heard the front door close behind them, Mara turned to Ping and asked, “What am I supposed to do while they’re gone?”

  He stood up and cleared the plates from the table. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

  “What would your Mara be doing if she were here?”

  “Most likely you’d be working on something in the steam lab or the fabrication shop. You’re always working on some invention or gizmo,” he said, putting the dishes in the sink and then turning around to lean against the counter.

  Mara stood up from her seat at the table and walked toward the hall. “Steam lab? That sounds interesting. Is it this way?”

  CHAPTER 10

  The hall leading from the kitchen to the front door bisected the manor. To the left was a wide staircase with an ornate banister of polished dark wood. Through its spindles, a red patterned runner climbed the center of the risers. To the right, a textured off-white wall shot up beyond the first flight of stairs. A pair of doors, also polished dark wood, stood halfway between the front of the house and the kitchen entryway. Mara stopped at the two
doors and rattled the doorknobs. Locked.

  Ping hurried up to her and said, “That’s the fabrication shop. It’s locked.”

  Mara shook the knob again and said, “So I can see. You got a key?”

  “I thought you wanted to see the steam laboratory. That might be a better idea for now,” he said.

  “Steam lab it is. Where is that?” she asked.

  Ping held out a hand toward the front of the staircase. Mara eyed the locked doors for a second and said, “Is there something in here that I should not see?”

  “Of course not. We’d have to go to the steam lab to get the key anyway.” Ping led her past the front door and the foot of the staircase into a hall extending into the left side of the house. After one hundred feet, they came to another set of double doors. Ping reached for the doorknob but paused. “It might be a good idea for you not to touch anything inside,” he said.

  “I thought this was my steam laboratory. Why shouldn’t I do whatever I want in there?” Mara said. She crossed her arms for added emphasis.

  “Well, it is your lab,” Ping said. “But since you claim to not be Mara …”

  “You can’t have it both ways, Ping. Either I’m Mara or I’m not. Either you believe what I told you or you don’t.” She stepped toward the door. She was more interested in getting him to admit that he believed her than getting inside the lab.

  He held up a hand. “Very well. I believe you. All the more reason to be careful inside. There are volatile substances, and I don’t want to explain to your counterpart why half her house is missing when she gets back.”

  “So you accept Dad and Sam will return later with another version of yourself. You admit that’s a possibility?”

  “I’m not ready to go that far. Let me put it this way. I’m convinced you are not quite yourself, and I’m open to that possibility. You must admit that is further than you would go if you were in my shoes. We both know that’s true.”

  “All right. I promise to be careful. Can we go in now?”

  Ping turned the knob and pushed open both doors. Mara’s breath caught in her throat. The room before them was cavernous, soaring through the second story of the house. It was so wide and deep it took up this side of the manor, though it was difficult to be sure. Dozens of pipes and hoses hung suspended above an equipment-laden doughnut-shaped counter in the center of the room.