by D. N. Leo
And then she saw Kate’s black velvet dress, her favorite.
Dinah’s tears flowed freely.
Her best friend was really dead.
Kate was like her sister, the only person she knew and trusted in Iilos, and even in the multiverse. The thought of being left by herself in the vast multiverse was terrifying.
After the grief hit her, Dinah felt her blood boil. She understood that she and Kate were outlanders in any universe. They weren’t asking for any rights. But Kate’s death was undignified. Her body had been mangled and distorted, and her essence had been lost. Her friend deserved better. Lady Iilos had sworn to the multiverse she would make all creatures equal. This was the time. She would ask for her friend’s body, regardless of the shape it was in, so it could be properly buried.
It was a crime scene, so they would want to keep the body for investigation. But she would fight. She would get Kate’s body back at any cost.
She flicked through pictures. The close-up, graphic photos of the body parts were disturbing. She touched the screen when she saw a close-up photo of the mark below the nape of Kate’s neck. She saw the round shape of multiple circles, one inside the other, branded on her skin. It wasn’t a meaningless tattoo. It was the mark of a jumper—the word they used to describe those who had jumped through the aperture of the multiverse.
Dinah absently touched the mark at the back of her own neck.
She flicked to the next photo.
Very few people in the multiverse knew about this mark. Detective Tanner must have been curious because he had taken several pictures of it.
Wait!
Dinah flicked back to the previous picture. That was Kate’s mark. She flicked again to the next one. Although the body was distorted from the explosion, she was damn sure that wasn’t Kate’s neck she was looking at. She zoomed in on the picture. It was definitely the mark of a jumper.
Another jumper at the same crime scene? It was almost impossible. The odds of having two total strangers who were both jumpers at the same location was as rare as the occurrence of the aperture.
She looked at the time stamp in the corner of the picture. It was the same day but much earlier in the day. She flicked to the next picture and saw another person with the mark, but it had been taken the day before. There were more and more pictures with marks on other individuals, and she wasn’t sure now if they were natives to Iilos, space creatures, or outlanders like herself.
She kicked her chair back and rested her face in the palms of her hands. Someone or something was going on a killing spree, exploding jumpers. Why?
4
Madeline nuzzled into the neck of her husband and breathed in the scent of him. She was lying on top of him, so she let her long brunette curls drape over his chest and half of his face. She knew he liked that. But he didn’t just lie there and take her commands. He was so incredibly inventive in lovemaking that she would never be able to keep up with his moves. Just like now. He went straight to a point she didn’t expect. She yelped then bit lightly at his neck, behind his ear.
“First councillor, we have a meeting and a live broadcast shortly. Can you spare me the embarrassment of appearing in front of six hundred billion citizens with a hickey on my neck?” Ciaran said.
“Keep calling me first councillor and you’ll definitely have a hickey.”
“First councillor… Ouch!”
Madeline chuckled as her husband began to moan with pleasure. The deep sound coming from his throat always turned her on even more. Out there, he was king of a universe—a warrior and a man who knew it all. But in this room, in this bed, he was her man—the center of her universe. And she knew she was his. With their children, they were at the pinnacle of this family universe. It was something that a year ago, as a journalist in New York, she wouldn’t have imagined in her wildest dreams.
The door slid open, and Robert, their home robot, rolled in. Robert had human shape and size and had been designed by Ciaran’s father several years ago. He was a learning robot, and his sense of sarcasm had improved greatly by being around Ciaran and herself.
“Obviously, you wheeled in instead of sing the intercom because there’s something of urgency on a galactic level that you need to call to our attention to,” Madeline said.
“Nothing can justify your intrusion, Robert,” Ciaran scolded.
“You have given me permission to intrude if there is a code red message, master!”
Ciaran sat up. “Did you hear that? I bet you learned that from my little brother.”
Madeline laughed. Robert had never before called Ciaran “master.” But as a learning machine, he learned new vocabulary every day, and he adopted human behavior and rationalization rapidly.
“I learned it from you, unfortunately,” Robert said.
“All right, so unlearn it, and I’ll install a program that allows you to roll your eyes.”
“Thank you. That would be very helpful.”
Ciaran threw a robe over his shoulders. “What’s the code red message?”
Robert popped open a compartment in the middle section of his body to reveal a folded note.
Ciaran picked up the piece of paper and frowned. “Real paper?”
“Perhaps you can install a program that will allow me to grin. I’m glad you’re pleased, Ciaran. Using real paper instead of an electronic notepad has a high probability of creating a sense of nostalgia, which is a positive feeling in humans.”
Ciaran smiled. “Nostalgia is only good if your memories are positive. But yes, I’m pleased. Thank you. Is that all?”
“Yes, Ciaran. The message is urgent. I’ll leave you to it now.” Robert backed out on his little wheels, and the door of the room slid closed.
Madeline sat on the bed with the blanket wrapped around her body and watched Ciaran as he read the message. When it came to work, he was always focused and intense. She liked watching him work. But taking on the responsibility of king of Eudaiz, a universe far away from Earth, wasn’t the task she had wished for him.
The last few months had been very difficult with the pass through the Daimon Gate and his coronation in this strange universe. She would never get used to the number of scars now he bore on that long, lean, muscular body of his. Being king of Eudaiz gave him a special kind of energy—the eudqi. But he hadn’t had a chance to adapt to the new energy and utilize it properly.
He wasn’t immortal. The eudqi healed almost all injuries, except those where he was hit at the fatal eudqi point on his left shoulder. Madeline frowned at a red scar a few inches away from that point and shuddered.
At that moment, something whizzed past her from behind. Ciaran was looking at her and was about to say something when the object struck him right on his eudqi point.
It was a combat knife.
He hadn’t reacted quickly enough. There wasn’t time for him to say anything. He looked at her as blood streamed from his wound. The hilt of the knife still vibrated from the impact.
She screamed.
“Madeline!”
She heard Ciaran’s voice, calling her name.
“Madeline!”
She felt his arms wrapping around her. She felt every muscle in him quivering.
She opened her eyes groggily. He put her down on the bed and wiped a tear that had fallen onto on her cheek. “You had a psychic episode. You passed out. It must have been bad. I’ll get you some water.”
She grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. “No, don’t leave.”
He sat back down at the bedside. She played with his elegant hands, weaving her fingers in and out of his long ones.
“It was a precognition,” she said.
“Anything I should know about?”
“You were stabbed at your eudqi point.”
He nodded. “I promise to be careful.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I’ll avoid engaging in any situations requiring combat until you feel better.”
She nodded. “That’s bette
r. Who was the message from?”
“It’s from Dex.”
She sat up. “Dex?”
“The marshal from the underworld. We were acquainted during my last trip to Earth.”
“Oh, that Dex. The shapeshifter. What did he want?”
Ciaran sighed. “A package was delivered to one of the underworld jails, and it killed fifty criminals. Dex was called in for an investigation. He found a common and disturbing theme. Twenty out of the fifty deaths were aperture jumpers.”
“That’s impossible. Didn’t we discuss at the council meeting just last week that these apertures have to be identified and closed ASAP? Was it a coincidence that those apertures were on our meeting’s agenda?”
Ciaran shook his head. “It wasn’t a coincidence. I suggested it. Apertures of the multiverse are loops of light and energy. When people jump through, they absorb that light and energy, and it changes them. Mostly, it enhances their current qualities or talents. But that means that evil creatures, those with dark powers, could become invincible if they jump.”
“But you said no person or creature and no system can identify the pattern of their occurrence.”
He looked at her, and she could see a deep concern in his striking gray eyes. “One person did.”
“Person? You mean a human?”
He nodded and sighed and then waved the piece of paper in his hand. “An old friend of mine identified the aperture pattern once, and he left traces of the results of his work in the system. Now, with this killing frenzy, the multiverse is going to go after him. I have to make a trip to Earth to let him know.”
“Why can’t you just call him?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Someone has triggered a hunt for jumpers. I don’t know the reasons for the killing. But it’s not going to stop until whoever triggered it finds what they want. Telling my friend to go into hiding isn’t going to solve this problem.”
“It doesn’t look like I can talk you out of this. So in that case, I’m going with you.”
“What? No! You—”
“Stay home with the children?”
“No, I mean—”
“Last time we talked about this and had an argument, you went straight to Babylon and had a fight.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “That scar is a reminder of how close you were to death. And all because of what, Ciaran?”
“Yes, I get the point. I don’t have the psychic ability that you have. But that time, there was magic involved. And I don’t do magic. This one is pure science. All I need is a computer and some bits and pieces of equipment.”
“Are you sure there’s no spooky stuff involved this time?”
“Regarding the apertures, yes.”
“Regarding things other than the apertures, Ciaran. Things your science can’t explain. You said so yourself. You’ve added so many variables to your scientific equations these days. So much that you are unsure even you can comprehend them. So when your comprehension stops working, you’ll need an irrational psychic like me!”
He grabbed her finger that was still jabbing at his chest. “It could be dangerous.”
“Aha! You just told me it’s only a trip to visit a friend. And now all of a sudden it’s dangerous? You’re contradicting yourself. And you can’t know if there’s anything else involved. In short, you’ll need me!”
He sighed. “Since when did I start losing ground when we argue?”
She grinned and kissed him.
5
Dinah grabbed her bag and stuffed whatever she had at hand in it—her laptop, her notepad, her wrist unit, her weapons, and even her paperweight. She shoved everything into the bag so hard trying to zip it up that she ripped the zipper off. She threw the bag angrily, and it flew from one end of the room to the other. Maybe she needed to cry. The grieving in Kate’s mother’s eyes had been unbearable. But it was better that the news of her daughter’s death came from her than from the police. Dinah could only hold on for so long. She really needed to cry.
A tear rolled down her face. She wiped it away.
This was pathetic. She wasn’t the crying kind. She’d promised Kate’s mother she would find answers. The detective obviously had no clue, or he wouldn’t be wasting time taking pictures of the jumper’s marks. The pattern was obvious—someone or something was killing jumpers.
The aperture of the multiverse was undetectable. To her knowledge, no one—no creature or computer system in the multiverse—could detect the pattern of its occurrence. That meant the identities of those who had stumbled upon the aperture, like herself and Kate, were virtually unknown. She couldn’t imagine the sort of intelligence one would have to possess to be able to identify the jumpers, let alone go around killing them.
Dinah had circled the room so many times, she was making herself dizzy.
Where should she start? She stopped pacing and rushed toward her computer to execute an idea she had just gotten. She placed an anonymous tip about the aperture into Detective Tanner’s inbox. Then she carefully erased all traces of the contact in her system and carried on with her research. A short while later, she stared at the computer screen, grinning. She had found an individual who had identified one cycle of the aperture. It was so unprecedented that the name of the person—a human—had been stored in the multiversal database.
It might be nothing. Identifying one cycle could be as random as stumbling upon an aperture. But at least it was a starting point. She had to get to Earth.
She checked her credit account and sighed. She had only enough money for a one-way ticket on the multiversal transport. Figuring maybe she should just get there and figure out the next step later, she ordered the ticket and then finished packing her bag.
She had a license to carry weapons on board, so she took her combat knives and her guns. How to use her weapons on Earth was another matter. But it was better to have them with her than not.
She had been to Earth before on a business trip to Japan, all expenses paid by the client. She had loaded a language program to her system via a computer chip embedded in the language section of her brain. It was still there.
The individual she would pay a visit to this time was Professor Arik Bonneville from England. Her English was good, but she needed to be sure nothing went wrong, so she updated the English language in her system.
She plugged a small chip into her computer that would identify Arik’s precise current location. From experience, she knew England as a location was much too broad.
She pulled her beloved black leather jumpsuit from the closet and put it on. She always felt in top combat form whenever she wore this suit. It wrapped her body like a second skin no matter how many weapons and how much technology she tucked inside it.
She looked into the mirror and flicked her thumb. This was her favorite function. Two gigantic wings spread out from the back of the suit. And it wasn’t just for show. She could actually fly with them. It was a tailored design a friend from Xiilok had made for her. She turned around and looked at the wings with pride. She looked like a dark angel with those wings, she thought.
She was about to put her usual chunky boots on when she saw the red high heels. She picked them up. She had to admit she liked the look and the feel of them. They were so feminine. Wondering how she would look in the tight leather jumpsuit and those red high-heeled shoes, she decided to put them on.
She recalled watching a movie called Catwoman when she was in Japan. Dressed like this, she thought she looked just like the main character.
The computer beeped an alert. She rushed toward it.
“Oh gosh. No…no. Don’t do this to me!” Because she didn’t have the money to pay for priority class, she’d had to be on standby and take whatever seat was available in the private express teleport shuttle.
And it was available now.
She collapsed her wings, grabbed her bag, and charged out the door.
She zipped into the private cabin as soon as the robot cleared her. The control
board asked for her destination.
“Oh no!” she gasped as she realized she’d left the computer chip with Professor Bonneville’s address in her computer at home. There was no time to go back for it now. She punched in a general location in England. The shuttle leaped up in the air and darted into a dark tunnel. The movement was so abrupt, it made her lose her balance and skid toward the corner of the cabin on the polished floor.
Then she realized she was still wearing her red heels.
She rolled her eyes. Red heels and a tight leather jumpsuit… All she needed was the red-light district, and she’d be perfect for a business in Xiilok they called prosexitution, where creatures traded sexual activities for credits.
“Shouldn’t you verify the location before zooming into the darkness?” she asked the computer, expecting no answer. Then she saw her typo on the screen. She had typed in “Wingland,” and that was apparently where the shuttle was going. She didn’t know if it was a real location, but she was sure it wasn’t where Arik Bonneville was.
She darted toward the control panel and changed the location. The shuttle swung around suddenly, throwing her onto the floor. She scrambled up to her feet and checked the location again. England was spelled correctly now, but she had to narrow it down. She searched the temporary onboard remote system and located Oxford.
It was better, but it was still a large city. She narrowed it down even further. Each time she changed the destination, the shuttle threw her around like a rag doll. She’d adjusted the route too many times and had run out of credits. The shuttle would throw her out soon. If she had to walk, she wanted to be sure to choose a location as close in proximity to Arik as possible.
She had time to enter something she found in her search that looked like a room number before the shuttle ejected her. As she flew through the air, she promised herself that in the future, even if she had enough money to travel with dignity, she would never use the inter-universal transportation system again.