The house was losing its battle with the vines growing near the kitchen window. Tenacious tendrils curled around it as though seeking refuge from the cold. In the garden rows of staked tomatoes drooped on the ground, victims of a climate that didn’t seem to care for them.
Deklan knocked on the door.
“You aren’t biometrically coded in?” asked Susan.
“Shush.”
“What if they aren’t here?”
Deklan pointed to his left. “Cars are in the driveway.”
“They might be busy.”
“Shush.”
Susan’s next helpful contribution was interrupted by the door’s opening.
Deklan was always taken aback by how diminutive his mother was in person. Her loud voice and big personality tended to make one forget that she was only a meter sixty in height. He spared a glance at his mother’s small and delicate hands that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a child. Before smothering her in a hug, he rested his head atop her ear-length brown hair.
“Hi, Mom.” This was always the best part of the visit, the moment before anyone started talking.
“Deklan! What are you doing here and showing up unannounced? It’s as though you really do think that you’re a secret agent. Oh! And who is this?”
“Remember when I called you about that vacation?”
“What? No. Oh, yes. What about it?”
“We have to leave soon if we want to keep our bookings.”
“Forget about the Terra Rings. Who is this?”
“Mom, meet Susan. Susan, meet my mother.”
“So nice to meet you, Susan! Please come in. Would you like some tea? Did Deklan meet you on one of those websites that I keep telling him about?”
Susan opened her mouth to respond but was overwhelmed by the avalanche that was Mrs. Tobin.
“It’s so nice to meet another girl. Brice, my husband, and I have been so worried about Deklan. A mother’s work is never over. I’m sure you’ll know that one day. Do you like ginger or mint tea? We have an entire box of flavors, but I do so enjoy those two.”
“Well, actually. . . .”
“Where are my manners? Would you like some cookies or chocolate? Maybe you’re hungry from the drive? Yes, I’m sure you are. Let me get you a sandwich to go with that tea. How does corned beef with sauerkraut, mustard, and cheese—all toasted—sound to you?”
“That sounds good,” piped up Deklan.
“Oh good! Then you can make two while Susan and I get better acquainted.”
Deklan’s fingertips caused half-moon indentations in his palms. “Um, Mom, Susan and I aren’t dating.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not dating. She’s just a friend who happens to be coming on this trip.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Tobin pondered this disappointing information for a moment before turning to Susan. “Don’t worry, dear. You can still have the sandwich and tea.”
“Mom, we need to get going soon,” interjected Deklan. “Where’s Dad?”
“Your father is busy staring at a chocolate bar.”
Deklan was brought up short. “He’s staring at a chocolate bar?”
“Yes. It’s pretty much all he’s done for the last day.”
Deklan checked the thought that sprang to mind upon mention of the “last day.”. “Okay, so where is he staring at the chocolate bar?”
“He’s in the kitchen, where you should be making those sandwiches.” Mrs. Tobin turned to Susan. “I don’t blame you for not dating him, dear. He’s easy enough on the eyes but just a little slow on the uptake. Still, good men are hard to come by. Mint or ginger?”
“Ginger, please.”
“Excellent choice. Do you take sugar?”
Deklan left Susan to his mother’s tender mercies and went to find his father in the kitchen. Walking through the door, he stopped to take stock of the situation.
Brice Tobin sat on a stool next to the kitchen’s island. His big frame was hunched forward and his forehead furrowed in concentration as he gazed upon his target. In front of him was a Twix bar. To his left was a mountain of wrappers threatening to escape from a plastic trash bin. To his right was a series of plates stacked with heaping mounds of individual Twix bars. Behind him were empty boxes of Twix bars alongside others that were as yet unopened.
Deklan pulled up a stool next to his father and waited a minute before speaking. “Dad, what are you doing?”
“Hi, son. When did you get here?”
“Just now.”
“Want a Twix?”
Deklan looked at the pile of Twix bars. “Sure?”
His father pointed toward the plates on his right. “Well, have one, or even a few.”
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to make more chocolate.”
“I feel as though maybe I’m missing part of the story.”
“Haven’t you spoken to your mother?”
“Yes. Now about the Twix bars. . . .”
“I swear, that woman never does anything helpful.”
Deklan snapped his fingers. “Dad, the Twix bars?”
Deklan’s father shrugged, his gaze locked on the plate before him. “It’s easier if I show you.” He held out a hand. “Here, pass me a new box.”
With some mild concern Deklan handed his father an unopened box.
Still keeping his attention focused on the bar in front of him, Brice Tobin opened the box with his right hand and pulled a fresh wrapper from its place among its peers. “Watch this,” he said.
Shifting his gaze from the Twix in front of him, Brice looked down at the wrapper and then put the lone Twix on top of one of the stacks to his right. He then opened the new Twix wrapper, spilling three new bars onto the plate in front of him. He repeated the trick with a new wrapper. “It’s incredibly annoying,” he groused. “I can only make new bars when I open a wrapper, but not whenever I want. If I could just figure this out, I could make millions.”
“Dad, are you telling me that you’re a Keystone and that your ability is limited to Twix bars?”
“Yes.”
“So you couldn’t make two Snickers bars fall out of a package?”
“Nope. I tried.”
Deklan asked his next question for the entertainment value that he was sure would follow. “How many different types of chocolate bars have you tried this on?”
“The grocery store sells sixty-three different types of chocolate bars.”
“You’ve tried them all, haven’t you?”
“You betcha.”
“And it only works with Twix?”
“So far.”
Deklan waited for his father to say more, but as the minutes passed it grew apparent that he had returned to his contemplation of the Twix in front of him. “I see, and so your plan is to do what exactly?”
“Figure out how to make more Twix bars without opening the wrappers. Then go meet with the Twix executives about a manufacturing contract.” Brice spoke as though the idea were the most reasonable thing in the world.
Deklan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this why you don’t want to go to Terra Ring Two?”
“No, of course not.”
Deklan gave his father a long look, waiting for him to squirm.
Brice glanced at his son, tugged at his earlobe, and returned to scrutinizing his Twix bars, but he looked much less comfortable than before. “Well, yes, maybe,” he admitted.
“You can practice on the trip!” Deklan said in exasperation.
“What if they don’t sell Twix there?”
Deklan threw his hands up in the air. “They sell Twix everywhere!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! If you don’t believe me, go online and check.”
Brice made a rumbling sound that Deklan knew signaled cogitation. “I’m still not sure about this, son.”
Deklan rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Dad, it’s a vacation to the Terra Rings. What is there no
t to be sure about?”
“What if someone else can make Twix bars and masters the technique before I do?”
Deklan thought about the likelihood of that happening given the chaos that he saw looming on the horizon. “That’s not going to happen.”
“How can you be sure?”
Deklan counted to ten in his head. “I’ll take you to see the Molson zero-gravity cheerleading tryouts while we’re up there.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I won’t tell Mom.”
“Deal.”
He smacked his father on the back. “Great! Start packing. I want to leave today.”
Deklan returned to the living room to find that his mother had Susan pinned in place, asking questions after having forgotten her offer of tea. For her part Susan’s eyes were screaming. Deklan decided to rescue her.
“Dad’s agreed to come on this trip, Mom. Are we leaving you here, or do you think that you’ll be joining us?”
This comment diverted Tricia’s attention away from Susan. “Your father is leaving behind his Twix bars?” she asked in surprise.
“Twix bars?” interjected a befuddled Susan.
Deklan shook his head at her, trying to convey all of the situation’s ridiculousness in as little a time as possible. “Don’t ask,” he said to Susan. “It’s a Keystone thing.” Then to his mother he replied, “Yes, he’s leaving the Twix bars for a while. You should probably try to capitalize on this development and divert his interests to anything else that you can think of. A vacation might help with that.”
“Well, I guess we could do that.” His mother had lost her head of steam. It was the best time to get anything done, her son knew.
“It’s decided then!” said Deklan with forced cheer. “Now why don’t you and Dad start packing?”
Deklan ushered his parents up the stairs and heaved a sigh of relief before turning to Susan. “Do you actually want that tea or a sandwich?”
“No. No.” Susan stretched out the second ”No” over three seconds. “I think I’m okay. I may never want tea or sandwiches again.”
“Understandable,” Deklan replied, thinking about how he felt after one of his mother’s interrogations. “Do you want a mixed drink?”
“Yes!” Susan’s response was as crisp and fast as the previous one had been slow.
Surprised by her vehemence, Deklan laughed. “Come along. The sideboard is over here. You’ll have your pick of the options.”
As Susan pored over the selection, Deklan contemplated how he would pay for the vacation. Using his Uplink, he searched for options that were within his price range for travel to Terra Ring Two. Prices to go up an Elevator had dropped and were growing ever more affordable, but that didn’t mean that it was an inconsequential expense.
He was also unsure of his obligation to Susan. They had somehow become connected to one another, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic of arranging the next step of their journey, or if they would be continuing together. An alert beeped on his Uplink and another on Susan’s.
Susan looked up from her clinking ice and glanced at the new text scrolling across her screen. “Did you just buy me a ticket to the Terra Rings?” she asked.
“No.” On his screen was confirmation of four tickets up the Elevator and lodgings once they arrived. Deklan thought a second more. “Have you received any notes from unknown sources?”
“No.”
“Pity. I’m wondering whether I’m the only person being led around by the nose.”
“Led around by the nose?”
Deklan waved his hand in the air as he kept scrolling through information on his screen. “The car rental and the trip. I’d feel like a puppet if everything so far didn’t exactly coincide with what I want.”
“Does it worry you?”
Deklan shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. “No more than the idea of animals wiping out humanity, no.”
Susan sipped from her glass again. “So it does worry you?”
He looked at her sideways. “Of course, it worries me! I just can’t think of any alternatives.”
“You could make different bookings,” she said.
Deklan poured himself a steadying drink while he gathered his words. “I could, but the car worked out okay.” He stopped and allowed himself a grin as he thought about the Spiro. “And, well, cash has been tight. Do you feel like paying for different bookings?”
Susan played with her Uplink screen for a moment. “Not really.”
“Well, then, our course is set. Speaking of which, I should tell them that we have a flight tomorrow. Oh yes, are you coming with us?”
“I think I have to.”
Her words, Deklan recognized, were a far cry from those of the woman who had advocated proceeding with caution just a few hours earlier. “Have to?” he queried.
“Well, once everyone figures this out, there’s going to be a huge panic. This might be my only chance. I think you’re stuck with me.”
“Good. It’ll be nice to have sane company. I’m going to let my parents finish packing before telling them when our flight is. If you’re hungry, there are several hundred Twix bars in the kitchen.” The lightness in his tone faded away. “That reminds me. We can’t tell other people about this.”
“What?”
“Friends, coworkers, acquaintances. We can’t tell them about this until we get to Boa Vista.”
“Why not?”
Deklan was ashamed at the cold math that compelled his reasoning. “Remember the quarantines from when your parents died? This could be a lot worse.”
Worried Wings
Sebastian loved his new wings. The sheer joy of flight had inspired him to spend every possible moment aloft. In what little time he spent on the ground he was eating more than ever before and could see increases in his upper-body muscle mass. It was most obvious near his shoulders.
Since meeting Deklan he’d had less time to fly and enjoy himself because every time he darted over the city he saw a new emergency that he couldn’t in good conscience ignore. It wasn’t just dogs. He had rescued a pair of young women from a squirrel that could fly and was attacking them.
After what had felt like a lifetime of ruining other people’s lives in the name of efficiency, spending his days flying and helping people was immensely gratifying. He had been caught on camera more than once, and the news stations had begun calling him Michael, because of his resemblance to a guardian angel.
The escalating animal attacks, however, were worrisome. There were more every hour.
All of the animals were Keystones, and the range of what they could do was phenomenal. A cat spewing acid had tried to attack him. Another time he’d seen something small and furry bouncing around like an animated ping-pong ball. Sebastian’s speed and height above the ground had served him well. It was no problem for him to escape since nothing followed him into the sky, not even the psychotic squirrel. He was glad that no pigeons had decided to challenge him in their territory.
With no friends or family to speak of, and still too shy to make use of his growing celebrity to meet new people, Sebastian decided to get in touch with Deklan Tobin. There was no one from his old life he wanted to talk to, and of all the people that he’d saved since he got his wings Deklan was the only one to have given him a business card.
To call Deklan he needed his Uplink, and to get his Uplink he’d need to go inside his apartment. That meant facing his biggest fear since acquiring his wings—claustrophobia.
Sebastian landed on his balcony and slid the unlocked door open. He looked into his apartment; it was the same battle each time. He could do this, he knew, but that didn’t stop his stomach from doing jumping jacks or trickles of sweat from forming on his face as he anticipated what was next. Tucking his wings onto his back, he ran through the door and over to his desk. There he grabbed his Uplink and bolted back out the door.
This time hadn’t been so bad. He stood on his balcony with hi
s wings wrapped around him and used voice activation on his Uplink, a tablet model, to enter Deklan’s contact information. Tightness grew in his chest like a vice as he completed the process and waited for an answer.
Packing
Deklan left Susan downstairs sipping her drink while he harangued his mother about the need to pack. She was full of the usual complaints. There wasn’t enough time; he was being unreasonable; she didn’t know what to pack. None of these objections stopped her from gliding in and out of her closet in a complex ballet that added clothes to her suitcase while removing other items and returning them to the shelves from whence they came. It was like watching sand amass at a beach.
His father was another matter. The first four shirts in his drawer were packed along with one pair of shorts, one pair of pants, enough boxers for the week, a pair of sneakers, a pair of unfashionable sandals, and a pair of swim trunks just in case. Done with the process, Brice Tobin returned to his vigil over the Twix bars.
As Deklan was despairing of his mother’s ever closing her suitcase, his Uplink alerted him to an incoming connection. “Deklan, is that you?” With his wrist held up to his face, the small screen display showed Sebastian standing in a well-lit space. A shy nervousness was apparent in his features. He didn’t face the camera head-on and kept looking over his shoulder.
Deklan was surprised but not displeased. “Sebastian?” he said. “What can I do for you?”
Relief washed over Sebastian’s face. “Oh, good, you remember me.”
“Of course I do. Given the interesting times that we live in, you are, in fact, the only person with a ten-meter wingspan who’s carried me to a hospital recently.” Deklan’s mother’s head jerked up at the comment. He waved at her in a vague “Not now” motion while exiting the room.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Besides, you’re the only person I’ve ever been on TV with.”
“You saw that then?”
“I’ve been busy since I saw you last, but, yes, I saw that video. The Internet and news stations seem to have a lot of footage of you helping people. How do you feel about the name Michael?” An expression flitted over Sebastian’s face and was gone before Deklan could interpret it.
Keystones: Altered Destinies Page 8