by Lorijo Metz
McKenzie disliked Joanne and Penny, and a couple of the stuck up girls at her school, but to hate, to truly hate someone, was a new sensation. And she hated Wells. Nothing seemed beyond him; torture, murder…even subduing an entire race through addiction. Unfortunately, he was right. Abacis’ and Hayes’ throats would be slit long before she could grab them and disappear. It looked as if, for now, they were trapped. Unless…
What if Wells was dead?
The thought, unspoken, seemed to silence everything around her. The air, oppressively hot, grew heavy. I could do it, she thought, her heart beating like a pair of Tsendi drums. She wanted to do it. She wanted him gone. Out of her life. It would solve everything. Almost everything. And if she could kill Wells, she could also kill Mallos and then everyone would be better off. Right?
McKenzie studied the old man with the smugly satisfied smile on his face. For the first time she realized—completely understood—what it meant to be able to change matter into anything she wanted. McKenzie felt dizzy with power. A simple thought from her, like changing the old man’s heart into what it really was, a stone—a cold lifeless lump of rock—could change everything. The answer was clear; she had the ability, but more important, the responsibility to take one life to save many. Superman was a fool; he should have killed Lex Luther when he had the chance.
McKenzie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Back on Earth, her great-great-great uncle wouldn’t even be alive, she told herself. Another minute and the deed would be done. Wells would die before his heart returned to its original form. “A rock,” she whispered, forming the image in her mind.
Instead of a rock, however, two bright blue orbs appeared.
“The willful forcing of a sentient being into its final resting place
is an unlawful form of particle-weaving.”
McKenzie’s eyes popped open. Pietas! Wells leaned forward, clutching the top of the short wall that separated him from falling into the pit. His face was pale, and one hand was covering his heart. Oh God! Oh God! What have I done!
A murmur of concern arose from the crowd, Wells leaned farther over the wall and—coughed. “Water,” he yelled, standing up and running his fingers through his hair. “Get me water!”
McKenzie was so relieved she almost cried. Wells was alive!
“Times up,” Wells said. “As you insist on ignoring my offer, I believe it is time to start taking some heads.”
“Wait!” There had to be another way. McKenzie had no idea where she was going with this, but it seemed honesty, at this point, was her only option. “Look,” she said, trying to push herself to her feet and falling right back into her wheelchair. “It’s not a Gate, it’s a wheelchair. A bit more high-tech than you’re used to seeing, but just the same, a plain old wheelchair.”
Wells’ face took on a host of emotions: shock, confusion, and anger. McKenzie blazed on not knowing what she was doing but hoping, in time, something would come to her. “Truthfully, I don’t even know what a Gate is. Hayes and I never intended to come to Circanthos. Somehow we got stuck in a portal and now the only way to get home is with the help of a cortext.”
“What nonsense is this?” thundered Wells.
“You know exactly what nonsense, because you have one.” Or had one, she thought. “I spent quite a while in your room. You have a cortext and it’s hidden in that blue chest of yours.”
H.G. Wells became very still. His face, a moment before so red, seemed to drain of all color. His eyes narrowed and suddenly he looked at McKenzie as if seeing her clearly for the first time.
McKenzie hardly dared breathe. Had she done the right thing? Or, had she just given Wells a reason to dispose of them all? If only Hayes could talk, he would know what to do.
Wells motioned to somebody behind him. Mallos stood up.
McKenzie shuddered. So, that’s where he’s been.
“As it so happens,” said Wells, “I do own a… What do you call it? A cortext? Unfortunately, mine seems to be malfunctioning.” He smiled. “Perhaps we can be of assistance to each other.”
The vein in McKenzie’s neck began to throb. Of course, Wells had no idea the cortext would never work for him. “I can help,” she said, forcing a smile. “IF you let Hayes go, and IF you let Abacis and his followers go free.”
Wells laughed. “Don’t press your luck girl!” He turned and whispered something long and windy to Mallos, who then turned, but not before giving McKenzie a menacing look, and limped quickly away.
“Master Hayes and I will go fetch this cortext.” Wells waved his arm and seconds later Hayes was being led out of the pit. He turned back to look at McKenzie. It was tough to tell whether Hayes was more frightened for himself…
Mallos limped into the pit.
…or for her.
Mallos grabbed her under the chin and placed something sharp and cool against her throat.
“Master Hayes will be good enough to assist me with the cortext. Should you try any of your tricks, Mallos has orders to…” Wells swiped a finger across his throat.
Tricks? Of course. If her wheelchair was no longer a Gate, then there was only one way she could have vanished to the other side of the pit. He’d finally realized she could particle-weave. And as soon as Wells and Hayes were out of sight, Mallos, she was certain, had orders to kill her.
Had she really come all this way only to let everyone down? Think! Think McKenzie, think! There has to be another way.
And that’s when it came to her. A feather. A feather was their only way out.
Chapter 47
Excerpt from the personal log of Agent Wink Krumm
Thursday, March 19th
Just outside Avondale
News of the phenomenon has finally trickled down to headquarters. Accordingly Wickersheim, bless his bureaucratic soul, agreed to do some research for me. He discovered the accident that left McKenzie Wu paralyzed, took her mother’s life. Also, that there was no conclusive evidence as to how the crash occurred.
The girl’s father, James Wu, is an inventor. My theory that he is the same “James” who accompanied the two aliens is correct. Wickersheim messaged a photo of him to my phone. What’s more, James Wu works for SPHAERA TECHNOLOGIES, owned by none other than Professor R. Furthermore, for the past few months he has been assigned to a “Classified Research Project.”
***
TIME TO TAKE ACTION
Thursday, March 19th
At one time, Circanthians numbered almost three thousand, making up approximately one-half the sentient population of Circanthos. By contrast, the population of Avondale, one small Earth town, was at least five times that size. On Circanthos, where every Circanthian knew every other Circanthian, if only by sight, abandoning a child would be—unthinkable. So, to Bewfordios Provost, a child like Hayes, abandoned by his parents, was almost more foreign than the planet Earth itself.
Principal Provost watched Hayes, Wells and the three Tsendi leave the arena and head towards the large building in the middle of the compound.
I should have done more for the boy…
He and James Wu had been hiding in the forest, adjacent to the tsoot pit, for approximately ten minutes. Hayes, hostage the entire time, was now free—or at least, no longer under the knife. That honor had been transferred to McKenzie. Principal Provost contemplated turning the knife into something less deadly; but that would only alert Mallos who would simply crush McKenzie’s throat with one of his hands.
Now it was time to take action. Provost tapped James on the shoulder. Then, crouching as low as his sphere would allow, rolled out of the forest.
“FINALLY!” whispered McKenzie’s father, following close behind.
Provost signaled him to be quiet and stuck the final disrupter node in the ground. It was a stroke of luck he’d remembered to grab the nodes before leaving the cave. They were his first set, the prototypes; not as stable as subsequent sets, but hopefully stable enough to rescue McKenzie.
Moving several feet away,
he removed the main disrupter node from his pocket, whispered, “Be still,” and began the activation.
Of all the Tsendi to be holding a knife to McKenzie’s throat, he would have preferred anyone besides Mallos. The giant Tsendi had a malicious grin frozen on his face. Had the disruption taken even a second longer, they might have been too late.
“I’m going in,” said Provost. “Wait here.”
“I’m going with you.”
Provost sighed. “I do believe McKenzie gets ALL her bad habits from you! Let’s go. And don’t let go of my shoulder—for any reason.” Seconds later, a bubble of present time encircled them both, and in they went.
Tsendi guards, frozen in time, encircled the tsoot pit. There was only one area large enough to squeeze through and it was not by a ramp.
“We’ll have to jump,” said Provost. “Climb onto my back.”
“Excuse me?”
“Climb on and I’ll carry you over.”
“I don’t think—”
“I don’t care what you think. Circanthians have exceptionally strong upper body strength. Haven’t you noticed your daughter—”
“McKenzie!” Ashen-faced, James stared at his daughter, seconds away from having her throat slit. “Okay,” he mumbled, looping his arms and legs—all six foot, three and a half inches of him—around Principal Provost rather like a giraffe trying to climb onto the back of a buffalo. And into the pit they jumped.
“OFF,” said Principal Provost.
“What?”
“Get off—NOW!”
“Sorry,” whispered James, unlooping himself.
“No one can hear us.”
“Sorry!” said James, in a somewhat louder voice.
Provost ignored him. He was trying to figure out a way to weave in McKenzie without weaving in Mallos. But there was no way around it. “We are going to have to weave the bubble around them both,” he said. “Mallos’ hand is firmly attached to her shoulder. I’ll grab the knife. You shove him out of the bubble. Here we go!”
“DAD! Principal Provost?”
Mallos blinked and looked at them, clearly stunned. The shock caused his grip to loosen, dropping the knife, and his hand to fall slightly away from McKenzie’s throat. James Wu grabbed that hand, pulled it up and over McKenzie’s head and slammed it into the dazed Tsendi’s forehead.
“A feather,” said Principal Provost, catching the knife—or what had been the knife. “Brilliant,” he said, giving McKenzie a nod while grabbing the arm of her chair and pulling her forward. “You’re coming with us.”
James, his right hand never once leaving Principal Provost’s shoulder, gave Mallos a shove and watched him plunge into the time disrupted area.
“Careful, James, our bubble is fragile.”
McKenzie, tears streaming down her face, reached out and hugged her dad. “I can’t believe you came for me!”
“Excuse me…” Provost felt awkward having to interrupt their little reunion. Oh, Concentric help him—now James was crying too! “I’m sorry,” he said, “but we must leave immediately, I have no idea how long the disruption will last.”
“Not yet!”
“McKenzie, sweetie—”
“DAD—no! Not without Abacis and his followers. Wells is going to have them executed.”
“Listen to me,” Provost began, easily falling into the role of Principal. “These are Tsendi. Tsendi are always fighting each other. It is none of our concern.”
McKenzie began backing away.
James gripped his daughter’s hand. “Don’t let go, you’ll fall out of the bubble.”
McKenzie looked around, noticing their odd situation for the first time. “Right,” she said, rolling closer. “What is this? Never mind, I’m not leaving. Abacis and his friends saved Hayes and they would have saved me.”
B.R. Provost wondered, not for the first time, how an alien species, thousands of loonocks ago, or longer, could have predicted that a fourteen-year-old Earthling—with a major attitude—would be the one to save his people from extinction. Well, she obviously hadn’t accomplished it. Not yet, anyway. “No,” he said, pulling her forward.
McKenzie reached down and locked her wheels.
“Very well, have it your way. I might not be able to weave us into a time-disrupted area, but I can certainly weave us out.” Principal Provost closed his eyes, took three deep breaths and began to envision a place well known to him, the Vibrona coast, next to the Lapis Sea.
“Uh, Principal Provost,” said James, “I don’t think I can hold on—”
“I-am-not-GOING!” cried McKenzie.
It was no use. Provost opened his eyes. He couldn’t concentrate.
“Look,” said McKenzie. “Help me save Abacis and his friends and I promise…I’ll stay on Circanthos and think of some way to help you get rid of Wells. My great-great-great uncle Wells,” she said pointedly.
“We know,” said James and Principal Provost at the same time.
“You do?”
“I put two and two together and your father recognized the name. Wells must have been caught in my mentor, Petré Revolvos’, portal.”
“Pietas told me about him.”
“He is your great-great grandfather—the reason, most notably, why you are able to particle-weave. But enough of this, we must go—NOW—before the disruptors wear off.”
“At least let me save Abacis,” pleaded McKenzie.
Provost sighed. “All right.” Anything to hasten their departure. Besides, it probably wouldn’t hurt to have a Tsendi on their side. “Point him out.”
Once more, James pushed while Provost weaved. With James’ help, the Tsendi holding the knife to Abacis’ throat stumbled out of their bubble. Abacis blinked his eyes and looked straight at Principal Provost. Then he looked at James and then at McKenzie.
“What is going on?” he asked calmly.
“We’re rescuing you,” said McKenzie.
“And we haven’t much time,” said Principal Provost. “I have no idea how long this field will last. I also have no idea how we’re going to help your friends, but at McKenzie’s insistence, you are now free.”
Abacis nodded. Principal Provost had never seen a Tsendi display such control over his emotions.
“Where are you taking me?” Abacis asked.
“Out of the forest.”
“Not without Hayes,” said McKenzie.
“Nor will I abandon my Tsendi,” said Abacis.
Great Concentric! Provost sighed. I should have stayed on Earth, married Stephanie and settled down. Ah well… “May I at least suggest we remove ourselves from the time field.” He didn’t wait for an answer; he’d had quite enough of being told what to do.
Chapter 48
FBI TRANSCRIPT 21212
Agent Wink Krumm and Stephanie Chantos
Wednesday, June 10th
KRUMM: It says here you’re representing B.R. Provost in the sale of his house.
CHANTOS: I am.
KRUMM: And where, pray tell, is Principal Provost?
CHANTOS: I don’t know.
KRUMM: No forwarding address; no anticipated date of return?
CHANTOS: Principal Provost is donating the proceeds from the sale of his house to science.
KRUMM: To SCIENCE?
CHANTOS: Earmarked for some special nano-technology research in the medical field. Anyway, it’s all written down. A wonderful man our Principal Provost, wouldn’t you agree?
KRUMM: Give my assistant that address on the way out.
CHANTOS: Where the money is going? That’s easy. It’s all going to Sphaera Technologies. Their new medical division.
KRUMM: Sphaera…Technologies. Of course! Wonderful.
CHANTOS: You look pale, Agent Krumm.
KRUMM: Donut, Miss Chantos?
CHANTOS: What?
KRUMM: Would you like a donut? For some reason…I feel like eating donuts.
CHANTOS: Why, thank you. I’ll take mine dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with pea
nuts.
***
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN
Thursday, March 19th
“Well, well, well…what have we got here?”
McKenzie, her father, Principal Provost and Abacis had emerged from the portal only to find themselves surrounded by Tsendi guards. Outside this cozy circle stood Wells, three more guards and Hayes, once again a knife to his throat.
“My, my…” said Wells, practically smirking at Principal Provost, “First Pietas and now you. I’m going to have to have a little talk with Mallos; according to him, you’re deceased. Can’t have Circanthians popping up from the dead every time I turn around, can I? And you—” He turned to McKenzie, “YOU lied to me! My-my-my PRISM…” He looked as though he were going to cry. “My cortext is MISSING!” McKenzie half expected him to start stomping his feet. Instead, he smiled. “No matter. I know just where to find it. You…” he said, pointing to a guard, “Search the girl. Dump her out of that contraption if necessary.”
The Tsendi guard placed his spear on the ground, hesitated and then walked over to McKenzie.
“Begin with the satchel.”
Trembling, confused and clearly terrified of her, the guard leaned over as if to look under McKenzie’s wheelchair.
“On the back of her chair—imbecile!” Wells smiled at McKenzie, pleased with himself. “Thought I wouldn’t notice it missing, eh?”
Hayes’ backpack! McKenzie had forgotten about it. She should have left it with Pietas.
While the guard searched the backpack, holding up Hayes’ things as if they were treasures for the other Tsendi to behold, (Hayes’ eReader, a Snickers bar, a shoelace—ninja turtle trading cards?) Wells turned to McKenzie’s dad and said, “Just as I feared, another human. Either you arrived in a Gate or you too have a cortext.”
“I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s great-great-great uncle,” said James.
Meanwhile, McKenzie had closed her eyes, taken three deep breaths and turned the knife against Hayes’ throat into a banana.