by Lorijo Metz
McKenzie took a deep breath. Time to reveal her plan.
Chapter 50
Excerpt from the personal log of Agent Wink Krumm
Friday, March 20th
Just outside Avondale
Nothing today. A few local yokels showed up. Morons in uniforms. I quickly informed them they should stick to their own territory, as the FBI had this road covered.
No reinforcements from headquarters yet, though I’ve been informed they want me back in the office tomorrow afternoon if nothing “significant” happens.
SIGNIFICANT? Really????
No doubt about it. I should never have trusted Wickersheim. As soon as I leave, he’ll be out here taking credit for my find. Only, I’m NOT Leaving—Not until I see the whites of their alien eyes!
***
DISAPPEARING TRICKS
Thursday, March 19th
“How many guards?”
Mallos began counting on his fingers. “One, two…uh? One each corner, one each side and seven in the forest.”
“FIFTEEN! You call that security. Post fifteen more and another twenty-five around my quarters. Abacis will be back, mark my word. He’s planning something big or he would have returned sooner. Perhaps we should post a few inside?”
Mallos leaned closer. “Let me,” he said, practically drooling.
“Right. Never mind.” Wells lit his torch and prepared to enter the warehouse. Before he went in; however, he turned and thrust the torch under Mallos’ nose.
Mallos jumped back and let out a yelp.
“Tell me again, Mallos, how did forty-three Tsendi escape?”
Mallos rubbed his nose, looking somewhat dumbfounded, but preferably more humble. His Tsendi face contorted into several different, most unpleasing expressions as he tried to come up with another way to explain what he’d already explained several times in a way that would, somehow, please his Advitor.
Wells allowed himself a slight smile. “I’ll expect a thorough accounting when I come out. Remember, forty-three Tsendi are out there waiting to make their move. Allow Abacis to outsmart you again, and it will be a long, long time before you see your beloved cobaca froot!”
Pleased with Mallos’ reaction, Wells turned and marched into the warehouse.
In order for it to dry properly, cobaca froot was stored, hanging in large batches from the rafters. Wells shut and locked the door behind him. “What was I thinking,” he muttered to himself, “thinking I could trust Tsendi, guards or not, alone in a room full of cobaca froot.” Turning, he looked up, ready to begin his inspection.
The first thing he noticed was that the warehouse was empty. What? He stood there, much like Mallos only minutes before, dumbfounded, staring at the ceiling, examining the floor, the rafters, everywhere, praying his eyes were playing tricks on him. That’s when it hit him; as things so often do after the fact, the smell was gone. Or, at least, less overpowering. He should have noticed sooner. His routine had been the same for years: open the door to the warehouse; step back, as the first overwhelmingly sweet, pungent odor of cobaca froot assaulted his senses; catch his breath; breathe in some fresh air; and, holding his nose, march in again.
This time he’d walked straight in. No—Mallos had distracted him!
Wells’ heart began beating at an unusually fast pace, reminding him that though he may look younger than his years, he was still a very, very old man. He heaved a sigh of frustration. With the cobaca froot gone, what power would he hold over the Tsendi? How long until the next loon?
“Blast it, Abacis! BLAST the Circanthians! I’m ruined!h”
“What about me?” Like a vision out of one of his own futuristic novels, McKenzie Wu, her wheelchair gleaming with 21st century technology, rolled out from a darkened corner of the warehouse.
“Quite right,” said Principal Provost, rolling out of another corner. “If you want to blast someone, I believe most of the credit belongs to your great-great-great niece. After all, it was her idea.”
Wells stood there berating himself for not having any windows built into the warehouse. Instinctively he turned to make his escape, only to be stopped short as two long, sharp prongs reached out to greet him.
“Going somewhere?” said Abacis from the other end of the spear.
“Abacis!? How-How-GOOD to see you. Look—someone has stolen all the cobaca froot.”
Abacis merely cocked his eyebrow and moved the spear closer.
“Don’t suppose I’ll be leaving, will I,” said Wells, backing away from the prongs.
“Oh, you’ll be leaving, Uncle.”
“Only it won’t be by that door,” said Principal Provost.
Wells looked at Abacis, poring as much pain and disappointment into the look as he could possibly muster. Then, sighing loudly, he turned around and hung his head as if giving up.
He was only buying time.
If I scream, maybe one of those idiot guards will break down the door and save me. Wells had known Abacis from birth. Would Abacis really risk killing his Advitor? Tsendi did not live as long as Circanthians…or humans, it seemed. I’m practically like a father to him.
“If you’re going to MURDER me, do it quickly. Surely, even you wouldn’t want your Advitor to suffer.”
Something sharp bumped up against his back.
Wells fell to the ground. “PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU—DON’T HURT ME. PLEASE don’t hurt me. I’ll give you anything, Abacis, anything. You can be my number one Tsendi again—ANYTHING!”
“Quiet!” said Abacis.
Someone was pounding on the door.
They’re coming for me! Damn! If only I hadn’t locked the door.
Abacis grabbed Wells roughly by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet. He turned him around and shoved him forward.
Something strange was happening at the other end of the warehouse. What is that? A hole? A hole in the sky! “Abacis, look, Circanthian trickery!”
“MOVE,” shouted Abacis.
More pounding on the door.
“Drag him if you have to,” shouted Principal Provost. “They’re going to break it down!”
Abacis grabbed Wells just above the elbow, pulled his arm back—
“YOU’RE H-H-H-HURTING ME!”
And thrust him forward….
“ALL THE COBACA FROOT, ABACIS! IT’S ALL YOURS! PLEASE—”
…and into the hole.
The pain in Wells’ arm disappeared even as the sensation of his body fragmenting, like so many grains of sand, and flowing into the portal descended upon him. He turned his head, or what was left of it, and looked back.
The warehouse door stood open, and there stood Mallos, scratching his belly and gazing up at the empty rafters.
He’s not even looking for me. He’s wondering where all his beloved cobaca froot went. That BLASTED Tsendi doesn’t even care!
Then an even stranger thought entered his head. That’s right old human, he doesn’t care! Only it wasn’t his thought, it belonged to Abacis.
Heaven help me—the Tsendi’s in my head!
Chapter 51
BEGINNINGS
Friday, March 20th
“Looks similar to the one I built.”
“Dad, what are you talking about?” McKenzie laughed, a little embarrassed for him. “This is a cortext. It’s for Circanthians. It helps them—helps us particle-weave over large distances of time and space.” They were back in the cave standing near her great-great grandfather’s old laboratory bench. “Trust me, you’ve never built one.”
“Trust her,” snapped Principal Provost, “she’s right!”
“Bewfordios, come now,” said Revolvos. “We arrived, that’s all that counts. Besides,” he said, mostly under his breath, “I’m not thoroughly convinced it wasn’t the fault of the operator, as opposed to the machine.”
McKenzie looked from her great-great grandfather to her dad. James Wu wasn’t even aware of his daughter’s confusion; he was already busy examining the bottom of the cortext. McKenzie sm
iled. She may have been part Circanthian, but her dad was definitely from a different planet.
The cave had returned to its natural state, which was really quite beautiful with all its stalagmites and stalactites lit up like a fairy castle. Abacis, his followers and most of the Circanthians had left. McKenzie, Hayes, her father, Principal Provost, Pietas, Revolvos and Wells—oh, and Charlie the poonchi—were all that remained. Hayes had been playing with Charlie almost non-stop.
McKenzie smiled. They’ve bonded! If traveling halfway across the galaxy had taught her anything, it was that Rudy Hayes wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be. That, combined with his deep chocolate eyes and his lopsided grin…Snaps! I’ve gotta stop this. In a short time, Hayes would be on his way to Earth, while she would be—
“I’m glad we saved all those little Tsendi kids,” Hayes said, without looking up.
McKenzie had to turn away. It was too much.
“What’s wrong, my little Mickey-D?”
“Dad!” McKenzie threw up her hands. “Don’t call me that.” She could hear Hayes laughing at her.
After they’d transported all the cobaca froot out of the warehouse through the portal, captured Wells, then tossed all the cobaca froot into the Lapis Sea, Abacis had requested they use their particle-weaving to go in and rescue the Tsendi children, or young ones, as he called them. He worried they would not be taken care of. Without cobaca froot, Mallos and the others would soon be ill; and what’s more, very, very angry. In addition, many of the Tsendi who’d voluntarily supported Abacis would soon begin feeling the effects of eliminating cobaca froot from their diet. The illness lasted a long time and there was no telling what many of the Tsendi would do in their madness. The few Tsendi, like him, who had already gone through it, had done so while locked up in prison during the worst of it.
McKenzie glanced at Hayes. Earlier, she’d seen him deep in conversation with Abacis and thought she’d overheard him say something about sending information back with Principal Provost. Information, she assumed, that had something to do with addiction.
That was when she first realized Principal Provost was going back, which made her decision easier. They wouldn’t need her to particle-weave the portal.
Revolvos, Abacis, the Tsendi and their children, would remain at the Last Gathering. As would she. The Circanthians would do what they could to ease the Tsendi through their illness and, in return, Abacis and his Tsendi agreed to help protect the Circanthians from Mallos.
“We should leave as soon as possible,” Principal Provost said. “Tomorrow is Saturday back on Earth and I have lots of work to catch up on before school on Monday.
Saturday, thought McKenzie. I can still make the championship! Then she remembered, she wasn’t going back. In the next instant she thought—only she thought it out loud, “Principal Provost, are you going to stay on Earth forever?”
“Of course not.” He sounded hurt. “Just until the end of the school year. I can’t very well leave Avondale without a Principal.”
“I don’t know,” said Hayes, “sounds like a good idea to me.”
“I, for one, demand to be returned to my own time!” Wells had been brooding by the pedestal ever since they’d arrived in the cave. He was furious they wouldn’t allow him to go back for his cocombaca wood chest filled with treasures. “There’s absolutely nothing for me in your time,” he said. “If Circanthians can manipulate time and space, I’d don’t see why you can’t return me to 1896.”
McKenzie’s heart leapt. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She could go back in time and save her mother! It would fix everything.
“We do NOT manipulate time like that,” said Revolvos, as if shocked by the very idea. “We travel from one point to the other, but always within the continuum of present time. It’s possible, I dare say, but not ethical. Ripples would occur that could easily change, well—everything!”
McKenzie looked at her father. His face…it was so clear, he’d been thinking the same thing. For a moment, he’d believed he could have his wife back. Now he was probably crushed.
Or maybe not. “What about the time disrupters?” he asked.
“Ahhh,” said Principal Provost as if he’d been expecting that very question. “Time disruption is also dangerous. However, it only stops time in one very defined area. It doesn’t change anything, it simply pauses it.”
There was loud coughing and a pointedly clearing of the throat. “Excuse me,” said McKenzie’s great-great grandfather. “I’m going to have to disagree with my assistant.”
“Assistant! I haven’t been your assistant since—”
“Bewfordios and I have had this discussion several times. Technically, pausing time does change things, which is why I’ve never been a fan of his time disruption nodes. However, there are cases—”
“We will never agree on this, Petré.” Provost fixed his old mentor with a firm look. That was that. “Everyone, say your goodbyes and we’ll be off.”
McKenzie’s heart began beating faster. She’d been dreading this moment. “Dad—I have to talk to you.”
“Well, sure Mickey-D…I mean, McKenzie. But make it quick, I don’t think you want to keep your Principal waiting.” He smiled uneasily, sensing, it seemed, that something was up.
McKenzie looked at Pietas.
Pietas nodded. She understood. “Bewfordios, Revolvos, Hayes, I think it’s best we say our goodbyes over here.” She motioned them to follow her to the other side of the cave. “Mr. Wells, you come along too.”
Wells crossed his arms and leaned against the pedestal. “I have no goodbyes to say.”
Pietas arched her eyebrow. “Then you’d rather we turn you over to Abacis.”
With a loud, “Harrumph,” Wells unfolded his arms and followed them, muttering all the way to the other side of the cave.
McKenzie looked at her dad. The macho warrior side of him had disappeared and suddenly he was just her dad again. The same dad who’d hid in his lab to avoid coming home to a house without his wife in it.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m…” McKenzie took a deep breath. “I’m not going back.”
“Of course, you’re going back. You may be part Circanthian but you’re ALL my daughter. You’ve done enough for these people. You’ve given them the ability, or at least the chance, to save themselves.”
“You don’t understand.”
“But I do! You think because you’re different, you won’t fit in. But hey, everybody is different.” He smiled. “You’re just more unique than most. You’re my McKenzie and…” He started to get all choked up. “I need you!”
Her dad was crying. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. This wasn’t going at all the way it should. Despite wanting to stay in her dad’s arms—to be HIS McKenzie forever—she pushed him away.
“You’ve got to listen to me.”
Her father dried his eyes and, looking just the slightest bit embarrassed, nodded. “Of course, dear, I’m sorry.”
“DON’T be sorry! I mean—don’t be nice to me.”
He frowned, a fatherly, almost unbearable look of concern on his face. “Why would you say that?”
McKenzie covered her face. Now that the moment was here, she had no idea how to say what needed to be said. It was all too complicated. She tried to think of the right words, but nothing came to her. Her mind was a big fat blank. Finally, because there was no other way, she ran her fingers through her hair, said a quick prayer and dove in. “I need to tell you something about the car accident.”
“Now?”
McKenzie looked at her dad imploringly. “Please. Don’t stop me.”
He nodded.
“You told me the brakes failed. Mom drove off the road and into that tree because the brakes were bad. Is that true? Is that really the way it happened?”
James Wu looked at his daughter and, for a moment, she was sure he was going to say yes. And it would have been so wonderful. But, somehow, he knew…he knew she ne
eded to hear the truth. “I didn’t want you to think—”
“That it was Mom’s fault?”
He nodded. He looked so sad.
“It wasn’t her fault. It was mine.” McKenzie waited for her dad to react. He looked confused.
“No,” he said. “Why would you say that?”
“I’m different. Unique, I think is how you put it. And I guess I’ve been different for a lot longer than anyone realized.”
Her dad kept staring at her, saying nothing. How she wished he would stop her—stop her right then and there and tell her not to finish. But he didn’t. “I can particle-weave. I guess I always could particle-weave, only I didn’t know it. That day in the car I…” McKenzie looked away. It would be too terrible to see—the moment her dad stopped loving her. The worst part was that she couldn’t cry. Of all the times not to be able to cry.
“You don’t have to say this McKenzie.”
That did it, now she was crying. Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to say that? “I killed her! It was my fault. It was so hot and the window was broken and all I could think about was opening it. That’s when it happened. I made a hole! I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know I was doing it. It just got out of control and mom couldn’t drive, ‘cuz—her arm was part of the hole. That stupid, stupid hole!”
Suddenly her dad’s arms were around her and he was crying. He was crying too. He didn’t seem angry. He seemed sad, and his arms were around her.
“I’m so sorry, Mickey-D. It was my fault. I’m a scientist. I should have known. Your mom and I should have known. All the signs were there, we just refused to see them.” He wiped away his tears and stood up.
“What are you saying?”
“When you were born the strangest thing happened. You turned all kinds of colors. Crazy colors. The doctors thought maybe you had some sort of genetic problem regulating your temperature and then, well, finally it stopped. But it wasn’t normal. Nooooo, it was far from normal. And there were other things. Crazy things that, oh God, we must have been crazy to overlook. Toys that suddenly looked different. “Grandma Mir must have given her that toy,” we’d say or, “Maybe we didn’t notice it before.” We were scientists, but we were so blind. It’s tough to be different in this world—our world, I mean. I guess we just wanted you to be normal.”