Broken Realms (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 1)

by Moneypenny, D. W.

  Once the door closed behind them, Ping turned on the flashlight. He walked straight for the clipboard hanging on a nail directly inside the door. Shining the light on the clipboard, he said, “I forgot my glasses. Come here and look at this list for me.”

  He handed it to Mara.

  “What am I looking for?”

  “My name.”

  “Okay, Ping comma Aristotle. Found it. Aristotle? That’s your first name? What were your parents thinking?”

  “Long story. I will tell you sometime. What’s the number beside my name?”

  “Thirty-three.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Ping pointed the light to the left and pulled Mara in that direction.

  “It’s freezing in here,” Mara said, blowing clouds of vapor. “What is this place, a meat locker?”

  As they walked past table after table, Ping occasionally stopped to lift a sheet, revealing each had a numbered label, which he examined with the light. The first table was fifteen. The next, nineteen. On the third one, number twenty-two, he lifted the sheet a little too high and it failed to fall back over the edge of the table. He leaned into the darkness to straighten it out and the flashlight illuminated a human foot.

  Mara gasped.

  “These are people. Dead people.”

  “Stay with me, Mara. This is important.”

  Ping covered the foot and kept going, reading numbered labels as he went. After a few minutes, he stopped at a table and pointed the light at the label. Number thirty-three. He looked at Mara in the ambient light.

  “I need you to stand over there,” he said, pointing to the head of the table.

  “What for?”

  “We’re going to look at this person’s face to see who it is.”

  “No, no way.”

  “Mara, I need you to do this. We’re running out of time.”

  “I’m freezing. Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to do this.”

  “We’ll go once we do this.”

  Mara moved to the head of the table. Ping walked up on the other side.

  “Lift the sheet,” Ping said.

  “You lift the sheet,” Mara said, defiant.

  “I think it might be a problem if I do it.”

  She stood staring at him, with a pleading look. He pointed his jaw at the body below them and nodded.

  Vapor stopped clouding around her head. She held her breath and leaned forward over the body, tried to pinch the sheet on the corner opposite from where she stood but her glove was too slick. She pulled back her hand, removed the glove, reached out to the corner again, pinched and lifted the sheet with her bare fingers. She drew it back.

  Ping stared up vacantly from the table.

  *

  “A twin brother! That’s ridiculous,” Ping said, standing at the end of his counterpart’s table, spewing steam from his mouth.

  “It’s a more logical explanation than people from an alternate reality.”

  “Mara, these are the passengers from our flight. They died at the same time that, somehow, the Chronicle pulled their counterparts into this realm.”

  “Okay, show me mine.”

  “Your what?”

  “Show me the dead Mara.”

  “There isn’t one. If the other Mara was killed, she was sent back when you touched her. That’s why I can’t touch him.” He pointed at the man on the table they had just uncovered. “I would be thrown back into my own reality. Touching one hair, even one cell, and, poof, I’m gone.”

  “I’m still not convinced.”

  Ping looked at the clipboard he held, glanced up and said, “Did you know anyone else on the flight?”

  “No. Well, I met this woman and her grandson. They sat next to me.”

  He handed the clipboard to her. “Find her. What was her name?”

  “Sarah something, I think.” Mara ran her finger down the list while Ping held the light. “Gamble, that’s it. Number eighty-three, and her grandson, Jeremy, eighty-four.”

  “They are probably on the far side. Come on.”

  They walked past dozens of tables, occasionally stopping to check number labels. The fourth time they stopped, Ping pointed to the head of the table.

  “Go ahead. Hurry, we are running out of time. It just occurred to me there’s one more I want to check before we go.”

  Mara hesitated, walked up to the head of the table. Ping again stood on the opposite side, holding the light. She pulled off her glove and lifted the sheet. The trim grandma from the flight lay on the table. Mara dropped the sheet and looked over her shoulder at the next table. A child lay under the sheet, his body more than a foot shorter than the table. She nodded to Ping.

  “So the world thinks these people survived the crash, but they are all here. Except for me. No wonder the cops think I had something to do with it,” she said, putting her glove back on. “Can we go now?”

  “Let’s confirm Bert Reilly, the slug man,” Ping said, handing her the clipboard. “Then we have to go.”

  CHAPTER 28

  THE MORNING LIGHT spread dull shadows as Mara approached Ping’s car in front of the bakery. Sam and Ping were getting out. Ping noticed her as she approached, a brief smile spreading across his plump face. Sam avoided looking at Mara.

  “I have questions,” she said. “Lots of them.”

  She carried the DVD case with her.

  “Oh, by the way, your guys did a great job cleaning up the bug juice. Thanks.”

  “Come on in. We’ll put on some coffee,” Ping said while unlocking the front door of the bakery. “We’ll have the place to ourselves today. I think we’ve got one more day before construction can proceed.”

  Mara sat down at a little break table in the now-completed kitchen while Ping put on coffee. She sat the DVD case on the floor next to her chair. Sam placed a plate of doughnuts on the table and grabbed a chair.

  “Have one,” he said.

  “No thanks. I don’t really care for fried doughnuts. Occasionally I’ll eat the baked kind.” She smiled at him. “Tell me how you got that guard to let us into the hangar last night,” she said.

  Sam looked at Ping, who nodded.

  “I can put thoughts or ideas into people’s minds. It only lasts for a few minutes. It’s not permanent. I can’t change the way they think. Eventually they just dismiss it as a random thought or a bad idea,” he said.

  Mara laughed. “Right. Everyone from where you come from, from your realm, can do this?”

  “No. I’m a prompter.”

  Ping sat down. “Sam’s gift is a unique metaphysical ability. It isn’t an evolutionary or hereditary trait of people from his realm.”

  “And you believe he can do this?” Mara picked up a doughnut and bit into it.

  “You saw the guard let us in last night. That was his doing,” Ping said. He frowned at her. “I thought you didn’t like fried doughnuts.”

  “I don’t.” She spit out the rest into a napkin, grimacing and wiping her tongue. “I don’t understand why I picked up that doughnut. I really can’t stand them.”

  Sam smiled, blushing.

  “You didn’t do that, did you?” she said. She glared at him sideways, turned her attention back to Ping. “The slug man who showed up at the shop, was that some kind of metaphysical ability as well?”

  “No. That was most likely a characteristic of people from his realm. I suspect they evolved to have some kind of symbiotic relationship with those insectlike creatures. It would not surprise me if the slugs actually gestated in his digestive track or another part of his body.”

  “That is so cool,” Sam said wide-eyed, grabbing a doughnut and stuffing it into his mouth in one bite.

  Mara rolled her eyes. “So all of his people have these slugs.”

  “I would think.”

  “What about you? You’re from a different reality. What’s your deal?” She raised an eyebrow at Ping. “Let me guess. You can make yourself invisible and reappear at will.”

 
“No. Nothing as impressive as that, I’m afraid. In the shop yesterday, you saw my body reassemble after it had dispersed.”

  “Your body dispersed.” She looked doubtful. “And then reassembled.”

  “You saw me reassemble with your own eyes.”

  “I wasn’t exactly in a stable frame of mind at the time. I had been completely slimed by an old man from God-knows-where. So why do you disperse?”

  “It’s an instinctive response when we are startled or threatened.”

  “The slugs jumped at you.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I suppose I would have dispersed if I could have. So everyone from your realm does this?”

  “All animals do in my realm.”

  “Must be hard to throw a good surprise party.” She eyed Sam. “What about you? If your mind tricks aren’t part of your evolution, what strange mutation have you brought into the world?”

  “We don’t fart.” He stayed straight-faced for a second, then cracked up.

  She looked at Ping.

  He shook his head. “That’s definitely not true. The boy is noxious.”

  Mara smiled, looked away from them in an effort to maintain her composure. When she was sure she would not laugh, she turned back to Sam. “Seriously, no slugs, dispersing, nothing?”

  “As far as I can tell, I’m just like everyone else around here,” he said.

  “So all of the passengers who survived the plane crash were replaced by someone from another realm?” She looked to Ping.

  “That would be the logical conclusion.”

  “Do you think a lot of them have these unique hereditary traits?”

  “I would imagine virtually all of them have something unique to them. They are from completely different worlds. If nothing else, they have unique memories and experiences. Many of them could be radically different, even dangerous, like the slug man. Some could be worse.”

  “That’s over a hundred people running all over the place doing God-knows-what.”

  “That’s just the beginning of the problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ping nodded at Sam.

  “More people might be able to cross over if we can’t find the Chronicle and make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands,” he said. “Remember, that’s how all those people got here in the first place.”

  “You mean all of you people,” Mara corrected. “You guys aren’t from around here either.”

  “If we can find and secure the Chronicle, we might be able to prevent more people from crossing over,” Ping said. “As far as those already here, we may need to deal with them if they turn out to be dangerous.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we may need to deal with them’?” Mara asked. “What are we going to do, call the alternate-reality border patrol? I’m not interested in getting involved with these people.”

  “You may not be interested in them, but it appears they are interested in you for some reason. Why do you think Mr. Reilly and his friends showed up in your shop? And do not forget, the police want to know why yours is the only body not recovered from the accident. They may not be able to prove anything, but they suspect you of something.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do about the cops, but I think I know why Reilly showed up at the shop.” Mara reached down and placed the DVD carrier on the table. “He came looking for this.”

  “What is it?” said Ping.

  “Open it up and see.”

  Sam unzipped the case, looked inside and his jaw dropped.

  Ping sat up straighter in response, peeked into the case. “What is it?”

  “It’s the Chronicle.” Sam said it with awe. “Where did you find it?”

  “I had it all along. I thought the Chronicle was a ball of blue light. I had no idea it was a copper medallion that turns into a ball of light.”

  “So you’ve activated it?” Sam asked, excited.

  “Well, no, not really.”

  “Then how did you know it was the Chronicle? You had to activate it to know what it was. That’s the only way you could have known this medallion can become a ball of light.”

  “Okay, Mr. Prosecutor, I fixed it up, and it began to flip and glow, and it made this huge bubble in the shop, and it displayed a bunch of lines. But I didn’t do anything with it. Nothing got blown up. The skies are safe for air travel.”

  Sam looked at Ping. “If she activated it, you know what that means.”

  Ping nodded, shifting his eyes to Mara. “She’s a progenitor.”

  “A what?”

  “Later,” Ping said. “How do you know Reilly came for the Chronicle?”

  “He said, if I gave it to him, he would leave me alone. He said he wanted to go home.”

  “How did he know you have it?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t even know I had it until I fixed it on Monday and it started glowing. And, believe me, I didn’t tell anyone about that.”

  “Well, someone knows you have it, and I suspect you are going to have more strange people knocking at your door, hoping to find a way home.”

  “You’re wrong about one thing,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t have it anymore. It’s yours. I don’t want it.” She grabbed a doughnut and bit into it. Pulling it away from her lips, she scowled at Sam. “Did you do that?”

  “No way, sis. Last time I tangled with a progenitor, we took down an airliner.”

  She pointed the doughnut at him. “I am not your sis.”

  CHAPTER 29

  MARA PUSHED THE DVD case toward Ping. He responded by looking at his watch, catching Sam’s eye and then tapping it with his finger.

  “Oh, come on. Can’t I stay and help out here?” Sam asked.

  “That’s not the deal we made. Mrs. Zimmerman is waiting,” Ping said.

  Sam got up and stomped out of the kitchen, heading for the front door of the bakery.

  “Don’t slam the door,” Ping called after him.

  The front door banged closed. Ping smiled at Mara.

  “Where’s he off to in a huff?” Mara asked.

  “School. I hired a tutor for him. Can you believe he has never been to school before?” Ping shook his head. “I may not be a professor in this realm, but I’m not going to sit back and house an illiterate boy, no matter how much he hates the idea.”

  “Never? Where are his parents?”

  “It’s a long story. I think I should let him tell his own story. You should sit down with him sometime and get to know him better.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to make him think, you know.”

  “What? That you could ever consider him your brother?”

  “He’s not my brother. It’s not a matter of what he or I consider. It just isn’t so. It’s just a fact. We are not siblings. Let’s not have this debate again.”

  “Okay then. Let’s have a different debate,” Ping said, pushing the DVD carrier back toward Mara. “You need to keep this. It is your responsibility.”

  “How did it become my responsibility? I don’t own it.”

  “There is a reason you ended up with the Chronicle. You have a role in what is happening, and you can’t simply walk away. You will make things worse if you do. It is something you will have to face.”

  “To be honest with you, that thing scares me, and having it scares me. If people, or things like the slug man, are going to show up demanding it, I want nothing to do with it.” She wrapped her arms around herself, fixing Ping with a defiant look. “I am not taking it. Besides I don’t have a safe place to keep it.”

  Ping stood up, opened the carrier and removed the copper medallion. “I’ll keep it in my safe for the time being. I’ll give you the combination in case you need to get to it.”

  “Why would I need to get to it?”

  Ping did not answer. He walked to his office and returned a moment later with a piece of paper with five numbers written on it. As he handed it to Mara, a loud knock came from
the front of the bakery.

  Ping jumped from his seat and disappeared into the front of the bakery. Mara heard a muffled exchange before Ping leaned back into the kitchen.

  “Mara, Special Agent Suter and Detective Bohannon are out here. They want to talk to you.”

  *

  Suter snapped his head to face Mara as she stepped through the swinging doors from the kitchen to stand behind the counter. No lights had been turned on in the public area of the bakery, and the overcast day provided only muted light. A trick of light and a prominent brow made the FBI agent’s eye sockets looked blacked out. Bohannon stood beside him, rolling his broad shoulders and nodding when Mara approached.

  “I’ll let you talk,” Ping said. “I’ve got some work to do in the back.”

  “We would prefer if you stayed, Mr. Ping. This involves you as well,” Suter said, his tone indicating it was not a request.

  “Very well.” He raised an eyebrow at Mara.

  “Where is the boy, Sam?” Suter asked.

  “He’s at school. Why do you want to know?” Ping asked.

  “Why are you answering? Isn’t she the sister?” Suter asked.

  “He’s at school. Why do you want to know?” Mara repeated.

  “Why aren’t you in school, Ms. Lantern?”

  “I wasn’t aware the FBI enforced high school truancy.” She paused for a beat, decided being flippant might not be a good idea and said, “I graduated early thanks to a few community college courses.”

  “We did some looking around, and, come to find out, you don’t have a brother, at least not a live one. There’s a death certificate on file for a Sam Lantern, who apparently died three days after he was born almost fourteen years ago, to your mother, Diana.”

  Ping raised an eyebrow in Mara’s direction. She avoided his eyes.

  “Who was that boy in your shop the other day?”

  “He is my responsibility,” Ping said.

  “Okay, I’ll ask you. Who is he?” Suter asked.

  “He’s my nephew, actually the son of a very close friend, not technically a relative. He’s staying with me for a while.”

  “What’s his name, and why is he telling people that he’s her dead brother?”

  “Sam Bolton. He can be somewhat inappropriate sometimes, especially with authority figures such as yourselves.” Ping nodded toward them. “He meant no harm, I am sure.”