“Nice to meet you, Dr. Wolternel,” said Daniel.
“Ah, call me Bruce if you don’t mind,” he said with a wide smile. “Doctor makes me feel like a pompous ass. I’d hate to be confused with the rest of my colleagues who deserve the title.”
Daniel laughed, relaxing a bit in spite of himself.
“So, I hear you have something of a mystery on your hands.”
“That’s a fact,” said Saul. “The boss sent us down here to see what you make of it. Dan claims to have crossed to a place I’ve never heard of. I checked out the spot where he returned, and I swear I can’t feel the other end of the trail. It just kinda fades out. Bear in mind that he did this without an Arc or any training whatsoever, either. We checked with the Sanctums, too. They never saw him. So, I want you to give Dan’s story a listen, and tell us what you think.”
With all eyes on him, Daniel recounted his story for a second time in front of an obviously skeptical audience. It was uncomfortable, like being caught out telling a lie, and an obvious one at that. He resolutely stared at the lavish, hand-knotted carpet while he spoke.
The men listened quietly until he was done. Afterwards, Bruce rose from his chair and began rummaging around in his desk for something. It was a fairly involved operation, but eventually he returned with half a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses.
“It’s a bit early in the day perhaps, but I think I’m going to have a drink nonetheless. Anyone else care for one?”
“Ah Doc, you’re a man after my own heart,” said Saul, reaching out for a glass. Daniel accepted his with less enthusiasm. Saul took a sip and winked at Daniel. “You may as well call him Doc, most of the time he is a pompous ass. Good taste in whiskey, though.”
Bruce and Saul grinned at each other over their glasses. Daniel knew that they were just trying to put him at ease, but knowing that didn’t stop it from working. The gesture warmed him.
“Don’t mind him, he just doesn’t know how to act around his betters,” said Bruce, who set down his now empty glass and strode over to the large diagram at the rear of his office. “Come here, Daniel. I want to show you something.”
Daniel obliged, picking his way across the chairs and stacks of books littering the floor.
“This,” he said, pointing at the huge chart with one thick finger, “is a map of the known worlds.”
As he spoke, he brought his hand up and placed his finger against his lips. Then he rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling before giving Daniel a significant stare. Without interrupting his monologue, he turned his hand palm up to display a small piece of metal in the shape of a letter C.
“In the center of the map here, you can see Olympus, seat of the Guild.” He took the piece of metal and placed it on the Arc on his left wrist where it stuck. He kept talking, but gestured to the Arc with his eyes. “And here you see Earth, which is fairly close to us.”
Daniel looked at the bracelet around Bruce’s wrist with the C of metal attached to the side like the handle of a teacup. Together they took on a completely different character. He felt ill. It wasn’t a bracelet, or jewelry, or an all-access pass to the halls of the Guild. It was a shackle.
Judging from Daniel’s pale face that he had gotten the message, Bruce removed the little magnet and slipped it into his pocket. He continued speaking, but Daniel couldn’t hear anything but the roaring in his ears. Saul hadn’t recruited him this morning, he had captured him. Even worse, Daniel had put the damn thing on his own wrist. He had captured himself.
“So, what do you think?” asked Bruce, putting an arm around Daniel’s shoulders and turning him around. Daniel tried to look coolly interested instead of gut-shot.
“Uh, that’s pretty cool. I had no idea there were so many other worlds out there. I hope to, uh, visit them someday.”
They all sat down around the table again.
“So, Daniel, you can see from the map that the only worlds close enough for you to cross to without the aid of an Arc are Olympus, Buellere, and Temorae. And none of those sounds like this place you think you visited. Not only that, but Saul would have sniffed those places out the minute he checked out your apartment. So, I’m afraid that as exciting as a new world would have been, this is probably just a case of Walking exhaustion and the delirium that can come with it.”
Saul stood up, agitated. “I’m not buying that for a second. I was there, that trail definitely went somewhere!”
“Did you sense the end of it?”
“No, but …”
“Have you ever seen or heard of a byway with no end?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“I would imagine that if you nearly cross, and I mean get very, very close, but run out of strength before you step through the other side, it’s possible that it might look like that. And we both know what can happen to people who push too hard to cross. They can die, fall into a coma, experience delusions, or any of a hundred other things. You’ve seen it yourself many times. I think he was imagining a park in the fall, overtaxed himself trying to cross the Veil without knowing what he was doing, and then passed out, giving himself some nice dreams in the process.”
Saul crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s a new world, Bruce. I know a crossing trace when I feel one, alright? It’s my job for fuck’s sake.”
“Fine, perhaps this was more than just a case of a failed crossing. But I’ll tell you, if it was an actual crossing, it was like no crossing we’ve ever seen before. I know very well how determined your boss will be to reach a new world, should it exist, but I would urge him not to rush things. Even a normal crossing can kill an inexperienced Walker, and if Daniel is lost or dies, then no one will ever get to this place again. Tell Mr. Keldon to at least train him first. There is no point in letting haste ruin what may turn out to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Although in my report I’m still going to submit the strong possibility that this is a case of an overtaxed mind, strained from a failed crossing.”
“Put in whatever you think you need to, Bruce. I know what I know.”
Bruce walked back to his desk, taking the empty glasses and the whisky with him. Clearly agitated, he rustled papers and slammed drawers as he put everything away. Saul and Daniel waited by the door until he was done.
“It was nice meeting you, Daniel. We don’t seem to have reached any conclusions, but at least you got a free drink out it, eh? I want you to feel free to drop by whenever you have the time and we’ll continue to work on this mystery together.”
As they shook hands, Daniel felt a hard square press into his palm. He nearly dropped it while trying to nonchalantly put his hand into his pocket after the handshake.
Daniel and Saul left the building in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
It took the remainder of the day to meet dozens of blurred-together and nameless administrators, sign stacks of contracts, and submit to a physical exam with the obligatory collection of bodily fluids and unpleasant groping. At some point he had also been assigned quarters in Walker Hall where the full-time Guild Walkers lived.
He ended the ordeal with a leather satchel bulging with orientation materials, campus maps, multi-world atlases, and his copies of the indecipherable legal documents he had signed. Even crammed with books, it seemed less weighty than the small square of paper in his pocket.
When there was nothing more the bureaucracy of the Guild could inflict on him, Saul led him to his new digs. Daniel gave the front door a shove with his Arc hand and it swept open immediately, allowing the two men to enter.
The apartment was small, but furnished as though an elderly British millionaire lived there. Overstuffed leather furniture sprouted from the hand-knotted rugs that graced the mirror-perfect hardwood floors. A huge impressionist oil painting loomed over an arched fireplace, and tall square windows afforded a view of the immaculate campus grounds.
Daniel threw his satchel on the floor and then dropped himself onto the sofa in the living room with a groan. It was pro
foundly uncomfortable, as if designed to be inhospitable to anyone lacking the proper posture.
Saul gave him a sympathetic look that was entirely unconvincing. “Overload, huh? Don’t sweat it. In a couple of days all of this will be old hat. Just try and get some rest, and I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning for round two.”
“I can’t wait.”
Saul let himself out. The door closed behind him with a loud click, reminding Daniel of the pantomime with the Arc in Dr. Wolternel’s office. He bolted across the room and yanked on the door handle, convinced that he was now locked in. To his surprise the door opened easily, nearly causing Daniel to lose his balance. Saul turned around in the hallway.
“Yes?”
“I just … wanted to say thanks for everything. Thanks.”
“Just doin’ my job, but you’re welcome. See you in the morning.”
Daniel closed the door and slumped against it, embarrassed.
At least he was alone now, so he could finally see what Bruce had given him earlier.
He fished the square out of his pocket and found that it was a folded up scrap of paper, the bottom corner of a larger sheet. The hastily scrawled message contained three lines:
DON’T EXPOSE A NEW WORLD TO THEM.
ALL ROOMS ARE BUGGED.
I CAN HELP YOU ESCAPE.
He immediately flushed the message down the toilet, and then began searching the apartment, trying to appear casual while checking for hidden cameras and microphones. After a few minutes he gave up, admitting to himself that he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was looking for.
Besides, it didn’t really change anything. He’d put up with that and more to get the money they promised him for his mom’s medical expenses.
Oh, shit. Mom. She had no idea what had happened to him. There hadn’t exactly been time to call her when he left, what with trying not to get murdered and all. He couldn’t stand the idea of her waiting for his usual visit day after day, and thinking that he’d abandoned her.
He had to get home. In and out, just long enough to pack some things and make a quick phone call. He’d be making two back to back trips, so if he passed out again, he expected that it would be on his return trip, same as last time. He’d wake up here and nobody would be the wiser.
The image of being stabbed to death in his kitchen made him hesitate, but if that woman had any idea how the Guild worked, she had to figure he wasn’t going to be coming back, or at least not without the mandatory Guild-issued bodyguard. It was an acceptable risk.
He began summoning impressions of his bedroom. His rumpled, unmade bed. The blue striped sheets. The feel of his carpet underfoot and the smell of linens and books. As he focused on each memory, they swiftly blossomed into full blown constructs with texture, scents, and visual details. He stepped forward—
—and hit the ground screaming, clawing at the Arc on his wrist and writhing as the raw, burning pain of frostbite and acid and flayed skin shot up his arm and into his brain. The torrent of agony cut off like a switch an instant after it started, but it took several minutes for the muscle spasms and disorientation to subside. The Arc was bitterly cold to the touch, and little wisps of frost spiraled across its surface.
His fingernails scrabbled in vain for a seam or clasp on the smooth bracelet, but found nothing, and it was far too small to go over his hand. Even though the Arc covered only one wrist, he felt claustrophobic and had to take some deep breaths to keep from panicking. For one frantic moment, he even considered searching the kitchen for a knife, but quickly discarded the idea as idiotic.
Daniel sat on the floor in his new apartment in Walker Hall and clutched the cold metal shackle on his wrist. For the first time in his life, he was no longer a free man.
5
He spent the night alternating between panic and fury, but by morning Daniel’s anger had turned cold and calculating. If Walkers were as rare and important as Saul claimed, he had leverage. And if the Guild insisted on training him before asking anything in return, he had time. Given those two things, he’d be able to work out a plan.
He showered and shaved, using the toiletries that someone had left for him in a wicker basket on the counter. Sticking up from the center of the basket was a little white card with a gold border that said, “WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME!” He flushed it down the toilet out of spite and put his only set of clothes back on.
He was in the living room sorting through the stack of books and papers he’d collected the day before when someone knocked. He put on a bland expression and opened the door.
“Hey buddy! How’s everything this morning? Sleep well?” said Saul as he swept past Daniel into the living room. “Seems like I always have a hard time nodding off the first few nights in a strange place, you know?”
Daniel stared at Saul in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? Thanks to you, I’m a fucking prisoner wearing a fucking torture device on my arm to keep me in line. I’m cut off from everyone I know, I been wearing the same clothes for three days now, and now I have some jackass in my face asking me how I slept, as if everything were fine. I’m doing fucking great, Saul, how are you?”
“I’m doin’ great. Slept like a baby.”
Daniel’s eyes started to bug out and his mouth opened wide, but Saul raised a hand to stop him before he exploded. “Relax. I’m just trying to lighten things up a little before you lose your mind. If it makes you feel any better, I freely admit that this is my fault. I should have warned you about trying to Walk before I left yesterday. It’s no excuse, but all that stuff about finding a new world kinda threw me off. And to be fair, you did promise Mr. Keldon to stay put without a bodyguard.” Saul gestured at Daniel’s Arc. “But I do apologize. I know that thing packs a helluva jolt.”
“Take it off. I’m not wearing it any more.”
Saul looked Daniel in the eye, suddenly very serious. “You sure? It’s not just some fancy piece of jewelry you got there. Once you put it on, it can never be used by anyone else. It’s expensive garbage. And we’re talking private jet expensive, if you catch my drift. Then you’re quits with the Guild forever, no second chances.”
His tone was mild, but his eyes were intense, boring into Daniel’s own. It reminded Daniel that there was no such thing as a private conversation here.
Saul continued in the same tone. “I know you’re pissed, but you have to understand that the inhibitor is there for your own good.”
“Come on, Saul. You can do better than that.”
“Remember what Bruce told you. If you overextend yourself, you can die. You’ve never tried to Walk between here and Earth, so you have no idea if you’re up to it, do you?”
Daniel felt his face get hot.
Saul didn’t wait for a reply. “No, you don’t. Walking is dangerous. That’s why the inhibitor is turned on for new recruits. Just because you can work the pedals doesn’t mean you’re qualified to get on the freeway.”
“Well, it nearly took my arm off. That wasn’t a warning, it was a punishment, and that’s not cool. You don’t do that to people.”
“How else is it supposed to stop you? It’s not like we can turn off your ability to Walk. The only thing we can do is interrupt your concentration, keep you from being able to focus. The inhibitor is just a feedback circuit, so as long as you don’t try to Walk, it can’t hurt you. No energy in, no energy out. And don’t worry, we’ll get it turned off as soon as you’re ready for your first solo crossing, I promise.”
Aware that he had a larger audience, Daniel gave in with as much grace as he could muster. “Fine. I wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again.”
“Great,” said Saul, heading for the door, “let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
They walked to Walker Hall’s main cafeteria. A breakfast buffet worthy of a five star resort lined one wall, consisting of silver platters heaped with everything from waffles and eggs to fish and salted rice. A swarm of kitchen staff and busboys circulated around the room,
laden with steam trays of hot food and empty plates in equal measure.
They loaded up a couple of plates and sat down at one of the long communal tables.
“I don’t want you paying for my meals, Saul. When it’s time to pay, I’ll get it.”
“You’ll be waitin’ a long time, then. The company picks up the meals here. You think I’d have taken you to lunch yesterday if I hadda pay for it? Not very likely,” said Saul.
“Oh. Well. That’s nice, I suppose.”
“Yeah, you suppose. So far the Guild’s offered you a job, kept you from Walking yourself to death, and fed you for free. Seems like you might think about that the next time you feel like ranting and raving about torture collars and crap like that.”
Daniel replied by grunting around a mouthful of waffle.
His eyes drifted around the room as he ate. People of every description and style of dress sat shoulder to shoulder over grits or soup or huge stacks of pancakes, an Arc gleaming on every wrist. They seemed happy enough.
As he examined the tables behind Saul, a woman carrying a tray caught his eye. She had silver-white hair tied up in a ponytail, which bounced as she walked.
“Saul!” hissed Daniel, pointing.
“What?” Saul craned his head around to see.
“It’s her! She found us! She …” Daniel took in the tray she was carrying, and especially the Arc she wore on her left wrist. “Of course. She works here. I cannot believe you, Saul, she fucking works here!”
Dan jumped up and started shouting and waving his arms. “HEY! You in the ponytail, over here!”
Several dozen heads swung around towards Daniel, including the woman’s. She frowned, but started walking over.
Saul sank down in his chair and put one hand over his eyes. When she arrived at the table she slammed down her tray and crossed her arms over her chest.
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