Dimension Drift

by Christina Bauer

  And today is the day I got one.

  Taking in a long breath, I knock on the door. “Mom, can I come in?”

  “Please do.”

  I push on the doors and step inside. What I see knocks the breath out of my lungs.

  What a pile of crap.

  The space is huge and open. Rows of large chalkboards line the walls, all of them covered in equations. The floor is a maze of old Formica tables topped with racks of glass vials. Tall metal machines called monoliths dot the floor. Monoliths can hold all sorts of equipment inside, everything from network routers to dark matter detectors. In the far corner, Mom sits at a workstation, furiously typing on a keyboard. Green computer monitors line the wall before her.

  I cross the floor, cataloging the black monoliths as I go. Most are old and scuffed up. All of them have faded United Americas insignias on it. Huh. Mom must have taken this stuff from her old lab. In addition, I scan the handwriting on the chalkboards. Mom’s the only one who’s written anything, and based on the layers of dust, that was quite a while ago. Did she erase Luci’s equations for some reason?

  I stop beside Mom’s table. “This lab needs some work, eh?” Mom doesn’t look up from her keyboard, so I raise my voice a little. “I said, this lab needs some new equipment. How have you been working with this stuff?”

  Mom keeps typing away. “What do you mean?”

  “Where are your magnetic regulators? Quantum field generators?” I scan the nearby tabletops. “You don’t even have an exotic matter detector.”

  Drift science combines engineering, quantum physics, computer science, and a little artistry. It’s the ultimate scientific pursuit. And it has the best toys to play with.

  Mom shrugs. “Luci and I got along fine without any of that.”

  I hug my elbows. Of course, Luci would figure out how to get things done without extra equipment. She always figured out a way to do what she was asked. That’s what made her Luci.

  Mom slaps her hand onto the wobbly tabletop. “Damn. This isn’t working. At this rate, I’ll never tap into the magnetic energy from the latest solar flares.”

  For the first time, I really look at the information on the computer screens lining the wall before Mom. All the data adds up to a single conclusion. “You need a magnetic enhancer.”

  Mom scrubs her hands over her face. “If one existed, that would be perfect.”

  “You stepped over one this morning. In my room, remember?”

  Mom swivels around in her chair, stopping when she faces me fully. “I thought that was something you were tinkering with. Does it work?”

  A sense of pride and warmth seeps through my veins. “Like a charm.”

  Mom eyes me for a long moment. I can almost see the doubts swimming through her mind. Meimi is impulsive. A dreamer. Unreliable. After a while she lets out a long breath. “Fine. Bring it here. I’ll take a look.”

  What a day. I’m invited to the lab and Mom admits she needs one of my inventions. Talk about a happy birthday. After rushing back to my room, I scoop up the device from my floor. Like always, the thing reminds me of a small octopus made of wires. It’s a bit of a mess, but Mom wants to see it. My heart lightens as I speed-walk back to the lab and hand over my creation.

  Mom turns the item over in her hands. “This should work nicely.” For Mom, that’s the equivalent of applauding while making the “ahh” noise meant to sounds like a crowd’s roar.

  My chest warms with her praise. “Thanks.”

  “So who are you doing freelance work like this for? Is it Derne-Ashe?” This is a megamedia company with offices in Western New Mass. Mom used to do freelance engineering work for their animatronics division. You know, helping them build new humanoid robot things for their theme parks. Derne-Ashe were thrilled to have a “real” scientist assisting. After Mom stopped speaking, I asked Derne-Ashe if I could take over my mother’s projects. That was a big no. I’m too young. Serves me right for sending my real resume instead of impersonating my mom. I’ve learned a lot since then.

  Mom’s looking at me with her right eyebrow arching upward. That means she wants some clarification on the whole Derne-Ashe question. Here goes. “I work for the Scythe, Mom.”

  “But he’s a criminal.”

  “Derne-Ashe didn’t want a kid helping them.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I say kid. “Staying off the grid is expensive.”

  We live out in part of Western New Mass that was once called the Berkshires. The government here is rather light on things like garbage pickup and police. It stinks—literally—but it’s the price you pay for living away from any dome. Crap infrastructure, but the government doesn’t watch us constantly, either. That said, the military police do sweep this area daily. Their full name is Mercenaries for Righteous Enforcement. Most people just call them the Merciless, because that’s what they are. To keep the Merciless away from Mom and me, I do freelance jobs for the Scythe. I swear, that guy can bribe or blackmail anybody.

  “It’s not fine, and I wish things were different.” Mom sighs. “My mind… My moods… It’s not fair to you.”

  I kneel before Mom’s chair so I can get a better look at her. “It’s fine, Mom. You took care of me for years. Plus, you taught me how to take care of myself. Everything I know about the drift is thanks to you. Now, it’s my turn to give back.”

  “Well, your work for the Scythe has clearly developed your skills.” Mom hands me back the enhancer. “This is top notch.”

  I beam from ear to ear. Top notch. I never thought I’d hear Mom call my work anything like that. “I’ll pop this on a monolith.”

  “Place it on that one.” Mom gestures toward the nearest metal tower.

  For the first time, I notice how the best of Mom’s old United Americas monoliths have been dragged into a rough circle. I pull open the access panel for the closest one and plug in the enhancer. The more I stare at these towers, the more I wonder.

  “Who’s coming to help, exactly?” I know it’s someone from a different world in a parallel dimension, but that’s not very specific. It could be a guy made of Jell-O for all I know.

  Jell-O would be cool, actually.

  Mom’s eyes stay lost in thought. “Luci’s hair. Her hair might work. That will carry an accurate DNA signature.” She pulls open the drawers on her desk and starts dumping stuff on the floor. Sheets of notes, all of them in Luci’s handwriting. A small box of tissues. And finally, one of Luci’s old brushes. Mom extracts a single white-blonde hair, sets it on a specimen slide, and then slips it in her pocket. “Perfect.”

  I clear my throat. “You didn’t answer my question. Who’s coming?”

  Mom sighs. “A man.”

  “Anything interesting? Scales? Extra eyes?” For some reason, I’m really pulling for a tail here.

  “Really. You and your imagination.” Mom shakes her head. “It will be a large, older, and somewhat angry man with a slight disfigurement. Now can we please open the corridor?”

  I can’t help but bounce on the balls of my feet. “Can I guess how we’ll do it?”

  “Of course.”

  “We open a drift void.” These look like tiny black holes that appear on a flat surface. In reality, they connect different dimensions and worlds.

  Mom nods. “And it will be visible to the naked eye.”

  Point of fact: I see drift voids all the time, not that I’m telling Mom that again. Sharing never went well for me as a kid. Every time I described seeing a drift void, Mom got super-upset, saying I was imagining things. Looking back, I think she was starting to lose touch with reality, even then. She was afraid the same thing was happening to me. But whatever the reason, I no longer share that I can see drift voids in all shapes and stages.

  A small smile rounds Mom’s mouth. “And then, what will we do?”

  I’m grinning as well. This is like when we were back being taught at home. “We’ll take our drift void that’s visible to everyone and make it wide enough for this big
guy to step through.”

  “Quite right.”

  “So let’s do it.”

  Mom frowns. “Aren’t you going to ask a million more questions?”

  “Do you want me to?” Luci certainly wouldn’t.

  “As a matter of fact, no. Let’s get started.”

  In all honesty, I should ask a ton more questions. Back in the day, Mom was the best drift scientist around. And now, who knows what she has planned? This may be nothing more than Mom trying to work through her feelings on Luci.

  But whatever it is, I’m helping her anyway.

  “And here we go!” Mom types a few last lines and hits the Enter key. The circle of tall machines starts to hum. The floor vibrates softly beneath my feet. Mom clicks a few more keystrokes. “Do you see anything?”

  What a question.

  There are three stages to creating those little black holes called drift voids. In the first phase, a spiral fracture appears on a flat surface. It looks like the wall or whatever turned into glass and then someone tried to punch their way through it: a central impact point with breaks around it. It still looks like the wall or whatever, only shattered.

  Second, those fractures melt and spin. That’s what’s called an active vortex, and it means trouble is coming.

  Third, the vortex darkens, turning into a miniature black hole called a drift void. Now, if some poor dummy touches that void—mostly because they don’t see anything unusual about it—then a matching mini black hole forms somewhere else. Usually, that means trouble isn’t just coming; it’s here.

  Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.

  Scanning the lab, I check for telltale signs of step one, the spiral fracture. Sure enough, spiral fracs are everywhere. Above Mom’s desk. By the doorknob. On a nearby table. In other words, spiral fracs happen so often, I don’t even notice them unless I’m trying. Based on drift science, that’s the way things should be. Connections form all the time, but most don’t develop.

  Mom furiously scribbles notes on a nearby pad. “Do you see any spiral fracs?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Be serious, Meimi.”

  I’d tell her that I’m totally serious, but there’s no point having this discussion again. “Maybe you would tell me where you expect one to appear?” I ask.

  “I’ve focused power on a spot in the center of the monoliths. Do you see anything there?”

  I step closer to the circle of tall machines. Sure enough, the center of the floor has a small spiral frac. It makes the checkerboard of green and white tiles look like someone tried to punch through them. “Yes, I see one.”

  “Excellent.” Mom copies some numbers from her sheet into her keyboard. “Let’s move on to phase two.”

  She hits the Enter key again.

  Instantly, the overhead lights burn so brightly, every corner of the lab is bathed in yellow light. After that, the overheads flicker off and on. On the floor, the spiral frac expands, becoming larger until it takes up almost all the space between the monoliths.

  After that, it changes.

  The fractured edges bleed into one another like the white and green tiles were made of melting wax. Then the merged-together colors spin.

  “It’s working,” I say breathlessly. “It’s definitely an active vortex now.”

  The colors swirl more quickly until the floor seems to collapse in on itself. What looks like a churning black hole descends into the floor, its depths partially illuminated by the flickering lights above. My skin prickles over with surprise. I’ve never seen a drift void this big before.

  “What’s happening now?” asks Mom.

  “The drift void’s definitely here.”

  “That’s fast.” Mom types even more furiously. “Your enhancer is unbelievably strong.”

  Plumes of dark smoke snake up from the drift void. I frown. Drift voids never give off emissions. Then again, drift voids aren’t supposed to be this large, either. The black mist curls into a cone-shape. My blood chills over.

  A small tornado is forming above the drift void.

  I point at the shifting air. “Is that supposed to happen?”

  Mom casts a glance over her shoulder. “Not precisely, but at this point, we should expect the unexpected. No one’s ever built a drift void this large before.” She purses her lips. “Which reminds me. How do you keep your enhancer from overloading?”

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet. It needs a regulator.” I rub my neck. I’ve run all sorts of drift void projections over the years. I never came up with any scenarios that generated miniature tornadoes. Although, it does make sense that the additional power would cause physical activity of some kind.

  Only trouble is, I have no idea what will happen next.

  I shake my head. “Maybe we should shut this down.”

  “Nonsense.” Mom rises from her desk and steps over to the circle of monoliths. Thicker plumes of smoke now twirl in the air. “It’s so beautiful.” Mom stares down at the drift void swirling on the floor. The flickering overhead lights cast odd shadows across her face. She shakes her head. “I could watch this forever.” Her eyes glaze over. It’s the same look Mom gets when she stares out the window.

  Not good. Most drift voids naturally close on their own after a few minutes. Right now, Mom’s computer system is keeping this one open far longer than usual. And if we’re getting tornados now, who knows what’s coming up next? We need to finish this experiment and fast.

  The tornado becomes more intense. Wind now howls in my ears. I have to shout to be heard. “Didn’t you say you needed to put some of Luci’s DNA in the drift void? You know, to invite your friend here?”

  Mom blinks hard for a few moments, but she doesn’t answer.

  “Did you hear me?” My words come out as part question, part shout.

  Finally, Mom’s eyes refocus. “Right. What were we doing again?”

  Oh, no.

  “Luci’s hair, Mom. Where is it?”

  “I have it.” Mom sets her hand into the pocket of her lab coat and pulls out the specimen slide with the white-blonde strand. Luci’s hair. Reaching into the edge of the mini-tornado, Mom drops my sister’s hair inside. All of a sudden, the drift void flares with multicolored lights. The many hues swirl and dive through the spinning cone of the tornado. For a moment, I see a shadowy figure standing in the center of the swirling lights.

  Mom grabs my upper arm. “That’s it. He’s here.”

  The figure turns to face Mom and me. It’s too hard to see much beyond the darkened silhouette framed in colored light. Clearly, this is a guy and he’s tall. But that’s about all I can see. “Are you sure that’s your friend?”

  “It has to be.”

  “Has to be?” I repeat. Whoa. That wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for.

  The swirl of colored lights flares more brightly than ever before. On reflex, I raise my arm to shield my eyes. The roar of wind turns deafening. The lab transforms into a cacophony of color and noise. Chalkboards topple over. Sheets of paper go flying. The dark figure raises his arm.

  Perfect stillness follows.

  No sound.

  No light.

  The noise of my own breath becomes super-loud in my ears. For a long moment, there is nothing but darkness and worry. Then, the overhead lights flicker on once more. The lab is just how it looked before. There’s no black hole in the floor. No multicolored tornado whirls between the monoliths.

  And worst of all, no one here to help find Luci.

  Mom sets her hand on her throat. “He didn’t come.”

  “Maybe your friend tried but couldn’t make it.” Which is really disappointing. Some small part of me was hoping to live out my childhood fantasy and meet a lizard guy.

  Mom’s eyes glisten with held-in tears. “How will we find Luci now?”

  “Look at me, Mom.” I move to stand right in front of her. She has no choice but to meet my gaze. “I’ve been searching public data and hacking into private s
ervers for months. I’ll find her. Plus, I’ve even gotten the Scythe on the case. Sooner or later, some information will turn up. We will find Luci. We just have to be patient.”

  Suddenly, the monolith that holds my magnetic enhancer rumbles. Bright red lights peep out from behind the seams. A jolt of worry moves though my limbs. That light means a system overload.

  The magnetic enhancer is about to explode.

  I grip her upper arms tightly. “We need to shut that monolith down now. My magnetic enhancer won’t last much longer.”

  Mom races over to her workstation, but she doesn’t take more than a few steps before all the monoliths transform into beacons of pulsing red light. Around us, the view of the lab turns into a series of what looks like photographs. Left, right, front, back. I turn around but can no longer see anything but the dualities of things. My insides freeze over with shock as I realize what’s happening.

  Everything is two-dimensional.

  “I’ve got it,” cries Mom. I hear her madly tapping at her keyboard. Another flash of red light follows, this one is brighter than ever. After that, everything returns to normal.

  Well, mostly normal. The monolith with my magnetic enhancer is now gone, leaving nothing but a burn mark on the floor.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “The Campinas effect,” explains Mom.

  The chill in my bones turns downright arctic. “You taught me about that. It happened in a lab back in the old United Americas. A power overload pushed one of the buildings into two-dimensional space time for a few seconds.”

  “That’s right.”

  My heart sinks. Oh, crap.

  The Merciless have systems to track illegal science like this. Sure, I pay the Scythe to make people look the other way, but this isn’t some standard little infraction. Shoving a whole factory into two-dimensional space-time is a major science crime. Mom and I would be declared enemies of the state. I need to see the Scythe ASAP and negotiate a side deal. He simply must bury this problem for me.

  My mind flips through implications and plans. Stay calm, Meimi. This is why we’ve always lived outside the dome. Undeserving folks like us are assumed to be dumbasses living in backwaters. The Merciless only do infraction sweeps once a day at noon.