Center of the Universe

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Center of the Universe Page 3

by N E Riggs


  “We’ll get some new clothes for you later,” she said. “I’ll look up the records on where you’re from.”

  “Earth,” David said, being helpful.

  Brigid snorted. “I’ll need more than that. Over a third of the worlds are called Earth.”

  David blinked. “Ah, well, I live in Boston, in the United States of America.”

  “That should be more helpful.” Brigid nodded. “Come back to my office when you’re finished.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and closed the door. As soon as he was alone, he all but ripped his soiled clothes off. A large waste can stood next to the sink, and David dumped his clothes inside. He doubted the blood could ever be washed out of them. On the sink he placed his wallet, his cell phone, and Bramira, which stopped glowing as soon as he let go. He stared at his cell phone for a long moment then picked it up. He found John’s number and hit call. He held his breath, hoping, but nothing happened. The phone read ‘no service.’

  “Fucking typical,” he sighed, putting the phone down. He hadn’t really thought that would work. The locals obviously had advanced communications. Maybe he just needed to get a different carrier? He’d ask Brigid.

  He stepped into the shower. Rather than the dials he was used to, there was a pad where the temperature could be inputted directly. He turned it way too high at first, and had to turn it back down quickly, swearing and trying to avoid the scalding water.

  He scrubbed thoroughly. There was blood and dirt all over his skin and in his hair. He thought of Cethon and swallowed hard. He had only a few bruises and scrapes from the adventure, and they were already healing. David always bounced back quickly from injuries.

  As he washed his hair, he thought about what Cethon had said to him. She’d known his name. She said he burned like a thousand suns, which was obviously an expression of some sort. She said Bramira was his and that it would respond to him – and that had happened. He had no illusions that he could take some strange disk and throw it well enough to kill two rampaging monsters. She said too that she’d known she would die and that he wasn’t allowed to fall in love. According to Brigid, she’d been the Sword Cardinal, whatever that meant.

  He wondered how much she had known and hadn’t said. He thought she’d intended to say more before she died, but hadn’t been able to.

  He spent a long time in the shower, washing and rinsing and washing himself all over again. His skin was starting to feel raw when he finally turned off the water and climbed out. He dried himself off, finally starting to feel like himself again. He pulled the bathrobe on and stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. He reached up and pinched his check. “Ow.” Nope, still not a dream. That was the second pinch tonight, and still no good. He supposed he should stop, but he still hoped he’d wake up.

  He brushed his teeth and hair and shaved. He looked at himself again and smiled at his reflection. He didn’t look right. His dark eyes were wide, and his smile too forced. With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror. Amazingly, the translator on his temple hadn’t come off in the shower, and he wondered if it was now attached to him permanently. He managed to fit his wallet and cell phone inside the bathrobe pocket then carefully picked up Bramira. The weapon started glowing again. He carefully ran a finger across it, but there was no blood on it, and the edge looked as sharp as ever, despite it having torn through bodies, bones, and organs just a short while ago.

  He packed the basket back up and padded down the hallway barefoot. Brigid looked up from her computer as he entered her office and motioned for him to sit down on the other side of the desk. David sat, placing Bramira on the desk in front of him. “So I might need more details,” Brigid said. Her computer was thin as a piece of paper and appeared to be a touchscreen. “I found ten worlds with a city called Boston, with nine of them in a country called the United States of America. I need to be sure I found the right place.”

  Over the ten minutes or so, Brigid asked him one question after another. How old was his country? What were names of other countries and cities? Who were some famous people from history? David answered every question as best he could. Fortunately, he liked history and geography in school, and she didn’t ask him anything too obscure.

  Finally, Brigid nodded. “Number 5297, like I thought,” she said proudly. “Never met someone from that world before.” She ran a finger across the computer, making the screen change. Her face fell. “Oh. That’s not good.”

  “What is it?” David asked, staring at the numbers on the screen. He could read them, but he had no idea what they represented.

  “Before today, the last time a gateway opened into World 5297 was over five years ago. And there’s no mention of other gateways opening there anytime soon.”

  David tensed. “And what does that mean?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “You’re stuck here,” Brigid said, “and I don’t know when you might be able to go home.”

  3

  Dreaming of Heroics

  David stared down at Brigid’s desk, studying the rich mahogany, following the lines of the wood as they met and separated again. He trembled, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt cold, the thin bathrobe no longer enough to keep him warm.

  “You’re not the only one who’s ever been stuck on Bantong,” Brigid said softly.

  Slowly, David raised his gaze from her desk. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.” He’d been dragged here against his will.

  “Few travelers do,” Brigid said. She reached around the computer, picked up his hand and grasped it between both of hers. Her grip was firm, and her gaze steady. “That’s why you have me. I’m a Lost Priest – some people come to Bantong knowing what it is and knowing how to get back, but most don’t. There are so many people with the same story as you. I will find you clothes and food and shelter and a job. I will let you know when a gateway opens to your world, so that if you wish you may leave Bantong. I will never abandon you.” Her hands tightened around his. “Okay?”

  He nodded, but didn’t speak. He didn’t think he could.

  “You’re not even the only person from World 5297 on Bantong,” Brigid added, her tone bright and perky again. David drew in an easier breath. Brigid released his hands and pointed to the computer screen. “See, there’s someone named Seth Walker from your Earth. He’s been here for over eight years. You can meet him anytime you want. He lives in Jigok and—” she cut off suddenly. Fast as lightening, her hand slapped down on the screen, and the information on Seth Walker disappeared. “Why don’t we get you some new clothes and a place to sleep for tonight? We can talk more in the morning.” She smiled brightly – too brightly, even for her.

  “Okay,” David said. Now that he thought of it, his body ached and his eyes kept drifting shut. He was still half-hoping this was a dream. Maybe if he fell asleep in the dream he’d wake up. The pinches hadn’t done anything, but maybe this was a particularly stubborn hallucination.

  Brigid hopped up from her seat and led him out of her office. David picked up Bramira and followed her back down the long hallway. They returned to the elevator. It went down, then left, then forwards, then down some more, until David stopped being surprised by its movements.

  With a faint ping that was just like home and made his heart ache for the similarity, the elevator doors opened. David and Brigid stepped into what looked like an enormous store. Rows upon rows of clothes covered a massive room. Neat labels hung from the ceiling, and Brigid led him to the men’s section.

  “Pick at least a few outfits,” Brigid said, urging him towards a rack of long sleeve shirts.

  David reached out and touched the fabric. It felt like cotton. He wondered if it really was cotton, or some crazy alien material. “Is my money any good here?” he asked. He didn’t see any prices. The shirt had a label at the collar, saying ‘large,’ but he wondered if that was the same as an Earth large. He held up the shirt against his chest, estimating the size. It seemed a bit big for him. He was tall b
ut rangy.

  Brigid laughed. “I told you, I’m here to help you. All of Kumarkan exists to help people like you.” At his blank look, she said, “That means you don’t have to pay. Not now, at least. Later, when you get a job. Now go on, find a few things you like. There’s a fitting room over there.” She pointed off to the side.

  He nodded and dived into the racks. “Welcome to shopping hell.” If he’d be stuck for who-knows-how-long, he’d need lots of clothes. And if they were free, however temporarily, he should take advantage of it. He decided to get everything that was decent and fit him.

  Well over an hour later, he had a large stack of shirts, pants, jackets, and underwear, plus a pair of shoes and a pair of boots. Most of the clothes had looked either ancient or bizarrely futuristic, so he passed that nonsense up, but he found a surprising amount that looked just like clothes from Earth. There were even jeans and hoodies. David felt strangely pleased by the sight.

  Brigid found a large duffel bag, and they carted his newfound clothes away together while David yawned loudly. Returning to the elevator, they traveled up and right and backwards and right some more and then down a bit.

  This new hallway looked like a hotel, David thought, by now so tired he barely saw anything beyond the tan walls and pale carpet. Brigid led him a few doors down and unlocked one. She took the duffel bag from him, placed it off to one side, and pushed him down on the bed.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” she said.

  David mumbled something that might have been an agreement. The lights were turned off, and he heard the door close. Then he was fast asleep.

  He woke up hours later. He sat up, blinking his eyes and stretching slowly. He still wore the bathrobe. The small bedside table held his phone, his wallet, and Bramira. Brigid must have put them there.

  He stood carefully, and walked over to the heavy curtains. He pulled them aside and stared out at the wonder on the other side of his window.

  The sun hung high in the sky, fluffy white clouds drifting lazily across an expanse of blue. He might have believed he was at home, and everything had been nothing but a crazy dream. But the city that lay before him was like nothing on Earth.

  Tall spires rose up all around, some thin and delicate, others thick and unadorned. They were glass and steel and brick and wood and other materials he couldn’t name. He looked down, far down. He could barely see the ground – he must be at least fifty stories up. The buildings around him soared so high he couldn’t see the tops. He looked back up, watching the planes flying through the sky. Some looked like proper airplanes, and he saw one helicopter. Another looked like it had been built by the Wright Brothers. Another machine was identical to the space shuttle. And there were more that were completely unfamiliar: some long and thin and sleek, others were blocky and rigid and not at all aerodynamic, while still others were circular disks that whizzed across the sky like UFOs.

  Slowly, David drew closed the curtains and turned back to the room. He closed his eyes for a good minute, breathing slowly. Then he knocked his heels together and said, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” Then he opened his eyes and opened the curtains again. “Still not in Kansas. Shit.” Firmly closing the curtains again, he forced himself to laugh. “Guess it only works with the right shoes.”

  His room was comforting after that look outside. The bed was large and soft, the blankets all messed up and tangled around themselves. A large white rectangle hung on the wall across from the bed, thin as a piece of paper. Brigid’s computer had been just as thin; David wondered if it was a television. He found the bathroom, which contained all the necessities. The controls for the shower were the same as the one he’d used last night.

  He cleaned himself off quickly and thoroughly. He stared at himself, but he saw no bruises, no cuts, no dried blood. No evidence at all of the battle. He put on some of his new clothes. They fit just fine and felt like clothes ought to feel. He could almost imagine he was back home, so long as he kept his eyes shut.

  A box had been left on the chair beside the television. David opened it to find an apple, a hunk of cheese, a small loaf of bread, and a few slices of turkey. At least, he hoped it was turkey. It tasted like turkey. It was a strange breakfast, but David was too hungry to care. He demolished the entire meal in minutes.

  He went back and sat on the bed. He didn’t try to turn on the television, not wanting to see what wonders it might show. Or worse, whatever the Bantonan version of crappy television was. He reached over to the bedside table and picked up Bramira. Carefully, wary of the razor-sharp outer edge, he whirled it around his finger a few times, slowly. He watched, captivated, the way it shone as it tilted and circled his finger. The room lit up oddly as Bramira moved. “Cool,” he murmured, enraptured by the shifting shadows. Eventually he stopped twirling it and held it, staring at it closely.

  It was definitely sharp, but it had gone straight through those griffins, slicing as effortlessly through bone and muscle as it had flesh and organs. However sharp it was, surely it shouldn’t have been able to do that. There was nothing normal about Bramira, just like there was nothing normal about Bantong. But where Bantong frightened him and made him want to hide away in this room, Bramira was warm and comforting in his hands. It shone only when he held it. Like it truly did belong to him.

  He went to put it back on the table and finally noticed it had been placed on a book. He picked up the book, leaving Bramira on the table. The Traveler’s Guide to Bantong read the cover. Still amazed he could read at all, he slowly leafed through the book.

  It was filled with maps and charts and diagrams and pictures. He went back to the beginning and started to read. It started,

  ‘Welcome, Traveler, to Bantong! You will be comfortable during your stay here. Your Lost Priest will help you find a home and a job during your visit. There is work for everyone here, whether your home world has conquered the stars or if you’ve only discovered fire. The people of Bantong are helpful and understanding. We have many travelers such as yourself. By the time you find a gateway back to your home world, you may find you don’t want to leave Bantong. And why would you want to leave? There is nowhere in the cosmos quite like Bantong.

  He was still reading over an hour later when a knock sounded at his door. He left the book open on the bed. There was no window or peephole at the door, so he shrugged and opened it. Brigid stood on the other side, her smile even brighter in the light of day.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked, not waiting for permission to come inside.

  “Yeah,” David said, closing the door behind her. Brigid made a soft tutting noise at his closed curtains and pulled them open. David cringed and averted his eyes. He was still holding out that everything had been caused by drugs and/or alcohol, and the view outside wasn’t helping with that. He sat back down on the bed while Brigid perched on the chair. She pulled out a piece of white paper, about the size of a playing card. She shook it firmly and the card got bigger, larger than a piece of paper. She put it on her lap, and it didn’t curve and bend, staying stiff. When Brigid put her fingers to the surface, words appeared. A portable computer, David realized, and wondered if the one in her office could get smaller.

  “I see you found the book I left you. Have you had a chance to read it yet?” she asked, typing quickly.

  “A little,” David said. He’d spent most of the hour staring at the maps and pictures, trying to find familiar sights. He’d found one map which, if he titled the page and squinted optimistically, could have shown Florida. Sadly, it wasn’t, no matter how much he contorted the page to make it look like Florida.

  “Good. Well, you’ve got clothes, a good night’s rest, and some food. Ready for your shots?” She pulled a syringe out of her pocket.

  David eyed it. “I’m not sick.”

  “Most people aren’t. There are all sorts of diseases, though, and we don’t want you bringing in something that can hurt us. Our diseases could hurt
you too. Come on, it’ll just be a tiny pinch, nothing a strong guy like you should worry about.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  After a huff, David rolled back his sleeve and extended his arm. She pressed the syringe to his inner elbow. Unlike home, he barely felt it. Clear liquid seeped into him, and Brigid took the syringe away. Turning it on its side, she then swiped the syringe down his arm. “There. Now you don’t have to worry about getting sick or becoming a father. We’ve got your DNA sample, so we’re good. Now, it’s time to think about work. What did you do back on your home world?”

  He winced. The mention of work was enough to push everything else from his mind. He looked out the window as a ship that ought to be too big to fly drifted past. Surely his job woes shouldn’t follow him to a place like this. When people ended up in magical lands, they automatically became kings or warriors. “I’m sort of between jobs at the moment,” he said awkwardly. “I’ve done office work. I worked retail before that. And before that I was a waiter. And I did security for a while...” he trailed off weakly, feeling useless.

  Brigid typed a few things into her computer, her lips pursed thoughtfully. “World 5297 is fairly advanced, technologically,” she said mostly to herself. “We can always use people in maintenance, or information technology, or just doing admin. That’s probably like what you did during your office job.”

  He nodded miserably. The last thing he wanted was to do more work like that. He’d quit because the thought of writing up one more mindless and pointless memo made him want to bite something – preferably his old boss.

  Brigid seemed to realize that, because she smiled at him, her fingers poised on the computer. “If you haven’t found your passion yet, that’s okay. This is Bantong, the world of Aeons. Anything and everything is possible here. Living your dreams in your home world can be scary, but Bantong exists for dreams. So what have you always wanted to try?”

 

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