Interfinity

by Bryan Davis

  “From the world where the copies of us died?”

  “Maybe, but whoever he is, he’s probably luring me, just like my parents said.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  I picked up Kelly’s bag and slung the strap over my shoulder. “Be a hero.”

  “Don’t overload yourself, hero.” She grabbed her pillow and my laptop from the floor. “I’ll get these.”

  We hurried out to the Camry. As the garage door rumbled open, Daryl lifted a bag into the trunk and tossed the keys toward Kelly. She caught them, hopped into the car, and started it. I shoved the other bags on top of Daryl’s and closed the trunk. When I opened the back door to get in, Daryl was already sitting there clutching Kelly’s pillow in her lap.

  “Ride up front,” she said, reaching for my backpack. “When I get done with my story, I’m gonna lie down and snooze.”

  I gave her the pack, climbed into the front seat, and closed the door. Kelly zoomed out of the driveway and onto the main road. When she accelerated to a safe cruising speed, she looked at the rearview mirror. “Okay, Daryl. Time to spill it. Tell us everything you know about Interfinity and Dr. Gordon.”

  Daryl closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Interfinity used to be called StarCast. They got a lot of press about their project to send radio signals into space, you know, hoping to contact intelligent life out there.” She opened her eyes. “Remember the movie ET? This was bigger, like souped-up, extraterrestrial phone tag. Crazy, right? But, guess what? They got an answer.”

  Kelly’s brow lifted. “From an alien?”

  “No. That’s the weirdest part of all. They got an answer from themselves.”

  “From themselves?”

  “Yeah. And a whole lot quicker than they thought possible.”

  “Did the signal bounce off something?” I asked. “Maybe it went in a circle.”

  “Nope.” Daryl gave me a mischievous smirk. “You of all people should be able to figure it out. Keep guessing.”

  “Keep guessing? That could take hours.” I leaned my head back and looked out the window. The countryside zipped by, dressed in its autumn attire — red maples, withered corn stalks, and a flock of birds migrating southward, making Vivaldi’s “Autumn” play in my mind.

  The soft violins eased my tensions. I closed my eyes and imagined the notes’ arrangement on the staff, each one appearing in its proper position as it played. When the pages filled, a breeze picked them up and carried them into the sky, page after page joining in a musical chain reaching toward heaven. When the last page drifted away, I opened my eyes. “They didn’t send words into space. They sent music.”

  Daryl pushed on my seat. “Smart boy.”

  “What made them decide on music?” Kelly asked.

  Daryl restarted her rapid-fire chatter. “They tried everything, but when they sent music, they finally got an answer, and it was the same music they sent out. So they started experimenting with different varieties. They recorded about a hundred songs, mostly classical, but some rock and country, even some polka, and they started broadcasting them in order. But do you know what happened? They received song number five on the list while they were still sending song number three.”

  “So it couldn’t have been bouncing back at them,” I said.

  “Brilliant deduction, Holmes.” Daryl pushed my elbow with her foot. “So after all their experiments, they came up with a wild theory. When Dr. Gordon presented his paper about it during a seminar at a fancy scientists’ convention, he got laughed out of the building, and he lost his grant from the National Science Foundation.”

  “I’ll bet that ticked him off,” Kelly said.

  “Definitely. He went out and got what you might call” — Daryl drew quotation marks in the air — “alternative funding from some kind of fringe group.”

  “How do you know they’re fringe?”

  “Are you kidding me? Anyone who would throw money at this crazy project has got to be fringe.”

  Kelly looked at her again in the rearview mirror. “But you don’t think it’s crazy, right?”

  “Normal people think it is, but, as you know” — Daryl pressed her thumb against her chest — “I’m far from normal.”

  “No argument from the sanity section.” Kelly rolled her eyes. “Go on.”

  “Anyway, Dr. Gordon sponsored this seminar for students who were interested in learning about radio telescopes and broadcasting into space, which sounded reasonable enough to a lot of teachers, so about a hundred kids showed up. But as he got to know the group, he pulled some of us aside into a special workshop and explained his newest theories.”

  She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. “He believes there are multiple worlds exactly like ours, you know, multidimensional stuff, only they’re slightly off time-wise.” She set her palms close together. “While something happens here …” She wiggled the fingers on one hand. “It happens a little while later in one of the other worlds.” She wiggled her other fingers to match. “But it might have already happened in yet another world.”

  “So that’s why they got the music before they sent it,” I said. “Copies of scientists at StarCast were sending it from another world, but the copies were ahead on the timeline.”

  “Exactly.” Daryl leaned back and sighed. “It’s fun talking to smart people. I don’t have to spell everything out.”

  “How many worlds are there?” Kelly asked.

  “Dr. Gordon identified three, but there might be more. We tried to pry more information out of him, but he went all Gandalf on us. You know …” Daryl leaned between the front seats and glanced at Kelly and me in turn. “Keep it secret. Keep it safe.”

  Kelly pushed her back with an elbow. “You and your movies.”

  “Dr. Gordon seemed to be a good guy,” Daryl continued, “so when he emailed me about Nathan’s parents and said he could help find the killer, I decided to keep a lookout and tell him if Nathan showed up at our school. I heard he sent the same message to a lot of kids at other schools.” She winked at me. “I guess I got lucky.”

  Kelly frowned. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your butt for keeping me out of the loop.” Watching her side mirror, she merged onto the Interstate. “Let’s just settle back and chill. We have about five hours to go.”

  I closed my eyes. “What about your dad? You gonna call him?”

  “Later. I’ll tell him we’re out on a date. He’ll love that.”

  I opened one eye. “Really?”

  “Well …” Kelly let a smile break through. “He likes you.”

  “Yeah,” Daryl piped up. “And after Kelly decided to give up guys because of her mom’s running around — ”

  “Daryl,” Kelly growled as she tightened her grip on the wheel. “You’re asking for it.”

  “What’s the big deal? Everyone knows about your parents. Anyway, Steven decided with parents like that Kelly would be an easy target, so one night she had to put him in his place.”

  Kelly’s cheeks turned bright red. “Daryl, cut it out!”

  “Why? I’m complimenting you. He deserved that kick in the — ”

  “Daryl! If you don’t stop it, I’ll — ”

  “So Kelly said she’d never date anyone again unless the perfect gentleman came along, and that worried her dad. I guess he thought she’d turn butch or something, but since she just called you a perfect gentleman —Alakazam! Everyone’s happy.”

  Kelly raised a fist. “You won’t be happy when I kick you and your motor mouth out of the car and make you walk home.”

  “You wouldn’t dare. I know all your secrets.” Daryl fluffed the pillow, lay on the seat, and closed her eyes. “Wake me when we get to Illinois. I like to blow kisses at state welcome signs.”

  Kelly gripped the wheel with stiffened fingers, her arms tight and her stare locked straight ahead.

  I pulled my lips in. No way was I going to breathe a word. If Kelly got any hotter,
steam would spew out her ears.

  After a few minutes, a light snore sounded from the backseat. Kelly let out a long sigh and relaxed her grip. A tear glistening in her eye, she whispered, “I guess I don’t have much left to hide, do I?”

  I gave her a slight shrug. “I didn’t hear anything bad.”

  “Daryl made it sound a lot better than it was.” As she turned toward me, the tear meandered down her cheek. “I’m not the kind of girl you’d be interested in.”

  “Don’t you mean …” Leaning toward her, I lowered my voice. “… you weren’t that kind of girl?”

  She wiped the tear, but a new one streamed from her other eye. “Does it make any difference? What’s done is done.”

  “Yeah. It makes a difference.” I rubbed a finger along the seatbelt strap, swallowing to keep my voice steady. “It makes a big difference, at least to me.”

  Her lips formed a trembling smile. “Why?”

  “Like you said. What’s done is done.” I lifted my shoulders in another casual shrug. “I love you for who you are now.”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed, and a hint of anger spiced her voice. “Don’t use that word on me.”

  I drew back. “What word?”

  “I’ve heard it too many times. My mom used it. My dad used it. Steven used it. And none of them ever meant it. They just used it.”

  “You mean love?”

  She brushed a fresh tear from each eye. “You can’t possibly love me yet. Don’t say it unless you really mean it.”

  Not knowing how to respond, I folded my arms over my chest and slid away. Who would’ve thought I could get into trouble by using that word? I did love my new sister, so didn’t it make sense to let her know?

  I gazed at her, trying to figure out the demons that stalked her mind — unfaithfulness, betrayal, abandonment. As more tears streamed, she kept her eyes focused ahead.

  I let out a quiet sigh. Kelly didn’t need to hear the word; she needed to see it acted out.

  Reaching under the dash, I touched the glove box. “You got any tissues in here?”

  “Should be some.”

  I opened the box, withdrew a pack of tissues, and handed her one. “Want me to drive for a while?”

  She dabbed her eyes and nodded. “We need gas anyway.”

  I yanked on the cuff of Daryl’s jeans. “Wake up, O Keeper of Dimensional Secrets. It’s time to dock the Millennium Falcon.”

  Daryl yawned. “You know, you shouldn’t talk about movies so much. It gets kind of annoying.”

  After stopping at a convenience store, filling up with gas, and grabbing some snacks, I set a bottle of Dr Pepper in the cup holder and started the car. “Everyone ready?”

  “I am,” Daryl called from the backseat. She pulled a Hershey’s Kiss from a bag and unwrapped the foil. “Anyone want a kiss?”

  “Not from you,” Kelly said. Now sitting in front on the passenger side, she leaned against the pillow squished between her head and the window, closed her eyes, and pushed my leg with her sock-covered toe. “Ask Nathan. He looks like he could use a kiss.”

  I reached back. “Sure. I’ll have one.”

  Daryl laid a kiss in my hand. “As you wish.”

  “Thanks.” After peeling off the foil wrapper and popping the candy into my mouth, I scanned the radio dial and found a classical station. I kept the volume low, hoping the music wouldn’t activate the mirror in the back. During a soothing Chopin sonata, Daryl fell asleep, and Kelly eased into a restless doze. Her eyelids twitched from time to time, and her brow furrowed. Once, she let out a low groan and whispered something imperceptible.

  I squeezed the steering wheel. Bad dreams. But it would be a shame to wake her up. With her lips pursed, her eyes closed, and her hands spread softly on her lap, she looked more like a child than a young woman. Still, she had probably experienced far more pain than any child should have to suffer.

  I mentally replayed her recent love tirade. It was tragic. She couldn’t even stand hearing the word. Maybe she hadn’t experienced enough real love.

  Leaning toward her, I slid my hand under hers and held it, barely touching her skin. Her fingers twitched and returned the light grasp. I caressed her knuckles with my thumb. Maybe my touch would chase the phantoms away.

  Kelly gasped. Her eyes flashed open. She jerked her hand away and laid it on her chest. “I had the worst dream!”

  Daryl’s heavy breathing ended with a snort. “What’s going on?”

  “Kelly had a bad dream.” I looked at her. “Want to tell us about it?”

  She gestured with her hands. “We were driving behind a big truck, some kind of tanker, and then we —”

  A phone rang. I scanned the console and the seats. “Where did I put it?”

  As the ringing continued, Kelly searched the floorboard. “Here.” She picked up my phone and gave it to me. “I’ll tell you the rest later.”

  I touched the Answer icon and raised the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Nathan, are you almost here?”

  “Hi, Clara. We still have about three hours to go. Why?”

  “Tell Kelly to floor it. I need you to — ”

  Silence followed.

  “Clara?” I looked at the phone’s screen. The call had dropped.

  Kelly slid closer. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just a second.” I called Clara’s phone and waited through several trills. When her voice mail picked up, I disconnected and set the phone on the console. “I think Clara’s in trouble.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I pressed the gas pedal. As the speedometer pushed past eighty, I checked the rearview mirror. A dark car followed pretty far back, but it kept pace.

  Kelly set a hand on the dashboard. “If a state trooper catches you, it’ll take a lot longer than three hours to get to Clara.”

  “True.” I lifted my foot and checked the mirror again. The car had closed in enough to identify the model, a Lincoln Town Car. “We’re being followed. He took off when I did, and now he’s slowing down.”

  Kelly looked out the back window. “Could it be Dr. Gordon?”

  “He drove a Lincoln like that one. I saw it at the school.”

  She swiveled forward and tightened her seatbelt. “Then floor it. Now we want a cop to catch us.”

  As I accelerated again, Daryl flopped back in her seat. “All right! It’s adventure time!”

  I shook my head. “High-speed adventure is overrated.”

  “Don’t be a stick in the mud, Marty. Set the time circuits. When we hit eighty-eight miles per hour, we’re going back to the future.”

  I checked the speedometer, already at ninety. “Daryl, can you find my mirror? It’s in my backpack.”

  “Sure.” After pulling it out, she held it on her lap. “What now?”

  “Just look at it. Use it like a rearview mirror and tell me what you see.”

  She held the mirror in front of her face. “Ew! I’m a mess!”

  As the speedometer passed one hundred, the engine whined and rattled. I turned up the radio and looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Watch the road. Not your face.”

  “I can do both.” Daryl pushed her hair back and primped her curly red bangs. “Nothing yet.”

  I weaved around cars, alternately braking and accelerating again as I changed lanes. After a minute or so, Daryl called out, “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

  Kelly reached back, grabbed the mirror, and propped it on the dashboard. “We’ll all watch it together.”

  I glanced from the road ahead, to the rearview mirror, to Dad’s mirror, while continuing the mad dash, banking left, then right, then left again. The Lincoln drew closer, following in our wake like a skier behind a boat and matching us swerve for swerve.

  “Kick it, Nathan!” Daryl shouted. “You have the smaller car. Take it somewhere he can’t follow.”

  Ahead, a conversion van and a gasoline tanker drove side by side, blocking the way. I pressed the brake and,
after easing onto the shoulder, I floored the pedal again and began passing the tanker. The Camry’s two right tires rumbled on the grass, shaking us.

  “Nathan, this is my dream,” Kelly said. “If it stays the same — ” She thrust a finger. “A bridge!”

  I jerked to the left, missing the bridge abutment but clipping the tanker’s front fender with the Camry’s rear. The driver slammed on his brakes. His trailer fishtailed and slapped the conversion van into the median. The Lincoln zoomed between the trailer and the side of the bridge, but when the trailer swung back, it spanked the Lincoln in the rear, sending it lurching ahead.

  The tanker tipped over and skidded. As the tank’s side scraped the bridge’s metal floor, showers of sparks flew everywhere.

  Daryl squealed, “It’s gonna blow!”

  “Did it explode in your dream?” I asked Kelly.

  “I don’t know.” Keeping a hand on Dad’s mirror, she hunkered down. “I woke up before this part.”

  I floored the pedal again. In the car’s mirror a tanker lay on its side at a safe distance away while the Lincoln continued giving chase. “It didn’t explode, but Gordon’s still on our tail.”

  Kelly straightened and pointed at Dad’s mirror. “Look!”

  In the reflection, a deserted country road wound through a tree-spotted meadow. “That might be our escape route, but I need a light. What do we have?”

  Daryl searched around her seat. “Where’s your camera?”

  “In the trunk.”

  Kelly pointed at the keys in the ignition. “There’s a little flashlight on the ring, but it’s not very bright.”

  “You got anything brighter?”

  “My father sometimes keeps a …” She reached under her seat and withdrew a foot-long camper’s flashlight. “Here it is.”

  “I’ll hold the mirror,” I said, grabbing its edge. “Get ready to turn it on.”

  “Here he comes.” Daryl bounced on her knees as she looked out the back window. “Think he’ll push us off the road?”

  “Or worse. He might have a gun. I’d keep my head down if I were you.”

  “Gotcha.” Daryl ducked low. “Avoid lead poisoning.”