The Void of Mist and Thunder

  Par for the course in this place that seemed beyond the realm of the physics she understood so well.

  She’d just lifted her gaze back to the ocean when a thump of sound shook the air and the ground, a thunderclap that made her bounce off the sand. She threw out her arms for balance and searched the beach for any sign of what had happened.

  The sound thumped again. Then again. The land around her shook, but this time didn’t stop. The trees behind her trembled; several were uprooted and fell, crashing against each other. Dots of light fell from the sky, vanishing before they hit the ground. Farther down the beach, pillars of stone shot through the sand, rising up until it looked like they had their very own Stonehenge to explore. The ocean froze, then cracked into a million icy pieces, exploding upward a hundred feet, then falling again like a rain of crystal. The sand nearby swirled in little tornadoes, the funnels spinning faster and faster.

  Suddenly Chu was by her side, having sprinted in from the shifting woods. He collapsed next to her when another jolt of sound and quaking shook the world.

  “This is madness!” he shouted at her. “Things are becoming more and more unstable!”

  Jane wanted to argue with him—that was always her instinct—but she knew he was right. First, the strange gash in the air earlier, peeking into another Reality. And now this, a sudden uptick in the strangeness that was the Nonex. She nodded at Chu.

  The thumps of noise stopped. The land grew still. The pillars that had risen on the beach slowly sank back underground. The ocean liquefied, glistening and smooth. The small funnels of spinning sand stopped, collapsing with a dusty poof. All seemed still and quiet.

  Thoughts and plans were forming inside Jane’s head, but they weren’t solid enough to describe. Like an epiphany in another language, the ideas still needed to be translated, but they were there all the same.

  Reginald Chu had a look in his eyes that made her think his mind had spun in the same direction as hers.

  “Together,” he whispered, his voice still loud in the sudden silence. “If we can work together, then I think there’s a way for both of us to be happy in the end.”

  Chapter 3

  One Last Try

  It’s hot, Mom.”

  Lorena Higginbottom looked over at her daughter as they trampled through the woods. The girl did have a few strands of hair matted against her forehead, like squiggly little worms. “Well, the fall weather should be here soon.”

  “I’m so hot my sweat is sweating.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, dear.”

  “I know.”

  They’d visited these woods in eastern Washington every day for the last week, stomping their way along the same path often enough that a solid trail was beginning to appear, making the journey a little easier. Lorena had the straps of a duffel bag looped over her shoulder, its contents consisting of a single item. An extremely important, rare, expensive, incredibly-difficult-to-create item that she’d guard with her life, if necessary.

  The item was long, solid, and heavy, with a brass shell lined with dials and switches. A Chi’karda Drive was housed inside it—a complex network of chips, wires, and nanotech that could literally alter reality itself.

  It was a Barrier Wand.

  And the only hope she had of finding her son.

  “If it doesn’t work today,” Lisa said as she ducked under the low-hanging branch of an oak tree, “I think we should try something else.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Lorena responded. “I wanted to do this without getting George and the others involved, but we might not have a choice.”

  The two of them stepped across the forest floor, cricks and cracks filling the air along with the pungent smells of pine needles and bark and something else that wavered between sweet and rotten. Sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves and sprinkled the ground with golden drops.

  “What do you have against Master George anyway?” Lisa asked.

  Lorena almost stopped walking, but she caught herself and kept going. Did she really want to talk about her feelings toward the leader of the Realitants right now? They were so complicated. “Nothing at all,” she finally said, a simple enough response.

  “Come on, Mom. I know there’s something. I’m not quite as stupid as Tick always says I am.”

  “Tick says no such thing!”

  “Mom, answer the question.” Lisa pushed her way past a small branch and seemed to make no effort to keep it from swinging back and smacking Lorena in the face.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.”

  Lorena heard the girl snicker. “I’ll get you back for that, young lady.” She was glad her daughter couldn’t see the sudden smile that sprang up, but it couldn’t be helped. Lisa’s playfulness was a welcome thing indeed.

  “So . . . answer the question.”

  Lorena had no choice but to address the touchy subject. “As I said, I have nothing against that man whatsoever. If I did, not in a million years would I have let Atticus continue working for him and his merry group of heroes. It’s just complicated.”

  “Then why haven’t we contacted him? Why aren’t we working together with him? He knows a lot more than we do!”

  Lorena kept her doubts about that to herself. “I may be out of practice, but I’m no dummy when it comes to the Realities, you know.”

  Lisa stopped and faced her mom. “I know, Mom, but don’t you think we could figure this out a lot faster if we had their help?”

  “Maybe.” Lorena stepped closer to Lisa and reached out to grip the girl’s shoulders. “But I have my reasons. Number one, George has a heart of gold, but he can be reckless when times get . . . tense. That’s okay usually—but not when my son’s life is on the line like this.”

  “And number two?”

  Lorena gathered her thoughts for a second before answering. “The world’s in shambles, Lisa. All the natural disasters, all the deaths, all the homeless and sick, all the damage. And who knows what kind of permanent damage the other Realities have experienced. George and the Realitants are going to have a lot on their plate, and to be honest, I wouldn’t be able to blame them if Atticus wasn’t their top priority.”

  “What? How can they—”

  “He’s one boy, Lisa! One life. The Realitants have to worry about billions of others.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that even though George claims he’s going to do whatever it takes to find out what happened to Atticus, I can’t put my full trust and hope in that. We need to take it on ourselves to get this done. Do what we have to do, and let them do what they have to do.”

  Lisa pursed her lips, obviously considering it all for a long moment. “Maybe it helps that two groups are coming at it from different directions. Only one of us needs to find him.”

  “Bingo.” Lorena did her best to smile, but for some reason, her heart couldn’t make it feel genuine. Once again, speaking of the world and the trouble it was in had soured her mood; everything seemed worse since her son had vanished.

  “So we go to the spot,” Lisa said, “and we try again.”

  “Bingo times two.”

  “And if it doesn’t work today, then we try something else.”

  “Bingo times three.”

  “Okay.” Lisa turned around and started walking again.

  As Lorena followed, she thought for the millionth time that she was crazy to involve Lisa in this quest. Yes, she was endangering yet another of her children, but she couldn’t help it. Lisa was bright, and upbeat, and funny. Brave. And the girl loved her family as powerfully as Lorena did. She needed Lisa. Edgar—bless his heart—wasn’t the right person to help her now. And someone had to be with little Kayla.

  Lorena needed Lisa. Desperately. She couldn’t do this alone. Lorena would just have to do whatever it took to keep the girl safe until they figured things out. Until Atticus was back together with them all.

  They reached a clearing about twenty feet wide, their rec
ent visits and footsteps and sit-downs having flattened the grass considerably. A circle of thick pines bordered the spot, the tree branches stretching to the sky far above. Lorena saw a squirrel scurry its way up one of the trees, dropping an acorn in its haste.

  Lisa slipped off her backpack; she’d been in charge of the food because Lorena had to carry the heavy load of the Barrier Wand. They’d done this every day, and sharing a nice lunch put some cracks in the heavy dome of doom and gloom that hung over their mission. The two of them sat down in the middle of the clearing, facing each other.

  “You want the turkey or the ham?” Lisa asked as she pulled out the sandwiches.

  “Turkey. That ham’s been doing something awful to my stomach.”

  “Thanks for sharing, Mom. My hunger just doubled.”

  “Sorry, dear.”

  They chomped through the meal, and then it was time to get down to business. Lorena unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out the hefty shaft of the Barrier Wand. The scant drifts of sunlight that filtered through the leaves glinted and winked off the shiny golden surface as she maneuvered the thing until she held it directly in front of her folded legs, its bottom end sunk into the debris of the forest floor. She looked past the Wand at Lisa.

  “It’s a thing of beauty, don’t you think?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Maybe the first time I saw it.”

  “Oh, I never tire of it. Maybe it’s knowing the unimaginable power that’s coiled up inside of it. I’m a scientist, and yet it still feels like magic to me.”

  “A cell phone would be magic if you showed it to somebody a hundred years ago.”

  Lorena felt a burst of pride at the statement. “Well said, Lisa, well said. Just like Arthur C. Clarke.”

  “Who?”

  The pride bubble burst a bit. “Never mind.”

  “Let’s do this thing.”

  “Yes. Let’s do. I’m going to crank up the Chi’karda Drive to its highest level. We’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Lisa didn’t answer right away, and Lorena saw a flicker of deep concern in the girl’s eyes.

  “Don’t worry, Lisa. I don’t think it can hurt us. I’m more worried about it doing damage to the Wand itself.” Lorena didn’t know if that was the total truth, but it was close enough without planting even more worry inside her daughter.

  “Go for it, then.”

  Lorena spent a minute or two moving the dials and switches of the Wand, adjusting and flipping and turning each one until she was satisfied that its power was at maximum and that it was locked onto Atticus’s last known nanolocator readings.

  She eyed Lisa. “This is it. If it doesn’t pull in that boy now, it never will. If you hear a loud buzz in your head or feel like your fingers might fall off, don’t be alarmed.”

  “Of course not.” The slightest roll of Lisa’s eyes made her look half bored and half amused, but Lorena knew that fear still lurked behind it all.

  “Want a countdown?”

  “Mom!”

  “Okay, okay. Here we go.” She reached for the button on the top of the Wand and pushed. The click was surprisingly loud, as if the entire forest and all its creatures had quieted at the same moment.

  Nothing happened. At first. Then a low hum seemed to rise up out of the ground, along with a vibration that tickled Lorena’s legs, made her shift and scratch at the underside of her thighs. The noise rose in volume and depth, like giant tuning forks and gongs had been struck, the sound ringing all around them. Lorena’s eardrums rattled, and a pain cinched its way down her spine.

  The world around them exploded into a swirl of gray mist and terrible, thunderous noise.

  Chapter 4

  Concerns

  Master George stood at the head of the table. He and the other Realitants were in the conference room of the Grand Canyon complex. George hadn’t sat down since the meeting began, and he didn’t know if he could. Sitting seemed like such a casual gesture, something done for rest and relaxation. How could he do that when the world—the worlds—were in such utter chaos?

  “Been runnin’ our lips for thirty minutes, we ’ave,” Mothball was saying. Her stern expression made George incredibly sad. She hadn’t smiled since Master Atticus had winked from existence. “And still not a flamin’ thing done. Need to make some decisions, we do.”

  “Darn tootin’ right,” Sally added, the burly lumberjack of a man also looking gruffer than usual. “Get dem plans a’yorn hoppin’ so we can quit gabbin’ at each other. I’m downright sick of these here chat-and-chews.”

  Now it was Rutger’s turn to speak up. “Look, you bunch of grumpy fusses—”

  “That’s enough,” George interrupted. He hadn’t needed to say it loudly or harshly. His little friend of so many years cut off and didn’t argue. “Thank you. Just let me think for a second.”

  He looked around the room at Sato, Paul, and Sofia—the only other Realitants in attendance. Those three looked like youngsters who’d been thrown into the horrors of life far too early. And like people who’d lost a dear friend. Both of which were true. They sat slumped over, staring at the table, their faces turned toward the ground.

  The other Realitants—people he’d worked with for countless years—couldn’t afford to come to the meeting. They had too many problems to deal with in their own areas of responsibility. For now, this small group was all George had.

  “Listen to me,” George finally said. “I know that Master Atticus is on all of our minds. His . . . loss has put us on edge, and I don’t believe we’ve said one nice thing to each other since he disappeared. But the world is in crisis, and we must meet our responsibilities. There are things we can do to help.”

  To say the world was in crisis was the understatement of the year. When Mistress Jane tried to sever the Fifth Reality with her new tool of dark matter, it had sent ripples of destruction throughout the universe, almost destroying it. Atticus seemed to have saved the day—or at least delayed the ultimate end—but the aftershocks were devastating.

  Tornadoes, earthquakes, fires. Everywhere. Millions of people dead. The governments of the world were desperately trying to keep things under control and reach out to the hungry and wounded scattered all over.

  Paul cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. But before he spoke, his expression melted into something full of misery, and he sank back into his seat. Sofia reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

  “Master Paul,” George began, but he found himself empty of words. He suddenly lost every ounce of leadership he’d ever had in his bones. Despair threatened to swallow him whole.

  Sato—who was usually rather quiet—suddenly shot to his feet and slammed a fist down on the table. “Snap out of it!” he yelled. “We all need to snap out of it! Quit moping around like babies and start acting like Realitants. If Tick were here, he’d be ashamed of us.” He sat down, but his eyes burned as he gazed at each Realitant around him in turn. “I’ve got an army. The Fifth will do whatever they’re asked. Just say the word, and we can get started.”

  George realized he was staring at the boy, transfixed. A spring of encouragement welled up inside him. “Thank you, Master Sato. I think we’d all agree that we needed that.”

  “Just make a decision. Do something. Or we’ll go crazy.”

  George nodded then straightened his posture, his strength returning. “You’re quite right, Sato. Quite right. Enough of our talk. Let’s go around the room and make assignments. It is indeed time to get to work. If something comes up that seems more important, then we’ll change those plans, but getting to work is our number one priority. Mothball, you first.”

  The giant of a lady looked as if a little bit of life had been breathed back into her as well. “Alright, then. I’ll start winkin’ me way from one end to the other—not just in Reality Prime but all of ’em. Start makin’ reports and such. We don’t know much, now do we? Not with the communications so bloomin’ shot.”

  “Excellent idea,” George said. “We need to determ
ine exactly what’s happening or we’ll never know what direction to take in the long run.”

  “Your middle name Danger all a sudden?” Sally cut in with his booming voice. “You plan to hightail it this way and that all by your lonesome, do ya? Not on my tickety-tock watch, you ain’t. I’ll go with Mothball.”

  George loved the idea. “Perfect. Plans settled for two of us. Rutger, I think we both know what you need to do.”

  The fat little ball of a man shifted in his seat. “Um, well, I’d be happy to go on an adventure with my fine two friends, but . . . I seemed to have sprained my . . . elbow. Yes, yes, it’s giving me quite the fits lately . . .”

  “Master Rutger, please.” George struggled to keep from laughing. “We all know very well that we need you here. Our instruments that survived the disasters have been reporting strange anomalies across the Realities. We need your keen researching mind devoted to solving that puzzle.”

  Visible relief washed over Rutger’s features, but he tried to hide it with his words. “Oh, well, I guess you’re right, then. Pity. I would’ve gladly risked further injury to my elbow to help Mothball and Sally.”

  “I have no doubt of it.”

  “Didn’t know you could even see your elbow,” Mothball muttered. “What with all that natural padding.”

  “Well, at least mine don’t jut out like pelican beaks!” Rutger countered. “Try gaining a pound or two so we quit thinking a skeleton rose up from the dead to scare the willies out of us.”

  “Well, I would, now wouldn’t I, if you bloody let us have a bite or two at supper before you gobbled it all down that fat neck of yours.”