Cassiopia stepped through the secondary mirror and immediately fell to her knees. The floor was moving. Rogers, more agile, fumbled and caught a handhold overhead. They looked back in time to see the SCIP mirror fade from view then panned around and tried to make sense of their surroundings. They were in the fuselage of an airplane. It was an olive green framework with no seats and an open, oval rear door. The wind was howling and disrupting everything inside. At the front, through the doorway to the pilot’s cabin, the pilot seats were empty. The aircraft was pitching and rolling. Cassiopia managed to climb to her feet, keeping her knees bent to avoid falling. She leaned against one wall and found a strap to hold.
Rogers shouted, “Where are we? Why are we here?”
Cassiopia looked around and shouted back, “It’s a C47, a Gooney-bird.”
“How do you know that?”
“They have one at the War Bird Museum in Titusville.”
“How can we be here? We’re in flight, and there’s no one onboard. They must’ve bailed out!” Rogers staggered back to the open rear door and then returned. “We’re thousands of feet up! There’s a beach down there and farmland.”
“We’ve got to go back,” yelled Cassiopia and she dug into her belt pack and managed to pull out the SCIP door control. Struggling to hold on, she flipped up the switch guard and hit the recall button. Nothing happened. Several more attempts produced the same result.
Rogers called out, “Uh-oh.”
“I know. It doesn’t seem to be working. The door hasn’t appeared.”
Rogers leaned closer. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Look….” She motioned in the direction of the windshield. A range of mountains had come into view. They were considerably higher than the aircraft’s altitude. Cassiopia stared and began hitting the button more rapidly.
“Do you know how to fly at all?” Rogers asked.
“No. I’ve never read about flying.”
“Well, the steering wheels are up there. Maybe we should try.”
Cassiopia tucked the control back in its place, and the two of them lurched and pulled their way forward. They took seats at the controls. Rogers grasped the wheel and tried to turn it. It would not budge. “Try yours,” she yelled.
Cassiopia fought with the control wheel to no avail. The mountain range was slowly growing larger.
“The gas lever,” cried Rogers, and she tried to push it forward or back. It would not move. “This must be why they bailed out.” Rogers looked through the door at the back of the aircraft. “Hey! There’s parachutes back there!”
Cassiopia withdrew her SCIP door control once more and began pushing the recall button frantically. Rogers left her seat and headed for the back. Reluctantly, Cassiopia followed, dismayed that the door refused to appear.
Rocking back and forth near the exit, Rogers dug through a pile of canvas satchels and parachutes.
“You’re crazy!” yelled Cassiopia as she joined her.
Rogers looked up worriedly. “What will happen if we hit those mountains?”
“There’s no way to be sure. The entire environment might change to something else, and we’d be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“What else might happen?”
“Well, we crash into the mountain, explode, and fall through the air on fire, but we still might be okay.”
“Would it hurt?”
“It could.”
“You’ve never gone skydiving, have you?”
“Are you crazy? No.”
“Neither have I, but I know these parachutes. They’re World War two era. My father had one as a souvenir.” Rogers paused to look forward at the approaching mountains. They were much closer. “We’d better put them on. I didn’t like the falling through the air on fire possibility.”
Cassiopia stood swaying with an expression of dismay. “Oh my god!”
“Come on; your legs go through here. I’ll help you then you help me.”
Cassiopia hammered on the SCIP door recall button as she worked her legs through the straps. Rogers pushed her arms through the two upper loops and turned Cassiopia to fasten the buckle at the front of the chest. “This ring here is the main chute. The one down here is the emergency. Count to three before you pull it or you could get caught on the plane.”
“Oh my god!”
“Come on, help me!” Cassiopia struggled to help Rogers get her chute on. With it strapped in place, Rogers turned and began searching the floor once more. She stood back up and held up two pairs of goggles. “You’ll need these. The wind is ferocious. Put them on. You’ve got to land with your knees bent and then roll with the landing.”
“Oh my god!”
Rogers positioned herself behind Cassiopia. She turned and looked. A single mountain peak now filled the windshield. It was a minute away.
“It’s now or never. Should we do it?”
“Oh my god!”
“We’ll hold hands. Come on. We’ll go out together. Keep your hand on the handle for the main chute.”
Rogers pulled her to the door. Far below, she could see only farmland. She jerked Cassiopia’s goggles down, put her right hand on the release, and then with one arm around her, leaped into the buffeting wind.
The wind exploded in Cassiopia’s face. Her hair whipped and tangled. She fell sideways, her legs running in a futile effort to escape the fall, and though she clung tightly to Rogers’ hand, the wind ripped them apart after only a second. She could not focus. The world was turning and looping in every direction. With her clothing snapping and slapping around her and the deafening sound of a hurricane in her ears, she yanked at the metal ring still held tightly in her hand. A fluttering sound came from behind. There was a loud pop and snap as she jerked harshly against the straps. The burning wind tapered off to a strong current against her face. The world came back into focus. Instinctively her hands found the parachute straps near her shoulders as she glided. Between her feet, the ground below looked like a frightening drop. She glanced up and searched the sky. Not far to her left, Rogers chute was open. Rogers waved and gave a thumb up, and pointed to something. Cassiopia looked in time to see the aircraft crash into the mountainside and explode into a ball of flame.
The earth below raced upward. There were fields and a town ahead. The ride became almost pleasant. Something disturbing caught her eye. Far below, on a road that ran along the coast, a line of tanks was moving in the direction of the town. There were troops following them, and more trucks behind the troops. The path they were soaring along would take them to an empty field just west of the town. There did not seem to be any commotion on the ground to indicate they had been seen. As the earth grew closer and details more defined, it looked like something unpleasant was going on in the town. People were running about as though they were threatened. Cassiopia looked over at Rogers. She was making an exaggerated motion of bending her knees. Cassiopia remembered her warning.
Suddenly the ground struck. She slammed down and fell to one side as the chute deflated on top of her. There was tall grass, shoulder high all around. She kicked and punched her way from beneath the silk, and stood to unbuckle the harness. She stepped out of it, let it fall, and turned to look for Rogers. A second later Rogers burst out of the grass, her parachute bundled up in her arms. She grabbed Cassiopia by the shoulder and dragged her down.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“In Dreamland, can you end up back in time somewhere?”
“Yes. We were in the Old West once.”
“Keep your voice down. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. We need to hide these chutes. There’s a forest between that town and us. We can stash them in the bushes. Have you tried the door control?”
Cassiopia unzipped her belt packed and drew it out. She opened the guard and hit the button. “It’s working!” She peered up above the grass, looked around and crouched back down. “I don’t see it, but I have a working left-right indicator, and
one distance LED is lit up. It’s toward the town.”
“Okay. Help me bundle up your chute and let’s get going. Remember to stay low. We do not want to be discovered.”
“What is it? What do you think?”
“I got a good look at the town on the way down. It’s a miracle we weren’t seen. I saw Germans rounding up townspeople. There was a Panzer division outside of town heading in. I think this is World War II.”
Cassiopia frowned. “Oh my. This may be my fault. I love history. I was just in a plane crash. I’ve probably caused this.”
“Don’t blame yourself just yet. Those parachutes were exactly like the souvenir my father owned.”
With silk bundled under their arms, they wove their way through the grass to the forest edge. A large patch of bushes nearby concealed the chutes and harnesses. Branches and leaves gathered from the ground completed the hiding place. The forest was thinly populated with tall, slender trees. Underbrush was everywhere, decorated by fallen branches and grass. The ground was uneven, a dry streambed running through it filled with leaves. Through the tree line, the neighboring township was visible. Somewhere to the left were the sounds of tanks moving through the town. Farther in the distance, repeated booms suggested a bombing was underway. There was a faint smell of gunpowder and something burning. Rogers and Cassiopia crept along until they were behind a broken down stone wall that bordered a two-story brick building near a busy street.
Rogers worked her control from her jean pocket and checked that it was operating. It showed the doorway was to their right. Of the ten LEDs on the distance indicator, only two were illuminated.
Cassiopia peered carefully over the wall. In the street, a group of civilians ushered along by men in black German uniforms had shackles on their hands. She crouched back down and looked at Rogers.
“Now what?” she whispered.
“We make our way along until we get to the door.”
“Okay.”
“So these soldiers are not real people, right?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“And they can’t actually kill us?”
“Not that we know of.”
“But they could possibly hurt us?”
“Under the right circumstances, yes.”
“Can you be a little more vague?”
“I’m sorry. It’s the world of dreams. Whatever can happen to you in a dream, can happen here.”
“So let’s just be real quiet-like, and avoid all that.”
“Yeah.”
When the coast looked clear, Rogers vaulted the stonewall, kept low, and took refuge against the back of the building. Cassiopia watched and then followed. With her back against the wall, Rogers moved along and carefully looked around the corner at the street and neighboring buildings. The road was cobblestone with trolley tracks running down the center. The buildings were large and small bricks, with arching windows and doors. Most of the rooftops were flat, though one had a pointed tile peak with several chimneys coming out of it. A red-striped tarp hung down in front of the gray-brick building directly across the street. There were curbs but no sidewalks.
Without looking back, Rogers motioned to Cassiopia and darted behind the next building. After a quick check, Cassiopia followed. A wooden fence attached to the building now blocked their path. Pointing two fingers at her eyes, Rogers motioned to Cassiopia to keep an eye out, then wrestled a nearby garbage barrel into place. She tipped it over, spilling the contents, and climbed atop it to look over. The way was clear. She waved at Cassiopia and vaulted over, landing as quietly as possible on the other side. With somewhat less agility, Cassiopia joined her.
At the next corner, the situation became difficult. The street opened to a large courtyard. Columns of German soldiers stood in assembly at various points around it. Some were marching away, other just arriving. Smoke was rising from a few of the chimneys. People were entering and exiting the buildings around the courtyard. German flags hung in some windows. The biggest problem was at the very center of the courtyard. There, stood a large, dry fountain with a statue of a French president overlooking the square. Below it stood the SCIP mirror, alive and shining. Rogers and Cassiopia looked away and stood against the wall.
Rogers lamented, “Well, we’re screwed.”
Cassiopia replied, “No, we’re not.”
Rogers looked at her indignantly. “What do you mean? Two steps out in the open and we’ll probably end up standing just like this in front of a firing squad!”
Cassiopia shook her head. “No, this is a staging area. They have troops leaving and arriving. It’s about fifty yards to the mirror. All we have to do is walk that fifty yards and we’re out of here.”
“You mean without being shot at…?”
“Those troops out there mean there are barracks and officer’s quarters set up. All we need is two uniforms and we can just stroll right across before anyone even notices.”
“Not bad, for a civilian. You first or me?”
Cassiopia leaned against Rogers and dared a look around the corner. There was a side entrance to the next building. With a double check, she stepped out and moved along, keeping close to the wall. Reaching the door, she found it unlocked. She cracked it open and peered inside. It was a deserted hallway. She slipped inside with Rogers close behind.
The hallway’s torn brown wallpaper and dirty wooden floor looked unused. It offered three doors on each side and ended in stairs going up. They cautiously searched each of the rooms but found only overturned furniture and destruction. The last room on the left had front and side windows. Staying out of sight, they searched through the dirty windowpanes for a prospective building. The one next door looked promising. An officer in a black uniform strolled out the front and struck a match on his boot heel. He lit a cigarette, stood smoking and admiring the assembly, then stepped it out and left.
Across the hall, they found a door in an adjacent office that opened between buildings. An entrance to the officer’s building was almost directly across. Rogers held up one finger, looked carefully around and dashed across. She disappeared within and then returned to wave Cassiopia on. Inside, a map room, neatly arranged, was unoccupied. A short hallway opened to a larger chamber with a blackboard, tables, and chairs. Empty wine bottles were everywhere. A smaller office on the left was an operations area with a desk near shelves with rolled up documents, ribbed-back chairs, and a large closet with the doors missing. A full bottle of wine stood on a tray on the corner of the desk, with four glasses waiting to be filled. Within the closet were the items they were hoping for. A half a dozen officers’ uniforms freshly pressed hung there.
Without speaking Cassiopia began to strip. Rogers kicked off her sneakers and pushed her jeans down and off. She leaned against the desk to get the last pant leg and as she straightened up, someone coughing startled her.
Before she could move, a German officer charged briskly into the room without looking up. He tossed his hat onto a hat stand by the wall and turned to find Cassiopia in only her bra and panties, and Rogers in only a shirt and panties. He froze. A moment of startled silence passed. Rogers laughed, casually pushed up into a sitting position on the desk and undid the top button on her blouse, smiling at the officer and wetting her lips. She uncorked the bottle of wine and took a drink from it, continuing to smile as she reached for the second button on her blouse. The officer relaxed and smiled a broad, devious smile. Rogers looked casually back at wide-eyed Cassiopia and gestured to the officer that she was his to take.
The man strolled over, still smiling, grabbed the bottle and took a long drink. Staring intently at Cassiopia, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, handed the bottle back, and headed toward her. Without the slightest hesitation, Rogers twisted around and smashed the bottle over his head. He wavered, eyes glazed, the smile still locked on his face, and crumpled to the floor.
Cassiopia stared in disbelief. “You broke the bottle on his head!”
Rogers wondered if she had erred. “Shhhhh??
? Well, he’s not a real person, right?”
“Well, yes, but still.”
“Hurry up and get dressed!”
“Okay, okay, you’re right.”
They scrambled into the uniforms and put their own shoes back on. Cassiopia’s uniform was too large. She rolled up the pants and sleeves as best she could, and tucked her hair under the hat. Roger’s uniform fit better, but her tennis shoes stood out. She pulled the boots off the unconscious man and slipped them on.
At the front of the building, they watched from a window for their best chance. Fearing their stilted lover would awake in the other room, they finally decided to try. They stepped out onto the porch, trying to appear casual. At that moment, a car with VIP flags came racing around the far side of the square. Two angry men in gray uniforms jumped out carrying two white parachutes. They interrupted an officer yelling commands to a unit, and a loud argument broke out. Hoping it would be enough distraction, Cassiopia and Rogers began their fifty-yard walk, staying close together, backs straight, almost in step.
The argument grew more heated. One of the men threw a parachute down on the ground, pointed at it as he yelled, and paced around nervously. Hands on his hips, he looked around the square, tapping one foot angrily. Three-quarters of the way to the fountain, he noticed Cassiopia and Rogers but thought nothing of it. As they neared the fountain and the mirror, he seemed to have second thoughts and turned back to stare.
At the wall of the fountain, Rogers stopped and let Cassiopia lead. She stepped up onto the wall and into the dry fountain. The German officers became alerted. The one who had been staring yelled out a harsh order to halt. Cassiopia took a quick last glance and stepped through the mirror-door. Rogers entered the fountain and took a position in front of the mirror. The German unholstered his Lugar and took aim. Rogers turned, gave him her middle finger, and stepped through the mirror as the shot rang out behind her.
Chapter 15