The Spatial Shard

She had not been unconscious, but Imogene still felt like she was just waking up. The trip through the Gateway was beyond reason. As soon as she crossed over the threshold, she could see, hear and feel a thousand Imogenes crossing over their thresholds in the very same manner. She looked to her left, her right, above, below, in front and behind. All she could see were orbs of light traveling at fantastic speeds and in each one, she could only make out one figure: herself.

There were subtle differences in each of them; one had longer hair and it was still blonde, another was fond of body art and piercings. They had different looks and different opinions of what was happening to them. But each Imogene shared two things: each one was a living Shard, though they did not share the same level of connection or power with their internal entity. One particular replica looked like she had a newborn star in her chest and the brightest smile on her face as she raced through her Gateway. She was the only other Imogene that looked around and saw Genie. The replica nodded and saluted, flashing the ‘I love you’ sign before she sped ahead of all the other Imogenes.

Genie smiled as she shifted her focus to the far side of the Minor Hub, and she knew she had to think clearly about where she wanted to go and bring the others along with her.

“Where are you going?” a calm, deep, male voice inquired. It seemed to be coming from inside the orb and Imogene quickly remembered the first time she had heard it. She looked to see if anyone else could hear it. But something had subtly changed; the lights no longer streaked by, but they were all still moving. It just appeared they were not really getting anywhere, as their points of origin and destination seemed to move with them. All Imogene could see were frozen bodies, warped by the power and speed of the orb in which they now traveled. They were ignorant of this instant, and Imogene wondered why she was not affected like them.

“Because you are a Shard now, Genie,” the Shard answered. “You can see things as I do, from time to time. The stronger you get, the more aware you will be. But you might find it interesting to answer the voice that is speaking to you.”

“Going? Where am I going?” Imogene asked as she tried to find a destination, a name, something that would make sense.

“That is what I asked you,” the voice clarified. “And are you omniscient?”

“No,” she answered, confused by the question.

“Then why must it make sense to you for it to make sense?”

“It… it… it doesn’t, does it?” Imogene said softly as she smiled and relaxed. She noticed that the orb seemed to pick up speed. Imogene brought her hand back to her side and closed her eyes. She did not need her hands anymore. She just needed the feel! The energy of the portalway caressed against the orb and Imogene dispersed it as she started to spin. The wind was cool on her face and the energy of the portalway was warm and flowed through her.

“I’m going to the other side of the Nexus,” Imogene answered in a soft whisper. “From there, I don’t know. Where are you going?”

“I am there already, Shard.”

“The name’s Imogene,” she replied, still relaxed and very much enjoying the transit.

“And I am Aaeon,” the voice said and Imogene felt as if she was a small fish swimming between the fingers of a very large hand. There was no need to be afraid, she could do nothing about the hand or its interest in her.

“No sense fighting the wave, right, Mom?” she thought as she spun inside of his palm.

“You can never beat the ocean, Genie,” Eleanor said. She was always saying something like that. “It is our bridge to the universe and fighting it cuts us off from eternity. I’ll see you soon, baby. Look after your brother.”

“No worries, Mom,” Imogene giggled.

One of the gigantic fingertips touched her back and sent energy into her spine. Every nerve in her body was given a very slight shake and her entire being was brought into awareness of Aaeon. She gasped as the embodiment of time and space decided to take a form and shape to which she could respond. In the moment of the realization, Imogene knew it was aware of what she was thinking.

“Ah, close, but not quite,” it said, touching her again and again her body shuddered. “You have always had the ability to respond, but now you know your response is received. Before you had to take such things on faith.

“Are you God?”

“Even I have a beginning,” Aaeon replied. “I, too, was created. Perhaps we share the same creator.”

“Safe answer,” Imogene said, smiling brightly.

“I am sorry.”

“I know,” Imogene replied, caressing the hand that held her with her thoughts and feelings. “There is much you want to say and even more you want to do, but you can’t. You are balance, and it’s only here, when I am between worlds, between realities, that we can speak.

“Check that,” Imogene said as she opened her eyes and looked up into the face of a creature that looked a great deal like a gold-skinned Timothy Schultz. “I can always talk to you. I just need to learn how to listen to get your responses!”

“Ride the wave, Imogene,” it replied, smiling down on her. “I will always be there!”

“Make a girl wannabe a surf junkie then!” she joked.

“Is that the only wave you see?”

Pictures flashed in Imogene’s mind. From the surfing and Capoeira lessons, to the death bed of her mother, to the moment when her father told his children they had to leave the country, to their first days in Bolivia, to her first portalway – they were all waves she had refused to ride because she had not seen them. Happiness was not the only wave she could ride. Dealing with the grief of life had to be as important as dealing with the moments that had been considered bliss. There was a balance she had missed and moments of clarity she turned her back on because she chose to be selfish, she chose to be cut off.

“You must go now, my little Courier,” it said as the image of its form started to fade.

“Courier?”

“Sometimes even those who are dedicated to balance are allowed to cheat.”

Imogene closed her eyes and descended into the tunnel, rejoining her family. They were still moving very, very slowly and unaware of everything that had just happened to her. “I would say far out,” she whispered, “…but not only is that so last millennia, it is so too short a distance!”

“And as for you,” Imogene thought, closing her eyes and returning to the free-floating area that was the inner mind of the Spatial Shard. “I can’t just call you Shard anymore. Especially since that is what everyone is calling me.”

“Including myself,” the Shard added.

“Exactly!” Imogene exclaimed. “It’s only going to get more confusing. So, do you have a preference?”

“I am most anxious to hear what you have come up with, Shard.”

“Cute,” Imogene replied. “You need to call me Genie and I will call you… Nollie.”

“Isn’t that surfer linguistics for awesome?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t already know the answer, Nol,” Imogene answered. “Do you like it?”

“I have to admit that I do,” Nollie said.

“Good, it’s settled then. And you need to speak up when you feel the need. Don’t wait until my life is on the line.”

“Yes, about that,” Nollie started.

“Forget it,” Imogene said as she removed herself from the state of mind. “We all get scared and if you’re in me, you can’t help but feel what I feel. I was really scared.”

“But you only did what I suggested,” Nollie argued.

“And if I’d done it sooner, he might not have had a shot to take,” Imogene said, refusing to let go of her argument. “Don’t sweat it, Nollie. You and I have a lot of sets ahead of us. At least, I’d like to think so.”

“That is a sentiment we share,” Nollie thought so that its new friend could hear, but it then closed its mind off from the living Shard. “Indeed, Courier!”

Imogene opened her eyes in time to see their trip through the Nexus. She could hear Gordon screaming at the top of his lungs. She looked over and saw her little brother enjoying himself, looking completely fearless and full of hope.

She looked to Sharon and found her best friend’s concern was with Imogene herself. Sharon mouthed ‘are you okay’ and Imogene replied with a very bright smile and Sharon nodded, allowing a slight grin to form on her face.

Timothy Schultz was hanging on for all he was worth. This was not a trip for the old of mind. Timothy was a man who was comforted by math; these were new numbers and his mind did not know where to begin to formulate an equation. He held on tightly to Wilma who was still unconscious, but no longer looked like she was dying.

As for Wayne, he rivaled Imogene’s sense of ease and balance. He was still blind, but he was very much enjoying the sensation of his body being propelled through the air. He knew he could not steer his body, so he allowed it to roll and tumble any way he felt it wanted; all the time he smiled and sighed. For Wayne, Imogene did not want the experience to end.

As they passed through another Gateway, Imogene thought it best to slow down. She could not explain how she knew they were coming to their destination, but she did not want to delve too deeply into the matter for fear she would run smack into a tree while looking for a forest. The stretched, warping sensation stopped as they slowed from being a pulse of light to free-floating bodies in the tunnel way.

“And by the way,” Nollie said softly, “sorry!”

“Sorry for wh-”

Wilma’s body began to glow, surrounded almost instantly by a burnt-orange light that nearly blinded everyone and pushed Timothy away from the unconscious woman. Before anyone could say anything, she was gone!

Then everything stopped and once again Imogene’s knees bent slightly. She closed her eyes as she now realized why Nollie had apologized; everyone had forgotten to link up with Imogene. It was a clearing of a sort. Soft earth with only patches of grass growing in between ten meter high stacks of twisted metal and other assorted materials. The only thing they seemed to share is that they all appeared to be used and discarded. Dust blew out in a circular pattern as before, but on this occasion there was debris light enough to be carried by the wind. Small placards of a plastic-like material, crumpled pages of paper and small bits of metal completed the cornucopia of flying garbage.

Again Gordon adjusted quickly and went into flips to land on his feet, but his path crossed with Wayne’s and the two of them fell hard and rolled. Timothy flew straight back from his daughter. It seemed the effect of her landing was more powerful than before. He wailed as he flew through the air, powerless to do anything save prepare for the pain.

“Easy now, hmmm” a voice said. A man was there, extending his hand and targeting those in peril. A silvery blue beam shot from his hand and enveloped Timothy’s body, stopping him just centimeters shy of a wall. Three other beams shot out from the man’s hand and caught Wayne, Gordon and Sharon. Their bodies were carried gently over to Imogene and placed carefully back on the ground. “There we are, all safe and sound.”

Imogene looked at the man who stood nearly one and three-quarter meters tall and was slightly round of frame. Not fat at all, but ‘well-lived’ as Imogene’s mother would say. He wore his long, thin, gray hair in five sections separated by bald scalp; each strip had been combed back into a long ponytail. But it was his eyes that drew Imogene’s attention. They were the sharpest aqua-green Imogene had ever seen and were very much in contrast to his dull gray skin. He looked over each of the persons he had caught and saved before he fixed his gaze on Imogene.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“No kidding!” Gordon exclaimed. “How did you do that?”

“Oh, that was just a little PEP, hmmm?” he said with a smile. He could tell by the looks he received that he was not fully understood, so the man lifted the same arm and let the sleeve fall down to reveal some sort of machine strapped to his forearm. “A P.E.P.,” he continued. “A Personal Energy Projector. Of course, these days, the power cell is usually strapped to the back. But I’m not looking for a military occupation, just something to scare off the pests.

“Or,” the man said as he turned and began walking away, “… catching free-fallers, as it were.”

“That was sick!” Gordon sighed.

“Sir, thank you,” Timothy said, walking to catch up with the man. He was not yet into his third stride when he was stopped by a solid surface. It was a wall that only became visible when he walked into it. A sharp flash of yellow light and sparks, and Timothy was on his back.

“Careful, that’s a holding field,” the man said as he continued to walk away. “The Inforcers will be here for you shortly.”

“Enforcers?!” Sharon said as she started to walk around, her hands in front of her.

“No, Inforcers,” the man replied. “What else do you do with a two-legged rat, hmmm?” Sharon found the dimensions of their prison and started to press against the walls. Only when she gave serious effort did the wall shock her and throw her back.

“Are you okay?’ Wayne asked as Sharon got up quickly.

“I’m good,” Sharon answered. “Walls don’t like to be touched though. I can’t believe he called the cops on us!”

“It was your entry that summoned them,” the man said, stopping to look at Imogene again. “Careless entry. All the bells and whistles one could dare to hope for. Looking to impress? Typical youth! Arrogance and ineptitude.”

“I apologize, I was trying to help a friend!” Imogene said quickly. “I don’t know where she went, but she was dying and I thought that bringing her here might save her life.”

“And so, you thought to use my business for your landing pad, hmmm?” the man asked, his tone was sharper. “You don’t assume too much, do you? And waking me up from a very good nap, I might add. Not many of those around these days.”

“Sir, I am sorry. The truth is that I don’t know what I’m doing. Not fully.”

The man stood there, stuffed his hands into his pockets and sucked his teeth. “This friend, describe her.”

“Well, she was-”

“Hold on there, where’s your badge?” Sharon barked.

“Sharon!” Imogene tried to get her friend to be quiet.

“No, no, no,” Sharon insisted. “We’ve told this throw-back to punk rock all he needs to know. It’s not like you were aiming to land here in this…” Sharon looked around and it was a cue for everyone else who had not yet taken the time to do so. There were stacks and stacks of old, discarded chassis. Twisted metal bodies heaped one on top of the other. “… junk pile!”

“That does it!” the man said, pressing a button on his belt. The walls of the holding field flashed again and disappeared. “Those are fighting words!”

“Then get your walker and your will, old man!” Sharon snapped. “Because where I come from, people say ‘you’re welcome’ when they receive a ‘thank you’ and they also accept apologies.

“Now my friend is bending over backwards,” Sharon continued, tightening the sheet she was wearing. “…because we’re strangers in a strange place, and there’s no need to go showing your butt when you’re trying to make a good first impression. But you seem to be more fixed on complaining than understanding, so something’s obviously loose upstairs.”

“And you’re going to knock it back into place?” the man said grinning, his hands still in his pockets.

“I aim to try!” Sharon answered.

“No, no she doesn’t,” Timothy said, finally getting back up. “There will be no fighting!” Timothy cast his eyes on Sharon and only after a few moments did she step back and turn away from the strange man.

“Ahh, so you’re in charge, hmmm?” the man said, pointing at Timothy.

“I am responsible for these children, yes.”

“Then you can pay me for the transport you demolished,” the man said pointing at a heap parked behind them. “That was a perfectly functional hover car, until you people came along.”

“Somebody shoot me, please!” Sharon moaned.

“Sharon, you’re not helping,” Timothy said softly.

“That thing was a wreck before I was born!” Sharon argued.

“Sharon Diana Thaxton!” Timothy snapped. “Am I getting back talk out of you?”

“No, sir,” Sharon said quickly.

“Ho-boy, that was nifty!” the man chuckled. “So this brash puppet has strings, does she, hmmm?” Imogene put her hand on Sharon’s arm and patted it. The young girl could have drilled a hole into the man with her brown eyes, but she was more willing to acquiesce than she was angry at the older man’s verbal scorning.

“Interesting,” the man said softly as he took out his pipe. He looked at Timothy and shook his head. “You… you should think about going back. Your daughter has a tighter hold of the feisty one than you do, and I’m not sure we have time for you to get your head around where you are.” Using his PEP, the man lit his pipe and smoked it, blowing out yellow smoke.

“What is he smoking?” Imogene thought. “Sulfur?”

“I think I will stay, just the same,” Timothy answered, turning to face his daughter. “Unless you’re ready to go back home. There’s going to be a lot of explanations to make as it is.”

“Not to mention Inforcers are coming for us,” Wayne reminded everyone.

“No, they’re not,” Imogene said, looking at the man. She could not get over the feeling that they were not in any danger. She did not feel safe, she knew better than that. But she felt very much protected. “Why would you say that if it wasn’t true?”

“Are you calling me a liar?” the man said, lowering his pipe from his mouth.

“You are whatever you need to be,” Imogene answered, hearing echoes of Nollie’s voice inside her own. She started to approach.

“Genie,” Sharon called out. Imogene lifted her hand as if to tell everyone else to stay put. Her hand went up at the same speed Wayne’s came down, taking hold of Sharon’s shoulder.

“I’m okay. I am very much okay, aren’t I?” she asked, walking up to the man and offering her hand. “I’m Imogene.”

“Rannis,” he said, shaking her hand. The face of anger quickly turned into a smile and a soft chuckle. “Learning to trust your feelings more, I see,” he said.

“How do I know you?” Imogene asked.

“You don’t. I know… Nollie, I believe you call her,” Rannis answered. “She brought you here. She always comes here whenever she feels threatened or unsure.”

“Who is Nollie?” Sharon asked.

“Hmmm, seems you’ve got a bit of updating you need to do.” Rannis said, turning to walk. “Wait right here, I’ll get some chairs. Perhaps some refreshment as well.”

“What is going on?” Timothy asked.

“He was testing me… or testing the two of us,” Imogene said, confident of her words. “It’s a long story, but it looks like we’re going to get all the time we need.”

“So, now we’re all caught up,” Imogene said as she sipped from the tall glass Rannis had given her. “This blue milk is pretty good! Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” Rannis replied, pouring a third glass for Wayne. He seemed to be quite pleased serving the youths. But even as he offered everyone clothes, he knew Sharon did not trust him. He kept his pleasure in that from everyone. Some things they simply were not yet ready to experience.

“Hmmm, it is about time,” he thought as he smoked his pipe.

“Hey!” Wayne said, putting his glass down. “Does anyone else hear that?”

“We’ve heard that before,” Sharon said, getting up. Instantly her sheet disappeared, replaced with the clothing Rannis had given her. She looked at the apparel long enough to verify everything of import was covered and then looked up into the black sky.

“Somebody hit me really hard,” Sharon said. “That’s not a sky!”

“What are you talking about?” Gordon asked, looking up. “Uh oh!”

“This can’t be,” Timothy gasped as they all looked up.

“Oh, that,” Rannis said, looking at Wayne. “That’s the under side of Zweit Pointe. It hovers over Undertown… that’s where you are, you know… Undertown, hmmm!

“Bump that!” Wayne yelled as he moved toward Gordon. “Everybody get down!”

“Nice reflexes,” Rannis whispered as Wayne tackled Gordon to the ground. Everyone else was falling out of their chairs to the ground as the craft sped by just overhead. “Had that been an attack, perhaps only the adult might have been struck. He’s too slow for this!”

“What was that thing?” Wayne cried out.

“Some kind of flying model airplane,” Sharon, the first to stand, replied. She took hold of the back of the chair and Rannis smiled.

“Do you wish to be a mistress or a slave?” he asked. “There is no middle ground, no matter what you might think. You must choose one.”

“I’m nobody’s slave!” Sharon said defiantly.

“Care to take that up with yourself, hmmm?” Rannis pressed. “You think it takes chains and shackles to be a slave? You’re a slave to your fears at this very moment. Not even sure what ‘that thing’ is but you’re ready to strike, because it struck first, didn’t it?”

Sharon looked at Rannis for a moment and then back up. She thought about what he was saying and his particular choice of words struck deeply. “But if I put the chair down, I’m not ready to defend.”

“Then be prepared to defend, not strike,” Rannis explained. “There is a difference. Not every person who draws a weapon does so to attack.” Sharon’s stance relaxed some and she brought the chair closer to her body. “Very good!” Rannis approved as he stood up.

“Besides,” he said, cleaning out his pipe, “… from the sounds of those engines, that ‘thing’ is not from here. This ‘thing’ you brought with you.”

“The hospital!” Gordon realized. “That was the light outside the window.”

Imogene Schultz located. Delivery of Reservation Program initiated.

“Is it talking?” Imogene asked.

“Not in a tongue you can understand,” Rannis said. “Which is somewhat odd! It seems that this thing is from both sides of the Nexus.” A small door near the center of the belly opened and projected an image in front of Imogene.

“Hiram?” Rannis said, filled with curiosity.

“Hello, Imogene, my name is Hiram Seaver,” the recorded voice began. “I would not presume to call you Genie as you might prefer, since we do not know each other. But I am sending this… Longshot to help you. In the past few days, the world has been turned upside down and inside out… and that was before you left Bolivia.”

“You got that right!” Timothy agreed.

“Right now you’re in the possession of something that defies description. As crazy as it might sound, go with it! You’re going to start feeling and thinking differently. Don’t assume it is not you… it’s just another side of you waking up. You might find yourself dreaming of a place that would make Isaac Asimov cringe with envy. That is not a dream. It is a memory. It could be one of mine, it could be from another user of the Shard.

“You see, Imogene, there are gives and takes with the Shard. One of the gives is that anything the Shard remembers, you can access. And these will not be just memories. They will be experiences that you will feel with every sense engaged. Unfortunately, that is also one of the takes. Most of the former users of the Shard are no longer with us. But there are four that are still alive and anyone who has ever used the Shard is forever attuned to it.

“One of the users is me, but you’ve got nothing to worry about from me. I might ask to hitch a ride back to that special place and stay there, but otherwise, I am done with my Nexus-jumping.

“After that comes Samantha Vey,” Hiram said as the projection shifted to show her picture. “Do not, I repeat, do not let the smooth curves and gentle voice fool you.”

“As they both fooled you, hmmm?” Rannis said under his breath.

“She is ruthless and perhaps the most methodical of all the living users. Now I won’t lie, she wants the Shard back, because she’s got business contacts that have helped her develop her weapons design empire and after a few minutes there you’ll come to find out how she was able to come up with leading-edge material. She has a corporation and a shocking number of government agency contacts backing her up, so she’s no lightweight, but she’s not the one I want to warn you the most about. I won’t beat around the bush. The one who I think is the most dangerous to your life and the Shard is-”

“My brother Solomon,” Imogene said before the recording could say the name. Rannis noticed, as did Wayne.

As Hiram began to describe his brother, Imogene’s face displayed that she knew everything that Hiram was about to say and there was a bit of resentment as well. Rannis knew that was not Imogene’s genuine reaction. It had to be Solomon’s. Rannis was glad that the man was on the other side of the Nexus with the crimes he had committed. But there was something else that drew the old one’s attention; the machine was thinking. Not an uncommon occurrence on this side of the Nexus, but there was a great deal behind the thought… a great deal that felt alive! There was also a sense of urgency as the power reserves on the machine were running low.

How do I live life? It was pondering.

“A question for the ages,” Rannis projected. “Age and wisdom may suggest answers. But in the end, I believe each life generates its own answer to that question. Such is the beginnings of choice, the true measure of awareness.”

As the playback continued, the circuits bridged with Rannis to share thoughts more quickly. When the bridge was made, Rannis gasped and nearly fell down. There was much he had wanted to happen with the coming of the living Shard, but this was something he was not expecting.

“By the giving and growing word!” Rannis thought. His hand reached out and his PEP fired another beam that brought a computer bank to him.

“It is not much,” Rannis explained to the construct. “But it is a means by which to continue until you can make a choice.”

Delivery not yet complete. It reminded Rannis and he nodded, acknowledging its choice.

“The last one on the list is no parade either,” Hiram continued. “His name is Rannis Etim, and you won’t see him until you go to the other side of the Nexus. He may come across like a Yoda, but he’s a Boba Fett, believe me! He will try to take the Shard away from you.”

“Let me guess,” Sharon said, looking at Rannis. “Another slave?”

“Indeed,” he answered. “A fear of inadequacy that I am afraid he, through his chosen actions, substantiated without room for argument.”

Rannis’ brow lowered as he glared at Sharon and then at each of the children in turn. What had he stumbled upon? He had all but activated his PEP to generate a protective shield.

“Now if you go to the other side of the Nexus, getting back might be problematic. While you can take off from anywhere on Earth, over there, they can actually regulate energies, and the ones that allow for interdimensional travel are perhaps the most highly policed. They charge by the door and by the number of passengers.”

“That is not good news!” Timothy said as he fell back into his seat.

“Now, along with this probe I’ve built,” Hiram explained, “… you will find an ID card. Attached to that card is an account. They don’t use dollars over there. They’re called credits and the more you have, the better off you will be. I’ve got over 5,000 in the account, but don’t go jumping for joy, portalway clearance is very expensive and the market is fluid.

“Well, that’s about it. I could tell you where to go to get some money, but I think you’re too young to be in those kinds of places.”

“Another statement of fear,” Rannis remarked.

“That about does it,” Hiram concluded as the craft settled down to the ground. “This vehicle is powering down its engines and you may be able to scrap some pieces for extra cash. Most of the design you won’t get much for, but the battery and the motherboard are prime Pointe-side technology, so don’t let anyone tell you they’re crap! Take care of yourself, Imogene.”

The lights powered down and the program jumped to the bank Rannis had provided. It was not much, but it was fully powered again and with that, it was happy… he was happy!

“Yes,” Rannis thought, “this is definitely more like it!”