Chapter Two:
The wake-up horn sounded at an ungodly hour the next morning. Marie flinched under her covers as it blew, covering her ears. Curses and moans filled the tent. Marie slid even further into her bedroll, her ears ringing. Cold air rushed inside, and someone barked, “All right, ladies—UP!”
“Damn Pamela,” muttered the woman next to Marie.
Marie blinked open her eyes. Shivering, she sat up and glanced around. Someone had turned on a small lamp, and Marie noticed with relief that several other women looked as dazed and as tired as she felt. Across the tent from her, a short Indian woman was still curled up in her sleeping bag, her face half-hidden under her pillow.
Seeing her, a woman with golden curls moaned, “I am so jealous. I wish I could sleep through Pamela.”
“I’m not sleeping,” muttered the woman grumpily. “I’m ignoring.”
The blonde grinned. “Well, in that case, you better be careful. Sleeping will get you a citation. Ignoring will get you fired.”
The woman opened her eyes. “No it won’t. It’s too expensive to beam me back home.” She stretched languorously. “That’s the great thing about this place. Job security.”
The blonde opened her mouth, but the barking voice reverberated through the tent again. “I mean it, ladies—UP!”
Marie rolled out of her bedroll, her head pounding from waking from such a deep sleep. With numb fingers she opened her backpack and dressed. Noticing the other women rolling up their sleeping bags, Marie did the same.
“What do I do with this?” she asked hoarsely, glancing at the woman next to her.
“Place it in roller 12. Then come back and help take down the tent.”
Marie briefly wondered what a roller was, but she saw it as soon as she stepped outside. She stopped and stared. She had heard rumors that SpiritStar had invented a few new modes of transportation for the expedition, but that possibility had never really registered with her until now. The thing before her was a hollow iron tube, with enough space inside it for the tent and sleeping bags. It stood on high wheels, but Marie could see several long spindly things for rougher terrain tucked beneath it; stretched out, she imagined they would look a lot like spider legs. On the roller’s side, someone had stamped the number 12 in curly gold letters.
An older woman with red hair saw Marie’s surprised look and smiled. She tilted her head toward the opening of the contraption’s storage compartment. “Put your sleeping bag inside, sweetie.”
Marie did as she was told and marveled at the machine for a few minutes, running her hands over its side before finally glancing back. Someone had tossed her backpack out onto the grass, and now all the women were working on disassembling the tent. An Asian woman removed a pole from the canvas and flung it aside, while beside her the woman with curly blond hair pulled stakes out of the ground. Marie watched them, her cheeks reddening. She had no idea what they were doing. Why hadn’t she received any training again? That plan became stupider with each hour she spent Across.
A hand landed on her arm. Marie glanced up at the redheaded woman, who smiled sympathetically. Her eyes were kind.
“You didn’t go through training, did you?”
Marie shook her head, and the woman nodded, as if expecting her response. “Well, for now just take those poles over there and place them in that bag. Then come back to me, and I’ll try to explain things.”
Marie scampered away.
After the tent had been disassembled and tucked into the roller, the woman approached her again.
“So—Marie Nettleson, the Citizen.”
Marie made a face. “That’s what I’ve been told they’re calling me.”
The woman grinned. “Don’t knock it, sweetheart. I know of worse nicknames.” She held out her hand for Marie to shake. “I’m Cristaña Ware, the Team 12 leader—which is your team, in case no one told you.”
“No one did.”
Cristaña didn’t look surprised. “Well, now you know. The teams are groups of ten people, each of which—obviously—has a leader. Each team leader reports to a section leader, who reports to Barnabas Morton. Our section leader is Pamela Holbech, the lovely lady who woke everyone up this morning.”
“Holbech?” Marie repeated, surprised.
“Yeah,” Cristaña grimaced. “That’s right. The same Holbech as Darius Holbech. They’re brother and sister. I trust you’ve heard of him?”
Marie nodded. Of course. Darius Holbech was second-in-command of the expedition and specifically in charge of all SpiritStar employees. She had met him once, not long before coming Across. He had looked at her and sneered, “This is her?”
Seeing the sour look on Marie’s face, Cristaña laughed. “I see he must have charmed you as well. I trust you know who the head of the expedition is?”
“Barnabas Morton.” Marie knew he worked for the government, but he had been Across for over a month now, so she hadn’t met him yet.
“Glad to hear they told you something before sending you Across.”
Marie opened her mouth to reply, but a whistle blew sharply nearby, and both she and Cristaña whirled around.
Marie glanced questioningly at Cristaña.
“That’s the fifteen minute warning bell,” Cristaña explained quickly. “If I were you, I’d grab my bag and run over to get a quick breakfast. They should still be serving it. Then come straight back here. We’re marching.”
It took only another twenty minutes for all four hundred people on the expedition to pack, eat, and be ready to go, so Marie didn’t have time to sit down and enjoy her meal. By the time she got to the mess hall, half the campsite was already packed away. She decided to just grab some bread and water to go, which she downed as she raced back to the team. Cristaña had told her that teams always traveled together to ensure no one got lost. Everyone had to be with their team before the expedition headed off.
As soon as they started marching, Cristaña introduced her to everyone. Havily Taite, Marie found out, was the woman who had cursed Pamela that morning. She was a tall, strong-looking woman with honey-colored eyes that looked too big for her narrow face. She nodded once at Marie before returning her attention to gulping down her breakfast. Next to Havily strode Ranjana Singh, a short Indian woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue. Three women in SpiritStar garb huddled together talking, and Cristaña introduced them as Jaime Hart, Hamako Adachi, and Bryce Vibbard. They were, Cristaña explained, part of a large, specialized team in charge of making sure the Earth-communication device worked properly.—“A very important job,” Jennifer later told her. The last three team members included Tiffany Claget, the golden-haired nurse, who eyed Marie curiously before someone approached her to ask a question, Valeria Hawking, an equipment specialist, and Mabel Cutting, a woman Marie suspected was small enough to legally qualify as a dwarf.
“She’s a botanist,” Cristaña told her, “and she specializes in poisons. She’s here to make sure none of the local flora kills us, so don’t get on her wrong side, or she just may slip you something that will.”
Marie laughed, but she stopped when she saw the serious expression on Cristaña’s face. She shot Mabel a nervous look before focusing on the ground in front of her.
The landscape passed in a blur of dark shapes. Every few feet someone carried a metal torch that emitted a feeble white light and cast everything into grey hues. It only illuminated far enough for Marie to see the ground in front of her and the people beside her. Everything else faded into dark shadows. Up ahead the group was approaching the edge of a forest; Marie could see it as a dark black line against a light black background.
“Why are we heading out this early?” Marie whispered to Cristaña. If they left this early every morning, it was going to be a very long trip. Marie liked her sleep.
“It’s not as early as you think it is,” murmured Cristaña. “The days here are a little different. It’s the Earth equivalent of about 8:00 a.m. right now. The sun should
rise soon.”
They entered the forest within minutes, and everything turned a few shades blacker. Adrenaline heightened Marie’s senses. Not knowing what was beside her and knowing that everyone else was exploring new territory as well made the experience of walking through the forest both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. She craned her head from side to side, straining her eyes. On both sides, shadowy trees towered over her, giants against the background. She strained her ears, but all she heard was the soft murmur of conversation, the dull thumping of feet, and the faint hissing of machines. No animal sounds. Though disappointing, she supposed it was only to be expected. Any wildlife would have long since cleared out. The expedition wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, a fact Marie felt compelled to point out to Cristaña.
“It can’t be helped.” Cristaña shrugged. “If there are people nearby, odds are they’ve been watching us for a while. We couldn’t hide ourselves if we tried, so we don’t try.” She smirked. “Hence the people with machine guns.”
Marie cringed at the implication. “But why is the expedition so large? We look threatening. If we run across people, we’re going to intimidate them.”
Cristaña shrugged. “You’re telling me. I’m not sure. Some bureaucratic decision, no doubt. But it’s not totally a bad thing. There’s power in numbers.”
They fell silent. The group marched for several more minutes before Marie noticed the blackness surrounding them starting to look less black. The trees began to have a more definite shape. The underbrush they had been passing became more and more delineated. Up above the stars faded into a purple-red sky. She stared at her surroundings, soaking it all in, these first views of daylight on the Other Side.
The trees they were passing were huge, larger than redwoods, but with tan, mossy barks and large, sprawling roots that the group meandered between. Thick bushes with dark green and purple leaves clumped around the root system, blocking the expedition’s way. Not knowing anything about the local flora, Marie made a point not to touch anything until she heard Mabel laugh.
“Don’t worry about the bushes, Citizen.” Her expression managed to be both amused and condescending. “We call them Prietta bushes. They’re not poisonous. Their leaves will prickle you if you brush against them, but otherwise they won’t hurt you. The only plant you need to watch out for is that one.” She jerked her finger to her right, and Marie saw what looked like a maroon, mini Christmas tree with silver berries. “We call those trees Santa’s Poison. The berries secrete a sticky toxin that will kill you if you ingest it. So stay away.”
Marie eyed the tree warily, noticing for the first time how the expedition members seemed to be giving it a wide berth.
The surroundings grew slowly brighter, till at last, as if a signal had been sounded, the entire sky lit up in a blaze of red and orange. Marie stopped, staring up through the canopy in awe. The light filtered down, bathing the entire forest in a canvas of sparkling colors. The green looked greener, the purple more purple. The Prietta bushes shivered for a second, and then burst into bloom, yellow flowers popping out and filling the air with a sweet scent, something similar to vanilla. Up above, the branches of the trees had also burst into bloom, white flowers drooping all around. The layer of vines that swathed the trees released an explosion of small red blossoms. A soft breeze ruffled through the canopy, and a shower of flower petals pattered down on the group.
Delight filled Marie, and she couldn’t help the big smile that crossed her face. She swelled with excitement. It was just so strange and beautiful! This is why I came, she thought with a sense of vindication. I would have missed this if I hadn’t!
Seeing Marie’s face, Mabel’s expression softened. “It happens every morning,” she explained quietly. “We’ve started calling it the Morning Bloom. The plants respond to the presence of sunlight here in a way they don’t on Earth. We’re still trying to figure out the exact mechanism that causes it to happen. But it’s fascinating, is it not?”
“It’s wonderful!” breathed Marie, her eyes wide.
Walking through the forest was like walking through a dream or a fantasy world. The place was so beautiful, so surreal, so unearthly…Marie smiled a little at that thought. Well, she wasn’t exactly on Earth anymore, was she?
They must have marched for hours, but Marie enjoyed every minute of it. She didn’t even feel tired, so enraptured was she by her surroundings. When at last someone gave the signal for the group to halt for lunch, Marie felt disoriented and slightly disappointed.
She stood still for a moment, watching as everyone suddenly rushed into action, each person knowing where to go and what they had to do once at their destination. Not for the first time, it occurred to her that everyone else on the expedition had been training for it for months. They had spent time together. They knew each other. They knew exactly what to do. Marie was an outsider.
“Ma-rie!” came the sing-song voice of Jennifer. Marie blinked and tore herself from her musings. Jennifer bounced up out of nowhere and grabbed Marie’s arm. “Come with me if you want to eat!” And she proceeded to drag Marie forward. Marie stumbled trying to keep up.
Near the beginning of the procession a small line had already formed around a large roller. A man in a dark brown uniform stood next to it. He had slung an apron around his waist, but his protruding belly overwhelmed it. His face, round and freckled, seemed to be permanently red, as though he was on the verge of having a stroke any minute.
“That’s Bernard,” said Jennifer quietly, looking nervous. “He’s in charge of food.”
Marie eyed him as she waited in line. The man scowled at anyone who looked less than thrilled with the food he offered. When it was her turn to receive her carton, Marie tried to smile at him, but he glowered. Her smile became a little forced. “Citizen,” he said slowly, grabbing a carton out of the roller, his dark eyes contemptuous and angry.
“Hi,” she muttered, grasping the carton. He gave it up reluctantly.
She turned away. The beauty of the morning had faded. As Jennifer grabbed her arm to lead her to wherever the Babies were sitting, Marie couldn’t help but feel a little irritated. The cliquey attitude was really getting old.
She sat down. Joseph glanced up.
“Hello, Marie.”
“Hi.” She smiled.
Jennifer plopped down beside her and slung her arm around her shoulder. “Ooo-kay!”
Marie vaguely wondered how Jennifer managed to stay so energetic and perky. It was almost annoying. As if this thought had manifested itself on her face, Dustin glanced at her and snorted into his food carton, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Okay what?” Marie asked, turning to face her.
Jennifer arched an eyebrow. “Okay…spill. Why are you here? How did you get involved in this? Why did SpiritStar choose you of all people? I mean,” she added hastily, “No offense, but when they said an ordinary citizen would be joining us, we were all thinking they meant some outdoor adventurer, crazy mountaineer, Survivorman-type-of-guy, not an 18 year old girl barely out of high school.”
Marie’s eyes fell to her food carton. She blushed. She had known the others would ask her these questions, but she had hoped they would wait. She had wanted to come up with a reason that didn’t sound dumb and naïve, although that’s exactly how Grandmother had described Marie’s reasoning. Marie’s thoughts flickered back to two weeks ago, when she had first gotten involved.
Well, she thought, if she was truthful with herself, she had gotten involved long before then. She just hadn’t known it.
The company known as SpiritStar had struggled for years. While other companies had developed new computer technologies, better communication methods, faster modes of transportation, and life-saving vaccines, SpiritStar had languished. It was on the verge of bankruptcy when a man named Bruno Campbell had become its president. He had instituted several new programs designed to explore completely new areas of research. Within two years SpiritStar had experienced a tur
n-around. It struck a deal with the military, and the value of its stock started to rise. And then, the rumors started…interdimensional travel…that’s what they’re working on…
Jennifer cleared her throat.
Marie smiled slightly. “There’s not much to tell,” she said simply, picking at her food. “The MIT works by recognizing the genome of the individuals passing through it. It has to be calibrated to each genome, which is not only insanely expensive but time-consuming.” Marie paused. “And when they decided that an extra person was coming along…well, there wasn’t much time for calibration.”
She shouldn’t have to explain this. It was common knowledge.
“Well, SpiritStar already had my genome—or half of it, anyway.” Her eyes swept around the group, and seeing their puzzled faces, she smiled somewhat sadly. “My dad,” she explained. “He worked for SpiritStar. He went to jail when I was very little. When he was released on parole, SpiritStar was looking for test subjects for a proto-MIT, and, well, they paid well, and parolees rarely get well-paying jobs…So he came to work for them. They sequenced his genome and calibrated it to the MIT’s program. A year later, he died on the job.”
Marie sighed heavily. “So when they decided they needed a citizen, they came to me—because it wouldn’t cost them as much to ‘calibrate’ me, so to speak, and it wouldn’t take them very long. I was a lucky break.”
“And you just accepted, no questions asked?” drawled Raymond.
Marie flushed, her eyes darting to the bush behind Joseph’s head. She had a feeling if she told them SpiritStar had offered her five million dollars to come, the news would spread like wildfire, and she’d be even more disliked. She highly doubted anyone else’s paycheck was even a fraction of that amount. So she went for the other reason, which, if she was honest with herself, was the main reason she was here. Though the money helped. A lot.
“I just…” she floundered. “My life is full of so many what ifs…I didn’t want another one. I knew that if I didn’t go, I’d regret it the rest of my life. Really, despite two weeks of agonizing, it was decided as soon as SpiritStar offered me the spot.” How could she even begin to explain the urge she had felt to come? Her life had been so boring, without any prospects, and then, out of the blue, this great opportunity… She remembered the night SpiritStar had approached her. Grandmother had been trying to convince her to get a job at Madame Margot’s, the local café:
“They’re hiring! You can make good money waiting tables!” Grandmother narrowed her eyes. “We need the money, Marie. You know it.”
“But what about college?” Marie asked desperately. “Texas Tech offered me a scholarship! All it will cost is the bus ticket there and some dorm supplies. I don’t even need a computer. I can use one in the library!”
Grandmother snorted disdainfully. “You don’t need to go to college!” She banged her walking stick against the wooden floor. “You need to stay here, with me! Who will take care of me while you’re gone?”
“But—”
“And I’ve heard about this Texas Tech. Party school. You’ll end up just like your mother—or, heaven forbid—your father. No, Marie. I forbid it!”
Marie had opened her mouth to reply, when at that moment the doorbell rang…
“Ah.” Dustin smirked. Marie slowly tore herself from her memory. “An adventurer at heart.”
Marie arched an eyebrow. “And you’re one to talk?” she said dryly. She glanced around at the others. “You’re all the same way,” she said flatly. “You could have gotten safer jobs elsewhere, with better pay no doubt, and yet you decided to come. You’re in it for the thrill.”
They looked at each other.
“True,” acknowledged Raymond, after a moment. “But at least we had some training.”
“Well, we can’t all be perfect.” Marie glanced down at her box and realized she had already finished her food. Funny. She didn’t recall tasting anything. Grimacing at that thought, she glanced expectantly at Jennifer. “What do we do with these?”
“Give them back to Bernard.”
Marie stood. “Joy.”
As she stalked away, Marie let her mind drift back to Earth. Now that she had started talking about the events leading up to the expedition, she couldn’t stop thinking about them. When the rumors about SpiritStar working on interdimensional travel first surfaced, they had been dismissed as just that: rumors. But the rumors had persisted, and soon journalists started discussing the possibility in articles, DJs started talking about it on their radio shows…The rumors solidified into fact with an announcement from SpiritStar. That was when Marie’s father started working for them—then the accident—and then, two years later, the second announcement…
Marie handed the carton to Bernard, who glared at her.
The second announcement had come only a little over a year ago: SpiritStar had succeeded in its quest for interdimensional travel. They had created a device called the MIT, which stood for, unimaginatively enough, the Machine for Interdimensional Travel. Not everyone was happy about their success. In fact, the first few days after SpiritStar’s announcement had been some of the scariest Marie could remember, with protestors storming the capital and threatening SpiritStar employees. Bruno Campbell had to hire an entire contingent of soldiers to guard his estate.
But then the furor dimmed. The protestors started organizing themselves. There was less rioting and more legislation. It took ten months for the government to approve SpiritStar’s exploration of the “Other Side,” and that approval only came with several stipulations: That government agents would accompany the SpiritStar employees on the expedition, that someone picked by the government would head the expedition, and that the SpiritStar expedition members would have to follow certain rules given by the government.
Later another stipulation would be added: Marie.