I grabbed my photo album, plopping into a butterfly chair and flipping through to find pictures of my parents and quell the fear bubbling to my throat. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus on the people in the pictures. Smiling. Waving. But were these shiny, happy people really Mom and Dad, or just some random folks that came with the album?
I felt sick. I threw the album across the room and jumped from the chair to make a dash for the bathroom. My stomach heaved and I barely made it to the toilet in time. I threw up violently. Hacking. Coughing up something I didn’t remember eating. Then I sank to my knees and leaned my head against the porcelain seat, sobbing my eyes out.
What was I doing? Why was I freaking out like this? I knew going back to reality might take a little adjustment, but I had no idea it’d be this hard for my brain to accept. Was I losing my mind? I should be dancing around my apartment, overjoyed to be back, instead of doubting all the things I’d trusted throughout my life.
This was my stuff. My reality. My life. It was Terra that I didn’t remember. Terra that I should mistrust. So how come memories of Terra suddenly seemed so solid and real and those of Earth so fake?
A vision of Dawn, of his beautiful glowing eyes, his comforting smile, his warm embrace, flooded my consciousness. If only he were here. If only he had come back with me and could comfort me in my terror, tell me everything was going to be all right. But Dawn was gone from my life forever. That was my choice, and now I had to live with it. I had another guy here on Earth who would be overjoyed to have me back. My real boyfriend, Craig. A popular techno DJ at a Lower East Side club.
The club-kid gamer and her DJ boyfriend. My life really did seem like a cliché.
Desperate, I rummaged through my pocket and took a whiff of my inhaler. After all, the medication supposedly helped bond the body with the new reality of Earth. The more I puffed, the more real Earth would seem. Maybe that’s what I needed. I took a second dose, breathing in deeply, just in case.
A few minutes later, the medication kicked in. My breathing slowed and my heart stopped racing. The panic receded to the back of my brain and I rose to my feet to, once again, take stock of my surroundings. My reality.
I stepped back into my dorm room. I was home. Everything was as it should be. I was just having a panic attack from the transition. But I was okay now. All that I owned was here and familiar. My teddy bear, my family photos, my well-worn books, my computer. They were all suddenly teeming with resonance. Feeling better, I crawled into bed and stuck my feet deep under the quilt my aunt had made me. Snuggled into my pillow and closed my eyes.
Everything was going to be okay. I was safe. I was home. I was me again.
So why did it take sucking down a drug to make me feel that way?
*
I slept for nearly twenty-four hours. When I woke, I was still feeling out of sorts—itchy and uncomfortable in my own skin. I sucked down more asthma medication. It was the only thing keeping me from going completely insane. I lay in bed for hours, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake. I should be happy to be home, but all I could think about was Dawn. His hurt, pained eyes, his cracking voice as he said good-bye. Sure, I wanted my old life back, but being so distant from him—knowing I’d never see him again—it was tearing me apart.
I slept. I woke. I ate a few random things I found in my drawers. Then I slept again, skipping classes, ignoring the emails from my boss at Chix0r. At times I wondered what happened to my roommate and then wondered whether I had a roommate at all. Like everything else, I really couldn’t be sure.
I felt sick and weak and drugged, and I missed Dawn with every fiber of my being. It wasn’t till my third day back that I finally forced myself out of bed. My answering machine was blinking madly with messages from Craig, each invoking a pang of guilt for disappearing on him as I had.
I firmed my resolve; I had to find some semblance of control over my life. My real life. Or else I was going to end up a ghost in a shell. And so, that night, I decided to head down to Luna. Craig would be spinning and I could meet up with him between sets. Apologize for all I’d put him through and, if he would still have me, promise to be a better girlfriend in the future. Then we could live happily ever after and I’d forget all about Dawn.
I hoped.
I threw on some clothes—skinny jeans, slouchy boots, a long black belted sweater—and walked out of my dorm. As I locked my door behind me, I noticed a discarded bag of moldy Japanese take-out sitting outside my place. My heart sank as I remembered I’d invited Craig to come over right before I’d gotten pulled back to Terra. Poor guy. Here he’d been waiting for me and I was off in some alternate universe, throwing myself at another guy. How long did he stand out here knocking before giving up and going home? I really had to find him and make good.
I headed down the elevator and into the lobby. “Good evening, Skye,” the doorman said as I stepped out.
I startled. We didn’t have a doorman. And wasn’t this dorm a walkup the last time I was here? Or were there always elevators? I tried to remember, but my head remained foggy and unclear.
I stepped outside. The night was warm, and a full moon shone down on the streets of Manhattan. The sky was so bright, in fact, you could even manage to make out a star or two. Unusual in the city. People hustled up and down the sidewalks, eager to get to the next restaurant, the next bar, the next place to see and be seen. All living empty existences, I realized glumly—just like the Indys back on Terra. I reached into my purse and handed a homeless man on the sidewalk a ten-dollar bill.
Heading down into the subway, I readied myself for the normal ridiculous wait. To my surprise, the train came immediately, pulling up just as I stepped onto the platform. What luck! And it wasn’t even packed like the normal can of sardines. Unheard of for a Friday night. But no one else seemed to notice the change.
I emerged just south of Alphabet City and headed straight to Luna. As usual, the club was packed and the line wrapped halfway around the block. At least some things never changed. I found myself staring at the club-goers more closely this time, wondering which ones were Terrans and which were regular Earthlings. All I could tell was that the eighties look had caught on big time. Nearly everyone sported legwarmers, long sweaters, and leggings. I caught a few teen girls pointing at me and whispering. Probably Terrans recognizing Mariah. Super.
I headed to the front of the line, where Bruno was attending to the door. “Hey, baby!” he said, wrapping me in a huge hug. “Where have you been all my life?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Bruno,” I said, forcing a casual laugh. “But I’m back now. For good.” For some reason the words made me sad.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Craig’s been going nuts without you, and the crowd’s starting to pick up on the bad mixes and skipping records. You guys have a fight or something?”
“It’s a long story. But I’m here to make it up to him.”
Bruno nodded approvingly and unclipped the velvet rope. “Enjoy the makeup sex,” he said with a knowing wink. “That’s the best part.”
I laughed, waved off his suggestion, and stepped inside. The thought of sex was too much for me to even consider at this point. Not with me hanging on to reality by a thread.
You just would rather have it with Dawn, the now familiar inner voice jeered. I shoved it to the back of my brain. That might have been true, but it wasn’t a thought I was prepared to deal with at the moment. What brief closeness I had with Dawn, that was over forever. It was time to leave the dream behind and bond with reality. Get closer to Craig. Renew our relationship. Find happiness with the guy I was supposed to be with. Not the one I had left behind.
I pushed my way through the club and soon found myself in the center of the room, lights flashing, bass pounding, people dancing. I knew I should head straight to the DJ booth, find Craig, and work it all out, but I realized I wasn’t quite ready to face him just yet. I’d dance a bit first, I
decided. Then I’d go talk to him when he was on a break. After all, I always felt better after dancing, after letting thunderous jungle beats flow through me, losing myself in the rhythm.
And so I danced. Became one with the others on the dance floor, swaying my hips, swinging my arms, nodding my head, trying to find my true self somewhere in the music. Trying to seek out even a moment of peace.
It used to work wonders back in the day; on the dance floor I could shut off my mind and allow the music to take me to a higher plane of existence. But tonight, my mind wasn’t surrendering that easy. Instead of retreating to a high mountain of unconscious bliss, it chose to stay firmly on the ground, rehashing images of Terra. The Dark Siders. Dawn.
I stopped short as a vision slammed through my consciousness: Dawn’s tortured eyes, as clear as if they were blinking right in front of me. I smelled his fear. Felt his horror. Heard him call my name—Skye, not Mariah. He was begging for my help.
It was as if the wind had been knocked out of me. Was this some kind of premonition? Was something wrong on Terra? Had the government done something? Were people being hurt? Was it because of my leaving?
I shook my head. I had to give it a rest. I was back on Earth. I had to forget Terra. It wasn’t my world. It wasn’t my fight. I had my own crap to deal with. An angry boyfriend, a ton of unfinished schoolwork—the last thing I needed to be worrying about was Terra.
But something inside me wouldn’t allow me to let it go. I couldn’t dry-swallow the blue pill now that I’d partaken of the red. Now that I knew about Terra, I realized, I’d never be able to forget. Those people—how they suffered. My mind flashed back to the little schoolgirl, Crystal, who’d wrapped her scrawny arms around my legs and thanked me. How could I have left her behind? And for what? I looked around the room. For this empty shell of a life? Clubbing, video-gaming, shallow relationships with people who didn’t mean anything. I was just as bad as the Indys.
“Sister Mariah!” A girl’s voice cut through the loud music. I turned, suppressing a grimace. Two teenage girls, dressed in matching short skirts and thigh-high stockings, stood behind me. At first glance, they could be club kids. But I realized they must be Indy teens out for a night of ‘Gazing.
“Now you’ve done it,” the second girl said, kicking her friend. “We’re supposed to be staying in character, remember? What if she tells on us?”
“Please. It’s Sister Mariah. She’s not going to tell on us. Are you?” She looked up at me beseechingly.
“No. I won’t tell,” I assured her. “But maybe you two should run along—”
“Wow,” interrupted the first girl, her eyes glistening under the flashing lights. “I had no idea you’d be here. All the news feeds said you were kidnapped by the Dark Siders and being held prisoner.”
“Yeah, the government has been doing everything to find you, Mariah!” said the second girl, who sported long dark braids. “There’s, like, a huge reward and everything.”
“There is?”
“Yup. And the Dark Siders are getting punished for stealing you away,” added the first girl, tossing her long blond ponytail over her shoulder.
“Which is totally short-sighted,” complained the second girl. “I mean, no offense, but if the Dark Siders all die, who’s going to mine the tellurium so we can all ‘Gaze? I’d simply die if I couldn’t ‘Gaze anymore.”
“Duh. They’ll just get the nTs to do it,” proclaimed her friend.
I held up my hands to slow them down. “Wait a second,” I said. “Did you say the Dark Siders are dying?” I waited, breathless, for their reply.
The girls nodded in sync. “Yeah,” said girl number two. “I heard it from my friend. They’ve been pumping in some kind of poison gas through the ventilation fans. You know, to motivate them to set you free.”
I stared at them in horror. Could it be true? Could the children I met in the little one-room schoolhouse now be gasping for breath, the senior citizens collapsing in the market square? Could my leaving Terra have put everyone’s life in jeopardy?
And what about Dawn? Could he be suffering too?
“Wow. Mariah Quinn.” The blond girl gazed at me in awe. “Our friends will be so impressed when we tell them we hung out with a legend like you. Do you want to party with us tonight?”
“Sorry. I’ve … I’ve got to go,” I stammered. “Um, are there … Moongazing booths around here somewhere?” Or was I supposed to use the necklace? I should have asked more questions.
“Yeah, up in the VIP lounge,” said girl number one. “Well, they don’t look like the booths back in Terra, though. They’re just chairs. Sit in a chair and activate your necklace. You’ll be back in no time.”
“But do you have to go now?” whined girl number two. “Can’t you hang with us first?”
“Yeah, hang with us!” begged girl number one. “Supposedly Paris Hilton is going to show up tonight. And she might dance on tables. How cool would that be?”
“I think it’s Paris Milton,” I muttered, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure.
“Sorry, girls,” I said, backing away. “It was great to meet you.” I turned and made a dash for the VIP section. The chairs? Of course. That’s exactly where I was sitting when I was transported to Terra the first time. I ran through the club, pushing past sweaty bodies, ignoring the protests of the jostled dancers. No time for apologies; I had to get to the lounge.
My body stopped short as it slammed into something solid. I looked up, realizing that I’d just smacked into the very person I’d first wanted to find but now sought to avoid. Craig looked down at me in a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He grabbed me by the shoulders, his eyes piercing.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
I didn’t have time for explanations. For excuses. He wouldn’t understand anyway. He wouldn’t believe. I suddenly realized that, Mariah or no, Terra had become a huge part of me. And he couldn’t share that. There was no use wasting any more time on this superficial relationship built out of attraction and convenience.
“Long story,” I muttered. “Let me go.”
“I’m on my break. I have time for a long story. Let’s go to the back room and you can tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was, in a way. “But I don’t have time right now.”
He didn’t let go of me. “Why?” he demanded. I looked down at his hand gripping my arm. How come I’d never noticed he had one of those weird moon tattoos? “Got a hot date?” he asked. He was bluffing, of course, not having any idea how close he was to the truth. “You know, usually it’s custom to break up with someone you don’t want to see anymore, instead of just disappearing off the face of the earth, leaving them standing at your door with a bag of Japanese takeout.”
I cringed a little, feeling his disappointment, his anger. He didn’t deserve the treatment he’d gotten from me. He’d been a decent boyfriend, always treating me right. Just because I didn’t share the connection with him that I did with Dawn didn’t mean I should hurt him.
But this was an emergency. I couldn’t waste any more time. If what the girls said was true, then Dark Siders were dying and it was all because of me. I had to get back there and figure out a plan to stop the government from killing them. And I needed all the time I could get.
I reached up, kissed Craig on the cheek, and said good-bye forever. I felt terrible, especially after catching a glimpse of his hurt face, but I saw no alternative. My life here was trivial and unimportant, and I was wasting valuable time. I had to help the people who needed me.
“I’m sorry,” I said one more time, really meaning it.
Then I pushed past him and raced up to the VIP room before he could stop me and plopped down in a chair. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that he was running after me, taking the steps two at a time. I had to act fast. I grabbed for the necklace, fumbling with it for a moment before my fingers located the tiny button.
I pressed down hard, closed my eyes, and readied my
self to go back to hell.
A hell that was feeling more and more like my real home.
SIXTEEN
I open my eyes and find myself in a familiar, swirling, technicolor Moongazing booth. I let out a sigh of relief. It worked. I’m back.
I remove the shades, find the handle, and step outside the booth and into the hallway, feeling a bit freaked out at what I’ve just done: left my home, willingly, and perhaps, a nagging thought at the back of my brain reminds me, for good this time.
I shake my head. I can regret this all later. Right now I have to find the Eclipsers and get an update of what’s going on and how I can help. I have to find Dawn.
I dash down the hallway and burst out into the lobby of Moongazer Palace. It’s completely empty now, save for the ever-present proprietor.
“Short trip,” the Asian gentleman notes coolly from his position behind the counter, looking me up and down with his spectacle-covered eyes. Does this guy ever take a break? A day off?
“Long enough,” I reply, realizing how oddly good it feels to be back. The weird, displaced vertigo I’d been suffering on Earth has totally disappeared, and I’m almost getting this strange home-sweet-home vibe. I feel like me again. Which doesn’t make any sense, I realize, but there you go.
Without bothering to ask permission, I grab the phone off the counter and dial Dawn’s number.
“Hello?” he answers a moment later, his voice low and sleepy sounding.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Oh my God, Dawn,” I cry, relief and happiness flooding through me just from hearing him answer. “I’m so glad you’re there.”
“Mariah?”
I wince, consider, then force myself to correct him. “It’s Skye.”
“Um, right. Sorry,” he stammers, sounding a bit out of breath. I remember the Indy girls’ tales of the poison. My heart quickens. Is Dawn down there, literally asphyxiating as we speak? “Where are you?” he asks, finding his questions. “I thought—aren’t you on Earth? How can you be calling me from there?”