Chapter 20

  Alan Sheppard

  The sages have a hundred maps to give

  That trace their crawling cosmos like a tree,

  They rattle reason out through many a sieve

  That stores the sand and lets the gold go free:

  And all these things are less than dust to me

  Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

  -Chesterton

  No one looked more surprised than Rebecca when, instead of accepting Nicholas Carter’s open arms of embrace, she slapped him across the face hard enough to send him staggering to the damp asphalt. “What the hell, Nick?” she demanded. “Leaving us? Dying in a plane crash?”

  “Er,” he said, dazed. “I can explain. To an extent.” He paused. “That means I can’t explain everything. Er. Or, most things. A majority of things, in consideration, ah, fall into that category. Of things I can’t explain. Er…”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Oh god,” she whispered. “You’re real.”

  Nicholas Carter got to his feet and rubbed the red mark on the side of his face. He adjusted his glasses and the sad, stained rag of a lab coat that hung limply around him. “That is correct. Er. As far as I am aware. But before you slap me agai—”

  The second slap came from the other side; a backhand. Alan winced. That one stung. By this time, the whole circus had piled out of the ALL-Rover. They gathered in a cluster to watch this peculiar reunion in the fog.

  “Oh,” said Nicholas Carter, peering at them. He smiled, and it was a smile of relief. “Good,” he said. “You’re all here.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Rebecca whispered. “God, you look 20 years older.” She was right. Alan had seen Mr. Carter in pictures, and there had been no creases of age on his thin face, nor graying streaks in his hair.

  “Twenty?” Nicholas adjusted his glasses in confusion and scratched at his greasy hair. “It, er, it should be ten. Could you, eh, introduce me? I am—oh!”

  Rebecca stepped forward and hugged him. Nicholas flailed for a moment before awkwardly hugging her in return. Rebecca spoke in a low voice, so that only her brother and Alan nearby could hear. “The hell do you mean ‘it should be ten’?”

  “It’s been, er, ten years. Since I’ve seen you, that is.”

  She stepped back, and already she looked annoyed enough to slap him again. “Nick, you disappeared four years ago.”

  “Er. Yes. Well…oh!” He looked past her at Alan and the rest. “Hello,” he said, nervously adjusting his glasses. “I am, eh, Nicholas Carter. Er. I know who you all are.”

  Alan, Dwayne, Michael, AJ, Leah, Amelia, and Elmer all looked back at Nicholas with some degree of silent expectation. They all knew who he was, too. They also all knew that he was supposed to be dead.

  “Eh. Yes. An explanation. As promised. Well…you know, Becky, I put a great deal of consideration into this meeting. Er. How it would go. What I would say. But, eh, now I’m here…oh.” He became distracted by their surroundings, which changed again. The fog nearby coalesced into a sunny green landscape of rolling hills, in which brightly colored numbers the size of elephants frolicked about. It was interesting, but nothing too unusual. Alan had seen Leah drawing this in crayon earlier, so it came as little surprise. Only Elmer got excited over this temporary new view, exclaiming something about the orange sky. It began to collapse back into grey nothingness.

  “Nick,” said Rebecca. She snapped her fingers, drawing his attention. “Focus.”

  “Oh! Of course. Right. It’s only…the genesis mist. Remarkable. Creativity, given form. Never ceases to amaze.”

  Alan wasn’t sure he agreed with that. The ‘genesis mist’ had ceased to amaze him some time ago.

  Nicholas Carter took a deep breath, then puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. “You see, Rebecca,” he said. “Your brother did die in the plane accident. Though it was not an accident.”

  Silence.

  He continued. “I am not that man. I intended to get in touch with him, but…Ah. ‘Intended’ means that it was something I had planned on doing.”

  Rebecca put a hand to her head, an act Alan already recognized as her unique brand of dangerous confusion. “I know what it means, Nick,” she said. It was a placeholder sentence, spoken because she was thinking of what she really wanted to say. It had the worn-out sound of something she had said to him a thousand times.

  “I am from a previous time, Rebecca,” Nicholas continued. “Er. The same time, but not the same iteration. It is difficult to explain. Ah, ‘iteration’ means—”

  “Are you telling me,” Rebecca interrupted, “that there are—or were—two of you, Nick?” Her voice had a dangerous edge to it, which did not go unnoticed by Mr. Carter.

  “Er. Yes. For a few years. We were the same, of course, except that I was ten years his senior. He didn’t know about me. Er. Though I planned on collaborating. I never…got the chance.”

  “And he died,” said Rebecca, “and you…”

  “I couldn’t contact you, Rebecca,” said Nicholas, a tone of pleading in his voice. “It would have put you and Kaitlyn in danger. I—”

  “Do you think we gave a damn about danger?” Rebecca didn’t shout. It was worse than that—a low, fierce whisper.

  “I wanted to, Rebecca.” Nicholas had tears in his eyes now. “I missed Kaitlyn.”

  A new voice spoke, low and rough. “Let’s get in out of this fog.” It was Dwayne Hartman. Both of the Carters started as though remembering they weren’t alone.

  “Wild,” added AJ, speaking suddenly. “I’ll…make us some…tea.” She glanced at both Dwayne and Rebecca as though wondering whether tea alone would suffice.

  Leah’s numerical landscape closed in with fog, and they all proceeded inside. Minutes later, with hot drinks, Nicholas Carter resumed his explanation. He did so nervously, for Rebecca was watching him, unreadable. She had not spoken since entering the ALL-Rover.

  “So you’re Christmas,” said Alan once they’d settled in the main cabin of the vehicle, which now seemed more cramped than ever.

  Nicholas nodded. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “St. Nick.” Michael chuckled. “It was, er, Isaac’s idea,” said Nicholas. “The name.” He paused. “Because Saint Nicholas is a common moniker of Santa Claus. Who is related to Christmas. Therefore, er…” He trailed off, took a long sip of his tea.

  “So you’ve been involved with October Industries,” said Alan. “You’ve been on the inside.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Not just involved,” said Nicholas. “I, er, founded October Industries. This iteration of it, that is. I’m the one they know as Nikola Raschez.”

  Alan almost spat out his coffee. “Raschez? You?”

  Nicholas nodded. He gestured at the lab coat, as if that provided some further explanation. He hadn’t taken it off after coming inside, though it clung to him with damp.

  His revelation that he founded October Industries had caused a stir. Every person in the room except Dwayne had run into October Industries, and October Industries had always been the enemy. They had killed Kaitlyn Carter. Rebecca had her thermos in a white-knuckled death grip.

  “I intended it to help them,” said Nicholas. “Er. The six, that is. Oh.” He suddenly noticed Leah’s drawing on the table with the numbers roaming about on green hills. Alan took a cue from Rebecca and snapped his fingers to get Nicholas’ attention back on track. “Er. Yes. But after the Breach incident, well, those three took over, I’m afraid. Ah. The ‘Breach’ is that incident from a few months back which caused the resonance and, er, brought you two in. As well as, er, Black.”

  When he said ‘you two’, he looked at Elmer and Amelia. Amelia tilted her head quizzically in response. Elmer beamed gormlessly over his steaming mug.

  An itemized list of questions filed through Alan’s mind. Since Rebecca remained stubbornly silent, Alan decided to just start through them. He spoke his thoughts out loud. “So you were in charge of October Industries, but there was a coup.” Nicholas nodded in confirmation. “Who are ‘those three?’”

  “Ezekiel, Jordan, Shadrach.” Alan vaguely recalled hearing or seeing those names from his time with October Industries, though he knew little about them. “Er. They aren’t from this world.” Nicholas said this casually, as an afterthought. He sipped his tea, unaware he had said anything unusual.

  Amelia spoke up. “Back to this, ‘Breach,’ Mr. Carter…”

  “Nick, please.”

  “Nick. Do you mean that you are responsible for bringing Elmer and I here? For losing our memories?” Her tone indicated that this crime would not go unpunished.

  “Now, now, Amelia!” said Elmer. “It hasn’t been all bad! Remember those fish. Koi! And goodness me, the variety of tea they have here…”

  “The, er, memory loss was unintended. But the process was untested. Yes, right. I meant to bring you two, and Jacob Hollow, and Mr. Shade here to Earth. To help the six. Because you all appear human, you see. Couldn’t have brought that Ruth—ha! Er. And it worked, except for the memory loss. Still, we could have managed. But those three did something, ah, unanticipated, by also importing…er. Someone else.”

  Michael and Dwayne and Amelia all spoke together, saying some variation of “Black” or “Abraham Black.”

  Nicholas nodded sadly. Then his brows scrunched up in confusion. “But not just any Abraham Black. Er. Not even the one from your Narrative,” he gestured at Amelia and Elmer. “From…somewhere else. And he, well, he ruined everything. For me, and for those three. He destroyed the facility, er, as you are well aware, Mr. Sheppard, and allowed the others, including you two, to scatter before I could explain anything. Er.” He sighed. “And then it all went wrong. Er. That was where my control of events, ah, slipped.”

  “Your control?” asked Alan.

  Nicholas adjusted his glasses. “It’s why I came back. To the, eh, to the past. To make sure…things worked out. And despite Black, and the, er, takeover by those dratted three…it has in fact worked out rather well.”

  No one present found this to be an accurate assessment, and most of them voiced this opinion at once. Kaitlyn and Isaac murdered, the world ended (maybe?), Jimothy and Elizabeth comatose, etc.

  Nicholas raised his thin, pale hands for silence, and received it after a moment. “It has been, er, not ideal, I admit. But the important thing is, they all made it.”

  “Who?” Alan demanded. “Who made it where, Mr. Carter?”

  “Well, the six, of course. Er. That is, Eric, Heidi, Kaitlyn, Isaac, Elizabeth, Jimothy. Er. They are in their Narrative. All six, which is a good start.”

  “So,” said Rebecca, speaking for the first time, “Kaitlyn is…alive?”

  “Absolutely,” said Nicholas. “Er. As far as I know. I can’t see for myself until we enter the Museum, but from Riley’s last observation it seems they are at least alive.”

  “Riley…” Rebecca clearly had no idea how Riley came into it, but she accepted this. “Of course, damn him.”

  “It is unfortunate,” said Nicholas, “that, er, Kaitlyn and Isaac’s native bodies perished.” His face twisted with pain at the consideration of Kaitlyn’s death. “But you have Jimothy and Elizabeth here, correct? Ah. Good. And Riley has found Eric and Heidi. So you see, we have four, right as rain. Ah, ‘right as rain’ is an expression which means that they are functioning properly.”

  “I know that one!” Elmer whispered to Amelia.

  Nicholas set down his tea, careful to avoid Leah’s crayon drawing. “Shall we wake them up?”

  They stared at him.

  “Verily,” said AJ after a moment.

  “Excellent. Er. Mr. Whyte, do you have the device?”

  “The…? Oh!” Michael handed AJ his mug and moved to dig through the storage box in which they’d stashed the things from his car. Alan knew exactly what it was: a stack of six silvery discs, which Michael jokingly called the ‘death pancakes.’ Maybe, after all these months, Alan was about to learn what exactly it was for.

  Michael found it after only a moment. He handed it reverently to Nicholas. “Good, good,” said Nicholas as he examined the discs. “Unharmed. Er. Unopened. Should be…ah! These two.” He twisted the discs and slid them apart by means of hidden catches. The back of each disc had a smooth, flat surface. Nicholas selected one of the discs. He placed both his thumbs on the surface, which glowed briefly with blue scan lines. Nicholas held his eye close, staring into the disc. Then it fell apart with a snick to reveal something within that looked like a palm-sized ceramic hexagon, white as snow, nestled in a protective foam cushion.

  Amelia and Elmer murmured together as Nicholas repeated this process with another disk. It seemed to trigger a memory, for Elmer procured that battered notebook and proceeded to scrawl something in it.

  “What are those?” asked Michael when Nicholas stood up, a small white hexagon in each hand.

  “Er. They belonged to Jimothy and Elizabeth. From the previous, eh, iteration. Defunct, as you see.” He held them so that everyone could see. Each had six little black symbols. “Defunct is a word meaning, eh, that they no longer work. Come.” He rose and proceeded to the back of the ALL-Rover. “Clara,” he said on the way, “have you, eh, alerted Riley? That I have made contact?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Tell him I’m waking them up, as well.”

  “Understood. Query: will I meet ARKO soon?”

  “Maybe, maybe.” Nicholas came to a halt in front of the door to Jimothy and Elizabeth’s room. “Er. I have not done this before. Oh! There you are! I was wondering.” He said this in response to the blue rubber ball, the one that bounced autonomously. It bounded out of the bunk room and made several circuits around Nicholas, careening off the walls and floor with hollow rubbery whacking sounds. It seemed excited, if a racquetball’s movement could be described that way.

  “Do you know what that is?” asked Michael, curious.

  “It is, er, a souvenir,” said Nicholas. “It’s been a great help. Haven’t you?” The ball danced around his feet, then hopped up and balanced perfectly atop Nicholas’s head. “Now,” he said again, ignoring the ball. “Come along, Michael. Amber Jane.”

  There wasn’t enough room in the tiny bunkroom for everyone, so the rest of them waited outside while Nicholas did whatever he had gone in there to do.

  “I don’t know what to think,” said Rebecca, next to Alan.

  Alan had no reply. Everyone seemed mainly puzzled by the revelations Nicholas Carter had casually unloaded onto them. “Does he always talk like that?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Rebecca. “He’s in his own world all the time. So easily distracted. So out of touch.” She said it with affection. “I don’t regret slapping him, though.”

  “I don’t know all the details,” said Alan, “But if he really was Raschez, then he’s right that contacting you could’ve put you and Kaitlyn at risk from those three.”

  “We’ll see,” said Rebecca, now grim. “He still has a lot of explaining to do.”

  But the explaining would have to wait until after the reunions, because from the sounds of excitement within the bunkroom, Jimothy and Elizabeth had woken up.