The Journal of Curious Letters (The 13th Reality #1) (35 page)

“How?” Paul asked.

“By using another invention from Chu Industries in the Fourth Reality. It’s called a nanolocator.”

“Sounds fancy,” Sofia said. “Maybe Pacinis should make them.”

“I assure, you, Miss Pacini, there’s a big difference between making nanolocators and
spaghetti
sauce.” Sofia leaned forward like she was ready to get out of bed and attack Rutger, but he held up his hands in reconciliation, then hurried to continue. “A nanolocator is basically a microscopic robot, but it’s so tiny you can’t see it with the naked eye. It crawls into your skin and sends various signals back here to the Command Center.”

“What kind of signals?” Tick asked, shifting on his cot to get more comfortable. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a tiny robot crawling under his skin.

“Signals that monitor your Chi’karda levels, your global position, your body temperature—all kinds of things. Our fearless leader had to have some way to keep tabs on you, don’t you think? The nanolocators also told us where to send the Gnat Rats and Tingle Wraiths, which were programmed to find you and no one else.”

“Ah, man, I feel so . . . violated,” Paul said in a deadpan voice, then barked a laugh.

“How did he get it inside our bodies?” Tick asked.

“That’s easy,” Mothball said. “The little fella was on the first letter he sent you.”

“Serious?” Paul asked.

“When each one of you opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, the nanolocator quickly sought a heat source—your hand—and slipped right between your skin cells.” Rutger grinned. “Brilliant, don’t you think?”

“Dude, that just seems
wrong,
” Paul said, shaking his head.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Rutger replied, rubbing his eyes in a mock cry. “How else were we supposed to know when or if you burned the first letter. Or when you made your Pick?”

“Pick?” all three kids asked at once.

“I’ll take that one,” Mothball said. “A Pick’s what Master George calls a ruddy big decision. Your Chi’karda level spikes like a rocket shootin’ off to space, it does. Showed up on his big monitor and let him know when yer were truly committed to the job he offered, when you really promised yourself there was no turning back. Smart old chap, don’t you think?”

“Master George watched his big screen every day,” Rutger said, “so he’d know when you made your Pick. Word is he just about suffocated his cat hugging the poor thing when you three made your Pick at almost the same time. That was uncanny.”

Tick thought of that night he knelt in front of the fireplace and the decision he’d made to not burn the letter in his hand. He remembered the sensation of warmth that had spread throughout his whole body.
That was my Pick,
he realized.
He’d felt that same sensation again later, when he screamed out in the dark woods and managed to somehow change reality.
Is that what using the Chi’karda feels like?
Tick shivered. It was a lot to think about.

“What are we in, anyway?” Paul asked, looking above and around him. “Is this a boat or what?”

“No, it’s a building, firmly rooted in the ocean floor far below us,” Rutger said. “Master George used a little trick he learned from the Eighth Reality, where it’s mostly ocean. They developed some amazing cabling technology that allows them to build entire cities on the ocean. We’re perfectly safe and stable. You can barely feel the waves unless we have a real doozy of a storm.”

Mothball yawned, a booming roar that made Tick jump. “Master George will have our hides, he will, if he finds out we kept you up so late. Come on, now, we need—”

“Wait,” Tick interrupted her. “Just one more question, okay?”

“Be quick about it. Me bones hurt I’m so tired.”

“What’s the deal with cemeteries? Rutger said something once about the difference between life and death . . . I can’t remember.”

“It was another famous Master George quote,” Rutger replied. “‘
Nothing in this world better reflects the difference between life and death than the power of choice.’
Chi’karda levels are very high in cemeteries. Master George says it has to do with the lingering effects of the life-changing choices those people made. One way or another, their choices led them to their fates, whether good or bad.”

“And so we needed to go there because . . .” Tick started but stopped, worried his answer would be wrong.

“So we could
wink
easier,” Sofia said. “The stronger the levels of Chi’karda, the easier it is to travel between Realities.”

“Exactly,” Rutger agreed. “Not only can you travel between the barriers, you can travel between different locations of heavy Chi’karda spots within the
same
Reality. That’s how Master George could wink you from your towns to this place. He simply honed in on your nanolocator signals and winked you away!”

“My head hurts,” Paul groaned, falling onto his back as he rubbed his forehead.

“That’s because you Americans aren’t smart enough to get it,” Sofia said. “I’ll be happy to tutor you on everything tomorrow.”

“Methinks I’ve had enough for one day,” Mothball said. “Good night, all.”

She and Rutger left the room, flicking off the light as they went.

A few more words were said after they’d left, but sheer exhaustion soon pulled the three of them into a deep sleep.

~

Something jolted Frazier out of his dreamless slumber.

He swatted at the dark air around him, scrambling into a sitting position. What had it been? Was he—

He heard a loud thump against the wall by his cot. Then another, a clang of metal against metal that echoed throughout the small cell. Then another, this time
louder.

What was that?

He scurried over to the light switch and flipped it on, squinting in the brightness. To his shock, a small dent, about three inches wide, bent the wall inward just above his bed. The bolts connecting the wall to the surrounding metal had loosened slightly, rattling as another big thump sounded. The wall bent even farther.

One final boom sounded through the room, and the entire piece of metal fell onto his bed, its bolts cracking like whips as they broke in half. Frazier stared past the hole in the wall, seeing the endless ocean in front of him, the first traces of dawn casting a purple glow over the deep waters. Then, inexplicably, a face appeared from below—someone he’d never seen before. It was a man with scraggly black hair and an unshaven face.

“Come on, Mister Gunn, we don’t have much time!”

“What . . . who . . . what . . .” Frazier couldn’t find any words after such a long time in confinement.

“Mistress Jane sent us to rescue you,” the man yelled.

“Rescue me?” Frazier could hardly believe it.

“Yes!” the man replied. “And then we’re going to destroy this place once and for all.”

~

Tick woke to the awful smell of fish breath and an annoying scratchy feeling on his right cheek. From somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard a loud boom like an underground explosion. He opened his eyes to see two yellow orbs staring at him. It was a cat, pawing at his face to . . . wake him?

Tick sat up, accidentally knocking the cat to the floor. “Oh, sorry.” The sleek feline hissed in annoyance, then padded over to Paul’s cot to wake him as well.

That’s one smart cat,
Tick thought.

Sofia was already awake, rubbing her eyes and stretching. Tick looked at his watch to see only a few hours had passed since they went to bed. The thought made him twice as tired; all he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

But then the whole world seemed to go crazy at once.

Another boom, this time much louder, shook the building as it echoed off the walls. The door to the room flew open and banged against the wall, rebounding back and knocking Master George to the floor, who was wearing a bright red nightshirt even more ridiculous than the one Tick wore. He grunted and scrambled back to his feet.

“Good job, Muffintops, jolly good job!” Master George picked up his cat and petted its back. “You three, we must hurry! Our plans have been . . . escalated.”

The others had slept in their clothes, but Tick still wore his horrible pajamas. As Paul and Sofia moved to follow Master George, Tick quickly went into the bathroom where he’d hung his clothes to finish drying. They were still damp, but he changed into them as fast as he could. He’d just pulled on his second shoe when someone pounded on the door.

“Mister Higginbottom!” came the muffled voice of Master George. “What part of ‘we must hurry’ did you not understand?”

“Sorry!” Tick called as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. He opened the door and followed the old man, who was already across the room. Another boom sounded, and Tick felt like he was in a bunker, taking heavy artillery from the enemy. He tried to fight the panic that surged up his chest and into his throat.

They gathered back in the main room with the fireplace. Sato sat in the exact same spot where they’d left him only a few hours before, though his puffy eyes showed he’d just woken up as well. Rutger and Mothball were there too; the tall woman had an enormous backpack perched on her shoulders.

Master George stood in front of the now-cold fireplace, holding the shiny Barrier Wand in both hands, his cat curled on the ground at his feet. “My friends, we are officially under siege.”

“What’re you talking about?” Sofia asked as another boom sounded in the building. “Is someone
bombing
us?”

“I’d hardly call them bombs, my good lady, but we haven’t any more time to talk about it. Jane’s power over the mutated Chi’karda must be growing if she has enough daring to attack us here. I must send you off on your mission immediately.” He started adjusting the seven dials and switches of the Barrier Wand, his tongue pressed between his lips.

“Whoa, dude,” Paul said. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

“We don’t have time to argue,” Rutger said from where he leaned against the door. “Master George and I will stay here and protect the Command Center as best we can; we have a few tricks up our sleeve that Mistress Jane doesn’t know about. You three are going with Mothball to the Thirteenth Reality.”

“The Thirteenth—” Tick started, his stomach falling into a pit of cold ice.

“Don’t waste another moment of my time with complaints or questions!” Master George finished his flipping and turning of the Wand’s controls and looked at the four recruits. “This attack on my home shows you the urgency of your mission. Follow Mothball’s orders. She has weapons called Sound Slicers if you run into trouble. Please do me a favor and don’t point them
at
each other. I’d rather you
not
return to me with your brains turned into runny oatmeal.”

Sound Slicers?
Tick wondered. He really wanted to voice a question, but the man in charge barely paused to breathe.

Master George held up a warning finger. “It is
imperative
you succeed in bringing back the Barrier Wand of Mistress Jane. We must seal her in the Thirteenth Reality forever. Or at least until we can properly prepare to fight against her evil magic hordes. If everything goes as planned, it should be quite, er, easy.”

Tick didn’t like the hesitancy in Master George’s voice. He already felt like a rookie paratrooper about to be pushed out of the plane for the first time over a major battlefield, under heavy fire.

“Atticus, you enjoy chess, yes?” Master George said in a tight voice.

Tick couldn’t think of a question that seemed more out of place. “Yeah.”

“Good. Come here.”

Tick moved closer to Master George, who put the Barrier Wand directly in front of his face. “It’s been my experience that chess lovers are quite good at memorization. Am I correct?”

“Uh . . .”

“Excellent! Now look at each of the controls on the Barrier Wand and memorize their position. Exactly, now—there’s no room for error, none at all.”

“But—”

“Quickly!”

Tick swallowed the lump in his throat and did as he was told, scanning his eyes up and down the length of the golden Wand.

“Hurry, we only have a minute at most!” Master George said.

Pushing his panic away, Tick tried to freeze-frame the image of each dial, switch, and knob in his mind, storing it,
burning
it in his memory. He was still focusing on the bottom dial when Master George took it away and began switching everything again.

Master George spoke as he worked. “Mothball isn’t . . . agreeable with Barrier Wands, so it’ll be up to you, Atticus, to bring all of you back in case something happens to me.”

Tick felt like someone had just poured acid down his throat.

“Mark your watches,” Master George continued. “If I don’t wink you back here in thirty hours—
precisely
thirty hours—that means that Rutger and I are in serious trouble. If that happens, Atticus, you will have to use Mistress Jane’s Barrier Wand—which looks exactly like this one—in order to escape the Thirteenth Reality. Adjust it as I showed you, then hit this button on the top.” He pointed at a perfect circle cut into the top of the cylinder. “It will wink you to one of our satellite locations where you will be safe from harm. Understand?”