Awake Read online

  It was the man I had seen earlier, the one who was waiting for his train.

  “Hello,” I said, hoping this was a universal greeting.

  The man frowned. He looked me over.

  “Can I help you with something?” I asked.

  He continued frowning and finally looked me in the eye. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I'm no one,” I replied. “Just waiting for the train.”

  “There's not going to be another train,” he said.

  “Sure there is. I just bought a ticket.” Why was this man being so hostile?

  He pulled out a wallet from his back pocket and flashed it at me.

  It was a badge. I had a quick second to read what it said: HAWTHORNE CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT and below that: DEPARTMENT OF TRAVELER AFFAIRS

  “Is there something wrong, officer?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound terrified.

  He didn't answer for a second. Finally, he said, “You don't belong here.”

  My heartbeat quickened. “What do you mean, I don't belong here?”

  “If I scanned you right now, would I find your identi-chip?”

  Of course I didn't know what he was talking about. “Look, officer...” I trailed off.

  “Jeff Thomas,” he said. “I know you're not from here, and if I scanned you there'd be no evidence that you do belong here.”

  “I'm...I'm from out of town,” I said, lamely. “I just moved here a couple of weeks ago.”

  He sighed and waved his hand towards the parking lot. “You're from...there. Aren't you?”

  “What, the parking lot?” I said, and then realized what a stupid thing that was to say.

  “Don't be smart,” he snapped. “I've dealt with your kind before. You come here and screw things up. Every single thing you do has a consequence here.”

  “Officer Thomas, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm new to this city. I'm just trying to get on the train to run some errands.”

  He still held onto his wallet; he seemed to press something on the badge. His badge apparently had other uses; there was a beeping noise and I could see a faint green glow. “What's the name of this city?”

  Shit. I didn't know. I hoped it was the same name as the city I lived in. “Beaverton.”

  “Beaverton? What kind of name is that? What's the name of the Prime Minister?”

  Prime minister? “Look, officer, do you really have the right to question me like this? Can't I just go on my way?”

  “You don't know, do you? What month is this?”

  That I did know. “Sol,” I said.

  “You don't know anything. If I scan you and don't find your identi-chip I'm authorized by law to take you in to the station.”

  “Look, officer, how about I just...go home? Would that work?”

  He touched the badge again; the green glow faded. “Fine. I'm giving you an hour. Go back to where you came, and don't return here. If I find you here again, I'm taking you in. You've been photographed since coming to this station. That picture of you is going to go out to all the officers in the division. If any of them find you, you'll be brought in. You'll be scanned, and since you and I both know you don't have the identi-chip, you'll be prosecuted and sentenced.”

  “That seems pretty harsh. What makes you think a jury would convict me?” I was babbling.

  “Jury?” he said. “There's no jury. There's no trial. Not having the chip implanted is proof enough that you're not a citizen. You'll receive the usual sentence.”

  “What sentence is that?” I asked.

  “Banishment,” Thomas said. “Banishment from this world, banishment from your world, banishment from all worlds.”

  “You're crazy,” I said. “You'd put me to death for not having this chip?”

  “It's not death,” he said. He started walking away. He paused for a moment and turned back to look at me. “You'd wish it was death. One hour. I'll be sending my officers to patrol the area then. You'd best be gone. We don't need your kind here.” With that he headed to his car, climbed in, and drove away.

  My hands were shaking. What the hell did he mean by banishment? Whatever it was, it didn't sound very pleasant.

  I had to get out of here.

  But how?

  That was a good question. How would I find one of those portals?

  I thought the first thing I should do is head back to where I entered this strange world. Maybe I'd find it again.

  It took ten minutes to head back to that area – or at least to what I thought was the right area.

  Nothing.

  No weird shimmering, no disembodied voice calling out my name.

  I stopped for a second. Maybe if I concentrated I could find it. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

  More nothing.

  I stood in place for a few moments, trying to concentrate. Trying to listen.

  This was futile. I had to get out of here. I had to at least get out of sight until I could figure out what to do next. But what? Where could I go? I had no money, and apparently my credit card didn't work in this world.

  If Officer Thomas was telling the truth – and I had no doubt he was – my image was being sent to police officers all over this city.

  Whatever it's name was.

  As I stood with indecision, suddenly, I heard what sounded like approaching foot steps.

  Shit. Did an hour go by already? Did time work differently in this world? I had no idea.

  Resigned, I turned in the direction of the foot steps.

  Approaching me was a young woman. She appeared to be in her early 20s. Tall, dark brown hair in a style I'd never seen before. She was dressed casually: faded blue jeans (did they have Levis in this world?), t-shirt, and white sneakers.

  Her eyes were a piercing green. As she came closer I held up my hands and said, “Hey, I'm leaving! I thought I had an hour! It's only been 15 minutes!”

  “I'm not here to arrest you,” she said. She stopped and looked me over. “You're Charles, aren't you?”

  I gaped. “How did you know that?”

  She smiled. “I know who you are. I'm Melissa's sister.”

  “Melissa? Wait, do you mean...” I trailed off.

  In my world, Melissa had one sibling, a sister; she had died when Melissa was 18. I had seen the photographs of her, of course.

  “Your wife, yes. I'm Lynne.”

  I couldn't think straight. “I know. I've seen pictures of you. Mel used to talk about you all the time. But...you died. You were 18. You were with some friends, they were drunk, and the car you all were riding in crashed into a bus...”

  “Obviously,” she said, “I'm alive and well here.”

  “But...how did you find me? How is this possible?”

  She grinned. “I'm part of a...group, I guess you could say. We monitor the police computer network. Your picture was displayed with a 'be on the lookout for this traveler' message. I was dispatched to get you.”

  “But,” I floundered, “that was just a few minutes ago! How did you get here so fast?”

  “I can portal jump. Just like you. Now, enough questions. Let's get you off the street. We need to get you home.”

  “Sure, thanks,” I said. “But...if you're alive...”

  “Melissa is alive,” she said gently.

  “This is a dream, isn't it?” I said. “How is any of this even possible?”

  “It's not a dream,” Lynne said. “It's all very real. I can answer your questions later, but we need to get off the street.”

  “That sounds good to me. Do you have a car?”

  “I don't need a car,” Lynne replied. “I'm like you – a portal jumper.”

  “Uh...okay...” I trailed off, bewildered.

  “Just watch.” She closed her eyes.

  After a few moments there was a loud sound – that breakfast cereal crinkling sound.

  Suddenly a shimmering of light a few feet to my left.

  A gateway – or rather a portal – opened before my eyes.
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  “Come on,” Lynne said. “Let's go.” She climbed through and disappeared.

  I followed.

  * * *

  We emerged into what looked like an apartment. There wasn't anything particularly unusual about it; your standard flat. We apparently were in the living room; there was a couch, love seat, what looked like a plasma television set, bookshelves, a coffee table.

  The portal we had entered closed.

  Lynne smiled. “Have a seat and I'll try my best to explain everything to you. Would you like something to drink?” She motioned towards the couch.

  I sat. “Sure, although I wouldn't know what to ask for here. Things are a bit...different than what I'm used to.”

  “Yes, things are different, I'm sure. You do have soda in your world? Tea? Coffee?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, we have all of those things. How about coffee?”

  “Fine. I'll put some on.” She headed off to what probably was the kitchen.

  I relaxed. Part of me still wasn't convinced that any of this was real. Surely I was back at home, sleeping (finally) and this all was a bad dream.

  Of course, it wasn't.

  Lynne returned a few minutes later with two mugs. She handed one to me. “It's instant, hope that's okay.”

  “Sure, it's fine,” I said, and took a sip. And was floored by the fact that, for instant coffee, it tasted amazing. “You didn't brew this?” I asked.

  “Like I said, things are a bit different here.”

  “Clearly I have no idea of what's going on, or why. I'm not even sure what questions to ask. Why would the government want to track people like me down? The cop I spoke to said I'd be 'banished,' what does he mean by that?”

  Lynne took a drink of her coffee. “There are people here – and in your world – who can open what we call 'portals' here. In my case I can portal jump within my own world. You can portal jump from your world to this world. Others can travel between multiple worlds.”

  “How is it even possible?”

  “No one is really sure. It has something to do with how we perceive reality. There isn't really a simple explanation. It's like you're tuned into a kind of...frequency that allows you to access a portal.”

  “But you...didn't you just...summon one?”

  “I did. Some of us have that ability.”

  “But why would the police here want to track us down?”

  “Scientists in this world believe that when someone from a different world – what's really a parallel universe – to our world it creates disturbances.”

  “What kinds of disturbances?”

  Lynne sighed. “No one really knows. The thought is your actions in this world can have major consequences. Have you ever heard about chaos theory?”

  I laughed. “My whole life right now is in chaos. I'm not sure.”

  “The thought is, if a butterfly flaps its wings, somewhere else in the world this will create a thunderstorm. Since you don't 'belong' in this world, the thought is whatever you do can have a similar effect, only on a greater scale.”

  “What about this 'banishment' thing?”

  “The government has access to its own portal technology. It can control where these portals open to. What they can do is set it to a sort of 'null' setting, meaning once you enter you'd never emerge.”

  I frowned. “Christ, I don't understand any of this. I don't even know how to find one of these portals. Can't you open one for me and send me home?”

  Lynne smiled. “Sorry, mine only work within this world. The others I know who can portal jump can open portals to other locations, but none of them can open one to your world.”

  “The cop said something about an identi-chip...”

  “When we're born, a chip is implanted into our skulls. It identifies us as citizens of this country.”

  “And what country is this?”

  “In your world, you have the United States and Canada, correct?”

  “Sure,” I said. “How do you know so much about my world?”

  “I've met others like you, portal jumpers from your world. In my world, Canada sided with Japan in what you call World War II. The United States were crushed and Canada annexed your country. We just extended each province accordingly. Right now you're in British Columbia.”

  “That's what we call it in my world,” I said. “Fair enough. But how would your police force know that I had come here?”

  “The portals can be detected. The government has equipment that scans for these...temporal disturbances, and since portal jumping is illegal, they'll send police to investigate. Sometimes, portals open on their own.”

  “I dealt with an unpleasant fellow named Thomas.”

  Lynne frowned. “He's the worst one. He heads the agency that tracks and banishes portal jumpers.”

  “If the government can monitor these portals, can't they monitor the one you opened? Shouldn't they be coming this way?”

  “I am very unique in that I can mask – for a few seconds – the temporal signature of my portal. But if something ever happened to me – say I was knocked out – my portal would remain open long enough for them to track it, before it collapsed.”

  “You know, this all sounds insane,” I said.

  “Yes, it does,” she smiled.

  “How is it that I can even...possess the ability to see these things?”

  “How's your sleep been?”

  I laughed. “Terrible. I've been an insomniac for years. I've gone on virtually no sleep for the past month.”

  Lynne nodded. “That's common with a lot of portal jumpers. People think that the lack of sleep actually does something to effect your perception; the thought is it awakens your senses to be able to see a portal.”

  “This all seems like a bad episode of Star Trek,” I sighed. “And now I'm stuck here facing this...banishment business.”

  “Don't worry about being banished,” Lynne said. “And what is Star Trek?”

  I smiled. “A science fiction show in my world. What now?”

  “Now,” she said, “We need to get you an identi-chip so you can...”

  Suddenly, a thumping on the door.

  “THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF TRAVELER AFFAIRS!” a voice boomed. “WE KNOW YOU ARE HARBORING A TRAVELER! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!”

  I stood up. “What the hell? How did they find us?”

  “I don't know,” Lynne exclaimed.

  The pounding on the door continued.

  A few seconds later, the light shimmered; a portal opened.

  Lynne grabbed my arm. “Go! I'll catch up to you!”

  “But..where...”

  “There's no time! GO!”

  I ran through the portal.

  * * *

  I emerged on a beach. The sun was bright and warm; the water ahead of me was a clear light blue.

  I was alone.

  At least, alone for the time being. I didn't know if Lynne was going to show up or not, and I felt very exposed out there.

  If this world's government could detect the appearance of these portals, it stood to reason someone would be dispatched here to investigate.

  I gazed up into the clear sky. It was one of those days where you could still see the moon in the daylight.

  After a few seconds of sky-gazing I noticed something:

  There were two moons in this world's sky.

  I'm never going to get used to this, I thought. I really needed to get off of this beach.

  Thinking this, the silence was broken by the sound of something: the unmistakable whirring of helicopter blades.

  Approaching me was, indeed, a helicopter, a few hundred feet up.

  The first thought that ran through my mind was, how are they so fucking fast here?

  Running away was pointless.

  The helicopter approached and descended. As it did, a voice cried out over a loudspeaker:

  “THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF TRAVELER AFFAIRS. YOU ARE SURROUNDED. DROP TO THE GROUND AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD.”
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br />   Police officers, a dozen of them, swarming the beach.

  “DO IT NOW. THERE WILL NOT BE ANOTHER WARNING.”

  I did as instructed. Shortly after, my hands were roughly grabbed and placed into handcuffs.

  “Get up,” a voice hissed. “You are under arrest for violations of the Unauthorized Travelers Act, a crime punishable by banishment.”

  I got to my feet. I was surrounded by police officers, or agents, or whatever it was they were in this world.

  And the man who had put the handcuffs on me? Officer Thomas, of course.

  “I told you we'd get you,” he hissed. “What, you didn't believe me?”

  “I'm not going to say anything until I can speak to a lawyer.”

  Thomas laughed. “You don't get a lawyer. When we get you to the station and scan you, the very fact that you're not going to have an identi-chip is going to mean you're guilty. Justice is swift here, you'll discover. You'll be banished in 48 hours.”

  “I don't even know what's going on,” I said. This, I knew, sounded stupid, but I felt incapable of intelligent speech. “I didn't want to come here! I just found your world by accident. Can't you just let me go home?”

  Thomas pulled my arm. Up ahead was a road with half a dozen police cruisers, lights flashing. “If we let you go home, you could do even greater damage than you already have.” He called out to one of the other officers who circled us. “Officer Tracy. Do you still have the news reader?” he asked of a young female officer.

  “Sure do, boss,” she said. “It's in the car. I always keep mine handy.”

  “Go get it,” Thomas ordered. “This traveler still doesn't get it.”

  She trotted off to her squad car. Thomas was pulling me in the direction of what looked like a large, armored Humvee.

  The female officer, Tracy, went to her vehicle and came back moments later. She handed Thomas a a rectangular plastic object – it looked like one of the electronic book readers from my world.

  Thomas punched some buttons, nodded, and said, “Look at this.” He held up the device in front of my face.

  A headline screamed out: HURRICANE DEVASTATES VANCOUVER; DOZENS FEARED DEAD

  “Do you get it, now?” Thomas asked, handing the reader back to Tracy.

  “No, I don't,” I said, although I had a sinking feeling that I did.

  “Want to try and guess when the last time a hurricane hit Vancouver?”