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“I went through, once,” Matheson said. “When I came out it was the day before.”

  “You went through?” Thomas said. “What happened?”

  “I didn't stay long. I kind of freaked when I saw myself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I went through there were two of me. The one from the future and the one in the past. It's hard to wrap your brain around something like that.”

  “No kidding. Holy shit,” Thomas laughed. “You're right, this is insane.”

  “Once I saw myself I left. All I had to do was imagine it was the present and I was able to come back to the point where I had went through.”

  As Matheson said this, the odd crinkling sound became audible, and the portal simply ceased to exist. “It goes away once you step through it, but if you don't, it'll just collapse on its own.”

  “And no one else knows about this?” Thomas said.

  “No one,” Matheson said. “I don't know what I'd say, or who I'd tell. But,” Matheson added, “I don't think I'm the only one that can do this.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  Matheson frowned. “I don't know, it's more like an intuition. It's all insane! How is something like this even possible?”

  “Some things you can't explain,” Thomas replied. “Let's go back in and finish our drinks.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  In the days that followed, Thomas and Matheson found themselves in a somewhat comforting, albeit stressful routine: they flew combat missions for 24-hour periods, and then a schedule of 12 on/12 off, although that wasn't always the case.

  The somewhat timid young man off-duty was replaced by a capable, if serious, co-pilot, and Thomas was glad to be flying with him; he had flown with many co-pilots, most of them cocky young men who thought they knew all about the world by their 25th birthday.

  The battlefield was also expanding, beyond Saudi Arabia and into places like Yemen and even into Africa. And while the military forces they encountered were not at the same level of technology and fire power, they were still formidable opponents; one of the fighter jets had been shot down by missile, although the pilots were able to eject and were quickly picked up.

  In their off hours they spent time at the officer's club, or just stayed in their room, sending emails home and watching television. The satellite feed picked up stations from Europe. Matheson inquired about picking up a video game system, and much to Thomas' amusement, he played it often when they weren't on duty.

  While the casualties were low, the squadron had already lost two pilots; the losses were also picking up for the ground troops.

  They also talked about Matheson's seemingly inexplicable ability to rip open the fabric of time and space. Thomas encouraged experimentation.

  One afternoon, he wanted to see how much control Matheson had.

  “What about just opening one to the officer's club?” Thomas suggested. “To that back area. No time travel stuff. What do you think?”

  “I suppose,” Matheson said. “But what if this is a...bad thing? Maybe the universe wasn't meant to be screwed with like this.”

  “If it's bad, how come you can do it?” Thomas countered. “And you think others can, as well.”

  “The fact that we can do it doesn't necessarily make it right, you know?”

  Thomas laughed. “Charles, you take this stuff so seriously! I'm sure the universe can take care of itself. It's going to be here long after we're gone.”

  “I guess,” Matheson said. “Okay. Give me a minute.”

  He concentrated, and after a few moments Thomas could hear the odd crinkling sound; the portal suddenly shimmered into life.

  Thomas peered through it. It was the back of the officer's club. “Good job. Now we should go through it.”

  Matheson recoiled. “That seems like a really bad idea.”

  “It'll be fine,” Thomas said. “What's life without taking a chance?”

  “I don't know,” Matheson said doubtfully. “This seems like a big chance, to me.”

  “I'm going through,” Thomas said. “How about you meet me at the club?”

  Matheson sighed. “If you say so, sir.”

  “I do say so, but enough with the 'sir.' I'll see you on the other side.” With that he stepped through; the portal immediately collapsed.

  Thomas was gone.

  Matheson left the room and walked the 15-minute walk to the officer's club. Despite the fact that it was evening, it was still stifling hot, and by the time he reached the club he was feeling the heat.

  He wasn't all that surprised to find Thomas wasn't waiting for him behind the club; Matheson walked into the club, and found Thomas sitting at their usual table, drinking a beer.

  “You made it,” Matheson said, relieved, as he sat down.

  “Of course I did!” Thomas said. “What did you think was going to happen?”

  “There's no telling,” Matheson said. “I mean, I could have opened up a portal to a completely different world that just happened to look like this one.”

  “What, do you mean a...what do they call it in science fiction?”

  “A parallel world,” Matheson said.

  “You think that's possible?” Thomas said.

  Matheson shrugged. “Why not? None of this is possible yet I'm doing it, so it seems just as likely that I could open one to a different world.”

  Thomas nodded. “Sure. Makes sense. And you've gone through the portals, right?”

  “Once or twice,” Matheson replied. “I didn't like it.”

  “What was it like for you? When I went through there was a moment where it felt like...well, like every inch of skin was asleep, you know? There was this odd sensation, but it passed quickly.”

  “That's what it was like for me. Like my hands and feet had fallen asleep.”

  “I think you need to tell the brass about this.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am,” Thomas said. “What you can do can change the course of this war. We could end it in quickly. We could send troops through and directly to where His Highness is holding up. No more deaths. Capture that bastard and end it all.”

  Matheson looked horrified at this. “I can't! They can't know about me! Wouldn't they want to just lock me up and study me? Figure out how I can do this?”

  “No one is going to lock you up,” Thomas said. “If there are others maybe they'll come forward. Imagine, a whole group of you! It's your duty.”

  “Here's the thing,” Matheson said. “I have no idea what kind of, well, impact...this might be having on the world. You went to the academy; they cover physics there. Do you remember chaos theory?”

  “Sure,” Thomas said. “But it's just that – a theory.”

  “How do I know that, when this...gateway, or portal, or whatever, is opened, it's not like a butterfly flapping its wings and causing an earthquake thousands of miles away?”

  Thomas sighed. “I get your point. Don't you think something like this should be studied?”

  “Maybe it already is being studied,” Matheson replied. “If there are others, they might have already come forward. But I'm not ready to do that. I need to be able to control it. I can't always do it. And when I do, it gives me a headache. What if by doing this I end up giving myself a tumor?”

  “Lots of what-ifs,” Thomas said. “But I agree with you: you should be able to control it. There could come a day when you're forced to do it.”

  “Yeah, I've thought of that,” Matheson said. “That's kind of another reason why I don't want this getting out, at least not yet.”

  “Don't worry,” Thomas said. “I'm not going to tell anyone.”

  * * *

  Their routine remained the same for the next several weeks; combat operations continued, and the pilots and crew pushed themselves to exhaustion. The conflict was reaching a major turning point.

  While casualties continued to remain low, the squadron experienced the occasional loss of aircraft and life. Thomas a
nd Matheson had racked up an impressive kill streak, although it was more impressive to Thomas than to Matheson, who in his restless nights was coming to wish that he hadn't joined up. He could never tell any of his squad mates this, particularly Thomas, but with each mission he felt an increasing dread and guilt over what they were doing. As good as the intelligence could be, there were sometimes mistakes, and a number of civilian targets had been hit. This “collateral damage” as it was known gave Matheson nightmares when he did manage to get some sleep.

  During their off-duty hours, Thomas and Matheson spent many hours at the officer's club, a routine that was comforting to Thomas and troublesome to Matheson, who didn't drink, and was dismayed to see just how much his fellow pilots drank when they weren't flying.

  Thomas also ran Matheson through exercises to help give the young pilot some control over his strange gift; visualization exercises and sessions where Thomas guided Matheson over creating specific kinds of portals.

  “Can you get it to a very specific location?” Thomas asked one day.

  “Possibly,” Matheson said doubtfully.

  “I know you can get it open to a general area, but I want you to try and open one to an exact location. Can you do one inside our jet?”

  “I can try,” Matheson said. “But that's such a small area. I mean, what if coming out the other end you've materialized half in and half out of the jet?”

  “Let's just see if you can do it,” Thomas said.

  Matheson tried; he concentrated, and after a few moments a portal opened.

  Thomas peered through it. It looked like it was going to the right place.

  “I'm going to go through,” Thomas said.

  “Are you sure?” Matheson said nervously.

  “Sure I am,” Thomas said. “See you on the other side. You follow me through. Put up another one so you end up next to the plane.”

  “Okay,” Matheson said. “See you there.”

  Thomas stepped through, and the portal closed behind him.

  Matheson concentrated again, this time opening a portal (he hoped) right next to the jet they flew in.

  He stepped through, emerging on the tarmac; the desert heat surprised his body, which had just a second ago been in the relative cool of his barracks room with its air conditioning.

  He glanced nervously around; no one else was in the area. He didn't want anyone to see him and Thomas emerge out of nothing.

  Matheson looked up at the cockpit; Thomas was there, in the pilot's chair, giving him a thumbs up. After a moment Thomas climbed out and stepped down to the tarmac next to Matheson.

  “See? No worries,” Thomas said, clapping Matheson on the back. “And the funny thing is, I came out already in a sitting position!”

  “That's good,” Matheson replied. “But you still could have come through half-materialized in the cockpit.”

  “Maybe,” Thomas said. “Maybe not. But I don't think that would ever happen. You come up with a lot of worst case scenarios, Charles.”

  “It's hard not to,” he said. “I barely understand what it is I'm doing. It's all a bunch of unknowns, isn't it?”

  “It is,” Thomas said. “But the more you do it, the better you'll understand it.” He paused for a moment. “You said you could open up one to the past; can you open one to the future?”

  “I don't know,” Matheson said. “I've never tried that. I'm not sure if it's even possible.”

  “Why?”

  “If the future hasn't happened yet, how could I go to it?”

  “Well, if you've gone back to the past, aren't you going to the future when you return to the present?”

  Matheson laughed. “My head is spinning. Like I said, I don't know how this all works or what the rules are.”

  “You should try,” Thomas said. “Try opening one to the future.”

  “To the future,” Matheson repeated. “Well, what if I did, and I couldn't come back? I have no idea what would happen if I tried.”

  “Yeah, I see your point,” Thomas said. “It's probably a bad idea.”

  But Thomas wondered.

  Such power, he thought. And it's all concentrated in someone who doesn't want it!

  He wanted it.

  This bothered him at times, this lust for power; it wasn't in his nature. Still, as time progressed, he felt this urge stronger and stronger within him. Thomas imagined all he could do to help the world if he had Matheson's amazing ability.

  And then there was the possibility that others had the same power. What a force to contend with, Thomas thought, if all of them worked together towards a common purpose!

  The bigger issue was, how would he find these individuals?

  A group that powerful. With a leader to guide them.

  The possibilities sometimes kept him awake at night, with the occasional insomnia to match Matheson. In the hours when they couldn't sleep, the two of them spent a lot of time talking, and Thomas' admiration for the young man grew.

  They had been in Iraq for three months when it was announced that an agreement had been reached on a cease fire. A no-fly zone was declared, and the fighter pilots were tasked with enforcing this zone. Most of the pilots were secretly relieved that hostilities had ended, and they talked about the possibility of going home to family and friends.

  The insomnia Thomas had been experiencing was getting worse, and he was worried that it would soon interfere with his ability to fly his plane; he didn't want to be grounded. He knew many pilots who took caffeine tablets like candy to stay awake, and none of them would report to the flight surgeon as they also feared being grounded.

  In their off hours, Thomas guided Matheson in using his ability; Matheson was getting quite good at it.

  And it was during these times that Thomas started to notice a strange halo of light surrounding Matheson.

  At first he ignored it, thinking it some weird side effect of the insomnia. When Matheson started to concentrate, his body was surrounded by a bluish glow, which intensified when the portal materialized. When the portal collapsed, the aura around Matheson would fade; Thomas only saw it when his partner was creating the portal.

  The insomnia for Thomas didn't last long, and even after returning to a regular sleep schedule, he continued to see the aura whenever Matheson did his thing.

  And Thomas began to wonder: was this how he would find the others? Did they all have these auras?

  Maybe they did.

  On occasion, instead of helping Matheson with his ability (and frankly, Thomas thought, he doesn't really need any more guidance), Thomas wandered the base, wondering if he'd see that aura – or something similar.

  He wandered for hours, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

  A fool's errand, he thought. It's so hot outside, they're mostly going to be inside where it's cool.

  And so he checked the indoors locations: the makeshift movie theater, the mess hall, the post exchange, the library. He didn't find what he was looking for.

  He was about to give up one day – he had practically searched the entire air base – when, finally, he saw what he was looking for.

  It was dusk; he had been walking back to his barracks room, and as he passed a Quonset hut, he could actually see through the walls an orange glow. It occurred to him that, if the people who could do what Matheson did created an aura of light around themselves, it stood to reason that it would be a different color for each individual.

  He stopped, and pondered what to do next. The direct approach, he thought, would be the way to go.

  The individual rooms were inside the Quonset hut; Thomas opened the door and stepped through.

  He could still see the glow in a room off to his left, and as he approached that room, the glow faded.

  The door to the room had a small sign: LT REYNOLDS/CPT LEWIS

  Thomas knocked on the door. After a moment the door was opened by a young man of Matheson's age. “Yes?” he said.

  “Are you leftenant Reynolds?” Thomas asked.
<
br />   “Yes, sir,” said Reynolds; he knew who Thomas was.

  “Jeff Thomas,” Thomas said. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  * * *

  After meeting Reynolds, it didn't take Thomas long to track down other individuals who could, as Reynolds put it, “portal jump.” Reynolds, in fact, knew a few others.

  Eventually Thomas came to know a total of six individuals (including Matheson) with the ability to create portals. Thomas discovered that each of them seemed to have a specific ability; one could create a portal to what he thought was a completely different world; another could create massively huge portals that a whole platoon could drive through.

  Only one of them could create one that went through time, and it seemed his ability to do so was limited; he thought he could only go back at most 24 hours in the past.

  Thomas came to realize that Matheson was the most powerful one of all these individuals; not only could he create a portal to seemingly any location (including different worlds, although Matheson never liked doing so) but also through any point in the past. And possibly the future, despite his protests to the contrary.

  In speaking to the others, Thomas kept this bit of information to himself.

  He also didn't tell his partner that he had met others with the same ability – or, more accurately, variations of the same ability Matheson had.

  Thomas also began, in his mind, formulating a plan to lead this group. He'd have to go to the higher-ups, at some point, to tell them of his discovery, and demonstrate for them just what they were capable of.

  So many possibilities! Thomas spent many hours considering those possibilities. An end to war, an end to hunger. A way to revolutionize the transport of goods. This discovery could change the world.

  And Thomas would lead them, this group of extraordinary individuals; he would guide them towards a future that would change the world.

  During this period, Thomas and Matheson spent less time together off-duty, which didn't particularly bother the younger pilot; he was a naturally solitary person, and he spent his free time reading, or playing a video game, or sending emails home. They still got together for a beer at the officer's club and, on occasion, to go through one of Thomas' practice drills.