SECOND EARTH SECOND EARTH “I’m sorry,” Courtney said as she put the pages down.
Bobby was lying on the floor. He wasn’t used to sitting on soft furniture anymore. “Don’t be,” he said. “I only have myself to blame for what happened.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Courtney said. “But what I meant was, I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”
“What’s that?” Bobby asked.
“You need a break. I’m not going to give it to you. I’ve got to tell you what’s been happening here. It’s only going to make it worse.”
Courtney spent the next hour telling Bobby all that had happened since they left each other as the flume collapsed on Eelong. She didn’t leave out a single detail, telling him how no time had passed while they were on Eelong; about the depression she went into after learning of Kasha’s death; about her recovery at summer school, and of course, about Whitney Wilcox. She told him the whole story of Andy Mitchell and how he joined Mark’s science club, and how they became friends and ultimately how he helped Mark save her life. She told Bobby all about the science project that he and Mark had worked on and how Mark’s parents were killed in the plane tragedy.
The hardest part of all was telling Bobby how Andy Mitchell was Saint Dane all along. From the time they were kids. She ended by telling Bobby that after learning of the tragic death of his parents, Mark jumped into the flume with Andy Mitchell. With Saint Dane. Where? She didn’t know.
Bobby listened to the whole story without saying a word. Courtney saw him wince a few times, but he never interrupted. She ended her story by explaining how, after she had been pulled into the flume and dumped back on Second Earth, strange things had appeared, like the talking cat and the impossible computer and the pepper spray that wasn’t pepper spray. When she finished, she sat back on the couch, exhausted. The two sat there for the longest time, not saying a word. Courtney knew that Bobby needed time to digest all that she had told him.
Finally Courtney said, “I know you came home to get away, but I don’t think a place exists to get away anymore.”
Bobby nodded. Courtney could tell he was rolling all the events around in his head.
“Let’s take this slowly,” he said. “We first need to confirm some things. Are you with me?”
“You know I am,” Courtney said.
The first order of business was to get Bobby better clothes. Courtney’s dad was roughly Bobby’s size, so she raided his room. She got Bobby better jeans and a shirt that fit him. It was cold out, so she also grabbed a Polarfleece jacket that her dad wore hiking. She thought that Bobby looked way better, and more importantly, wouldn’t get a second glance from anybody. The mystery of what had happened to Bobby and the Pendragons was still out there. People didn’t talk about it every day anymore, but the police investigation was still ongoing. It wouldn’t be a good thing for him to be recognized. But Bobby had grown so much that Courtney was pretty sure nobody would recognize him. Just to be safe, she grabbed a pair of her dad’s sunglasses. The illusion was complete. No way did he look like the fourteen-year-old Bobby who had disappeared three years earlier.
Even though both of them were old enough, neither had gotten their driver’s licenses. Courtney had been dealing with too many issues to take the time, and there weren’t any driver’s ed classes being taught on Eelong, Zadaa, or Quillan. That meant to get around they had to ride bikes. Courtney rode hers and Bobby borrowed her dad’s.
“Hey,” Bobby said as they started to pedal. “It’s just like riding a bike.”
Courtney laughed. For that one instant she felt as if things were back to normal. Bobby was making dumb jokes and they were riding bikes through Stony Brook. Courtney allowed herself to pretend life hadn’t changed, if only for a few precious minutes.
Their first stop was at the florist shop that was run by Andy Mitchell’s uncle. It was gone. There was an empty lot where the building once stood. Neither Bobby nor Courtney said a word. Neither was surprised. The next stop was Glenville School, the grammar school where Bobby, Courtney, Mark, and Andy Mitchell had all gone. Bobby waited outside while Courtney went in to the office and spoke to the secretary, explaining how Andy Mitchell was going to some big science fair in Orlando, and she was doing a piece on him for the high school paper and could she please look through some of the old records for pictures and whatnot of Andy? The secretary said she couldn’t give out official records, but she’d look to see what she could find.
Fifteen minutes later she returned with strange news that wasn’t strange to Courtney at all. There was no record of Andy Mitchell. Nothing. Zero. The secretary didn’t understand, because she remembered Andy very well. She’d caught him smoking in the boys’ room more than once. The woman wanted to keep talking, but Courtney had heard enough. She thanked the woman and left.
Bobby and Courtney rode to Stony Brook Avenue, where they bought a couple of boxes of golden fries and cans of Coke from Garden Poultry Deli. The sun had warmed the day up enough so they could sit in the pocket park near the deli and enjoy their greasy-delicious lunch while they talked.
“So it’s true,” Bobby said. “Saint Dane was Andy Mitchell the whole time. I always hated that guy. He was such a tool to Mark.”
“It’s scary to think he was watching us our whole lives,” Courtney said. “He’s been plotting this for years.”
“What was that science project they were working on again?” Bobby asked.
“They called it ‘Forge.’ It looked like a hunk of Play-Doh, but it was voice activated. You told it what shape you wanted it to be, and it turned into it. It was pretty incredible. Do you think that’s significant?”
“I think everything is significant,” Bobby said. “Do you still have that pepper spray?”
Courtney reached into her pack and took out a silver canister.
“That is not the same thing I put in my pocket when I left this morning,” she said.
Bobby looked around to see if anybody was watching. He pointed the canister at a sculpture of an owl that was carved out of wood, and pressed the trigger.
Fum!
The owl was knocked off its perch.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Courtney said.
Bobby handed her back the canister and said, “I have. On Quillan. That’s the same kind of weapon the dados used.”
Courtney looked at the canister like it was an alien creature—because it was.
“How did it get here?” she said in awe. “And how did it get in my pocket?”
“Something happened when you went through the flume,” Bobby said. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Courtney said.
“Somebody did,” Bobby said. “You came back at the exact same time you left, but things were different. Somehow, technology has changed.”
“But nobody else notices!” Courtney exclaimed. “That car seat was definitely not the same, but my father didn’t know it. And my mother doesn’t even know how to turn on the computer, let alone send video messages from work.”
“That’s because things haven’t changed, for them,” Bobby said. “But you weren’t here for it. You were in the flume.”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“It means somebody’s been messing with the past,” Bobby said. “Let’s go.”
They got on their bikes and went right to the National Bank of Stony Brook, where Courtney put Bobby’s journals in the safe-deposit box with all the others. With that done, their plan was to go back to Courtney’s house, but Bobby wanted to take a quick detour. He wanted to ride by the spot where his house used to be. The house he grew up in. The house that disappeared when he left home. Courtney tried to talk him out of it, but Bobby’s mind was made up.
When they got to 2 Linden Place, Bobby saw why Courtney didn’t want him to come back. Someone had taken over the property. A house was being built. It was a modern-looking building, nothing like the classic old farmhouse where Bobby had lived with his family for the first fourteen years of his life. Bobby stood across the street, staring at the place that was so familiar, and so wrong.
“You okay?” Courtney asked.
“He said I was an illusion,” Bobby said softly. “Maybe he was right.”
“You’re not an illusion, Bobby Pendragon!” Courtney scolded as she grabbed his arm. “I can touch you. I can hear you. Everything you do has an effect on physical reality. That doesn’t sound like an illusion to me.”
“No?” Bobby asked. “Then what am I?”
Courtney started to answer, but stopped. The truth was, she didn’t know.
They pedaled back to Courtney’s house silently. Once inside, Bobby examined the strange new computer that had appeared in the living room.
“I’m not a computer geek,” he said. “But I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“I’m less freaked about the computer than I am about the cat,” Courtney said.
Bobby spotted the black cat lying on a windowsill, sunning itself. They both walked over to it. Bobby tentatively reached out and rubbed his hand across the cat’s belly. The cat purred.
“Nice,” the cat said dreamily.
Bobby whipped his hand back.
“That’s just creepy,” he said. He reached out again and rubbed the cat’s belly again. He didn’t so much stroke the cat, as examine it. After a few seconds he announced, “It’s not real. I mean, it’s not a living thing. Feel.”
“No thanks,” Courtney said.
“Go ahead, I won’t bite,” the cat said.
Courtney shot Bobby a look, then cautiously reached out and stroked the cat’s belly. “It’s not soft. It feels . . . stiff.”
“It’s mechanical,” Bobby said.
Courtney said, “I don’t know what’s weirder, a talking cat or a mechanical cat.”
“There’s no mystery,” Bobby said. “I’ve seen this. That pepper-spray weapon and this cat—they’re technology from Quillan.”
“Is that it?” Courtney said with surprise. “Has Saint Dane somehow brought Quillan technology to Second Earth?”
“I believe it,” Bobby said, pacing. “He’s trying to break down the barriers between territories. Whatever happened here, the natural evolution of Second Earth has been altered. Every time something new is introduced, a shift is bound to happen. This is nothing. What happens when he stumbles on something that causes a catastrophic change? He might create some mutant strain of disease, or natural disaster. One territory could effect the next and the next until—”
“The Convergence,” Courtney said.
“Yeah,” Bobby said. “The Convergence.”
“What could it be?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t know,” Bobby said. “But Saint Dane and Nevva were pretty sure that it was inevitable.”
The two fell silent.
Courtney had been standing with her hand on the cat’s belly. Suddenly she yelped and pulled her hand away.
“What?” Bobby asked.
“I must have hit something,” she said. “Look.”
A panel had ejected from the cat’s belly, like a drawer. It was a flat white panel with writing on it.
“What is it?” Bobby asked.
Courtney leaned down and took a close look. The cat continued to purr, oblivious.
“Man, this is strange,” she said. “It’s product information. There’s care instructions, it says where to call for service, and—”
Courtney stopped talking. Bobby watched her, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t.
“What?” Bobby finally asked.
Courtney spoke slowly, saying, “There’s a trademark. It has the name of the company that built this thing.”
“Yeah? What is it?” Bobby asked impatiently.
Courtney’s voice was quivering. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“Tell me!” Bobby insisted.
“The name of the company that made this cat is the Dimond Alpha Digital Organization.”
“Dimond?” Bobby repeated. “Spelled like—”
“Yeah, spelled like Mark,” she said.
Bobby paced nervously. “It could be a coincidence,” he said hopefully. “Dimond’s not a hugely common name, but it’s not unheard of, either.”
“Are you not getting it?” Courtney complained.
“Yeah, I’m getting it!” Bobby said. “Dimond, Mark Dimond. We can’t jump to the conclusion that Mark had anything to do with this.”
“Bobby!” Courtney yelled with frustration. “Maybe Mark had something to do with this and maybe he didn’t. But look at the name of the company.”
Bobby leaned down to the cat and read the trademark. “Yeah, I heard you, Dimond Alpha—” Bobby cut himself off. He looked at Courtney.
Courtney finished the thought, “Digital Organization. D-A-D-O. Dado.”
The two stared at each other for several seconds, then Bobby said, “I’m going to the flume.”
“To go where?” Courtney asked.
“To find Mark,” he said.
“I’m going with you,” Courtney said.
“You can’t!” Bobby argued.
“Yes I can!” Courtney shot back. “I read what Saint Dane said. I can use the flume as long as I’m with a Traveler. That’s you.”
“Courtney, first off, I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“I’m already in danger!” she countered. “I spent a whole lot of months in the hospital, remember?”
“And you’re still recovering.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your place is here, on Second Earth,” Bobby argued.
“It’s not just about Second Earth anymore, Bobby!” Courtney shouted. “It’s all coming together. I know what you’re thinking. Whatever Saint Dane did with Mark, they somehow altered the course of events on Second Earth. That’s why things are different. If I’m going to help you protect Second Earth, we’ve got to find Mark, and Mark . . . isn’t . . . here.”
“If you went with me, I’d be no better than Saint Dane,” Bobby said. “I’d be mixing the territories too.”
“They’re already mixed!” Courtney shouted. “This freakin’ robocat is proof of that. And I hate to say that Saint Dane’s right, but every time you go to a territory, you’re kind of mixing things up yourself, aren’t you?”
Bobby stared at Courtney. Her words were harsh, but hit him. “Is that true?” he said. “Did I do exactly what Uncle Press told me not to do?”
“I don’t know, Bobby—”
“But if we can’t do anything, what’s the purpose of the Travelers?”
“To stop Saint Dane,” Courtney said. “Any way you can. Any way we can.”
Bobby paced nervously and said, “Is it really possible that he convinced Mark to join him?”
“I don’t know,” Courtney said. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. Mark was vulnerable. His parents were killed. I can’t imagine where my head would be if I suddenly lost my parents.”
“Nevva lost her parents,” Bobby said. “It’s one of the things that drove her to Saint Dane.”
“We’ve got to find him, Bobby,” Courtney said. “You can’t go alone. I read how tough it was for you to be alone. Don’t do it again.”
Bobby rubbed his eyes angrily. He looked to Courtney like he wanted to scream.
“He’s my friend too,” Courtney said.
Shortly after, Courtney sat at her kitchen table with a pen and paper to write the impossible. She had to say “good-bye” to her parents. As she sat staring at the blank notepad, she had no idea how to put what she felt into words.
“We should go,” Bobby said.
Courtney wiped away her tears, gripped the pen, and simply wrote: “I love you both more than I can say. Try not to worry about me. I’ll see you soon. Courtney.” She folded the paper in two, placed it on the kitchen table where it was sure to be seen, and looked around the room. She wondered if she would ever see it again. Or her family.
“Second thoughts?” Bobby asked.
“Let’s go,” Courtney said.
Half an hour later the two were standing at the mouth of the flume, staring into infinity.
“How do you feel?” Bobby asked. “I mean, physically. You’ve been through hell.”
Courtney took a second to answer, as if she were doing a mental inventory of her injuries. “You know what I feel like?” she asked.
“Tell me.”
“I feel like all the work I did to heal was getting me ready for this,” she said with confidence. “I am so ready.”
Bobby smiled. That was pure Courtney.
“How is this gonna work?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t know,” Bobby said. “I guess we should just hold hands.”
Courtney took it and laughed. “Remember when we all went to the movies after that inter-city Little League game?”
“You mean the game I hit the homer off of you?” Bobby replied.
“And I struck you out three times,” Courtney shot back.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I worked it so that I could sit next to you in the theater because I was going to try and hold your hand,” Courtney confessed.
“But you didn’t.”
“I was scared.”
“You? Scared?” Bobby said jokingly. “I’ll bet that was the last time.”
Courtney laughed too, then got serious and said, “It wasn’t the last time. I’m scared right now. I’m going to do my best, Bobby, but I’ll never be like Loor.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bobby said. “Neither will I.”
They both chuckled at that.
“Do you really think Mark is on First Earth?” Courtney asked.
“Maybe,” Bobby said. “It would fit. But I wouldn’t know where to start looking for him, especially with Gunny gone. I think we’re doing the right thing, at least to start.”
“Me too,” Courtney said. “I’m scared, and totally excited.”
“Then let’s go,” Bobby said. He looked into the flume. “Ready?” he asked.
Courtney nodded.
Bobby called out, “Third Earth!”
The flume came to life. Both tensed up, fearing that the tunnel would crack the way it did the last time Courtney traveled. The light appeared from far in the distance and grew quickly. The jumble of sweet notes grew louder. The gray walls melted to crystal. . . .
Courtney stepped closer to Bobby and put her arms around him.
“I want to see the future,” she said.
“Good thing,” Bobby said. “You’re about to.”
The light engulfed them. Courtney squeezed Bobby tighter and said, “Hobey-ho. Let’s go.”
The light flashed white, and a moment later they were gone.
To Be Continued