CROWELL

30 My dad and I stared at Vanderberg Parr and waited for him to go on. He’d gone absolutely still; he was accessing his Ultra database.

“About ‘that,’” I said. “About what?”

Parr came back to us, eyes front and center. “About travel within the Ultra universe. Now that we’re here, and the Ultras have access to this matter-bubble, we can initiate a process by which you could literally leave here with me and walk straight to the Exeter.”

I blinked. “Meaning?”

“Less boredom. See the sights. Didn’t you tell me earlier I’d be able to explore the universe? And I’d have friends.”

“So how would that work?” I asked. “Become a hybrid? Wear a protective antimatter suit?” Those inflatable Halloween costumes are real lifelike, and I’ve got one just your size.

“Easy. We set you up like they did Baren Rieser,” Parr said.

“Excuse me?”

“You’d look good bald.”

“You mean get the nano-ink head tattoos?”

“There’s a limit to the number of inked sections we can fit, safely, but yes. If you’re willing.”

“Hold on. Didn’t Rieser use the tattoos to move between universes to avoid the aging process? Can’t I use them in that way to go home?”

Parr shook his head. “Not without the tether. The distance is far too great now. For smaller jumps from here to the Exeter, however, the tattoos will work fine for you.”

“My dad too?”

“I believe the Ultras might not let him go, considering their fascination with him. Always learning, the Ultras, even on the brink of their own extinction.”

I looked at my dad, and he smiled warmly. “You could always come visit, I suppose,” he said, “or finish up here when you’re down to your last tattoo.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Dad, the much younger man now, had his life ahead of him, and I was the one who might live just a few years more. My dad wouldn’t want to spend the rest of his life doing nothing, but to keep moving, and use every moment of his life to gain knowledge and wisdom.

“I’m barely the same man I was two years ago,” I said, “changed in more ways than one.”

Parr was his own good example of that. Brindos, too, when he became a Helk. We are who we are, but identity is never in stone, always in flux, and there exists an ultra-thin line between our original mold and the next copy.

“You’re the same on the inside, Dave,” my dad said.

“I don’t think that’s entirely true anymore.”

“Do you want to do this?” he asked.

I came to a decision. “Yes. What’s another alteration cost me except whatever hair I have left?”

Through Parr’s hybrid connection and my dad’s own communicative setup—in digital shill mode—the Ultras confirmed Lucky Lawrence would stay put, and I had the go ahead to travel with Parr aboard the Exeter.

It made me sad to hear Dad would have to stay.

Parr left the matter-bubble to gather the nano-ink and tools needed to transform my head into an antimatter travel map. Meanwhile, Dad and I had more time to talk about all the things our last discussion hadn’t covered. This time, I talked more about the Ultras from the Union’s perspective, as well as my own, outlining much of what had happened to my friends and me: on Earth, Temonus, Aryell, Helkuntannas, and Barnard’s World.

He was particularly interested in my relationships with Forno, Dorie, and Jennifer Lisle, none of whom had ever played into the complex plans of the Ultras, but he also asked about Plenko, the Science Consortium, and the Envoys. I told him as much as I could about them. He seemed to take in everything quite thoughtfully, as if knowing them vicariously through me might help him understand me more. I felt myself tiring, and I really wanted a good nap. I’d never taken a nap in my entire life, and I couldn’t deprive myself of this time with my dad.

He understood. We found ourselves more than once coming to each other for long hugs. The last time, just before Parr returned, my dad wept openly, his tears wetting my own cheeks. I cried inside, but it might’ve been because my tear ducts were for shit.

“It’s not even fair,” I said to him.

“They never are.”

“They?”

He smiled. “Goodbyes.”

Parr came back into the room, and I noticed immediately that he had none of the things he’d gone to retrieve.

“We’ve been here another hour—not that I haven’t relished the time with my dad—and you come back with nothing?”

“Not exactly nothing,” Parr said.

“Is it invisible?” my dad asked.

Parr smirked. “No. I’ve made inquiries to the Ultras and acquired new knowledge that has opened an alternate path that might amend our present plans.”

“I don’t think you could say that any more generically,” I said. “What the hell does that mean?”

Parr gave me a serious look. He did the Parr thing, a quick eye flick, a moment’s silence. “A solution to the problem of traveling between universes.”

“What?” I asked, completely taken aback. “You mean—me?”

“Remember when you and Forno found the Exeter? Well, you also figured out that there were more copies of it. This is true. Several others are in the same jump slot you traveled through before making your way to the sideways station. Using the Three of Swords to cross the gigantic gap between universes now means there’d be a solid anchor point: one of these other Exeters.”

I scratched my head, confused. “You’re saying I can go back without harm? Without aging?”

Parr shook his head. “No. I’m saying you’ll have an anchor point, which makes the prospect of surviving the trip much more likely. That is, if you start the process back on Rook, where you entered the Ultra universe. If you look at it with an evolutionary, DNA-lensed perspective, a change will happen, most certainly.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on,” I said.

Parr said, “But. It would be in the opposite direction. But not by much.”

The opposite direction. My brain caught on. Younger. I’d be goddamned younger.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

He put out his hand, palm down, and wiggled it. “Not quite.”

I groaned.

“The Ultras can also get you back close to the day and time you left the Union. This I didn’t know about, other than they have some sort of effect on time and relativity, and most of that science is still funneling into my consciousness.” He looked puzzled.

“I feel another ‘but’—”

“But—”

I waited for the next revelation.

He told me.

My dad hesitated, but I didn’t. I said, “What about the Ultras?”

“They agree.”

I nodded, looked at my dad, then back at Parr. “So when do we start?”

Parr said, “Right now.”

We did.