The Hunt for Dark Infinity

Chapter 4

The Spinner’s suction cup stuck to the middle of the wall with a simple push; the bent end of the “L” pointed toward the floor and swayed back and forth until it finally came to a rest.

“What now?” Tick asked.

“Spin it,” Paul said.

Sofia leaned forward and flicked the rod to make it spin, then stepped back. Without a word, the three of them quickly moved all the way to the other side of the room, pressing against the wall to watch. You couldn’t be too careful when it came to gadgets sent from Master George.

Strangely, the spinning metal rod didn’t slow at all, instead going so fast it appeared as a perfect circle of shimmering silver. A slight hum filled the room, like the soft sound of a ceiling fan. After several seconds, Tick’s eyes started to water as they tried to focus on something. Anything. Then the Spinner changed.

A red light flared from the tip of the metal rod, instantly creating a much larger circle that took up most of the wall, a hazy, flat disk of redness. Sofia gasped; Paul let out his usual, “Dude.” Tick could only stare.

“How’s it making a perfect circle?” Paul asked.

Sofia answered. “It must be shooting out some kind of scaled laser.”

“Ooh, like a light saber,” Paul said.

“But-” Tick stopped.

The red color faded from the projected, spinning disk, replaced by a large image of Master George, dressed in his dark suit, standing in front of a fireplace, staring out at them; he caressed Muffintops the cat in his arms. The picture quality was perfect-as good as any theater-it was just… round.

“My fondest greetings to the three of you,” Master George said. The sound of his voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, though slightly warbled. Tick couldn’t help but wonder what kind of speaker could have such power and still be so small-they certainly hadn’t noticed anything when they studied the Spinner a few minutes earlier.

Master George held out a hand. “Don’t attempt to reply-I assure you it will be a waste of your breath. This is only a recording, you see. Quite nice, don’t you think? The Spinner comes in handy when you get a bit depressed and want to watch an old black-and-white. It’s one of my favorite things. Although, it’s a bit difficult to use when you’re in a forest-particularly when you’re being chased by wolves …”

Tick exchanged a look with Sofia, both of them trying to hold in a laugh.

“Oh, dear, I’ve already gone off on a tangent,” Master George said, clearing his throat and growing very serious. “My apologies. There is a point, you see, to my sending you this Spinner. I must show you footage of something very frightening-something you must see and prepare yourselves to study with the greatest vigor. I want you to remember two words- entropy and fragmentation. These two things serve as our greatest challenge when studying the Realities; they are also the source of much heartache.”

Master George paused, looking past the camera or whatever was recording him. “Rutger, please put down that pastry-get ready to cut to the footage you filmed in the fragmenting Reality.” Master George focused back on Tick and the others. “No wonder I constantly find sticky goo on my camera. Now, I want you to watch closely. We have no sound, as Rutger had to get in and out very quickly and almost ruined the film entirely. I will narrate as you observe.”

The image on the circular screen changed. All three of them sucked in a quick breath when they saw Tick huddled next to a tree, shivering, his terrified eyes darting back and forth, looking all around him.

Tick swallowed. He was filthy in the film, his clothes ripped to shreds. Wind tore at his shaggy hair, and his bare feet were covered with grime. Of course, it couldn’t be him-it had to be someone who just looked like him. It had to be…

Master George’s narration cut off his thoughts. “Master Atticus, this trembling wretch is one of your Alterants-created last year when you made the choice to follow the Twelve Clues and solve my mystery. A branching reality was created in which you didn’t make that brave choice, and here you see the result.”

Tick felt like everything around him disappeared, his eyes riveted to the image of himself on the screen, his heart aching for the boy there. How can that be me? he thought. Is it me? It can’t be me. Confusion swirled in his mind like poisonous gas.

“This is a terrible thing,” Master George continued. “One of our goals as Realitants is to prevent this type of fragmenting event from happening. In a very twisted way, this boy is you, Atticus. He has your mind and heart, your goodness and courage. And he doesn’t deserve the fate that’s come upon him. Watch closely.”

The trees around the Alterant Tick started to shake; the brisk wind picked up even more, tearing at Tick’s pitiful, filthy clothes. There was no sound, but Tick saw the boy scream, hugging his arms around himself tighter. Above his head, the wood of the tree vibrated, then broke apart into a million tiny pieces, swept away by the wild wind. The other Tick screamed again, scooting away until he hit another tree. An instant later that one liquefied into a horrific brown goo, splashing all over the Alterant. Another scream, as if the tree burned him.

The real Tick watched in horror at what happened next.

The boy on the screen started to dissolve.