The Journal of Curious Letters

Chapter 43

These are our digs?” Paul asked.

“I miss my mansion,” Sofia moaned.

Tick agreed. Their “sleeping quarters” didn’t look very inviting. They stood in a small rectangular room in which six cots had been set up, three along each of the longer walls. Folded gray and black blankets and pillows lay stacked on top of each cot. The only other furniture in the room was a desk and a three-drawer wooden dresser. The floor of the room was a flat metallic gray.

“Would you rather sleep out in the raft?” Rutger asked. “We can arrange it.”

“Mister Tick,” Mothball said, nudging him. “There’s some dry clothes in the chest of drawers there. Better be changin’ out of yer soppies, ya should.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Tick walked over to the dresser as everyone else chose a cot and started spreading out their blankets. After a full minute of rummaging through the drawers, the only thing Tick found that was close to wearable was an enormous one-piece nightshirt. “This thing looks like a dress,” he said to Mothball.

“If ya’d rather soak in yer wet undies all night, fine by me,” she replied.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

She nodded toward a short metal door. Sighing, Tick went and changed into his ridiculous pajamas.

Frazier Gunn had listened to the muffled murmurs of people talking all night. His captor had guests, apparently. Almost insane from the months of isolation, Frazier felt like chewing through the metal and killing every last one of them.

I’d need stronger teeth, he thought.

He knew he was going crazy, and he didn’t care. He curled up on the floor like a dog and tried to go back to sleep.

Frazier longed to hear more clearly through the cold metal walls of his terrible prison. The only word he felt confident he’d understood in all these months was Annika. George had mentioned the name several times, and for some reason it resonated through the metal without being distorted beyond recognition.

Annika. An unusual name for sure. Frazier had only known one person in his life named Annika. She was one of Mistress Jane’s closest servants and one of several people, including Frazier, who intensely competed for Jane’s favor.

Was it a coincidence? Did George somehow know Annika? There’d always been rumors of spies in Jane’s camp. Had Frazier discovered a gold nugget of information?

If only he could escape. If only he could warn Mistress Jane…

“Hey, looky!” Paul laughed when Tick walked out in his long nightshirt, which hung all the way to the floor. “If it’s not Ebenezer Scrooge himself! Where’s your stocking cap, Grandpa?”

“Very funny,” Tick said as he walked to an empty cot and started setting up his bed.

“I think you look right handsome, I do,” Mothball said.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s got a crush,” Paul said.

Sofia huffed as she settled under her blanket. “Paul, you’re almost as annoying in person as you were on the e-mail. Keep smarting off and you’ll get a Pacini fist in the nose.”

“Oh, come on, you know you love me.” He leaned back against the wall with his hands clasped behind his head. “Man, this is the life-no chores, no one yelling at me to brush my teeth. I love living in the middle of the ocean.”

“Ha!” Rutger barked from the doorway. “You’ll be wishing for chores once we send you on your initiation mission.”

Tick froze, his pillow still in his hands. “Initiation mission?”

Rutger nodded with a wicked smile. “You didn’t think Master George was kidding about retrieving Mistress Jane’s Barrier Wand, did you?”

“You can’t possibly mean we have to do it,” Sofia said.

“You’ll find out tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

“Oh, that’ll be nice and easy after telling us something like that,” Tick said, straightening his blankets and getting into bed.

“Dude,” Paul yawned, “where in the world are we anyway?”

“That’s an easy one,” Mothball said. “Middle of the ocean, we are.”

“But where? Which ocean?”

Mothball and Rutger exchanged a wary look. “Go on, you tell ’em,” Mothball finally said.

“This is the headquarters of the Realitants, you see,” Rutger began, “and there’s a reason we’re here. Master George has to do a lot of winking, a lot of working with the Chi’karda. And this is the one place in the world where it’s the most concentrated, the easiest to penetrate and control. It’s by far the strongest link between all of the Realities.”

“But where are we?” Sofia insisted.

Rutger rocked back and forth on his feet. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you.”

“Blimey, just tell ’em, fat man,” Mothball said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, tell us,” Paul added.

Rutger folded his hands and rested them on his belly. “We’re smack dab in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.”

Master George let out a long, blissful sigh as he stuck his sore feet into a tub full of salt and warm water. Muffintops jumped onto his lap, purring as she licked his hands.

“Hello there, little friend,” he said, petting her soft fur. “Quite the day, we’ve had-busy, busy, busy. Never knew it would be so difficult explaining all the many things we know. Those poor little chaps. They’ve no idea what lies ahead of them. None at all.”

Master George leaned back and closed his eyes, wiggling his toes in the hot water. “Dear Muffintops, can we really do it? Can we really send them to that dreadful place? There’s a mighty good chance everything will fall to pieces, you know. They could be attacked or captured. I don’t know if the Sound Slicers will be enough…”

The cat looked up at Master George, as if it wanted to answer but couldn’t.

“Ah, yes, I know, I know. We’ve no choice really. Must let them prove themselves, mustn’t we?” He paused, thinking about the three eager children and how different they were from the boy Sato. Of course, Master George had expected nothing different from the troubled son of his former friend.

Master George smiled. When he really thought about the potential of the four kids he had gathered together, he didn’t know who he felt sorrier for in the coming days, weeks, and years.

His new batch of Realitants or Mistress Jane.

“The Bermuda Triangle?” Paul asked, sounding like he’d just been told they were living inside an alien’s big toe on Mars. “I feel like I’m in a bad made-for-TV movie.”

Rutger answered. “For some reason this area by far has the biggest concentration of Chi’karda in the world. Something tremendous must’ve happened here a long, long time ago, but we haven’t been able to figure it out. There’s certainly nothing recorded in the history books.”

“Why’s it such a big deal that there’s more Chi’karda here than anywhere else?” Tick asked, stumbling only a little over the unfamiliar word.

“Why’s it a big deal?” Rutger repeated, throwing up his arms like Tick had just asked him why he needed oxygen to breathe. “Do you have an unreasonable level of earwax, boy? Didn’t you listen to a word Master George said tonight?”

“Hey, be nice,” Sofia warned. “Unless you want a punch in the nose, too.”

Rutger ignored her. “Everything having to do with the Realities revolves around the Chi’karda. Because it’s so powerful here, it’s the easiest place to wink to and from the other Realities. It’s also the best place for Master George to monitor Chi’karda levels around the world. That’s how he’s watched all of you from day one so closely.”

“How?” Paul asked.

“By using another invention from Chu Industries in the Fourth Reality. It’s called a nanolocator.”

“Sounds fancy,” Sofia said. “Maybe Pacinis should make them.”

“I assure, you, Miss Pacini, there’s a big difference between making nanolocators and spaghetti sauce.” Sofia leaned forward like she was ready to get out of bed and attack Rutger, but he held up his hands in reconciliation, then hurried to continue. “A nanolocator is basically a microscopic robot, but it’s so tiny you can’t see it with the naked eye. It crawls into your skin and sends various signals back here to the Command Center.”

“What kind of signals?” Tick asked, shifting on his cot to get more comfortable. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a tiny robot crawling under his skin.

“Signals that monitor your Chi’karda levels, your global position, your body temperature-all kinds of things. Our fearless leader had to have some way to keep tabs on you, don’t you think? The nanolocators also told us where to send the Gnat Rats and Tingle Wraiths, which were programmed to find you and no one else.”

“Ah, man, I feel so… violated,” Paul said in a deadpan voice, then barked a laugh.

“How did he get it inside our bodies?” Tick asked.

“That’s easy,” Mothball said. “The little fella was on the first letter he sent you.”

“Serious?” Paul asked.

“When each one of you opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, the nanolocator quickly sought a heat source-your hand-and slipped right between your skin cells.” Rutger grinned. “Brilliant, don’t you think?”

“Dude, that just seems wrong, ” Paul said, shaking his head.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Rutger replied, rubbing his eyes in a mock cry. “How else were we supposed to know when or if you burned the first letter. Or when you made your Pick?”

“Pick?” all three kids asked at once.

“I’ll take that one,” Mothball said. “A Pick’s what Master George calls a ruddy big decision. Your Chi’karda level spikes like a rocket shootin’ off to space, it does. Showed up on his big monitor and let him know when yer were truly committed to the job he offered, when you really promised yourself there was no turning back. Smart old chap, don’t you think?”

“Master George watched his big screen every day,” Rutger said, “so he’d know when you made your Pick. Word is he just about suffocated his cat hugging the poor thing when you three made your Pick at almost the same time. That was uncanny.”

Tick thought of that night he knelt in front of the fireplace and the decision he’d made to not burn the letter in his hand. He remembered the sensation of warmth that had spread throughout his whole body. That was my Pick, he realized. He’d felt that same sensation again later, when he screamed out in the dark woods and managed to somehow change reality. Is that what using the Chi’karda feels like? Tick shivered. It was a lot to think about.

“What are we in, anyway?” Paul asked, looking above and around him. “Is this a boat or what?”

“No, it’s a building, firmly rooted in the ocean floor far below us,” Rutger said. “Master George used a little trick he learned from the Eighth Reality, where it’s mostly ocean. They developed some amazing cabling technology that allows them to build entire cities on the ocean. We’re perfectly safe and stable. You can barely feel the waves unless we have a real doozy of a storm.”

Mothball yawned, a booming roar that made Tick jump. “Master George will have our hides, he will, if he finds out we kept you up so late. Come on, now, we need-”

“Wait,” Tick interrupted her. “Just one more question, okay?”

“Be quick about it. Me bones hurt I’m so tired.”

“What’s the deal with cemeteries? Rutger said something once about the difference between life and death… I can’t remember.”

“It was another famous Master George quote,” Rutger replied. “‘ Nothing in this world better reflects the difference between life and death than the power of choice.’ Chi’karda levels are very high in cemeteries. Master George says it has to do with the lingering effects of the life-changing choices those people made. One way or another, their choices led them to their fates, whether good or bad.”

“And so we needed to go there because…” Tick started but stopped, worried his answer would be wrong.

“So we could wink easier,” Sofia said. “The stronger the levels of Chi’karda, the easier it is to travel between Realities.”

“Exactly,” Rutger agreed. “Not only can you travel between the barriers, you can travel between different locations of heavy Chi’karda spots within the same Reality. That’s how Master George could wink you from your towns to this place. He simply honed in on your nanolocator signals and winked you away!”

“My head hurts,” Paul groaned, falling onto his back as he rubbed his forehead.

“That’s because you Americans aren’t smart enough to get it,” Sofia said. “I’ll be happy to tutor you on everything tomorrow.”

“Methinks I’ve had enough for one day,” Mothball said. “Good night, all.”

She and Rutger left the room, flicking off the light as they went.

A few more words were said after they’d left, but sheer exhaustion soon pulled the three of them into a deep sleep.

~

Something jolted Frazier out of his dreamless slumber.

He swatted at the dark air around him, scrambling into a sitting position. What had it been? Was he-

He heard a loud thump against the wall by his cot. Then another, a clang of metal against metal that echoed throughout the small cell. Then another, this time louder.

What was that?

He scurried over to the light switch and flipped it on, squinting in the brightness. To his shock, a small dent, about three inches wide, bent the wall inward just above his bed. The bolts connecting the wall to the surrounding metal had loosened slightly, rattling as another big thump sounded. The wall bent even farther.

One final boom sounded through the room, and the entire piece of metal fell onto his bed, its bolts cracking like whips as they broke in half. Frazier stared past the hole in the wall, seeing the endless ocean in front of him, the first traces of dawn casting a purple glow over the deep waters. Then, inexplicably, a face appeared from below-someone he’d never seen before. It was a man with scraggly black hair and an unshaven face.

“Come on, Mister Gunn, we don’t have much time!”

“What… who… what…” Frazier couldn’t find any words after such a long time in confinement.

“Mistress Jane sent us to rescue you,” the man yelled.

“Rescue me?” Frazier could hardly believe it.

“Yes!” the man replied. “And then we’re going to destroy this place once and for all.”