Broken Dreams (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 5) (25 page)

To the north, she saw Mount Hood, still draped in the last of the passing rain clouds. That gave her context, and she craned her neck. To her right, she could make out a sliver of blue. A moment later the trees parted, and they banked again, following the contours of the Willamette River now below them, looking bluer than she had ever seen it after a rainfall.

“We should be coming upon the mill in a few minutes,” Ping said.

The copter descended over the water, getting close enough that Mara could see the current through the vehicle’s frame. She grabbed the armrest and dug in her fingernails.

Ping noticed and said, “Is something the matter? Am I going too fast?”

“No. I have a thing about water. The thought of drowning causes me massive stress. That’s all,” she said.

Ping pulled back on the lever, and they shot up at a sharp angle. “Is it better if we are higher?”

Mara relaxed her grip and said, “Yes. As long as the river looks like a ribbon and not a body of water, I’m good.”

The increased height gave them a view over the next hill, and they could see the cluster of buildings gathered at a bend in the river. While they couldn’t make out the remains of the mill yet, the partially built bridge jutting out from the opposite river bank and the floating bridge below it meant they were close. Nearby, a large ship with cranes sprouting on each side of its bow headed in their direction from north of the bridge.

“What kind of boat is that?” Sam asked. “Does it use those cranes to offload cargo?”

Ping shook his head. “It’s used to dredge, to deepen the bottom of the river so larger ships can pass.” He pointed to a cluster of equipment on a pier well beyond the bridges. “They not only use the cranes but some other interesting devices. If we have time, we’ll swing by and have a look.”

“We will have to get lower over the mill if we want to look for … I mean, look at the damage,” Sam said.

Ping steered the craft westward over land and descended over wooden and tin roofs and dirt roads that slipped past so quickly they looked like tiles with dirt grout lines. He pulled back on his lever, and the copter slowed, jogged around a tall building with the word Hotel printed in red letters on its flank.

“Hey, that’s where we stayed,” Sam said.

Zipping around a corner, the copter straightened its course and flew parallel to the main thoroughfare until it approached the river. Before flying over the river, they took a right, and they passed over the long narrow roof of the lumber mill and came to a hovering stop above the remains of the mill’s power plant, a black starburst pattern burned into the terrain. The water wheel leaned half submerged on the riverbank, and a pile of debris cluttered the space between the two mills, but there was virtually nothing left of the building itself.

“Wow. We’re lucky we got out of there alive,” Sam said.

Ping looked aghast. “I had no idea it was that large of an explosion. What could have caused such a cataclysm?”

“The Aphotis, that’s what,” Mara said. She stared down into the large black scar for several minutes. “Do you think we could buzz around in this area for few minutes?”

“You don’t think that creature is still lurking about, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t know. If it’s able to infuse itself into any object, it could be anywhere, and we would not know it until it showed itself.”

Ping looked worried. “It’s not a good idea for us to be exposing ourselves like this. What if it attacks? The copter is not nearly as durable as the equipment inside the mill’s power plant. We are extremely vulnerable.”

“Let’s just go as far as the pier, and then we’ll turn around and head home,” Mara said. “It’s not likely it’s hanging out in this area. When we saw it leave the mill complex, it headed inland,” she said.

He twisted the lever with his fingers, rotating the copter 180 degrees, and pushed it forward, sending them north, along the course of the river. As they approached the pier, the copter dipped low, Ping being careful to keep them over land.

“What in the world is that thing?” Sam asked. He pointed to a large piece of equipment that looked like a bulldozer with a huge steel corkscrew mounted on its nose instead of a shovel.

Ping leaned to the side to see around his seat. “More dredging equipment I believe. Once they get the permanent bridge built and deepen the river, the hope is to increase traffic along the river and allow the community to spread out and grow.”

They descended in a spiral over the pier littered with cranes and digging equipment. As they swooped down to within one hundred feet of the ground, they heard a motor turn over and roar to life. The sound came from behind them, and Mara spun in her seat to see what it was. She tapped Sam’s hip, indicating she wanted him to move to the side so she could see. The corkscrew-nosed machine spewed out a large cloud of blue smoke.

“Swing us back. Turn around,” she said to Ping. “I think that’s it. The Aphotis, it’s coming out of that dredging thing.” Her heart pounded as Ping pulled up on the lever, lifting them skyward and spinning them around to face the opposite direction.

“Where?” he asked.

Sam pointed to the small mushroom cloud unfolding over the pier. “Do you mean that? That just looks likes exhaust to me.”

Mara leaned forward and squinted. The smoke was already dissipating, riding the light breeze coming in from the east, not moving of its own accord. She relaxed into her seat and said, “Yeah, just a little smoke. I was surprised to see something that dark coming from a machine. Everything around here is steam-powered.”

The copter banked south and zoomed away from the pier.

“Even water vapor can pick up particulate matter when it’s coming from an old dirty piece of equipment,” Ping said. “I, for one, am glad that’s all it was.”

Sam leaned down between the two seats and turned toward Ping. “When do I get to fly this thing?”

After they landed at the manor, Sam dashed through the door of the copter and ran toward the back entrance of the house on his way to the fabrication shop, eager to share his piloting experience with Bruce. Mara and Ping made their way from the vehicle and across the lawn at a more leisurely pace. She nodded toward the large tent across the way and arched her eyebrow at Ping.

He waved a hand, warding off the questions he knew were coming. “I thought we had an agreement. Just a hint and no more questions about the project in the tent.”

“Technically I never agreed to your terms,” she said. “Just tell me that Sam was wrong, that there’s not a spaceship under there.”

“Given all you have seen prior to coming to this realm, I’m surprised you have trouble with the notion of a spaceship. It’s certainly a more tangible concept than many you have embraced.”

“But a spaceship? Come on.”

“Forget about the tent for a moment. Let’s talk about your understanding of the Chronicle of Cosms and what it does. I get the impression you don’t fully grasp the principles involved,” he said.

“Now you’re sounding more like my Ping. Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Tell me what you know about the Chronicle and how it works.”

She shrugged as she walked alongside him, kicking droplets of water off the grass as they went. “It allows me to travel into the substance of things, to alter their properties at a microscopic level.”

“Is that all?”

“Pretty much all I know, I guess. I’ve only worked with it for a couple days.”

“Tell me about this other Chronicle of yours. What did you call it?”

“The Chronicle of Creation.”

“Yes. It’s what allowed you to travel here—or rather to the physical world and then here. Correct?”

She nodded.

“How does it work? What does it do?”

“My Ping would say it is a talisman I use to focus my abilities to travel between realms. Personally I think it is a little more than that. It helps me focus my abilities, but it also provides a road map through Consciousness. Understand?”

“I believe so. The Chronicle of Cosms works similarly because it allows the progenitor to gain perspective on Reality. Remember how I said it should be called the Chronicle of Context? Well, that’s what it does. But it works in both directions.”

As they climbed the steps to the back entrance, Mara stopped and looked confused. “
Both directions
?”

Ping held up two fingers pinched together, as if he held a grain of sand, and said, “Microcosms and”—he held up his arms to the sky—“macrocosms. The Chronicle can provide perspective on a much larger scale as well.”

Mara looked at passing clouds. “You’re kidding. You’re saying she—I mean, I—can travel up there with the Chronicle?”

“If looking through one end of the eyepiece takes you into a microcosm, where do you suppose looking through the opposite end would take you?” He smiled as he held open the back door.

“I appreciate the lesson on the potential of the Chronicle, but I get the feeling you are making a larger point,” she said, now following him into the kitchen.

“The larger point is this—the progenitor doesn’t need a spaceship to see the stars.”

* * *

That evening Mara sat on her bed, staring at the Chronicle of Cosms, rolling it between her fingers. Occasionally the light caught one of the crystals and flashed a smear of blue light across her body. It was kind of hypnotic.

This was the third device, or talisman, she had encountered in the past few months called a Chronicle. The first being the medallion that now lay on the bedspread before her crossed legs. She’d gotten it from her counterpart—Sam’s version of Mara—who had crossed over on Flight 559. The second Chronicle, a book of cryptic hints handwritten in haiku form, was called the Chronicle of Continuity. It had been sent by her future self, carried into the past by her five-year-old niece and destroyed when the dragon burned down her home. Only a single page remained. It was in her book bag with a few other do-dads they’d brought along on the trip to this realm.

Where is that book bag? It didn’t cross over with me here.

She always encountered these devices when most needed. And all of them seemed to come from her—from some other Mara—to her.

What is that all about?

A knock at the door pulled her from her reverie. She answered, “Come in.”

Ping peeked his head inside and asked, “You up for a visit?”

“Only if you tell me which one of you it is. I should make a mental note of what you guys are wearing so I can keep you straight,” she said.

He chuckled and entered. “I’m the baker who turns to dust when he’s startled.”

“Oh, you and Dad got back from town finally. What took so long?” she asked.

Ping sat down at the foot of the bed. “We spent time with the police chief and then ended up escorting him on several calls. After that, your father received a message, and we made a house call on the way home. Sam is right about him. The doctor’s definitely a prompter, though I’m sure he’s unaware of it. He knows he has a talent for suggestion, but he’s unaware he can compel people’s thoughts.”

“Have any trouble convincing Chief Simmons of who and what we are? That we are here to help?” she asked.

“I’m not sure he believes everything we told him. Like most police officers, he’s more comfortable dealing with facts, and we had little concrete elements to offer in the way of evidence. However, he did witness your interaction with the Aphotis and understood, at the very least, that we are not in league with it. His deference toward the progenitor is playing in our favor.”

“Everybody loves a celebrity. So I gather he won’t be a problem for us.”

“Unlikely, but there is the matter of the Aphotis itself. I believe that it might have been the underlying cause of the calls the chief received while we were with him.”

“Is it still attacking people? Did someone get hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No one hurt seriously, but there was a serious incident with a printing press in the local newspaper office. The press inexplicably accelerated to the point that it cast off giant rolls of paper and spewed ink in all directions. Luckily the workers were not hurt.”

“What makes you think it was the Aphotis?”

“The press foreman said a dirty blue mist flew into the press room and seemed to be absorbed by the machinery—immediately before it suffered the malfunction.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Earlier in the day, a construction crew experienced some inexplicable issues with power tools turning themselves on and chasing workers around the work site.”

“You said no one was hurt?”

“None reported. We also ran down to the riverfront after some dredging equipment dug up a pier and nearly sunk a large ship before it got stuck in the mud. No one was standing near the device when it started up.”

Mara’s eyes widened. “I had a feeling about that thing. But no mist swirled around it.”

Ping looked askance. “That thing? To what are you referring?”

“The dredging thing. The one with the giant drill bit for a nose. Wasn’t it?” she asked.

“How did you know that? Have you spoken to your father?”

“No. We went on a copter ride and flew over the mill’s power plant. Well, what was left of it. We also buzzed over the pier a few blocks away. I saw the thing start up, but there was no evidence of the Aphotis around.”

“Mara—”

“I know. I know. It wasn’t a smart thing to do.”

“The Aphotis easily could have taken over the copter and killed all of you.”

“It didn’t cross my mind until I saw that dredging thing start up. After that, I told the other Ping to bring us back, and we flew straight home with no trouble. Except for the few minutes where Sam piloted, but that was a momentary loss of altitude, a little bit of turbulence.”

“Your father would not be pleased.”

“I’d tell you not to say anything but I’m sure Sam is downstairs regaling his dad with the story. I’ll have to take my lumps.”

Ping pointed to the eyepiece in her hands and the medallion on the bed. “Taking an inventory?”

“In a matter of speaking. Just thinking about each of the Chronicles and how they seem to be around when I need them.”