Darkest Designs (6 page)

Storey wasn't sure when the stylus had started to get a personality, but this dimension appeared to bring it to the surface. “But they didn't have you.”

The hum started again. Storey glanced over at the man. He appeared to be asleep again. It was odd. Had he slept through the last century? Did he have food or water? And if he did, that meant body functions. Still, there appeared to have been little to no aging in all the decades or centuries that he'd been stuck here. Had time stopped for him? And if so, what would happen to him when it started again?

Stylus,
she asked mentally.
Is he okay? If he's been here all these years, can he survive in the Torans' world now?

He's been comatose for all this time.

Right. Was that good or bad?

Does that mean we can take him back or we can't? I don't want him to die when we get home, but…
She chewed on her bottom lip. This was a new concern. Originally, all she'd wanted was to get home. Now she wanted take this poor man with her and…she was very much afraid he couldn't go back. That was a horrible concept…and one she had to question in her own case.

We believe he will die.

Will he?
She glanced over at the sleeping man.
Are you sure?

Yes. And if you stay here, it will be your fate too.

***

Eric finished packing, doubled checked that the broken stylus was safe, then tucked it away in his inside jacket pocket. He didn't mention it to Paxton. The scientist was protective of all the styluses, and Eric didn't want him to refuse to let it go.

Still, if there was any chance this one had information for Storey, then all the more reason to bring it to her. Just because Paxton said she couldn't access the information, didn't mean that was fact. As he was quickly learning, Storey knew a lot more about some stuff than most Torans.

A fact that would irritate them all. Especially his father.

“While I'm gone, you'll make sure to keep my father locked up, right?” When an answer wasn't immediately forthcoming, Eric spun around, “Right?”

Paxton nodded. “Yes. Still, I wish you wouldn't go.”

“I know.” But that wouldn't stop Eric. “So help me minimize the danger.”

Paxton held out a weird instrument. “Just in case there are no landmarks or sky to work with, I'm going to give you a different type of tracker.” He stood up and walked over to his workbench. He opened a drawer on the left side. Inside the drawer was another locked box. Eric leaned over. He'd never seen this box.

Paxton opened the box and pulled out a small, pill-like object. “Here. Swallow this.”

Eric stared down at the thing. His stomach heaved. He didn't like the sound of this at all. “Do I have to? I can't imagine what it could do in there.”

“This tracker will flush out of your system in a few days. In the meantime it will track your body heat in case we lose communications.”

“But you already can track me. Look…” He pointed at Storey's moving pathway. “Track me like her.”

“I'm tracking her stylus, not her.” Paxton waited patiently.

Eric looked from the pill to his mentor and back again. “Fine. But I don't like it.”

“You never did like to take your medicine, did you?”

Eric rolled his eyes at the mention of his childhood behavior and tossed the pill into his mouth. With difficulty he swallowed it dry.

“Good. Now we'll set it up and it should go live in a few minutes.” He turned back to his monitors, his fingers busy on the keyboard. “Do you have everything you might need?”

“Paper? Something for Storey to write on if need be?”

Paxton found a spare tablet in a different drawer by his knees. He held it out.

“The only thing is these are small. She has these huge paper sheets that work well. And being electronic – will it even work over there?” Eric stared down at the tablet. He didn't think it would work to jump through the same way as the many paper portals Storey had drawn.

“We gave up paper decades ago,” Paxton said testily.

“And that's why I was wondering if I should port to Storey's bedroom and grab more of her sketchbooks. Her closet has several of them.” Storey'd had everything she needed for the last trip to the Louers' dimension, and as far as he remembered, she'd still had her travelling pouch during that last jump with his father. But…that didn't mean she still had it. What if she'd lost her pouch in her fall? According to what he'd learned so far, that could mean the pack was there, but just out of sight.

Besides, the more supplies the better.

The more he considered it, the better he like the idea. He might be able to scoop up some of her never ending stash of granola bars, too.

“I don't like all this traffic. You know it creates tunnels between dimensions when we do too much of it. That's why visits to her dimension are so carefully regulated.”

“I understand that. But we have to do what we can to make sure that we have all options covered. If her paper can create a portal to get us out – like she created to allow us to rescue my father – then we should have more in
this
situation.” Maybe the gentle reminder of how many times Storey had used paper to save their lives would help nudge Paxton. Eric didn't know if cross-dimension travel was an issue based in reality or just another of Paxton's unfounded worries.

How could anyone know?

“Then make it quick. In and out. Let no one see you and get back here immediately. Time is running out. If you're going to try and find Storey, I think you need to go there as soon as possible. The damage to her system, providing she's even alive, will increase by the hour.”

Crap. “I didn't need to hear that,” Eric muttered. “I'm going to run. Back within the hour.”

S
torey took another look at the man leaning at the impossible angle. If she'd found one person, would she find more if she stayed here longer? And how? She couldn't help but think it was only dumb luck that had brought her to this man in the first place. He still hadn't given her his name. She'd feel better talking to him if she knew what to call him.

She leaned across and nudged his shoulder. Then nudged it again – harder.

He blinked at her. Damn that was irritating. “Hey, remember me? What is your name?” She spoke clearly and slowly. Maybe it would help him understand.

“Dillon.” He frowned as if surprised by his answer. “I think.”

“Dillon. Good. That's a good start. How long have you been here, Dillon?”

His frown deepened. “I…don't know.”

“Right. That probably wasn't the best question to ask you as time doesn't seem to matter here. Okay, Dillon, do you have any family back home that might be missing you?”

She winced. Probably not a good question either. But she needed to find out something about him. Just in case they could find a way to keep him alive. She refused to entertain the concept of failure in this case. Any information she could find would help Paxton sort this out. And let Dillon's family know what had happened to him.

“Brother,” he said faintly, closing his eyes and swaying as if the effort had taxed him.

Excellent. His brain was functioning. “Good. You have a brother. He might be still alive too. What's his name?”

Dillon looked at her in confusion. Not that she'd seen many other expressions from him yet. She did get the impression she was disturbing his sleep. Something he was falling back into every time she stopped talking to him. So she kept talking. “Dillon?” she sharpened her voice this time.

He straightened ever so slightly. But it helped. His face had a familiar look to it. But, then, the Torans looked like humans.

“Yes?”

“You have a brother,” she prompted, trying to hold in her exasperation. “What is his name?”

“Paxton.”

“Paxton! Your brother is Paxton?” What were the odds? She shook her head. “Wait there must be more than one man with that name in your world. Hell, we have thousands of guys named Eric in mine. It must be a different man.” But wouldn't it be cool if it was the Paxton she knew? She'd love to reunite the brothers.

If this one survived the trip. She wasn't even sure he could walk. What would happen to his body in a normal dimension? Whatever ‘normal' meant. Space travel in her world apparently did horrible things to the human body. Something to do with radiation and no gravity. She couldn't imagine the gravity issue being any better on the body here.

“Stylus, we can't leave him behind. That's so not going to happen.”

Dillon raised his head slightly. “Leave? There is no way to leave.” His face crumpled. “I've been here for so long.”

“What about water and food? Have you eaten anything in all these years?”

Dillon's eyes widened. “No. Sleep. I've been asleep. Until you came.” He straightened a little more and looked around. “I remember hoping, waiting for rescue. When it didn't come, I slept. Until now.”

“Until now? Really?” So not good. “Stylus, is that possible?”

In a comatose state similar to an animal in hibernation, yes, I believe so.

“Yes, but even a bear wakes up and comes out of his home when he's hungry. Dillon's system shut down. Completely.”

Not completely. He is waking up. Slowly. If his body had shut down, he'd be dead. But there will be more problems as his body comes back to a more normal state.

“And is that going to mean his bodily needs are going to wake up too? I doubt I have enough food and water for a century long appetite.” She'd reverted to speaking to the stylus out loud instead of in her mind. The sound of her voice was more appealing than the smothering silence. The normalcy of hearing her own voice somehow added balance to yet another bizarre situation.

“Stylus…I was thinking. Can't we just go back in time to before I was pushed out of the portal?”

They'd gone back in time accidentally before, but they'd survived that trip and she had no doubt that she'd survive it again. Staying here didn't look very survivable – not if Dillon was anything to go by.

No. I don't believe so.

“But that's not the same thing as no. Is it?” she prodded.

No. As the air here is different, I can't say that anything will work. We have no archival information of this.

“You guys did time travel before, right? Because you helped us last time.”

But you didn't use my help to go back in time. I helped you find a way forward.

Splitting hairs as far as she was concerned. Time travel was time travel. Although technically the stylus was correct – again. That didn't mean it was
always
correct.

She sat down in front of Dillon. “I should have some paper and rations. I think.” She pulled out the shrunken pack Eric had made for her in triumph. “And I have this.” She waved it around. Eric should have the other pack – maybe. “Stylus can you open this?”

Yes.

“Good. Um…how? What do I need to do?”

Even as the last words tripped off her lips, a weird set of musical notes that sounded familiar rang out. And how the stylus could do that without speakers she didn't know. She laughed. “That's perfect. How come you don't play music to lighten the air?”

How can music lighten the air?

Storey shook her head. “It's a figure of speech. Music makes people feel good. It lightens their moods, their souls. Makes people happy.”

Interesting.

She stared at it. “That's all you have to say? It seems much of your education is missing.”

Education? We have had no education. We are Louers. Slaves. We received no education.

That whole ugly history thing again. She sympathized, but this was so not the time. “Back to the problem then. I have a piece of paper. Why not just draw a portal back to Paxton's lab?”

We don't have a location for where we are at.

She pursed her lips, finally starting to understand there were limitations to the stylus. She hadn't come up against them before, because she hadn't really understood how the stylus had done what it did. Now she realized it had need of certain information to follow through on some of her requirements and for the first time they were both in new territory and neither knew what to do.