D. MacHale - The Reality Bug

“Protect yourself,” Dorney answered. “There’s no magic wand you can wave to make them go away. They aren’t always around, but you have to be prepared when they are. I’ll tell you one thing, they’re afraid of the flumes. Don’t ask me why. When a flume activates, you won’t see any quigs around.”

“Can we contact other acolytes?” Mark asked.

“Look at your ring,” Dorney ordered.

Mark held up his hand so he and Courtney could see the heavy ring with the dark gray stone surrounded by the odd, carved symbols.

“Each of those symbols represents a territory,” Dorney explained. “There are ten in all.”

“Ten territories,” Mark repeated softly, as if he had just been given the secret of the ages.

“If you know the name of an acolyte,” Dorney continued, “take the ring off and call out that name. The symbol from their territory will activate the ring and you can send a message.”

“So if I took off the ring and said: ‘Evangeline,’ the symbol for Veelox would open up the ring and I could send a note to her?”

“That’s right.”

“Is that how we should get in touch with you?” Mark asked.

“You could,” Dorney answered. “Or you could pick up the telephone.”

“Oh. Right,” Mark said, feeling dumb.

“Can we contact Bobby through the ring?” Courtney asked.

“No,” was Dorney’s quick answer. “Only the acolytes. Travelers don’t need to be bothered with our problems.”

“Is there anything else?” Mark asked.

Dorney took some time to think about that answer. He looked out the window, his mind seeming to fly a million miles away. Courtney and Mark looked at each other. They weren’t sure if Dorney had tuned them out, or was having deep thoughts.

“You are the acolytes from Second Earth now,” Dorney finally said. “With Press gone, I’m no longer needed. It may be an easy job compared to what the Travelers do, but I think you’ll agree it’s an important one.”

“We do. Absolutely. Yessir,” they assured him.

Dorney looked back out the window with a frown on his face.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Courtney asked.

Dorney sighed and said, “It’s just a feeling.”

“What?” demanded Courtney.

“I don’t know,” Dorney said anxiously. “I didn’t like what I heard about Veelox.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Courtney said.

Dorney looked at them. For the first time since they’d met him, Mark and Courtney actually felt as if he were softening up a bit.

“What I mean to say is,” Dorney continued, “be careful. Saint Dane has finally had a victory, and there’s no telling what’s next. From this point on, I can’t guarantee that the old rules still apply.”

Mark and Courtney took the train back to Stony Brook with that ominous warning still on their minds. Neither said much. They both had to get their minds around the fact that they now were officially acolytes. The only question was, what next?

“I want to go to the flume,” Mark announced.

“Why?” Courtney asked.

“We’ll bring some of our clothes to leave there.”

“But nobody told us they needed clothes,” Courtney countered.

“I know. Just thinking ahead.”

The two fell silent for a moment, then Courtney said, “That’s just an excuse to go there, isn’t it?”

Mark was ready to argue, but decided not to. He nodded. “I guess I just want to see it again. To prove it’s real.”

“I hear you,” Courtney said. “I do too.”

When they got off the train in Connecticut, they both went home and gathered up a bunch of clothes they thought a Traveler from some distant territory might need to blend in on Second Earth. Courtney picked out a bunch of simple, functional things like jeans, T-shirts, a sweater, socks, hiking boots, and underwear. She debated about bringing one of her bras, but figured that was overkill.

Mark gathered up a bunch of clothes that were totally out of style. It wasn’t like he had a choice. That’s all Mark had. He found sweatshirts with logos that meant nothing, no-name jeans, and generic sneakers. Style was not something Mark concerned himself with. He hoped the Travelers wouldn’t either.

Mark brought one other thing from his house that he hoped he wouldn’t need. He borrowed the sharp poker from his parents’ fireplace toolset. It was woefully inadequate to deal with an attacking quig-dog, but it was all he could find.

Mark and Courtney met in front of the gates to the Sherwood house, each with a loaded backpack. They didn’t say a word to each other as they walked around the side of the property to the tree that would give them access to the yard. Once over the wall, Mark held the fireplace poker, ready to defend them against a rampaging quig. Courtney saw that Mark’s hand was shaking like Jell-O, so she gently took the poker from him. If either of them had a chance of fighting off a charging quig, it would be Courtney.

But they didn’t run into any of the yellow-eyed beasts. They made it through the house, down to the basement, and into the root cellar that held the flume. No problem. They emptied their backpacks and neatly folded the clothes in a pile. Courtney looked at some of the geek clothes Mark brought, and chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, Bobby’s gonna blend right in wearing a bright yellow hooded sweatshirt with a red logo that says, Cool Dude!

“Give me a break,” Mark said defensively. “It’s my favorite sweatshirt.”

Courtney shook her head in disbelief. When they were finished, they both gazed into the dark tunnel to the territories. They stood together silently, each with their own thoughts as to what the future might hold.

“I’m scared and excited at the same time,” Mark finally said.

“Really,” Courtney added. “I want to be part of this, but it’s scary not knowing what to expect.”

“Can you imagine being a Traveler?” Mark asked while stepping into the mouth of the tunnel.

“Well, no,” Courtney answered, “to be honest.”

“Well, I’ve thought about it a lot!” Mark declared. “It would be awesome, stepping into a flume and announcing the next amazing place you’d like to go.”

“It’s pretty unbelievable,” Courtney agreed.

“Look at this thing!” Mark said, scanning the flume. “Ifs kinda like having a jet fighter.”

“It is?” Courtney asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. You know what it’s capable of, but have no idea what to do to make it go.”

“It’s not all that hard,” Courtney said, “if you’re a Traveler.”

Mark smiled, turned to face the dark tunnel, and shouted out: “Eelong!”

He looked back to Courtney and said, “Could you imagine if-“

“Mark!” Courtney shouted.

Mark saw the terrified look on Courtney’s face. She was looking deeper into the flume. What was back there? Mark spun quickly to see the impossible.

The flume was coming to life!

Mark jumped out of the tunnel and ran to Courtney. The two backed away toward the far wall of the root cellar, hugging each other in fear.

“D-Did I do that?” Mark asked.

“Or is somebody coming?” Courtney added.

The light appeared from the depths of the tunnel. The musical notes were faint at first but quickly grew louder. The rocky walls began to crackle and groan. Mark and Courtney could only stare in awe.

“l-l don’t really want to go to Eelong,” Mark cried. Courtney held him tighter, ready to hold him back if she felt him getting pulled into the flume.

The gray walls melted into glorious crystal as the bright light and sound arrived at the mouth. Mark and Courtney had to squint. They didn’t dare put their hands in front of their eyes, though. They were too busy hanging on to each other.