Читать книгу Shelby and Shauna Kitt and the Dimensional Holes - P. H. C. Marchesi - Страница 2

Marina Gibbs was furious. She had never liked reading the newspaper, and now hated it more than ever as she stared at the headline on page six:

“Aerospace engineer Marina Gibbs, inventor of the MG planes, doing humble shift at local observatory.”

Marina bit her lip and frantically scanned the article below the headline. How could they do that? She had not given anyone permission to write an article on her. Getting fired was one thing: having it published in the paper years later – well, that was just too much!

Since she had moved to New Mexico, roughly fourteen years before, Marina had learned to enjoy strolling along the winding road that led to the tiny observatory at the top of the hill. One of her favorite nightly rituals before the beginning of her shift was making a mental inventory of all the stars in the sky while slowly sipping some coffee and munching on cashew nuts. On this particular November evening, however, Marina had neither coffee, nor the usual bag of nuts with her. Instead, she clutched the wrinkled newspaper and muttered angrily to herself as she marched up the dirt road. Her keen gray eyes scanned the article restlessly from behind a pair of narrow, rectangular glasses, and the short waves of her brown hair blew wildly in the wind. As she finally reached the weather-beaten door of the observatory, Marina mumbled one last complaint, carelessly adjusted her glasses, and hurried in.

The foyer of the observatory was a round hallway with a well-worn, cracked stone floor, and walls that hosted enough cobwebs to indicate they had not been painted – or cleaned – for a considerable amount of time. The entire space was bare, except for a strikingly narrow spiral staircase on one side, and a feeble-looking wooden desk on the other.

Marina’s eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light as she tossed her jacket on a coat rack. She surveyed the room in search of the old security guard who was usually sitting at the desk with his feet up.

“Charlie!” she called, wondering if he was in the bathroom. “You never lock the door! One of these days we’re going to have surprise visitors – and I don’t mean the raccoon that keeps showing up!”

The sound of a flushing toilet and water running from a faucet told Marina that Charlie had not heard a word she had said. She sighed. On top of letting visitors in after business hours and forgetting to charge admission, Charlie had a habit of leaving everything unattended – not to mention forgetting to lock the door altogether. Despite such blunders, Marina could not bring herself to fire him when she inherited the observatory from her parents. After all, Charlie had been there when she built her very first airplane model – in that same foyer, as a matter of fact – and she could see that it was still sitting, faded and wobbly, on his desk all these years later.

Still, Charlie could strain one’s patience. How much longer would he take to finally get out of the bathroom?

“You won’t believe what’s in today’s paper,” Marina cried, pacing around randomly. “Some jerk who doesn’t know anything about anything wrote an article about me! And you know what’s worse? He said my MG designs were a failure! A failure, Charlie! The most technologically advanced airplanes ever designed, and this moron says they were no good!”

No reply from Charlie.

“What really gets me,” she continued, gesturing impatiently, “is that if I hadn’t been fired, I could have shown them what those planes were capable of! If they had actually tested my prototype, they would have seen how amazing it was – I mean, no one’s designed planes like that ever since!”

She stopped, nearly gasping for air, and flopped down on the old wooden chair by the desk, where a small television showed the evening news. As she sat there, her feet restlessly tapping the floor, the voice of the reporter on TV caught her attention:

“The cause of death is still unknown, although forensics experts say this death is connected to the death of business mogul Robert Penderton, shortly after he announced bankruptcy last week. So far, authorities refuse to comment on whether this is yet another instance of what many people are beginning to call ‘supernatural deaths.’ There is still no diagnosis relating to the black marks found on the victim’s body. Authorities are urging people to remain calm until more is determined.”

Marina sprang up, and quickly grabbed the crumpled newspaper she had brought with her. In her eagerness to find the insulting article on her, she had completely missed the gigantic headlines. She flipped her way back to the front page and stared at it. Yet another dead body whose autopsy had revealed a strangely withered heart? Ugh! She scanned the article but found no new information: the police was completely stumped, and refused to respond to the growing belief that supernatural agents could be responsible.

Marina was just thinking about how unsettling this notion was when she remembered that she was still waiting for Charlie to come out of the bathroom. She stopped to listen: the bathroom was silent now, but Charlie was nowhere to be seen. She felt a slight shiver travel down her spine. What if something had happened to Charlie? And – worse – what if the sounds in the bathroom had not come from Charlie at all?

If Marina had been a cautious person, she might have turned around and called the police. She had never been cautious, however. Her curiosity always got the better of her, and it was no different this time as she quietly approached the bathroom door.

Just as Marina reached for the doorknob, the door suddenly opened from the inside, and she and Charlie both screamed at the same time.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” Charlie cried. “Why were you hovering by the door?”

Charlie’s furrowed face and large front teeth reminded Marina of an enormous, worried otter. She was about to ask why he had not answered her calls, when she remembered that the old security guard was almost entirely deaf in one ear.

“I’m sorry,” she said, speaking into Charlie’s good ear as they walked back to the desk. “I guess I got spooked by the paper headlines. All that stuff about people with withered hearts has been freaking me out! When I didn’t hear you, I –”

Marina stopped abruptly. Something very unusual had just happened: the lights in the room had shone considerably brighter for a moment. In that brief moment, she had felt a pleasant sensation of peace, as if all her worries were gone, or at least did not matter just then.

“Charlie,” she said, her gray eyes focused on him, “tell me you felt this.”

“I wish I felt like that all the time,” he muttered. “Do you think it has something to do with the lights?”

Before Marina could answer, they heard a noise upstairs on the observation deck. It sounded as if all of Marina’s electronic equipment had suddenly come to life at the same time.

“It’s probably just a power surge,” Charlie offered, looking unconvinced by his own explanation.

“Let’s check it out, just in case,” she said. She could sense that something unusual was happening up there – something that had nothing to do with power surges or the raccoon that methodically rummaged through her things looking for peanut butter crackers.

“Let me go first,” Charlie said, rushing to the stairs. “After all, that’s what I’m here for.”

Marina desperately wanted to go first, but she obliged Charlie, so that he would not feel completely useless.

“Looks perfectly normal,” he said, after turning the lights on.

Marina scanned the room: her hard drive had rebooted, and her printer was beeping, but everything else seemed the same. Her desk was as messy as ever, with a leaning tower of books and articles next to the old computer monitor. Even her airplane models, cluttered in a corner, remained untouched.

“You look disappointed,” said Charlie, laughing. “What were you expecting?”

Marina shrugged. She had been secretly nourishing the faint hope that something extraordinary would happen in her life. But who was she kidding? She was forty-one, and nothing extraordinary or exciting had happened since she had moved there. What amazing thing could ever happen to a former aerospace engineer running a tiny observatory in the middle of nowhere?

As she finished that depressing thought, Marina noticed a faint emerald trail in the air, like a brushstroke nearly washed away by water. Lying at the end of the trail, on the floor, was a crystal sphere that was roughly the size of a marble, and which emitted a faint blue light.

“Feel this, Charlie,” she said, picking up the sphere. “It’s warm!”

Before Charlie could touch the sphere, however, it jumped from Marina’s hand, flooding the room with a light so bright she and Charlie had to cover their eyes. When they looked again, they both staggered backwards, nearly bumping into each other. In front of them stood a man with intensely lilac eyes and short, gel-covered black hair that shot upwards, as if deliberately taunting gravity. He was wearing a white suit, though it looked nothing like a suit Marina had ever seen, for it was made of a white, velvet-like material, and the jacket had curly silver lines elaborately embroidered on its left side. Instead of a lapel, the suit rose straight up all the way to the neck, and was closed with five unusually large, crystal black buttons, each with a white flower drawn on it.

Realizing that Marina and Charlie were surveying him – speechless and wide-eyed – the man gave them a self-conscious smile, and nervously clutched the silver sling bag he carried with him.

“May the universe enlighten us,” he said. “I am Lendox. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“What invitation?” asked Marina, before she could stop herself.

“He’s going to kidnap us, and take us to his planet!” screamed Charlie, pulling out an old revolver he had no idea how to use.

“If you had not made the energy link with your hand, I would still be waiting,” Lendox continued, calmly showing them the crystal sphere that was now attached to a bracelet on his wrist.

“How did that get there?” asked Marina, noticing that the sphere was no longer shining.

“All roomix hang from bracelets,” said Lendox, simply. “They return to the owner’s bracelet as soon as one exits.”

“You’re telling me that thing’s a spaceship?” asked Marina, dying to know what kind of technology could do something like that.

“It is a traveling room,” explained Lendox. “The passenger sits inside, and the ship takes it to different locations. Once you get to your destination, you exit the roomix, and carry it with you until you need it again.”

Marina stared at Lendox, confused. What was he talking about? Why would anyone need a traveling room if they had a ship to begin with? And where was the ship? She was about to begin asking questions, when Lendox turned to Charlie, whose shaking hand was still locked around the revolver.

“You might as well lower your weapon,” Lendox said, sympathetically, “unless, of course, you truly intend to damage my energy field.”

“Your energy field?” repeated Charlie, horrified. “You’re a g-ghost?”

“You may be assured that I am quite alive,” replied Lendox, looking somewhat amused at Charlie’s reaction. “I am real, just like you, and I mean no harm.”

“That’s what they always say,” muttered Charlie, somewhat ashamed by the calm demeanor of Lendox, who waited patiently until the old security guard finally decided to put the revolver away.

“I assume you have many questions,” Lendox started once more, “and I am ready to answer them on behalf of Miriax.”

“Who’s Miriax?” asked Marina.

“It is my planet, and I am its vice consul,” said Lendox. “I will show you where it is.”

He now pulled a glove out of his bag, and squeezed his left hand into it. Marina and Charlie watched in amazement as luminous drawings of several planets began to take shape inside his opened palm, and then gradually floated outwards, filling the room.

“The star chart is drawing itself,” Lendox observed, as several planets and moons settled around Marina and Charlie, like giant air balloons falling lightly on the floor. “It will only take a moment.”

Marina glanced at Charlie, who stood gaping as the planets gently arranged themselves. Clearly, he had no doubt that Lendox was telling the truth. Could Lendox really be an alien, though? And what kind of a name was Lendox, anyway?

“That’s impressive,” she said, walking around the planets as if she were a space giant taking a stroll. “I think you have the wrong space chart, though. This is the solar system, and I’m pretty sure Miriax isn’t part of it.”

“Not in this dimension,” Lendox replied, “but let me show you a different picture. I will overlap what you see with a chart of my dimension.”

Lendox closed and opened his hand once more, and a planet left his hand and appeared on the star chart, settling close to Earth. It was lilac and green, and had a small, emerald-colored moon in its orbit.

“This is Miriax,” he said.

Marina stared at the space chart in disbelief.

“Are you saying that you’ve been there all along, and we simply haven’t noticed you?” she cried.

“You would only notice us if you had technology that could chart other dimensions,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

“So you live on this planet, which is right next door?” she asked, still not fully convinced.

“Yes, but in a parallel dimension.”

“Ok,” she said. “I’ll go along with it for now. If you’re not human, what species are you?”

“I am mirian,” he replied. “The ecosystem of my planet absorbs surplus energy from Earth, and then recycles it. Even though we are separate species, we have much in common. Earth cannot survive without Miriax any more than Miriax can survive without Earth.”

“You lost me,” said Marina, shaking her head. “What energy are you talking about?”

“Allow me to explain the relationship between the two planets,” said Lendox, calmly. “Every time a human emits any kind of positive energy, our planet processes it and sends it back to Earth. This process is what enables humans to have inspiration, imagination, love, kindness, hope – in short, all of your most precious qualities.”

Lendox closed his hand into a fist and the star chart vanished. Marina had to admit she was beginning to believe his story.

“These guys have been in our backyard all along,” Charlie whispered. “They even speak our language!”

“We do not,” corrected Lendox. “It only appears that way. Because of the relationship between our planets, our brains can automatically translate each other’s languages. If you notice my lips, you will realize I am not really speaking in English, and I doubt you are fluent in Mirian.”

Lendox’s observation seemed to impress Charlie, who stood watching the vice consul’s lips and waiting for him to say something again. Lendox, however, was busy observing Marina as she paced around the room with her hands behind her back.

“If you’re really who you say you are,” she said, stopping dead on her tracks and turning to Lendox, “I think you made first contact with the wrong people. I’m just an unemployed engineer. You should probably be contacting NASA, or the president.”

“The president is my second stop,” he said, “and you will not be unemployed for much longer.”

Marina eagerly waited for Lendox to explain what he meant, but he had spied a microwave oven sitting on top of a shelf, and seemed to have forgotten all about her. This irritated Marina considerably: how could anyone be fascinated by an old microwave at a time like this?

“It’s not working,” she said, flatly. “It died last month.”

“It runs on energy, yes?”

“Of course. Why?”

Lendox placed his hand lightly on the microwave. To Marina’s and Charlie’s utter amazement, the microwave beeped back to life. A bag of popcorn that Marina had tried to microwave weeks before started popping cheerfully. Lendox looked delighted as the timer finally rang.

“Here,” said Marina, opening the bag and waving away the heat. “Try some – if mirians eat, that is.”

“It is our planet that runs on energy,” said Lendox, eagerly getting a handful of popcorn. “I run on food, just as you do.”

Marina and Charlie watched, shocked, as Lendox munched noisily, and then quickly grabbed another handful from the bag.

“A little hard on the teeth,” he said, chuckling, “but very good indeed.”

Marina could not figure out if it was Lendox’s good mood, or the smell of popcorn, that made her and Charlie crave popcorn all of a sudden. As the three of them ravenously finished the contents of the bag, Lendox carefully collected all the unpopped kernels from the bottom of the bag, and popped them right on his palm.

“Can all mirians manipulate energy like that?” asked Marina, impressed.

“Not exactly,” said Lendox. “You will see for yourself when you go to Miriax.”

Marina stared at Lendox. Had she heard right?

“If you agree to be our aerospace engineer, that is,” he quickly added. “We need someone to help us build some very special planes.”

“You guys can travel all the way here, but you need my help to build planes?”

“They are more like spaceships, as a matter of fact.”

“Why me, though?” insisted Marina. “There are a ton of great engineers out there.”

“You are not great,” said Lendox. “You are the best.”

“Well, I always thought so,” said Marina, flattered.

“At only twenty six years of age, you created the most technologically advanced aerospace designs to date. You called them the MG planes, after your own name. Your ideas were so brilliant, in fact, that your army hired you to work on their planes.”

“Yeah, and then I got fired,” replied Marina, embarrassedly. “I bet you didn’t know that.”

“I did.”

“And you still want me?” asked Marina. “I hate to say this, but no one’s been interested in my work for years now.”

“I think you will find that is about to change,” said Lendox, pleasantly. “The Consul of Miriax is talking to your president about you at this very moment.”

The Consul of Miriax? Talking to the president about her? This was almost more amazing to Marina than the idea that she was talking to an alien who liked popcorn. Before she could formulate any kind of reply, the phone rang loudly, startling both her and Charlie.

“I believe it is your president,” remarked Lendox.

Marina rushed towards the ringing sound, and fumbled through several piles of paper before she finally found the receiver.

“H-hello,” she stammered. “Gibbs Observatory. Marina Gibbs speaking.”

Charlie and Lendox watched intently as the buzz of a male voice echoed through the receiver.

“Y-yes, hello, Mr. President,” said Marina, glancing at them and nodding slowly to indicate that it really was the president on the other end. Charlie rushed to where she stood, and placed his good ear as close to the receiver as he could.

“I’m honored to talk to you as well,” continued Marina, trying unsuccessfully to push Charlie away. “Yes, he’s here,” she added, glancing at Lendox. “He did tell me. Uh-huh. I am interested, but I’d like to know more before I – a meeting? Now? We can get there that fast?”

Lendox nodded, as if reaching the White House within minutes were the easiest thing in the world. Then he spied a decrepit coffee-maker, and eagerly went to examine it.

“All right,” continued Marina. “We’ll be there shortly. Ok, sir. Good-bye.”

Marina put the receiver down, and took a deep breath. The whole thing was real, after all. Lendox, however, seemed completely unaware of her monumental realization: he had touched the coffee-maker, and looked nearly hypnotized by the gurgling sound it produced.

“I can’t believe you just talked to the president, Marina!” cried Charlie. “That’s harder than talking to an alien! Are you going to meet him?”

“Right now,” she said. “I guess I’ll have to squeeze into that roomix thing.”

“Hold on,” said Charlie, worriedly. “How do you know it’s safe?”

Marina looked at the old security guard. The thought had not even occurred to her.

“Is it safe to go into the roomix, Lendox?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, finally turning away from the coffee-maker. “It is also very comfortable. It has thirty-seven different kinds of pillows inside.”

“There you go, Charlie,” she said, smiling. “It can’t be dangerous if there are pillows in there.”

“I don’t like you going alone with him,” Charlie insisted, in the kind of whisper that is louder than just about anything else. “He could be taking advantage of that to kidnap you!”

“Charlie,” began Marina, somewhat impatiently now, “if he wanted to kidnap me, don’t you think he could have done so already – and without calling the president first?”

“I guess,” he said, with a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “But who is going to take care of this place if you take off with him? It’s your observatory.”

“No, it’s yours,” said Marina, affectionately. “You’ve always taken care of it. I only came here because I had nowhere else to go.”

Charlie’s eyes nearly filled with tears as Marina gave him an affectionate hug, and it struck Marina that she was in danger of crying also.

“We better go,” she said, turning quickly to Lendox. “Where’s that ship of yours?”

The mirian vice consul tapped his ear for a moment, and then turned to Charlie.

“Do not be frightened by what you see,” he said. “You will be perfectly safe, and so will we.”

Charlie nodded, looking thoroughly alarmed. Marina briefly wondered what Lendox might be talking about, but she was just too eager to get to the White House to bother with any more questions just then.

“So how do we get in the roomix?” she asked.

“It reads my energy signature, and whatever is attached to me. Here,” he said, stretching out his hand, “if you hold on to me, you will be able to get in. Are you ready?”

It occurred to Marina that she had been ready her whole life, and yet no one had ever asked her that. With a growing smile on her face, she gave Lendox her hand. Everything around her immediately began to melt away, and she felt extremely dizzy as the shapes in the room became unrecognizable, and then disappeared completely under a soft, blue light.

“Here we are,” Lendox said, firmly holding her hand. “It is a disorienting experience the first time, but one soon gets used to it.”

After a few moments of leaning against the vice consul, Marina found that she was able to focus again. She saw that she was in a curved space made of something that looked like blue glass. There were no seats, but the floor had pillows of different shapes and sizes all around. In fact, there seemed to be nothing in there but pillows and space.

“I guess you weren’t kidding about the pillows,” she said, laughing. “This is like a lounge area, but without any furniture. I’d never guess it’s a ship.”

“It is not a ship, though perhaps it resembles one to you,” he said. “This is actually the most advanced roomix model we have.”

Marina noticed that Lendox’s eyes looked intensely blue under the light of the roomix. He struck her as more human all of a sudden – even his hair did not seem quite as outrageous as before.

“If this is just a room,” she said, sitting down and realizing that the floor was as soft as foam, “where’s the ship?”

“It is taking us there,” said Lendox, sitting down next to her.

“Right now? I don’t feel anything!”

“The roomix is designed that way.”

“Then how do you know you’ve arrived?” she asked, feeling more confused than ever.

“The lights turn yellow if you are going to a public place,” explained Lendox. “If you are paying a visit to someone, however, you must wait until the lights turn pink.”

“Why?”

“Because pink indicates that the person you are visiting has accepted your invitation by touching the roomix,” explained Lendox. “That is when you walk out.”

“Can’t you just walk out anyway?”

“Well, yes,” said Lendox, surprised at her suggestion, “but that would be rude.”

Marina silently laughed at the thought that aliens who could travel across dimensions were actually worried about politeness.

“Since we’re talking about being polite, should I call you vice consul?”

“No,” said Lendox, smiling. “Vice consul is a title I have not held for very long, and which does not truly define who I am. Please, call me by the only name I have, which is Lendox.”

“You don’t have a family name?”

“No. On Miriax, everyone has only a single name.”

“But what if two people have the same name?”

“No newborn is allowed to be given a name that already exists,” explained Lendox, simply. “No two people are the same, so no two people have the same name.”

“It must be impossible for parents to come up with a name that hasn’t been used,” said Marina, shocked.

“Only if they are not creative.”

Marina was about to say that there would be chaos on Earth if every name had to be original, but the lights of the roomix turned yellow and then pink, and Lendox quickly got up.

“They have accepted our invitation,” he said. “Shall we go? The consul is not very patient.”

“How do we get out?” Marina asked, scanning for a door as Lendox reached for her hand. “I don’t see an exit.”

“There is no door yet,” said Lendox. “Once we walk into the wall, the wall becomes the door. We call it fluix technology. Do not let go, or you may be stuck inside the wall.”

Marina tightened her grip on Lendox’s hand, and followed him straight through the wall. Everything around her became distorted again. She saw an emerald blur as she walked, but it disappeared before she could identify what it was.

“We have arrived,” whispered Lendox, coming to a halt. ”You should recover your vision more quickly this time.”

Marina leaned on the vice consul as her eyes struggled to focus. Within a few seconds, she realized that she was in the oval office of the White house. The president stood off to one side, talking to a remarkably tall, older mirian woman with short gray hair styled upwards just like Lendox’s. She wore a black jacket embroidered with gold lines, and which displayed five red and gold buttons. As she talked to the president, three other men wearing military uniforms looked rather tensely in her direction.

“Oh – there she is! Hello, Ms. Gibbs,” the president said, stepping forward to shake her hand. “Glad you could make it so soon. Let me introduce you to Astrax, Consul of Miriax.”

The president gestured politely to the tall woman, who blinked in recognition and bowed her head slightly. Marina warmly stretched out her hand, but Astrax did not take it.

“Apparently, they do not think it is not polite to impose one’s energy field onto another person’s,” the president told Marina. “They consider handshakes to be intrusive.”

“Sorry,” said Marina, awkwardly. “I didn’t know. Seems kind of illogical, though. I mean, you hold someone’s hand to get into their roomix, but you won’t shake their hand?”

“It does seem completely unreasonable,” said Lendox, good-naturedly. “No wonder tourists get so confused on Miriax.”

Astrax, seeing Lendox smile, gave him a disapproving look.

“I believe you have already met my nephew,” she told Marina. “He is, as you know, the vice consul at the Triux.”

“What’s the Triux?” asked Marina, secretly glad that Lendox had none of the harshness of his aunt.

“It is the building where the mirian government is located,” Astrax explained. “It holds the coalition of the three countries of Miriax: Valmorax, Palanix, and Oceanux.”

“I see,” said Marina, wondering if all of the names on Miriax ended in ‘x,’ and concluding that they did.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” said the president, turning to Astrax once more, “I assume that we’re going to find out why you have decided to make contact with us? From what you’ve been telling me, it’s not something that can usually be done.”

“That is correct,” said Astrax, gravely. “Our planet exists in a parallel dimension to yours. We cannot ordinarily come to your dimension, any more than you can come to ours. Energy, as you know, is the only thing that is able to travel between separate dimensions.”

“I didn’t know that, actually,” confessed the president.

“What that means,” continued Astrax, seemingly surprised by the president’s frank admission of ignorance, “is that planets from different dimensions can receive and absorb each other’s energy. Over a very long period of time, some planets have developed so as to rely on certain types of energy. Miriax, for example, relies entirely on the positive energy it absorbs from Earth, and Earth in turn benefits from the energy reflected back. If this delicate balance is disrupted, both planets suffer. That is why we came here.”

“But didn’t you just say that energy is the only thing that can travel between different dimensions?” asked the president, looking thoroughly confused.

“It used to be,” said Astrax, somewhat impatiently. “Unfortunately for both our planets, dimensional holes have opened between Earth and its parallel dimensions. As a result, both Earth and Miriax are in grave danger.”

There was silence in the room. Astrax looked considerably pleased with the attention her words had evoked.

“It seems as if several people here have already died as a result of these dimensional holes,” added Lendox.

“I bet it’s those weird murders!” cried Marina.

All eyes in the room looked at Marina, who reminded herself that she really ought to control her moments of brilliant insight.

“You perceive things quickly,” Astrax said, scanning her with disdain. “Watch closely.”

Marina now noticed that Astrax wore a glove similar to the one Lendox had worn at the observatory. The mirian consul opened her palm, and the same star chart Lendox had used began to occupy the room, much to the outrage of the three men in uniform, who had to move aside for Saturn and Jupiter to settle into their proper places. Marina immediately noticed that, in addition to Miriax, another planet now orbited the Earth. To her surprise, it was larger than Miriax, and its dark and gray surface was smudged with red streaks that looked eerily like bleeding veins.

“Focus your attention on Earth,” said Astrax. “As you can see, both Miriax and Klodius exist within close proximity, though in different dimensions.”

“As Marina correctly guessed,” added Lendox, gesturing to the gray and red planet, “klodians have been paying visits to Earth.”

“So klodians also live in a parallel dimension?” asked Marina.

“Yes,” he answered. “Their planet, Klodius, thrives on all the negative energy humans emit. Greed, violence, cruelty – Klodius is nourished by all of those, and reflects them back to Earth.”

“They’re our enemies, then,” said the president, furrowing his forehead.

“They are part of a very delicate balance,” replied Lendox. “Klodius, Earth, and Miriax have coexisted, though in separate dimensions, for thousands of years – until the dimensional holes opened.”

“What caused these holes to open?” asked Marina.

“We do not know,” replied Astrax.

“Do you know how long they’ve been there?” insisted Marina.

“We have been monitoring it for about 15 years now.”

“And all this time, these klodians have been coming to Earth?” asked the president. “Why didn’t you intervene sooner?”

“It did not seem wise to announce our existence, considering what we have gathered of your violent history,” said Astrax, disapprovingly. “We expected the dimensional holes to close on their own, but now we understand they will not. We must close them, or klodians will do considerable damage to both our planets. The more klodians land on Earth, the less positive energy there is for our planet to absorb.”

“And their planet?” asked the president. “Does it get stronger every time they kill someone?”

“Considerably more so,” said Astrax, coldly.

“So they just pick random people and kill them?” asked Marina.

“Not exactly,” said Lendox. “Klodians are naturally drawn to those who emit the most negative energy: those who are greedy, miserable, or desperate.”

“And then?” asked the president, looking as if he dreaded the answer.

“They do not have to do much,” replied Astrax. “A regular human heart begins to wither immediately upon close proximity to a klodian. It does not take long until the person is dead.”

“Where do the dark marks around the face come from?” asked Marina.

“From their nails,” said Lendox. “They release poison, and the dark circles are where the poison burns through the victim’s skin.”

Marina stared at Lendox for a moment, frowning with disgust and shock. The president and his advisors, too, seemed stunned into speechlessness.

“And we feared it was an unknown virus,” muttered the president, finally. “We were afraid it would spread and kill everyone.”

“The klodians have no interest in killing everyone, or in destroying Earth, for that matter,” resumed Astrax. “They know very well that if they do either, Klodius cannot survive. What they do want, however, is to increase chaos, fear, and violence on Earth as much as they possibly can. By doing so, they can strengthen their planet, and weaken yours and mine.”

The president and his three military advisors exchanged glances, and one of them gave the president a slight nod.

“Clearly, these klodians are a common threat,” said the president, confidently. “We are willing to offer any military aid necessary to destroy them.”

“We are thankful for the offer,” said the mirian consul, looking unimpressed, “but we have sent emissaries to all the governments of Earth requesting a different kind of help.”

“Oh?” said the president, taken aback. “What kind of help are you referring to?”

“We need the help of humans who have a high concentration of positive energy. Such humans can be trained to protect Earth from any incoming klodian visitors. Of these humans, we intend to select four to go to Miriax.”

“To Miriax? What for?”

“To be trained to seal the dimensional hole between Earth and Klodius,” concluded Astrax, emphatically. “It is the only way to prevent any further contact between the two planets.”

“We have developed a charge of particles – what you would call torpedoes – that will accomplish this,” added Lendox. “Two spaceships have to fly through the dimensional hole into klodian space, and release a charge from there. The hole will begin to close immediately.”

“Won’t the pilots be stuck there?” asked the president.

“Our simulations show that the hole will take a few minutes to close completely,” said Lendox. “The ships need to fly back into this dimension before that happens, and release another charge from here. Only then will the dimensional hole be closed on both ends.”

“Going into klodian space sounds extremely risky,” said the president. “Can’t we just release a charge from Earth’s space?”

“Allow me to explain with a human example,” said Lendox. “A dimensional hole is like a tear in a piece of cloth. To seal the tear, one needs to stitch so that the thread holds both sides together. In just this manner, the dimensional hole needs to have the charge released on both sides, or it will not be sealed permanently. ”

“I see,” said the president, frowning ominously. “I just don’t understand one thing: why can’t you train your own people to do it?”

Astrax looked considerably displeased with the president’s blunt question, and Lendox quickly took it upon himself to answer.

“Mirians cannot survive in klodian space, any more than klodians can survive in mirian space,” he explained. “It seems the universe does not intend the two species to co-exist other than through their mutual reliance on Earth.”

“That is why we need humans who can withstand large amounts of negative energy,” added Astrax, dryly. “Without them, we cannot protect Earth or Miriax.”

“But how are we going to find those people?” asked the president. “We don’t have technology that detects happy people!”

“We do,” ventured Lendox. “We scanned your planet, and found suitable candidates from every region of it. From this region, which you call United States, we have compiled a list of their names, ages, and the places in which they are currently living.”

Lendox reached inside his jacket, and produced something that looked like a crystal ballpoint pen. He clicked on it, and the holographic image of a boy with limp blonde hair and crooked teeth appeared in the middle of the room, hovering slightly above eye level. At the bottom of the image were captions in a strange, curly alphabet. To Marina’s amazement, the letters immediately began to reshape themselves into English letters that she could actually read.

“Tom Lewis, 14 years old, Carson City,” Lendox read. He clicked the pen again, and this time they saw the face of a girl with large dark eyes and braided hair.

“Loretta Jones, 13, Denver.”

Marina glanced at the president, wondering what he would say, but he was apparently at a loss for words. She noticed that the three military advisors exchanged uncomfortable glances as Lendox continued clicking. The faces of Robin Lee, 15, Kaela Stubbs, 16, and Breanna Hughes, 14, appeared before the president finally stepped forward, and impatiently gestured with his hand for Lendox to stop.

“You want to leave the fate of our planets to kids?” he asked, exasperated.

“They are the only likely candidates to succeed,” said Lendox, looking puzzled at the president’s reaction. “They are gifted with stamina, creativity, and hope. Their positive energy offers the best chance for success we have.”

“It’s out of the question,” snapped the president. “There has to be some other way.”

“Most human adults, regrettably, do not have much positive energy,” said Astrax, matter-of-factly. “As a result, they are easy targets for klodians.”

“And what do you propose we tell these kids’ parents?” asked the president, desperately. “Should we tell them that nice aliens are going to borrow their kids for an intergalactic war on which the future of the human race depends?”

“It is a fairly accurate statement,” said Astrax, “except for the term intergalactic. I believe interdimensional would be more accurate.”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” said the president. “These are kids – kids can’t really do anything!”

“I believe your view is inaccurate,” said Lendox. “Our mission will not succeed without them – especially these next two.”

Lendox clicked the pen again, and the faces of a boy and girl appeared side-by-side in the middle of the room. The boy had curly dark brown hair, and vibrant blue eyes. The girl looked as if she were his exact opposite: her dark eyes shone brightly against the light brown, straight hair falling on her shoulders.

“Meet Shelby and Shauna Kitt,” said Lendox. “They are 13, and they live in New York City.”

“They’re twins?” asked Marina, mildly amazed. “I would have never guessed that.”

“What’s so special about them?” asked the president, unimpressed by the two goofy faces hovering in the middle of the oval office.

“Although they are not aware of it,” said Lendox, “together they have the highest individual concentration of positive energy on this planet.”

“How’s that possible?” asked the president, sounding slightly more impressed. “They look absolutely normal!”

“I am sure they are normal,” said Lendox, smiling. “They probably have no idea how unique they are.”

“What makes you think their parents will be willing to part with them?” asked the president, crossing his arms skeptically.

“Lendox will go speak to their parents,” said Astrax. “They are more likely to understand the importance of the matter if they meet a mirian.”

The president took a deep breath, and then gave Astrax a reluctant nod.

“All right,” he said. “But I would like Ms. Gibbs to go with him. If our governments are supposed to be working together, they might as well start now.”

“Very well,” the mirian consul replied. “It may be good to have her there. I have heard human children can be difficult.”

“They’re teenagers,” said Marina, chuckling. “They can be even more difficult.”

Astrax ignored Marina’s comment, and Marina decided that she definitely did not like the consul much.

“I shall return to Miriax,” Astrax announced. “Lendox will remain here to help you get started. May the universe enlighten us.”

Without waiting for a reply, Astrax bowed slightly, touched her bracelet, and was promptly sucked into her roomix right before their eyes. The shining sphere remained on the floor for a second, until it disappeared amidst a trail of emerald dust that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“How soon can the two of you get to New York?” the president asked, turning to the vice consul and the aerospace engineer.

“If Marina does not mind leaving now, we can be there very soon,” replied Lendox.

A smile spread through Marina’s face. “What are we waiting for?”

“To New York, then,” said Lendox, taking her hand in his once more. “It is time to meet Shelby and Shauna Kitt.”