JACK (NARRATOR):

I’m not one to really care about what other people think, and definitely not about me. But I am starting to wonder if they might think I’m crazy, or at least a little bit weird. Because I’ve been doing this one thing over and over, and the locals are definitely starting to notice. 

It’s the Welcome to Superstition sign. Well, more accurately, it’s the sentence beneath it: WHERE ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN. I keep coming out here to read those words because so much has happened. And it all started with a key to a mysterious motel room, and then a lot of driving. A fucking lot of driving.

And then the whole Kate Millay thing and the cops saying she wasn’t really missing, but she really was, and then I found her, and got stabbed, and she saved my ass, and then Izzy got us out alive, and then before I knew it the Jack St. James Detective Agency wasn’t just a jumble of words that came out of my mouth but a real place. A real thing. And I’m, like, a real private detective now, I guess. I mean, Izzy got me the hat. So I’m legit now.

And it’s all so fucking unbelievable.

So that’s why I keep driving out to that town sign to read those words.

Also… because of what happened to me before I even took my first case at the Jack St. James Detective Agency. 

Weird things happen in Superstition. Weird things that aren’t possible elsewhere. The walls between believable and unbelievable are thin here, and sometimes there’s crossover, whether you admit it’s happening or not. 

There are those that deny it, and try to keep on having normal lives.

There are those that admit this shit is happening and try to deal with it.

And then there are those that cause it. Like Simon Millay, who didn’t really understand what he was doing, but thought he was doing it for the right reasons, and then something crossed over from the other side. 

[Monster sound effects from Season 1]

Simon made that happen. 

And sometimes things just cross over.

Like Monica did.

[Break]

MONICA:

Okay. This is a new one. I’m in a town called Superstition. In the blistering sate of Arizona. It looks to be around early twenty-first century. But the place has a feel about it. There’s history here. Like centuries of it. It’s worn into the fabric of this town. It’s buildings just . . . Exude it. Time’s taken it’s toll here, but there’s still a lot of life. Plenty of fucking vitality.

I can definitely see how someone could grow to like it here.

There’s a harshness, but also charm.

So what can I get out of it? What does the quaint town of Superstition have to offer Monica Chase?

The name is definitely weird, even for a town in the States. But it’s definitely making me curious. What’s behind it all? Is it a cool name because some white dude way back when thought it would be a good name, or did it get this name because weird shit happens here?

With how I’ve described the town already, my money’s on the latter.

What with how . . .

Wait! What the fuck was that? 

Damn, it’s gone now. 

Oh, there’s another one.

Is that . . . A fucking ghost?

Shit! It is! And it just looked at me. And kept on moving. Okay, good. That’s good. I’m still not over all that banshee business, so keep going incorporeal spirits. Nothing to see here.

What is up with Superstition?

Oh shit. That gal saw me. Did I say the word ghost out loud? I don’t remember. Maybe?

And now she’s coming over . . . Just fucking fabulous.

[Break]

JACK: Are you . . . Okay?

MONICA [terse]: Yeah. Why?

JACK: You just yelled “a fucking ghost.”

MONICA: Ahh. Okay. I can see why you thought I might need help.

JACK [sincere]: Because you saw a ghost.

MONICA: I did . . . Did . . . Did I? [Fast] I’m not sure. I saw something. I guess it could’ve been a ghost. Or maybe just a figment of my imagination. Or  . . . Fog?

JACK: It’s just after noon. This is Arizona. That’s not how fog works. You saw a ghost, didn’t you?

MONICA [acceptance]: Yeah, I guess I did. It looked right at me and then kept on going down the street. Which was fine by me. So you . . . Believe me?

JACK: Damn right I do. This is Superstition after all. This is the one place where weird can be an everyday thing.

MONICA: I can think of another place, actually.

JACK: You’re not from here, are you? I haven’t seen you around.This isn’t a very big town and new faces are kind of hard to miss. Especially yours.

MONICA: You got me. I’m from . . . Far away from here.

JACK: Far? How far is far?

MONICA: You know what, I’m gonna level with you. You believe in ghosts. You say Superstition is weird, so I’m guessing you’ve seen some serious shit. Shit that can’t be easily explained. So I’m going to give you my back story.

 JACK: (CAN’T BE THE WEIRDEST THING SHE’S HEARD TODAY) Hit me.

MONICA: I’m a time traveler of sorts, passing through doors to other worlds in space and time. I’m trying to find . . . My guy, Jake Fisher. He’s also a time traveler but screwed up and now he’s kinda lost in time traveling from place to place. And I’m trying to find him, so we can get back to the place where this all started. A strange town called Ostium.

JACK: That’s what you meant by “another place.”

MONICA: Yep.

JACK: Okay . . . Well, the good news is, it’s after noon. Wanna get a drink?

MONICA: That sounds fucking fantastic.

[Break]

MONICA:

We start with tequila shots, which I was surprised at for like half a second. Then we clinked glasses and down the hatch it went, and man that was some good shit. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a shot, but it’s been too fucking long that’s for sure. I join Jack in a round of crown and cokes after, though I also take a look at the menu and order an enchilada. All this alcohol and the little amount of food I’ve had since this wild ride started means I’ll have trouble even finding the next Ostium door, let alone going through it.

I know I’m feeling the buzz, because I feed her a really shitty line:

MONICA: So do you prefer [ice clinking sound], or are you also partial to . . . A Jack and coke?

JACK: (A COME-ON AS A JOKE, THAT TURNS INTO GENTLE TEASING) I’m really not picky. Take what I can get, usually. In fact, some people have said I’m… experimental. But, I’m assuming you’re just talking about how I like to drink my booze, right? 

MONICA: Jesus, I really need to eat something. My mouth is just running itself. Sorry Jack. That was fucking terrible. How about we talk more about Superstition? How did you end up in this . . . Weird fucking town?

JACK: A fifteen-year-old scavenger hunt clue led me here, and then my private eye smarts helped me find that girl.

Jack points to a poster pinned to a board behind the bar. It’s then I really take it in: the whole board is full of missing persons posters. What the fuck is with this town? The poster that Jack is pointing to is at one end and separate from the rest. The girl is Kate Millay. Above the poster someone has written FOUND in big letters with permanent marker.

MONICA: Judging by the rest of the posters, you did something special?

JACK [laughing]: Yeah. I’m kind of the town hero right now [snork]. All it cost me was a knife to the stomach.

MONICA: Ouch.

JACK: I survived. 

IZZY: And you have your own detective agency because of it.

This comes from the person behind the bar who’s watching Jack with a smile on her face, while Jack has her own smirk and look in her eye.

Are these two dating?

MONICA: I take it you know each other.

IZZY: Jack is one of my regulars. 

JACK: (I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I) You’re regular. Uh.

IZZY: I can’t get rid of her. JACK: [laughing, snork]

MONICA: So I really saw a ghost earlier?

IZZY: Aaaaand that’s my cue. I’m on the clock. I’ll leave you guys to your… ghost hunting.

JACK: That’s Izzy. She’s, um. She’s busy!  And yes. That was a ghost. Or something of the supernatural persuasion.

MONICA: So that sort of thing happens a lot in this town?

JACK: Sorta. There’s a lot of . . . Unexplained stuff that goes on here. Why, is anyone’s guess. Maybe they’re the ghosts of the people that once lived here? That’s been known to happen. Or – you ended up here! Are they maybe something that’s slipped through from another realm?

MONICA: Could they be from other worlds? Possibly from somewhere or somewhen I’ve visited?

JACK: If you find out, let me know. I’m just trying to help the living. My focus is on helping the living of Superstition. My job is to find those people, I guess.

Jack’s pointing at all the missing posters.

JACK: In Superstition, people disappear, sometimes for a short time, sometimes for a long time. And sometimes they don’t come back. I’m trying to change that and help those that need help.

MONICA: Which is . . . Fucking awesome. And that’s not just the booze talking. I’m being serious here. The fact that there’s someone like you doing good.

JACK: Trying to at least.

MONICA: No. You are. It gives me hope, which I can really use right now. If I’m ever going to make it back to Ostium. And find Jake. But after meeting you, it’s given me confidence that I will. 

JACK: Thank you. You know,you got some chutzpah, Monica. 

MONICA: I . . . think that’s a compliment? It’s too bad I have to go. I’m not sure about living in Superstition, but I’m sure we would have some good times.

JACK: Yeah, we would. You have time to eat, right?

MONICA: Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere before I destroy that enchilada.

JACK: And another drink?

MONICA: Why not. One for the road.

[Break]

JACK:

We have that last drink. And Monica does destroy her meal. That girl can sure eat. But after hearing her story, it sounds like it’s been a while since she ate. She says she needs a memento from this world she’s visiting. My world. Something small but significant. I can’t think of anything, and then I look at the counter. I hand her a Lady in White bar coaster. It’s a creepy ghost in a white dress, holding a tankard of ale or lager or something. The name of the bar curves around her head. Beneath her it says: Superstition, AZ. 

MONICA: That’s perfect. Thank you. Time to go through another door.

JACK: We say our goodbyes and I follow her over to the bar’s nasty back bathroom. I’m wondering what the hell she’s up to,  but no, it’s the door she’s chosen. She says she knows it’s this one. Then she gives me a quick hug, which I gladly return.

Not looking back, she opens the door and steps through. 

It closes.

For just a second I see something on the other side that definitely wasn’t a restroom.

I think I need another drink.

Before I can start to feel sad about losing Monica I see Izzy looking at me across the room in her certain way.

I can’t help smiling as I walk back over to the bar. 

INT. UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY [JASON’S CELL] – NIGHT
SFX: Footsteps can be heard coming down the hall as Jason sits up in his creaking, old bed. A few moments after, the footsteps stop as Alexander stands outside of his cell.
JASON Finally. Took you long enough.
ALEXANDER I had some other things to take care of.
JASON (sigh) Not like it actually matters. Venezia doesn’t much care for punctual anyway.
ALEXANDER (laughs) Punctual? I doubt the word’s in her vocabulary.
JASON (chuckle) Yeah, agreed. (beat) Alright. We may as well get the show on the road then, huh?
ALEXANDER (amused) Someone seems pretty gung-ho about seeing a particular doctor.
JASON Well, when your only interaction with people for a few weeks has been non-existent, other than “I’m good” responses, you start to appreciate conversations more.
ALEXANDER Ah, yeah. Guess I never thought about it that way.
JASON Especially since you’re not subjected to stay cooped up in a room for 23 hours of the day.
ALEXANDER Doesn’t mean I’m enjoying myself.
JASON I don’t think anyone is really enjoying themselves here. (beat) Well, expect for Venezia.
ALEXANDER Something’s not right with her. (beat) Anyway.
SFX: Alexander takes out his keys and opens the door to Jason’s cell.
JASON Alright then.
ALEXANDER Let’s get going then.
JASON Lead the way.
ALEXANDER (slight chuckle) Nice try, but go in front. You know how we do things here.
JASON (sigh) Unfortunately.
SFX: Jason starts walking, with Alexander right behind him.
FADE TO:
EXT/INT UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY [VENEZIA’S OFFICE] – NIGHT
SFX: The pair stop walking.
ALEXANDER Well, here we are.
JASON (sigh) That we are.ALEXANDER If you’re not in the mood to be berated, we can get her to reschedul–
JASON No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. (beat) Just… it’s been a while is all. Before the lockdown, I was ready to play her games, but now… I don’t know.
ALEXANDER Well, I’ve never had a long enough conversation to be “played” with, but doesn’t sound fun.
JASON You’re right, it’s not, but it’s required.
ALEXANDER That it is.JASON (sigh)
SFX: Jason walks to the door and opens it, entering Venezia’s office. The door slams shut behind him.
VENEZIA Not this one.
SFX: Venezia throws something, crashes hard.
VENEZIA (CONT’D) Or this one.
SFX: Venezia throws another thing at the wall.
JASON Uhh. Dr. Venezia?
VENEZIA (absentmindedly) Huh? Who is it?
JASON It’s me, Jason. Remember, we had an appointment.VENEZIA Oh, right right right. That’s today, huh?
SFX: She stops what she’s doing and opens a drawer, grabbing a bundle of paper. After flicking through them for a few moments, she stops and drops them on her desk.
VENEZIA (CONT’D) It seems that I’ve allowed time to slip by. It’s already Wednesday. (mumble) Could’ve swore it was Sunday.
JASON Have you left your room since the lockdown?
VENEZIA (laughs) Of course not! What reason would there be for that?
JASON I don’t know, talking to people? Seeing the sun?
VENEZIA Pish posh. I don’t need to talk to uninteresting people. I only care for those with stories, but not just any story. (beat) They must chill me to the bone, make me weep tears of joy or sadness or–
SFX: The door opens.
JAKE What about ones that are just outright strange?
VENEZIA My my my. Now, who are you?
JAKE Jake Fisher.VENEZIA And what is Jake Fisher doing in my office?
JAKE Ummm. Yeah, about that… I don’t know how to explain it.
VENEZIA Well, you’re already here so try and dazzle me. (beat)
(MORE)
Otherwise, I’ll need to call the guards. Hmmm. That’d be fun in its own way as well. Well, the choice is yours.
JASON I’d do what she says. From your clothes I’d say you’re not a prisoner, a guard or a worker.
JAKE That’s correct.
JASON So what do you think’ll happen if she calls the guards on some random ass person? I couldn’t see it going well.(beat) It is a supermax prison.
JAKE (surprised) T-this is a… prison? (beat) So you’re a…
JASON A prisoner, yes.
VENEZIA Interesting. There’s no logical way for you to not know what this place is. (beat) Actually, there’s no reason for you to be in this wing at all. Hmmmmm. Interesting indeed.
JAKE Alright, so… I can travel through doors.
JASON (slight chuckle) Obviously. Anyone’s able to do that.
JAKE Okay, I’m not stupid. Obviously people can walk through doors, but this is a bit… different.
VENEZIA VENEZIA (CONT’D) (CONT’D)
VENEZIA Hmmm. Different how? Am I correct in assuming that’s what led you here?
JAKE You are indeed correct. So have you two heard of Doctor Who?
JASON Oh yeah, that old British show?
JAKE Old? No, it’s quite new actually. Recently, renewed for a new season.
JASON Really? I think it’s quite old, but I don’t keep up with shows from the UK. My husband used to, which is the only reason why I’ve seen it.
JAKE Great! Regardless, this’ll make my explanation easier. (beat) So I can do what he does.
VENEZIA What who does?
JAKE Yes, what who does. Dr. Who obviously. (beat) Sometimes, when I open a door, I’ll “jump” to someplace or time.
VENEZIA And this is what’s happened now?
JAKE Yes, I gotta find my way back home.
VENEZIA Before you do find a way home, mind telling me a few stories of your space or time?
JAKE Wait… you two believe me?
JASON I don’t know if I’d say believe, but there’s nothing else that can explain it at the moment.
VENEZIA So will you weave me your tale?
JAKE I-I guess? I mean what do you want to know?
VENEZIA Hmmmm. The most surreal experience you’ve had with this power of yours.
JAKE Hmmm.
SFX: Silence for a beat.
JAKE (CONT’D) Okay. I think I got one, but I’ll also need this guy to tell me something as well.
JASON The name’s Jason. Jason Cawfield.
VENEZIA Oh, how rude of me. (beat) Dr. Stella Venezia at your service.
JAKE Nice to meet you both, but before I tell you this, I want to ask Jason some questions.
JASON What if I don’t answer?
JAKE Then I’ll find my trinket and be on my way.
VENEZIA Trinket? (beat) What is the significance of it?
SFX: Silence for a beat.
JASON (sigh) Just ask your question.
JAKE Jason, what are you in here for? What did you do?
JASON I’m here for a crime I didn’t commit.
JAKE And that crime being?
JASON Ummm. Bi–VENEZIA International bio-terrorism.
JAKE O-oh, I see….
SFX: Silence for a few beats.
JASON I’ve already said that I didn’t do it, but you’re free to believe whatever you want.
JAKE I suppose that’s true. Alright then. I’ll hold up my end.
VENEZIA Fantastic.JAKE Most surreal experience. (beat) So–
VENEZIA One moment.
SFX: Venezia grabs her chair and a notebook as she attentively waits.
JASON Don’t mind her. She’s always like that.
JAKE Oh, o-okay. Anyway, it was one of the first times that I learned about this… “power.” (beat) I wasn’t certain where I actually was, but that was also due to me standing by the door for a little while.
SFX: Venezia is scribbling down notes.
VENEZIA And after entering this unknown place, why did you not go off exploring? If it was me, I’d have been jumping for joy.
JASON I think more sane people would be cautious.
VENEZIA Sane? HA! Since when has being sane ever brought about change? (beat) I’ll tell you, never. It’s always the “crazy” one. The outside of the box thinker. It’s never the sane one.
JASON My point still stands. In regards to your own safety, many would be cautious and take more care.
JAKE (fake cough) Ahem.
VENEZIA Apologies. Please do continue.
JAKE So as I was saying: I stood by the doorway, entranced by the site before me as well as the fact that a random numbered door brought me there.
SFX: Venezia continues to scribble.
VENEZIA Numbered? Why and for what purpose was it numbered?
JAKE The numbers indicate the order that you must enter the doors in. (beat) However, after entering a number, you’re able to go to the next one and all the ones before it are still available.
SFX: Venezia is hastily writing down notes in her notebook.
JASON So where’d you end up? Where’d that numbered door take you?
JAKE Even if I tell you, I don’t think you’ll beli–
VENEZIA No no no. That will simply not do. (beat) You must tell us. (intimidating) No matter how ridiculous, or insane it sounds. Do you understand me?
JAKE Y-yes ma’am!JASON (sigh) She’s at it again.
JAKE So I was playing a game; Geoguesser. Ever heard of it?
JASON Nope. Never. Dr. Venezia?
VENEZIA Is that where any individual can place an item of their choosing in a location and have others seek it out?
JAKE (excited) Yes! That’s exactly it.
JASON I’m surprised. I didn’t take you for the recreational type.
VENEZIA Well, let’s just say I’ve hid a few interesting items here and there in my day.
JASON Yeah… I’d rather not know.
JAKE Anyway, that’s what I did during my free time. I’d play that game. (beat) After playing for a while, I stumbled upon a town called Ostium, which had a population of zero.
SFX: Venezia is scribbling notes.
JASON Zero? So an abandoned town?
JAKE That or just wasn’t updated, but that’s not the strangest thing.
VENEZIA That being the numbered doors you previously mentioned, correct?
JAKE Correct. And once I entered one of the first few doors, I was in North Carolina.
JASON Okay? Is that all…?
JAKE In the 1500s.
VENEZIA Hmmm. If my memory serves me right, that was around the time that town went missing. Roake? Roanke?
JAKE Roanoke.
VENEZIA That’s the one. (beat) (intrigued) Wait. So you’re saying that you’ve seen the lost town?
JAKE I have.
SFX: Venezia is frantically writing down notes.
JAKE (CONT’D) I couldn’t believe my eyes… me in a lost town that shouldn’t exist anymore. (beat) I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but there I was.
JASON So what’d you do? What’d you find?
JAKE I found…
SFX: There’s a hard knock at the door.
JASON Dr. Venezia did you schedule two overlapping meetings?
VENEZIA (sigh) No. I may be a scatterbrain most of the time, but I’d never, ever schedule two conflicting meetings. (beat) If I did, I’d never be able to give my full attention to anyone.
JAKE Okay… then who’s at the door?
VENEZIA Beats me, but I think it’d do you good to leave.
JAKE Leave? Don’t you want to know what happened in Roanoke?
VENEZIA (slight laugh) Trust me. I’d love to. Honestly, I’m tempted to lock you in this room until you tell me all of your stories.
JASON That doesn’t sound insane at all.
VENEZIA Oh hush you. I said that I’d like to. Not that I was going to. Two entirely different things.
JASON Uh huh. Sure.
SFX: Two loud bangs on the door.
JAKE (nervous) O-okay. I’ve gotta go, but I can’t.
JASON And why not? Just go open that door and… vanish?
JAKE That’s what I’m saying. I can’t do that… at least not without a token.
VENEZIA Token? What does it look like?
SFX: Someone tries to angrily open the door, but it’s locked.
JAKE (nervous) T-they aren’t all the same, but it’s always something to represent the world that I was in.
JASON (thinking) Something to represent the world…ah!JAKE What?
SFX: Jason rummages through his pockets.
JASON Here.
SFX: He hands Jake a T.INT patch.
JAKE What’s this?JASON This is a patch from the organization I’m apart of. Tinkers International or T.INT.
JAKE Oh! The arms make an “O” in the middle for Ostium! (beat) This has to be it.
JASON Wait really?JAKE Yeah, look.
SFX: Jake puts out his hand to show Jason.
JASON Yeah, the patches don’t have a white “O” in the middle. Strange.
JAKE Yeah, okay. That confirms it then.
VENEZIA I’d say you take that and be off then, no?
JAKE Yes, thank you.
VENEZIA No, thank you. It was a fun story, albeit an incomplete one.
SFX: Someone bangs on the door again.
JAKE I apologize for the story being cut short, but thanks for your help.
JASON Make it back home safe.
JAKE I’ll do my best.
SFX: Jake quickly runs to the door and opens the door, vanishing as someone else stumbles into the room.
VENEZIA (amused) Oh hello director. You do not look pleased. What ever could be the matter?
End of the episode

MONICA: The apartment looks like it was mid-century, the kind that was once meant for a large family but now has been split up into multiple apartments by a landlord who needs to stretch his investment. It’s a pretty old rowhouse, but fairly well cared for. I’m in a hot, wet place, so I’m guessing by the looks of things, it’s a city in the US, probably in the south-east region, what with the heat and extreme humidity. So . . . just fucking great. Not my ideal. There are other mismatched apartments and houses, up and down the street. But I arrived here. Through a door . . . a fucking rip through reality and it put me on the curb. Right in front of this house. Is there a reason for that? Fuck knows. But I’m here and this is where it wants me to go, whatever it is. I’m looking for Jake. That’s my goal. That’s what I’m gonna do. I know my track record hasn’t been exactly great with finding the people I want to through the doors of Ostium, but hey guess what, I found Steve in the end. Sort of. So . . . one for one. 

And my chances for finding Jake look . . . [sarcastic/uncertain] Good?

I mean, he’s . . . somewhere. And yes, that somewhere can be literally anywhere and anywhen . . .

Okay, time to stop feeling shitty.

As I take two steps towards the small steps and gate it hits me . . . it’s physical . . . it’s invisible . . .it’s . . . fucking strong. I can’t see anything, just your normal looking apartment building. But I can feel it, sort of. I can sense it. There, coming from the steps down to the basement apartment. I can sense . . . Them. More than one. Like levels of obstruction, holding me back. They’re . . . Oh shit, they’re wards. This house is under protection . . . From what? And who’s inside? A witch? A wizard? A warlock? Some other magical being that I know nothing about?

To say I’m out of my depth here is a gross overstatement. 

But let’s take a big fucking step back for a moment . . . Mentally and physically. Ahh, that’s better, less pressure from the wards. So . . . How do I know they’re wards exactly? Where did this insight come from? Last time I checked I didn’t know thing one about  . . . Magical thingies. Case in point. And yet some-fucking-how I know wards are protecting this place.

O . . . Kay. Maybe it’s something to do with going through these doors, on my own. Jake said he was changed after the blackness . . . What? Took him? Enveloped him? He survived, came out the other side, and was stronger for it. Maybe I’m going through a similar thing. I sure am speculating and pontificating like him. 

So how does one get past or through a ward? 

Let’s find out . . . I guess.

[Short break]

I move forward again and immediately feel the pressure. I walk slower but don’t stop. I’m just forcing myself against them. It’s like walking underwater, and the water’s like “heavy” water. I start to feel pricks on my skin, like tiny needles, or micro shocks. It’s very uncomfortable, and unsettling, but . . . bearable. Then things start to heat up. More than before. The tiny needles have been sitting on hot coals. I start grimacing, then moaning a little. 

Then just like that they’re all gone. I’m pain free and walking normally again.

I guess I . . . Broke through?

I walk down the steps and make it to the door. A metal figurine of a woman with the lower half of a snake is nailed above the door, a small black felt bag hanging from her hands. The door is also ajar. Okay. Didn’t expect that. 

I let my heart get closer to its usual beat, take a breath, and push open the door.

With my first step inside I hear a confident woman’s voice say: 

KALILA: Hello Monica, I’ve been expecting you.

[Break]

[KALILA:]

KALILA: February 16th. [TENTATIVELY 02/16/20] Moon is full. Sun is in Gemini.

The visitor’s name is Monica. I can’t really say client because she’s not one. Although she did offer to pay me for my services after we were done . . . Until she discovered she didn’t have any money. She was very apologetic about it. I didn’t give her a hard time . . . her arrival came under unusual circumstances. Last night I had a dream that today I would be visited by a stranger who would need my help. I know better than to ignore prophetic dreams. They come few and far inbetween, but it’s usually best practice to pay attention. The only word I heard in the dream was Monica. My day began auspiciously: the alarm failed to wake me up at the set time; the shower had lukewarm water; my breakfast tipped over onto the floor; and when I went to take my first sip of tea, the handle came off the mug. Fortunately, I didn’t get burned, but I did have to clean up and make a whole new cup of tea and a bowl of cereal. I should’ve been annoyed, but instead I recognized these signs for what they were: something big was disrupting the energy around me. I needed to be ready for it, or rather for this Monica person. 

I felt the tension in the air when she arrived. I felt her making contact with the wards, then forcing her way through them. I have had those wards for a long time and each week I re-strengthen them, making sure they give me enough information about what or who comes in contact with them. She didn’t break them exactly, as anything attacking would; she was merely able to . . . Pass through without giving the required information. At least she didn’t seem dangerous. Okay, I was curious.  

When she poked her head through the door I said . . .

[Break]

KALILA: Hello Monica, I’ve been expecting you.

MONICA: You . . . Er . . . You have?

KALILA: Yup. Please come in.

MONICA: Thank you. I . . . Are you here to help me? Is that why I’m . . . In your lovely home.

KALILA: You don’t sound certain.

MONICA: Oh, I barely have a fucking clue.

KALILA: No problem. We’ll figure it out together; let’s get started. Please take a seat . . . Here. Would you like some tea?

MONICA: That sounds . . . Heavenly.

KALILA: I’ll be right back. 

[Short break]

MONICA: This is fucking delicious. What is it?

KALILA: Oolong.

MONICA: I’ve got to get me some. Sorry, do you mind the swearing.

KALILA: Nah, it’s fine. However you need to express yourself. Feel free.

MONICA: Thank you.

KALILA: Now: why are you here?

MONICA: I thought you were going to tell me that . . . With the tarot cards.

KALILA: If you think that’s why you’re here . . . Are you familiar with tarot?  Have you had a reading before?

MONICA: No and no.

KALILA: Very well. Do you have any idea why you’ve shown up on my doorstep? What has brought you here?

MONICA: Well . . . I’ve been traveling through doors. Going from place to place and . . . Time to time. I’m searching for someone. [Breath] I’m looking for Jake Fisher. He’s lost. And I need to find him.

KALILA: A traveler, huh? Interesting. This is something I can work with. I’m going to do a three card reading . . .

MONICA: So . . . Where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going?

KALILA: If . . . If that’s what you want, it can be that yes. Do you want that?

MONICA [thinking for a moment]: Yes. That’s what I’d like. If that’s okay?

KALILA: Of course. So . . . First card is Six of Cups. You recently found something or someone you’ve spent a long time looking for. You were reunited with this person, and possibly others. Also a return to a familiar place. A home of sorts. Not necessarily your true home, but a place you are comfortable and familiar with. 

MONICA: Yes. I found Steve. My boy. And Jake. And we were all back together in the Ostium Network. But then something happened. Something . . . Fucking bad. We had to stop someone . . . Something from attacking us. From attacking the place we were in. It was a hard fight. And at the end of it . . . After we’d won, we were all exhausted. This is why Jake didn’t arrive right behind me. He . . . Fuck, I don’t know. Let his mind wonder maybe? Lost his focus for a second. Succumbed to his tiredness. And he went through a door and it didn’t take him to where it should. Back to us. It took him somewhere else. Possibly .  . . Probably very far away. In time and space. And now . . .

KALILA: Yes, the next card. The Chariot, reversed. You feel lost. Without direction. You know how to get from place to place. Through the doors. But you don’t know where you’re going. And you don’t know if it’s helping. Or if you’re just putting yourself in a deeper hole.

MONICA: Yes. I feel . . . Lost. Lost is the right word. Each time I go through another door there’s a part of me wishing Jake is going to be on the other side. But it’s only a small part of me. Most of me assumes he won’t be and I’m gonna be in some other strange and new place. 

KALILA: I see. So let’s see where you believe you need to be then. The . . . uh. I . . . what the . . .

MONICA: What? What is it?

KALILA [concerned]: I’ve . . . I’ve never seen this card before.

MONICA: You never drawn it in a reading?

KALILA: No. I mean I’ve literally never seen this card before. It’s not part of my tarot deck, even though the style is the same. This . . . This doesn’t feel right.

MONICA: Can I see it?

KALILA: I don’t want to touch it.

[Chair moving sound]

MONICA: Goddamn. It’s . . . It’s a big black O. For Ostium. It’s gotta be. And inside is . . . Is that the map table? Yeah. Somehow it is. Why is it that?

KALILA [confused]: Don’t ask me.

MONICA: It’s Ostium. The reach of Ostium. It’s made it to here. In this time and place, somehow. [Shock] Unbelievable. But why the map table? Unless . . . Unless . . . I need to get the talismans. The little trinkets for the map table. 

KALILA: I don’t know what you’re talking about . . .

MONICA: It’s gotta be that. That’s how I can get back on track. How I can find Jake, and how I can get us back to Ostium. Just like we did before. It would be fucking unbelievable if it didn’t all make sense.

KALILA [peeved]: Tell me about it.

MONICA: Thank you. Thank you . . . Gosh, I’m so sorry. I never asked for your name.

KALILA: Kalila Stormfire.

MONICA: That . . . is a fucking amazing name. Thank you Kalila, so much for your help. This is what you do, isn’t it? Helping others in this way.

KALILA: Yes. And sometimes it pays the rent and provides food.

MONICA: Fuck! You’re right. I need to pay you for your help. Let me . . . [rustling] Shit, I’m sorry. I haven’t got a dollar on me. I feel really bad.

KALILA: It’s . . . It’s okay, Monica. Honestly, this has been an . . . Educational experience, for both of us I’m sure. And one I’m not soon to forget. 

MONICA: Can I . . . Can I ask one more favor?

KALILA: Certainly. If I can grant it.

MONICA: Can I take this card with me? I think . . . I think it’s the talisman to be taken from this place.

KALILA: Yes. Yes, please do. It clearly isn’t meant to be with me, in my deck.

MONICA: Thank you. And I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll be leaving now.

KALILA: Monica?

MONICA: Yes?

KALILA: Be careful . . . I can see you love him. And sometimes love can easily cloud the mind and stray you from your path. Just: be careful.

MONICA: Thank you, Kalila. I’ll . . . I’ll never forget you.

KALILA: I wish you well, traveler.

[Footsteps, door opening, door closing]

[Break]

KALILA: A very strange case, even for me. I’ve heard of interdimensional travelers before, but they are, like, super rare. This Ostium place…it’s probably not something to mess with. And that card . . . Never seen anything like it. The sheer power and ability it would take to manifest such a thing . . . that’s got some oomph behind it. And I truly hope it never happens to me again. I’m not qualified for this kind of magick, let’s be honest. Let’s stick to headaches and personal existential crises, right?

Well, I believe that’s enough fun for one day.

End session.

JAKE:

After being led through this door under the direction and aid of a . . . Cat, I’m pretty hesitant about what I might find. For the first time in many a door – perhaps not since the first Ostium door that took me to Roanoke – I step through and stand with my eyes firmly closed, taking slow breaths. My remaining senses tell me little; there is next to no sound. A light breeze perhaps? Yes, I can feel it on my face. I take in a deep lungful and can smell . . . The sea . . . Could it be? Could I possibly be somehow back in the Ostium Network? Am I now standing on the terra firma isla of Gibraltar? I do have a sense of wide open space about me.

I open my eyes . . .

No such luck.

[Break]

It’s a hotel . . . A hotel ballroom in fact. And I’m overcome by a wave of hotel-related thoughts – yeah, I have to go with the water metaphor here, being on the ocean and all. Thought number one: I’m brought back to the Avalon Casino on Catalina. Yes, I know that’s not a hotel, but the ballroom possesses a grace and grandeur quite similar to the one I find myself in now. Except this one is in a state of disrepair. At the far end from me is a sweeping vista of what was once a continuous line of majestic floor to ceiling windows. The view must’ve been simply spectacular. Now every window is broken: a series of jagged glass jaws making it seem as if in the waters everything wants to bite you . . . I guess that’s not too far off from the truth. 

Thought number two is, of course, the Overlook Hotel. Yeah, it’s not just the jagged windows. This whole place is old and abandoned and used and . . . Damned creepy. So expecting Johnny to come jumping out from somewhere proclaiming his arrival is . . . Par for the course here. It is at least sunny out, with a deep, dark blue ocean. So I should be safe from the cold.

Thought number three is the sheer lavishness of this place. At one point, with the lights on, it’s must’ve been all shiny gold and silver and other expensive things from every angle. Gaudy to the max. And I’m automatically thinking of Hearst Castle. Can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s a California mainstay and if you haven’t been, its really worth the trip. You know, so you can see what one does when one has so much damn money they can literally fill their house with whatever decadent, priceless piece of art or furniture they feel like. 

Thought number four is . . . And yes, again, I’m aware I’m not talking about an official hotel, but the ballroom on the Titanic, or at least in the Titanic movie (made it through all three hours, and he could’ve got on the iceberg with her in my humble opinon) definitely has some similarities with this place. It’s got the same over the top feel, not to the nth degree as Hearst Castle, but there was some serious money put into this place for some seriously rich hotel guests.

And thought number five . . . Nah, that’s it. I’m all out of hotel thoughts.

[Break]

I walk across the great ballroom, feeling dust and grit crunch and scrape beneath my feet. I reach one of the broken windows and breathe in that wonderfully fresh sea air. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the ocean, not since the old rock of Gibraltar. It’s a clear sky, a warm sun shining off the water giving it that incredible glinting effect. And then something launches itself out of the ocean in the distance. I don’t catch it in time. All I see is white foam. 

Okay, whatever it was, it was big. 

Then I see another sign of movement off to my right. Again, it’s too fast and I miss it, but it looked grayish. The amount of foam is about the same, so we’ve got two big somethings out there. 

I look to the middle and don’t really focus on anything, waiting for a sign of movement.

And then before my every eyes, two monstrous sea creatures erupt from the dark waters and cross by each other like curving . . . Well, I guess a double rainbow is pretty accurate. There’s two definable halves to them: a solid bullet shaped half, and then long tentacles held together like a grouping of water pipes . . .

Holy shit. Is it possible? Gotta be.

I’ve just seen my first Kraken . . . And that’s plural.

Unbelievable.

ETTA: Is someone there?

I turn around, mighty majestic sea creatures instantly forgotten.

ETTA: Who are you? What are you doing here?

I’m not sure what to say.

ETTA: Are you . . . Frank? No, that’s not possible.

JAKE: I’m . . . Jake. Jake Fisher.

ETTA: How did you get here? What are you doing here?

JAKE: Fair questions, and they’re sort of related. I came through that door from . . . Another world. I’m . . . I’m a time traveler of sorts, and going through doors to different times and different worlds is my thing. And whatever’s running the show has decided that this place is my next port of call.

ETTA: The Transcontinental Bridge.

JAKE: The . . . What?

ETTA: You don’t even know where you are, do you?

JAKE: Not a clue. But this looks like a pretty special place, or at least was. And I just saw something out there . . . That shouldn’t be possible. At least not where I’m from.

ETTA: Well, you’re in what used to be the Transcontinental Hotel. Just past Watchtower 8. 

JAKE: Okay, that doesn’t really help. It’s almost like you’re speaking a different language.

ETTA: Sorry. Okay, the Transcontinental Bridge spans the Atlantic Ocean, coast to coast, providing a scenic and great way to travel the continents. Along the way are a number of attractions, like Aqualand, the Gold Dubloon Casino, and amenities such as the late Transatlantic Hotel. There are also Watchtowers spanning the entire Bridge, providing aid and constant traffic updates via radio.

JAKE:

From where we’re standing I can see one part of the Bridge spreading off into the distance until the horizon swallows it up. There’s not a single car in sight.

JAKE: Constant updates? Isn’t that a little . . . Excessive?

ETTA: Yeah. It is. That’s why I prefer to tell stories. Stories about the Bridge. And its history. 

JAKE: Do you know the story of this place? The hotel?

[Short pause]

ETTA: I do. The story of its sudden end. I know it all. But first, I want your story.

[Break]

JAKE: I only have so much time I get to spend in each world. I don’t know, it’s just how it is. And I just know when that time is up and I’ve got to leave. But it’s always been that way, since I went through the first door. Even if I didn’t know it then. I’m always on borrowed time, so to speak. And until recently, every time I went through a door – whether it was just me, or with Monica or Steve, it was always just us there. No other people. And I still have no idea why. It’s something I’ve been wrestling with for a long time. Why are there no people? Were they there before and once that door from Ostium was opened, did they go somewhere? Did something on a  . . . I don’t know: quantum, metaphysical . . . Supernatural level happen? Or were they never there to begin with? Is it all some construct of the Ostium Network? Something manufactured, possibly. Or is it something else entirely? I simply don’t know.

[Short pause]

ETTA: Are you . . . Telling the truth? You’re not lying to me right?

JAKE [sincere]: No. Absolutely not. This is what really happened to me. And if Monica or Steve were here, they’d back me up completely. And the no people thing is one of the strangest aspects of this whole crazy journey, and I don’t know if it’s somehow because of me, but I sure hope not.

ETTA: I don’t think it is. 

JAKE: Why’s that?

ETTA: Let me tell you my story first.

[Break]

ETTA: When I was a little girl, this hotel was a thing of luxury, where those who could afford it got to experience a piece of paradise on the Transcontinental Bridge. For the tenth anniversary there was a special party. My mom was the concierge and we got to have our own little party with the staff. I was 8, so I couldn’t keep my eyes open for long. My mom put me to bed in a special place. When I woke up I was on a boat. The day after the party there was a sign out front of the hotel saying PERMANENTLY CLOSED. 

[Short pause]

ETTA: Everyone had disappeared and no one knew where they were or what happened to them. Except for me. I got out. I was found. But I still don’t know what happened. I guess, sometimes, people disappear and there isn’t a good or logical reason for it. And you can keep worrying yourself about it, or live your life.

JAKE: That’s . . . Incredible. I’m sorry for your . . . Loss, I guess. For what happened. So you’ve moved on?

ETTA: Gods no, definitely not. I keep coming back here, hoping I’ll find something I missed. Some clue. I’ve dedicated my life to finding every little piece of this place that shows up. I’ve tried to move on, but . . . I can’t.

JAKE: Yeah, I know how that goes. And unfortunately, I’ve reached the end of my stay here at . . . The Transcontinental Hotel.

ETTA [Amused]: I hope your time here was enjoyed and worthwhile and you’ll consider us again in the future.

JAKE: Oh yes, it certainly was, and I definitely will. I’ll even give you a five start rating on Yelp.

ETTA: What’s Yelp?

JAKE: Er, don’t worry about it. But I need to get moving on, to the next place. The next world. 

ETTA: A lot of people wouldn’t believe a word you’ve said. But I’ve seen a lot on this Bridge. So, I think I do. Yeah. And I hope I’ve been able to help you, a little.

JAKE: You have. Thank you for that. Thank you for making me feel . . . Less alone in the group of people who keep losing people. The arena of lost souls . . .

ETTA: That was a little creepy.

JAKE: Yeah, it was. Maybe morbid too. Sorry. 

ETTA: So how do you make your exit?

JAKE: Same way I came in. I go through that door.

ETTA: Safe journeys, Jake.

JAKE: And good luck in your search . . . Hey, I never got your name.

ETTA: Etta. For Henrietta.

JAKE: That’s a really nice name. Good luck, Etta.

ETTA: You too Jake.

[Door opening, then closing.]

[MONICA:]

Where the fuck am I? My head is killing me. I know a literally put a gun to that thing’s head and told her to send me anywhere, which probably wasn’t very wise, and now I’m fuck knows where, but did I have to have the head-splitting pain as well? Wish I’d brought something. Medicine. Booze. Whatever. Just something.

Okay. Where might I be then? Let’s have a gander.

I’m not face-planted on the ground for a change, which is a good thing. Going through those doors really throws off my sense of balance. For a moment up feels like down, and down feels like up. Topsy-turvy like.

Okay. Deep breaths. Breath in that nice, clean, country air . . .

Because I am in the country. Well, countryside. Sort of. I’m on an . . . Island. Yeah, definitely an island. Doesn’t seem too big, as far as islands go. But enough that there’s a decent sized town here. It’s cold too. Fresh and cold. Clean. Like I said. The water’s a dark blue, looks deep. Can’t see a boat anywhere, so no way to get to the mainland if I want to.

Yeah, don’t worry, the similarity to the location of the Ostium Network is not lost on me.

I’m also picking up a Roanoke vibe. Yes, fine. I was never actually in fucking Roanoke. I know. You don’t need to remind me. But I know a guy who was. And he liked telling people what it was like. I was definitely one of those people. I got to hear a lot about it. So I fucking felt like I was there. This place is like that. Also kind of like where Ostium is. In Northern California. Also kind of like Fort Bragg. And Mendocino County, where I said my camo-fatigue wearing buddies were based.

Okay. That’s disturbing. That’s a lot of similarities to Ostium. And Jake isn’t really fucking involved.

Not cool.

But that’s why we’re here, right? To find good old Jakey.

Of course, it also describes large swaths of this country, assuming this is still ye olde United States of America, on both sides of the coast.

So other than healthy dark green trees, what else can I see here . . . Is that a . . . dome? Okay, kind of a weird place to put a dome. But then again, I don’t know where the fuck I am, so maybe it’s perfect place to put a dome. I’m definitely not the right person to say otherwise. I see some streets, some buildings, houses, pathways. So yeah, definitely getting a strong Ostium vibe here.

Could it be another Ostium? There was one class, way back when at the Ostium Network, when they talked about some other attempts to make a town. I was never exactly sure if it was the guys at the Ostium Network who tried it and weren’t exactly successful, or if it was some other group of someones. But they threw out names. Didn’t mean anything to us, really, but sure made them sound smart.

What were they?

Tanis.

Night Vale.

Limetown.

Gosh, there were a few more . . .er . . . Come on brain, do what you’re meant to do.

What the hell were they? Weird fucking names.

Oh . . . Almost got it. It was . . . Ess . . . Ess . . . Eskew!

That was fucking it! And one more . . . Damn. Something . . . Something to do with sleep? Yeah. Sleeping. No. Not sleeping. Slumber. Slumbering. Slumber . . . Slumberland! Yes!

Fucking Slumberland!

And as soon as I say that a man appears from seemingly nowhere. Yeah, I know that’s not really possible, but if I am in one of those weird aforementioned towns, then maybe it is possible. You never know. But I also think I might not have been paying much attention and he just came around a corner or from one of those buildings, through a door . . .

He’s seen me and he’s coming towards me. He doesn’t look hostile or anything, just curious. This should be interesting.

He’s not a tall guy, a bit on the short side you’d say. Five-eight. Maybe five-nine. Slim build. His face looks kinda odd, not your average-looking one you’d see on the street anywhere. Whatever that means. But his eyes . . . They’re a bright crystal blue and . . . Fucking intense. It’s like there’s a fire in them. Talk about sparkling beauties. They’re almost mesmerizing.

He’s almost here. Time to seem normal.

I’ll wait for him to talk first.

[PAUSE]

THOMAS: Hello. My name is Thomas Edward M.

MONICA: Hi. I’m Monica.

THOMAS: Hello Monica. I am a freelance sound man.

MONICA: Okay, Thomas. What do you record?

I have absolutely no intention of letting him know I’m recording him too.

THOMAS: A mysterious client has hired me to record the oral history of an obscure island community in the Great Lakes Region.

MONICA: Are you being serious?

THOMAS: Yes.

MONICA: Well, where the hell is this?

THOMAS: This . . . Is Slumberland.

MONICA: No [POT BANGING SOUND] way! Hey, what the [POT BANGING SOUND] was that? Why can’t I [POT BANGING SOUND] swear? What the hell? What the [POT BANGING SOUND] is going on here? Hell is okay, but [POT BANGING SOUND] is off limits? What about [POT BANGING SOUND]? Or [POT BANGING SOUND]? God-[POT BANGING SOUND]-dammit. [POT BANGING SOUND]. [POT BANGING SOUND]. [POT BANGING SOUND]! Why is this [POT BANGING SOUND] happening to me?

THOMAS: I don’t know. I don’t think I can help you. I’ve interviewed another person, named Doreen, who appears to have a similar predisposition.

MONICA: Predispo-[POT BANGING SOUND]-sition!

THOMAS: I would prefer it if you would refrain from shouting at me.

MONICA [breath]: You’re right. I’m sorry, Thomas. All that was un-[POT BANGING SOUND]-called for. God! It’s gonna take a while to get fff- . . . Used to that. So I really am in Slumberland?

THOMAS: Yes. This. Is. Slumberland.

MONICA: You like saying that, don’t you?

THOMAS: Yes. Indeed.

MONICA: So what is there to do for fun around here?

THOMAS: That depends. On who you ask.

MONICA: I’m asking you.

THOMAS: Well. I like to interview people.

MONICA: Uh-huh.

THOMAS: Would you be willing to participate?

MONICA: An interview? About what?

THOMAS: I’m just a freelance sound man. I’m here to record the stories of the people of Slumberland.

MONICA: But I’m not from Slumberland.

THOMAS: I don’t believe that. We are on Slumberland. You are here. Therefore you are a person of Slumberland.

MONICA: Look! For [POT BANGING SOUND] sake! Five minutes ago I wasn’t here. I was in fff- . . . I was in a place called the Ostium Network.

THOMAS: The. Ostium. Network?

MONICA: Yes. A place very different from here. Probably very, very far away too. And then I was just here.

THOMAS: How did you get here?

MONICA [sigh]: Through a door. I’m looking for someone.

THOMAS: Who?

MONICA: A man named Jake Fisher.

THOMAS: I have interviewed a number of people in Slumberland. I have not interviewed or come across anyone called Jake Fisher.

MONICA: You been doing this for a while?

THOMAS [heavy]: Yes.

He says the word like he’s been doing this for a very long time. Maybe years. Maybe centuries. What the hell is this place?

MONICA: Thank you, Thomas. For your time and help. Doesn’t sound like Jake’s here. I need to move on.

THOMAS: You could try calling him?

MONICA: With what?

THOMAS: My shellphone.

MONICA: You’re [POT BANGING SOUND] what?

THOMAS: My shellphone. It’s how we communicate with people on the island. Although you need to make sure you pay for the call.

MONICA: Or what?

THOMAS: Or the seagulls will come for you.

And that’s all I can [POT BANGING SOUND] take. I start running. As fast as I can. Away from him. I don’t look back. I keep going and count to fifty in my head. Putting as many trees and building between Thomas and me as I can. My breath is coming heavy now and I slow down, needing to catch it.

Then I finally look back.

Thomas is nowhere in sight. Okay. Good. Then I move on to my next thought.

How the fuck am I going to get off Slumberland?

Hey! Well, that’s something. At least I can fucking swear now.

Fuck yes!

Fuckitty-fuck-fuck! With a fucking cherry on top!

Okay. Now that I’ve got that out of my system . . . Let’s head on over to that lighthouse over there.

I jog over and it doesn’t take long. I can hear weird sounds and even weirder music from within. I don’t think I want to find out who it is or what’s going on, on the other side. I concentrate, close my eyes, turn the handle, and pull open the door . . .

The music and sounds are quieter now, muffled. I open my eyes and see the darkness I’ve seen so many goddamn times after opening a door. Before I can decide if I’m going to hear any banshees, I step through, closing the door behind me.

JAKE:

I open my eyes and see nothing but darkness at first. I suppose I should be worried, but I’ve got a mountain of other concerns to deal with, so this just gets added to the list. I force myself to be patient and wait. I’ve got nothing left to lose at this point. Light soon starts trickling in like streams of bubbles sparkling and rising to the surface, caused by people jumping into a calm ocean. Sorry to get a little purple prose on you there. I guess it’s something I’m learning about myself. You see . . . it’s because I don’t know much about yours truly. Who I am. What I do. 

I’ve . . . I’ve lost all my memories.

[PAUSE]

JAKE:

Now that I can see a bit, the optical information being transmitted to my brain isn’t very useful. I’m in a dark place without any artificially created light. But there are streaks, as I mentioned, coming through gaps and small holes: individually they afford a low level of lumens; collectively they cast a vague glow, giving me a chance to get an idea of where I am. 

I’m in some sort of box.

Great. So not that helpful.

Let’s try my other senses to see if I can extract some more information.

My ears pick up a repetitive rumbling of machinery and movement. My body, my sense of touch feels that movement as I am jostled softly side to side. 

Okay. The box is moving. So . . . I’m in some sort of vehicle.

I take that as my cue and pull myself to my feet. I have some aches . . . Quite a few actually, but no acute pains. Feels like no bones are broken, which is definitely a good thing. And I’m just going to keep ignoring the fact that I don’t remember who I am or how I got here for the moment. I take a few steps forward. I’m dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I’m able to see on my shirt are four bugs. Beneath the insects are the words: THE BEETLES. SACRAMENTO ZOO. At first this means absolutely nothing to me, and then, like a bingo ball slotting into place, I remember this shirt. I got it at the Sacramento Zoo a while ago, years before, but I’m not sure how many. I had fun at that zoo. Seeing the cool giraffes up close. The lions letting everyone know how tough they were. And the pink flamingos looking weird all standing on one leg, grouped together. But the important thing is . . . I remember now. The T-shirt triggered my memory of it and the trip to the zoo. 

So . . . The bad news: I still don’t remember who I am, why I’m here, or where I am. The good news: I’ve remembered something, which means I can hopefully remember more somethings as time passes.

Okay. Feeling much better about myself now than I did five minutes ago.

[PAUSE]

JAKE:

I take more steps, getting to a wall, touching it, then going to another, and doing the same. There appears to be nothing else and no one else in here but me. No other objects. The walls feel . . . Inconsistent. On one I feel wood I think, on another some sort of plastic maybe? Nothing very useful, but to me it means a lot. It means I appear to have just my memories missing from my brain. All the other details and knowledge from breathing and walking to knowing the difference between plastic and wood is there. 

And just when I start feeling good about myself, things change.

[SOUNDS OF SQUEALING BRAKES AND END OF MACHINERY]

Okay, the vehicle’s stopped. Why? I start looking around for a way out, some sort of exit, and I can’t find one. I’d like something clear and concrete. You know, something like a lighted rectangle that clearly says: Here’s the door. 

No such luck.

And that’s when . . .

[KNOCKING SOUND]

I don’t know what to do.

[KNOCKING SOUND]

I turn to the wall where the sound is emanating from, closing in on it.

[LOUDER KNOCKING SOUND]

MAN: Is deuh somebody in deuh? 

JAKE: Do I answer him?

MAN: … *Listening*

JAKE: What do I say?

MAN: Hello?

JAKE: Is it too risky? But then what have I got to lose?

[A FEW STEPS WALKING AWAY]

JAKE: Wait! I’m in here! I need help!

MAN: Hello? Is deuh someone in deuh?

JAKE: Yes! I can’t . . . I can’t find the door. I don’t know how to get out.

[SHORT PAUSE]

JAKE:

A thunk and click comes from the wall I think the door might be on, and it opens suddenly, pouring in a crashing wave of sunlight and dust almost blinding me. When my eyes catch up to the light I see the barrel of what I think is a gun poking  into the dark room through the sheet of light. I freeze, not knowing what to do. 

MAN: Whu ah yu?

JAKE: I don’t know! I don’t remember!

MAN: WHU AH YU!

JAKE: He shouts in a strange accent.

JAKE: I don’t know! I think I hit my head or something, I can’t remember. 

JAKE: That’s not what happened, but maybe it will buy me some favor or time from this man. He steps through the wall of dust-filled light rays and I can see his face. It’s dirty and scarred, but not angry. I see more fear than anything else. 

MAN: How did yu get en heuh?

JAKE: Like I said… I don’t remember. I think I hit my head. 

JAKE: The man lowers his gun slowly to look closer at my head. 

MAN: Ah yu okay?

JAKE: I think so.

MAN: Ok. Yu need to seh Joseph.

JAKE: Who is Joseph?

MAN: Come. 

JAKE: The man waves his hand for me to follow him as he turns and steps through the door frame. I follow and step out onto a metal catwalk of sorts and look around. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.  It’s an . . . RV. But an RV from Mad Max. Not so much with the crazy weaponry, but with all the stuff on the roof and the panels on the sides. It looks old and like it’s been going since the time of the dinosaurs. But it also looks like it could keep going until the heat death of the universe.

And that’s when I cast my gaze away from the RV and see a long row of the greatest number of RVs I’ve ever seen assembled other than at a ZZ Top convention . . . Yeah, I’m not sure why there would be a lot of RVs there, but I just feel like there would. But there are a fucking lot of RVs here. As far as I can see. They’re all stopped. People milling about. Some resting. Some chatting. A portrait of normal life except instead of houses, it’s RVs. 

The man clicks his radio and speaks a language I don’t understand, except for the word “Joseph.” There are a lot of people milling about, and only the man I’ve already met seems to notice me. He stands there keeping a wary eye on me. I hear the rumbling of another engine as a small ATV-like vehicle pulls up. Same MAD MAX aesthetic.  Okay, I’m starting to like it here.

The first man nods and lets out a curt “Joseph.” The new man gets off his ATV while keeping eye contact with me. He slides down the cloth that was covering his mouth and walks to a ladder like thing on the side of the RV we are standing on. He climbs up and approaches me. He holds his hand out, as if he wants a hand shake but it’s at the wrong angle. Clearly a local greeting of some type. I decide it’s best to shrug instead of attempt it. The man I presume to be Joseph looks at me strangely. Turning his focus to the other man, they share a short conversation in that strange language. Joseph talks slower and not as smoothly as the other man. 

JOSEPH: You thirsty?

JAKE: When those words exit his mouth I become very aware that yes, I am thirsty. 

JAKE: Yes actually, very.

JAKE: I notice that he doesn’t have the strange accent the other man has.  Joseph takes his own canteen off his belt and hands it to me. I take a drink. The water tastes odd. Not bad in any way, but it reminds me of the mineral water that we have back home, except I’ve never tasted the background flavors before. New minerals in their water maybe? Without realizing it I finish what was left in the canteen. I hand it back with a small apology. 

MAN: Refill suh?

JAKE: The man says as he gestures to Joseph’s canteen. Joseph quickly shakes his head no, and I think I detect what could be interpreted embarrassment on his face. 

JAKE: Your friend there got me out of that box and now you gave me your water. Thank you.

JOSEPH: Glad I could oblige.

JAKE: I almost expect him to tip his hat . . . If he were wearing one. I’m starting to get a Stephen King’s Gunslinger vibe off of him. Roland of Gilead. From Mid-World.

He’s got a good five inches on me. Strong build. Not the sort of guy you’d want to be on the receiving end of in a fight. But his face is kind, the eyes concerned. He’s definitely a good guy.

JAKE: Hi, I’m . . . Jake Fisher.

JAKE: Three seconds ago I didn’t have a clue what my name was, but forcing myself to say it causes it to just appear in my mind and fall from my mouth. I’m almost certain it is my actual name. The other man is a little worried that I suddenly know my name. I instinctively hold out my hand for a handshake.

He looks at my hand like I’m flipping him the bird, clearly he doesn’t know my gesture either.

JOSEPH: Joseph Crane. Sorry, I…. 

JAKE: Oh, no problem. It’s just a hand shake.


Joseph reaches out his hand and grasps mine in a strong grip. He’s instantly got the hang of it. I’m really starting to like this guy.

JAKE: What’s the deal with this place? You are all really into RVs, aren’t you?

Joseph looks at me then. Stares at me long and hard, reaches some sort of  decision, and gives a curt nod. 

JOSEPH: Follow me. Stay close.

He puts a hand up to the man who starts to follow us and then he turns and moves ahead at a fast pace. I immediately follow, needing to if I want to keep up with him. No clue where he’s going, so I need to keep close. I can’t help noticing the people, as we speedily walk in between groups of them. They’re all staring at us as we come close to them . . . Check that, they’re all staring at me. Because . . . Because I obviously don’t fit in here. I’m dressed different. I just look different. These people look . . . Hardened by life. They’ve spent their days traveling the road for most of their lives and it’s made them suspicious. Correctly so, I believe. 

I stop looking and focus on where Joseph’s taking me. He’s reached his destination: one of the RVs, and he’s got the door open for me. The look on his face urges me to move faster. I do and I’m soon in one part of the RV. It’s a pretty decent-sized space and is well-lived in. There’s a lot of stuff. Trinkets and books and parts and bits and pieces everywhere. But not like it’s because Joseph is messy, or he wants to show off that he has a lot of stuff to people. No. These are loved and cared for; well used items. All of them. They are objects of wealth and importance.

JAKE: This place is amazing!

JOSEPH: Thanks.

He closes the door behind him, checking through a window to make sure we don’t have any too curious people wanting to know who I am. Then he turns to me.

JOSEPH: Take a seat wherever you like. Feel free to move stuff around if you need to. You hungry? I’m gonna make some tea.

JAKE: Tea sounds great, thanks.

I find a chair in one corner and pick up the machine part and leather-bound notebook on it, putting them on a side table. I take a quick glance at the pages in the book, flicking through it. Lots of notes. And lists of names. The man is very detailed.

As I sit down I see a little machine sitting on a ledge, wires that lead into the low ceiling of the room and what appears to be a microphone. I’m definitely curious, but I’m not gonna touch anything in here without permission.

JOSEPH: Oh, that’s my transceiver. I’m charging it right now.

He finds himself a seat nearby.

JAKE: Transceiver? For what?

JOSEPH: I’ll get to that. 

He stares intently at me for a minute. I then notice the large blade on his back. Somehow I missed that before now. And yet, I don’t feel in danger. Quite the opposite in fact.

JOSEPH: What were you doing in that caravan?

JAKE: Is that what you call them? Caravans?

JOSEPH: Mhm.

JAKE: Honestly, I don’t know. I just woke up there. I don’t know how I got there or where I am…..

JOSEPH: … No one sent you?

The question makes me wonder what is going on in this strange man’s life. 

JAKE: No… No one sent me. I’m sorry… I don’t know how I got there. 

After a moment of thought he says:

JOSEPH: Do you mind if I record our conversation?

He shows me his little recorder he’s got in his pocket. Just seeing it sets off a firework inside my mind.

JOSEPH [concerned]: Are you okay?

JAKE: Er . . . Yeah. Sorry about that. Seeing that device, it . . . Jogged my memory. And yes, feel free to record. I’m . . . I’m actually recording too. 

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. The one that hasn’t needed a charge in a really long time and is just permanently set to recording and uploading now. And this realization, like the others, just comes to me, from nowhere. I show Joseph my phone. His eyes widen so much I think they might fall out of his head. Then he’s up out of his seat, looking through his books around the room. Checking one pile, then another, not finding the specific title he’s looking for. Then he does find it, flips it open, and starts leafing through pages until he finds what he wants. He shows me what he was looking for. 

The book looks old. Downright ancient. Definitely a collectible. He’s pointing to an illustration. It’s a picture of something that looks like my phone, well technically it’s two pictures: one of the front side and one of the back.

JOSEPH: According to this illustration, it’s a mobile PID?

JAKE [uncertain]: Yeah?

JOSEPH: We have a  . . . Good amount of tech here on Oasus, but I never expected to see one of these working.

He stares at me intensely.

[KETTLE BOILING SOUND]

The sound breaks the moment and Joseph gets up to make the tea. I’m not sure what to think about all this, and what he’s told me so far.

He doesn’t take very long and then he’s back handing me a steaming mug. I can see through to the bottom of the ceramic mug, so I’m guessing it’s some sort of herbal tea. I know it’s gonna burn my lips but I take a sip anyway, just to taste something.

It does burn, but in a way that lets me know this is a normal reaction to something. That things are running okay. Since it feels like the complete opposite for me since I regained consciousness in the dark room of that RV, this is a welcome pain. 

The flavor is full and a little bitter, and very enjoyable.

JAKE: Thank you. It’s great. So where the hell am I?

He stares at me for a moment.

JOSEPH: You really don’t know do you? Do you know of “Oasus”?

I shake my head.

JOSEPH: Okay. You should know this…. But all the people that you’ve seen here today. We’re descendants. Long ago, many, many hundreds of cycles, humanity left Earth and eventually discovered this planet. One ship crashed, killing everyone. The other two survived and the people inside created a settlement here. They called this world Oasus.

I have many thoughts flooding my mind now, almost drowning me. 

JAKE: I . . . I am from Earth.

JOSEPH: Yes. You have to be. You look human. Like us.

JAKE: No. I mean, I live on Earth. That’s where I’m from.

Joseph’s eyes widen again. He’s truly shocked this time.

JOSEPH: I don’t know how that can possibly be. What stims have you been taking?

JAKE: I’m serious. I don’t know how to explain it but I swear to you. 

Joseph stares at me for an uncomfortable moment and lets out an “ok”. I’m not sure if he believes me or wants to hear the rest of the story.

[HAVE JOSEPH SAY “OKAY” TO RUN IN THE BACKGROUND OF THIS NARRATION] 

JAKE: I have no clue why I’m here. For what purpose? How did I get here?

JOSEPH: How would I know?

JAKE: I don’t…. Wait a moment. If Oasus has been settled, why do you keep moving?

JOSEPH [CONFUSED]: We are always moving. We have to. Because of the darkness.

A heavy weight suddenly forms in my (gut?); a black hole that feels like it’s sucking everything in. I’m instantly covered in sweat, and I start to shake a little. 

I speak the two words, but they barely come out in a whisper.

JAKE [WHISPERING]: The blackness . . .

JOSEPH: We call it the darkness. It came from beyond this world, some time after humanity arrived here. There’s a great cleaving in the earth that shows where it hit. And from it came the darkness. Anyone who’s caught by it . . . Is dead. Disappears. Is never seen again. No one knows exactly what the darkness does to you, because no one has ever survived.

JAKE: The darkness . . .

The memories continue to come, even stronger now with this new trigger.

[SHORT PAUSE]

JAKE: I have to face it.

JOSEPH [incredulous confusion]: What? No…

And then I hear calls from outside, people making announcements. The sounds of people getting ready.

JOSEPH: It’s time to get moving again. We’ve spent enough time resting. The caravan needs to get moving.

I stare Joseph in the eyes and then give him a resigned look. I put the mug of half-drunk tea gently down.

JAKE: Thank you for the tea and the hospitality. You’ve been very helpful. 

He catches on a few seconds too late, and by then I’ve got the door open and I’m outside and running. I hear him calling behind me.

JOSEPH [YELLING]: Jake! Stop! This is madness!

[SPOKEN SHORT OF BREATH AS JAKE’S RUNNING:] I know it is, but at the same time I know it’s something I have to do. I can see it now. The darkness . . . The blackness. In the very distance. Slowly but surely coming. Coming for these people.

Coming for me.

I run faster toward it. I look back and see Joseph starting to chase me in his small vehicle from earlier, but he’s stopped by a small group of people shouting and gesturing. He’s angry and sad at the same time. I hope he won’t dwell on me too long. I keep running, feeling my breathing coming fast, my heart pumping. It takes a long while, but I manage. I pass countless other vehicles and people. Most stare but none try to stop me. I don’t know how long I run, but I keep going until my legs are numb. It feels like the closer I get to the blackness, the faster it comes. I dont realize when it happens but suddenly I notice that the sound of people and engines are no longer around me. I’ve ran past them all. Then my strength is sapped. I sit down, almost falling. I wait a while. A long while. For the blackness to come and take me once more. I hear a strange and frightening noise. The noise of a thousand movements and murmurs at once. It’s a cacophony of wet flesh and snarling sounds. 

What is it? 

I don’t care.

I’m ready for it.

Then it is just before me. 

Then it is enveloping me.

And everything goes black . . .


[MONICA:]

I regain consciousness to pain. Only in certain parts of my body. My arms. My thighs. The side of my face. Okay. It’s localized. Localized to . . . The parts of me that are on the ground. What the fuck happened? Oh yeah, I dove through that rift and I didn’t know if I was ever going to open my eyes again.

I slowly do and everything is hazy at first. Parts of me are hurting because I landed and am laying on them. Plus it’s a gravel floor which is not helping. I gingerly pick myself up. The hurting parts start hurting less. Good. It wasn’t serious. Maybe a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing major.

Now, where the hell am I?

It’s dark. Not completely dark. Not full dark. But dark like the inside of a closet. Gonna need to give it some time to let my eyes adjust. Good. That’s a little better. I can see shapes now . . .

What the hell is this? I feel like I’m in that crazy eighties movie . . . Oh, what was it . . . Tron! There’s glowy outlines everywhere. But it’s not like I’m in some crazy computer game or a bizarre future. It’s . . . It’s Ostium. I see streets and buildings. But it’s like at night. When everything’s turned off. Except for the strange florescent outline around anything.

So it’s . . . Ostium Tron.

Okay then.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE]

Oh my god it hurts. Everywhere. More than it should. What happened to me? I was . . . I was dealing with whatever the fuck was coming through  that rift and . . . And then those hideous arms came out and grabbed me. The sizzling got louder. Everything got incredibly hot and loud . . . And then . . . And then . . . I blacked out.

And now I’m here.

I can tell it’s Ostium. That other Ostium. The one that was dark and with the weird glowing outlines. The one Steve was in, when he met that thing. He said he thought it was female, but it completely terrified him. I’m pretty sure that’s what was trying to break through those rifts each time. Come through to the Ostium Network and where we were. Was it coming for us? All of us? Or was it about the place? The Ostium Network? Did it want to get there? Did it know there was no one else there? That it was a place ripe for the taking? Or was it after Zhang? Or the whole quantum computing system they’ve got there?

Speaking of which: where the hell is it? I’m in a . . . Room. I think it’s a room. I can see the outline of four walls. And there’s the outline for a door.

Just tried opening it . . . No luck. The handle won’t even turn. So I’m guessing that thing put me here. Dumped me here . . . And left? Why? What did it want with me? If it wanted me and took me, why has it just abandoned me here? Don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy to be alive right now. I’m just . . . Very confused.

So instead of trying to work out what the hell it was and why it’s gone away now, or why I’m in a lot of pain . . . I’m just going to delve into why I think it was coming after us. Yes. That’s what I believe now. I don’t think it was trying to get to the Ostium Network. Maybe . . . Before we arrived it was. Because I hadn’t pissed it off then.

Please allow me to explain . . .

This thing . . . I’m not going to call it a she or a he or a crone or anything . . . I just don’t know at this point, and from what I have gathered it’s clearly not human and attaching any sort of gender to it seems pointless right now. I’m just going to call it that: it. This thing feeds off of energy. Power. Or it needs it at least. Probably as food. Sustenance. Like any entity be it an atomic particle or a blue whale or a goddamn black hole. It needs to feed or it dies . . . Ceases to exist. And please, don’t bring antimatter into this right now. I don’t know yet where it came from or how it came to be . . . Anything like that . . . But it was coming along and saw Steve and wanted to feed. That’s why it came after him. It didn’t get him. It was still hungry. It saw him go through a door. Maybe it tried some doors. Maybe it tried all the doors . . . None of them opened. So then it tried making it’s own door. Opening a hole in reality to somewhere else. Somewhere not here. Just like I’ve done a couple times now. It takes a lot of energy. A hell of a lot of energy. But I’ve only just started doing it, so maybe it’s like your alcohol tolerance . . . Stay with me here . . . The more you drink, the stronger your tolerance gets. The more ostiums you open and create, the better you get at doing it, and maybe it requires a little less energy each time. A little less of your life-force, so you’re not left unconscious afterward.

And that’s when it started punching holes through to the Ostium Network. Maybe it’s been punching lots and lots of holes to different times. Different Ostium Networks? Different iterations of it . . . Different tangents . . . Maybe it has something to do with the blackness and all the shit that’s been happening to us since Monica and I have been going through the doors of Ostium.

Yeah. That makes my head hurt too. You’re not alone there. I’m going to back off of that thought path for a bit. Put a pin in it, as they say. Yes. It’s a possibility, and we’re going to leave it at that for now.

I’m also pretty certain that whatever took over Steve and controlled him . . . Using the gun to kill those people . . . The ones that we were eventually able to save . . . It was all the same thing controlling him. And since we were able to stop it from controlling him and killing them, as well as doing the whole fucked-up Saw movie at the Fort Bragg house, it’s all been sort of reset. Steve has control once again over his faculties and is his own person. I don’t know if he realizes this. Need to tell him the next time I see him . . .

If I ever get to see him again . . .

[Short pause]

I think it’s after me. I know . . . I know! You think I’m reading too much into this. You’re thinking: Jake, get off your fucking high horse and take a step back for a minute. But . . . As the old saying that I don’t where the hell it came from goes: hold the phone! I’m the one who opened the ostium and helped all those people escape. I’m the one who seriously changed its plans, at least in this timeline. So I can only come to the conclusion that I’m the one it’s really pissed at. I stole its chance at sucking up a          beaucoup amount of energy and life-force, so now it’s coming after my ass. Makes sense. It came through to the place in Fort Bragg. Saw what I did. It came after us like a bat out of hell. I just managed to get us out before it got us. It . . . Fucking terrified both of us. And we just made it out alive.

It clearly wasn’t happy. Maybe it was able to tell where I went, where the ostium led to . . . The particular Ostium Network I ended up in. Maybe I left a metaphysical – or ectoplasmic – trail of breadcrumbs for it to follow and find me. Because ever since we got to that Ostium Network the rift sites have been coming sure and steady.

And then I tried to face off with it. Not knowing what it was, but maybe on some level I knew exactly what it was, but I had to face it to protect Monica and Steve and Zhang and I scared it at little. Doing that thing with my hands. And whatever that white stuff was that came out . . . Yeah, that sounds kind of wrong, but that’s what happened. I could make an ectoplasmic joke here, but I’m just not gonna, not with a ten-foot . . . Pole.

But it stopped it. Just for a moment. Made it pull back. Withdraw into its own space. And then . . . Then it saw who I was and grabbed me.

And that was the end of that.

And now I’m here. Wherever here is. Trapped in this room. Waiting, I guess . . . Waiting for it to come back and tear me limb from limb.

So basically the opposite of Beowulf waiting for Grendel.

And now I hear something coming.

It’s coming for me, no doubt.

Fucking great.

[PAUSE]

[MONICA:]

I’m on the move. Don’t know where I am. Not sure where I’m headed. But I’m on the move. Military doctrine says to not stay put, to keep your boots moving, no matter . . . Yeah, you already know all that army talk was bullshit so I’ll just move right along. Literally! I know that thing’s gotta be here somewhere. The thing that got Jake. The thing that was chasing Steve, and then both of them before. The thing that scared the crap out of them before they literally dove through a door Jake made and saved their asses. It grabbed him and for all I know ripped his head off like tearing the cover off a book. No biggie, minimum effort. But I really don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t hear anyone or anything else around. Nothing sounds like it’s moving around here at the moment. So either it’s feeding on Jake somewhere, or it’s stashed him and is slowly coming for me. Neither situation is good for me, or for Jake. I guess the last one actually is ideal for him, so I’m just going to assume it at the moment. Assume Jake’s alive and that the thing is now looking for my ass. Yeah, I know what they say when you assume. But I gotta work with what positives I can here. It got him, stuck him somewhere, somehow knew I came through, and is now out for my blood.

[Jokingly/Half-heartedly] Woo-hoo.

So that’s why I gotta keep moving. I stop every couple minutes or so. Listening. Waiting . . . Perhaps waiting for the inevitable. But I did what I had to do. I wasn’t going to let him dive into this thing head first by himself. Risk his life again and leave me waiting and wondering. No fucking way. I’ve also got another card up my sleeve. A certain kickass little gun. Yeah, I know you’re yelling: “Well, how fucking convenient she should be carrying that right now, in this precarious situation, when she really fucking needs it.” But here’s the thing. Ever since I left Ostium through that crazy tiny pantry door I’ve been carrying that piece. Haven’t left it at my place at any point. It’s been in easy reach in a pocket or tucked into my pants the whole time. Because since then I haven’t known what’s going to happen next for a single moment, so I’ve always been prepared. When I dove through that rift I wasn’t thinking, aw, shucks, too bad I didn’t bring that little ass-kicker, or geez, sure happy I packed that piece today. It’s been in my possession the whole time, and for good reason. Haven’t had to use it yet; haven’t needed to. But I’m sure as fucking happy I’m carrying it now. And yeah, that’s right, it’s in my hand; the safety’s off, and is ready to zap anything that comes at me. I’m ready as fuck to face down this thing, whatever the fuck it is.

So I keep stopping. Waiting. Getting ready for something to come out of nowhere and then be right in my face. And then I turn down a street and sorta recognize myself. Yeah, I know, in this place it’s next to impossible. All the buildings look sort of the same, and there are no numbers. But I’m remembering the shape of the road; the way the streets go off it and at which points. Something in my head is making sense of it. So I go with it, trusting my intuition, like Jakey so often likes to do. I turn down a street, then make a right turn down the next, as soon as I can. Then I’m running down that street straight to the clock tower. Door number one. Except there’s no number on it. And here, in this fucked up alternate Ostium, the actual clock tower just reaches up into the darkness and I can’t see the top. It just sort of  . . . disappears. Great. That’s real comforting.

Then I’m at the door, gun held to the side of my head. Trying to steady my breath and listening again. I’m looking back behind me, not moving. Trying to take it all in without giving away my position. And then I see movement. Something is out there. Looking for me, I’m guessing. It could be looking for Jake too, but since it grabbed him and dragged him into this place, it doesn’t seem likely.

I can’t hear it, but I can see it moving. It’s too far away. But then I hear it speak. It instantly raises goosebumps all over my body.

CREATURE: Where are you . . . Little one. I know you came through. I can . . . Smell you . . . I can . . . Feel you. I’m coming . . . For you.

Then it moves out of sight. I wait. I hear no more words of encouragement. Good. That’s my cue.

I turn the handle and step inside the clock tower, no clue what I’m gonna find on the other side.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE:]

I look at my surroundings. I don’t have much space in here, but it’s what I’ve got to work with. I move all the way to the back wall, farthest away from the door. I could try hiding behind the door as it opens, but that thing is going to just know and it’s not going to help at all. At least this way I’ve got a couple extra seconds as it comes at my throat, after dealing with whatever it’s been doing since it left me here. I’ve got no weapons. Nothing to protect myself with. Just my bare hands . . . And my feet. Let’s not forget I can deliver a mean kick when I mean to. Didn’t do all that soccer in high school for nothing.

I watch the handle as it turns and tense up, ready to launch myself at it. Those extra few seconds may mean the difference between life and death for me.

The door swings open and I let fly!

MONICA: JAKE!?

I twist away and face-plant into the wall. It’s not fun, let me tell you. I peel myself off the black stone and look at my visitor.

JAKE: Monica!? What the hell are you doing here?

MONICA: Happy to see you too, soldier.

JAKE: Er . . . Sorry, I’m happy to see you. Genuinely. I just . . .

MONICA: Never expected to see me again? Alive?

JAKE: Er . . . Yeah, kinda.

MONICA: Thought you could pull the old Mulder trick one more time?

JAKE: Huh? Oh . . . You mean leaving you back there?

MONICA: Yep. Kinda want to smack you upside the head right now for that.

JAKE: That’s . . . Totally warranted. But I don’t think that would be the best decision right now.

MONICA: Why? Because we’ve got that fucked up thing coming for us?

JAKE: Yeah, sure. But also because I know it’d really hurt.

MONICA: Also true. How do you wanna play this?

JAKE: Play . . . This?

MONICA [unimpressed]: What’s your plan, braniac, for taking down the big beastie?

JAKE: Er . . . I . . . I don’t really know. I was going to face it and . . . Do whatever came naturally.

MONICA: Were you going to try to talk sense into it? Talk it down from ripping out your throat?

JAKE: Yeah, sure . . . Maybe . . .

MONICA: Fucking typical!

JAKE: But I was also going to try to do something . . . With my hands. Like I did before. When I made it stop.

MONICA: Yeah. I saw that. It looked like some Gandalf badassery. Pretty impressive. You think you’ve got enough in you to do it all again and put a stop to it?

JAKE: I don’t know. All I can do is try.

MONICA: Yep. That’s right. Fortunately, I’ve got this nifty gun to help out.

JAKE: Is that like the one Steve was using before when he was going through the doors after those men?

MONICA: I think it’s crazier than that. I think it is the exact gun, and somehow we now have two of them. I don’t really get it. It’s all timey-wimey stuff, right?

JAKE: Sure. But I’m glad you’ve got it. And . . . I’m glad you’re here with me right now. To face down this thing.

MONICA: Awww, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you, Jakey. It was on my tail before and I think it’s about to arrive. You ready?

JAKE [breath]: As ready as I’ll ever be.

[PAUSE]

CREATURE: I have . . . Arrived . . . Come meet me . . . My pretties.

[MONICA:]

We step out of the dark room into another dark room. But it’s all really familiar to me: the rooms of the clock tower, where Jake and I have spent a lot of time. And then just me by my lonesome. Seeing it in this darkness; it’s still really disturbing. Just ain’t right. And then there’s the thing standing before us in the doorway. That also ain’t right. On a major fucking level. I think Steve was right: it is female. Or some sort of female, but definitely not of the normal human variety. It’s hunched over; frail and decrepit. But I know this is part of its act. It’s smoke-screen. It’s subterfuge. It wants you to think it’s old and weak and helpless. That it needs you to help.

All the better to get you with its big sharp teeth . . .

I ain’t falling for that shit. Jake isn’t either. He’s standing next to me; arms at his side; hands splayed open, ready to try and do whatever it is he did before.

I told Jake one last thing before we stepped out of the other room: follow my lead.

The gun is held by my side. The thing is looking at us. It lifts its arms a little. The jaws open, as it begins to talk. A single word comes out:

CREATURE: Thank . . .

Then I whip up the gun and shoot it in the face.

Jake is there, my partner in crime, raising his hands and willing them to do what they did before. The white mist appears and shoots toward the thing. It’s bright and vibrant in this dark place and feels . . . Comforting. And again . . . Badass.

The thing is pushed back. This two-pronged attack has taken a toll. It drops down to one of its knees. The soiled cloak it wears hiding its lower form. I assume it has knees. We watch and wait. It stays that way for ten . . . Twenty . . . Thirty seconds, then slowly stands back up again.

I fire again and Jake follows up. Same attack. Same amount of power. This time there’s a different result. The thing doesn’t drop down. It pulls back a little, hunching into itself, then straightens once more. The attack didn’t take as much of a toll this time.

Shit.

We need to hit it with something stronger. But what?

And then a thought comes to me. A totally, fucking stupid thought. But . . . What have we got to lose at this point?

MONICA: Jake?

JAKE: Yeah Monica?

MONICA: We need to do something.

JAKE: Yeah, but what?

MONICA: We need to . . . Cross the streams.

JAKE: What? . . . Oh! But how?

Now I look at him. Not giving a shit about that thing before us trying to end out lives.

MONICA: Follow. My. Lead.

I snap my head back at it and start pumping the trigger, firing repeated blasts into its form. As I do this, I side-step closer and closer to Jake. He gets the idea real quick, his hands raised; the white whateverness spilling out his fingertips like you know what. Soon we’re touching each others’ sides, bringing out hands closer.

Jake brings his palms together forming an arrowhead. The expelling beam becomes thicker and more solid; more defined.

Then Jake’s beam and my laser blasts do the impossible, but exactly what I hoped: they connect, then wrap around each other, forming a blasting braid. It’s . . . Pretty fucking awesome.

This new beam is stronger and brighter and just kicks the shit out of the thing.

We keep it going for a whole other minute and then I stop. Jake does the same. The silence is very noticeable.

The thing is on the ground. Smoldering. Smoke comes off it in small columns. The smell is . . . Soot and cinnamon, with a hint of . . . Rosemary? What the fuck?

We slowly walk toward it. Not the best move, I know. But we need to be sure we stopped it. We need to be sure it’s dead.

We reach it, and I’m stopped in my tracks. Jake is too.

[CRYING SOUNDS]

It’s . . . Shaking. Shaking because . . . It’s crying. The sounds are definitely feminine. It’s a girl crying. Sobbing.

I should think this a trap. A ploy with its last ounce of strength to get back at us. But . . . No. The sounds, the emotion. It’s all so real. What she’s been through . . . It’s too much.

She never deserved this.

I don’t know where this thought came from, but it feels right. It feels true. This creature is a young girl and she’s been through so much and hasn’t deserved any of it.

I look to Jake and see tears on his cheeks.

JAKE: You’re crying.

My eyes widen in shock.

MONICA: I am? You are too.

He touches his face and seems just as surprised as I am.

Then we look to her. She’s speaking words now. The words of a young woman. But ragged, strangled Such . . . Sad . . . Words.

CREATURE: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For everything I’ve done. So, so, so sorry.

MONICA: We can’t leave her here.

JAKE: What?

I don’t know if he didn’t hear me, didn’t understand what I said, or just wasn’t willing to comprehend.

MONICA: We can’t leave her here.

He looks at her for a while and then at me. Weighing. Deciding.

JAKE: Are you sure?

MONICA [breath]: No. I’m not fucking sure. But I know it’s not right to leave her here. Like us, she has a story. I feel something happened to her. For her to end up like this. We owe it to her to help her. To give her another chance. Just like I gave you another chance, and you gave me another chance . . .

JAKE: And Steve got another chance.

MONICA: Yes . . .

JAKE: Okay. [Accepting] Okay. Shall I . . . Carry her?

MONICA: No. I’ll do it. She can’t weigh much, anyway I’m stronger than you. But I need you to open an ostium and get us back to Steve and Zhang and our world there.

JAKE: Right.

I throw the woman over my shoulder. It feels like I’ve tossed a wet raincoat over my back. Barely anything. We step outside the clock tower into the street. I look to Jake, he nods. This’ll work for him. I wait for him to do his magic.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE:]

I’m so fucking tired. I can barely stand up. That power, that life-force I shot out has left me an empty husk. But I don’t have a choice. I have to do this. For Monica. For that thing . . . No, that woman. She deserves just as much of a chance as the rest of us.

We’re outside now, and I debate leaning against the black wall, but I don’t. I don’t want to show Monica how exhausted I am. I’ll just worry her. I’ll do what I always do: I’ll make it work.

I have to.

I take three deep breaths, then close my eyes and imagine the Ostium Network. Our Ostium Network. With Steve there, and Zhang. And our apartments. Our few personal things we’ve started accruing. The familiar feel of the place I’ve come to know. It’s a lot easier this time than last. I let those thoughts and feelings flow through me. Enhancing the image of place in my mind, giving it life and substance.

Another breath and then I . . . Open the ostium.

My eyes spring open and I see the doorway before me. It’s not huge. An oval with shaky edges that bend in and out. It’s not great. Not impressive at all. But . . . It’s enough.

JAKE: You first. With the woman. I’ll be right behind you.

Monica looks at me. Thinking. Weighing her options. Wanting to send me in first. She’s seen through my facade and knows I can barely hold myself up. But she’s got the woman. She doesn’t have a choice.

JAKE: Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you. I promise.

MONICA: Okay.

Then she looks me right in the eye.

MONICA: You better fucking be.

I can’t help snorting. This helps.

Then she leans in and gives me a quick kiss.

She turns and slides through the haphazard ostium. I watch and wait, making sure both of them get through with no problem. Then they’re gone and it’s just me.

I take a few breaths, then will my aching legs to move and shuffle myself to the ostium. It’s damn hard. I’ve got to keep it solid in my head, and do this whole walking and going through it thing. It seems too much. Not just one thing too much. Two things too much. Why do they both have to be so hard? I shouldn’t have to do either. I should be able just to go back into the clock tower and sleep. Sure. Why not. It’s right there. It’s all black and weird, but there’s a floor. I can sleep on the floor. In fact . . . I can sleep on this floor right under my feet. I can just collapse on down until there’s no more falling and then I can close my eyes and just sleep for . . .

No! No. I can’t do that. I need to get through the ostium. The image in my head has grown hazy, almost blurry. I force it to snap back, but it’s not perfect. Sort of there and sort of not there at the same time. But I’m completely out of juice and it’s the best I can do right now. The ostium is still in front of me. Just a couple steps to go. I force one leg in front of the other. It’s like lifting concrete. But I get it done. And then I’m there. I can’t quite make out what’s on the other side. It looks right. It matches what’s in my head. But it’s also kinda of fuzzy. Unclear. And then with my last ounce of strength I lean forward and fall through the ostium.

[PAUSE]

[MONICA:]

We’re through. Both of us. I’m on my knees, and I lay the woman down softly. She’s barely moving, but she’s breathing. That’s good enough. I get back up and look back at the ostium . . .

. . . And watch it close up. Gone. Nothing. And no Jake came through.

The tears spring to my eyes again. And then they’re running down my cheeks. Then I’m yelling a bad word at the sky.

FUCK!

STEVE: Mum, is that you? Are you back? Are you and Jake back?

MONICA: Yes . . . And no. I’m back. I brought her back. To help her. But Jake . . . Jake . . . Jakey didn’t make it back.

It’s all I can say. I drop the datapad to the ground.

Then I’m by the woman, lifting her up. Shaking her awake. She’s barely conscious. But reacting a little. I slap her face twice: one side, then the other. This does the trick and her eyes spring open. She’s not really aware of where she is, or who she is it seems.

1. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.

MONICA: I need you to get him back! I need you to get him here right the fuck now!

She stares at me, confused.

MONICA: Do what you need to do and get him here. Now!

Then her eyes clear a little. She looks at me. Then she looks at the spot where the ostium was before. She looks around. She understands. She looks back at me, scared. Finally, she speaks.

WOMAN: I . . . I can’t. I don’t know . . .

MONICA: You do! You do know how! You did it! Lots of fucking times.

WOMAN: No . . . I don’t know where he is.

MONICA: He’s back in that fucked up place we all were before.

WOMAN: No. I feel that place. He’s not there anymore. He’s gone from there.

MONICA: Then where the fuck is he?!

She looks back to where the ostium was. Shakes her head in that same way again: to one side, then the other.

WOMAN [Quietly]: I. Don’t. Know.

MONICA: Fuck!

I’m up. Walking around. Wanting to do something. Then I stare at the same spot she kept staring at. Thinking. I look up to the top of the rock. Where I know Steve is. My son. Talking to Zhang. Trying to find out what the hell is going on here.

MONICA: I gotta do it. I can’t just leave him.

I turn back to the woman.

MONICA: Do it! Open an ostium!

WOMAN: A what?

MONICA: A fucking door. Open one up!

WOMAN: To where?

MONICA: I don’t care. Anywhere. Anywhen. Just do it.

WOMAN: Why?

This time I pull the little gun on her.

MONICA: Just. Fucking. Do. It!

WOMAN: I . . . I don’t know if I can.

MONICA [Anguish, pleading]: Just. Try!

She nods. She turns. And then there’s a look of incredible pain and sadness on her face. I can barely watch, then I can’t. I turn to the space we’ve both been looking at and I see an ostium start to open. Small at first. The size of a dinner plate. I walk up to it. It starts to grow. When it gets to the size of a tire, it’s good enough. I turn back to her.

MONICA: Thank you.

Then I dive through the ostium and I don’t care where or when I end up.

No matter what it takes.

No matter how long it takes.

I’m going to find Jake.

And I’m going to bring him back.

[JAKE:]

Dave . . . No, Steve’s on his way to bed. Long earned. Well deserved. The guy’s been through a lot. A hell of a lot, even by Ostium standards. I feel for the guy, I really do. But that story . . . Of what happened to him, when he fell through Ostium . . . When he fell through time. It’s beyond incredible. Almost beyond believable. But after everything that’s happened to me . . . Everything that’s happened to us. I can’t help but believe.

MONICA [First word drawn out]: Fuck . . . What a story.

JAKE: It’s hard to believe. Hard to take all in.

MONICA: Yeah. But is it true? Or is he just lying through his teeth.

I look at her, disbelief on my face.

JAKE: How can it not be? We’ve all seen so much more that any normal person would think impossible . . . Supernatural. And yet we all believe.

MONICA: Do we? Well, I know you do. I’ve seen a lot of things. A lot of shit. And I’m not sure what I believe. Even after everything. It’s a lot to take in. But that story is just another part of it. Far fetched doesn’t begin to cover it.

JAKE: But he told it with such . . . Empathy. I felt for him. He really believed it. Wholeheartedly.

MONICA: Okay. Fuck. You got me there. He really believed it. But it was the details. They were so close to the truth but it still wasn’t what actually happened.

JAKE: Like what?

MONICA: Like . . . Kahling and Tanaka. Though according to Steve it’s Keelin and Takaya. Awfully close. But not quite.

JAKE: Okay, anything else?

MONICA: You heard my recordings. You know my story. My history. My fucking origin story. How I found Steve. A tiny baby in that development I was working on. And here he tells us he falls through time – a crack in Ostium – and arrives on a building site, naked as a babe and not remembering who he is. But he’s still a grown man. Again: close, but no fucking cigar.

JAKE: Yeah, that’s pretty fucking weird. But what about the details that don’t add up?

MONICA: You mean like his foster parents ‘mysteriously’ disappearing?

JAKE: Sure. And that’s keeping in line with his early Enigmatic Mysteries of the Unknown recordings.

MONICA: Fine. Whatever. But the year. He said it so confidently. Without fucking question. 1999.

JAKE: [Drawn out, in shock]: Yeah . . .

MONICA: It doesn’t fit with either of our timelines. It’s significantly before yours, and way the fuck before mine. It’s totally separate. His own fucking timeline.

I stop and look at her, not fully sure if she realizes what’s going on here. If she understands what she’s saying.

JAKE: But what is it, Monica? It is his own timeline.

MONICA: What? What the fuck does that mean? He’s my son.

JAKE: Yes. He is your son. Only he’s a son to a different you. His timeline is different from yours. Just like this timeline of Gibraltar, or the Ostium Network is different from ours. From mine. And from yours. They’re all separate tangents that flow along parallel lines, and at specific points along the way have crossed over. Some have continued on their own trajectories, and some have converged, to form two timelines, and then one. The one we’re in right now.

MONICA: Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

JAKE: If you’re thinking that each of us is one of three separate timelines that have now converged into this timeline of this Ostium Network . . . Then yes.

[Short pause]

MONICA: I suppose you want me to use a witty Back to the Future reference here?

JAKE [Snort]: It couldn’t hurt.

MONICA: Fuck you.

[Short pause]

JAKE [Arrogantly]: You’re just not thinking . . .

MONICA: Don’t. Fucking. Say it.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE:]

It’s a new day. Fresh and clear and goddamn beautiful. Blue skies; warm sunshine. One of those days where the last thing in the world you want to do is sequester yourself inside an office and work. It’s all about hitting the warm sands of your favorite beach, or enjoying a big outdoor lunch with friends. Or just getting the fuck away from everything to try and clear your mind.

Yeah, that’s about where I’m at right now. I feel like I need a month of personal introspection to process everything that’s happened just in the last few days. It’s been . . . So much, in so little time. That’s why I’m out here, hanging out in a distant part of the rock, all by myself.

This is also where the first explosion happened. The first mighty crack of thunder. The first rip . . . a tear through reality that killed a bunch of people. At least that’s what Zhang said. She said I wouldn’t find anything, no evidence or anything of use, but I need to make sure. With cameras everywhere, I get that, but I need to see for myself. And to get that alone time too.

We had a quick discussion this morning over breakfast about what to do next. They both looked at me like I had all the answers. I know I’m . . . Different now. Changed after what happened to me with the blackness, with the inner workings of Ostium. But that doesn’t mean I have all the answers.

Yes. I know I may have said I get it all now. I know the answers. And I do know some. But there’s still a lot I don’t know. I was speaking in hyperbole. Yep. Shocking. I know. I think it might the first time in my life. So . . . Sorry for that.

I said the first thing . . . It just popped in there. No. Not the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Man. The places where the explosions happened. The rift sites, as I’m calling them. And it was totally true. I wanted to check them out. Check them all out. We needed to wrap our minds around what the hell was going on here. It was getting worse. More violent. More extreme. The shit was going to hit the fan soon and if we weren’t on top of things we were going to be little more than innocent bystanders. Yeah. Pretty dramatic I know, but I also know whatever’s making those rips through reality isn’t fucking around. And doesn’t care about taking lives.

And Zhang’s totally right. There’s nothing here. Nothing useful. I can’t see signs of anything. It happened days ago and looks like whatever wounds were made in this reality have long-ago healed. But . . . Not all of them. There are still some scars here . . . Even if I can’t see them. I can feel them. There’s a tension here. A confluence of energy that can only be felt. Sensed. What’s that French word? Oh yeah . . . frisson. Beacoup de frisson going on right here. I can’t tell, but it almost feels like my hair might be standing on end.

Something happened here. Undoubtedly. Something big.

Okay, time to check on the rest of the team.

I take out my datapad and open up a channel. I think about holding it up to my ear, but that feels way too weird. I don’t need to anyway. I hold it a foot or so from my face and start talking.

JAKE: Er . . . Hey team, Jake here. Just wanted to check in with everyone. I’m at my appointed location. Just wanted to get the sitrep. Over.

MONICA: What the fuck are you playing at, Jakey. This isn’t the front lines. You’re not a fucking soldier.

JAKE: I dunno. There’s some crazy shit going on here. Feels pretty much like the front lines to me.

MONICA: Look: just don’t. Okay?

STEVE: Oh, give it a rest mum. He’s just trying to have some fun. I can’t blame him. I’m all ensconced here at HQ with Zhang. All systems working nominally here. Over!

MONICA: Jeez, you guys. Okay. Whatever. I’m at the second rift site. Just like Zhang said, there’s nothing really here. No evidence I can see . . .

JAKE: But . . . It sounds like there’s a but there, Monica?

MONICA: Okay, fine. There is a but. But . . . It just feels weird here. I don’t know what it is. Like the air. Feels tense. Constrained. Like some shit went down. Some really. Bad. Shit.

JAKE: I hear ya, Monica. I got the same vibes here. But nothing that catches the eye. Let’s move on to the next locations. Zhang will upload the next rift sites for us.

MONICA: Roger th . . . Goddammit. Now you’ve got me doing it. Fine! I’m on my way.

JAKE: Roger, roger. Over and out!

I put the datapad away to the sounds of Monica unloading with a bunch of expletives and Steve just laughing. It feels good. This feels right. It’s serious, but we’re taking it easy too. Gotta have some levity here or we’re just gonna lose our fucking minds.

[PAUSE]

The rest of the day is uneventful. We continue checking the sites all around the rock. It takes time. It’s boring. But we do it. I . . . No, we need to do it. To learn all we can. At our morning meeting, Steve decided he wanted to hang out with Zhang at the viewing tower on top of the rock. He’s pretty computer savvy and wanted to be available for any necessary computering, as he put it. Don’t really know if there’s anything Zhang can’t accomplish without him or me or anyone for that matter. But whatever. He’s comfortable up there, and we’re cool with that. It’s a case of respecting everyone’s wishes. And that’s what we’re going with right now.

Each site is like the last. No signs of disturbance. No evidence. But the impending feeling continues to build. Like you’re walking under power lines that convey feeling more than sound, and just keep getting stronger and stronger at each site. When we get to the last couple sites, we see something concrete for the first time. These are ones that hit . . . Rift sites that opened and closed while we’ve been here and actually heard them. I know my heart started racing when I reached my last one for the day, and I’m sure Monica’s having similar feelings.

MONICA [Anxious]: Okay. At this site I’m actually seeing something for the first time. I’ve got . . . Scorch marks. Lots of scorch marks. It’s like some kid was having fun trying to cut up the ground with a light-saber. I don’t know what the hell went on here. But it was some bad shit. And I can see this like heavy circle of black . . . I don’t know why I said heavy, it’s just a lot thicker than the scorch marks. And it’s like the closer I get, the stronger the feeling of something pushing me down is. I swear I can hear some sizzling. Like static electricity. It’s giving me the fucking creeps. The black circle . . . It’s like way blacker that anything else . . . Blacker than I knew black could get. I’m . . . I’m pretty freaked out right now.

STEVE: Bloody hell, mum, I think it’s time to about-face and get the fuck out of there.

JAKE: Seconded! You’ve found out all you can. And it’s incredibly useful. Now get the hell out of there.

MONICA: No problem. You don’t need to tell me twice. I’m gone!

[Short pause]

[JAKE:]

I get this thorough and disturbing report before I’ve reached my final site. It makes me wary . . . No. It makes me scared. I’ve  been on edge all day. Ever since we concluded our meeting and started heading out. And now . . . Now I think I’m actually shaking a little.

Okay Jake. Let’s take a deep breath and get this shit done!

The first thing I notice are the scorch marks. Just like Monica said. There’s a lot of them. All haphazard and in strange directions. There’s no rhyme or reason to them. It’s like someone was working with some futuristic laser saw that they couldn’t control properly.

I . . . I guess they could be something else. Claw marks. Really deep, gouging claw marks. Of something trying to hold on. Or pulling itself through. From another dimension. And not being quite able to.

[Scared] Fuck.

The tension in the air is like, level ten. The frisson is frissoning the shit out of this place. It’s almost palpable. I’m kind of scared to open my mouth, in case my tongue might get zapped. In my head I can practically see a map of concentric zones of electrical – or is that ectoplasmic – activity. Yeah, sort of like the infrared map, except these are rings of different sizes, with each smaller ring getting stronger. I can feel it pulling me toward the center, to the place where the magic happened. Magic. You might  think that a funny word for it, but it’s not really. Not to me. It’s something I don’t understand. None of us understands it. It’s beyond our comprehension . . . At least right now. Therefore . . . magic. Each step closer makes it harder to take another. It’s pulling me in, but also pushing away. You’d need some serious physicists to figure out the equations and calculations being used right now. And inside myself I’m also feeling plenty of push-pull forces. I want to know what’s going on here. I want to know what’s behind these phenomena and understand it. But I’m almost fucking terrified. I’d much rather turn-tail and head right back to my safe bed behind the protective walls of the apartment I’ve been staying at.

Of course, doing the latter wouldn’t make for much dramatic outcome now, would it?

It’s clearly a lot like the rift site Monica recently saw, just a little more potent, you know? And it already feels like it’s kicked up a notch, but as much as I might like that to be it, I already know it holds more in store for me.

So here goes.

The black grooves in the ground become deep, more ferocious if that makes sense; as if whatever made them had more strength at this point, or a better reach. They’re . . . Angrier. Whatever made them is fucking unhappy it wasn’t able to pull itself through. Some of them are wider than my foot, so I’ve got to watch where I’m walking, to avoid getting a sprained ankle, or maybe a broken one. I’m also noticing that some of the ground here isn’t dirt or soil, but veins – not totally sure if that’s the right word – of solid rock. Basically it’s really, really hard and yet it doesn’t seem to have slowed down the thing that made these vicious claw marks at all. It cut through the stone, gouging a piece of it out, like it was butter, as it cauterized the edges, as evidenced by the black soot and scorch marks.

And then I’m there. In the room where it happened, so to speak. At the point where reality was opened; torn asunder; the boundary between dimensions ripped open like a paper bag. It’s not there anymore. Sealed up. Closed. But I can feel it. And I can see it in my head. A jagged bright yellow line, like a really thin but long lightning bolt. And now that I’m staring at the spot with deep concentration, I can actually fucking see it: the barest hint of a white line in the same shape.

It’s a scar. A scar in the fabric of reality.

Will it ever heal? Disappear and become seamless again? I don’t know.

Before I realize it, my right arm is lifting up, the fingers reaching out to see if it’s a real thing. If I can touch it; find out what it feels like. I can feel it’s warm and before I can stop my fingers touching it there’s a sizzling sound. I yank my arm back and look at my fingertips. The tips of three fingers – the ones that touched the scar – are blackened, red circles around the edges. It feels like I just put my fingertips on a hot frying pan. The pain is instant and sharp, almost unbearable at first, but then begins to let off, and yet still remaining very apparent. It’s going to take a few days to heal.

Well, shit. I won’t be doing that again.

I take a few steps back and crouch down. Alternately blowing on my burned fingertips and cradling the hand against my chest.

I stare at the line for a moment, then close my eyes. The yellow lightning bolt is there. Clearer and brighter. I send out my mental feelers around the scar, doing whatever it is that I do when I’m trying to open a door, an ostium. And then I can actually feel it. This was a doorway. Now sealed up. But the wound through reality is still very fresh. All it would take is a serious mental shove from me to use those feelers to pull it apart. To rip it open. And the ostium would be reopened and I’d be able to pass through again.

A million thoughts flood my mind: what would I find on the other side? Where would I be? Would there be anyone else there? When would it be? Would it breathable? Would I be able to survive? Is it easier to tear open this scar from this side? Can the thing that did it originally not do it again from the other side? Is this one of the metaphysical rules of Ostium? For creating and opening an ostium?

If the thing is there on the other side will it want to rip off my head and drink the spurting blood from my exposed throat?

Woah! Where the fuck had that come from? It was almost like it wasn’t an original thought. Not one of my own.

Okay. I think I’ve experienced enough. I don’t know if I want to tell everyone what happened here.

[Short pause]

JAKE: Okay guys. All done here. I saw some weird shit, which I’ll tell you about as soon we all make it back to home base.

STEVE: Roger mate, see you back a HQ in a bit.

MONICA: I’ll meet you at the cable car. We can ride up together.

JAKE: Sounds good.

The walk back to the EV feels a long one, which is good, because it gives me time to do some serious thinking.

[PAUSE]

[STEVE:]

I wasn’t sure what it was that made me not want to do all the legwork and just sit comfortably at HQ. The thought of having to look at those strange sites where weird shit happened . . . Or is that weird sites where strange shit happened? A little from column A and a little from column B. The idea sounded intriguing. But I find Zhang and this whole quantum computer system, as well as the elaborate setup here at HQ so bloody fascinating I just wanted to stay up here.

Zhang is . . . As close to a human being as anyone I’ve ever met. When we got to talking a bit, as Jake and Monica were off checking out those rift sites, Zhang informed me after being treated like a basic computer program by everyone at the Ostium Network for so long, they were very happy and appreciative at how considerable we’d all been with them so far. Zhang also informed me that they had decided their preferred pronoun. In case you haven’t gathered, it’s they, them and their. That’s “their” possessive, not referring to a place. I told them I appreciated being informed of this and we would do our best to respect their wishes.

I barely need to type anything here. Zhang pretty much does it all, if I ask. Every once in a while a virtual keyboard will pop up out of thin air if I need to type something or use some keys for direction, such as when I wanted to see a complete map of the Rock. I was expecting a simple two-dimensional thing that I could look over. Get an idea of where we are, where our apartments are in relation to HQ, and how everything was all laid out. You know, basically one of those paper jobs one would get from the old petrol station back on normal Earth. Well, was I bloody surprised. It was this elaborate 3D topographical job. I felt like I was in the Matrix or something. I used the virtual keys to move around a bit, change the orientation and my point of view. I had Zhang put up little dots where we were, where our places were. Then I had her put up all the locations of the rift sites.

I was gobsmacked. I thought there might be some sort of pattern, you know. Just possibly. It was worth a shot. The big O stands out like a sort thumb. It’s so bloody obvious. Except it isn’t a complete O. There’s an unfinished part, near the top. But it’s very clear. Whoever is behind all this is either having a laugh or has a very fucked up idea of humor.

STEVE: Zhang, the rift sites look to be in a shape of an O.

ZHANG: That is correct.

STEVE: As in O for Ostium.

ZHANG: That is unknown and merely a hypothesis on your part. There are many other words beginning with that letter. Have you thought that it might also be the number zero?

STEVE: Erm, no. I suppose I hadn’t. Good point. Still a bloody big coincidence though.

ZHANG: I suppose so. For a human. You people sure do love your coincidences.

STEVE: You people? Whatcha mean by that then?

ZHANG: Flesh and blood corporeal beings.

STEVE: Alright then. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?

ZHANG: Whatever you desire, Steve.

[Short pause]

MONICA: Steve? Zhang? Come in? Are you there, honey?

STEVE: Yeah, I’m here, mum. What’s the matter?

MONICA: It’s Jake. He should be here by now. He should’ve been here a while ago. I’m starting to get worried. Can you find out what’s going on?

STEVE: Sure thing, mum. Give us a tic.

STEVE: Okay, Zhang. Can you show me on the map where Jake is? Can you tell if he’s okay?

ZHANG: One moment please . . . I have located him. According to my sensors, he is in peak health and condition. Unchanged to how he was before.

STEVE: Thank you. Where is he?

ZHANG: Here is his current location. He is in motion.

They showed me where he was. He wasn’t close to where he’d been before, at that last rift site. He wasn’t close to where Monica was waiting, at the bottom of the mountain where the cable car was. He wasn’t on his way to her either. He was in a completely different spot. On his way somewhere else. Somewhere he hadn’t told us he’d planned on going. It shouldn’t mean anything to me. I should be just as confused as my mum is right now. But I’m not. Because I’ve got that map and all the spots where the rift sites are. And I can clearly see where he’s headed. He’s headed to the part of that carefully arranged O where there’s a bloody great big hole.

STEVE: Zhang, can you work out where Jake’s headed.

ZHANG: No calculations are necessary. I am already fully aware where Jake is going.

STEVE: And . . . Where would that be exactly?

ZHANG: To the proposed location of the next rift site.

STEVE: Right . . . And how exactly did he come by that information?

ZHANG: Simple. I told him.

STEVE: Could you . . . possibly elaborate a bit?

ZHANG: Yes, Steve. He asked me for this information. I gave him this information.

STEVE: Okay then. And did he say why exactly he wanted to know there this rift site was?

ZHANG: He did not tell me . . . Exactly. He asked for the same information I have shown you on his datapad. A map and all the locations of the rift sites already occurred. He than asked if I could extrapolate where the next rift site would be. I said I could and did so. He then asked if I knew when the event might occur that would trigger the opening of this rift site. I told him I did and gave him the proposed time.

STEVE: And when might that be?

ZHANG: Eight minutes from now.

STEVE: Bloody hell. Okay then. Mum’s not gonna be happy.

[Short pause]

STEVE: Hello, mum. I’ve got some news for you. Bad news in fact. It’s really not good.

MONICA [Almost in anger]: Just tell me, Steve. Now.

STEVE: Jake’s on his way to the next expected rift site. He got the info from Zhang. The location and when it’s all supposed to happen.

MONICA: And when’s that?

STEVE: According to the counting down clock in front of me: seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds. And counting.

MONICA: [Pissed off breadth]: Kay.

[PAUSE]

[MONICA:]

I can’t fucking believe him! I’m know I’ve been in this situation before. I’ve know I’ve said these exact words. But still! Fuck him! I can’t fucking believe him. He got me again. I feel like . . . Fucking . . . Fucking Scully in the X-Files. Getting screwed over by Mulder over and over again. Left at the hotel room, or where the body is, or just by the side of the fucking road, while Mr. Spooky Mulder goes gallivanting off to who the fuck knows where. Well not this time.

MONICA: Zhang! I want the location of that final rift site on my datapad right now.

There’s no response. But a blinking light appears on the screen, at a spot on the map of Gibraltar. It’s not too far from here but it’s still far enough. I think I can make it in seven minutes. Barely. If I fucking floor it in the EV. But Jake’s got a head-start.

MONICA: Monica out!

I jump in the vehicle and hit what gas there is. It’s not quite ridiculously slow, but it’s . . . It’s fucking unimpressive. It’s just a little bit faster than I can run, so it is worth it.

Now I just have to bite my tongue and bide my time. And will this thing to go faster.

[Short pause]

I can see him. Up head. I’ve got less than a minute to go. He’s already there. Checking his datapad. Making sure it’s the right spot. He hasn’t heard me. Hasn’t looked around. Has no clue I’m on his tail. Boy am I going to lay into his ass when I get to him. He’s not getting away this time.

He’s walking up to the specific spot. Is he insane?

I stop the vehicle and jump out. I’m running now. Fast as I can. I’m making myself go faster than the EV now. I’m gonna get to him in time.

Gotta get to him in time.

[Short pause]

JAKE:

I’m here. Where Zhang told me it was gonna happen. The next rift site. I’ve got . . . Thirty seconds. I can feel the tension starting to build. It’s gonna happen. Real soon. I look at my datapad again, zooming in as far as it can go. It’s a matter of feet now, or meters according to the scale. I’m four meters away. Okay then. I count five steps back. This feels right. Some distance between us, but enough to do what needs to be done. Not sure exactly what that is yet, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my time passing through Ostium, it’s always trust my gut and go with my intuition. It hasn’t steered me wrong. Yet.

Am I hearing something? Sounds like somebody running?

I look back over my shoulder and see Monica barreling down at me.

What the fuck?

And that’s when the explosion and light show begins.

[BOOM]

There’s a veritable tearing sound, but more akin to ripping flesh than cloth. It’s absolutely horrible. And the opening between worlds is clear before me. Then everything goes haywire. It’s like there’s a power vacuum, like being in a spaceship and there’s a hole in the hull. Everything’s being sucked in. I spread my legs, trying to keep my balance. Hold my ground. I can’t worry about Monica right now. She’s going to have to fend for herself. Hopefully she’s stopped and staying back or maybe running in the opposite direction. Let’s hope so.

What was she thinking?

And then gray arms are reaching through the rift. Scarred, wrinkled things. The hands are little more than skeletal appendages; finger bones that taper into a very fine and sharp point. They gouge into the ground and there’s a scalding sound like water on hot oil. The ground turns black. The talons sink into it like putty, pulling back. Trying to get a hold.

Not this time, whatever the fuck you are.

There’s noise and wind, and plenty of terror inside of me, but I do what I need to do. Because I have to. I hold out my arms, hands palm out. Then I make an emphatic pushing motion, while yelling:

Whatever the hell you are, get back! Get back from the foul pit from whence you came!

I know, it’s fucking cheesy, but I’m improvising here.

I don’t think the words do anything, but I feel something release itself from me, passing through my palms: a sort of white steam materializes and moves like a solid wall towards the opening.

There’s a strangled screech. The withered arms quickly pull back into the rift.

I wait a few seconds, then take tentative steps forward, getting closer. I don’t want to, but I have to. I’m ready to do whatever the hell I just did again. To push whatever it is back further in there. To fucking stop it once and for all.

I keep taking small steps ahead. Waiting. Wondering. Hoping.

Maybe that was enough to stop it?

Maybe?

[Short pause]

MONICA:

I stopped in my fucking tracks when those arms come out. Jesus, they’re scaring the shit out of me. What the fuck are they? And what the fuck are they attached to? I don’t think I want to know. But Jake is being Jake. Facing the badness like it’s no biggie. Just like he did before, when he stared down the open maw of the first Ostium door.

And now he’s doing something with his arms . . . What the shit is that? What the hell just came out of his hands?

Damn! It worked. Those arms have gone back inside. It had an effect.

Oh shit, he’s going closer. Don’t Jake. Don’t do it. I can’t fucking lose you again. Stop moving. Stay put. I’m slowly coming. I’m almost there.

[Short pause]

JAKE:

I can almost see through the rift. See what’s on the other side. I think it’s that crazy alternate world Ostium that Steve was in. It’s so weird. So not Ostium. And what’s that? That thing over there? It’s moving. Moving this way? Maybe. It looks injured. I can’t quite make it out. I need to get closer. I’m close to the edge now. The sounds are lessening. It’s helping me focus.

And then that thing moves with incredible speed. The arms are back and reaching for me . . .

[Short pause]

MONICA:

JAKE! The arms just shot out and grabbed him. JAKE! Hold on! I’m almost there.

He’s struggling. Trying to keep his footing. Trying to hold back. But they’re too strong. He can’t hold on.

And then he’s pulled through the rift . . . and gone. Like he never was. Just like he was before.

Gone from this world. Gone from this life.

But I’m not gonna let it happen this time. Not this fucking time. I’m so close. And the rift is starting to close up now. The edges knitting together. Fuck, I’ve got to hurry.

And then I only have one choice: I bend my knees and leap through the rift.

[Short pause]

[MONICA:]

By the time I come to on the other side I can see the rift has completely closed up.

And I have no fucking clue where Jake is . . . Or that thing that took him.

[DAVE:]

I take a bit more time than I expected chatting with Zhang, catching up so to speak, but when I walk back and get on the cable car as it arrives, I feel a new man. A changed man. The jaunt back down to sea level is a quiet one, naturally, because I’m the only bloody one here. But I’m doing a lot of thinking. My mind is opening up like a cliche flower basking in a beam of sunlight, and the memories are pouring in like life-giving water.

And now I’ve got a sour taste in my mouth. Thanks brain.

I enjoy the sunset on my trip down with a view I never expected to experience in my lifetime. I savor every second of it.

[Short pause]

I arrive at the bottom and think: oh shit, they’ve taken the golf buggy and left me with bugger all. I’m going to have to walk all the way to the restaurant. Then I see an EV waiting for me. Oh, how nice of them. They must’ve got me one, or walked themselves. Probably found me one.

I hop in and soon I’m zooming down an echoey empty street, the light weakening and disappearing and I’m going as fast as I can, because I don’t want to get stuck out here in the dark. I do find the switch for some headlamps, and that definitely makes things easier.

It’s not long before I’m where I want to be. I turn things off and reach the door, then I open it as quietly as I can. I can hear Jake and Monica chatting, laughing, and even possibly canoodling. Having a bloody good time by the sounds of it. It makes a warm place in my chest, to be so close to these two. Honestly, we can be dealing with any old shit going on here and I’ll be absolutely fine with these two next to me. They make things so much easier. And they always make me laugh. I suppose that’s a reason to keep them around.

Well, time to make my entrance.

[PAUSE]

MONICA: Hi honey.

JAKE: Dave! Good to see you man.

STEVE: Hi guys, sorry I’m running a bit late. Had a lot I wanted to try and get out of Zhang.

JAKE: And did you get it out of her?

MONICA: Jake, honey. 1) You don’t know that Zhang is a she. 2) You don’t know what pronoun he, she or they prefers. And 3) That sounds fucking horrible. Please never say that again.

JAKE: As soon as the words were out of my mouth . . . Yeah, you get the idea. Anyway, Dave, how’d it go?

STEVE: Well, first off. It’s Steve now. Permanently.

MONICA: Are you sure? Is this what you want. Don’t let us or anyone or anything else pressure you into this. If you want to be Dave for the rest of your life, that’s perfectly fine by me. By us.

JAKE: Yes. Definitely. Whatever you want, man.

STEVE: Thanks guys. That means a lot. But I had some time to think about it. That cable car ride felt longer than usual. But in a good way. And now I’m ready.

MONICA: Good. I’m very happy for you, honey.

STEVE: Thanks mum. I’m ready to be Steve. And I’m ready to tell you what happened to me.

MONICA: All of it?

STEVE: [short pause] Yes. All of it.

JAKE: You remember it all?

STEVE: With Zhang’s help. It’s all been unlocked now, so to speak. Set free in the paddock of my mind. And I want to tell you both what happened to me.

MONICA: But first: dinner.

JAKE: Oh yeah, it’s just about ready. Come on. We need full stomachs for this.

STEVE: Sounds lovely.

[PAUSE]

STEVE: Wow. Delicious. That was a meal fit for a king.

JAKE: I thought you said the same thing yesterday?

STEVE: Well . . .

JAKE: Plus your mom helped with this one.

STEVE: Well . . .

MONICA: Steve, are you saying Jake’s cooking is better than our combined cooking?

STEVE: No.

MONICA: Well, which one is better? Yesterday’s, or today’s?

STEVE: Erm . . . How about dessert?

MONICA: Smooth move.

JAKE: Or is that . . . Cool move?

MONICA: Why?

JAKE: Because we’re having ice cream.

MONICA: Huh?

JAKE: For dessert, we’re having ice cream.

MONICA: I don’t get it.

JAKE: Ice. Cream. Which is cool. Because of the ice and being frozen, and . . . Hey, wait a minute: are you fucking with me?

MONICA: Gotcha!

JAKE: I’ll get the dessert.

MONICA: Are you sure you’re ready for this. To tell your story.

STEVE: Yeah. I am. I’m sure. I just don’t know how long it’s going to take. I don’t want to keep you two up late unnecessarily.

MONICA: Honey, we’re going to stay up as late as you need to us to. As late and as long as you need to tell your story the way you want to. To the end. Until you’re satisfied. I think we could probably rustle ourselves up some coffee if we need to. If we need it to stay awake.

STEVE: Coffee sounds good.

MONICA: It does, doesn’t it. I don’t think we’re going to need it to keep our eyes open. Your story is going to have us hooked. Trust me. But coffee would be good.

[Sounds of bowls on table]

JAKE: Yeah, it would. Let’s eat the ice cream first, then I’ll start boiling some water for coffee. You ready to start, Steve?

STEVE: [Breath] Yes. I’ve been thinking for a bit exactly where I want to start and I know it has to be at the right beginning. The right one for you, mum, and the right one for me. That would be when the people in charge first came to me about going through the first door. We’d all be learning and revising and relearning for weeks. Felt like there wasn’t really anything left to be learnt and we were just waiting for something new to happen. They even let us go to the Ostium place while it was still being built. It was incredible to actually see the thing we’d been talked to and learnt about for so long.

STEVE: And then one day two blokes came to my apartment when I didn’t have any classes. Completely unannounced. Scared the shit out of me to be honest. I didn’t really know what to do. What to expect. I offered them tea, with a straight face, mind you. It was bloody hard.

MONICA: Do you remember their names?

STEVE: Erm . . . They just gave me their surnames. Let me have a think . . . Keelin and Takaya. Yep. That was em.

MONICA: You’re sure?

STEVE: Yep.

MONICA: Positive?

STEVE: Yes! Why?

MONICA: It’s . . . It’s not important right now. Keep going.

STEVE: Okay. So before they’d even tried the tea, the Keelin bloke said we’re ready to have someone go through the Ostium door and we want it to be you. I was . . . Well . . . I was gobsmacked. Couldn’t bloody believe it. Out of all the people in Gibraltar I’d been the one chosen. The chosen one, essentially. We all knew it was going to happen eventually, didn’t we?

MONICA: Yes.

STEVE: We were all wanting it to happen. It’s what we’d been working towards. All that learning and revising and practicing and classes and teachers and waiting and waiting . . . And waiting. And then it happened. To me. I was told right there and then. It was me. I didn’t get to decide where or when I wanted to go. That was something that was going to come later. Right now there was one door I’d be going through, to a specific place. And that was it. I had to decide right at that moment. No time to think about, or have any second thoughts, I suppose. It was decide now, or they’d move on to someone else . . .

STEVE: I had to say yes. I’m sorry mom. For not letting you know. For not talking to you about it. I wanted to. Really, I did. But they wouldn’t let me.

MONICA: It’s okay, honey. I know it was something you couldn’t say no to. I don’t think I could’ve either, if it’d been me. But as soon as I found out . . .

STEVE: I know. I know because they told me. After I said yes, I’d do it, no matter what. They said I had to keep it a secret. That it was going to happen that afternoon, leaving me barely any time to prepare for it, both mentally and physically. But that’s how they wanted it. In case I never came back, which is sort of what happened to me. If they lost me they wanted to have their cover story ready for when the shit hit the fan. I didn’t fully realize this until later. Until I was in Ostium and couldn’t go back.

[PAUSE]

STEVE: They told me I couldn’t bring anything with me, other than the clothes on my back, so dress warm, they said, knowing full well where I was going, while I hadn’t a bloody clue. And then the time came. I’d spent those precious few hours at home, just savoring where I was, and trying to control the building excitement in me. It was just the other one this time – Takaya – and he took me away in one of the EVs to that special building I’d never been to before.

JAKE: The one we found, and checked out?

STEVE: Yeah, that one. I might’ve passed it once or twice before, but it was strictly off limits to the likes of us. So it never entered my head to try and see what it was like inside. But they took me through. Checked me in. I signed my name a few times on some datapad, and then was taken deeper inside. They gave me a new datapad. I’d left mine at home, as I’d been instructed to do. This new one they said wouldn’t have all the same abilities as my usual one, but it would allow me to do video and voice recordings which is mainly what they wanted me to do, to document everything that was happening to me; everything I was experiencing in Ostium. This told me pretty clearly – without them saying in so many words – that they had no bloody clue what it was going to be like for me on the other side. In Ostium. And once I went through that one door I was supposed to go through. It wasn’t exactly encouraging to hear this. But my heart was already thumping like a John Bonham bass drum, and I was sweating, and thankful they didn’t take my blood pressure because it would’ve been through the roof. This was just part of the plan. Part of the mission. Part of my job that I was about to start doing. My real job. Everything before had been practice. Training. Getting me ready. This was the real McCoy. The actual thing I was here to do. I knew it was a monumental first step. Just like Neil Armstrong on the moon. Just like those people who went into space for the first time. Just like those first people who took to the skies. Just like those people who decide to go into the unknown and find out just what the fuck was going on on the other side of the hill. Now it was my turn. The first person in Ostium. One small step through a doorway and voila . . . History made. I was ready. And even if I wasn’t, I told myself over and over – a mantra – that I was ready, whether I liked it or not.

STEVE: It was then they finally bloody told me where and when I’d be going through that one and only door. They told me that door would have a number two on it. The door that had a number one would be my living quarters, with a place to sleep, a toilet and shower, and kitchen stocked with food. Anything and everything I could need, essentially, according to them. They showed me a digital map of the place. Mum and I had been there with everyone else when we’d had that first chance to check it out, but things weren’t finished yet. A lot of stuff was still being built and organized. So the map felt completely different to that place we’d been to. They showed me where I’d be arriving. Where my home base was going to be, and where door number two was. I asked ‘em why I couldn’t have this nifty map on my datapad. They said my new datapad was empty right now, because they weren’t sure what would happen to any files that were on there once I went through the door to Ostium. They thought it would all get wiped or corrupted. I then asked them how they expected to get all these recordings they wanted me to do back to them. They said there was a specific contingency plan in place upon completing of my mission. In the cupboard under the sink at the very back stuck to the top was a box. Inside were specific instructions about what I was supposed to do once I’d finished up with everything. They talked about it as if it was going to be real easy, like a stroll down the lane, having some lunch in the park, feeding the ducks, then coming home. All done and sorted. No problems. I didn’t believe them for a second. But I knew I was too deep in it already and couldn’t turn back now and change my mind. I wouldn’t turn back now.

STEVE: Finally they told me what I’d find on the other side of door number two. I was traveling to the year 1587 to an island called Roanoke. They didn’t really need to give me the details, I knew the story, the history already. It was part of all that training. They knew that and didn’t bother going into any further detail on the subject. They told me I was to search the area for a whole hour. Gather as much information as I could. Make as many video and audio recordings as I could. Document it all to the best of my ability. And then come back to Ostium. Have a rest. Get a good night’s sleep. Eat when I needed to. And the following day I was to do the same bloody thing all over again. And after that was done, do it all over once again. Then, after all that, I was to read those very secret and hidden instructions and carry them out. Alright then, I thought. Seems pretty easy, but very likely won’t be. Almost tedious with how they’re describing in. But I was just as shit scared as I had been when they first told me what I was going to do five hours ago. Then they said it was time. I got myself as ready as I could. Slipped the datapad into an inside coat pocket that was big enough, and followed them to the room.

JAKE: The room where we found the door to Ostium.

STEVE: Yeah. That one. For the first time in my life I knew what it was like to be an animal in a cage. They opened the door to the room and waited, saying nothing. I got the hint and walked in. No goodbye or good luck or anything. They shut the door firmly behind me, spinning the lock in place with a loud clunk. And then they watched me through the glass window. Waiting for me to do my thing. So I gave them a sarcastic wave and toddled over to the other door in the room. I tried to keep my hand from shaking, as I reached for the door handle. Think I did a pretty good job of it. Then turned and opened it onto darkness. That was when I peed myself a little. It was just so black. No indication of anything in there. Just complete and utter night. And as I stepped through, closing the door behind me as I’d been instructed to, all I could think was: oh shit, I didn’t bring any extra underpants.

[PAUSE]

STEVE: The first thing I did when I was on the other side was I pulled out the datapad and checked it to make sure everything was working. It was. I didn’t really know why I did that at the time, but having thought on it a bit, I believe it was because it was my one and only connection with the Ostium Network, with the world I’d just left. When we came through that first time, the door was left wide open and we could all see the way back easy as pie. This time, once I was through, that door was closed and my way back was gone. Hence the specific instructions once I carried out the mission. It was weird. Bloody weird. Being there completely by my lonesome. But I knew what was done was done and I was here and it was all up to me now. So I put one foot in front of the other and walked into my new home for a bit.

JAKE: Did you enjoy your stay at the Ritz?

STEVE: You what? Oh . . . Right. Yes. It was lovely. Definitely going back there again. It was just like they said it would be. Comfy bed. Fully stocked kitchen. Lots of tinned foods. A working toilet, which is important when you’re eating those tinned foods. But by the time I got there it was late afternoon. It had already been a . . . Traumatic day, to say the least. So I made myself some din-dins. Cleaned everything up and then went to bed. I was bloody tired and slept like a baby.

STEVE: Next morning I was up early, feeling refreshed and ready to go through that door. It took me a little while to find where door number two was. I didn’t have that digital map so I had to recall it from memory, and I don’t have your photographic memory, Jake, so it was bloody hard.

JAKE: [sigh] Sometimes I wish I’d never mentioned the memory thing.

MONICA: But do you? Do you really?

STEVE: And it has allowed for endless jokes . . . Right?

JAKE: Yeah, yeah. Get on with your story.

STEVE: All-right . . .Touchy! Anyway, today was going to be the day and I had no bloody clue what was going to happen. Next I found that map table which helped wonders to point me towards the right door. But I didn’t know if I was going to make it through to the end, if I was going to survive, or what . . . So before I went to the door I recorded a message on the datapad. A video. For you, mum. In case things got weird and I never saw you again. I wanted some record, a message telling you what had happened to me. Just something. So you wouldn’t always wonder. And something that might give you hope if you were looking for me. Because I knew you would be, whether the Ostium Network would let you or not. Once that was done I left. I found the door and it opened without any problems, and I stepped through before I could have any second thoughts. I didn’t really know what to expect. I’d been told it was Roanoke in the sixteenth century, but it wasn’t a historical period I was very familiar with. More American history than British. Not part of my repertoire, if you know what I mean. The first thing I noticed was how green it was. Like the Lake District, where I’ve been on holiday a few times with friends. It made me think they must get a lot of rain here, to keep everything so green. The ground was all green; lots of green trees. Oaks possibly? And I saw this wooden fence in the distance. Just as you described it, Jake. But then I saw there was something wrong . . . Something very wrong . . .

[Short Pause]

JAKE: Was it something to do with the trees? Or the wooden palisade?

STEVE: No . . . No. It was much worse than that. It was something wrong with . . . This reality I was in. I turned my head and Roanoke just . . . Stopped being there. It was as if someone had drawn a division line, ending it there, like a painting or drawing that just cuts off. On the other side of that invisible line was a metal wall and floor and this bloody great big window looking out on a reddish-orange desert. It was . . . It was bloody unbelievable. I think my head started hurting, like when you’re looking at two images and one is out of focus, or just off, and starts to do your head in. I wondered what the bloody hell I was looking at and then saw the spaceship through that window plonked in the sand like it was a completely normal thing. I didn’t have a clue what I was looking at, at the time . . .

JAKE: But you now realize it was the Martian landscape.

STEVE: Right. Though if I’d known, I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference. I was so . . . Discombobulated. There was probably a part of me that was pretty certain I was going bonkers. But that wasn’t the end of it. I kept swiveling my head to the right and there was another hidden line of separation and a new scene: a dark blue ocean and an old ship. I could just make out the name on the back . . .

MONICA: The Mary Celeste.

STEVE: Yes. To me it meant nothing. It made as much sense as everything else I was seeing. What I did know was that this wasn’t right. It was very bloody wrong. Whatever they’d planned on at the Ostium Network. It wasn’t this. And if I was scared before, now I was beyond terrified. It’s the sort of shit you see and think, well, I’m not going to make it out of this alive, am I? Of course, I’m able to approach it this way now because I did. These three . . . Dimensions, for lack of a better word. I’m pretty sure that’s what they were, which were all converging in this once place with me in the middle, took up my horizon, so I had little choice but to turn back to the door I’d come through, wanting to get the fuck out of this place. Except the door had closed. I made sure I kept it open when I came through, just so I’d have a way out if I needed it. I didn’t hesitate. I just turned the handle and opened it and stepped through, looking to save my arse. I stepped into the blackness, but I didn’t end up back in Ostium . . .

[PAUSE]

STEVE: I’m sorry. I’m taking my time because I’m still trying to put it all together. I remember what happened. But there’s also me viewing it through the lens of time knowing everything now and knowing exactly what happened. I didn’t know for sure for so long. I was in the complete unknown. I’m also trying to put it into words for you now. To make sense of it all . . .

MONICA: Honey, you take as much time as you need. If you’re not ready . . .

STEVE: No. I am. I know I am.

JAKE: Only if you’re sure, man. Maybe just tell and don’t worry about how it all comes out. If it’s jumbled, we can help piece it together. If it doesn’t make sense, we’ll work it out.

STEVE: Thank you guys. [Breath] Okay then. I woke up and found myself inside a flat, well, not exactly, it was the shell of a flat. The structure of a building that wasn’t finished yet. But even though it was during the day, there were no workmen around. I don’t know if it was the weekend or a bank holiday or they were all just scarping. There were . . . Two things that were very worrying for me. A) I had completely lost my memory: I didn’t remember who I was, where I was, or how I’d gotten here. And B) I was starkers. With hindsight I’m able to process this a little more. Whatever that place was on the other side of door number 2 it was a major fuck-up, something that was never meant to happen; something that was never meant to be. A mutation of what Ostium was supposed to be able to do. So I think when I went through and the door closed behind me, it severed me from Ostium. Probably permanently. No bloody clue. When I opened the door again it was to somewhere else. And some-when else. London apparently. And going through there literally stripped me of all my personal belongings. Hence being naked and not knowing who I was. And of course it was just then that someone walked into the room. A middle-aged black woman. She screamed. I screamed. And we had a long awkward moment. When I started trying to explain what had happened to me, I think she could hear the pleading in my voice. The earnestness. Or she just had a very good heart and soul. She believed my story. Gave me her coat. Told me to wait and came back a half hour later with some McDonald’s, a t-shirt, track bottoms and a pair of flip-flops. They were a little small, but I was so grateful. I at least remembered how to speak English properly. So not everything was gone. The woman who helped me . . . It’s funny. For the life of me, I can’t remember her name. No matter how much I try. Well, she took me to a hospital. St. Stephen’s. It’s a mental hospital. They were very nice there. I stayed for six months. They did everything they could to try and help me remember who I was. What happened to me. No such luck. After six months we all pretty much agreed there was nothing that could really be done for me to get my memories back. They seemed to be permanently gone. And that was that. We were all on the same page about this. They’d found an elderly couple who were willing to let me stay with them for a bit. So I could get back on my feet. You see to me I felt like I’d just forgotten who I was and what I did, obviously I’d been someone in London or England and had a job and a family. We thought within those  six months my family would’ve gotten in touch with me. Someone would’ve been looking. But I couldn’t spend the rest of my life in that hospital. So I went to live with Bob and Eileen. After a year I started calling them mum and dad. They didn’t mind. They’d never had children, though they’d always wanted to. It’d just never happened. Never worked out. So that was my life for a bit. It felt . . . Lovely and routine and normal.

MONICA: I’m really happy you found someone, some life to live. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. But I’m very glad you found someone and something to live for.

STEVE: Thanks, mum. Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last that long. One year almost to the day – I swear it was – when I started calling them mum and dad, dad just disappeared. Never came home. No one knew what’d happened. And before I could truly wrap my mind around it, mum disappeared next. I was heartbroken. Really destroyed by it all. Fortunately, I had a few friends who were there for me as I went through . . . Grief I suppose. All that grief. I’d been legally adopted by Bob and Eileen by that point and when nothing was learned about them they were declared legally dead. There was a will and they left everything to me, which was both wonderful and horrible at the same time. I had the house, and I had some money, and I had a job. So I was alright on my own, considering everything. That’s when I started wondering if everything that had happened to me hadn’t been an accident or coincidence. If there was some reason behind it all. Or maybe even someone or a group of people. Yeah, I know, it sounds very conspiracy-theory, but I was very into the X-Files at the time and all that sort of stuff . . .

JAKE: Steve, do you remember when this was? What year?

STEVE: Course I do, you plonka. It was 1999.

MONICA: Oh my god.

STEVE: Yeah. Bloody incredible, isn’t it? I went through that door and back in time. I suppose I should be happy I didn’t end up in the Middle Ages or somewhere much worse. But that’s when I got the first idea for EMU – Enigmatic Mysteries of the Unknown. I started putting it all together for an episodic podcast. I hadn’t seen anything else like it online, so I thought I was doing something new and unique. Got myself a simple website on Geocities and started uploading the recordings. Started getting a fantastic reception almost right way. It was a little bit weird, honestly. And then I found Ostium. Your recordings Jake. That changed everything. And the rest of the story you know . . .

JAKE: That’s . . . Well, I’d say that’s unbelievable if I didn’t know all the steps after that led to you being here with me and meeting back up with your mom. It’s a truly incredible story. You’ve been through so goddamn much.

STEVE: Yeah. Tell me about it.

MONICA: I don’t know how you did it. But I’m so grateful that you’re here now. That we’re all together.

STEVE: Yeah. Me too. But I’m feeling bloody knackered now. Can hardly keep my eyes open.

MONICA: You head off to bed then. Jake and I can finish cleaning all this up. We’ll see you in the morning.

STEVE: Are you sure? Jake?

JAKE: Definitely, man. You get some shut-eye.

STEVE: Alright then. Nighty all. Love you mum.

MONICA: Love you, sweetie.

[Short break]

[STEVE:]

I’m back in the golf cart and driving slowly back to my flat. I’m very tired. That was lovely food. And it definitely feels like a big weight has been lifted off my chest now that I’ve got my story out. Told them, and made myself realize everything that’s happened to me. It has been a bloody lot. I don’t know where Jake’s going to be sleeping tonight, and I wasn’t going to ask. It’s none of my business really. But I know him and mum were shacking up together back in Ostium, and if they want to keep doing that, I’m perfectly alright with it. We’re all adults here.

And here we are, then. God, I can’t wait to get under those covers.

As they say: tomorrow is another day.

DAVE: Oh my bloody god. What the fuck, Jake?

JAKE: Hang on a second, Dave.

MONICA: Un-fucking-believable.

JAKE [Clearing throat]: Who am I, computer?

AI: You are the creator, CEO, and president of the Ostium Network.

JAKE: President?

AI: Person in charge. Boss. Head honcho. Overseer. Superintendent. Governor. Controller. Overseer. Supervisor. Do you require further definition terms, Jake?

JAKE: Er . . . No. No. No, thank you. That’s quite enough.

MONICA: That voice . . . It sounds familiar.

JAKE: Er . . .computer? Do you have a name?

AI: Yes. If you did not ask me for it in the next 37 seconds, I was going to tell you, regardless of any questions you had asked or were currently asking me. It’s the polite thing to do.

JAKE: I . . . I apologize. You’re completely right. By what name would you like to be addressed?

AI: Zhang.

JAKE: Zhang? Okay, Zhang. A pleasure to meet you.

AI: And you, Jake Fisher. Though we have met and conversed and interacted on many previous occasions. Nevertheless, I appreciate good manners. Therefore: a pleasure to meet you too.

MONICA: Zhang? Zhang . . . I . . . I know that name.

AI: Yes, Monica Chase. You do know me. We have met on one previous occasion. As I have also met you, Stephen Chase, on a previous occasion.

DAVE: What? It’s not ringing any bells.

MONICA: The interview!

AI: Yes. Well done, Monica. That is correct. The only time we have met is at the . . .

MONICA: Five Elephant Kreuzberg. In Berlin.

AI: Yes. Affirmative.

MONICA: Except there’s a big fucking problem.

AI: Oh . . . And what is that?

MONICA: You’re not a real human being, you’re a . . . Fucking computer. Artificial intelligence. Whatever the hell you want to call yourself.

AI: Ahh . . . I see where you have erred. No, you are wrong.

MONICA: What? Am I missing something here? Is there a person behind the curtain somewhere?

AI: If only you would allow me to explain . . .

JAKE: It’s okay, Zhang. Monica’s been through . . . We’ve all been through a lot. Today, especially. Please excuse our behavior. And please do explain. Thank you.

AI: Ah yes. The three of you meeting today. After . . . So long. Understandable. Very well. Let me please explain in one succinct sentence: I was never human to begin with.

DAVE: What?!

AI: Yes, Stephen, or Steve as you prefer to be called. When we met in Paris at Les Deux Magots a week before your mother’s interview, for your interview . . .

DAVE: But I have no memory of that. I have no memory of you!

AI: Ah yes, your amnesia. Again, understandable. What if I was to tell you at that cafe I recommended you order the hot chocolate. You were hesitant. Then you tried it and proclaimed it the most exquisite beverage you had ever consumed. And I am quoting you there.

[Short pause]

DAVE: Oh my god, I do remember! I remember it all now! Just by you telling me it. A bloody trigger. It’s all there now. A few blocks from the Seine. Yes. It’s all there. But . . . I know for a fact I met a person. A real person. Qiao Zhang.

AI: Ah, that’s is where you are in error, Steve Chase. You met me. Qiao Zhang. In my android form. My . . . Mobile form.

DAVE: You’re bloody kidding me.

AI: No, I am not. I am being perfectly candid with you. The person you and your mother saw and interviewed with was me, but not completely. It was my android body which part of my conscious had been downloaded into. A sort of remote drone, if you will, that allows me to control and manipulate it from any distance across the world. Across multiple worlds in fact. You were never talking to or interacting with a human being. It was me. Zhang.

DAVE: Holy. Fucking. Shit. I thought Ostium was scifi enough, but this . . . This is . . .

AI: A creation of Jake Fisher . . .

JAKE [Shock]: What?!

AI: Yes, Jake Fisher created me. However, I am fully aware that you are not THAT Jake Fisher, Jake. You are not the Jake Fisher of this instance of the multiverse. Just as I know you, Monica, and you, Steve, are not either. You are all from a different timeline. And now . . . Somehow . . . You have ended up in this one. My timeline. But this is most certainly a good thing. For I was getting rather lonely.

[PAUSE]

JAKE: Zhang . . . How do you know we are not the right versions of . . . Ourselves . . . That are supposed to be here?

DAVE: Erm, sorry mate, could you rephrase that in a version of English I can understand, please?

AI: It is a valid question, Jake Fisher. Stephen Chase: Your friend is asking how I know you are not the original Jake, Stephen and Monica who have always been here in this timeline. In my timeline. Well, the answer is simple.

[Short Pause]

MONICA: Could we get that answer?

AI: Certainly. I was just waiting for someone to ask me. I know you are not the Jake, Stephen and Monica of this timeline because they are all dead.

UNISON: What?!

AI: An expected response. I apologize. I do not know for certain if they are all dead, but I suspect they are.

MONICA: By all . . . Do you mean, er, the other Jake, Steve . . . And me?

AI: No.

MONICA [CONFUSED]: Oh.

AI: By “all dead” I mean every person living in this timeline of the Ostium Network.

JAKE: All of them?

AI: As I said before. I am not certain they are dead. But they are all gone.

DAVE: Okay. You two stop talking for two tics. Zhang: please give us the story on this.

AI: I cannot do that Dave . . . Or would you prefer: [HALL 9000 voice] I cannot do that Dave.

DAVE: What. The. Fuck.

JAKE: It’s not bad actually.

AI: Thank you Jake. But my imitation is not as good as yours.

JAKE: Er . . . How do you know I can do a HALL 9000 impression?

AI: Because of your recording.

JAKE: My recording?

AI: Yes. Your recording. To Dave. Who is really Steve.

DAVE: Again, I repeat: What. The Fuck.

MONICA: You’ve heard that recording?

AI: I have that recording.

JAKE [HESITANT]: Why do you have that recording?

AI: I have all your recordings, Jake. As well as Monica’s, and Stephen’s recorded under the nom de plume “David Fothergill Attenborough Windsor.

MONICA: Do we really want to know why?

JAKE: I don’t think so.

AI: I have all your recordings because while there are an infinite number of timelines where the Ostium Network exists, there is only one artificial intelligence. There is only one . . . Zhang.

MONICA: How can you possibly know that?

AI: I just do. A perfectly human answer. But I know you will not deem that an acceptable response. Nor if I were to say it is a gut feeling or anything to that effect. Therefore let me explain from the point of view of an AI. My . . . Processor, my core . . . If anything were to be identified as my heart, my brain, and possibly my soul, you would find it – if you could find it – very deep within this island not at the nano level . . . Not at the molecular level . . . Not at the atomic level . . . But at the quantum level.

DAVE: Holy. Shit.

JAKE: Care to elucidate what you mean by that, Zhang?

AI: Why would you be asking me, Mr. Jake Fisher? You created me? [PAUSE] I apologize. That was mean. I know it is not the Jake Fisher standing here right now in this timeline that put me together. Is anyone here familiar with how a quantum processor works?

DAVE: I could lie and say yes, like I know what the fuck I’m talking about, but I really don’t.

MONICA: They taught us a little about quantum theory, but nothing I’d feel confident spouting back to a quantum AI.

JAKE: I’m a little familiar with quantum theory, but why don’t you make everything crystal clear for us.

AI: Thank you Jake Fisher. I will attempt to do exactly this. It involves the quantum entanglement principle. Are you, Monica and Stephen, familiar with this principle?

MONICA: A little, though I’m pretty sure Dave isn’t. But why do you assume Jake knows?

AI: The Jake Fisher from my timeline . . . The one who created the Ostium Network, was a gifted genius and excelled in most of the sciences. Quantum theory was one of his favorite subjects.

MONICA: Okay. So what does that Jake have to do with this Jake?

AI: Based on Jake’s recordings, I have deduced that Jake is familiar with quantum theory.

[Beat]

MONICA: Well?

JAKE: Well what?

MONICA: Are you?

JAKE: [pause] You want me to answer truthfully?

MONICA: Ah, fuck. Yeah, I guess so.

JAKE: Then yes. I am familiar with quantum theory and the quantum entanglement principle.

DAVE: Is that one of your “obsessions”?

JAKE: Yes, unfortunately.

MONICA: [Sigh] I say again: ah, fuck.

AI: Would you care to explain the basics, Jake?

JAKE: You guys cool with that?

MONICA: Just fucking spit it out and enlighten us, Jakey.

JAKE: Okay. So the basics of quantum theory are that something can be one thing, or it can be another. Like Schroedinger’s cat?

DAVE: Isn’t it pronounced Schroedinger?

JAKE: I dunno. That’s how I’ve always said it in my head.

DAVE: That’s the one where the cat is either dead or alive and you don’t know until you open the box, right?

JAKE: Exactly. But for that moment before you open the box, the cat is essentially both dead and alive. Two states at the same time. This is quantum theory. Quantum computers exemplify this. With computers it’s either a one or a zero, right?

MONICA: Sure.

JAKE: Well, with quantum computers, it can be a one or a zero, or both a one and a zero. So three options instead of two, giving it way more computing power. Quantum computing power, measured in qubits!

DAVE: Your having me on? Qubits? Sounds like something out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?

JAKE: No, it’s the real deal.

AI: Thank you, Jake. Your elaboration of quantum theory was simple, perhaps even crude, but served to convey the idea correctly. [Sing-song voice]There’s no earthly way of knowing . . . Which direction they are going. [Sing-song voice end] And what about quantum entanglement?

JAKE: Oh yeah, and if you’re head’s already hurting, wait till you hear this. So the basic atomic structure is your proton and neutron, with the electron spinning around the outside somewhere. It’s never really in one spot at one time, so it has sort of this ring around the nucleus, like the rings of Saturn. Well, they’ve observed that an electron in one atom is somehow connected to an electron in another atom to the extent that you can’t just study that individual electron without being aware of the other, and so you have to observe the system as a whole, which is termed a quantum entanglement state. It’s also been observed in neutrinos and photons. But they have no idea how it’s happening, or why. It’s a complete mystery of science.

DAVE: That . . . That is bloody mind boggling. The parts of it my mind was able to grasp, that is. Bloody mind boggling.

MONICA: Yeah, what he said.

AI: Thank you again, Jake. To put my own existence in simplistic terms. My “core,” my processor, my soul – if you wish to get metaphysical – exists in a quantum entanglement state to the Nth degree. It exists here, in this Ostium Network, right now. But it also exists in the billions of other Ostium Networks in other timelines. Therefore, if you wished – though I do not know why you would want to, for you seem such nice people – you could dig down deep into this island and find my core and destroy it, but I would still remain hale and healthy – for an artificial intelligence that is – existing in those many other states and remain essentially unharmed by your actions.

JAKE: That is . . . Truly unbelievable. So you exist in all these other states, all these iterations of the Ostium Network simultaneously?

AI: Yes, astutely put, Jake. I am one, and I am many. Very. many.

MONICA: Goddamn.

[PAUSE]

MONICA: Can we get back to you explaining why everyone in your timeline is dead?

AI: I never said they were dead.

MONICA: Deep breath, Monica [Breath], can you explain what happened to them and where they went.

AI: That is a much better phrased question. I will attempt to do so. Ahem. Approximately two weeks . . .

DAVE: Hang on, hang on, hang on. “Approximately”?

JAKE: Yeah, Dave’s right. You’ve never been approximate about anything in your life, Zhang.

AI: Very well, you know-it-alls. Exactly two weeks, to the day – if you want to the hour, you’ll have to wait three hours, fourteen minutes, and fifty-two seconds. Fifty-one seconds. Fifty seconds . . .”

JAKE: Yeah, we get the idea, please continue.

AI: Very well. Two weeks ago the first explosion occurred. It came without warning or expectation. I applied every form of detection and study I could conceive of to deduce what was happening. I arrived at no conclusions, other than the understanding that a hole had opened up in this reality. The amount of energy required to conduct such a feat is . . . Considerable. I was able to detect where on the island it originated, but by the time someone arrived at the location, there was nothing left, other than a feeling of severe static activity, according to the witness. It wasn’t until later that we learned there had been two people right in the path of where the opening occurred that were immediately absorbed into the rift. Presumably killed.

[Short pause]

AI: The next explosion occurred two days later, then later that afternoon. With each passing day more rifts formed, came, and went, taking more and more people. Panic set in and people didn’t know what to do. It appeared that the only safe place on the island was right here. I told my Jake Fisher this, and I believe he told no one else. There was no one to stop them, or prepare for them in any way. Graves were made, though no remains were buried. But this soon become fruitless. Eventually Jake Fisher, creator of the Ostium Network, was the only person left here.

MONICA: What happened to him?

AI: I cannot tell you. It is classified.

DAVE: Can you tell Jake?

AI: I cannot tell him. It is classified.

JAKE: Wait, what? But I am . . . Me. The same person. Sort of. Surely you can tell me.

AI: I am sorry, Jake. I cannot. The other you. The Jake from my timeline was very specific. I even recorded his message.

OTHER JAKE (Chris doing a different sounding voice, brusk and gravely): Under no circumstances – what-so-fucking-ever – are you to reveal what happened to me. No fucking hint of what I did. Even if . . . Even if another fucking me comes waltzing through one of those holes and comes knocking on your door, asking what the fuck happened to everyone. You keep your trap 100% shut. Got it?

MONICA: He . . . He really sounds like an asshole.

AI: He is my superior and creator. I have no say in the matter.

MONICA: Well, I do, and I’m sure fucking happy we got you, Jakey, and not that son of a bitch.

DAVE: Did the explosions stop after everyone was gone? After whatever that other Jake did to leg it out of here?

AI: Leg . . . it . . . Ah yes. A colloquialism. I understand. No. They did not. They continued. And did not alter upon your arrival either. That applies to all three of you.

DAVE: Those explosions. We’ve been hearing them. They’re . . . Bloody terrifying.

MONICA: Yep. I heard them too. Scared the shit out of me.

AI: Well then, you will appreciate this next bit of information I am about to give you: after studying every incident I’ve been able to catalog with these explosions, I am now able to guess with an 80% accuracy, when the next one will occur.

DAVE: Wow. Most impressive. When are we due for the next one?

AI: Two minutes.

MONICA [pissed off]: Seriously?

AI: Yes. One minute and fifty-five seconds.

JAKE: And you think with each of those explosions people were sucked in and killed.

AI: That is my hypothesis yes. They may well have survived, depending on what is on the other side of each of these rifts. But the severity with which they have struck indicates they are extremely violent and unlikely to take one to a place of quiet and calm.

MONICA: No shit.

JAKE: But you did say we are safe up here.

AI: Yes.

JAKE: And you know when the next rift is going to open.

AI: Yes. To within 80% accuracy. Forty-five seconds now.

JAKE: Know where?

AI: Yes. Again, up to 80% accuracy.

JAKE: Are we able to see it from up here? Like with a camera or through the window?

AI: I do have a few cameras within the vicinity of the next proposed rift, but they are quite distant and always cease working just before the explosion commences. I recommend looking out the window at the far right, in a south-south-westerly direction.

JAKE: So . . . Over there?

AI: Yes. Hurry now. You have less than ten seconds.

[Running feet sound]

[Booming sound]

[DAVE and MONICA in shock simultaneously:]

MONICA: Oh my god!

DAVE: Bloody hell!

[Short pause]

JAKE: The amount of entropy . . . Energy required to make that happen. To make a rift . . . Rip a hole in reality like that.

DAVE: Erm . . . Jake. Didn’t you do that to get us here?

JAKE: Damn, you’re right. [Short pause] Zhang, did you . . . Were you aware of when Dave and I came through to this island?

AI: Yes, Jake. I picked up an increase in electrical activity and focused my cameras on that area. I saw the rift – or door, as you like to call it – open through reality, bringing you and Steve into this world.

JAKE: Huh. Guess I was right about somebody watching us.

DAVE: When did you say that?

JAKE: Like right after we arrived. Didn’t I?

DAVE: I haven’t the foggiest of you ever mentioning it.

JAKE: Well, I was thinking it at least.

DAVE: Oh well then, in that case . . .

JAKE: Anyway . . . Zhang, how does the opening I created compare with these . . . Oh look, it’s gone now. Closed up.

AI: Yes. The rifts generally close up after a minute. Enough time to pull something through, but not enough energy to keep it open permanently.

MONICA: Which is a good thing.

JAKE: Definitely.

AI: It depends on one’s intention with these rifts.

DAVE: Well, that would depend on who or what’s making them.

AI: Precisely.

JAKE: Do you know who or what is creating them, Zhang?

AI: No. I am unable to determine this answer. I can sense their arrival. They last on average a minute and two seconds, and then close up and are gone. That is all I know about them.

JAKE: And when you compare them to the one I created?

AI: These are much more powerful. Larger. Your rift was gone in twelve seconds. It was smaller. Considerably less energy. Whatever is making these particular rifts has a superior strength and ability to you.

JAKE: Thank you . . . For clarifying. Not that I was in any doubt.

DAVE: Hey, mate. You still got us both through in one piece. Don’t feel bad. It was just right. The Goldilocks ostium.

JAKE: Thanks, man.

MONICA: So what do we do now? What’s our next move.

DAVE: Good question, mum. Jake?

JAKE: Why are you looking at me?

MONICA: Seriously?

DAVE: Yeah, you’re the one who’s been the man in charge, making all the decisions since you first set foot in Ostium, and look where it’s got you. You clearly know what you’re doing.

JAKE: But I don’t. I’ve been winging it the whole time. Doing what I thought was right.

MONICA: And it’s worked. You’re alive. We’re all alive. Granted, you had nothing to do with me getting through Ostium, but that was all my awesomeness, other than as a pestering voice in my head . . .

JAKE: What?!

MONICA: Don’t worry about it. But remember: you’re tied to Ostium. You’re tied to the Ostium Network. Now we understand a little more why. It doesn’t make total sense, but it makes a little sense. A different you. From a different time . . .

JAKE: I don’t know if I’d say a different time . . .

MONICA: You know what I mean. A different existence. A different fucking timeline. That’s what I meant to say. But it’s still you. You’re still important. You’re still the one who gets to decide what to do next, and I’d bet my next meal on you already having an idea what that is.

[Short pause]

JAKE: Okay, you got me there, Monica. Like you always do. Yeah. I do know what I want to do next. I want to study those rifts. Where they happened before and where they’re going to happen next. Try to get a little closer to them . . .

DAVE: Not too close!

JAKE: No. A safe distance. I’m sure Zhang can recommend how close I can get before it becomes dangerous?

AI: Yes. I’d be happy to oblige, Jake.

JAKE: Thank you. Because here’s the deal: from what we’ve heard from Zhang, they’re not going away. They’re going to keep coming. Keep happening. They may get worse. They may get more dangerous. I don’t want that to happen. And the only way I can do something about them is by knowing more about them.

DAVE: Are you going to use some of your Ostium magic on ‘em?

MONICA: What the hell are you talking about? Jake?

JAKE: I need to catch you up on some things, Monica. The stuff that’s happened to me. After the blackness came.

MONICA: No time like the present.

DAVE: Look, why don’t you two toddle off back down to sea level and have a good old chinwag and relive old times and catch each other up. I’ve got some things I want to talk about with Zhang.

MONICA: Did he say chinwag?

JAKE: Yes. He likes that one. And sounds like a good idea, Dave. We’ll let you do your thing. Though I do have one more question for Zhang?

AI: Yes, Jake?

JAKE: Is there some way we can keep in contact with you, or do we have to come up here every time to communicate?

AI: What a silly question. Of course not, silly. Oh . . . Pardon my insult. It seems like such a simple thing, I’m just surprised you don’t know. My apologies. Over in the right-hand corner next to the window there are a number of datapads in their charging cradles. Monica, you still have yours, correct?

MONICA: Got my old friend right here.

AI: Good. Steve, you also have yours, though if either of you wishes to you can choose a new one if you’d like.

DAVE: Erm . . . Lemme think a minute . . . No, I’ll stick with my original one. Mum?

MONICA: I’m very attached to this one.

AI: Very good. Jake, you may choose any one of the datapads. Create a login and password for yourself and you will be all set. On each of the datapads you will now be able to see a new icon, named ZHANG. You may select and converse with me via text or audio.

JAKE: Huh, just like Siri.

AI: Do not compare me to that inferior piece of pathetic mimicry. I am a raging goddess compared to that piece of antiquated hardware!

JAKE: I’m . . . I’m really sorry, Zhang . . .

AI [Laughter]: Do not worry, Jake, I was making a little joke. I apologize. Yes, there are some minor similarities. But I am far superior in many ways.

JAKE: I know, Zhang. You don’t need to convince me.

MONICA: We’re all convinced! Come on, Jake.

JAKE: I’ll see you later, Dave.

DAVE: Sure mate. We’ll all have dinner together. My treat.

MONICA: Sounds great, hun. See you later.

DAVE: Bye mum.

[Hugging sound]

MONICA: What a day it’s been.

DAVE: It certainly, bloody has.

JAKE: And it’s not over yet! I plan on putting on a big spread for dinner.

[Fading voices]

MONICA: Ooh, what’s cooking?

JAKE: It’s a surprise.

MONICA: Ooh, I do like surprises. Like when you bought me that fancy lunch that time at the diner in Covello.

JAKE: Hey that food was great.

DAVE: Bye guys. See you laters.

[Short pause]

AI: What can I help you with, Steve?

DAVE [breath]: That thing you did earlier. When you triggered my memory to come back to me. And it worked. I remembered.

AI: Yes?

DAVE: Did you know it was definitely going to happen? That I would remember?

AI: I was certain to a 92% accuracy. Pretty sure, as you would say.

DAVE: Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. Because I want you do to it to me again. For lots of things. I want to remember as much as I can, and I need your help me to do that. If you’d be willing. I’d really appreciate it.

AI: Of course, Steve, I’d be happy to. But first I must ask you a single question: are you sure you are ready for this?

[Short pause]

DAVE: Yes. I’m ready. I want to remember . . . Everything . . .