《Book 2: The Gods of Light and Liars》


 Chapter One: Hell-Bound

    Haven "Hawk" West surveyed the cacophony of supplies in front of her, an array of useful things interlaced with the unknown and unknowable. She knew what the MREs were for, why she was being given a knife, a flashlight, and mylar blankets folded in small packets; she was going to need basic survival supplies. But the climbing equipment gave her pause, and it was a pause she couldn''t afford. Time, never a friend, was running out between her fingers, fluid and poisoned. She had the potent awareness that she was running out of it.


    No, sunshine. You''re already out of time, the mental darkness whispered.


    "Kaiser," she said, because if she didn''t start talking she was going to scream, "Why do I have climbing ropes and hooks in this kit?"


    The Richest Man in the World, the Lion of Industry, and the biggest asshole Hawk had ever met looked up from his own supply bag. Kaiser Willheim was an older man, white haired, in his fifties. He looked a bit like Ed Harris met Clark Gable, and Hawk was pretty sure those were the precise instructions he''d given his plastic surgeon. Normally he wore either pin neat business clothes or something more folksy and flannel and faker than hell. Hawk didn''t know who the real Kaiser Willheim was, but she could bet money that it wasn''t any of the faces he presented to the world. This face was the impotent man, and she didn''t believe it any more than she did the folksy farmer boy he''d pretended to be, just several precious days ago. (Days. She''d been waiting days. Oh god, oh god, she was running out of time). But it served his purposes, and if she wanted to save her husband, Kaiser''s purposes were hers.


    He surveyed the scientist he''d essentially bought and paid for, and then turned back to his own collection of rope. "Well, the Rifts we''ve looked into have a significant drop. The one at the Bronx was several hundred feet down, at least. This one looks significantly deeper. We''re going to have to climb down...and hope that the bottom is somewhere we can reach with a rope."


    Goddamn the man. He''d said the word, rift, reminding her again that they had to go, and they had to go now. Because Alex¡ª


    --don''t think about him right now. Don''t you dare. You think about him, and you''re going to break. And you cannot, absolutely CANNOT break down in front of Kaiser.


    If you do, he''ll kill you.


    It was strange, looking at someone and knowing he wanted to be your murderer. But she was pretty sure that Kaiser had already tried to get her killed. Twice. Once, at a dead old woman''s house, and once more at the Bronx zoo.


    He might have gotten her husband killed already.


    No. We aren''t thinking about that right now.


    She hadn''t thought about anything else for three days.


    Three. Days. That was how long it had taken for her to get to this moment. Sixteen hours to get from Arizona to Boston. Another day lost arguing with government officials and Kaiser Willheim, who hid behind the government goons with that Mephistophelian smile of his. He''d waited for Hawk to approach him and assume the supplicant''s position, which she''d fought kicking and screaming. And then, finally, something had broken in the government ranks, and they''d given the OK to allow a team of people to go down the most dangerous hole in the world. Three days, and her husband Alex was at the bottom of that hole somewhere, waiting for her to come to his rescue.


    But if she wanted to be truly honest with herself, this had started a week ago, when her husband''s client Elizabeth Cummings had contacted him about her poisoned garden. She''d been a dotty old lady on the edge of dementia, but she''d been sure something was killing her plants. Something had been. A group the government were calling terrorists (She wasn''t sure what you''d call Edgar and Naomi Studdard now, but she was pretty sure the terror their actions had evoked was a side-effect; still, ''terrorist'' would do, for now) had opened a hole in reality, testing the old woman and her pet basset hound to see if they could survive exposure to the energies of another dimension. They could not. Elizabeth Cummings, her dog, her garden, and the yards and wildlife for several blocks around her house had all been reduced to a strange, crystalline ash. It held the shape of whatever it had been¡ªa rose would still resemble a rose, for a few precious seconds. Then it would collapse from the slightest touch¡ªbut it killed, and killed swiftly.


    It was the result of Kaiser Willheim''s experiments with lasers. He was the primary funding behind the Ararat Project, a climate-change centered initiative whose stated goals had been to either preserve the world against its own destruction, or to make terraforming other planets a viable possibility (it was not, in Hawk''s opinion). By accident, they''d shredded reality, killed several of their own scientists and endangered not only Kaiser Willhiem''s business empire, but his partner Edgar Studdard as well.


    Kaiser had finally confessed the truth to her, after lying and blaming Studdard for the hellstorm that followed. Edgar Studdard had been broken by that accident. He''d just lost two billion dollars of his own money...and watched his daughter Amelie die in his arms. So, when the accident proved that the prism-like laser attachment was actually lethal on biblical proportions, he''d climbed into the large mock-up that was terrifyingly functional with a bottle of Jack Daniels...and turned the Prism on.


    He should have ripped a huge hole in reality, which he did, destroying acres of forest and the small cottage his dead daughter had loved. Had his wife been on the property, he would have killed her too. And he should have killed himself. But what no one knew was that the Prism would preserve the life of whatever it held...by changing it. It descended into the hole Studdard had made, with Studdard inside of it. And time ran faster inside the hole, exponentially. Eons passed (presumably) while Studdard was trapped in the crystal, alone, without food or water, kept alive by an unknowable force.


    Obviously, (or so Kaiser said) he went insane. He was also presumably immortal, and he seemed to have gained the power to alter reality in subtle ways, though it was hard to tell in the handful of horrified minutes before whatever it was he''d become vanished from human sight.


    Most people would have interpreted these events as a sign from the universe that the Prisms needed to be destroyed and forgotten about. But Kaiser and Naomi Studdard had both seen the potential. Unfortunately, Naomi had proved to be faster and more on the ball. She''d begun testing Prisms immediately, trying to figure out what it would take to repeat the process Edgar had undergone...without going mad. Naomi had presumed that the isolation, not the transformation, was what had stolen her husband''s mind, and had bent all her effort, money, and heartlessness to discovering how to preserve life outside a Prism, as well as inside of it. She wanted to go down into that alternative reality. To gain the power and the immortality she assumed Edgar now possessed. But she wanted to bring other people with her.


    And three days ago, that was exactly what she did.


    She wasn''t supposed to do it now, Kaiser had said, when she''d finally treed him in his own office and demanded he tell her the truth. She was supposed to wait, and she was supposed to be inside the Prism, and it was supposed to be somewhere with no collateral damage.


    So you planned this, Hawk had wanted to say in response. You allowed this to happen. You looked at the dead and dying from countless Events, each time knowing that it was Naomi Studdard with a Prism, and you let it happen because you knew it could win you immortality. But she didn''t say that. She had to say on Kaiser''s good side.


    He was the only way she was going to rescue Alex.


    He''d called her as the world caved in around him. Called her and begged her for help, just before the phone cut off completely, and the ground gave way to the Prism''s power. Kaiser had told her the Prism that had knocked out half of Boston, that was currently turning all organic matter in the rest of it to the ash they were calling Glass, had been the size of a greenhouse. Hawk imagined Alex, handcuffed to part of the floor, doing everything he could to try to stop it.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    But there was something else she didn''t understand.


    "Kaiser," She said. "Why won''t you tell me what you think Naomi gave Alex?" Alex had told her he''d been given some sort of injection, something that made it hard for him to think. Kaiser, on hearing that part of the story for the first time, had turned pale. And then he''d refused to say anything else on the subject.


    "It may not be important," Kaiser said.


    "Oh, fuck that in the ear," said one of the other members of their little hell bound expedition. Their name was Emile Yong, an Asian Enby scientist who viewed the normal rules of polite society as guidelines they could ignore with glee. For once, they weren''t wearing something inappropriate, but rather the same paramilitary fatigues that had been supplied to Hawk and Kaiser. But they''d taken care to dye their hair a riot of rainbow shades, just to make up for it. "We''re talking about her husband, dipshit."


    Kaiser gave them a look like he''d enjoy firing them by drop-kicking them into the sun. But they weren''t one of his employees. Nor was Hawk, or Alex. They were more-or-less innocent civilian scientists (plus one Private Investigator) who had been sucked into this mess when the Ararat Project showed up to police Elizabeth Cummings'' backyard...and who had survived multiple exposures to Glass energy through Hawk''s speciality.


    Honeypot ants.


    She wasn''t sure how, because they hadn''t had time to study it, but something¡ªlikely an enzyme in the ant''s gut¡ªprotected organic matter from the Glass energy. They''d discovered it because she and Alex had eaten some before breaking through Kaiser''s security at the old woman''s residence. And as she was one of the world experts on the subject, she became valuable to Kaiser.


    She''d been eating them fairly steadily ever since, just to make sure she could safely traverse a Glass zone. She''d only been to two different Events, but she''d survived both times. Her biggest concern, however, was the scarcity of honeypots, and their growing need for safe first responders. She had no idea how they were managing the Event in the Bronx, but the Glass Event in Boston had outstripped that within minutes. In New York, jokingly, Alex and Kaiser had talked about evacuating the whole state. Now it was looking like they''d have to, only it''d be Massachusetts and not New York State.


    A Glass Event happened when a Prism, made of four specially cut and finished slabs of crystal, was activated using light. Even ambient light could do it, though Kaiser assured her that as long as the individual parts were kept separate, even by something as thin and delicate as cloth (He claimed they used an oil-and-particulate mixture that kept the various parts cushioned from each other) the Prism was inert. The Prism, once activated, vibrated and drilled a hole, not through rock or soil as Kaiser had intended, but through reality itself. The first time he activated one, it sucked three researchers and a janitor down, as well as half the lab. Those bodies were never recovered, but eventually, the Prism was.


    There was a lot of quantum physics at play here that Hawk did not understand¡ªin the words of Bones, she was a bug scientist, not a quantum physicist¡ªbut she understood enough: The Prism, once activated, went "down" into something like a pocket universe. Then, depending on the intensity of the light that triggered it, the Prism came back "up" to our reality once more, sealing the Rift and making the world safe for human habitation again.


    In theory.


    Hawk knew that theory wasn''t good enough. While a Rift was open, it bled energy that turned all organic life into crystal ashes. Which meant it very effectively sterilized everything. To the average human, that didn''t sound so bad. Clean dirt. Clean air, virus and bacteria free. No ants in the soil. No cockroaches in the house (Though if your house were built with wooden beams and drywall, you''d also have no house). But to Hawk, that was catastrophic. Humans do not understand enough about the environment to rebuild it after a total loss. As a matter of fact, they don''t rebuild. They can''t. The best humanity could do was clean up the affected area (be it by oil, chemical, fire, or Glass) and then wait for the unaffected nature to sweep back over the destroyed parts, like a wound healing from the outside in. We had no clue how to go from nothing to something. Even creating indoor ecosystems required one to find creatures from an outside source¡ªspringtail cultures, cuttings from plants both wild and domestic, animals from other places, birds, fish, the microbiome of soil and water. If asked to create such a thing from scratch, the average human would be lost.


    The Glass Event in Mrs. Cummings back yard had seemed massive when it swallowed several blocks of her neighborhood, but Hawk now counted that Event as small, sane, and contained. The Bronx zoo Event had started out as a nightmare, instantly destroying hundreds of people, not to mention the majority of plants and animals within, but it had slowed, and mostly stopped after they killed...


    Well, that was the other part of the equation. It seemed that if an example of a lifeform were placed inside the Prism when it was activated, that lifeform could survive exposure to Glass. Which was not something recognized until a desperate, depressed Edgar Studdard attempted suicide by Prism, and failed to a horrifying degree. According to his wife, Naomi, Edgar had been monstrously changed by his time in the Prism...which was longer than one would think. While it had lasted only a day in the normal time-line, time had run slower inside the Rift. To the rest of the world, the horror of his suicide had been brief. To Edgar, it had taken centuries. He''d come out of the hole, alright, but had been nearly incoherent...and then had disappeared.


    And Alex went down this hole. It had lasted for three days, so far. Three days of untold horror. Each Event was defined by lines¡ªthe point where energy exposure began killing things. There were lines where each lifeform on this planet began to fail from exposure. Ironically, mammals and birds lasted the longest, but would be the first dead things found during a Glass Event...they were the only things capable of running away. Then the insect line, where the small biological robots we called bugs could no longer function, their insides hardening and fragmenting as their carapaces turned brittle. Then, finally, the Glass Line, the point where even dead organic matter went to ash. That, the Glass Line, was considered the boundary of the Event, and the Boston Event''s Glass Line was starting to threaten other counties now. The death toll was estimated to lie in the thousands, and there was no end in sight.


    And Alex was at the bottom of that rift, waiting for her rescue.


    To get there, she''d had to talk Kaiser into first talking to her and then letting her help, which she had done. Then both of them had to persuade the government to take the risk of sending people not just to the center of the Event, but through it. And that had taken most of yesterday, but they''d done it, founded entirely on Kaiser''s promise that they''d find a way to close the Rift and save lives. And now their team was being assembled. Hawk had pulled a few strings and Kaiser had pulled the rest, and they''d gotten Dr. Henry Dyson and Hawk''s friend, Dr. Emile Yung, added to the roster. And now there was nothing left but to pack their rucksacks and troop on down to their ride, as if they were going on the world''s worst camping trip.


    Hawk had her bag packed, and was putting on her shoes¡ªshe was starting to get used to wearing combat boots¡ªwhen Emile came over.


    "You doing okay?" Emile said. They''d made a special point to never, ever look particularly masculine or feminine. Hawk suspected the only reason they went around clean-shaven was because it added to the confusion. Their hair was streaked with hot pink, gold, neon green, sapphire blue and the most annoying shade of purple Hawk had ever seen. It hung in ringlets, which was very interesting considering that Emile was Chinese.


    "I''m doing. And thanks for doing this with me," Hawk said.


    "No problem. You''d do it for me or Henry." And oh, the way Emile''s voice softened when she said Henry Dyson''s name was more than enough to make Hawk smile. Even with her own life on fire, the fact that Em had found love¡ªor something that could become love¡ªin their own worst enemy gave Hawk''s poor heart a sense of peace. She stuffed the last of the MRE''s into the sack. "They really think we''ve got enough rope to get there, don''t they?" She had four coils, but she was pretty sure that wasn''t enough.


    "I''m sure they think so. Look. I just want to make sure you''re okay."


    "I''m okay," Hawk lied.


    "Because...because I just want to be sure, you know?" Em insisted.


    Because we both know Alex is already dead, Hawk thought, dismally, but no. Alex must still be alive. They knew of two complex organisms surviving time inside a Prism: Edgar Studdard and the gorilla Hawk mentally called The Ape. Both had lived, and the Ape had seemed to live well (until Kaiser''s people had shot it), so there was a chance that Alex was still alive. As what, Hawk didn''t know. But he might still be alive.


    She just had to hope and¡ª


    The doors to their ready-room suddenly banged open, and a soldier in desert fatigues came through. "Who is Willheim and West?" she barked. At least, Hawk was pretty sure this was a she.


    "I''m West," she said.


    Kaiser just strode forward. "What is it?"


    "You both need to go to the command tent, and bring the rest of your team, Yong and Dyson. There''s been a development. They''re moving the deployment up."


    Hawk grabbed her bag...but still had the presence of mind to ask, "Why?"


    The soldier looked at Hawk with pity, and no small amount of fear. "Because, something''s happened in the Rift.


    "It looks like its being blocked off from the inside."

 Two: Protocol

    The four of them (and don¡¯t think for a moment Hawk was comfortable with Kaiser standing in for Alex; her husband should have been a part of this milieu) were walked to the rooftop command center. Glass energy seemed to cling to the ground, completely bypassing skyscrapers and other, tall edifices. This information was being passed around through the news crews: if you¡¯re in a Glass Event and you can¡¯t outrun it, climb. They were already rescuing people from radio antennas and rooftops¡­and finding the remains of people who had not climbed high enough. Hawk had spent most of last night sleepless, watching the carnage as it spread across Massachusetts. Three days, and thousands dead, and many, many more displaced, and there was no sign of stopping.


    Why is it spreading so fast this time? She¡¯d wondered then, and she wondered the same now, as they approached the command tent. It was surrounded by people in incomprehensible uniforms, and by overwhelmed civilian authorities. Three firemen stood to one side in a circle with two cops, and tears were streaming down all their faces. Another firefighter stood inside the command tent, with Commissioner Thomkirk across the base of his uniform. They were talking about ways to stem the tide of Glass flooding across the surrounding counties¡­and from what Hawk overheard, they had no good ideas.


    The soldier who had brought them here stepped forward in a salute. The soldiers, fire chief and chief of police did not seem to notice. They were saying something about dropping buildings, which wouldn¡¯t work¡ª


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    She blinked, and realized the entire command tent was staring at her.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± said a man in military fatigues. He had stars on his shoulder, two of them. Maybe he was a General. She was struck by a wave of fatigue and embarrassment, and she realized she was so exhausted that she had said ¡°It wouldn¡¯t work¡± out loud.


    ¡°Who the blue hell are you, lady, and what are you doing at my command post?¡±


    She shuffled forward. ¡°I¡¯m Hawk West. I¡¯m going down that hole in a few minutes.¡± And she waited for the respect to filter into their eyes. Most of them didn¡¯t get it at all. The general¡¯s eyes softened just a bit. ¡°And dropping a building to contain the Glass won¡¯t work. It goes right through most substances. Ironically enough, the only thing we¡¯ve found that works is glass.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the scientist who¡¯s raising hell because your husband¡¯s in the hole, aren¡¯t you?¡± he sighed. ¡°You look soft. Softer than I¡¯d like.¡±


    And then an unexpected gesture of support oozed her way. ¡°I can assure you, General, the Wests are a lot of things.¡± Kaiser Willheim said, to the General. ¡°Soft is not one of them. And it¡¯ll be a lot easier letting Dr. West in from the beginning, than trying to peel her off your ass when she decides to become your new barnacle.¡±


    It was, she thought, the first time he¡¯d called her Doctor. Which was her title, and it should have made her feel better. It didn¡¯t. Manipulative kindness is still manipulative, and Kaiser had seemingly spent a great deal of time belittling her. Which she was playing along with. A Kaiser that assumed she wasn¡¯t strong enough to stand up to him would be a Kaiser unprepared when she finally did. But his disrespect rankled.


    The General turned his attention to the elderly man beside Hawk. ¡°Which makes you Kaiser Willheim. I¡¯m assuming candy-hair there is Yung, and the little guy is Dyson. There¡¯s a protocol to giving answers, but I¡¯ll cut you some slack.¡± He paused. ¡°When the hell was the last time you people got sleep?¡±


    She ignored it, mostly because he wouldn¡¯t like her answer. She hadn¡¯t really slept since Alex vanished¡­or even before that, if she were being honest. ¡°How soon can we get to the Rift? We need to get started ASAP.¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s a problem with that. Twenty minutes ago we were told that the entirety of the hole became blocked, a couple hundred feet down the hole. It happened suddenly, we got nothing on the seismographs or any of the other monitors, but the whole thing is blocked off.¡±


    She didn¡¯t like the sound of that.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®blocked off¡¯?¡± Kaiser asked.


    ¡°See for yourselves.¡± The general stepped back, gesturing towards a telescope. Hawk glanced from the military men, who stood stoic, guns at side, then to Kaiser, who looked bored. Oh, god, she wanted to hit him. To fling herself, feral, at his head until she¡¯d ripped his smug, stinking eyes from his skull. Bring him back, she wanted to yell. He¡¯s ten times the man you are, bring my Alex home! And instead, she turned to the General.


    ¡°Is that an invitation?¡± She said, drily.


    ¡°Yes, Dr. West. It is.¡± He said.


    She moved, knowing as she did that she was on a kind of stage. She was here on Kaiser¡¯s suffrage, and because she knew how to keep Honeypots alive and, thus, could keep the soldiers alive. She would be viewed as an extension of him, and unless she wanted to lose her shot at saving her husband, she had to make sure that extension was unblemished.


    At least until she chose to fucking blemish the fuck out of it. She was going to burn the fucker. Oh, yes, she was. She was going to make sure that Kaiser Willheim couldn¡¯t buy a fucking hotdog when this was all over and done with, not even from prison commissary. But that wasn¡¯t going to get Alex out of the hole.


    Those were her two questions, her guidance, her compass and sextant: What would Alex do? And will this get Alex home any faster? And right now she needed to be inside that hole. So she was quiet and pleasant, the most cooperative little bug scientist this big, important man had ever seen. She didn¡¯t have teeth, oh no. She reached the telescope and looked down.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The hole that devoured the Bittermoss School should have been pitch black, like a staring crater, rimmed round with aural spikes of Glass energy threatening to rip all organics from anything nearby. They were on top of the tallest nearby building, a twenty-story bank, and only the top three floors were safe. And even that was questionable. Aural spikes had lit the whole area up, they arched across every surface with a strange, neon hissing sound, and left a devastation of Glass in their wake. But the hellmouth Hawk had every intention of walking into seemed to have developed a crystal plug where the gaping unknown ought to be.


    It was huge, the size of the building that wasn¡¯t there anymore, and the small showers of dirt trailing down from the violated school lawn now pooled in the crevasses between crystal spires. It was rather like the inside of a geode, if that geode were the size of an entire school campus.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± she whispered. ¡°Is there any way through?¡±


    ¡°Not that we can see. We¡¯re bringing in a drill and the Army Corps of Engineers, so we¡¯ll get through. It¡¯s just going to take time, and now we have no way of knowing what¡¯s happening to the kids down there.¡±


    Hawk¡¯s stomach plummeted. ¡°The kids?¡±


    ¡°The students of Bittermoss School. They¡¯re down there, same as your husband. I got families with the kind of fuck-you money that buys Ferraris breathing down my neck, and while I don¡¯t give a solitary shit about some jumped up PI who was in the wrong place, I got six-hundred and thirty seven children, plus their teachers, plus the support staff, down there in the dark, and by god I am getting every single one of them out.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know, she thought. He didn¡¯t know that time was moving faster inside of the Event Horizon. She hoped and prayed that it was just a few days faster, that each minute up here was something like three minutes, or thirty, or even a day a minute. That might have left something to survive. But she suspected that time was moving in the order of years in a minute, maybe¡ªoh horror!¡ªcenturies an hour.


    Kaiser had told her, at last, why Bittermoss School even existed. They¡¯d been the intended breeding stock for Ararat Project, the seed for a new humanity that Kaiser had intended to build in outer space (or, more probably, out of the wreckage of some collapsed country when climate change got too severe) and finally, when they discovered the Prisms and the Rift-worlds they created, Naomi Studdard had insisted that her school was to be the start of a human empire, grown entirely within the closed pocket universe inside a Rift.


    They would have survived if they were fed Honeypots first. And then they would have grown up, lived, reproduced, and died, all down in the dark in the hole, probably within the first few hours of real time.


    But there was hope for Alex. The things that survived in the hole, in the darkness of the Rifts, were things that had a representative in the Prism, something like a Jungian Archetype. She¡¯d seen it with monkeys, ants and honeysuckle, and she suspected it was happening on a larger scale here; the Prism had been functioning as Bittermoss School¡¯s greenhouse. It reportedly also held the children¡¯s smaller 4H projects. Lots of plants. Lots of animals. Lots of breeding stock for the madwoman who wanted to create her own universe.


    She stepped away. ¡°Do you think they know we¡¯re coming?¡± She said, to Kaiser.


    ¡°They?¡± the General said.


    ¡°Naomi Studdard may be behind this blockage. She would expect a response.¡± Kaiser said. The rage in his voice was tectonic. The rumbles were things the Studdards would pay for, alright. ¡°How long will the drill take to get here?¡±


    ¡°Got here five minutes before you lot did. We¡¯ll be carting it into place, and we¡¯ll have it up and running in the next few hours.¡±


    Hawk was looking at the hole with its geode plug. ¡°It¡¯ll happen a lot faster than that. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    There was a pregnant pause after her words, and the General leaned forward. ¡°You care to explain that sentence, little girl?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± She said. ¡°Sorry, General, but it¡¯ll be easier for you to understand when it happens. But do not let your people stay down there very long, at all. Tell them no more than an hour at a time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be thirty minute shifts.¡± The General said. ¡°You want to tell me what you think I¡¯ll be sending my boys into.¡±


    ¡°Nothing that will kill them. I¡¯m going down in there too, General. As soon as you give me permission. But I want to warn you. I have a lot of hope for my husband. I don¡¯t have that same hope for those children. And when you start letting people in the hole, you¡¯ll see why.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like sending my people in blind.¡± He said.


    She measured the man, trying to hold him to Alex¡¯s rules about people. But she couldn¡¯t see through this man the way Alex could. She just saw a competent, steady man who was trying to save children, who deserved the answer he was begging for¡­and who would never believe it. She said, ¡°And I don¡¯t like sending you in blind. But I¡¯ve spent¡ªwasted¡ªthree days trying to convince you people that you haven¡¯t even started to understand this thing.¡± She paused. ¡°Are you actually going to listen to me?¡±


    The General watched her for a few moments. Then he said, ¡°As long as I¡¯m sure that man over there doesn¡¯t have his hand up your ass, sure. I¡¯ll listen. Believe? That¡¯ll be another thing entirely.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°We think that there¡¯s a time dilation effect in the hole. Emile Yung calls it ¡®Narnia.¡¯¡± And she cringed inwardly at the General¡¯s reaction. ¡°It¡¯s not a great comparison, but it fits the behavior we saw in the Bronx Event. Time will be working faster inside the hole than outside of it. The good news is that means, to us, it won¡¯t take long to get through this barrier.¡±


    ¡°And the bad news?¡± The General said.


    ¡°We may not be able to rescue any of these children in their lifetime. I believe that we are seeing time the length of the average human lifespan go by in minutes.¡±


    He stared at her. ¡°So, lady, let me get this straight. You think that all those kids and your husband have aged and died in the time it took for us to realize we even had a problem? And you¡¯re still going in there?¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± She said.


    ¡°In my defense, I¡¯ve tried to talk her out of it,¡± Willheim said. His tone said even more. It said poor little woman, and aren¡¯t we great for babying her, and even I¡¯m Kaiser Willheim, King of the World.


    The General glared down at her. She smiled up at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re either nuts, or you¡¯ve got guts and are nuts, and I¡¯m not entirely convinced I need to allow a civilian group into the Event Horizon, as you people are calling it. But you seem to understand this more than I do, so I¡¯ll tell you what. If we manage to break through the Crystal before this time tomorrow, you¡¯ll get to run point. First ones in, first ones down. Sound like a deal?¡±


    The venom hidden in this promise could have melted steel. ¡°You gonna keep those promises, General?¡± She said.


    ¡°You calling my word into question?¡± This was said very, very quietly. The air changed. Every military person in this tent stiffened.


    ¡°You questioned mine,¡± She said. ¡°And then you made a joke out of it. It¡¯s only fair.¡± She paused. Far, far down below a crane was starting to move the first of several large crates. They were indeed about to send someone into the deep, white hole from hell. ¡°Tell you what, general. You make it through there before dinner time, I¡¯ll tell you whatever you want to know.¡±


    And she walked away before any of them could respond.

 Chapter Three: Mulligan

    She was left unmolested, so she went to the mess hall. It was set up on the floor just beneath the roof. Undoubtedly Kaiser was going to make the General¡ªhis last name seemed to be Mulligan¡ªforget every word Hawk had said, save for the ones he wanted the general to remember. She personally felt she¡¯d dispatched herself well. She hadn¡¯t vomited too much of the unbelievable truth out, she hadn¡¯t broken down in tears, and she hadn¡¯t given Kaiser an inch. But she was at one singular disadvantage here: She was a woman, and these were two men from the wonderful world of paid misogyny. Kaiser would have the General remembering a hysterical, overeducated little girl in very short order.


    She had to give her name twice, and they had to phone security, but she was given a meal of frito pie, one apple, and one container of water. She said thanks, was ignored, and went off to find someplace to eat and get comfortable. She waited another half minute, but no one from upstairs followed her. Neither Em nor Dyson. Well, her two friends were probably going to work on getting their affairs in order. You know. Just in case.


    She¡¯d been munching for a few minutes when two MPs walked over to her table. She groaned, inwardly, but said, ¡°Yes?¡± as civilly as possible.


    ¡°General Mulligan would prefer it if you stayed within eyesight.¡± They said, and rocked back onto their heals.


    ¡°Is he scared I¡¯m going to steal the chili?¡± She said. But they stared straight ahead and didn¡¯t give her an inch. Oh, she hadn¡¯t missed Alex nearly so much as she did right now, when he would have fucked with them until they all wound up as very good friends. The best she could manage was to continue eating.


    The guard nearest her, the female one with Duchamps on her lapel, said, ¡°Now.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Let me rephrase this for you people. Doctor West, would you please follow us back to the roof.¡± She motioned towards those doors with every word. ¡°That is how you ask politely.¡±


    ¡°This is a military operation, ma¡¯am. You¡¯re expected to follow orders.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m expected to follow orders. Except I¡¯m pretty sure those orders are going to be to sit down and stay out of your way while you go barreling forward in ways that will waste time that we do not have.¡±


    ¡°This is a search and rescue¡ª¡±


    ¡°No. It isn¡¯t. Not anymore. You just haven¡¯t had enough time to figure that out yet.¡± But her stomach had soured over with the chili. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m not hungry anymore.¡± And she got up, half throwing herself in front of the MPs. They lead her to the elevator without touching. Finally, the doors were closed. The elevator began to move.


    A hand reached out and hit the red stop button. The elevator shuddered into obedient stillness. The female MP, Duchamps, grabbed her shoulder and flung her into the wall of the elevator, hard.


    ¡°First off, West, I do not appreciate being treated like the enemy before I¡¯ve had a chance to earn it. Second, I understand your hostility. I have a cousin in Bittermoss School.¡±


    Hawk¡¯s gut plummeted down to her feet. ¡°Oh, God¡ªLook, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I lied.¡± Duchamps said. ¡°But the General ordered me to see if you really believed that the children at Bittermoss were dead. Based on the way you just nearly vomited on my shoes, you do. But you think your husband is alive?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. And I have no provable way to explain it. But yes. I do believe that the children down in that hole are dead.¡± She paused. ¡°But we¡¯ll be finding their descendants, if we find a way in.¡±


    The two MPs glanced at each other. The female, Duchamps, said, ¡°You¡¯ve probably got another minute before they¡¯ll notice we locked down the elevator.¡±


    ¡°Alex would have been inside the Prism. Maybe with other people, maybe alone. I don¡¯t know. The things inside the Prisms get¡­changed. We don¡¯t know exactly why, but it seems to shield other, similar lifeforms from the effects of Glass energy. We¡¯re calling them Archetypes. I think that¡¯s what Alex has become. Archetypes are much longer-lived than normal lifeforms¡ªwe think.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°You think.¡± The MP said.


    ¡°Yeah. Listen, I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re doing this because the General does not trust Kaiser¡ª¡±


    ¡°Like a hole in the head, he trusts him,¡± The male MP said.


    ¡°¡ªand that¡¯s great. And I know that nothing says Alex is alive or that he¡¯ll be sane or even human when I find him. But I have to try, okay?¡± she said, and looked hopefully at the MP.


    ¡°We¡¯ll report all this to the general.¡± The male MP said.


    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s good, I guess.¡± She said.


    ¡°And one of us would like to hit you.¡± Duchamps said.


    ¡°She wants to hit you. When someone talks violence, it¡¯s always her.¡± The other guy said.


    ¡°You want to hit me?¡± She said.


    ¡°It¡¯ll sell the idea that you¡¯ve been roughed up by us. Keep Kaiser from thinking we¡¯re asking you questions.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Hawk said. Then, ¡°Let¡¯s go without the hitting.¡± She said.


    And then braced herself as the elevator began to move.


    They didn¡¯t exactly hit her, just roughed her up a little bit, the sort of thing you¡¯d see if you resisted the General¡¯s kind offer. She was good natured about it. They¡¯d just told her, after all, that they did not trust Kaiser either, and they¡ªor the General through them¡ªwere testing her to see if she¡¯d be useful. Could they use her against Kaiser? She hoped she¡¯d shown them she was game.


    Back on the roof, Em gave her a concerned look when they got a good look at her now mussed up uniform. She gave them a quick gesture in response, the non-verbal I¡¯m fine. Em didn¡¯t look comforted, but they kept their tone level when they said, ¡°How¡¯s the food?¡±


    ¡°Better than anything we¡¯re going to get in the hole,¡± Hawk said. There¡¯d been nicknames for the place circulating through the camp all day, enough that even she heard a few of them. One person was calling the hole ¡°Holia¡± and the missing children ¡°Holians¡±, which would have sounded better if it weren¡¯t a direct mockery of her theories. ¡°When are we going, General?¡± She said.


    General Mulligan sighed, and was silent for a long time, looking out at the ruins of Boston. Only the astral spikes of the Event Horizon moved down there. The rest was silent. Finally, he began to speak. ¡°It seems you¡¯re right about a few things, West. One of my people was supposed to report to me at 1600 hours. They¡¯re reporting back minutes after they left, but they say it¡¯s sixteen hundred. Their watch says it¡¯s sixteen hundred. And they have over four hours of camera footage they did not have when they went in.¡± And he looked at her expectantly.


    Hawk took a moment to do the math. ¡°It¡¯s noon. So eight hours passed in¡­what?¡± she said. And now her heart was pounding hard, because this would tell her the odds on even finding Alex down there. Sixteen hundred was four PM. ¡°Four hours equals¡­what, five minutes?¡±


    ¡°Faster than that. It was near instantaneous, according to his CO. If it weren¡¯t for his watch, he¡¯d be in a heap of trouble.¡± A pause, as the wind blew harsh across their faces. Mulligan kept looking at the hole. ¡°How the hell am I supposed to tell six hundred parents that their kids are gone? That this shit is a total loss?¡±


    Kaiser stepped forward. ¡°Sir, I understand your emotions. Mrs¡­Doctor West¡¯s theory about time in the Rifts is compelling and there¡¯s a lot of evidence to support it. It¡¯s not something that needs to be known beyond this¡­rooftop.¡± He said, and shrugged.


    But the General had already tired of Kaiser, because he ignored the man eloquently. He turned, full body, to Hawk. ¡°I need you to explain, Mrs. West, why you think your husband is still alive?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that,¡± she said, honestly. ¡°I just hope that what we saw in the Bronx repeats itself here, and¡­I don¡¯t know. Maybe he¡¯ll just be immune.¡± She took a deep breath.


    ¡°So let me ask you another question, Doc. Let¡¯s say that I buy the multi-dimensional whatsis theory that you and the other eggheads are parroting in my direction. I buy that down there, inside that hole is a pocket universe where time is moving faster there than it is here, and that there could be multiple generations of people in there. Do we think they¡¯re going to be peaceful?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She said.


    He nodded. ¡°Alright. Then I will make a deal with you, Mrs. West. I will let you go down to that hole right now. I will even let you sit in there to your heart¡¯s content, staring at the pretty crystal walls until judgement day or we break through, whichever comes first. But I will do this on one condition, alright? You will listen to me, and you will listen to my people. They say jump, you say how high. They say go, you go. Stay, your ass is glued to the ground until they say otherwise. Same goes for Kaiser, and the rest of your people.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. Can I bring my things already?¡± she said.


    ¡°Why bother? In the pocket, out of the pocket, we¡¯re going to be staring at that hole and that goddamn drill for a while.¡± He said.


    ¡°Because if I¡¯m in the hole, I don¡¯t have to think about how much time Alex is losing,¡± Hawk said, and tried to pretend like she didn¡¯t see the empathy and shared pain in Emile¡¯s worried eyes.

 Four: Geode words

    ¡°Seriously. If you need to talk.¡± Em said.


    Hawk, Em and Henry Dyson had been cleared to exit the building and arrive at the Event site. That was how it was phrased. ¡°Arrive¡±. Such a simple understatement. Like getting there wasn¡¯t a horror story all by itself.


    Bittermoss School had been near one of the more affluent parts of Boston, not quite in the neighborhood, but near enough to it to be a convenient drive. It was a large school for a private facility, aimed at recruiting the best and brightest minds to accelerate our future¡ªor so the advertising copy said. In reality, Hawk knew it had been an experiment in modern eugenics cooked up between the Studdards¡ªboth Edgar and Naomi¡ªand Kaiser, back when his ambitions were to save the world from climate change. It¡¯d been important to them to keep up that respectable front, however, so not one hint of the school¡¯s true purpose was known. Unfortunately, that meant it had been sitting next to one of the busier freeways when the Prism was activated.


    The initial round of cars had driven off the freeways, into yards and parking lot medians, and most horrifying of all, down into the Rift. From a news report, the Glass energy was survivable for humans¡ªher gut twinged. Alex!¡ªbut it didn¡¯t matter when you were driving your vehicle into a cloud of white light, or when an old-growth tree dropped its shattered self directly in your path.


    Still, Hawk thought the presence of a person¡ªAlex¡ªin the Prism was shielding the National Guard and Army first responders, who were gathered around the hole like ants. She could not see anyone inside the Rift. She suspected they were moving too fast for her to recognize. Yes, because as she watched, a soldier climbed out of the hole, out of the Event Horizon. They just appeared like some strange, celestial being, a god of fatigues and khaki and bad tempers. They also looked shellshocked, as if stunned by something the rest of the army hadn¡¯t seen.


    Hawk figured this poor kid would know where to take the rest of them. She walked her way over, picking through a ground that was mostly ground in ash and dirt. She tried not to imagine what her boots were grinding into the sterilized soil. She was just glad that, from all evidence collected so far, it was absolutely a what and not a who this time. No people were dying in this cacophonous hell. The nightmare loss of life hadn¡¯t been so bad.


    Six hundred children and teachers in the hole. Alex, also in the hole. It¡¯s bad. She thought, and reached the dazed looking soldier just as he registered her presence. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m Doctor Haven West, this is Doctors Yung and Dyson. We were told we could enter the hole here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­I¡¯m not¡ª¡± the captain shook himself.


    ¡°We¡¯re aware of the time dilation effect. In fact, we¡¯ve warned your general about it. How long have you been inside the Rift?¡± Please say a couple days, please say a couple days¡ª


    ¡°A week. And apparently it wasn¡¯t even twenty minutes. This is¡ª¡± he paused. Looked at her. Registered the name. West. ¡°Aren¡¯t you family of¡ª¡±


    If she heard Alex¡¯s name spoken, she¡¯d break. ¡°Immaterial. We¡¯re here to help. We¡¯ve also been present at two other Events, including the Bronx Event. We know what we¡¯re doing. This the way down?¡±


    He nodded. And so she walked forward, down towards the ring of aural spikes.


    I¡¯m on my way, Alex. She thought, as she reached for the guide-rope that would take her down. All you need to do is hang on.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ***


    The Rift was, indeed, plugged off by a bulk of crystal. Hawk was pretty sure that it was the real, true, honest stone. It certainly wasn¡¯t frail ash. She stepped down off the rope ladder the military had set up, onto plastic sheeting that protected her feet from the crystal points. There was a hollow, here, the full size of the rift, and it was covered in glittering quartz points, all of it a strange and comforting cream. ¡°Sharp?¡± She asked the captain, who was following her down.


    ¡°Like a son of a bitch. Captain Matthew Specter.¡± He offered a hand as both a steady and an introduction.


    ¡°Doctor Hawk West, entomologist. I¡¯m the one who knows how the ants work. Behind you somewhere are Doctors Emile Yong and Henry Dyson.¡±


    ¡°Dyson I remember. He¡¯s going to be our liaison with Ararat Project. Emile, she¡ª¡±


    ¡°They,¡± Hawk corrected.


    ¡°They?¡± This got a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Emile Yung was a first responder at the Bronx zoo. They¡¯re running on about as much sleep as I¡¯ve gotten in the last few days, and they¡¯re one of the few people I¡¯d trust right now. So Yes. They. Is that a problem?¡±


    ¡°No, ma¡¯am. I got a non-binary cousin. How much sleep are you running on?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Look around you. Six hundred missing kids, full faculty staff MIA, and people driving into the rift every few minutes. Would you sleep?¡±


    ¡°Right now? Yes, ma¡¯am. Or else get out of the pocket completely. If I¡¯m groking this right¡ª¡± And suddenly Hawk was upgrading her expectations with this kid, ¡°¡ªtime¡¯s running faster in here than out there, a week down here is a couple hours¡ª¡±


    ¡°Less than, it looks like.¡± Hawk said.


    A nod. ¡°¡ªso if you¡¯re going to get some sleep, it won¡¯t matter if you sleep down here. You won¡¯t lose any time. And I¡¯m going to warn you, it¡¯s been hard going through this crystal shit. Every day at about noon, it gets some kind of pulse and we get a lot of regrowth.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Hawk said. Regrowing Crystal? Well, for now, it might as well be magic; this place had told physics to fuck off a while ago.


    ¡°Any idea why?¡± The Captain asked.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ll be honest with you, Captain. We are just as lost as you are.¡±


    ¡°Kaiser Willheim, ma¡¯am, seems to think you lot have it all together.¡± The Captain said, guardedly. He¡¯d leaned back to the edge of the plastic, probably would have leaned on an outcropping of crystal, had the one behind him been just a little bit taller, and less sharp on its uppermost end.


    She looked at him, measuring tone and stance and a thousand small other things that, she hoped, added up to trustworthy. ¡°Kaiser Wilheim, sir, is mostly worried about his stock price, and how many patents he can get out of this disaster.¡±


    Captain Spectre seemed to relax like a spring uncoiling. ¡°He struck me pretty much the same way.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, Captain. A lot of people owe him loyalty. Dyson, for example, is an employee of Ararat Project first, and a member of this expedition second. Kaiser has expectations of him that he won¡¯t of the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°And Yung?¡± Spectre asked.


    Hawk measured her words, trying to plumb out the best warning she could manage. ¡°You ever been face first over a Roman Candle?¡± She said.


    ¡°Oh.¡± A grin. ¡°One of those.¡±


    ¡°Just call them ¡®them¡¯ and let the small stuff go. They¡¯re pretty good about getting the difference between a hard boundary and something they can fuck with, but they¡¯re also civilian and deserve a little slack.¡±


    ¡°Way I see it, ma¡¯am, you good people could be at home, safe in your bed, and you¡¯re here to carry some of the load. Just don¡¯t make our job harder, and we¡¯ll get along great.¡± A pause. ¡°Ma¡¯am, I gotta ask you¡­those kids. We¡¯re not getting them back, are we?¡±


    No. You¡¯re not. She considered what to tell him, and decided the truth, but one tempered with a little bit more hope than she felt. ¡°The odds are pretty good that we won¡¯t. But we might find their kids. I think they had a real good chance of surviving that long¡­and they had my Alex with them. If anybody could get somebody over the hump, it¡¯s him. I don¡¯t have a whole lot of hope of finding him,¡± and saying that out loud for the first time hurt like a thousand needles through her spine, ¡°but I can find whatever he left behind, and I can make him proud of me.¡± And she took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m going to find someplace quiet to collapse until we¡¯ve got an opening confirmed.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. Up there, it¡¯s all hurry up. Down here, nothing to do but wait.¡± Noises above told them both the next round of people were on their way down. She could hear Em¡¯s loud criticism of the rope ladder. ¡°Looks like I get to meet your firecracker, now.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re good people.¡± She said, and walked away.