Caleb took a step closer, tentative, fearful, as if the sound would awaken the woman to his presence, and if that happened, nothing would or could ever be the same. All the intervening years would melt away and he would merge into this other world, this other self and other reality, and he would be happy, none the wiser but full of so many riches.
All efforts to the contrary, his fears and hopes were realized as she lifted her head, frowning slightly, and turning into the glorious glare of the filtered sunlight. Those haunting eyes of deepest jade, those lips so often smiling at the slightest provocation, the smallest joy. Like the boy skipping now down the aisle, a pack of books over his shoulder, so innocent and brave and so unscarred by the loss of his mother and the weight of so much guilt about this very building, over the deaths of so many, and the strength of responsibility.
All this Caleb saw, knew and wanted so desperately.
Even as Lydia raised her head, saw him and smiled.
One more second, one more instant in this place, this time, if he just met her look and went to her, and Caleb knew it would be over. There would be no going back. Was the door even still there, at his back?
Her eyes beckoned, her lips parted in a smile. Was she about to call out to him? Did her enthusiasm signal some great find in the book’s pages, in this massive and countless treasure trove of ancient and modern wisdom shored up by the Keepers and preserved for a new age? Or did she just miss him, way out here in Alexandria while he worked with the Morpheus Initiative back in the States? Was that a smile of longing about to be fulfilled, a smile of anticipation at a desperately needed kiss, a desire to quench not just physical passions, but a lust for knowledge of what wisdom they had learned, what secrets could have be unearthed? They were poised to do such great things, and although their methods differed, their goals were the same — the advancement of civilization and humanity’s potential.
It all came back to him, and he knew that with his next step everything else would be like a quickly-forgotten dream, and this life, this world, this second chance, would be his everything. All those other people behind the door at his back, dealing with government conspiracies and cosmic threats, they would be just figments of illusionary and distant characters in his mind, quickly relegated to the realm of uncertain reality.
One more step, back to Lydia, to young Alexander, to this life before the lighthouse fire, before Calderon and the destruction of this wondrous library, before all the pain and guilt.
It could all be yours again, said a voice in his head. To do it right this time.
A hand on his shoulder, pulling him back, stopping that last step.
He turned, and the man (who the hell was this?) with the hooded sweatshirt and those jet black eyes gripped him tighter and yanked him through a door that should not have existed, a door that slammed shut fast, so fast, and the last thing Caleb could see through it was his wife, standing in surprise and her eyes turning to confusion.
“That’s your carrot,” Boris said. “That is my gift to you, but only after I get mine first.”
Caleb shook away from that grip and reached for the door that was no longer there, replaced by a snarling nest of electrical webbing. It scattered at his touch, leaving only wispy tendrils of sulfur-scented air behind. The great bell-shaped object trembled and a whirring sound replaced the cacophony of clicking and grinding that had followed his return to Montauk.
“You found that place,” Caleb whispered, struggling to stop the tears welling in his eyes. Lydia… so close, so…right. She was there, everything was there. He could remove the traps he had laid out to hide the Tablet from her, share with her and trust her this time… It could be different. Everything could be different.
“Through luck and extreme effort,” Boris said grimly. He pulled back his hood and stepped back toward the controls. In the far corner of the room, a few technicians were poring over data and analyzing a giant board full of equations. They were apparently clouded from seeing Caleb and Boris, which was just fine.
“We’ve found dozens, hundreds of alternate realities that are possibilities. Some have already served as escape avenues for war criminals and for others who couldn’t bear the thought of what’s to come in this world. And still so many others were dead ends, or they presented worse scenarios.” He sighed. “But this one, yes, I calibrated the space and time anchors to what I knew would pique your interest the most. Pull on the old heartstrings and offer you a chance at redemption.”
Caleb glanced wistfully toward the empty space where the portal had been. “But…was I there? What about the me in that time and space?” He had so many questions, so many dizzying conjectures.
Boris raised a finger in an a-ha kind of gesture. “Yes, the key question! And since we don’t have the days and weeks it would take to fully answer it, just know that we discovered that as Tesla and others theorized, the universe — any universe — vibrates at its own unique frequency. Everything in it — including us — has a signature as unique as a fingerprint, on a cosmic scale. Now think of the concept of parallel universes — which all, by nature, have to occupy the same space, but just in a different dimension, each with their own atoms vibrating at unique frequencies…” He held his head, massaging his temples as if the thoughts were giving him pain. “You see where I’m going with this?”
Caleb thought for a moment. “Let me see…The Law of Conservation and Energy would say matter can neither be created nor destroyed, and reality has to be balanced.”
“Right. So when you stepped into that other universe…”
“There would suddenly be an excess of mass. Something had to give — or be destroyed to keep the balance.”
“Exactly, which gave those early Nazi scientist bastards all kinds of trouble. They could find the other dimensions, but couldn’t enter — something kept bouncing them back — or annihilating the hapless volunteers who tried, or at least scrambling their brains up something fierce. Those who are psychic have a much better chance of surviving, which is why for now all volunteers have to fit that bill…or be changed to fit it.”
“What?”
“Never mind that for now. Just know that they’ve had all kinds of problems with anyone entering another universe…”
“Until,” Caleb thought, “they hit on the notion of the vibrational signature.”
“The right frequency, yes. The bell there — not only fractures our reality and creates the doorway of our choosing, but it envelopes those in proximity with a field that subtly changes the vibrational speed of their atoms…”
“To be in sync with those of the target universe?” Caleb’s eyes widened. “So, nothing new is added to that universe? We snap into place, vibrating at the same speed, with the same signature, in essence — becoming the other one of us, merging with him?”
“That’s right. Atoms of World A Caleb vibrating at the same rate as World B’s Caleb, and when you stepped through…only one of you could then exist.”
“What about our — my — memories? Thoughts, experiences, would they…?”
Boris shrugged. “To some extent, they’re both there. You gain his, he gains yours, but as I’m sure you noticed, the dominant world took a greater hold, even in that short time you were there.”
“Yes. I felt…this world fading, like it was a dream.”