Author: Nate

Fri, August 28
Lassander, Kingdom of Obdrest
The King’s private study

Phillip was in his study again; this time, he was not alone.

“Your majesty, I’ve heard some rather unbelievable rumors,” said Sophie; she was the Duchess of Lassander, and his brother Carl’s widow.

“Don’t ‘your majesty’ me, Sophie,” he said. “We’ve known each other more than 50 years now. Just ask what you’re going to.”

“You never were one for pleasantries,” she replied, “but you’ve gotten positively grouchy these past few years.”

“Justifiably,” he said.

“We all must move on,” she replied, “and I wanted to ask if the reason some of your senior security people had been at the Gate had to do with Princess Christina’s disappearance.”

“Why pay attention to such rumors now, Sophie?” he said.  “Ever since she disappeared, there have been rumors that the Gatekeepers let her through.”

“I’ve heard the same rumors, but until they came up again recently, I never believed them.”

“You should have,” said Phillip. “There aren’t many ways you can make someone disappear so completely that there’s no trace of a body, nor a ghost.”

“So, she did?  The Brotherhood confirmed it?”

“I’ve been pretty certain of it since the magicians my brother hired couldn’t find anything.”

“So does that mean she’s been found?” asked Sophie.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Phillip, shaking his head. “She died young, on the other side of the gate.”

“Oh, how horrible. Will the brotherhood let you bring her remains home?”

“She had a husband there; I don’t intend to have our people ask.”

“There’s a child, then,” said Sophie.

Phillip didn’t answer right away. “Whatever you think you know, keep to yourself.  I’ll let you know the rest when the time is right, but if you breathe a word of this to your nephew all bets are off.”

“I have never understood why you dislike him so much,” said Sophie.

“Distrust, not dislike. If I haven’t gotten that through to you yet, I never will.”

“Very well, then.  I’ll keep this to myself, but if I’ve come this close to figuring it out on my own, others will eventually.”

Sun, August 2
Queens, New York City

I slept very badly the night after Anne’s memorial. I woke up drenched in sweat even with the air conditioner having been on all night, with the sense that I’d had running nightmares but no memory of what they were about.  I had over a month until school started, but I was already dreading going back with no one who I knew well left there.

Before, I’d dismissed Mr. Hull’s idea of my attending school with Joel as a bad idea out of hand, but it didn’t seem that way now.  Anne was gone, and just about everything at school and around the neighborhood seemed likely to remind me of her, and of the odd questions her mom had raised.  A year at school away from home meant a year away from my brother, and his incessant fights with our folks.  I still had Hull’s business card in my desk drawer; it was early on a Sunday morning, so I doubted I’d reach him directly, and for all I knew he’d be on the other side of the gate.  It might be too late to get in, I thought; I hadn’t gotten to talk to Joel much at the memorial, but it had sounded like he was done with the exam.

I figured I’d leave a message, anyway, and did so.  Not wanting to stay at home later in the morning, I gave Joel a call to see if he was around and wanted to get lunch.  We met up, as we often did, at the BK near his house.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I paused for a minute.  “I thought I was doing OK, but Anne’s mom said something weird after the memorial, and I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Shoot, like weird how?”

“Kind of like, she thought Anne and I should have been dating,” I said, “but she didn’t like me that way. I don’t think?”

“The heck if I know,” said Joel, and then he thought for a second, and then kind of grimaced. “It could actually kind of make sense, looking back.”

“How do you mean?”

“You probably never noticed how annoyed Anne was when she found out you had asked Reina out at the end of 8th grade.”

“I remember we weren’t hanging out much that summer, but that was it.”

“More recently, she was bugging you about bicycling more, and getting into shape.”

I shrugged.

“She was at least too protective of you for just a friend.  I thought you were right that it was kind of a big-sister thing, but I dunno, liking you could fit.”

I took a long drink of my soda before saying anything else.  “Ah, crud.  It never crossed my mind, and I guess I’ll never know now.”

“It’s kind a pity she wasn’t your type,” Joel said. “Maybe she was hoping you’d grow out of it.”

“What do you mean my type?”

“I remember you talking about crushes on three different girls. You asked two of them out, right?”

“Yeah, so?” I said.

“What did they all have in common?” When I didn’t answer, he went on, “You know, huge tracts of land.”

I groaned.  “Hey, Reina was just really nice to me in 8th grade and I kind of thought she might have liked me when we had to work together in that stupid theater project in English class.”

“And what about Holly?” Joel asked.

“She was the only girl who came for a while when we tried to get the D&D club together.”

“Don’t lump me into starting that.  I went to a few meetings before you gave up.  Also, she wasn’t the only girl, remember?”

“Oh yeah, duh,” I said. “Anne came to a few meetings.”

“I think all of them, even if she was just hanging out and studying,” said Joel.  “So fine, you had something in common with two of them, what about Lana?”

“OK, fine, she’s never said two words to me, but she’s hot.”

“Way too tall for you, and out of either of our leagues. Here, at least. So, what do they have in common?”

I glared at him. “They’re all smart.”

“Everyone is smart at our school, test to get in and all that,” said Joel. “Anne’s at least as smart as any of those three.”

“Was,” I said, looking down.

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Yeah, was,” Joel sighed. After a pause, he continued, “and maybe I’m wrong, but if I got the idea that you are a boobs guy, I’ll bet she did too.”

He wasn’t wrong about my general preferences, but I didn’t think I would have been so superficial about it if a girl had ever shown any interest in me as more than a friend.  Still, the thought that her mom might have been right, and Anne might have kept something like that to herself because of something that dumb depressed me further.

Joel broke what was becoming an awkward silence.  “Sorry, Mark. I know this is all heavy, especially given how things went the last time you thought someone liked you.”

He was referring to Holly; when I asked Reina out, she was really nice about saying no thanks. Holly hadn’t been.

Joel went on. “Anne was my friend, too, and at least you had the guts to ask some girls out.”

“I guess,” I said. “Whatever happened to that 9th grade girl you liked, the clarinetist?”

“Nothing, we talked after practice a few times, but I never got around to asking her to hang out or something. This year in the other world is going to be different.”

“That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Remember I said Mr. Hull had suggested I go with you?”

“Yeah.  I also remember telling you that you should come along, and you said it would be a bad idea.”

“OK, yeah.  Things have changed a lot since then,” I said. “I decided a year to get away from things here would be good.  I left a message for Hull about it.”

“Sweet! I’ll give Dormer a call and see if there’s anything he can do from his side.  It would be really good to have you there.” He paused and looked a little embarrassed. “I’m a little freaked out about going there when I don’t know anybody. It really will be good to have you there.”

“First I have to get in,” I said. “What can you tell me about the exam?”

Joel had taken the exam seriously, despite Dormer’s belief that he just had to do well enough not to embarrass Legatus Matsumoto to her colleagues.  It had paid off, and he had done well enough not just to qualify for admission, but for a full scholarship. The Obdresti crown would still be paying for his living expenses, and it sounded like the Obrestis, the Feldaren foreign ministry, and the US government would all somehow be working together on security… but he took quite a bit of pride in saying that neither they nor his dad would be paying a dime for his tuition.  The scholarship also came with free lunches, and a monthly transit pass.

The exam itself didn’t sound much worse than the PSATs we’d taken the prior year, just a lot longer.  The minimum score to get in was high, and higher for juniors – or as their system went, second years – but to get into our school in NYC you had to be in a very high percentile on city-wide tests just to qualify to sit for the school’s own test, and then only about one kid in 20 who took the test got in.

I’ve always been good at taking tests; they often seem like a game or a fun sort of puzzle to me, and maybe for that reason, I don’t get stressed with them as often as most people seem to.  On the other hand, I had less than a month until school would be starting, and Joel had had half the summer to study. It wasn’t clear it was even still possible for me to go, but Hull and Dormer both seemed like they could be persuasive.

We walked to his house to borrow the study guides Dormer had given him, and I headed home late in the afternoon so I could get dinner with my dad; we were supposed to be driving back upstate in the morning.  He was in the living room when I got home, working on some papers for the coming semester, but looked up almost immediately from them to ask me, “Why was someone from the State Department calling you?”

It had been Agent Delgado, and after a long and less than comfortable explanation to my dad, I called her back.  They had been forcing the gate to open more frequently while making arrangements for Joel’s move, and she said she’d see what Hull could do when it next opened.

Sat, August 1
Lassander, Kingdom of Obdrest
The King’s private study

Phillip Marius, better known to his nation as Phillip V, and to the world as King of Obdrest, felt every one of his 71 years.  He had never wanted the crown, and with two older brothers, two nephews, and a positive horde of his brothers’ grandchildren – not to mention great-grandchildren, he’d never expected to be.  But the past few years had seen one death after another.

Today, he was sitting in his study, waiting for the phone to ring.  Not literally; he had one half of a pair of magic mirrors. They couldn’t be tapped, could be taken anywhere, and you could see the speaker, but it was close enough. His was face down for privacy, and soon enough, it spoke – muffled by speaking into the table: “Good afternoon, your majesty!”

He turned the mirror over and propped it on a book.  “Good morning, Dormer.” The gate was six hours behind Obdrest, and it was just past dawn there; the younger man looked far too cheerful for the hour. “I take it you have good news about Christina’s son?”

“I do, Your Majesty. Prince Joel passed the entrance examination,” said Dormer, “and his father has agreed to let him come here for the year.   I think that will be long enough to convince him to stay.”

“Thank you, Dormer.  I don’t suppose we know for sure how a 16-year-old boy will react to all this, but you’ve got the best sense of him.  Are the security arrangements sound?”

“My counterpart from the Americans is an old veteran, Your Majesty. I think you’d like him, and I’m learning by his example.  The Feldarenese security services seem solid as well,” here Dormer paused a moment, “I’d be happier if Joel could stay at our ambassador’s residence, but they make a good point about the difficulty in keeping his identity confidential there.”

“One I agree with, and not just in case he decides to return to his world,” said Philip. “I can’t prove that someone was behind the deaths of Louis and Brinna, and I certainly can’t put a name to them, but I am firmly convinced that we have an enemy who can reach past our best security here. Let Joel enjoy his first year here in as much peace as he can.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Speaking of keeping him safe, keep an eye out for my sister-in-law, or someone working for her.”

“What is your concern about the Duchess of Lassander?”

“I hope it’s nothing, but Sophie is too perceptive by half. She means well, but she has a terrible blind spot for her family.”

Monday, July 27th
Upstate NY, my grandfather’s cabin

Near the end of July, my time at camp was over without the little luck talking to girls I’d Had from the prior year but having had a good time anyway.   I’d had a couple of quiet days at my grandfather’s cabin. I couldn’t shake a certain unease about being on my own a lot during the coming school year — with Joel away and Anne busy with college applications — but it seemed like it would be a nice break for a few weeks going into August.

That changed with one phone call; my dad picked up.  After a moment, he said, “Mark, it’s for you,” and he looked worried.

It was Anne’s mother on the phone.  “There’s been an accident,” she said. “Anne was out running in the morning, and she was hit by a truck.”

“Oh no!” I said, or something stronger to that effect. “Is she going to be alright?”

“It’s too soon to know. We’re with her at the hospital.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“She’s resting now, but she was asking about you.  She’s likely to be here for a while, and I know it would mean a lot if you could come visit in the next few days.”

“Of course, Mrs. Adler.  Can I put my dad back on? He’ll be the one to drive me there.”

They talked for a little while.  After the call, my dad told me, “I think this sounds serious, and that we should drive down to the city tonight.  With traffic, it will be too late to make visiting hours, but what do you say we spend the night at home and go visit first thing in the morning?”

We didn’t talk much on the drive down, and when we got in, we called Anne’s mother at the hospital.  It sounded like she was still resting, and that there was no change in her condition, so we ordered a pizza, and I went to bed worried.

In the morning, my father called the hospital room to see how she was doing and whether we could come visit. There was no answer when the switchboard put him through to the room, so he called her house.  I only heard his half of the conversation, but from the “I’m so sorry,” it was clear that things had gotten worse. It did not occur to me what he was really hearing.  When he got off the phone, my father looked more tired than I could remember seeing him.

“Mark,” he said, “Anne passed away overnight. That was her grandmother who was watching the house while her parents were at the hospital.”

“How did that happen?” I asked. “It sounded like she was going to be OK yesterday; healthy people our age don’t just die.”

“I don’t know, Mark.  Her grandmother didn’t say how.”

If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have needed to.  “That’s just not possible.  She is one of the healthiest people I know.  How do you just die overnight if you’re fine after the accident?”

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but her mom said she’d be in the hospital for a while, right?  They don’t keep people in the hospital any longer than they have to without a good reason.”

The rest of that day and the next few were a bit of a blur; we talked to her mom later in the day, and she asked me pass the news to Anne’s close friends at school and to let them know about the memorial service.  I talked to Joel, and digging up a class directory, I called one of the girls in my year who was on the softball team with Anne.  She’d send word on to the rest of their team, and the softball girls in Anne’s year would know how to reach the rest of her friends.

The memorial service was on Saturday; a lot of people from school turned out.  While waiting for the service, my dad and I heard what had happened — the accident had damaged the big artery leading out of her heart, which had started to rupture overnight.  They’d tried surgery, but it failed to save her.

My dad and I sat with Joel’s family; it was a nice service, with a bunch of her relatives sharing memories of her, and the captain of the softball team said a few words as well.  I was really surprised that her mom mentioned me in her remarks, referring to me as “Anne’s oldest friend.”

Afterwards, there was a reception at their house; my dad and I went, as did a few of Anne’s close friends from her class and I think their parents, but Joel and his family didn’t go.  I didn’t know anyone else there besides my dad, Anne’s folks, and her grandmother.  I’d been to funerals for a couple of really old family members I hadn’t known well, but nobody I’d really known had died, let alone someone my own age.  It felt sad, awkward, and when Anne’s mother took the time to speak to me, I really did not know what to say, so I stuck with what my dad had suggested before we went in.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Adler,” I said.  She looked sad and far away, and for someone who was younger than my folks, very old.

“Thank you, Mark,” she said. “It means a lot to have you here.  She always missed you over the summers.  When you were away in seventh grade, too.”

“I never knew that,” I said. We’d gone to my grandfather’s cabin upstate pretty much every summer, except when my parent’s academic careers had taken us elsewhere – most notably when I’d lost a year between sixth and seventh grade. She’d always done more to keep in touch than I had, and I suddenly felt terrible about that. “I wish we could have gotten to the city sooner.”

“It’s OK, Mark. She was already resting,” her voice broke up, and she took a moment before she said, “the doctors tell us there is nothing more anyone could have done.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said again.  It was getting repetitive, but I really didn’t know what else to say.

She patted me on the shoulder. “When we first got to the hospital to see her, she asked us to check in on you to make sure you were OK while she was there.  She cared about you an awful lot, and you’ve been friends for such a long time.”

“I know, Mrs. Adler,” I said. “She’s been like a sister to me.” …had been? That she was gone still felt very much less than real.

“That’s probably what it was, Mark, but I’ve wondered for a long time if it was more than that for her.”

I did not know what to say to that, and I wasn’t sure I got what she meant.  Even more so, I wasn’t expecting what she said next: “I half expected you two would end up dating one of these days.”

I shook my head and kept from saying the first thing that came to mind, she really didn’t see me that way!  I’m not sure that she was the one I’d have been trying to convince. Instead, I just said “I don’t know, but I miss her very badly. I’m so sorry.”

“We all miss her,” she said, and when she moved off to speak to someone else, I felt even more alone than I had.

June 1st
William Jennings Bryan High School
Cafeteria, lunch break

“That was pretty crazy,” I said to Joel.  We hadn’t had a chance to talk about the tour afterwards; Count Dormer had offered to take his family out to dinner after while I’d headed home.

“You mean the trip on Saturday, right, not the American History class?” Joel joked, and after a pause, “Yeah, maybe. I mean, kind of the craziest thing was how normal everything was, right?”

“Not for me.  Flying carriages? Cool, but not normal.  Dragon skeletons which looked like they could have eaten a T-Rex for dinner? Scary, and definitely not normal.”

“Malls. Preppy kids in uniforms,” Joel countered. “I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it.”

“I guess.”  I thought for a minute.  “So does that mean you’re going?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m leaning towards it.  Being Crown Prince, and later King, I could do a lot to help my family, and it sounds more fun than getting a real job here.”

“You’re not worried about whatever has been killing off the royal family there?”

“Of course, I’m worried,” said Joel, “but it’s not like there aren’t things to worry about here.  It’s only been about a month since they closed school early because they were worried about riots.”  He was talking about after the Rodney King verdict; there hadn’t been riots in New York, like there had been in Los Angeles, but we’d all been sent home mid-day out of concern.

“Yeah, it’s no picnic here,” I replied, “but that stuff isn’t personal.”

“Neither was the bomb, but I’ll bet you remember drills ducking your head in the hallway of P.S.11 just as much as I do,” said Joel.

“Ok, Ok.”

“Besides,” said Joel, “I bet kings get all the girls.”

“Wouldn’t you be worried more about being stuck in an arranged marriage?”

“They seem way too modern for that.”

“I really need to borrow that history book from you. We saw one really big, modern city,” I said, and shook my head. “How do you know the whole world is like that?”

“I don’t, and you can keep the history book.  But this,” and here he made a wide gesture with his arm, “sucks.”

I shrugged. “At least it’s the devil we know.”

“You should have more of a sense of adventure.  I can ask Dormer if they can sponsor you or whatever, you should come.”

“Hull suggested the same thing,” I shook my head, “and it’s crazy.  I’ve got a hard enough time here, why start over?”

“You’d be the exotic foreign student with a Prince for a best friend. Even you could get a girlfriend with that going for you.”

“That’d be nice, but computer geeks are probably just as much girl repellent there as here.  Look, just send me a postcard when you settle in,” I said, and tried to change the subject. “How is your final paper for American History going?”

Badly, it sounded like; he’s picked from a list of suggestions and didn’t care much about the Constitutional convention.  I’d had the opposite problem; I’d sold the teacher on my topic, but as usual it was turning into a long narrative without any real thesis.

I had biked that day, and Anne had practice, so we didn’t see each other after school; the next day, when we talked, and I told her about the trip she seemed relieved to hear that I’d turned Hull down and amused that their first emperor shared the long form of my name.  She seemed a bit on edge around Joel after that, and with finals and a few papers left to do, we were all very busy.

June-July

The last few weeks of the school year seemed to take forever.  Big papers for English and American History, finals in most of my classes, and my only two close friends avoiding each other did not make for a pleasant time.

Then it was summer, and Joel had to study for the entrance exam — more out of pride than necessity, since he would be sponsored if he did poorly — and he disappeared into that. Anne went off to her sports camp, and I didn’t really know anyone else well enough to keep in touch over the summer.  A little ways into July, I left town myself – to spend three weeks at the academic “camp” which my folks had shipped me off to the year before.

The prior year I’d gotten a low-end 286 laptop to get me to agree to go, essentially a bribe to allow my parents a few kid-free weeks. My brother, being fonder of the outdoors, had been spending a big chunk of his summers at a more traditional outdoorsy camp for several years. The one I attended was at a college campus in suburban Connecticut.  Much to my surprise, I’d enjoyed it, and looked forward to going this year.  While there was nothing computer-related, the classes were fluffy and entertaining, and I’d had some luck talking to girls which I’d never had at home.

This year, I’d asked my parents if I could do the full double session of 6 weeks, but it was important to them that I went along for the family vacation to the cabin in upstate NY, so I was there for three weeks again.

Anne had sent a letter while I was at camp, and I felt a little bad about just having sent a postcard back.  Still, I’d see her at the end of the summer, and it sounded like as usual she was having fun.  Joel sent a postcard.  Slightly odd-sized, it had a picture of a dragon on it and sure enough, it was one someone had brought back from the other world; his note didn’t say whether his folks had bought it on the tour or if he’d asked Dormer to get it for him.

June 1st
Queen Sara Memorial Academy
Classroom 1-D, before school

Jack Allard and Kai Matsumoto were nearly inseparable friends since elementary school, and as usual before class they were discussing Jack’s favorite subject — girls. “I hope there are some cute first years in the fall,” said Jack.

“You do realize your sister is going to be a first-year next fall,” said Kai.

“Maybe she’ll have some cute friends she can introduce me to!”

“Maybe she’ll tell her friends to watch out for her older brother,” said Kai.

Jack rolled his eyes.  “That would be just like Tika, but a guy can dream, can’t he?”

“You’re taking Mia not coming back pretty well.”  Jack was on the soccer team, and Mia was their year and had been manager for the soccer team… still would be for the next month, although the season was over now, and they’d all be busy with exams soon.

Jack had an on-and-off crush on her since middle school, but never acted on it; Kai had wondered if it was mutual, and if so, if Jack had been the reason she had volunteered as the manager this year.  Her family was from Obdrest, and they were moving back there over the summer.

“I never had a chance with her,” said Jack, letting his breath out.

“Not too late to ask her out,” said Kai.

“A whirlwind summer romance, before she leaves?” Jack laughed.  “More like ‘shot down,’ and too busy with exams and moving even if she wanted to.”

Kai shrugged.

Jack went on. “Hey, why don’t you ask Amy out over the summer.”

“I do NOT like Amy like that,” said Kai.

Queen Sara Memorial Academy, Feldaren, Union of the Etciv
Main Administration building
Afternoon

The Foreign Service officer, Hull, decided to strike up a conversation with me.  “That book you were reading on the bus — did I see right that it was a biography of their first emperor?”

“Yeah,” I said.

When I didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you think of it?”

“It’s pretty good.  I’m not very far along, but it’s an easy read.  If you mean the subject, it’s really hard to wrap my head around the way they’re describing him.”

“How so?”

“Nothing about his story makes sense.  If he’d lived longer ago, it would be pretty easy to write him off as a legendary figure like King Arthur, but he didn’t really live that long ago. Especially around here. From what I can see, they recorded history better than we did.” I pointed out what appeared to be a photo in the book. “They had magic that worked basically like a camera in his lifetime, so it’s not even like we just have a painting of the guy like we would someone who lived the same time back on Earth.”

“I’ve read his entry in the encyclopedia they provided,” said Hull, “and I’ve read some of my predecessors’ notes about Joel’s mother and this place.  I’m still not sure he’s any harder to believe in than anything else we’ve learned about this world. Does the author there take a side on one of the theories about where he came from?”

“Yes,” I said, “the author thinks he must have come from a more technologically advanced world, one of those occasional arrivals that the Legatus was telling us about.  It makes sense.”

“Why do you think that it makes sense?”

“If he’d just invented gunpowder, it would be one thing, but he jumped over a lot of steps, and it’s not like that was his only invention. It’s straight out of Connecticut Yankee.”

Hull laughed. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

“Well, it’s the original.  I read a lot of science fiction, and there are more books on that theme — modern guy goes back to the past. Usually becomes crazy powerful.  I liked Lest Darkness Fall better than most because the main character in that one doesn’t succeed at everything he tries.”

“It sounds like their first emperor pretty much succeeded at everything,” said Hull.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I said, “or at least until he tried to fight one dragon too many.  At almost 120 years old, if the stories are true.” I shook my head. “That would not be believable if someone put it in a novel.”

“And yet it’s accepted as history here.  It’s an interesting place; I’m looking forward to my posting.”

“Your colleague, Agent Delgado, said your goal was to set up more trade with the US?”

“If I can, yes,” said Hull. “Getting some American students over here to study and share our culture and values would be a good start.”

“Some students?” I asked. “It’s just going to be Joel, right?”

“That’s the plan for now,” he said.  “It would be good to have more. Like a friend of Joel’s who could remind him of home, given that he’s got a career path that leads him away.  It’s something you could consider.”

I shook my head.  “This place has been interesting to visit, but my moving here sounds like a bad idea.”

Hull shrugged. “I don’t know for certain that we could make the arrangements, but it would be a good thing for our long-term presence here, and I think it would be good for Joel.” He stopped for a moment, took out a business card, and gave it to me. “Just think about it. It would probably look good on college applications for you, too.”

Joel and his parents were in the office for a few more minutes.  They didn’t look unhappy when they came out, but I’ve never been good at reading people.  The group — Legatus Matsumoto and Count Dormer especially — said their goodbyes to the Dean and Head of School, and we headed out.

We took the bus a few minutes away to a large parking lot, where the flying carriage — or perhaps another one like it — awaited us.  Matsumoto let us know that this was the last stop, and that she’d be staying here, as would Hull. Morgan would come with us, and then double back once we were through the gate.

The flight back was not so novel as the one out, and there was less to see from this end of the suburbs out to the Gate complex. It was still mid-afternoon, and two weeks ago the Legatus had said we might be returning after dinner time.  I asked Brother Oliver about that, and he told me, “The gate’s schedule is variable, but we can predict it in advance within an hour or two of accuracy.  Today, things aligned to both open and close earlier in the day than usual.”

“What things aligned?” I asked.

“Some of the magical forces involved.  It’s not my area of specialty so my trying to explain it wouldn’t do justice to the topic, even if you had the background to understand it.  A big part of it, though, is literally gravitation and celestial bodies.

“Every habitable alternate world we’ve found, including yours and this one, has the same solar year.  Most, but not all of them, are in sync with our seasons.  The moon, or moons, vary a lot more, as does the rest of the solar system.  Your world, and the one the main gate event came from, has only one moon, and a relatively large one.  Our world has two.  The larger is not so different from yours, but it’s got a smaller companion, farther out.

“We’re not clear on why it matters, but the alignment of the two lunar schedules correlates pretty closely with the limits of how long we easily can keep the Gate open, and how often it will reopen.”

“Interesting,” I said.  “So, if Joel comes to school here, he’d only be able to come home if he had a two-week vacation that aligned with the openings?”

Brother Oliver nodded. “Mostly, yes.  There are a few alignments every year where it will naturally open more often, and if there is an anchor, like with your world, we can open it out of schedule if we’re willing to spend enough magic on it.  There’s been discussion of that as a contingency plan, if Joel comes here and ends up in danger.”

“Thanks.  Is this something I could learn more about?”

“Unless you move here and then join the Brotherhood, probably not much more.  Having people from another world here has always been a one-way trip in the past, or vice versa in very few cases like Joel’s mother’s.  We’ve opened up more about the general workings of the Gate than we have in the past, just to allow the possibility of formalizing relations with your world.

“We’ve kept most of the details about the Gate secret for as long as it’s existed, and I don’t see us changing that any more than we have to.”

“Ah, bummer,” I said, and figured it was time to read some more of my book.

Queen Sara Memorial Academy, Feldaren, Union of the Etciv
Early afternoon

I was interrupted in my reading when the bus stopped. The road we were on ran beside what looked to me more like a college campus than a high school, but the sign made clear that this was our destination. There was a low masonry fence on either side of the entrance, which consisted of a narrow driveway and wide sidewalks. A few small buildings were near the entrance, with larger ones farther off. A streetcar stop was just outside; judging by the uniforms, the handful of people waiting were students.

Legatus Matsumoto got out first, entered the nearest building, and after a few moments came back and told us it was time to get off the bus.  A few minutes after we’d unloaded, a bearded man, possibly younger than my parents but probably not by much, came down the driveway.  He greeted the Legatus, and she introduced him to the rest of our group.

“This is Henry Jerdew, Dean of the Upper School,” she said. “For the Americans, that’s grades ten to twelve; the lower school is grades seven to nine.  As I understand it, that’s not quite how you divide Junior and Senior High School, but it may be easiest to think of it that way.”

She went on to introduce us all, notably introducing Joel with his family as the potential visiting student being co-sponsored by her government and the Americans, and no mention was made of Joel’s mother or why he was actually here.  I was introduced as Joel’s friend, purely here to observe.  She ended with “…and you may remember Carl, Count Dormer?”

“Yes, of course,” said Dean Jerdew. “Does Obdrest have some interest in student exchange these days?”

“Obdrest has the same interest in increased trade as the Union, of course,” replied Dorner, “but in this case I’ve been borrowed to help with security arrangements.”

One of the Dean’s eyebrows went up, but he did not press further.  Instead, he addressed our whole group, saying, “Welcome to Queen Sara. It’s an honor to host the first young people to be allowed through the Gate, and doubly so if Joel and his parents choose for him to attend next year.

“The academy has been here for 110 years, we were funded by a gift from Queen Sara of Penrose and Kala, to commemorate the young men from Feldaren who died fighting as her ally in the Second Slave War.  We moved to this location about 20 years later; the land here was a gift from the Senate on the condition that we admit young women as well.”

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around campus and the upper school buildings in particular.”

The main driveway ran a short block, ending in a small roundabout at one end of a fairly large open area; a narrower alley or driveway threaded off to one side away from the open area.  Along the way, there were several small buildings which he told us were for staff use.  The open area was about a short city block on each side, grass in the middle with sidewalk around it. The grass was broken by a few benches and picnic tables around the edges, and in the very center was the statue of a woman made of a smooth white stone, atop a low pedestal.

When we got to the roundabout, Dean Jerdew pointed out the statue.  “That’s Queen Sara on the center of the green. It’s a pity you couldn’t come earlier; we could have dropped by a class in session, and on a nice day like this the green is a popular lunch spot.”

I think I grimaced, and Joel spoke up. “So, there are Saturday classes?”

“Yes,” said the Dean.  “We’ve a five-and-a-half-day schedule. It does vary, but most Saturday morning classes are science labs and electives.  A fair number of clubs use Saturday afternoon to have a longer block of time on campus for club activities.”

Joel’s dad asked the next question, “What are the electives here?”

“I’ll go over a little more about our electives when we tour the academic building,” said the Dean, “but we have a pretty set curriculum in English, math, history, and sciences unless students place ahead in one or more of those.  Second years can take one or two electives; a lot take an advanced honors follow-up to one of the first-year classes, and we offer a fair number of other subjects. We’ll send you back with a full curriculum.”

From there, our first stop was the high — or as he said, upper — school buildings, which were an L shaped pair of structures connected by open walkways at one end.  Each was three stories, and when we entered the nearer one, the first sight was a large bank of lockers.  From there, the first thing he pointed out was the cafeteria, which was mostly empty but there were a few students still hanging out after lunch.  They had uniforms, and formal ones to my eye — almost a suit, although rather than matching, the pants or skirts were grey and jackets dark blue.  The Dean pointed out the hot lunch line — already closed, and the menu blackboard wiped clean — and a separate line for packaged snacks that remained open with a very bored student behind it.

Joel and I went up to check it out; it seemed picked over, but there were several wrapped sandwiches and pastry, as well as potato chips and similar snacks.  Most amusingly, the main brand of chips was “Wiz” — with a cartoon wizard, but oddly close to a brand from our world.

When we came back, the Dean was talking to Joel’s parents.  “As you can see, we’ve got a formal uniform.  The new student council president ran on changing it. Those discussions will happen after final exams, but I expect if Joel joins us, that things will be a little more relaxed by the time he starts.”

I wanted to ask how much more relaxed, but I wasn’t the one who might be attending, and Joel didn’t bring it up.  His father moved to asking about when exams were — around three weeks off at the end of June — and it sounded like the school year ran about the same as ours in New York, just a little longer into the very beginning of July.

We went on to tour the rest of the building, which was mostly similar looking classrooms.  They were very nice and modern, and well provisioned with windows. William Jennings Bryan HS, where we went, was an old and dark building and like many NY schools had bars on the first-floor windows, but it could have been worse — I’d visited Hunter once, and their converted armory had almost no windows at all.

One thing that caught my attention was that the first two rooms we checked out had no clear specialty, so at the second I asked, “What subject is taught here?”

“Except for subjects needing special equipment, like science labs or music, students stay with the same room throughout the day,” replied the Dean.  That seemed odd, coming from the system in NY, but I didn’t suppose it actually made much difference.

After that, we took the walkway over to the second building.  Apparently, the homerooms were mostly divided by a year per floor – first-year classrooms on the second floor of the building we’d first entered, second-years on the top floor of that one, and third-years on the top floor of the other.  The lower floors were a mix of science labs, specialty classrooms, and the school nurse’s infirmary.

Our next stop was the central building on the river side of the green — the Dean pointed out that it was the oldest academic building on campus.  At one point it had been the main school building, but when the new upper school building opened it was repurposed into the “arts center,” with specialty classrooms and studios, and from the sound of it, club rooms used by both the upper and lower schools’ non-athletic clubs.  Unlike the academic building, that was mostly cleared out, many of these rooms were occupied and busy, and we got to peek in at a few.  The building was also home to a big auditorium at one end, called the main hall.  The dean said it was big enough to hold the entire upper school or lower school student body and faculty, although not both at once.

We skipped the lower school building on the far side of the arts center, which was a single structure although it was one floor taller than the upper school buildings.  We next went to the sports center, which was again shared between the upper and lower schools; it consisted of a few low, connected buildings all along one side of the green.  As a gym building, it lost my interest, right up until the Dean said something that caught my attention — “Most students don’t take physical education classes in the upper school, but instead satisfy the requirement by joining one of the athletic clubs.”

“Are there try-outs for the teams?” Joel asked.

“It depends on which,” replied the Dean.  “Right now, for the boys, only baseball has a separate competitive team and open club.  Some of the others like soccer have a single club, but still have try-outs within the club for a competitive team.”

They had a large pool, although from the look of it, it might not be usable socially; the entire thing was in use by the swimming clubs when we looked in.  One other thing that caught my attention was at the stairs at the back of the main gym, a sign said “Dueling Club.”

When I asked about that, the Dean replied “The school was founded a long time ago and has some equally old traditions.  Keeping that sign up is one of the odder ones that the Fencing Club has kept.”

Our last stop was the main administration buildings; we were all briefly introduced to Doctor Mittari, the head of school, and Joel and his parents met with him briefly in private.  During that time, the Foreign Service officer, Hull, decided to strike up a conversation with me.  “That book you were reading on the bus — did I see right that it was a biography of their first emperor?”

Queen Sara Memorial Academy, Lunch time

Elise Shevariet had hurried out of her biology lab to the student council room and hoped not to have to stay too long.  Saturday trains were less predictable, and she did not have a lot of time to get to her job.  Still, this was probably the last time this year’s and next year’s student councils would all be together in one place.

The council room was on the top floor of the Arts Center and had been there since the school first moved to this site; dark paneling lined the walls, and a large painting of Queen Sara of Penrose overlooked a large conference table.  It showed her in middle age, shortly before she died, rather than the younger woman whose statue graced the campus green.

Several people were already there; the rest came in not long after her.  After the elections, she knew them all at least a little although her loss for Vice President still hurt.  From what she could see, the new VP, Neil Mayhan didn’t seem like a bad person, and he knew the new President, Anson Gramm, quite well. It just didn’t seem right to her – Neil hadn’t even been involved in the Student Council here at all in the past year, while Elise had been the first-year representative and had been on the lower school council for all three years before that.

Diane said a few words thanking her and the other class representatives, and Anson talked about his plans to ask the administration to soften the dress code.  Elise understood the appeal but wasn’t sure what to think about it; her family was perpetually short on cash and rotating the same couple of uniforms, rather than casual clothes, made things much simpler.

There was a little business to discuss after, and then Diane formally passed the record books on to Anson.  People were staying after, but Elise said her goodbyes and headed for the streetcar.

Saturday, May 30th
City of Feldaren, Union of the Etciv
Morning

As we approached the city, Brother Oliver started pointing out the geography; we were approaching from the east, towards the Little Darien River — the old city was located where the Great and Little branches of the river met. Most of the city’s suburbs had grown up along the east bank of the Little Darien — Great Darien having been too wide to bridge until much more recently.  We would backtrack to the Queen Sara Memorial Academy, our second stop, which was located along the East bank of the combined river, a bit south of the old city.

The city got much denser as we approached the river; houses gave way to low apartments, and then to taller buildings, most of them looked to be around 6-8 stories.  Close to the river, the railroad line we followed disappeared into a large station building, and near it a cluster of taller still and surprisingly modern-looking buildings.  A few hundred feet separated the station from the river, and across from it, a larger cluster of tall buildings, most built in an older style — reminiscent of the art deco of the Chrysler and Empire State but more ornate.  Just south of them, at the far end of the old city, a massive stone fortress stood, with the top level covered in grass and looking like it had been converted to a park.  Several bridges were visible, and from our height we could see the curve of the wider Great Darien on the other side of the old city, and a single very tall bridge crossing it.  Suburbs appeared to spread out into the distance on that side.

We circled around the end of the island, and came in to land in a parking lot at a park just on the far side of the old fortress.  A fenced area enclosed a few of these flying carriages; most were smaller, and some had other livery.  A tour bus, familiar in all but the exact design, sat outside the fence. A pair of security guards let us out of the gate, and onto the bus we went.

It was Saturday there as well — calendar reforms in the generation of the event had led to synchronizing their week with the newcomers’, and when trade had started with ours it had been discovered that it was the same there as well.  Shops were mostly open on Saturday, but the business district was quiet – most people with office jobs had the day off.  The fortress we’d seen was apparently the old imperial garrison, and now as I’d thought, a park on top and a museum and art space below.  Oliver told us that later in the day, it would be quite busy.

We spent our first hour or so on the ground viewing several civic buildings; the Legatus seemed particularly proud that they had both the Imperial and Union legislatures here.  I found it very surprising when she implied the Union was the greater body, and I decided I’d ask Joel to loan me the history book when he was done with it.

The highlight of the morning was visiting the old train station.  The Legatus told us that all the train lines into and through the old city were now underground, but the original central station had been preserved.  The first two floors looked like solid, brick buildings and while the carvings on the outside were fanciful and ornate, with paired dragons around each entrance, the third floor and the roof were like nothing I’d ever seen.  The third-floor walls and roof appeared to be almost entirely seamless glass, with walls coming up and curving into a series of larger domes toward the center, with only a tall stone clock tower piercing them.  The color of the glass seemed to change depending on what direction we looked at it from.

Part of the first floor remained in use for people going to the underground lines, but the remainder of the building was now a shopping mall.  Dormer told Joel and his parents, “If you see something you like, the Obdresti crown would be happy to pay for it.”  He went on to say that if we thought of an Imperial as basically a hundred dollars, that would be close enough to give us a sense of the prices.

In the end, we spent over an hour shopping, much to Oliver’s amusement and Legatus Matsumoto’s annoyance.  April found a toy shop and came away with a stuffed toy dragon and a model airplane.  Joel’s mom and dad disappeared into a fancy cookware store for some time, while Joel and I managed to find a bookstore.

He discovered that they had quite a range of comics.  I went first to the history section but groaned when I discovered the name of their first emperor from one of the books: The Life of Marcus the Conqueror — I’ve never been fond of the long form of my first name.   It looked like most of the big paperback history books were marked 1/10th of an Imperial or “90 mil”, which by Dormer’s comparison would be $9-10, so not out of line with what they’d have been back home.  I ended up with two books – the biography I’d picked up almost immediately, and a young adult story collection Thrilling Tales of Mages at War! – and Joel was happy to drop them into his basket with an impressively large pile of comics and paperback comic collections.

After shopping, Legatus Matsumoto brought us to a crepe shop for a snack.  Brother Oliver didn’t eat, but most of the group got savory-filled crepes full of egg or ground meats.  I got a sweet apple-filled crepe, and not to be outdone on dessert by a big kid, Joel’s sister got strawberry and whipped cream, with chocolate sauce.  Interestingly, neither bananas nor peanut butter were on the menu.

Leaving the mall, we passed a newsstand.  The head           lines on the daily papers were all something forgettable about transit funding, but a magazine The World Weekly caught my attention: “Crisis in the Obdresti Succession.”  When we returned to the bus, I mentioned it to Joel, and he asked Dormer about it.  “That’s about my mother’s family, right?”

“Your family too, your Highness, although you didn’t grow up with them.”

“What is the crisis?”

“As I told you, there is no other heir to the throne, and that you exist is a secret.  Your family has had a long sequence of tragedies, but most significantly about three and a half years ago, rebels bombed the marriage of your cousin Christina Brissena.  She, your uncle King Alexander James, and both of his children died in the blast.  Several others were crippled, including your uncle Carl.  He died a little over a year later.  Two cousins of yours, both young children, were next in line for the throne but neither lived to their majority to be crowned. Now your great-great-uncle Philip is our king. He is an old man and has been heartbroken since his only granddaughter died, and even more so for his two cousins dying so young.”

“The founder of the present House, your great-great-grandfather Alexander Marius, and his son, Alexander VIII, ruled for nearly eighty years between them.  There are claimants from a prior house, but they are separated from the monarchy by over 100 years, and distant relatives at that.”

“I don’t know if the king will live long enough to see you graduate high school.” Dormer shook his head. “I am sure that any council of regency would delay the coronation to let you graduate high school and reach your majority, but the situation is reaching a boiling point.”

“High school?” asked Joel’s dad. “Coronation?  My son is going to attend college.  They do have universities here, right?”

“Yes, of course,” said Legatus Matsumoto.  “Some exceptionally good ones. I believe there are a few good ones in Obdrest as well.”

Dormer had started shaking his head but stopped at the mention of Obdrest.  “Under the present circumstances, the sooner Joel could be present on his throne, the better.  I’d sleep much easier if he took a degree there, after being crowned, rather than here. I think that would be true for almost any of his family’s loyal subjects.”

Joel’s dad looked at Matsumoto, and she replied. “That matches my understanding of the domestic situation there.  If you’d like to know more, I can get one of our intelligence analysts to discuss it further.”

“Speaking of the domestic situation there,” Joel’s dad went on, “if there have been so many deaths over the past few years, how would my son possibly be safe there?”

Matsumoto looked at Dormer, and at the US Diplomatic Security agent, Morgan.  Both nodded, and then Dormer half shrugged, before Matsumoto spoke.  “First, Mr. Ross, let me be clear that I have great confidence in the ability of our country to keep your son safe while in high school, especially with the very able assistance of Count Dormer and Agent Morgan.

“It does make it easier that very few people know that a child of Princess Christina exists at all, and your son’s precise circumstances and identity are known only to the group of people present here.”

She paused and took a breath before continuing. “I also need to be clear that once your son takes the throne, or if he chooses to go to Obdrest in advance of that, we can’t offer anywhere near the same degree of confidence.  Obdrest is a critical ally, and we have been giving every possible security assistance to the present King and will do so for Joel if he chooses to take the throne.

“Part of the problem is that both recent deaths only show evidence of being a matter of natural disease and an accident respectively but coming so closely on the heels of political violence, it is difficult not to suspect some unknown form of foul play.

“We’ve already provided intelligence files on this situation to your government. Mr. Hull, if you and Agent Delgado can provide the Ross family access to them, or if they’d prefer, give them your assessment…” — here Hull nodded — “…we would appreciate it given how short their time is on this side of the Gate today.”

She looked at Joel before going on, “I would also encourage you to at least look through the history textbook we provided last time, as I think it would make clear the importance of Obdrest as our ally, and the importance of your family in keeping the peace there.”

There was a brief silence, before Dormer spoke.  “Obdrest is my country, and I have sworn myself to the service of the crown.  While Joel is here, my obligation is to him, and I will protect him — with my life, if need be.”

Joel’s father looked glum.  “We’re going to need to think about this. Just to be sure, if Joel attends school here but he does not choose to stay, he’ll be able to return?”

“Yes, of course,” said Matsumoto.  “Nor can he stay or take the throne without your consent, at least until he reaches legal majority.  In Feldaren, that’s 18, as I believe is the case in your country.”

Joel’s father nodded. “OK, like I said, we’ll think about it.”

“That’s all we can ask,” said Matsumoto, and while Dormer looked like he wanted to say something, he did not.

Our next stop, and the last before heading to the high school, was a brief pass through one wing of the Imperial Museum of Natural Science.  Much to the delight of April, they had an exhibit of dragon skeletons, including one giant that dwarfed any dinosaur at the Natural History Museum back home.  There was a crucial difference, however — these weren’t fossils.

When I asked about the conversion to our calendar, the date the monster was taken down — by the first emperor at that, the same Marcus the Conqueror I’d bought a book about — was less than 500 years ago.  For all the surface similarity to our world, some things were not at all like home, and I decided to start leafing through the biography as we took the bus to see the school Joel might attend next year.

Saturday, May 30th
Manhattan, New York City, United States, Terra, and City of Feldaren, Union the Etciv
Early morning

So here we were, outside the Federal Building once again, with a bigger crowd this time.  Joel had beaten me there — on a Saturday morning, their taxi was faster than the subway — and he was there with his dad, his mom Laura, and his sister April.  Or as he’d have put it, “stepmom” and “half-sister.”  Joel and I had been friends for a couple years in elementary school, albeit not super-close — I was a year ahead of him in school back then. Then his family moved a couple miles farther out in Queens and he ended up at a different elementary school.

By the time we met again — both in 7th grade after I ended up a year behind in school — his mom had passed away, and he had a new two year old sister.  She was a good kid, and going into first grade in the fall; for all that Joel seemed a bit distant from her or his step-mom, he got along with them better than I did with my folks, or my devil of a younger brother.

“Mark, are your parents OK with your coming along?” asked Joel’s dad.

I shrugged. “They signed the waiver.  I don’t think they actually believe me about where it was, but when I mentioned it was to check out a school out of town, they seemed to like the idea.”  My folks had stopped threatening to send me to boarding school whether I’d like it or not since my brother hit his teens and had his own discipline problems, but given how generic the liability release was, I’m pretty sure they thought I was just taking a trip up-state for the day.

After a few more minutes of small-talk, Count Dormer arrived, still early — this time dressed in a contemporary outfit rather than his masterpiece theater get-up.  He looked a lot younger without it; not that much older than us.  I’d heard from Joel that he’d been out to see Joel and his parents a few times.  “Good morning, your highness.”

At 6:30 sharp, a security guard came out to get us, and escorted us inside to see Delgado and Hull. We took the elevator to the same basement conference room, and Delgado began explaining the day ahead of us.  “Thank you for coming.  As you’ve probably guessed, what they call the ‘anchor’ is in a secure room in this building, so we’ll be departing from here. We’re expecting the gate to open shortly — it’s plus or minutes about 30 minutes and could be opening right now, or as late as 8 from what they told us last week — and to allow for an early closure we will have to be back no later than nine hours from when it opens. Except for Hull, who will be staying here, none of us want to be cooling our heels there for a week or two.

“Their embassy has arranged transport from the gate to see both the capitol in downtown Feldaren and the school Joel would most likely be attending if you choose to go forward.  If time permits we had a request for you to see the Obdresti embassy in the capitol, but right now the time looks unlikely to permit it.

“Right now, we are the first civilians to be going through to their side, so” — and here she gave Joel and me a concerned glance — “I expect you to be on your best behavior.  We don’t have any formal customs arrangements, but anything you bring back through will be inspected.  Do you have any questions for us, while we wait for the gate to open?”

“What’s it like going through the gate?” asked Joel.

To this, Dormer replied: “Just like stepping into the next room — one moment I was there, and then I was here.  While it’s open, you can hold a conversation between the two spaces.”

“Really?  So do radio waves pass through?”  I asked.

Dormer shrugged in reply, but Delgado was able to answer — “Yes.  It’s been a useful source of information about their side, and before we moved the anchor to the sub-basement here, I’m sure it was for them as well.”

“You have radio?”

Dormer gave me a look.  “I told you we weren’t barbarians. I don’t think many on our side of the gate realize how quickly we’re falling behind in technology, but at least in the big cities we’ve most of the same day to day comforts as here. His High – Joel –” and he looked a bit pained not to be so formal, “mentioned that you were something of a fan of computers — and we do have them, some built there, and some purchased through the gate.”

I meant to ask him whether they had trade with other technological worlds, but I didn’t have the chance — the door opened, and two people came through.  The first, who we’d met, was Brother Oliver.  The other, unfamiliar to me, looked like a fed — dark suit, a short non-nonsense haircut, very upright posture, and while he wasn’t a large man, he had a strength and intensity about him.  Delgado introduced him as her colleague, Special Agent Thomas Morgan.  He’d been there since the prior opening, looking into security arrangements both for our trip and for Hull, who would be staying behind with Morgan to begin the work on the ground for a diplomatic post.

They escorted us down the hall to a door we’d passed on the way in; for a “secure, undisclosed location,” it looked very innocuous.  Inside was what looked like another conference room, this one empty except for stacked boxes and a large open space at one end.  In that open space, on the floor, you could see a stone slab, mostly obscured by the gate itself — this must have been the “anchor.” The opening itself had hazy boundaries.  There was a clear area about 7 feet tall and equally wide looking out into a well-lit room, with tall columns and several people.  It had a hard bottom edge at the floor, but the top and sides had perhaps a foot of mist, and it was not clear if there was any depth to it — I wanted badly to peek around the back.

I didn’t get the chance; on the far side, Ambassador — Legatus — Matsumoto waved to us and said, “You can come through.” Morgan went through first, followed by Hull, and then Joel’s family.  I was towards the end, with Delgado and Brother Oliver coming through last. It was very odd to step through to another world inconsequentially. I glanced up as I walked through, and there was just enough depth of mist above and to the sides of the opening to feel like a doorway, but the entire passage was two steps. In a couple of minutes, we had all gotten through.

The room we stepped into was nothing like the federal building basement; it was a bright, long space with large windows to either side and large double doors well ahead of us.  Most of the surfaces looked like marble.  The gate we’d just come through was set into one end of the room, with no visible empty space around it.  A couple of large pillars stood ahead of us about halfway to the doors, standing up without reaching the ceiling, inscribed with some text in an alphabet I didn’t recognize.  There were piles of wood crates on one side of the room, and there were a handful of people in loose fitting, dark-colored clothes much like Brother Oliver’s.  They had a fair range of hairstyles, so it seemed Oliver’s bare crown was some combination of age or genetics.

Standing directly in front of us was Legatus Matsumoto.  “Welcome to Feldaren,” she said.  Between herself and Special Agent Delgado, they made a full round of introductions.

From there, we went outside; it was warmer than New York had been at this hour but still Spring weather.  The building we’d come out of looked like a bank, or as if someone had made a modern attempt at Greek Revival.  Around it were clustered a number of low one and two story buildings, none of which would have been out of place in an office park, and further out, small homes.  Beyond that, though, a very solid-looking wall surrounded the place to a height of some of the second story windows.  A road, with rail tracks embedded, ran practically to the base of steps up to the building we’d come out of.

To the side of that, off the tracks, stood what looked like a trolley car.  It was enclosed, appeared to be made of metal with large glass windows and was painted red with a golden dragon at one end.  “If you’ll follow me,” Matsumoto said, and she started walking towards it.

Inside were two rows of pairs of padded seats, with more rows than our group would need.  Joel sat with his sister, his folks together — the rest of us spread out with seats to ourselves.  Two drivers sat at the front, and when we were all seated Brother Oliver stood up again and said — “I realize those of you from the other side won’t have ridden in a flying carriage before, but I understand aircraft are common on your side.  Just keep calm and enjoy the ride.”  With that, the doors closed, and our vehicle began to float slowly skyward — straight up initially, and then at a height not much above the tallest buildings here, accelerating forwards over the wall.

Joel’s dad and mom looked more than a little scared, and Joel looked a little nervous.  I’d always loved flying — even the loud little helicopter which had taken people up for rides to raise money for the volunteer fire department near my grandfather’s cottage one summer — and this was incredibly smooth and near silent.   April, meanwhile, was leaning across Joel and looking out the window looking very happy — I think I heard her whisper “Coolest thing ever!”

We didn’t start off very high — it was below what would have been the tallest buildings in Manhattan — but we passed over the walls, and outside it, large, triangular earthworks which reminded me of pictures of old Napoleonic or Civil War era fortifications.  I really wish I’d brought a camera.

We sped up, rising slowly, roughly following the road and railroad.  Oliver told us that the trip would take about half an hour, and that he’d let us know when there would be a view of downtown.

“How fast are we going?” I asked.

Oliver took a moment to ask the drivers “About a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, although we’ll slow down when we get nearer to the city.  The movement is purely magical.”

That got a very surprised reaction from Joel’s parents, and the State Department folks.  For me, though… once you had a magic gate between worlds, this didn’t seem all that odd.  So about 70 kilometers to get there — that was what, 40 or 50 miles?  Quite a way out of the city, even with cars and trucks — which we saw a few on the road, unfamiliar and blocky looking but recognizable for what they were.

Below us, scattered villages gave way to what looked more like suburbs — and the single tracked rail by the side of the road to double tracks with overhead wires.  April spotted an airplane — two propellers, not especially large — and got very excited.  Add another question about the technology and economics here to wonder about.

Friday evening, May 29th
South Riverside, inner Eastern suburbs of Feldaren

Dinner was over, and Violet Conniello had a question for her parents.  “Dad, Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sweetie,” said her mother.

“Would it be alright if I start riding the streetcar to school?  My friend Tess lives near here so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“What’s wrong with having your mother drop you off?” asked her father.

“Nothing, dad,” said Violet, “but it feels childish, and I’m almost in high school.”

It was deeply embarrassing; dropping her off really meant a ride in one of the mission’s official cars, with her mother in the back with her.

“We’ve talked about this before, Violet,” said her mother. “I don’t mind dropping you off, and your father worries.”

“She’s getting older, I suppose. This is the Tess we met at last year’s festival, yes?”

Violet nodded.  Tess had been her best friend practically since they’d started middle school two and a half years ago, but she wasn’t surprised that her father didn’t remember that.

“Well, how about this, then,” said her father. “You can start taking the streetcar for your Saturday classes until graduation as long as Tess joins you.  If that goes well, you two can take it regularly when you start high school in the fall.”