Part 31 (1/2)
”I've been thinking about that. If we simply take a defensive stance, we might be more vulnerable. However, we should take some time and let you develop your abilities a little more, build up your confidence, before we get aggressive.”
Sam snorted. ”You could always pixelate him.” He licked a finger, flipped another page.
Mara rolled her eyes.
”Also there might be some strategic advantage in letting the pretender reveal himself to us. There are over a hundred pa.s.sengers from the flight. It would take months to investigate them, and we still might not be able to determine which is the pretender,” Ping said.
”Why do you think the pretender wants the Chronicle?”
”I'm not sure. I had a.s.sumed he wants to use it to return to his own realm, but, without you to activate it, I would think it would be useless.”
”Why not just ask me like the Sandovals did? I'd be glad to get him out of here and send him back where he came from.”
”Perhaps he has an agenda we are not aware of.”
”That still implies it has some value to him. Are you sure there is no other way to activate the Chronicle?”
”There are all kinds of myths and legends about the Chronicle of Creation, but one thing is consistent in all of them-only a progenitor can use it to move people metaphysically from one realm to another. That power comes from the progenitor, not the Chronicle itself. The Chronicle is simply a guide and a focusing mechanism.”
”Well, he wants it for something.”
Ping looked over at Sam. ”What do you think, Sam? Why would the pretender want the Chronicle?”
”Why are you asking me? I'm just an idiot.” He flipped another page.
”Look, I'm sorry I called you an idiot. I was upset that you were going to get hurt,” Mara said.
”So do I have to stay away when you guys are here in the warehouse?”
”As long as you promise to be careful, you're welcome to come,” she said.
”And you're going to replace my basketball that you pixelized, right?”
”Right.”
”What was the question?” He scooted his mat around.
”What does the pretender want with the Chronicle?” Ping asked.
”That's easy. He either wants to go to another realm or help someone from another realm come here.”
”But how would he do that without a progenitor to activate it?” Mara asked.
”Now that I can't answer.”
”Okay, let's put that aside for a minute. What about the other pa.s.sengers? Don't they have a right to go home if they want? Wouldn't it be better for them to return to their realms?”
”I suppose there are some who would want to. On the other hand, like Sam and me, there may be some who want to stay. Either way I don't think it would be a good idea to advertise that you have the Chronicle and the ability to use it.”
”What about the pa.s.sengers who are dangerous? Shouldn't we do something about them? I mean, you said I was responsible for everyone crossing over. And just for the record, I have a serious issue with that concept considering the pixel-kicker here and his sister were the actual the culprits.”
”You are the same-” Sam said.
”Yeah, yeah, I know. Same person, trying out different scenarios in different realms. Whatever.”
”Not all mistakes can be undone, no matter who's at fault,” Ping said. ”As I said before, it is not practical for us to find and a.s.sess every pa.s.senger. Some of them don't even live in Portland. A few may not even live in the country. These people are part of this realm, for now. I think the best approach is to deal with them as circ.u.mstances warrant.”
”You're saying this could go on for years.” Mara slumped.
”It could go on for the rest of our lives,” Ping said.
”So what do we do in the meantime?”
”I think we should go to Mount Hood and see the snow,” Sam said. ”What's the point of sitting around here worrying about something that might not even happen?”
Mara put her head in her hands and closed her eyes.
”It was just a suggestion. There's no point in pouting about it. I mean, you don't have to go if you don't want to.”
Ping raised a hand. ”I think Mara is just tired. We can talk about driving up to Mount Hood later. Maybe we should just call it a night.” A cool draft blew out of the darkness, sending a s.h.i.+ver down his spine. ”Besides, it's getting a little chilly in here.”
Mara turned her face upward, her eyes still closed. The right corner of her lips turned upward.
”What are you smiling at?” Sam asked.
Something dappled the light around them, turning it a crisper shade of blue as subtle shadows fluttered over them. Sam looked up and squinted into the fluorescents and could only see broken rays of azure s.h.i.+ning through falling tufts of white and silver, drifting aimlessly toward the floor. He caught his breath. As the first snowflake alighted on his forehead, he exhaled, sending a plume of vapor into the air.
He jumped to his feet, extended his arms and twirled with his face turned toward the falling snow.
Mara opened her eyes. The cold air kissed them, and she wiped away a tear. She looked over at Ping who smiled, nodded and held out a hand to catch a flake in the dusting that fell between them. She did the same. A flake landed on her palm and melted. Soon another took its place, then several more.
The snowfall became steady, dense enough to form eddies and currents in the air as sheets of fluff swirled and coiled, formed blankets that whipped into the light from the darkness of the warehouse. Mara felt it blow across her face, sensed the tingle as pins of coldness dissolved on her cheeks.
She looked down at her legs, still crossed in a lotus position, and realized they were covered. The floor around her was cottony.
”Look, it's starting to acc.u.mulate,” Sam said, kicking at the floor. He turned and ran into the darkness. ”Watch this,” he called back to them. He ran toward them, jumped as soon as he entered the light, landing flat-footed, sliding between Ping and Mara, throwing off a wall of snow in his wake that fell in their laps.
”Hey! Watch it!” Mara jumped up and leaned over to help Ping stand and dust himself off.
Sam laughed from the dark on the other side of the cla.s.sroom where he had slid. ”Hey, Mara, come out here for a minute. You've got to see this.”
Mara glanced at Ping with a look of mock exasperation and shuffled through the snow, already several inches deep, leaving parallel furrows as she slid her feet toward the boy in the dark. Sam stood forty feet away from the lit area in the center of the warehouse.
”What do you want me to see out here in the dark?” she said.
”Turn around.”