Keystones: Altered Destinies (12 page)

“People are starting to stare at you,” she persisted.

“Mom,” intervened Deklan. “Relax. How many, after all, could he have in that carry-on bag?”

“I have a growing suspicion that they’re all that he packed.”

Brice Tobin stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his wife and son. “What did you say?”

“I said stop playing with the Twix bars.”

Brice rolled his eyes, wisely doing so in a manner that allowed only Deklan to see his pantomimed gesture of exasperation. “No dear, not you. Deklan, what did you just say?”

“Um, that there was a finite number of Twix bars you could have brought with you.”

“Yes!” Brice looked at the pile in front of him. “I brought only ten.”

Deklan looked at the stack in front of his father. “Well, Dad, I think you miscounted. There are at least twelve wrappers. Mom’s right, though. People are looking at you a little strangely. It doesn’t help that you’re not eating them. It just appears that you’re prepping yourself for an onslaught of gluttony.”

“But you don’t understand! Look!” Brice held his bag open for Deklan to inspect.

Deklan looked into his father’s bag, glanced at the pile of Twix bars in front of his father, and then reached into the bag to counting its contents. “There are still ten bars in here, Dad.”

Both men meditated on this in silence for a moment.

“Are you sure that you brought ten and not twenty-two?” asked Deklan.

Brice grunted with disgust. “What sort of question is that? Ten or eleven, I could see the slip-up, but do you think that I could accidentally have brought double that number without knowing it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re not pulling my leg. Why don’t you take another one out and see whether you can replicate the trick?”

Brice drew out another Twix bar and pumped it into the air. “Success!” he exclaimed.

Deklan reached into the bag and counted again. “Nine.”

“What?”

“I said there are now only nine bars in here.”

“Give me that,” said Brice, grabbing his bag and counting. “Crap.”

Deklan turned away from his parents and sighed. He loved them. The only problem was that they were both a touch insane. He’d been told that the condition was chronic in all people with children. He looked at Susan who was a seat down from him. “Please tell me you’d like to get a coffee before the flight.”

“Can it be alcoholic?”

“Let’s go find out. Mom, Dad, we’ll be back.”

“Don’t leave me with him. People are staring.” Tricia sounded desperate.

“Glare back,” replied her son. “My childhood memories assure me that it’s a strong point of yours.”

Deklan and Susan sat with two cups of coffee, which they hadn’t managed to make Irish.

“You know,” said Susan. “It’s funny. I’m following you halfway around the world and abandoning my life based on a crazy line of reasoning. We haven’t even spoken all that much since you entered my life bleeding and poisoned. What do you do? Who is Deklan Tobin?”

Deklan laughed. “I was, and guess I still am, a stuntman.”

Susan cocked her head. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Deklan laughed again. “Let’s be honest. No one expects that answer.”

“How do I know that you’re not just making up an interesting story?”

“Fair question. Hold on a second.” Deklan tapped the bar between them, activating a dormant smart screen, and routed it to his Uplink. Seconds later the smart screen displayed a holographic replay of his stunt reel.

“Wow,” said Susan. “So you pander to the small subset of moviegoers who care that their special effects are real?”

Deklan ignored the teasing intonation in Susan’s voice. “Best job ever, and it doesn’t have set hours.”

“So you’re not walking away from as much as I am then.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“The movies are a feast-or-famine work experience, and I was in a temporary famine period. Nothing to be worried about, just part of the business, but you’re not considering the other aspect of this situation.”

“Which is?”

Deklan sipped his coffee. “You and I met because my cat ripped my apartment’s front door off its hinges and attacked Paige’s Great Dane.”

Susan motioned for Deklan to continue with his point.

“I haven’t been home since. I’m wearing clothes that I bought en route to my parents. I left everything else behind in an unlocked apartment. I’ll be lucky if the place hasn’t already been stripped clean.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Which part?”

“Well, all of it, but I’m still having trouble with the idea of your cat’s ripping a door off its hinges.”

“Yeah, that surprised me too. You know the first thing she did when I pulled her off Paige’s dog?”

“What?”

Deklan pointed at his bandages. “She took a swipe at me. You can see it here on my forearm. I fed that animal for years, yet the instant she could hurt me she didn’t hesitate. I could be wrong about how bad things are going to get, but I don’t think so.”

“I believe in your reasoning. I just wish I didn’t.”

Just then a boarding announcement came over the airport’s PA system.

“We need to go now,” said Deklan. “That’s our flight, and my mother will be panicking.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He waited for Susan to get down from her barstool. “She’s probably worried that I’ve been mugged in here.”

“And she let you become a stuntman?”

“‘Let’? No. I lied for two years and told them I was working as a personal trainer. They both thought that it was a terrible waste of my law degree.”

“But they do know now, right?” asked Susan.

Deklan nodded. “Mom hates it. Dad thinks it’s awesome.”

Boa Vista

Deklan smiled as he heard the captain’s announcement: “We’re on our final approach to Boa Vista International Airport. If this is your first time visiting Boa Vista, we hope that you have a great time, and for all of you locals welcome home.”

“Well, that was easy,” Deklan said to Susan. “Now just a quick hop up the Elevator and, well, then we watch Rome burn.” He frowned, his levity withering away. “I guess that part’s going to be a little harder.”

Susan nodded and ran her tongue over her lips. “I feel guilty.”

“For not telling people?” Deklan asked, trying to draw her out.

She looked away, and he struggled to hear her answer. “Yes.”

“Whom would you have liked to contact?”

“Some friends.”

“Would they have listened?”

“Probably not.”

He touched her shoulder. “So you’re feeling guilty over a change that you couldn’t have made?”

“Yes.” She looked at him, her face expressing distress. “But I should have given them the chance not to believe me.”

Deklan reached over and tapped Susan’s Uplink. “Then tell them.”

“What?”

“Go ahead and call them. Explain what you’ve done and why, and let them make their own arrangements.”

Susan held her Uplink in both hands, a list of contacts already called up. “What if they think I’m crazy?”

“You can’t have it both ways. If you’re going to feel guilty about not calling them, you should call. You and I both know that there’s a chance that this isn’t going to pan out the way I’ve predicted. In that case we’ll both go back to our normal lives back home.”

The captain’s voice came over the intercom again. “Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that, due to an irregularity, there will be no ground crew. We’re going to have to use the emergency slides to disembark from the plane.”

Deklan turned to Susan. “Still think I might be wrong?” he asked.

“No, but don’t think that means I’m happy about it.”

“Are you going to send a message to any friends or family?”

“Yes, I think so. I prepared one on my Uplink while we were en route.”

Deklan looked at her confused. “When? Where? We were sitting next to each other the entire time.”

Susan looked a little furtive in answering, “I put the video together in the bathroom.”

“Well, at least you didn’t panic the other passengers, though I think the captain may have succeeded at that,” he said, referring to a growing swell of murmurs in the airplane.

“Deklan, your father and I are not happy about this,” Tricia declared from a few rows away.

“So what do you expect me to do about it?”

Tricia’s tone was snippy. “Fix it. This is the worst vacation that I’ve ever been on! Brice, tell him that this was a bad idea.”

“What? Oh, yes, a terrible idea. Do they sell Twix bars down here?”

Tricia Tobin aimed her eyes skyward. “Thank you, Brice. That was very helpful.”

“Do they always bicker like this?” asked Susan.

“Only on good days,” Deklan replied. “Mom, have both of you got all of your bags?”

“Yes, of course we have. We’re your parents, not infants.”

Deklan realized that his mother was using irritation to cover her fear. This made her less annoying, but not by much. “Okay, good,” he said, “because it looks as though the line ahead of us is moving and we’re going to reach the slides soon.”

Nearing the front of the queue, Deklan remembered his parents’ checked luggage. He hadn’t brought anything more than could fit in a small carry-on, but his parents had packed several bags for the trip. Soon the contents of those suitcases were going to represent the sum total of all their possessions. “You guys go on ahead,” he said. “I’m going to find the captain.”

“Why?” asked Susan.

“With no ground crew there will be no luggage. I’m going to see whether I can get the cargo hold opened, and I’m guessing you have to do that from the cockpit.”

Deklan made his way to the cockpit, where he found a pair of pale-faced pilots. “Hello, gentlemen.”

“You can’t be in here,” replied the primary pilot in a hollow voice.

“Isn’t that regulation only for when we’re in the air?”

“Don’t argue with me.”

Deklan held up his hands in as non-threatening a manner as he could manage. “Look, I just want you to open the cargo hold.”

“Why?”

“I want my luggage.”

“We’re not supposed to do that without instructions from the ground team.”

“What’s your name?” asked Deklan.

“Thomas Alverone.”

Deklan’s fingers danced over the screen of his Uplink. “Thanks, Thomas. Now you have two options. Either you open that cargo hold, or I’m going to distribute your name to the more than eight hundred passengers who will be upset that they can’t get their luggage. I don’t know what your corporate policies are, but that many complaint letters against a single pilot seems as though it would look bad. The choice is yours.”

“You’re a bastard,” said Alverone.

“Open that cargo hold.”

“What did you do?” asked Susan upon Deklan’s return.

“Threatened the pilots.”

“Sorry, what?”

“The pilots, I threatened them.”

“Why?”

“They weren’t going to open the cargo hold.”

“Why not?”

Deklan watched as several passengers shot down the emergency slide to the ground. “This landing was non-standard. I’d guess that their reason for being obstructive was somehow wrapped up in that.”

“I haven’t known you long, but I’m under the distinct impression that you can be a tremendous irritant.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Under these circumstances? Yes, it was.”

“Thanks. Now let’s go. I think that I spotted my mother’s suitcase.”

“Remind me again. Where are we going? It had that stupid name. What was it?”

“The Imperial Grand Hotel.”

Susan used her Uplink to call up information on the Imperial Grand. “Right, and why aren’t we just heading up the Elevator tonight?”

“We’re booked on the earliest trip that was available, and it’s not scheduled for tonight.”

Doldrums

Sebastian labored through the air. He’d thought about finding a cargo plane but hadn’t known where to begin. That left him pursuing the second option, flying the forty-eight hundred kilometers to Boa Vista.

He’d read about the albatross, an extinct bird that had been known to travel thousands of kilometers in an effort to feed its young. It was famous for having a wingspan of just over three and a half meters. Sebastian figured that with his ten-meter wingspan he should be able to rival the albatross in terms of flight distance.

That theory had served him well at first. Flying around New York, he’d expended little effort on energy conservation and a lot on learning how to fly between buildings with agility and taking off from a standing start. Now he was alone in the air save for his new Uplink and its GPS capability. He’d begun to get a sense for finding thermals and air currents, which allowed him to gain altitude for freer movement.

Once Sebastian neared the equator, the air was stiller, and he was forced to make greater use of thermals to rise and stay aloft. It was much slower going. Muscles throughout his body burned on this extended trip. It was the most exhausting thing he’d ever done and the most impressive.

Not yet confident enough in his abilities to travel over the ocean, he’d last landed in Texas to buy food, drinks, and an Uplink in the form of sunglasses. He’d made a stir there, not just for his appearance but also for his minor celebrity. Locals there had seen footage of his exploits in New York.

At first he’d tried to get people to call him Sebastian, but everyone he’d spoken to addressed him as Michael. He’d been given his own table at a steakhouse and served an enormous porterhouse. He hadn’t told them that he’d only chosen the restaurant because it had high ceilings, a legacy from its previous existence as a train station.

A bevy of giggling waitresses sat down with him, snapping photos. Half of them had insisted that he join one social network or another so that they could list him as a friend. A daring two asked for his contact number. Unused to such attention from the opposite gender, Sebastian had said yes and focused on not blushing. The entire place had filled up with people vying for tables near him. It was all very embarrassing.

That had all been hours ago. After his dinner he’d walked out of the steakhouse and launched into the sky. After invigoration by the food and rest, taking off had been easier. Ignoring what he’d learned about thermals and energy conservation, he had pulled himself higher through sheer force of will.