Avalon

Jeth blinked his confusion.

Milton stood up, walked over to the gaming table, and opened a drawing program. He drew something on the screen and then switched on the overhead viewer, displaying the image for Jeth and Sierra to see.

“Think of it this way,” said Milton. “The planet is like an underground tunnel with an entrance above ground.” He pointed to the area on the crude diagram he’d drawn. “The ground itself is the barrier between our four-dimensional space and metaspace. Everything above the ground we can perceive, everything below the ground we cannot. Yet we can still travel through the tunnel, through metaspace. Your parents found a part of Empyria that exists above ground.”

“Yes, they did,” Sierra said as Milton sat down again. “The ITA scientists long suspected the planet might be located somewhere in the Belgrave. They believe Empyria is the cause of the energy field as well as the strange occurrences within the quadrant.”

“You mean this invisible planet is what put those holes in Avalon and the Donerail?” asked Jeth, glancing at the holes in his favorite armchair, now sitting pushed against the far wall.

Sierra bit her lip. “Yes, the planet’s disruption caused most of it. That disruption has been getting worse for years. The Aether Project scientists believe there’s a connection between the Pyrean sickness and the Belgrave disturbance.”

Jeth suddenly remembered how Lizzie had to keep recalibrating Avalon’s nav when they were searching for the Donerail. Almost as if there’s some kind of massive gravity field out there that keeps pulling us toward it, she had said. A gravity field like the kind created by a planet, he realized.

“So, my parents found Empyria,” Jeth said, accepting the fact at last.

“They certainly did,” Sierra said, a note of awe in her voice.

He wondered if finding it had made his mother happy. Only the dream come true seemed to have turned into a nightmare.

“But when they returned,” Sierra continued, “they refused to tell the ITA where it was located, and they destroyed all of the ship’s records about the discovery, making it impossible for the ITA to retrace their steps. That’s where the treason charge comes into play.”

“Yes, but they didn’t execute them, right?” Jeth said.

Sierra folded her arms. “No. Your father, to my understanding, died during the arrest, an accidental shooting. And your mother, well—”

“They turned into a lab specimen,” Milton said, his expression darkening.

Jeth stared at him, torn between disbelief and cold fury. His father murdered and his mother’s death faked. And all for what? Because they’d destroyed a couple of records? He didn’t understand why his parents had done it, but they must’ve had a reason. They were idealists, sure, but not stupid or reckless. Especially not his mother. What had happened to her out there?

“Tell me about this biological change,” Jeth said.

Sierra shifted her weight from one foot to the other before answering. “Their DNA now resembles something like the Pyreans themselves. But the main measurable difference is increased cognitive abilities. The change seems to have activated a dormant region in their brains. Moreso in Cora than in your mother, but definitely true of both.”

Jeth let out the breath he’d been holding. Increased brain power didn’t seem so bad. He’d been expecting something far more drastic and scary. “So, she’s a lot smarter than she used to be. What does that matter to the ITA?”

“It matters,” said Sierra, “because Marian and Cora are now able to perceive metaspace—and manipulate it. Both of them can move objects through it in the same way the Pyreans move spaceships across the galaxy.”

Jeth’s eyes widened. “My mother can move objects through metaspace?”

“Yes. We call it phasing for lack of a better term.”

“Right,” Jeth said, deadpan.

Milton leaned forward. “It’s true. I’ve seen it.” He motioned at Sierra, his expression unaccountably stricken. “Show him file . . . file ten-dash-thirty.”

She turned toward the gaming table and accessed the data cell. A 3D image appeared on the screen, depicting a large white room, austere and sterile looking, like a hospital. On one side of the room sat an empty table. On the other was a chair with a woman sitting in it, her arms, torso, and legs strapped down.

Not just any woman, though. Mom. Jeth’s heart throbbed in his chest, and his mouth went dry as tears burned his eyes. He glanced at the timestamp on the bottom right hand side of the screen and saw this video was taken less than a year ago. She’s alive.

But she was changed. Her face was still the young, vibrant one he’d seen in her video journal, but her hair was completely white, as if it had been dyed to match the room.

On the floor in front of her stood a table the same size and shape as the one on the other side of the room. On top of the nearest table sat a red rubber ball, like the kind schoolkids play with at recess.

A man stepped into view on the screen. He wore a white lab coat and was holding an electronic tablet in one hand.

“That’s Dr. Albright,” Sierra said, pointing at the man.

Albright gave Jeth’s mother a cold stare. “Please phase the ball to the other table.”

Marian shook her head. Jeth squinted at the screen, his eyes drawn to something attached to the back of his mother’s head. With a terrible sinking feeling, he realized it was some kind of brain implant with white, spindly tentacles, nearly invisible against her hair.