The Traveler

Michael sat for a moment and studied Nash’s bland smile. “None of this makes sense. The government says it wants to protect us, but it’s doing something that makes us more vulnerable.”

General Nash looked as if his favorite nephew had just made an innocent mistake. “Yes, it’s unfortunate. But you have to weigh the loss of a few lives against the power given to us by this new technology. This is the future, Michael. No one can stop it. In a few years, it won’t just be passports. Everyone will carry a Protective Link device that tracks them all the time.”

* * *

IT WAS DURING one of these weekly conversations that Nash mentioned what had happened to Gabriel. Apparently, Michael’s brother had been captured by a fanatical woman who worked for a terrorist group called the Harlequins. She had killed several people before they fled from Los Angeles.

“My staff is going to keep looking,” Nash said. “We don’t want anyone to harm your brother.”

“Let me know when you find him.”

“Of course.” Nash smeared some cream cheese and caviar onto a cracker and squeezed on a drop of lemon juice. “The reason I’m mentioning this is because the Harlequins might be training Gabriel to become a Traveler. If you both have the ability, there’s a possibility that you could meet in another realm. You’ll need to ask him the location of his physical body. Once we know that, we can rescue him.”

“Forget it,” Michael said. “Gabe would only go to another realm if he could ride there on a motorcycle. Maybe the Harlequins will realize that and let him go.”

***

ON THE MORNING of the experiment, Michael woke up early and took a shower, wearing a swimming cap so that the silver plates on the top of his skull wouldn’t get wet. He pulled on a T-shirt, drawstring pants, and rubber flip-flops. No breakfast this morning. Dr. Richardson didn’t think it was a good idea. Michael was sitting on the couch, listening to music, when Lawrence knocked softly on the door and entered the room. “The research team is ready,” he said. “It’s time.”

“And what if I decide not to do it?”

Lawrence looked startled. “That’s your choice, Michael. Obviously the Brethren wouldn’t be pleased by this decision. I’d have to call General Nash and-”

“Relax. I haven’t changed my mind.”

He pulled a knit wool cap over his shaved head and followed Lawrence out into the hallway. Two security men were there wearing their usual black neckties and navy blue blazers. They formed a sort of honor guard-one man in front, the other behind. The little group passed through a locked door to the courtyard.

Michael was surprised to see that everyone involved in the Crossover Project-secretaries, chemists, and computer programmers-had come out to watch him enter the Tomb. Although most of the staff didn’t understand the true nature of the Crossover Project, they had been told that it would help protect America from its enemies and that Michael was an important part of the plan.

He nodded slightly, like an athlete acknowledging the crowd, and sauntered across the courtyard to the Tomb. All these buildings had been constructed and all these people had been assembled for this moment. Bet it cost a lot of money, he thought. Bet it cost millions. Michael had always felt that he was special, destined for greatness, and now he was being treated like a movie star in a high-budget film that had only one role, a single face on the screen. If he really could travel to another realm, then they should give him their respect. It wasn’t luck that he was here. It was his birthright.

***

A STEEL DOOR slid open and they entered a vast, shadowy room. A glass-enclosed gallery, about twenty feet above the smooth concrete floor, ran around all four walls. Light from control panels and computer monitors glowed inside the gallery and Michael saw that several technicians were looking down at him. The air was cold and dry and he could hear a faint humming sound.

A steel surgical table with a small pillow for his head was in the middle of the room. Dr. Richardson stood near the table. The nurse and Dr. Lau were checking the monitoring equipment and the contents of a steel rack that held test tubes filled with different colored liquids. Eight wires connected to silver-colored electrode plates lay beside the little white pillow. The separate wires were spliced together into a thick black cable that slithered off the table and disappeared into the floor.

“You okay?” Lawrence asked.

“So far.”

Lawrence lightly touched Michael’s arm and remained near the door with the two security men. They were acting like he was going to run out of the building, jump over the wall, and hide in the forest. Michael walked to the center of the Tomb, pulled off his knit cap, and handed it to the nurse. Wearing only a T-shirt and the drawstring pants, he lay faceup on the table. The room was cold, but he felt ready for anything, like an athlete about to play an important game.