When I was little my best friend Ruth had a trampoline in her backyard. We took turns to see how high we could bounce. I always won. Because I was heavier, Ruth said. I couldn’t argue. I was a chubby girl. One day, I made it so high I could see over the neighbor’s wooden fence. It was the last of three bounces, each higher than the last. At the top, I relaxed, it felt so perfect. I stretched out—in the air!—like I was lying on a cloud. The old man next door looked up from his hammock, where he sipped a soda with a cat sleeping on his chest. I must have been quite a sight, the flying girl. Our eyes met. He smiled and lifted a hand to his head, like he was saluting an astronaut about to break from orbit. Then I leaned my head back and I saw the last leaf of the season on Ruth’s sycamore tree. It brushed my face. I reached out. It was dry and brown. I plucked it from the branch. Things had slowed to a stop. I was floating. And then gravity found me again. I wasn’t ready. I wanted so much to stay up there.

That’s how I felt the moment August closed Door Number One.

When he dragged me off stage, I was terrified to feel his cool, dry hands on me. His grip so much stronger than I would have guessed. But then I heard the door click shut, and we found ourselves in darkness with no up nor down. I no longer felt August’s hands on me. I was flying. In the dark. All fear was gone.

It went on for what felt like blissful hours. I heard a peaceful rush, like that of wind in the desert. All about me was the odor of mimosa blossoms.

Then, at some point, I stopped flying and started falling.

I wasn’t ready.

When I “landed,” I didn’t stumble. My knees weren’t even bent.

I guess I didn’t so much fall into this new place, this new world, as I materialized.

And not alone.

August still held me, his hands gripped my biceps, up near the shoulders. His face so close to mine I could see his pupils dilating, now that we had emerged from that timeless void which had been barren of anything, even light. We had arrived where everything was green. August’s complexion looked like that of the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. I tilted my head to look up. Directly above us a circular panel glowed green. As I l brought my gaze back down, I watched August’s expression shift from neutral to predatory. I didn’t care for the smile crossing his lips, or the coldness coming down over his eyes. I sensed something in his mind. A dull and growing hunger. Then it vanished, as did his smile. He was looking at something over my shoulder.

I turned.

We were in a transparent tube. Roomy enough for a person, but cramped with two. We stood on a glass disk that glowed like the ceiling. The front of the tube was open, and it faced into a massive cylindrical room. Above and below us there were dozens of mezzanines running along the curved wall, each lined with tubes like the one in which August and I stood. The entire space was softly lit by green globes interspaced along the railings of each level.

Two men stood looking at us with curiosity. They wore white jumpsuits. Their heads were shaved, they had no eyebrows, and their skin was gray like modeling clay, but that might have been because of the weird lighting. They were interchangeable, like twins.

August removed his hands from where they held me.

“Two through one portal?” said the man on the right. “Bad form.”

“That might explain why they’re here so late,” said the one on the left. “But not why they arrived as human.” He turned around to look at the green globe nearest him. “This tau field dampener is working fine.” His eyes scanned the huge space. “It appears they all are.” He returned his attention to us and made an unpleasant face. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The two of them moved back, allowing August to step from the tube. I got out as well and stood a few feet from August.

Two heavy rubberized wheelbarrows were parked nearby, matching the men’s white jumpsuits.

The gray man to the right held a slim black box with a lighted display. He lifted it up in front of August and read aloud from the screen. “August Mathers, 5813213768.” He shrugged. “But, really, he shouldn’t be up on his hind legs, with hands and a nose and the rest.” The gray man turned the machine on me. He looked perplexed at the screen. “We’ve no record of this one.” 

The man beside him reached over to toggle a switch on the box the other was holding.

“Well, there’s the problem,” he said. “The female’s not a REINCOR.”

“Bad form,” said the other. “Sending us a civilian. That still doesn’t explain…”

“Wait,” the other said. “I have theory.” He reached into his pocket and removed a stubby baton, made from the same material as that slim black box. He pointed it at me.

I didn’t care for that, and I stepped back into the relative safety of the glass tube.

He pushed a button on the baton. The tip pulsed with a red light.

“Well, that explains it,” he said to his companion. “She’s a Reader.”

“Interesting. But could that truly override a Level 4 tau field dampener?”

“It could,” said the gray man on the right, holding the baton close to his face to read a dial on the side, “if the Reader possessed a Fitzroy measurement of over 1200.”

“I didn’t know such things were possible,” said the one on the left.

“Hello,” I said, working on my best and warmest smile. “My name is Rose.”

“A 1200 here in the facility could cause all sorts of havoc,” said the one on the left. Both were ignoring me. That’s when I felt August’s hunger return. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. His body tensed slightly. If he attacked these two men, should I take their side, or make a run for it?

I had questions about this place. Important questions. And those two men should have some answers.

Suddenly the light panel above me in the tube began strobing. Sparks flew up from my feet. I admit I screamed.

“The fools are sending more through,” said the one with the baton. “It’s much too soon.”

“And with this one standing inside,” said the other. “I wonder what might happen. Perhaps it will cook her.”

“What?” I yelled and jumped out.

The tube immediately went dark.

The gray man to the right checked the black box in his hand.

“More arrivals from Sector 210. Thankfully they were automatically shunted over to an arrival pod up on tier 27.”

“They?” the other asked. “Did I hear you right?”

“You did. Those idiots did it again. Sent two through a single portal.”

At that moment, a bright flash of light almost blinded me. August flinched, but the gray men just turned and looked at the glass tube beside the one we’d arrived in. It now glowed green, and inside were Helen and Darlene, clutching each other and looking quite confused.

“This is unacceptable,” said the gray man to the left. “Two, yet again, in a single pod. Let me guess. Sector 210?”

“The very same,” the other said. “Serpientes y Escaleras. And if this sort of irresponsible abuse of the portal system hasn’t resulted in a profound decoherence event for those provincial imbeciles, it’s just pure dumb luck.”

The tube holding Helen and Darlene, and the one beside it that we had come in, both began strobing with a dull olive light. An awful grating metallic noise came from them. And then silence. Thin wisps of black smoke rose from vents at the base of both.

“Well there you have it,” said the gray man on the right. “We’ve lost Sector 210.”

I couldn’t figure out what they were talking about. Decoherence event?

“What is happening?” Helen croaked.

“And look at them,” said the gray man on the left. “Again, in the wrong form. Such a breach of protocol.”

“It’s the Reader, remember?” added the one on the right.

“I do, indeed,” said the other.

Helen and Darlene carefully stepped out. They looked around them in awe.

“It’s not so bad,” Helen whispered.

Darlene lifted her hands, clutching her chest.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she said to the gray men. Then she noticed me and brightened up. ”Rose here knows. I got Door Number One.” She looked around, trying to figure out who was in charge. “Do I just go upstairs?”

“I don’t care for this at all,” one of the gray men said. “REINORs talking to us. Strolling about.”

“Not in our job descriptions at all,” the other said in full agreement.

“I can vouch for Darlene,” Helen added. “She won. She supposed to be in, well, the other place.”

The gray men ignored Helen and Darlene. I was trying to figure out what my role was all this. The gray men knew me to be a Reader. Did that give me any clout? Maybe I could explain everything. And then they could help me.

“I’m with the show,” I said. “Serpientes y Escaleras. One of the Associate Producers.”

The gray men ignored me. The one on the right scanned the women with his box. “Helen Linden 3498344721,” he said, “and Darlene Mozersky 7232953105.”

“Well, now,” Helen explained, holding up her hand. “I still go by my married name, even after the divorce.” Then she smiled. “Look at me! I’m remembering things!”

Darlene clapped her hands together and beamed at Helen.

“That’s wonderful, dear!”

The grey man on the left made an adjustment to his baton.

“Let’s begin by imposing a Level 7 dampening field around these two,” he said.

“It might save us some trouble to just shut down this Reader,” the other gray man said, pointing at me.

“Me?” I asked, wondering if it wasn’t too late for me to make a run for it. “Do what to me?”

But they continued to ignore me. Well, at least my words.

“You’ll recall that we have no authority over non-REINCORs.”

“You’re quite correct,” the other admitted. “Very irksome at times, this following of rules.” The gray man with the baton pointed the device at Helen and Darlene. He pushed a button and a cone of vibrant green light shot out and hit them both. They didn’t even have time to scream. They collapsed into two gelatinous squid-like things, floundering on the floor. Instead of arms and legs, they now had short tentacles that twitched a bit like the tails of irritated cats. Their pale bulbous bodies, no bigger than sofa cushions, glistened with a moist sheen. Each had two huge and lidless eyes.

What were they?

August reeled back, grabbing the edges of the opening to our tube. He looked down at the women—or what had once been women—with revulsion.

The gray man on the right scooped up the creatures and placed them both into one of the rugged wheelbarrows. He then picked up the women’s clothing and stuffed them into a small opening in the wall labeled Waste. I saw a look of satisfaction on the gray men’s faces. One of them grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow and began rolling away the writhing things which had once been Helen and Darlene. He spoke over his shoulder, giving instructions to his companion.

“I’ll take care of the two arrivals up on tier 47. And after you deal with this one, head to the Control Room and increase the dampeners. All the way to Level 10 just to be safe.”

I watched as he rolled Helen and Darlene around a corner.

When the remaining gray man said, “You might want to stand aside,” it took me a moment to realize he was speaking to me.

“I don’t think this will harm you,” he continued, holding up his baton. “You being a non-REINCOR and all, but best play it safe.”

He aimed the device at August. I stepped away, happy to see that things were going in a favorable direction.

But I had forgotten how quickly August could move. He leaned forward, grasped the second wheelbarrow positioned beside the gray man, and swung it hard. It caught the man before he could fire. He dropped his baton, and fell back, slamming his head against the metal railing. He slumped to the floor. I watched in horror as a surge of electrical sparks sputtered from a small crack in his skull behind his ear. A thick green jelly, like the pulp from a cactus, began pooling on the floor.

The satisfied smile spreading across August’s face did not have time to fully blossom.

The gray man, after a slight tremor ran through him, stood back up. He smoothed out his white jumpsuit and wet his lips with his tongue.

“Goodness,” he said. “That was quite unexpected.”

I was impressed by his composure. A composure he maintained even when August picked him up and threw him over the railing.

I leaned over and watched him fall in that eerie green half-light, down past dozens of levels of glass tubes until he splashed into what I thought must be water at least two hundred feet below.

I turned to August. I could feel a giddy rush of excitement coming from him.

He didn’t need to be able to peer into my mind to read the word at the top of my thoughts. Murderer. He could see it in my eyes.

“What?” he asked, with a smile. “They’re not humans. Some sort of machines.”

“I guess they are not human. But what about you?” I asked, thinking of Helen and Darlene. Had they been turned into those things, or had they been allowed to revert back to, well, whatever a REINCOR might be?

“Well, I’m not one of them,” August said, pointing down to the pool below. He bent to pick up the baton and looked at me. “Don’t want you getting any ideas.”

He tossed the device over the edge.