11 - Su Casa es mi Casa

Nathan paused as he was about to open the door to his house in the Copenhagen suburb of Gentofte. His father’s Audi was parked outside, and its impressive presence caused two problems to manifest themselves. Why they hadn’t bothered to appear during the lengthy journey back to Copenhagen, where he could think about how he was going to solve them, he didn’t know. 

Firstly, his father knew about his disappearance in the Caves. Doubtless relieved at Nathan’s survival, there was however sure to be a paternal investigation which would start in the next ten meters. Nathan would need a solid excuse for doing something as reckless as wandering off from the group; chasing a bat wasn’t going to cut it. Healthy doses of Danish pragmatism had been administered to Nathan daily from the moment of his birth. Putting his life in danger for no reason was not only unacceptable, it was unimaginable. He wondered if it was time to dredge up the familial situation. It had been some time since he had verbally pointed the finger of accusation at his father. Was it fair to use this as cover for his excursion? He knew what effect it would have. His father was a stand-up chap, but when it came to the dissolution of his marriage, departure of his wife, and the absconding of his daughter he was defenseless. Nathan could claim to have had an ‘incident’. His therapist had coached him well on how to deal with these, but that had been years ago so he could feign forgetfulness. But this felt like a low blow. No, he decided, he would not inflict unnecessary pain on his father just to mask his meeting a sentient alien. He would see how it went, and get creative as needed. 

Secondly, The Orb had said that everything had to be kept secret from everyone other than those he selected to join him. But surely his father would notice that something was amiss. How could Nathan be absent from the house for hours, and his father not notice? Then there was homework, and that was the yardstick by which his father measured his development. If he slipped behind, or got bad grades, his father would know that something was up. Short of The Orb producing a clone to replace him when he was in the Cavern, there was going to have to be some elastic trickery performed. He would need to figure it out with The Orb’s help, and as it applied to him, so did it also apply to anyone else who joined him. Lucky for him that his father was a workaholic, and that the Maersk fleet was going through an expansion which had his father churning out design proposals like a multifunction printer on steroids. 

He closed the front door, took off his shoes, and went to his father’s study. This was on the ground floor, opposite the magnificent, winding staircase that his mother had fallen in love with the minute she had walked into the house. Their residence had previously been the Spanish Cultural Center. The price tag had been enough to make even Johan Stromberg’s eyebrows slide up several millimeters, but apparently under the ‘happy wife, happy life’ theory he had agreed to them buying it. 

The door to his father’s study was closed, which meant he didn’t want to be disturbed. He heard muffled classical music from within, and identified a choral section from Orff’s Carmina Burana. Normally he’d have diverted to the kitchen, made himself a snack, and headed upstairs. But today he knew he couldn’t escape, so he knocked on the door.

“Nathan?” said his father’s muffled voice. 

The music stopped. Nathan opened the door halfway and peeked in. His father was standing by his drafting table. He didn’t move when Nathan stepped into the room.

“Hej fa,” Nathan deliberately switched to Danish. This was tactic number one that he and Fiona employed when they had been bad, and were trying to avoid punishment. 

“Are you ok?” his father said.

His father didn’t seem to have noticed the language flip, so Nathan tacked back to English. “I’m fine, honestly. Just feeling dumb to have caused such a fuss.” Contrition, this was his fallback plan. 

“Hmmm.” His father pushed his perspex glasses up his nose and wiggled a mechanical pencil at Nathan. “Mr. Priest called to inform me you had been found. Of course, he didn’t call to inform me that you had gone missing in the first place.”

Nathan didn’t know how to respond to that. Mr. Priest had, no doubt, been hedging his bets. Nathan suspected that his teacher had been right on the cusp of calling his father when Nathan had called in. Part of Priest’s displeasure at Nathan was probably due to relief more than actual anger; Mr. Priest and his father had a varied history. His father seemed to be expecting an answer, so Nathan fell back on a tried and tested tactic of just varying his previous reply. “Sorry dad, I didn’t mean to make so much hassle for anyone.” Then Nathan had a brainwave. “Are you hungry? I can heat up that frozen lasagne we have.” Eating lasagne twice in one day was one of the last things Nathan wanted to do, but needs must, etc.

“No, I had a sandwich earlier,” his father replied. “But you go ahead if you’re hungry.”

The subject successfully switched onto a new track via the trusty points of food, Nathan warmed up his exit. “Thanks dad, I might just have a sandwich myself. I’m going to go to my room and relax.” His father grunted, then returned to sketching the design of what looked like a mega-container ship. Nathan backed out, closed the door quietly, then stood and held his breath. He and Fiona had well learned that the emotional suction pump that was their father’s office was not so easily escaped. Their father had a habit of remembering some critical argument just after you thought that the discussion was over. The music went back on. Nathan breathed out deeply and moon walked backwards, keeping his eye on the door at all times. Then he turned and ascended what he and Fiona had jokingly called ‘the stairway to heaven’, and went down the corridor to his part of the house. 

Nathan had an entire annex apartment to himself. It was another feature of the house his mother had loved. She had said that their children would adore this, and she was right. It had its own kitchenette and bathroom, but the highlight was a floorspace large enough to incorporate a double bed and lounge setup. He had a wall-mounted TV, and a ceiling mounted projector with accompanying trigger screen and 7.1 surround system. It was a teenager’s dream, and Nathan loved it. It had been Fiona’s crib. Before she had left, she had ordered him to move in. He had declined, out of the contempt he had felt for her back then. She had persisted, and eventually extracted his promise to move in after she had left. Now he was happy she had forced him. This was his Bat Cave, his Jedi Temple, his Fortress of Solitude (the original Doc Savage version, naturally).

Today, something was new. He couldn’t identify what it was, which bugged him. In the deep, dark of night he didn’t need any light to make his way to the toilet. But now he sensed a difference, despite everything being exactly how he’d left it: the pile of dirty clothes abandoned recklessly next to a half-empty laundry bag, and the game system controllers lying c**k-a-hoop on the table next to the sofa where he and Christina had left them. Yet still…

A shaft of sunlight poked through one of the two skylights, and caught dust motes in its solar spotlight. Nathan watched them move, and realized that was the difference. The air moved slightly through the room, whereas before it had been still, unless he opened a window. He checked to see if his father had cracked open a window, but the triple-paned barriers were shut. What then was the cause of this mystery? Or was it a mystery. The Orb had said he would be able to travel from his room to its Cavern (his brain had allocated another capitalization to cope with the strain of the fantastical), but had not elaborated on how that would be possible. It had told him to wait until he was home. Well now he was home, and he could sense that a change had occurred. He started to explore his room, including parts of it he never paid attention to (like under the kitchenette sink). But after thirty minutes of opening and closing little-used cupboards, and even looking under the rug next to his bed, he gave up.

At almost the exact moment that he collapsed onto his sofa in exasperation, his phone rang. The caller ID showed ‘blocked’, which was in case anyone should see Nathan’s phone when The Orb was calling. He stabbed ‘answer’, almost pushing the phone out of his hand, and didn’t waste any time. “You’re going to tell me I’ve missed it several times, aren’t you?” He had a hint of fun in his voice. This apparently was not lost on The Orb, who Nathan assumed had all sorts of ways of discerning tone and implication from human vocal patterns.

“You were so close,” The Orb said. “Your detection of the slight alteration of the room’s air currents was the clue.”

“Wait,” Nathan looked around the room. “You saw that?”

“Yes. I have remote sensors in your room covering all angles. They transmit visual, audio, infrared, ultraviolet, and a number of other spectrums. They also send meteorological data, so I can adjust the climate if necessary.”

Nathan thought that being constantly monitored by an alien was really going to cramp his style. Although to be fair, he didn’t have any style to be cramped. He was also confused. “Why would you need to adjust the climate?” The Orb chuckled. It sounded so human that Nathan thought for a moment he had made an awful mistake, and was talking to a prankster. 

“There could be any number of emergencies,” The Orb said. “I may have to create a vacuum in the room to extinguish a fire, or reduce the temperature to avoid dehydration. I have anticipated multiple scenarios, but it is the ones I cannot anticipate which are the most important.”

“Fair enough,” said Nathan, although fire and dehydration didn’t sound optimal. “Are you going to tell me how you’ve constructed a way for me to travel hundreds of  kilometers, and made an entrance to it in my bedroom without my father noticing?”

“I am, but you should sit down. I have upgraded your basic projector to a 4D, multi-dimensional, holographic emitter, and your digital display to a retina active screen with MD clarity.”

“MD?”

“Megascopic Definition. This will allow viewing at the molecular level with definition better than most electron microscopes.”

“Oh.” Nathan sat down and, without even touching the remote, the projector’s fan kicked in and its light came on. Normally this would trigger the electric motor to wind the screen down, but instead the windows went dark and, in front of him, an image started to form. Nathan’s eyes did what evolution had trained them to do, and transmitted what they saw to his brain. In that respect he could not fault them for doing their job, and for not warning him in advance. But if his brain had possessed a mouth, it would have dropped it down to the soles of his feet. 

The image resolved into a three dimensional view of Denmark, from the island of Fanø in the west, to the shore of the Øresund in the east. But it wasn’t just above ground, the image showed underground layers: Caverns, water reservoirs, even the Metro system running around and through Copenhagen. Different colors highlighted different things: cities were in cobalt blue, whilst geological layers varied from dark brown to light grey. The definition was unlike anything Nathan had ever seen. He got up and walked over to the image. He could see individual details in such clarity that a super-digital photo would have seemed like a grainy polaroid in comparison. And the map wasn’t static. He saw metro trains running around the Copenhagen system, and at Kastrup Airport he saw planes landing and taking off, their designations floating ghost-like above to them.

“Cool!” Nathan exclaimed. He put his hand through the reproduction to satisfy himself that it wasn’t solid. The images wavered, and an SAS plane flew through his right index finger. “How does the 4D work?”

“That,” said The Orb, “can wait for another time, since I would need to educate you on basic temporal physics. But for today’s lesson, observe.”

The map rotated and zoomed to northern Jutland, and Nathan clearly saw the Cavern offset below the Mønsted Caves. But something was wrong with the scale. The Cavern was several kilometers below the surface, and there was no way Nathan had walked that far when he’d left the school group. He pointed this out.

“You are forgetting the Relocation Vortex. You can see its boundaries marked here.”

Two dotted red lines, which Nathan estimated were about two kilometers apart vertically appeared on the map. 

“You entered through the top portal,” The Orb said, “and exited instantaneously through the lower one which adjoins my Cavern.” A third dotted red line appeared near the surface. “That is the Vortex you exited from before you located the authorities.”

“Ah ha.” Nathan rubbed the hairs on his right forearm. “What if someone else goes down the same corridor I went down? Won’t they also end up in your Cavern?”

“No. I control the opening and closing of the Vortex. I have multiple sensor arrays posted all over the cave system, so I can track anyone’s movements at any time.”

“Right.” Nathan realized that The Orb had the cave system in lockdown.

“Now, look at the screen,” The Orb said.

Nathan saw a new line form from Cavern. It started winding a bizarre route eastwards. It travelled up and down, and left and right, crossing underneath the straights that separated Jutland from the islands of Fyn and Zealand, until it reached Copenhagen. Then it shot up at almost a right angle. The scale changed, and Nathan saw his street and house. The line came up underneath his house, then passed through it. Then the view changed to an architectural plan of the house, and the line crawled through what must have been the old chimney to come out…

Nathan turned around and looked at his standard-white, IKEA wardrobe. “Seriously?” he exclaimed. “Just like going to Narnia?”

“I thought you would like the connection. Such a simple, yet brilliant idea by C.S. Lewis. Who goes hunting in other people’s wardrobes? And if someone did, they would find nothing except your haphazard clothing storage system.”

“It’s not haphazard if you know where everything is,” mumbled Nathan. He slipped his phone into his back pocket, walked to the wardrobe and opened the doors. His clothes hung at improbable angles inside. Some of his shirts looked like invisible fingers were trying to tease them off their hangers. A selection of not necessarily matched shoes lived in the wardrobe’s basement. He divided the shoes in two, and herded each pile to opposite sides of the baseboard. He parted his clothes, noticing the wooden strut they were hanging on de-flex in the middle. Now he had full access to the back of the wardrobe. He stepped in to examine it.

Nathan spent a minute tapping the rear of the wardrobe, examining it for gaps or some sort of opening mechanism. He went as far as sniffing the join between the bottom of the rear panel and the base, but all he smelled was the porous solidity of Swedish self-assembly furniture. Giving up, he stepped out of the wardrobe and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Ok, I give up.”

“The entrance is keyed by voice command. It is matched to your vocal pattern. Even someone transmitting your voice via a digital source will not be able to open the door, since its locking mechanism is smart enough to know the difference.”

“How smart is the mechanism? Is it, like AI smart.”

“Smarter,” replied The Orb. “I am the opening mechanism.”

“Ok then.” Nathan stared at the back-board and waited impatiently. Nothing happened. “Errr….do I need to speak the magic word?”

“Yes,” The Orb replied. 

“So what’s the magic word?”

“That is up to you. A phrase is better to avoid ambiguity. Something you would be unlikely to say in normal conversation. It can be a sentence, but do not make it too long. Length implies complexity, and if you are in a stressful situation or need to open the door quickly it is easier to remember a short sentence.”

“Right. How about ‘make it so’?” 

“Coded. I like the Star Trek reference.”

“I thought you would.” Nathan smiled.

“Are you ready to test it?” 

Nathan nodded and pushed gently at the back panel. It was still a normal piece of composite wood. He even knocked on it to check that it sounded like wood; it did. He stepped back, just in case, and said, “Make it so.” There was a puny hiss, then the entire rear panel moved back and slid down. Nathan now saw a modest room resembling the inside of a standard elevator. White lights provided illumination, and a two fold-down seats were placed around each of the three walls. 

“Step in,” said The Orb.

He slid one foot across the boundary, transferring his weight gingerly as if his full weight might send him crashing to the bottom of a kilometers deep shaft. But the elevator’s floor was firm. He took a deep breath and stepped fully inside. Turning around, he saw a control panel on the elevator’s right hand side.  There was a blank view screen with a selection of buttons below it. The button on the left was glowing green.

“The device will not activate until you press the button,” The Orb said.

I figured that, Nathan thought. “Do I need to sit down before pressing it?”

“No. The device is installed with inertia dampers to negate the effects of rapid acceleration and deceleration. There are also numerous safety features, all designed to prevent injury. Some of the systems incorporated into this device are based on my own structure.”

This raised an important question. Are you organic, or inorganic? he thought, but realized that this was possibly the rudest thing he could ask so decided to wait for The Orb to tell him when he/she/it/they (he settled on ‘it’ until he knew better) felt like it. “Ok then, let’s take it for a spin shall we?” 

He decided not to test the functionality of the inertia dampers on his first trip, and pulled down one of the seats. Positioning himself with his back straight against the wall, he reached out and pushed the green button. The display panel lit up. The door slid back up into place, and sealed with another hiss. An icon appeared on the display which, when Nathan peered at it closely, resembled a three-dimensional representation of the elevator. He noticed it start to move. In fact it was not just moving, it was dropping. It would appear that he was in free fall. He stuck his hands out in front of him. They felt just normal. 

“Can you still hear me?” Nathan said.

“Yes. We will be in constant contact.”

“Err…how fast am I traveling?” Nathan was almost afraid of the answer.

“You are currently falling at three hundred kilometers per hour, with eight seconds until the horizontal turn. After that you will accelerate to a settled velocity of just under one thousand kilometers per hour.”

“Is that its maximum speed?” There was more calm in his voice than he felt in his bowels.

“No. The device is capable of traveling at two thousand kilometers per hour in an emergency.”

Nathan blinked. “Am I capable of traveling at two thousand kilometers per hour in an emergency?” An image of his bloody remains dripping down the opposite wall plunged into his imagination.

“Oh yes,” The Orb said, without a trace of sarcasm. “The device will compensate for all changes of velocity and direction.”

 The display showed that the elevator was now traveling horizontally. But, unlike its metro counterparts, the tunnelator (he decided this had a nice ring to it) made random, jaunty movements as it zig-zagged under the flat, Danish countryside. “Why is it changing course so much?” 

“The tunnel between the Cavern and your house avoids geological problems which could affect its integrity. Denmark is still in the process of adjusting to a glacial tilt from the last Ice Age. Certain areas might move, and that would cause problems with the device’s operation.”

“Problems?” Nathan tried to keep the concern out of his voice. “You mean the sort of problems that could end up with me squashed inside a rectangular tin can?”

“Your metaphor is hardly accurate,” said The Orb, with a hint of exasperation. “This device is constructed of quality materials, and I can confirm the accuracy of the tunnel’s path.”

Nathan felt guilty at second-guessing his new friend. “I’m sorry. I’m not a huge fan of rollercoasters.” 

“I know. It counted against you in my selection process, but not unduly.”

Nathan wondered what other things had counted against him, unduly or otherwise. Another conversation for later. Looking at the display, he saw that a bright red light had come into view at the end of the tunnelator’s virtual path. “I guess that’s your Cavern?” He pointed at the dot.

“Indeed. I must say this is a very satisfactory first run.”

“First run,” chocked Nathan. “You mean you didn’t test it before?”

“No, why?”

This was said in such a nonplus way that Nathan thought for a moment The Orb was joking. “Well, to make sure it worked.”

“Why should it not work? I designed and built it. It is correct.”

“We need to work on your people skills,” Nathan muttered, then realized that muttering was probably as good as singing it at the top of his lungs. At normal volume, he said, “Look I’m sorry. People like to know, when they’re traveling at terminal velocity, that the thing they’re traveling in has had some sort of basic quality testing done on it.”

There was a pause. The Orb said, “Yes, I understand. My apologies, but it is very different on my world. We think, plan, and construct. There are failures of course, but these are fed back into the system to improve future results. This devices has been ‘tested’, as you put it, hundreds of thousands of times.”

Nathan was about to offer a further apology when the icon representing the tunnelator slowed at a rate that would have given a driving instructor a heart attack, then merged with the red dot of the Cavern. 

“You have arrived,” The Orb said.

Nathan stood up. The chair effortlessly re-joined its compatriots flush to the wall. The door hissed at him as it moved inwards and (this time) upwards. He stepped out into the luminous, beige interior of the Cavern.

The Orb was floating only a few meters from the tunnelator’s door. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back,” he said.

“Excellent,” The Orb said. “Now, I need to borrow some money please.”