The blue compact car started up.

  Driving slowly, Adam pulled out of the building’s garage. The sun’s long rays reached between the trees and towering skyscrapers, glinting off the windshield of the 909 and catching the small image of a barking Rottweiler at the edge of the hood—the emblem of the automaker.

  Vicky’s presence in the car made Adam just as uneasy as Juzo’s had that Friday night. At least, unlike his brother, she gave clear instructions.

  “Go straight for seven blocks and take a left,” she said, leaning forward, careful of the pain from her injury.

  Adam glanced sideways at her. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about while I drive you to the hospital? I’ve got a friend who can check out that nasty wound for you.”

  “I’d rather avoid hospitals, at least for a while,” she replied.

  “Relax. Kara’s trustworthy. She’s not going to call immigration on you, if that’s what—”

  “No,” Vicky interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. She pointed ahead. “Turn after the avenue and go another thirteen blocks until we get to—”

  “Dana’s,” Adam finished for her. He knew every corner of this area and had already mapped the route in his mind. “One of the oldest malls in Proxima. Is that where we’re headed?”

  “Good. You know it.”

  “Of course I do—it’s near where I work. But what are we gonna do at a mall?”

  “We’re not going into the mall. We’re going to the alley next to it.”

  “Fine, but what the hell are we doing in an alley?”

  Vicky stayed silent, her eyes scanning the streets as if retracing a path she’d taken just minutes earlier.

  Before long, they arrived.

  This part of Proxima’s Red District was old.

  The streets were narrow, the sidewalks even more so, and the buildings barely reached ten stories—a far cry from modern standards. Dana’s architecture resembled an old three-story warehouse more than a mall. Its only distinguishing feature was the enormous, outdated sign high on its facade, lit with green neon tubes that read, ‘Welcome to Dana’s, Proxima City’s First Mall.’ In a few hours, when night fell, the sign would light up, serving as an emerald beacon for the neighborhood.

  Despite it being rush hour, Adam had no trouble finding a parking spot.

  “Don’t bring anything electronic. It might get fried,” Vicky said as she stepped out of the car.

  “I’m not the one with implants on my wrists,” he muttered.

  “They’re built to handle it,” she replied, walking away.

  Handle what? Who knew? Adam didn’t ask for details—it was too late for second thoughts. Why should he even have them? Everything had gone fine so far, hadn’t it? No accidental energy bursts in the elevator, no disasters while driving, and no electrical shorts in the car systems—nothing. Maybe Juzo’s advice about not fearing was actually paying off.

  Following Vicky’s advice, he left his phone in the glove compartment and trailed after her, curiosity piqued.

  As they walked toward the alley, Adam found himself falling behind while making way for hurried pedestrians crowding the narrow sidewalk. From this angle, he couldn’t help but notice Vicky’s legs, the curve of her hips accentuated by those denim shorts… Before he could stop himself, his gaze lingered. Somehow, she’d regained that rugged, striking beauty that had captivated him before.

  “I can give you a picture if you’d like,” she said, without even turning around.

  Adam’s face flushed, and he shook his head, embarrassed. What the hell was that hormonal outburst? It was like the carefree version of himself—the Adam who had nearly died two weeks ago—had come back, dragging with him a rebellious teenage spirit and a knack for ignoring the current mess he was in.

  Then he spotted it: a huge, sleek gray sedan weaving gracefully through traffic. Without thinking, he turned toward the wall, hoping not to be seen. He’d recognize that model anywhere—a Clarita 15.01. Trevor Homam was behind the wheel.

  Sure, they were in the neighborhood, but of all the people who could’ve been driving by right now, why Trevor?

  He waited for the sedan to disappear around the next corner before turning back to the street.

  “What was that about?” Vicky asked.

  “A friend,” Adam said. “I don’t want him to see me with you.”

  “Oh, thanks… I think?”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I like to keep my boats docked at different piers. Besides Kara, Trevor’s the only anchor to my normal life that’s still intact, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want him asking about you, and I really don’t wanna lie to him to avoid… certain topics.”

  “Fair enough,” Vicky said, disappearing into the alley between the brick walls.

  The passage was about six feet wide and stretched roughly eighty feet to a wooden fence. Piled high were cardboard boxes, plastic bags, and other trash from Dana’s stores. Judging by the dirty blankets scattered on the ground, it also served as a makeshift shelter for the homeless. Thankfully, it didn’t smell as bad as some of the city’s other alleys.

  They heard a door open. Vicky grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled him back a few steps. A guy in a green apron stepped out of a side door, carrying a trash bag. He tossed it into the dumpster and went back inside.

  Vicky and Adam continued further in.

  “I don’t get what we’re doing here,” Adam said. “You’re not about to tell me there’s some secret passage to Markabia or some nonsense like that, right?” He chuckled, but when she didn’t laugh, his nerves kicked in. “Wait… Right?”

  Vicky pulled the small rectangles from her pocket, reshaped them into cuffs, and handed them to him.

  “Here. They’re yours. Put them on.”

  “What do you want me to put these on for?”

  “Just do it, will you?”

  Adam didn’t have time to protest. He rolled up his sleeves and snapped the Auriga cuffs onto his wrists. For some reason, they felt like shackles. Grabbing his arm, Vicky showed him that, by sliding the sheet that covered the chrome surface of the left cuff, a series of coordinates and tiny holographic maps were projected onto it.

  “It’s a cuff phone turned holographic GPS. Big deal,” Adam said dismissively.

  Vicky entered a code on the light-based keyboard, pausing occasionally to make sure they were still alone.

  “You work with tech, right? This is going to blow your mind. You’ll see.” She hesitated, as if remembering something. “Oh, wait. You don’t have any heart problems, do you? High blood pressure? No heart attacks or anything like that?”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Adam’s eyes locked on hers.

  “Well, aside from the whole almost-dying-in-the-hospital thing…” he said, trying to guess what this was about.

  Vicky hesitated but continued adjusting his Auriga, pressing keys on the holographic interface.

  “You’ll be fine,” she murmured. “If you survived and you’re making those amazing Fotias, you’re good. Don’t worry.”

  “Well, now I’m really worried,” Adam muttered.

  Vicky finished with his cuffs, activated the holographic data on her own, and repeated the same sequence of inputs she had used on his.

  “Done.”

  The cuffs let out a beep, and then…

  The sensation was horrific: a chemical storm that seemed to burst through every blood vessel, a physical explosion that tore his muscles from his skeleton, sending them coursing through streams of energy only to reassemble them again, ensuring every ligament remembered the pain from the jolts they’d endured.

  It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Adam to swear he’d never forget it. He was so grateful when it finally ended that even falling three feet out of nowhere and landing face-first on the warm, damp asphalt felt like a blessing.

  The impact made him bite his lip—it bled a little, and his jaw throbbed. His head was spinning, his vision swimming with multicolored sparks, and his muscles felt numb.

  And his heart… Damn it! It had never pounded like this before. It was beating so hard he thought it might give out any second.

  “What… did you… do?” he managed to ask, trying to stand but wobbling and collapsing back to his knees.

  “Relax. You’re not going to die,” Vicky’s voice cut through, calm and steady. She didn’t even sound out of breath.

  Sure enough, his heartbeats gradually steadied.

  The ambient noise seemed to have vanished. Had the traffic outside Dana’s quieted down significantly, or was the piercing ringing in his ears drowning it out? He waited for the dizziness to fade and tried standing again.

  Vicky helped him to his feet and steadied him until he could keep his balance on his own. Unlike him, she didn’t seem fazed—or if she was, she hid it well.

  “It’ll pass soon,” she assured him. “You’ll get used to it after the second time.”

  The ringing in Adam’s ears ended with a sudden pop, like water finally draining from clogged ears. He felt something wet slide down his ear. He touched it. Blood.

  “Don’t worry, that’s normal. See?” Vicky said, tilting her head to show the blood trickling from her own ears.

  Adam was too disoriented to worry about it now. At least he felt a little better. He took a deep breath, catching the stench of urine—some drunk must have used the spot as a toilet. The suffocating humidity didn’t help either.

  It had gotten dark far too quickly, and the only light around was a silvery glow licking the ground beneath his feet. Was it the moon or a streetlamp?

  No. The brick wall of the alley had changed—it wasn’t brick anymore, but smooth concrete. He turned his head—his neck cracked painfully—and shook off the blurry haze clouding his eyes. He realized the alley had morphed into a completely different place. To his right was now a sleek wall, and to his left, a chain-link fence separating them from a network of metallic pipes faintly glowing in the dim light—a refinery or some industrial plant.

  Night had fallen in the blink of an eye—almost literally—and there was no sign of Dana’s, the parking lot, or anything else he recognized.

  He stepped forward and emerged onto a street.

  Across the sidewalk, a man in a gray jumpsuit was lowering the rolling door of a warehouse.

  Far off, about twenty or thirty blocks away, stood sophisticated buildings—tall and modern—towering over the gloomy warehouses nearby. Rising sporadically among them were thin, chimney-like spires stretching miles into the sky, vanishing into the darkness far above the city’s glow, their outlines visible only by blinking obstruction lights. What pilot in their right mind would fly near those things?

  Lower down, just above the skyscrapers and weaving between those strange poles, clusters of tiny white lights—too small to be planes—floated through the air like swarms of fireflies.

  Adam had never been here before, but he recognized the place from photos and videos. It was still fresh in his memory from the brief research he’d done a few days ago.

  This was Markabia. Of course, it would be nighttime here—they were on the other side of the ocean, in a completely different time zone.

  “This can’t be…” he stammered. “We… we teleported!”

  “Moved through a quantum passage with this,” Vicky corrected, tapping the cuffs on her wrists. “We’re in the Markabia shipyards.”

  “No… This can’t be true…”

  Vicky hesitated for a second, as if debating how to prove it to him. Then she turned toward the man in the jumpsuit, who, having closed the warehouse door, was walking along the opposite sidewalk with an unnervingly smooth stride. It wasn’t a man—it was a Cyclops.

  “Hey!” Vicky called out.

  The android swiveled on its heels in that distinctly inhuman way. Its single red eye locked onto them, and Adam couldn’t help but flinch. Even though this was a D02 model, as indicated by the rounded shape of its eye—and not an A60, which had a huge, oval, vertical eye—for Adam, the bad experience with the old automaton was still an open wound.

  “Android,” Vicky addressed it, “I need to know what city this is.”

  “This city is Markabia, capital of the Imperial Territory,” the Cyclops answered in its synthesized voice. “We are currently in Alpha Quadrant, Section 14. If you are lost and require assistance or transportation to the metropolitan center, I can notify the nearest military post and—”

  “That won’t be necessary!” she interrupted, offering a polite wave. “Thanks!”

  The android swiveled back and continued its eerily smooth gait.

  “How is this…?” Adam looked down at the cuffs on his wrists, struggling to grasp what he was wearing and what they had just done. He ran his hands through his hair, then smacked his face as if to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, letting out an incredulous laugh.

  He thought of the Binary Atavistic Project, the implants, the anti-gravity boosters—and now this.

  “How is it possible that the rest of the world doesn’t know something like this exists?” he wondered aloud.

  “Maybe because we’re not interested in letting them know,” Vicky replied. “When it comes to culture and technological advances, let’s just say you folks in Proxima are a little more…”

  “Showy?” Adam suggested.

  “Exactly! You love making sure everyone knows how much you’re achieving, while we prefer to play it quiet—even though we’re ahead of the curve. Don’t forget, the first A60-R8 Cyclops units were manufactured here, and I’d bet public service robots were too.”

  “Uh-uh, the public service models were ours,” Adam corrected. “Homam Enterprises deployed them back in 2095, in Proxima. But that’s beside the point—we’re talking about space-time transportation here! Damn, conjuring fire out of thin air! What’s more advanced than that?”

  Vicky gestured for him to lower his voice and replied, “I’m guessing you’ve heard about the Quantum Particle Reactor.”

  Adam nodded. “Your people got it up and running about fifty years ago, right? That was one of the last bits of news the rest of the world got from you before you sealed yourselves off on this island.”

  “Yes, and that was deliberate,” Vicky confirmed. “Thanks to the Reactor, the Empire discovered a previously unknown energy concentration located in quantum singular space—in other words, located in a place outside the physical plane, some kind of parallel dimension. They named this form of energy Kappa radiation, and it’s only detectable in regions of the planet where the ground is rich in heavy metals. Weird, isn’t it?

  “These areas were named Kappa Points. But the real breakthrough was discovering that when this radiation interacts with crystallized minerals, it fractures like light through a prism, altering time and space at that point. That’s where the Auriga comes into play: quantum prisms that act as keys to the Kappa Points.”

  Vicky showed her cuffs and, projecting a holographic map from them, pointed to one of the many glowing markers, each labeled with coordinates.

  “The Auriga have more than thirteen thousand Kappa Points cataloged worldwide. They tell you where the nearest one is; once you’re there, you specify another point as your destination and… boom! You’re there. Like now—halfway around the world, crouching and about to throw up your guts.

  “The discovery of Kappa radiation unlocked new energy sources and propelled our science to where it is today. But let’s just say my leaders are not known for being generous with their discoveries—not even with their own people. There are only about a hundred Auriga out there, and access is restricted to the Imperial Council’s Military authorities… and us, because we stole ours.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I think your leaders have a point in this case,” Adam replied. “Can you imagine the chaos quantum transporters would cause in the hands of thieves—or terrorists?”

  “Oh, I know. That’s why they’re worth more than the resources of an entire city on the black market. But you’d better hope your heart’s in good shape, or… let’s just say you’d want a medical team waiting on the other side, ready to revive you.”

  “Right, that’s why the bleeding ears,” Adam said.

  “Actually, the bleeding is more from irritation in the eardrum than from blood pressure,” she explained. “And that irritation comes from the quantum radiation.”

  “I see. Something like what that Tau radiation causes,” Adam added.

  Vicky snapped her fingers. “Exactly. And that brings us to the topic of our next lesson.”

  A faint whirring noise, like the turbines of an airplane but much quieter, reached their ears. Adam recognized the sound instantly. Vicky dragged him back into the shadows.

  “Don’t let them see you,” she whispered.

  Before Adam could ask, ‘Who?’ five soldiers flew overhead above the streetlights, propelled by those antigravity jetpacks—all of them wearing olive-green uniforms, just like the one Juzo had worn.

  “Daedalus-propelled Grenadiers,” Vicky pointed out. “Pre-midnight patrols.”

  Another squad of soldiers flew a few streets away, and Adam connected them to the tiny white lights he’d seen earlier, swarming over the city like fireflies near the massive chimneys. Those glimmers weren’t anything else—they were the glow of those jetpacks, those Daedalus units.

  He wanted to keep looking around, but Vicky grabbed his arm and keyed in a new set of coordinates on her Auriga.

  “We should move,” she said. “Alright, ready for our next stop?”

  Before Adam could protest—before he could shout ‘No!’ that he wasn’t ready to endure that electric whirlwind again and probably never would be—the cuffs emitted a sharp whine, and the torment began anew.

  Electricity surged through his body, his muscles screamed in agony.

  And then… nothing.