Other Worlds than These

 

Prologue:                                                      

 

            The tour group took a left at the next corridor, but Rodney, being at the back of the pack, tripped and stumbled to the right.  He looked around to see what he had tripped on and found that his shoes come untied.  He chewed his lip.  The tour group was nowhere to be seen now, and his mother wasn’t there to help him.  He supposed he could scream and cry like the child he was, but that would only make the problem worse.  Rodney had quite had his fill of embarrassment today, so he decided that the only thing to do was to try and figure out how to tie his shoes by himself.  After all, he looked thirty, so he really ought to act thirty.

 

            Everyone in Celeste had some kind of birth defect.  Some had extra fingers; some had oddly colored hair or skin—or sometimes both; some had defects that didn’t make themselves known until puberty when their gifts emerged.  Rodney’s defect was an accelerated aging process.  He was only six years old, but he looked like a man of thirty.  Linda, his mother, tried to help him adjust to the rapid aging by telepathically transferring knowledge to him while he slept, but some things could only be learned through practice; and since Linda only wore shoes that she could slide off of her webbed feet, she could not teach Rodney how to tie his shoes.  Neither could Oron, his father, teach the boy, for Oron had hooves and wore no shoes at all.

 

            ‘I should have listened when she told me to get shoes without laces,’ Rodney thought as he finished one crude bow and started on the other shoe.

 

            Rodney’s gifts emerged shortly after his second birthday.  His parents were pleased to learn that Rodney had at least one of their abilities.  Rodney’s secondary gift—the weaker of the two—was the ability to receive telepathic transmissions.  Linda was a Sender and Oron was a full telepath, so they felt confident that they could teach him to be a very competent Receiver.  However, Rodney’s primary gift was one with which his parents had no experience.  Rodney was primarily a Seeker.  He could find absolutely anyone or anything so long as he focused properly on the lost person or item.  He taught himself to be a very good Seeker without any assistance.  By the time he was three, Rodney had learned to combine his gifts so that not only could he find whoever he pleased, but he could then tap into that person’s thoughts from a great distance.  It took another year before he could hear complete thoughts instead of just bits and pieces, and an additional six months to hear more than mere whispers.

 

            His parents had no idea that Rodney could combine his gifts.  The first thing they had taught him—indeed, the first thing that any child was taught when their gifts emerged—was how to put up a mental shield to keep intruders out of his mind, and he had learned that lesson very well.  His secrets were his own.

 

            The other shoe refused to be tied, and Rodney soon became very frustrated.  Additionally, the first knot was already loosening and coming undone.  He felt like crying.

 

            “Do you need some help?”

 

            Rodney froze.  The voice came from behind him and was not familiar in the least.  It was female and friendly, but definitely not a voice he had heard before.  Turning around, he found himself accompanied by not one but two unfamiliar people.  The one who had spoken just now was indeed a woman, young, slender, and vibrant.  She had short brown hair done up in fuzzy spikes, and she wore round wire-rimmed glasses with reflective purple lenses.  Why she wore tinted glasses inside such a dark building was beyond Rodney, but he was certain there was a good reason.  The other person was a young man.  He was a full head taller than his companion, muscular and slim, and wore a black bandana-style mask that left only his ears and mouth visible.  Like his companion’s glasses, the mask served a purpose; the wearer was hiding his birth defect.  As far as Rodney could tell, the man had no discernable nose, and his mouth was a lipless slit.  Both wore long black jackets that missed brushing the floor by three, maybe four inches.

 

            Rodney gave a silent nod in response to the woman’s question and watched closely as she knelt and tied his shoes for him.  He wanted to be sure that he would be able to repeat the procedure later without assistance.

 

            “I was never much for laces, personally,” the woman commented as she tied the last knot.  “They wear out too quickly.  I prefer zippers and slip-ons.”

 

            “After all this, I may just have to switch to velcro,” Rodney said, attempting to make light of his frustration.  The woman smiled.

 

            “You must be Rodney,” she said.  “Central is practically buzzing about you.  I hear you’re quite the Tap.”

 

            Rodney frowned in confusion.  “Tap?”

 

            “Combination Seeker/Receiver,” said the masked man.  “It usually takes people years to learn how to combine their talents, let alone hone them to the degree that you have.  And yet here you are, possibly the most talented Tap in Celeste, and you’re entirely self-taught.”

 

            “Stella Rainbow,” said the woman, extending her hand towards Rodney.  “Pleased to meet you.  The gentleman behind me is Ian Mask.”

 

            “Not for much longer,” said Ian Mask.  “I think this next mission will be the one to change that.”

 

            “You said that the last time,” Stella Rainbow laughed.

 

            “Yes, but I mean it this time.  They have me observing Childe Roland this go ‘round, and I really think I could be named.”

 

            “Well, if all else fails, we’ll just have to name each other.”

 

            Rodney was puzzled.  He had heard about the Ian/Stella naming that was so popular in Central Celeste, but he wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of the custom.  “What’s this about ‘naming’?”

 

            “Since the revolution, all children have been given the same primary name with a unique character tag,” Stella Rainbow explained.  “No one’s quite sure why anymore, and many towns outside of Central have given up the practice.  But around here, all the girls are ‘Stella’ and all the boys are ‘Ian’ until they graduate from school.  Then they either choose names for themselves, or if they join the Guardians, they are named during one of their missions.”

 

            “Why haven’t you chosen names yet?”

 

            Stella Rainbow glanced back at Ian Mask.  “I may have already been named.  It’s not definite yet.  My first assignments were two little boys in the Graphic Novel Realm.  They each chose a different name for me, and I haven’t decided which one to take.  I require a second opinion.”

 

            “I’m a Gatekeeper,” said Ian Mask.  “Unlike Wanderers, we aren’t supposed to be directly involved with the characters.  Strictly security and intelligence.  But this time I’m on a cross-training mission, which means I have a chance to be named.  Otherwise, Stella Rainbow will probably name me ‘Morpheus’ and that’ll be the end of it.”

 

            “A Metamorph named ‘Morpheus’?”  Stella Rainbow considered the possibility, then dismissed it with a shrug.  “Fitting, but completely unoriginal.  I’ve always thought you’d make a wonderful ‘Erik’, or maybe a ‘Westley.’  You’d even make a good ‘Cuthbert.’”

 

            “And you make a better ‘Solace’ than you do a ‘Squirrel.’”

 

            “And now I have my second opinion.”

 

            “So, it’s official?”

 

            “Well, there’s still the paperwork.”

 

            Rodney listened to the exchange and tried to pay attention.  This was no small feat, for like most children his age, Rodney’s attention span was rather short.  And to be perfectly honest, he didn’t understand why the whole ‘naming’ thing was important, or why the outdated tradition remained in practice, and he really didn’t care.  He was quite happy with his own name and could not imagine going by any other.  Although, if he absolutely had to go by a different name, he supposed he wouldn’t mind being a...

 

            “Say, why don’t you come with us?”  Stella Rainbow’s enthusiastic question snapped Rodney back to reality.

 

            “Just as well,” Ian Mask agreed.  “Your tour group is too far ahead now to catch up, and we can’t just leave you alone.”

 

            “The halls here are like a labyrinth,” Stella Rainbow continued with a nod.  “Even the best of us get lost.”

 

            “Last week we had to send a search party out for our department head, and he’s been here for upwards of fifty years.”

 

            Rodney really hoped Ian Mask’s last statement had been meant as a joke.  Still, he wasn’t about to take any chances.  He agreed to go with his two new friends, and Stella Rainbow threw an arm around his shoulders as if they’d known each other for years.  She was so warm and friendly, and Rodney couldn’t help but feel comfortable with her arm around him.