Veil of Time: Book Four, the Wizards Series

Jack Knapp

Veil of Time

by Jack L Knapp

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Veil of Time

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Veil of Time

A Paranormal Thriller

Book Four, The Wizards Series

By Jack L Knapp

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Prologue

The Wizards series is adventure, but it also examines how psionic abilities affect individuals and society. Veil of Time, the fourth book in the Series, follows Combat Wizard, Wizard at Work, and Talent.

"T", code named 'Combat Wizard' by the agency that employed him, is a graduate of an otherwise-unnamed School begun by a three-letter agency of the US Government.

The School hoped to turn out telepathic communicators, but T is something of a failure; he has a number of weak abilities, including telepathy, but comparatively strong psychokinetics. The School’s officials wonder what to do with him, finally sending him to Afghanistan to see whether his PK ability could be useful in combat. During pre-deployment training, T discovers a personal protective field he names the ‘bubble’. It seems to consist of one or two layers of air with a high electrical charge that he can form at will. It saves his life on several occasions. T, as a result of his combat experiences, has developed PTSD. One of the things he saw was the death of a young girl, killed by Taliban machine gun bullets. This created a desire to keep children, particularly girls, from harm.

A fellow graduate, "Surfer", finds a ‘wild talent’ telepathically, an Army nurse that he assigns the code name of "Scheherazade", which T soon shortens to 'Shezzie'. He meets her in person after finding his life threatened by officials of the now-canceled School, which adds paranoia to his already-present survivor's guilt; Surfer reveals the presence of an explosive charge nestled against the cervical spine, a 'fail-safe' control that agents of the School have already used to murder most of the graduates. He and T understand that officials of the former School will stop at nothing to remove the final two.

T leaves Afghanistan to escape the threat, accompanied by Shezzie.

They meet a retired sergeant, Ray, in El Paso, and accidentally awaken his latent abilities by merging minds. This second experience causes them to realize that Psi abilities can be awakened by contact, including proximity to someone with an awakened Talent, T's term for psychic abilities.

T’s developing abilities include a form of dowsing which enables him to locate Doc Noss' lost treasure in New Mexico. He can’t explain the money they receive from sale of what they suspect is part of Emperor Maximilian's rumored hoard, and police decide it must have come from dealing drugs. Surfer panics when he discovers the former head of the School sight-seeing the UTEP campus, where Surfer has been attending classes. He finds a Mexican doctor and convinces him to remove the explosive charge, but the operation triggers the explosive and Surfer dies.

Pressure from officialdom causes the group, now three in number, to resettle in Nevada, hoping to escape further notice. They use the treasure proceeds to buy an old ranch, one with an abandoned mine. T reasons that they may explain the gold by implying it came from a previously-unknown deposit in the mine.

T, Ray, and Shezzie awaken psi abilities in several handicapped veterans of WWII. Shorty, partially crippled from a wound suffered in Europe during the waning days of WWII, is one. T also helps two other aged veterans by awakening their ability to levitate. Due to age or some other factor, they gain some, but not all, of T's paranormal abilities. Subsequently, and again by accident, a police officer and a number of criminals develop psi talents through proximity.

The Talent, no longer controlled, is spreading.

Shorty has a teenaged granddaughter, Libby, a pyrokinetic who is enjoying her newest ability, telepathy. This brings us to Veil of Time.

Chapter One

Ray's faraway look faded as Libby dropped the telepathic connection.

"Chatty little thing, isn’t she?" he said.

"Could be worse," T replied. "She could be constantly texting people!"

"Yeah, except she’s comming with you or me almost as often as other teens send texts! Shorty too, now that he’s figured out how to use telepathy."

"I get the idea it’s you or me mostly, Ray. Shezzy hasn’t mentioned it, and Shorty’s still not that good at mind-to-mind."

"Yeah, she comms him to make sure he’s doing all right, but mostly when she feels the need to chat it’s with us. Doesn’t sound like she’s comfortable being around her friends at school. She might be afraid she’ll let something slip! We might have created a monster!" The two friends grinned at each other. They’d been companionably leaning on the corral fence, enjoying the morning sunshine. It would get hotter later, much hotter, as full summer arrived in central-western Nevada.

"She hasn’t been the same since Shezzie melded minds with her," T observed.

"She grew up quick, T. She likely found out during the meld what we already knew, that she’d burned that guy using pyrokinetics. I guess knowing you killed a man, even a kidnapper—she’s got good reason to be afraid she’ll let something slip."

"That might be it," T mused, "but it could also be that she’s afraid of what she might do. Her subconscious protected her; she was afraid, it happened, and it could happen again. And next time, it won’t be by accident. You hear about people using strength they didn’t know they had, lifting a car to rescue someone after a crash. I understand it now, because that’s how I discovered the bubble. One minute I was falling, both parachutes had failed, and the next thing I knew I was bouncing across the ground!"

"Yeah, fear can make you do funny things," Ray said. "But back to Libby, Captain Jay’s the only other one who knows what happened to that kidnapper. He won't say anything."

"He’s got as much to lose as we do," T agreed. "Being a cop has to be better than being a lab rat, and that’s what the government would turn him into if they knew he had Talent."

"He’s happy right where he is," Ray said. "He was a lieutenant facing retirement, next thing he’s a captain in charge of a new division of espers, and his supervisors don’t know he's a psi himself! The department also lends him out to other agencies, so he stays busy. I know he's worked for Homeland Security, probably the FBI too but no confirmation because they don’t like to share credit."

"He’s official, not like us," said T, "and if Jay needs help he knows who to call. But speaking of feds, I’ve been avoiding that statistician, the one that interviewed us. He’s sharp! I get the idea he knows more than he’s saying; I tried to pick up something from his mind, but couldn’t get anything usable."

"Best to stay as far away from him as possible!" Ray agreed. "Let Captain Jay deal with Homeland Security and the rest. And if that stats guy develops telepathy from being around a Talent, let him get it from Jay. We’ve got way too much to hide."

"Speaking of that, how’s the pyrokinetics going?"

"It’s going," Ray said. "I can light a fire now whenever I want. I'm not sure it's enough to light someone up the way Libby did, but we could help the firefighters next time a wildfire breaks out."

"Set a backfire instead of ripping out trees ahead of the flames?" T suggested.

"Right. I know those firefighters had to wonder what happened to that line of trees we took down! If we can get Jay to clear people out of our way, especially in remote or really rugged areas, we could just levitate in, knock down a few trees, and set the backfires. The main fire would fizzle out as soon as it reached the burned-over area."

"Sounds easy enough," T agreed. "We could definitely do that if Jay does his part."

***

Shorty felt better after his nap. Wearing his usual battered hat, cowboy shirt, boots, and jeans, he walked over to Max’s Cafe. It wasn’t the same, now that his old friends were gone, but Max was someone he could talk to. He could even practice his new communication skills if Max wasn’t busy! Shorty felt better when he could see the person he was comming with.

Little Dry Creek had returned to normal; the tiny settlement saw few strangers now, and the old-time residents liked it that way. Such visitors as there were came from the surrounding ranches, except for the old Indian silversmith; no one knew where he and his wife lived, other than that they had a place back in the canyons and didn’t seek company. She was quiet, rarely speaking, and while he was friendly, he never opened up.

Spring had come to central Nevada. Flowers bloomed in the hills. The elk and deer had moved back into the cool mountains. Their young would be born there and might live six months before sighting a human. They’d learn to avoid the strange two-legged creatures when they left the summer pastures in the mountains next fall.

"Cup of coffee and a piece of pie, Max. What’s good today?"

"The apple pie is fresh out of the oven, Mister Shorty. Want a scoop of ice cream too?"

"Sure do! You staying out of trouble, Max?"

"Trying to. Cream and sugar in the coffee?"

"One and one, Max, just like always."

"I know, but you never know; people do change. First time I do it without asking, you’re gonna make me take it back!"

Shorty grinned. "Naw, I probably wouldn’t do that, Max. But you’re right, it don’t hurt to ask."

"You all right, Shorty? You’re looking a little pale."

"Aw, I wuz indoors most of the winter. No sheep to take care of, so I spent my time working on that computer thing. But I think I’ve about got it licked!"

"Well, maybe that’s it. You’re not sick or anything, are you?"

"Naw, not really. I’ve just had indigestion a couple of times. I keep the antacid tablets in my pocket now and I’m staying away from that green chile on your cheeseburgers!"

"The chiles are hot," Max agreed, "but that’s the way the cowboys like them."

"I know. I like the taste myself, it just don’t like me nowadays!"

"You’re getting old, Shorty."

"Ain’t it the truth? I'm not the only one neither. Mona’s off someplace on a cruise, ain’t got time to even comm with me. She ain’t much better at it than I am anyway. Mike and Denny—I think about them two old coots whenever I go by the barbershop. I stay in Mike’s place most of the time now."

"It’s your place now, Shorty, Denny’s too. They left them to you in their will. Are you going to sell the barbershop?"

"I reckon so, Max. Maybe, if we get a barber that wants it, I’ll just give it to him. I don’t need the money. I still had a little bit left over after I paid off Joe’s mortgage! Doc Shezzie does m’ doctoring, but I ain’t had leg problems since—well, you know. That melding thing Mister T done for me."

"I know. Still, you should stop by and see Doc Shezzie."

"Max, you get to be my age, you stop worrying about that stuff. There’s really only me, now. My friends are gone, most of my family too. The rest don’t really need me. Joe’s doing okay, now that he’s back together with his wife. Libby comms me pretty regular, even though I ain’t quite got the hang of it yet. I can hear her, most of the time anyway, but sometimes she can’t hear me. I reckon it’ll come to me if I keep on tryin’."

"Don’t get depressed, Shorty. You’ve got friends as well as family. Me, Bobby, Ray and T, Doc..."

"Wal, I know. That internet thing is a plumb marvel, too! I don’t know how they do it. I wuz chattin’ with a feller on Facebook this mornin’—you ever try that? Said he was from Australia! Ain’t that somethin’?"

"Be careful, Shorty. Not everybody on the Internet is telling the truth. Don’t go sending somebody money just because they claim to need it!"

"I won’t, Max. First time that happened, gettin’ a message askin’ for money, I commed Mister Ray. He wuz a big help."

"It’s like I said, Shorty. No need to be depressed, you’ve got friends."

***

Ray and T had been linked with Shezzie when she melded with Libby. They'd felt what the young girl had felt during the kidnapping; first anxiety, then uncertainty, fear, then finally terror when the kidnapper drew his pistol. Because they weren't direct participants, they’d kept their own thoughts hidden. Still, even though their link was tenuous, Libby might have realized just how much the two had done. They’d been closing in on the kidnappers at the time, not yet certain of the precise location where they were holding Libby but nearby. Ray had disabled one of the kidnappers, leaving him for the paramedics and the cops, and T had gotten there in time to keep Libby away from them. They were left to wonder what had happened to the burned kidnapper.

Captain Jay Byrd, of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department Special Investigations Division, knew that she was a Talent. He’d found that out only after he developed psi abilities himself, so her secret was safe for now.

The first time she’d commed with the two men, she felt something of their personality. T was a dark presence, a figure of muted violence and awe-inspiring ability, but at the same time she felt a warmth during the connection that not even Grandfather Shorty had. Somehow, she understood that T would do whatever he could to keep her from harm. As for Ray, he seemed more like a father, prepared to protect but also to teach. He had taught her to use the bubble, then kept her safe while she practiced her newly-discovered levitation ability.

<What kind of game, Ray?

<Well, okay. Don’t drop me!>

<Sorry, Libby, but I have to. You’ve got the ability, but you’ve got to learn to make the bubble happen and to do that you need to be afraid. You’ll also need to work on control. Your new abilities are dangerous if you’re not careful.>

Libby glanced down; the ground lay more than fifty feet below her, far enough to be frightening. Ray stood watching, smiling. Suddenly, he released his psychokinetic grip and she tumbled forward, facing the ground as it rushed toward her. She screamed, felt a sudden deceleration—and found herself floating, only a few inches above the ground.

<Not that time,> Ray agreed. <You didn’t get hurt, did you?>

<Oh, no! It was even kind of fun, in a scary way.>

<We’ll try again. Think of all the things you learned from Doc Shezzie, okay?>

<I’ll try. Are you going to do it again?>

<Ray! I don’t know how—> The ground was rushing toward her again! Libby shrieked as she looked down, then glanced up to where Ray floated, following her down. The bubble—something around her to protect herself—a bright red flash surrounded her suddenly, then faded, leaving no afterimage. Libby realized suddenly that she was falling slower.

<That’s the bubble, Libby. Don’t let go, keep it in place. I’ll stay with you.>

The ground grew closer, but Libby felt no fear; she understood that Ray would keep her safe. She slowed, then bounced when the protective field contacted the ground.

<Wait until you’re standing upright, then try to collapse the bubble,> Ray advised. <Let your knees flex so you don’t feel a jolt.>

Libby nodded, waiting. Ready—collapse the layer around her—moments later, she stood upright, grinning her pleasure. <Can we do that again, Ray?>

<Sure, just remember what you did. But don’t let the bubble collapse until you’re ready!>

Libby nodded. <Can’t I just levitate and drop myself, forming the bubble before I hit the ground?>

Libby nodded.

<Be ready,> Ray reminded her. <I’m not lifting you very far, so you need to form the bubble as soon as you begin falling.>

This time, she fell only a few feet before the bubble surrounded her, allowing her to bounce across the ground. Libby squealed in pleasure, then dropped to the ground when she was upright.

<No, always wear something practical. Jeans, shorts if the weather is warm, but even in the bubble your clothes will obey gravity. A skirt or dress is not a good idea, you might end up with it covering your face! Think of turning a cartwheel; don’t wear anything that you wouldn’t wear if you were doing gymnastics.>

The next drop caught her by surprise. Ray had dropped her from less than three feet up, but forming the bubble was automatic and virtually instantaneous. She had time for one rotation only, then she collapsed the bubble and landed on her feet.

<Sure. Watch this!>

There was the faint red flash again and Libby found herself floating a few inches above the ground. She looked at him smugly. Ray glared at her, his face took on a menacing look and he drew back his fist. Suddenly that fist was coming directly toward her face—

Instead, it contacted the bubble, bowling her over. <Uncle Ray! Why did you do that?>

<Almost. T knocked me off the side of a mountain!>

<Wow. You’re not going to do that to me, are you?>

<Sure, but not today,> Ray sent. <It’s scary, but fun. Ready?> At her nod, Ray formed his own bubble and let it expand. In moments the breeze caught him, slowly pushing his bubble southwest. Libby formed her own bubble, but nothing happened for a moment.

<Ray?>

Moments later, Libby found herself rolling across the flats, blown by the slight breeze. She was still a short distance behind Ray. Expanding the bubble, she began rolling faster. As she drew even, she shrank the bubble, adjusting the size until the two were rolling alongside each other. Libby giggled; Ray was rotating at the same speed, but whenever she was upright, he was head down.

Libby had gone almost half a mile before she became dizzy enough to stop the rotation, then drop the bubble, catching herself. Moments later, Ray drifted up alongside. "Ready to go home, Libby?"

<Sure. Can I levitate now?>

"You can, but speak normally. We’ll practice comming another time."

"Okay, Ray; how’s this?" Libby was floating by his side, slightly higher. She no longer had to look up to watch his eyes.

"That’s fine. Just look ahead of us and find a patch of ground, then concentrate on it. Pull yourself toward it. As you get closer, look for another place that’s farther ahead. That’s the basic technique. Just take it slow for now, but later we’ll let you go higher and look farther ahead. Angle your body forward, that makes flying easier. After a while it becomes automatic, just like the bubble."

Libby nodded, concentrating. Slowly she moved away. Ray followed, watching. Moments later she sped up and Ray realized he’d have to keep working with her. Libby was too fearless for her own safety!

But at least she had the bubble now, so maybe that would help. Had Mike and Denny known how to control their bubbles, they might still be alive. But the decision to levitate in the mountains and keep on, even after it became too dark to see, that much they’d done on their own. And neither Ray nor T were foolish enough to fly through mountains in the dark.

The new abilities were wonderful, but they could be lethal to the untrained or overconfident.

Chapter Two

"T, I’ve been teaching Libby to use the bubble. Between that and levitating, she should never have a reason to burn someone again. That’s the problem with using the pyro ability, it’s all or nothing. You can’t almost-burn someone."

"Are you sure, Ray? If it’s anything like the psychokinetic ability, you can move small things as well as large things. It may be possible to control pyrokinetics too."

"How can you almost-burn something, T?"

"Why don’t we go out back and give it a try? Have you tried to just warm something?"

"I can barely manage to set something on fire, much less control the heat!"

"There you go, then. For that matter, I’ve got a few other things I want to take a second look at. You remember I told you I couldn’t use the PK while I was in the bubble, and levitation seems to be part of that? What if I was wrong?"

"You never tried it, T?"

"I did, but that was back when the bubble was the strongest ability I had. I want to give it another shot. Why don’t we head for that flat area by the mine? It’s deserted and nobody ever comes back there except for you and me. Well, Bobby too, but that doesn’t matter, we don’t have any real secrets from him. He’s back there somewhere, trying to get a better focus on the mineral deposit I found."

"Could he be working inside the mine?"

"He might be, but I expect he’s hiking somewhere back in the hills. His new leg is fully grown now, but last time I commed him he said it needed more exercise."

"Sounds like a plan," Ray agreed. "Want to take lunch, or just come back here when we’re done?"

"You make the lunches, I’ll bring a case of water. It’s pretty warm, back in those canyons."

***

After loading the water in the bed of his truck, T added the sports section of the New York Times. He subscribed to the newspaper primarily for the financial information, but the newsprint would be useful today. Hecommed Bobby while they were en route. <We’re heading for the mine. Ray’s with me, and we’re going to work on expanding our abilities. You interested?>

<Sure, I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. What do you have in mind?>

<We’re going to see whether we can use PK from inside the bubble. If we can do that, we’ll try levitating too. The bubble would definitely be a worthwhile addition to levitation! No more goggles, and no slowing down because of wind resistance. We also want to see whether we can control the pyro ability, maybe dial it back.>

<Didn’t you say you couldn’t do that, comm while you're in the bubble?>

T crumpled the newsprint into wads, then scattered them around the tailings dump. The air was still, so there was little chance that fires would spread. The cardboard box, ripped into smaller pieces and distributed among the paper wads, provided more pyro targets and it would probably be harder to light than the newsprint. He finished as Bobby flew over the ridge that lay just north of the mine.

"Leg doing okay, Bobby?"

"Stronger every day, Ray!"

"I think we’ll start with the pyro exercises," T decided. "Better to learn the limits here, where no one will get hurt."

"I’ve used it for campfires," said Bobby proudly. "Nothing to it!"

"You may have had more practice than any of us," Ray acknowledged. "Can you dial back the heat?"

"I don’t know. I’ve never tried."

T joined the two. "Today’s the day to find out. Pick one of the pieces of paper to start with; it’s easy to light, but if you just heat it then it will turn brown and curl up without catching fire."

"Sounds like fun, T. All right, here goes."

Bobby glanced at the closest wad of paper, then concentrated.

"Drat! So much for that!" The paper burned merrily, the flames licking from the base upward.

"Now try putting the fire out, Bobby."

"Is that even possible, T?"

"Won’t know if we don’t try! The pyro ability is just adding heat to something, so maybe we can remove it if we try."

The three looked at the blaze; the paper was now fully alight, but nothing happened despite each of them attempting to extract heat. "You know, T, we’d have to not only take the heat out, we’d have to put it somewhere. Maybe transfer it to the ground?"

"That’s an idea," T agreed. "You know, if we can move heat around—it sounds to me like a form of teleportation."

"Huh. I hadn’t thought of that!"

The flame suddenly died, leaving part of the paper wad unconsumed. "Wow. I did it!"

"How do you know it was you, Bobby? We were all trying."

"Okay, let’s try it again. This time just me, okay?"

"Don’t forget, try to control the heat. Warm the paper first, and if it catches fire then try cooling it down."

Bobby nodded. The second twist of newsprint flamed. The three watched for a moment, then the flames began to die out leaving half the paper unburned.

"Are you doing that, Bobby?"

"I think so. It’s a lot harder than starting a fire!"

Charring the cardboard scraps without setting them on fire proved easier, but putting out flames was still hit or miss when they finally stopped, nearly exhausted. The last scraps of paper and cardboard had burned away; only ashes were left.

"Scatter the ashes," Ray ordered, "and roll the rocks around to hide the soot. Someone might wander by and wonder why there were all those small fires here."

Moments later, there was no evidence that anything unusual had happened; it was, once again, just a tailings dump. Mining regions throughout the west had thousands of such monuments to failed dreams.

"I’ll start with my bubble. That’s the easiest, I’ll just form it and then see if I can levitate." T was hidden by the momentary reddish flash as his bubble formed. Clearly, he was trying to lift himself, but nothing happened."

"Let me try, T." Ray’s bubble flashed into existence. Moments later, he drifted higher as he extended the bubble. It took only seconds to push the bubble to the largest diameter he could control. "I think maybe..." Ray’s voice was muffled, but something was happening. Slowly he drifted higher. "You can’t concentrate on doing both. Form the bubble, then think only about levitating. It’s not easy; every few moments something happens and I lose my concentration. When that happens I begin sinking. I can feel a kind of flutter in the bubble too; I’m not really concentrating on both, I’m switching my attention between them."

"Maybe if I was already levitating, I could form the bubble. It really doesn’t take a lot of concentration." Bobby drifted up, leveling off ten feet above the flat ground by the tailings dump. The reddish flash announced that he’d formed his bubble. Slowly he began drifting downward, finally stabilizing two feet above the surface. He held the position for a long minute, then slowly began moving higher. <Working, but man, this is hard!> Even through the telepathic contact, the sense of strain came through.

<Don’t overdo it, Bobby! You're tired, we all are. Come on down and we’ll work on something else, something that’s not so tough.>

His bubble winked out just as Ray’s did. The two floated to the ground, landing in front of T.

"Looks like you’re both ahead of me, this time," T observed wryly.

"We could all use practice. What next, T?"

"Speed. Neither of you are very fast, but the only thing that slows me down is the wind. If I start moving too fast, it’s uncomfortable, which is why I wear a motorcycle helmet with a full face shield if I expect to be going fast. I’ll try putting my hand in front of my face today, and focus on an area that’s five miles ahead of me. I’ll go first, you two try to keep up."

"We’ll have to be pretty high up to see that far ahead, T."

"Right, there’s a wide area in the road where it dips and goes through that gully. That’s about five miles back, so we’ll levitate until we can see it. Last one back’s a rotten levitator."

The three chuckled even as they began rising.

"Cool up here, T. No airplanes around, are there?"

"None I can see, Ray. The clearing’s in sight, so whenever you’re ready, give it a try."

"You know, if we could use the bubble we should be able to forget about the wind, shouldn’t we?"

"Yeah, but we’ve established that..."

Two pops answered him as Ray and Bobby formed their bubbles, then streaked toward the clearing. T was barely behind them at the start, but the two vanished moments after their bubbles formed. <Ray! Bobby? What happened?>

<We’re here, T. Wow, that was fast! It was like there was no time between, we were just here!>

T’s answer was slow in coming. <Meet me back at the mine. We need to talk.>

T walked over and picked up a water bottle from the truck. Draining it, he tossed the empty back in the truck’s bed and turned to Ray. "I don’t think you were levitating. I know that’s what we were doing at the start, but as soon as you formed the bubbles and took off I couldn’t even see you. Something else; I could hear you, but it sounded like you were down in a well or something. There was an echo. You too, Bobby; it was almost as if I could hear your thoughts twice, one just a little bit ahead of the other.

"I don’t understand," Bobby protested. "I didn’t hear that from you; if anything, it was as if you had stopped comming for a moment. I heard you, then there was nothing for a second, and after that I could hear you fine.

"Ray, Bobby, whatever happened you both did it. I don’t see how I could have made a mistake. You were there, then you vanished. It wasn’t like you moved faster, you just weren’t there anymore! I think you just teleported. We talked about moving energy, but there’s more to what you just did than that. What I heard—just almost-instant transport, that wouldn’t cause your thoughts to change. It wouldn’t cause me to stop thinking, either. I need to think about this. Anyway, we’re all tired. What say we have lunch, then head back for the ranch? Bobby, you could stand a shower!"

"There aren’t many bathrooms back where I was! But I’ve found two smaller deposits off to the side of yours. I haven’t had time to do a real investigation, but they’re not as deep as the main deposit is."

"You want to try sinking a shaft, Bobby? We could take a look, and if seems feasible we could help you dig."

"Dig? T, I’m an explosives guy! I’ve already got ammonium nitrate, all I need is more diesel fuel. I’ll need a piece of pipe too, maybe six inches in diameter? I’ll just drive it in, then pour it full of ANFO when I get through mixing it. There’s plenty of dynamite to set off the ANFO, and I’ve got a box of electric blasting caps. If it’s all right with you, I’ll blow the charge tomorrow morning."

"I’ll come up, Bobby. Ray, you want to be up here too?"

"Wouldn’t miss it, T! Tell you what, though, I’m going home after we get back and catch a shower myself. I might take a nap after that."

"You’re getting old, Ray. Why don’t you and Ana Maria head over to the ranch after she gets off work? We’ll broil steaks on the patio."

"Works for me, T! See you around six?"

"Six or half past. If you’re early, I’ve got a new scotch we can try. Glenmorangie Lasanta; they mature it in used sherry barrels or something. It’s supposed to give it a smoother taste."

"Where’d you get that? I never heard of it before."

"I had it shipped in. You can do that, you know."

"The Post Office ships booze, T?"

"UPS does. You have to sign for it, but otherwise it’s the same as any other package."

"I’ll have to try that. I’ve been swapping messages with an Irish fellow regarding horses. He likes Ardbeg; it’s supposed to be very peaty. Still, the Balvenie twenty-one year old is also matured in port barrels, so I might try that one."

"Expensive tastes, Ray."

"Yeah, well—to quote somebody or other, I don’t drink often but I prefer quality when I do."

"I understand. But about this morning, I think I might have figured out what happened when you two vanished. I’m reasonably sure you teleported, and as for why your thoughts sounded weird, I wonder if somehow teleportation is involved with time travel. Could you have skipped out of our timeline?"

"I don’t know," Ray admitted/ "If I did, it was only for a fraction of a second. Still, it’s not all that accurate, whatever I did. I didn’t land where I intended, I was about thirty yards off. That’s probably not a problem because I was in my bubble, but I don’t think I’d want to try it without protection! Suppose I’d teleported into a tree or a boulder?"

"Let’s think about it. Don’t try it unless one of us knows what you’re doing; you might get into something you can’t handle. I think we all need to take it slow and learn all we can until we know what we’re getting into."

"Yeah. I haven’t forgotten about Denny and Mike. I doubt I ever will."

Chapter Three

Bobby headed back to the location he’d been scouting after breakfast. A small shipment of steel pipes had been delivered while they were having dinner, but they still had to be transported to the mine. From there, Bobby would need to lift the heavy pipes to his new discovery.

Was his intuition, what T called a ‘hunch’, accurate? There was really only one way to find out. T had solid evidence that his peculiar ability worked; he’d used it to find the caches Doc Noss had buried in the New Mexico desert. With Ray’s help, he’d recovered a bag of gold coins and several boxes of gold bars that the paranoid old man had buried. Had the buried treasures really originated with the Emperor Maximilian? Some believed so; reportedly, Doc Noss had recovered a crown as well as the bars and coins he’d hidden.

Ray had sold the coins through dealers. The effort had attracted unwanted attention from federal agencies that believed it must be tied to drug dealing. He had kept part of his share of the sale proceeds in a bank account, which federal officials had seized. The US Attorney’s office had eventually released the money under threat of a lawsuit when no evidence of wrongdoing could be found.

T sold most of the bars through contacts in Arizona, who then smuggled them into Mexico. The millions of dollars they’d gotten from the sales had purchased the ranch and established Doctor Schmidt’s, Shezzie’s, clinic. T’s ability appeared to be an enhanced version of the ability that dowsers used. Most used their ability to find water, while others were reportedly able to locate precious metals, even gemstones, using the same techniques. Traditional dowsers used twigs or metal, though a few used nothing more than their senses. As for Bobby’s own intuitive feeling, only time would tell whether it was as accurate as T’s. Miners throughout history had held similar feelings, and most had died broke. Still, there were the few who’d been considered "lucky", just as some gamblers seemed able to sense what cards other players held.

Bobby now had the pipes and blasting supplies he'd ordered. It was only necessary to blow off the overburden, then remove the shattered rock below in order to link the surface to the adit below. Ray drove the two of them to the site, using T’s truck. The pipes and the sand-spikes Bobby had ordered as part of the shipment rested in the back, along with two plastic canisters of diesel fuel and a case of bottled water.

"I can carry the diesel and the sand spikes, or you can carry the extras and I’ll bring the pipes. Got any preferences, Ray?"

"You carry the pipes, Bobby. Take off when you’re ready, I’ll be right behind you. You’re not going to blow the charges today, are you?"

"T wants to be here, so I’ll let him sniff around the deposit before I set the charges, see what he thinks of it."

"Sounds good," Ray agreed. "Lead off, I’ll follow. I’ll call T now; by the time he gets here, we should have your supplies at the site."

"I’ll leave you there while I go back to the mine, Ray. I’ve still got to bring up the ammonium nitrate and the dynamite and caps. Tell you what, for safety you should come with me. You carry the dynamite, I’ll carry the ammonium nitrate and the caps."

"Caps won’t set off ammonium nitrate, will they?" Ray asked.

"Probably not. ANFO needs a pretty sharp jolt to set it off, that’s why we use dynamite. Still, there’s no reason to take chances. T can stop at the bunker and bring the caps."

"Sounds good. I’ll comm him now."

***

T arrived at the blast location an hour later, bringing the electrical caps, the small blasting machine, and a roll of two-conductor wire. "I figured you’d need this stuff too, Bobby."

"It’s probably best," Bobby agreed. "I considered setting off the charge by PK, just slam a piece of rebar down on the capped dynamite. I might do that next time, or if for some reason I get a misfire I’ll try it here. But before we do that, T, why don’t you see if you can sense the deposit? Maybe two of us can do a better job of precisely locating it."

"Sure. Give me a few seconds." T drifted over the section already marked with three rebar rods Bobby had driven into the ground. He paused, then moved beyond the rods, eventually circling the location and coming back to land next to Bobby and Ray.

"I’m getting something, but I can’t tell what it is. You think the deposit is triangular, or did you just put the rods in to define the center of the deposit?"

"I think it’s more or less triangular," Bobby agreed. "I used that trick you told me about, hold a couple of coins while I surveyed the site, one hand holding a silver peso I got in Mexico a few years ago and the other a half-ounce gold eagle I bought the last time I was in Las Vegas. I carried them for luck, so maybe they are. I also figured if I was ever broke, I could sell them and get enough to live on for a while, maybe get a ticket back to the states. Some of the places I worked, having an insurance policy like that was a necessity! Anyway, I tried to visualize the ore body while I held onto the peso and nothing happened. With the gold eagle, though, I got a much stronger impression."

"I never tried doing it like that," T said thoughtfully. "Can I borrow your eagle for a minute?"

"Sure, T. Don’t go running off with it, though."

"I’ll keep it safe, Bobby." T levitated, then hovered over the approximate center of the marked area. Descending, he moved around from rebar marker to marker, then moved outside and circled the area. "You’ve got something, all right. The deposit extends about ten feet on each side beyond the triangle you marked. Was that deliberate?"

"Right, I planned to drive the iron pipes into the ground just inside the poles. That’s close enough for the ANFO to shatter the rock on top, and it will also break up the upper part of the deposit. Whether the shock wave will propagate deep enough to bust the rest of the deposit, I don’t know. I figure that by using a full stick of dynamite per charge and a twelve-foot section of ANFO in the pipe, I’ll get down about fifteen feet with this blast."

"You using a tamper, Bobby?"

"Right, notice that the ANFO pipes are capped at one end and there’s a half-inch hole drilled through the cap? I’ll unscrew the cap, then pass the leads from the blasting cap through the predrilled hole. The wire leads are twisted together so that stray voltage won’t set off the squibs that fire the caps. I’ll test for continuity after I run the leads through the pipe caps, that eliminates the possibility that the insulation would be scraped off the wire leads during installation. I’ll do all that, then store the blasting caps behind rocks for safety while I load the charges. Why don’t you two move back to that ridge to the north? That’s far enough that you should be safe, and if any chunks of rock come your way just use your bubbles. That’s what I’m going to do, form my bubble as soon as I’ve fired the charges."

"Sounds like a plan, Bobby. Want us to help plant the pipes?"

"Sure, just screw the sand spikes into the end opposite to the threaded caps. The pipes came with the threads pre-cut. Finger-tight is probably good enough. For that matter, we might have been able to drive the pipes in without using the spikes, but no use taking a chance. It’s pretty rocky up here."

"Can do, Bobby." The three men attached the spikes. These were intended for use in driven water wells and consisted of conical metal points screwed into perforated stainless steel extensions. This would allow water to flow in after the pipe was driven deep enough. There was no water up here, but the spikes would help to prevent rock particles or dirt from entering and possibly plugging the pipes. T finished first, then moved his section of pipe to the location Bobby indicated, just inside one of the rebar markers. "Heads up; I’m going to plant this thing."

Ray and Bobby stopped, watching T as he carefully lifted the pipe, not stopping until the pipe floated high above them. Judging the position of the pipe, T nodded, satisfied.

"Ray, one final check. I’m just going to drop the pipe straight down. I figure it’s about a hundred feet in altitude and if it doesn’t go deep enough, I’ll try slamming it in deeper. Feel like giving me a hand?"

"Wait one, T. I’ll lift a pebble up until it touches the point, then drop it. Where the pebble hits, that’s where the pipe will land."

"Good thinking, Ray. Yeah, I could be off by a little."

Ray’s pebble landed just slightly more than two feet inside the marker. T carefully moved the pipe, adjusting the location while ensuring it was as vertical as possible.

"Dropping it...now!" The section of pipe smashed into the dirt. It finally stopped with some four feet still projecting above the surface. "Want to try driving it deeper, Bobby?"

"I don’t know if we can, T."

"Why don’t I see what I can do, Bobby. I’ll need one of those threaded pipe caps, though."

"Wait one, T." Bobby removed the wires that had been threaded through the drilled hole in the cap, then handed it to T, who handed it to Ray.

"Screw this onto the end, just finger tight. I’ll bring in my hammer."

Ray fitted the cap over the pipe end, then watched as a large boulder slowly drifted down the slope. T positioned the multi-ton rock over the embedded pipe. When it was centered, T dropped it atop the capped pipe.

"That ought to do it, don’t you think?"

T lifted the boulder and moved it away, stacking it fifty yards downhill. He repeated the process for each of the remaining pipes.

Half an hour later the three pipes had been driven flush. The threaded pipe caps had been removed and returned to Bobby, who had prepared the blasting caps by threading the wire leads through the hole. He had then mixed the ammonium nitrate and fuel oil, using the plastic-lined bags that had held the chemical. As he finished each bag, he packed the thick slurry into the pipes, stopping when the mix was six inches from the end. The excess fuel oil was stored behind the boulder T had used as a hammer. "I’ll do the final prep now. Why don’t the two of you wait behind T’s pebble while I do that, okay? From this point on, don’t use your abilities until I fire the charge. I don’t want to take a chance that something electrical will ruin my day."

Using a wooden stick, Bobby pressed a hole into the ANFO large enough to take the dynamite. Easing the explosive into the hollow, he pressed gently, making sure the dynamite was fully embedded and that none of the explosive material reached above the top of the pipe. The blasting cap went into the plastic-covered hollow in the top of the dynamite. Feeding the wires through, he lowered the threaded pipe cap into place and turned it gently, feeling the threads grip.

Repeating the process for the other charges, he gathered in the three shunted ends of the electrical blasting cap leads. This was the fun part...

Bobby twisted three wires, one of each wire pair, together, then repeated the process using the other wires. Satisfied, he attached one of the joined blasting cap wires to each of the leads of the blasting wire, already laid out in readiness. The far end of the wires were shorted together for safety. Bobby followed the wire back to the initiation point, looking for any faults as he went. "All right, I’ll connect the wires to the blasting machine now. Stay behind your rock, okay?"

"Got it, Bobby."

Bobby untwisted the two wires, then scraped the metal conductors with the back of a knife blade to remove any oxidation. Finally ready, he attached a wire to each of the posts on the hand-held blasting machine, then tightened the knurled knob to hold the wire in position. The firing circuit was now complete. "Fire in the hole...fire in the hole...fire in the hole!" As soon as he’d finished the call, Bobby sharply twisted the handle of the machine. The action spun a small generator inside the device, sending a jolt of electricity down the wires.

The loud crack of the explosions was followed by a shock wave. The boulder T and Ray waited behind absorbed the air shock, but they felt the vibration through the ground. Down the slope, a huge cloud of dust puffed into the air, hanging for a moment before dissipating in the light breeze. Thumping sounds told where chunks of rock had landed.

"Think that’s enough of a hole, Bobby?"

"I’ll know when I clear the loose rubble out. Want to help me with that? Then we can see what we’ve got and head back to your place, T. I don’t know about you, but I think I deserve a glass of your whiskey!"

Chapter Four

"I’ve never seen anything like this, T!"

"I’ve heard of it, Bobby, but you’re right, it’s unusual. The old-time miners called it ‘jewelry rock’; I read up on mining when we were considering whether to exploit that deposit I found, and that’s where I found the reference. Anyway, this is the first time I’ve heard of this kind of gold in Nevada. Most of what’s mined here is like what I found before, small amounts of gold and other metals dispersed through the rock. This pocket, though, might be part of the Carlin Unconformity that’s east of here, a kind of offshoot."

"I’ve heard of that one," Bobby agreed, "but it’s more north of here. I’d have to look at a geologic map to be sure, but since unconformities are regions where the geologic record isn’t complete, I might not be able to tell if the formation extends this far. Part of the geology is missing, most often caused by erosion, but geologic processes can happen wherever the conditions are right, so you might be right about this being part of that formation. Remember the old adage, gold is where you find it!"

"I’ve heard that one," T said. "The Battle Mountain-Eureka trend is northeast of us too, but there are half a dozen known mine locations scattered around the ranch’s borders, some to the north, several others to the south. The hills around here show igneous outcrops too, and they’re mostly quartz-rich."

"This rock is mostly quartz," Bobby commented, "with what appears to be wire gold running through it, so whatever caused that Carlin-Battle Mountain complex may also have formed the pockets we’ve found here. I figure the gold and quartz were dissolved by hot circulating groundwater, along with other minerals. The solution would not only be very hot, it would also be under high pressure, so the earthquake that caused the unconformity allowed pockets to form. A sudden drop in pressure would flash the water to steam, leaving the gold and quartz behind."

"Sounds right, Bobby, but if we market this here we’ll be neck-deep in prospectors! I can think of a couple of ways to sell the gold, but they’re not necessarily legal."

"What do you have in mind?" Bobby asked curiously.

"First, there's the question of who gets what. Ray and I own the land, but you found this deposit, and the other one you located might be just as big. The deposit I found is lower-grade but probably more extensive. What would you say to splitting the profits from the deposits three ways?"

"Even split?" Bobby asked. "I’d go along with that. So how would you market it?"

"Start by selling the best samples to collectors," T said. "We’d have to do it in California or Alaska, because if anyone discovers that we mined it here, the weekend miners would be flooding in. Next thing you know, we’d have OSHA and all the other snoopies here, wanting to know how we found it. We can’t explain that, or for that matter how we’re extracting the ore. we don’t even want people roaming around the hills who might hear the next blast. Possibly, after we’ve got most of the gold out, we can let the story leak. There are people around here who could use the money, if they have similar deposits on their land. Even so, if the government starts looking too deep they’ll start wondering about us. We could wind up moving on again."

"What about the other stuff?" Bobby asked. "You said sell the best samples to collectors, so what would you do with the samples that are not so rich?"

"Easiest thing to do is crush the rock and pan out the gold," T mused. "That should be easy, because most of what we recovery by panning is likely to be larger than the flakes that usually turn up. We can then sell the panned gold through the same Mexican dealers I used before. You need a lot of heat to melt gold, but after that it's easy to cast ingots. We might even be able to do it using the pyro ability."

"I hadn’t thought of that! I don’t know if it’s possible, but yeah, I’d like to try!"

"One thing, Bobby, plan to hold some of it back for yourself. Like the coins you were using, gold makes a good emergency fund. Ray and I already have gold, money too, cached back in the hills. If the government finds out who and what we are, that’s our get-out-of-town money. We’ve each got about half a million stashed here and there, some of it in bars but Krugerrands too. Selling the bars takes some doing, but there are dealers everywhere who’ll buy Krugerrands. We’ve got new identity documents stashed too, and you should have at least one new identity that no one knows about but you."

"T, I’m not wanted by the authorities!" Bobby protested.

"Neither is Ray, and for that matter maybe I’m not either. I don’t know any more. I wanted to clear a blot on my name, but the government claimed they had no record of me. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised to find the agency that I once worked for has a file, and we’ve had other government agencies snooping into our affairs since then. They’d love to find out about the things we can do, and that definitely includes you! You're the first person to ever regrow a leg, don't forget!

"I don’t want any part of it; I’ve worked for the government and they’re just people. They’re not to be trusted, because they’re looking out for their own best interests, not ours. A lot are ambitious, and if using you can further their careers you’ll wind up stuck somewhere doing something you don’t want to do. I won’t let that happen to me, and it won't because there’s a big world out there, and it’s easy to get lost if you’ve got psionic abilities and money!"

***

Shorty sat up in bed. The indigestion had worsened suddenly; the pain in his upper body was now accompanied by numbness extending down his left arm. Alarmed, Shorty wondered if this might be heart trouble of some kind. <Doc Shezzie, Mister T, I reckon I might need a little help if you’re not busy.>

Shorty waited, but got no response. This wasn’t really a surprise, his ability was spotty at best. Maybe, if he tried Mr. Ray...? <Mister Ray, can you hear me?>

There was no answer.

Well. This wasn’t the first time Shorty had found himself alone. It was time to do what he’d always done, take care of himself. Shorty dressed carefully and walked out the front door. Max’s Cafe wasn’t far, and even if the cafe was closed, Max would be somewhere around. He could call Doc Shezzie.

***

<T, I need help!>

<Libby? What’s wrong?>

<It’s Grandpa! He’s in trouble, and he called you but you didn’t answer!>

<He’s on his way to Max’s. I’ve already called Doctor Shezzie, she’s on her way. But Grandpa called you too, so could you help? Doctor Shezzie might need you.>

<We’re in Houston. I don’t know how fast I can get back, I can’t tell my mother because she would wonder how I know that Grandpa is sick!>

<There’s nothing you can do here, Libby. I’ll be at Max’s in two minutes and we’ll do what we can. Libby, you understand, don’t you?> T sent. <Your grandfather isn’t a young man.>

<I’ll let you know as soon as Shezzie has a look. If Shorty needs to go to a hospital, I’ll get him there as fast as possible.>

<Thanks, T! I owe you one.>

<No, you don’t. I’m glad to help. I can see Shezzie ahead, she’s already there with Shorty. I’ll comm you back when I have a few minutes.> T drifted to a landing. Shezzie had her go-bag open and was holding her stethoscope on Shorty’s chest.

"Howdy, Mister T. I tried to call you but it didn’t work. How’d you get here so fast?"

"Libby heard you, Shorty. She called both of us. How are you feeling?"

"Wal, I’m a little short of breath. Got pain in my chest too. Figured I’d go over and let Max call one of you."

"Didn’t you have your cell phone, Shorty?"

"Wal, I hadn’t used it for a while. I looked, but the battery wuz dead."

<T, can you hold off for now?> Shezzie asked.

<Can do.> T reached for his cell phone. <No bars here, Shezzie. Be right back.> T lifted off, arrowing straight up while watching the screen. He picked up a signal about a thousand feet up and punched the numbers.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"

"Possible heart attack, Doctor Schmidt is with the patient. Location is Little Dry Creek. Oh, and Doctor Schmidt made the decision to call you."

"Wait one." There was a short pause. "Paramedics have been notified. I’ll pass your phone number on, you’ll be hearing from them shortly."

"Thank you." T broke the connection and decided to remain where he was, drifting about a thousand feet above where Shezzie was working on Shorty. If they called back, he’d need to be where he could receive the call.

<I’ll be up here for a while, Shezzie. They’ll call back.>

<I’ve done all I can here, T. As soon as they return your call, I’d like you to stay with Shorty while I get the clinic ready. I’ve got oxygen there in case we need it. I’ve already given him an aspirin and two squirts of nitro under the tongue. I’ll stay with Shorty until you’re available, but bring him to the clinic as soon as possible.>

<I’ll call Max and Ray. Leave Max with Shorty when he gets here, I’ll handle the phone calls, you go to the clinic. Should I take Shorty direct to a hospital?>

<No, the paramedics have seen this before, they know what to do, and he’ll be seen faster if he’s brought in by ambulance. As soon as you’ve talked to EMS by phone, you and Max bring Shorty to the clinic. Tell them to meet us there, they can transport him from the clinic to the hospital. Closest facility is Reno, so likely they’ll send an air ambulance. Keep your eyes peeled, you don’t want to be seen.>

<T?>

<Libby, Doctor Shezzie...>

<Shezzie’s good, Libby. If anything can be done, she’ll do it. I’m here with them too, and I can do a few things that other people can’t.>

<Oh, I know about that! I’m glad you’re there.>

<Well, not exactly. I mean, you’re easy to hear, you and Ray too. And of course, I can easily hear what Doctor Shezzie’s thinking.>

<Libby, how long have you been able to do this?>

<Well, actually I’ve been able to do it since I commed you the first time. With Doctor Shezzie, I could hear her as soon as we’d melded. I can hear Bobby too. Congratulations on finding that gold, by the way! And you’re doing great with the pyro stuff and teleporting. I can’t wait to try that!>

<Don’t you dare! Libby, that’s dangerous, especially since you’re still a beginner! I can’t believe you can hear us, even when we’re not comming you!>

<Phone’s ringing,> T sent, <I’ll get back to you. But we’re going to have a talk, young lady!>

***

T landed near Max. Shezzie had already flown; by now she’d have the oxygen equipment waiting and a gurney ready for Shorty. "Chopper’s on the way, Max. Give me a hand, we’ll lift Shorty to the clinic."

"Fireman’s carry, T?"

"Something like that, Max. We’ll link arms, I’ll lift Shorty using PK and set him in the cradle, and together we’ll levitate him to the clinic. Shorty, you don’t do anything! Just relax, we’ll carry you."

"Okay, Mister T. I plumb appreciate it. I’m feeling a tad better now, even if my heart’s thumping like a bass drum!"

"That’s the nitro, Shorty. Just relax, we’re on our way."

<T?>

T and Max landed softly by the clinic door. Ana Maria had the gurney waiting and the oxygen tank and cannula ready. The two men laid Shorty carefully on the gurney and arranged the blanket over him, then fastened the straps in place.

Ray drifted in and joined the others.

<Can do.> Ray walked around the corner of the building.

<I’ve heard that there have been crashes, T. Is it safe?>

<Thanks, T! But I should be there!>

<Libby, there’s nothing you can do that we can't! Enjoy your vacation, we’ll comm you if anything changes.>

<T, that’s my Grandpa! He took care of me, I need to be there for him! I know you’re his friend, but it’s not the same! Have you called my dad?>

<Don’t worry about it, I’ll just tell him you called me! I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.>

Headstrong child! T filled Ray in on his plan; the two would follow the helicopter, then drop back as soon as it began landing. "Libby’s been listening to everything we say, at least everything we comm, and she heard us talking about teleporting too. She’s a handful already, no telling what she’ll be like when she’s grown!"

"She seems pretty mature, T. She’s had some bad experiences and she’s handling them all right. The kidnapping, flaming that guy, and before that she had to deal with her parents separating and being stuck out at the end of nowhere with Shorty. She’s doing quite well, I’d say."

"Yeah, but she’s still a kid, and headstrong! She’s not nearly as cautious as she should be."

"We can work on that, T. We’ve got time."

"I sure hope so, Ray."

Chapter Five

"Shorty, you’ve got a partially blocked coronary artery. No open-heart surgery for you, the cardiologist will perform an angioplasty and then you’ll be good for another ninety-two years!"

"Doc Shezzie, if I get through the next ninety-two minutes I’ll be satisfied! Did you look at that form they asked me to sign?"

"The permission form, Shorty? The one that allows them to treat you?"

"Wal, I reckon that was it. Plumb got my attention."

"How’s that, Shorty?"

"That doctor fellow said I should be aware of some possible side effects. He mentioned another heart attack and death. I reckon he meant that it could happen while I wuz layin’ there with a tube stuck in my leg."

"That rarely happens, Shorty, but doctors have to mention it. You can’t make an informed judgment unless you know everything that the medical team intends to do."

"I reckon. You gonna be there, Doc Shezzie?"

"Not unless it would make you feel better, Shorty. The cardiologist has done this before, several hundred times in fact, and he’s got a team he works with. They really don’t need me, I’d just be in the way."

"Wal, if you say so, Doc. He said they’d be ready in an hour or so. Gonna put that introducer thing in my leg, then run a tube up my artery. He showed me a model, that thing must be three feet long!"

"They’ll use more than one, Shorty. One is for injecting the dye so they can see what’s happening in the arteries around your heart. If there’s a blockage, it will show up on the X-rays. Anyway, they’re here, Shorty; they’ll take you to the catheterization lab, and I’ll be waiting when you get back. I’ll keep T and Ray informed too."

"Thanks, Doc. I’ll see you when they get done pokin’ and proddin’."

Two attendants rolled Shorty down the hallway, still connected to a variety of wires and tubes. A large elevator waited and they wheeled the bed inside. "Doing okay, sir?"

"Shore am. This bed’s right comfy. Makes me realize I ought to buy a new mattress when I get home!"

The two attendants chuckled; patients often joked on their way to the cath lab. It was a way to reduce the tension. The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The attendants pushed the bed down the hall, then turned right. Automatic doors whooshed behind them. "Still with us, Shorty?"

"Shore am, Doc. My chest still hurts some too."

"I’ll have a better idea what’s going on in there when I get more information. I’ll be busy for the next few minutes, so you just relax and we’ll soon have you out of here. You’ll feel a small stick in a moment, but the rest of the procedure is painless and you’ll be awake the whole time."

"Thanks, Doctor. Ain’t the first time I’ve been stuck with needles or cut on."

"I saw the scars. They’ve been there a long time, haven’t they?"

"Yup. Got one in Sicily, the others in France and Germany. That wuz back in nineteen forty-five."

The masked figure nodded, then moved toward the end of the bed. Shorty felt the small pain the doctor had mentioned, then waited. A male nurse, also masked, moved a frame into place and pulled down on the screen; the device looked a lot like an old-fashioned window blind. "What’s that thing, doctor?"

"It’s a screen, Shorty. I’ve done many of these procedures, so have my assistants. The screen protects us from the X-rays. We’ll use those to show us where the blockage is, then we’ll follow the catheter on the screen as I thread it through the artery. There are branches in the arteries, and I’ll need to follow the right one. I’ll be recording the display and as soon as I have a moment, I’ll play it back for you so you can see what we’re doing. We’re putting the dye in now, Shorty. It might feel a little uncomfortable."

Shorty nodded, concentrating on the sensations he was feeling. He wasn’t alarmed; for whatever reason, he was relaxed, almost a spectator to what was happening. Had the nurse injected a sedative in the tube connected to his wrist?

The doctor moved into position. Suddenly the window-blind screen snapped up and the doctor muttered under his breath. He pulled down on the screen, but it refused to stay in place.

"How about I give you a hand, Doc? I ain’t doin’ much else, just lyin’ here."

"You sure, Shorty?"

"Shore, Doc, nothin’ to it." Shorty held the bottom of the screen while the doctor and his team worked. Moments later the nurse thanked Shorty and moved the screen aside.

"You’ve got a partial blockage of the right coronary artery here, in the right marginal artery. Here’s what it looks like." Another team member wheeled over a monitor that looked much like an ordinary television. Shorty watched, fascinated, as the rope-like arteries pulsed gently and the heart squeezed rhythmically. "Dang, I never saw nothin’ like that! Shore is amazin’!"

"That’s the blockage right there; see how the thread of dye just past that point is smaller? That means this location has something blocking the blood flow. We’ll try a balloon angioplasty now. Can you hold the screen again?"

"Shore, Doc; I ain’t goin’ nowhere."

More wiggling at the bottom of the bed. Were they putting the balloon in his artery? Shorty heard faint noises from where the doctor worked. Suddenly the pain in his chest was gone! There was no residual pain, nothing. It happened as suddenly as flipping a light switch. "Dang! I reckon you got it, Doctor!"

"I think you’re right, Shorty. I don’t think you’ll even need a stent, but since you’ll be with us for a few days I can put one in if there are complications. We’ll be removing the portal now and getting you ready to go to recovery in a moment. Thanks for your assistance! I’ll recommend you for screen-holding duties to all my friends."

"Will it hurt anything if I laugh, Doc?"

***

T sat, half asleep, on a bench outside the hospital. <T?>

<I’m here, Libby. What’s up?>

<It’s Grandpa! I’m having a hard time reading his thoughts.>

<I’m sure he’s all right, Libby. Shezzie’s in the hospital, she’ll let me know if anything happens.>

<Libby, what could you do?>

<Libby, you don’t know what you’re doing! You’re being silly!>

<Silly, am I?>

Libby looked at her mother. Veronica was engrossed in a conversation with Sherry and her mother; it appeared that Veronica was amazed at the store’s prices, while Silvia intended to spend at least some of the money she’d won in Las Vegas. No one paid attention to Libby as she walked through the store’s entrance into the mall.

She took the escalator to the ground floor, then walked outside to the parking lot. Houston was hot and muggy, and Libby began sweating as soon as she was outside. Unnoticed, she walked across the street into the Galleria’s parking area. There were cars driving through, people walking, but no one paid her any attention. Most appeared to be heading into the mall.

Libby kept walking. She stopped long enough to send a text message, then resumed walking. Minutes later, she approached the outer parking zone. The traffic in this area was much lighter. Libby stepped between a large pickup truck and a Volkswagen, deciding this was as good a place as she was likely to find. Glancing around a final time, she hopped into the bed of the pickup. Best to have no obstructions around—

Glancing at the sun, Libby oriented herself, facing westward. Thinking for a moment, she turned slightly to the right. If her direction was slightly off, she could correct when she got there. Little Dry Creek should be in that direction, perhaps a thousand miles away or maybe more. No problem! Levitation took almost no energy, so probably teleportation would work the same way. After all, neither Ray or Bobby had reported being especially tired after their first attempts. She’d have picked up the information from reading T’s thoughts. Her bubble formed with a bare pop, the slight reddish flash lost in the sun’s glare. A moment later, Libby vanished.

No one saw it happen.

***

Half an hour later, Veronica glanced around. "Sherry, did you see where Libby went?"

"No ma’am, I was listening to you and mom. Want me to look for her? She’s probably over by the swimsuit section. She said she needed a new suit, now that she’s outgrown the one she had last year."

"Would you, Sherry? We’ll wait here."

Sherry returned ten minutes later. "She’s not in the swimwear section. I looked in sportswear too but she’s not there. I asked the saleslady and she hasn’t seen her."

"Spread out, then," Veronica decided. "We’ll look through the store, and I need to speak to the manager or someone from security." Veronica found a department manager, who notified the store manager who called in the store’s security team. The security manager spotted Libby walking out the open door. The store manager notified mall security, who initiated a search. But they found no trace of Libby.

A cursory search of the parking lot’s video surveillance spotted a young girl wearing the same color and style clothing that Libby had worn. The video didn’t show the girl’s face. she had headed into the parking lot, alone, then vanished utterly.

Police were notified and an Amber Alert issued, to no avail. For all the good the searching did, Libby might as well have vanished into thin air.

Attempts to contact Joe were fruitless. He’d been working out of town and was on a plane to Las Vegas. He had switched off his cell phone during the flight. He got Veronica’s text message as soon as he landed. He called her back a few minutes later. "What do you mean Libby’s gone?"

"Joe, we reported it to the mall and they called the police. We saw her on video, walking out the mall entrance. The security people didn’t get a look at her face, but I know that was Libby. She was alone and no one paid her any attention as she walked into the parking lot. We don’t know where she was going, she said nothing to me, and Sherry said she didn’t speak to her either. One minute she was there, the next she’d walked away. I swear, when she gets back I’m going to ground her until she’s fifty!"

"First, we’ve got to find her, Veronica. Maybe she left me a message on my home phone. I’ll check as soon as I get there and call you back."

Joe called Veronica thirty minutes later. "Libby left a message. My father’s had a heart attack and he’s in a hospital in Reno. She didn’t mention leaving you or where she was going. You need to come home as soon as you find her. I’ll catch a flight to Reno so I can be with Shorty."

"But Joe, what if she’s in trouble?"

"Okay, stay there for a few days in case she shows up. She’s pretty resourceful and she’ll probably find you at the hotel. She knows where the two of you were staying, right?"

"Right, she’s got one of the two key cards. The name is on the card if she forgets."

"All right. Call me when she shows up. I’ll probably stay overnight in Reno. If my dad’s okay, I’ll head for home tomorrow. I don’t think I want to mention this to him, but he’s got friends that seem able to get things done. I’ll give them a call. Maybe they can help find Libby."

"You see about your father, but call me as soon as you know something."

"I will. You call me as soon as you find Libby."

***

<Libby...> There was no answer. <Libby! Talk to me!> There was still no answer, and the sensation he’d felt from her mind had vanished. <Ray, try to contact Libby! I can’t feel her comm!>

<T, I can try, but hang on a minute, Shezzie’s stronger than either of us. I’ll contact her.>

T waited. Moments later, Shezzie’s comm came through. <Nothing, T. I can’t feel anything at all. It’s like she vanished.>

<Shezzie, unless you’re needed in the hospital, we need to talk! Can you leave?>

<Shorty’s expecting me to wait for him in recovery, T. They’re bringing him out of the cath lab now.>

<Ray, meet me in the coffee shop. Shezzie, join us there as soon as you can.> T sat, brooding as he waited. Ray walked in ten minutes later and Shezzie arrived after half an hour.

"Libby’s gone," T said. "Best guess, she tried to teleport. She was worried about Shorty and insisted on coming back here."

"Why didn’t she tell her mother and catch a plane to Reno?"

"She would have had to explain how she knew that Shorty was sick. I doubt that her father even knows; has anyone called Joe?"

Ray and Shezzie looked at each other. "I haven’t," she said. "I’ve been with Shorty the whole time, except for when he was in the cath lab. Maybe the hospital called him? He’s Shorty’s next of kin, and they’d have that information from when he checked in."

"Easy enough to find out." T took out his cell phone and punched the numbers. "Joe, this is T. I’m a friend of Shorty’s."

"I remember, T. Dad’s not here though, he’s in a hospital in Reno."

"I know. Your father’s sick, he had a heart attack. Somebody called you?"

"Libby sent me a message. Is Shorty all right?"

"He’s going to be. He’s in the hospital, in recovery. We’re here in Reno, and Doctor Schmidt talked to him after the catheterization. The cardiologist thinks he’ll make a complete recovery, but it will take time. He performed an angioplasty and opened up the coronary artery, so Shorty’s doing a lot better. We followed him to the hospital and one of us will stay here until he’s released."

"I’ll get there as soon as I can, T. I was going to call you anyway; Libby has disappeared. One minute she was with her mother, then she took off. I wonder if Dad listed Libby’s phone number as the person to call?"

"It’s possible. Maybe that’s what happened, they called her and she messaged you. If we hear anything, Joe, we’ll call.

***

Libby found herself standing, still in her bubble, in a scrubby woodland. Collapsing the bubble, she landed and looked around. The fresh smell of the forest was everywhere. Most of the trees, none nearly so tall as the ones she’d seen around Houston, were evergreens. She recognized junipers, similar in appearance to the ones she’d seen when she traveled around Nevada with Grandpa Shorty. There were none of the smells she associated with people, no woodsmoke, no smell of car exhaust, no food cooking, just the fresh scent of evergreen trees. A gentle breeze sighed, barely noticeable. The ground around her showed no sign of human tracks. Alarmed, Libby wondered where she was. This couldn’t be Little Dry Creek; for that matter, it looked like nowhere she’d ever been!

Veil of Time: Book Four, the Wizards Series

Jack Knapp

Bookapy User License

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

That was a preview of Veil of Time: Book Four, the Wizards Series. To read the rest purchase the book.

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