Traveler L.E. DeLano (bookreader .txt) 📖

he explains. “Just be careful. You don’t want to create a major ripple event that might take a lot of effort to undo.”

I wince a little. “You know about my other traveling?”

Mario gives me a very knowing look. “I know everything about you, Jessa. And I know everything about every Jessa.”

“You’re not mad?”

He shrugs. “It’s expected. Just be smart about it. Now … on to the next lesson,” he says, walking over to the red door. “Come along.”

He opens the door, and I get up from the desk to walk over.

“Where are we going this time? I ask.

“Back to the dreamscape,” he says, opening the red door. “To the stadium. I set up a scenario for training purposes earlier today. We’re going to watch a replay.”

“What?”

“You’ll see,” he says. “Let’s wait over here.”

This time, Mario is a young, very attractive Latino with biceps to die for. He’s wearing a tight muscle shirt and sunglasses, and women are glancing at him as they shuffle past.

“Nice look,” I say.

“A favorite of mine,” he replies, with a nod at an attractive redhead who stares a little too long.

Suddenly, the redhead plows into the man in front of her, because he plowed into the couple in front of him, and they stopped short because a middle-aged man with a ponytail and a team jersey has come to a dead halt, trying to scrape some gum off his shoe.

He doesn’t seem to notice the furor he’s caused, and a few of the people give him dirty looks as they make their way around him. He finally cleans his shoe off and everyone’s moving smoothly again.

“For a minute there I thought she was stopping because of you,” I said to Mario.

“She was—inadvertently.”

Realization begins to dawn. “You set the guy up with the gum.”

“That’s right. See?” he says. “Simple. A piece of gum and wheels are set in motion. In and out and it’s done.”

He motions me over to the door, and we step back through, into the classroom.

“What was the point of that?” I ask. “How did it massively alter anybody’s reality to be mildly inconvenienced for a couple of seconds?”

“It was long enough for the man in front of the redhead to reach into the purse of the woman in front of him,” Mario says. “He stole her wallet.”

My eyes widen. “You helped him steal a wallet?”

“I did,” he says without remorse. “And if that were reality, it would set off an entire chain of events that would curb several dozen other events that would have splintered and formed over seventy new reality streams.”

“So these … corrections keep things in check?”

“That’s what most of our work is about. The realities keep expanding, and adjustments are a necessity.”

“I don’t even want to know how you manage to keep track of all this stuff.” My mind is boggling at the thought of endless realities and endless possibilities. “Do you ever get any downtime? Ever?”

“Now you know why I try on new looks for entertainment,” he remarks drily. “It’s not like I can book a cruise.”

“You need a spa day.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighs. “But I’ll settle for getting you into a nice, mundane reality where no one’s trying to kill you. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me,” I say.

Well, the not-getting-killed part. I’m starting to get really tired of being mundane.

I’m beginning to think this traveling stuff might be the answer to my prayers—once it stops being such a curse.

Not long after I wake on Thursday, Finn is at the door with a scone and coffee from Mugsy’s, hoping to cheer me up.

“Thank God you’re here,” I gripe. “Mom and Danny are out and I swear to God, there is nothing to watch on daytime TV.”

“You’re looking great,” he remarks, setting my goodies down. “You look better rested, at least.”

“No thanks to Mario. He started my classes last night.”

“How’d it go?”

I shrug. “Fine, I guess. I was just getting rules and observing. He knows about my unauthorized travel, by the way.”

“Of course he does,” Finn says. “And as long as you’re careful, it’s not a big deal.”

My eyes light up with a sudden idea. “Hey, can we … go somewhere?”

He considers a moment. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“It’s too early for glitter mousse.”

Finn raises his eyebrows. “It’s never too early for glitter mousse.”

“Somewhere new,” I say. “Surprise me.” I hold up a hand. “But in a good way.”

“I have a few places in mind,” he says. “Let’s put in a call.”

He tugs me to my feet by my good arm, and we head up to my bedroom. It takes a little longer this time—nearly ten minutes—before we get a response, and then we are through.

I am standing next to Finn, looking at myself in the side mirror of a van. Before us is a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean, and there are people about, but not many. We are both wearing wet suits.

“Looks like we might have another couple of hours at most before it rains,” comes a voice from behind me. I look over my shoulder at my father, who is carrying equipment.

“Maisie had better be in a talkative mood today,” he goes on. “Last time I didn’t get anything I could use. It’s like she’s playing mind games with us, I swear.”

“Do you need some help?” I ask.

My dad smiles. “You and Finn get the rest of the stuff,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads back to the van.

“My father is a scientist,” I murmur. That doesn’t seem right, and yet I know it is. He doesn’t work at a wastewater treatment facility. Here, he is a marine biologist and part of an ongoing dolphin study that maps their language and actually communicates with them.

“Yes, he is,” says Finn. “And I’m interning with him. It’s how we met.”

We carry the equipment over to the edge of a short cliff that hangs out over the water, and Finn tells me he has to get the boat ready. I get the digital video camera out