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Daniel woke with a start, first aware he hadn’t had a single dream through the night, then of Murphy entering the room with a cup of steaming liquid and several muffins on a tray.
“I sent Foster on ahead, so he could get his ship ready. Hope you slept well.”
Daniel pushed the blanket aside and rubbed his eyes, blinking the room back into focus. “Yeah, I guess.”
Murphy set the tray on the long table in front of the couch. “But you’re still in Ether, is what you’re thinking?”
“I was hoping to wake up,” Daniel admitted.
“You mean, wake up someplace else,” Murphy gave a quick snort. “I can see how this is all pretty strange, but that’s only because your uncle failed to explain it all. Or, perhaps he meant to leave that key with someone else?”
That was a thought he hadn’t wanted to give time to. He had cousins, sure, but not one of them had spent much time with Frank after growing up. They all had families of their own taking up their time. The house, the car, everything Frank had was left to him in the will, just no mention of the key.
“Are there people here who pass on keys? I mean, if people in my world have keys to Ether . . .”
Murphy shrugged. “If there are, they’re a mighty big secret. I’ve met very few people who even believe Otherworld is real, and never once have I heard rumor of a key taking folk from here to there.”
Of course not, that would have made the crazy journey unnecessary. Daniel was convinced now of only one thing – whatever was really happening to him, the only way out of it was to play along. He used the bathroom across the hall, had a shower, then ate breakfast while the sheriff put together a travel pack for him.
“You’ll find some clothes your size in there,” Murphy announced as he deposited a leather duffel next to Daniel. “And you’ll want this.” He draped a brown trench coat over the arm of the couch. “There are other supplies in the bag you’ll find pretty handy, and I threw in a new toothbrush.”
“You’re not coming along?”
“Too many duties here, but no worries. You and Ian will do just fine together.” Murphy winked, but before Daniel could question that, he motioned to the door. “Best be going. I’ll take you to the docks. I sent Ian off last night so he could stock up on supplies.”
Daniel hefted the duffel bag and followed Murphy through the office, past the two empty cells, and out to the sidewalk. There was a car waiting there, a large black vehicle with four doors and steam pipes sticking out from the side of the hood. It looked like a cross between an old thirties gangster car and a steam powered train, but with shiny silver hub caps and a plethora of lights and gauges on the dash.
He tossed the duffel into the back, then slid into the plush leather on the passenger side of the long bench seat. Murphy didn’t use a key, but instead punched several buttons on the dash. The engine responded instantly with a deep, meaty grumble and a quick puff of steam.
They pulled away from the curb, then made a turn onto a main road, heading back the same way the officers had led him in the night before. Daniel looked around, noting the height of the bulky, stone buildings. There were window displays filled with the latest fashions, most of which seemed to be darker tones and natural fibers, most with leather accents. Though many of the pedestrians they passed were more colorfully attired.
The shops themselves seemed normal enough to make Daniel rethink looking for a phone and calling his uncle’s lawyer to pick him up, but there was a quality to the city Daniel couldn’t put a finger on. An odd sense of being out of time and space, like he was watching an old favorite movie but through tinted glasses, distorting the edges and casting an unfamiliar hue all around.
They hadn’t traveled more than two miles when Murphy took a left and pointed to an open area ahead.
“Ian should have things ready by now.”
“Let me ask you, if this guy is wanted, why is it he’s so willing to take me to the castle to find this key”
Murphy found a parking space underneath a long, shaded pergola and shut off the engine. “I’m paying him to do it.”
“Paying him?” Visions of being led out into the desert and left to die flashed through his mind.
“Half now,” Murphy explained. “Then half when he gets back.”
“And you’re convinced he won’t just take me out somewhere, then come back and collect?”
Murphy laughed. “You’ve got a suspicious mind, for a doctor.”
“I was trained by the Air Force. It’s survival, not suspicion driving me.”
“Well, no worries. He has to bring proof. And before you ask, trust me, once you get that key you’ll see how to get back to me with proof.” Murphy got out of the car and Daniel followed, retrieving the duffel bag from the backseat. "I know it's asking a lot from you in these circumstances, but believe me when I say you can trust Ian."
They were walking along a covered boardwalk now, with small kiosks spaced every twenty yards or so. At each station, the boardwalk sent a short section out at ring angles spanning several feet, but there was no water in sight, only a wide stretch of dirt that gradually turned to scrub, then trees in the distance.
Murphy stopped at one of the kiosks and Daniel saw several buttons lit from beneath, a round speaker, and an old fashioned microphone handset. The sheriff pushed a few buttons, then lifted the handset and spoke into it.
"Foster, we're here." Without waiting for a reply, he put the microphone back on its cradle and turned to Daniel. "Your uncle, did he wear a silver bracelet, with a flat section that had engraving on it?"
Daniel blinked. "Yes, he did. My aunt gave that to him on their first wedding anniversary, two months before she died." He eyed Murphy warily. "You did know him, then?"
"I may have," Murphy admitted. "It was years ago, back when I worked in the castle, I meant a man from Otherworld with a bracelet like that. I only wish I'd seen him more often, gotten to know him. Perhaps then I could have been more help."
Unsure how this new twist was supposed to fit into the odd fantasy, Daniel shook his head and looked around. "Okay, so where's this ship of his?"
Murphy stepped out from over the walkway's cover and pointed up.
As Daniel followed, he heard the whir of hydraulics coming from above. "My God."
Above him, hovering like massive helium balloon, was an old pirate ship. Or at least, that's what it looked like. He was staring up at a wooden hull, while a large square section of it was lowering itself down toward him, supported by metal cables. Above that, he saw a massive zeppelin, and ropes snaking down in a spider-webbed network that secured the behemoth to the ship. It was a near-perfect replica of the model his uncle loved so dearly, only this one was life sized and even more detailed. As the platform drew closer, he saw Ian Foster standing on it, looking rather annoyed.
"I'm inside a Jules Vern novel." Daniel couldn't take his eyes off the sight. A ship. A wooden ship. No, a brass-plated wooden pirate ship, was floating in the sky directly above his head! His uncle's toy, come to life and hovering directly above him, full sized.
The platform came to a stop at the edge of the short walkway, and Ian pushed aside a safety bar, offering Daniel room on the lift beside him.
"Okay, Murphy, you win. But I'm holding you to that payment."
"Foster, have I ever lied to you?"
"Not outright," Ian replied. "Hop on board -- Daniel, was it?"
Daniel tossed his duffel bag onto the platform and stepped up. "Yeah," he replied numbly as he continued to stare up at the massive brass-plated ship's hull.
"Well Daniel, let's get moving." Ian brought the safety bar back over and gave Murphy a curt nod. "If I get caught on this one, it'll be on your head, sheriff."
"This one?" Daniel asked as they started up, slowly advancing toward the looming ship above.
"Murphy likes to take in strays, and involve me in their care and maintenance," Ian replied. "I suppose he imagines I'm one of them."
The lift entered the belly of the ship and the bottom of the platform became the decking of the hold with a sudden, jerking stop. A puff of steam belched from a large wheel to their left where the excess cable had been wound.
"Welcome aboard the Myst." Ian pushed aside the bar and stepped off the platform, raising his arm to indicate the large wooden vessel. "She's small, but solid, and pretty damn comfortable, if you ask me."
Daniel numbly stepped off the platform in a haze. He knew he was staring, and was pretty sure his jaw was open, but he didn't care. The hold of the Myst was exactly the way he'd imagined it would be, with wood planking arched up both sides, braided ropes acting as cargo retainers and oil-filled lanterns hanging from stocky wooden beams. There was no creaking as you would expect on a ship as it moved and bent with the fluidity of the sea, but no odd sensation of the great height they had attained, either.
"You comin'?"
Awed by the sight, Daniel stumbled after Ian, lugging his duffel bag over one shoulder as the man continued toward a bank of stairs.
"There's no crew, just us. That's what I like about a ship her size."
The explanations continued up the steps, and Daniel could hardly wait to see the rest of the airship, to see if it would match his boyhood imagination.
"She'll get us to the forest in three days, if there's no wind. Two if we get a push and don't run into trouble crossing the mist."
The stairs opened up mid deck, alongside a walkway bordered by rounded wooden doors with portholes rimmed in shiny brass metal. Daniel peered through one of them as they passed and saw more cargo, including a rack of odd-looking weapons stowed in racks along the far wall.
"At the forest, we'll be on foot the rest of the journey, so I hope you can handle long walks." The corridor terminated in front of another door, and Ian stopped, pointing to a door to their right. "You can bunk in here." He turned and pointed to the door opposite the corridor. "This one's mine. And here," he pointed to the door directly in front of them. "Is the map room, galley, and pretty much everything else room."
Before Daniel could respond, Ian took the duffel from his shoulder, opened the door on their right, and stepped into the cabin. There was a bunk with a thick mattress and several blankets on the right, where he tossed the leather duffel bag. On the other side was a desk and an oil lamp, matching one that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. Beside an elaborately carved dresser stood a comfortable looking chair, and two port holes showing the blue sky outside.
Daniel had barely registered it all when Ian motioned for him to follow, and left the room, heading back down the corridor they'd just traversed. They passed the stairwell that had brought them up from the hold and ended up on the open deck of the ship.
As they stepped out into the sunlight, Daniel felt his breath catch in his lungs. The deck -- the ropes snaking down from the massive zeppelin above -- even the guard rail and large fan paddles jutting out from the stern were exactly like the model on his uncle's bookshelf. It was as if someone had miniaturized him, and set him on the deck of that toy.
The wheel that gave orders to the large fans was wood, but rimmed with brass like the portholes. Even the railing was trimmed in brass, matching an intricate gyroscope in the center of the deck near the bow of the ship. Above him, the oblong balloon was completely sealed, held in place by a complex series of ropes connected to the deck on either side. In the center, right at mid-ship, a heavy beam rose up about ten feet, topped off with a crows nest twice the size of a normal sailing ship's lookout. There was a set of brass ladder rungs leading up to the platform, and Daniel could see a brass telescope fixed there.
"This isn't like a hot air balloon then?" He couldn't find any source of heat, or even access to the insides of the balloon as he looked up at it in wonder. "How does it work?"
"Hot air is unreliable. Just try and maintain your altitude with hot air," Ian's reply was tinted heavily with the tone of experience having to explain the obvious to a novice.
Daniel dragged his gaze from the magnificent balloon to look at Ian. "So you're completely dependant on the wind? And what powered that lift? I haven't seen any power source, but it sounded like hydraulics and I definitely saw steam coming out of that pulley. What keeps us hovering like this?" He felt like a kid in a toy store, only now he was the size of the toy, and the toys were real, working machines.
"The wind? No, we're using captured Helios, like everyone else." Ian blinked, then crossed his arms and seemed to take a closer look at Daniel. "You're really not from here, then? I mean, seriously."
Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but Ian held up a hand.
"That's right, you still think this whole world is in your head. Ether, me, this ship, we're all just some kind of illusion or something, yeah?" He huffed, then turned and walked to the stern where he began untying a heavy rope. "That quality isn't exactly conjuring up any sort of sympathy from me, I hope you realize." He loosened a knot and tossed the line overboard, then crossed the deck where another rope anchored the Myst to the ground below. "Telling someone his entire life, his existence, everything he's ever known, is really nothing more than another guy's head trauma. You try swallowing that one."
"Have a look at this from my point of view," Daniel offered, realizing with a bit of embarrassment that he really had offended this man. "You wouldn't believe what you were seeing if you'd stepped through a door into my world, would you? One minute you're opening the door to your uncle's cellar, the next you've stepped into traffic in the middle of a busy street. There I was, just getting settled for the evening with a cup of tea, next thing I know a car nearly hits me, and two police officers are hustling me off to see a sheriff because I left my wallet on the nightstand." Daniel shook his head. "You don’t believe Otherworld is real, so you can imagine how I would think Ether was a little hard to swallow."
"This ship look real to you?" Ian slapped a hand down on the brass covered railing. "Sound real to you?" With a swift motion, he drew what looked like a gun from his belt, then tossed it to Daniel. "That feel real enough to you?"
Taken by surprise, Daniel stared down at the weapon he'd caught. It was the size of a pistol, but it wasn't a gun at all, it was a crossbow. The solid black metal barrel sported a bow string in a slack position, where a nasty looking, multi-point arrow rested, ready for a command from the trigger on the hand grip. He'd never seen anything quite like it, but did recall a few friends in the Army who'd hunted with the larger, more standard crossbows. They'd always said it was much more sporting to hunt and kill innocent deer and elk the old fashioned way.
He slid his hand into the grip position, then raised the weapon, aiming away from Ian. "Yes, it does feel real." Closing one eye, he sighted down the short barrel. "And you look real, and this ship is real, and everything Ether is appears very real." He held his breath and set his finger on the trigger, then suddenly released, bending his elbow and drawing the gun up with a heavy sigh. "So let's strike a deal." He flipped the gun around in his hand, then lobbed it back to Ian with a casual toss. "For the duration of this little journey we're on, I'll believe you, you'll believe me."
Ian caught the weapon easily, checked the safety, then hooked it back on his belt with a shrug. "Sounds like a compromise," he shrugged. "I can do that. For the duration, anyway."
The airship, now freed from its tethers, began drifting very slowly on the slight breeze.
"So, I can assume this adventure we're about to embark on will be fraught with untold dangers?" Daniel asked, trying to lighten the mood without giving away any sense that his giddy boyhood adventure fantasies were returning in a happy rush.
"Not exactly," Ian replied with a shrug. "I'll tell you about them. But first things first." He nodded back the way they'd come and started for the interior hatchway. "Since, for the duration anyway, I should assume you don't know how these things work, I'd best show you."
Daniel followed dutifully as they returned back through the ship and down to the hold where they'd started. This time he took a more careful look around, touching the wood now and again to reassure himself of it's reality. In the hold, he noticed a rather large contraption at the far stern of the space. It looked like a large boiler, plated in brass and rumbling somewhat quietly to itself, but when Ian pulled open the small door, the resemblance ended.
Inside was a shelf, and with a press of a button on the door, a flat panel slid outward, exposing two rows of crystals. The set on the left were red, and the set on the left blue, but both sets sported two completely white at the far end of their rows.
"Fire, and ice," Ian explained, pointing to the red, then the blue crystals. "Each set gives us about eight hours of regular speed. If we have to fight the wind, or do anything unusual, they'll be used up faster." He reached out and pulled the two white crystals from their holders. "These are drained, they go in here."
Daniel watched as he tossed the white crystals into a barrel at the back of the machine. It was about a quarter full of white, apparently spent crystals, and beside it were two other containers holding the reds and blues separately.
Ian lifted one of each. "Make sure they never touch, or you'll get a steam burn you won't easily forget." He placed the red and blue crystals in the vacant slots, then pressed the button and the panel pulled back into the machine. Before he let the door close, Ian pointed in at the panel. "When the door closes, they cycle, and we can call on the power from anywhere in the ship. She's powered by the steam, just like the lift that brought you up, and the kitchen that cooks our meals."
"So exactly what are those crystals?" He walked up to the barrels and peered down at the blue ones, then gingerly reached out and touched one with a finger.
"Fire, and ice," Ian replied. "Power crystals, mined from the mountain ranges. You can touch them both, they're harmless unless they touch." He picked up a red one and tossed it up and down, then handed it over.
Daniel took the red crystal and looked at it closely. It was solid, and smooth -- almost cold to the touch -- and deep, blood red. "So, when this touches ice, it heats up and ice cools off, and steam is produced? Are there others? Other colors that do other things?"
Ian took a breath, and Daniel could almost imagine him counting to ten before responding.
"Several, but mostly we just use fire and ice. Healers -- or whatever it was you called yourself -- they use others."
Daniel handed back the red crystal. "Doctor," he replied. "We're called Doctors where I come from."
"Okay, but for the duration, if anyone should ask, I suggest you tell them you're a Healer. Not many people believe in Otherworld around here, and they might take you for a little nuts. No offense."
"None taken," Daniel huffed. He'd never been insulted by a figment of his imagination before.
Ian gave a slightly apologetic raise of one eyebrow, then turned and headed back up to the deck. When he got to the large wheel at the raised section of the stern, he pointed to a gear shift jutting up from the decking. It had a trigger grip, and a slot that allowed forward and reverse movement.
Gripping the trigger caused the ship to emit a sudden, deep rumble, followed by a puff of steam from below that vented out through the massive fan blades behind them. Daniel watched with complete fascination as the Myst began moving forward, floating through the air on a prescribed course as easily as one sails a toy over calm, still waters.
"It's pretty basic, as you can see. We have forward, and reverse, and that's about it. Speed's your only variable, and things can get tricky in heavy wind. But if need be, I think you could handle the ship."
Daniel managed a semi-coherent nod. He'd caught sight of the city behind them, then stepped to the edge and glanced down at the docks below as they began slipping further out of sight.
"This is exactly how I imagined it would be," he said happily. "When I was a kid, playing with that toy my uncle had -- it was a model of a ship just like this -- I'd put myself on the deck and imagine flying through the air just like this."
"A toy?"
He turned to Ian and shrugged. "A toy, yes. This ship was one of many toys my uncle had, only he said they were souvenirs from his travels. To us, they were toys."
Ian laughed shortly as he made a slight adjustment to the steering wheel. "That's nice. My ship was a toy for some snot-nosed kid to play fantasy with." He looked at Daniel. "Okay, so in the interests of playing along here, what exactly did your uncle tell you about Ether?"
"He never said it was Ether," Daniel corrected. "He wouldn't really tell us where he'd been, or maybe we never really cared to ask. Everyone in the family treated Uncle Frank like the eccentric I thought he was."
"Only he wasn't, was he? He was just a man with a key to my world, who came here now and then and brought souvenirs back with him. Back to a family who thought he was nuts, apparently."
Daniel opened his mouth to correct Ian's remark, but the truth made him hesitate. "I suppose so," he admitted. "I was too interested in what he'd brought back from those trips than where he'd been. Then, when I was older, I guess I'd come to realize he was making it all up." He turned back to his view of the city as the massive buildings slowly shrank in the distance. "Obviously he wasn't."
They flew in silence for a half hour, while Daniel stared back at the strange city. His first impression had been one of huge, ugly cement buildings with dark, depressing streets, but as they continued to move further away his opinion was changing. The buildings were extremely tall, and crammed impossibly close together, but the windows reflecting the sunlight were tinted in lovely shades of greens and blues, giving the city a jeweled appearance. He wondered if it would still be in view when the sun set.
"You can climb up, if you want to have a look around."
Daniel turned to Ian, then saw he was pointing to the platform suspended ten feet above the deck mid ship. He felt a little guilty, not helping out or anything, but like Foster said, the ship didn't take all that much work to run.
His guilt was completely forgotten by the time he was halfway up the ladder rungs to the large platform. The steps led to the near edge, then a railing waist high provided the visitor with a sense of stability required when you caught that first glance. He was ten feet above the deck of a sailing ship already a decent forty feet above the ground, with nothing above him except a massive balloon and ropes he couldn't reach from there.
The spyglass attached to the railing was on a telescoping pole that stretched easily up to his eye, then a second lens unfolded, making the view scope binocular and much more comfortable to use. With that, he could still draw the city in close enough to make out cars along the outskirts, and people walking down the docks to other ships docked and floating at the ready.
The sight was breathtaking. To their stern, the city grew smaller by the minute, yet its importance seemed to grow, like a lighthouse promising safe harbor. Off the port side and the starboard the view was similar as fields of farmland stretched on for miles and miles. There were homes, he assumed farmers caring for the crops and the herds of cattle roaming in several grassy areas. Off their bow stretched more farmland, then what looked like a wild section of overgrowth and rivers.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, scanning the horizon and drinking in the views, but when Ian asked if he'd like a turn at the helm, he had to work out a kink in his back before he could take the steps back down to the deck.
"It's as easy as walking," Ian explained, pointing to the large gyroscope mid-deck. "Just keep us heading due north. That's with all the parallel arms lined up." He adjusted the large wheel and several arms of the gyroscope swung out of alignment.
"Got it," Daniel replied, holding back a boyish grin.
"I'm gonna go below and get dinner started."
Daniel took the helm, nodding absently at Ian who huffed and moved aside. The large wheel was solid, made of some type of heavy wood that smelled faintly of oak. There was no resistance from the massive fans spinning in the transom like he would have expected from the rudder of a ship at sea, but that made keeping the large ship on course surprisingly difficult. So far that day there had been only a light breeze, but Daniel could see how a strong wind could make for a treacherous voyage.
He gripped the wood, looking at his hands. It felt as real as anything, but how often had he awoken from a dream only to be amazed at how real it had felt?
Although, he had to admit in not one of those dreams had he ever felt hunger, or slept and woke during that same dream.
"So, if this isn't a dream . . ." He wasn't sure if he was ready to admit Ether could, maybe, perhaps be real after all.
"Are you still on about that dream business?"
Daniel looked up as Ian came back on deck and walked purposefully to the stern. "Just musing out loud."
"Well why don't you muse yourself over to that anchor rope and let it loose. Dinner's ready and we should anchor down here for the night."
Daniel glanced at the intricate-looking knot Ian had just stepped up to, then quickly located a matching knot on the opposite side of the stern and walked to it. "You know, if there really is a key, and it can take me back home, I should take you with me." He found the knot, glanced over his shoulder to see Ian pull a center peg, then followed suit. "See how you fare when you're faced with stuff I consider every-day."
Pulling the peg resulted in a rapid de-knotting of the coil. There was a rushing sound, and the faint whistle of something large falling through the air. Daniel hurried to the rail and leaned over just in time to see the massive anchor hit the ground with a puff of dust that would have made Wyle E. Coyote proud.
"Two more, aft." Ian waved an arm and walked up the port side.
As Daniel hurried to his assigned second anchor, a thought occurred to him. "Did you know there was nothing below us? I mean, has anyone ever dropped an anchor through someone's house?"
Ian laughed as he pulled the second knot free. "Not me, no. But I know a guy who sent one right through a farmer's barn. Took him half the year hauling freight to pay for the damages."
Daniel glanced over the side again, assuring himself there was nothing below before he pulled the pin and sent the fourth anchor flying down to the dirt. He watched the puff of dust with fascination.
"You hungry?"
Ian started below, and Daniel followed. The voice in the back of his mind took note of how much time had passed since falling down those steps into the cellar, then added the meals and full night sleep he'd had on Murphy's couch. As he stepped into the galley and the smells of cooked meat filled his senses, the voice in his head was convinced.
"This really is real," he declared, mostly to himself, although Ian did snort as he took a seat at the table.
"The meal, or Ether?"
"I just -- " Daniel paused as he reached for a slice of some type of meat, smelling it carefully before putting it on his plate. "You have to understand, logically this is impossible." He picked up the fork and started slicing into the browned meat.
"Never did worry too much about logic, myself," Ian replied. "I tried once. Logic dictated that a son wouldn't be able to murder his father and get away with it."
"Logic has nothing to do with murder." Daniel tasted the meat. The texture and color was similar to steak, but the taste was -- he almost hated to admit -- much more like chicken. His years in the military had taught him if his nose appreciated it, and his taste buds weren't protesting, it was best not to ask exactly what he was eating. "But logic does dictate there's no such thing as a key that can transport someone to another world."
Ian shrugged. "You don't have to convince me." He raised a fork and waved a piece of an orange fruit around. "I still think Otherworld is a fantasy, and you're suffering some head trauma. But beating that dead horse won't get me any closer to finishing this trip and getting paid."
"What I don't understand is, okay, let's say I stretch my imagination enough to conceive of an aspect to science no one's ever heard of before," Daniel continued. "How did my uncle figure it out?"
"Someone gave him the key?"
"But who?"
"What did he do for a living? Was he a healer, too?"
Daniel shook his head and tried the fruit. "No, he dealt in antiques, mostly." A light bulb popped into his head. "Of course, that must be it. He came across that key by accident, probably in one of his deals."
"Which just means someone else had the key and lost it. Or didn't bother passing it on." Ian huffed. "And now you've got me doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Believing you."
Daniel laughed shortly. "Don't suppose you could explain it, then?"
Ian shrugged. "No help there," he replied. "But if your uncle never told you about the key, maybe he didn't mean for you to have it?"
That question stopped him cold.
"It just seems to me, something that important, he'd have left a note if nothing else," Ian added. "Unless he was forgetful in his later years?"
"No, not at all." Daniel stabbed more meat with his fork in frustration. "He wrote me letters every week, he could have mentioned something then." And maybe he had, in a letter still floating around the military's lost mail loop. "I don't even know when he might have used it last. But my cousins, they've all married and lost touch. I was the only close family my uncle had in the last ten years of his life."
They finished the meal in silence as Daniel pondered the issue unsuccessfully. Logic dictated this was all in his head, but the evidence in his own eyes suggested otherwise. No dream, no matter how vivid, could possibly measure up to what he was experiencing. But by the same token, nothing in his understanding of physics could explain where he was, or how he'd gotten there.
After the meal, Ian refused Daniel's offer to help clean up, so he went back out on deck. The sun had set, but the city they'd left that morning was already too far away for any light to reach them. A quick glance over the railing showed no farms or houses nearby with a warm glow of firelight to pierce the darkness.
He looked up at the night sky. Already a myriad of stars were visible, twinkling against the velvet of space, with more shining through every minute. It reminded him of long summer nights at Uncle Frank's farm, sleeping outside, staring up at the stars until his eyelids were too heavy. Daniel never had been very good at picking out constellations, aside from the obvious Big and Little Dipper, occasionally Mars, or what he assumed was Mars when the weatherman told them it would be visible.
He could have been looking at any bright star those nights, it didn't matter. They each held wonder and mystery, fueling his already active imagination. But looking up there now, the only familiar sight was a sky filled with sparkling lights. He couldn't find a Big or Little Dipper, no sign of any North Star or Mars anywhere he could identify.
And the three moons climbing up over the horizon weren't helping one bit.
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