Gatewright (4 page)

A
few hours later, business still dragged.  The door dinged, and I hastily
put back the strategy guide I’d been absorbed in before Darren noticed,
although he was preoccupied getting Shawn’s employment paperwork squared
away.  A customer?

Nope,
definitely nope.  A primly dressed woman in a black skirt and blue
button-up entered the store, followed by a burly man delicately maneuvering a
full-size camera and tripod.  “Channel 9 News” was emblazoned across his
chest in a rainbow of colors.

“What
the hell?”  I murmured, exchanging glances with Shawn and Darren.  Darren
gestured me forward, and Shawn disappeared into a shelf of Assassin’s Creed
figurines.  Abandoned by my friends, I did my version of charging forward
into the fray. “Can I help you, ma’am?” I asked while helping the cameraman get
through the door.  He muttered his thanks shyly.

“Yes,
Shaundra Meyers, Channel 9 News.”  Her voice was beautiful and
melodic.  “Are you Jan Leeman?”

Oh
shit.

I
should have worn makeup today.  “I am, if you have Photoshop in that
camera.”

Her
laugh was genuine, despite my terrible joke.  “I’m so glad we caught up
with you.  Do you have a minute to speak with us about your upcoming
adventure?”

“As
long as it’s ok with my boss.”  I turned to Darren and he nodded
happily.  He probably thought the publicity would be good for our
paychecks.  “Sure.” I shrugged, pretending nonchalance.

Shaundra
thanked me and steered me around the room to find the best lighting and
background, conferring with her cameraman about angles while I anxiously tried
to flatten my brown hair, ending up tying it back into a ponytail.  She
gently shuffled me into the right place, murmuring comforting words about “just
a few questions” and “you’ll be great at this” and “don’t be nervous”.  I
stole a glance at Shawn, silently pleading for an escape route.  He
grinned and gave me two thumbs up.  Yup, this was one reason we didn’t
work out. 
Thanks, Shawn,
I mouthed at him.

Shaundra
popped in an earpiece, and asked me if I was ready.  I nodded and
swallowed hard, and she positioned herself in the bright light of the camera.
 An awkward pause, then she spoke with clear, practiced enunciation.
 “Thank you, Lauren.  We are here with Jan Leeman, one of the first
humans to ever go to Azry.  Jan, how do you feel about that?”  She
pointed her slim microphone at my face.  The light suddenly seemed very
bright.

I’m
not actually the first human, they’ve been kidnapping people long before now.
 
Nope,
couldn’t say that.

Scared
shitless that they’ll drug me, murder me, and brainwash me, possibly in that
order?
 
Nope, bad idea.

“I’m
honored that I was chosen for this opportunity,” I said slowly.  “I hope
to set a positive precedent that will enhance interdimensional
communication.”  I pretended I was doing a surprise thesis defense in my
work clothes. 

“When
did you find out, and how did your family react?” 

“Actually,
I only got the news three days ago.  My family’s very happy that I’m
getting recognized for my work on Azry.”  Well, Nick and Thomas were.

“You
must have had
some
time to start planning.  Can you give us some
insight into what you’ll be bringing?”

“Coffee,”
I responded instantly. I’d gotten about that far on my packing list. 
“Definitely coffee.”

Shaundra
gave another genuine laugh, then asked me seriously, “How do you believe that
Exiles will react to the news of this expedition?”

I
shifted uneasily.  “It depends on the Exile.  I think that whatever
their feelings are on the matter, allowing humans to visit is a good step to
increase travel and commerce between worlds.  Trust will hopefully lead to
a mutually agreeable compromise on where the Exile can reside.”  I
couldn’t see it happening in my lifetime, though.  I felt a little guilty.

“Last,
do you have anything to share with those who believe the fey are dangerous, and
that interdimensional travel should be banned?”

Oh
hell
yes.
 
“I think this line of thinking is xenophobic, and
despite the violence that occurred in the first month of the Gates being
opened, I think we’ve learned incredible things about our universe, humanity,
and could make some amazing things happen if we keep up dialogue and
sharing.  Fear is the enemy, not Azry.”

She
heard the edge of heat in my voice and backed off.  “I don’t think America
could have a better ambassador for this trip.  Thank you, Jan, and on
behalf of all of us at Channel 9, we wish you safe travels.”

I
tried to give her my best smile and prayed there wasn’t any spinach in my
teeth.  “Thank you!”

“Shaundra
Meyers, Channel 9 News.  Back to you, Lauren.”  The light switched
off, and she smiled at me.  “Thanks, Jan.  I appreciate you talking
to us.  We have to sprint back, but if you’re willing, we’d love to have
you come to the studio and have an in-depth interview with you. “

I
was honestly surprised her visit was that fast.  “I’ll think about
it.” 

We
all helped the cameraman out the door this time around. I bid her goodbye and
breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut behind her.

“Well,
I hope that’s the last of that,” I muttered to Darren.  I doubted this
would be my last brush with the media, but I’d already had my fill of it.

I
dodged all other attempts at interviews.  When I did get requests, I
referred them to DIDA.  I knew exactly who to sic the reporters on. 
Granted, it was Kelsey’s job to deal with these sorts of inquiries, but I’d
never liked her in the first place so didn’t feel terribly guilty when I
mischievously told them that persistence was key.

The
whole thing seemed unreal.  Azry had always seemed so far away, and I’d
never considered I’d actually get the chance to go there.  It was a dream,
a figment of my imagination. 
A bit of underdone potato
, I thought
in an English accent, thinking of the old movie
Scrooge. 
Even the
media seemed like they had a hard time believing it.  Experts crowded the
news stations with opinions about what this invitation implied, making what was
first a straightforward idea into another point of controversy.

I
made the mistake of flipping through the channels, and getting plenty of
perspectives on the issue.  “…American citizens we’re talking about, we
can’t just send them without any protection
…“
Flip
. 
“…brainwash them, or send back sleeper agents or…”
Flip. 
“…Exiles
might protest…”
Flip. 
“…great step forward for Azry/Earth
relations…”
Flip. 
“…China and Russia are protesting DIDA’s
approval of the trip, claiming the U.S. does not have jurisdiction over
interdimensional agreements….” 
Flip. 
I wasn’t sure if it
terrified me or exhausted me that so many people were so invested in my little
trip.

I
spent the next few days awkwardly training Shawn, making lists of what I needed
to take, and spending time with Jack.  Jack did his best to prepare me,
and at least I had a solid foundation from all my studies.  I’d be
surprised if any of the other tourists knew what they were walking into better
than I did right then, with the exception of Kim. 

I
stopped by Daedalus Bookshop, one of my favorite local spots, and chose an
ornate journal to be my one true love on the trip.  I packed three pencils
(I lost them on a weekly basis), bought a lovely French press, and squeezed
four pounds of ground coffee into my backpack.  If I ran out, it would be
a dark day indeed.

Was
I taking too much?  A Google search of “what to bring to Azry” was not at
all productive.  General travel checklists asked me questions such as
‘will you be swimming?’ and ‘will you be attending formal events?’, none of
which I could answer with any confidence.  Shawn procured an Epi-Pen for
me, in case I was allergic to high doses of magic (although I’d never heard of
such a thing).  Jack gave me a thin, 6” stiletto spring-assisted
switchblade, and, winking, told me I could slip it past security.

“No
way the fey will miss this,” I told him flatly.

“Yes,
they will,” he insisted. “The last thing a fey would do to a new guest is pat them
down.  I guarantee it.  Just make sure it doesn’t show when you go
through security.  Then again, if you insist on a pat down, there’s going
to be a mortified fey.  If it wasn’t so important for you to have this,
I’d highly encourage you to try that.  Mortified fey are so entertaining.”

“Remind
me to mortify you sometime.”

He
grinned.  “I dare you.”

I
didn’t take the bait, but filed it away in the back of my head.  There had
got
to be some dirt on him I could dig up. I shook my head at the knife
in my hand and tried to pass it back to him.  “And what exactly am I
supposed to do with this, other than maybe open packages?  It’s more like
a letter opener on steroids than a weapon.”

“I
hope you
don’t
have to use it, but if you do, aim for the
kidneys.”  He touched his sides, in the same places as human
kidneys.  It was nice to know that fey biology more or less matched
ours.  “Keep in mind the knife will probably just bounce off the ribcage
if you aim for the heart,” he added helpfully.

“How
the hell do you know that?”  I exclaimed, and wondered who had pissed him
off.

“I
took martial arts classes.”

“Uh
huh.  I don’t think Tao Kwon Do teaches knife fighting.”

Jack
chewed on that before answering.  “I took a few extra classes in other
things, too,” he admitted, but then sighed loudly.  “I can practically
hear you thinking, Jan… this wasn’t something I knew before I came here. 
This is something I learned because Earth is fucking violent.”

I
could accept that, although Azry had its moments too.  It was a sign of
how much I trusted him that I actually took the knife.  My boot would be
an easy giveaway if they made me take off my shoes, so I clipped it handily
against the back of my jeans.  The folded knife lay unobtrusively against
the small of my back, and my shirt disguised even the clip itself.

By
the time my departure came around, I had one large rolling suitcase that I
probably could have lived in, and my grad school backpack stuffed to the
gills.  Darren gave me a pile of coupons for the store that apparently I
was supposed to distribute to the fey.  Somehow.  I considered
leaving them in the recycling bin at home, but ended up putting them in my
pack.  Fey were very partial to bargains, that much was true.  The
amount of money they generally spent at our store was almost sad.  They
didn’t even have electricity in Azry, much less WiFi.

But
they always had cash.  It had taken quite a bit of nosing around to figure
out how that worked.  Fey mages that worked with the earth,
elohi
,
extracted some of the rare metals in their world that we needed for tech in our
world.  They sold yttrium, neodymium, europium, dysprosium, and terbium to
us at very reasonable prices, since the metal had no particular value to
them.  What they must think of us, that we were so obsessed with shiny
rocks.

The
metals funded the goodwill that kept the gate open.  Without them, the fey
presented nothing but the dangerous unknown to the general public.  The
government was quite fond of the economic advantages the steady supply
provided.  In turn, the fey seemed happy enough with the status quo, even
if they craved our technology.  Why possibly rock the boat by sending in
tourists?  Did the fey have another agenda?

My
mother asked nervous questions: where was I going?  Who else was going?
Was I sure I was safe?  I bent the truth as far as I could to reassure her
I was returning in one piece.  Nicholas had done a good job calming her
down and keeping her that way.  Thomas sent me text messages about how if
I got hurt, our mom would never let him leave the house again, so I had better
come back for his sake.  I wasn’t offended in the slightest by his
self-centered behavior… I read between the lines well enough to know he was
genuinely concerned.  He was certainly looking forward to having my place
to himself, so much so I was a little nervous.  Maybe I should have let
Jack or Rose look after my place.

The
afternoon before I left, my mother stopped by the apartment to hug me until I
thought my ribs would crack and then demanded that I follow all of Jack’s
instructions.  Of course she’d been talking to him.

The
year I’d met Jack, I’d invited him to Christmas dinner with the family. 
Clarifying afterwards that the older man I’d brought was
not
a potential
boyfriend had been a lengthy (and in the case of my mother, an ongoing)
process.  Yet, through most of grad school, when she couldn’t get a hold
of me, she’d called Jack instead of Rose.  Considering Rose lied through
her teeth to get me out of trouble, it was probably a smart idea.  Poor
Jack.

The
night before I left,
Rose
tearfully presented me a
finely-crafted necklace of woven metal in the shape of interconnected roses.
 Small pearls dotted the center of each tiny rose.  I was surprised
to learn she’d made it herself; she’d clearly been learning in her weekend fey
classes.  “I wanted you to have something from home.”  She tried to
justify spoiling me.  “And let me guess, you don’t have a single piece of
jewelry packed, do you?”

I
grinned at her.  “You know me all too well.  Thank you.”

Rose
cried a lot in general… at movies, when she was happy, when she was sad, when a
kitten was too cute, so that didn’t surprise me.  “I’m so happy for you!”
she sobbed into my chest as she wished me goodbye.  But it was the way she
gripped me that clued me in she was nervous.  I held her closely, our
unspoken fears hanging in the air alongside my wildest hopes.