“This is quite standard for wormhole travel,” Gerri said, her tone conversational despite the impossibility of her words. “We need sufficient distance from the surface to avoid disrupting Earth’s gravitational field.”
Wormhole travel?
The phrase hung in the elevator’s recycled air like a challenge to everything Tess thought she knew about the universe. Theoretical physics had always fascinated her, but she’d never imagined encountering it as a practical transportation option.
Before Tess could argue that this was an impossible method, the elevator doors were opening, and Gerri was rushing down a sterile corridor with Tess’s other suitcase in tow. The corridor stretched ahead like something from a fever dream—white walls leading to a single door marked with an elegant gold nameplate.
G. Wilder.
“One of my many interplanetary offices,” Gerri explained when they reached the door, producing a key with the flourish of a magician revealing their final trick. “Not my real office, obviously. That’s in a location I prefer to keep... confidential.”
The room beyond was aggressively ordinary—a single desk, one chair, bare walls that suggested temporary occupancy at best. Nothing about it screamed “gateway to alien worlds” or “revolutionary transportation hub.” If anything, it looked like the kind of space rented by the hour for clandestine meetings.
What else will I discover when I get to Nova Aurora?
The question echoed through Tess’s mind as she set down her suitcase, her carefully ordered world shifting on foundations she’d thought were solid.
Too late to back out now.
The thought should have been terrifying, but instead it sent a thrill of anticipation through her veins—the same feeling she’d had before every major breakthrough in her career. The sensation of standing at the edge of discovery.
Gerri moved with purpose toward the desk, her boots clicking against the polished floor like a metronome counting down to the impossible. She pulled open the single drawer with the confidence of someone who’d performed this ritual countless times before. But what emerged defied every expectation Tess had harbored about interdimensional travel technology.
A metal egg.
Small enough to fit in Gerri’s palm, unremarkable except for the way it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Tess’s mind immediately began cataloging the object—approximately three inches long, seamless construction, surface that appeared both matte and luminescent simultaneously. Her brain scrambled for rational explanations. Some kind of compressed energy device? A miniaturized fusion reactor? The physics madeno sense, but then again, nothing about this day had adhered to the laws of science she’d spent her career studying.
“How does something that size generate enough energy to?—“
But Gerri was already lifting the egg to her lips, whispering words too soft and melodic for Tess to decipher. The language sounded ancient, otherworldly, like wind through cathedral stones or water over river rocks. Whatever she spoke, it resonated with power that made the air itself vibrate.
The egg responded immediately, lifting from Gerri’s open palm as if gravity had suddenly become optional. It began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until it became a blur of motion that hurt to look at directly. The air in the small room crackled with electricity, raising the fine hairs on Tess’s arms and making her scalp tingle. The sensation reminded her of standing too close to lightning strikes—that moment when the atmosphere held its breath before unleashing raw power.
Then the light came.
Blue and white energy erupted from the spinning egg, not harsh or blinding, but somehow alive. The beams stretched outward, weaving themselves into geometric patterns that expanded until they formed a perfect circle in the center of the room. The portal—because that’s what it unmistakably was—hung suspended like a window punched through reality itself.
Through that impossible doorway, Tess glimpsed another world.
Snow-covered mountains rose like golden sentinels against an alien sky, their peaks catching light from what appeared to be twin suns. The snow itself looked different—bluer somehow, as if it had absorbed the color of an arctic ocean. Purple trees dotted the landscape, their branches heavy with crystalline frost that sparkled like scattered diamonds. The entire scene was beautiful and majestic and utterly foreign.
This is real. This is actually happening.
“Well, if you’re quite finished gawking, we really must be going.” Gerri’s voice cut through Tess’s wonder like a blade through silk. “Prince Korran doesn’t appreciate tardiness, and I’d rather not test his patience on your first meeting.”
Tess realized her mouth was hanging open. She’d just witnessed what amounted to a complete revolution in physics, and she was standing there like a tourist at a magic show. The scientist in her wanted to examine the portal, to understand the energy signatures and dimensional mechanics, but Gerri was already moving.
“Don’t panic in the wormhole,” Gerri said, hefting Tess’s smaller suitcase with surprising ease. “Just relax and enjoy the wonder of it all. Trust me, fighting the sensation only makes it worse.”
Before Tess could ask what sensation she meant, Gerri stepped through the blue circle and vanished as completely as if she’d never existed.
The room fell silent except for the soft hum of energy from the portal. Tess stood alone with her remaining suitcase, staring at the gateway to another world. Every rational instinct screamed at her to turn around, walk back to the elevator, and return to her safe, predictable life in Chicago. She could call Dr. Matthews, make some excuse about the assignment being too dangerous or unconventional. He’d be disappointed, but he’d understand.
Would he, though?
The grant funding was running out. Her job hung by a thread. If she backed out now, she’d be unemployed within weeks, scrambling to find work while her savings dwindled and her rent came due. The stress of uncertainty, of watching her carefully constructed stability crumble—she couldn’t handle that. Not again. Not after losing her mother and feeling so utterly powerless to change anything.
This is your chance to make a difference. To save someone.
