Authors: Sharon Lynn Fisher
Echo 8 (33 page)
Jake and Eva exchanged a glance, and Eva turned and walked back toward the ruin. Jake's eyes followed her.
“I guess I can stop worrying about
you
,” said Tess. “You're in far more capable hands than mine.”
“I don't know, Doc,” he replied, rubbing his beard. “I'm a little worried about that situation. I can't mouth off to her like I do with you. She'll kick my ass.”
“I think an ass-kicking might do you good.”
“You're probably right.”
“I'm going to miss you, Jake.”
“Hey, Strawberry Swirl,” he protested. “I thought we weren't saying good-bye.”
“You're right,” she said with a nod. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I'll see you soon.”
“Are you ready?” Ross asked, arms tightening around her middle.
She glanced back down to the valley, dotted with tents and cooking fires. The orange light washing over the ruin made it almost look homey. Almost.
“I'm ready.”
Tess turned, wrapping her arms around Ross, and pointed her thoughts toward home. They plummeted into the void of space and time. The light-washed emptiness enfolded them.
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The Earth 2 Relief Foundation has leased Seattle's historic Pacific Tower. The allegedly haunted landmark building, built in 1932 in the art deco style, boasts a diverse history of tenants. Formerly a U.S. Marine Corps hospital, it was also temporarily home to online retail giant Amazon.com.
â“Seattle Landmark Building to House E2R,”
The Seattle Times,
January 1, 2019
Five months later
T
ESS TAPPED
on Ross's door with her knuckles. “Hey, you.”
He glanced up from a pile of paperwork, offering a weary smile. “Hey, yourself.”
“We got another application for dislocation certification,” said Tess, handing him a manila envelope.
Ross leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he hadn't slept much last night. Well, she
knew
he hadn't slept much. But that particular type of insomnia usually left him invigorated.
“Of course we did,” he grumbled. “Everyone wants to be Doctor Who.”
“I think that's a time-travel thing, lover.”
“Close enough. I thought I was hired to track down Echoes, not push paperwork.”
“But you push it so well.”
Ross fixed his eyes on her face, raising an eyebrow. Then he laughed out loud. “Don't you have anything better to do than torment me?”
“Nothing as fun.” She winked at him. “Want to see off the professor with me? He's going home for good today.”
“Sure,” he said, rising from his desk. “Anything to delay the inevitable. After that maybe we could⦔ He came close, whispering in her ear, “⦠go home for lunch.”
“You're insatiable. And incorrigible.”
“It's in my job description. Don't you remember? You wrote it.”
“Right. I forgot.”
They walked two doors down to Professor Goff's office, which was more decorated with paperwork than Ross's. For the last three months he'd served as liaison between Earth 2 and the newly christened Camp Emily, keeping track of camp requirements and fulfillment. Two weeks ago he'd turned in his resignation, and a job description for his replacement.
Ross's brother, Jamie, met them in the hallway. “You sure you don't want to make a thing of this? There's still time to send out a press release.”
Jamie was handling public relations for E2R.
“I know Abby said any little bit of press helps,” said Tess. “But he wouldn't like a public sendoff. He'd say it was too much fuss.”
“All right, then, boss lady.” He smiled and headed down the hall.
Tess knocked on Goff's door, and he called them in.
“Ready, Professor?” she asked.
He gave his cluttered office a long, loving look.
“Still time to change your mind,” said Ross.
“I was never qualified for this job,” he said with a laugh. “All the to-ing and fro-ing ⦠it wants someone younger.”
“You know Koestler would be happy to have you,” Tess reminded him. “And Abby would poach you from us unapologetically. You'd be doing me a favor, really, as she's still got me analyzing research data.”
“I know, I know. But it's time to go home.”
“Okay, Professor.” Tess picked up his teapot from one corner of the desk and pressed it into his hands. “At least take this with you.”
He frowned at the chipped, tea-stained vessel. “There's no tea where I'm going.”
Tess emptied a box of his favorite Welsh brew into her hand, slipping the bags in his coat pocket. “There is now. I'll bring you more.”
Goff gave her an affectionate smile. “You've a kind heart, lass. I hope the man never forgets how blessed he is.”
“Not likely,” said Ross, “considering she reminds me on a daily basis.”
Ross kissed her protesting mouth before she could make a sound.
“Nice recovery,” she murmured.
“Shall all three of us go?” asked Ross. “I've got some business on the other end.”
Goff stepped closer, and they each put an arm around him.
“Don't think you're getting rid of me,” she said, feeling the buzz of the energy transfer. She smoothed heavy, gray curls back from his forehead. “Jake tried to say good-bye to us five months ago, and we see him all the time.”
“You send us some real Scottish shortbread and I'll invite you for tea.”
“It's a deal, Professor.”
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
“I thought we could take a long lunch and run up to see the boat. What do you say?”
Ross sighed and stretched back against the passenger seat of her car. “If you insist.”
Despite repairs and rust removal, “the boat” still gave him the creeps. He couldn't believe she had developed such a soft spot for it after everything that had happened there. But then she
was
a parapsychologist. It was also hard for him not to think about the fact Garcia had died there, which technically had been Ross's fault.
It was Garcia's fault.
The reminder came in Tess's voice instead of his, since she'd had to say it at least a dozen times.
But Ross was proud of her, so he kept his mouth shut. The high visibility of E2R had allowed Tess to fund-raise for the personal project. The boat was now home to a nonprofit counseling center for the homeless. The ladies lounge, now the Adelaide Room, had been set aside specifically for depression counseling.
It was a gloriously cold and sunny January day, mercifully without wind. Tess wrapped a scarf around her neck and retrieved a bunch of roses from the backseat.
They paused for a moment in the little park between the Space Needle Millennial Memorial and the refurbished ferry, squinting at the glare of sunshine on highly polished aluminum.
“She's⦔ Ross groped for something complimentary and finally settled for, “Mighty bright.”
“Ugh,” he grunted as Tess whacked him lightly in the stomach with her bouquet. “Good thing those are thornless. More than I can say for you.”
“You're channeling a little Jake right now, sweetie.”
“I figure that way maybe you'll never leave me for him.”
She flashed him a grin. “You can wait for me out here. I know how you feel about ghosts.”
“What have I told you about the reverse psychology?”
“I'm offering you an out! I'll be gone five minutes. Then you can buy me lunch at Ray's.”
“Sounds more like a bribe to me. But you're on.”
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
After more like fifteen minutes of chat with the depression counselor, Tess exited the boat and found Ross stretched on a sunny park bench. She watched herself approach in the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “I know we'd be breaking our own rules, but do you want to dislocate to the restaurant? We haven't done it, just the two of us, in ages. What do you say?”
He rose and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Anything for my girl.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she reached into the void, catching at light with the tips of her fingers. Welcoming the familiar tickle and tug.
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There is something special about this book. Writers often talk about the “book of my heart,” and while I think
every
book an author manages to finish becomes a book of their heart, I understand the sentiment. At different times over the past decade I've felt more connected to a specific story or character. I think it's a natural part of the writing cycle. But there is something about this book ⦠even as an author I'm going to fail to put it into words. And I'm not aloneâit's been the darling of my beta readers for years.
And that's as good a place to start as any! Thank you to all you wonderful people who read this book at various stages and provided encouragement and feedback: Debbi Murray, Laurie Green, Melissa Alexander, MaryEllen DiGennaro, and Dominic Groves.
Thank you to my fabulous agent, Robin Rue, who got how important this book was to me and helped me make it happen. Also to agent Beth Miller, who provided valuable feedback in the early stages. And finally to my Tor editor, Whitney Ross, who saw the glittery stuff beneath a bit of coal dust in that first version.
Thank you to Tor for this beautiful cover: You really nailed it, guys. Thanks to Mark Gleave for cool parties, big laughs, and an additional sharp set of eyes. Thanks to Heather Massey for all you do for our genre. Thanks to my publicist, Leah Withers, and my editor's assistant, Amy Stapp, also at Tor.
Because I can't seem to help putting lots of science-y bits in my books, I have to thank a few subject-matter experts as well:
⢠Parapsychologist Dean Radin, author of
Entangled Minds: Extrasensory Experiences in a Quantum Reality
, which is a wonderful primer /history ofparapsychology and also discusses the potential connection between psi phenomena and quantum physics. I devoured this book. Twice. Dr. Radin was also kind enough to review technical points in my story.
⢠Renowned physicist Brian Greene. I read interviews, watched YouTube talks, and read his book
The
Hidden Reality: Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos
for my research on multiverses.
⢠Bruce Rosenblum and Fred Kuttner, who wrote
Quantum Enigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness,
about the freakiness of quantum physics.
⢠The Discovery Channel's documentary
Super Comet: After the Impact
, which explores what life on Earth might be like in the days and months after a large comet impact.
I also did a ton of research on the Seattle ferry boat
Kalakala
, of which I have become particularly fond in the course of writing this book. I found these two Web sites hugely helpful in understanding her history:
http://www.evergreenfleet.com/kalakala-peralta.html
and
http://www.kalakala.org/
. A big thank-you to attorney Kelly Wood, who had some personal experience with the boat's legal woes, and who also provided some very much appreciated on-the-fly legal advice.
I am sad to say it's possible the ship will be no more by the time
Echo 8
is released. At the time of this writing, she had been all but abandoned in a slip in Tacoma, taking on water, threatening to block passage on an important waterway. She had a grand adventure of a life, and more than her share of hard luck. On the bright side, she'll most likely live on in some capacity. She's assembled of valuable parts, which will be broken down and recycled, as are we all in the end.
That brings me to thanking a person who would particularly enjoy a sentiment like that: Jason Knox. Thank you for kimchi quesadillas and Boddingtons, and for patience with the roller-coaster ride.
Finally to Selah, thank you for your sweet notes, big hugs, and sense of humor. You are awesome. Never change.
Â
You can visit the haunted ferry by listening to “
Kalakala
: Songs from a Parallel Universe.” Original cello compositions by Serena Tideman, recorded (says the artist) “on the
Kalakala
ferry boat late one evening as it was moored in Lake Union and somewhat abandoned.”
Listen and/or purchase at
http://serendipitymusik.bandcamp.com/album/kalakala-songs-from-a-parallel-universe
.
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Adelaide “Peggy” Bebb
APRIL
13, 1915â
JUNE
23, 1940
Took her life aboard the ferry
Kalakala
shortly after the deaths of her father and sister
Bureau of Internal Revenue employee, poetry student, daughter, sister, wife
I found life too beautiful and at once too difficult.
I found it rare and splendid, but the moments were too few and dearly paid for.
I found even the beauty painful because I could not speak my bursting heart.
I know the best of life and the worst.
But most of all I know myself to be inadequate to make my life what I wanted to make it.
*
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