BEYOND THE LOOKING-GLASS: Book One in the BEYOND Series Read online

  “I don’t know. I think I must have overlooked something in my calculations.”

  Kellen had to smile to himself on that one. Typical answer from my mad scientist ex-wife.

  Aleeta talked to a couple of the story book characters, then trudged back to Kellen. She shook her head. “They say they haven’t seen any strange children.”

  Kellen watched as Simple Simon threw a custard pie into the face of a wooden soldier.

  “That’s funny. These characters calling my kids strange.”

  Aleeta shrugged and pulled Kellen along the road again.

  Soon the brick road led them to a stretch with a high stone wall along one side.

  “Look, Kel,” Aleeta said. “There’s someone sitting up on that wall ahead. Maybe he’s seen the kids.”

  Kellen followed her gaze. And there, perched atop the high wall, was a man-sized egg wearing a sailor suit and a blue beanie with a fluttering red ribbon.

  It was Humpty-Dumpty!

  Kellen walked up to the wall. He looked up at Humpty-Dumpty sitting high above him.

  “Hey, you, Dumpty,” Kellen shouted. “How long have you been perched up there? Do you want me to help you get down?”

  The fat egg man peered down at Kellen and sniffed. “Move along. I don’t need any help. And quit gawking. Haven’t you ever seen an egg sitting up on a wall before?”

  Before Kellen could answer, Aleeta spoke up. “Please, Mr. Dumpty. We’re the ones who need help. We’ve lost our children. Did you happen to see them pass this way?”

  Humpty sniffed again. More loudly this time. He folded his short arms across his pot belly. “No children have come by this way, Madam.”

  “You didn’t see anyone?” Kellen asked.

  Humpty placed a pudgy finger to his rosy cheek. “Let me think. I did see a dish running away with a spoon. And Little Miss Muffet being chased by an ugly, hairy spider. Does that help?”

  Kellen kicked the dirt in disgust. “Come on, Allie. He’s no help. I’d like him a lot better sizzling in a frying pan.”

  They spotted two small figures a short distance away. Aleeta drew a sharp breath and ran toward them, with Kellen just behind her.

  A boy in a floppy straw hat and paint-splashed big overalls stood, with dirty hands on hips, staring at a white-washed section of the wall. A little girl in a checkered cotton dress, holding a small dog to her chest, watched him intently.

  Kellen scratched his head. He stared at the young boy holding a dripping paint brush and the girl with her dog. “It looks like...Tom Sawyer! And if this is the Yellow Brick Road, that must be Dorothy and Toto.”

  “But this is all wrong,” Aleeta complained. “These two can’t be in Nursery Land. They’ve gone off the grid and gotten into the wrong section. They’re defying my entire architecture.”

  “Maybe it’s just another bad calculation.”

  Aleeta ignored that remark, focusing on the Mega-Chan controller. “This isn’t the way I structured the content for the Glass! Every sector is bleeding into the others...”

  Tom Sawyer began splashing more whitewash on the stones. He was doing his task with wild abandon. “Gotta get this done,” Tom moaned, “or Aunt Polly will tan my backside fer sure.”

  Dorothy tugged at Aleeta’s sleeve.

  “Please, Ma’am,” she asked in a small and timid voice, “do you know the way back to my home in Kansas?”

  Aleeta leaned down and patted Toto on the head. The dog licked her face. “I’m not sure, Dorothy,” she said, looking down at the red slippers on the girl’s feet. “But I think those ruby slippers you’re wearing will help you get home to Auntie Em.”

  “How do you know my name? You know Auntie Em?”

  Aleeta looked over at a nearby field. She could see the Tin Man pulling the Cowardly Lion’s tail, while the Straw Man rolled in the grass in a fit of laughter.

  “Oh, I know your Aunt Em, Dorothy. And your friends over there as well.”

  “They’re really not my friends. I met them on my way. They are really very silly. But they told me there was a man who could help me get home. The Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz.”

  “Well, Dorothy,” Aleeta said. “Before you take that long walk to Oz, and fight off a Wicked Witch and her flying monkeys, why don’t you simply click those ruby red slippers together and say, ‘there’s no place like home.’ What happens then might surprise you.”

  Dorothy clutched little Toto to her slim body. She kissed Aleeta on the cheek. “Thanks, Ma’am. I heard what you said to that silly old egg person. He’s lying. I saw two children pass by here. They went that way down the road. Goodbye.”

  In an instant, Dorothy and Toto were running across the field to rejoin their odd traveling companions.

  Tom Sawyer shook his head. “Women-folk! Always kissin’ everyone. It’s plumb disgustin’.”

  Nearby, on the high wall, Humpty suddenly cried out. “Hurrah! I’m saved! Here come all the King’s horses and all the King’s men. They’ll get me down safely from this wall.”

  A large group of mounted horsemen reined up at the wall. They all wore bright red uniforms and black patent-leather helmets topped with white plumes. The officer in charge rode over to confront Aleeta and Kellen. His powerful black stallion whinnied and reared up on its hind quarters. The fearsome beast pawed at the air, its hooves slicing the air close to their faces.

  The officer stared at them for a long moment. His dark eyes were piercing, and there was a slight smirk on his lips beneath a tightly trimmed black mustache. He nudged his mount ahead, until he had pinned them both up against the wall.

  “Intruders!” the officer spat out. “Spies sent to assassinate our king.” He drew his saber and pointed it down at the couple cowering before him.

  “Don’t move a muscle, spies! Or I’ll sever your heads from your shoulders!”

  Kellen spoke up. “We’re not spies, Captain. We’re just innocent travelers searching for our lost children.”

  The Captain replaced his saber in its sheath. “Children, you say?”

  “Yes,” Aleeta said. “Did you see them, as you and your men rode up the road?”

  “No, Madam, we did not.”

  The Captain’s steed began to whinny and prance around. He tried to quiet his mount, but his spirited horse fought against the bit and the soldier’s quirt.

  .Kellen saw a chance to gain the cavalryman’s favor. He dug into his jacket pocket and brought out the box of gumdrops. He shook some into his hand and held them under the wet nose of the nervous black stallion.

  The officer’s mount was wild-eyed and snorting. It hesitated for a moment. But the temptation was too great. The stallion suddenly gobbled up the gumdrops and prodded Kellen’s arm for more. He obliged. As the horse enjoyed the gumdrops, Kellen began to stroke the giant beast on its nose.

  Kellen looked up at the perplexed guardsman above him. “Looks like somebody around here has a powerful sweet tooth, Captain.” He moved the Captain’s horse aside and took Aleeta by the arm. “We’d love stay and hear all your war stories, sir. But we have some kids to catch.”

  ~*~

  SIX

  Anton and Nikki moved quickly along the Yellow Brick Road. Nikki looked at her tall, grim-faced superior. I am thrilled they picked me for this assignment. I know I shall learn a great deal from the Director.

  Anton noticed Nikki staring at him. “What is it, Rosetti?”

  Embarrassed, she mumbled, “Nothing, Director. My mind was simply wandering, I guess.”

  “Well, keep your mind on our mission.” He took a small black device from his tunic and tapped it.

  “What’s that?” Nikki inquired.

  “A tracker. It’ll pick up a signal from the ID chip implanted in Marlowe’s shoulder. We should catch up with them presently, Rosetti.”

  “My name is Nikki, Director. Would it be contrary to protocol for you to address me by my first name?”

  Anton smiled. He has a nice smile, she thought. Too bad he d
oesn’t do it more often. It makes him look so much younger.”

  “Very well,” he replied. “I suppose it’s foolish to adhere to strict regulations in this place.” He paused for a moment. “You may call me Anton, if you wish.”

  They began walking a little faster, but soon they had to push past dozens of chattering little children and bizarre animals. The frolicking youngsters kept blocking the way.

  “Get out of the way!” Nikki called out to the tykes. “Clear a path for Government agents on official business.” The kiddies giggled and paid no heed to her order.

  “Let me shoot a couple, Anton,” Nikki suggested. “That’ll scare them off to clear our path.”

  “No shooting, Nikki. Unless I give the order. Understand?”

  Nikki took her hand off her holstered weapon. She looked at the crowds of rowdy children. Who the hell are these little monsters?”

  “You don’t recognize any of them, do you?” Anton said.

  “No. Do you?”

  “Oh, I recall a few, I think. From stories my grandmother read to me as a boy.”

  Nikki kicked at a bunch of dirty-faced children coming at her from an old house shaped like a shoe. “Scat,” she demanded. “Make way for the law.”

  When several boisterous kids grabbed Nikki about her legs, she lost it. “Let go of me, you horrid little scum!” She pulled out her sidearm and fired a shot in the air.

  The children screamed and scattered in every direction.

  “Damn it, Nikki,” Anton bellowed. “I told you no shooting.”

  Nikki didn’t like the look in his eyes. She quickly holstered her weapon. “Sorry, sir. I thought they were attacking us. I merely meant to scare them off. I wasn’t going to kill any of them.”

  Anton’s demeanor softened. “A rookie mistake, Nikki. We’ve all panicked at one time or another. Just do as I say from now on, and we’ll get along famously.”

  The road was clear now. Not a pesky child in sight. So they proceeded once more along the Yellow Brick Road.

  After an hour or so, they approached a high stone wall. A large egg-shaped man sat atop the wall. At the base of the wall, three dejected figures huddled together. There was a man made of tin, another of straw, and a weeping lion mopping away tears with the end of its tail.

  The straw man wailed, “Oh, our beloved Dorothy is gone. She just clicked her slippers together and disappeared. Oh, woe is us.”

  The man of tin had tears rolling down his cheeks and appeared to have rusted in a strange posture.

  And the lion was crying louder than the rest.

  Anton ignored the crying trio and stared up at the wall.

  “You, up there on the wall,” Anton shouted to the egg-man. “Have you seen two children, or their parents, pass this way?”

  The fat egg in the sailor suit sniffed. “My name is Humpty-Dumpty, sir. I am not addressed simply as YOU. I’m growing weary of complete strangers invading my space and asking me stupid questions. Just toddle along. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Anton replied. He reached up, caught the egg-man’s trouser leg, and yanked with all his might.

  Humpty-Dumpty came crashing down the ground, barely missing the weeping lion and its companions.

  “Why did you do that?” Nikki exclaimed.

  Anton slicked back his dark hair and adjusted his tunic. “Simple. I like my eggs scrambled. Shall we proceed?”

  As they moved on, a group of mounted horsemen who had been on maneuvers in a nearby field rushed up. They began a desperate attempt to put the fat egg-man back together.

  Anton was in a foul mood as he walked down the highway. A small boy in a floppy straw hat now blocked his way. The youngster had a bucket of white paint in one hand, and a brush in the other.

  “Out of my way, urchin,” Anton barked.

  The freckle-faced boy put down his bucket and waved his paint brush in Anton’s face.

  “You cain’t tell me what ta do, mister. You ain’t a sheriff or a kin of mine.”

  Anton kicked over the paint bucket and put his powerful hands out as if he were about to strangle the impudent waif.

  The farm boy’s eyes widened in terror as he ran off hollering: “Aunt Polly! Aunt Polly!”

  Anton and Nikki didn’t wait around to receive a scolding from Aunt Polly. In minutes the high stone wall was far behind them.

  *

  SEVEN

  The landscape around the highway was changing. Fields of colorful poppies and wildflowers giving way to ugly thickets with gnarled and twisted limbs. The peaceful sky above was disappearing behind ominous dark clouds.

  At first, Kellen thought the clouds were weather-related. But as ash slowly drifted down around his shoulders, he realized the air was thick with black soot. The yellow bricks were gone. Now they were walking on filthy cobblestones. And there were all kinds of ugly potholes filled with brackish and foul-smelling fluids. Dark shapes of a city loomed in the distance.

  “What’s happening?” Aleeta asked.

  “I don’t know. But I don’t like it. Keep your eyes open.”

  When they entered the strange town, Kellen was stunned by what he saw. Dilapidated old nineteenth-century buildings were jammed together on each side of what appeared to be the main street. The humid air was thick with eye-burning coal smoke from a thousand belching chimney pots.

  Horse-drawn omnibuses thundered by, splashing Kellen and Aleeta with stinking sewer water from an open gutter system. And up and down the streets, sweepers were hard at work scooping up their daily pounds of horse droppings.

  The two of them stepped along, gingerly trying to avoid as much raw garbage as possible. They passed large crowds of costermongers hawking their bins of freshly-cut flowers, fruits, fish, and baked goods. A few vendors were pushing their goods around in rickety wooden barrows.

  Aleeta clapped her hands together. “Oh, Kel. Isn’t this marvelous. It’s old London just the way Dickens described it.”

  Kellen wasn’t as enthusiastic as his ex-wife. Yeah. It certainly is the stink hole he wrote about in all those stories.

  As the street crowd grew thicker, Kellen suddenly felt a sharp bump. Someone had brushed by him and quickly darted off.

  He felt his back pocket. His wallet was gone.

  A small figure in a dark cap and ragged clothing was running down the street.

  “Stop,” he called out. “Stop thief!”

  He took off after the pickpocket, dodging around street hawkers and their bins of goods. He rammed his way roughly through a dense mob of beggars, drunks, prostitutes and some gaudily dressed vagabonds. In a minute, he was upon the little thief. He reached out and grabbed the tiny felon by the back of the collar.

  The diminutive wallet-snatcher turned to face Kellen. The cap fell off and an ocean of yellow curls spilled out. It was a little girl dressed in an Alpine costume.

  Aleeta caught up to them and gasped. “Why it’s Heidi. I’d know her anywhere.”

  “Are you sure?” Kellen asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything. Except she doesn’t belong in this Dickens town.”

  “Please, sir,” Heidi pleaded. “I was only doing what he told me to.”

  “Who?” Kellen asked.

  The little girl’s eyes widened with fear. And she was visibly trembling. “I’m not supposed to say if I’m caught. Not ever.”

  “That’s all right, Heidi,” Aleeta said. “We’ll keep your secret. We’d like to be your friend.”

  Heidi stared up with tear-filled eyes. “How do you know my name? Do you know my grandfather?”

  “In a way,” Kellen said. “We both heard about him when we were very young.”

  “I miss my grandfather. The mountains. And my goats. I am trying very hard to get back home. Mister Fagin says he’ll help me.” Heidi quickly put her pudgy little hand up to her mouth. She obviously realized she’d said far too much.

  “What did this Mister Fagin promise?” Kellen asked, as he knelt down in front of t
he frightened little mountain girl.

  Heidi spoke in a whisper. “He says if I become a good pickpocket, like his other children, he’ll take me back to grandfather. He’s keeping count of my money. And it won’t be much longer now.”

  A rough crowd of townspeople was gathering about them. It was a surly, dirty-faced mob and Kellen didn’t like their expressions.

  A thin young boy pushed through the onlookers to stand beside Heidi. He put his arm around her in a protective way. The youngster was a snub-nosed little kid with an arrogant manner. His clothing was on the bizarre side--- a tattered man’s coat reaching down to his dirt-caked ankles, floppy shoes with no laces, shirtsleeves rolled back on the arms, and a crumpled top hat cocked over to one side.

  It couldn’t be anyone else, Kellen thought. It’s Jack Hawkins. The Artful Dodger.

  “What’s the trouble here, Guv?” The Dodger asked.

  “This girl stole my wallet,” Kellen replied.

  “That be a serious charge, Guv. ‘Specially from a stranger the likes of you.”

  Dodger twitched and his cocked hat moved back onto the top of his head, just as it was about to fall off. “This little Miss look like a thief to you, Guv?”

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Aleeta said to The Dodger. “We just need some help.”

  “Clear the way, you riff-raff,” a hoarse voice shouted at the back of the crowd. The crowd parted to allow two men to claw their way through. One of the men was a bearded, grotesque little man in a rumpled frock coat. He kept rubbing his bony hands together as he eyed the scene nervously.

  This has to be Fagin, Kellen thought.

  The second man was a scowling hulk dressed in a black velvet frock coat, filthy breeches, gray stockings, and lace-up boots. Like Dodger, the man also wore a battered top hat. He was holding a dangerous-looking pit bull on a leash with one hand and a thick club in the other. As he stared at Kellen and Aleeta, he grabbed hold of a red bandana circling his neck and wiped some spittle off his scraggly beard.

  And this, Kellen surmised, is Bill Sikes and his pit bull, Bull’s-Eye.

  “Here, here,” Sikes barked, “unhand them two tykes.” Bull’s-Eye growled menacingly and showed its front fangs. The animal strained at the leash, but Sikes kept a tight grip on the tether.