“This is the headquarters of the Realitants, you see,” Rutger began, “and there’s a reason we’re here. Master George has to do a lot of winking, a lot of working with the Chi’karda. And this is the one place in the world where it’s the most concentrated, the easiest to penetrate and control. It’s by far the strongest link between all of the Realities.”
“But where are we?” Sofia insisted.
Rutger rocked back and forth on his feet. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you.”
“Blimey, just tell ’em, fat man,” Mothball said, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, tell us,” Paul added.
Rutger folded his hands and rested them on his belly. “We’re smack dab in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.”
Master George let out a long, blissful sigh as he stuck his sore feet into a tub full of salt and warm water. Muffintops jumped onto his lap, purring as she licked his hands.
“Hello there, little friend,” he said, petting her soft fur. “Quite the day, we’ve had—busy, busy, busy. Never knew it would be so difficult explaining all the many things we know. Those poor little chaps. They’ve no idea what lies ahead of them. None at all.”
Master George leaned back and closed his eyes, wiggling his toes in the hot water. “Dear Muffintops, can we really do it? Can we really send them to that dreadful place? There’s a mighty good chance everything will fall to pieces, you know. They could be attacked or captured. I don’t know if the Sound Slicers will be enough . . .”
The cat looked up at Master George, as if it wanted to answer but couldn’t.
“Ah, yes, I know, I know. We’ve no choice really. Must let them prove themselves, mustn’t we?” He paused, thinking about the three eager children and how different they were from the boy Sato. Of course, Master George had expected nothing different from the troubled son of his former friend.
Master George smiled. When he really thought about the potential of the four kids he had gathered together, he didn’t know who he felt sorrier for in the coming days, weeks, and years.
His new batch of Realitants or Mistress Jane.
“The Bermuda Triangle?” Paul asked, sounding like he’d just been told they were living inside an alien’s big toe on Mars. “I feel like I’m in a bad made-for-TV movie.”
Rutger answered. “For some reason this area by far has the biggest concentration of Chi’karda in the world. Something tremendous must’ve happened here a long, long time ago, but we haven’t been able to figure it out. There’s certainly nothing recorded in the history books.”
“Why’s it such a big deal that there’s more Chi’karda here than anywhere else?” Tick asked, stumbling only a little over the unfamiliar word.
“Why’s it a big deal?” Rutger repeated, throwing up his arms like Tick had just asked him why he needed oxygen to breathe. “Do you have an unreasonable level of earwax, boy? Didn’t you listen to a word Master George said tonight?”
“Hey, be nice,” Sofia warned. “Unless you want a punch in the nose, too.”
Rutger ignored her. “Everything having to do with the Realities revolves around the Chi’karda. Because it’s so powerful here, it’s the easiest place to wink to and from the other Realities. It’s also the best place for Master George to monitor Chi’karda levels around the world. That’s how he’s watched all of you from day one so closely.”
“How?” Paul asked.
“By using another invention from Chu Industries in the Fourth Reality. It’s called a nanolocator.”
“Sounds fancy,” Sofia said. “Maybe Pacinis should make them.”
“I assure, you, Miss Pacini, there’s a big difference between making nanolocators and spaghetti sauce.” Sofia leaned forward like she was ready to get out of bed and attack Rutger, but he held up his hands in reconciliation, then hurried to continue. “A nanolocator is basically a microscopic robot, but it’s so tiny you can’t see it with the naked eye. It crawls into your skin and sends various signals back here to the Command Center.”
“What kind of signals?” Tick asked, shifting on his cot to get more comfortable. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a tiny robot crawling under his skin.
“Signals that monitor your Chi’karda levels, your global position, your body temperature—all kinds of things. Our fearless leader had to have some way to keep tabs on you, don’t you think? The nanolocators also told us where to send the Gnat Rats and Tingle Wraiths, which were programmed to find you and no one else.”
“Ah, man, I feel so . . . violated,” Paul said in a deadpan voice, then barked a laugh.
“How did he get it inside our bodies?” Tick asked.
“That’s easy,” Mothball said. “The little fella was on the first letter he sent you.”
“Serious?” Paul asked.
“When each one of you opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, the nanolocator quickly sought a heat source—your hand—and slipped right between your skin cells.” Rutger grinned. “Brilliant, don’t you think?”
“Dude, that just seems wrong,” Paul said, shaking his head.
“Oh, boo hoo,” Rutger replied, rubbing his eyes in a mock cry. “How else were we supposed to know when or if you burned the first letter. Or when you made your Pick?”
“Pick?” all three kids asked at once.
“I’ll take that one,” Mothball said. “A Pick’s what Master George calls a ruddy big decision. Your Chi’karda level spikes like a rocket shootin’ off to space, it does. Showed up on his big monitor and let him know when yer were truly committed to the job he offered, when you really promised yourself there was no turning back. Smart old chap, don’t you think?”
“Master George watched his big screen every day,” Rutger said, “so he’d know when you made your Pick. Word is he just about suffocated his cat hugging the poor thing when you three made your Pick at almost the same time. That was uncanny.”
Tick thought of that night he knelt in front of the fireplace and the decision he’d made to not burn the letter in his hand. He remembered the sensation of warmth that had spread throughout his whole body. That was my Pick, he realized. He’d felt that same sensation again later, when he screamed out in the dark woods and managed to somehow change reality. Is that what using the Chi’karda feels like? Tick shivered. It was a lot to think about.