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Oscar poured clear alcohol into a glass before quickly splashing red liquid over it. His hands moved mechanically, dashing the contents of another smaller bottle over it. He held up the glass with a satisfied smirk as the liquids coalesced into a soft red, before sliding the concoction to the woman across the counter. 

The woman murmured her thanks, without as much as a glance up from her scribble-laden notebook. Her scribbles, more prose than research notes, piqued Oscar’s interest. However, with how her dark curls fell over her face, creating a sort of force field between her and Oscar, he knew she wanted to be left alone.

Oscar retreated to the other side of the bar. His eyes shifted behind him. A shadow gave him a little jump—as it always had over the last few weeks. Bob the Robot slumped against the back wall of the bar, beneath a layer of dust that blanketed its metal and forgotten body. A long split ran across the robot’s head, wires exposed. Its mouth hung open, resembling more a passed out person sleeping off a hangover than a bartending robot.

Weeks ago, some genius engineer had decided to show off their, as they called it, “bionic operating bartender”—or BOB for short. More efficient, they had said. Less overhead, they had said.

The clunky robot often got in Oscar’s way as it rolled around the bar to mix drinks, causing Oscar to stub his toe on many occasions. So much for efficiency, Oscar had groused, as he hopped around on one foot, inwardly cursing in pain while his automaton counterpart would continue zipping around with a metallic smile and dorky name tag with “Bob” scrawled on it. 

But the genius engineer had failed to factor in another variable: what if someone—say, some unnamed bartender—stuck a foot out suddenly in front of Bob the Robot?

Oscar sauntered over to the robot and pressed its mouth shut, so that Bob looked as though he was frowning instead. He smirked and patted Bob on the head before returning to the bar, feeling his job secured. For now.

Oscar’s ears rang when he returned to the bar. On the stage, a man wailed a song about physics. He missed every note and resembled more of a preacher at a pulpit than a renowned scientist at karaoke night.

Somehow over the dissonant singing, Oscar heard the bar’s phone buzz. He picked up the device, grunting, “Edge Bar.”

“Hello?” a young voice squeaked from the other end. “I’m looking for my mom.”

Oscar cast a wary glance around the room. It was a typical Wednesday crowd—workers exhausted from their week, with a few others in the mix.

“Her name is Pia, but she goes by P. Last name: Ness.”

Oscar paused. “Ness?”

“You know, like the Loch Ness monster.” Muffled snickering.

“So… P. Ness?”

Laughter erupted at the end of the line. Oscar grumbled and hung up.

From across the bar, Angela sighed at him. “Did you really have to say it?”

“I thought saying it might take away some of its power.”

“Well, it didn’t,” Angela told him flatly. “I hope you find out who those jackasses are someday.” 

Oscar pointed at the phone’s digital interface. “I have caller ID. I know exactly who it is.”

Angela gave Oscar an exasperated look. “Are you kidding me? Then why haven’t you confronted them yet?” When Oscar only shrugged, Angela shook her head. “You have to be practical. Confront that little jerk and he’ll stop prank calling you. Problem solved.”

“Always the problem solver,” Oscar remarked wryly.

Angela flashed an ironic smile before returning to examining the bottom of her glass, as though willing more whiskey to appear. Engineer by day, barfly by night, she nursed her old fashioned like a crutch, her eyes sunken and her dark hair frizzy and unkempt, even more so now than usual. Whatever top-secret project she was working on—something that he was not privy to— was really doing a number on her.

Oscar snorted, more to himself than anyone. Maybe it was better that he not know what crazy experiments these scientists in Selunia Falls were running. Oddly, his countless speculations on the matter made his life feel fuller in this strange town. While his own fiancé Sian, a biologist and his sole reason for being here, staunchly wouldn’t tell him any of the town’s secrets, other scientists, administrators, janitors, and even stray cats regaled Oscar from across the bar counter with a variety of answers and possibilities: nuclear bombs, renewable energy, ways to raise the dead, aliens, world domination.

Maybe none of them were telling the truth. Maybe this town was some outrageous thought experiment he wasn’t in on, and game show people would hop out from behind a curtain and point at the video cameras around the room.

“Not every problem needs to be solved,” Oscar grumbled.

“You’re not just saying that because of your doomsday caller, are you?”

Doomsday caller. Oscar’s eyes flicked to the bar’s clock—a digital contraption with the trappings of a cuckoo clock for charm. 

Every midnight, for the past few midnights, an unregistered number would call the bar. Oscar would pick up. Static. Then, a monotone voice, which sounded eerily disembodied, would croak a number—a number that was one less than the night before. And then the phone call would go dead. 

Oscar shivered. The person was clearly counting down. Yesterday, that number was one.

None of the other bartenders received this mysterious phone call on the nights he wasn’t working. Which meant that not only was this number counting down, but it was counting down specifically when Oscar was on shift.

A shuffling of papers snapped Oscar’s attention back to the woman with the notebook at the opposite end of the bar. She always came in by herself and drank her red whisky concoction while scribbling into her notebook. At exactly 11:53PM—Oscar knew this exact time due to the cash register’s timestamps—the woman would flag him down for the check and then disappear out the back door.

Angela leaned in, her voice barely audible. “Could it be her?”

“Why would you say that?” Oscar asked, his voice also low.

“She leaves at exactly 11:53PM,” Angela said, a finger pressed against the white counter as though a timeline was illustrated on it. She moved her finger along. “You get a call exactly seven minutes later.”

Oscar glanced back at the woman warily. “But why would she do that?”

“Maybe…” Angela tilted her head in thought. “Maybe she caught on to one of your shenanigans about pouring non-alcoholic drinks.”

“I never did that!” Oscar snapped. When Angela gave him a blank stare, he quipped, “Not to her anyways.” Scientists had their experiments. Oscar had his.

“Maybe she’s a vampire?”

“A… what?” Oscar crossed his arms over his chest, trying to remember if that was Angela’s third or fourth drink.

“A vampire.” Angela let out a little giggle. “You said you only see her when it’s dark!”

“As with a lot of people at this bar!” Oscar exclaimed with a snort. “Are you okay—-what are you doing?”

Angela had reached over the counter and to the garnishes, grabbing a fistful of pickled onions in her unsteady hand. She gave Oscar a triumphant look. “This should do the trick.”

“No!” Oscar hissed, shooting a glance at the other end of the bar, where the mysterious woman was looking at her phone, oblivious. “I know what you’re thinking! And those are pickled onions, not garlic!”

“Shhh!” Angela said, shooting a glance at the other end of the bar. She proceeded to plop a handful of pickled onions into her drink. She shoved her glass into Oscar’s hands. “Take this with you for your safety.”

“I’m cutting you off now.” Oscar turned to close Angela’s tab and stopped in his tracks. He noticed the other end of the bar was now empty. He whipped around to look at the cuckoo clock.

11:50PM.

Early. Too early. Did he and Angela spook her?

She must have slipped out the back, Oscar thought. He clutched the pickled onion concoction as he made his way to the alleyway behind the bar. A cool night breeze greeted him in the empty alley. 

The woman was nowhere in sight. 

Oscsr turned around—-and right into the mysterious woman as she appeared behind him.

“Pardon me—HEY!” The woman screeched as Oscar threw the pickled onion concoction on the woman’s face. 

Oscar clamped a hand over his mouth in horror and embarrassment. “Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

“What was that?” the woman demanded, wiping away the liquid from her face, her face stunned.

“Um. Garlic—I mean—onion water. Er, scotch.”

“Why?”

“It repels vampires!”

“No—-why?!”

Oscar’s cheeks burned red as he awkwardly placed the glass of onioned scotch on the ground, unsure what to do. “I’m really sorry.” 

The woman placed her hands on her hips, exasperated. Drops of scotch still dripped from her bangs. “Care to explain?”

Oscsr grasped for words. “I was wondering why you came and left when you did, without much of a word. And I let a drunken engineer convince me you were a vampire.”

The woman just stared at him. Then, she threw her head back and laughed. “That would be a great scene for the book I’m writing.”

Oscar let out a relieved chuckle. “Is that what you’ve been doing at the bar? You’re not a scientist?”

“Only of words,” the woman said with a smirk. She glanced at her watch and then back up at Oscar. “To answer your question, my wife Jackie returns home by 11:30PM. I have to wait half an hour before returning home. It takes me seven minutes to get home.”

Oscar frowned. “Why do you have to wait?”

“Science?” the woman offered with a shrug, her smile faltering. How could a smile seem so sad?

But Oscar oddly understood. “It just seems so… precise. You leave on the dot, without fail. Except for today.”

The woman snorted. “I had to use the bathroom. I wasn’t leaving yet. I still had to close my bill.”

“Oh. Right.”

The woman laughed. “Jackie is studying something that she can’t tell me about. She’s instructed to avoid people for thirty minutes after leaving the lab. Something about half life or some other mumbo jumbo.” The woman’s eyes fell to the ground. “Jackie has terminal cancer.”

Oscar winced. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Jackie is a scientist here. Always so busy, saving the world or whatever.” The woman let out a huff. “And I want to spend every moment I can with her. Half life be damned.”

Oscar fell silent, unsure what to say.

“I’m Priscilla by the way.” The woman held out a hand. “But you can call me P. Last name Ness.”

“Wait. What?”

“I’m joking!” Priscilla threw back her head in a laugh. “It’s Ramos.”

“Oscar.” Oscar shook her hand, relief washing through his body. 

A smile tugged at Priscilla’s lips as she looked up to the night sky with a dreamy sigh. Oscar followed her gaze—and immediately felt so small. A legion of stars, spread across a vast universe, winked at them. He and Priscilla stood together in silence, their eyes gazing up at the limitless heavens and possibilities that stretched beyond what their eyes could see. Oscar held his breath, hoping to never lose this sense of wonder.

After a few moments, Oscar turned his attention back to the world around him. ““I have no idea what’s going on with this town. But I hope Jackie is also saving herself while she’s out saving the world.”

“Me, too,” Priscilla said, her voice wistful. “We have lofty hopes for this odd little town, don’t we?”

“We do.” Oscar chuckled. “I think sometimes it’s best to keep things unanswered. Keep the whimsy. These scientists are so serious. Everything must have an answer.”

“This is why I write.” Priscilla pulled out her notebook from her bag and held it up. “I imagine fantastical worlds, with inspiration from Jackie.” She placed the notebook back into her bag, glancing at her watch as she did.

“Drinks are on me tonight,” Oscar said. He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do after trying to kill you with onion whiskey.”

“Thank you,” Priscilla replied with a laugh.

“Get outta here now.” Oscar jerked his head toward the street as Priscilla glanced at her watch again. “Don’t keep Jackie waiting.” When Priscilla turned to leave, he added, “Hey—don’t be a stranger next time, okay? We’re in this together.”

Priscilla smiled. “Until next time, Oscar.”

The bar phone was ringing off the hook when Oscar slipped back inside the bar. He pressed the phone to his ear. “The Edge Bar.”

Static.

Oscar’s heart dropped.

Twelve midnight.

“Zero,” the monotone voice said. The soft chuckle cracked through the static, building in intensity with every hammering heartbeat in Oscar’s chest.

Oscar hastily slammed the phone back on the receiver.

“Is it your friend?” Angela asked from her spot, nursing a glass of water she must have helped herself to in his absence.

Oscar nodded.

“It was nice knowing you,” Angela said, lifting her glass to him.

Oscar looked around the bar, searching, suddenly aware of everyone inside. People were laughing, singing, living life. Nothing that indicated impending doom.

A hand gripped Oscar’s shoulder. He yelped and spun around.

“Oscar?”

Sian stood before him, a stunned look on her face.

Oscar gripped his chest, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “You scared me.”

“Sorry!” Sian hugged Oscar before planting a kiss on Oscar’s cheek. She plopped herself on an empty bar seat, dusting soil off her jeans. She propped her hand on the bar and stifled a yawn..

“Long day?” Oscar asked, his heartbeat slowing to its normal pace. Though he always asked about her day, he knew she couldn’t tell him about her day.

Instead, she gave him a half smile that said: Someday. 

Oscar returned her smile. As far as he was concerned, Oscar felt everything was going to be okay, whether it be zombies, aliens, or world domination—so long as he had Sian by his side.

Oscar turned to reach for a scotch bottle for Sian’s old fashion when something caught his eye. The robot at the back of the bar no longer looked like it was frowning. Rather, it looked like it was grinning.

But that wasn’t all that caught Oscar’s eye. He approached the robot slowly and realized with a frown that the robot was still, in fact, plugged in this whole time. 

Which meant the robot was still hooked up to the internet. Maybe even… connected to the phone lines?

Oscar pulled the robot’s plug out of the socket. Just to be safe.

Sadie was wiping down some of the tables in Anna’s Cafe, cleaning up after the lunch shift, when the stranger first walked in. “Sit anywhere you like,” she said. He chose a stool at the counter, the one furthest from all the other tables.

It wasn’t his appearance that made him stand out, though he was young looking — probably around Sadie’s age — and conventionally attractive and dressed in a shirt and slacks.

It was that he was a stranger. And strangers didn’t just show up in Selunia Falls.

Sadie studied him discreetly as she scooped up some of the leftover drinks on the counter. She was sure — he had never come in the cafe before.

The stranger was still browsing the menu, so Sadie checked the other tables around the cafe. At the far end,  a couple of scientists had finished their sandwiches, and she went to collect their dishes. They were having a spirited discussion about the results of some experiment over the weekend. She recognized only some of the words, something about activation energy, something about quarks and gravitons.

“Let’s ask her,” one of the scientists said, pointing at Sadie. “He says the gravitational waves don’t have enough energy, but I think they do. Or at least close enough.” He started to launch into an explanation before Sadie interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I barely understood quantum chromodynamics,” she said.

“Not even a guess?”

“No, sorry.” She smiled politely, something she had perfected when the other scientists in the cafe tried to talk to her about their work.

“Well, never mind then.” The disappointment was evident on his face.

As Sadie was leaving, she heard the other scientist say, “Let’s ask the other waitress. I think astrophysics is one of her hobbies.” She knew it wasn’t meant to be mean spirited, and it wasn’t a jab at her, but it stung anyway. It reminded her that being just smart wasn’t good enough, not when everyone else was a genius. She shoved the dishes, harder than she had intended to, through the slot where the dishwashing robot would start cleaning them.

When she was done, the stranger was still staring at the menu. It was only a single oversized page, double sided, and yet she saw him flip it back and forth quite a few times.

She sidled up to him. “Having trouble deciding?”

“Yes… kind of. What do you suggest?”

She pointed to an item on the menu. “The corn chowder is popular here.”

“I’ll take that, then.”

Sadie put in the order, and when she turned back around, the stranger was looking out the window. He hadn’t taken out his phone like most of the other customers did when they ate alone. His hands ran back and forth along the counter, as if he didn’t know what to do with them now that they were empty.

Sadie took the opportunity. “Do you work at the lab?” she asked.

“How did you know?”

“Pretty much everyone here works at the lab. Are you a scientist? What are you researching?”

Most of the other scientists who came by the cafe couldn’t wait to talk about their work. But the stranger hesitated, a bit unsure.

“I mean, I don’t know a lot of physics, but I know some,” Sadie said. “I’m not asking you to explain all the math.”

“Well, I’m researching particle interactions in eleven dimensional spacetime.”

“Sounds complicated.” She left a deliberate opening, but the stranger didn’t say any more. It intrigued her.

When Sadie saw that he wasn’t going to elaborate, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Sadie.”

“I’m Rainbow,” the stranger said.

“That’s… an interesting name.” She blurted it out without thinking.

“Oh, I picked it out myself.”

Sadie chuckled, then stopped when she saw the expression on his face. She was about to ask him if he was serious when he started chuckling too, a little bit awkwardly, and she loosened up when she realized it had just been some deadpan humor that hadn’t quite landed.

---

“Have you heard of the Renaissance Faire?” Sadie asked.

Rainbow looked up from his corn chowder. “What is that?”

He sat on the same stool that he had chosen the first day. For several weeks in a row he’d come in for lunch. Always at the same time, half past one, just after the lunch rush. Always the same order, corn chowder. Always alone.

A lot of the scientists, especially the ones without family or kids, moved to Selunia Falls by themselves. But they usually found a lunch group before long. Coming in alone day after day, like Rainbow did, for weeks on end — that was rare. Sadie thought she was pretty good at reading others. She spent a lot of time people watching during her breaks at the cafe. And her read of Rainbow was that he didn’t want to be alone but he didn’t know how to take the first step.

“The town holds it every year. See?” Sadie showed him some pictures on her phone. She wore a different costume every year. In some of the pictures, she wore a bright yellow gown. In others, she was an archer, complete with longbow. There was even one year where she dressed as a valkyrie — which she was pretty sure wasn’t actually from the Renaissance but the costume had been too cool to pass up.

“You have to get dressed up to go?”

“Nah. I dress up every year for it, but a lot of people don’t. They go for some fake medieval food, some concerts. There’s lots of stuff there.”

“Well… I don’t know.”

“I can introduce you to some of my friends.”

“I don’t think I should.”

For the rest of lunch he avoided eye contact, focusing intensely on his corn chowder.

Maybe Sadie hadn’t been as good at reading people as she thought. Maybe he hadn’t been lonely — he had just been a loner.

Maybe Sadie had overstepped.

When she came by to pick up the finished bowl, she apologized. “I’m sorry–”

“How do I find you?” Rainbow interrupted.

“What?”

“When I get to the Renaissance Faire. How do I find you?”

Sadie reached out her hand. “Give me your phone.” She lifted his phone extra high and held it close to her face to hide her smile as she entered her number.

---

It was early in the afternoon and the heat was making Sadie itchy. She squirmed in her chain mail and it rattled around her.

She and her friends were loitering just inside the entrance to the Renaissance Faire. As usual, some of their group were late. Sadie gulped down more water. Somehow she’d already gone through half her bottle and the day had barely started.

No more metal armor, she thought. Ever.

“That’s so cool! Do it again.” One of their group, Tannen, was speaking to Maddy, a girl who looked like a princess in her flowing blue dress. The skirt was long, flowing over the grass, the heavy layers of fabric dragging along. The sheer sleeves in the upper arms flared out, giving her an ethereal beauty.

Maddy adjusted something hidden in her costume. The fabric twisted, and the dress shrunk down to a sun dress, becoming sleeveless, with the hem coming down to her knee. “Much more comfortable,” she said. “It’s so hot today.” She changed to the princess dress again, reveling in the amazement. “It’s nanomaterials,” she explained. “I’ve got some other ideas of what I could do with this.”

“What about yours?” Tannen said to Sadie. “Does your armor do anything?” The metal rustled as Sadie shifted, accidentally reflecting a bit of light directly onto Tannen’s face, and he shielded his eyes with his arm.

“Not really. I mean, besides that I made it myself too.”

“Oh.” Tannen said. He hesitated, then added lamely, “Well it still looks pretty cool. Good job.”

The scene repeated itself as more of their friends straggled in late. Maddy never tired of showing off her costume, and their friends never got tired of seeing it.

By the time everyone had finished assembling, Sadie was suddenly exhausted. “You know what,” she said. “I’m going to take a break for a while. You guys go ahead.”

“You sure you’re ok?” Tannen said.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Go.”

Sadie sat down on a nearby bench and checked her phone. Rainbow hadn’t texted. He was late, except he couldn’t be late because they had never agreed on a time to meet. Then Sadie wondered if all her metal armor was interfering with her phone signal, and she wasn’t sure, so she held onto the phone, outside her pocket, in case any messages came in.

---

Sadie bussed the table after another of the customers finished lunch and checked her phone again. It had only been two minutes. Maybe one of the scientists in the lab was running an experiment that was disrupting the flow of time itself. No. That was just silly.

Rainbow hadn’t shown up to the Renaissance Faire. But that wasn’t the worst part — it was the added indignity of not even bothering to text her to let her know that he couldn’t show up.

She mentally rehearsed what she was going to say, a speech that she had been writing and rewriting in her head the entire weekend. She checked the time again. Another two minutes.

“Hey, are you alright?” one of the other waiters asked.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press the issue. She went back to practicing her script for a bit, unable to get it right. Forget it, she thought. She would just give Rainbow the cold shoulder. One of the other waiters could cover his order.

The cafe door opened, and she looked while pretending not to look.

It wasn’t Rainbow.

Sadie let out a breath. She had to get over it, she told herself. This wasn’t healthy. But she did it again the next time another customer came in, and all the times after that.

The afternoon rolled on, and still Rainbow didn’t show up. At first she felt the rush of victory. He knows he’s going to get it if he shows up, she thought. But she felt oddly unsatisfied. She had come ready for a schoolyard fistfight, but the other kid hadn’t shown.

The next day passed, and then the next, and still Rainbow didn’t come in for lunch. Sadie knew she should take the win, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mind ran wild with possible disasters. Rainbow had gotten caught in an alternate dimension when his research had gone awry. Or Rainbow had gotten hit by a car on his way to the Renaissance Faire and he was now a John Doe in some hospital somewhere.

She had to find out what had happened.

Arden, the head of security at Selunia Falls, was a regular at Anna’s Cafe, and the next time he came in, Sadie ambushed him. “Do you know that man who used to have lunch here every day? He used to sit in that corner all the time.”

Arden took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with a triple caffeinated coffee. “What about him?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yes.” Arden saw that she was waiting for him to elaborate. “Sadie, you know I can’t invade someone else’s privacy.”

“Did you know he just showed up out of nowhere a few weeks ago?”

“Also yes.”

“Is he fine at least?”

“Yes.” Arden refused to say more than that.

But being a waitress at the most popular cafe in town had its advantages — one of them being friends with pretty much everyone important in town — even if the friendships were a bit superficial and were closer to acquaintanceships. And so after some quiet inquiries, Sadie found herself outside Rainbow’s house on a Saturday afternoon.

She double checked to make sure she had the right location. The houses here were cookie cutter, indistinguishable, a row of uniform paint jobs and manicured lawns, although that described much of Selunia Falls. The curtains of Rainbow’s house were drawn tight, and it didn’t look like anyone was home, but she knocked anyway.

To her surprise, someone answered.

The man wasn’t Rainbow, but the resemblance was there, too close to be just a roommate. She guessed that it was a brother, or maybe a cousin.

“Is Rainbow here?”

“No.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No,” he said, and before Sadie could say anything else, she found the door in her face.

That was rude, Sadie thought, but the man hadn’t denied knowing Rainbow. It must be the right house. She rounded back onto the sidewalk and hid behind some shrubs and tried to peer into the house. The windows were shut and the curtains were drawn. The house looked unoccupied. She stared, patiently, looking for any clues, as her muscles started to ache from squatting in the hiding spot.

Then, one of the curtains cracked a tiny bit, and though she only got a fleeting glimpse, she knew it was Rainbow. She was sure of it.

Her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket and she jumped a little, scratching her face on the hedges, though fortunately not hard enough to draw blood.

Come back tonight at 9pm. I will explain.

So Rainbow did have her phone number. Now Sadie had his number also.

Y did u ghost me?! Sadie texted back.

She didn’t really expect a response, and she didn’t get one.

---

Sadie’s steps echoed on the hardwood floors, and together with the thin moonlight seeping in through the back windows, made Rainbow’s house feel even more empty than it already was. It was a house sparsely furnished, the house of someone who had recently moved in and hadn’t gotten around to making it their own. Rainbow didn’t offer her a drink. He might not even have had any drinks, from the looks of it.

The silence drew on and lingered. Finally Sadie said, “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I…” Rainbow hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal to you.”

“Not a big deal?” Sadie had been a fool. Rainbow hadn’t been in any kind of accident. He was just fine, and she had been ditched again by yet another scientist. “I guess if it’s not a big deal to you, it’s not a big deal to me.” She turned to leave.

“I didn’t think you’d even notice. I see you in the cafe. You’re friends with everyone.”

“Friends?” Sadie laughed at the absurdity. “I’m nice to them because it’s part of my job. I’m never going to be friends with them. I’m not a genius like they are. I’m an outsider. Sure, they try to include me but they always end up talking about their work.”

“I didn’t know you were an outsider too.” Rainbow looked chastened.

“The difference is that you don’t have to be. You speak scientist talk. You choose to be an outsider.”

“No. I’m not from here. I didn’t choose that.”

“No one’s from here. Everyone knows the government set up this town to do some kind of research. Probably military or some other kind of weapons research. It’s the worst kept secret.”

“I mean I’m not from here. This planet.”

Sadie blinked at him in confusion, unsure how to respond. She felt like she had never misread someone so badly. “Ok, I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’m leaving.”

“Wait, listen. Why do you think the town was set up in this specific location?”

“I dunno. Cheap land. Close enough to get supplies, not close enough for tourists.”

“It’s because the bridge to my homeworld is here.”

Sadie studied him closely but could find nothing out of the ordinary. “What do you mean homeworld? How do you look human if you’re not human? Are you a shapeshifter?”

“Our scientists haven’t figured that out yet.”

It had been such an obvious question, and yet he hadn’t bothered to work out a cover story for it. If he was a liar, he was a terrible one. But he couldn’t be telling the truth — the whole idea was too fantastical. Still, he said it with such earnestness that Sadie was almost starting to believe.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Rainbow stared out the window. For a few moments it was quiet. It was all a joke, Sadie thought. Any moment now, Rainbow would laugh, and it was going to be another of those weird scientist humor things she didn’t quite find funny…

“I could show you where I’m from,” Rainbow said quietly.

“We’re going to travel to another world?”

“No, our scientists haven’t figured out how to travel back through the rift either. But I’ll show you where it is.”

---

Rainbow explained more on the drive from his house to the forest at the edge of town. They called themselves the Karazai, and yes, he had been serious when he’d said he picked out his own name. He knew other Karazai had migrated over, but he wasn’t sure how many — occasionally another one would find their way through the rift. He had come through with his father.

“That guy was your father?” Sadie said as the car pulled to a stop. “He’s almost the same age as you!”

“He’s much older. We don’t age at the same rate humans do.”

They approached a station, where they got into a golf cart. Rainbow punched in an access code. The cart activated, and he steered them along the trail. The summer air was warm, even at night, and the breeze felt good on Sadie’s face.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve hiked this trail before,” Sadie said.

“It’s a popular trail,” Rainbow said.

“I don’t see how there’s any place to hide a secret gateway here.”

“You’ll see.” They continued on in silence for a while, when Rainbow suddenly pulled off the trail into a thicket of trees.

“Hey, watch it!” Sadie said. She held onto the golf cart so tightly that she lost feeling in her hand. “We’re going to die!” But then Sadie noticed that despite all the foliage, there was actually a separate trail here, well hidden. The dirt and leaves were matted against the ground and it seemed well used. Rainbow guided the cart expertly, even in the darkness.

Onward they drove. Sadie hadn’t even known the forest extended this deep. The forest thinned out a bit now, and it was clear there were multiple side trails leading to different parts. Rainbow followed one, and off they went.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” Sadie said.

“Technically they didn’t say I was allowed to show people. But, they didn’t say I was not allowed to show people either.”

Sadie had lost track of how long they’d been driving, when they stopped at the edge of a clearing. The trees gave way to flat grass, and she could see the stars up in the sky. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though she did notice that it seemed eerily quiet. There were no insects chirping, no wind to stir the leaves. The only sound were her shoes as they squished slightly into the ground.

“I don’t see it,” Sadie said.

“You see that dark streak in the middle?”

Sadie didn’t know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a hazy black brush mark that was barely noticeable. “That’s it?”

“Well it shines when the gate opens. But yeah, that’s it.”

There was a rustling nearby.

“Is someone else supposed to be here?” Sadie whispered.

Rainbow didn’t respond, but instead pulled the both of them back behind the trees. Sadie could barely make out a shadow approaching from the other side of the clearing. She wondered if it was another one of those Karazai aliens. Not that she would be able to tell, since they looked like humans apparently.

“Rainbow, I know you’re out there,” the voice called out. Sadie recognized that voice. It was Arden, head of security.

Rainbow motioned to Sadie to stay back with a wave of his arm. He stepped out into the open. “How did you know I was here?”

“GPS on the golf cart. And your access code used to activate it,” Arden said. “What are you doing out here?”

“Feeling a bit nostalgic, a bit restless. Felt like going for a drive.”

“I know the feeling,” Arden said. He looked up at the rift. “You think it’s going to open soon?”

“I’ve been tracking it. But so far, haven’t found any kind of pattern.”

“Well, let’s try to figure it out.” Arden searched the clearing, seeming to sense that Rainbow wasn’t alone. Sadie held her breath. Just when she thought she was clear, Arden called out. “Sadie.”

She stepped out. No point in making a run for it.

“So you told her,” Arden said to Rainbow. “Why did you tell her to hide?”

“I wasn’t sure she was allowed to be here.”

“I said you could trust her.” Arden turned to Sadie. “And I trust you won’t tell any outsiders about what’s going on.”

Outsiders. Sadie might never belong in Selunia Falls, but now the secret of Selunia Falls — the rift — belonged to her. “Why did you show this to me?”

“Because. Everyone needs someone they can talk to,” Arden said. “You have a good night now.” With that, he left the two of them to gaze up at the night sky.

Reena cringed as the bag of chips crinkled loudly in her hand as she picked it up. She held up the bag, making a face when she realized it was BBQ-flavored chips, before turning her body toward the end of the aisle. She tilted her head, pretending to pore over the ingredients list, as her eyes tracked behind the bag and to the woman a short distance behind it.

The woman continued to peruse the dips, oblivious to Reena’s attention. She reached for the ranch dip and pushed back wavy locks from her face as she inspected its ingredients. The woman tilted her head, her face scrunched in a familiar manner.

Familiar, because this woman was an impossibility. A deviant. A glitch in the system that was Reena’s universe.

Her doppelgänger.

Reena had seen her doppelgänger twice before. The first time was when her doppelgänger jogged past her through the town square. Reena had spun around, but couldn’t get a good glimpse before she turned the corner. The second time was at Anna’s Cafe, when Reena was using the cafe’s WiFi before her condo had internet set up. Reena had watched from her corner booth as her doppelgänger ordered a matcha latte to go. She kept her distance, lest the universe resolve their paradox in an implosive way.

Selunia Falls was, after all, an odd and mysterious place.

But there was no doubt about it. From her vantage point down the aisle, she could tell her doppelgänger had strikingly similar features as her: same wavy locks, same heart-shaped face, and even an exact outfit right down to the black Converse that were staples for Reena’s off-duty attire.

And her doppelgänger had picked out ranch dip. Also Reena’s favorite.

Her doppelgänger put back the dip and slipped out of the aisle. Reena jogged along the aisle. She looked left and right, but her doppelgänger was nowhere to be seen. Reena walked toward the store’s exit, trying to look casual, peering down each aisle as she went.

Perhaps she went outside? Reena shoved through a group of people entering the store.

“Ma’am?”

Reena spun around. A lanky attendant approached her, an apologetic look in his face. Reena snapped. “What?”

The attendant pointed at the bag of chips Reena clutched in her hand. “You’ll need to pay for that.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” 

The attendant hesitated, his eyes fixated on Reena’s police badge, as if it were a shield that made her impervious to having to pay. Reena was tempted to return the bag of disgusting BBQ chips. There was no way she was going to finish the bag of chips, let alone by herself. But her pride got the better of her and she allowed the attendant to ring up the bag. She then hastily shoved the bag in her backpack and strode to the exit. 

A refreshing breeze helped clear her head outside. She headed toward the town hall, where her current assignment was today. She paused before one of Selunia Falls’ churches, one of a handful of religious centers for the town’s practicing denizens. The building was constructed from the same ubiquitous material of the houses, with the same mold as a bowling alley, just with a cross plopped on the top. Reena scratched the back of her hand anxiously, idly wondering if religious tenants extended across the universe. Did heaven open its gates to all creatures? Did hell? Reena gave the cross one last look before pulling up her jacket’s collar and turning away from the church.

At the town hall, Reena tapped her foot impatiently as the security guards inspected the credentials in her laminated card before waving her through the security line. She took the stairs up and prowled through the hallway toward a large balcony. A man leaned on his forearms against the rail, his back towards Reena. He turned when she approached him and beamed a crooked smile. “Good morning, Reena.”

“Arden.” Reena nodded at him. She peered over the rail to the courtyard below, where several people were congregated, their voices filling the space. To any other observer, the crowd would appear to be a normal crowd.

But Reena knew it was anything but normal.

“Are you ready to finally meet them?” Arden asked.

Them. Reena nodded her head, keeping her face impassive.

These people were Karazai. From another planet.

Another planet!

Arden’s eyes followed her gaze before returning back to her. “I take it you read the briefing?” His voice was tentative.

Reena let out the breath she was holding. “I have.” 

Several weeks ago, Reena had sat on the floor of her furnitureless living room and pored over pages and pages of documents, signing NDAs until her hand was sore. The NDAs were just a formality really, as Reena’s penchant for secrecy was what landed her this job in the first place.

Not that she wanted to talk about any of her past service as a spy. The lives taken. The lives ruined. Reena scratched her hand again idly. Secrecy was the easy part.

But another species? That shared this universe? That looked similar to us? She couldn’t wrap her head around any of this. 

“Any thoughts about your assignment?” Arden asked.

“I’ll admit it’s a lot to process,” Reena confessed. “An extraterrestrial race living among us. That’s something you only read about in science fiction books.”

Arden nodded. “It’s both scary and exhilarating.”

“Exhilarating” isn’t the word I’d pick, Reena thought as she returned her gaze back to the crowd below. Reena wondered who she was sworn to protect—us, or them?

Reena ran her eyes over the crowd. They look just like us.

“Maybe more scary?” Arden offered, as though sensing her discomfort.

Reena snapped back to attention. She shifted nervously. “It’s just a little… freaky.” She looked at Arden beseechingly. “Don’t you think? We have no idea their past, yet we’re supposed to welcome them with open arms.”

Arden leaned back against the rail and sipped on his coffee. “They come in peace.”

Reena sighed at Arden, her eyes darting back to the crowd. “This isn’t some E.T. crap. This is real life. With real consequences. And—” She froze.

It was her again. Her doppelgänger stood in the middle of a crowd, laughing and smiling with others.

Reena sucked in a breath. Could it be? Could her doppelgänger be Karazai?

No. It can’t be.

Arden turned to Reena. “Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” Reena said quickly. A thought crossed her mind. “Do Karazai have shapeshifting abilities?”

Arden gave her a quizzical look. “That’s an odd question. None that we’re aware of.”

“Or none that they would tell you,” Reena muttered, unable to suppress the sneer that laced her words.

Arden squinted at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Reena said sharply.

Arden fell silent at Reena’s brisk response. He casted his gaze at the crowd below, his eyes searching. Reena’s eyes were locked on her doppelgänger as her doppelgänger chatted and laughed with a levity in her movements and a smile that came easy.

How did she fit in so easily, given she’s from a different planet? What was her secret? Reena bitterly wondered if her doppelgänger had seen the same ugliness that Reena had in her lifetime.

Reena watched in brooding silence as the crowd below slowly began to disperse toward the exits. After a few more shared laughs, her doppelgänger headed toward an exit.

Arden straightened up, gulping down the last of his coffee. “Looks like their event is over. I’ll grab their leader—”

“I have to go.” Reena ran toward the exit before Arden could say anything else. She raced downstairs toward a double door that led to the parking lot, where her doppelgänger had disappeared. Through the doors, Reena quickened her pace from a jog to a run. She didn’t have to look far to spot her doppelgänger walking toward the street.

Perhaps it was Reena’s labored breathing, or the pounding of her boots on the pavement, or the universe about to implode. Something caught her doppelgänger’s attention, causing her to turn her head toward Reena. Eyes wide in fear, her doppelgänger turned back around and scrambled to a run.

Reena’s had seen this scene hundreds of times in her ten years of espionage. Yet all her training and composure went out the window. “Stop!” she yelled as she took off in a sprint after her doppelgänger. I must know how you exist! She quickly closed the space between her and her doppelgänger—universe be damned!—“Wait!”

A loud HONK rang out and reverberated down to Reena’s bones. Reena froze, her eyes wide at the truck barreling straight toward her. Her brain screamed at her to move, but her body stood petrified.

Then someone yanked Reena forcefully, sending them both flying across the pavement. Reena landed hard on her left arm, sharp gravel cutting her skin. The car screeched to a stop past where she had stood. The smell of burnt rubber assaulted her nose. 

Reena turned to her back, too stunned to get up from the pavement. The blurred shapes hovered over her, their concerned voices muffled as though underwater. 

Her savior stumbled to her feet beside her, her voice firm as she shooed away onlookers. Then, her savior kneeled over her, her face coming to view through the haze. 

Reena blinked, not immediately recognizing the face that peered down at her, even if it did haunt her the last few weeks. Bright brown eyes pierced and probed hers, before slowly pulling away. Could her doppelgänger see it, too? Reena braced herself as her doppelgänger opened her mouth to speak.

“Are you okay?” 

Her doppelgänger’s voice was deep—deeper than Reena’s—and husky, with a slight tinge of an accent Reena couldn’t place. Firm, but comforting—alarmingly so.

“Yeah.” Reena groaned as she sat up. She brought her hands up, inspecting the deep scratches in her raw skin from the gravel on the pavement. “Ow.”

“Come.” With a mighty heave, her doppelgänger pulled Reena to her feet and ushered her to the Edge Bar nearby.

Inside the bar’s restroom, her doppelgänger fussed over Reena’s wounds, running water while wiping and dabbing at Reena’s face. Reena had to shoo her doppelgänger away so she could tend to her own wounds. When she looked passably presentable, Reena said, “I could use a drink.”

Finding two empty seats at the bar wasn’t hard. It was, after all, only ten in the morning. Her doppelgänger sat at the far edge of the bar and signaled the bartender, who eyed them suspiciously—maybe even a little judgmentally. “Two whiskeys, please,” Reena mumbled.

If the bartender had any reservations about serving whiskeys in the morning, he kept it to himself. He grunted his acknowledgement before plopping two glasses in front of them and pouring. Reena knocked her glass back  in a single breath before signaling for more. She grunted an apology to her doppelgänger, who stared at her in awe. “Sorry, I really needed that.”

“It’s okay,” her doppelgänger said. She held her hand out. “My name is Malina.” When Reena looked at Malina’s hand suspiciously, Malina flashed an apologetic smile. “I heard this is what humans do when introducing themselves.”

“Reena.” Reena shook Malina’s hand. No implosion of the universe, just rough callused hands pressed against her scarred hands.

“So, Reena.” Malina sat back on her chair, her eyes sizing up Reena. “Why were you following me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Reena gestured to her face. When Malina gave her a blank stare, Reena explained, “We look alike.”

Malina squinted, her eyes running across Reena’s face. “I guess I see the similarities.”

“You guess?” Reena snorted. “You didn’t will your appearance to look like me?”

“‘Will’ my appearance?” Malina laughed. When Reena didn’t laugh back, Malina asked gently. “What madness is this?”

“You must have shape-shifting abilities,” Reena said firmly.

Malina chuckled. “And even if we did, why would I do that?”

“To— for—” Reena fumbled with her words. “Because!”—she groaned— “To pretend you are me!”

Malina blinked. “Why?” she repeated.

“To gain access to top secret places! To escape here!” Reena grasped for words, flustered that the right words eluded her.

Malina just stared at her. “You must know how crazy you sound, right?”

“You have no idea what I’ve seen people do,” Reena said, her voice dark. “What people would do to accomplish their goals.”

The air of levity around Malina deflated, as her infectious smile pulled down to a frown. Reena settled back in a satisfied smirk, expecting Malina’s real character to shine through like the phony Reena knew she was. 

In a hoarse voice, Malina said, “I’m sorry for what you’ve seen.”

The sincerity of Malina’s croaked voice disarmed Reena. Guilt flooded in where Reena’s defenses used to be. Reena shrugged, her voice faltering as she said, “It’s a lot to take in. A whole new species, with a culture we don’t know.” She peered at Malina. “I need to understand what motivates you. Is it science? Is it religion? What keeps you from doing bad things?” Reena’s eyes fell. “How do you know if you’re a good person?”

Malina leaned back, her arms crossed. “It’s a lot for us to take in as well. Being abandoned by our planet. Trying to make do with what we have.” She paused. “I guess what keeps us from doing bad things is that we are still people, after all.”

Reena opened her mouth, and shut it, unsure what to say. She lowered her eyes to her glass, her voice quiet. “I guess I never thought about it from your point of view.”

Malina shrugged. “If you’re interested, I can tell you more about my home planet.” Wistfulness tinged Malina’s voice, but with a flicker of a smile failed to meet her eyes.

Reena raised her glass to Malina. “To Karazai.” When Malina eyed it suspiciously, Reena explained. “You tap your drink to mine.”

“What for?” Malina asked.

“To toast.”

“‘Toast?’”

“Yeah.” Reena tilted her head thoughtfully. “I believe it’s a gesture to cheer for the future, while also acknowledging the past.”

Malina hesitated. A smile spread across her face. “To Earth.” She tapped her drink against Reena’s with a solid clink. “Did I do that right?” she asked sheepishly, her face scrunched.

“That’s right,” Reena said, a smile tugging her lips. She sipped her drink, letting the liquid warm her as she watched her doppelgänger over the rim of her glass. It was as if she really saw Malina for the first time. Malina’s features were sharper than Reena’s. She had appeared petite at a distance, but up close she was actually tall with a slight frame.

Reena chuckled to herself as she put her glass down. Her doppelgänger—no, Malina—was her own person, with her own history. The cracks on her hand, the freckles on her nose—those told a story much different than Reena’s.

Malina placed her glass on the counter. She folded her hands together and smiled. “So. Where would you like to begin?”