The Karma box, with its enticing green button, sat on the carpet in the middle.
“I’m sad that Gretel couldn’t be here with us,” Master George said. “She was needed in the Third Reality. But I’ve decided to put my trust in her findings and research and . . . this invention . . . at this time of dire need. The box will channel the Karma that she so dearly loved to study, and once we have it within our grasp, I believe we’ll be able to figure out the best way to use it.”
He shot a glance at Paul, then Sofia, then at the stack of Gretel’s notes piled next to them. Paul was thrilled that the two of them were being entrusted with something so important.
“I need everyone in this room to understand the gravity of the decision I’ve made,” George continued. “Karma is nothing more than a concept. A theory. Even those I deemed experts on the mysterious substance were making educated guesses at best, dreamy wishes at worst. But they are people I trust implicitly. I believe their educated guesses may be more reliable than the most researched, documented theories of the world’s renowned scientists. In my heart, I believe this complicated device is going to do something extraordinary. And that it will help us.”
“Then let’s get on with it,” Paul muttered, trying to lighten the mood. “Time’s a wastin’. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Better to waste time than people’s bloomin’ lives, it is,” Mothball countered drily, her eyes not even looking up from the floor.
George cut in before Paul could respond. “I wouldn’t take this risk unless I thought the risk was worth it. I fear we’ve reached a time of desperation, and if we wait much longer, the damage may be too great to reverse. Especially with the troubling observations Master Sato made in the Thirteenth Reality.”
“Sofia and I will figure out what to do with it,” Paul urged. His hands were sweaty with anticipation. “Please just push the button. Please.”
“I need everyone here to—” George began.
Rutger cut him off. “Boss. You’re stalling. We wouldn’t all be sitting here on the floor like kids at bedtime if we weren’t committed. The boy is right. Push the button. We can trust Gretel that it will work.”
“Very well.”
George fidgeted in his seat, wrung his hands and cracked his knuckles, then wriggled some more. No one said a word, and Paul leaned forward. Their leader finally reached out and picked up the small metal box, gingerly, as though it were a bomb that might accidentally go off. He placed it on the floor again, right in front of his crossed legs.
“Here goes nothing,” he said. “Now, something I chose not to share with you, Master Paul, is that only two people in the Realities can push the button—me and Gretel. The device was built to read our DNA signature before it will compress. I must say, I’m quite proud that you didn’t fail my test and try to do it yourself.”
“Oh,” was all Paul said in response. Relief filled him from top to bottom.
“But once it’s pushed,” George continued, “I want you and Sofia to take it and keep it with you at all times as you study the power. The Karma will be focused on the source—the box itself—and, therefore, on whoever holds it.” He waited for Sofia’s nod. Then Paul’s. “Right. Here we go, then. May the Realities smile upon us on this troubled, troubled day.”
“And Karma,” Paul added.
Master George reached a hand to the box, pressed his thumb against the top of the button, waited a second, then pushed it all the way down.
Chapter 49
Bending and Warping
There was a very distinct click when the button went down. It was louder than it should’ve been, it seemed to Paul, the quick bang echoing off the ceiling of the room. There were no other sounds but the crackling of the fire. Everyone else was too busy holding their breath to make a noise, waiting to see what happened.
Master George had a wide look of expectation on his face, his eyebrows raised to their fullest. He slowly and carefully removed his thumb from the button and pulled his hand back into his lap. The button didn’t pop back up but instead remained inside the box, so that only the green circle of its top was visible. He handed it to Sofia.
“Hide this away,” the man said. “Guard it with your life.”
She nodded. “I feel something tingling across my skin.”
Paul felt it, too, just barely. He strained his ears to hear anything and his eyes to see anything. Sometimes Chi’karda presented itself in the form of an orange cloud or misty sparkles. He wondered if Karma would do the same sort of thing. He hoped so—he wouldn’t be able to stand it if all he felt was this tingle, no visible confirmation that something was happening. He stared, and listened, and felt with his other senses. Waited.