Jane, Unlimited

“I can still hear them screaming,” Ravi says.

“Well, I hadn’t come to appreciate yet the dangers of moving highly Unlimited creatures into uncorrelated Limited Dimensions. I’ve since refined my calculations. Of course it would upset a small boy. But honestly, Ravi, that was so long ago. Your tenth birthday!”

“Twelfth,” says Ravi.

“Eons ago,” says Mrs. Thrash. “Anyway, Janie, I’ll explain everything. Basically, what we’ve discovered is a thermodynamically reversible quantum boundary that allows for local recoherence. Boom! Interdimensional portals.”

“Oh my god, Mum,” says Ravi. “No one understands what you just said.”

“Too technical?”

“At least offer her an analogy first!”

“Schr?dinger’s frog? Quantum superposition?”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” says Ravi, turning to Jane. “Do you know much quantum physics?”

“Not much beyond the basics,” says Jane.

“Well, all you really need to know is that everything that could conceivably happen does happen, somewhere, in alternate universes across the multiverse. So, you can imagine the possibilities. And Mum—together with a bunch of alternate Mums—has found a portal to cross from one to another. I mean, plenty of other universes have had portals before this, but this is the first known portal that allows travel to and from our universe.”

“If I’m being honest,” says the first Mrs. Thrash as she reaches the next level of the tower, “we can’t entirely explain how the portals work. But, observably, they do.”

Jane has decided to stop listening to all the nonsense. She’s focusing hard on her surroundings instead. This level of the tower is much like the one below, square with small windows and another spiral staircase leading up to yet another level, though that level is closed off by a bright red trapdoor in the ceiling that has an impressive number of locks. There’s a largish bed positioned against one wall. Next to it is a bedside table piled with dozens of haphazardly balanced paperback books. Romance novels. A pair of doors beyond the bed probably leads to a bathroom, or a closet, or both.

An animal is moving under the deep red bedcovers, a large cat or a small dog. It wriggles its way to the edge, slides down the side, and emerges into the light head-first. It scuttles forward on all fours, then balances itself on its hind legs. It stares at Jane suspiciously, with a canted face and blinking eyes. It’s got a lizard head, a tail fully as long as its body, and a coat of fine feathers. Jane has been to the museums, she’s seen the TV shows. She understands that she’s looking at a miniature velociraptor.

*

Jane wakes to find herself staring at the red door in the ceiling, the one with all the locks. She’s lying on the first Mrs. Thrash’s bed. She’s woozy, but otherwise unhurt.

She remembers now: She saw a velociraptor and suddenly had no legs. Ravi and Mrs. Thrash caught her. Fainting, while dramatic in stories, turns out to be deeply unpleasant in real life.

There’s a warm presence nestled against her left side. It quietly yips as it breathes. Jane has only just woken; she doesn’t have the fortitude yet to cope with the fact that she’s being snuggled by a velociraptor.

“Ravi?” she says.

His voice rises absently from the armchair in the corner of the room. “Mm?” He pushes himself up and comes to Jane, eyebrows deeply furrowed. In one hand, he holds an open romance novel. “You’re awake,” he says. “Feeling okay?”

“What the hell, Ravi,” Jane says. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just what we told you. Would it help if you pretend you’re inside a Doctor Who episode? It’ll take a minute, but just go with it,” Ravi says. “Listen to this passage, does this sound realistic to you? The main character, her name is Delphine, says, ‘I wouldn’t have you if you were the last man in East Riordan,’ and this man named Lord Enderby says, ‘You are the only woman in East Riordan. My darling, you’re the only woman in my world. We were meant for each other, can’t you see?’ Then Delphine is overcome and starts kissing him and shrieking.”

“Does she?” Jane says, becoming conscious of another warm, yipping presence resting against her ankles. Also a larger, warmer, silent presence against one knee. That one is Jasper.

“Why does my mother read this stuff?” says Ravi.

“You’re reading it.”

“Critically!” Ravi says.

“Maybe she reads it critically too.”

“I wonder if other versions of my mother read this crap,” Ravi says in annoyance. “I suppose there are versions of her that do every kind of thing. Like, there must be versions of her that aren’t even scientists and versions who don’t even know they have portals, just as there must be infinite universes where she doesn’t exist at all. There’s so much we don’t know about the multiverse yet. And you’ll notice I’m focusing on my mother, not me. I’m extremely uninterested in thinking about all the multiple versions of me.”

“Ravi.” Jane’s chest is tightening. Her eyes are tearing up; she can’t breathe. “Ravi,” she whispers. “Just stop.”

*

The first Mrs. Thrash has it in her head that she needs to send Jane to an alternate-dimension Tu Reviens in order to prove to Jane that there are alternate dimensions. She promises to send Jane to one of the more similar dimensions, where the house and its inhabitants correspond closely enough that she’ll be able to communicate, but not so closely that she doesn’t feel like she’s left.

“Though of course,” says the first Mrs. Thrash, “most of the universes I’m able to visit correspond rather well. My portal, as far as I’ve experienced, will only send me through to dimensions that have a correlating Tu Reviens with a correlating portal in their tower. And for this house to have been created elsewhere in recognizable form, nearly an infinite number of correlations between universes needed to have occurred across time. Add to that the necessity of my own existence—a theoretical physicist with the time, means, and necessary genius to discover and activate the portal—at any rate, you’ll see, my dear. You’ll be very comfortable in UD17. Despite the alien invasion.”

“Alien invasion?” Jane is still in bed. “It’s really not necessary. I’m happy to believe in alternate dimensions from the comfort of my own dimension.”

An hour of resting and breathing has gone by and Jane is feeling somewhat calmer. She’s even taken to petting the velociraptors, cautiously. Their names are Pinky and Spotty, they’re still nestled against her side, and they like to yip gently at Jasper and touch him with their snouts.

But when Mrs. Thrash talks, it brings on that airless feeling again.

“I can see you’re afraid,” says Mrs. Thrash. “Exposure is an excellent tool for learning to overcome fear. If you’re afraid of spiders, jump into a pit of spiders. If you’re afraid of the existence of alternate dimensions, go on a tour of alternate dimensions.”

Slightly hysterical, Jane decides that the best way to defend herself from Mrs. Thrash’s designs is to act like she accepts everything and isn’t afraid of anything. She sits up in bed. The velociraptors, disturbed in their sleep, yip in confusion. Jane directs the calmest expression she can muster at Mrs. Thrash and also at Ravi, who has, in fact, been arguing with his mother to leave Jane in her own dimension, with a quiet steel in his manner.

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