Jillian gave a small scream of frustration. “We can’t call him and say ‘If you have a cousin named Alexander, Sparrow is going to try to kidnap her and kill the viceroy.’ What if it isn’t him and we just told a stranger this secret that could get him killed?”
April motioned for her to stay calm. “Are you really, really sure that you understood what they were saying — in French?”
“Qu’est-ce que vous ne comprenez pas dans je parle Français couramment?” Jillian shouted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” April said. “Look, there’s nothing we can do today. It’s probably too late for me to get train tickets to Elfhome; normally the seats are booked months in advance. I can try, but we shouldn’t count on it. Usually if I want to go home for Christmas, I have to get the tickets before March. I’ll probably have to drive down a few days before Shutdown and hope I can get through.”
“Couldn’t you fly in?” Louise knew that the airport still operated, but she’d never heard of flights into Pittsburgh. Airports equaled planes, though, didn’t they?
“No. Passenger flights aren’t allowed in the airspace during Shutdown. Everything in and out is either cargo or military planes, and that’s only after dawn. There’s always some residual magic in the zone, and it wreaks havoc on mechanical systems. The risk is too high for passenger flights.”
“They have to let you through, don’t they?” Jillian asked. “You’re a native Pittsburgher!”
April added more rum to her drink. “Yes, but this isn’t driving across the river to New Jersey. This is going to another planet. Elfhome. The world of elves. Different stars. Different moon — well — looks the same, but it’s not the same moon. Totally different sun. Not our world.”
“Yes, but you can drive to it,” Jillian pressed.
“It’s like going to another country.” April took a drink and shuddered slightly. “Canada or Mexico — if they dropped off the face of the planet for thirty days at a time. There’s only four highways still connected to Pittsburgh. A concrete trench and three fences topped with barbwire surround the rest of the area. Even returning residents need a passport, and all vehicles are searched for stowaways. Trucks start to line up two days before Shutdown in special parking lots, and they have first priority for getting in and out. New EIA employees are second-level clearance, and scientists are third. I’ll be last in line.”
“So you might not get in?” Jillian started to cry. Louise struggled not to start, too.
“Oh, oh, don’t do that. Here, have ice cream.” April pulled out several pints of Häagen Dazs, three bowls, and a half dozen spoons.
Louise couldn’t see how ice cream could help, but April did have exotic flavors like Bananas Foster, Caramel Cone, and Midnight Cookies and Cream. The last proved to be fudge and chocolate wafer cookies in chocolate ice cream. The twins were distracted by sampling each of the flavors.
“I have one edge: I’m a native Pittsburgher.” April hunted through the freezer and added Dulce de Leche and Rum Raisin to the selection. “Normally the last hour or so, the only vehicles they let through are the returning residents.”
Louise gasped as she realized that if April went to warn Alexander, she probably would have to stay until the next Shutdown to come back. “What about your work?”
“I might lose my job over this.” April took a big swallow of her Coke and rum and winced. “Oh, that’s strong.”
“I’m sorry,” Louise said.
“It’s okay. It’s a crappy job. I’ve been meaning to look for another.”
“We could call. . someone,” Jillian said. “There’s Esme’s sister, Lain. She’s in Pittsburgh. She could warn Alexander.”
“I don’t know if Lain knows about Alexander.” April waved her spoon loaded with Bananas Foster. “Esme didn’t want me to tell her family. And phones are very unreliable during Shutdown. All of Pittsburgh tries to call out to do business that one day a month. You basically start dialing at midnight and listen to ‘all connections are busy, please try again later’ for a couple of hours. No, no, don’t cry! I’m going to drive to Pittsburgh!”
“You said you might not get through!” Jillian wailed.
“I can call people while I’m waiting at the border. I won’t have anything better to do. My whole family still lives in Pittsburgh. My mom and dad, my uncle and three cousins — I’ll call them all. They still live just across the river from Old Man Bell. I’ll have one of them go over and warn Alexander and see about maybe getting her to Earth. She can stay with me.”
“Really?”
“It probably would have ruined both our lives if I had tried to keep her when she was a baby. I was stupid young and had a lot of growing up to do. I couldn’t even keep a plant alive. Old Man Bell, he has a world of patience and was ready to make Alexander his entire world. But I always regretted having to let her go.”
If or rather when they found surrogate mothers for the babies, would they be able to let them go? April had done the hard thing because it was better for Alexander. Whatever they chose for the babies, they had to remember to do what was best for them.
“We should go home,” Jillian announced, pushing away her empty bowl.
April snagged her purse from off the floor by the couch. “Okay, I’ll take you home.”
“We can take the train.” Louise wasn’t sure how sober April was.
“What kind of mother would I be if I let you go home on a train alone at this time of night?”
“You’re not our mother,” Jillian pointed out.
“I could have been.” April was completely right there. A fraction of an inch in the right direction and they would have been born eighteen years ago. “Come on.” April paused at the door, wavering. “Remind me to let the car drive itself.”
23: Shutdown
The alarm woke Louise. She lay in the darkness for a minute, confused. Then she remembered that it was Shutdown and Pittsburgh was back on Earth. They had gone to bed early so they could spend all night trying to reach Orville, assuming that he was the Wright listed in the phone book. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she made out Jillian sitting on her bed, sheets piled around her, face illuminated by the screen of her phone. A quiet voice said, “All circuits are busy, please try again later.” Jillian grunted as if hit, and her fingers moved on her phone’s keyboard.
“Go back to sleep,” Jillian said after her third attempt got the same error message. “I’ll wake you up if I get through.”
“I want to stay awake.”
“If I don’t get through before three, you’re going to have to take over trying to get through. We have to keep trying until midnight tomorrow.”
April had said that it was unlikely they would get through during the first few hours, but it was upsetting to think that three hours might go by without success.
It was still dark when Jillian woke Louise. “I didn’t get through. I never even got a connection.”
“April got to the border Saturday; she’ll get in,” Louise said with more confidence than she felt. She glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty. Jillian had let her sleep an extra half hour. They needed to be awake for school at five-thirty. Louise reset the alarm.
By failure number seven, Jillian was breathing deeply.
The world was strangely quiet as Louise sat dialing her phone. It seemed as if the whole world were holding its breath, just as afraid for her sister as she was.
At four twenty-three, the phone clicked instead of immediately giving Louise a recording. Her heart leaped up and then sunk down to her toes as it gave a standard busy signal. She hung up and redialed. It clicked, and after a moment of silence, gave a busy signal again. Her heart had done the same dizzying loop of up and down and back to rest.