Mara felt a strong resistance as her hand entered the wormhole, almost like magnets repelling each other. The harder she pushed, the greater the pushback. She was ready to ask if this happened before when she felt Anna almost yanked from her grasp.
“No!”
She grabbed onto Anna with both hands and pulled with all her strength. No use. Whatever force had ahold of Anna on the other side was pulling her deeper into the wormhole. Mara tried diving in headfirst but felt more resistance, like fabric stretching to its breaking point.
“No, no, no!” Mara cried out as she struggled.
Her fingers started to slip. She placed her leg against the wall of the cave to brace herself and pulled back with all her strength—then her fingers felt nothing. The last of Anna disappeared into the dense blackness.
“Anna!”
In desperation, Mara primed her vortex cannon and fired at the wormhole. The second she released, she knew she had made a mistake. Compressed air bounced off the granite wall and knocked Mara back out into the lake, her body spinning.
For the next hour, she tried to force herself into the wormhole until her muscles ached and sweat streamed down inside her face mask.
<Mara>
She ignored SID’s voice.
<Mara. You need to rest. You’re not thinking clearly.>
“I can’t lose her. I can’t,” Mara said.
<Anna survived the wormhole before. She can do it again.>
“Why did it take her and not me?”
<Mara. Please rest.>
Hours passed and still no sign. Mara sat at the edge of the lake, hugging her knees to her chest and looking out across the calm waters. Temperatures had dipped down to the low sixties, and Mara felt herself shivering, less from the cool air and more from an overwhelming feeling of tension and loss. Stars still lined the sky in the west, but a thin gold band of light outlined the trees in the east. As night quickly disappeared, so did Mara’s hope for Anna’s return.
Just then, bubbles floated to the water’s surface off the island’s edge. Mara caught her breath. She looked down into the water. The ripples caused by the bubbles quickly faded away, leaving the surface once again like glass. Then more bubbles. Mara stood up, her legs numb from sitting for hours in the same position. This time she could make out a light.
Suddenly, the lake surface exploded, spraying water into the early morning light. Anna flew free in the air for just a moment, her body arcing across the sky to land hard on the ground and roll to a stop near Mara’s feet. Anna lay on her back and looked up into Mara’s face.
“Hey,” Anna said, her voice hoarse and weak.
Mara’s legs buckled, a physical reaction to a sudden release of pent-up stress—relief cutting the strings that had been holding her up. She fell to her knees and embraced Anna hard.
“Ouch,” Anna cried out. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“I’m so sorry. I would have never left you. I don’t know what happened,” Mara said. “I tried to follow you. I really tried.”
“I know.”
“Are you okay?” Mara asked.
She placed one hand behind Anna’s neck to support her while she scanned for injuries. Her young friend’s clothes were still wet. Black sand clung to her shirt, and strange dewdrop-shaped leaves were matted in her hair. What concerned Mara most was the thick trail of blood that had caked above Anna’s lip. Mara clicked the release on Anna’s mask and removed her goggles.
“Whew—that’s better,” Anna said as she took in the cool early-morning air. “It feels good to breathe.”
“You’re bleeding,” Mara said.
“I am? Oh yeah. I forgot,” Anna said as she reached up to wipe the trail of dried blood. “I guess my body doesn’t like hypergravity.”
“What?”
Anna was ready to answer when she looked down at her arms and hands in the predawn light. Lights dotted her clothes and skin like a constellation of stars. Glistening blue and green lights. Traces from the world she had just visited.
“Anna. You’re glowing,” Mara said.
“Oh, Mara—do I have a story to tell you,” Anna said, the strangeness and wonder of that distant world still reflected in her eyes.