Excerpt: The Solomon Map

A speaker crackled to life far above them. Dr. Voigt jumped again.

“This is your port operator speaking,” said a tinny, distant voice. “Please stand at least three meters away from your cargo and spread out so that there is at least one meter of open space surrounding each person. This is a safety precaution. One minute will be allowed for you to comply. If you are not in this position in one minute, the probability of an entanglement event will be increased.”

“Formation November,” Lyonova barked at her troops. “Move.” They immediately branched out and began circling around the rest of the team. She turned to Watson. “Civilians stay in the center. There is a possibility of hostile action on the other side. If there's danger, run to the vehicles and we will provide cover.”

Watson nodded, swallowing visibly. He'd heard this already, of course, dozens of times, along with hundreds of other scenarios. But this was the real thing. All their careful planning, their months of drawing up scenario predictions and solutions, was reduced to this one moment. No more plans, only action. And whatever happened, happened.

Watson ushered everyone into position. The soldiers surrounded them in a semicircle, leaving a route open to the vehicles. Jesse stepped away from Amy's side reluctantly. He saw Watson and Ms. Thiong'o giving each other a lingering look as they moved apart. Ms. Thiong'o's grip on her briefcase was pale-knuckled.

The speaker hissed to life again. “Please remain in position. Coordinates for First City receiving pad fixed. Electric lights will interfere with porting process. Cutting lights now. Do not be alarmed.”

Jesse didn't need to see it to know that Dr. Voight nearly jumped out of his skin when they were suddenly plunged into darkness. Jesse himself felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead and tasted bitter bile rising in his throat. He was used to porting, knew that it always happened in the dark. Electric circuits not a part of the porting process interfered with the port technology, and open flames were far too dangerous. But this was the first time he'd ever thought that he might never see light again. That there might not be anything on the other side.

Jesse closed his eyes. At least that darkness was familiar. He wished he could touch someone else. But best not to risk it – it was far too easy for innocent hand holding to result in a pair of fused hands.

The tinny voice from above was difficult to hear now. “Entanglement matrices aligned. Brace for port. Ten seconds. Nine... eight...”

Jesse never got used to this part. Even Amy, who had probably ported more times than anyone else in all seven Cities, had once admitted that she wanted to throw up each and every time, that it never got any better.

A pressure, like the building of a storm, pushed bruisingly in from all sides. Jesse's eyes, under their closed lids, ached as if thumbs were pushing into them. The taste of bile flooded his mouth.

“Six...”

Suddenly seized with a panic like he'd never felt before, Jesse struggled to peel his eyes open. The pressure increased by a fraction. Involuntary tears rolled down his cheeks. He heard someone dry-retching.

There was a kind of visibility in the center of the entanglement matrix, but it seemed to bypass the eyes – not a visible spectrum of light illuminating the room, but rather an intense and painful awareness of probability. The hundreds of thousands of probable locations and actions of each person on the pad simply were: spontaneously, simultaneously, all blurring into one, a plethora of reality. The farther apart people were, the fewer degrees of probability there were that they would move toward each other and occupy the same space at the same time, emerging on the other side fused into each other.

The tinny voice seemed to be slowing. It dragged, deepened. “Three... twoooo...”

Jesse stared death in the face, daring himself to move. He remembered his training. Stillness and calm was key. His thundering heart was the only part of him that moved. He stopped breathing.

“One.”