By seven the next morning, Mara had changed her mind three times.
By eight, she’d changed it twice more.
By nine, she had settled on a rule.
She was going to stop worrying about things she couldn’t control.
At least until lunch.
She stood in the greenhouse with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm, staring at rows of seedlings.
Tomatoes.
Beans.
Lettuce.
Carrots.
Herbs.
The Moonvine occupied a separate corner behind a temporary wooden barrier.
The black seed remained sealed in its glass jar.
Everything else was ordinary.
That was what she wanted.
Ordinary.
She watered the seedlings.
Checked the soil.
Adjusted the ventilation.
Then she looked toward the house.
The mirror was quiet.
Elias had left for the Meridian facility two days ago.
No message.
No signal.
Nothing.
Mara told herself that was normal.
Veyra didn’t have reliable communications.
He had a radio.
There were dead zones.
The route was dangerous.
There were dozens of reasonable explanations.
She hated all of them.
“Stop it,” she muttered.
The tomato seedlings offered no useful advice.
Mara returned to work.
At ten, someone knocked on her front door.
Mara nearly jumped out of her boots.
She grabbed the wrench before realizing who it was.
Evelyn Carter stood on the porch holding a paper bag.
“You planning to fix me with that?”
Mara lowered the wrench.
“Sorry.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Bad night.”
“Again?”
Mara hesitated.
“Something like that.”
Evelyn handed her the bag.
“Biscuits.”
Mara looked inside.
“Why?”
“Because you look like you forgot breakfast.”
“I didn’t.”
“You were about to.”
“I had coffee.”
“Coffee isn’t breakfast.”
Mara smiled.
“You sound like my grandmother.”
“Good woman.”
Evelyn stepped inside.
Her eyes moved around the kitchen.
“You’ve been busy.”
“I have.”
“How much?”
Mara glanced toward the window.
“Too much.”
Evelyn nodded approvingly.
“That’s usually the right amount.”
She noticed the notebook on the table.
“What are you planning?”
“Business.”
Evelyn picked it up.
Mara immediately reached for it.
“Hey.”
“I’m looking.”
“You read upside down?”
“I own a hardware store.
Reading upside down is an important skill.”
Mara laughed.
Evelyn studied the page.
“You’ve got produce.”
“Yes.”
“Seedlings.”
“Yes.”
“Preserves.”
“Eventually.”
“Eggs.”
“Eventually.”
“Furniture.”
“Maybe.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“And where are you selling all this?”
“That’s the problem.”
“Not really.”
Mara waited.
Evelyn tapped the notebook.
“You don’t need to sell everything to everyone.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Find people who want exactly what you’re growing.”
Mara considered that.
“Restaurants.”
“Some.”
“Farmers’ markets.”
“Definitely.”
“Local shops.”
“Maybe.”
“Online.”
“Eventually.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Start small.”
Mara smiled.
“Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“Because you keep trying to start big.”
“Fair.”
Evelyn pointed toward the greenhouse.
“How much can you produce?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then figure that out first.”
Mara opened her notebook.
“Why?”
“Because selling something you can’t consistently supply is how businesses get stupid.”
Mara wrote it down.
Consistency before expansion.
Evelyn noticed.
“Good.”
She picked up the biscuit bag.
“Now eat.”
At noon, Mara heard the mirror chime.
She ran upstairs.
Elias appeared.
His hair was dusty.
His jacket was torn at one shoulder.
There was blood on his cheek.
Mara’s heart stopped.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s blood.”
“Not mine.”
She exhaled.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Appear covered in blood and say you’re fine.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you actually okay?”
“Yes.”
Mara studied him.
He looked exhausted.
But alive.
“Where are Rowan and Selene?”
“Back at Blackridge.”
“You went alone?”
“No.”
“Elias.”
“They stayed at the outer perimeter.”
“That’s still alone.”
He gave her a tired smile.
“I had company.”
“Who?”
“Old machines.”
Mara crossed her arms.
“You’re impossible.”
“I know.”
“What did you find?”
Elias looked toward the room behind him.
“You’re going to want to sit down.”
“I don’t like when people say that.”
“Neither do I.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Mara sat.
He remained standing.
“The Meridian facility wasn’t destroyed.”
“I figured.”
“It’s underground.”
“How far?”
“About three hundred meters below the old capital.”
Mara frowned.
“That’s deep.”
“It was built to survive surface-level catastrophe.”
“Why?”
“Because they expected something to happen.”
Mara’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you find?”
Elias hesitated.
“Records.”
“About the Falling?”
“Some.”
“About the anchors?”
“Yes.”
Mara leaned closer.
“What are they?”
Elias looked directly at her.
“Not what we thought.”
He explained what he’d found.
The Meridian Project had never been a single machine.
It was a network.
Four primary anchor stations had been constructed around Veyra.
Each station had a specific function.
One monitored biological changes.
One monitored spatial distortion.
One monitored energy fluctuations.
And one—
Elias paused.
“What?”
“Connected to another world.”
Mara stared.
“Which one?”
“We don’t know.”
“But that’s what Anchor Four did?”
“Apparently.”
“Then why am I Anchor Four?”
“That’s the problem.”
He pulled a folded document from his jacket.
Mara looked at it through the mirror.
“You brought paper?”
“Some things survive better than electronics.”
She smiled.
“You’re becoming a farmer.”
“Don’t insult me.”
She opened the document.
A diagram covered the page.
Four circles.
Four stations.
And a line between two of them.
Mara recognized the symbol.
“That’s the mirror.”
“Yes.”
“So they had another gateway.”
“They had several.”
“Several?”
“Most failed.”
Mara’s expression hardened.
“And the successful one?”
Elias looked at her.
“Yours.”
Silence.
Mara stared at the diagram.
“So Whitmore House wasn’t random.”
“No.”
“My grandfather didn’t find the mirror.”
“He found the station.”
Her heart sank.
“He knew.”
“Probably.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Mara looked down.
For a moment, she thought about being angry.
At her grandfather.
At her grandmother.
At her father.
At the house.
At the mirror.
At Elias.
At herself.
Then she remembered the rule she’d written that morning.
Don’t worry about things you can’t control.
She closed the folder.
“Okay.”
Elias blinked.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
Mara stood.
“We have work to do.”
The first thing they did was establish rules.
Not for the mirror.
For trade.
Mara wrote them on a fresh page.
RULE ONE: NOTHING CROSSES WITHOUT BEING WEIGHED.
Elias nodded.
“Agreed.”
RULE TWO: NO LIVING ORGANISMS.
“Obviously.”
“Seeds are technically alive.”
“They’re dormant.”
“Still alive.”
Mara sighed.
“Then we classify seeds separately.”
Elias nodded.
RULE THREE: NOTHING DANGEROUS CROSSES WITHOUT BOTH SIDES AGREEING.
“Define dangerous.”
“We’ll know it when we see it.”
“That’s not a definition.”
“It’s a beginning.”
He considered it.
“Fair.”
RULE FOUR: EVERY EXCHANGE MUST HAVE A PURPOSE.
Elias nodded.
“No hoarding.”
“No wasting.”
“No sending things just because we can.”
Mara added the rule.
RULE FIVE: WE BUILD REPLACEMENT SYSTEMS.
Elias looked at her.
“Explain.”
“If I send you food every day, you’ll eventually depend on me.”
“Yes.”
“If you send me Aetherite forever, I’ll eventually depend on you.”
“Yes.”
“So we build systems.”
“Seeds.”
“Greenhouses.”
“Water systems.”
“Workshops.”
“Medical production.”
“Storage.”
“Education.”
Elias smiled.
“You’re serious.”
“Very.”
RULE SIX: NEITHER SIDE HIDES A MAJOR RISK.
Elias became quiet.
Mara looked at him.
“That’s important.”
“Yes.”
“You agree?”
He nodded.
“I do.”
She held his gaze.
“Good.”
RULE SEVEN: IF ONE OF US SAYS STOP, WE STOP.
Elias looked at the page for a long time.
Then nodded.
“Agreed.”
Mara put the pen down.
“That’s enough.”
Elias smiled.
“You missed one.”
“What?”
“Rule Eight.”
She frowned.
He looked at her.
“Don’t forget to eat.”
Mara stared.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Absolutely.”
She laughed.
“Fine.”
She wrote it.
RULE EIGHT: EAT SOMETHING.
Elias nodded approvingly.
“Excellent.”
Their first official trade took place that afternoon.
Mara weighed everything.
Rice.
Beans.
Salt.
Coffee.
Dried fruit.
Basic antibiotics.
Bandages.
Soap.
Seeds.
A small hand tool.
Total weight:
1.94 kilograms.
She placed the package on the mirror platform.
“Ready?”
Elias nodded.
“Ready.”
Mara pressed her hand against the frame.
The glass rippled.
The package vanished.
A second later, Elias held it.
He stared at the label.
“Coffee.”
Mara smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
He lifted the bag.
“How much do I owe you?”
Mara paused.
There it was.
The question they’d been avoiding.
“What do you have?”
Elias looked around.
“Not enough food.”
“I know.”
“Water.”
“You need that.”
“Scrap metal.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Old batteries.”
“Maybe.”
“Medical equipment.”
“Depends what kind.”
“Minerals.”
Mara looked at him.
“Tell me about the minerals.”
Elias smiled.
“Now we’re trading.”
They spent the next hour creating their first exchange ledger.
Not money.
Not yet.
Value.
Food had value.
Seeds had value.
Tools had value.
Medicine had enormous value.
Aetherite had extraordinary value.
Knowledge had value.
Time had value.
Labor had value.
Mara wrote another sentence at the bottom of the page.
Nothing is free just because we care about each other.
Elias read it.
He looked at her.
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Even between us?”
“Especially between us.”
He nodded slowly.
“Good.”
Mara looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you helping me because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t want you sending me things because you think you owe me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what do we do?”
Elias smiled.
“We make sure both sides benefit.”
Mara nodded.
“Exactly.”
That evening, Elias sent his first payment.
A small pouch.
Mara opened it.
Inside were three dull gray stones.
They looked ordinary.
“What’s this?”
“Raw Aetherite ore.”
She stared.
“Ore?”
“Unrefined.”
“How much is it worth?”
“I don’t know in your world.”
“Neither do I.”
She weighed it.
Barely half a kilogram.
Mara placed one stone beneath a magnifying lamp.
Tiny silver veins appeared inside.
She smiled.
“Interesting.”
Elias watched her.
“You’re already thinking about selling it.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m thinking about testing it.”
“Which means you’re thinking about selling it.”
Mara laughed.
“Maybe.”
Later, Mara stood in the greenhouse.
The sun was setting.
The seedlings had survived another day.
She touched one tomato leaf.
Then looked through the glass at the old farmhouse.
She had come here expecting a broken inheritance.
Instead, she’d found another world.
A man she’d never met in person.
A business opportunity.
A mystery older than she was.
And a reason to wake up every morning.
She looked at the Moonvine.
Its silver flowers opened in the fading light.
For once, nothing strange happened.
No messages.
No warnings.
No shadows.
Just a plant growing.
Mara smiled.
“Tomorrow.”
Then the mirror chimed.
She turned.
Elias was standing on the other side.
His expression was serious.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“I found something else at the Meridian facility.”
“What?”
He lifted a small metal identification plate.
There was a name engraved on it.
THOMAS WHITMORE
Mara stopped breathing.
Her grandfather.
Elias looked at her.
“He wasn’t just a visitor.”
Mara stepped closer.
“What was he?”
Elias turned the plate over.
There was another line.
ANCHOR FOUR — ORIGINAL CUSTODIAN
Mara stared at the words.
Then, beneath them, a final inscription became visible.
SUCCESSOR: MARA WHITMORE
The mirror went black.
END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN