Special Measures (World of the YOung Ancients: Remarkable, #1) by Power P.S

Author:Power, P.S.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Ancients, magic, adventure, fantasy
Publisher: Orange Cat Publishing
Published: 2022-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter eleven

On the far side of the strange movement, a thing that felt different than what the booths did, neither boy having touched anything inside the softly glowing red hut at all, they stepped out into a different world. The sky above was a standard blue, light in color with soft fluffy seeming clouds in places. There was a jet plane in the distance however, a white cloudlike contrail coming out the back.

A thing that Earth, the one that he’d just left, didn’t have. They did all right with flying magics, and had spaceships, even. They were all silent in operation, however, and only their own color would tell you they were even there.

Meaning, clearly, that he was in a different world, suddenly.

Brought there by Clemance, who had put a hand on his arm. Gently. Honestly, he’d figured it had been done to caution him not to start a fight over the theft from his belongings. A thing that wasn’t going to happen anyway, of course. He wasn’t in prison, and no one was trying to take his shoes, or the food he needed to survive. If he had to make more lessons up, or farm equipment, then he could, in no more than a few hours.

Also, Dumas had filled a modestly sized case, taking only ten of each thing. The difference was that he was holding the black, partially translucent, case in his hands, not letting it float behind him. It wasn’t until they were in a new, rather different, place, that Yar put it all together. The boys had simply teleported, using their very will, to a new dimension. A different, alternate, reality. Carrying him with them.

Not needing a portal at all.

Dumas gestured with his head, grinning.

“This way. We need to check in with Marcia Turner, first thing, or at least the office. It’s daytime and I think... Friday? So she should be here, still. We can, possibly, get them for their weekend, which will be two weeks and a bit, back home.”

Those spoken about, it seemed, were the military. At least he figured that to be the case. A few of them had eccentric hair that wouldn’t have been allowed back home and others had on too much makeup, but they were all in tan fatigues, with a pixelated distortion pattern. The kind that had been used in his world about fifty years before. He’d seen something similar before, in fact. Indeed, when they walked in, Dumas winking at the attractive young women behind the front desk, they headed directly to an open door.

Inside of that space, toward the back of the building, was a woman who had once broken his arm.

True, he’d let her do it, to test a healing device, so it wasn’t a thing that caused him to panic, but he didn't know if she’d recall him at all. She looked a good bit like a shorter, paler version of Patricia Baker, from the magic shop on the Moon.

When she looked up, the attractive woman smiled.

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