Jack And Anna - Back To Winnipeg

4. Well, This Place Hasn’t Changed-1

“Group Forty-Three,” the computer’s automated voice said through a speaker. “Mikel and Corin Dureeso.” The two men at the head of the line – husbands, unless Jack missed his guess – shuffled through a door at the end of the hallway. The small room on the other side contained a device that would send them down to the planet’s surface.

It would be at least twenty minutes before Jack, Arthur and Anna got their turn; the line that snaked its way through the wide, gray corridor was quite long. Not that he was in any particular hurry. How long had it been since he last paid a visit to his hometown? Besides his brief stop a few months ago to convince Arthur to attend his wedding. It had to be at least a year.

Winnipeg stirred up a lot of emotions in him, not all of them good. And not all bad either. After high school, he couldn’t wait to get away. Years of bullying and the naïve belief that things would be better over the next hill had convinced him to follow his sister all the way to Ottawa.

Needless to say, it hadn"t gotten better.

His year in Ottawa was an endless slog of menial jobs and rejected college applications. He had never been a very good student, so, really, he should have expected as much. But moving to the capital had put him in the right place to help Anna when she found herself stranded on Earth.

Without that stupid decision, he never would have met his wife. He never would have Bonded Summer. A burst of affection from his Nassai told him that she was every bit as grateful as he was.

Standing in line with the strap of a gym bag slung over his shoulder, Jack tried to count the number of people ahead of him. “It’s gonna be a while,” he muttered, spinning around. “But once we’re on the surface, it should be easier.”

His wife and father stood side by side in the middle of the corridor, both carrying luggage and looking downright exhausted. The trip from Alios had only taken twelve hours, but it was the middle of the night from Anna’s perspective. And Arthur? Well, this was his second flight in as many days, and the jetlag was catching up to him.

“What day is it?” Jack asked.

“Wednesday,” Arthur grumbled. “August the seventeenth. It should be a little after 4 p.m. when we arrive.”

Jack’s lips peeled back from gritted teeth, a soft hiss escaping him. “Rush hour,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s just great.”

Anna was fascinated by something on the wall, lost in some private reverie. But she still had the presence of mind to murmur, “Well, that’s what you get when you design your society around cars.”

Arthur gave her a little side-eye.

On Leyria and all of its colony worlds, people mostly got around via public transit. Buses and subway trains came frequently with one arriving every few minutes. There were other options, of course – people with mobility issues often summoned driverless cars to take them wherever they needed to go – but they weren’t the primary method of transportation.

A grunt from Arthur made Jack tense up. He usually felt uncomfortable when his father started displaying signs of impatience. “The two of you, um…The two of you can stay at the house while you’re here.”

Jack barked a laugh, a blush singeing his cheeks. “Well, that’s great, Dad,” he said. “Since neither one of us has a bank account. Pas d’argent, you know?”

The irritation drained out of Arthur’s face, replaced by something Jack hadn’t expected to see from his father. Curiosity. “You speak French?”

“Only a few phrases.”

“I speak French,” Anna chimed in.

“IArthur shot a glance over his shoulder, frowning at her. Then he turned that disapproving stare upon Jack. “How is it that she speaks French but you don’t?”

“I guess I never really took the time to learn.”

“And you, Anna?”

Adjusting the strap of her bag, Anna replied with a sheepish grin. “I took an assignment on Earth a few years ago. In Canada. Because I wanted to be closer to this doofus here.” She playfully kicked Jack’s shin. “And I thought it would be a good idea to learn both languages.”

It took the better part of half an hour to reach the front of the line. By the time the computer called their names, Jack felt like he wanted to bounce off the walls. Sitting still – or standing still, as the case may be – had never been very easy for him.

The wide-open doorway led into a room with nothing but a single control console and a metal triangle that stood over seven feet tall. Sinuous grooves ran over its shiny surface, intersecting with each other at odd angles.

The technician who stood behind that console was a wiry, young man with dark-brown skin who was in desperate need of a cup of coffee. Dressed in a blue uniform with a cap, he looked sharp, but his lethargic movements made it clear that he would rather be asleep. For him, it was also the middle of the night. “Destination?” he asked.

“Winnipeg,” Arthur grunted.

“ID?”

Arthur presented his phone, allowing the young man to scan it. When the computer gave a cheerful beep, he promptly took his place in front of the triangle.

Jack was next.

Lifting his forearm, he tapped a few commands into his multi-tool. The holographic projector created an image of his ID card with all the relevant information displayed alongside his picture.

He knew he was in trouble when the young technician let out a sigh of frustration. “This says you’re a refugee on Alios.”

“Um, yeah,” Jack mumbled.

“Oh, the Canadians aren’t gonna like this. I’ll have to flag your file for Customs and Immigration. Step aside, please. We’ll forward your information to the authorities and see if we can move a few more people through.”

Anna received the same treatment. They were forced to wait by the wall inside this little room until they received permission to leave the ship. Arthur was clear to go down right away, but he chose to remain until this unfortunate snag was straightened out. Five more groups disembarked before they received a response from Customs.

The technician was still at his station, frowning as he checked the readout on his screen. “All right, Group Seventy-Two: Arthur Hunter, Jack Hunter and Anna Lenai. You are permitted to disembark. Please take your position in front of the SlipGate.”

With that, they went over to the triangle. The grooves along its reflective surface began to glow, and a soft hum filled the air, rising in pitch as the light brightened. Finally, something that looked very much like a soap bubble formed around the three of them, distorting the world into a smear of colours. Mostly gray, but there was a smidge of blue where the technician stood.

The bubble seemed to lurch forward, and then they were soaring through a dark tunnel with a distant point of light that never came any closer. Jack could all but taste his father’s apprehension; Arthur was like a kid on his first trip up the very large hill of a rollercoaster. “I hate this!” he growled. “Flying through space!”

“Not space,” Anna corrected. “SlipSpace.”

“What?”

Before she could answer, they came to a stop in a new environment. All Jack could say was that they were surrounded by beige walls. Everything else was too blurry for him to make out, and his Spatial Awareness didn’t extend beyond the bubble’s edge.

Now, it was his turn to get nervous. Several people had tried to kill him by hijacking SlipGates and sending him into dangerous situations. This felt like one of those times. He could tell that someone was moving outside, but he had no idea what to expect until the bubble popped.

It turned out he was in a large room with all sorts of scanning equipment. He saw metal detectors and conveyor belts that fed into box-like machines. He had encountered devices like that before; they were used to examine the contents of someone’s bag back in the days when people still travelled by airplane. Which meant-

“This is the airport,” Arthur spluttered.

“Very good, Mr. Hunter.”

The snide comment came from a tall and handsome man with dark, olive skin and flecks of gray in his black hair. With piercing eyes and a little five o’clock shadow along his chiselled jaw, he managed to look imposing despite a slender build. The Kevlar vest that he wore over a shirt and tie certainly helped.

There were six others just like him – stern men who had probably spent most of their adult lives hopping from one law enforcement agency to another – and each one wore a pistol on his hip.

“Now,” the leader said, “regarding your friends here…”

Anna stepped forward with a blank expression. “Can we see some ID?”

Her request provoked a smile. “I was about to say the same thing!”

“You already know who we are,” Anna protested. “The ship would have forwarded all of our information.”

“Yes, I know who you are!” the handsome agent snapped. “But since you asked, my name is Robert Conway, and I’m here because we have a problem on our hands. You and your husband are listed as refugees. Well, it just so happens that Canada isn’t taking in refugees from off-world.”

He was cut off by his phone’s annoyingly cheerful ringtone. Snatching the thing off his belt, he slid his thumb across the screen and then brought it to his ear. “Yeah?” His smug self-confidence withered in an instant: replaced by utter shock. “Yes, ma’am, I was just about to…Are you sure? I see. Well, at least allow me to…No, no, of course not. All right…You’re very welcome, ma’am.”

Conway let out a deep breath, reluctantly ending the call. “I’m to let you go,” he said. “You’ve been granted temporary visas, which will allow you to remain in the country for ninety days.”

“Well, that was easy!” Anna remarked.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Too easy.” He strode forward, placing himself directly in front of the other man. “And just who is this mysterious benefactor?”

His question put a touch of crimson in Conway’s face. “Tell you what, Mr. Hunter: Why don’t you accept our generous offer with humility and hope to God that I don’t hear a peep about you breaking any laws?”

“Good enough for me,” Arthur said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The taxi brought them to a quiet, suburban street lined with small houses. Jack’s childhood home had yellow aluminum siding and two dormer windows poking out of its gabled roof. The fancy, brass knocker on the green front door had accumulated a few scratches over the years.

Arthur fiddled with the key, grunting as he shoved it into the lock and jiggled it a few times. Finally, he got the thing open and went inside.

Pausing as he stepped through the door, Jack gave himself a moment to take it all in. Everything was the same: the narrow hallway with its green walls, the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor, a doorway on his right that opened into a living room nobody used. His mother’s immaculate couches were still there with all the cushions in just the right spots. It even smelled right! Arthur had always liked his pine-scented air fresheners.