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The Law of Averages (Web Novel) - Book 2: Chapter 120: He Should Call Them Apertures

Book 2: Chapter 120: He Should Call Them Apertures

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Dan’s portal hung static on the wall of his basement, as its partner swirled in the air across the room. Abby peered into the former, her gaze focused. She swayed, slowly, watching her body move from the perspective of the doorway behind her. Abby must have come to some conclusion, because she hummed to herself and straightened up.

“That’s new,” she concluded, nodding firmly.

Dan snorted. “I was hoping for something more insightful than that.”

“Hmm…” Abby tapped a finger against her chin a few times, before giving a shrug. “Only one thing to do.” She extended her hand towards the portal, and Dan sucked in a sharp breath. Abby’s fingers brushed the surface, then sank into it. Not far, only a few millimeters, but it worked! She’d crossed the threshold!

Dan spun around to face the paired doorway and saw the tip of her painted fingernails poking through it. He quickly walked over, and tapped his finger against hers. She giggled, then drew back.

“I felt that!” she exclaimed to him, leaning so that her eyes could meet his through the portal.

Dan grinned back at her, but there was plenty more testing to be done.

“Switch?” he asked, and she nodded.

They reversed their positions. She pressed her pinky through the exit door, and it emerged from the entrance. Dan laughed in triumph. Finally! Finally, he had found a way to transport other people!

Well, parts of them. And the safety still needed to be assessed.

“Alright, give the outside a touch,” Dan said. “Gentle, though. Gentle. It cut right through steel.”

Abby cocked her eyebrow at him, but did as he asked. She brushed the back of her knuckles against the outer edge of the exit door, and Dan watched it bend and warp as she closed the distance. She never touched it. He never caught the sensation of flesh in his veil— which brought to his attention something else important.

“I don’t feel what goes through,” Dan realized.

“No?” Abby asked, her eyes still captivated by the wilting doorway. It felt odd to feel his veil moving without his conscious direction. It was almost… numb. He couldn’t push back against her hand, even if he wanted to.

Abby suddenly swiped her hand through the outside rim, and the door winked out of existence. Dan flinched at the feedback; not pain so much as surprise. Abby held up her hand, turning it over and examining it for damage. She waggled her fingers at him.

“A bit fragile,” she noted.

Dan grunted in affirmation. After a moment’s focus, he reformed the door.

“What about from behind?” he asked.

Abby circled the doorway until she faced the back of it. She frowned at the void in space, before poking it gently with her finger. The construct popped like a soap bubble the moment she made contact. It was even more sudden than when she’d brushed the outside rim.

“Huh,” Abby said, looking down at her finger. “I’m magic.”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Now, the inside,” he insisted. “But—”

“Careful, yeah, I know,” Abby replied, nodding. She maneuvered around the opening, inspecting it. After a moment’s consideration, she ran her thumb along the inside edge. Nothing happened. The gateway didn’t waver, nor did Abby pull back in pain. She pressed against it, and her hand simply stopped. Dan felt absolutely no feedback from the motion.

“Feels weird,” Abby muttered. She repositioned, pressing now against the front of the gateway. Not the outer edges, but head-on, against the almost indiscernible, forward-facing crease where space transitioned from one place to the next. Still, nothing gave way. There was none of the bending, warping, twisting that happened when the outer rim was touched from the side. Nor did she wince and pull back, hands bloody, like Dan had first feared. She just pressed against the door, now putting genuine effort into it, with absolutely no result.

“It doesn’t hurt?” Dan asked her, scrutinizing her hand from the other side of the portal.

She pulled back and showed him her thumb. There wasn’t even an imprint.

“It’s like it isn’t there,” Abby said. “It feels like hitting Connor. It just eats the force, and you don’t feel a thing in return.”

Dan hummed uncertainly. He couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, he’d been looking to increase his offensive capabilities and cutting out two-dimensional slices of reality seemed like a really good place to start. On the other, he could transport people and there wasn’t any risk if they tripped and fell into the side of his portal. At least, not from the inside.

“Pull your hand back,” Dan said, and Abby complied.

Dan squinted and focused, and the doorway began to shrink. He paused before it could get any smaller than his head. He looked at Abby.

“I wanna try shrinking it while somebody is touching it,” he said.

She considered it, probably picturing the same thing he was. The walls coming down on a person like an oversized cigar cutter.

“Go slow,” she said.

Dan nodded, grinning with reassurance. “I wouldn’t risk your pretty fingers.”

She rolled her eyes, and placed the very tip of her pinky against the inside of the portal. Once again, Dan couldn’t feel it. He tried willing the portal to shrink and— Nothing. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was a very particular type of nothing. His veil felt stuck, like it had hardened into a solid. Dan hadn’t noticed before, because he hadn’t wanted to play around with it while Abby was anywhere near a portal.

“I can’t control the door while it’s in use,” Dan noted, with a furrowed brow.

Abby looked at him, down at her own hand, then pulled back from the portal. Dan’s control returned the moment the space stood empty, and the door shrank down to the size of an apple. Another twitch, and it began to grow out again. Abby absently pressed her hand through the open space, and Dan’s veil went numb. He could still feel it elsewhere, he could still maneuver it, and even create another door, but this part, the section of his power dedicated to bridging this space, was inaccessible to him.

“I need to be careful with this,” Dan noted. “I can make a pretty big opening, but if someone stands in-between, I won’t be able to shut it.”

Abby scrutinized the portal, her eyes flicking from side to side. She pulled back, until only her fingertip remained, then her other hand brushed the outer edge of the portal, the part that hung suspended in the air.

The edge bent inwards, and Abby jerked both her hands away from the gateway.

She turned to him, and Dan met her gaze, both their eyes wide.

“Okay,” Dan said, slowly. “Let’s avoid that.”

“No, it’s good!” Abby said, alarm fading into excitement. “You have a way to close them! And I bet the results will be messy!”

She wasn’t wrong. The outer edges of his doors were as unstable as the inner ones were solid. Dan could disrupt it just by waving his hand through the thing. The catch, because there was always a catch, was that the free-floating end was the exit, not the entrance. He had to create his portal on an object, a wall or the floor, soaking it with his veil. He could open an exit into thin air, but not an entrance.

“Sounds like you’ll just have to get creative,” Abby said, after Dan explained this point. “Besides, you can always put the exit inside a wall, can’t you? If you need to prevent it from being closed, I mean.”

That was true. He could layer the exit flush beside whatever he wanted. Nobody could break the outer edge, because there wouldn’t be an outer edge to break.

Dan drummed his fingers against his thigh. He felt good. This was something new. Something different. It might not be the silver bullet he was looking for, but it was proof that he was advancing. If this didn’t get him where he needed to be, then the next discovery would. Or the next, or the next. Dan wouldn’t stop growing, not until he was satisfied.

Dan pictured Cannibal leaping at him. He pictured a door appearing between them, catching the serial killer mid-leap. Dan pictured himself swiping his hand through the portal’s fragile outer rim, and space snapping back into place. He pictured Cannibal, bisected by a fundamental force of reality.

Dan couldn’t help but smile.

Other ideas flashed through his mind. Tiny portals intercepting fists, stopping them dead. Gateways the size of a barn, enormous vehicles driving through, completely ignoring Dan’s weight limits. He pictured a smaller door, and an angry Anastasia, summoned to battle like a Pokémon. Only theories for now, all in his head. Theories that were just a few steps away from reality.

He smiled at Abby, suddenly feeling giddy. “Looks like I’ve got some thinking to do.”

49

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