Miles collapsed onto the couch in his hotel room. He’d been put up in the Fairmont Pacific Rim along with the rest of the detail. While Kia was sleeping on the pullout in the living room of the Prime Minister Suite at the penthouse, he, O’Neill and McKinley had been put up in a standard suite.

The day had been long, full of meetings and interviews with Sizilen while a team from CSIS swept through the entire hotel on the lookout for more listening and recording devices.

The source of the bug they’d found was as-yet-unidentified. They’d taken each and every staff member that had any sort of interaction with Sizilen, the detail, or their suites and put them into a dark room while they were questioned. But it wasn’t just hotel staff being questioned– quite literally everyone with the sole exception of Sizilen were brought in for questioning.

Burke was livid, of course. Not just that they’d been bugged, but that there were just no answers. He even questioned Kia’s presence.

Thankfully, he still seemed to trust Miles in the position.

The simple fact of the matter was that even if they could identify who planted the bug, it was unlikely to yield any information as to who was on the receiving end of it. Burke seemed to have his suspicions, but kept them close to heart.

It was a strange contrast. His days were spent having Sizilen answer questions about her own world to complete strangers, practically throwing as much information out into the ether, and his evenings were spent ensuring complete secrecy.

He wasn’t about to make the mistake of assuming there were no political motivations regarding Sizilen’s interviews. By giving the world access to her, Jonathan Pike’s approval ratings had shot up. Foreign aid had been rushing in ever since the day of the egress, and he’d heard rumors that even countries with cool relationships with Canada were quickly warming.

But with that warmth came the heat. There was another layer to all of this that kept creeping into the back of Miles’ mind.

He thought of Claire Bishop, who lost her entire family to the Embrayyans. Just one of hundreds with personal grievances. He’d heard from her the day before, sending a thank you message for getting her in touch with Colonel Burke. What they talked about, Miles had no idea. He had done his good deed.

But Claire was only a member of a single layer of people who had a vested interest in the affairs surrounding Sizilen, the Shimmer and Embrayya in general. There were others, and some of them had the resources of entire nations under their control.

Sizilen aside, the concept of another world ripe with resources for the plundering was bound to be a draw for those who sought to exploit it. Lumber, agriculture, science, minerals and cheap labour were just a few choices in an extraordinarily long list.

And then there was the wildcard– the Elder Law. The thing that Sizilen had described as the progenitor to the laws of the physical universe. The force that superseded everything they had come to know about physics– perhaps even mathematics itself.

It was a sobering thought. That one could sacrifice their health, perhaps even their very lives to manipulate the natural world in some fashion. People had sacrificed more for less, and he feared what the world might look like if it could be used by those on Earth.

In the hands of anyone, it would change the world. He had trouble imagining what would happen if the Taliban or North Korea could use it. If China or Russia had it. If a single nihilist had it, it could potentially mean the death of thousands, and there would be no warning.

Hell, he was worried about what might happen if Canada and her allies had it. The entire prospect made him uneasy. He was a patriot, of course, but he wasn’t so naive to think it wouldn’t be misused even by his own people. For all the wonders of Canada’s history, he knew it was always accompanied by blunders, missteps, negligence and outright hatred.

Then there was Sizilen. She was keeping something close to heart, but Miles didn’t know what it was. She had expressed directly that she didn’t trust him.

And he couldn’t blame her– he was a tool of a government that was currently holding her people captive and parading her in front of cameras like an exotic animal in a Sultan’s menagerie.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t report it. He probably should have, but something about Sizilen put him at ease. Miles had a history of being taken in by pretty girls, but Sizilen didn’t act like any of them. Those girls knew they were pretty. Sizilen might have known– but didn’t seem to care. 

Something about the way she thoughtfully stared at the sky, however, seemed to belie the idea that it was a threat to Canadian sovereignty. He believed her when she had told him so. Whatever the secret was, it seemed personal. Close to her heart.

The other thing about Sizilen was– well, she acted with purpose. At first glance, he had assumed it was the desire for freedom, but he had a feeling that was only the first step in what she wanted.

He should have felt comforted that whatever that purpose was lay on the other side of the Shimmer, but for some inexplicable reason, he didn’t.

He stretched and checked his watch. It was almost ten. Breakfast was at seven, and they had another big day ahead of them. More interviews, more appearances. Burke had also informed him they were making progress in crossing through the Shimmer– limited progress, but progress nonetheless.

Apparently they’d flown a drone through and got back exactly five frames of footage of the other side before the connection with the drone was lost.

At first, they’d been concerned that electronic devices wouldn’t survive the transit between the two worlds, but the fact that they’d managed to get a few frames meant something else– more than likely, radio frequencies could not be passed through the Shimmer.

That would make communication with the other side difficult, but perhaps not impossible. It would be another day or two before he would hear from Burke again.

He groaned loudly. Thankfully, the government had been generous to them. Putting each of them up in a fancy hotel in the downtown core. With the exception of Kia, they each got their own rooms.

But Kia didn’t mind. Despite staying in the living room, she still had access to the baths in the Prime Minister Suite. Not to mention that she and Sizilen had grown a good deal closer in recent days.

Just that day, despite all the chaos, Kia had announced her intention to introduce Sizilen to the wonders of Adam Sandler movies. Most of their conversations, as Miles understood it, were designed to acclimate Sizilen to Canadian culture.

Curiously, the creation of social media accounts for Sizilen were approved. They were managed entirely by Kia as part of her duties with the Public Affairs Office, but with a little more freedom. Miles had followed the accounts. Mostly it was pictures and videos of Sizilen doing day-to-day activities, but every evening Kia would choose some comments and ask Sizilen to reply.

Thankfully, Kia understood her job well. Despite her giddiness to be acting like Sizilen’s public relations representative, she only responded to the comments and questions that lacked controversy.

And there were many comments and questions that were entirely unacceptable. The internet was a place of chaos, rife with people with political and nihilistic agendas.

He started to strip down to his boxers and went to brush his teeth before going to bed, when his personal phone suddenly started to ring. His mother had been calling a lot since he’d appeared on TTV with Sizilen, asking a million questions. Most of which he couldn’t answer.

He’d left his personal phone in his hotel room because he couldn’t have it while on duty, and it was a bit of a relief. He loved his mother, but Nadine Brady was nothing if not persistent.

He rinsed his mouth out and picked up the phone, then paused as he saw the name on the call display.

For a brief moment, he considered not answering it. Almost reluctantly, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“Miles?” a familiar voice asked. It was a voice that reminded him of many things– passionate nights full of laughter and warmth, a gentle touch, and an unexpected heartbreak. “Thank God, I thought you might have changed your number.”

The sound of his ex-girlfriend’s voice made him feel uncertain. It had been weeks since they’d broken up, and neither had spoken to each other in the time since. He felt annoyed that she would call him, but he kept that close to heart.

“Why are you calling so late? Isn’t it one in the morning in Toronto?”

“Well, I’m actually in Vancouver,” she explained. “I got a new job, really good money, but I had to relocate here. I just flew in this afternoon and… well, I saw you on TV, so–”

“Quinn, what do you want?” he asked, irritated.

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the line. “I just… look, I feel horrible about what happened. I got scared.”

“You got scared of what, marrying me?”

“It wasn’t that. It was– you’re always away. You were in Columbia for months at a time, we could only even talk once a week, and before that you were in the Middle East. I was scared that… that might be my future. Always alone while you were off doing God knows what.”

Miles took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Quinn, I asked you to marry me after being together for three years and you talked to me like I had a cute schoolboy crush on you.”

There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. “Look I get if you hate me,” Quinn said. “I said some things that I didn’t mean because I was afraid. And if nothing else, I want to clear the air.”

Miles sighed. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “It’s just… a lot has happened in the last couple of weeks, and if you’re calling to apologise– fine. Apology accepted. But I’ve heard absolutely nothing from you since I left you at the restaurant, and for you to call me after seeing me on TV–”

“No it’s not that–” she protested, then walked it back. “Well maybe a little, but not in the way you think. Look, I’ve been thinking about you ever since, I was just too afraid to call. Seeing you on TV with that– that girl, it got me thinking even harder.”

“Get to the point, Quinn,” he said.

“Look I don’t want to talk over the phone,” she said. “Can we meet?”

“I have to go to bed,” Miles asserted.

“Tomorrow then, will you have time? Dinner, maybe? Not a date, just… to talk.”

Now it was Miles’ turn to make an audible sigh.

“So is that a yes?”

He sighed again. “Fine. There’s a place in Olympic Village called the Craft Beer Market. Meet me there at eight-thirty.”

“I will,” she said. “Thank you. I’ve missed you, Miles. Sweet dreams.”

With that, he hung up. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at it for a few moments before putting it on the charging pad nearby.

A call from Quinn was the last thing he was expecting. As if he wasn’t already bothered by the duties he had with his job. Still, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

That night, he tossed and turned for a few hours before he was finally able to close his eyes, and spent the rest of the night plagued by strange dreams.