Free Journey Through the Mirrors by T. R. Williams

The Council’s attempts to locate Madu Shata, the finder of the Pyramid Set, had been unsuccessful, which surprised no one, since Madu hadn’t been seen in close to forty years. Even though Mr. Perrot was one of the few people in the world who knew the true account of the discovery of the fourth set of the Chronicles , known as the Train Set, he reluctantly supported the Council’s attempts to contact the executor of the Hitchlords estate. As it turned out, the estate would contribute nothing to the commemoration, because the World Crime Federation had seized all of Simon Hitchlords’s assets.
    “It is going to be a fabulous event!” Jasper said excitedly, handing a shipping label to Mr. Perrot. “The Council is lucky to be getting a few of Cassandra’s mosaics for the exhibit and all those photographs from your album.”
    Mr. Perrot secured the label to a shipping box. “All of these photographs certainly bring back some good memories,” he said with a smile. Alain Perrot had been Camden Ford’s closest friend. Camden had rescued him from marauders at a safe house near the Ozark forest forty years ago, when he was still known as Robert Tilbo. He changed his name when he, Camden, and Cassandra fled from Washington, D.C., with their children for New Chicago after the splintering of the original Council. To this day, the circumstances surrounding the Splintering had never been fully revealed to the public.
    Mr. Perrot looked at a few of the photos they had decided not to send. There was one of him holding his baby daughter, standing next to Camden and Cassandra at the hospital just after Valerie was born. Logan, almost a year old at the time, was sitting in a stroller. Valerie’s mother, Andrea Montavon, was still in the intensive-care unit, recoveringfrom the complications of her long and arduous labor. Mr. Perrot took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. “Beauty can truly have thorny origins,” he whispered.
    “What was that?” Jasper asked.
    “Nothing,” Mr. Perrot replied. “Just some old memories.”
    Jasper gave Mr. Perrot a curious look but did not press. “Have you heard from our world travelers today?”
    “No, not yet. They must be having too much fun in Mexico. But come now, we still have more of Cassandra’s things to rummage through.” Mr. Perrot felt his PCD vibrating and quickly checked his pockets. “Where did I put that thing?” He reached inside his tweed jacket and, fumbling, located his PCD and took it out. “This might be them,” he said, as he looked at the PCD number, and then he thought otherwise. “Actually, I’m not sure who this number belongs to.” The main line to the studio had started ringing, and Jasper ran to the front to answer it, as Mr. Perrot tried to project a 3-D image of the caller. He didn’t recognize the face of the well-groomed man with graying hair and sad eyes that was finally projected. “This is Alain Perrot,” he said.
    “I am looking for a Robert Tilbo,” the man answered. “I was told he could be reached at this number.”
    Mr. Perrot’s heart began to beat faster. While his true identity had recently been made public, he was hesitant to speak with an unknown man calling from an unknown number. “Who should I say is calling?” Mr. Perrot asked.
    The man didn’t immediately answer, adding to Mr. Perrot’s tension. “Tell him that his past has finally caught up with him. Tell him that I am the man who taught Camden Ford the King’s Gambit and the one no one could take in a chess match.”
    Mr. Perrot thought for a moment and then squinted, trying harder to recognize the man in the projection. “Madu?” he finally asked in a low voice.
    The man began to laugh heartily. “Yes, Robert. It is me,” Madu confirmed. “You were always so easy to play with.” His laughter continued.
    “Where . . . What have you . . .” Mr. Perrot stammered, his heart still racing, now with excitement. “I am at a loss for words.”
    “What,