Bridger is a dystopian serial story about Charlane, a disgraced career soldier leading a security team at a remote research facility. When Char encounters a humanoid creature who claims to come from another world, she sees a chance to save her career—and the dying earth.
Char, a strong, career-driven woman, is fighting to overcome crippling self-doubt after she lost everything in a military scandal. She’d given so much to that career, including her marriage. Now she is starting over. Char doesn’t know that her value as a person doesn’t change based on what she accomplishes. Can she accept the unconditional love of those who care for her?
Our social media and celebrity culture has placed enormous value on beauty, fitness, and lifestyle. Our work culture pressures women to continually rise up the ranks and press for better jobs. All of these are worthwhile things, but they are not markers of personal value. A person is valuable because of who they are, not what they produce.
Rated PG-13 for language
Greta Erwell broke her long stride just long enough to run her hands over her chin-length grey hair and straighten her jacket before she burst into the infirmary.
You know, I had hoped to have an hour to drink a cup of coffee and just… put my feet up.
Her meeting with the higher ups had not gone anywhere near well. She could still feel the sting of getting ripped a new one after she’d told them that the last round of fission experiments had failed.
Smile at me, Doctor, and everything will be fine.
Erwell pushed open the door.
Seth and the security woman stood facing each other, both with arms crossed. They looked up. The doctor’s handsome face was tight.
“Ah, Char. You’re here too,” Erwell said. “What have we got?”
Seth took a step over and slid open the curtain around one of the beds.
Erwell leaned in over the bed. The man was at least six and a half feet tall, flagpole-thin. His skin was so pale that she could see bluish veins beneath the surface, like grass in muddy water. The only colour on him was short, silky black hair.
“Okay,” she said.
“So,” Char began, glancing at the doctor. “This fellow told Seth quite the story.”
“Oh?” Seth, was it? She’d worked with him for a year now and he was still Dr. Thompson.
Seth cleared his throat. “He claims to have come from another world through what he calls a ‘bridge.’” He made air quotes.
Erwell raised both eyebrows. “Do go on. What else did he say?”
Seth smiled wryly. “His name is Venn. He is a Na’odani from the ring-world of Nao, and apparently these bridges form where the multiple universes touch.” He took a deep breath. “With the aid of some kind of metal or stone thingy, they’re able to pass through the bridges into other worlds.”
“All right,” Erwell drawled. “And he came here why?”
“He was fleeing these creatures called… Kaa.”
“Kaa.” Erwell nodded slowly. “Hmm.”
“In his defense—“ Char reached over and picked up something from the counter “—we did pull this out of his leg.” She held up an eight-inch, knitting-needle-like object.
“Oh, shit.” Erwell reached for it. Char handed it over and Erwell held it close to her face. It was perfectly smooth and tapered to a sharp point. “It’s like a giant mosquito proboscis.”
The doctor nodded. “Apparently they suck out your insides.”
Erwell screwed up her face. “All right, the proboscis is a problem. Otherwise I’d say he’d French-fried his head on drugs. I do hear drugs are quite the problem in the communities around here.”
“That’s true,” the doctor said dryly, “but he’s definitely not Tlingit.”
Erwell felt a faint burn in her cheeks. “Right. But did you check if he has drugs in his system?”
Seth nodded. “He’s clean.”
She sighed, folded her arms and said to Char, “you didn’t call this in to Juneau?”
“No, uh, I could though,” Char said.
“Don’t,” Erwell said. “I’ll figure this out. I wish you’d called me sooner, though. I should have heard about it as soon as he was spotted.”
“Yeah,” Char mumbled. “I was preoccupied with saving him.”
“If he was Russo-Chinese, saving him wouldn’t matter.”
“Yeah,” Char said again.
What she would have done if she’d been told sooner, Erwell could only imagine. She’d just left a marathon meeting session in Juneau. The fact that she had almost no results whatsoever after two years of energy experiments hadn’t sat well with the board. Telling them they had a security breach of some kind would send them off the charts.
“There is, uh, actually something that came to mind.” Seth began to pull the drapes back around the bed where the stranger lay. “The part about the ring world.” He turned. “I’m trying to recall this legend I heard from an elder once. Something about a man from a world shaped like a hoop. I can’t recall the details.”
They moved over into the waiting area of the infirmary. Erwell hunched over and furrowed her brow. She didn’t want to admit it to the doctor, but something about this was striking a chord with her.
“Well, can you look into that?” Erwell added belatedly. “The legend.”
The doctor nodded.
“Char, maybe cuff this guy to the bed,” Erwell added. “If he’s crazy, we don’t want him taking off. If he is Russo-Chinese, we definitely don’t want him to bolt.”
Char nodded. “I’ll have Linc bring you some, Seth.”
Erwell turned to go. “Char, will you walk with me?”
When the infirmary door had shut behind them, Erwell turned to Char. For a second she just looked her over.
Char was wearing the same utilitarian, multi-pocketed black pants and figure-obscuring layers that the whole security team wore. The other two women on her team had long hair that they wore up at all times. Char had a short, mannish cut that made her small chin and high cheekbones stand out in sharp angles. At least her face looked like a woman’s face.
“Do you know Doctor Thompson?” Erwell asked, finally.
Char half-smiled. “He’s my ex-husband.”
“Oh!” Erwell laughed in genuine shock. “Did you know he was here?”
Char shook her head. “I hadn’t seen him for five years.”
“Your divorce must have been even worse than mine.” Erwell started walking down the curving hall. “Should I be concerned that this will affect your job?”
“No,” Char said. “We’re professionals, and already have agreed to be cordial.”
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