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Legacy of the Witch House (TheCorsair and Xanaphia)

Pete slathered butter on his baked potato, then cut into the ribeye with relish. It wasn’t quite enough to distract him from the memories the video had stirred up, memories of peering into the first gate he and Marta had created. Memories of curiousity mingled with terror, both growing stronger until he and Marta had lost themselves in flesh and lust to escape.

He chewed down a bite of steak. Maybe that was why the sex was so good? That thrill of danger that wove through their relationship as they studied the gates?

“Don’t you think, Pete?” Lens asked.

He started, realizing he’d been lost in his thoughts. “Uhm, she’d look good in anything.”

Lena giggled. “He’s cute, Marta. No wonder you like him.” Then she gave him a long look. “Magenta tips. Don’t you think she’d look good with them?”

“I... what?” He looked at Marta now, trying to visualize it. “I guess? I mean, I don’t, uhm. Tips? Like, just the ends?” He bit his lip, thinking. “Wouldn’t that just make it look like you colored your hair and let it grow out?”

By now, Lena was fighting hard to stifle laughter. Jeff shook his head, and gave Pete a sympathetic look. “Fashion, man,” he shrugged. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, I do,” Lena said decidedly. “Let’s do it, Marta. And then I’ll take you shopping for a new outfit to go with it.” She stroked her chin. “Reds and golds, I think. Like the sun setting.”
 
Marta frowned, willing herself to believe that Lena’s comment had nothing to do with the dreams, or the strange figure she’d seen in the books. “Sounds good, but I am practically swamped for the next month. I’ll have to carve out a weekend, so we can get together.”

“I am going to hold you to that. Oh, we can do it on your birthday, unless you have plans already.” Leaning in towards Pete she whispered conspiratorially, “It’s the 28th, so don’t forget.”

Marta shook her head. “You know I don’t. Everyone always has their Halloween parties around that time, and it’s not worth the hassle of separating out my birthday. We were already invited to a party by a donor of mine,” she admitted, briefly remembering the dream where she fucked Luis, and watched Peter fuck Selina. Before they fucked clones of themselves. “Not sure if we are going to attend, though.”

“Oh no, you probably shouldn’t.” Lena waved her hand dismissively, before breaking into a mad smirk, “Why, you might run into a fun version of yourselves there!”

Marta nearly choked on her wine, and her glass clanged against the table as she set it down, “What?”

Lena laughed some more, “Oh, Jeff was telling me about this theory in quantum physics, about multiple versions of ourselves and parallel realities.” She took a bite of her mash potatoes, before continuing, “Surely you’ve heard of it before?”
 
“The multiple worlds interpretation?” Pete grinned suddenly, like a cat confronting a dish of cream. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. It’s one of the ways of interpreting quantum mechanics. I tend to favor the ensemble interpretation myself, but...”

“The what?” Jeff asked.

“It’s one of a number of competing interpretations of quantum mechanics,” Pete replied. “It holds that quantum wave functions don’t describe a single particle, but the statistical behavior of an ensemble of particles. Kind of like a bell curve.” He shrugged. “I prefer it because it introduces the fewest new assumptions - it doesn’t introduce a need for an infinite number of universes, for instance.”

“Occam’s razor,” Jeff said.

“Right. Exactly.” Pete took a drink of his beer. “Now, that said, as a science fiction fan I kind of hope the many worlds interpretation is correct. But there’s no evidence.”

“There’s the Mandela Effect,” Jeff pointed out.

“The what?” Pete looked blank at the phrase.

“The Mandela Effect.” Jeff took a bite of his salad. “Fiona Broome wrote about it. There’s a group of people who remembered watching Nelson Mandela’s funeral back in the 80s, and she describes how they most likely slipped in to our universe from a parallel one. Another application of Occam’s Razor, really.”

“Or, more likely,” Pete chuckled, “the same fault of memory that makes everyone think Darth Vader said ‘Luke, I am your father.’” With that, he picked up his phone. “What’s your email, though?”

“Huh? Why?” Jeff asked.

“I’ll send you a couple of links discussing the various QM interpretations.” Pete tapped at the screen. “You might like it.”

“You should hope that parallel universes aren’t real,” Lena laughed, nudging Jeff.

“Why not?” Jeff asked.

“If I met another me, I might be tempted to turn lesbian,” she laughed.

Tapping a little longer, Pete set his phone on the table. “There you go.” Then he kissed Marta on the cheek and rose. “Be right back,” he declared, heading for the restrooms.
 
Marta watched Pete walk away with a dreamy smile, just be surprised by the knowing grin on Lena’s face. “What?”

“You got it bad.”

“I just… he’s really…” Marta stammered, and brushing hair back behind her ear didn’t help her find her words.

“It’s okay,” Lena reached across the table to pat her hand. “I am really happy for you. I was worried you were rushing into this, after how things went down with Nkendi, but it’s patently obviously you two are crazy for each other.”

Marta allowed herself a small laugh. “He said ‘I love you,’ first. Which was a complete shock, because I swore it was going to slip from my lips at any given moment.” Lena joined her in giggling.

“At the rate you two are going, you guys might end up engage before we do. Looks like you are going to have to up your game, Jeff.” She nudged her boyfriend and giggled some more.

“Huh?” The word came with a snap, Jeff’s eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I mean if you like it you better put a ring on it. I’ve been patient, but if Marta proposes again before you do, I am going to be displeased.”
 
Jeff watched Pete leave, then glanced at the phone he’d left on the table. It was still unlocked. He pursed his lips, listening to Lena chatter with her sister, who was nearly as hot as her but a genuine hidebound academic, then casually palmed the phone and slid it under the table.

The background was 100% pure nerd, something Jeff could respect - even if Pete was another genuine hudebound academic. Although, from what he’d seen, that might not be quite right. And the truth wanted to be free. So he fumbled with the unfamiliar layout of the icons, smiling to see that the video was still at the top of the pictures app. A few taps later, and it was Airdropping to his own phone.

“Looks like you are going to have to up your game, Jeff,” Lena laughed, nudging him.

His guilty start nearly made him drop Pete’s phone. “Huh?”

“I mean,” she explained, kissing him on the cheek, “you like it you better put a ring on it.”

“I, uhm, that is...” Flustered, he barely managed to slide Pete's phone back onto the table.

-*-

“I’ve been patient,” Lena said with a meaningful look, “but if Marta proposes again before you do, I am going to be displeased.”

“Proposes?” Pete took his seat, glancing around the table. Jeff looked flustered and guilty, and Lena had a devilish smile, and Marta was looking happy and faintly embarassed and sexy as hell. Of course, as far as he was concerned she always looked sexy as hell. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing!” Jeff said quickly.

“Oh, just harassing my boyfriend,” Lena laughed. “And giving my sister a hard time while I’m at it.”

“Yeah, I used to do that to my little sister all the time,” Pete laughed, gripping Marta’s hand under the table. “Then she got married and now everyone hangs up on me.” He squeezed Marta’s hand gently. “So brave yourself. Thanksgiving will be... exciting.”

“Thanksgiving?” Lena asked, peeking up.

“Yeah.” Pete finished off his beer. “She’s flying home with me for Thanksgiving.”

Lena considered that for a moment then punched Jeff in the shoulder, a little harder than was strictly playful. “Jerk!” She said as he yelped in shock. “You haven’t invited me to your family Thanksgiving yet!”
 
Dinner concluded with more teasing and embarrassing childhood stories and yet more goading from Jeff. But Peter handled it all with charm and wit, and set a high bar for her own performance with his family come Thanksgiving. But those nerves could wait, because tonight she was riding high on the elation of how well Lena liked him and pleasantly the night went.

Maybe it didn’t matter how quickly they were moving. Maybe they didn’t need a long, drawn out courtship to figure out they were great together. Maybe breaking up with Nkendi wasn’t so bad, seeing as it led to Peter.

That thought stung, however, misting her eyes at the memory of Nkendi placing the ring back in her hand and shaking her head in a silent “no”. She stared out the passenger-side window until the recollection passed, and leaned over to kiss Pete’s cheek while he was stopped at a light. “I love you.”

~*~

“You’re making a video now?” Lena stood in the doorway of Jeff’s in-home studio/office, toweling off her wet hair.

“It’s mostly done,” Jeff insisted, not looking up from his screen, “I am just finalizing the edits and effects.”

“I was about to head to bed,” Lena added with a pout.

Jeff still didn’t notice. “I’ll be there in a minute. Just going to watch it through to make sure everything is set.”

Lena tossed her robe at him, finally drawing his attention from the screen. Once he realized she wore nothing under said robe, his computer no longer held his focus. “Do you really need to do that right now?”

“It’s probably fine,” he agreed, typing with one hand and no eyes on the screen. “Just needs to buffer, really. And I don’t need to be in here for that.”

“So,” Lena bit her lip and smirked, “are you ready for bed now?”

Jeff stood, and hit enter on his keyboard. “Absolutely.”

~*~

While she loved Peter, and liked his place, there were things she already missed about her own. Like, how long it took to heat up the bedroom on a cool night. Despite the manufactured rooms, his loft was mostly an open space that took a while to heat. And while it wasn’t winter yet, the nights were cold. But it was a great excuse to cuddle under a fluffy blanket and let their hands wander over each other’s body. Wandering that usually lead to interesting ways of getting warm, whether it meant his arms wrapped around her or her legs wrapped around him.

“You were an absolute charmer tonight. Now, how am I going to pay you back? I mean, other than letting you drag me back to Woodhaven tomorrow, so we can test the gates again.”
 
Marta, it turned out, was the “cold one” in the relationship. He generally kept his apartment around 68 degrees in the winter, and was fine with a single blanket unless he was sick. She, on the other hand, pushed the heat up to the mid-70s and still wanted a quilt. He’d considered complaining, but she also tended to snuggle for warmth, and that always ended up interesting.

“You were an absolute charmer tonight,” Marta told him, breath warm in his skin. “Now, how am I going to pay you back?”

“Well,” Pete grinned, running his hand over her hip. “I’ve got an idea...”

“I mean,” she teased, “other than letting you drag me back to Woodhaven tomorrow, so we can test the gates again.”

“You know me too well,” he laughed. “Although, to be honest, I was thinking that might be a little too public. Maybe we should go out somewhere quiet, Dunwich State Park - set up the gate at the bottom and aim for the top. Something like that.”

His hand gripped her ass, pulling her body tight against his. “I mean,” he murmured, his teeth grazing her ear before kissing her. “I like starting at the bottom...”

The conversation died away for a while after that, replaced by gasps and cried and soft murmurs of assent and encouragement. Skin moved on skin in a delightful friction that built steadily into a burning heat that left even tge brief delay to unroll the condom anaching eternity. He drank her sounds of pleasure as he slid into her, and his voice joined hers as their pleasure built until they were utterl spent.

Afterwards, with the condom disposed of, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “God, I love you,” he whispered, tasting her sweat and his as he kissed her.

-*-

Bacon sizzled as he flipped the strips, making the oil and grease pop and splatter. Pete swore without any real heat, sucking at a finger that had caught a hot spatter. “Good morning,” he called cheerily as Marta came into the kitchen. “Coffee’s ready, and breakfast will be following soon. How do you want your eggs?”

He rolled his shoulders, then stretched to scratch between his shoulder blades. It had been had, crawling out of his - their - bed, but he really needed to get back into his exercise routine. So he’d gone for a two mile run in the crisp morning air, and now the sweat drying on his back was making him itch.

“Think you’ll have time to meet for lunch today?” he asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.
 
“Coffee’s ready, and breakfast will be following soon. How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled sounds good,” Marta answered in a yawn, helping herself to a cup of coffee. A long drink warmed her, and heated lip s planted a kiss on Peter’s cheek from behind him.

“Think you’ll have time to meet for lunch today?” he asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.

“I was going to pick up some groceries for the week before I got started on grading, but I will probably be ready for a break after lunch. We can head up to Dunwich around then.”

Excitement mingled with a residual dread. If Peter were right about the gates, that they could be used to travel not only over distances but through time as well, it was an amazing discovery. And he’d already proven himself correct about how the gates could connect two points over great distance. Afterall, they had the fragment of headstone as proof. But there were still complications, such as whether they safe for living beings to use. The damage they left at the cemetery reinforced that worry well enough. Beneath that logical concern, however, lay the terror of that first gate they opened, and the presence lurking within. A being without shape or form, and yet etched into her psyche.

A deeper drink of coffee pushed that anxiety down, and the breakfast Pete set before her occupied her attention. “Do we need anything in particular for today’s experiments?”

~*~​

“What the hell?”

Lena yawned and rolled over, rubbing her bare leg over Jeff’s, “What’s wrong?”

“YouTube took down my video,” he grumbled, scrolling angrily through his phone.

“The one you made last night?” She leaned into him, trying to read his phone, but the email was too small to read from this angle. So she closed her eyes and got comfortable. Maybe she could fall back asleep…

“Yeah, said it violates community standards? How the hell?”

“I’m sorry hun,” she murmured, trailing off.

“Dammit, it had 10 million views before they took it down too. That’s just from overnight! I just knew it was going to be my biggest video yet.”

Lena was lightly snoring as Jeff hit play on the video, trying to figure what the problem was, and if he could fix it with some editing. Maybe there was some copyrighted music in the background?

The thing within the portal writhed and squirmed, moving unlike anything he could begin to compare it to, but moving all the same. What in the hell was it?

“There’s no way to gauge distances from here,” Peter remarked within the video, speaking to Marta and the camera both. “And that mass out there... I’ve never seen anything like it.” Jeff watched the video progress, transfixed and repulsed by the portal and the being within the portal. Marta begged Peter to turn off the portals, and Jeff shook his head.

“Don’t” he whispered to video images who couldn’t hear or respond to him. But the portal vanished with a pop, and Marta and Peter spoke nervously about what they’d seen. Before and tearing each other’s clothing off. “Shit.”

What they hell? Was this just some sort of joke Marta and Peter played? Some game with special effects as a pretext to have sex? Man, some people were fucking weird.

Though, it was a pretty hot video. Marta looked pretty good naked. Almost as good as Lena, whose soft curves brushed against his bare skin even now. Locking his phone and placing on the end table, he turned toward Lena, and caressed her under the covers. “Hey, wake up sleepy head.”

Maybe he’d have to find out if she were into taping herself, like Marta.

~*~​

The trip to Dunwich State Park was filled with a giddy tension that peaked as Peter parked the car and she helped him lug the equipment to the designated spot. Just after one p.m., it was as warm as it would get today, pleasant until a chill breeze blew by. Still, it wasn’t nearly as cold as the night in Woodhaven, and for that, Marta was thankful.

“This is where we found the headstone fragment, wasn’t it? Is this where we want to set up?”
 
“Yeah, this looks good,” Pete said, stretching a little and grabbing his duffel bag. “Nice and isolated and away from most of the hiking trails. We shouldn’t get any curious bystanders.”

A nervous tension gnawed at his stomach, part giddy anticipation and part anxiety. It was, after all, hard to forget the damage the uncontrolled gate had done in the cemetary. And not hard to imagine what the gate could do to a living creature. Avoiding bystanders wasn’t just a matter of wanting to keep their discovery a secret until they had a better handle on it, after all.

He pushed the thought aside. “This’ll work,” he told himself. “This’ll work.” Then he stripped off his gloves and stuffed them in a pocket, before booting up his laptop. “I think I could actually write an app for these gates,” he said, unpacking the laser. “Once we get them under control, that is. And I’ve got the recordings of each of us reading that, the spell -“ God, he hated saying that, “just in case anything goes wrong this time. As a backup to the book.”

He checked his phone, and tapped at the keyboard. “And this time, I pre-loaded the latitude and longitude of the top of Sentinel Hill, so I just need to feed in our coordinates now..,”. More typing. “Also, this time, we’ll be emulating the original gate more directly. The laser will sketch out one diagram, and the webcam will allow my laptop to sketch out the other virtually. It should work, since the first one was entirely virtual.”

He checked everything a second and then a third time, then ran his fingers through his hair. “God, I’m nervous,” he confessed, taking Marta’s hand and squeezing. “You ready?”
 
Marta laughed, more nervous than amused, and nodded, “Yeah, I think so.” With a deep breath, and one last hand squeeze, she opened the Necronomicon, to the page with the words. Peter setup his phone and detailed the parameters of the experiment, and she practiced the words in her head. Finally, he glanced towards her and she nodded, bracing herself with a deep breath as he hit enter on the keyboard.

Again, the laser created the pattern, in conjunction with the webcam, and the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees as the portal popped into existence. Once more it pulsed, warping and rippling, but this time they were ready, and she spoke the words with a forced confidence.

“T’ik’uri megareja āsiwegidi ina ā’imiro layichali yihīdu.” The portal continued to pulse, but now it synchronized to her chant, an iambic rhythm that matched the beating of her heart. Twice more she repeated it, until Peter switched on the recording of her saying the words. They both watched, waiting for a sign the gate would go haywire again, but it remained stable, framing a vision of the top of the hill.

“It, it works,” she breathed, breaking into a beaming smile. Throwing herself into Peter’s arms, she squealed and laughed, “It works!” No creepy noises, no amorphous blob, nothing but their destination waiting within the gate. “It really works.”

Still holding Peter’s hand, she watched the gate, curiosity growing in the pit that once held her dread. Stepping closer, she turned to face him, “Are we going to try and use it?”
 
Pete breathed a sigh of relief as the portal stabilized, then whooped and laughed as Marta threw herself into his arms. They danced about in glee for a moment, giddy with relief and excitement, repeating “it worked” over and over. Finally, though, she asked the next important question. “Are we going to try and use it?”

“Not yet,” he replied, releasing her hand to dig into the duffel bag once more. This time, he pulled out a quadcopter with a GoPro mounted on it. “I want to make sure it really did open to where we think it did. Also, that it doesn’t flip the charge of our atoms, or something terrible like that.” He grimaced, then checked the drone over to make sure everything was working. “That’d be bad, you know?”

The engines screamed as he turned the copter on, the sound becoming less shrill as he directed it to lift off. “I spent a stupid amount of money on this,” he confessed sheepishly. “If the signal is lost, it’ll home back in on the GPS coordinates it started from.”

Carefully, watching the Bluetooth feed from the GoPro on his laptop, he directed the drone into the gate. As it crossed through, the sound of the engines and the camera feed stopped. Moving cautiously, he stared through the gate. The drone hovered on the other side, waiting. He nudged the controls, and it responded. “So,” he said, spinning the drone to face him and waving at it. “The gate will transmit ekectromagnetic radiation, but only if directed through the open end. Sound doesn’t transmit, though.” He glanced back at Marta, and grinned. “Ready to see if it’ll find its way back home?”

With that, he sent the drone sideways out of view and then killed the power to the remote control. “It’s about a mile up to the top,” he observed, checking his watch. “Give it...five minutes, maybe?” He shrugged. “It’s a fast little thing.”

A few minutes later, a distant buzzing could be heard. Then the drone drifted into view, motion sensors making its flight path erratic as it dodged trees. Pete flipped the control back on, and guided it the last distance. “Holy shit,” he breathed, backing up the GoPro video and packing the drone away. “It really did work.”

Excitement warred with nervousness as he regarded the gate once more. Then, deliberately, he offered Marta his hand. “Shall we?”
 
“I want to make sure it really did open to where we think it did. Also, that it doesn’t flip the charge of our atoms, or something terrible like that.”

Marta blinked twice, and grew terribly concerned, “That… that’s a thing?”

“That’d be bad, you know?”

“Right,” she agreed, falling back a touch as Peter set up his drone and directed it through the gate. While she was relieved to know his drone survived the experiment, those moments waiting for it to return stretched into eternity, and wrapped up far too quickly. Now, there was nothing left to stop them.

“Shall we?”

Biting her bottom lip, Marta nodded, “I guess so. So, one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind?” Despite her enthusiasm, Marta hesitated right before the gate, and ran her free hand through it. She though breaching it would feel like breaking the surface of water, or something similar, but instead she just felt air. It certainly seemed safe. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she stepped through.

Part of her expected it to feel different, that she would feel different once she stepped through the gate. But nothing had changed, except their location, on top of the hill instead of on the bottom. Try as she might, she couldn’t make out their start location from here. “It works,” she repeated, the words as close to religiously reverent as she could manage. The she turned to Peter and laughed, nudging him, “Next weekend you are going to have to take me out to Boston.”
~*~​

The ride home was an excited exchange of ideas, while Marta took furious notes about how the experiment proceeded, and what their next steps would be. They’d play around with distance first, starting small but expanding their scope each trip. After that, they’d test out Peter’s proposed time travel equations.

“You are going to have to explain it to me again, how you think we can use these bridges to transverse time, in addition to distance.”
 
Gripping Marta’s hand, Pete took a deep breath and steeped himself. Then, with a nod, they stepped through together. He felt his ears pop a little at the sudden change in pressure, and the wind was now coming from a different direction, but that was it. Nothing else, except the change in the view, told them that they’d traveled through space in an instant. “It works,” Marta breathed.

“It... it does,” he agreed, wide-eyed. Watching the drone do it was one thing. Experiencing it was something else.

Suddenly, Marta laughed. “Next weekend,” she declared, nudging him with an elbow, “you are going to have to take me out to Boston.”

“Next weekend,” he laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “I can take you out to Paris if you want!”

-*-

“You are going to have to explain it to me again,” Marta said, “how you think we can use these bridges to transverse time, in addition to distance.”

They’d filmed transit through the gate, and taken pictures, and made copious notes on everything and anything that might be important. Time, wind speed and direction, humidity and temperature and atmospheric pressure. Their own pulse rates. Then they powered down the gate and packed the car, chattering excitedly about next steps. Boston. Washington. Paris. Maybe saving on air fare by taking a gate to Spokane for Thanksgiving. And, of course, time travel cane up.

“You’ve heard the phrase ‘spacetime’, right?” Pete began, watching her reaction out of the corner of his eye. “That’s a thing developed by Hermann Minkowski and then expanded on by Einstein in his work in general relativity. The three dimensions of Euclidean space and time were combine delicious into a four-dimensional manifold, allowing us to measure the interval between any two points regardless of the Lorentz contraction...”

He trailed off, chuckling at her expression. “I’m getting technical, right? Basically, spacetime allows us to treat time as a fourth coordinate point.” He shrugged. “Goode Brown actually had 10 coordinate points, implying she was an early adopter of string theory, and I built my version with 11coordinate points because I’m an M-theorist, and a bosinic string theorist might use 26, and I’m off topic again.” He drew a breath. “The point is, so far I’ve only varied the first three coordinates to allow us to project the gate somewhere else in space at the same time. But, if I alter the fourth coordinate, the one for time...”
 
Marta followed along with Peter’s explanation for the most part. It was incredible how much physics she’d picked up on in the past two weeks. Peter made it easy to listen, easy to get enthralled, easy to be swept up in his passion and optimism.

“That’s not so hard to understand, but time is a different matter from spatial considerations. After all, in a three-dimensional space, we can move in any direction, both forward and backward. Time, on the other hand, only goes in one direction. I mean, it just makes sense to me that a gate could connect us to a distant point, because I would be capable of moving to that point without the gates. I mean, barring the usually limitations of physics or gravity. But, since time works differently, it doesn’t quite follow that it could work the same way with the gates.”

“But, let’s say you are right. An easy enough proposition, considering your track record so far,” Marta acknowledged with an affection smile, “there are still concerns with actually going through it with. Ethical concerns. What’s that Jeff Goldblum quote from Jurassic Park, ‘Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they never stopped to think whether or not they should?’” Marta laughed, and brushed her hair back. “As a historian, I am both incredibly curious, and particularly wary of going back in time. As much as I would love to witness historical events in person, I am bit worried about changing things. Then I’d had to learn a whole new set of facts.”

Leaning back in her seat, she enjoyed the autumn palette of the passing trees. "That said, I see no ethical dilemma in using these gates to avoid the cost and hassle of commerical flights."
 
“Ah, causality,” Pete laughed. “The bugbear of all good time travel theories. Well, that and the vast quantities of energy theory said we’d need to manage it. But I don’t actually think that’s going to be an issue here.”

He gesticulated, then put his hand back on the steering wheel as he navigated the narrow Arkham streets. “See, the fourth dimension is time, right? But the fifth dimension is all possible histories for our universe, and the sixth dimension is all possible universes deriving from the initial start conditions of our Big Bang.” A grin. “So if we only vary the fourth dimensional coordinate, we should return to our own time - even if we accidentally alter something in the past. Because we’d have to move along the fifth dimension to see the outcome of that change.”

There was a brief pause. “In theory, at least. We’d need to set up some sort of test, first. Like... I don’t know. Leaving next Sunday’s newspaper on the table for us to find when we get home. With a note in it, saying ‘it works’.”

“That said,” Marta said after a moment’s thought, “I see no ethical dilemma in using these gates to avoid the cost and hassle of commerical flights."

Pete snorted laughter, then turned onto their street. “Of course not. Hell, that’s probably half of what these gates will be used for. Commercial transportation.” Pulling into his reserved space, he killed the ignition. “There are a lot of implications to this discovery, though. I mean, we’ve wrecked all forms of physical security with some programming and a couple of thousand dollars of hardware.”

He shook his head, trying to ignore the sudden image of terrorists using gates to walk bombs into the White House. “I wonder if there’s a way to block them?” he wondered aloud grabbing his laptop case and duffel bag. “Like firewalling a location, so a gate can’t open into it? That’ll be something to think about, won’t it?”

The ride up the elevator to the third floor was silent. The gates weren’t something to talk about public calls, not yet. He inserted his key into the lock, then hesitated. “Wouldn’t it be wild if we did find that newspaper?” Then he opened the door.

“Shit!” Pete stared at them, eyes wide as he froze in the act of laying a newspaper in the table. The two men stared at each other, then the Pete in the kitchen laughed nervously. “I, uhm, uh...”. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “Hey, uhm, Marta? I... got the coordinate wrong after all.”
 
Marta laughed at Peter’s remark about the newspaper, partially to hide her own nerves at the prospect. The thought of someone else –even if that someone else was just them from the future– in their place was disquieting, and the fact that these gates could be opened to anywhere, at any time, deepened that worry. And then that worry materialized before them, this other Peter standing right there.

“You guys are back already?” Marta, another Marta, also standing in the kitchen, asked “Well, umm… it works.”

“What’s going on here? Who are you?” Even as the questions came out, Marta realized how stupid they were. Clearly they were them, and they were doing precisely what Peter just suggested they would do. Which is probably why they came back to this moment, while that suggestion was fresh in their mind. But still,, Marta couldn’t help the questions, “You’re… us?”

The other Marta drew closer to her Peter, “Yeah, from a couple days from now. Tuesday, to be specific.”

“This is fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” The other Marta agreed. “I wasn’t expecting to come face to face with myself either.” Waving her before her now, “Of course, now that we are face to face, the only thing I can think of is that dream, from a few days ago. That dream where we…”

Marta nodded and blushed, “Yeah. That was… well, it was nearly as crazy as this.”

An awkward silence and tension hung in the air. What did one saw to their time displaced doppelgangers? They weren’t even from far enough in the future to provide them any interested insights into the coming days. Finally, the future her spoke up, “Well, we could celebrate. After you, you two just completed your first successful teleportation gate, and we just completed our first successful time travel gate. I am calling them temportation gates.”

“Temportation,” Marta repeated, with a small laugh, “I like that.” Suddenly curious, Marta played with her scarf, “So, how did you two celebrate the first gate you open. You know, the one we just completed.”
 
“
You’re… us?”

The other Marta drew closer to her Peter, “Yeah, from a couple days from now. Tuesday, to be specific.”

“This is fucking weird,” Marta observed.

Pete carefully set his bags down and locked the door, grateful nobody else had been in the hallway at the time. That would have been, in a word, awkward. “Why... why Tuesday?”

“Uhm,” the other Pete hesitated. “I kind of, uhm, got distracted Sunday. And then I did a quick test of the time travel concept yesterday, and then we figured we’d give it a full trial today. Uhm. Tuesday, I mean.”

“This is fucking weird,” Marta commented, shifting her shoulders so Pete could take her coat.

“Yeah,” Pete laughed, hanging them both in the closet. “I don’t think English has the verbs for this.”

“Yeah,” The other Marta agreed. “I wasn’t expecting to come face to face with myself either.”

“Well, yeah,” Pete agreed. “That too. Uhm, did this happen to you guys? When it was Sunday for you?”

“It did,” the other Pete confirmed, grabbing four glasses and filling them from the box of wine in the fridge. “It isn’t any less weird, this time round.”

The other Marta waved Marta around to look at her. It was kind of like watching her look in the mirror, Pete decided, but far more unsettling. He kept expecting them to mimic one another. ““Of course,” she commented with a nervous laugh, “now that we are face to face, the only thing I can think of is that dream, from a few days ago. That dream where we…”

Marta nodded and blushed, “Yeah. That was… well, it was nearly as crazy as this.”

Well, shit. He hadn’t been thinking about that - mostly because he’d been thinking of the implications of what this meant. But now, he couldn’t stop thinking about that. “Nearly,” he managed, taking a glass from himself and downing half of it

“Well, we could celebrate,” the other Marta said, sounding awkward. “After you, you two just completed your first successful teleportation gate, and we just completed our first successful time travel gate. I am calling them temportation gates.”

“Temportation,” Marta repeated, with a small laugh, “I like that.” Suddenly curious, Marta played with her scarf, “So, how did you two celebrate the first gate you open. You know, the one we just completed.”

“Well, we, uhm, drank a toast to the success of the, the temportation gates,” the other Pete said, raising his glass. “To the gates!” he said, everyone chorusing along before downing their wine. Pete collected the glasses and refilled them, the other Pete redistributing them.

Returning to the table with the box of wine, Pete, grabbed his seat once more. “To crazy thought experiments that get validated!” he suggested, draining his glass as everyone agreed.

“Yeah,” the other Pete laughed. “That was the toast I suggested.”

“Hm.” Pete refilled his glass, and the other Pete’s glass. “Do you have to remember it all? You know, make sure it happens?”

“I don’t think so,” the other Pete said carefully. “I think it’s just a matter of letting it play itself out.”

“Do what plays out next?” Pete asked. “Dinner? I mean, I’m kind of hungry after that hiking.”

“Well,” the other Pete said. “More like this.” His hand reached out, gripping Pete’s sweatshirt and pulling him close. Pete found himself pressed against the other him, one hand on his hard chest, the other running through his dark hair as they kissed. His tongue was flavored with the wine, and he opened his mouth to taste more before sliding into his mouth to explore.

“Well, fuck,” Pete breathed as they broke for air.

“I know, right?” The other Pete agreed, voice husky. He nodded his head towards the two Martas. “They put in a hell of a show for us, in that dream,” he said with a sly grin, tugging Pete’s sweatshirt over his head and tossing it over his shoulder. “Only fair to return the favor.”

Pete grinned back, fingers working awkwardly at the buttons of the other Pete’s shirt. “Only fair,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss himself as he pulled the shirt down over the other Pete’s shoulders.
 
Marta sat at the table, dumbstruck by the display before her. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, after what happened in the dream. But dreams didn’t spill over into reality, at least, not usually. Sparing a glance to the other Marta, she noticed she wasn’t surprised at the turn of events, “Wait, did this happen with you guys?”

She nodded, and savored her glass of wine, “Yep. And it’s just as hot.” And Marta had to agree with her. By now, both men were topless, their slender, fit figures slithering over one another’s. They looked good together, desire kindling deep within her, and she wanted more.

“Don’t worry.” The other Marta pulled her attention away from the Petes for but a moment, “You’ll like how it ends. I promise.”

Marta released a husky laugh, “You promise?”

“I mean, I liked it you, and I’m you, so…” She finished her glass of wine and stood, coming up behind Marta now. Soft hands brushed her hair aside, and rubbed her shoulders and neck suggestively. “That said, you are going to want to be pretty wet for that.”

Leaning back into her doppelganger’s hands, Marta drew in a long breath, “That won’t be a problem. The only problem I foresee is losing my patience for watching and wanting to join in instead.”

Warm lips followed her hands, trailing a line of teasing kisses down her throat. “Well then, allow me to whet your appetite before we dive into the main course.” Then she pulled away, and immediately, Marta missed the heat of her body. Turning, she caught sight of her twin disrobing, the spectacle almost as enticing as watching Peter make out with himself.

Marta licked her lips, taking in the slim curves she’d seen in the mirror thousands of times, “So, what’s on the menu?”

The other Marta sat on the edge of the table and leaned back, displaying herself in ways she’d never seen before. Legs spread, her slick, hairless lips glistened with lust, “Me.”
 
Hot as it was to run his hands over his future self’s bare chest and nip at his throat, Pete found himself momentarily distracted by the sight of a naked Marta perched on the edge of the kitchen table, while Marta knelt between her thighs. The other Pete laughed. “Yeah, that got me too.”

“Like it doesn’t now?” Pete snorted, gripping his future self’s hard cock through his jeans, and smirking at the gasp it provoked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” the future Pete managed, rocking his hips into the grip. “But it was even better, when I didn’t know what happened next.”

The naked Marta moaned, fingers running through Marta’s hair. Pete felt his cock throb in sympathy. “What does happen next?”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself,” the other Pete teased.

Pete stood, tugging his future self upright and back into the table. His fingers worked at the other man’s belt and jeans as he kissed him again, tongues lazily dueling. His hands slid into the open pants, wrapping around the hard heat of his cock. “Am I on the right track?”

“Getting there,” the future Pete gasped.

Pete went to his knees next to Marta - his Marta, he guessed from her clothes, and not the Tuesday Marta. His hand wrapped around the future Pete’s cock, stroking in time with Marta’s tongue on Marta’s slit, waiting until he saw both women looking at him. Then, string up at the naked Marta, he ran his tongue over future Pete’s cock. His doppelgänger gasped, gripping Marta’s hand. Then, still watching Marta’s reaction, he slowly swallowed his future self’s meat.
 
Marta had tasted herself before, on Peter’s lips, on Nkendi’s, on others before them, even on her own fingers, after bringing herself to orgasm. She’d tasted herself, but never like this, directly. And hearing herself moan as her tongue delved deep was delicious as well, driving her to new depths within herself.

Peter’s warmth became a distraction, further distracting her by sucking his own doppelganger’s dick. Not merely sucking, but performing, for her, and the other her. She pulled him away from himself, for just a moment, taking a deep kiss that tasted of his cock and her cunt, and giggled as they pulled apart.

“This is still fucking weird.”

Fingers continued to explore herself, two slim digits sinking into her sultry slit. Soft muscles clung to her, resisting and embracing the movement within her. She throbbed in response, craving some attention as well, but her doppelganger promised the night would well for her, and already some enticing ideas percolated. So hungry fingers fucked the other Marta, fucked her the way she craved, deep and hard, and her lips wrapped around her twin’s pulsing clit.

Marta and Peter cried together, louder than the moist slap of flesh in flesh or her Peter’s enthusiastic slurping. She redoubled her effort to bring her counterpart to climax, taking advantage of her inside knowledge to drive herself crazy. Introducing little stinging bits on her clit enhance her bliss, and pushing a third finger into her dripping sex. She didn’t just thrust, but twisted her fingers, creating more friction and pressure, more heat, and eliciting more sharp cries from the other Marta’s lips.

Finally, Tuesday Marta seized, arching her back and going rigid. She didn’t let up, however, fighting the tension of clenching muscles to drag out an intense and nearly agonizing climax from her twin. She pulled away just as the other Marta’s voice gave out, leaving the other woman to slump against her Peter.
 
Pete wrapped his hand around his future self’s spit-slick shaft, vigorously pumping as he caresses his head with his tongue before swallowing again. His future self gasped and arched his hips then seized a fistfull of future Marta’s hair and pulled her into a hungry kiss. Out of his peripheral vision he could barely make out the shape of Marta, fucking future self hard with fingers and tongue.

Future Marta cried out in the familiar sounds of orgasm, and then future Pete followed. He made a hungry sound at the taste of his cum, hot and slightly salty, as it costed his throat. He swallowed greedily, fist stroking his future self’s cock to empty every last drop, his own cock hard and aching for relief.

He let Tuesday Pete’s softening meat slip from his mouth and grabbed a double handful of Marta, dragging her close and tasting her orgasm in her lips as he devoured her. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled, pulling her to his feet as he rose. His mouth covered her again, exploring her taste on her tongue as he dragged her pants down over her hips. Tuesday Pete and Marta worked at her shirt, drawing it over her head and casting it aside before unhooking her bra.

“She does,” Tuesday Pete agreed, kissing her and cupping a firm breast as Pete fumbled with his belt . Tuesday Marta just smiled and licked her lips, then gently but the other bare nipple.

Pete’s aching cock sprang free as he worked his pants down. Gripping his meat, he stepped between Marta’s spread legs and stared at the future versions of themselves as they traded Marta’s lips between them and But and licked at her bare skin. Then rested his head against her slit, letting it slide against her clit before pushing deep into her. “Fuck,” he gasped as he felt her stretch around him.

“Just wait until Pete catches his breath,” Tuesday Marta breathed into her ear, fingering her clit as Pete gripped her hips and drove into her.

“All of us are going to have you,” Tuesday Pete promised.
 
Hungry lips gripped Peter’s cock, and hungry arms held him close. Marta cried out with each of his thrusts, cries that were swallowed by the other Marta and other Peter. Three sets of hands explored her body, cupping her breasts and teasing her clit and gripping her hips and ass, and it was delicious as it was maddening. Delirious pleasure gripped her mind, gripping Peter’s thick cock in turn.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, begged, tugging Pete’s hair to drink his moans from his lips.

“We might need a couple things first,” Marta, the other Marta, decided and pulled away. She didn’t pay her any mind, losing herself to the building lust of Peter’s strokes and his curious hands and the other Peter’s growing hardness. When Tuesday Marta returned, she handed something to her Peter, and took a deep kiss form his lips. Then, there was an audible click, like a bottle cap opening, and one of Peter’s hands trailed down her spine and over the curve of her ass.

“Let’s get you ready, while Pete gets ready,” Marta whispered in her ear. Cool lube splashed down the curve of her ass, and soft, slender fingers rubbed it in until it grew warm. One thick finger pushed into her ass, counterpoint to the slick friction of Peter fucking her cunt. Future Peter was slow and methodical with the digit, stretching her without hurting her. A second finger pushed into her, massaging her tight anal walls with warming lube.

Peter, her Peter, never stopped fucking her, never slowed. His cock pistoned in and out, driving past the resistance of silken muscles. Thighs pulled him in closer, deeper, holding his full length inside her, before faltering to his momentum. She fell back against Tuesday Peter, her body molded around his fingers and craving more. “I want you,” she moaned, and then gasped as her Peter pounded, “I want both of you inside me.”

“And I want to watch,” the other Marta called, from her position on the loveseat. She’d located a vibrator –her favorite toy from her single days– and lined it up to her dripping pussy. “I want to watch her take both of you at once.”
 
Pete moved, pulling Marta off the table as the future Pete opened the bottle of lube. He gripped her ass, using his hold to support her as he drove up into her, kissing her as the future Marta kissed her Pete. Then he shifted around, half lifting Marta into Tuesday Pete’s lap. “I want you,” she moaned, leaning back against the other Pete’s chest, “I want both of you inside me.”

And I want to watch,” the other Marta called, slowly filling her sli. “I want to watch her take both of you at once.”

Both Petes lifted, and Pete’s eyes went wide as he felt the other Pete’s cock slide against his through the thin walls of flesh that separated her cunt and colon. “Do we feel good?” he demanded, kissing her. “Does it feel good, taking both of us?”

The other Pete captured her lips now, rocking his hips to drive himself into her ass. Pete gripped her hips and bit at her throat, driving his aching cock into her heat. “I should have brought a camera,” Tuesday Pete gasped. “So we could watch this again.”

The other Pete cupped one of her breasts, circling a taut nipple with his thumb. Pete joined in, his tongue exploring the heated flesh and the hard digit. “Fuck,” he gasped, kissing Marta hungrily. “I... I’m close...”

Tuesday Pete bit her shoulder, rocking his Vick up into her ass. “Tell us,” he gasped, tugging her hair to arch her throat. Pete bit at her smooth skin, teeth following the pulsing vein. “Tell us.., you want us...”. Pete kissed her, then Tuesday Pete kissed her, then the two Petes kissed in front of her mouth. “Tell me... you want... us... “
 
Fuck, it was even hotter than the dream, more intense as both Peters fucked her. Their rhythms varied, from opposing to syncing to opposing once more, testing her limits and exciting her passion. “Peter… oh fuck, Peter.”

Words were impossible, with both men buried to the hilt within her. No room for words, not as both men claimed space within her. Nonsense cries spilled from her lips, repeating the word “yes” over and over again, in time with their disjointed thrusts.

“I... I’m close...” Peter moaned between kisses, offering her his moans with each deep stroke.

Dammit she didn’t want him to stop to pull out, wanted him inside her as he came. She couldn’t… she shouldn’t… but he felt so good, and she wanted him. “Close,” she managed, fitting the word between breathy gasps and sharp moans.

Legs tightened around her Peter, and she arched against Tuesday Peter, rigid pleasure overtaking her body and mind. Her eyes fluttered back and her muscles fluttered over two thick cocks.

On the couch, the other her moaned, fucking herself hard with the vibrator. Holding it deep within her, so the rotating mechanisms could stimulate friction within her, and the vibrating prong could reach her throbbing clit. She’d been the one sandwiched between them, three days ago, and that memory combined with the performance before her to drive her wild. She could still remember how it felt, hoisted by both men and impaled on their delightfully thick cocks.

Memory combined with the present, remembering the orgasm her previous self was now experiencing, and she too went over that edge, stuffing herself full of the silicon toy as bliss radiated in waves along her nerves. She collapsed down into the cushions, the weight of her rapture a pleasant aftermath. Present Marta would get no such reprieve from the maddening ecstasy, she knew, remembered. Not while both men used her trembling body for their own pleasure.
 
Pete groaned at the maddeningly delightful feel of Marta’s orgasm, driving deep into her as her thighs gripped him. He felt his balls tightening and his cock hardening, and barely remembered that he wasn’t wearing a condom. With his last grip on reason he pulled out, letting his slick shaft slide over her lips and belly. Then he grunted and gasped as he climaxed, hot streams of pearly semen streaking her stomach and breasts as he ground himself against her slit.

“Fuck, I wanted to pump my cum into you,” Tuesday Pete breathed in her ear, his hands slick with Pete’s seed as he caresses her body. His hips rose and fell, driving his length into her. “I wanted to feel you milking my dick and taking every last drop.” His hands blazed a sticky, slick trail over her breasts, one semen-coated finger tracing her lips. He bit her ear, and grinned. “Do you think I look as hot cumming as I think I do?”

Pete kissed Marta, slowly sucking the taste of his cum from her lips, then stepped back. Tuesday Pete rolled her over, his cock still buried in her ass as he bent her over the table. “I got myself off already,” he whispered, gripping her hands and wrapping them around the table edge. “And I remember you cum again before I do.” His hips slapped against her ass as he listened into her. “Fuck, it was hot watching me fuck you.”

Pete, meanwhile,crossed the living room to kneel before Tuesday Marta, glancing over his shoulder to see Marta watching him before sliding the vibrator from her folds. “Do you remember watching this?” he asked, watching her convulse as his tongue explored her sensitive slit. His finger joined in, exploring her slippery depths. “Do you remember me asking you to suck me hard again while you watched me eat you out?” A second and then a third finger joined in.
 
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