Teleportation.

Have you ever noticed how many fictional tales these days hinge on the gimmick of teleportation? At the snap of a finger, the characters are whisked away to another part of the universe or a parallel dimension or something. Ain’t the marvels of science fiction and fantasy just fantastic? #sarcasm.

It’s just so hilariously ridiculous. Authors lean on teleportation like a crutch, a cheap deus ex machina to get their characters out of a tight spot or to speed the plot along.

Don’t believe me? How often has a character been in the jaws of certain death and then suddenly been transported to the safety of their space condo sipping on alien margaritas? It’s storytelling convenience at its finest.

In my less cynical moments, I recognize the allure of teleportation—I did implement it in my own story after all. Teleportation speaks to our innate human yearning for freedom and escape, for breaking all the physical barriers that bind us. It’s the ultimate expression of mobility, the very embodiment of ‘the grass is greener on the other side’.

But teleportation is problematic. Where is the beauty in seeing people overcome problems without struggle? What happened to the scenic route with all its peaks and valleys? Why even bother making a setting if the characters are going to teleport through it without living in the world I spent hundreds of hours creating?

And don’t even get me started on the practicality of the whole concept. What happens to the air or matter at your destination? Does it cause a shockwave of displaced matter? Or does it fuse with you like some terrible science experiment gone wrong? There are a whole slew of physics rules bending over backward just to make this plot device work.

But you know what annoys me the most? Teleportation, in the hands of a lazy writer, robs the story of its stakes. One minute you’re at the edge of your seat, the next you’re rolling your eyes as your hero blinks away from the 87th close call. An interesting story thrives on tension and threat. If your characters can just ‘teleport’ out of every tough spot, where’s the suspense? Where’s the thrill?

However, teleportation itself is not an evil concept; it’s simply misused. If an author were to address these issues and limitations, and perhaps even use them to further develop their characters and plot, then they are not the problem. Perhaps if teleportation were a curse, rather than a blessing, that took something dear from you each time you used it… now wouldn’t that be a story worth writing?

But that isn’t the story I wrote. In my moments of weakness, I compromised the artistry of my world, pretending that the ‘rule of cool’ was enough to compensate. Maybe teleportation isn’t the problem—maybe the problem is authors like me. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel validated in my dislike for teleportation as a plot device when I found myself getting teleported by a shady black market broker.

About the same time it took for you to listen to my long-winded teleportation tangent, we’d been magically yoinked from a dangerous situation to a setting so clichéd, I could already smell the musty desperation.

The place was an interior decorator’s nightmare. A rundown, half-demolished dump that reeked of neglect. The wallpaper was peeling, the furniture was falling apart, and the air had that distinct old, musty smell of dampness, rot, and despair. I mean, if you’re going to be a sketchy black market operator, couldn’t you at least spring for some proper insulation?

Standing next to me, Jake dusted his hands, scattering the ashen dust that was a teleportation artifact a few seconds ago. He puffed his chest up a bit and smirked.

“Not too bad for a cheap artifact,” he said proudly.

Smoothing down my uniform that was a bit dusty and torn from the explosions earlier, I scoffed. “Oh yeah, teleporting from the scene of a crime to the setting of a B-list horror flick? Top-notch tourism, Jake. The only thing missing is an alien serving us margaritas.”

As if on cue, a growl echoed through the rickety building, followed by a goon turning the corner and charging straight at me. He was a proper minion straight out of the steroid users' handbook—a mountain of a man with a shiny, bald head and probably more muscle than my total body weight.

I flinched away, barely making it half a step when Jake’s voice reached my ears.

“Ajax, stop!” he hollered, stepping between us. His arm shot out, catching Ajax’s punch with one hand.

The behemoth, Ajax, growled. “He’s not on the VIP list, boss.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “He’s with me, Ajax. Add him to your imaginary VIP list.”

Ajax squinted at me with suspicion and hostility in his eyes. “He doesn’t look like a VIP.”

“That’s because I dress down,” I shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation. “You try being a creator god for a day. It’s a celebrity thing; you wouldn’t understand.”

The massive henchman turned his squint back to Jake. “Boss…?”

“He’s with me,” Jake repeated firmly.

Ajax stared at me for a moment longer before grunting and finally backing off. “Alright, boss, if you say so. I’ll add him to the VIP list.”

And just like that, I was promoted from an intruder to a VIP guest.

With the immediate crisis defused, Jake led me deeper into the base, with Ajax trailing a few steps behind like an oversized shadow. He wasn’t friendly by any means, but I valued his current attitude a lot higher than when he was trying to violently murderize me.

As we walked, Jake started to fill me in. “I have five key people who work for me,” he said,” Ajax you’ve met. The others are Cinder, Rune, Grit, and Fizz. Not all of them are here today. In our line of work, it’s better to not all be in the same place at once.”

Huh. In the original story, Jake was a small obstacle for the main character to overcome before disappearing into narrative oblivion. I couldn’t recall giving him a posse of creatively-named henchmen. He just died and disappeared before, never to be plot relevant again.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

So who were these five henchmen? I knew absolutely nothing about them.

We turned into what looked like it could pass for a living room, with a worn coffee table surrounded by three beaten-up leather sofas.

“Ajax, go fetch us some food, would you?” Jake said.

The giant huffed a little yet dutifully moved away, grumbling something about ‘VIP treatment’ that I didn’t quite catch.

Jake and I each sank into one of the plush, well-worn cushions. The air was heavy with the scent of old brick and dust, with a faint trace of burning electricity. Overhead, a flickering fluorescent light bathed us in a harsh white glow, casting long, wavering shadows against the cracked walls.

I nudged a small piece of rubble with my boot, watching as it skittered across the floor. Jake had his elbows propped on his knees, his gaze fixed on me. His dark eyes were lit by the flickering glow of the overhead lights, giving them an uncanny sparkle.

“So, uh…” I tried to break through the silence. “Where are we?”

He stared at me for a few more tense seconds. I nervously raked a hand through my hair and almost sighed in relief when he leaned back, stroking his stubbled chin.

“Mayhaps I’ll tell you that later. I’ve already shown you too much by bringing you here, so the integrity of this base is already compromised.”

I glanced at the closest wall which was missing a huge chunk out of it, letting in a cool, late-summer breeze that somehow did nothing about the stale air inside the building. “I have a feeling that the integrity of this base was compromised a long time ago.”

He laughed. “You may be right. I left Ajax in charge while I was gone and it seems like he let things get out of hand.”

‘...Huh?’

“Wait, this place was in normal condition when you left?”

“Yes.”

“...And how long were you gone?”

He cupped his chin and rolled his eyes back while he did a few mental calculations before answering, “About… two months, give or take?”

My eyes widened with shock and a bit of awe. “Wow. How is this even possible? It’s like nobody’s been here in a hundred years.”

Jake waved my statement away. “Nah, it’s not that bad. He’s just a little messy and disorganized.”

“...” How was I supposed to respond to that?

“Uh, anyway…,” I decided to change the topic. “I need to get back to Horizon Academy. Tonight, preferably. If you won’t tell me where we are, then do you have a way to get me back?”

He smiled. “I’ll take care of that. Nobody will even know you were missing.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said. “So, what now?”

“What now, indeed? I don’t think either of us were expecting you to end up here today. I suppose we should start with you explaining a bit about that situation from before?”

“When the KSP lady blew up the counseling center?” I said. “I killed her comrade, a man known as the Magic Bomber. He was planning to terrorize Horizon and kill some cadets in the process, so I threw him off the island.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That was you? All the authorities have been buzzing for the last two weeks because of that. It made moving around a real pain in the ass.”

“That was me,” I affirmed.

Jake gave me a renewed gaze. “While the Magic Bomber wasn’t a terribly intelligent individual, it’s still quite the accomplishment to off him on Horizon without getting caught. Color me impressed.”

As he was talking, he leaned over and pulled on a hidden latch on the floor. From beneath the secret door, he retrieved a peculiar-looking device, flicking a hidden switch before whispering something that I couldn’t quite catch into it. His face held a serious expression I had rarely seen up to this point.

Suddenly, an alarm began to blare through the building. “What the…?!” Jake muttered, jumping to his feet. I followed suit, my heart pounding in my chest.

‘What is it now?’ I inwardly grumbled.

It was just event after event today.

“Boss!” Ajax’s voice boomed from across the hall. “I didn’t do it!”

As we arrived at the scene, Ajax was standing by the entrance holding a stack of pizza boxes in one hand and a panicked delivery guy by the scruff of his neck in the other.

“Let him go,” Jake grumbled, rubbing his temples.

Ajax released the man and the poor guy grunted as he missed his landing and fell down.

Jake helped him up and fished some cash out of his wallet, handing him a hundred-dollar bill. “Sorry for the trouble. I hope this makes up for it.”

The man gratefully took the bill with a shaking hand and scampered away. We watched him until his car hit the end of the street before Jake turned to Ajax.

“This is supposed to be a secret base.”

“I know; that’s why I captured him,” he replied. “He won’t be snitchin’ if he’s dead.”

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You do realize that pizza places know exactly where their delivery drivers go, right? If you killed him, the cops would be all over this place within hours.”

We moved back inside. The moment the door clicked into place, a familiar voice sent a shiver down my spine. “You really need to get better henchmen, Jake.”

I whirled around and there, leaning casually in the opposite doorway, was Lilith. Her obsidian hair shimmered in the dim lighting and her devilish eyes danced with amusement as they met mine.

While I ended up meeting her through Jake much earlier than intended, I still needed to play this off as if it were our first meeting.

“Whoa, who’s the pretty lady?” I asked.

She laughed and shot me a smoldering look. “Mine epithet is Lilith. Pleasure to meet you, handsome.”

‘Okay, good. She’s playing along.’

The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched upward. “Lilith, Brick here needs a lift back to Horizon Academy. Can you take care of that for me?”

She cast me a sly, flirtatious glance. “Oh, I’d be more than happy to escort him back.”

Ajax piped up again, looking utterly betrayed. “Why does she get to do the fun stuff while I get in trouble for ordering pizza?”

Jake rubbed his forehead. “Ajax, we’ll have a long discussion about the term ‘secret base’ later.”

Lilith motioned for me to come closer with a sensual wave of her hand.

“We’ll need to go to a special place for our little ‘adventure’. It’ll just be the two of us.”

With a nod from Jake, we moved further into the base “Have fun,” he called after us with a wave of his hand.

Once we had turned a few hallways, we paused. Silence hung heavy in the air, disturbed only by the distant echo of Jake chastizing Ajax. She approached me and brushed her hand against mine. I felt a strange sensation, a sort of static electricity, and the world blurred around me.

When my vision cleared, we were inside a pocket dimension. Behind us, in the distance, dozens of people moved in and out of several buildings, some of them tugging monsters around in chains.

“I just need to put in the coordinates,” Lilith said, pulling my attention back to her.

We were standing next to a teleportation gate, a towering metallic arch identical to those used on Earth. She walked up to the gate, her fingers dancing over the keypad as she punched in a series of numbers. With a resounding chime, the gate hummed to life, a swirling vortex of energy appearing within its frame.

I glanced back at the smuggling operation, a thrill of anticipation in my stomach. It wasn’t time to interfere with it just yet, but the very fact that I was here meant I was moving in the right direction.

Without hesitation, I stepped through the gate, the cool, swirling energy enveloping me before releasing me in the center of Lilith’s empty classroom.

Though I was only gone for a short time, I was back on Horizon.