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The Mistress of Illusions

Page 19

by Michael D. Resnick


  He walked to the door, took one step outside, raised his empty hands in the air when Holliday glared at him, and stayed in the shadow of the building.

  “John Ringo,” growled Holliday, “you killed the only friend I ever had.”

  Raven resisted the urge to blurt out, “No, it was me!”

  “He never really liked you, Doc,” said Ringo. “Hell, nobody does. And I’m here to put you out of your misery.”

  The two men stared at each other, absolutely motionless, for almost ten seconds. Then, by some unseen, unknowable mutual consent, they went for their weapons.

  The two shots were fired simultaneously. Onlookers later claimed to have heard only a single shot. Both men flew backward and lay motionless on the ground.

  Raven rushed over and looked at the bodies. Holliday had a bloody hole over his heart, and Ringo had a small hole right between his eyes.

  “My God, they were as good as everyone thought they were!” he muttered as Lisa joined him.

  “I know,” she said. “Now come with me.”

  “But someone has to be an eyewitness for the authorities,” protested Raven.

  “You and Ringo brought the authorities into town in the back of your wagon,” she noted. She pulled gently at his arm. “Now come with me.”

  He turned reluctantly from the bodies and fell into step beside her.

  They turned off the main street, walked over to a totally nondescript street, walked half a block, and then she led him into a small building, abandoned store or bar, he couldn’t tell which.

  And one step into it she was Lisa again, and then Eddie Raven found himself alone, staring at the walls of his Manhattan apartment.

  25

  “Damn!” he muttered. “That felt real!”

  He walked to the refrigerator, opened it, pulled out a can of beer, popped it open, walked into his living room, and sat down on his padded easy chair, trying to assimilate everything that he’d experienced in Tombstone.

  There was a knock at the door. He was about to get up when he heard Lisa’s voice.

  “Stay where you are. I let myself in.”

  “How did you do that?” he asked. “It was double-locked.”

  “I am not without my skills,” she answered.

  She walked into the living room, dressed like the twenty-first-century Lisa once again, stared at him, and then smiled. “I must say that you don’t look any the worse for wear.”

  “What wear?” he said. “We took another imaginary trip, saw a bunch of historical figures shoot it out like on a movie set or maybe Disneyland, and came back.”

  She smiled. “I heard you say that it felt real.”

  “Well, it did.”

  “Of course it did. It was real, Eddie.”

  “Sure,” he said sardonically. “I’ve just been in a gunfight in Tombstone half an hour ago.”

  “No,” she said. “Closer to a century and a half ago.”

  “Come on,” he said irritably. “It was all an illusion. You’re the Mistress of Illusions, remember?”

  “You really think it was an illusion?” she asked, amused.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you got a computer here?”

  “On the desk in the corner,” said Raven.

  “Do me a favor, Eddie,” said Lisa. “Walk over to it and activate it.”

  He stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out what she was driving at, but finally shrugged, walked over to the desk, seated himself, and activated the computer.

  “It’s working?” she asked.

  He stared at the screen. “It’s working.”

  “Good,” she said. “Now Google ‘Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.’”

  He did as she requested—and was told that no such thing existed.

  “Something’s wrong with this,” he said. “Google can’t seem to find it.”

  “Anything’s possible,” she said with a shrug. “Can you try to bring up one other thing?”

  “What?” asked Raven.

  “Gunfight at the Clanton Ranch.”

  “There’s no such thing,” said Raven. “It was exciting, but it was imaginary.”

  “Humor me,” she said.

  “What the hell,” he said with a shrug, typing it in. The screen changed, and he stared at it in rapt fascination.

  “Well?” asked Lisa.

  “The Gunfight at the Clanton Ranch,” he read, “perhaps the most famous battle of the Old West, took place between two families of the Tombstone, Arizona area—the Earps and the Clantons. When the dust had cleared, four Earps lay dead on the ground. It is thought, though not known for sure, that the notorious gunfighter Johnny Ringo took part in the battle on the Clantons’ side.”

  “Still think it was imaginary?” she asked.

  “Let me check a public computer and see if I get the same results, just in case you rigged this one.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Next time we go out.”

  “Do you really think it’ll read any differently?” she asked.

  He paused for a long moment, letting what he’d just read sink in. “No, it really happened,” he said at last. Suddenly he frowned. “And that means that I killed Wyatt Earp!”

  “You’re a better shot than you thought,” said Lisa.

  “Have I changed any other parts of history?” he asked.

  “A few,” she said. “A lot of your excursions were to fantasy worlds, where history doesn’t exist and hence can’t be changed.” She smiled. “There are still Munchkins, there’s still a Dracula . . .”

  “I get the picture,” said Raven.

  “I hope so, because you’ve only got one test left.”

  “Before what?” he asked promptly.

  “Before the mission you were created and chosen for,” said Lisa.

  26

  “What test, and what mission?” demanded Raven.

  “All will be made clear in the fullness of time,” answered Lisa.

  “From what you tell me, I haven’t got the fullness of time,” growled Raven.

  “Try not to be mad at me, Eddie,” she said, reaching out and holding his hand. “I’m not the enemy. In fact, I’m your biggest supporter.”

  “Then tell me what this final test you mentioned is all about.”

  She offered him a wan smile and a shrug. “I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  She shook her head. “I mean I can’t.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Raven irritably. “You knew every other test or adventure or fantasy or call ’em whatever you will in advance, so why not this one?”

  “Because your final challenge is beyond my power to create, or even to help you overcome the challenges.”

  “I’ve been Dracula and Robin Hood and a Munchkin and Humphrey Bogart and Mordred and Alan Quatermain,” said Raven irritably. “How the hell much stranger can it get?”

  “It’s not a matter of strange, Eddie,” said Lisa. “It’s a matter of dangerous.”

  “So where does this final test take place, here or in some fantasy world?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “And they weren’t fantasy worlds when you were in them.”

  “You are coming along with me, aren’t you?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

  “I’ve taken you as far as I can,” she answered. “The final challenge is beyond my scope and power.”

  “So you won’t be there with me?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  “Am I never to see you again?” asked Raven suddenly. “Because if that’s the case, to hell with everything else, and I’ll stay here with you.”

  “You would not be the man I love if you could turn your back on a universe that is in dire need of you,” answered Lisa. “
You must go through with it.”

  “Then come with me,” he persisted.

  She stared at him for a long moment. “Perhaps,” she said at last.

  “Perhaps?” he repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means,” she replied, “that even the Mistress of Illusions is not totally in control of her own destiny.”

  “Who is?”

  She smiled bitterly. “You are, of course.”

  “I’d ask you to explain that,” said Raven, “but even if you could I probably wouldn’t believe or understand it anyway.”

  She sighed deeply. “I don’t know what else I can say to you.”

  “How about your devilish friend?”

  She frowned. “You mean Rofocale?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “You’re a local girl I fell for, and he’s a guy who got shot by mistake in a holdup.” He grimaced. “Or so I thought. But it turned out that you’re the Mistress of Illusions and he’s the chief demon in Hell. That’s a hell of a combo.”

  “You make us sound so evil, Eddie,” she said in hurt tones. “We’re trying to save the universe, not destroy it.”

  “I thought I was supposed to save it.”

  “You are,” she replied. “But you need preparation. We’ve been giving it to you.”

  “Someday you must tell me how being Dracula helped save all of creation,” said Raven.

  “You learn different approaches with every incarnation, every adventure. We don’t know which ones you’ll need; we just know that the better prepared you are, the more such approaches you master, the better equipped you will be for whatever you encounter in the Ultimate Challenge.”

  “Damn!” muttered Raven. “That sounds like it has capital letters in front of each word.”

  “How perceptive you are,” said a familiar voice, and Raven turned to see Rofocale seated on his couch at the other end of the room.

  “I’d ask how you got here,” said Raven, “but you’d probably tell me, and I’ve stockpiled enough nightmares already.”

  Rofocale uttered a single hearty laugh, then sat perfectly still, staring at Raven.

  “So are you prepared to tell me what the hell this final test is all about?” demanded Raven.

  “Certainly,” said Rofocale. “It is a test to bring forth and hone those skills that you may need during what the Mistress of Illusions has properly labeled your Ultimate Challenge.”

  Raven grimaced. “Hell, you’re even vaguer than she was, and that’s going some.” He stared at the demon. “This is my life we’re talking about.”

  “Your life, and our future,” replied Rofocale.

  “And the future of every living thing anywhere in the universe,” added Lisa.

  “Well, I’m sure glad it’s nothing more important than that,” said Raven bitterly. “I’d hate to take the Ultimate Challenge feeling burdened or oppressed in any way.”

  “Good!” said Rofocale.

  “Subtlety’s not one of your long and strong points, is it?” asked Raven.

  “We all want the same thing, Eddie,” said Lisa. “Every single living thing wants it.” She sighed. “The problem is, only you can give it to us. I wish it were otherwise—”

  “You and me both,” Raven cut in.

  “But it’s not,” she concluded. “For what it’s worth, you were chosen because you are the one man—the one being—in the universe who can pull it off.”

  “If I’m that awesome,” said Raven, “why do I need a final test?”

  “Because the opposition is every bit as awesome, and has been preparing its defenses for eons,” answered Rofocale.

  “Who is the opposition?”

  “Master the final test and you’ll find out soon enough,” said the demon. “No sense burdening you with such knowledge now, before we know you’ll survive to meet the opposition.”

  “I admire your notion of confidence-building,” said Raven wryly.

  “You already know that you are the one entity out of trillions, quadrillions, who might be able to emerge triumphant.”

  Raven grimaced. “Somehow I bet that reads a hell of a lot better than it sounds.” He paused. “Do I get to carry any weapons with me?”

  “Just your most powerful,” said Rofocale.

  Raven stared at him curiously.

  “The one you were born with, Eddie,” said Lisa. “Your brain, your creativity, your willpower—yourself.”

  “Do I have any armor, or shields, or any defenses?”

  “Same answer,” said Lisa. “Just what you were born with.”

  “Okay,” said Raven. “I assume whatever test I’m facing, I don’t take it right here in my apartment. Where do I take it, and how do I get there?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Rofocale. “When the time comes, you’ll be transported there.”

  “By plane? Train?” Raven paused. “Horseback?”

  Rofocale grinned. “Don’t concern yourself with details. One instant you’ll be here, the next you won’t be.”

  “Fine. Where will I be?”

  “Elsewhere,” said the demon.

  Raven stared at him. “Are you sure we’re on the same side?” he said.

  “Every living thing on this planet is on your side,” said Rofocale.

  “Both those who know it and those who don’t,” added Lisa.

  “Am I being transported in the next ten minutes?”

  “I really don’t know,” answered Rofocale.

  “If not, there’s a great bartender in an all-night tavern over on the next block,” said Raven. “I’m going to walk over there for one of his Manhattans while I think about this.”

  “There’s nothing to think about, Eddie,” said Lisa. “When the time comes, poof!—you’re gone.”

  “Alone?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. No hero, or savior, or call it what you will, has ever done this before.” Suddenly she frowned. “At least, none has ever returned from it.”

  Raven walked to the door. “I assume whoever or whatever it is can find me even if I’m at the bar, or walking to or from it.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Lisa, walking over and joining him.

  “Not me,” said Rofocale. “I attract too many stares—and this time of night, with no disguise, too damned many of them are hostile.”

  “Try not to steal my high school track medals,” said Raven as he walked out onto the landing, waited for Lisa, and closed and locked the door behind him.

  They went down the single flight of stairs, out the front door, and began walking down the sidewalk. Suddenly Raven stopped and stared at her under a streetlamp.

  “What is it, Eddie?”

  “You know,” he said, “I never thought to ask, but is this Lisa I’ve been seeing and dating all these months really you?”

  She nodded her head. “Yes, it is, Eddie,” she answered. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly?” he asked.

  “I had a life—quite a long and complex one—before I met you,” said Lisa. “I will probably have another—or the same one, extended—after you accomplish your goals. For the here and now, I’m Lisa and I live in New York.”

  “Not exactly a definitive answer,” remarked Raven.

  “I’m sorry,” she answered. “But it’s as definitive as I can be.”

  “Somehow I foresaw that answer,” he said unhappily. He looked ahead. “Oh, well—we’re almost there. And in retrospect, it’s just as well Rofocale didn’t come along. You never know how late-night drinkers will react to something like him.” He grimaced. “Hell, none of ’em have ever even seen something like him.”

  “He can look a little less awesome when he’s in public,” she said. “I mean, you saw him at Mako’s before the shooting and didn’t pay much attention to him.”
>
  “True enough,” he admitted. “It’s just that everything seems a little strange to me these days—except for the things that are very strange.”

  They reached the tavern. He opened the door and stepped aside while she entered, heard a couple of cars crash a block away, tried to spot them, couldn’t, and then walked through the doorway.

  And found himself elsewhere.

  27

  There was a moment of dizziness and total darkness. When Raven opened his eyes, nothing made any sense.

  Buildings were built top-first into the ground, widening as they grew taller. Shapes and colors were all wrong. Running water was alternately green and brown, but always opaque. Same with glass windows. And things that should have been opaque, like the walls around public bathrooms and jail cells, were totally transparent.

  He heard a growl off to his left and turned to see the source of it. It was a carnivorous dinosaur—an allosaurus if he remembered his textbooks properly—with foot-long teeth. He stared at it, wondering if it meant to charge, and the moment their eyes met it turned and raced away, screeching in terror.

  He was just about to relax when a pigeon leveled off and flew at him, clearly intent on plucking out one of his eyeballs. He slapped at it when it got within reach, and it flew away, shrieking in pain or terror or both.

  “Lisa?” he said aloud.

  There was no answer.

  It’s a weird venue, he thought, but if all I have to do is stay alive for however long I’m stuck here, somehow I don’t think the universe is in as much trouble as you and Rofocale make it sound.

  “Well, there’s no sense standing out here in the open as a target,” he muttered. “I think I’d better find someplace that’s a little harder to find and easier to defend.”

  He began walking down the street. An opaque puddle rose up, took on the shape of a ravenously hungry and fang-filled mouth, and tried to take a bite out of him. He ducked and sidestepped, picked up a glowing rock from the street, and hurled it at the puddle, which screamed in agony and flew apart into a hundred pieces, each piece whimpering in terror.

  “Watch it, fella,” said a stentorian voice behind him. “Even puddles have feelings.”

 

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