by Gary Starta
I dialed Stanford. The call went through. Now I began to question my trust, my evaluation of the situation. Could I have really transported to another dimension?
After connecting with a desk officer, I had my answer.
He said no one by the name of Stanford Carter currently works in the Boston crime lab. When he heard me gasp, nearly choking back a sob he became sympathetic, courteously informing me someone by that name had served at the lab some years back, but took leave for personal reasons. I disconnected, stunned even though I had mentally prepared myself for this reality as best as I could. If I had been transported to a different century the reality would have been the same. The real anguish is realizing you’re all alone, cut off from any and all past acquaintances.
Manners shook his head, eyes focused on the roadway, peering for an exit sign or perhaps offering me some alone time as a courtesy. I wished for the latter. He continued driving in silence. Good. At least he wasn’t going to tell me, I told you so…
“You’re free to dial whomever you wish, Ms. Diggs.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why are you being kind to me?”
“You must get over the initial shock. If you’re going to be any good to me to catch this Mollini, I’ll need you in top form. But I’m afraid…” I watched the road, wondering what he’d been about to say and why he’d not finished. No obstacles to divert his attention. He had intentionally stopped talking. I had no time to fool around. Mollini could be killing people in this world or even have possibly reentered my world. “Damn it, Manners. Finish the sentence. What else have I got to be afraid of? Is Mollini going back to my world, is that what you’re afraid to tell me?”
He shook his head. Finally, he turned his eyes to mine. Piercing, black, coal like, impossible to judge his sincerity.
“No. I don’t think so. Remember when I told you I had no double in your world?
I nodded, clutching my blanket tighter.
“There are no steadfast rules here.”
I cut him off. “Okay, I get that. I just tried to find my detective friend. He’s not here…”
“That’s not quite correct. I believe I heard the officer tell you he no longer works at the crime lab.”
“How could you?” I stammered, furious.
He pointed his right hand to his temple. “Telepathy, remember? I couldn’t help but hear him. Please don’t think of me as rude.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “Think nothing of it. I mean setting me up so your incubus son could eradicate my soul had been just a little misunderstanding. I’m sure you never intended for my life to be at risk.”
“That’s right,” he said, shaking an index finger at me. “I didn’t know his power. I never would have allowed it if…”
“Forget it, Manners. Just spit it out. What kind of trauma am I in for next?”
He laughed, weakly. “Don’t think of it as trauma. Think of it as doubling your power. Regrouping, or ultimately becoming one with yourself.”
And it dawned on me. Right there in a nanosecond.
“I have a double here--in this reality, don’t I?”
He nodded and put a blinker on. We would be taking I-95 South. I didn’t really have to ask where we going. I could only assume my other self probably still made Washington, DC or the nearby vicinity her home.
Sleepiness overcame me. At least twice by my count, my head nodded forward all zombie-like. Manners could have harmed me, violated me during any one of those times. Hell, he could do it even if I had been armed with weapons. Incubi inflict psychic harm. During dreams, during sex…I put my hand to my cheek. Oh, I had done it with his incubus son… How could I possibly act commanding, authoritative, or even be taken as a respectful woman in this demon’s eyes? I couldn’t. Not kidding anybody here. Worse, Manners probably is listening in on me telepathically as I think. Geoffrey would have laughed at my expense. The ridiculous predicament I had managed to get myself into. That wiseass lovable bastard… Wait, could he be here? I couldn’t summon the courage to ask Manners for the answer. A part of me didn’t want to know.
I had benefited from the catnap, regaining some strength. And although my head still felt fuzzy, the oncoming night felt rejuvenating. I felt too petrified to consider why. Was I changing again? Possibly altered from my little trip through the portal? Or reconstituted merely because the natural laws of this universe might be different? I had to admit--despite my concerns--I hadn’t fallen to total pieces. In the serenity of night, and the comforting hum of the minivan’s motor, I took stock of my feelings and emotions. Among them, there stood courage. It hadn’t abandoned me altogether. I might be trapped in an alternative reality, incapable of returning home to see Tara or Celeste; facing possibly certain death from Mollini once he realized I had followed him through the portal. Despite this, my internal shaking had ceased. Even at the thought of meeting my other self… even riding shotgun with an incubus…
We made a stop about two and a half hours into the trip at a rest stop in Maryland. I began to fumble for the door latch when he stopped me.
“No, Ms. Diggs. Let me help you.”
I smiled. “That’s a nice offer, but I’m not letting you follow me into the ladies’ room.”
“Well, at least let me help you part way.”
“No.” I said it curtly. I couldn’t be seen walking like a drunk here. Someone could report it. Police could show. I certainly didn’t need that. What would I say when they asked for my identity? I got of the van with a slight limp. He handed me ten dollars. “Get something to eat, it’s on me,” he said. I think I grumbled something, but it wasn’t anything resembling a thank you.
I managed to walk, slowly, the limp segueing into a lurch, but I had reached the bathroom without assistance-just some odd stares from children. Things were looking up until I thought about my meeting with my other self. Suppose she didn’t believe I had come from another universe, maybe she was nothing like me, didn’t consider extreme possibilities? If so, would I have to rely on the incubus to vouch for me? And as I ran my hands through my drying but still matted hair, anger bit me. How the hell did Manners know about my other self? I would make it a point to ask him first thing after I downed a super sized coffee and a vanilla crème donut. I had broken my sugar abstinence. At least my record would still be clean in my universe.
I finished the heaven like combo in the van. The judge sitting there all patient, hands resting on the wheel. I don’t think he had left his seat. I didn’t know if incubi had the need for bathroom breaks. I really didn’t care to know. But I did want to learn about his association with the other Caitlin Diggs. No matter how different she might be from me, odds are she didn’t share her downtime with demons.
I started to speak when the incubi’s hand came towards me.
I scooted against the door. “Get the hell away…”
He laughed again, airy and shrill like. Not threatening. Girlish even.
“I just wanted to remove a bit of crumb from the corners of your mouth, my dear.”
I glared at him. “Dear…?”
“I’m sorry. I have a fondness for women…”
“I bet you do, gaining your sustenance by sucking on their souls. What are they to you, some kind of jumbo sized Tootsie Pops?”
He backed away. Enough to let me know he wouldn’t provoke me further. Leaning against the driver’s side door in silence, I let him wallow.
He should feel bad, very bad. Hell, he should be in jail…
“I know you want to persecute me. But before you do, we have a common enemy to stop. I hope we can work together, civil-like.”
I swallowed the last of my coffee with an audible gulp. “I need to be enlightened a bit more. How about telling me why you think this Mollini is a common enemy and such a threat to your world?”
“Because he’s not from your world…”His hand shook in frustration. “I can’t explain it all to you right now. I have to get you to Agent Diggs. You two can work out a plan. And when we get there, we�
��ll meet the person who is our common friend.”
Wait a minute. Suddenly I stopped caring about how Manners came to know Diggs. “He’s in the middle of a return engagement? This is a homecoming for Mollini?”
“Again… not exactly… he’s never really lived in this world. But he was made here.”
I began to sift through the jigsaw puzzle in my mind. That would explain the otherworldly being posing as Grant.
“I’m beginning to think there are a lot of people pursuing my fugitive, Manners. So why is it imperative I catch him? What about you? What were you going to do about this if I hadn’t come along?” I glared.
He turned the engine and resumed a course for the highway before meeting my eyes. When he did, he spoke with hushed intimacy.
“We need a plan. He isn’t your everyday demon. The others here, the ones who are like me, they don’t have the means to stop him. And don’t think I’m not pissed about that fact. There’s a reason I chose the word made. You see, I don’t think he was so much born, as created. He’s not one of us. Therefore, he must have a specific purpose for returning here. And you’re right, Ms. Diggs. I do need you. I need a detective’s mind to find out what that is.” After that, he immediately broke eye contact.
I began to wonder if it was just a detective’s mind he required. I had somehow struck fear in Mollini before he eluded me. Did I possess a power to stop Mollini? Did Manners know about my recent evolution beyond my visions? Could he be aware of my empathic abilities or even the beginning stages of telekinesis? I didn’t know if Manners’s telepathic abilities gave him that kind of access. I hoped not. I didn’t want him to know… couldn’t trust him to know. I decided it would be best to talk to Agent Diggs-my other self--before divulging any more information to Manners. But with that conclusion came one more burning question, one I couldn’t resist asking.
“Manners,” I asked, “is this other Agent Diggs human?”
Nine
I stood outside her door with bated breath, the introduction of all introductions imminent. It promised to be the ultimate self-perception, meeting oneself face-to-face. My right hand began to quiver slightly as I rang the doorbell chime, the melody something classical and orchestral that I couldn’t quite place did little to curb the shaking. I heard feet scurrying towards the door. Deep breath, inhale, exhale; keep hands resting non confrontational by my sides. Here I go--oops--maybe here we go would be more appropriate.
The door opened. Major letdown… confusion… anger surfacing-again.
Briana McFadden opened the door. Where the hell is Diggs?
“Uh,” I said, probably summing up a thousand words in one grunt.
“Hi, dear. Come on in. The judge told me you’d be coming.”
I hesitated at the threshold. “I’m sorry. He told me I would find Agent Diggs here.” My eyes crisscrossed a spacious living room behind her. “So, is she here?”
“Please, Caitlin. Come in. I’ll explain.”
I could feel my teeth literally clench at the notion of being duped again. Manners had told me he would locate a parking spot; he had shown me to the apartment building and buzzed me in without even asking permission. I thought it strange. But again, parallel universe here; yet, I should have suspected duplicity. He scurried away quickly, rat like, leaving me alone.
“I can’t express how much I need to meet Agent Diggs,” I began. “And I don’t have time to figure out if you’re the Briana from my world… I’m not going to fall for anymore of your tricks, either.” Then I recalled how Manners said he would explain how he had come to meet Diggs. I deduced it had probably been through this Briana. I simmered down a bit, segueing from an all out boil to a less threatening simmer.
“You’re not my neighbor from Salem, are you?”
She nodded affirmatively. “Let me get you some tea. We’ll talk and then you can shower and change if you like.”
I had to admit the offer sounded cordial, not threatening. My wet, pain-wracked body pleaded with me to trust her. I could use some pampering.
“Okay,” I said.
She pointed for me to sit on a fluffy, flower printed couch. I agreed to take honey and lemon in my tea.
I sipped some of it before we resumed talking.
“I am an FBI agent, Caitlin. Ms. Diggs is my partner. The judge… sorry that’s what I call him. I should say Mr. Manners thought it would be wise for me to prepare you for your meeting. I see that to be the correct course of action, now that you’re…” Her voice trailed off.
“What is it?”
“Your aura, you’ve willingly damaged yourself. Toxins, they mask some of your essence. But don’t worry. I can help you with that.”
Toxins, I thought. Did she mean the donut, the cough medicine I had taken? She seemed to peer through me with knowing eyes.
“I’m glad you’re concerned about my aura, Ms. McFadden--that is your name?”
“Yes, but please call me Briana.”
“I appreciate this… Briana, but I have more pressing matters…”
She picked up on my hesitation to accept her aid. “I can see you don’t trust the Briana from your world. You have good reason not to. I don’t agree with what she did, although she had been coerced by the judge.” She laughed. I wondered what the smirk on her face meant.
“If you’re referring to my visions,” I said. “They’ve been restored.” I sipped more tea. “In fact, they are quite improved. That’s what led me here.”
Again the nod, she already knew this, apparently.
She folded her hands on her lap and explained how my visions were restored--with magic. She said I had probably felt like I was coming down with a cold, my body’s reaction to the unidentified intruder that it had believed to be a virus.
“You mean they hacked into me like a computer?” I countered. She didn’t answer right away. So I fumed in silence. In short, this Briana had explained how her doppelganger managed to restore my psychic capabilities by implanting a psychic memory, a memory taken from Manners’s brain to be precise. How much of a fool would I be taken for? How much more deceit did they think I could swallow?”
“I’m getting tired of these games,” I finally said. “Why share memories with me? Wait a minute. Even if you can explain this, I’ve been totally violated.”
“In this world, this is not a violation, Caitlin. We share memories, feelings with each other. It’s much like sharing files on a computer, more impersonal than personal in nature. That said, I still don’t agree with their methods. Yet the means make sense. You need to pursue Mollini. I can read this; it’s all over you. I know part of you is compelled to bring him to justice. I too, understand this all too well, you see. Our commitment… That’s why we live solitary lives.”
So she claimed to understand. Most cops live lonely lives. Big whoop! After a moment’s pause, I decided she might be able to help me get through my recent changes in a paranormal psychiatric sort of way.
“You know this ‘memory share’ had been my first waking vision. Aside from the physical trauma, I had unconsciously welcomed it, come to think of it. I mean the dream visions were nice, but not nearly as effective.” I realized I had begun stating my thoughts to her in verbal form. Did I really feel her to be a psychiatrist, or had I fallen under a witch’s charm? Or could I just be feeling a tad isolated with what being tossed into a parallel universe and all?
She laughed, probably in response to my puzzled face. “Manners told me he deems your abilities to be substantial,” she said. “He believes you will be able to help stop Mollini. Yet, don’t think he’s simply using you. He cares for you. He even respects you in a frightened child sort of way.”
“Frightened?”
“Yes. That infant blanket you draped around yourself in the van contained a warding spell. It prevented Manners from taking advantage of you, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. So he’s frightened he might harm a person who can help him? I don’t think that’s very noble of him.”
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“I put the spell on it, Caitlin. I am concerned for you as well.”
“But Manners just hightailed it out of here… lying to me that he was going to park. He’s not coming back here, is he?”
“Not now. He will be doing some reconnaissance regarding our fugitive. He’s not all that bad, Caitlin. Not the worst monster you could meet.”
“I think once he gets what he wants from me, he’ll have no problem working his psychically assisted mojo on me. I think he is a monster. A monster who would rape me all in the name of a midnight snack--and no baby blanket is going to stop him then.”
“You speak just like my Caitlin--from the hip. But no, he will not turn on you. I give you my word because I know him very well. We were once lovers.”
My eyes begged for explanation. She gave it.
“Total infatuation I had called it. Yet years later, as the sparks of our romance kindled to a low flame, I have come to realize his love for me is undying.”
“Wait a minute. Are you still with him, because the other Briana…”
“No. I’m only his friend, just like the other Briana is. Ironic, isn’t it? I eventually spurned him, being all about my career. I told him I could not possibly ever hope to marry him, yet alone give him children. FBI, I told him it should be my initials. I lived to be an agent, first and foremost.”
Sweet talk… This Briana knew I would most likely warm to a person who sounded so much like me. Then I thought about demon copulation. Ooh, yuck. The image forced me to remove one hand from my tea saucer and bring it under my chin in reflection, trying to understand how the other Briana had succumbed to his wishes. A few months ago, incubi were nothing more to me than creatures conjured from a writer’s imagination. Most were portrayed as charming and handsome, obviously inaccurate after taking in an eyeful of Manners. I also believed they desired nothing more than psychic feedings from their victims. The fact they wanted children altered that image. But when Manners sired Gabriel Pierce--his murderous incubus son--things didn’t appear to be all hunky dory. He had abandoned him to human parents, in fact. I began to question this conundrum when Briana interrupted.
