Constance Verity Saves the World

by A. Lee Martinez

  “Fair enough.” Tia smiled to herself.

  “What?” asked Connie.

  “It’s just funny. I’m not used to thinking of you as boring.”

  “I’ve made love in the Amazon jungle,” said Connie. “On the moons of alien worlds. In palaces of gold and aboard pirate galleons. I don’t think my sex life could be described as boring.”

  “That explains it, then. You’ve never had to spice things up before. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Byron is your longest relationship.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And so far, you’ve only had sex in bedrooms and ordinary places like that?”

  “I’ve studied the secrets of the pleasure priests of Aphros. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m not talking about technique. I’m sure your technique is as flawless as everything you do. But it never hurts to expand your repertoire.”

  “The pleasure priests believe the best sex eschews props, relying on the infinite pleasures available through pure physical contact,” said Connie.

  “Sound like a fun bunch. Far be it from me to disagree with esteemed masters of sex, but I’m just suggesting that if you come to the bedroom wearing a naughty explorer’s outfit, you probably won’t hear any complaints from Byron.”

  “They make naughty explorer costumes?”

  “They do not,” said Tia, “but fortunately, you have a sidekick who knows the right places to shop to throw one together.” She left the room, returning with a shopping bag. “The pith helmet was the trickiest part.”

  Connie glanced in the bag. “The bullwhip is a bit much.”

  “Didn’t feel complete without it.”

  Connie said, “And this isn’t demeaning?”

  “It’s fun, Connie. You know, fun, right? It’ll be a nice surprise. And didn’t you spend three days dressed as a half-naked harem girl, as I recall?”

  “I was undercover. It’s not the same thing. And I don’t hear you suggesting that Byron dress up in a costume.”

  “Funny you should mention it.” Tia stepped out and returned with another bag. She handed it to Connie. “Don’t look in it. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

  “Since when did you get interested in my sex life?”

  “I’m just doing my job as a friend and a sidekick. I want this trip to go well. Don’t make it creepy.”

  “Yes, I’m the one who is making it creepy.”

  Connie thought about the pleasure priests of Aphros. Their secrets of sexual bliss were renowned throughout the universe. So much so that visitors agreed to be executed after a single night with a priest in order to keep the secrets of the order. But there was probably a place between boring and execution sex, and Tia might be onto something. Connie tossed the bags into her suitcase.

  “There. Happy?”

  “Delighted. You can thank me later.”

  Connie’s cell buzzed in her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number. If the world was trying to drag her into another adventure, she wasn’t interested. She denied the call.

  “How’s Hiro doing?” asked Connie. “He’s not still mad at me, I hope.”

  “Oh, he’s gone past mad to bored now. Mostly. He’s actually more mad at me than you. It was my idea that he tag along in the first place. Get this. He accused me of wanting it to happen. Not you breaking his arm and leg, but just something like it to get him to stay home more. Like I want him around more. The bloom’s off that rose.”

  “Trouble between you two?”

  “No. He’s just getting stir-crazy, and I’m having to listen to him complain about it. And I can’t tell him to get over it, because he is right. It is because of me.”

  “Or us,” said Connie.

  “Oh, you’re not to blame. You were mesmerized.”

  Connie didn’t disagree aloud, but she imagined what she might have done with her impossible martial arts skills, unchecked by her better judgment. Hiro was lucky to walk away with only a few broken bones, but she was luckier. She didn’t need to live with those regrets.

  Her cell buzzed again. This was so much easier before cell phones. Ringing phone booths could be walked away from. Pagers could be ignored. But this thing, carried in her pocket, was a direct line from destiny that hated to be ignored.

  And yet, if she hadn’t answered a misplaced call once, the entire Eastern Seaboard would be an irradiated zombie-plagued wasteland.

  But not today. The world could save itself. She was entitled to some me time.

  The phone dinged as it received a text.

  “Maybe you should leave that home this weekend,” said Tia.

  Connie, despite herself, glanced at the text.

  We need to talk-Bonita

  “Anybody you know?” asked Tia.

  “Nobody important.” Connie silenced the phone and tossed it on the bed. “Do you want to grab some lunch?”

  The cell jumped into the air, spinning like a top. An electrical crackle filled the air. The phone exploded in a shower of sparks as Bonita Alvarado materialized in insectoid form. Her arrival was off by a few feet, and Bonita fell onto the bed. Her feet slipped with the blanket, and she tumbled to the floor with a sharp chirp.

  “I’m not interested, Bonita,” said Connie.

  “Friend of yours?” asked Tia.

  “I wouldn’t say friend. Bonita was our old schoolteacher who was really part of a grand conspiracy to manipulate my life. She’s also a shapeshifting alien from an ancient progenitor race.”

  “I thought she looked familiar.”

  From the other side of the bed, a long, thin exoskeletal arm reached up, and Bonita pulled herself to her feet. Her large black eyes blinked as she hacked and retched. “Goddamn digital teleport. You’d think someone would have perfected the technology by now.”

  “You owe me a new phone,” said Connie.

  Bonita straightened and dusted herself off. Her antennae twitched. She transformed into a shorter, Latina woman.

  “Mrs. Alvarado?” asked Tia.

  “Hello, Tia. Good to see you again. I hope I didn’t freak you out.”

  Tia said, “I’ve seen weirder things.”

  “You must hear me out, Connie,” said Bonita.

  “I’m taking the weekend off. Look me up Monday,” said Connie.

  “No, I’m not here to ask for your help. Or your forgiveness. I’m here to help you.” She squeaked shrilly. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water? Getting beamed across the galaxy through primitive receptive devices has left my throat dry.”

  Bonita drank three tall glasses of water, one right after the other, and wiped her mouth. After, they adjourned to the living room to talk.

  “You can beam out of here.” Connie took Bonita by the arm. “Or I’ll beam you out of here myself.”

  In a blink, Bonita transformed into a nine-foot-tall giant vaguely humanoid beetle. She lifted her arm, and Connie, still holding onto it, was hoisted off the floor.

  “I’ll leave after you listen to me.” Bonita’s voice remained the same.

  Connie gazed into Bonita’s dozen eyes. It was hard to gauge sincerity in the shiny green disks, but if Bonita was going to be difficult about this, it would probably just be easier to hear her out.

  The wall burst as Luke and Vance’s boxy security robot smashed its way into the condo. It tromped forward, beeping, its buzz saw spinning. Luke and Vance, in battlesuits, came rushing in behind it.

  “Don’t worry, Connie! We’ve got your back!” shouted Luke.

  They leveled their blasters at Bonita. “Drop the human!” said Vance.

  Connie let go of Bonita’s arm and held up her hands. “Guys, what the hell are you doing?”

  “We detected an intergalactic matter transmission from across the hall, and we’re here to rescue you.”

  “Aw, that’s kind of sweet of them,” said Tia.

  “Guys, you can’t come busting in every time something weird happens,” said Connie.

  “You don’t need us to rescue you?” asked Luke.<
br />
  “What I need is for you to stop smashing my wall the second you get jumpy. There’s a door right there.”

  The security robot’s saw arm slowed to an awkward halt, and it clicked its pincer arms with a fair bit of shame.

  “We’ll pay for the damage,” said Vance.

  Bonita changed back into her human form and waved a device over the hole. The pieces of wall reformed. “Temporal recursivator. Great for all those little messes around the house.”

  Luke, Vance, and their security robot left through the door this time.

  “You’ve got five minutes,” said Connie to Bonita.

  Bonita said, “It’s about the caretaker spell you host. We’ve been monitoring it, and we’ve come across some troubling readings.”

  “Who has been monitoring it?” asked Connie.

  “I’d rather not get into that just yet. It’s not important. I can only promise you that our motives are not nefarious. After you destroyed the Engine and ensured free will remains in the universe—”

  “We,” said Tia.

  “What?”

  “After we destroyed the Engine.” Tia pointed to herself and Connie. “We were both there.”

  “Yes, I’m sure your contribution was very important,” Bonita said in an offhand manner. “That’s not relevant. We’re talking about forces beyond your—”

  “I pushed the self-destruct button,” said Tia.

  “Good for you,” said Bonita flatly.

  “I’m just saying that was kind of a big thing.”

  “Do you mind? I’m here to explain aspects of reality your species has yet to even detect. I’d like to stick to the subject.”

  “Sorry. Go on.”

  “The thing I need you to understand about the spell or destiny or whatever else someone wants to call it that influences your life is that it isn’t really any of those things. Those are just labels we use for convenience. No one knows how the thing works, what it wants, who made it, and for what purpose. Or if it was even made at all. Perhaps it’s simply something that exists. The only thing we know for certain is that it empowers those who host it, placing them at the center of important events. How the host deals with those events is up to them. Not every host has been as benevolent as our Constance here.

  “That was a long time ago. Almost before the records of my own race. But there are whispers of a terrible savage age before the caretaker role was finally properly harnessed for the greater good of the universe.”

  “Greater good by whose definition?” asked Connie.

  “Whether you approve or not, the system worked. Hundreds of interlocking conspiracies, appearing and disappearing throughout the eons, each of them convinced they control the fate of the most important person in the universe. A delicate system of checks and balances, but one in the end that makes sure that whoever that person is, they aren’t a megalomaniacal fiend.”

  “You flatter me.”

  “Imagine it, Connie. Imagine someone like you, but not you. Someone who finds themselves steadily nudging the line between triumph and tragedy as they wish. Imagine if that person didn’t care. Worse, imagine if they sought to use that power for their own gain.”

  “And how would they do that?” asked Tia. “How does being the person who saves the day allow someone to be evil?”

  “That’s just it. We call it the caretaker role, but it’s more versatile than that. Life is a complex equation, beyond anyone’s ability to understand, but one thing that can make all the difference is a little luck at just the right moment. That’s what the caretaker destiny does. It gives its bearer that slight advantage. It gives them the power to save or destroy.

  “Picture yourself, Connie. Now picture yourself devoted to enslaving the universe. With everything you’ve done, can you say it’s impossible?”

  “An evil version of myself did conquer the Earth on the other side of the sun,” said Connie.

  “Evil Connie,” agreed Tia. “That is a scary thought.”

  Automatica, robot bride of Doctor Malady, smashed her way through the wall.

  “Have no fear, Constance,” said Doctor Malady. “We have detected the unauthorized matter transmission and are here to help.”

  Connie put her face in her hands. “There’s a goddamn door.”

  Explanations were offered to Doctor Malady and his robot bride. Bonita fixed the wall again, though she warned that using the recursivator too often might lead to minor disruptions to the space-time continuum. Nothing earth-shattering, but a small thing like Connie suddenly retroactively owning a cat or a different color paint in the condo.

  “We’ve always assumed the caretaker destiny was indestructible, but we think something’s gone wrong with it,” said Bonita. “We don’t know if it’s because you are the first person to ever have the spell removed and then reclaim part of it. We don’t know if it has to do with the part of it that was lost when you destroyed the Engine. It might just be natural wear and tear. But for whatever reason, it’s unraveling, falling apart.”

  “Connie’s going to become normal again?” asked Tia.

  “She might, if she doesn’t die in the process,” said Bonita. “The function of the caretaker mantle is the manipulation of probability itself. It’s why Connie finds herself in such unlikely situations. It’s also what gives her that extra bit of luck when she needs it.”

  Connie said, “Hold on. I’m not just lucky. I’m good at what I do.”

  “Yes, you are, but with so many close calls and improbable escapes, you must have suspected that there were forces granting you an advantage when you most needed it. It’s not all luck, but you must admit that throughout your adventures, fortune kept you alive with fair reliability.”

  Connie had never been fond of the idea of luck. Taken to its extreme, it made every action irrelevant.

  “This isn’t about your ego,” said Bonita. “The caretaker destiny is part of who you are, has been even before it manifested on your seventh birthday. You’ve come to expect a certain amount of probabilistic fudging in your favor. You probably don’t even think about it.”

  Connie grunted her displeasure at the idea, not quite able to disagree.

  “She’s right,” said Tia. “You take risks that would scare the piss out of ordinary people, and they usually pay off for you.”

  Connie folded her arms, pursed her lips, and grunted again.

  “Connie, three days ago I watched you jump into a raging ocean full of sea monsters with nothing but a magic flute.”

  “I’m an excellent swimmer, and I can hold my breath for six minutes. So, it wasn’t as dangerous as it looked.”

  Tia said, “You have the skills to reduce the risks, but they’re still there. But you didn’t hesitate. You just did it.”

  “The mantle doesn’t guarantee success,” said Bonita. “But it does mitigate the chances of failure. Its influence is forever part of how you operate, and that’s how it’s meant to be. But now it’s dwindling. Fortune will be more fickle than before. Worse, we suspect that it might have a negative effect on your luck. Probability abhors a vacuum.”

  “Oh my god.” Tia snapped her fingers. “That explains it!”

  Connie snorted. “There’s nothing to explain.”

  “Have there been signs?” asked Bonita, leaning forward.

  “No,” said Connie.

  “Yes,” said Tia. “She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

  Bonita paced the room and thought aloud. “Ideally, we’d simply extract the spell, but in its damaged state, any attempt could prove disastrous. We could end up destroying the spell itself, which could have incalculable ramifications on the universe.”

  Connie stood. “And who says I’d let you, anyway?”

  “Wasn’t it just a year ago you couldn’t wait to be rid of it?” asked Bonita.

  “Things change.”

  “We are not your enemy, Connie. We’re not going to take it from you without permission.”

  “And that’s why
you won’t tell me who we are.”

  “That’s irrelevant. Can I borrow your phone?”

  “You destroyed my phone,” said Connie.

  “Yours, then?” Bonita asked of Tia. “I promise it won’t be damaged. It’s only the arrival that tends to break the system.”

  Tia tossed Bonita her cell. “I need an upgrade, anyway.”

  “We can fix this, Connie,” said Bonita. “We’ll need some more time to figure it out. Until then, my advice is to avoid adventure. If you play it safe, you should be okay. Ignore the caretaker destiny, and it will likely return the favor. Push your luck, and things will go wrong, sooner rather than later.”

  “You don’t have to worry,” said Connie. “I’m taking the weekend off.”

  Bonita attached an oblong doodad to Tia’s phone. It vibrated loud enough to be heard throughout the room. She started dialing. The area code for the other side of the galaxy was shorter than one might expect but still fairly long. “We will fix things, Connie. If you want to carry the destiny all the way to the end, we won’t stand in your way. But those instincts that have served you so well, you have to ignore them for the time being. For your sake, and perhaps the universe itself.”

  She pressed SEND and disappeared in a crackle of electricity. The phone fell to the floor. Tia picked it up. She couldn’t detach the alien doodad.

  “What a load of bullshit,” said Connie with a derisive chuckle. “The universe is out to get me? Can you believe that crap?”

  “What?” Tia pivoted at various angles, checking to see if the doodad on her phone ruined the line of her pants. “How many warnings do you need?”

  Connie opened her mouth, but Tia cut her off.

  “And, yes, I know. There’s always danger. But maybe things really are different now. Maybe just this once, a bit of caution isn’t out of order. Remember how you said you run toward danger? This time, try not doing that. Just for a few days.”

  Connie tried placating Tia with a curt nod, but Tia wasn’t fooled.

  “Goddamn it, Connie. You don’t have to be so goddamn stubborn all the time.”

  Connie sneered, not at Tia but at the universe. “If I’m afraid, I can’t live my life.”