In Strange Worlds

by Brenda Cheers

  You see, there is another theory that neither Luke nor I have considered, nor do I even know how it came to be in my mind. It's rather out there as far as theories go:

  A PARALLEL UNIVERSE.

  Do you know how much I'd give for internet connection right now to look it up? There are some things I already know — I'd spent time looking up the subject after reading a novel by a Japanese writer where the protagonist finds herself in a world running parallel to her own.

  It wasn't a new concept. Several noted physicists had supported the idea with differing theories of how it would all work.

  One of the more prominent scientists suggested that each time there is more than one possible outcome for an action, the universe splits so that all outcomes happen, but each in a different universe. The one nearest to you could be as close as one millimetre away.

  So imagine, for instance, that something truly bad was happening to someone and it looked like the outcome might be too awful for their mind to bear, it might propel them into the parallel universe where the outcome is better.

  Let's apply this theory to my own situation. I was in hospital in labour. The father of this child — the photographer called Craig —was noticeably absent. I had eaten a fair-sized dinner not long before my waters broke. My specialist, who couldn't be found, had already booked me in for a caesarean on the following Friday and this was Wednesday. He had told me I should not attempt a natural birth.

  The resident doctor decided to allow the labour to proceed, because it was already so advanced. He said he needed to be elsewhere but would return shortly. Everything was calm to begin with but then people were shouting and pushing buzzers. Machines were hurtling into the room. The resident came back and I could see the horror on his face. A needle was being pushed into the back of my hand and the last words I heard before losing consciousness were, "Quickly, before we lose both of them..."

  What if this caused me to leap into another dimension?

  I really have to run this by Luke. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me waking him.”

  Meg crept into Luke and Connie's room and shook Luke lightly. There wasn't any response so the shaking got rougher. "Luke...Luke..."

  He opened one eye.

  "I've got to talk to you. Come into the lounge."

  "Whaat?"

  "C'mon, it's important."

  "What time is it?"

  "Don't worry about that. Hey, I'll make you a hot chocolate. C'mon."

  He groaned and rolled out of bed. Meg went to heat the milk up. Luke came out scratching his head.

  "What's this all about?"

  "We missed one idea."

  "Huh? About what?"

  "You know ... theories. We had natural disaster, biological warfare, aliens, and zombies. Now I've got another one."

  "You woke me for this?"

  "Yeah, but it's important. Hear me out. Parallel universe." She said it proudly.

  Luke stared for a moment and then turned to go back into the bedroom.

  "No, Luke. Stay please. Come and listen."

  "Nah, this is stupid. I'm cold. Tell me tomorrow."

  "Jeez, stop whining. My operation is tomorrow. Just give me five minutes, will you?"

  He sat down heavily, and listened while she told him everything she knew on the subject.

  "I don't get it. You get shunted into this alternate world. What about us — Connie and me. How did we get here, or were we already in this world?"

  "I don't know. I'm guessing you were already here."

  He looked doubtful.

  "Hey, they made a movie about it once. I don't remember the name of it — I just remember a guy in a bunny suit and something about a jet engine falling on a house."

  Luke stood. "No offence, Meg, but I've heard enough. Good night."

  He didn't even wait for hot chocolate.

  Thwock, thwock, thwock. Meg had been watering the vegetables at her own house, waiting impatiently for the helicopter to return so the operation could be performed, and now the aircraft was approaching. Once this sound had caused terror in her but now it seemed to be her only chance for survival. She turned the hose off and watched the helicopter approaching the other house, swinging from side to side like always.

  She began the drive, trying to avoid any potholes or corrugations that caused discomfort to her over-stretched body. The helicopter was to her right, steadying for its descent. Then something went wrong and it began turning — the whole fuselage was spinning, and it got faster and then faster again. Meg saw it keel over to one side, but then the trees blocked her view.

  She accelerated until she could see the helicopter again. It was still moving but was clearly in trouble. It hit the ground and a rotor blade was flung into the air. The cabin was breaking up. There was an explosion.

  Meg drove to the other house, sounding the horn as she drove up the driveway. Luke was already outside, looking in the direction of the crash.

  "Jump in. We'll go and see if we can help."

  Another explosion rent the air. Meg drove quickly, arriving within minutes.

  Parts of the helicopter were strewn over a large area. There were fires. Meg pulled over and Luke ran toward the wreckage. She grabbed the first-aid kit and followed him as quickly as she could.

  As she reached his side, Luke shook his head. "No one could live through this."

  The fire in the cabin was burning with the heat of a furnace. Meg and Luke stood and watched helplessly until the flames died down and they could see the charred remains of three figures that were strapped in the smoking seats. Three. One would have been Bill or Ben, piloting the craft. Of the other two, one might or might not have been the other of Bill or Ben. There would have been either one or two other people being transferred to the hospital.

  The full horror of what this meant hit Meg.

  "Luke — who's going to perform the operation now?" As she watched the blood drain from his face she knew that any hope of a trouble-free birth had just gone up in flames.

  Connie's eyes were huge.

  "So what are you going to do now?"

  "Dunno, Connie. How are you with a scalpel?" She shuddered, and Meg turned to Luke.

  "How about you? Do you have a steady hand?" He backed away, waving hands in a blocking gesture.

  "Derek would have been able to help, somehow. But then there's the anaesthetic as well. Someone has to administer that."

  They all fell silent.

  "Do you know what really pisses me off? The other or others in the chopper. We almost got to meet them — might have solved a part of the mystery."

  "They'd probably have stayed out of sight, though."

  "Possibly, Luke — but let me tell you something, I would have found a way to see them!"

  He smiled and nodded.

  "Okay — so we have to think calmly and rationally. I have to have these babies before my condition worsens. Bill and Ben knew that from the tests they were performing, which was why they were going to operate today."

  "I sorta don't understand what might happen if you try to have them naturally. You've never really explained..."

  "There are two main problems. I've had three caesareans, and it's considered a risk to have a natural birth after them. Risk of rupture — that sort of thing. Then I'm prone to pre-eclampsia. I've had it for all three pregnancies and it's really unpredictable. If it turns into full-blown eclampsia, well, that's just catastrophic to me as well as the babies. Organ damage, seizures, death."

  "Oh, I see."

  Meg bit her lip and thought. No ideas came to mind. She was starving — had been fasting since midnight. "No chance of a sandwich huh, Connie?" The younger woman moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Her voice came from its depths.

  "Induce the births?"

  Meg sat straighter. Yes, that might be a chance.

  "Any idea how, Connie?"

  "No, but I read about it once in those books you got on giving birth."

  Meg went to the bookshelf an
d ran her hand along the titles. "Here we go." She checked the index and found the page. Connie brought her food, but she ate unconsciously, totally absorbed in the contents of the text book. From time to time she would move position in an attempt to ease the weight of the unborn children.

  "Luke — come with me, please? We need to find some hormone gel."

  Connie came out from the kitchen. "How does it work?"

  "Hopefully it works really well. I haven't got time for explanation, sorry. Later. Let's go." She threw the keys to Luke. "You drive."

  The birthing unit of Nambour General Hospital sat to one side of the main building and to Meg it seemed as insurmountable as Mt Everest.

  "We might just sit for a few minutes — sorry. I've gone all weak and floppy. Must've been rushing to the crash this morning."

  Luke pushed his seat back and closed his eyes. "No probs. Just nudge me."

  Silence fell in the car.

  "The guys were really bad chopper pilots weren't they?"

  Luke pulled his cap over his eyes. "Hmm."

  "They were always flying as though they couldn't gain proper control. I guess it might have been to do with their total lack of co-ordination."

  "Could be."

  "Do you still think the other one or two in the cabin could have been aliens?"

  "Yup."

  "We got so close..."

  "Yup."

  "Hey Luke, I don't reckon I can go in. I've just sorta fallen in a heap."

  He pushed his cap back.

  "Ah, okay. What are we looking for?"

  Meg looked at the paper. "It's Dinoprostone gel — a prostaglandin. There are a few different brands so it might be hard to track down. Here, take the paper."

  He looked at it and mouthed the syllables.

  "Look at the use by dates too. If they've all expired, take the most recent. Bring a few different ones."

  "Can you use anything else— other than this?"

  "Just Misoprostol which is another prostaglandin. That's in tablet form. I think the gel might be more effective.

  "Ah, okay."

  "You know what Luke — I'm just flying by the seat of my pants. I don't know what I'm doing. This could go really bad."

  "Or good."

  Meg laughed. "True. I'm a bit scared though."

  In a rare show of affection, Luke leaned over and hugged her. It brought tears to her eyes.

  Luke jumped out of the car and ran into the Birthing Centre.

  Meg was startled awake by the sound of the car door opening. From the lengthening shadows, she could tell Luke had been gone for considerable time.

  He passed a large bag to her. Inside were around ten boxes of various shapes and sizes. He leaned over and removed a flat, rectangular package. "This one's the best."

  She unfolded the instructions and began reading them. They were the same as what she'd read in the books. Luke started the car.

  "Wait a sec. I need apply this right now. I'll do it in the back seat. Look away."

  It was awkward — the application — and messy. Meg asked Luke to get tissues from the glove box and pass them over.

  "Okay, I have to lie still for at least thirty minutes, which is how long it'll take us to drive home anyway. I'll stay in the back here — avoid potholes and speed bumps, please."

  "I slept a lot today. I've got no hope of falling asleep quickly. The house is quiet.

  I've left my curtains open and can see the hospital waiting there for me. A hospital with no doctors or other medical staff. I took a look around there before bedtime — went from tiny room to room, looking at instruments in sterile packages that were lined up in rows.

  I think I want the birth to happen in this bed, my favourite one. Three and a half years ago I loaded this ensemble into the back of a removal van and brought it here. Connie didn't touch this room after I moved to my new place — it's still completely mine. So I won't go over to the hospital. Whatever happens will happen here where I'm most comfortable.

  I'm not feeling wonderful. These babies can't come quickly enough.”

  The contractions began at four in the morning. Initially, Meg didn't feel the need to wake Connie; she thought there was no rush. Within fifteen minutes, however, the pains came faster and faster.

  "Connie! Connie!"

  The younger woman came in to find Meg writhing in pain. "There, there. This is good. Just what we wanted. Hold my hand."

  The contraction eased and Connie put a cool hand washer to Meg's forehead.

  "I've been knitting for your babies, you know."

  Meg was panting, her eyes half closed.

  "What colour?"

  "Some pink, some blue."

  "A boy and a girl?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "Why?"

  "Well, it's complicated, but you see — I think there's a plan for us to start repopulating the world as quickly as possible. That's why there are all these twins. We need a male to impregnate our girls and we also need a female for Thomas to mate with. That way we get the most from this tiny gene pool."

  Even through her pain and growing weakness, Meg was surprised. This was a high level of thought for the young woman.

  "Connie...the book...on the table there."

  "This notebook?"

  "Yeah, see the first page — about the births?"

  Connie's eyes grew wide as they skimmed across the words.

  "Oh, no Meg! No!"

  "Yes, absolutely. That's what I want. Save the babies in any way you can."

  "Silly, Meg. It won't come to that. Soon you'll give birth and everything will be fine."

  Another huge contraction. Meg felt something shifting in her brain.

  "C'mon Meg. I've been through this. I know what it's like — what works. Breathe through the pain..."

  Another lull.

  "The end of the story..."

  "What's that Meg? Speak up."

  "If I wrote this story, the story of us here, of all that had happened — the end..." She was whispering.

  Connie leaned closer to hear. "Yes, Meg? What about the end?"

  "The last scene would be all of us sitting at the big table on the front veranda. The one we've never used much. We'd be sitting there having a cool drink on a hot afternoon. All icy..."

  "The drinks are all icy. Okay. What next?"

  "We'd hear voices. Loud, happy voices. We'd look at each other in wonderment and stand to see where they were coming from."

  "And?"

  Meg was hallucinating, whispering softly. "They would come walking up the driveway — a whole lot of them and Derek would be leading them — lovely Derek, and there would be around six other adults and an assortment of children, all twins. The future of the human race would be walking up our driveway, led by Derek... and he would look at me with love in his eyes..."

  Meg saw a flash of light but it came from inside her own head and then there was a bolt of pain that shot through her brain. Connie was screaming out for Luke as Meg's world went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Meg wakes slowly, trying to focus her eyes. She coughs; her throat feels terrible. It is raw and sore, and her whole body feels like she's been hit by a truck.

  There are shapes by the bed, and as they become clearer she can make out a strange sight. It is Richard —her ex-husband — and he is holding a wrapped bundle. It looks like a baby, but how could it be? He’s smiling — Richard is — and his whole face wears an expression of pride and concern. His eyes shine with the sort of love she has never seen in them before.

  "Hello, my brave darling girl. Don't try to talk, will you?"

  Meg shakes her head.

  A nurse sails in — the old type with a big bust and bossy attitude. "Ah, that's a sight for sore eyes, that is. She's awake. Don't try to talk, dear. I'm going to find Doctor."

  Meg points to her throat and raises her brows. "Oh, they had to insert a tube into your airway. It was done in a hurry — they might have done a bit of damage."r />
  She wants to ask hundreds of questions. Why is she here? More to the point, why is he here?

  "I nearly lost both of you. It was touch and go. They got this little one out first and then concentrated on saving you. I knew you'd want it that way."

  Oh you did, did you?

  "You were in a really bad way. They felt the best option was to induce a coma. The problem was they couldn't bring you back. Scary times."

  Whoa.

  "You were like that for days. Then you began to come around this morning. They called me and I got here as quickly as I could."

  And where are Nicholas and Emily?

  "I was really scared you know. I thought it was all over." His eyes are welling. Richard crying? Weird.

  "But we're all here safe and sound now. You and I, and our firstborn — a boy."

  Firstborn?

  "It looks like he'll be an only child. Lots of damage to you, poor darling. The doctor will tell you about that later."

  As if on cue, the nurse sails back in alongside a young doctor.

  "Ah, excellent. Sleeping beauty has awoken. I'm not your usual attending — Doctor Forbes isn't here right now — but we'll let him know you're back with us. He'll drop in soon."

  He feels her pulse and gazes at various machines. Then he scribbles on her chart for several minutes.

  "Your blood pressure has normalised which is great news. We're going to start reducing some of the drug dosages and monitor the results. We'll also get an ENT man to come and look at your throat. Damage under these circumstances is common."

  He keeps scratching at the chart. "Now, Richard. Have you filled Meg in on what happened?"

  "Haven't really had time yet. Just basics."

  "Okay, well Doctor Forbes will want to tell her the details anyway."

  "What about brain activity?"

  "Absolutely. We'll run another test. She looks good, though." He raises his eyes to hers. "Richard is asking about brain activity because, while you were in the coma, you scared us a bit. There wasn't much going on. We'll run another test now you're awake.”

  Meg is trying to absorb all of this.

  "Don't be alarmed. It was probably just a glitch. I reckon we'll soon have you unhooked from all the machines and you'll go home with your new baby."