Parallelogram Omnibus Edition

by Brande, Robin

  “Dr. Venn,” I say, “you have officially blown my mind.”

  “Audie, my dear, we have only just begun.”

  30

  “Can you tell me more about the strands?” I ask. “That sounds so amazing, but I’m just not sure I get it. And what do you mean you’ve done it yourself? When? What are you talking about?”

  Dr. Venn chuckles and pats his hand in the air the way I saw him do with Red when the dog was barking hysterically at the chair. “All in time. We have so much to talk about, you and I. But I’m afraid my days of rambling through the night are long behind me. If I rest now, we can have at least a few more hours this afternoon.”

  “Oh, of course!” I try not to let him see I’m disappointed. Every minute with this man feels like a gift. I shouldn’t be greedy. “Are you warm enough, sir? Can I get you anything—maybe some hot soup or something?”

  “Yes, soup sounds nice,” he says. “I brought a sack lunch, but something hot would be very welcome.”

  I stand up and pull on Daniel’s coat. “I’ll go get you something right away.”

  “Audie?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  Dr. Venn smiles at me. “You are a very enthusiastic and intelligent pupil. I want you to know I greatly enjoy our time together.”

  “I do too, sir.” I have to cough to clear the sudden obstruction in my throat. But he has no idea how much that means to me. “Let me go get you something nice to eat. We’ll be right back. Come on, Red.”

  “The dog can stay.”

  Since Red hasn’t made a move, but is still peacefully snoring at the foot of Dr. Venn’s chair, I think the professor is right.

  It’s raining again, so I grab Wilkinson’s fancy umbrella before I head out.

  I dig into the pocket of Daniel’s coat and pull out Jake’s card. I press the center of it the way I watched Daniel do. “Jake, I’d like a sandwich, and can you also bring a container of soup for Dr. Venn? And maybe some bread or crackers? Thank you.”

  I put the card back, then button every button on Daniel’s coat and turn up the collar. I leave my hair tucked inside it. Between the coat and the birdcage-shaped umbrella that slopes wide enough to shelter my shoulders, I’m pretty well hidden from the world.

  A perfect cocoon for thinking. At a time when I’ve never had more to think about.

  Retro-causation.

  Time loops.

  Possibility waves.

  Strands.

  I’m going to need to walk for this.

  I take off at a brisk pace with no particular destination in mind. I just have to move. My body and mind feel antsy, edgy. I need to burn off some this excess energy.

  I join the stream of students and faculty striding along the wet path. No one recognizes me, no one bothers me. It’s perfect.

  So what if what Dr. Venn said is true?

  That I really had a hand in rewriting the past to match the present I needed to have?

  And that there’s a future me sending out waves to this present, waiting for some resonant wave coming from me so we can write the future together? Is that really how this works?

  If so, then what do I do now?

  I guess start with defining what it is I want.

  My first choice would be returning to my own universe and my own life and picking up where I left off. Bring with me everything I’ve learned in the past month of being me and combinations of me, but definitely go back to being Audie.

  The problem is, I don’t know if that’s realistic. I hate to even think that, but I need to deal with truth. And the truth is, if Professor Whitfield was right about his hypothesis, then Halli doesn’t have a body to go back to. That one was destroyed. This one I’m in right now was never hers, and so it won’t recognize her. It would be like a body rejecting a donor organ. It’s just not as simple as thinking Halli and I might switch bodies and go on our merry way.

  And no matter how callous Halli was about the decisions she made with my life, I’m not going to make her die for that. Of course I still have to save her. There’s no question about that.

  I have to believe she’d feel the same way if she were in my situation. She’s not cruel, she just wants to survive. But I don’t think she’d sacrifice me if she had a choice to save us both.

  And that’s the point: I can and will save us both.

  So how do I do that?

  I glance around to see if anyone is listening. Of course they’re not—I’m nobody. People are too busy rushing to get out of the rain, or talking to their friends, or thinking their own thoughts.

  But still, I feel kind of silly saying it out loud. Like a kid making a wish before blowing out the candles on her birthday cake.

  But here goes:

  “I want to save Halli and me,” I whisper. “Both of us. Step one.”

  I look around again. Still safe.

  “Step two. I want to go back to my own life. And let Halli have her own. That is what I want.”

  I try to picture some future version of me feeling that wave come toward her. Nodding. Sending a matching wave back.

  I’m so engrossed in the vision, I almost don’t stop in time.

  I’ve reached the edge of the outer courtyard. Ahead is the street where Wilkinson dropped me off this morning. And parked behind Wilkinson’s car is a matching black car.

  Jake is standing outside it talking to a familiar figure dressed all in black. Long black expensive-looking raincoat, black slacks, expensive-looking shoes that he probably hates to get wet. It makes me glad to be wearing Halli’s hiking boots.

  I consider hiding. Ducking behind a wall or a car and sneaking back the way I came.

  But I’m not her. I’m not a girl who hides. I’m part Halli, part Halli 2, and all Audie 3. This girl stands her ground.

  The driver of the second car holds an umbrella over Halli’s father’s head. Jake has to hold his own. I watch as he hands Halli’s father a familiar piece of paper.

  Thanks to all her elaborate decorations, I can tell from this distance that it’s Sarah’s invitation to the party. Halli’s father reads it, hands it back to Jake, says something. Jake nods and says something back. From the looks on both their faces, they’re having a serious conversation. I don’t like it.

  Halli’s father pats Jake on the shoulder, then his driver opens the door for him. He gets in and soon the car pulls away.

  And now I do hide. Jake has just reached into the first car to retrieve two sacks when I twist around and hurry out of sight.

  This body is built for running, so I don’t have any trouble at all taking a roundabout way back to Dr. Venn’s office and still arriving there well ahead of Jake. I even have time to slow my breathing back down to normal.

  “Hi!”

  “Hi.” Jake looks around. “No Red?”

  “Nope, he’s inside.” I smile in what I hope is a casual way. “Is that lunch? Great. Thank you.”

  I take the bags from him and set them on the bench next to me.

  “So,” I say. “What have you been doing all morning?”

  “Not much,” Jake says. “Mostly just wandering around. There are a lot really interesting buildings here.”

  “There are,” I agree.

  The silence stretches out for a few long seconds before Jake asks, “How has your morning been?”

  “Great. Thanks. Well,” I say, standing up, “I should get this soup to Dr. Venn. Thanks again.”

  “Sure. What time should I pick you up?”

  “Oh, around four should be fine. I’ll page you.”

  I stand there for a moment or two more, waiting for Jake to say something about having just talked to Halli’s father.

  Nope, nothing.

  “Okay, see you later,” I say, then head toward Dr. Venn’s door.

  “Halli?”

  I turn around. “Yeah?”

  “I got another comm from Bryan. I told him you didn’t want to do the exclusive after all. He wasn’t very happy.”

  �
�Yeah, I’ll bet. Anything else?”

  Jake shakes his head. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

  “Yep, see you.”

  Liar.

  What are you up to, Jake?

  31

  “Ahhh,” Dr. Venn says as I unpack his lunch and set it up on his desk. “Thank you, Audie.”

  The soup container is too hot and heavy for him to hold, and I almost offer to do it for him, but he’s already adjusting the height and angle of his chair so he can come right up to the edge of his desk and safely spoon in the soup himself. His hand shakes a little, but he manages it.

  “How long have you …” I gesture toward his chair, then realize a second too late that maybe that’s not a polite question to ask.

  But Dr. Venn doesn’t seem to mind. “It was gradual. Age weighs a body down. But I designed this machine myself so I can still stand when I want to.”

  “You designed this? How cool.”

  “Normally everyone looks to only the mechanical physicists to design their machines. But I know how to make things, too. I’ve always known.” He says it with a kind of rebellious pride.

  Defiant.

  He pats the arms of his chair. “You’d be surprised by how much more tolerable it makes being in my condition if I can stretch myself to standing whenever I want. I watch old people all the time crumpled in their chairs or hunched over their walkers. Fills me with pity.”

  “Then why don’t more of them have a chair like yours?” I ask.

  “One of a kind,” he says. Not with pride this time, but regret. “I designed this only a few years ago. When Dr. Edgar Venn was already out of favor.”

  It seems as good a time as any.

  “Sir, can you tell me now what happened?” I ask. “To the other Dr. Venn.”

  This one looks at me with cloudy eyes from behind his glasses. “Let me rest first, child. It’s a complicated story. And not a very happy one, as you might imagine.”

  “Sure,” I say, even though I wish he wouldn’t send me away yet. But there’s no point in exhausting the man. “I’ll take Red with me. He could probably use some fresh air.” I haven’t touched my sandwich yet, but now I tear off a corner of it to wave in front of Red’s nose. He’ll always wake up for food.

  “Madeline will be here soon,” Dr. Venn says. “Then my schnauzer friend, Lewis. Let’s talk again after that.”

  “Okay. Come on, Red.” I gather my coat, umbrella, and lunch, then Red and I head back out into the cold.

  I don’t know why, but I feel really sad all of the sudden. Maybe it’s the gray weather, maybe it’s the fact that I can’t have answers to all my questions right away—

  Or maybe it’s the fact that Dr. Venn has already let me know I won’t like the answer I’m getting from him next.

  But I have to know how the other Dr. Venn died. Even though I’m hoping I’m already out of danger. Here it is Wednesday, and I’m standing here healthy and strong in Oxford instead of sick and drugged up in a hospital in London. That has to count for something.

  Maybe the strong, healthy, alive me sent a possibility wave back from the future to show me how to be this.

  It’s such a cool and crazy thought, and I love it.

  Red is already out in the wet, muddy grass handling his business. I bundle myself up in the coat and pop open the umbrella and stroll out to join him. He seems jazzed by the weather, and has this kind of bouncing, rocking gait. Already my mood is lifting. I reach down for a stick and throw it. Red is in the process of bringing it back when he drops it and growls.

  “What are you doing with Venn?” a voice asks me.

  I whirl around. Play time is over.

  Bryan Stewart stands a few feet away from us with his binocular camera up in front of his face. I have to assume everything I say from now on will be filmed.

  So I don’t say anything.

  I remember seeing that in Halli’s memory: her grandmother giving her some great advice after Halli felt compelled to answer a reporter’s uncomfortable questions. “Not everyone needs to know what you think,” Ginny told her. “Your thoughts are your own. You never have to tell anyone a single thing about yourself, or what you think or feel, if you don’t want to—even if they ask.”

  It goes against my good girl, polite upbringing, but that upbringing belongs to Audie 1. From what I’ve seen so far, I’m guessing I didn’t bring much of the polite girl strand with me.

  “We had a deal,” Bryan says.

  I pick up another stick and throw it to Red. “Turn off the camera,” I say with my back to Bryan. “That’s the new deal.”

  “My producer isn’t very happy with me right now,” Bryan says.

  “And I wasn’t very happy to come out of my friends’ house this morning and find a horde of reporters there.”

  “Wasn’t me,” Bryan says.

  “You might say it soured me on all of you. Come on, Red.” The dog brings the stick with him and lopes along to my side. Bryan hasn’t moved yet. And he still has the camera aimed at my face. Red growls as we get closer. “Good boy,” I tell him and reach down to give him a pat.

  “Why Venn?” Bryan asks again. “Are you aware of his history?”

  “I don’t know. Shut that off and you can tell me.”

  “Has he told you what happened to Dr. Sands?”

  Dr. Sands? That’s a new name. “Yes,” I lie.

  “So you know he died in that very office where you’ve spent the past day and a half?”

  “Bryan, what do you want? And shut that thing off or I’m going back inside and these are the last words you’ll ever hear from me. You can count on it.”

  Bryan sighs, but at least he lets the camera drop to his side. It might still be recording sound, though, so I have to be careful.

  “I want what you promised me,” he says. “An exclusive. We’ll even keep it to the one hour. And I would deeply appreciate it, Miss Markham, if I could interview you tonight so my producer will let me leave this wet, freezing, miserable place so I can go back home where the high was seventy today and I hear there was actual sunshine.”

  At least that sounds close to an honest answer. And I have to say that’s an honestly gloomy look on his face.

  I think about it for a few seconds. “It’s about Ginny and me only,” I say. “No questions about Dr. Venn—none of any kind. Do you understand?” The least I can do is protect him. I have no idea who this Dr. Sands is that Bryan is talking about, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be surprised while Bryan is filming me. I’m grateful he brought up it now so I can lay down some ground rules.

  Although I wouldn’t mind finding out what Bryan knows. It could save me some trouble.

  “So what do you think happened to Dr. Sands?” I ask.

  “Went in healthy, came out dead. So you tell me.”

  32

  “Almost done,” Madeline says cheerfully. She’s kneading the pad of one of Dr. Venn’s thumb. The professor has his eyes closed and his expression alternates between pain and relief.

  “Thank you for bringing him a hot lunch,” she says. Dr. Venn doesn’t have his earphones on, so he can’t hear us. “Some days he forgets to eat at all. I appreciate you looking out for him, Halli.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I’m not sure if it’s the wrong thing, but lately I’m never sure. I decide to just go for it. “Someone just said something about a Dr. Sands.”

  Madeline isn’t so cheerful anymore. “Dreadful business. Please don’t ask my grandfather about that.”

  “Okay, but … can you tell me anything? This person said he came in here healthy and left dead.”

  Madeline scoffs. “Is that what they say now? I suppose it’s best to know. It’s easier to fight a lie when it’s out in the open. No, Professor Sands wasn’t a healthy man. He had a heart attack. There was an inquiry by the medical branch and by the legal authorities. My grandfather was unequivocally cleared. And the whole incident left him a fairly broken man. It’s his health
that was destroyed. Along with a distinguished, noble career.”

  “But why was his career destroyed if it was just a heart attack?”

  “Because of the suspicions before he was cleared. Some members of the faculty and the scientific community couldn’t accept the result. They made my grandfather’s life very difficult. It was an awful time for our family.”

  “So … were the two of them just talking, and then suddenly Dr. Sands had a heart attack? Or what?”

  “ALL DONE, GRANDDAD,” Madeline shouts as she pats his hand. Dr. Venn smiles and tells her thank you. Madeline turns so that only I can see her face. “Please don’t stir this up, Halli. It’s a very sad, bitter memory for my grandfather. It was a long time ago, and I’m sorry anyone felt it necessary to bring it to your attention.”

  She turns and waves to Dr. Venn. “SEE YOU TONIGHT. STAY WARM. WAIT FOR ME SO I CAN WALK YOU BACK. IT’S RAINING.”

  Dr. Venn nods. Madeline gives my arm a squeeze and then she leaves us.

  Red takes Madeline’s vacated spot beside Dr. Venn’s chair and settles in for a nap.

  The door opens again and Madeline sticks her head in. “Hand me a few biscuits, will you? Lewis is here. I expect you don’t want to invite him in?”

  “No. Thanks.” I fish out a few dog treats from the container on Dr. Venn’s desk and hand them to his granddaughter. She smiles at Dr. Venn, then closes the door.

  Dr. Venn reaches for his earphones. I help him fit them over his head. Then he says, “You asked her about Sands.”

  I pick up the microphone. “How did you know?”

  “I could hear some of what she said.”

  I should have realized that with her raised voice and how close she was standing next to him, he might pick out a few words.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Someone asked me about him just now, and so I thought … but I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Why not?” Dr. Venn says. “I would have told you anyway. It’s part of the story.” He gestures for me to sit down. I take a moment to remove my wet coat, then try to get comfortable. Even though I’m too anxious now to be very relaxed.