“What do you need right now?” he asks me.
“Food,” I say. “Something hot. Lots of it.”
Somewhere during all that fumbling with coats, he already pulled out Jake’s card. He presses it in the center and orders soup, sandwiches, and tea.
My mind feels very mushy. I wish it would solidify again so I could act normally and Daniel won’t have to keep looking so freaked out.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I’ll explain it all in a minute. I just need some food first.”
He pulls up the other chair close to mine, and sits there massaging my hands the way we’ve both watched Madeline doing for Dr. Venn. It’s a weird solution to what’s obviously going on much higher, up in my brain, but I have to admit it feels very soothing, and it’s also helping to keep me awake. If not for the constant sensation, it would be really easy to fall asleep.
After a while there’s a knock on the door and Daniel jumps up to get it. Red growls as soon as he gets a whiff of Jake, and it gives Daniel a great excuse for slipping out and closing the door behind him. I’m glad Jake can’t see me like this. I don’t want to have to answer any extra questions.
My hand shakes as I reach for a sandwich, but I don’t care because I know this is what I need. I have no idea why traveling with my mind would make my body so ravenously hungry. It’s one of the questions I want to ask Dr. Venn. Along with about a hundred other ones. As soon as I’m strong enough to go.
Daniel opens the soup container and helps me eat some of it so I don’t just spill it all. After about five minutes of steady eating and drinking, I’m starting to feel more normal—at least normal enough to talk. Poor Daniel has waited long enough.
“I met Ginny.”
The look of shock on Daniel’s face actually makes me laugh. I would have been disappointed with anything less.
And thanks to that laugh, I now find I can smile. I didn’t realize how frozen my face must have seemed the whole time I’ve been sitting here. I must have looked like a statue.
“I saw Halli die in India, and Ginny’s the one who lived.”
“And you spoke to her?”
“For about the last hour, I think.”
Daniel takes that in. Then rather than asking me more about Ginny, he asks about me. “Why are you so affected this time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I went further? What did the monitors show?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Daniel says. “The same sort of readings as last time.”
I pause to eat some more sandwich and spoon in more of the soup.
“How are you feeling now?” Daniel asks.
“Much better. Thank you.” I reach for his hand.
“Warmer, too,” he says. “Good. Audie, I don’t think you should do it again.”
“No, I won’t today. I want to go see Dr. Venn—”
“I mean ever.”
“Ever?”
“There’s too much risk,” Daniel says. “It’s not worth it.”
“But I have to try again,” I say. “I went back to the wrong place. I still have to find Halli in the Alps.”
“Why? She has a life now, you have a life—why risk losing what you have?”
Before I can argue with him, he adds, “Look at you. You’re not well. You were as white as a corpse when I found you. People have died in that machine—you know it. Please. I don’t want to lose you.”
I lay my hand gently on his cheek and give him a tender kiss. He deserves it. I love him. He’s the best boyfriend I could ever imagine having.
And I’m going to have to tell him no.
“Let’s go talk to Dr. Venn,” I say. “We’ll describe what happened. He’ll know what to do.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Daniel says. “Or he’s too ill to see us? How far will you go when you know it might mean your life?”
A reasonable question. One I can’t blame him for asking.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “But today I saw things I never would have thought were possible. Do you realize I went to a universe where Halli isn’t even alive anymore? That means I don’t even need that connection. And if I can go there, don’t you think that means I can find a universe I’ve already spent time in, and convince Halli to save her own life?”
“I don’t care about Halli,” Daniel says. “I only care about you. I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for her.”
“It’s not just for her, it’s for me. Daniel, I need to go home.”
“Let this be your home,” he says. “At least you’d be safe.”
“I wasn’t safe last time,” I remind him. “Do you really think I can live out a nice, long life inside some other person’s body?”
“Why not?” Daniel answers defiantly. “What do you think Edgar Venn has been doing?”
52
“I was going to wait until you recovered,” Daniel says.
“I’m recovered.” Although right now I feel as light-headed as I did when I first stumbled out of the machine. “What do you mean Edgar Venn has been doing that?”
“My sister notices more than the rest of us. She knew just from watching the films. The Edgar Venn who is living here now is not the same Dr. Venn who came here originally with the rest of the Pact members in 1946.”
“How do you know?”
“Because a man who has been living with his family all their lives doesn’t need to keep notes to remember the history they’ve had together.”
Daniel reaches across Dr. Venn’s desk to a stack of file folders there. “I found these in a locked drawer. He must have forgotten he left the key in it.”
“Daniel! I don’t think we should be snooping—”
“I was looking for information about the machine,” he says. “Besides, it’s better that you and I should find these than his granddaughter or someone else from his family. They might wonder why he’s kept files describing their personality traits and the nicknames he has for all of them, and what memories he should know of the various experiences they’ve had together.”
He hands me one of the files. It’s marked Elinor on the tab. While I start scanning through some of the notes, Daniel brings up a page on his tablet.
“Here is Dr. Venn’s biography. Son, George. Daughter, Elinor. Various grandchildren and great-grandchildren.”
Madeline is on the list. As are nine other names. And as Daniel shows me, each one of them has their own file.
I open the one for Madeline and read the notes: Nurse. Married to Tom. Children Edgar, Eloise, Edith. There’s a long list of other kinds of information, including Good cook. Good listener. Hates classical music.
I glance through some of the other files: Rachel, Richard, and Marnie—other grandchildren. Their children with various birthdates in the past five to twenty-five years. There are fewer notes on the youngest members of the family. Much thicker files for the oldest, especially Dr. Venn’s son and daughter.
I look up at Daniel. “What do you think is going on?”
“I think at some point the two Edgar Venns switched lives. Or perhaps he wasn’t exactly honest with us when he claimed it was the other Edgar Venn who died. It could have been the one here, and the Edgar from your universe took his place.”
My mind is reeling. Daniel is forty steps ahead of me right now. I’m racing to catch up.
“I want to go talk to him,” I say.
“He might be too ill,” Daniel says. “Or he might be reluctant to tell the truth.”
“Or maybe he left the key in that drawer on purpose,” I say. “And he’s tired of being the only one who knows his secret.”
53
It’s a strange sensation, being back in this hospital. Passing nurses and doctors I’m almost sure I’ve seen before.
There are two in particular I’d love to see again: Bertrise, the wonderful nurse who was always so kind to me, and Dr. Rios, who was always honest with me about what was happening with my body, and who let me see my friends even though Halli�
�s parents and Jake tried to keep them away.
But what would I say, even if I saw either of them? “Hi, you won’t remember, but I was in here last week, and I just wanted you to know I appreciate everything you did taking care of me. Even if it didn’t work in the end.
“But look—I’m back. I’m not dead. So in case you were feeling bad about that …”
Daniel pauses in front of the room we’ve been told is Dr. Venn’s.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod.
I feel nervous all of the sudden. Not about the questions I need to ask, but because I’m afraid what I’ll see behind this door. Has Dr. Venn gotten better since this morning, or worse?
Only one way to find out.
His eyes are closed when we come in. His skin is very, very pale. There’s an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, and I can hear puffs of air being rhythmically pumped into him like exaggerated breaths.
There’s an old woman sitting in the chair beside his bed, holding his hand. I wonder if it’s his wife. She smiles at us, but then startles at the sudden movement of Red leaping onto the bed. He makes himself comfortable in a space at Dr. Venn’s feet. I hurry to grab him off.
“Red! I’m so sorry—”
“No, leave him,” the woman says in a soft, slightly hoarse British accent. “There’s nothing my father would like better.”
Not his wife, his daughter. This must be Elinor.
“Hi, I’m Halli Markham. This is Daniel Everett. We’re …” What should I say? Friends of your father’s? Students?
But I don’t need to worry. “Yes, I know who you are,” Elinor answers.
“We’re sorry to bother you,” I say. “It’s just … we were with your father this morning. We wanted to make sure he’s all right.”
I’m prepared for her to be angry, to scold me the way Madeline did. But instead Elinor says, “He’s very weak, I’m afraid. My father forgets his age. But I’m not surprised he escaped his sick bed this morning. He’s been very eager to speak to you. I doubt any illness could keep him away.”
A nurse comes in. Not just any nurse—Madeline.
“You two,” she says as soon as she sees us. “Out.”
“No, dear,” Elinor says, “they can stay.”
“Mum, these two are the reason Granddad is here right now. I warned them not to exhaust him, but obviously they didn’t listen—”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “We did listen. We always tried to stop whenever he was tired—”
Elinor holds up her hand. “Both of you, that will do. Maddy, your grandfather specifically asked me to welcome them if they came to visit. I intend to honor his wish. We’ll be very careful—I give you my word. But I know he would like to see them.”
Madeline doesn’t look the least bit happy about that. She ignores all three of us for a few minutes while she fusses with Dr. Venn’s oxygen and monitors and takes his pulse. Finally she looks at her mother.
“Please don’t kill my grandfather.”
“I have no intention of that,” Elinor says.
Madeline turns to Daniel and me. “My mother is old and frail as well.”
“I’m very well today, thank you,” Elinor protests.
But Madeline is still looking at Daniel and me. “I warn you, you hold two of my family members in your hands right now. Both of them are very dear to me. I’ll be checking on them frequently. And mind your dog. If he jostles any of the equipment loose—”
“Maddy, come now.” Elinor rises slowly from her chair and steadies herself against Madeline’s arm. Then she politely escorts her daughter from the room, whispering something to her along the way. Once Madeline is gone, Elinor holds her hand out toward Daniel for a steadying arm back.
He helps her to her chair. Then she points to the other chairs stacked in a corner. “Please, sit down. I need to speak with both of you.”
Daniel and I draw our chairs close to her so we can keep our voices low and not wake up Dr. Venn.
“Audie,” Elinor says, “it’s all right. I know who you are. My father has told me everything.”
“Oh.” I glance over at Daniel. He’s as surprised as I am.
“But I’m the only one who knows,” Elinor says, “and I’m certain he would like it to remain that way. So we’ll need to take precautions.”
“Of course.” Although I’m not sure what precautions she means.
“When I first visited him here this morning, he asked me to give you a message. He wasn’t certain you would come, but he hoped it.”
“Of course we’d come,” Daniel says. “We were worried.”
Elinor smiles. “Thank you. One’s parents obviously can’t live forever, but I’ve always hoped to have as much time with him as possible.” She reaches over to cup Dr. Venn’s hand in both of her own. “He’s a dear man, and I feel I’ve barely gotten to know him. You know who I am, don’t you?”
“Yes, you’re Elinor,” I say. “His daughter.”
“The daughter he never had,” she answers. “I was never born in his other life. He has only known me here.”
54
“He came for my mother,” Elinor says. “She was still alive then. The two of them were able to enjoy eight more years together.”
“Wait,” I say, “so you knew?”
“Not always,” she says. “I noticed the change, of course. Their dispositions were very different. But one wouldn’t assume the true reason behind it. I didn’t know the extent of my father’s experiments at the time. It’s something I learned of only later.”
“Did your mother know?” I ask.
“Eventually. She told me she confronted him. He confessed everything.” Elinor smiles. “I believe they were very happy together after that.”
This is all too much for me. Daniel can see it. He’s fresher than I am—he hasn’t already spent today traveling to other universes and back. So he quickly steps in.
“How long ago?” he asks.
“Eighteen years,” Elinor says.
“After the conference we saw,” Daniel tells me.
“Yes, the conference,” Elinor confirms. “I’m afraid the pressures he felt at the time took their toll. My father became reckless. He felt he had much to prove. And then his colleague Dr. Sands died …”
I’m starting to catch up. “So is it like he said?” I ask. “About the other Dr. Venn? But it was really him—your father—that it happened to. He tried to take over someone else’s mind, and that’s … how he died?”
“In essence,” Elinor says. “Yes, I believe that’s true.”
“How did you find out?” Daniel asks.
“From my mother. She deteriorated very rapidly toward the end. A few days before she died, she called me into her bedroom and told me everything.”
“But you said you suspected,” Daniel says.
Elinor smiles. “I loved my other father. Dearly. But this one …” She’s still holding Dr. Venn’s hand. She lifts it to her cheek. “He was different. Warmer. Kinder.
“I didn’t blame my other father,” she hurries to add. “He faced so many disappointments. He was treated very harshly by the scientific community and his colleagues. I think it left him very discouraged and angry. But we all loved him—my brother and I, our children, my mother—and we would have mourned him very deeply if we’d known he died.”
“But you didn’t know,” Daniel says.
“No,” Elinor says. “He came home that night just as he did every other night. And our lives went on. Now that I look back, of course the signs were obvious. My father was suddenly so much more light-hearted and loving. He spent a great deal more time with all of us than he ever had before. He seemed to want us all around as much as possible. He especially treasured my mother. Whenever they were together, he rarely let go of her hand.”
I love the image of that. The idea that a man goes off to work one day and returns home in love with his wife.
“Was his own wife still alive?” Daniel asks.
“So he saw a way to be with her again,” I say.
“And with children and grandchildren,” Elinor answers. “He didn’t have any of those in his other life.”
“But … there was a son,” I say.
“My brother George,” Elinor says. “He died over there. In the Vietnam War. He was only twenty. He never married. He had no children.”
“And you were never born there,” Daniel says.
“No. My parents stopped at one. Well—those parents,” she corrects herself. “I never knew that mother.”
“So he didn’t have anything left over there,” I say. “When your real father died, he decided to take his place.”
“I don’t know how much of a decision it was,” Elinor says. “I believe it was more of an impulse. Once he knew my father was gone—”
“He jumped over,” I say.
I think about that for a moment. About the mechanism that made it possible.
“So it’s the same as what happened to Dr. Sands,” I say. “He left his other body behind and never came back.”
“I don’t know,” Elinor says. “I’m not sure if even he knows for certain what happened in that life. I asked him, but he’s never been curious to see. He said he’s too happy here.”
“Do you think anyone else has ever suspected?” Daniel asks.
“I don’t know,” Elinor says. “I do know it’s been very difficult for him at times to pretend to be other than he is. It’s one of the reasons he retreated so quickly from the public eye. He was always afraid someone would suspect the truth. Although the truth is so inconceivable, I doubt there’s any real danger. In any case, he’s always been very, very careful.”
I think about that first conversation we had, over the comm in Daniel’s kitchen. Dr. Venn was so harsh with us, so grouchy and rude. Was that really just an act to keep strangers from getting too close? Or was that his way of imitating the Dr. Venn people remember?
Parallelogram Omnibus Edition Page 91
