Broken Spells

by D. W. Moneypenny

  The other Mara jumped up from her perch on the bumper. “Wait. Why did you come here today?”

  “It was nothing—just a silly idea. I don’t want to put you out any more than I have already.”

  “You came all this way. You might as well tell me. Why are you here?”

  Mara sighed and felt stupid. “I was wondering if you had the ability to build—or grow or whatever it is you do—a human body. Don’t answer that. I’m not asking you to do that.”

  Her counterpart raised an eyebrow. “What kind of human body?”

  “One like ours.”

  “You want me to build another Mara? Don’t we have too many already?”

  Mara chuckled. “You’re right. Forget about it.” She pulled the Chronicle out of her pocket and held it out.

  “Wait a minute. You’re serious. You want me to create a copy of your body. Why?”

  “Really. Just ignore this visit. I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Considering all that you’ve done to my life, the least you owe me is an explanation. Why another Mara?”

  Guilting me into telling her. Exactly what I would do, if I were her.

  “The Aphotis destroyed my original body.” She held out her arms and looked down at herself. “This one is synthetic.”

  “No way.” She approached to examine Mara more closely.

  “Don’t touch me, or I will be pushed back into my own realm—at least I think I will. With this body, who knows where I would go. Regardless, it’s not from here, and I don’t want to set off an explosion.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “Counterparts from different realms cannot touch each other.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She continued eyeing Mara’s physique like it was a machine she needed to fix, an expression that had shaped Mara’s features thousands of times. She just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it.

  Wagging her finger up and down in front of Mara’s torso, the other Mara said, “This is artificial?”

  Mara nodded. “I was in a realm where people gave up their biological bodies for mechanical ones because of a virus.”

  “I see. Fascinating. What is the power source?”

  “My skin absorbs solar energy.”

  “Cool.” She walked behind Mara, still examining.

  Beginning to feel self-conscious, Mara said, “Can you stop doing that? I’m not a toaster. You don’t need to examine this body to tell me if you can create another one.”

  “It’s illegal to create a human body. Besides, it doesn’t work anyway. The body functions on a technical level, but there is no soul, no Consciousness. It isn’t really a person.”

  She kept looking Mara over, and Mara sensed she wouldn’t walk away from the challenge.

  “I’d have to create your entire physique by slurry.”

  “Slurry?”

  “Remember the tank of goo in the back of the shop? I use it to grow parts for gadgets, cars, other devices.”

  “Vaguely.”

  “How identical does the body need to be?”

  “Completely. My mother is freaked out about me losing the body she birthed. I need something that would pass a medical examination, not to mention her examination. DNA, the whole nine yards.”

  “I’ll need a sample from your biological body to do that. Can you get it?”

  Mara shook her head. “No way. My dead body was stolen.”

  “It’s just one drama after another with you, isn’t it?” the other Mara asked. “Why the hell would someone take your dead body?”

  “I haven’t had time to figure that out.”

  “How did they get you into this body?”

  “They extracted engrams from my brain. They are now located in the biosynaptic interface in my cranium.”

  “Cool. Let’s go take a look.” She walked toward the back door of the shop, stopped, spun on a heel and returned to the car. She slammed the hood closed and said, “Don’t want the alternator to escape. Those suckers are fast once they get loose.”

  Mara laughed, imagining a little creature detaching itself from the engine and running up a tree. “Wait! What do you mean, take a look? In my cranium?” She followed her counterpart inside.

  This version of the shop looked much as she remembered it. The area used in her realm for Bruce’s bicycle repair garage was taken up with the large glass vat of goo, additional shelves and stacks of boxes. In the wide doorway leading to the front of the shop sat her counterpart’s pet chobodon, a creature that looked like a cross between a pig and an armadillo. It snorted and squealed when it saw Mara follow her counterpart into the room.

  The other Mara said, “You remember Ginger?”

  “How could I forget? You sicced her on me.”

  “Be a good girl, and go keep an eye on the front of the store while Mommy works,” she said to the animal. The creature waddled away after a final snort.

  “Mommy?”

  “She’s my baby. You got a problem with that?” She pulled out a tall stool and placed it in the center of the room. “Sit here.”

  Mara complied and listened to her counterpart rummage in the shelves for a moment before returning with a device that looked like a cricket paddle—a wide, flat bat made of beige plastic. She fiddled with dials mounted around the handle, and it glowed with a pale white light. Extending her arm, she held it horizontally and approached Mara.

  “What is that?”

  “A bioform wand. It can detect and analyze living tissue. Don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. Just try not to move while I wave this over your body.”

  She wielded the device like a hand-held body scanner at an airport security checkpoint, moving it up and down in front and behind Mara. Once she had finished, she flipped the device over and examined a tiny screen built into the backside of the handle.

  “Good news. There’s a nice chunk of brain matter in there. I’m also picking up some biomatter in your abdomen region. What is that?”

  “I had coffee and fruitcake shortly before coming here.”

  “Why do you need to eat if you absorb energy through your skin?”

  “The designers of these bodies wanted them to be as human as possible. I even taste food like I did with my other body.”

  “Interesting. Do you poop?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I poop. Like I said—”

  “—as human as possible,” the other Mara said. “Got it. Anyway, if we can crack open that skull of yours, we could produce a body by applying your genome to the slurry matrix. It would take about four days.”

  “Is this process like cloning?” Mara asked.

  “No. Cloning involves manipulating the nucleus of a cell, usually an unfertilized egg, and then letting it grow into a fully formed animal—in this case, a person. That process takes too long, and errors creep in too frequently. No one even bothers with that anymore. The slurry matrix absorbs genetic coding and reorganizes itself to match it.”

  “I would be my mother’s biological daughter again? Even though my body will have come from this slurry stuff?”

  “Your cells will contain the genetic material that came from your parents. The cells will be new, but the design will be from your forebears. You realize the cells in your biological body had been replaced thousands of times since your birth? It’s not like you were walking around with the tissues that formed in your mother’s womb. The genetic legacy will be intact. There’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I told you. I can create a functional body, but I can’t give it a soul.”

  “I can take care of that. I think. Will you have to remove all the engrams from my cranium? I’ll need to have my wits about me to make the transition.”

  “I just need one cell. You can continue in your synthetic body while your biological one grows. Are you sure you can do this—this transition?”

  “When I first woke up in this body, I inadvertently slipped out of it for a m
oment. So, yeah, I’m sure I can do it.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll grow you a body. But there’s one condition—and it’s not negotiable.”

  Mara’s heart skipped a beat. There had to be a hitch. “What?” she asked.

  “I want to see my brother again, and my mother needs to see him too.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You have to bring Sam here. Your Sam.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The transparent sphere exploded out of nowhere, filling the kitchen at the back of Ping’s Bakery without warning. Sam jumped in his seat next to the office, nearly dropping the book bag he rummaged through, while Ping almost fell over, since he was in the process of sitting at the table. Mara stood in the center of the expanded Chronicle and held out her hand. The globe surrounding her collapsed and turned into the jeweled copper disk that fell out of the air into her palm.

  Stepping toward the table, she noticed Sam and Ping had bewildered expressions. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Their gazes shifted to a space beyond Mara’s left shoulder, and she turned to where they stared. Behind her, at the coffee urns holding paper cups, was another Mara. After filling them, she turned, gasped and dropped the cups, splattering hot brew over the floor between them.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Ah, Ping! I need your help here,” the newly arrived Mara said.

  Ping approached slowly, walking in a wide arc, keeping space between them. He stopped at the side of the other Mara—the one in front of the coffee urns. “What realm do you come from?” he asked.

  “This one,” Mara said. “You told me I needed to concentrate on the other elements of Reality when using the Chronicle, so that’s what I did. I focused on Time, because I needed to get back a few minutes early—before Sam left for Mrs. Zimmerman’s. It didn’t occur to me that I would run into myself.”

  “I never told you to concentrate on the elements of Reality,” Ping said. “I admit that I have been meaning to discuss it with you, but I haven’t had a chance.”

  The other Mara cut in. “Ping, who is this?”

  Mara ignored her other self. “We’ll have that conversation in a few minutes. Or we would have, if I had not interrupted. This is confusing.”

  “Fascinating,” Ping said. “You claim to be from the future?”

  “Just an hour in the future.”

  “Don’t believe her,” the past version of herself said. “I’ve never been able to move through Time using the Chronicle before, at least not intentionally. How could I learn it in less than an hour?”

  “I am you—a little over an hour from now,” Mara said. “Jeez, that sounds weird when you say it out loud.”

  Sam joined them at the coffee urns. “Her clothes are the same as yours. We’ve never seen that when we’ve met your counterparts from other realms.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Past Mara said. “Getting identical clothing isn’t exactly a stretch if you’re interested in pulling off a deception.”

  “I understand your reluctance to believe me, but it is true. I traveled to Prado’s realm to ask the Mara there if she would build me a new biological body, and, when I returned to this realm, I intentionally concentrated on coming back at this time.”

  Past Mara’s suspicious look softened.

  Ping noticed and said, “Were you considering that?”

  “The thought had occurred to me. Tell me something that only I would know and don’t make it embarrassing. Remember, the blabbermouth is listening.”

  “Hey!” Sam said.

  Mara thought for a moment, then said, “When I—we—woke up this morning, we didn’t recognize the digital clock or the nightstand. We were confused about not being in our bedroom in the old house, the one torched by the dragon.”

  Past Mara faced Ping. “She might be me—I mean, this me, from this realm.”

  “How will we explain to Mom that there are two of you now?” Sam asked. “Having one robot daughter is bad enough, but when she finds out there are two of you, she’ll really freak out. I guess we could tell her one of you is for spare parts.”

  “Shut up, Sam!” both Maras said in unison. To Ping, they said, “What do we do?” They glared at each other.

  “It might be best if we sit down and think this through,” Ping said. “I’ve got an extra chair in the office.” He retrieved the chair and placed it between where he and Mara sat. “Why don’t the two of you sit on opposite sides of the table? Sam and I will sit between you to prevent any accidental contact.”

  “You think they might explode?” Sam asked.

  “I’m not sure, since it appears they both come from this realm, but let’s not take any chances—just in case.”

  They took their seats, the two Maras facing each other. “What did you find out in Prado’s realm? Did you find our counterpart?” Past Mara asked.

  “Yes,” Mara said. “She can replace our biological body by using a cell from the engrams in our cranium. It would be identical to the one destroyed by the Aphotis.”

  “Gives new meaning to talking to yourself,” Sam said.

  “She’s willing to do this?” Ping asked. “You’re willing to do this too? It could be risky. If she inadvertently touches you during the process, it’s likely you would die.”

  “I know there’s risk involved,” Mara said. “But it’s not unreasonable, and I can’t spend the rest of my life in this synthetic contraption. I think it would drive Mom nuts, and that would drive me nuts.”

  “What do you think?” Ping asked Past Mara.

  “We may have two Maras at the moment, but I think only one opinion is at work here. Until I see something to lead me to think otherwise, I’ll trust her instincts.”

  “I’m surprised that you have come around so quickly,” Mara said to her past self.

  “Like I said, I’m on board until I see you do or say something I wouldn’t.”

  “Our counterpart did have one condition before she would begin growing the body.”

  “What condition?” Ping asked.

  “She wants me to bring Sam to her realm.”

  He perked up. “Cool. Let’s go. Anything’s better than algebra and essays.”

  Ping looked concerned. “What’s her interest in Sam? Doesn’t she have a brother?”

  “No. Her version of Sam died recently. She wants to see him again and have him visit with her mother.”

  “Why am I always dead when we visit these realms?” he asked. “We have seen other Maras, other Pings and copies of other people, but everywhere we go—even in the dream realm—I am dead. How did I die in this latest realm?”

  Mara paused, stared at herself across the table for a moment. Past Mara could sense something was up. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I’m not clear on all the details, but when I returned the Aphotis—Prado’s spirit—to his realm, I upset some religious order, who now blames my counterpart for destroying their faith. They attempted to free the Aphotis, but they couldn’t. That sticky steam I created in the dream realm would not release him in the lightbulb world. Anyway, they’ve turned themselves into some coven and, while attacking Mara, Sam got caught in the cross fire and was killed. Obviously she blames me. The only way she’ll help me is if she gets to see her brother again.”

  “What a mess,” Past Mara said.

  Mara looked at her brother. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I will understand.”

  “How long would we be there?” he asked.

  “Four days. That’s how long it takes for the new body to form. Mara wants you there during that time, to be with her and her mother. I will be there—and Ping too, if he’s willing. I would bring us back a few minutes from now, so no one would even know we were gone.”

  “Great. I would still have to go to Mrs. Zimmerman’s. And, after that, we could end up with three Maras.”

  “This isn’t about getting out of your lessons,” Ping said.

  �
�I know. I was just giving her grief,” Sam said. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go see Mara and Mom in the realm where they put dead people in lightbulbs. Hey! Their Sam has a lightbulb, right? Will I get to see it?”

  “I would assume he has one,” Mara said. “But I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask about it.”

  Ping leaned forward to catch Sam’s attention. “I understand your enthusiasm for a new adventure, but these people just lost their brother and son. They will be grieving, so being ebullient might not be appropriate. Follow what I’m saying?”

  “I get it. I was just curious.”

  “I have a question,” Past Mara said.

  “For me?” Ping asked.

  “For whoever can answer it.”

  “What is it?” Mara asked.

  “If we are traveling to Prado’s realm, which Mara will go? Past Mara or Future Mara?”

  “Interesting,” Ping said. “That is a conundrum, isn’t it?”

  As if an epiphany hit them, both Maras’ gazes widened, and they said, “Both of us should go.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ping asked.

  “When Hannah was here, she said that time was like a merry-go-round,” Past Mara said.

  Mara nodded. “Hannah described a loop. We need to close this loop, or this timeline will split into two.”

  “Going through the Chronicle together will close the loop,” Past Mara said.

  “Or we’ll end up with four Maras when we get there. No, Five, counting the Mara who’s already in the realm of the dead lightbulbs,” Sam said.

  “That won’t happen,” Mara said. “I told my counterpart we’d show up two hours after I was last there, so she would have time to finish working on the car. As long as I don’t show up early, I shouldn’t split into more Maras.”

  CHAPTER 6

  When the Chronicle deposited them in the back of the shop, Mara glanced to her right, looking for her time-split counterpart. Relieved she had not arrived with them, Mara still sensed something was wrong, something was off-kilter. Ping nodded in confirmation, yet Sam looked enthused, ready for a new adventure.