by E. C. Myers
“What is going on?” Ephraim murmured. “People keep staring at me.”
“Maybe they think you're someone else,” Zoe said.
“My analog hasn't been around for over a decade.” Ephraim ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever. Did we get everything?” he asked.
Everything on Zoe's list was crossed off. “Yup,” she said.
Ephraim aimed the cart for the bank of checkout machines. They were all self-serve. There wasn't a single human employee in sight. A seven-foot-tall blue robot that looked like a refrigerator on tank treads was restocking a display with cans it pulled from inside itself. Some things had changed here, after all.
“Let's go,” he said.
“Ephraim, wait.” Zoe grabbed his arm. Cold air from the cooler washed over them. Goose pimples dotted her bare forearm. Did Jena have that mole there, just above her right wrist?
“I have to ask you something important,” she said.
Ephraim looked pointedly at the shoppers around them.
“Here?” he asked.
“Before we get back to Crossroads. Before I lose my nerve.” He'd never known Zoe to be nervous about anything. She took a deep breath and let it out. It misted in the refrigerated air.
“Ephraim…” She put her hands on her hips. “Seriously? You're staring at my boobs?”
“What?” he asked. “I'm not—” He was. She'd forgotten her hoodie, and her tank top was eminently more fascinating at the moment, thanks to the cold temperature. “Sorry. Was that your question?”
“No. Hold on,” she said.
She put her hands over Doug's ears. He giggled and closed his eyes.
“So why haven't you slept with Jena yet?” Zoe asked.
“Huh?”
“Simple question,” she said.
“Yeah, but it's also blunt. And unexpected.” Which described Zoe perfectly. “You know what? I'm not having this conversation.”
He yanked the cart toward the checkout machine and started running items through the barcode scanner and dropping them on the scale.
“Jena and I have talked about you,” Zoe said. “At length.”
“I am shocked by this startling revelation,” Ephraim said. He dropped a can of peas. It rolled under the machine. He decided to leave it there.
“I assumed Jena was holding out on you. She seemed like the type. But she says you wanted to wait. That sounded so improbable, I was certain she was making it up.”
Ephraim's eyes flicked to Doug.
Doug put his own hands over his ears and grinned, his eyes flitting between Ephraim and Zoe. The kid was going to need therapy one day.
“He doesn't know what we're talking about,” Zoe said.
“I'm not sure I do either,” Ephraim said. He put down a box of generic corn flakes and looked at Zoe. “Fine. You know we were planning to do it the night of prom.”
“Jena said she was ready to have sex months ago and she gave you plenty of hints. Even you can't be that clueless. I'm curious why you didn't jump her bones at your earliest opportunity.”
“She was telling the truth. I wanted to wait,” Ephraim said.
“You wanted it to be special?” Zoe asked.
“Yeah, of course. Duh. But that wasn't it.” He met Zoe's eyes. A serious question deserved a serious answer.
“Giving Jena the coin meant admitting I would never travel to another universe again,” he said. “Sleeping with her…was admitting I would never see you again.” He gripped the handle of the cart. His slick palms slipped on the glossy plastic. “I wasn't ready for that.”
“Oh,” Zoe said.
She numbly picked up a box of macaroni and cheese and pulled it against her chest instead of running it through the scanner.
“Happy now?” he asked. He grabbed the box from her and scanned it. He fed a couple more boxes through the machine without noticing what they were.
“Yes,” she said.
Ephraim looked up. She had a goofy grin on her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I love you,” Zoe said. “For what that's worth.” She pushed her hair back from her face and suddenly found something intensely interesting about the rear wheels of the shopping cart.
When he was with Zoe, he only wanted to be with Zoe. But when he was with Jena, sometimes—it was less often, now, but it still happened sometimes—he thought about Zoe. If he really thought about it honestly, if he had to make a decision right now…
“I love you, too,” he said.
Her head snapped up. “That was fast. You're not saying it because I said it, right? Like an automatic response that you didn't think about before you opened your mouth? I know you have that problem, saying whatever comes into your head, but it isn't supposed to work that way. Don't just say it because it's what I want to hear. Only if you mean it—”
“Zoe!” Ephraim said. “I mean it. I didn't have to think about it because it's what I feel. What I've felt since I first saw you at the fountain last year.”
“When you thought I was Jena,” she said.
“I only thought that until you kissed me, thinking I was your Ephraim. You're a very good kisser.”
They looked at each other.
“I might have waited too long to tell you that,” Zoe said.
“To tell me what?” Ephraim smiled.
“I love you,” she repeated.
“Yes,” Ephraim said. “You waited too long, but it isn't too late.”
“So what do we do now?” Zoe asked. She leaned over the cart between them. He did not look down her shirt, except once, very quickly.
“Kiss!” Doug said.
“Don't encourage us,” Zoe said. “Wait a minute. Kid, can you hear what we're saying?”
Doug shook his head, hands still over his ears.
“Hmmm,” Zoe said. She flipped a panel up on the front of the child seat to reveal a video screen. A 3-D cartoon came up. Doug's eyes glazed over instantly. She pulled out the attached earbuds and poked them into his ears.
“Should he be watching that?” Ephraim asked.
“Sure. That's what it's for. Where were we? Oh, yeah. ‘Kiss.’”
She leaned toward Ephraim.
“Uh. There's just one thing,” he said.
Zoe sighed and stood straight. “Jena.”
“It's awkward,” he said. “I sort of love her, too.”
“You can't love both of us.”
“I do.”
“No, I mean you aren't allowed to if you want to be in a relationship with me. Maybe that's selfish or narrow-minded, but it's the way I am.”
“I'm just being honest, Zoe. I love her, but I don't want to be with her. I want to be with you.”
Her stupid smile was back.
“Jena and I are good together,” Ephraim said. “I know I could be happy with her. I am happy with her. Or I was.”
Zoe's smile faded.
Doug handed Ephraim the bag of apples from the cart, and he put it on the scale. He pressed a button on the touchscreen to accept the price.
“It takes effort though, for me at least,” Ephraim said. “It's not as easy as it is with you.”
“You think I'm easy.” Zoe frowned her disapproval.
“No, I'm more comfortable with you.”
“You find me comfortable?” She was only teasing him.
“Come on! I mean you and I fit better.” He rolled his eyes. “We belong together.”
“Does Jena know?” Zoe asked.
“She suspects,” Ephraim said.
Zoe started bagging their groceries while Ephraim emptied the cart.
“She knew it before we did,” Zoe said. “That isn't your fault. But you have to talk to her before we…”
“I know. Notice how I'm not kissing you right now?”
“Sadly, yes.” She pouted. “You would have banged her eventually?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ephraim said. “Definitely. I'm not that virtuous.”
“Then you might like t
o know that my Ephraim and I had sexual relations. Constantly,” Zoe said.
“Good for you,” Ephraim said. He clenched his hands.
“Um, you're not supposed to squeeze bread,” Zoe said.
Ephraim dropped the squashed loaf to the side of the checkout counter. The soft white bread slowly regained some of its shape.
“In my universe, you can't afford to wait for the good stuff. You might not live long enough,” Zoe said.
“It's fine,” he said.
“No regrets?” Zoe asked.
He shook his head. “Despite the strong motivation, talking to Jena's going to be difficult. All this time I've been insisting she's wrong about us, but she was right all along. Having that conversation might be the hardest thing I've ever had to do.”
“Including that time you stopped Nate from terrorizing the multiverse?”
“We did that. Together,” Ephraim said. “And it was much easier, in retrospect.”
The last items in the cart were the three bags of gummy bears. He stared at them.
“I get it now,” he said. “You're the Haribo brand!”
“You're cute, but you're kind of slow sometimes, Ephraim,” Zoe said. He felt an eerie sense of déjà vu; another of her analogs had said that to him once before.
Ephraim handed the bag of Haribo gummies to Zoe and left the other two bags on the side for the robot to re-shelve.
Zoe tapped Nathaniel's credit card against the screen and paid the bill. Ephraim loaded the cart with their bagged groceries. He looped his fingers through the wire mesh of the cart and looked at Zoe solemnly.
“There's still one significant problem,” Ephraim said.
“The end of the multiverse.” Zoe shrugged. “One issue at a time.”
“And even if we fix that, we still come from different universes.”
“Here's a wild thought: We could just enjoy being together for now.” She walked backward, pulling the cart with her. Ephraim's fingers were still threaded into the metal, so he went with them. Doug laughed. He liked going backward.
They pushed the cart out of the store. Ephraim blinked in the bright sunlight, and sweat formed as soon as he left the refrigerated comfort of the Stop n' Shop. He pulled his fingers free from the cart and massaged them.
She took his hands. “We can at least have lots of sex. After you dump your girlfriend.”
Ephraim widened his eyes. “But that would make you a felon. I'm still a minor.”
“Not in this universe.” She flashed him a wicked grin.
“Kiss!” Doug said.
As soon as Ephraim, Zoe, and Doug returned to Crossroads, Ephraim went looking for Jena at Everett's lab. He wanted to get this over with.
She was leaning against Hugh's desk with a hand draped over his shoulder while he typed at his keyboard. He murmured something in a low voice. She laughed.
“Jena?” Ephraim said.
Jena jumped. She looked at Ephraim guiltily. She pulled away from Hugh and clasped her arms around herself.
“Ephraim!” Jena said. “You're back.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ephraim said.
“Nonsense. Come in,” Hugh said. “I've been waiting for you.”
“You have?” Ephraim and Jena asked.
“You didn't get my message?” Hugh asked. “I told Nathaniel to send you here as soon as you got back.”
“I haven't seen him. I came straight here,” Ephraim said.
“Doesn't matter. I need a helping hand and only yours will do.” Hugh turned to Jena. “Dear, could you give us some privacy?”
“Sure,” Jena said. She looked at Ephraim questioningly.
“Um, Zoe could probably use some help with the groceries,” Ephraim said. “She has her hands full with Doug.”
“I thought he'd get tired out from shopping,” Jena said.
“He might have if he hadn't eaten three Twinkies.”
“Ephraim!”
Jena walked toward the door. Hugh patted her on the rear and she slapped his hand away.
“What did I say about that?” she said.
“Force of habit.” He smiled.
“I thought you learned quickly,” she said. “Some genius.”
“I am who I am, darling.”
“Work on that,” she said. She hid a small smile from him, but Ephraim saw it.
She stopped to give Ephraim a kiss, but he turned his head slightly so her lips only brushed his cheek.
“Eph?” Jena said.
“We have to talk,” he said softly. “Later. When I'm done here, I'll find you.”
She steadied her eyes on him. Then she brushed past Ephraim, and after a long pause, he heard the door close behind him.
“Ephraim, pull up a stool,” Hugh said.
“I'd rather stand,” Ephraim said.
“You've got a bee in your bonnet.”
“I don't even know what that means.” He stared at the closed door. He wanted to go after Jena. “What can I help you with?”
“She's a bright and beautiful woman. I've never met anyone like her before,” Hugh said.
Ephraim laughed. “That's funny, considering how many Kim analogs we have in one place.”
Hugh lit a cigarette and regarded Ephraim carefully. “And yet Jena isn't anything like Dr. Kim or Zoe. You see that, don't you?”
Ephraim nodded. “I thought you and Dr. Kim were…”
“I like women,” Hugh said. “I simply used her in the same way she wanted to use me. It was consensual, no strings attached, cosmic or otherwise. And it was lovely. It's just sex, Ephraim.” Hugh tapped the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray.
“It's more than sex to her,” Ephraim said.
“Dr. Kim was only trying to recapture what she had with my predecessor.” Hugh blew smoke from the side of his mouth. “Or were you referring to Jena?”
Ephraim remained silent.
“You're lucky, Ephraim. Jena's in love with you. She's made that quite clear.” Hugh examined the glowing tip of his cigarette. “How serious would you say you are about her?”
“That's none of your business,” Ephraim said.
“It could be.”
“If you're trying to justify flirting with her—” Ephraim said.
“I don't need justification or your permission,” Hugh said. “Only hers. I make no apologies for my behavior. Except to her.”
“Good luck with that, Pudge.”
Hugh scowled. “Where did you hear that?”
Ephraim waved a hand carelessly. “I read it somewhere. Biographers know everything about you here, including your nickname.”
“I've always despised that name.” Hugh stood up from his chair. “I deserved that, though.” He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. “I've been at this for too long. I'm sorry. I'm under quite a bit of stress, and if I can be truthful, I may have overestimated my ability to understand all this. Jena has been the one bright spot about this whole situation.”
“I know what you mean,” Ephraim said.
“I'd like to be friends with you,” Hugh said.
“'Friend' might be too optimistic, but I'll try. For the sake of the multiverse,” Ephraim said.
“Good man. You'll see in a moment that we have no choice but to work together. Follow me.”
Hugh led Ephraim to a workbench at the back of the laboratory. There was a dusty file box labeled “Top Secret” in black marker.
“That's a great way to prevent prying.” Ephraim looked inside the carton and found an old tape recorder and a locked metal box with an index card taped to the top of it, bearing a handwritten note in tiny letters.
Ephraim picked up the metal box. It beeped softly at his touch, and a light on top turned green.
“Ah,” Hugh said. “Excellent.”
“Biometric scanner?” Ephraim asked. The box was about the size of a doorstopper novel. He turned it over. Something rattled inside.
He read aloud from the yellowing card taped to it: �
�'Do not open until Doomsday.'” He tried to lift the lid, but it was still locked. He jiggled it in case it was only stuck, but it stayed closed.
He put the box down on the bench. It beeped again, and the green light faded away.
“I guess they're serious,” Ephraim said. He tapped the note thoughtfully. Something about it bugged him.
“Someone may have had an odd sense of humor,” Hugh said. “Though the end of the multiverse would qualify.”
Ephraim picked up a pencil and a scrap of paper from the lab table. He scribbled on the page for a moment, stared at what he'd written, and then passed it to Hugh.
Hugh held Ephraim's note next to the one on the box to compare the handwriting.
“A perfect match,” Hugh said. “You're either a master forger, or that's—”
“My analog's handwriting,” Ephraim said. He dropped the pencil on the floor and stepped away from the table. “What's the deal?”
“The deal is that this universe's Ephraim and one of my predecessors wanted to be very certain that only they could access whatever's inside this box. It's coded to open only at their touch.”
“Or two of their analogs,” Ephraim said.
“We're both keys,” Hugh said.
Ephraim grinned. He was needed after all. Even if it was just to open a box.
“What do you suppose is in there?” Ephraim asked.
“Hope, perhaps,” Hugh said. “There's a simple way to find out.”
Hugh placed his left hand on the left corner of the lid. The box beeped, and a light on his side turned green.
Ephraim put his right hand on the right edge. The box beeped, and another green light flashed.
The lid unlatched. They lifted it together.
The box contained a black foam rectangle that was flush with its sides. A smaller one-inch-deep rectangle had been cut into the middle of the foam, with an audiocassette nestled in the cushioned hollow. “Play Me” was written on its label in fading pencil in handwriting Ephraim didn't recognize.
“What is that?” Hugh asked.
Ephraim glanced at him in surprise. “It's a cassette. A way of storing audio on a strip of magnetic tape.”
“Like reel-to-reel tape,” Hugh said, his voice filled with wonder. He picked up the cassette delicately between his index finger and thumb and examined it. “I heard someone was working on this. But I never dreamed it could become so compact.”
