by E. C. Myers
“You don't have to kill me,” Ephraim said. “You can take my place.”
Dick stared at him. “Dammit! You're really that fucking noble?”
“He is,” Zoe said.
Dick put the gun down on the desk. “Screw it. I don't even know how to use a gun,” he said.
Nathaniel snatched it up. “I do.” He pointed it at Dick and pulled the trigger.
Dick flinched. Jena screamed. But there was no gunshot.
“You think I'm stupid enough to keep a loaded gun around kids?” Nathaniel asked. “And I'm not referring to Doug. Sheesh.” He tucked the gun into his pocket. “Now where were we?”
“Dick was demonstrating why he doesn't deserve to live,” Zoe said.
“Should we draw straws?” Jena asked.
“Forget it.” Zoe lowered her eyes. “Eph, you and Jena go,” she said.
“Zoe,” Ephraim said.
“It's okay.” She took his hand. “You picked me. That's good enough.”
Ephraim glanced at Jena. That wasn't going to happen.
“I'm staying with you, Zoe. Whatever we decide,” he said.
Dick rolled his eyes.
Ephraim stood up. He had been so sure of their plan, but the longer he waited, the more uncertain he became.
“Hugh, Jena, Doug, Dick, and Nathan will go to whichever universe we pick.” He looked at Zoe and Nathaniel. “The three of us have taken this kind of risk before. We already decided what it was worth to us to keep the rest of the multiverse, and our friends and family, safe.”
Nathaniel clapped him on the back. Zoe chewed on her upper lip, nodding.
“Great.” Dick clapped his hands once. “So let's go home.”
“No,” Jena said.
“Jena?” Ephraim asked.
“We can't ask you to sacrifice yourselves for us,” she said.
“You don't have to ask. That's what makes it a sacrifice,” Zoe said.
“Be selfish for once, Eph,” Jena said.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“There's no happy ending, Jena,” Nathaniel said. “Let us do this.”
Jena whirled to face Ephraim. “Eph, you don't have to do this.”
“I don't see anyone else volunteering.”
“You didn't give us the chance,” Nathan said. “If I thought it would do any good, I'd let you take my place. But I can't. So I'm not going. Nathaniel, you can have my spot.”
“I've spent enough time in the past,” Nathaniel said. “I'm not doing that again. That's your time. You have to lead the life you were meant to.”
Zoe slapped the table. They all looked at her.
“Am I hearing this right? No one wants to go?” she asked.
“I didn't say that,” Dick said.
“Neither did I. I'm going,” Hugh said.
Jena glared at Hugh. “How can I live my life knowing what it cost?” Jena said. “I have enough pressure without that on my conscience.”
“That's your problem,” Zoe said. “You'll get over it.”
“Hold on,” Jena said. “Hold on.” She stared at the screen, biting her lip.
“What?” Ephraim asked.
Jena waved him off. “Shhh. I'm thinking.”
She furrowed her brow and looked at the numbers again.
“We only need to maintain two universes to accommodate all of us,” she said.
“Which is still one too many,” Ephraim reminded her.
“Says Scott. But he also said some universes might remain anyway. When we were planning to copy coordinates to those laptops, we were going to take them to as many universes as possible. Why, Hugh?”
“I thought that would improve our odds of at least one universe surviving,” he said.
“At least one. So there's a benefit to trying to preserve more than one?”
“As a mathematician, I agree with that. But with a couple of stipulations. Each of those universes would have to be radically different from the other, or it wouldn't work. Similar universes are too prone to decoherence and convergence.” He pulled his glasses off and polished them on his lapel. “In other words, they're more likely to merge.”
“Right,” Jena said. “You used the words ‘likely,’ and ‘odds.’”
“It's all about probability. It's a game of statistics,” he said.
“What are you getting at, Dr. Everett?” Nathaniel asked.
Hugh smiled. “Not a doctor yet.”
“Sorry. For a minute you sounded just like him.”
“I think I get it,” Ephraim said. “If we send ourselves to more than one universe, distributed so each has only one analog of each of us, maybe they all have a chance of surviving?”
Ephraim felt the first real hope that they actually could make it through this.
“Just a chance,” Hugh said. “From a statistical standpoint, it makes sense to provide an initial pool of universes for the multiverse to choose among. If we pick only one to start with, that runs counter to its tendency to self-select on a preferred basis.”
“Scott would have considered this,” Nathaniel said.
“No, he wouldn't have,” Ephraim said. “Because he had no one he wanted to save badly enough. Maybe the answer lies somewhere between Scott and Dr. Kim's plans. A compromise.”
“You're just looking for justification to save the people in this room,” Nathaniel said.
“Hell, yes,” Jena said. “You say that like there's something wrong with it.”
“But that doesn't invalidate the point,” Hugh said.
“It's no better than the Doc's plan,” Nathaniel said.
“It's no worse than Dr. Kim's plan,” Ephraim said.
“Tell me the truth. Can this actually work, Hugh?” Nathaniel asked.
“Scott doesn't have access to the data we have, and for all his talents and intuition, he's no scientist. Everything remaining equal, so to speak—no coheron drives, no duplicate analogs, and the universes being as dissimilar as possible—the multiverse could sustain a handful of realities. It thrives on diversity as much as individuality—one of its many paradoxes.”
“So let's give it something to work with.” Ephraim cracked his knuckles and sat down at the computer. “It just so happens that we have a diverse selection of universes available today. Here are our options.” Ephraim pointed to one set of coordinates. “The past, circa 1954.” He looked at Everett. “That's your universe.”
Ephraim slid his index finger to the next one down.
“This is the universe in the far future, where Scott and Dr. Kim are. I don't think any of us want to cramp their style in the time they have left together.
“This is the universe we're all in, the present, relatively speaking. And finally…” There were two coordinates left.
“Our universes,” Zoe said. “The present for me, Jena, Ephraim, and Dick.”
“Crap,” Ephraim said. The numbers were almost identical. Despite the big differences in each universe, as far as the multiverse was concerned, they were interchangeable. “We can only keep one of those, or risk them merging with each other.”
“Damn,” Dick said.
Hugh cleared his throat. “Jena, I don't suppose you would consider coming back with me?”
“To 1954?” Jena asked. “Are you asking me out?”
“It was just an idea,” Hugh said.
“I don't know,” she said. “I'd have a lot to get used to. Women didn't have equal rights. Asians didn't have it easy back then either. There's no Internet.”
“Perhaps you would change that,” he said. “I'm quite convinced you can accomplish anything you want to.”
“You're not seriously considering this, Jena?” Ephraim asked. “I know you have some romantic ideal of the fifties—”
“It's more than that. I mean, I do want to go to a real sockhop, and see one of those drive-in restaurants with the waitresses on roller-skates. And ooh, drive-in movies! But when we were back there, I felt free and excited and…useful,” Jena said.
“More than I've felt in a long time. There was this amazing sense of change. Like anything was possible. I already know things will get better, and maybe I can play a part in creating a new future.”
“You're most remarkable, Jena,” Hugh said.
She smiled. “I'd like to go with you,” she said. She turned to Ephraim and Zoe. “The present is for you two. Don't waste it.” She looked pointedly at Doug. Ephraim blushed.
Zoe abruptly grabbed Jena in a hug. Jena was startled, but she returned the gesture. After a moment, she started to squirm.
“This feels kind of weird,” Jena said. “Could we maybe stop?”
They broke off the awkward embrace and grinned at each other.
“We should vote on this,” Nathaniel said.
“Don't we all prefer living?” Hugh said. “I'm prepared to take the selfish road and hope for the best.”
“I don't have a better idea,” Zoe said.
“It's worth a shot,” Nathan said.
“We have to hear from one more person. The one who has the biggest stake in our decision.” Nathaniel crouched to look Doug in the eyes. “What do you want, Doug? One universe or four?”
The boy blinked at him.
Ephraim leaned over and whispered in Doug's ear. “How old are you?”
The boy held up four fingers. “Four!” he said.
“You heard him,” Ephraim said. “Four universes.”
“You cheated,” Nathaniel said. “He didn't answer the question.”
“He didn't understand the question. Dr. Kim changed her mind and took a huge risk because she wanted Doug to have a future. This is the closest thing to the only home he's ever had. He doesn't even have proper parents anymore. Do you want to take even more from him?”
Nathaniel eyed Doug. Ephraim tickled the boy's belly, and Doug laughed, squirming away.
“He's so freaking cute,” Nathaniel said.
“Shall we make it unanimous, old man?” Ephraim asked.
“Fine,” Nathaniel said. “We'll try it your way. But if you're wrong and the multiverse fizzles out, I'm going to say I told you so.”
Ephraim took Zoe's hand. “One more thing to settle. Your place or mine?”
“No contest. Yours,” she said. “It has no war, no draft, and a better library.”
“Are you sure?” Ephraim asked. “Zoe, once we erase the coordinates to your universe, that's it.”
She covered her mouth. “We may not have a choice anyway. I just remembered something. Does any record of a universe count?”
“Digital or physical,” Hugh said.
“Don't tell us there's a napkin at your house with your universe's coordinates scribbled on it,” Ephraim said.
Zoe turned her right wrist out to display her barcode tattoo. He hadn't gotten this close a look at it before, but now he realized that it had ten digits. The numbers were familiar…
He checked the screen between them. It was one of their five choices.
“So much for that,” Ephraim said. “I guess we're going to Zoe's universe.”
Zoe shook her head.
“We could cut her arm off,” Nathan said.
“Nathan!” Jena said.
“Or burn the tattoo off,” Nathan said.
“Ephraim—” Zoe said.
“Don't worry. You aren't losing your arm,” Ephraim said.
“I know,” Zoe said. She put a hand over his on the mouse and gently guided the cursor to the second set of coordinates: 101.899.3441. “These are the coordinates for my universe.”
He compared them to the numbers on her arm again. 1018993212.
“My universe?” he asked.
“I wanted to be sure I could always find you,” Zoe said.
Jena sniffled. “Jeez,” she said. “I must be allergic to something.”
“Romance?” Nathan asked.
Dick crossed his arms. “I hate to break up this lovefest, but aren't we almost out of time?”
“We have three minutes,” Ephraim said.
“So who gets me?” Dick asked.
“You could go with Jena and Hugh.” Ephraim grimaced.
Behind Dick, Jena waved her hands and shook her head vigorously.
“Nah. What would I do in the fifties?” Dick asked.
Nathaniel leaned forward. “You could stay here.”
“Hmmm. Let me think. No,” Dick said.
“I could use help raising Doug. And maybe it'd be good for you, too,” Nathaniel said.
“I assumed Doug was coming with us,” Ephraim said. The boy looked close to tears.
“You aren't ready for a son,” Nathaniel said.
“Thank God,” Zoe said.
Ephraim raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, maybe one day,” she said. “Sure. But I can't be a mom now.”
“He should be with his father,” Ephraim said. “Or a reasonable facsimile.”
“Dick's close enough,” Nathaniel said.
“Fine. I'll stay. At least you can stop calling me Dick when I'm the only Ephraim around,” Dick said.
“Don't bet on it. I have a hard time adjusting to change,” Nathaniel said.
Ephraim knelt and drew Doug to him. “Bye, kid. I'll miss you.”
“You're leaving?” Doug asked. His lower lip quivered.
“I have to go. But you'll be in good hands here.” Ephraim kissed Doug on the forehead. “Just listen to Uncle Nathaniel.”
He pried Doug's arms from him and pushed him gently to Nathaniel.
Jena embraced Ephraim next. “I'll miss you, Eph.”
“Is this what you really want?” he murmured.
“Yes. He may not be the cutest guy I've ever known, but he's definitely the smartest. Besides, we've all got to go somewhere.” She kissed Ephraim on the cheek, then stepped aside to let Hugh come up.
Hugh and Ephraim shook hands.
“Good luck,” Ephraim said. “Don't let this happen again, okay? Maybe you can go into a safer line of work, like video games.”
“What are video games?” Hugh asked.
“You'll like them. Jena will explain. Just don't build any more coherence devices.”
“Consider us duly warned.”
Jena picked up the controller and flipped it open. Ephraim dropped Scott's token into it, and she punched in the numbers for Hugh's reality from the computer screen.
“We only have one controller, but we can use it to program both coins. This one's set for 1954.” Jena pulled the token out of the controller. “Ow! Hot!”
She dropped it quickly into her pocket. “I'll hand it to Hugh downstairs. We don't want to shift from up here. It's a ten-story drop.”
Hugh called the elevator.
“Don't forget to destroy that coin when you get there,” Nathaniel said.
Jena nodded. “We'll take it straight to Mount Doom.”
The elevator arrived. “Okay. I guess this is good-bye.” She looked at Zoe. “Take care of Eph. He's too dumb to live, a lot of the time.”
“I will,” Zoe said.
Jena and Hugh linked hands and stepped into the elevator. The doors closed.
Dick handed his coin to Ephraim. “This belongs to you,” he said.
Ephraim pocketed it and checked his watch. “Three minutes.” He nodded to Nathaniel. “As soon as we're clear, delete the coordinates of all but the four universes we decided on.”
Nathaniel crushed him in a hug. “You're a good kid, Ephraim.” He grinned. “A good man.”
“You aren't bad yourself, old-timer.”
Zoe stepped up and kissed Nathaniel on the lips. “'Good-bye, Scarecrow. I'll miss you most of all.'”
Nathaniel touched his lips. His face flushed.
“Do I get one of those too?” Nathan asked.
“Loser,” Zoe said.
Nathan shook Nathaniel's hand. “See you, man.”
“In about twenty-five years. Enjoy our youth.”
“I'm sorry we didn't get to talk more. There's a lot I wanted to as
k you.”
“On your nineteenth birthday,” Nathaniel said. “And it's amazing.”
Nathan smiled broadly. “I look forward to it.”
“Good luck, Ephraim,” Dick said.
“You too, Ephraim.” Ephraim smiled.
Dick leaned closer. “If your girlfriend's anything like my universe's Jena, she'll like it if you nibble—”
“We have to go,” Zoe said. She grabbed Ephraim's hand and pulled him into the elevator. Nathan scooted in after them.
They gathered in the shadow of the vertical disc embedded in front of the statue of Atlas.
“That'll be fun to clean up,” she said. She ran a hand against it. “Cold,” she said.
The three of them stood in front of it, studying their reflections in the sheer surface.
“This is it,” Ephraim said. He flipped his coin and caught it.
Zoe held out the controller, and Ephraim slid the coin in. She typed in the coordinates of Ephraim's universe, and double-checked them against her tattoo. The metal disc lifted and rotated.
“Okay, it's programmed for your universe,” she said. “I'm erasing the controller's memory now.”
“When we left, we didn't have any analogs back home. Let's hope that's still true,” Ephraim said.
They linked their arms together, and Ephraim grabbed the coin for the last time.
“Bamf!” Nathan said as they shifted.
As soon as they arrived in front of the fountain at Greystone Park, Zoe threw the controller to the ground as hard as she could. It bounced and broke into two halves still connected by wires and cables. She stomped on it with her foot, and the case cracked and splintered further.
He and Zoe stomped the pieces over and over again until the case's metal guts were strewn all over the courtyard.
The people sitting on the benches or in the middle of an afternoon stroll gaped at them.
“Good afternoon,” Ephraim said. He, Nathan, and Zoe scooped up the broken fragments of the controller and dumped them in the fountain for good measure.
Ephraim trailed his hand in the cool water. The sunlight glinted on the coins on the bottom of the fountain. He was tempted to toss his own coin in there, but he had other plans for it.
Nathan stared glumly into the burbling fountain with his hands in his pockets. This smaller-scale Atlas still carried a weight on his shoulders, but to Ephraim, his expression no longer looked pained but joyful.
