by Mari Mancusi
I shake my head. Dangerous or not, it's my only ticket home. What, do I want to hang out here for the rest of my life? I need to get back to my world as soon as possible and put all this behind me.
We enter the awaiting hover-car and zoom back to Duske's mansions. He leads me up the stairs, down a hall, and into a long passageway similar to the one at Moongazer Station. He stops in front of a red door with a crescent moon carved into the metal.
"Here we are," he says. `Are you ready to look into the moon, Skye?" he sneers, quoting the Moongazer promos. What once seemed an innocent slogan now fills me with dread.
I draw in a breath, remember this is the only way home. "I am.'
He hands me a small piece of paper with a Web site url scribbled on it. "When you have your photos, upload them to this site. That way I'll know you're ready to journey back to Terra, and I will activate the retrieval program."
Are you sure you really need me to do this?" I ask. "I mean, there's no one else?"
Duske puts his hands on my shoulders and leans forward, kissing me once on each cheek. "You are my chosen one, Skye," he says reverently. "You will be a great symbol of Earth to all the people of Terra. You'll be a symbol of a better life."
I stifle a sigh, trying to push down the worry gnawing at my stomach. But I'm going back home, I remind myself. That's what's important. I'll worry about the photo thing later.
Duske presses his thumb against a sensor. It beeps once, and then the door swings open. It's time to look into the moon.
My cell phone was ringing. I opened my eyes, blinking the sleep away. I'd never been so happy to hear to hear the silly Star Wars-themed ring tone in all my life. I sat up in bed and looked around, gratefully taking in the cozy familiarity of my bedroom.
I let out a breath. It was all a dream. All one crazy, messed-up, freakish, ridiculously long dream.
Hallelujah.
Though ... how did I get here? Last thing I remember was being in the VIP section of Luna. Had I had some sort of blackout? I wasn't even drinking. I'd better
go see a doctor tomorrow. What if I had a brain tumor or something?
Still, nothing could eclipse my joy of escaping the crazy, messed-up nightmare world I'd been trapped in. I felt like singing. Shouting. Jumping up and down. My bed. My books. My computer. My teddy bear Melvin. All here. I was back. I was free.
The answering machine clicked on.
"Skye? It's Craig. Guess you're asleep. I just wanted to check in on you since you left Luna so suddenly. Where are you?" He paused and I searched for the phone, unable to find the cordless receiver in the dark bedroom. "Please, call me the second you get this. I'm worried about you."
The machine clicked again, indicating the end of the message. I crawled out of bed and fumbled for the light switch. I'd better call him back before he sends out the National Guard. So, I left Luna suddenly? That was odd. And why didn't the phone wake me up before? Was I in that much of a deep sleep? Did I get dosed with something?
I found the switch and flicked it, flooding the room with warm light. Momentarily blinded, I rubbed my eyes. I was going to look great tomorrow at work. All bloodshot and black circles for sure. I glanced in the mirror for confirmation, dreading to see the state of my face.
My heart stopped.
Mirror girl stared back at me, her expression reflecting my horror.
Because instead of the typical boxer shorts and t-shirt ensemble I usually wore, I was wearing a gown. A gown that in reality shouldn't exist.
6
Half a box of No-Doz, a full carafe of coffee, and three Diet Pepsis later, I found myself buzzed and bleary as I dressed for work. It was eight a.m. I'd thought I'd been exhausted yesterday, but there was no way in hell I was going to risk shutting my eyes and returning to the crazy world of my dreams. The one where I was able to somehow bring dresses back with me.
I jumped into a cold shower-of course no hot water today of all days-and tried to ignore my pounding heart and shaking hands as I went through the routine of washing my hair. Hopefully work would be a better distraction. I had a lot going on. I'd been given a list of bugs to work out before our launch, and I had to get them done today. That promised to be real fun on no sleep. And how was I supposed to concentrate on reality? All I could think of was my nightmare come to life.
I got out of the shower and towel-dried myself, then headed into the bedroom to change. My eyes fell to the dress, which I'd hung in my closet. There had to be some logical explanation. Maybe I'd bought it on my way home. Or I'd drunkenly switched clothes with someone at the club. Because what other explanation could there be besides the obvious-and unbelievable-one: that I had somehow traveled to an alternate reality and brought the dress back myself?
I was cracking up. Had to be. Maybe instead of heading to work I should check myself into some psych ward. Don a straitjacket, swallow some hardcore antipsychotics. Drool in a padded corner for the next six years. Didn't sound like a terrible plan at the moment.
I arrived at work fifteen minutes late and headed straight to my office and closed the door behind me. Sitting down behind my desk I dialed my voice mail, praying for additional distractions. Judging from the typical voice mails I usually got, I was betting this would do the trick.
Beep!
"Hey, Skye, it's Suzy! Did you have any luck at Luna last night? I'm still on the island, so, like, call my cell, okay?"
Beep!
Ugh. Erase.
Beep!
"Two days, Skye. Two days."
Beep!
Wait! What was that? My heart thudded against my chest as I pressed 2 to repeat the last message. Except, in my fright, my finger slipped and I hit 3 instead. Which wouldn't be a big deal except that 3 was the erase button.
Shit, shit! How could I undo? I frantically began pressing random buttons. Why oh why didn't I pay attention when the receptionist was giving me the new voice mail system demo last week?
"Good-bye," the cheerful computerized female voice chirped before disconnecting.
"No! No good-bye!" I cried, banging a fist against the phone keypad. I must have hit '9'-the disconnect button-by accident. Damn it! What was that message? Was it from him? It had said "two days." It sounded just like his voice. It had to be from him. But he was in the other world. Wasn't he? How could he access my voice mail?
I fought the urge to crawl under my desk and hide as I glanced around the office. Was Duske here? Did he know where I worked? Would he really come after me if I didn't provide him with photos?
Everyone was going about their business seemingly without a care in the world. It was only me with my heart in my throat, ready to jump out my office window in an inane chance at escape. I took a deep breath. What was I going to do?
Take the photos.
I froze. The command seemed to be coming from inside my head.
Take the photos.
Again, more insistent.
"Fine. I'll take the stupid photos," I muttered. "I'll do everything I'm supposed to. And in two days, when I don't get magically flown back to Terra, I'll know for sure, once and for all, that this was just one big, bad, crazy dream."
"What's a dream?"
I looked up from my desk to see that my boss, Madeline, had entered my office just in time to catch the end of my crazy rambling.
"The idea of getting all these bugs worked out of the game before release date," I answered, lacing my voice with the appropriate level of sarcasm.
Madeline sat down in the armchair across from my desk, folding her hands in her lap. She'd founded ChixOr five years ago, after becoming disenchanted by all the sex-laced trash-talk commonly heard on guy-centric online role-playing games. She'd imagined a virtual world where girls could feel safe strapping on a sword and contributing to the community with no fear of being smacked down by an arrogant metal mouthed fourteen-year-old boy who, in real life, would never be able to get a real girl to acknowledge his existence.
"Are you okay, Skye?" she asked,
peering at me through her black-rimmed glasses. "I don't mean to sound critical, but the last instance you created had more bugs than a New Orleans motel room."
I hung my head. Madeline was the coolest boss in the universe and I hated letting her down more than anything. After all, as she'd said so many times, we weren't just coworkers here at ChixOr. We were family.
"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just ... I've been having this horrible insomnia lately. And when I do fall asleep I have these crazy dreams. I wake up feeling like I've been run over by a truck."
Madeline nodded sympathetically. "Prerelease jitters," she concluded. "Don't worry, kiddo, your work is great. It's gonna win every design award in the book this year. And we're in the home stretch. Just got to buckle down now and get through the next two weeks. Then we'll be able to relax a bit."
I threw her a halfhearted smile. Prerelease jitters? If only it were that simple.
"Yeah, you're probably right," I said, not wanting to go into it any further. "I'll get through somehow."
"I know you will." Madeline smiled. "Now, I wanted to talk to you about your redesign of the knight class's talent tree. Can you pull up a character for a second?"
I logged into RealLife and repositioned my monitor so she could see the screen. I selected Allora, my character. She was right where I'd left her the last time I played: in the bar. She turned and looked out from the game, as if she could see us watching her, then broke out into a big smile and waved a greeting.
"She likes you," Madeline commented. "You must treat her well."
I smiled. It was so cool how lifelike the characters were. "I like her, too. She's very kick-ass."
"Okay, now take her outside and have her attack something."
"Oh, you've opened up new terrain?"
Madeline nodded. Evidently the other designers had been hard at work during my mental collapse.
I obeyed my boss's directive, using the keyboard and mouse to run Allora outside the limits of the city of Mare Tranquilitatis and into the frozen tundra of Serenitatis. The other designers had been working hard, adding weather effects, so the scene looked like it was really snowing out. Very cool. I led Allora down the hill, off the safe road, and into the wild. A moment later, a bandit troll jumped on her, initiating the game's fight mode. On my command, Allora whipped out her sword and started swinging.
"This is all good," Madeline commented, leaning forward to get a better view of the screen. "But now, show me her finishing move."
I clicked the hot key to have her execute her special move. Each class had one built in: a deadly last strike designed to finish off one's opponent. I'd programmed Allora to fall to the ground and slash out to cut off the monster's feet, leaving him incapacitated and unable to run away. It was a very dramatic, visual finishing move, and I was pretty proud of it.
"Hmm."
I glanced at Madeline. She didn't look quite as impressed. She sat back in her chair and rubbed her chin with one hand. I noticed she had a moon tattoo between her thumb and forefinger. Was everyone in on this new trend? And why did it have to be a moon? "Yeah, we're going to have to fix that."
I scrunched my eyebrows. "But why? It's so cool looking!"
"Sure, it's cool-looking. But it doesn't make any sense in the rules of chivalry. True knights fight within a strict set of protocols. They have an inborn sense of honor. They would not suddenly turn rogue and slash out with such a cheap move."
"Well, they should consider it," I argued. "If it helps them defeat their opponent."
"But then it would be a battle fought with no honor," Madeline explained. "I d have no problem with you giving that move to a rogue character. They're supposed to be sneaky and underhanded. But I won't have knights fighting dishonorably. You need to stick with the world-building."
I sighed, knowing there was no use arguing. Once Madeline had something in her head, she'd never be persuaded otherwise.
"Okay, I'll come up with something else," I said, running Allora back into the city. "Something more honorable."
"I know you will." My boss rose to her feet. She stared at me for a moment, then said, "But why don't you take the rest of the day off? You look like shit."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Definitely. Even I know that RealLife has to take a backseat to real life once in a while," she quipped. "But get your ass in tomorrow and be prepared to dive back into this."
"I will," I promised, grateful for the reprieve. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."
"No problem, kiddo. Now get some rest." And with that, Madeline turned and headed out of my office, closing the door behind her.
I sent Allora back into the bar and got her some cake to eat. She gratefully shoveled it into her mouth, glancing up at me from time to time with gratitude.
"Okay, I'm going to log you out now," I told her. "I've got to go take some photos."
The hot dog man. The Statue of Liberty. The camels at the Bronx Zoo. The maple trees in Central Park. The carousel on Coney Island. I shot them all. Close-up, panoramic, artsy, straight. Duske wanted photos? He'd get his photos. And then maybe he could leave me the hell alone so I could get back to my life.
I arrived back at my apartment around five and headed straight to my computer to start uploading. Maybe I'd get bonus points for turning in the photos a day early. At the very least I could get this assignment off my plate.
My cell phone rang just as I began the upload-the sudden burst of the Star Wars ring tone caused me to nearly jump out of my skin, my heart skipping like a broken record. Was it him?
With trembling fingers I reached into my bag and pulled out the phone. Relief washed over me as I recognized the name on the caller ID. Just Craig. Thank God.
"Hey, Craig," I said, selecting the photos out of my My Pictures folder. If only he knew what I was trying to do. He'd be sending the men in white coats over as we spoke.
"Hey, Skye, where have you been?" he asked, sounding concerned. "I thought I saw you at Luna last night, but then you disappeared."
I swallowed a bitter laugh. Disappeared? He was more right than he knew.
"And then I tried your cell a dozen times, but you didn't pick up."
"Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't feeling well and decided to go home about five minutes after I got there. I, um, came home and crashed hard-core."
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line and then: "But I came by your place after my shift." Uh-oh. Thank God I'd never given him a key.
"Like I said, I really crashed. You know, not having had a good night's sleep in ages. I don't think stampeding elephants could have woken me last night."
"You sure you just didn't have another guy over or something?" Craig asked. His voice was only half teasing.
I forced myself to laugh, trying to push a sudden image of Dawn out of my mind. After all, being brutally kissed by dream guys in post apocalyptic alleyways didn't count as cheating, did it?
"No, no. Nothing as exciting as all that," I lied. "Just lots of drooling on my pillow"
Craig's laugh sounded more genuine this time. "Okay, okay," he relented. "So, what are you up to now?"
Oh, not much. Just playing alternate reality travel agent to the post apocalyptic crowd... .
"Oh, not much, just doing some work on the old computer."
"Want me to come over?"
"Urn..." I glanced at the clock. Did I want him to come over? Not really. I'd have much preferred to curl up in a ball and sleep for the next forty-eight hours. But that wasn't really an option. Duske told me after the photo upload, he'd be calling me back to Terra. And when/if that happened, I wanted a witness this time. Someone to let me know exactly what happened after I blacked out and woke up in Terra. Did my body literally disappear with my mind, sucked into some kind of alternate reality wormhole? Or did I fall into a coma like sleep and only travel in my dreams?
"Skye? Are you still there?"
"Yeah," I replied, making my decision. "And sure. Come on over whene
ver you can."
"Great." I could hear his relief. Poor guy. My mental collapse had to be hard on him as well. "I'm not far from your place, actually. I'll be there in, like, ten minutes. Want me to pick up something from Maria for dinner?" he asked, naming my favorite Japanese vegetarian take-out spot.
"Oh, yum. Yes. I'm totally in the mood for their yakisoba," I told him. And add in an order of edamame as well, okay? See you soon." I hung up the phone and set it down next to my computer in case he called back for clarification of my food order. Poor guy. All things considered, he'd been pretty patient through my ongoing mental collapse. Cheerful, loyal, supportive. Even when I'd been nothing but a pain in the ass.
I decided to make a resolution. Once I proved this dream-Terra thing was all fake, all a delusion of my overworked brain, then I would move on with my life and take my relationship with Craig to the next level. He was a good, decent guy, and he loved me. I was lucky to have him. Sure, there weren't a lot of fireworks when we came together these days, but that was bound to happen eventually in any long-term relationship. The stupid hormones faded and you learned to simply cohabit with your best friend. Those people who always sought out new excitements and new relationships were just setting themselves up for a lifetime of heartache and pain. Yes, in the end it was much better to find a solid guy who paid his share of the bills on time and would never think of cheating on you.
Of course at that moment my brain decided to betray my best intentions with a flash-bake memory of Dawn's lips crushing mine, claiming my mouth as his own. I shivered as I couldn't help but relive the all consuming fire sparked by his possessive touch
those aforementioned "stupid hormones" instantly raging in an all-out conflagration of lust.
Okay, fine, there was something to be said about passion. But it never lasted. And it wasn't the be all and end all in a relationship....
I forced my brain back on task and pressed upload, launching the final photo into cyberspace, wondering, not for the first time, where these pictures were actually being zapped. Perhaps the URL was linked to a sort of interdimensional Photo-Mart where Duske could pick them up in an hour? It seemed insane, of course, but hell, if they could send people to other worlds, I guess photos would be nothing.
