Moongazer

by Mari Mancusi

  The on-screen message confirmed my pictures had been sent. I leaned back in my computer chair, wondering what would happen next. Would Duske e-mail me back? Would he give me a call? Or would I never hear from him again and live out my whole life wondering at the validity of my memory of this adventure? If I had to pick, I'd go for door number three every time.

  But life was no game of "Deal or No Deal," and I didn't get to choose my destiny. A moment later the whole apartment building started to shake, just as Luna had the night before. Flashes of lightning sliced through the air and my stomach rolled as I swam in and out of a blurry, dizzy consciousness.

  Finally, just as before, the darkness came and oblivion gripped me with invisible hands.

  Oh God, here we go again.

  7

  I open my eyes. At least this time I know what to expect, though that doesn't really make the experience any more comforting. A tiny room. Video screens on the four walls, ceiling and floor, all still swirling in a nauseating kaleidoscope of color. Dark glasses on my eyes. Yup, I'm back.

  I smack the wall with the palm of my hand, annoyed beyond belief. I can't believe they dragged me back to this hellhole yet again. At least they could have waited till Craig showed up with dinner. Not that I care about the calories; I'm more concerned with the fact that he's going to think I took off on him again. I imagine him showing up at my door, vegetarian goodies in hand, only to have no one answer the intercom. How long will he wait before giving up? He'll probably end by breaking up with me. I wouldn't blame him if he did, either. I mean, how can I even explain what's happened in a manner that he could possibly begin to believe?

  I shake my head, ripping off my glasses. I've got bigger things to worry about than a boyfriend's disappointment, and I need to concentrate on those. Say, for example, the interdimensional travel I just experienced a moment ago. There's no way I can pretend this is all some kind of weird dream anymore. Whatever's happening to me, it's all real, and I need to deal with it and figure out a way back home. I do not want to be stuck here in Terra for any reason, and I don't want to be dragged back and forth at someone else's whim.

  I push the button in front of me and the booth's front panel slides open with a high-pitched beep. Stepping out into the hallway, I find Duske standing there, right where I left him. How long have I been gone, Terra time-wise? Is it like Narnia in reverse, where twenty-four hours on Earth pass in just a few minutes here? I glance down at myself. I'm still wearing the same dress I wore when I entered the booth. The necklace is back around my neck. And a surreptitious sniff at my armpits tells me I can't have been inside that sweatbox for twenty-four hours. There's definitely something slippery with the way time's working here.

  Duske bows low. "Welcome back, Skye," he says with a flourish of his hand. "It's lovely to see you again, my dear."

  I scowl. I'm not buying his pleasantries this time around. "I'd love to say the same," I counter. "But really, I've got to tell you, I'm not very happy about being dragged back. I was just about to have dinner with my boyfriend and I've got a ton on my plate at work tomorrow. I simply don't have time to take any more field trips." I cross my arms under my breasts and throw him an annoyed look. "I mean, I took your photos like you asked. I uploaded them into the system. So, how about you fulfill your end of the bargain and let me go back to my real life?" I can't believe how confident and cool I sound, considering on the inside I'm totally freaking out.

  Duske smiles patronizingly. "My dear, dear Skye," he coos. "I'm so sorry if I've upset your dinner plans. But I did warn you. Your services are needed at my Moongazing seminar two nights from now. There will be Indys from all over Terra gathered in the Luna Park Auditorium and waiting to hear all about Earth. It will be our biggest, best presentation to date, and I need you there."

  "But why?" I demand. "Why do you need me?"

  "Didn't we already go over all of this?" Duske asks. "You are Terra's first ever ambassador from Earth. You're the only Earthling to ever pass through the interdimensional curtain and visit our little world. Who better to explain the wonders of Earth than a girl who has spent her whole life there?"

  "I see your point," I say, trying to be reasonable. "But I don't think you see mine. I didn't ask for this gig, and I don't have time to take it. I'm sure there are a billion alien-abducted, X-Files freaks on Earth that would simply love an opportunity to travel between worlds and give motivational speeches. I'm simply too busy. I've got a huge deadline at work and my boss is ready to kill me if I don't make it."

  "Yes, yes, you and your important job," Duske says. He's wearing a slight sneer. "Aren't you a video game designer or something?"

  I can feel my face heat, which only serves to annoy me further. I can't stand when people make light of my career. Just because I create fun and games full time doesn't mean my responsibilities and deadlines are frivolous, too. I take my design work as seriously as any doctor would take his patients, and yet everyone I know believes I simply fiddle around with a joystick for a living and that it's fair game to tease me about or simply deem unimportant in the grand scheme of life. Sure, I'm not literally saving lives on the operating table, but consumers will find relaxation, joy, and stress relief when they log in to any game. That will cut down on their ulcers and high blood pressure and perhaps save them from that surgeon's knife in the future. But try to tell anyone that and they'll just start laughing. Whatever.

  "Look, whether you respect my career or not is moot," I retort. "We're talking about my life here, not some game played for your amusement."

  Duske's lips twist, as if he's trying to suppress a smile. I glower at him. What the hell does he find so funny? Then he shakes his head and clears his throat. "I know, I know," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away, not wanting him to touch me. "It's a great inconvenience for you to be here. I understand."

  "Yes. It is. And I'd like to be sent home." I look back to the Moongazing booth. "So, tell me how this thing can zap me to Earth and I'll be on my way."

  "Look. I understand your time is valuable. I do. So, what if I agreed to compensate you for it? Would that make things better?"

  "Compensate?" I look at him skeptically. "What would I do with Terran money?"

  "Play Monopoly?" he suggests. Then he laughs. "Just kidding. I'd give you Earth dollars, of course. American currency. We've been farming Earth for quite some time now. Made some investments, started a few corporations even. We've even started introducing Terran technology to your world. You lot are so far behind us it's like introducing the abacus to apes. No offense."

  "None taken. So, you want to pay me to speak at your seminar? How much are we talking about here?" Not that I can really afford to take the time off work for mercenary reasons, but I have to admit, a freelance project will really help out with this month's rent. And this guy seems pretty well off.

  Duske rubs his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "Hm," he says thoughtfully. I narrow my eyes. He's going to try to lowball me, isn't he? Probably offer me like a hundred bucks or something. Well, no, thank you. I'm not about to get in trouble at work, not to mention screw up my relationship with my boyfriend for a mere "One million dollars."

  I stare at him, eyes wide, doubting my ears, working to stop my jaw from dropping to the floor. Did he just say what I thought? No, that was impossible. And yet...

  "Does that seem too low?" Duske asks, cocking his head. "Hm. How about a million five, then?"

  "One and a half million," I repeat slowly. "In U.S. dollars?" I had to make sure he wasn't confusing our currency with Japanese Yen or anything.

  "Yes. American money. We could deposit it directly into your account so that when you return to Earth it will be waiting for you."

  I give up on the jaw, let it drop. A million dollars? A fucking million dollars? Are you serious?" I have to ask. "You'd really give me over a million dollars just for speaking at your convention?" My mind greedily races with the possibilities a million dollars could afford me. Finally bu
ying that condo. In a doorman building. With an elevator. And a balcony. Laundry in the unit itself. Well, New York ... perhaps the laundry is out of reach.

  Duske shrugs. "Sure, why not? It's a good investment for me. Spending Earth dollars, of which I have many, to earn real money here on Terra. You convince a few families to purchase Earth-relocation packages and I'll be a rich man here on my own world. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

  My mind whirs as I try to make my decision. A million and a half dollars! And all he's asking for is two days of my life. Sure, I'm supposed to get back to work to finish up the game, but what's two more days when I'm already so behind? I can just go back and work twenty-four-seven for the next couple of weeks. Drink a ton of coffee and Diet Coke and skip sleep. I'll have plenty of time to finish things before our official launch, and I can go buy a killer dress for the launch party... .

  If he's telling the truth about the payoff that is. It's very possible, I suppose, that he's making this offer up to appease me and doesn't plan to follow through. How do I know I can trust him? How can I be sure that the money will be waiting for me?

  But, a million dollars! Maybe it's worth gambling for.

  Duske gestures for me to follow him down the hall. "I'll take you to your suite," he says. "I'm sure you'd like to shower and change."

  It's then that I realize I have very little choice in the matter. Whether I accept his money or not, it seems there's no way he's going to send me back to Earth until I give my little speech at his seminar. And arguing with him about it may only cause the monetary offer to be rescinded. All in all, it seems best to play along at least for now. After all, what alternative do I have? It's not like I can just click my heels three times. (Though, how cool would that be if I could?)

  I tune back in, resigned to accept my fate. At least temporarily.

  "And I do apologize," Duske is saying, "but I must insist you remain in your assigned room until after the convention. It's too dangerous for you to be wandering out and about in Luna Park. Those vile Eclipsers may try to kidnap you again to further their pathetic rebellion." He snorts, making it clear what he thinks of them.

  The Eclipsers. In all of this craziness I'd nearly forgotten them. Glenda and her gang claim they are the ones who dragged me to this godforsaken world in the first place. What did they think when they arrived at Dawn's house and found it empty? Discovered the framed photo of Mariah lying shattered on the ground? Did they think I'd been kidnapped? Or did they conclude I'd taken off willingly? Do they know I'm with Duske now? Or do they assume I jumped back to my own world, unwilling to play their reindeer games?

  My mind flashes to Dawn's scowling face. At least now he can go around telling the Eclipsers that he was right and they were wrong. Especially once they hear that I'll be speaking at an actual pro-Moongazing seminar in two days. He'll believe that his precious Mariah betrayed the revolution a second time.

  I frown and hasten my step to match Duske's long strides. Well, there is nothing I can do about that. Had I really been Mariah, I'm sure things would have been different. But they dragged out the wrong girl. Not my fault. I'm not a revolutionary Not a rebel leader. So really, what good can I do if I stay down below in their cave world and join their rebellion?

  Still, my guilty brain lectures, you didn't have to go as far as to start helping the other side. I mean, what if the crazy guy with the placard is right? What if traveling between worlds-Moongazing-is a dangerous, even deadly, pastime that will ultimately destroy those who practice it? What if my promoting Earth travel to the masses ends up the equivalent of leading sheep to the slaughter? Am I selling out the people of Terra for a million dollars?

  That's stupid, I tell myself. Why would the government fund and promote a program that would lead to the deaths of their citizens? Totally counterproductive. Besides, I've 'Gazed twice now. I feel completely fine. And the great Mariah herself, the one they're all in love with, is a 'Gazer. They're probably just annoyed that she left them high and dry to go live a better life. Sure, that was pretty shitty of her, but it doesn't make the program deadly and dangerous.

  Swallowing my doubts, I follow my host down the hall and up another flight of red carpeted stairs, gripping the golden banister. At top of the stairs, we come to a door. Duske presses the sensor with his thumb and it slides open. I step over the threshold into an elegant, well-lit room. It's done up in gold and mauve, a canopy bed draped with gauzy curtains serving as its centerpiece. There's a flat-panel TV hanging on the far wall of the room, several armchairs and coffee tables, and a sliding glass door leads out to a balcony. The room smells of rose petals, and dozens of flickering candles on every surface give it a sparkly glow.

  "I trust this will suit your needs?" Duske asks.

  I nod. It's tempting to be swept away by the luxury, but at the same time I can't get the Dark Siders out of my head. Those sick, mutated people. Their stores of moldy bread and tiny cave like dwellings. Their desperate poverty and helplessness makes this opulence seem obscene. How can people be content to live like this when they know others are suffering one level down?

  "Yeah, I guess it'll do," I reply, glancing over at my host. I catch him staring at me, his eyes fixated on my chest. I squirm, suddenly uncomfortable. The guy really is quite the perv. I need to get him out of here before he gets the wrong idea or something. "Urn, did you need anything else from me?" I ask, lamely.

  He smiles. "Only if you want it, my dear."

  Gross. As If I'd touch this guy with a ten foot pole. I mean, sure he's good-looking, but he's so slimy. And he's dragged me here against my will. Does he really think that will win my affections or turn me on? No freaking way.

  "I, um, think I'm all set," I say, bobbing my head enthusiastically, hoping he'll get the hint. "In fact, I think I'll take a nap before dinner. I'm pretty beat." I fake a yawn to make my excuses more realistic. "So I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?"

  I watch as annoyance shadows Duske's face for half a second; then he shakes it away and offers me a large smile. "Very well, Sister Skye," he says, bowing at the waist. "I will leave you then. If you get hungry, just activate the intercom and Brother Thom will bring up some supper." He backs out of the room and the door slides closed behind him, clicking shut with a high-pitched beep. Instinctively, I try to reopen it. Locked, of course.

  I wander around the room, examining everything, but find nothing out of the ordinary. It looks just like any other luxury bedroom you might find on Earth. I switch on the television and am surprised to see Casablanca pop onto the screen. Bogart's telling Bergman they'll always have Paris. I watch, fascinated. It's kind of creepy how alike Earth and Terra are. Pop culture, movies, coffeehouse chains. Were the two worlds once exactly the same until one day there was a decision to make-a red button to press or not? Could one fateful action have caused Terra to spin off its projected course and onto a skewed path of apocalyptic destruction? But then how did my Earth manage to avoid it? Or is Terra's underground wasteland something we have to look forward to in our future? And if Terra is a future Earth, why are they still reliving our past culture hundreds of years later?

  I wonder what Terrans think of Earth when they arrive. When they first open their eyes and see sunshine, grass, flowers, dogs, cats-everything that makes Earth's present reality superior to their own. When they first see the mighty ocean waves crashing to shore. When they watch their first bald eagle soaring majestically through the sky. When they climb up the Empire State Building and gaze down at their vast new world. When they realize they can now live aboveground without getting sick. It must be thrilling, but at the same time incredibly frightening. Are they forming their own close-knit Terran societies as American immigrants have done for centuries, carving out small neighborhoods to inhabit and keeping with their own traditions? Or are they adapting, blending in with the rest of us, making Earth friends, marrying Earth people?

  I find myself laughing. Homeland Security is so worried about closing the Mexican borders. Ima
gine if they knew there were interdimensional illegal aliens living among us!

  In a way, Moongazing makes a lot of sense. Especially if the Terran world really is as overcrowded as Duske claims. If you have the option, why not emigrate to a better world? And if they bring all their superior technology with them, we'll benefit from the relocation as well.

  So then, why are the Eclipsers against it? Are they just jealous because they're not on the guest list? Or could there be something more sinister lying beneath the surface of this alternative reality trip?

  It's all too much to think of now, so I continue my exploration of my room, opening the wardrobe door and revealing a closet full of clothes. Anxious to get out of my beautiful but scratchy evening gown, I select a black cotton tunic and a pair of leggings and change clothes. Much more comfortable. I'm just slipping on a pair of black boots when a knock sounds at the door.

  "Come in," I call, wondering who it could be.

  Brother Thom steps in, a silver tray of covered dishes in his hands. He sets the tray down on the dresser and pulls off several covers to reveal a meal of a burger and French fries, with a piece of chocolate cake for dessert. At first I'm about to protest the non-vegetarian selection, but then remember there's no meat here on Terra.

  Must be soy or something. My mouth waters as the rich smell fills the room. I got pulled back to Terra before dinner and now I'm starving.

  "Thanks," I say gratefully, walking over to the table and selecting a long fry. I pop it in my mouth. Salty and delicious.

  "You are most welcome, Sister," Thom says in an overloud voice. "1 hope you enjoy it." Then he throws a furtive glance around the room and lowers his tone to a barely audible whisper. "Don't worry," he hisses. "We've got a plan in place. They'll come for you soon. Get you out."