“To our surprise and regret,” my copy sighed. “It made the task more complicated and took more time than we had expected.
“What task? What time?” My anger grew into frustration. I wanted to throw something.
“Time to start our plan, of course. Plan to change your life.”
“What did you plan?” I hit my fists and jumped up, hitting the coffee table with my knees. The candles moved and one fell on the floor. And now there are three. “You can’t make plans for our lives!”
My copy showed me the phone-remote.
“This button will bring my guards here in a second. I’m not very humane and if you’re not patient, you will die without the knowledge. You want to know about the plan, right?”
I clenched my teeth, squeezed my fists, and sat back down. Anger boiled inside me. I took the bottle and finished the water even though I wanted to finish the woman in front of me.
My copy stood up, looked out the window, half closed the drapes, and returned to her seat. She drank her coffee, put her cup to the side, and only then she looked at me.
“My husband told you I was dead. I’m surprised he talked to you at all. How did he explain it to you? In what context?”
I was quiet for a few seconds. Aside from my hatred toward the woman sitting across from me, for her self-righteousness, permissiveness, arrogance and so on, I digested Ray’s lies again. It wasn’t my Ray. My Ray wouldn’t sink so low. But I had sex with him! And shared my thoughts! It was so embarrassing now. I thought he loved me, but he just used me. My Ray had no idea about my feelings. He kept living his life without thinking about where I was or what I was doing.
“You’re not going to answer?”
I shook my head.
“Ah … He …” I rubbed my eyes with my fingers. “He said his wife died and he couldn’t live through his loss. That’s why he met me. Broke the rules.” I said it with my voice lowered. I was so tired. I wanted to roll into a ball in this chair and fall asleep. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. I had such modest wishes, but they couldn’t be fulfilled.
“He met you?” My copy narrowed her eyes. “In the corporation?”
“At … At my planet.” I wanted to sleep so badly. My eyelids felt like somebody was pressing on them with their hands, my head felt stuck in some really tight helmet. My silly head had an ache.
My copy gazed at me silently for a minute or more. Then she ran her hand over her hair, licked her lips, rubbed her temples, and looked inside the empty cup. A china cup from my planet; ordered and purchased. Who carried out those orders? I probably knew the answer.
We didn’t talk and I even had time to return to the past. To the only time when Ray and I had danced together. It was a corporate party. New Year’s, or maybe not. I almost fainted when he put his arms around my waist and I put my hands on his shoulders. So close. I smelled his cologne even though it mostly faded by the evening. I felt his muscles under his shirt. I felt heat coming from his body, his hands burning my skin through the dress. I couldn’t look into his eyes and couldn’t wait for the music to finish. He would understand everything if I even glanced at him. I remembered what song it was. You Are So Beautiful. The sensual melody, piercing to the bones, arousing passion that was difficult to control. I didn’t raise my eyes. My stubbornness and pride overpowered my desire.
“Sam,” he whispered, leaning to my ear. His breath burnt the skin. I didn’t say anything back, stepping from foot to foot in a slow dance, holding my hands tightly on his shoulders.
“Don’t you see?” His whisper again. “Don’t you understand? Don’t you feel?”
Say something! Something! My conscience screamed. You want it. You know. You feel!
I didn’t say anything. Damn stubbornness and irreverent pride.
I was glad for the darkness in the hall; otherwise everyone would see my glowing face. It usually didn’t react to any type of stimulation, including embarrassment.
“You should feel it,” he said. “You should understand that I don’t see anyone but you. Don’t you feel anything for me at all?”
He just can’t accept the fact that you don’t jump into his bed as the others do, I assured myself. I couldn’t trust in the sincerity of his words. He’d known what to say to a woman so she would lose her resistance and surrender to his will lock, stock and barrel.
“You’re doing everything right,” he said when the music was about to end. His hands on my back lost their tension. “You’re good. You don’t have to tell me anything. Forget about it.”
I lost my last chance. The dance was over and he left the party without saying goodbye to me or meeting my eyes. My terrible nature played a bad joke on me. I made a big mistake. Now, when I met him accidentally (so I thought), I wanted to make everything right. I thought I could make everything right and jumped into the abyss, giving in to the impulse. I wanted to turn back time and didn’t notice that he was just imitation. How could I be so blind and confuse that calculating bastard with the person I loved? This cold, heartless, indifferent man was nothing like my Ray, but I let him use me, so he could carry on with his plan.
“What plan?” I mumbled, still lost in my thoughts. I didn’t get here because of the carelessness or intrigue of the government from the parallel universe. I’d gotten here because my copy planned it, along with her husband. He, by the way, cheated on her with me. Did they count cheating with a person from my planet as something serious? Was sex with me part of the plan she’d created? Or was it a combination of work and pleasure for him?
“Plan,” my copy said thoughtfully, looking at the phone in her hand. “Yes … plan. Plan was almost successful. It didn’t include your escape. It happened because we didn’t take your potential into consideration. I decided it would be interesting to meet you. It is interesting to meet a double and see the difference. Great difference. You’re stronger than I thought. You can hide your feelings very well.”
You have no idea how well.
“What plan?” I repeated, digesting new information and comparing it to the events in the corporation. Nothing connected, because something was missing. Did this woman know that her husband helped me to escape? Why did he do it? What was going to happen if she found out?
“I’ll tell you about my father,” my copy said.
I shrugged.
“My father is a great man. He has done a great fady on this planet.
“Yeah. I noticed that. Whatever fady means.”
“I don’t think skepticism is suitable in your situation. My father created a safe environment for our planet. We have a very low crime level.”
“So, you make up the crimes because you’re bored? Your jail is not empty.”
My copy smiled.
“Do you want to listen further or go to onis right now? Onis on your planet—jail.”
“I can wait.”
“It’s a wise decision. I’d like to have a snack. Are you hungry?”
“Like an animal.” I didn’t say that I preferred to die with my stomach full. In this house, they could treat me with something better than in the corporation. White and green mashed something. Bon appetit and don’t you choke.
My copy narrowed her eyes as if thinking over the phrase then picked up her remote/phone.
“The usual,” she said. “Two portions.”
I looked out the window, through the split between the drapes. Twilight turned to darkness, but lanterns illuminated the garden. It was beautiful. This dragon didn’t deserve it.
“My father organized the lottery. First the winnings had only a money equivalent,” my copy started talking again. “Then, when my father and my husband collaborated, we added a trip to Planet Two to the money prize.”
“If you like my planet so much, why don’t you follow our example and copy our lifestyle here, instead of killing us?”
My copy shook her head as if I irritated her.
“You’re naïve. Isn’t it clear? It’s not profitable.”
“Rig
ht.” I nodded. “You’re so right. It’s not difficult to guess. Killing is more profitable.”
“Our regime is … convenient. You should see the positive sides. My husband makes huge money on transfers and replacements, for example.”
“Transfers and replacements are not the same as the trip?”
“Of course not. It’s more like … immigration.”
There was a knock at the door and after my copy allowed entrance, the same young girl walked inside, now holding a tray, followed by an older woman that seemed familiar to me.
The girl put the tray in front of my copy, the older woman – on the coffee table near me. She looked at me and I saw tears in her eyes. I didn’t understand her emotions.
“Get out of here,” my copy said and the women left the room. The older one turned to me once before closing the door.
I checked the tray. Toast smeared with black caviar, smoked salmon wrapped around slices of avocado, thin pieces of white fish, crackers, blue cheese and brie, and champagne bubbled in a narrow glass. All I wanted was pizza with extra cheese and a glass of orange juice, but my stomach roared when the smell of a delicatessen reached my nose. I had to feed it. So, I grabbed a piece of salmon and stuck it in my mouth. Tender, just enough salt, best quality.
“Respectable dinner before death.”
I almost choked and lifted my eyes to my disgusting copy who had said those words. They would sound better in my execution. She sipped champagne, holding the glass under its thin stem.
I forced myself to swallow the food, washed it down with champagne that was dry. I preferred semisweet. Should I act out? It was the last time I could do it. It was a funny scene though. Two Samanthas Bristow repasting in front of each other. One—the personification of evil. The second one wasn’t an angel either, but she couldn’t hold a candle to the first one in the meanness department. Was it possible just to accept it as reality? Was it possible to accept as reality the fact that she wanted to kill me? A second piece of fish went to my mouth.
“I don’t like black caviar much,” I mumbled with my mouth full. “Your champagne—gross. But if you don’t have anything better …”
My copy laughed. I’d known what my laugh was to someone else’s ear, I heard it on video, but hers was repulsive. When she stopped laughing, she’d bitten her toast with caviar.
“I like your food,” she said, swallowing her food before talking, unlike me.
“I can see that.” I wanted to eat everything from the tray, and right away my stomach showed its full potential, but I couldn’t afford to show such weakness. That’s why I took the glass of nasty champagne and leaned on the back of the chair, crossing one of my legs on top of the other. I wore heavy, men’s boots and a shapeless uniform and my copy was in a sexy dress and high heels. Comparison not to my advantage.
“You like everything in my world.” I made an accent on the word my.
“Oh, yes. Why would I lie to you? These two maids are also from your planet.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“As I’ve told you, my husband’s business is transferring and replacement. These two,” a nod toward the door, “are from your planet. We replaced them, but I decided to keep them alive and make them work for me. It’s pretty noble, right? And free help.”
“I don’t think I understood you.” I took a sip of cold champagne and held it in my mouth for a few seconds. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Probably something super expensive. Could be enjoyable. It wasn’t the place or time for enjoyment, but would I have another opportunity? I chuckled to myself. How easily I signed my death sentence.
“To make it short, we replace your people with ours.”
I started to understand the meaning of her words and the scale of the operation. I put the glass on the table.
“Many of our people show interest in moving to Planet Two. Even temporarily,” my copy said, studying the food on the tray. She picked salmon and bit a little piece. “But we can’t just throw them there like helpless kittens. Besides the everyday complications they also have doubles. It’s not very convenient.”
“Sure. How could it be? So, you kill them?” My teeth were clenched.”
“People from our world take their places, flow in their lives. Of course it’s not easy and having the same look is not enough. They need to go deep into their doubles’ characters. They need to learn their habits, connections. We send dozens of agents into your world to study the object thoroughly.
“Object,” I repeated slowly.
“Yes.” My copy swallowed food, wiped her mouth and hands with the blue napkin.
So, that’s what was all that about? That’s what those messages on the stranger’s phone meant.
“You wanted to become me?” I asked.
“I’d never become you.” My copy screwed her lips as if I was the most disgusting creature. “We’re too different. But I plan to move to Planet Two, yes. I will move there. I don’t want to be there permanently. I will live between two universes. I’ll have to rebuild your life gradually, train your friends and family to accept your new lifestyle, so I could get away painlessly.”
Everything inside me shrank, from anger and helplessness. I hated this woman. Because she was taking my life from me. Because she was going to manipulate my friends and family. Could my mom accept her as her daughter? Never! She’d have no luck. Or … My mom could think that I’d created some new adventure, try to change my mind, and then give up. I always had new ideas and the stubbornness of two bulls.
“Some of my friends are on Planet Two already,” my copy continued. She didn’t pay attention to my anger that I was sure appeared on my face. “We keep a lot of people. I told you about those two women. The old one was a famous actress on your planet. You should know her even though she doesn’t do movies anymore. My friend took her place and enjoys life. She loves your planet. I don’t like your job. Well, I’ve never worked really, only with my father. I can change that. I’ll have enough money to not waste my time at work. I know how to explain money to people who know you.”
“You wanted to become me.” My lips moved slowly, my brain sorted the flow of information, trying to make sense of it all and take it in. I kept myself from the impulse to run to that bitch and destroy her face, so she wouldn’t look like me.
My copy raised the crystal glass of champagne to her lips and winked at me. I wanted to kill her.
“They followed me,” I hissed through my teeth. I might have time to jump on her, but that would be my last action and I had more questions. “How did you find out about my relationship with Ray? With Ray from my world? I’ve never told anyone about it.”
“It wasn’t as difficult as you may think. Our agents are professionals. They studied your Ray’s life because my husband was going to move with me, as you already may understand. Agents learned all aspects of his and your lives, so we could connect you at some point. Gradually. Understand? My husband would replace your Ray and contact you … Me at that moment. He would tell his family and friends about his love for you … For me. That the plan we had … by the way, what do you mean relationship? You didn’t have any relationship as far as we know. So, you had a secret. Interesting. You are not me, but also not that simple.
There was no point to hide anything now.
“I was in love with him.”
My copy raised her eyebrows. The same way I did it.
“You had feelings for him. Interesting.” My copy took another bite of her toast, finished her champagne. “Interesting. He didn’t know?”
“We didn’t talk about it. Your husband, on the other hand, has known.”
“What do you mean?” She twisted the empty glass in her hand. Her eyes half closed.
“When we met he knew everything that was going on between us. Let’s say, he voiced my thoughts.”
“Hold on a minute.” My copy closed her eyes and shook her head. “You said you met my husband. You also talked to him on Planet Two? In that universe, not just here?”<
br />
“What do you mean talked?” I asked with pleasure. Understanding what had happened and stretching my little vengeance. “Of course I talked to him. But he, in my understanding, carried out your program. Correct? Even when he had sex with me?”
The eyes of my copy flew open.
“It’s not true,” she hissed.
“In spite of my hating him now, I have to be fair,” I continued; aggravating the pain I was inflicting. I wanted to hurt her. She would win by killing me, but I needed to get some points in my account. I went on, lowering my voice and holding back a smile. “He’s God in bed. You’re lucky. I didn’t have a chance to know my Ray at that level, but your husband helped me to appreciate how it could be. I’m grateful for that. I can die satisfied now.”
“It’s not true.” Green eyes drilled me; pink spots appeared on her skin. I didn’t get red, maybe a couple of times in my life. “It’s not true. He … He couldn’t sleep with you.”
“He told me that he loved me.” I added poison, at the same time poisoning myself. I didn’t want to remember anything of what happened between me and Ray’s double. It hurt. I was talking and twisting a screwdriver in my heart. “His kisses. No one has ever kissed me with such passion and greediness. I thought …”
I dodged down, barely avoiding the flying glass. It hit the wall behind my back and a few fragments fell on the arm of the chair and my head. I shook it off my hair.
“You need to make an appointment with a therapist. You have an anger problem, girl.”
“You’re lying to hurt me,” my copy hissed. “I know you. Your characteristics are scandal and provocation. I know everything about you.”
I didn’t like scandals. My copy received wrong information. I could answer to injustice, to insult, sometimes aggressively, but scandals—never.
“You didn’t know I loved Ray,” I said, holding a fragment of glass between my fingers.
It looked like the woman at the table was ready to choke me. She even rose a little, but the phone rang and she grabbed it, pressed it to her ear.
“Oh! I was waiting for you!” Her lips stretched into a grotesque smile. “At my office … Sure.” She put the phone down. “Confrontation time. Is that what you say? I can’t wait to send you to onis. I’ll go there myself to watch your execution.”
A Step to Nowhere Page 16
