by Mathy, Scott
“You’re originally from that universe, then?” They turned to the left, entering the gates of Meteor Park, walking along the budding flora of the open central path. Every so often, a lone or small pack of runners would pass them, indifferent to the two men’s grim conversation.
Zhu held the picture tightly at his side, “I was. We evacuated everyone we could to the station just as our New Haven was overrun. In the end, we only managed to save two hundred. So many brave sacrifices in such a short time. I saw the best and worst of us all that day.”
“And her?” Dwight reluctantly asked again.
Zhu looked longingly at the ruby-skinned alien smiling in the photo, recalling another lifetime, “Her name was Aeka. She was one of the brave ones. More than a teammate, a true companion and friend; I loved her.”
They crossed under a bridge, heading through a short tunnel toward the park’s central monument, “You said that there was another version of you here, the one that died. Does that mean that there’s another version of her, too?”
“Sure. I even met her once, when I started with the Guild. But she’s not the same Aeka I knew, just like the Evan Zhu that I saw die isn’t me. The woman in this picture sacrificed herself to save the lives of a dozen terrified innocents. Trying to replace her would be a disservice to both of them.”
Dwight took a seat on the park bench across from the enormous statue memorializing the city’s first defender. He began searching for a way to open the olive briefcase. “What about me? Was there a Referee in your world, too?”
Zhu sat next to him, “Are you sure you want to know?”
Dwight thought for a moment, looking up at the stone features of the icon towering over them. Finally, he decided, “I do.”
Zhu sighed, “There was a Referee in my world. We crossed paths a few times – sometimes as allies, sometimes as enemies.”
Dwight found the scanner on the front of the case and touched his thumb to it. Instantly, the metal shell expanded into the familiar shape of the rocket launcher he’d left in the Doc’s lab a week ago. Void leaned to the side to avoid the weapon. The size of the launcher remained unchanged, but Dwight found the weight of the weapon was drastically reduced by the Doc’s improvements. He relocated the scanner and returned “Ivan” to its mundane disguise.
“What was he like?” Dwight asked, setting the case next to the bench.
Zhu grunted, “A royal pain in my ass, kinda like you. He was more bitter, cold-blooded; an uncompromising bastard that wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. That might just be age talking, both his and mine…” the Cape looked away, clearly lost in his own memories, “…but in the end, he was always in it for what he thought was right. He fought not only for himself, but the people who needed him.”
Dwight took some satisfaction in the knowledge that there was another version of him that someone remembered fondly, “How did he die?”
“Like everyone who could: fighting to save as many as possible from the tide of empowered monsters tearing the world apart.”
The revelation chilled Dwight’s sentiment, “Do you think it’s coming to this world? We severed access to the portal from this side, but if there’s another version of each of us here, shouldn’t there be another plague waiting to fall any time?”
Zhu leaned back, the swirling vortex of his eye glowing in the fading sunlight, “Maybe. Best answer I can give you. I’ve been to a dozen other universes before I came to this one. Spread the survivors across whatever part of the journey they asked to get off on. I left that one portal open in case I ever found a reason to go back. There are the tiniest differences between each timeline, but the smallest change can have astronomical consequences. For all I know, whatever spawned the terror of the plague in my world was the crowning achievement of an alien race in this one. Maybe instead of crashing into New Haven, it flew into the sun here; I don’t know.”
Dwight held the sides of his skull, the existential crisis setting in. “That’s not a great answer.” He felt sick.
Zhu laughed harder than Dwight had ever heard the old man, “Ain’t that the truth!” After his fit subsided, he put an arm over Dwight’s sunken shoulders, “I can at least tell you this: in my timeline, the swarm would have already come. It hasn’t here, for one reason or another – or it may still be coming and is taking longer to get here. Way I see it, if you think about it too hard, you’ll go insane. All we’ve got is the present and the world as it is.”
Dwight shook his head, “That’s not good enough. You can roam between timelines and worlds freely, but this is my home, my world.” He stood, fighting the shaking in his muscles, “I need to see more, find a solution before it’s too late.”
“A solution to what?”
His trembling limbs grew steadier each second, “Everything: the plague, Wulf, the Council, Powers, Normals. I need to see more of it all.”
“That’s an awful big list of problems for a powerless hitman. You’re sure you want this?” Zhu asked, standing up from the bench.
Inside, Dwight felt insignificant, like an ant staring down a hurricane, but he continued anyway, “Take me; show me what you’ve seen. I am afraid, but it’s the right thing.”
Zhu smiled, “Now you sound like him. I was starting to wonder when you’d ask.”
The time traveler opened a portal between them and the colossal monument, its violet rim illuminating the surrounding concrete against the field of stars above them. He held out an arm, inviting Dwight through the swirling vortex.
Dwight walked up to the edge, the briefcase held tightly in his prosthetic hand, feeling the cool evening air of the universe he called home. He took one last look at the city behind him, swearing he’d find what he needed to protect it from the threats tearing at it both inside and out. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through.
