by R E McLean
Jackie advanced on Pip. “Please, sweetie. I’m sorry. But we need you to leave us alone. I miss you, Pip honey, I really do. But I have to think of Fred.”
“Fred!”
Pip raised both hands and sent a ring of light crashing onto Fred. It fizzed and sizzled. Lacey shrieked and jumped backward. It hit Fred in the chest. He slammed into the wall then slid down it, his mouth open.
“Pip, what have you done?” Jackie ran to her son and put a hand on his neck. She pushed at his flesh, muttering.
She turned to Pip, her eyes a blur. “You killed him!”
Pip’s face creased into panic and then resolved itself into pleasure. “You want Pip back now? Can’t be without child.”
“Go! Leave us!”
Pip advanced on her. He tugged at her gingham dress. “Please, Mommy. Pip’s lonely. Let me come back. Promise I’ll be good.”
Lacey looked across at Fred then down at Phil. She wished she hadn’t come with these people. If it wasn’t for her, none of this would have happened.
She stepped forward.
“It’s alright, Pip,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ll come with you. I’ll be your friend.”
43
Eels
The dot on the bitbox flashed, guiding Alex on. If she held the gadget correctly, the dots moved toward her across its surface, the furthest slowly, the other more quickly. She was advancing on Pip and he was advancing on Lacey.
She scanned the horizon, trying to get her bearings. She was heading inland, toward Berkeley. Toward home.
She wondered if her own apartment block was replicated in this world; if LeConte Hall, where she’d worked as a physics postdoc, existed too. She thought of Rik, her friend and former lab partner. She had to hope that no version of him had been affected by whatever had happened here.
The dots had converged now. Pip had found Lacey. She stopped walking and stared at the single large dot that glowed at her.
She was in a residential neighborhood, low apartment blocks separated by modern houses. There was no sign of people, no wildlife even. The sun beat down on her head and she felt thirsty, faint.
She looked back at the bitbox. The lights had gone.
She shook it. Nothing happened. She held it to her ear. It was silent.
She looked around again. She couldn’t remember which way she’d been heading before she’d stopped to look round. She was at an intersection, with almost identical blocks on each corner. She had no way of knowing which way was which.
She threw a hand over her eyes and squinted up at the sun. But it was high in the sky. And besides, she had no idea what the time was.
Then she had a thought. She placed a hand on the bitbox.
“Doris?”
Nothing.
“Doris, I need your help.”
Doris was the AI who’d once guided her through Silicon City.
She twisted the bitbox, very carefully. She didn’t want it blowing up in her face again.
She put her mouth to it, keeping her eyes shut so as not to observe it.
“If there’s anyone in there, I need your help. I’m lost.”
“Meow.”
She held the bitbox at arm’s length.
“Hello?”
“Meow.”
“Can you speak? I don’t understand Cat.”
She thought of Schrödinger, back at home. She closed her eyes and imagined him curled up in his box. Poking his silly ginger head out and greeting her when she got home from work. The thought made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
She stopped moving her hands across the bitbox. It had changed in form and texture. It wasn’t smooth anymore, or cold.
She opened her eyes. In her hands, instead of a reflective black box so dark it seemed to swallow the light, was a cardboard box.
It had ‘Property of Alex Strand’ written on it in black ballpoint.
Carefully, she lifted the flaps one by one then reached a hand inside.
It touched something warm and fluffy. It was breathing.
“Shrew!”
She grasped his fur and pulled him free, letting the box clatter to the ground.
“Meow.”
She pulled him to her neck and gave him a tight hug.
“Oh Shrew, am I pleased to see you.”
He dug his paw into her neck, trying to break free.
“Sorry, boy.” She grabbed the box and placed him back inside. As long as she kept the lid open—as long as she observed him—he wouldn’t die.
He blinked up at her. Then he yawned and pulled a paw across his face. He licked it and started to wash himself.
“So how did you get here?”
“Meow.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“Meow.”
She heard a clatter.
“Shrew, was that you?”
“Meow.”
“No, of course it wasn’t. Now shush and let me investigate.”
She gave his ears a ruffle and tucked the box under her arm, taking care to keep the flaps open. She surveyed the empty buildings.
“Why is everything so samey here? Why aren’t there any landmarks?”
She tried to remember what this area looked like in her own world. She was in Oakland, a place that made her feel alive. With its pavement cafes, farmers’ markets and student bars, it always lifted her spirits.
“Wait. What’s that?”
A shape had appeared, halfway between this and the next intersection. It looked like a food stall.
She approached it, checking on Schrödinger as she went. He was happily washing his butt.
“Eww,” she told him. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”
“Meow.”
“Exactly.”
She reached the object. It was a wooden shack, with blue painted walls and a green hatch.
She put a hand on the hatch. It didn’t seem to be locked.
She placed the box on the floor.
“You stay there. Don’t go dying or anything.”
“Meow.”
“Good.”
Shrew had jumped up on the shack and was trying to slink under the closed hatch.
“No time for snacks. I’ve got work to do.”
“Meow.” He gave her his most plaintive stare.
“No, boy. Come on.”
He hissed at her.
“Your a grumpy so-and-so today. Right then, just one. But make it quick.”
She lifted the hatch, taking its weight with both arms. She found a prop for the hatch and left it open.
Shrodinger leaped up to the hatch and started sniffing. The smell of fish wafted into Alex’s nostrils. She took a deep breath, trying to remember the last time she’d eaten.
Schrödinger placed his feet in the center of a tub of eels and started eating.
“I didn’t know you liked those.”
He said nothing.
At the other end of the display was a pot with a tightly fitting lid. Alex lifted it and the heady scent of garlic prawns escaped. Her mouth watered. She could spare a few moments, surely…
She picked up the pot and started to eat, momentarily forgetting about Lacey, and Sarita, and everything except her own groaning stomach.
44
Chonk
The pot of prawns had proven to be larger than Alex thought and she must have eaten a hundred of them.
She belched. Schrödinger looked up at her.
“Sorry. Not as if you don’t do it.”
By way of agreement, he yawned, sending a gust of fishy cat breath her way.
“Eww. I wish I hadn’t eaten so much.”
The hut suddenly disappeared, replaced by a toilet cubicle.
Alex stood back. “Where did that come from?”
“Meow.”
Schrödinger sat on its roof, glaring down at her as if it was her fault he was stuck up there.
“Sorry Shrew. Here.”
She reached up and he put a paw on
her hand, testing his weight.
“Come on. I know you’re a bit of a chonk but I’m strong enough to get you down.”
He gave her a hard stare that would melt weaker souls and stepped onto her outstretched hand. She lowered him down and scooped him into her arms.
“Now, where did this thing come from?”
“Meow.”
He pawed at her arm and she let him jump to the ground. He darted behind the toilet.
“Hey! Don’t go disappearing on me. Who knows what you’ll turn into.”
“Meow.”
He emerged from his hiding place. She peered round to see he’d done his business.
“Oh, Shrew. You could at least have found some soil to dig over… Hang on a minute. Were you thinking the same thing as me, when that thing appeared? How full you were?” She looked into the cat’s eyes. He gave her a slow blink. “Were you feeling a bit queasy?”
“Miaow.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
She picked him up and held tightly to him, making sure he didn’t go anywhere. Then she screwed up her eyes. She imagined the bitbox, two dots pulsing on its surface.
She opened her eyes and looked down at the cardboard box. It was still a cardboard box.
She thought of an iPhone, in her hand, Lacey’s location signaling to her through Google maps. She looked down at her hand. It was empty.
“Meow.”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
Schrödinger sneezed then lay down on the ground. He curled up into a ball and went to sleep.
“Don’t go to sleep, boy. I’m not sure if you’ll wake up dead.”
She stepped toward him but was stopped by something hitting her leg.
She looked down. There was a couch directly in front of her. Large, red and soft. Schrödinger was curled up in its center.
“Good boy! How did you do that?”
She pictured an easy chair sitting next to it, the dogeared one her dad had at home. It was full of crumbs and held more of his skin than was currently on his body.
Nothing happened.
She closed her eyes and imagined herself reclining in her dad’s chair. Sometimes when she was feeling rebellious she’d venture into it, only to be chased out again. She smiled at the memory.
She opened her eyes. The chair was sitting next to Schrödinger’s couch. It was an exact replica. High-backed, upholstered in faded green stripes.
She sniffed it. It was her dad’s alright.
She had it. This world, or something in it, wasn’t telepathic. It was empathic. It was sensing her mood. Hers, and Schrödinger’s, and Pip’s. It was creating physical manifestations of that mood.
She could use this.
She screwed up her eyes again, and imagined herself invincible. She tried to gather the thoughts and feelings she’d have once she’d saved Lacey. She imagined Monique congratulating her. Sarita admitting that Alex was a more skilled investigator than her.
It felt good.
She felt something in her hand.
She opened her eyes.
The bitbox had reappeared. On its face was a virtual map of the city. It showed her location as well as Pip’s and Lacey’s. They were each marked with their names.
She grabbed the cardboard box, and put Schrödinger in it.
“Meow.”
“Yes, I know. Plenty more couches later.”
“Meow.”
She checked the bitbox again. Lacey and Pip’s dots were still together. They were heading her way.
45
Sick
“Come on,” Pip snapped. “Want to get away from here.”
Lacey considered refusing but decided better of it.
She slouched along behind him, thinking of all the times she had followed her parents like this. The look on her mum’s face when Lacey didn’t keep up. The way she niggled at her dad about it, as if it was his fault.
He hurried back toward the waterfront.
“Keep up.”
She sniffed and hurried to catch up with him.
“Why did you attack your family like that?”
“They pissed me off.”
“My parents piss me off all the time. I don’t sling discs of light at them.”
He turned and put his hands on his hips. “Lacey not Pip. Lacey got no idea.”
“They just wanted to help you.”
He grunted and carried on walking. “They wanted rid of me. Everyone want rid of me. Even you.”
“I came with you didn’t I?”
She was level with him now.
“Didn’t want to.”
She took a deep breath. “I did.”
He shook his head and picked up speed. She kept pace.
“I know how unhappy you are, Pip. I know you just want company.”
He wiped his cheek.
“I can be that company. I can be your friend.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
This was a useless. If he didn’t want her companionship, then why was he keeping her here?
She thought of the time she’d fallen out with Lou, her best friend. Lou had acted like she never wanted to clap eyes on Lacey again. And then, out of the blue one day, she hadn’t.
People were complicated. Especially people who’d been abandoned by their family because of their annoying habit of creating rifts between worlds and attacking people with bolts of light.
Pip was like a god.
She shook her head. Don’t be ridiculous.
“Your powers are pretty sick, you know,” she said.
“Pip not sick!”
“No, that’s not what I.. they’re good. They’re impressive. That’s what I mean.”
He shrugged. “Nah.”
“Duh! You can create portals between dimensions. That storm you made, it was mental.”
He stopped walking and turned to her. “Mental? You think Pip dumb?”
“No. No, not at all. It was good. Awesome.”
“Not sick. Nothing wrong with me.”
“I know. I never said you were. In my world, sick means good.”
He started walking again. They were at the bridge now, picking their way between the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s dumb.”
“I guess so.”
“What else in Lacey’s world dumb?”
She tried to think. Her version of San Francisco—her home, twenty miles from Chicago—seemed so far away.
“OK. Bad.”
“Bad?”
“Yeah. What does bad mean to you?”
“Bad is my life. Bad sucks.”
She laughed. Well, sometimes we say something is bad if it’s actually good. Real good. And for sucks, we sometimes say blows.”
“Blows?”
“Yeah. This bridge blows.”
He giggled. “How can bridge blow?”
“It’s crappy, man. It blows.”
“Like that. My dad blows.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“He does.”
“What about you? What words do you use?”
“Don’t use any.”
She risked giving him a light punch on the arm. He put a hand to it but said nothing.
“Go on. There must be stuff you mutter to yourself, when you’re pissed.”
“Pissed?”
“Yeah. Pissed. Browned off. Mad.”
“Pip not crazy.”
“No. Mad, like angry. Like you were back there with your—” She stopped. “So you don’t talk to yourself, all alone in the city?”
He shook his head.
“Aw, come on. I talk to myself all the time. Hazard of being an only child. That is, when I’m not talking to my dog.”
They were across the bridge now. Pip sat down on a boulder. He looked down at his hands.
“You got dog?” he asked.
“Yeah. Scruffy, she’s called. Jack Russel bitch. My best friend.”
Lacey pictured Scruffy sitting on her lap at home, the w
ay she’d go round and round in circles until she could find the right spot. How she’d sometimes get up after ten seconds and start the whole thing again.
She smiled. Her legs felt warm, as if Scruffy was sitting on them now.
“I had dog,” said Pip.
“What’s that?” Lacey said.
Pip looked up, the sadness gone from his eyes. “What?”
“I heard something. Over there.”
He followed her gaze to a pile of tangled rope near the waterfront. He stood up, raising his hands in front of him.
She put her own hands on his. “Shh. It might be nothing.”
He frowned at her then slowly withdrew his hands, letting them fall by his sides. She let herself breathe again.
“Well done,” she told him.
There was another noise, a scrabbling followed by a clatter. Then—no, it couldn’t be…
“Was that—?” she said.
Pip’s eyes were alight. He ran to the piled rope, his arms outstretched.
Oh, hell, she thought. He’s going to do it again.
“Rufus!” he cried. “Here, boy!”
A small dog ran out of the shadows and into his arms. He scooped it up, crying and laughing at the same time.
Lacey stared. Where had the dog been hiding, all this time?
46
Albatross
The dots had started moving, heading her way. Alex shoved Schrödinger inside her jacket, giving him a tickle on his forehead. He purred happily.
She looked at the bitbox, trying to match the map to the streets.
None of it made any sense. The streets on the map had been destroyed by the earthquake. Her path was dotted with abandoned or ruined buildings as well as rubble. Entire blocks on the map in her hand were missing in real life.
But she had those dots.
She headed toward them, keeping to the shadows. She couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t be accosted by a giant elephant, or maybe an albatross. Nothing in this place would surprise her.
“Meow.” Schrödinger wriggled inside her jacket.
