by R E McLean
“Oh, my word. Your heart rate has soared. Do you need a lie down?”
“Doris, you can go now.”
“Sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Alex imagined an empty space where Doris stood. Before she had time to make a gesture of banishment, Doris was gone.
She ducked behind a burnt-out car, eyeing the spot where she’d seen Sarita.
Sarita didn’t have the bitbox, but she was resourceful. She’d found Lacey’s location, or maybe her own. She’d know Alex was here.
But who was she with?
Doris was right; her heart rate was up. And not just because of Sarita and that suit. She blew out a long breath and considered her options.
She couldn’t stay here forever. Lacey might never emerge from those containers. And what if Sarita found the girl first, and took her straight back home, without waiting for Alex?
Would she do that?
She surveyed her surroundings. The closest cover was a dark pink shape on the wrecked sidewalk. It looked a lot like a huge box of Twinkies.
She shot out of her hiding place and ran for the Twinkie box, keeping herself low. She tumbled to the ground next to the box, panting.
“Alex?”
“Mike?”
Mike was staring at her. His beard had an ornate letter T carved into it. She glanced at the Twinkie box.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sarita came back for me. She told me you were lost.”
49
Banana
“What sort of lost?” said Alex.
“I don’t know,” replied Mike. “What sort of lost do you think you were?”
He scratched at the T on his chin. The skin beneath it was red and raw, with something Alex preferred not to contemplate seeping from it.
“You OK?” asked Alex.
He dropped his hand. “I’m fine. Where have you been, anyway? Why weren’t you with Sarita?”
“Long story.”
“Lovers’ tiff.”
“Stop it, will you.”
She was sick of people teasing her about her feelings for Sarita. She was even more sick of the feelings themselves, seeing as they interfered with her desire to take Sarita’s giant ego and put it into a blender with that body suit right now.
Mike said nothing. “I just think the two of you need to get a room. I hear you stormed off.”
“I didn’t storm off. I went in search of Lacey.”
“And Pip. And his family.”
“Yes. I met them.”
“What were they like? Going by this place, I imagine they were magic pixies or something.”
Alex stared at him. “Don’t.”
“What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“This place has a habit of turning the things you imagine into reality.”
“Did you imagine me?”
Alex turned to see Sarita standing behind them. She was still wearing the bodysuit but had draped a cloak over it. It made her look like she was going to a fancy dress party as Wonder Woman after she’d been dipped in mercury.
“I don’t need to imagine you. You’re right here.”
“You too, thank goodness. You could have got yourself killed.”
“I didn’t.”
“I’m glad about that.” Sarita softened. “So what did you see? Could his family do stuff too?”
“Not really. No more than anyone else.”
Sarita raised an eyebrow. “Anyone else?”
“It’s this place. It does things.”
“Like what?”
Alex stood up. “Like this.”
“Get down!” hissed Mike, glancing toward the containers. Alex ducked back down, and Sarita crouched in behind her.
“Like what?”
Alex returned Sarita’s gaze, trying to ignore the fact that her stomach was behaving as if it had a full load of clothes. “Like this.”
She traced a D on the bitbox, not taking her eyes off Sarita’s.
“Why hello. We have a party, I see.”
Sarita rolled her eyes. “Doris.”
“Have you met?” asked Alex.
“A few times. What are you doing here, Doris?”
“The delightful young Alex summoned me. You might say I’m the genie in her bitbox.”
“I don’t think you should be here.”
“Oh don’t worry, honey. It’s not really me. I’m just a figment of her imagination.”
“How so?”
Alex imagined Doris vanishing into thin air. She didn’t.
She looked up at the AI. “Why aren’t you disappearing?”
“I thought you’d figured that out. Not telepathy. Empathy.”
“Ah.” Alex imagined a world free from scolding AIs, a world in which she could relax into her most sarcastic self but never find out where her mom might be. She felt a cold hand grip her chest just as Doris blinked out of existence.
“Where did she go?” asked Sarita.
“I willed her away. With my imagination. It’s this world. Whatever that earthquake did. It picks up on your emotions, your desires. It’s related to quantum probability, and quantum mirroring.”
“Two quantum effects, no less. Explain.”
She was about to remind Sarita to say please but stopped herself, cursing Doris. “OK, quantum probability is about the idea that everything is possible, with at least the tiniest degree of probability. Even something as mad as Mike becoming a twenty-foot rabbit.”
“A twenty-foot rabbit?”
“Hey,” said Mike. “None of that.”
Alex smirked. “And quantum mirroring is about reality mirroring the impulses in the brain. It’s all wildly theoretical, and couldn’t happen in real life. At least not in our universe. But it seems that here, something made it possible.”
“So if I think about something, it comes true?”
Sarita leaned forward. She smelt of bananas still. Alex leaned back.
“No. It’s deeper than that, further down in your subconscious. It’s about feelings, emotions. Imagine yourself feeling a certain way, and something will appear that makes you feel that way. Like if I imagine feeling warm and cozy, as relaxed as possible, it makes my cat appear.”
“Your cat?”
“Yes. Although in his case, it might not be my imagination.”
“Shush,” interrupted Mike. “Something’s happening.”
They looked over at the containers. One had started to move. It was tipping and swaying, shifting on its axis.
And it was making a familiar sound.
No.
It couldn’t be.
50
Squeaky
Pip pushed Lacey back into the container. She pushed against him, annoyed. She wasn’t his enemy. He should trust her.
Alex and her team had come back to find her, she was sure of it. But she had her own plan. Their arrival would only halt her progress.
“It’s OK, Pip. You’ve got nothing to be scared of.”
“No?”
“Of course not. You overpowered them before. Look at you. You’re like a god.”
“Don’t. Don’t talk like that. Disrespectful.”
“Disrespectful to you, or to God?”
He threw a palm out and slapped her cheek. She brought her hand up to it, shocked. His face was red, and he was drooling.
She backed away.
“You take Lord’s name in vain!” he cried.
“I didn’t. I just—”
“Blasphemy to compare me to a god!”
“Whoah, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
“Of course feel this way. Pip nothing like a God. A servant, a vessel. God acting through me.”
“Is that what you think’s happening here?”
“Course. What else?”
“It’s nothing to do with the earthquake?”
“Who makes earthquakes?”
“Er, plate tectonics?”
“Blasphem
y!”
He struck her again. She ran away from him, hurtling into the boxes. They shifted and heaved around her.
One teetered above her, about to fall.
She eyed Pip and made a quick calculation. Then she darted forward, slipping past him toward the door.
She put a hand on it.
“No!” he cried. He flung out his hand and the door slammed shut.
“Let me go, Pip. Please!”
“No! You no see what that was? Can you make door close with power of mind? Can I? No! Can only be God, acting through Pip.”
His eyes were wide and his chest was rising and falling. He glared at her, waiting for an answer.
Not taking her eyes off him, she banged the door with her fist. It hurt.
“Help! Let me out!”
He ran toward her and grabbed her hands. “No! Lacey said be my friend!”
“That was before. Now I know you’re incapable of friendship.”
He let her hands drop. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. “Not true. I was great friend, once. Loyal. Supportive. But then the quake happened, and friends left.”
“Where’d they go?”
“Don’t know,” he said. “All evacuated, after the quake. We were going too. But something happened.”
“What happened?”
He looked up at her. “Stop it. Stop pretending to be friend.”
She pursed her lips, trying not to show her exasperation. This was like all the world’s worst little brothers rolled into one.
“I’m not pretending, Pip. I want to help you.”
He stared at her. She listened, trying to make out any sounds form outside. But the walls of the container were too thick. Had they heard her? Would they be able to work out which container she was in?
Or would they suffocate in here?
“Were you happy once, Pip?”
He frowned, then shrugged.
“Before the earthquake? Before everyone left?”
“No. I can’t remember.”
The container started humming, a high pitched tone working its way through the metal. She looked at Pip. His fists were clenched and his eyes clamped shut.
She put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
He opened his eyes. “What?”
“Shush, now. Shush. Think happy thoughts. Remember what it was like before. All this will go away. This world, it will get better if you believe it can. If you feel it deep down.”
She thumped her chest.
“No. It won’t. ’S ruined.”
“You can unruin it, Pip.”
He wiped his face with his sleeve.
“Remember Rufus, Pip. Remember what it was like to play with him, to throw a ball for him.”
Pip looked at her, his eyes full of fear. “Don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because Rufus died. Was killed in the—”
She tightened her grip on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I really am. But that doesn’t mean you can’t remember him. Remembering people—and pets—we’ve lost is what makes them live on in our hearts.”
He shook his head. “It hurts.”
The humming through the metal walls increased in pitch. If it got any louder, Lacey’s ears might burst.
“Please, Pip. What was his favorite thing? What did he like to do with you?”
A sniff. “He liked to run in the yard. Was only small, he had to go round in circles.”
“That sounds fun.”
“He always went same way.” He paused. The humming was subsiding.
Lacey felt her breathing loosen. “Go on.”
“I used to say he’d end up with legs on one side shorter.” He laughed. “He was funny. His little face.”
“That’s good. What else?”
His face darkened. “Fred’s cat. He stopped doing it when Fred got a cat.”
“Don’t think about the cat, Pip. Did Rufus have a ball? A bone? Something he liked to play with? To fetch?”
He shook his head. “A bone. Squeaky. Cat hid it.”
“Don’t think about the cat. Think about Rufus. Did he sleep in your bed?”
“He hated that cat. It was what drove him outside. Used to hide under the house, keep away from cat.”
“Pip, please…”
He pulled away from her. The humming had returned. Behind her, she could hear movement. She turned to see the boxes shifting.
One of them toppled. She shifted to one side. It landed between her and Pip.
He looked down at it.
“Without that cat, Rufus would still be alive.”
There was a scraping sound. Something was tearing at the box from inside. It was a claw.
‘What’s in these boxes?” she asked.
“Told you. Kitchen units.”
“How can a kitchen unit claw its way out of a box?”
He looked down. She shuffled away from the box.
Another one came crashing down. It burst open in a flurry of packing material and black fur.
“Furry kitchen units?” she said.
More of them started shifting. They were making noises now. Meowing. Snarling. Hissing. Like an alley full of angry street cats.
Lacey and Pip pulled back against the door.
The box that had toppled first ripped open. A mangy black cat burst out of it, snarling at them.
“Run!” cried Lacey.
51
Soot
The containers were meowing.
Alex started running.
“Careful, Alex!” cried Mike. “You don’t know what’s in there!”
“It’s alright! It’s just a box of quantum cats!”
She ground to a halt in front of the containers. There were hundreds of them, all in one of three colors, one of four logos on their sides.
“Shrew!” she called. “Schrödinger, are you in there?”
“What are you doing?” asked Sarita.
Mike sighed. “It’s her cat. He dies in boxes. Comes back to life again.”
“I know about the cat. But what makes you think he’s in there?”
“He was here already, remember?” Alex snapped. “I must have imagined something, or felt a certain way. He’s back.”
“That whole container was moving,” said Mike.
“Which one? It’s stopped.”
“That’s not the point. Your ginger cat, no matter how fat he is, cannot move an entire shipping container.”
She turned to him. “What if there’s more than one of him?”
“More than one? Now this I have to see.”
“What color was it? The one we saw moving?”
“It was blue,” said Sarita.
Alex stood back. There were at least eighty that were blue. “What logo?”
“That one.” Sarita pointed at an unfamiliar logo, a K in a box.
“Right.” Alex counted under her breath. She could see five in her immediate vicinity that fitted the description.
“Let’s try them all.”
She rushed to the first one and tugged the handle. It wouldn’t budge.
She cursed under her breath and ran to the next one. That didn’t budge either.
“Alex.”
She looked around. Sarita was watching her, hands on her hips. Mike was moving between containers, mirroring Alex’s actions.
“Why aren’t you helping?” she asked Sarita.
“There’s a better way. This won’t work.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You’ve already shown me what this world can do. Use it.”
“Doris?”
“No. Not Doris. Use your imagination.”
Alex closed her eyes. She imagined all of the container doors pinging open, cats tumbling out of all of them.
She opened her eyes. Nothing.
It’s empathic, not telepathic, she reminded herself.
But what feeling could she conjure that would open all the doors?
She tried to imagine the feeli
ng of having hundreds of cats running at her, jumping to get on her lap. She tried to imagine the freedom of running through an open door. She tried to imagine reuniting Lacey with her parents.
Nothing.
“This one!” Mike cried. She ran toward his voice.
He was backing away from a blue container. The door hung open, a high pitched humming reverberating through the metal. How hadn’t she heard that?
She yelped as Pip ran out, followed by Lacey. Hundreds of mangy black cats tumbled after them, like a flow of snarling, hissing soot.
“Freeze!” cried Mike. He held up a pink gun.
52
Cowgirl
Lacey barreled into Pip.
A cat leaped onto her neck and sank its claws in. She batted at it, screeching.
She could feel the flesh on her back tightening, the blood churning.
She was allergic to normal house cats. These ones would bring her out in hives.
“Move!” she shouted at Pip. “Run!”
He raised his hands in the air.
“What is it?”
She peered round. Alex and the man who’d turned into a giant rabbit, another woman with them in a silver skinsuit and a red cloak. Everyone stood still, looking at the rabbit man.
“Put it down!” Pip called.
“No.”
Rabbit Man was holding a large pink gun, the kind you’d imagine little girls touting at a cowgirl party.
Lacey looked at him. Surely he knew by now that his weapons were useless against Pip. But maybe he hadn’t brought that thing with him. Maybe he’d found it here. It certainly looked like something from this universe. It might work.
“Do as he says,” she whispered.
“No,” muttered Pip. “Don’t work like that. You’re the one said I was a god.”
“I didn’t say you were a god. I said you were like one. Besides, you didn’t exactly agree with me.”
“I have power. Power they can’t understand.”
“Give up, Pip. You don’t have the power you need most of all.”
He turned to her. “What’s that?”
“Don’t move!”
Rabbit Man had raised his gun and was waving it in Pip’s direction. Lacey wondered if he knew what would happen if he pulled the trigger. She certainly didn’t.
