Self Made

by M. Darusha Wehm

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The room was getting lighter, the weak sun coming up and brightening the place. The music had gotten slower, more dreamy and introspective as the evening progressed. By now, Maksym looked like he was fighting off sleep as he lay on the couch, his head barely nodding in time to the music. From his vantage point on the floor, Dex faced the wall and his own tiredness was making it difficult to look elsewhere. His voice sounded overly loud in the small room. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked. “Do you need a hand on the train or anything?”

  “Naw,” Maks said, “it’s just the one crate. Besides, you’ll need to pack up, too. You’ll be out of here in a few days yourself.” Maks sat up and rubbing his hands over his face, said, “Andy, we’ve had some good times here, haven’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Dex had said, “we have, indeed.” His voice sounded tired and sad. As he stood to get a glass of water, he cleared his throat. He drew some water, drank it and poured another glass which he handed to Maks. The other man drank the whole glass in one swallow, then smiled at Dex as he gave back him the empty glass. “You should go soon,” Dex said.

  “Yeah,” Maks said, standing up. He ran his hands over his wrinkled clothes and through his messy blonde hair, though it didn’t improve their appearance any. He looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to say something but was having trouble finding the right words. “It’s not you, you know,” he said, finally, looking Dex in the eye. “It’s just that things change. I changed. I want a different life now, that’s all.”

  “I know,” Dex said, blinking his wet eyes a few times.

  “I wish everything would be the same for you once I’m gone, but it won’t,” Maks said, sadly. “It’s a different world out there and I want to be a part of it now. I know it wasn’t supposed to end this way, but I can’t pretend that this is enough for me anymore.”

  “I know,” Dex repeated. “I just wish it were.”

  Maks smiled and moved closer to Dex. He put his arms around the man, they embraced. “You can’t hold on to people forever,” Maks said, softly. “We’re all in motion, constantly. Sometimes, when we’re lucky, we’re moving in the same direction at the same time. But, if you try to hang on, all you do is grab on to thin air. It’s no good.” He broke the embrace and Dex could see a tear brimming in Maksym’s eye. “You have to find your own way, same as I did. But you’ll be fine — you’ve always been the strong one, anyway.” He smiled and picked up his crate. “Take care, Andy.”

  “You too, Maks,” Dex said, as Maks walked into to hall and closed the door behind him. Dex could hear footsteps as Maks walked down the hall, footsteps that got quieter until the video went silent.

  • • •

  The video still made Dex feel sad every time he watched it, but those times had become fewer and further between. The first year after Maks moved out and Dex had started working at a firm he had watched the old videos almost every night. But now he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d pulled out one of the recordings. He wondered what it was about today that made him want to relive those old memories. It was probably the case he’d just finished — poor Renna Bellinger and her inability to let go. It must have been hard for her. Not that it excused anything, but Dex found that he had a strong sense of sympathy for the woman that he couldn’t quite understand.

  He shut down the viewer and poured a glass of gingapop. He pulled out the brand new bottle of Jamaica’s Best he’d picked up on the way home from work and broke the seal on the cap. He splashed a bit of the sweet dark liquor into his soda and swirled the mixture around in the glass. He sat back down in his comfortable chair and pinged Annabelle.

  To his surprise, they had kept in touch in the three days since the case ended. They’d spoken in some way every day since then and while Dex didn’t see himself getting over his discomfort at being together only virtually, he was enjoying their growing friendship.

  Annabelle answered the ping and opened a voice channel. “Hey, there,” she said, her voice light as usual. “How’s it going?”

  “I’m good,” Dex said. “Just enjoying a tasty beverage and taking a breather after a short day at work.” Annabelle laughed and Dex grinned. “Between no new cases to pick up and these short days, I almost feel like I’m on holiday. It is kind of nice having a few days off, though. I know I’ll get bored soon enough, but right now I’m really liking having nothing to do in the evenings.”

  “Must be nice,” Annabelle said. “My work is pretty much never done. I’ve got an intellectual property theft case of my own on the go and there are a few people who call on me every once and again for technical help.”

  “It’s tough being popular,” Dex said.

  “Don’t I know it,” Annabelle agreed, laughing. “The good news is that I decided to take my two weeks’ vacation from the day job, so I’ve got a nice bit of spare time to play with.”

  “Good for you,” Dex said. “What are you planning to do with it?”

  “I though I’d go visit a friend,” Annabelle said and at that moment Dex heard a banging sound coming from his hallway. He got up and walked to the door. The noise sounded again and he realized that someone was knocking on the door. He tentatively opened it. A man stood there, smiling shyly. He was medium height, medium build, face full of metal — extremely ordinary-looking. He blinked a few times and said in a low, quiet voice, “Hey, Dex.”

  Simultaneously in his ear, Dex heard Annabelle’s light voice say the same words. He blinked a few times, opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” the man before him and the voice in his head said, at the same time. “I know I’m probably not what you expected.... but can I come in, anyway?” Dex simply nodded and moved back from the door in order to let the man in.

  • • •

  They sat at the table across from each other, each drinking a strong cocktail which Dex expertly mixed. “I officially changed my gender,” Annabelle said, having trouble meeting Dex’s eyes, “almost ten years ago now. I never got around to doing anything with the meat.” She indicated her male body sitting across from Dex. “It just never seemed to matter.”

  Dex said nothing for a moment, trying to take it all in. “It’s none of my business,” he said finally, “but is this maybe why you have such trouble in the physical world?

  Annabelle shook her head. “No. I was like that before,” she said. “That’s why I never bothered with changing my body. It really didn’t matter to me. Not to mention that the procedure is very expensive. And not without a fair amount of discomfort, I’m told.”

  “I’m not asking you to do it,” Dex said and smiled to take the edge of his words. Annabelle smiled back and their eyes met for a brief moment. Dex sighed and took a large sip of his drink. “It’s true that I want a real body to touch, but I’ve never been too particular about the specifics of said body.”

  Dex felt his face flush as he waited for Annabelle’s response. “You are a very strange man,” she said, finally and Dex saw a smile creep over her face.

  “Look who’s talking, kiddo,” he said, grinning back. “It must feel so weird for you to be here.”

  “You have no idea,” Annabelle laughed and Dex could hear the sound he’d grown so accustomed to in the last few weeks hiding inside this deep voice. She explained that she automatically ran her voice through a pitch adjuster when she talked over the ’nets. She said she’d been living this way for so long that it wasn’t until she was halfway across the world that she realized that she would probably look quite different to what she figured Dex imagined she looked like.

  Her smile faltered and she took a large sip of her drink. Not looking Dex in the eye, she said, “So. Here I am. I don’t really know what I’m doing here and I can go back anytime if this is inconvenient.” Her eyes darted up to meet Dex’s, then she looked away quickly again. “I shouldn’t have come,” she said quickly and made as if to stand up. “I’ll just go.” D
ex reached out, touching her arm lightly. She made a noise and pulled her hand away, as if his touch had burned her.

  “I’m sorry,” Dex said, lightly, “but I don’t want you to leave.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Annabelle said, her dark eyes shining above a light five o’ clock shadow. “This might be a little too much for me... you know how I am about this,” she waved her hands, gesturing at Dex’s apartment, but meaning the whole physical world.

  “I do,” Dex said, looking up at her and smiling softly, “and you came anyway.”

  “I guess,” she said, looking at him out the corner of her eye. She tentatively sat down. “I don’t know if this is going to work,” she said, sadly.

  “Me neither,” Dex said. “Who ever knows if anything is going to work? It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you came. You tried. I don’t think anyone has ever tried that hard for me before.”

  “You’re such a big sap,” she said, laughing that laugh that Dex had grown to want to hear. He grinned and stood up.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said, walking over to his comfortable chair. “You stay there and just follow my lead, okay?”

  “Uh, sure,” Annabelle sounded unconvinced, but she didn’t move. Dex logged into Marionette City and pinged Annabelle with a link. “What are you doing?” she protested. “I’m right here.”

  “Just shut up and follow the link.” He linked into the restaurant where they’d gone on that awful date and Annabelle appeared shortly thereafter.

  “Oh,” she said, a look of realization appearing on both her physical face and her avatar. Her avatar walked over to Dex, dressed in her usual business wear, which soon morphed into the shimmering fabric and bands outfit she’d had on for their abortive evening out. Dex quickly added his horrible date tie to his outfit and they were seated at a table. A bottle of wine appeared and Dex poured glasses for them both.

  “This way neither of us are happy,” he said aloud, causing Annabelle to shift focus briefly to Dex’s apartment. She first looked shocked, then smiled, using both sets of lips.

  “You are one funny guy, Andersson Dexter,” she said, also aloud.

  “I try,” he said. They sat in silence for a while, Dex looking at the Annabelle who sat across his apartment, Annabelle looking at Dex’s avatar.

  “It won’t be easy for me,” Annabelle said, finally. “Every part of me wants to walk out your door and find somewhere to hide where no one can see me.”

  “It’s bad for me, too,” Dex said. “I hate having to meet you in this bubble,” he waved his avatar’s arms in Marionette City, “when I could just reach out...” Annabelle flinched and Dex and his avatar smiled. He had his avatar reach out across the table and touch Annabelle’s hand. She took his hand in hers and smiled.

  “It doesn’t feel like anything to you, does it?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

  “No, it feels like something,” Dex said, sadly. “It feels like fraud, deception and insincerity.” Annabelle let his hand go and looked down.

  “We’ve got a long way to go, you and I,” she said.

  “Sure,” Dex said. “We’re all changing, all of us, all the time. People change and they grow apart. But, maybe sometimes it goes the other way, too.”

  Acknowledgments

  This book went through many incarnations and I owe many thanks to the members of my writing group who suffered though my early chapters: Kris Atwood, Linda Frear, Steven Ray Orr, Margaret Rolfe and particularly Josh MacLeod, who first invented The Cubicle Men, albeit in a very different form.

  I’m also deeply grateful to the many people who encouraged me after the release of Beautiful Red. Folks who stand out are Andrew Cornell, Steve Holden, Demian Petryshyn, Nobilis Reed and my mom, Shona Wehm.

  I’m eternally thankful for all the notes by email, twitter, facebook comments and carrier pigeon from people who like my work. They are worth more than any publishing contract to me.

  And as always, thanks to my first mate, Steven Ensslen, for everything.

  About the Author

  M. Darusha Wehm is a two-time Parsec Award finalist and author of the SF novels Beautiful Red, Self Made and Act of Will.

  Her short fiction has appeared in Thaumatrope Magazine, Podioracket’s Glimpses Anthology and Luna Station Quarterly.

  In the physical world, she was a civil servant with the Government of Canada and is now engaged more or less full-time in writing.

  • • •

  She is based in Victoria, BC, Canada and is currently living in New Zealand after sailing down the west coast of the Americas and across the Pacific Ocean with her partner, Steven, on their sailboat, Scream.

  For more information about her writing and her travels, visit Darusha on the web at https://darusha.ca.