Devon could feel the blood drain from his face.
“Execution?” he repeated hollowly.
Lalo nodded.
“And if I’m still occupying Edwin at that point?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose you both die.”
The force field Lalo had entered through powered down once more, and the two robot guards standing post outside entered. They stood on either side of Devon as a hologram flickered to life just above the table’s surface. It was a man in judge’s robes, looking stern.
“Oh good,” Lalo said. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to hang around all day.”
“All rise,” buzzed one of the guards. Lalo stood but Devon was still trying to process what was happening. The guards grabbed him forcefully under his arms and hoisted him to his feet.
“The people versus Devon Zayre,” the judge intoned in a bored voice. “On the charge of murder, the court finds the defendant guilty. Execution to be performed within the hour.” He banged a gavel and the hologram faded.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Lalo said, nodding. “Tough luck. Nice knowing you.”
“Wait a minute!” Devon shouted, but Lalo was already through the force field and gone. The guards left as well, and Devon sat back down in utter disbelief. Where the judge’s hologram had been, a clock appeared, counting down from 59:59. Devon watched it helplessly.
With five minutes left, the outer door opened and a man dressed all in black with a glowing weapon slung over his shoulder stepped in. He approached one of the guards.
“Devon Zayre?” the man asked.
“Affirmative,” the guard buzzed.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get this done. I have lunch plans.”
The force field died once again and the guards rolled in on either side of Devon. They gripped his arms tight and held him in the chair as he began to struggle.
“You can’t do this!” Devon shouted.
“Oh, I think you’ll find that I can, son,” the man in black said, pulling his weapon off his shoulder and powering it up.
“No! Please! Don’t!”
“Not to worry,” the man said. “It’s completely painless, I promise.”
The man raised the weapon and took aim. Devon tensed his body, held his breath, and closed his eyes.
He heard a loud discharge of energy, and then nothingness.
He woke up screaming, not knowing where he was, when he was, or even if he was.
His vision was filled with glimpses of CallosumCorp technicians in their red jumpsuits trying their best to hold him down as he thrashed and writhed on the anti-grav bed.
“Devon!” he could hear a familiar voice shouting in his ear. It was Mr. Sine. “Devon! Calm down! You’re all right! Calm down!”
As the surroundings sank into his consciousness, Devon slowly relaxed his body. He could hear the technicians breathing heavily from the exertion of trying to control him. As it became more and more clear that he wasn’t going to injure himself or anyone else, the technicians let go and backed away, nodding. Only Mr. Sine remained at the head of the bed. Devon blinked a few times to clear his vision and could see beads of sweat on Mr. Sine’s forehead.
“Are you all right?” asked Mr. Sine at last. Devon was able to nod. He could feel his heartbeat gradually returning to normal.
“My God,” Mr. Sine said. “What the hell happened?”
Haltingly, his voice hoarse, Devon recounted everything that had happened on his futurcation. By the time he was finished, Mr. Sine looked livid.
“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath. He turned to Devon. “I am so, so sorry this happened to you. You see, what those people in the future don’t realize is that they exist in one possible future. Which is to say, they don’t really exist at all until the future actually happens. So when they were trying to prosecute you for a crime, it was only in their timeline that the crime happened. In an infinite number of other timelines, everything would have been fine. It’s truly unfortunate that you got mapped to that particular future. CallosumCorp has a 100% satisfaction guarantee, and I will refund your credits immediately.”
Now that Devon knew he was safe and back in his own time, he was much calmer. “So does this mean I’m not going to murder Lance Cassaday?”
“Well, there’s no way for me to say for certain that you won’t,” Mr. Sine said. “But with the knowledge you have now, I find it very difficult to believe you ever would. Certainly not on purpose.”
“No,” Devon said. “I’m taking my refunded credits and moving as far away from Lance Cassaday as they’ll take me.”
Once again on his favorite stool at The Depths, Devon filled Lou in on everything that had happened to him.
“Now that,” Lou said simply, “is one hell of a story.”
“Yeah, maybe I should write a book about it, huh?” Devon asked, sipping his drink. “Oh wait. The paperwork I signed at CallosumCorp says I can’t talk about anything that happened there.”
“Don’t worry,” Lou said, his cyborg eye going dark and then brightening again in an approximation of a wink. “I’ll never tell.”
“You were always a good one, Lou,” Devon said, hoisting a drink to the old man. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Any thoughts about where you’ll go?”
“Well, I’ve heard Celestial City is nice,” Devon said. “And it’s up and coming. Should be plenty of construction jobs for an experienced guy like me.”
“Celestial City,” Lou echoed. “My sister lives there. Loves it. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
Devon slid off his stool, laid some credits down on the bar, and extended his hand to Lou, who shook it.
“I’ll keep in touch,” Devon said. “And if I’m ever in town again, I’ll be sure to stop by.”
“See that you do.”
“So long, Lou.”
“So long, Devon.”
As Devon crossed the room, the front door swung open, letting in the bright light and noise of the sidewalk beyond. A tall, scraggly man with a drunken gait stumbled in and knocked over the nearest table.
“Hey!” Lou called to him. “I ain’t serving you, so just turn around and get out of here!”
The man reached inside his coat and pulled out an atomizing pistol. Everyone in the bar froze, including Devon. The man aimed the weapon straight at Lou.
“Gimme all the credits you got,” the scraggly man slurred. “Now.”
Lou didn’t even raise his hands. “Buddy, I work my ass off day in and day out to earn my keep. And nobody, especially not some flea-bitten, rat-faced—”
Lou never finished the insult. The man squeezed the trigger, but at the last possible second, Devon shoved the man’s arm so his shot went wide. It blasted a hole in the wall right next to Lou’s head.
The man turned his attention to Devon. He swung his weapon hand at Devon’s face, but in his drunken state, he missed, and Devon was able to grab the man’s wrist. Now they were struggling for the weapon, which was pointed at the ceiling.
Devon kicked the man in the midsection and he doubled over, and Devon was able to yank the atomizer from his hands and toss it to Lou, who caught it deftly. The man managed to connect a punch to Devon’s midsection and all of the wind was driven out of him. Gasping, he centered his hand on the man’s chest and pushed as hard as he could. The man stumbled backward, fell head over heels across a table, and landed on the floor with a sickening crack that could only be a broken neck.
The silence was deafening after the brawl. Devon got to his feet, panting, and Lou shuffled over to him.
“Kid,” Lou said, worried. “Kid, are you okay?”
Devon nodded.
“You saved my life, kid,” Lou said, choking up a bit. “You saved me.”
Devon nodded again. “Wasn’t gonna let . . . a punk like that . . . kill you,” he wheezed, still holding his stomach. “That’s my job.”
Lou grinned and patted Devon’s shoulder. He moved over to the man on the floor an
d checked on him.
“Dead,” he called to Devon and the few barflies who were watching closely.
“Who was he?” Devon asked. “He have ID?”
Lou turned the body slightly and used his artificial eye to scan the barcode on the back of the dead man’s neck. He looked up at Devon in sudden alarm.
“Lance Cassaday.”
Devon’s blood ran cold. As if on cue, he could hear the sound of distant, wailing sirens.
“Run, kiddo,” Lou said urgently. “Run!”
ALSO AVAILABLE
BY STEPHEN LOMER
Stargazer Lilies or Nothing at All
Typo Squad
Typo Squad Book II: Return of the Wordmonger
Belle’s Christmas Carol
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A grammar nerd, Star Trek fan, and other things that chicks dig, Stephen Lomer is the author of the popular novel Typo Squad, and the short story collections Stargazer Lilies or Nothing at All and B.B. and Red, and the holiday novella Belle’s Christmas Carol. He’s been a finalist in the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge numerous times, and has featured stories in the anthologies Once Upon a Time in Gravity City and My Peculiar Family II.
Stephen is the creator, owner, and a regular contributor to the website Television Woodshed. He’s a hardcore fan of the Houston Texans, despite living in the Hub of the Universe his whole life, and believes Mark Twain was correct about pretty much everything.
Stephen lives on Boston’s North Shore with his wife, Teresa.
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