“Pretty lucky. It’s not like I planned it.”
Then Nobody furrowed his brow. He stuck his hand into his pocket. The hood was still there. Something was wrong here.
Monday held up a pocket calculator, bigger and more elaborate than the one he used for his space machine. He turned it on.
“Of course,” he said, after studying it for about thirty seconds. “I can’t believe it. This is so freaking obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t make my own. Then again, it helps if you have your own fusion reactor in the basement to power this thing.”
From somewhere in the distance, there was another long farting noise.
“Simplicity,” said Monday, handing him the calculator. “You key in the time, date and year, hit the memory key. Here’s your ticket home, friend.”
“I’m not really your friend,” said Nobody, watching himself, wet with blood, leaning down to pick up the gun Katrina had dropped. He watched himself stealthily walk up behind Rex Monday.
Rex Monday’s breath caught in his throat as the gun barrel was placed to the back of his neck. Blood splashed over the front of Nobody’s shirt, drenching him. Nobody’s ears rang from the shot.
“Guns make us all superheroes,” said the Nobody holding the still smoking weapon. “Here’s the plan: Go to the library and set the time machine coordinates for five minutes ago, then give the hood to Katrina once more. Tell her Dr. Know can’t read her thoughts and show her the gun. She’ll volunteer to pull the trigger. Then pop ahead three minutes and pick up the gun from where she drops it. You know the rest.”
“OK,” said Nobody, as his duplicate handed him the gun. “Sounds like I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Go,” said the older, wiser Nobody. He watched himself leave the room and head for the library. He took a seat in Dr. Know’s command chair, the time machine in one hand, the space machine in the other.
“Nobody, Master of Time and Space,” he said with a deep voice, then giggled nervously. His body slackened as he sank into the chair. His blood-soaked shirt clung to his body. He was too tired to care. It was finally over.
He looked at the row of monitors, at broadcasts from around the world.
“You’re free,” he whispered, addressing the whole damn planet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
See, This is Why I Like You
Nobody found Sarah sunning herself by the pool of the biggest mansion in Dallas. The house made her father’s island residence look quaint and homey. He took a moment to steady himself as his stomach unknotted from the trip. By now he’d used the space machine a dozen times and was getting used to it.
She was reclining in a lounge chair, looking more relaxed than he’d ever seen her, and Sarah was someone who knew how to relax. She’d dyed her hair black, but somehow this didn’t change her appearance much.
She still hadn’t seen him. The space machine worked with eerie silence. He tried to figure out how he was going to say what he needed to say. The possible scripts kept getting tangled up in his head. What was the funny, clever way to say, “Hi, I’ve killed your father?”
So, at last, he just said, “Hi.”
Sarah tilted her head toward him, raising a hand to adjust her sunglasses.
“Richard?” she said.
“How you doing?” said Richard, looking back toward the house. “Pretty nice digs you got here.”
“Oh my God, it is you,” she said, sitting up.
“Is this a good ‘oh my God’ or a bad ‘oh my God?’” asked Richard.
“What are you doing here?” said Sarah.
“There’s a long story behind that,” said Richard. “But not a funny one.”
“Come on into the house,” said Sarah. “I’ll have Irwin fix us something to eat.”
Richard followed her, stealthily staring at her lithe, seductive body as she walked. She seemed more naked now in her bikini than she had when she actually was naked, lying beside him in the huge bed back at her father’s house. Did she ever think about those days, he wondered. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
They entered through the dining room, a huge open space framed by windows rather than walls. “Irwin!” Sarah yelled out.
A young man appeared in the doorway, dressed in a white butler’s uniform. Something about the puppy-dog look in his eyes as he looked at Sarah made Richard deeply uncomfortable.
“We have a visitor, Irwin. Fix us some sandwiches and lemonade,” said Sarah.
“Yes ma’am!” said Irwin.
“Oh, and Irwin?” said Sarah. “My guest is standing right next to me. You see him don’t you?”
“Of course!” said Irwin, who then turned and left.
“Huh,” said Richard. “I wish I’d known you could do that.”
“If he’s telling the truth,” said Sarah. “People lie to me to make me happy with astonishing frequency.”
“No surprise there,” said Richard. “You’re a hot babe. Plenty of men would lie to you even if you didn’t have your mind control powers.”
“I told you it’s not mind control,” said Sarah. “My power is nothing like Dad’s. I don’t get inside people’s heads.”
“You’re right. I’ve read your father’s files. He believed that you have a vibration in your voice that stimulates human pleasure centers. Obeying your words is like a dose of heroin to most people.”
“Great. Now I’m a drug.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Irwin is addicted,” said Sarah. “I caught him trying to steal my Porsche about six months ago. I could have turned him over to the police, but I figured I’d turn him into an honest citizen. Now he hangs on my every word even when I’m not using my powers on him.”
“That’s funny that you say he was stealing your Porsche,” said Richard, aware he was about to start a fight. “Didn’t you kind of steal it from the guy who used to own this house?”
“I see that my father’s file on me is complete. No surprise there. Yeah, I had Vincent Kay sign over the titles to his house and cars and boat to me. Why not? The man was the worst sleaze-bag CEO in America. If I hadn’t taken his toys he would have lost them all anyway after his stock bubble burst.”
“I suppose there’s a sort of Robin Hood justice there,” said Richard. “Taking from the rich to give to the, uh, to you.”
“Don’t judge me,” Sarah snapped. “I was homeless, OK? I didn’t have anywhere to go. My father has made my life almost as isolated and lonely as yours, Nobody.”
“That’s all the more reason to judge you,” said Richard. “You really think this is the best way to live your life? Hiding out here in this mansion, with your only companion a toady butler?”
“I call it my Batman plan,” said Sarah. “Minus the part where I put on a cape and fight crime.”
Richard grinned. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you, kid. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ll let you know whether I’ve missed you or not after you tell me why you’re here. You’ve been reading my father’s files. I assume he sent you.”
“Your father’s dead,” said Richard.
“Oh,” said Sarah. She sat down at the end of the long dining room table. “Oh,” she said, softly.
“So you’re free,” said Richard. “He’s not peeking into the thoughts of potential boyfriends anymore. You can make friends with anyone in the whole world. I suggest you start with your mother.”
As he said this, he dug into his pocket and pulled out two small disks the size of pencil erasers. He sat them on the table in front of Sarah.
“What are these?” she asked. “Pills?”
“Hearing aids. Sort of. Hearing blockers, I guess would be more accurate. Rex Monday had whipped them up for his henchmen to wear when they fought you. It blocks the frequency in your voice that activates pleasure centers. I think you should give these to your mother. I think the two of you could really benefit from talking to one another without her being scared of you.”
“These really block
my powers?” she said, picking them up.
“According to Rex Monday’s notes.”
“How have you been reading Rex Monday’s notes? What does he have to do with any of this?”
“Now, see, this is where it turns into a long story. The executive summary is that Rex Monday convinced me to help him kill your father. But I had my own agenda during this, and I managed to kill Rex Monday as well. Oh, and Rex Monday was your father’s evil twin.”
“You killed my father?”
“In the broad sense, yes. Your mother pulled the trigger, but it was my plan.”
“My mother kill… how? Why?”
“You know what you said about a life of loneliness and isolation? I think it went ever deeper with your mother. She felt trapped in a world she had no control over. When I put the gun into her hands, I think she realized she had a way to take control back.”
“Oh my God,” said Sarah, placing her elbows on the table, dropping her head into her hands. “Oh my God.”
“These are not good ‘oh my Gods,” said Richard.
“How did you expect me to react? Did you want me to be happy? To be grateful? I can’t believe this.”
“I didn’t know how you’d react. I could have kept it secret. You could have lived your life here and never found out. But that didn’t seem fair.”
Sarah sagged into her chair. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t look angry. She looked drained, stunned.
“I know this is a shock,” said Richard. “I hope you can forgive me one day. But, more importantly, I hope you can forgive your mother. She was caught up in something she couldn’t control for a very long time. Please don’t hate her.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Sarah. “My mother? She was so quiet and harmless. She was just a little statue in the library. How could she have done this? How?”
“You can ask her,” said Richard. “This might sound crazy, but, with those earplugs, and with your father out of the picture, this is a great time to get back in touch with her.”
“That does sound crazy,” said Sarah.
“Look,” said Richard. “I’m more to blame for this than she is. And I think I might have a little insight into this. You have a chance to do something that is forever lost to me. You can still talk with your mother. This is a second chance for you.”
Sarah toyed with the tiny hearing blockers.
“You know, it’s funny,” she said. “But I don’t hate you for this. I don’t hate you for killing my father, for coming here and judging me, for telling me how I should treat my mother. But…”
“But?”
“But I’ve hated you for a long time now for not coming to find me. I haven’t exactly been keeping myself secret. I’ve been mentioned in news stories as Vincent Kay’s ‘mistress.’ They’ve run photos of me in tabloids. I always thought you’d find me. But it took this to make you come here?”
“I’ve been a little unfocused for the last year,” said Nobody. “Sorry.”
“Do you still love me?” asked Sarah.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Not romantically,” said Richard. “But I hope we’ll be friends. This isn’t some kind of bullshit. I really enjoy your company.”
“So what changed?”
“You’ll kill me when I tell you.”
“How bad can it be compared to your killing my dad?”
“I might be in love with your sister. I’m hoping you’ll help me find her.”
Sarah cut him a glance that twisted his stomach worse than the space machine. He knew he’d gone too far in revealing this.
Then Sarah started to laugh.
“Wow,” she said. “I mean, wow. You have a lot of nerve, Nobody.”
“What do I have to lose?” he asked.
They continued to talk for the next few hours. Richard was relieved to discover he’d done the right thing. With everything out in the open, Sarah seemed more curious than angry about what had happened. He told her about the fight between Rail Blade and Dr. Know, about the mansion being cut in half, what had happened in the garden, about his lost year wandering the country, and everything he knew about Rex Monday up to and including how he died.
“It makes perfect sense,” said Sarah, after hearing about the time loop that had put the gun back into his hands.
“See, this is why I like you,” said Richard.
Later that night, Richard demonstrated his space machine. One moment they were standing on the patio outside the dining room of the mansion, the next they were standing in Dr. Know’s museum and Sarah was throwing up onto the metal toes of a two-story-tall robotic ostrich.
“Don’t… do that again,” said Sarah. “Jesus, that has to be the worst way to travel ever.”
“I rode a bus across North Carolina once,” said Richard. “The space machine just takes getting used to.”
Sarah wiped her mouth as she looked around the museum. “I never thought I’d admit it, but I’ve missed this place.”
“I guess it’s home again for you, if you want. It’s got to be less lonely than that mansion. Use those earplugs. Talk to your mother.”
“OK. Is Paco still here?”
“Paco? The chef?”
“Yeah.”
“I think so.”
“Good. Irwin could barely make toast.”
“I’m glad you can see the upside to this. Especially so soon after throwing up.”
“So what’s next for you?” said Sarah.
“I’ll keep looking for Amelia. She needs to know that the war between your father and Rex Monday is over. And, of course, I want to find out if she ever thinks about me.”
“That’s it. Rub it in,” said Sarah. “I’m still having a hard time getting my head around this. On my brother’s grave? Ew.”
“I didn’t pick the spot,” Richard said, apologetically.
“And you have no clue where she is now? It’s not in my father’s files?”
“All I have is those weird videos of her in a desert, and a map with an X on it I can’t even begin to figure out.”
“Let me have a look,” said Sarah.
As they moved toward the door, Sarah looked overhead.
Richard looked up to the empty ceiling.
“Huh,” she said. “I wonder what Dad did with the spaceship?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Moonslight
And so it was that Nobody went to Mars.
It took a little while to piece together. Sarah’s contacts at NASA needed a few weeks to match the map up to satellite photos. Then a generous grant from Katrina Knowbokov set the entire Cambridge University math department working on extrapolating Rex Monday’s coordinate system for the space machine to a number sequence appropriate for another planet. Richard spent the time testing the spacesuit Dr. Know had whipped together for Mindo on her trip to the moon. It was comically large on him, but airtight.
On Christmas morning, when the air was still and silent, Richard tapped in the coordinates, hit enter, and took the biggest leap of faith he had ever taken.
On Earth, the transposition of points on the curvature of space felt close to instantaneous. The swap of information occurred at the speed of light, and there were no two points on Earth where this took more than a fraction of a second.
Given the relative positions of the two planets on that Christmas morning, it took twenty minutes for the transit.
Richard went insane. There was no way of comprehending the realms he passed through. It was a void of unending darkness where everything glowed with a blinding light. It was a blast furnace that blistered his skin and left his teeth chattering beneath a casing of ice. Only he didn’t always have teeth and skin. Sometimes his skin would just vaporize away, at other times his individual teeth danced before him in a delicate pearly arc. His mind snapped at this, shattering into a thousand jagged shards. Part of him stood, dispassionate, distant, watching his twisting body against the pure white screen of the unspace. He nodde
d slowly, coolly, contemplating the painful things happening before him, but no longer truly aware of the pain of his head being forced through the loops of his own intestines.
Even without a mouth, Richard said, “Get your head out of your ass.”
The world stopped dancing. His teeth flew back into his mouth. His eyes tugged back into their sockets with disgusting wet plops. The blank white screen before him became blowing red sand as he fell to his knees, which were now, thankfully, where they should be, and not glued on backwards.
And then he went sane, staring at his gloved hand in the red sand. At least he thought he was sane. “I am sane,” he said. It didn’t sound crazy to say this.
He had fallen down. Immediately before him was the glass of his visor, and beyond this were sand and pebbles and his glove. He had an excellent view of them. His stomach was oddly quiet. The anti-nausea medicine he’d taken had worked.
He lay there for a moment, fascinated by the sand six inches from his face. This was Mars. He was laying face down on Mars. Why had this seemed like a good idea?
Then he remembered why he was here. He grew vaguely aware of his arms and legs and managed to move them. He flailed about, unsure which way was up, until finally he realized he had achieved a sitting position. No longer limited to the view six inches from his face, Richard looked around the rocky landscape. He was near a red cliff, with a wall as straight as if it had been measured off with a chalk line. The seamless barricade gleamed like red glass in the feeble sunlight. Perhaps a football field in height, it stretched as far as he could see in both directions. As he looked around, he could see a second wall opposite him, perhaps a mile away, a crisp, dark line running parallel to the wall he was near.
And above that, shimmering in the sun like a mirage, was a steel dome. He let out a long, slow whistle.
He began to walk. It was oddly difficult, given how light he felt. The sand beneath him was very fine; it was like walking on talcum powder. He tried jumping. He could launch himself twenty feet across the landscape with little effort, but the many brick-size stones that jutted up from the sand made landings tricky. Only luck kept him from breaking a leg or an ankle the few times he tried.
Modern Magic Page 231