by Gary Starta
A dehydrated and desert-worn Charlize hung over the shoulder of the boy king, Tut. In this past, the boy apparently never died to bear the fate of a regenerate. But of all people, I asked aloud, how had he managed to find our sweet Charlize?
He pointed to the cat. Shy and reserved, he gave credit to the cat goddess, Bast. “She led me to her. Amidst all the uproar and confusion, we scoured the dunes. I knew I would find something regal there and I did.” He smiled, boyish. “We were blessed by the gods today.”
We undraped Charlize from his shoulder where Brahms met her in a head-on charge, as if he were every bit a football tackle and not a pallid bookworm.
He kissed her hands for long moments, on his knees in the sand. A fire behind us gave me brief glimpse of her sweet face. I could see happiness, I could see survival, but I also could detect guilt. I discovered it on my face a few times after wrapping up cases. I recognized it even in dim firelight. I wrapped a shawl about her and prayed she would be brave to face it.
For moments afterwards I engaged in sobbing bursts of joy. I thought I might cry enough tears to inundate the desert. My beloved Bast was back in my arms. But curiosity nagged at me. If I’d separated from Isis, why hadn’t Bastet the goddess separated from my feline? Torrential rains interrupted. We all welcomed the rain and like the ancient Egyptians took the deluge as an omen, none of us seeking cover, each of us existing…among the elements.
* * * *
Charlize’s courage arrived quicker than anticipated. What else could I expect from such a supreme being?
She held Brahms’ hands in hers as her father remained kneeling in sand. “Father,” she began, “I felt as if I should not be here. That man you hated, Fenton, he is the reason I still exist.”
Brahms nodded for her to continue.
“He set a countdown. He realized the Capitol Building would be decimated once the harmonic oscillator took Zep Tepi offline. A part of me knew this as well. But as the moments to destruction decreased, I knew I had to get back to you. Fenton said only one of us needed to stay, to assure the right oscillation would be reached. I argued he should go, not me. But then I saw your face, in my mind’s eye. I had to see you again, my father. So I agreed to leave. I ran and ran. I exited the building and the explosion knocked me into sand. I was unconscious for some time. Until Tut and Bast found me.”
“What you have done is nothing to be ashamed of. It is me who should be ashamed. You call me your father despite the years I abandoned you. You are precious, you are not human but more than a human could hope to be—”
“I don’t know about that, father. I just couldn’t live without seeing you again. And I know you abandoned me for a reason, for my safety.”
Brahms grunted something unintelligible among a stream of tears. They both stumbled to their feet and they embraced. Then, Brahms shook Tut’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you.”
I guess Charlize and Tut were fated to meet. No question.
But Brahms’ unexpected reunion threw a chink into our plans.
“I can’t take the position. I just can’t. I must return with Charlize to our lives.” Brahms was adamant.
I understood. There had to be a way to appease everyone. We had come so far in a span of a day. I simple advised him to rest. “Sleep on it, Brahms. You’ll think of a solution.”
* * * *
In the morning, we had a solution and another coming.
“Clone yourself?” I asked.
“Yes, it can be done, with the Labyrinth’s assistance of course. I can make another me. He can stay aboard the Labyrinth. Live the glorious life I always imagined, discovering all the secrets of the universe, one by one.”
We managed to pass that by Indra. Don’t ask me how. Even Brahms had said a replicate couldn’t do the original justice. But I guess love clouded some of his judgment. I think Indra allowed some of this love to factor into his decision. Maybe all those eyes were there to see every facet of us. There was a lot to uncover behind our facades of deception, namely love, frailty and hope.
We needed one more favor of Indra if were to return home. The five of us—Brahms, Briana, Bastet, Charlize and I were official hitchhikers of this universe and in need of a lift. The Labyrinth was out along with any possibility of bringing an Ennead or Siriusite ship back to our present, further polluting its timeline.
Now I wanted to request a night’s sleep. But faster than I could rest my head on Egyptian cotton, I thought of it. The bubbles!
Chapter 25
Reformation
My present-day alternate world behaved as if it were mind-spelled. This time it was not from gods or goddesses but from temporal mechanics. Brahms was correct about us messing with timelines. Although no one seemed to remember the gods’ presence or the demons’ disappearance, there were consequences.
Yes, the demons were back as if they never went missing. I had no way to conduct a census but the incubus Justin Manners and Sandy the Succubus were accounted for. I surreptitiously requested each to keep a paranormal ear to the preternatural community claiming we feared demon abductions from our ever-nagging hate group, i.e. the White Knights. Their acknowledgement confirmed nothing much had changed in this regard.
Eva Fleming was alive. But she wasn’t the president. She was Deputy Director of the FBI. You might say that kind of consequence was lottery-worthy. But on the downside, the aforementioned Seals still existed here, and he was the Commander in Chief.
Ouch!
Demons really needed allies now more than ever.
Chuck Grant was still my direct superior. Good thing because it was him I called when we arrived on the shores of the present day Nile, freshly sprung from our bubbles. The ride in the gooey ectoplasm was a one of a kind, indescribable experience, one I was certain I wouldn’t want to repeat. I felt we would all be crushed in the water currents of the Nile’s past and present during every mind-bending second. But then we rolled on shore as if newborns to this world and Briana’s magic hatched us.
We were freed and also quite nameless, not one of us carrying ID. I force-fed a phony surveillance story to Chuck; one I couldn’t quite believe. We were supposedly tracking preternatural gun smugglers from DC to Egypt, deep in undercover. That’s why Brahms and Charlize—who Briana claimed were distant relatives—agreed to tag along with us to make us appear as if a family. Grant thought taking Bast along was a bit much. She hissed at his remark. Chuck ignored her thankfully, sending FBI aircraft to retrieve us. Bast purred during the flight home in Chuck’s lap, all insults forgiven. She was always so much more than a cat. But now, she inarguably was. Somewhere in her genetic makeup, the goddess Bastet resided much like the way I existed with Isis. I couldn’t feel her presence though. This nagged me along with other unexplained phenomena. Why had I split with Isis and the Bastet’s remained cojoined?
Grant behaved as if we never dated. A new photo adorned his desk. A blond woman I assumed might be his wife in this altered timeline. I felt happy for him. I felt horrible about the way I distanced myself from Stanford Carter. If he were still here in this universe, hybrid human/demon or not; I would make this up to him.
But romance would have to remain on the back burner. Once we settled into our normal routines, Brahms, via Charlize, sent me an RSVP to his warehouse laboratory. I would find I had another world to consider.
* * * *
“It works, Agent Diggs. You can go home to your sister, your world!” Brahms maintained his teleportation machine remained unaffected from the time shifts. Although I didn’t doubt him, I realized going home was a one-way ticket. There was no machine to open a portal to ever come back.
I hugged the man who’d chosen to come back to his existing world rather than experience all the marvels of the universe the Labyrinth had to offer. His clone was now enjoying those perks. But Brahms enjoyed a family now. Not only were he and Charlize fully enamored with each other; in this time shift, the Ukranian dentist Federov was his wife. I was so happy Charlize had a complete f
amily. I would always be her godmother in spirit I told her, even if I chose to leave this universe.
I just couldn’t be ungrateful to Brahms. Even though my heart informed me leaving was not an option, I promised him I would sleep on his offer.
* * * *
Sleep proved more confusing, expressly the dreaming part.
A vision in my slumber transported me to the doorstep of Brahms’ lab. I was about to knock and open the door when I heard muffled speech.
The investigator in me prevented me from entering. I eavesdropped for no reason other than my nature. Inside were Brahms, Briana and Charlize—my closest buds. No reason to fear conspiracy here.
But my dream proved me wrong. I had been deceived! By them all!
Fury engulfed me. I felt the sting of my tattoo on my shoulder. It confirmed I was in a dream vision meaning it portended something real. I couldn’t pass off what transpired next on a nightmare, although it felt like the worst bad dream I ever had.
Brahms was busy trying to settle down a perturbed Briana. They weren’t debating magic verses science. They were arguing about me.
“We had no other option. Isis and Caitlin could have never parted ways genetically. One of them would have always remained dormant. The past needs Isis, the present needs Diggs. Even Isis agreed. Why do you doubt we did the wrong thing now?”
“Then we must inform her, this woman here is a copy, a clone. She can’t live her life thinking otherwise.”
This is when they agreed to create a dream vision. It would occur upon my return. That being right now…
Dream form didn’t mitigate the pain. It did make me feel nauseous. Imagine if someone told you that you weren’t real. And I imagined that person as Charlize. For all intents and purposes I was here as a creation…
But I had all Caitlin’s memories and…feelings. I thought just like her…
That’s how Brahms engineered it. It would allow Caitlin Diggs a chance to remain true to her calling and I—the very essence of Caitlin—would be forced to obey. It was a flawless plan. My nature would never allow me to behave otherwise. The past would benefit from Isis’ love. Diggs would remain with her dormant. Perhaps some part of her conscious would realize this. If she ever did, I hoped the original Caitlin would embrace her goddess hood.
I was resigned but still angry, feeling duped. They must have engineered me some time before we jumped to the past. Brahms fed me the weak assumption that the time jump had separated us. I knew that wasn’t true. I wasn’t a scientist but if the Bastet’s didn’t separate why would I? Furthermore, why did the Isis hybrid appear younger? There had been some manipulation of the hybrid being as well. It must have allowed the exact copying of my memories, my persona, my being. Caitlin’s being. I was her. At least up until the memory transfer. I shared all of her existence. I would use those memories to honor her and help this world.
I woke from the dream, shoulder stinging. They even copied the tattoo accurately. A mental inventory intimated I was more adept with my paranormal abilities than the original Caitlin had been. How else was I able to stave off an angry god’s balefire?
Bast hopped onto my chest, purring. As if I was her master. That led to more theorizing. We had learned so much about the ancient gods. Namely, they weren’t really gods, but advanced aliens. Yet, there were more advanced aliens out there. Indra was proof. Question was, who did Indra answer to? He revealed the Labyrinth was biogenic in nature. But that the Siriusites weren’t its creators. The universe was onion-like with many layers. I supposed we could have asked the blue essence for more answers; it seemed to be the first intelligent organism, preexisting humankind. Could we ever connect to this blue world in the present day, or was our Earth too polluted for such discourse? Maybe the clone Brahms of the past would eventually find a way to send the answers to us.
In the meantime I learned I was not only equipped to be better than the original Caitlin but adaptable. I would meet my master over lunch.
* * * *
We dined at the most covert eatery I could think of—Jay’s Café. I stabbed a fork into a heaping plate of fries. I guess I really was Caitlin’s replica, junk food junkie and all.
Briana, Brahms and Charlize allowed me to finish three quarters of my plate before interrupting. Wise choice…I eventually dropped my fork and winced. “Okay, that was so good. Now I can deal with you three conspirators.”
They took me seriously, especially Charlize. “I think Bastet would have agreed if we had means to ask her. I know it was selfish. But I had to have you back in some form. And I just knew the original Caitlin would never agree to be so self-serving…”
I used my long reach to thwart any of her defenses. Before she knew it, I had a mop of her hair in my hand. I tousled it until she surrendered to laughter.
“See you guys. I’m not mad.” I lifted a fork to take another fry and shot a conspiratorial glance at them. “Brahms’s engineering probably prevents me from kicking your asses, anyway.”
Brahms furrowed his brows and wrestled my free hand into his. “Please, Agent Diggs. You will never be anyone other than Caitlin to us. We don’t want to control you. In fact, my offer still stands. You may return to your former world if you wish…”
“But I wouldn’t be my former self there would I? I don’t think I would be doing my sister Tara any favors. Besides, I’m sure she and Celeste have settled into their new lives without me. Ultimately, I must answer my calling.” I took my hand from Brahms’ and rapped knuckles on the table. “FBI, she’s my love, always will be no matter what universe or what incarnation I take.”
Briana filled me on some unsettling consequences of our time-shifting. In the coming weeks, all government employees would be subject to a psychic imprinting test. Apparently, technology now embraced the paranormal. In any event, the test I had feared had become reality.
I would have to cop to being another Caitlin. It wouldn’t sound good but because Eva Fleming was alive, I hadn’t conspired to poison her; I wasn’t an unwitting killer in this here and now identity theft was my one crime; one under past circumstances might be tolerable to an open-minded Deputy Director.
But the situation was more complicated as Brahms would attest.
“You see, Caitlin. As a clone, you don’t carry a psychic imprint. You wouldn’t even register as human…”
Charlize intervened. “Don’t worry, Caitlin. I’m here for you.”
I smiled at the genetically-engineered mage. Now we really were a family.
I sipped at my iced tea. “Then there’s no other option but full disclosure.”
Everyone stared agog. “What,” I asked, “you don’t think we have bargaining chips?” I smiled at what everyone perceived to be thin air. Stanford Carter had just entered Jay’s and he had winked at me.
* * * *
In less than two weeks I was proved right. Deputy Director Eva Fleming and Assistant Director Chuck Grant bought my story—for their benefit. They both grimaced as I revealed how this universe’s Caitlin had died, how she was replaced and replaced yet again as a clone. Fleming gasped to learn of her presidency, her murder, the demon disappearance.
Chuck sat through it all placid. He smiled at the end. “I just knew you weren’t tracking preternatural gun smugglers in Egypt. But if you should ever need to…contact me for help first.”
Everything seemed normal as could be. Better in fact because Seals was absent.
You might ask why they didn’t just haul me off to jail. I will tell you in one word—asset.
I was not only a supercharged paranormally-gifted special agent, but a programmable clone. One which could be tweaked to accommodate special missions; bottom line, I was just too damn valuable to lock away.
Fleming even agreed to my other demands—she referred to them as requests. Brahms and Charlize would no longer have to cower from the government or the White Knights. They would enjoy protection as official consultants to the FBI. I knew the White Knights wouldn’t be so stupid as t
o harm police. I had to hope the hate group would see the error of their ways like Fenton and realize any attempt to rid this world of demons could only conclude in the extinction of humanity.
I was so happy to have my team, my family together. Yes, I was convinced. I was the real Caitlin. And no, I’m not delusional…
Okay, maybe a little. I edged my thumb along my shield, my modern day amulet, and smiled at no one in particular as I exited the J. Edgar Hoover Building, realizing whatever force in this universe might be foolish enough to preternaturally mess with innocents had Caitlin Diggs to deal with. Clone or not, I was FBI and I wasn’t going away anytime soon.