by Agster, Joe
He leans toward her ear, not wanting anyone to hear, and gently whispers. “Your father sent me. He saw the future, your future. You know what you need to do.”
He backs away, gracing her with a determined smile. He stares into her intoxicating eyes, a bit tortured that he decided to leave her, but gratified to be putting her on this course, even if it’s futile. He then parts with these words, “Keep your device handy.”
Friend turns around and walks away. He feels the longing of her being, her gravity pulling him in, like the mass of a hundred planets. He will see her again he convinces himself. But Cassie is perplexed. She feels like she may have met the man of her destiny, and he just walked out of her life. Were those parting words meant to mean she will see him again? She is overcome with this enigma, the revelation that suddenly changed her life. Should she go after him and demand closure? She fights it off, basking in the wonder, yet somehow knowing that she will see him again.
Friend heads to the Uvia to meet Max in the lounge. The goal is to solve what seems to be the final variable of the equation, getting word to him before he begins his route to Las Vegas. The cold night sets it, normally routine, but amplified by the weight of the unknown of whether they will be raided.
There’s already a dark connotation Friend has with this lounge, being that last time the FBI stormed them there. He is clearly uncomfortable, but will need to brave its bad aura to get to the bottom of things. It’s the mission, he reminds himself. It’s all that matters. Solve this last riddle, then get to the bunker with Cassie.
He sits in the open chair opposite of Max. Max is unusually more at ease, his calm demeanor almost tricking Friend into thinking he’s someone else. Friend feels a strange relief that he must have accomplished something he otherwise had not with this latest twist of events. Other than that, he is hoping for an answer.
“So Max, how do I get you the message?”
Max suddenly has this look of elation, blissfully unaware of Friend’s question. Max then reveals, “My ex-wife called me. We talked for a while and I told her everything I know. She’s been assigned to the underground facility in Pennsylvania, along with my two sons. She told me she was proud of what I was doing. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never heard her use the word ‘proud’ when talking about me.”
Friend senses his moment of happiness for him and disregards the fact that he just totally deflected his question. Instead, Friend wonders about something else. “Doesn’t that put her in danger?”
“Oh no, not really. In her line of work she has protections in place. Besides, it was over a secured line. They can’t trace it.”
There is a quiet pause to reflect on what he just said. Max takes a deep breath before switching back to Friend’s topic. “I’ve thought about it. The best way to warn me is to prevent me from buying the device in the first place. I checked the receipt. I bought it at 9:55 this morning, at a store called The Grasshopper. The store is located in the city of Fontana, near the Wayward Mall. I bought it from a sales associate named Juan.”
“This is great, Max!” Friend excitedly responds, getting ready to stand up, arms clenched to the chair rests as he eager the leave this horrid lounge.
“There’s one more thing. This Juan was a bit pushy, so he’ll need some convincing. Tell him the message is urgent, from my ex-wife. Tell him in lieu of a sale I’ll reward him when I arrive.”
Friend shakes Max’s hand and says his goodbye, imparting on him one last “thank you” as he finally can relieve himself from the bad vibe of that lounge.
He walks back to the Metropolitan hotel, to get a room for the night, battling the swaths of travelers like he always does. And as always, it is a pleasure to speak to Juna, his favorite attendant.
With his room tag he has access to the business center. It is a large room with several computer terminals and machines that make printed materials. Friend has observed its use before, and in recalling an instinctive background with technology, figures it out as he goes. These computers are much cruder than what he senses he’s dealt with before his memory loss. But they are enough to research and locate the contact information for this Grasshopper store. With that information now committed to memory, Friend heads to his room for the night.
Day 6 – December 31
On the buzzing afternoon of the final day, Friend sits in his room, people watching the partygoers through his high window, watching as hoards more come as the minutes tick away. He had long given up on finding Max, concluding that the FBI got to him as they always do. It’s too bad, he would have enjoyed the festivities. As Friend reflects on his disappearance, he turns around to face the interior of his room, ready to attend to one final piece of business.
It’s time to check in on Cassie, to test her promise. This is his experiment of sorts. With a few days to mull over their interaction, she must have questions. In one passing at the door to the Vyxx the last time she felt something, so he can imagine what the she must have felt this particular time.
He uses the holophone in his room, which still works, even in the final hours of civilization. He pulls her device number from memory, sweating a little as he speaks it into the holographic keypad. The tiny moment of connecting to her device leaves him in a state of fluster, anticipating what she’ll say.
“Hello?” Her face appears on the hologram. Crude and discolored, but enough to see the mannerisms of her face.
“Hi Cassie, It’s me,” he declares, not giving himself away, hoping she’ll remember him. He then asks, “Did you make it to Mexico?”
“You?” she responds, with a hint of confusion. The hologram momentarily breakups, and continues to have static interference, but Friend can see a tear, perhaps a sniffle, before a pause to take a deep breath.
“We did make it to Mexico, to Acapulco. You were right.” A crack in her voice forces her to pause again. He can feel the swell of emotion in her voice. “It took us a while. We breezed across the border in El Paso. We then got stuck in this town called Ciudad Hidalgo two days ago, but we made it.”
“I’m glad to hear it Cassie. Take care.” Friend replies, trying to hang up, before he is overcome with emotion, joy that she remembered him, but sadness that he isn’t there with her.
“Wait.” She speaks softly, yet urgently, continuing, “I know who you are, what you call yourself… you call yourself Friend, right?”
How can this be? This mind is spinning at the thought, this is better than he could have imagined, as perplexing as it is. They share a connection, he’s not sure how, but it is apparent.
She goes on to explain, “It’s strange. It took me a while to understand it, but it’s like I’ve always known your name, like I’ve known you my whole life.” She cries, finally succumbing to the longing, and from the closure she finally got.
He assures her, “Cassie. Hey. Don’t be sad. It’s not over, you know this. We’ll see each other again, somehow, some way.”
She regains her composure to say one final thing, “I know, Friend. I know.”
Then she hangs up.
11
Iteration 7
It takes Friend a while to temper his passion when it comes to Cassie. He intrinsically knows that his nature is much more cold blooded, calculating, intensely focused. But when it comes to her he transforms into something else. He worries that once he discovers his true self, he may not like who he is. Or perhaps this current reality is just one big test, designed to elicit this new, more passionate side of him. If that was the case, his quest would be over already.
He jogs over to the Mini Mart, delighted in the belief that he is close to his goal. At this time in the morning, Juan should be at his store, trying to sell devices and other toys to unassuming customers. Will he be convinced to go along? If not, it becomes a process of trial and error. The plan seems foolproof enough—if Max never purchases the device, it will stave off the FBI just long enough for the group to escape to Hanford. All he needs to do now is find a phone to call the
store.
“Hello, kind merchant. I need to use a phone.” Friend greets the merchant, and always receives the same smirk in return. The merchant always takes kind to Friend, even as he has grown in knowledge of this current world.
“Over there, friend. It’s voice only though. I just need to sell you a call tag.”
Friend pays the merchant, along with the cost for this new type of beverage he needs to try: iced coffee, something he heard about on day six just yesterday. He takes a sip… and wow! The delicious, cold roasted taste and oncoming rush of the caffeine boost that follows it is enjoyable.
He looks at his watch and sees that it’s 8:58. Early enough, he figures. He finds the phone, puts his wrist in close proximity, and dials the number.
“The Grasshopper, devices and gadgets. What can I do for you this morning?” The young lady answers through the speaker, fast spoken yet cheerful.
“I’m looking for a man named Juan. I am told he works at your device mercantile exchange. Can I speak to him about an urgent matter?”
The cheerful girl pauses at his odd vernacular before putting him on hold. About forty-five seconds pass then a man with a lower, husky voice begins speaking. “This is Juan.”
“Juan, listen to be carefully. This is a matter of national security. A customer is going to walk through your store in about an hour, an older, stocky gentleman by the name of Max. He’s going to inquire about a prepaid device. I need you to deliver this message.”
Juan interrupts, “Who is this?”
Friend, unsure what to say at first, decides to make it up. “I work for his wife, Julianna. Listen, he must not buy any device. Tell him to go to the hotel first. If you can do this, Max will compensate you for the lost sale.”
There is a moment of silence. “This is a bizarro request. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Friend hangs up. He can only hope dropping his wife’s name will spur Max into resisting the purchase.
With this done, Friend wonders, how much will the timeline be altered? The only thing certain that won’t change is the car Max drives, as he’s already procured it. But the time of arrival, where he parks, all of that will change. He better be prepared, and get to the parking garage early.
The rest of the plan can now take shape. Friend repeats the same steps, buying the two sets of clothes. When his watch reads 15:00, he makes his way to the Uvia hotel. He checks the hotel registration area, and with no Max present, heads for the parking garage.
Max arrives at 15:16 this time, Friend notes. Without delay, without letting him even exit his vehicle, Friend runs to the passenger side and knocks. It startles Max, and he throws Friend a disgusted look. After the initial silence, Friend figures he needs to say something. “It was me that told the store not to sell you that device.”
Without delay, Max unlocks the door, allowing Friend to enter. “Hi Max. My name is Friend. I hope you didn’t buy any other device.”
“No I didn’t. So what is this about? How do you know Julianna?” Max demands.
“The FBI is tracking you. When you buy a prepaid device, they track it since there are only so many being sold, and even less headed to Vegas. Had you had bought one, you would have accidentally turned it on during your travels.”
Friend goes on to explain the plan, referencing Julianna and his suicide attempt, their assignment to a bunker in Pennsylvania, his bistro appointment at 17:00, and most importantly, his willingness to get the bunker cards. Max immediately feels at ease as he begins to ponder on the strange familiarity of all of this.
“Have we met before?” Max wonders. “There’s something so familiar about this.”
Friend is starting to observe these arcane connections he is forming. His relationship with Cassie has already caused her past to be influenced with his presence somehow. Perhaps it is the same with Max. It’s as if they sense him across parallel timelines.
“I’ve been living the same six days over and over, meeting you again and again. You called it the multiverse,” Friend reminds him.
Max marvels in the explanation. He strangely believes he is destined to help Friend. He understands the concept of the multiverse, something he’s always believed in, from his days at MIT studying string theory. But he never thought he’d live to see the day to observe evidence of it.
“It’s strange, but it feels like I’ve always been meant to help you.” Max describes, then confirming, “Listen, I will contact my guy at FEMA like you said.”
“Thank you Max. Remember, drop the envelope when I arrive in the bathroom in Bellissimo Park,” Friend reminds him.
“I will,” Max responds. “Get to the bunker before the presidential address. Otherwise you’ll have a hell of a time getting in.”
Friend couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t offer these final words, knowing how much his demeanor changed when he spoke with his ex-wife. Despite his being on the run form the FBI, he understands this is more important to Max. “Call her. Trust me, you’ll feel like a new person for it.”
Friend wishes him luck and exits the car. He gets low to the ground and crawls around the back wheel of the car, pretending to be looking for something underneath, hoping that such a ploy will deflect any suspicion of him talking to Max.
Friend follows the same steps to the Metropolitan to change his clothes, then to Bellissimo Park. Once there he hangs out in the same electronics store, mingling among the fresh, hip crowd and enjoying the energetic music playing. As 17:00 rolls around he notices Max heading to the bathroom. Now is the moment where hopefully his fortunes change.
Max arrives at the stall, same as before. Friend immediately grabs the one next to him as it opens up; the crowded room providing decent cover for their conversation.
“The envelope is on the ground,” he says in a muffled voice, low enough for no one to hear through the loud bathroom music. He then raises it, “Sir, you dropped your envelope.”
Friend is overjoyed to be holding this again, feeling the thickness of it, containing the cards and the letters. “I am indebted to you,” Friend happily tells Max, patting him on the back before exiting.
Now Friend just needs to get the ID from Mr. Aiden Pollock. The Sparq is across the street. With the fake police badge in tow, Friend walks to the table as usual and confiscates the ID. The man continues to put up only minor resistance, and Friend refines his act, a little stronger each time. Piece of cake.
Friend is now at the final part of the plan: introducing himself to Cassie. He returns to the Metropolitan, knowing that she will walk toward the elevator around 18:20. He stands around, perusing the people passing back and forth as the minutes pass, feeling a slight tingle of nervousness as she finally comes into view.
“Cassie!” Friend calls to her, grabbing her hand. Cassie normally sports a surprised and slightly annoyed look when he approaches, but this time her eyes, her face, her total demeanor is in shock, as if she had been preparing for this moment.
“It can’t be,” she sighs out, entering into deep thought. Friend can see the wheels of her mind spinning again. She then clinches his hand, “Come with me.”
He follows her into the elevator, along with Alaina and Wyatt in the rear. The elevator cannot move fast enough for her, she twitches impatiently at it, tapping her foot.
As the elevator door opens, she grabs Friend’s hand again, racing to her room while she holds him, gripping him enough to prevent him from letting go. She hurriedly opens the door, waving her friends in to hurry, then closes it with aggression.
She turns to Friend, grabbing his other hand, staring into his eyes, looking around at him, his height, his demeanor, in utter disbelief.
“You are Friend, I take it,” she calls out, tempering the outpouring of joy. In the gravity of the situation, she commands to her friends. “Can you give us a minute?”
Alaina and Wyatt feel the strong vibe coming from her. They stare in astonishment as their friend has transformed from the down to Earth, nothing-surpri
ses-her Cassie they know into this awestruck one. They quickly leave the room as she requests.
“I can’t believe it. My father told me about you. Before he died.”
This is a new one for Friend, now he is in a complete state of shock. Everything that she has said, her father said, about the timelessness after death, about how he sees the future, it must be true. But more alarming is that Friend has somehow injected himself into this new flow of time, one where he is now a fixture in her life, before he has even existed, despite being strictly confined to these six days. It must be with each new timeline that he lives, some type of new transcendence takes place that he cannot begin to explain.
“So you know we have to go—” Friend begins to ask, showing her the envelope, before Cassie finishes his sentence, “To Hanford.”
Their eyes lock in wonderment as they both understand it, that their timeless fates have finally intersected at this very moment, as if they share a piece of a broken locket that has just been reunited. Cassie begins to pack her things, fully aware the severity of the matter, playing back the memory of her father telling her of this moment.
She opens the door, and as Alaina and Wyatt are pacing the hallway, she calls them back into the room. “Guys, we are going to Hanford, Washington. We need to get moving soon.”
Alaina responds with a confused voice, “Cassie, what are you talking about? An hour ago you couldn’t wait to go clubbing.”
“The asteroid. They can’t stop it, Alaina. The government has been lying to us.”
The tone of Cassie’s voice projects such a seriousness that Alaina is compelled to take her seriously. She turns to her boyfriend in a stunning disbelief. “Wyatt?”
“I can tell you I don’t want be anywhere around here when they finally announce that shit.” He says in a bravado voice, secretly knowing his mind has already been made up for him, not by Alaina, but Cassie. It’s not that he is attracted to Cassie, but when she gets revved up, he realizes she knows what she’s doing. She’s smart and sassy, that part is obvious, but grossly underperforms to her potential. Everyone knows she’s a genius. But he knows all too well she’s more than that, she’s a natural born leader.