Double Vision

by Tricia Sullivan

  The girl shakes her head.

  'Come on, then . . . what should we call you? I know. I'll be Butch Cassidy, and you can be the Sundance Kid, OK? We'll pretend we're going to Bolivia.'

  'On that basis, I should be Cassidy,' says the girl, poker-faced. 'l have more brains than you.'

  'Whatever.' Klaski rolls her eyes. 'Come on, Cassidy! Move your little butt.'

  My front door was opening. I heard the rustle of paper bags and the miniature thunder of cat feet as Nebbie and Rocky raced to greet Gloria.

  'Hi, guys! Are you hungry?'

  Quickly I switched off the TV. It was evening; I'd been on the nex a whole day just flying.

  'Oh, Cookie,' she gasped, patting her heart to show that I'd startled her. 'I didn't think you'd be here. Are you all right?'

  I nodded. 'It's kind of hard to explain,' I said. 'I'm OK, but would you mind if I didn't say anything for now?'

  Gloria looked at me in that slow way she has. 'OK,' she said after a while. 'You, uh, don't still want me to come by every day like you asked?'

  'Please. If you don't mind. The situation . . . might change.'

  'OK,' she said again. She took a deep breath and let it out. Then she sat with one hip on the back of my love seat and Nebbie jumped up beside her, purring. 'I guess you're not interested in stupid gossip. I just thought you'd find it interesting.'

  'What?' I said, more out of guilty obligation to hold up my end than real curiosity.

  'Oh, Sensei got whacked yesterday. Beat up real bad.'

  The room vanished from around me and I was floating in an empty space. Everyone could see me. Everyone knew.

  'He's in Holy Name hospital recovering from surgery. His wife told Mr. Ryan it was a break-in. Six guys. They had clubs and knives. He's lucky to be alive. They figure it was his karate that saved him.'

  I could feel the hum of my own blood. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner in the next room.

  'They get much?' I whispered. I heard Gloria going into the bathroom and running the water in the tub for Nebbie.

  'Yeah, I guess he had a couple grand in cash from the monthly dues on the kids' classes. He was counting it to put it in the bank today. Hey, your sink's clogged.'

  'I know,' I said. 'I ran out of Drano.'

  seven pairs of kenneth cole

  Absolutely nothing happened to me. I couldn't understand it.

  I told Gloria that I wasn't impressed with Sensei Norman and I thought the whole karate thing was probably a load of boloney.

  'I think it's all playing dress-up,' I said.

  'It's weird,' Gloria said. 'Everybody's leaving. Sensei – did you know he got demoted to fifth dan? We can't call him Shihan anymore. Troy's going to do kickboxing in Paramus. He got that ribbon in the tournament, he figures he could be a good fighter.'

  'What about you?' I said.

  'Sensei asked me to teach the kids' class. Tanya quit.'

  'Are you going to?'

  'I guess. I want to get my black belt, Cookie.'

  Soon after that, Miss Cooper called me.

  'I'm leaving the organization,' she said. 'Sensei Price said I could drive up to his place and train, but Sensei Norman vetoed it. He said either I'm his student or nobody's student. So I left. Watch him scramble to find somebody to teach all the classes for him.'

  'What will you do now?' I said. I didn't mention that Gloria of all people was replacing her.

  'I don't know. Maybe something totally different. I still think the Okinawans are really cool, even after everything that happened. I'd like to go there. But I'm under a cloud right now. I might go to the city and study kenpo.'

  And that was that.

  Gunther called me, too. He asked me to come in. I still hadn't gotten around to replacing the tapes I'd stolen, and I figured he wanted them back. After all, I had more or less admitted to stealing them when I'd quoted parts of them to him at the barbecue.

  I chucked them in a Shop Rite bag and went in. All the doors of the assignment room were shut. Some had green lights; some had red lights. The red lights meant some sucker was in there having their innermost thoughts plundered for money. I wanted to throw open all the doors and rip off the headphones, kick in the TV screens.

  But there I'd be again, Cookie the maniac, Cookie the crazy.

  I stalked into Gunfher's office and chucked the bag on his desk.

  'This what you want?' I said. 'I found it in the garbage. Cleaners must have thrown it out.' He didn't even look in the bag.

  'Cookie, I've been talking to Bob and we've come up with a salary package we think will be really appealing to you. I'm really delighted with this, and I think you will be, too. Sit down, please.'

  I stared at him. He wasn't kidding.

  'I can't come back to work, Gunther. Not after everything that's happened.'

  'Don't worry. We can take care of things. John Norman's not a problem; he's too embarrassed to press charges. He told everyone he got attacked by a gang. Do you think he's going to want to admit one of his own students beat him up?'

  I thought my heart would stop. 'How did you know about that?'

  'Well, uh . . . he called us up and told us. He wanted us to know that we had a crazy person working for us. He wanted us to fire you.'

  'And you told him you already did that.'

  'We told him we stand behind our employees and he'd better get a lawyer if he had anything else to say to us.' Gunther looked really proud of himself.

  'And? Have you heard from the police?'

  Gunther shrugged. 'They might figure it out eventually. But I doubt it. Norman himself wants to keep it quiet. And if that changes, there are steps we can take. We have lawyers. You're a valued employee. There are ways around this stuff. There's your . . . condition.'

  I did my best to give him the dead eye.

  'Cookie, I know you're mad right now—'

  'Yeah, mad as a hatter.'

  'Sorry poor choice of words. I know you're angry, but the truth is that you have a gift. And with that gift comes the obligation to use it.'

  'For the betterment of humanity?'

  'Well, yeah, maybe.'

  'To make people buy more Cookie Starfishes merchandise? Or is it really the next Cyndi Lauper you're looking for now? What does that guy at the barbecue do – the one who thinks he's a sandworm expert? What are you using him for? Stock-market prediction?'

  'That's confidential. He shouldn't have introduced himself that way. I've had a talk with him.'

  'Oh, that's good, Gunther. That's real good.'

  'Cookie, what can I say? We all gotta live. You walk out of here, what do you think happens? You're going to get a job where? At the Grand Union? At Macy's, like your mom?'

  'There's no dishonor in that.'

  'There's no future in it, either. It's up to you, Cookie. I'm not the bad guy. Neither is John Norman, you know. We're not evil villains. We don't own our own islands and laser people down with death rays. We're just regular guys trying to get by, make a living, go to the movies on a Friday night. So do me a favor and stop looking at me like you want to put a brick between my teeth too, all right?'

  'Fine.'

  'Fine. So what do you say? Don't you want to see the package we've put together?'

  He proferred a sheet of letterhead.

  'Stick it where the sun don't shine,' I said. I wished I could be ruder than that, but it just won't come for me.

  'Come on. Don't make me beg. You're the best, Cookie.'

  'Read my lips, Gunther.' And I mouthed F-U to him.

  'OK, OK, well, go away and think about it. When you change your mind, my door is still open.'

  I laughed. 'You don't know how open your door is, Gunther. You really don't know what you're playing with.'

  I turned to go. I opened the door and looked at him. I was hoping he would ask me to elaborate. Maybe there could have been a chance for us then. Maybe we could have worked together, if only he'd entertained the possibility that I knew something real.
r />   But he had a sneering expression on his face that said he thought what I'd said was pretty weak.

  'Cookie, if you're afraid to fly, if there's a problem, we have people you could talk to.'

  'I know,' I said. 'And pills I could take.'

  'I'm only trying to help.'

  I rattled the door handle.

  'See ya, doc. By the way, when you call the police to give them a tip about me, make sure you tell them I'm only a green belt and I was unarmed. Maybe people will think twice about signing up for lessons with a guy who got wasted by a fat chick with a bag of groceries.'

  I stalked out of the office and past Gloria, who was pretending to be on the phone. Gunther followed me, tie flapping.

  'I never said I was going to make such a phone call,' he shouted after me. 'I can't understand this paranoia. You should see someone about that. It's a new symptom.'

  'It's not paranoia, it's premonition. Check your Amex statements while you're at it. Your ex-girlfriend has bought herself seven pairs of Kenneth Cole shoes in the last month. I'd change my card number if I were you.'

  And I left. I was all scared and shaky and expecting the wrath of God at any moment. I got to my car and thought about going back to apologize. But I didn't.

  I sat in the Rabbit and measured the space between my stomach and the steering wheel. There was plenty.

  Which gave my belly plenty of room to bounce around as what I had said to Gunther finally sank into me. I laughed and laughed.

  'Seven pairs,' I gasped, wiping away the tears. 'Good for her.'

  Then I went home, called the police and told them I could tell them all about the attack on John Norman if they wanted to come over and take my statement.

  'I am not afraid to fly,' I told Nebbie. 'Unfortunately, there isn't time now. The squad car will be here soon.'

  Nebbie was sitting on the windowsill, washing one of her hind legs. Rocky was watching her, tail twitching, thinking about pouncing.

  'But just to prove I'm not afraid, I'll play a little Quark, OK?'

  I looked at the dark TV.

  Quark made more sense. I'd never be able to get into Tower Four as Gossamer. And what if MF saw me following Klaski and demanded to see my images? What if they saw the kid? What if I tried to hold the images of Cassidy back, but couldn't?

  I was not afraid to fly. I was being circumspect. That was all.

  thank you, ma'am

  Once Cassidy had been persuaded to climb Tower Four, Klaski finally began to hear evidence of human activity. Voices and the sounds of boots on metal rang down the steel staircase. Cassidy seemed less frightened when she was climbing, and ascended nimbly. They came to a hatch in the ceiling.

  'They must be loading the ship,' Klaski said. 'Stay here until I've explained the situation. I'll just get Major Galante to come and talk to us about the logic. She'll be very interested in you, Cassidy, I'm sure of that.'

  She pushed the hatch open. There were guys hurrying around carrying crates and bags. They looked like they had just come in from the Grid: there was still a lot in the way of battle armor and weapons, and in the close space things didn't smell too hygenic, either.

  Major Galante's voice rang out from somewhere above. 'OK, people. Let's ditch the battle armor, grab rations and get on board. We don't want to be here any longer than we have to.'

  'You stay here,' Klaski repeated. 'Give me the logic.'

  Cassidy didn't dignify that demand with a response. Her eyes flashed a warning.

  Klaski blew out her breath like a horse snorting and climbed through the hatch. The first thing she saw was the barrel of Galante's ray gun.

  'Where the hell did you come from?' Major Galante cried, and Klaski could see almost nothing of her irises. Her nostrils were flaring wide.

  'Easy ma'am,' croaked Klaski, showing her empty palms. She tried to grin. 'A guy called Dave sent me.'

  Galante motioned Klaski away from the hatch with the gun. She pointed to the floor. Klaski sat.

  The major flipped the privacy switch on her Swatch, so that Klaski couldn't see who was on the other end.

  'This is Tower Four,' she snapped. 'Ah, Dave. I have somebody here identifies herself as Lieutenant Klaski, of Serge's unit. She says you know about it. What? Well, now. That's interesting. Send her up.'

  She ended the call and addressed Klaski.

  'We thought you guys were dead.'

  Klaski smiled weakly. 'Not only am I not dead, ma'am, but I have something that I think you'll be very glad to see.'

  She glanced at the hatch cover. She was trying to think how to phrase this. She'd had her speech all worked out in her head while Cassidy was leading her through the SynchroniCity to X, but the look on Galante's face was throwing her.

  'See, you were right about the logic bullets,' she began. 'They weren't in the mine when you surrounded it. Dr. Gonzalez took them. She went a little crazy. That's why I—'

  Through-the open hatch, she could hear boots ringing on the metal ladder. She spun on her butt and half-crawled toward the hatch, yelling, 'Cassidy, no, not yet!'

  Then she remembered that Cassidy wasn't wearing boots.

  But Serge was.

  She came up through the hole in one fluid movement, towering over Klaski and pushing Galante backward toward the milling activity of the crew with their crates and cables.

  Galante and Serge nodded at one another. Klaski had never seen Serge fail to salute before. Serge glanced at Klaski, and Klaski gulped.

  'But you can't be here. You're a golem.'

  'Count me,' said Serge. 'How many of me you see?'

  'One.'

  'So I ain't no golem. Right?'

  'I. . . I. . . I just assumed.' Klaski was only really flummoxed for a second, though. Then she rallied. 'Why didn't you come before? Why did you stay in the Grid?'

  'You know the answer to that. Stupid.'

  Major Galante spoke in a flat, calculated tone. 'I'm amazed to see you again, Captain Serge. The last we heard, you were issuing automated destruct orders to apply to yourself and a whole swathe of the Grid. Of all the officers in the Second wave, you're considered the most. . .'

  '. . . Idiotically loyal?' offered Serge.

  'I was going to say devoted to the Effort,' Galante continued. 'But yes. This is quite a shift in thinking.'

  Galante looked small, and Klaski knew she was afraid. Dangerously so. She said:

  'Well, get on board then, Captain. We're almost ready to launch.'

  Serge snorted. 'One thing at a time. I need to rescind those orders I gave. There's about a discount-outlet warehouse full of stuff you don't understand.'

  Galante shifted her weight to one hip and folded her arms across her chest.

  'Really? Enlighten me. I'll give you five minutes.'

  Serge relaxed infinitesimally. Klaski could detect a faint collegial atmosphere between the two commanders, a mutual respect.

  'First off, I been in the well. That's why Klaski here thought I was a golem. But I'm not. I been translated into the Grid and back, and I can't say as I like it much. Don't feel like telling you about my personal problems, either. But I got responsibilities.'

  Klaski's glance went to the open hatch. She couldn't help it.

  'See,' Serge said, 'this is people and the Grid. It's like when a mama bear tries to teach a baby bear to go fishing. The baby bear sees the mama bear take her great big paw and slap the water and come up with a nice juicy fish, and so the baby bear thinks if he splashes the water, he'll get a fish, too. So he's splashing away, imitating her, and catching nothing but water. And that's what's happening to y'all with the Grid. You people just don't know where the fish really is, so you're slapping.'

  She paused significantly. Galante was interested. Who wouldn't be? Serge had crossed over to the Other Side and returned to tell. Galante wanted to hear Serge's revelations.

  'Only you're not the mama bear, Serge,' said Cassidy's voice as she drew herself up through the hatch. 'You're just a baby bear, too.'
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  'Cassidy, you nerd!' yelled Serge. 'Get your butt back to the SynchroniCity before—'

  'Don't shoot!' screamed Klaski at the same time, diving forward in a futile effort to grab the barrel of Galante's ray gun and turn it aside.

  But Galante glanced at the security monitor and saw that it did not register Cassidy. She stepped neatly around Klaski. The ray hit Cassidy and she fell, just a simple collapse of limbs, an act of gravity. Like getting knocked down in the playground. But she didn't get up.

  It happened so fast. Klaski found herself on the floor, kicked effortlessly to one side by Galante, who now fired on Serge. Serge jumped down the hatch and could be heard crashing around below. Galante's guys went after her.

  'You stupid shit!' Klaski screamed, disbelieving. 'Don't you think before you shoot that thing?'

  Major Galante turned and regarded Klaski stonily.

  'You know the policy for dealing with golems.'

  'THERE'S A HUMAN BODY ON THE SCOPE, COMMANDER,' said Galante's Swatch. Galante checked the visual, looked at Cassidy's body, then turned aside and bent over, hands on her knees, shaking. For a minute Klaski thought she was going to vomit. There was a shuffling sound as the remaining crew members behind her moved and murmured in reaction. Below, boots echoed on metal as Serge fled her pursuers.

  'It was a golem. It was a golem. It wasn't on the scope.' Galante straightened, turned to look at her subordinates.

  'It's on the scope now,' somebody said.

  'These girls are not golems. When they die, they die,' cried Klaski. 'You knew about the body Arla sent back. You saw the girls in the Grid. Didn't you understand any of it?'

  Galante's Swatch said,

  'THESE GOLEMS REPRESENT A PERNICIOUS THREAT. THEY HAVE TAKEN OVER THE MINES TWICE AND HAVE STOLEN A MAXFACT FOR SOME UNKNOWN PURPOSE. CAPTAIN SERGE HERSELF ORDERED THEIR DESTRUCTION, BEFORE BEING CORRUPTED BY THE WELL. THEY WILL BE THE FIRST TARGET OF THE THIRD WAVE.'

  'What? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Get Serge back and listen to her. You've got an opportunity here to understand the whole—'

  Klaski's prepared speech was cut short. Major Galante dragged her by the arm and threw her into an office to one side of the loading bay. She pointed her finger at Klaski's face. 'Shut up. Stay there,' she said. She closed the door and locked it.