Chasing the Moon

by A. Lee Martinez

  “Stop it!”

  The mob hesitated. A few people carried on halfheartedly. The feathery Neanderthal yanked away the hoodie. The tentacle monster growled.

  “I said stop.” Diana sensed the shift in reality. “Everybody… just go home.”

  “Go home,” they chanted in unison, turning and shuffling away.

  “No, no. Stop.”

  They stopped.

  “Give me a second here. I need to think this through.”

  She leaned against the counter and pondered. These magical powers were messed up, a monkey’s paw she couldn’t throw away.

  “Okay, I have it,” she said. “I want you all to put down your coats and just go about the rest of your lives as if everything that just happened never actually took place. Oh, and it’s okay to like coats, just don’t like them too much. I guess what I’m saying is that coats are nice, but they’re nothing to kill someone over.”

  “Coats are nice,” her cult agreed in unison, “but don’t kill for them.”

  “Oh, and stop doing that, please. It’s starting to creep me out. Now go on. Get out of here.” She adopted the kind of gentle voice reserved for stray cats. “Shoo now.”

  The short-lived Church of the Hallowed Windbreaker quietly dispersed. Diana spent the next half hour putting coats back on the racks. Her department remained empty until lunch rolled around. She grabbed a piece of warmed-over pizza at the food court and sat at the table with Vom and Smorgaz.

  “I just don’t get it,” she said. “There has to be a way to turn this off.”

  “Why would you want to turn it off?” asked Vom. “Most people are unwilling victims of reality.”

  “And now I’m the victimizer.”

  “You’re just being melodramatic.”

  She slurped her soda, nibbled her pizza.

  “It’s not right. People weren’t meant to have this kind of power.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says everyone.”

  Vom shook his head. “Everyone is idiots.”

  “Everyone are idiots,” corrected Smorgaz. He pursed his lips. “Everyone am idiots?”

  “Regardless of whether you were meant to have this kind of power, you have it,” said Vom. “And there’s no way to get rid of it. Are you going to finish that?”

  She slid her paper plate across the table. Vom devoured it.

  “I know how to get rid of it,” said Smorgaz.

  “You do not.” Vom slurped Diana’s soda without asking, then ate the cup.

  “Sure, I do. It’s not permanent, but it works.” Smorgaz leaned forward and spoke in a quiet tone. “World peace.”

  He sat back with a knowing grin.

  “How the hell does that work?” asked Vom.

  Smorgaz winked. “It doesn’t.”

  Diana used her patient voice. “Can you explain it to the rest of us in a little more detail?”

  “It’s simple really. Manipulating reality takes power. Your connection with Vom and myself gives you that power. But it has its limits. Screwing with a few minds here and there, rebuilding department stores, that’s easy. You could do that all day without exhausting yourself. But world peace… that’s a tall order. Trying to make it happen would be like trying to push a mountain with a bulldozer. You’ll run out of gas, but you won’t get results. Unless running out of gas is the result you wanted in the first place.”

  “That actually makes sense,” said Vom.

  “Why shouldn’t it? I’m not just a mindless spawning machine, y’know.”

  A trio of clones budded off his back. Vom caught one and promptly ate it, but the other two bolted across the food court, eliciting surprised yelps from the lunch crowd, who assumed they were rats or puppies or some similar nuisance.

  Diana excused herself from the minor chaos and went to the bathroom in order to concentrate. She found an empty stall, sat on the toilet, and cleared her head.

  She pictured all the people in all the world getting along, accepting each other’s differences with tolerance and grace. She went the extra mile and pictured everyone holding hands in a grassy field, singing songs, drinking Coca-Cola together. Just living together in a great big harmonious sing-along.

  Her gut tightened. A knot formed in her shoulders. She felt queasy, but the power was leaving her, spreading outward, trying to manipulate reality to her desires.

  She hit a wall. The nebulous forces she was attempting to unleash flowed back into her.

  “Damn it.”

  She gritted her teeth. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. Maybe her magical powers were aware of themselves and didn’t want to be wasted. Or possibly reality itself was pushing back, trying to avoid holding the hot potato. She didn’t understand the metaphysics. She just closed her eyes and pushed back.

  “Come on…” Her heart beat faster. She could smell burning bacon and hoped it wasn’t coming from her. “… Get happy, damn it.”

  The magic stream slowed to a trickle, then stopped altogether. It sloshed between Diana and the universe in a delicate balance. Humming “Imagine,” she exerted every ounce of willpower she had. It was easier now that her body had gone completely numb, and there was nothing to distract her.

  “Happy happy, joy joy, you bastards,” she groaned.

  The resistance crumbled, and all the magic rushed out of her like a flood. She could actually see it, a rainbow of colors and shapes that twisted and altered reality on a primordial level, deeper than molecules. Deeper than atoms. Even deeper than quarks, gluons, other mysterious science-tastic words Diana had picked up from watching Discovery Channel. It was like reaching underneath all that to get to the core programming at the heart of the video game that was the universe, and using a cheat code to alter an inalterable law. Infinite lives. Endless ammunition. Level skip. World peace.

  An invisible force snapped back at Diana and knocked her off the toilet. She wasn’t hurt, but her hand did end up in the bowl. She was drained, exhausted, but it was gone. All the strange power within her was used up.

  She was out of gas.

  She pulled her hand out of the water. Bad day for long sleeves, but all things considered, It could’ve been worse, she thought.

  Right before she threw up.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The problem with using up all her magic was that Diana didn’t have anything left to undo the prominent vomit stain running down her blouse.

  The nice thing was that, even if she hadn’t brought about world peace, she’d brought a warm humanity to the mall. Every single person was smiling, exceedingly polite, and full of good cheer.

  Ginger in women’s wear helped Diana pick out a new blouse.

  “Maybe you should go home. You don’t look very good.”

  “I’m fine,” Diana lied. She’d felt better after vomiting, but her legs were shaky. Her hands trembled. Along with all her supernatural powers, she’d exhausted something else. It was like a piece of her life force had been torn away. She told herself she was exaggerating, but she was only guessing. But she was immortal now. Or at least she could die only in very specific ways.

  “I’m just a little woozy.” She checked a new blouse in a three-way mirror. She didn’t like the color, and it didn’t go with her slacks. But it was the cheapest in the store.

  “Here, take this one.” Ginger gave her a much better match. Diana checked the tag. “I’d rather not. Even with my employee discount, it’s a bit much.”

  “So don’t pay. Take it. You’re obviously having a rough day, and you do your damnedest in coats every day. Don’t think of it as a gift. Think of it as appreciation for all the terrific work you do here.”

  Beaming, Ginger gave Diana a warm hug, heedless of the moist stain between them.

  “You’re super, Diana,” said Ginger, “and I want only the best for you.”

  Diana nodded very slowly. “Ooooookaaaay. I appreciate the offer. I do. But I can’t ask you to pay for this.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to p
ay for it. Why pay for it? It’s just a blouse. Not nearly as important as you are. If you ask me, we place too much value on these things when what really matters is all of us, together, making the most of every moment—”

  “I can’t steal it,” she whispered, so as not to get Ginger in trouble.

  “Steal it?” Ginger laughed. “It’s not stealing. Not if you really need it.”

  She shouted at a manager, “Hey, Shaun! Is it cool if I let Diana have this blouse?”

  “Absolutely!” Shaun gave the thumbs-up. “You’re doing a super job, Diana!”

  “Thanks,” said Diana.

  “What was that?” shouted Shaun.

  “She said thanks!” yelled back Ginger.

  “Cool. Thanks for passing that along, Ginger! Great job!”

  “Thanks, Shaun! You too!”

  Diana didn’t want to take the new blouse, but she soon realized there wasn’t any point in arguing. Everyone in her immediate vicinity was in a state of absolute goodwill. If she kicked them in the face they’d probably compliment her on her high kicking ability, even as they spat out their teeth.

  It wasn’t genuine, just an illusion she’d forced on the universe. She had no idea how long it would last or how far it had spread past the mall. But she wasn’t going to try changing it back, no matter how unnatural all this joy to the world was at heart. She’d learned the hard way that magic wasn’t controllable. Not for her, at least. If she tried to get everyone to act normal, it’d probably end up in a chain saw battle royal that she’d have to undo.

  Not that she had the power to change anything. Smorgaz’s plan had worked. She was empty, unable to alter reality in any supernatural way. Although she wouldn’t have minded feeling a little less mortal at the moment.

  0em" width="27">“So a bunch of us are going out for drinks after work,” said Ginger. “You should come.”

  “Thanks, but I have other plans.”

  “Well, I guess you can’t help that. Too bad though. Been ages since we’ve just sat around, catching up.”

  Diana nodded. It had been a while since she’d just hung out with friends. Most of her coworkers weren’t much more than acquaintances, but it was a nice, normal thing to do. She would’ve gladly taken Ginger up on the offer except for the two monsters in her care. She didn’t see a way around that.

  “Did you know that Vicki’s son is almost two?” asked Ginger.

  “Already? Damn, where does the time go?”

  “I know, right. Sorry you can’t make it. I’m sure everyone will be super disappointed.”

  Diana thanked Ginger for the new blouse, walked a few steps, and stopped. If she was going to maintain her sanity, she needed a normal life. Or at least as many bits and pieces of a normal life as she could scrape together. Spending time with ordinary people who had ordinary-people concerns might just keep her grounded. Even if it didn’t have any long-term effect, it would be good for a distraction for the evening.

  “Ginger, count me in.”

  Ginger smiled, and even though Diana knew that smile was partly due to her own cosmic powers, she still found it reassuring.

  She managed to finish her shift, even if her strength never quite returned. She stopped trembling, but she couldn’t shake the hollow sensation. By the end of the day the mall was already restored. Everyone was cheerful, but they stopped going out of their way to compliment each other. Maybe in an hour or two they’d be back to normal. Kind of a shame that it couldn’t last, but it wasn’t right. When world peace happened, she mused on the drive to the bar to meet her coworkers, if it ever happened, it shouldn’t be as absurd as someone making a wish that did it.

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Vom.

  She glanced over at the passenger seat. He was in her mind again.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  She turned the radio up in an attempt to drown out the unreliable and unrequested telepathic communication. It came and went, and while she occasionally picked up a thought from Vom, he was more often the receiver in the relationship. She preferred that, because those foreign thoughts that came to her were strange, inhuman desires. Usually involving eating something. Or everything.

  She also caught one or two thoughts from Unending Smorgaz, but these were less bizarre. His most pressing need was to be fruitful and multiply, but this seemed easier to repress. Just like it was easier to be celibate than to be hungry, she guessed.

  “If humanity has to wait for everyone to get on board with world peace,” said Vom, “then it’ll never happen.”

  “Maybe, but just making it happen is cheating.”

  He smirked. “Why?”

  “Because I can’t just force my desires on the world.”

  “Why not? Everyone else does.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “No, and just believing something is enough to make it a fact,” said Vom. “Oh, wait. I’m talking to a human where this is literally true. So never mind.”

  She was content to let it drop, but Vom wasn’t.

  “Every interaction you have with this universe is exerting unwanted influence on it. Even before you joined up with me and Smorgaz.”

  “Mmmm.” She hoped the vagueness of her reply would convince him that his point was made.

  “When you eat something, you’re deciding that your continued survival is more important than something else that would probably rather exist if given the choice.”

  “What about vegetarians?” Smorgaz countered.

  “Potatoes and carrots are still alive. They might not posses will, but they exist. And they only cease to exist when something else decides they shouldn’t. Even if that something is just bacteria.”

  “It’s always about eating with you,” said Diana.

  “That’s because consuming is the purest form of existence, the most primal of all desires throughout all realities.”

  “Actually the most primal force throughout the universe is spawning,” said Smorgaz.

  Vom chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Spawning is only a tool to ensure that you will produce more mouths to consume more than the other guy.”

  “No,” said Smorgaz. “Consuming is only a tool to ensure that you will spawn more effectively than the other guy.”

  “Most things die if they don’t consume. They don’t die if they fail to spawn.”

  “No, even with consuming, most things die. Eventually. Spawning is the only reliable method of ensuring the continuation of existence. In fact, not spawning is the only way to die.”

  “What about adoption?” asked Vom. “Or cultural contribution?”

  Smorgaz chuckled. “Those are all just derivatives of spawning.”

  “Oh, I see. Anything important is spawning-related by default.”

  “Makes more sense than everything important being consumption-related.”

  Diana zoned out while the monsters continued their debate. They were still going ong when she parked the car.

  “Let’s go over the ground rules, guys,” she said.

  “Again?” asked Vom. “How many times do we have to do this?”

  “As many times as it takes for me to convince myself that this isn’t a terrible mistake that is going to go horribly awry. So give it to me.”

  “When in doubt, don’t eat it,” said Vom with mechanical indifference.

  “If you absolutely have to spawn,” said Smorgaz, “excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.”

  Diana nodded. “Good. And…”

  “Try not to talk but be polite,” intoned Vom and Smorgaz in unison. “If anyone asks, we’re old college friends in town for the week, and we have to go back to Stockholm to complete a research paper on soil samples.”

  “No, not Stockholm,” she said.

  Vom sighed. “But you said—”

  “I know what I said, but Stockholm is too exotic. It invites questions. We need someplace less interesting. Sacramento. Or maybe Denver.”

  “I’ve been to Denver,” said Smorgaz. “
It’s a surprisingly interesting place.”

  “Okay. We’ll go with Kansas. Kansas is boring.”

  “Really?” asked Smorgaz. “So I take it you’ve been there.”

  “No, I haven’t, but it’s not important if Kansas really is boring. It’s just important that it seems boring.”

  “So you’re willing to impugn a whole state for an elaborate charade?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m sure the state of Kansas will forgive me just this once.”

  “Can I say we used to date?” asked Smorgaz.

  “No.”

  “Can I say I used to be worshipped as a god?” asked Vom.

  “What?” She shook her head. “No.”

  “Not even if someone asks? Like maybe it just comes up randomly in the table conversation?”

  “When is something like that going to come up?”

  “You never know. A lively conversation can be unpredictable.”

  “You’re a guy who studies dirt,” she said. “That’s it.”

  “Can I be gay?” asked Smorgaz.

  She covered her face and ground her teeth.

  “Okay. You can be gay.”

  “That’s no fair. Why does he get to be gay?” said Vom.

  “You can be gay too,” she replied.

  “Wait,” said Smorgaz. “We can’t both be gay. Then it won’t be special.”

  She said, “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.”

  “No. It’s fine. We can both be gay. But since I thought of it, I’ll be flamboyantly gay and you will just have to be ordinary gay.”

  “I can live with that,” said Vom.

  “Just don’t be a stereotype,” added Diana.

  Smorgaz snapped his fingers. “You got it, girlfriend.”

  They climbed out of the car and walked toward the bar. Diana was already getting a bad feeling about this. She thought about turning around, forgetting the whole thing. But she’d come this far.

  Her sanity hung in the balance. If she was going to avoid death and madness, she needed to find a way to ground herself. This might not be the solution, but it was worth a shot.

  “How are they going to see you?” she asked. “What do you look like to normal people?”

  They shrugged.