The Goddess Quest

by Lawrence Ambrose

  The flying struck her as less certain. Not just in terms of time: she figured that the longer she remained aloft over high-population areas the better the odds that someone would spot her. Traveling at night would avoid that, but that would require waiting until after dark, which ruled out reaching the Drive-In while it was open tonight.

  The Gamemasters hadn't exactly been subtle with their last clue. Obviously, it was a drive-in. Beneath our toupee-lives hair-wreathed. The original clue fit the guy with the hair weave on the marquee. It was coming together in her mind.

  Alex contemplated the Drive-In and the final step of winning the Big Prize. One of their drinks would be the god-enabling Ambrosia. Chocolate milkshake? Diet Coke? Lemonade? Further clues would no doubt point her to the right libation when she got there.

  Alex cleared Indiana and puttered her way toward Illinois. No sense of fatigue – just an awareness of slowing down and needing to expend more and more energy to stay afloat in the clouds. She knew where she was only because of Google satellite maps, and even with them, it wasn't always easy to match their images with what she was seeing. But using the big cities as guides – Cincinnati, Indianapolis – she was reasonably confident she was on the right track.

  She dropped down at freefall speed into a forested area a mile or two from a Greyhound bus stop on the outskirts of Chicago, braking hard in the final few seconds. Not hard enough to prevent the tires from exploding and the rims warping like crushed melons when she struck earth. No biggie. She jogged away from the bike with silent thanks for good service, emerging from the woods and crossing a grassy field before arriving at the rear parking lot of a greasy-looking MacDonald's and a run-down business area. From there it was just a few blocks past a used car lot and grimy brick bank to the bus stop at a BP gas/inconvenience store. 4:15, fifteen minutes to spare before the scheduled bus arrival.

  The pimply girl behind the counter informed her that Greyhound tickets weren't sold there. She'd need to buy them at a bus station or online. The nearest station was several miles away. Alex had neglected to consider that possibility. No matter. She wasn’t fucking around finding a bus station and waiting for the next bus. She was getting on this bus one way or another.

  She waited on a bench outside until the bus pulled in a mere ten minutes behind schedule at 4:40. About fifteen people filed out while Alex schemed. She considered stealing a ticket or convincing someone to sell their ticket. The latter seemed like the ticket. She searched the group for a likely mark. A pretty young girl might fall under her Dionysian spell, but a girl would be too insecure about giving up her ride in some shithole part of the city. But a guy...maybe that soft-looking dude who probably was a student? Students always needed money. Or maybe the tall athletic guy with the spiky blond hair strutting alongside the pretty girl? No, he either was with her or wanted to be. He wouldn't give that dream up easily.

  Soft student-guy, then. Long, dark hair hanging over doe eyes. Eyes that glanced at Alex with momentary intensity before shifting shyly away. Gay? So much the better.

  Alex hoisted her pack and followed them inside. A few of them purchased some of the garbage food on sale and settled in the booths along one wall. The doe-eyed dude snatched a coffee and a muffin and occupied one of the vacant booths. His eyes popped wider when Alex slid in across from him.

  "Hey," he said.

  "Oh..." The youth coughed up some coffee that went down the wrong hatch into a napkin. "Uh, hi."

  "I have a proposition for you."

  "I...that's..." He gripped his coffee with both hands as if steadying himself. "That's flattering. Very flattering from someone as handsome as yourself. Sadly, I'm in a relationship."

  Alex was glad she wasn't drinking coffee because she surely would've sprayed him when she sputtered out a laugh.

  "I had something slightly different in mind," she said. "You're going to Madison, right?"

  "Yes."

  "How much did you pay for your bus ticket?"

  "Twenty-one dollars plus tax."

  "I'd like to purchase it from you. How about one hundred dollars?"

  "Uh, well, I don't think so. That would leave me kind of stranded."

  "Two hundred dollars?"

  "Sorry, but I need to get back – I have an early class." The youth stared at her over his coffee. "Are you that desperate?"

  "I have a sudden emergency hankering for a grass-fed burger at the world-famous Mac's Drive-In."

  "Funny! That's one of my and my partner's favorite places to eat. Spendy but worth the price. Their strawberry shake with organic berries and milk is to die for!"

  Alex smiled. The idea of a burger place devoted to health food tickled her existential funny bone. Too bad they didn't have a place like that in the Real. Or did they?

  "May I make a suggestion?" the student suggested. "The bus has plenty of empty seats and the bus driver seems rather oblivious." He nodded to a rotund man in a Greyhound uniform gorging on a pizza. "You could simply get on and keep a low profile. I doubt anyone would say anything or that he'd notice you. The worst they could do is ask you to leave."

  "Huh. Interesting idea. Thanks." Alex rose, shouldering her pack, winking at the young dude. "See you on board, fellow passenger."

  The bus was nearly empty. Alex moved to the back and slumped down in his seat. After a few minutes, the other passengers clambered aboard. The tall jaunty dude with his apparent girlfriend or hookup nestled into seats across from Alex. The dude gave Alex a hard, questioning look. Alex responded with a sleepy smile. The guy wrapped a possessive arm around the girl and turned from Alex, leaning in for a soulful kiss. So impressive. Alex entertained a brief fantasy of seducing the girl just to fuck with him.

  The dark-haired student sat in the seat ahead of Alex. He turned with a smile and offered his hand.

  "Taylor," he said. "Taylor White."

  "Alex." She shook his hand.

  "May I ask you a question?"

  "Why not?"

  "I have a near-photographic memory of faces, and I'm sure I've seen yours before. But I can't quite place it."

  "That's the penalty for looking like Joe Everyman."

  Taylor laughed. "Hardly. You look like a model or rock star. You wouldn't happen to be some famous celebrity traveling incognito, would you?"

  "I'm a legend in my own mind, if that counts."

  The girl in the seat across the aisle echoed Taylor's laugh. She'd been tossing covert glances at Alex despite the awesomeness of her boyfriend. The boyfriend glared menacingly at Alex. Alex chuckled.

  "He's right," said the girl, flicking a brunette lock from her face. "You do look like someone famous."

  "Not to me," said her glaring companion. "I'll bet he's gay, just like his friend."

  Alex blew a kiss at him. His face colored, and he turned away with a disgusted snort as his girlfriend snickered softly. Taylor gave him an approving smile.

  The bus driver waddled up the steps holding a cup of coffee and a doughnut. He gazed in a perfunctory fashion at the passengers before moving to his seat. He paused and turned back around, staring straight at Alex, a puzzled frown forming. Alex affected a complete lack of concern. The driver turned away with a shake of his head and settled in his seat. They rumbled away from the bus stop.

  "I don't remember seeing him before this stop," the athlete-jerk opined in a barely lowered voice to his girlfriend. "Did you?"

  The girl shook her head. She murmured something mostly below Alex's non-super hearing, but it sounded dismissive.

  "If you were serious about Green Mac's," Taylor said to Alex, still turned in his seat to face her, "I was thinking of heading there myself after we arrive. I expect I'll be famished by then. My car's at the station. I could give you a lift, if you'd like."

  "Thanks. I might take you up on that."

  Taylor faced forward with a pleased smile and Alex closed her eyes. Good time to depart her avatar. He could nap while she performed her usual nourishings and ablutions.

  A
LEX AWAKENED in her avatar 90 minutes later to a different vibe. Verse co-founder and her professor, Wendell Martin, had once said: "The important truths are subtle." He'd meant that the obvious stuff, the stuff everyone understood easily, weren't the important truths. "All the important problems and insights involved subtle reasoning," he'd added. That remark, made early in the year, had stuck with her.

  The changes in the bus were subtle. First, the couple had moved to the front of the bus. Possibly, she'd made them uncomfortable, but since she'd been asleep, that struck her as unlikely. Secondly, more significantly, the bus driver was glancing back at her when she'd opened her eyes. The glance had seemed nervous. What would make him nervous?

  They were approaching a large city. Not Madison – too soon for that – but the biggest city before that. Rockland, wasn't it? Alex leaned forward to the gaps between the seats ahead of her. Through the gap, she saw that Taylor White was playing a videogame on his laptop. If something was up, he wasn't aware of it.

  "Taylor," Alex said softly.

  "Oh, hey." He paused the game video and turned his head toward the seat crack. "You're awake. You were really out of it for a while."

  "Did I miss anything?"

  "Not that I noticed."

  "When did the romantic couple move?"

  "I don't know. An hour or so ago, I guess."

  "Any indication why?"

  "Not really. They got real quiet and serious all of a sudden. Huddled over a cell phone, text-messaging. Seemed rather disturbed. Perhaps the Bachelor chose the wrong woman on the TV show?"

  "I can see how that would be traumatizing."

  Text-messaging. Disturbed. Suddenly quiet. Now what did that imply?

  "Did you happen to notice..." Alex paused, a theory forming. "Did they take a photo of me with their cell?"

  "Maybe. I didn't see it. But the girl did get up and stand by your seat longer than seemed necessary once on the way to the bathroom. Didn't think much about it, then. They seemed very focused on you for a while. And I have noticed them glancing back here a lot. Just a subjective impression."

  Alex's theory came together in a flash: they'd photographed her, posted her mug on Imagesearch, and got a hit. Alex Milner. This world did have something creepily parallel to the Real's "See something, say something." Here it was: "See someone demonstrating an unusual ability, report it." DARE even had a toll-free line for that (3273/D-A-R-E). One reason why people were somewhat circumspect in employing their powers in the Parallel Worlds.

  The snotnosed little dweebs reported me. Though her avatar officially died when the missile had blown the helicopter to oblivion, DARE had to have its doubts. They probably performed a search of the debris and wondered about the absence of body parts. Perhaps they hadn't been actively seeking "Alex Milner" but had been on the lookout for any hints of his survival, which she'd kindly provided at the hospital.

  "What's wrong?" asked Taylor, frowning at her.

  "Not much. Just a bit of a speed bump. Or roadblock. Probably literally."

  Alex shifted over to the window, gazing down the road and up at the sky. Looked clear. But then they wouldn't want to spook her or endanger the passengers. A likely solution was to get everyone "de-bussed" at the next stop and then make their move. She dug five twenties from her pack and thrust them through the seats.

  "Treat yourself to a Green Mac on me," she said. "I appreciate your help."

  "I...I'm not sure I understand." He reluctantly accepted the money.

  "You will." Alex strapped the backpack on firmly. She had an idea how that might help. "Just stay cool."

  She walked to the front of the bus. The athletic dude and his girl eyed him warily, the dude grasping the girl's hand in reassurance. The driver looked at Alex apprehensively over his shoulder. No one else appeared alarmed. Perhaps the DARE agent the swooning couple contacted would've told them to keep quiet about everything in order to avoid a panic and tipping her off? Made sense.

  "Is there something I can help you with sir?" the driver asked, swallowing.

  "Yeah," said Alex. "I thought I'd get off early, ahead of the welcoming committee." She smiled at the couple, who'd lost a lot of their formerly rosy hues. The girl pressed back into her boyfriend's protective arms. Alex resisted the urge to be petty and maybe break one of the dude's arms. Instead, she extended a hand. "Give me your cells. Both of you."

  The girl couldn't hand over her cell quickly enough. The dude hesitated. Alex smiled.

  "So far, you're going to get through this alive," she said.

  The guy's face paled, confirming he knew what he was likely up against. He tossed his cell to her. Alex crushed both of the cells in her hands. She directed a TK pulse at the mike on the driver's dash, pulverizing it. Other people would have cells, but she might gain precious seconds or even minutes by blocking a few lines of communication and exiting the bus without stopping.

  She turned to the driver. "Open the door."

  "You, um, don't want to stop?"

  "No need."

  When the driver hesitated, Alex swung the door lever herself. She hopped down the steps – and leaped. In midair, she commanded her backpack upward, keeping her airborne long enough to lose most of the bus's speed before landing in a stumbling run. By then, the bus was a hundred meters down the road. Alex imagined Taylor's face plastered to the window, his thoughts struggling to make sense of it all.

  Alex sprang away from the road into a cornfield. Thank God for cornfields. She flew like a missile through the corn a few feet off the ground until the pack's straps started to tear loose. The GMs realism striking again: those straps obviously weren't intended to support the weight of a 215-pound man for long. She compromised by dropping to the ground and running.

  A barn appeared ahead. The muted growl of a lawnmower carrying out to the fields. A forty-something woman appeared around one corner of a farmhouse on a rider mower. Two pickups and a compact car attended a large, detached garage. The place had possibilities.

  The woman stopped the lawnmower by the front door and entered the house, not looking in Alex's direction. Moving at 3x speed, Alex swooped in behind her, not even noticing the Border collie flopped by the front steps until it sprang up with a startled bark. Alex continued through the door practically in the woman's footsteps.

  "What?" She spun on him with a gasp. "Who are you? What do you want?"

  Alex swept a cowboy hat from the entryway hangar and placed it on her head. "Just hoping to get a ride into town, ma'am."

  "Town? I don't –" She stopped herself, her mouth forming a grim line. "My husband will be back in a few minutes."

  "Why? Are you suggesting a threesome?"

  "No –" She wisely clamped her lips shut.

  Alex lifted a set of Ford 150 keys from the entryway hangars while the woman eyed a nearby closet. Weapon inside? The woman gasped as Alex tugged her telekinetically into her arms and kissed her on the lips. The woman was too shocked to protest.

  "Yes, I'm augmented," said Alex. "Big-time. Resistance is not only futile but hazardous. So let's go –"

  A distant whomping gave her pause. She moved to the nearest window and peered out. Twin insectile specks approached from the west. That was fast. She couldn't help but admire DARE's response-time. She guessed they'd had "birds in the air" tracking the bus.

  "On second thought," said Alex, releasing her and handing her the keys. "Why don't you take your truck and your dog and drive away yourself? Things are about to heat up here."

  Alex could see the farm lady had more questions, but she had more commonsense. She snatched the keys, called her dog, which bounded after her. Alex watched through the window as they both scrambled into her pickup. The helicopters, now the shape and size of large hornets in the sky, approached. Had they observed that a woman, not Alex, had sprinted to the truck?

  Could they see that a person was still in the house? Seemed likely. But would they blow up the house without knowing who was inside? Not likely. They'd probably land
and try storming the place. Not easy to defend with her level of telekinetics. Probably easier to take a helicopter out of the sky. But she doubted she had the power to take one down without a precise TK strike.

  Alex spent a long thirty seconds on Versenet looking into the military helicopters – particularly, the Blackhawk and Apache, which were the same craft in both worlds. The vulnerability that stuck with her was the tail rotor. Take out a tail rotor in flight and the helicopter was coming down; the only question was how hard. Without the opposing force of a tail rotor, the craft would spin out of control. The tail rotor it was, then.

  But before the helicopters – one Blackhawk, one Apache, she judged – approached within range of her telekinetic gifts, they parted sharply, angling out of her view on either side of the house. Now they could light the house up with missiles or cannon-fire from a safe distance and she'd be toast.

  But even if they were viewing her with thermal imagery, they couldn't know it was her. They did know she had telekinetics, obviously, and would assume the worst. The instant she showed her hand, they'd hit her with everything they had. Heck, at any moment they might just decide that was the safest bet without knowing for sure.

  Some skilled telekinetic practitioners could manage an accurate TK strike without seeing the target. Alex wasn't that skilled. She needed a line of sight on the helicopters to have any chance. I need to get airborne. In close quarters, I bet I'd be more mobile than they are.

  Casting about for a suitable war chariot, an executive-style computer chair caught her eye. A problematic vision burst in her head: fast maneuvering would tend to throw her out of the chair. Solution... Rope? Belt? Other? She opened a closet in the entryway. A strap or belt that reminded her of a seatbelt hung beside an array of horse riding accoutrements. Looked like it would work whatever it was.

  Alex strapped herself into the computer chair. The helicopters sounded as if they were hovering above the house, causing the floor to vibrate beneath her feet. Perhaps they were rappelling down to the roof right now, planning to break inside through the second floor windows?