by Paul Black
Deja usually took her lunch early to avoid the crowds, but today it seemed everyone had the same idea. The thought of dodging children, dogs, and the occasional soccer ball wasn’t appealing, so she decided to head for her favorite juice bar. Maybe if she bought a compound shake, they’d let her sit and eat her sandwich. Hell, she thought, for as many times as she frequented the place, they should let her sit regardless. She was about two blocks from the juice bar when a pair of absolutely kick-ass pumps in a window display grabbed her attention. Any other day, Deja would have continued on, but with Sonny in town, she thought it might be fun to see the look on his face if she stepped into the bedroom wearing nothing but those shoes.
Deja made her way against the flow and approached the window. Its lone holoquin wore a look of perpetual boredom, dressed in a short, black vinyl coat and matching multi-zippered skirt. The conspicuous protrusion of its nipples triggered a vague memory of a girlfriend who bragged of an ancestor who was the first window designer to insist that her mannequins be anatomically correct. An absurdly controversial act that put the store – Neiman something – into the headlines for days. Now, every time Deja spotted an antique mannequin, it cracked her up to think there had ever been a time when people had been offended by something like that.
She leaned down and inspected the pumps. They were delicate and looked like they had been painted onto the holoquin’s feet. “Damn,” she said involuntarily, reading their price. She was admiring the skirt when she sensed someone behind her. She tried to find his reflection in the window but couldn’t get him in focus, which was odd because she just had her eyes adjusted. When a woman walked past whose reflection was sharp and clear, Deja jerked around and stumbled back against the window. The man’s coat shifted pattern, and the holoquin’s signal momentarily jumped to static.
“Mr. Marl, you startled me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, staring.
“What are you doing here?”
“Would you like to buy those?” He gestured at the shoes.
“What? Oh, no, no, I can’t afford–”
“I’m sure your boyfriend would like to see you in them.”
That’s weird. “Well, sure, yeah. He probably would. How did you know that?”
Marl didn’t respond.
Deja waved it off. “Never mind.” She started walking in the direction of the juice bar.
Marl kept to her side. “I’m here to see you.”
Deja gave him a quick sideways glance. The sidewalk was crowded, and she had to keep her attention forward or risk tripping on the person ahead of her. Marl, on the other hand, never took his eyes off her yet walked through the crowd with complete ease.
“Mr. Marl–”
“Just, Marl, please.”
“Is there something I can help you with?” A tall businessman caught the edge of Deja’s shoulder and knocked her off stride.
“I need your assistance,” he said.
This should be interesting. “Really? With what?”
“It’s who, actually.”
“Oh,” Deja said, grinning. “Is this about Cor?”
“Yes. It’s about Corazon.” Up to this point, Marl’s voice had been calm, nearly monotone. But Deja discerned something in the word “Corazon,” like his inflection was rimmed with joy.
“Look,” she said, shooting him another glance, “I know you’re a clone, and I know Corazon’s a clone, but she is a married woman ... and to a powerful man.” She walked to the corner and pointed at the juice bar across the street. “That’s where I’m headed. You’re welcome to join me, but we’ll have to make it quick. I’ve only got 20 minutes to wolf down a sandwich and shake before I have to get back.”
Marl didn’t respond, and as they waited for the light to change, Deja grew irritated. Her morning had been crazy, and with her taking some time off at the end of the week, she knew her afternoon would be even crazier. Now, she had to deal with this clone-thing sneaking up on her in the middle of the day.
He continued to stare, and Deja had had about enough. “Look,” she faced him directly, “I don’t know where you’re from or what you’re about, but in this country, it isn’t right to hit on a married woman.”
Marl remained silent. His goofy grin was beginning to creep Deja out. The way he studied her raised her guard even more than it was.
She matched his glare, and they had a second of stare-down. “Marl,” she said finally, “are you understanding any of this?”
He reached for her.
Deja stepped back, and her heel went off the curb. “Shit!” She stumbled out of her shoe, tried to sidestep a large, bright-green puddle, but lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees. The liquid splashed all over her.
“Look out!” a man yelled.
Deja twisted and watched in horror as two tons of public transport skidded toward her. The shriek of the bus’s hydraulics and her scream merged somewhere near the tops of the skyscrapers.
Deja opened her eyes to the backs of her hands. Between her fingers she could see the bus three feet in front of her, its registration plate glowing. A crumpled foam cup was suspended in mid-swirl two feet off the pavement, and the sounds of the city, which she usually took for granted, had been replaced by an ominous silence. Her face, the front of her blouse, and some of her hair were soaked. The grit of the street beneath the puddle dug into her knees.
“Deja?” she heard, dreamlike at the periphery of her hearing. She looked over her shoulder.
“Are you hurt?” Marl asked. He was standing at the curb.
Deja straightened and looked at him through wet bangs. Drops of the liquid fell from her body only to stop and hang suspended once they left her. She gasped as another one dripped and froze, adding to the dozen or so that floated like little green bugs just below her face and neck. She batted them away, which caused more to freeze all around her.
“Oh my God!” Deja said. She jumped to her feet. The splashes froze in delicate arcs, making the puddle look like a modern sculpture. She cautiously glanced about and discovered that everything as far as she could see was stopped in place. Cabs, people, birds, blowing trash – even the clouds had quit moving across the sky. There was no wind, or sound, or movement – just a dead and desolate calm. She turned and stared at Marl, who was still standing on the curb with a retarded grin on his face. Then the whole scene crashed down in a realization that threatened to drag her dangerously close to the edge of her sanity. Deja began to shake, and as the bizarreness set in, her legs grew weak.
Marl’s coat brightened, and its pattern shifted into a mosaic of color. “Please don’t be scared,” he said.
“Are you kidding?!” Deja asked. “I almost get killed, you bring the world to a halt, and you’re asking me not to be scared? And take that shit-eating grin off your face.” Deja brushed back her hair and watched more drops drip and freeze. “Oh, God,” she said, swatting. “What the hell have you done?”
Marl stepped from the sidewalk and approached. His coat shifted pattern again. “I haven’t done anything.”
“What do you call this?” She waved her arms.
Marl looked about. “New York,” he said, coming around to face her, “hasn’t changed.”
“Hasn’t changed?” Deja flapped her blouse in an attempt to dry it. She looked down at herself. “Aw, jeez, I just bought this.”
Marl reached over and took one of Deja’s hands. “You were going to die.”
Deja looked at the bus. The driver, his face aghast, was practically standing on the brakes. “What’s going on? What have you done to the city?” Her wits were slowly coming back.
“It’s not the city.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s us who are different.” Marl placed his hands into the pockets of his coat.
Deja looked around again. “I ... I don’t understand.”
“It’s a technology that’s hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
“We are ... in be
tween.”
“Between what?”
“Moments,” he said just above a whisper.
Deja felt her sanity slipping again.
“Look at your watch,” Marl said.
She saw it was still 11:41, but hadn’t it been about 30 minutes since she left her building? Deja looked from her watch to the juice bar across the street. “Wait a minute ... I mean ... how the ...?” She fought back a wave of nausea.
Marl touched her shoulder. “It’s all right. Here.” He walked over to a woman about Deja’s build, who had been caught in mid-step. He removed a pullover sweater she was carrying and handed it to Deja. “Put this on.”
Deja hesitated, looking from the sweater to the front of her wet blouse.
Marl turned away.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “Like anybody’s going to notice.” What the hell, she thought. She was already deep into this nightmare, and taking her blouse off in public was the least of her worries. Deja slipped the sweater on and wriggled it down to her hips. It was a little tight, but it would do. She tied the blouse around her waist and combed her fingers through her sticky hair. “It’s okay, you can turn around.”
“Walk with me,” Marl said, and he started across the street.
“Sure,” Deja said, catching up. “A walk ... Why not?”
Considering she was strolling around pedestrians frozen in time with a clone who had just defied the laws of physics, Deja’s fear and panic had somehow given way to inexplicable curiosity. They continued in silence for about a block, edging around frozen people. It reminded Deja of an old wax museum her mom had taken her to when she was a teenager.
“What kind of clone are you?” she finally asked.
“What I am isn’t relevant,” Marl said. “Why I’m here, is.”
“Okay, so why are you here? Which, I guess, means that you’re not from here.... Are you?”
He didn’t respond.
Deja’s nerves spiked.
“I’m here,” he said, “to align the future.”
“I didn’t know it needed adjustment.”
Marl stopped at a little girl who was perched atop her father’s shoulders. She had just licked her ice cream cone, and the scoop was threatening to fall on the dad’s head.
“Believe me, Deja. The future needs a great deal of correction.” He nudged the scoop back onto the cone.
“So what’s this got to do with me?” she asked.
Marl resumed walking, and Deja followed him through a group of Asian tourists who were taking pictures of an old building.
“It’s not so much you as it is Corazon,” he said.
“Why Cor?”
Marl didn’t say anything for about half a block. Deja sensed he was searching for an answer. “There is,” he finally said, “an underlying power that runs through all living things. It can be a profound source of strength, and at the same time a great weakness.”
“Are you talking about our will power?”
“No, it’s more basic than that.”
Deja thought for a moment before it hit her. “Love ... You’re talking about love, aren’t you?”
Marl kept walking in silence.
“But what does that have to do with ... Oh, wait a minute.” Deja grabbed Marl’s shoulder and stopped him. “Are you in love with Cor?”
His silly grin returned.
“Let’s review here,” she said. “You’re a magical clone, who can set everything straight, who’s fallen in love with another clone, and you’re telling me – a lowly human – that you’re going to adjust the future for God knows what. Have I got all this?”
“I need your help,” Marl said.
“What can I do for someone who can do this?” she asked with a wave of her hand.
“I believe my solution lies with Corazon, but she is so ... protected. It’s awkward for me to see her.”
“Can’t you just stop everything and walk up to her, like you’re doing with me?”
“I wish it were that easy. I’ve taken a great risk to talk with you. You’ll just have to trust me. I know she considers you one of her few friends, and I need for you to–”
“Okay, time out,” Deja interrupted. “Am I on the Net right now?” She pulled back the lapels of Marl’s coat and ran her fingers down their folds. “Where’s the camera? They’ve got new ones now that look like lint.”
Marl gently took her shoulders and stopped her. “We’re not in a game show. In fact, we’re not even on the street.”
A ripple of fear shot through Deja, and she shrugged off his hold. “Okay, Marl, or whatever you’re called, cut the crap! If we’re not here, then where the are we?”
Marl regarded Deja like her father did after she had said something stupid. “You’re still at your desk at work.” His voice seemed to vibrate inside her chest.
Deja tried to jack out, but nothing happened.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to harm you. Quite the contrary, what I end up doing will change the course of humanity.”
Now Deja was pissed. “Why all this?... You know, the bus, the puddle?” She stepped closer. “The ice cream cone?”
“Remember when you were six,” Marl said, “and you reached up and put your hand on the hot burner in your parent’s kitchen on Walker Street?”
Deja’s stomach knotted. “What the–” Her voice caught. “How did you know about that?”
“You knew it was wrong, but you did it anyway.”
“I was just a kid!” Deja edged away from him.
“And your mother lectured you about the stove, but you just had to find out, didn’t you?”
Deja’s heart was pounding inside her chest. She bumped into a woman and almost knocked a package out of her hands.
“For you to truly grasp the depth of my request, I needed to create a learning situation. You see, Deja, you’re the type who has to ... burn her hand in order to listen.”
Deja was beginning to suspect that this creature was dangerously more than just a clone. Her rational self was fighting hard to keep the rest of her from turning and running like hell, even though she knew how easy it was to obtain quirky information, especially these days. But what really frightened her was the fact that she had never told anyone about the incident. She had told her parents that she had burned her palm on a friend’s outdoor cooker.
“Deja, please. You have to trust me.”
She knew she should run, but there was something about Marl – a benevolence that registered on a spiritual level. Deja also sensed something else in him, like he was just a point of contact for something much bigger.
“Okay,” she said, “I’m listening.”
Marl took another step toward her, but Deja kept her distance. He acknowledged her and held his ground. “I would like you to arrange for Corazon to meet me tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can. Besides, why can’t you just talk to her like you are with me?”
“I would. But this,” he said, looking at the buildings, “is such an impersonal way to communicate.”
“You’re not, you know, just BSing me for some kind of pervo thing, are you?”
“If I really wanted to hurt you,” Marl said, his voice resonating near the base of her nerves, “you would never know it.” He turned to leave.
Deja didn’t know if she should be scared or relieved by this last statement. “Hey wait,” she said, sensing that their “meeting” was over. “How will I get hold of you?”
Marl glanced back. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” The goofy smile was back. “Have a nice lunch.”
Deja felt someone tapping her shoulder. She pulled the VirtGear from her forehead.
“I asked if you wanted to grab lunch.”
Deja rubbed her eyes and tried to shake off the disorientation.
Tooie Coupland was looming over Deja, her arms folded, lunch bag hanging from one hand. She was on the same level as Deja but produced a juvenile game show popular with teens. “You look like you’ve been at one
of those alternate life sites again,” she said. “What’s Green got you researching?”
“Ah, yeah,” Deja said with a bit of a headache. “I am, I mean was, at a site.”
“Honey, are you all right?”
Deja forced a smile. “I’m okay. Just a little spacey from jacking out.”
“Good, but let’s hurry. I want to beat the rush downstairs. It’s gorgeous day.”
“The rush? What time is it?”
“Now, honey, look for yourself.” Tooie leaned in and pointed to Deja’s screen. “God, you were in deep. Come on. Grab your stuff, and let’s go!” She abruptly turned and headed down the hall.
Deja looked at the time code and shivered.
11:42 a.m.
20. WELCOME TO HEAVEN
“Did you get any time between your meetings to take in the Warhol exhibit?”
Chaco increased the Netpad’s magnification so Deja’s face would fill most of the screen. “I did,” he said. “It was pretty spectacular, considering he did all of it before nanobots.”
“Yeah, I saw a documentary on him once. Really amazing how he blew into a tube and formed the glass. His stuff has this strange quality to it. I just can’t imagine how he created those things without tech.”
“We should see it together. I wouldn’t mind going through it again.” A passenger plunked down next to Chaco, and he scooted over to the window seat. “So, where do you want to meet tonight?”
Deja hedged a little. Chaco could tell something was up.
“Sonny,” she said, and bit her lip, “I’ve, ah, got to work tonight.”
“Really? How late?”
“Pretty late. It’s just that, with Green gone, and taking Thursday and Friday off, I’ve got to get ahead of these ratings reports. You know how Green is when he comes back from being gone.” She grinned, though not very convincingly.