A Step to Nowhere

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A Step to Nowhere Page 10

by Natasha A. Salnikova


  I was silent. Drank my tea and digested the received information. This country was so developed technologically, but submitted fully to the power of one man. How was it even possible?

  “Bristow subdues the world. Slowly but surely. We are the only country who has created a corridor to another dimension. Monopoly. Other countries want to join us; they merge with us. Five countries in seven years. Of course we can’t keep our politics secret, the information gets out and there are fewer countries that are willing to become our family, but there are still some. The leaders of other countries are ready to sell their own people for the opportunity to walk in the corridor.”

  “No one attacked you. That seems logical.”

  “The wars on our planet were centuries ago. The last one was with Napoleon. That’s why we have overpopulation. We’ve had the same circumstances in some things, but our histories are different. I’ve read about your Hitler. He was a horrible man. I tried to find him here, but I found only one cook. I’m not sure it was him.”

  “So Bristow destroys his enemies.”

  “He sees enemies in everyone.”

  “How does he explain his actions?”

  “They threaten his life or the president’s. They want to assassinate him. Tens of people every day threaten his life. One report to the authorities is enough for a person to go to jail. Almost always—death penalty. The earth is overpopulated and this, I guess, is a good method of cleaning. We created a movement—Hlifian. You don’t use this language now. I would translate it as Rising. We try to stop all of this. Save the accused. We have our people working as Police. They inform us about new names. If we have time to warn people, they run. We call them irnaners. Most of them reach The City of Lost and hide there. It’s an area of poor people and criminals. They hide irnaners in their homes or other places. Police rarely go there. They’re being careful about stepping on that territory. Sometimes they organize military cleanings and arrest lots of irnaners during those.

  “That’s horrible. Death penalty?”

  “There’s no money to feed criminals,” Velma smiled sadly. She drank her tea, not looking at me. “It’s a nice drink. Strange, but nice. I’ve heard that you have delicious food.”

  “I like it,” I said. “I’ve known your double in our world.”

  “That can’t be true!” The woman straightened up. “It’s so interesting. Who is she? What does she do? Is she a good woman?”

  “She’s a very good woman. I haven’t seen her in ages, but she was my teacher in the art school.”

  Velma raised her hands.

  “I was a chemistry teacher before retiring! But I can’t tell you how much I love to paint! I’ve been painting forever! Do you want me to show you some? Actually, what am I talking about? You’re in such great trouble. We’re also waiting for the call.”

  “I’ll look at them with pleasure.”

  The woman jumped up, rushed to the bed, and pulled a huge box from under it.

  I am in a parallel dimension, somebody wants to kill me, and I am looking at my art teacher’s double’s paintings. Somebody, please, wake me up!

  CHAPTER 15

  Jason looked at the picture again.

  “Are you sure it’s her?”

  His partner, Vlad, nodded.

  “Can you believe it?

  They received the photo a few minutes ago on their portable screen in the patrol car, and now they were looking at it, passing it from hand to hand. They were hunters and they had to catch an irnaner. They had gotten used to it; every day there was at least one irnaner. Today the case wasn’t ordinary. They didn’t hunt just another criminal; they were chasing a spy from the parallel dimension. At least it was what they had been told.

  “How could she get here? How could she run from the corporation?” Vlad said as he took the picture back.

  Jason looked at him, chuckled.

  “I’m also interested, but will they tell us? I don’t think she has super powers. Do you think she’s really dangerous?”

  “They sent her from that side for a reason. She must be something else.”

  “Why? Why can’t we just communicate with them normally?”

  It looked like Vlad suddenly wanted to change the subject. Yes, they were friends, but you couldn’t trust anyone at this time, so he didn’t. Anyone who had a family and kids tried to be as careful as possible. People had to control their words and even their thoughts, so they wouldn’t slip out by accident.

  “Something is going on there,” Jason said as he turned to the window. He felt Vlad’s gaze. “In the corporation.”

  “People from Planet Two have never shown up before,” Vlad said. “I wonder how they found out about the corridor.”

  Jason turned to his friend and partner, who didn’t trust him. Did he trust anyone? Did he trust himself? He, like anyone else, was afraid of every rustle. He was afraid to say a rude word to his neighbor, so he wouldn’t snitch on him. He was afraid to look at a stranger. What if that person interpreted his look as threatening? For him it was easier than for other people because he was a representative of the law, but he didn’t have a veto. No one was protected from the decision of the government. Everyone could be sent to Onis. He knew the word they used for it on Planet Two, they had told it on TV. Onis—jail. Many people had been using it in conversations lately.

  “If they’ve found out about the corridor,” Jason said carefully, “why don’t we try to talk to them? Why secrets? Why should we arrest this woman? Maybe they are afraid of invasion? War? What do you think?”

  “War? Why?” Vlad lowered his voice to a whisper.

  “To overtake the regime of Bri …” Jason snapped the sentence in the middle when he realized he had gone too far. “We are going to do what we have been ordered to do,” he continued. “That’s our job.”

  Vlad nodded eagerly.

  They sat quietly for some time, waiting for the next order, watching the pedestrians. The team of hunters searched the closest buildings. According to police, the spy ran in that direction. Hunters were ready to catch her. Jason was a team leader and he had gotten used to sitting in the office and tossing out orders, but today he went on a hunt himself. Actually he was sent to control the process personally. He had always worked with Vlad even though his partner was one rank down. They both were what people had called, Bristow’s dogs. Jason was proud of this title before, but now it insulted him. He saw the bad meaning of it and started to hate it.

  Vlad took a plastic lunch box from the backseat and removed some fruit keshir from it. He offered one bar to Jason, but he wasn’t hungry and Vlad unfolded a crinkly wrapper. The car filled with the smell of strawberries and oranges.

  “If they have learned about us on Planet Two,” he said with his mouth full, “the lottery could be cancelled.”

  There was nothing criminal in the statement, but Jason noticed nervousness in his friend’s voice.

  “Do you play?” he asked

  “Sometimes.”

  “Want to live there?”

  Vlad’s eyes widened; he shook his head.

  “No, of course not. Just to look around, as a tourist. I’m more for winning money. I like my planet. What am I going to do there?” His laugh was fake.

  “Like a tourist,” Jason agreed. Lottery. During their two years working together, they had never discussed this subject even though it was the most popular. As if they had been afraid to say too much, to say the truth. Of course, all of them wanted just to look around as tourists. Then stay there, as many of them had done. They had never come back. The lucky ones. Every one of them who owned millions or hit the jackpot in lotto. They could run from this planet, full of pard, cowards and traitors. Who wanted to live on a planet where kids snitched on their parents to get a five thousand dollar reward? What about the parents? They were thrown into Onis and very few of them had gotten out of there alive and free. There was no kindness on this planet, no love. Human life lost its meaning, but gained a price tag. Five thousan
d dollars. Jason had never reported on anyone even though sometimes they needed money more than conscience. He just couldn’t. He knew that with the first report he would sell his soul. Sometimes the investigation had been minimal, formal and a suspect in Bristow’s association was released. That happened if an arrested person was a friend or relative of somebody in the government. If he had a responsible and exceptional profession, like a school teacher. Despite of everything, Bristow valued teachers and medical workers. If an arrested person had deep pockets, he also had a chance to go free. Sometimes the richest of the country also had been reported. People did it for revenge or because of jealousy. A canary knew beforehand that his tip-off would be ignored and no reward would be provided, but his self-esteem was rewarded because a person who lived better than he, because of him, had been in lleh for a few days. People had modest ambitions these days and ways to satisfy them.

  “Why did they tell us not to take her to the corporation or Onis? What do you think?” Vlad asked thoughtfully and immediately focused his worried eyes on Jason. Jason wanted to let his friend know that he would never snitch on him, but conversations like this could only make the situation worse. He would believe silence more than words like this.

  “I don’t know,” Jason finally said. “Out of interest?”

  Yes, Jason knew that Vlad hadn’t reported, but how could he foresee when a person was ready to cross the line? On another side, he was promised to have a happy life. What would he give? And what would give to him? How many years had he been carrying the plan? If somebody would read his mind, they could learn that his biggest desire was the assassination of the unofficial leader of America. Nickolas Bristow. Maniac, with too many hang-ups. Despot, hated by everyone, but no one would say it out loud. Kill Bristow and paint the building in green, blue and red, drink vodka with coffee, blow up colorful balloons, and dance. Smile at each other openly, make friends, and start living again. It seemed so easy.

  “Even if she has been in this area, somebody could have helped her get to The City of Lost,” Vlad said. “Hlifian takes over the city. They are everywhere.”

  Could Jason hear something like triumph in his friend’s voice? He wanted to believe it, he wanted to ask. Even more than that, he wanted to know someone who belonged to the movement so he could join them. He heard that they’d even sneaked into the government. Too bad they worked slowly. Too slowly.

  “Those bastards are everywhere,” Vlad said indifferently.

  “Yeah.” Jason copied his tone as he looked at the photo of the young woman. Was she really what they said? Should they hunt her down? Maybe they should let them infiltrate here, so they would overthrow the government? Horrible thoughts. Bristow didn’t know that a future betrayer worked for him. He hoped Emma would never find out his real thoughts. She would be so disappointed in him.

  CHAPTER 16

  For a short time, I had forgotten where I was, looking through Velma’s paintings. I remembered my teacher’s exhibition. Half of the paintings of her double were exact copies. The same scenery by the river, the same portraits. It was unbelievable. I told the woman about it.

  “We have more in common than one would think,” she said.

  “I wonder if I was as close to my double.”

  “You don’t know anything about her?” Velma accepted a heavy pile of paintings, put them back in the box, and pushed it under the bed.

  “I know she’s dead.”

  “Your face seems so familiar. I have an image in my mind, but it doesn’t form. She looked at me thoughtfully and suddenly her expression changed, as if I had grown horns and fangs in a moment. She wanted to say something, but the phone rang. Velma blinked and ran to the phone. She ran fast for her age I should say. I could hear her talking in the other room, but didn’t understand the words.

  “Sammy!” Velma returned to the room with coffee, colored uniform, brown wig and sunglasses. “You need to change and leave right away. The informer just told me that the area is being combed and they can snatch you. I’ll let you use my car. It’s old, but still good.”

  “Oh, no! I can’t!”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s my duty, that’s why we’ve created the movement.” She pushed silky clothing into my hands. “You’re so skinny, it’s going to be big on you, but the belt will take care of it.”

  “Thank you so much for everything.”

  “If only I could do more. I feel so bad for my planet. We could be friends.”

  “You don’t have anything to do with the decisions of your government.”

  “We all played some role. Go, change.”

  I dropped my gray uniform in the tiny bathroom and stepped into the brown one. It hung on me in all places and the belt made me look like a snowman. Or snowwoman. Only my fashionable senses were sleeping. I didn’t care what I looked like. I hid my hair under the wig that was more red than brown, and I left the bathroom without looking in the mirror. Velma, an exact copy of my teacher, had been waiting for me in the corridor. She gave me some little, square thing, the size of a silver dollar.

  “The car is in the common garage. To get there, you have to pass two yards, buildings seven and nine. Only it doesn’t matter now. The hunters are looking for you on the ground, you have to go to the roof and get to the garage that way. All the buildings are connected with fire landings. Here.” A key fell on my palm. “It fits all the doors that lead to the roof. Universal key. Also this.” I took a black, plastic card with buttons. The woman touched one of them and the screen lit up. “Manual or auto?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I forgot, sorry. You can choose if you want to drive the car or it will take you to the place itself.”

  “Auto,” I said. I guess they’d invented self-driving cars. I didn’t know anything, so it was perfect.

  “It drives following all the rules and below the speed limit,” Velma said, looking at me intensely.

  I nodded.

  “Now, I will press this button and reprogram the guide for you. You have to say, I am Sam, your new owner.”

  Before I digested the new information, Velma pressed the button and said, “New owner.”

  “Reprogramming,” said a strange female voice. Velma turned the card to me and nodded.

  “I am Sam, your new owner,” I said loudly and slowly. Velma smiled.

  “Reprogramming.”

  “Now, say Auto.”

  I did.

  “Your destination,” the voice said.

  “Park Street Twelve,” I said.

  “Reprogramming.”

  “What do I do with this thing?” I showed the cube.

  “Repeat your question,” the voice asked.

  Velma pressed the bottom and the card died.

  “You push this little button,” she said. “It’ll unlock the car. Then you plug the guide in the middle of the wheel and turn it on. See the holes here?”

  I did notice two tiny holes.

  “If that person, who is supposed to help you, is not able to do so, you’ll have to go to The City of Lost and find Ronald Even. Ron, we call him. I don’t know if anyone can help you to get to the corridor, but Ronny is our guy, he’s one of the best. I’d go with you, but they need me here. Until they find out who I am. I am a quiet, old lady and so far no one has suspected me. I hope to help people more.”

  “Thank you for helping me.”

  “Be careful. Good luck.”

  The woman told me her car’s number and the place where it was parked. I hid the key, the cube, and the card in my pockets, zipped them and at the next moment I was in the lobby. The door closed behind my back. I was once again alone in the strange world. Sam’s hunting season was opened.

  CHAPTER 17

  Without wasting time for thinking, I called for the elevator. I ran inside it and pressed the last, twenty-fourth floor button. The elevator was moving slowly, I thought, and I had time to imagine myself on the roof, so far above the ground. It was high indeed. The elevator stopped; I entered
the lobby and rushed up the stairs to the roof, hoping not to meet anyone on my way. The stairs were wide and clean, without a single spot. The windows had wide sills and there were vases of flowers on them.

  After two more flights of stairs, I saw a black door that must lead to the roof. I unlocked the door with no effort but couldn’t open it. I leaned on it with all my weight; I pushed it and I groaned like an old tractor, until the thick spring that was holding the door finally gave up. The door opened just a little bit, and when I squeezed through, it slammed shut, almost pressing me to the threshold. I found myself in a dark place with the ceiling almost touching my head. In the gloomy light I saw five stairs leading to another door. I climbed them and fought the door again. Yes, you never know when a good physical condition will be needed. If I had known, I would have gone to the gym without justifying my laziness by the lack of time.

  Finally, I was on the roof and it was the first time in my life that I had done it. (Huh! Today I had done first time in life sort of things that would be enough to last a lifetime. If I have a life, it will be.) I had never been on a roof and never dreamed of an adventure like this. I probably wouldn’t have refused to climb up if somebody had invited me to do it, but I hadn’t had many romantic men around me, I guess.

  “Interesting. Am I afraid of heights? I’m not scared to fly on planes.”

  I didn’t want to look down and I wasn’t excited by the prospect of crossing the bridge between the buildings. I saw the surrounding structures, but when I approached the edge of the roof I didn’t notice any bridges. I had to run to the other end to find a narrow, metal walkway with ledges on the sides. The ledges were made of metal rods, with spaces between them wide enough to stick a head. Maybe I wasn’t afraid of heights, but my heart started to beat faster when I clenched onto a railing and glanced down, leaning forward a little. I couldn’t see the ground. There was only abyss and I lost my strength and bravery. I couldn’t take a step. What if this excuse for a bridge would break? It could happen. What if no one had tested it? What if I was the first to step on it, ever? Who would run from a fire this way? They would all fall down. Maybe that was the plan? Who knows? I didn’t want to start learning how to fly today, in spite of the great weather. It felt like I wasn’t going to be successful, in spite of all this fantastic nature of the situation I was in. I guess one would call me cynical.

 

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