A Step to Nowhere
Page 29
A few minutes ago, when we watched one of the reports about Bristow, I saw a woman who introduced herself as Emma Larson, wife of Jason Stanly.
“My husband,” she said with excitement and pride, “risking his life, delivered the material to our President. If not for him, none of this would have happened.”
I agreed with her. If not for him, I wouldn’t be riding in this car right now, but instead I would be waiting for my turn to burn in the microwave in the onis’s morgue. She was so proud of her husband. Maybe my Jason would find his Emma, too. I couldn’t continue my relationship with him. In these three days I had become a different person. I couldn’t wait anymore. I couldn’t lie to myself or to other people. I couldn’t destroy the life of a man who didn’t deserve it.
“Does the corporation belong to you again?” I asked without turning to Ray. We passed a kissing couple – a picture from a romantic movie. Near them, a few people organized a rally. They held banners with the word Hlifian on it. They yelled something, but we couldn’t hear the voices coming from the street. A few buildings away there was a huge poster of Bristow with mustache and horns added in black paint. What would become of this city in a couple of years? What would I find if I could visit here as a tourist.
“Yes, the corporation is mine,” Ray said.
“Are you going to keep traveling to my planet?”
“There will be no replacements, of course. Maybe travel exchange? It would be interesting. But we have to do it gradually. I would probably come too, but it depends on you.”
I turned to him.
“Why?”
“I don’t know if you want to see me.”
I looked down. Would I like to see him? Would I?
“As a friend, yes.” I looked at him again and he nodded.
“I’d like to meet my double personally, so I would understand the difference between us.”
“Do you need that?”
He smiled, caressed my cheek with his finger.
“I’m not him, right?”
“I don’t know what I felt or feel for you,” I said. “All those emotions I had… They were real, but I dreamed of a different person.”
“I understand.”
I put my head on his shoulder and stayed like that until we reached the corporation.
“How are you going to explain your disappearance?” Ray asked while we were walking along the white hallway for the last time. The smell of freshness: cut grass, a spring forest.
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“Maybe it’s a good time.”
“How long does the transferring last?”
“Eight minutes.”
“That’s enough.”
We met people in the building and they were still dressed in the uniforms. Ray said he was going to change it and probably some of the workers would be fired.
On the last floor, we finally entered the room we had strived to get into for so long, and couldn’t.
“Why do you call it walking in the hallway? It looks like a shower stall.”
Ray laughed.
“You’ll see. Ready?”
That’s a good question.
I turned to Ray.
“We are not saying good-bye, good-bye? I’ve gotten used to you.”
“You can easily find me.”
“How about my birthday?”
“If you invite me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
We hugged and Ray entered the compartment with me. He needed to go to my planet and give some orders to the workers there. He pressed a few buttons then asked me to pull the lever because it was difficult for him to do it with his wound, and then I finally understood what the hallway meant.
First, everything went dark and I became tense, but Ray hugged me from behind, pressed his chest to my back. Then, all the space was flooded with blue light and a long hallway stretched before us. I thought it was just an optical illusion.
“Let’s go,” Ray said as he took my hand.
“But … there’s a wall.”
“Not anymore.”
I moved forward. I felt as if I were walking on clouds. I didn’t feel a hard surface under my feet and the air was cold and humid. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before we stumbled upon a soft, silk wall. Then the light was gone and we were again in the narrow box with white walls and two dozen buttons. The door moved away and I smelled my air. The air of my home.
EPILOG
It had been two weeks since I returned. Ray’s driver took me home a few minutes after we went through the hallway. I couldn’t believe that the transportation machine was located in the university building, but it was so logical. No one paid attention to the new people in such a big crowd. They did pay attention to me, which was understandable. My appearance was noticeable.
My mom had gotten gray hair while I was gone. She called the police and together with Jason they had called hospitals and morgues. How did I explain my disappearance? I had to go to Hawaii for work, urgently. I called my mother and left her a message. Maybe she hadn’t received it. Then I couldn’t reach her from Hawaii because the connection there was horrible. Silly story? You bet! Not easily believable? I agree. I couldn’t say that anyone really had believed me, but this story was better than the true one. No one would believe my true story for sure. Mom, I was in a parallel universe and my copy tried to kill me so she could take my place. I participated in a Revolution and helped to destroy a totalitarian regime. Oh, baby! I’m so proud of you! Let’s go there for Christmas!
They didn’t trust me and definitely didn’t feel badly for me or pat me on my back. Mother threatened to spank me, she cried and yelled. I apologized and promised not to do it again. It didn’t make her forgive me completely and she scolded me from time to time. So did my friends.
I spoke with Jason. It was not easy to do, but necessary. I couldn’t love him or give him what he deserved. Also, if I considered Jason from Planet One, we weren’t meant for each other. I wanted to suggest that he pay special attention to women named Emma, but I didn’t want to interrupt the natural flow of events.
“Honey … Sam, why?” He looked at me with his innocent brown eyes. He didn’t look like Jason from the parallel world, but I felt his inner strength no matter what his actions. If he had to protect me he wouldn’t be afraid, but he would do everything necessary to keep me safe. I wanted to be with him, I had gotten used to him; he was mine, but I couldn’t love him no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I cried. I didn’t want to lose him, but he wouldn’t agree to stay just friends.
“I knew it,” Jason said, caressing my hair and hugging me. His embrace, his smell. “I felt it. It’s okay, Sam. I know it was difficult for you to say and I love you. I’ll always love you.”
He left and I stayed to cry alone. Cry out all my tears over lost relationships and those that remained on Planet One. He was such a great person and I didn’t deserve him.
Two weeks had gone by. I started working again and living my life as if nothing had happened. Only, I went to bed with anguish in my heart and woke up from dreams where I was running down long, white hallways.
Today I was sitting on the couch holding a cup of coffee with liqueur and looking out the window. The rain tapped against it. My window was half-open and fresh, summer air filled my room, reminding me of my first awakening on Planet One. The smell of ozone. The air freshener they sprayed in the corporation, so people from Planet Two would feel they were at home, just as they had been …
I didn’t want to think about bad stuff; I made that decision and made sure I stuck with it. It wasn’t easy. Yes, I was afraid of making an ass of myself and feeling shame for the rest of my life, but it was better to take a step and make a mistake than to stay in one place regretting your cowardice. I’d learned that lesson. Act now, life was fragile and I might not have another chance. And what was I afraid of since I had gone through hell already?
“Hello … Who is this?”
Impatient as always.
“Ray.” I slapped my forehead when I heard how rusty my voice sounded. Well, it was understandable. My throat constricted, my hands shook, my heart was about to burst out of my chest. What was I going to do? Destroy the world? It was just a call! He wasn’t going to eat you or kill you! You’d created a legend! Remember what you went through! This one was a piece of cake. “Hi, Ray!”
“Hi.” His voice was confused, but it was my Ray. The one I couldn’t forget for so many years. The Ray I knew so well and whom I trusted. I’d been through a lot with Ray from Planet One; he even saved my life. I slept with him, for Christ sake! I understood, accepted him, and was attached to him with my soul, but he wasn’t the one I loved. They resembled each other in many ways, not just on the outside, but they were still different.
“Hello?”
The pause became too long.
“It’s Sam Bristow. How are you doing?”
The line was silent.
“Ray?”
“I … I recognized you.”
“Fadie … I mean, cool. We haven’t talked for awhile, I thought you wouldn’t remember my name,” I chatted.
“I’d never forget you,” he said.
“Sorry, are you busy? I can call back. It’s not urgent.” I pressed my hand to my chest as if I could calm my heart down.
“No!” I pulled the phone away from my ear as he yelled too loudly. “I’m not busy,” he said in a quiet voice. I just … I was waiting for your call … I wanted to call you myself, but … Where are you now?”
THE END
**
Thank you for choosing this book and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This book is really close to my heart. The idea for it came from my dream. The first scene in the book: the rain, the phone, the stranger, and the old friend—was described exactly as I’ve seen it in my dream. I couldn’t get over this dream and decided to base a book on it. This is my first, but not the last science fiction novel. I had so many different feelings and emotions while writing it; I wanted to share all of them with you.
By this point you probably understood that English is not my first language. I don’t know it, don’t speak it, and don’t write it as well as you do. I realize it. But I still do a darn good job! Of course, I couldn’t do without editing and I love my editors. Nanci, who helped me with this book, became a good friend of mine and she does an amazing job in understanding what I wanted to say. For example—flying soccer. Nanci understood that I meant saucer. Or—bite with a belt. She did figure out that I meant to say beat. Or this—...my copy asked my doubly and fleered. Well, this one I found myself and couldn’t figure out what it meant. I would say LOL here, but we are not on a FB. What I meant to say is this—I know I make mistakes (as a matter of fact, I didn’t send this piece of writing to my editor leaving it as it is) and if my editor did miss something, I will greatly appreciate you letting me know about it in email. asanat@mail.ru. You can also use this email and join my mailing list. I will send you letters about my new books and nothing else. I’m a good girl and respect your desire not to be spammed. If you enjoyed this book, please consider posting a review on Amazon or recommending the book to others. Trust me, nothing excites a writer more than a positive review (of course, only honest one). If you didn’t like the book, you’re free to say that too, of course.
I didn’t expect to write this much, but I can’t stop once I started to talk. Yes, I’m a talker. Again, this part of the book is not edited and I’m sorry for that, but it’s me and I want you to see the amazing job my editor has done.
I wish you all the best and happy reading!
Natasha A. Salnikova
My books
A Step To Nowhere
Quiet River
The voice of waterfalls
The Savior
Rotten Apple
Dark curtain
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The voice of waterfalls
Abyssus abyssum invocate
in voce cataractarum tuarum;
omnes gurgites tui et fluctus
tui super me transierunt.
Deep calls to deep
in the voice of your waterfalls;
all your whirlpools and waves
have passed over me.
Psalm 42:7
Chapter 1
Inga sat on a corner of her bed, looking at the man putting on his clothes. He wasn’t rude to her like the others. He even tried to be nice, but now he didn’t look at her. He had finished his business and forgotten about her. They all forgot. She wasn’t a person to them but a soulless toy. They played and left. They wiped her from their memory and they didn’t want to think that, besides a used body, they left behind a crushed soul.
What about this one? Would he forget? What if he could help? What if? Or was it going to be like last time? Oh, God, if it was going to be like last time she would be done for good. They promised and they kept their promises.
Last time the man was so nice, so understanding. He asked her questions; he wanted to know how she ended up in this place. She told him everything, didn’t spare the details, and he promised to help her. Yes, he did. He left the room and after a few minutes another man entered. Eagle.
Inga didn’t want to recall anything that happened next, but it was like trying to stop a speeding car. How difficult it was to stop a memory, printed with bruises on your body, with scars on your arms and face. They had beaten her, tied her to the bed, and kept her that way for two days. They wanted to suppress not only her will to live, but her desire to be a human being. They didn’t touch her for three days after that, they even brought her food. They wanted her back in “working condition.”
This man was the first since that day. Not many men wanted a girl with bruises, and Inga appreciated that.
She shivered when she heard his voice. He was quiet from the moment he entered the room, as if he was ashamed to be here and do what he did.
“How did you get here?” he asked. He was already fully dressed with his hands in his jeans pockets.
She looked into his eyes, trying to guess what was hiding behind them. Is it a provocation? Do they want to get rid of me? Maybe they set it up because some important guy didn’t like me? She wouldn’t survive another “lesson.” She would become the next Kitty.
Yesterday, before dinner, they brought Kitty out to show everyone. She was naked, covered in blood. Dead. They said she hadn’t obeyed; she’d offended a client and tried to escape. Everyone cried, except for Cleopatra. She said that she envied Kitty, because for her this hell was over. No one touched their food that night.
Sometimes Inga wanted to die too. If she was dead they wouldn’t awaken her in the middle of the night to put her under another client. If she was dead they wouldn’t torture her and hit her. Some girls committed suicide and she wanted to try it too, but she knew her mom believed that her little girl was still alive. She couldn’t give up. Inga didn’t have the right to die and, to be honest, she wanted to live. Eagle tried hard but he couldn’t kill her hunger for life.
“Are you deaf?”
Inga shook her head and started to cry unexpectedly. Tears flowed like two rivers, overrunning each other.
She bit her lip to stop herself from wailing. If Eagle heard she wouldn’t live to see the sunrise.
The man frowned but didn’t move. He didn’t even take his hands out of his pockets. Inga couldn’t stop now. She looked at the man’s blurry silhouette and didn’t wipe her tears, letting them wet her through.
“Do you want some water?” he asked.
Inga swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped her tears, but a new flow started.
“I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want my mom.
”
“Your mom?”
For a moment the man looked as though he had been struck by lightning. Inga pulled her throw blanket higher, leaving only her eyes visible. Why did she say that? What an idiot. Now he was going to call Eagle.
“Did you just say you want your mom?” The man took his one hand out of his pocket and pointed to Inga.
“I’m really sorry,” Inga pleated. “Please, don’t tell Eagle. Please.”
“Shit,” the man said as he scratched the back of his head. “You know I can get in trouble because of you?”
Inga looked at the door. Somebody might be standing there, listening. They didn’t trust her.
“How old are you?” the man asked, looking at Inga again.
“Twenty-three. Just turned.”
Inga wanted to add that she had turned twenty-three about eight days ago, but she had lost count of the days. She didn’t say anything. She would not stop crying after that, because eight days ago had been her birthday and she had received a beating instead of a gift: the taste of her own blood in her mouth instead of a cake.
The man shook his head.
“Where do you live? Lived? Where did you live?”
“Cincinnati.” Inga sniffed and wiped her nose with the throw. This man asked too many questions and he looked confused.
“We’re in Washington. My sister lived in Ohio. What’s your name? Serena doesn’t sound real.”
“Inga.”
“I’ve never heard that name before. How long have you been here?”