by Barry Lyga
Moira growled deep in her throat, more out of frustration than actual threat. She backed up, interposing herself between the woman she now realized was a nurse—of course—and the front door, so that she could run if she had to.
“Get your things,” she said, “and then we’re out of here.” Holding a palm up toward the doctor, she said, “Take it easy. I’ll be gone soon enough.”
“Here, now!” Dr. White-eagle exclaimed. “What’s going on here? Who’s this girl in my house?” He snapped his fingers and pointed to Zak. “Are you her companion? What the devil is going on?”
From Zak’s expression, Moira realized that he had no idea that women were second-class citizens in this world. He didn’t understand the danger she was in just by standing in the doorway, alone.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Moira told the doctor. “We’re going to get out of your hair, and you can forget you ever saw me.”
“I highly doubt that,” the doctor said with some amusement. “A young girl, on her own, comes barging into my house to steal a patient? I assure you, that is something I’ll remember for quite some time.”
Zak had grabbed his shoes in the meantime and joined her at the door. “Moira, these people helped me. We can trust them.”
“Trust me, Zak. Three Basketeers.”
Dr. White-eagle shook his head, a sad grimace distorting his aged face. “I’ve known many good women in my day. None of them flouted the law like this, young lady.”
“We’re going now,” Moira announced with supreme confidence. The doctor seemed surprised by the tone in her voice, and the nurse did a double take, clucking her tongue as if to say “for shame.” That bothered Moira more than the reaction of an army of sexist men.
“We’re leaving, and I’m going to ask you—very respectfully and very politely—not to call the police or report us. As a personal favor. Not as a woman to a man, but as one human being to another.”
The doctor crossed his arms over his chest. “That boy is my responsibility. Ethically and legally.”
“I really have to go,” Zak said apologetically, slipping on his shoes. “It’s tough to explain.”
He backed out the door with Moira. She jammed her cap back on her head once they had the door closed.
“What’s going on?” Zak demanded when they were alone.
No time. White-eagle was probably already on the phone with the cops. “Can you run?” she asked Zak.
“Now? Better than ever, I bet.”
“Then let’s.”
* * *
Heaving and gasping for breath, they stumbled against each other as they collapsed into a doorway somewhere along Eighth Avenue. The building was condemned or closed or just not accessible from this side, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust along the door handles.
“I think we can rest here for a second,” Moira managed to say between breaths. She pressed herself as far into the doorway as she could, hoping to avoid idle glances from passersby. Her disguise wasn’t much of one, she knew, although few people in this world would imagine a woman trying to pull it off. She couldn’t risk being recaptured, whether by a street gang or by the police. There was too much at stake.
“Can you maybe tell me what we’re running from?” Zak asked.
“Not we. Me. I’m the one running.”
Zak cracked the first smile she’d seen from him since they’d left the hospital. The sight of it filled her with so much relief and joy that the fear almost sluiced out of her entirely. “Seems like I kept up,” he said wryly.
“Not what I meant.” She had her breath back now. “I have to run. It’s dangerous for me here.”
Something flickered in Zak’s eyes, and he smacked his forehead with his palm. “Irish! I forgot! I’m sorry—I was so out of it in the alleyway that I totally forgot—”
“Not Irish.”
Moira explained what she’d experienced since leaving him in the alley—the Dutchmen, and almost being sold to Sentius Salazar and whisked away to an auction somewhere.
“I don’t … I don’t get it.” Zak’s entire expression drooped. “This world seems so cool. They have all this technology and stuff, but they treat women … How does something like that happen?”
“The technology is just physics,” Moira said. “They got a universe with slightly different physical laws, is all. This world’s problem is sociology, not physics. I don’t know how it happens. The same way it doesn’t happen, maybe? Something happened a couple hundred years ago here that got rid of slavery before it ended in our world. Which is great. But then something else didn’t happen that gave women equal rights in our world.”
“But they speak English and they have cars and the city looks kinda similar. I mean, they have Apple stuff, for God’s sake! All of that without women being involved?”
“Maybe some things are inevitable, the way different mammals all evolved four limbs. Or maybe there were women behind the scenes. Or, hey, Zak, maybe God is floating above all of this, pulling the strings to make it work out. I don’t know, and I really don’t care. The upshot is that I don’t think I like this place.”
Zak nodded. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I hear you. Me neither.”
FORTY-EIGHT
There was nothing to say, so he didn’t. They were stuck in this world, which wasn’t so bad for Zak, but for Moira … What could he do about Moira?
“Maybe I could be your—what did they call it?—companion? If you’re with me, you’ll be safe, right?”
“First of all, I don’t think so. You’re too young. That’s why the cop chased us. And second of all, hey, I mean, you’re my best friend and all, but I’m not planning on spending the rest of my life on your arm just so I won’t get arrested and sold to the highest bidder.”
“Right.” Zak grimaced. Just a little while ago, this world had seemed like the answer to all his problems. Was Moira’s freedom the price he had to pay for his own health and the return of his brother? More important, what could he do about it?
“Maybe it’s just New York,” he posited. “Maybe in other places it’s safe to be a girl.”
Moira shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s just this city or this state or this country. I don’t know. You can bet I’m going to figure it out, though. But not right now.”
“Why not? Why wait?”
“Because I have a little bit of good news.” She fished around in a pocket and brought out a flask of a thick liquid that shone with a very pale light. After a moment or two, Zak realized it was very similar to the light that shone on the buildings.
“This is electroleum,” Moira explained. “This is the stuff Tommy mentioned to us.”
Zak took the flask from her, expecting it to be hot, or at least noticeably warm to the touch. It was no warmer than the surrounding air, though. The glass was even slightly cool. He tilted the flask and watched the electroleum perform a slow ooze as it settled into a new position.
“This is the stuff that’s going to bring Tommy back to life? It looks like glowing snot.”
“Apparently, this sample is depleted. You can do all kinds of things with it when it’s fully charged and programmed. Here’s where it comes from.” Moira had produced a folded sheet of something from under her ill-fitting coverall. She opened it silently. It definitely wasn’t paper—there was no telltale rustle. Instead, it unfolded into a perfectly smooth surface, its creases melting away.
“What is this?” He touched the sheet. It was slick like plastic, but thin like paper. It looked like a blueprint of some sort, but zoomed far out, so he couldn’t perceive any details.
“I played with it a little bit on the way over. Watch this.” Moira traced her finger around a section of the blueprint, then tapped inside the area she’d drawn.
Before Zak’s eyes, the blueprint zoomed in on that area. He gasped and his jaw dropped. It was like watching paper come to life.
“That’s…”
“I know!” Moira’s eyes danced with e
xcitement. “Isn’t it incredible? It acts like paper, but it’s actually some kind of computer display. Can you imagine if they could make phones out of this stuff?”
Zak thought back to Dr. White-eagle’s Wonder Glass gadget. “I think they do.”
“Anyway,” she said, now rotating the image with an expert twist of her wrist, “it’s totally touch-sensitive. And get this.” She traced a line on the sheet, following a path along the blueprint; where she touched, the sheet emitted a light, illuminating the trail she had made.
“That’s cool,” he admitted, “but what are we looking at?”
“This is an electroleum recycling and recharging plant,” she told him. “The guys who kidnapped me were planning on robbing it.”
“But now they’re not.”
“Nope. Because we’re gonna get there first.”
Her face wore the sort of triumphant and self-satisfied smile he knew well, the Moira-look that meant she’d gone three steps ahead of everyone else and figured out the solution to the problem no one even knew about yet. It was incongruous on the dirty, scratched face under the filthy cap with the misspelled version of Brooklyn on it. Yet it was so familiar and felt so much like home that he couldn’t help smiling back.
“Why are we doing that?” he asked.
“We need this stuff to break down the walls between life and death, right? That’s what Tommy told us. To rescue him and his friend. It’ll take energy.”
“Right. But you said that this place was recycling old electroleum. How much energy could be in that?”
“It recycles and recharges,” Moira reminded him. As though she’d been doing it her whole life, she manipulated the schematic until two different areas were enlarged and glowing. “The Dutchmen were just gonna steal the old electroleum, here. Security is minimal there.”
“But we don’t know how to charge it—”
“We don’t need to,” she told him. “They charge it over here.” She pointed to the second magnified area. “All the charged electroleum we could ever want.”
Zak squinted at the map. “It says ‘High Security.’ We’d never get in and then get out with the stuff.”
“Got a better plan?” She planted her fists on her hips. “Maybe you have an electroleum dealer on speed dial?”
With a sigh, Zak admitted he didn’t. “It can’t just be as easy as walking into this place, though.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Will we?”
Moira shrugged and grinned, and for a moment Zak was able to forget how dangerous this world was for her. “Well, I’ll figure it out. You can watch. Like usual.”
* * *
Zak had felt like an idiot going into a corner store and asking if there was somewhere he could get on the Internet for free. He felt more like an idiot when the guy behind the counter looked at him, perplexed, and said, “The Internet?” as if he’d never heard of it before.
“You know, like a computer?” Zak mimed typing and mousing. “Connected to other computers?”
The guy’s face lit up with understanding. “You mean the TIM! There’s a TIM café down on Ninth and Thirteenth, but if you just want to get on quick and free, head over to the Apple Store.”
The words Apple Store just didn’t seem to belong to this world, in a world so different in so many fundamental ways. But there had been Dr. White-eagle’s Wonder Glass. That etched Apple logo, hovering just above surface of the device.
Different world, similar world. Like twins, after all.
And so he and Moira headed west on Fourteenth, toward what was in their world called the Meatpacking District. According to the signs they saw on the way, it had the same name here.
Moira kept her head down, her hands jammed in her pockets, shoulders hunched, staring at the pavement as they walked. With the sun just setting, Zak felt guilty for enjoying the walk. The air was crisp and less humid than a typical New York August. Just a good weather day, or was the climate different in this world, too?
In any event, he could saunter down the street without a care, nodding to other pedestrians, smiling at them. No one would be scandalized by his presence.
He noticed signs banning women on storefronts. Or welcoming them, but only with men in their company.
It was a magic world, this one. A world where his twin could live again. Where his heart could be repaired.
And where his best friend was a criminal.
He wished that this world didn’t resemble home so much. Somehow, that made its flaws even worse.
“How did you find me, anyway?” he asked her. He told himself it was to help her relax, but really it was to take his mind off his own guilt.
“Tommy.” It was the last word he expected to hear out of her mouth, and it froze him in his tracks, rooting him to the spot. Moira kept walking for a few paces, then stopped and gestured to him in panic. “Keep up with me!” she whispered loudly.
Zak caught up to her. “Tommy? Really?”
“I was backtracking from the Dutchmen’s hideout, trying to make my way to the alley. And then I saw you, just standing on the corner. I ran to you and tripped and fell right through you, and that’s when I realized I was seeing a ghost.” She paused. “I can’t believe I just said that sentence.”
“Tommy! What did he say to you?”
“Nothing. He just started walking, and I followed him until I got to the doctor’s house. He disappeared right on the stoop, so I figured that was where I was supposed to be. When the door opened, I couldn’t believe you were right there!” She beamed at him, and her joy both invigorated and depressed him.
“We’re gonna be stuck here, aren’t we?” he asked.
Her smile dimmed. “Yeah. I think so.”
“And you’re going to be—”
She shook her head fiercely. “We can’t talk about that. Not now. Right now, we have to learn what we can about this recycling place. And find Khalid.”
Breaking into a futuristic building they knew nothing about, evading security, and stealing an alien substance they’d never encountered before suddenly seemed a lot easier than finding Khalid. Alternate universe or no, missing chunk of the island aside, this Manhattan was every bit as crowded and overpopulated as the one back home. Without cell phones, finding Khalid would be like isolating a specific drop of water in a lake.
“How are we going to do that?” he wondered.
“One step at a time,” Moira said. “We’re here.”
* * *
From across the street, the Apple Store looked astonishingly like one back home, except that it was lit by electroleum, which gave it an unearthly, beautiful haze. Moira couldn’t allow herself to be seduced by the pretty tech, though. This world was a minefield for her, a maze with death rays around every corner. She had to be careful. More careful than she’d ever been in her life.
“You go in there and find everything you can online about the recycling facility,” Moira told Zak. “I’ll be over there, figuring out our next step.” She pointed to a rather dingy and darkening alley opposite the store.
“That’s crazy. Just come with me.”
“No.”
He flung a hand out. “There’s no sign on the store! Women are allowed in there!”
Moira grabbed his face, pinching his cheeks together. “Be. Quiet!” she whispered. “Don’t shout stuff like that!”
“Sorry,” he mumbled with his compressed mouth.
Releasing him, she peered around, making sure no one had overheard. “You have to do this part.”
“It’s better if you’re with me. You’ll know what to look for. You’ll be able to remember—”
“I can’t go in.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “Too crowded. Someone might realize I’m a girl.”
“You’re being paranoid. No one’s even looking at you.”
Moira erupted. “Don’t you get it, Zak? This is my life now! This is my life here. I have to think lik
e this. All the time. I can’t just walk down the street or go into a store, like you can. I have to think about it. I have to decide which risks to take. Especially if we’re going to be stuck here forever. Everything I do has to be calculated.”
Zak stared at her for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, turning away. “I’m being a jerk.”
“You’re not,” she said, mollified. “It’s tough to get used to.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t even look at her. “This is all my fault. I was chasing Tommy, and I brought us here.”
“Don’t do that.” Her voice softened.
“Do what? Tell the truth?” He rubbed at his eyes to keep tears away. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here at all. And you wouldn’t have to be afraid all the time. And you—”
“‘No use cryin’ over spilt whiskey,’ my dad says.” She chuckled. “‘Just figure out how to get it back in the glass!’”
He laughed, and she laughed, too. Until she’d said it, she hadn’t realized how much she missed her parents. She could hear her dad saying exactly that, even though he rarely drank anything stronger than a Coke. Her parents seemed to like talking about drinking more than actually drinking.
“We’re here,” she told him, touching his face gently to turn his gaze back to hers. “And we’re going to figure out how to make the best of it. That guy Salazar said something about someone filling my head with ‘femalist propaganda.’ So there’s gotta be someone out there in this world fighting for the truth. And if not, maybe I’ll get to be the Susan B. Anthony of this universe.”
Zak sniffled and laughed. “I don’t even know who that is.”
“Of course not.”
“So you won’t go in there with me? Really?”
“Out on the street is one thing. But look at me.” She spread her arms wide. “I’m in a dirty coverall, and my face is dirty, and my hat came out of the garbage. Inside, people will look. Besides, it’s close quarters in there. If someone realizes I’m an uncompanioned female, I want to be out in the open. Where I can run.”
Zak struggled with his words before blurting out, “I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t stand the thought of it. What if someone comes after you while I’m fooling around in there? You were in an alley before, and the Dutchmen still got you,” he reminded her.