The Sister Paradox

by Jack Campbell

  I was still looking around for the Archimaede when Kari ran the last several steps and into the embrace of the giant beaver. “Archimaede, I have brought my brother.”

  I caught up just as the Archimaede switched its gaze to me. Its eyes were big and deep and very definitely not those of just any ordinary giant beaver. “It is well.” It had a deep and mellow voice, just about how you’d expect a giant beaver to talk, if one ever did talk.

  I stood awkwardly for a moment while Kari snuggled against the Archimaede’s fur. Feeling ridiculous to be talking to a giant beaver, I gave a small wave. “Uh, hi.”

  If there was some special greeting for Archimaedes, the creature didn’t insist on it. “Your name, brother of Kari?”

  “Liam.” I realized something that was starting to bug me. All of my life I’d been the only child, the only kid point of reference in my family. The Eagan kid. Now, to all of these people I was just “brother of Kari.” It felt funny. I wasn’t sure I liked it. My feelings toward Kari and this whole mess kept ping-ponging around and leaving me more confused than ever.

  The Archimaede waved toward a nearby log. “Come sit with us, Liam, brother of Kari. There is much to discuss and too little time.”

  I wasn’t too comfortable getting within reach of a giant beaver, but Kari obviously wasn’t worried, so I sat down on the big log not far from her and the Archimaede. It eyed me appraisingly before speaking again. “Did Kari explain the task before you?”

  “Yeah. She said something about a quest. We have to get some objects from my world that are here and return them where they belong.”

  “Just so. There are three things which must be returned to your world. You must find two of them.”

  “You’ve already got the third?” Finally, some good news.

  The Archimaede pointed to Kari. “Your sister is the third.”

  I felt a sudden lump in my guts as I turned to look at Kari, who had that my-world-is-over expression on her face.

  “Yes,” she said sadly, head bowed, looking at the sand. “I must return. If I stay, the walls may not heal, and it was my presence here which helped draw the other two objects. If I stay, the crisis will repeat in time. And so I must go.”

  I stared at her, suddenly understanding. She didn’t want to come home with me. No one was making her come home with me. She had to. She had to leave the only home she had ever known, a really cool place where she could LARP for real full time, and go to a new place where the most she could hope for was going to school at the grim fortress of the evil Lady Meyer. “Kari, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… That’s just awful. It’s really, really awful.”

  She nodded, trying to smile even though I could see some tears welling in her eyes, and that made me feel even worse. “It will not be so bad, dearest brother. As you reminded me, Mother is there, and you will be there.”

  Yeah. Great. I’d be there. Me with my welcoming attitude. My perspective flipped for a moment, and for the first time I didn’t see things as me having to have Kari move in, but rather saw myself as Kari, having to move in with me. And let me tell you, I felt even more sorry for Kari then. “Um…yeah,” I mumbled.

  “Liam, brother of Kari,” the Archimaede said, drawing my attention to him. “Do not judge how well or how poorly you have completed a journey before you take your first steps.”

  How had he known what I was feeling? “I know who I am.”

  “Do you?” the Archimaede asked. “Few really know themselves, and even then they see truth only in fragments. You have come this far, through the walls between worlds, and that is not an easy journey.”

  I perked up a little. Yeah. I had done that. I’d wanted to walk out on Kari, but I hadn’t. Still, the last thing I wanted to talk about was me, because at the moment I wasn’t too impressed with myself. Time to change the subject. “Speaking of the walls between worlds, I was wondering about those trees in that weird forest.”

  “They’re not really trees.” The Archimaede gazed thoughtfully at the actual trees not far distant. “What you saw were the guardians of the walls between the worlds, though the word guardian itself implies an intelligent purpose which may not be accurate. Your mind could not grasp the reality of the guardians, those things which normally prevent any passage between worlds, but your senses could not accept their true form, and so you saw and felt what you could understand.”

  “Then, they’re imaginary?”

  “No,” the Archimaede corrected firmly. “They are very real. It is the form which you saw which is not true. But they are deadly and powerful even when weakened. Do not mistake that.” He sighed, a great gust of wind coming from him. “And they are weaker than I had calculated. We have much less time than I expected. I had thought the danger would grow steadily, but the stress on the walls between your world and this one is increasing along an ever-steeper curve.”

  I could understand that. “It’s, what, a logarithmic progression?”

  “Exactly!” The Archimaede beamed at me, then his whiskers drooped in sorrow. “My calculations were in error. Kari, you could not have traveled to find your brother before this because the walls had not weakened enough, but now we must find those objects today. By the time the sun sets, the damage may be too great to repair.”

  Kari looked up at the sun. “Are they far?”

  “Not too much so. The objects were drawn to you, and so came to rest not far from here. I can tell you in general where they lie. It is not an impossible task, but you will have little time for leisure.”

  Her sorrow replaced by determination, Kari nodded. “Then Liam and I will succeed.”

  “Wait.” The Archimaede chewed on its branch for a moment. “There is something else you must know. The other two objects must be found. But that is not all. I have run my calculations and read the probabilities. In order to have a chance of succeeding in this quest, Liam, brother of Kari, must also fulfill the three promises he has made this day.”

  “Excuse me?” I looked at Kari, then back at the Archimaede. “Three promises? I didn’t make any promises.”

  “Oh, but you did,” the Archimaede insisted. “Three, as I said.”

  “I don’t remember making any promises!” I know I’d said some stuff to the unicorn, but I couldn’t remember the words “I promise” anywhere in there. Not right now, anyway. And I couldn’t believe that I’d somehow managed to make three promises during my brief conversation with White Lady or with anyone else. “What were they?”

  “I can’t tell you,” the Archimaede said.

  “You can’t tell me? I have to keep three promises and you won’t tell me what they are? What kind of deal is that?”

  “The only ‘deal’ there is, I’m afraid. I don’t know what the promises are. I know only that their existence has altered the possible path of events today. Even if I did know exactly what they were, telling you would skew the probabilities in all the wrong directions and perhaps doom your quest.”

  “What does that mean?” I demanded.

  The Archimaede gave me what must have been intended as a reassuring smile, though coming from a giant beaver that involved way too many huge, sharp teeth. “In simpler terms, by telling you what you should do, I would cause you to act differently. Anything I tell you will change what you do, most probably for the worse. Your quest will have the highest chance of success if you make your own decisions.”

  Great. For years I’ve been pushing Mom and Dad to let me make my own decisions, and now I get just that from a giant beaver with the fate of the universe, no, two universes, hanging in the balance. “You’ve got a lot more confidence in me and my judgment than most people do.”

  The Archimaede bowed slightly toward me. “The confidence must be yours. Trust in yourself.”

  “Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned,” I said, “it’s that confidence doesn’t do the job. In order to win, you also need to know the rules. If you know the rules, how things work, you can figure out the loopholes and the tricks.�
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  “There is truth to that,” the Archimaede mused.

  “Then if you know anything else, you have to tell me what it is, and you have to tell me the rules. That’s only fair.”

  “No,” the Archimaede said. “I don’t have to tell you any more, even if I could. I didn’t create the situation we’re dealing with, Liam, brother of Kari, but I can assure you that whether or not you consider it fair is of no consequence. Surely you understand the most basic rule of all, that the universe isn’t very big on the idea of fair.”

  “You can’t make me keep three promises when I don’t even know what they are!” I said.

  The Archimaede sighed again. “I can’t make you do anything. Only you can decide what to do. In any case, you made the promises, not me.”

  “I think I’d remember making promises!”

  “Perhaps you make promises of great import too lightly, Liam, brother of Kari,” the Archimaede suggested. “Perhaps you promise without thinking, even though a promise is among the most valuable of possessions for anyone who keeps them, and among the most worthless of things for those who do not.”

  I slumped back, shaking my head. “This sounds like one of those martial arts movies where the hero is supposed to learn the secrets of life while polishing the sensei’s car.”

  I got another very toothy grin. “I don’t have a car, whatever that is, and I don’t have time to teach you anything. Whatever you need to succeed must be within you already.”

  All right, then. We were toast. Two entire universes were going to be toast. Because all this giant beaver could tell me was that life wasn’t fair, and I didn’t need a giant beaver to tell me that. “I guess I shouldn’t have bothered worrying about that book report that’s due tomorrow.”

  The Archimaede shook his head. “You may yet fail your book report.”

  “That’s something to look forward to.”

  “Liam, Kari’s fate as well as your own will depend upon it. While I don’t have any particular feelings for you, I do care a great deal for this girl, whom I have taught for season upon season. Can you try for her sake?”

  Unfair. Really, really unfair. Kari gave me a brave look, and I realized that I couldn’t just leave her to explode along with everything else in two universes. The crazy girl trusted me. “Yeah. I’ll give it my best shot.”

  The Archimaede chewed a little more, watching me in a manner that reminded me uncomfortably of the way the unicorn White Lady had looked at me. “Do you have a Teacher, Liam brother of Kari?”

  The way the Archimaede said it, I had no trouble hearing the capital T in Teacher. I had to think about that. I had a lot of teachers, but did I have any Teachers? Somebody who taught more than the stuff that they ask you to know for standardized tests?

  Kari spoke up helpfully. “Perhaps the kwan-tum you have mentioned, Liam?”

  “Uh, no.” I looked into the Archimaede’s eyes and then I knew the answer. As a matter of fact, I felt a bit ashamed that I’d had to think about the answer. “Dad.”

  Another big, giant-beaver grin. “Your father?”

  “Yeah. He’s taught me stuff that isn’t in any book.”

  “That is well, for he will be Kari’s father, too. I may send her forth with that consolation. And Kari’s mother? Is she a Teacher as well?”

  “Well…” I was about to say “she’s just Mom” again, then remembered how White Lady had looked at me when she was sizing me up. That unicorn had the same look in its eyes then as Mom did when she was interrogating me about my life. “She’s like White Lady, sometimes, I guess.”

  “Mothers tend to be the same in certain ways, don’t they?” the Archimaede said. “Then Kari shall be well looked after if you should both reach your home again.”

  “If? Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a pep talk here?”

  “There are many possibilities and no certainties. I never lie, Liam, brother of Kari. Exactly which dangers manifest themselves is impossible to predict with any certainty, exactly what you will do cannot be predicted, and so I can only offer uncertainty.”

  “Feel free to lie! Tell me we’re going to win!”

  Kari smiled at me. “There will be no danger we cannot overcome together, dearest brother. We do not need the Archimaede to tell us that we shall succeed.”

  All right. If I couldn’t get some foolish hope from anyone else, I’d accept it from the sister I didn’t have. Of course, she wasn’t worried. Because she was nuts. I was pretty certain of that by now. Even more nuts than most sisters, as far as I could tell. But I’d played enough quest games on my computer. I knew what happened when a party of adventurers started out. They got waxed. Again and again. That’s what saved games are for. And clue books.

  I was still trying to retrace my steps since this morning in a vain attempt to figure out how I’d gone from English class to facing death under orders from a giant beaver with the fate of two universes riding on my ability to make the right decisions, when the Archimaede reached out and touched Kari’s hand. “I will miss you, She Who Is Apart.”

  The strange phrase at least distracted me from wondering how many possible dangers awaited us. I watched Kari and the Archimaede looking at each other and it held my attention because it reminded me of something. Dad and I used to do that, didn’t we? Sometimes, I guess. I vaguely remembered once thinking he could do no wrong, back when I was just a little kid. But he’d changed. Or maybe I’d changed. Did we ever look at each other like we’d used to, now? Or did what Kari had called being blinded by familiarity also keep me from really seeing my dad anymore? “Can you at least tell me one thing?” I asked. “How did Kari end up here instead of in my world?”

  The Archimaede nodded. “Yes, I can tell you that. Kari came to us on a wave of probability which slipped through the walls between worlds. The tiny possibility that would become Kari was to be there. Instead, in a moment of immense improbability, she was here.”

  At least he had finally answered one of my questions. “A probability wave? And Kari talked about her wave function once. That is quantum physics.”

  Instead of reflecting Kari’s ignorance of the term, the Archimaede shrugged, which is a very strange gesture to see in a giant beaver. “Your world uses the words quantum physics to explain much that you don’t yet really understand. In time, more understanding will come to you. Then you may call it something else. The name matters less than the meaning.”

  Kari nodded as if she had understood every word. “Then you do know Liam’s kwan-tum, Archimaede?”

  “Certainly. If fate brings you to the home of Liam, brother of Kari, again, you will find much of what I taught you of use there.”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “This doesn’t make sense. I’m old enough to know kids don’t come from storks or probability waves.”

  The Archimaede nodded again. “True. Kari’s actual arrival in this world came in the form of a considerable surprise for a certain noble elven lady. When Kari was born the fact that she was fully human was an even greater surprise, though at least it proved the lady’s claims of innocence in the matter to the satisfaction of the elven royal court. They brought her to me, and after I explained to them what must have happened, I took her to White Lady.”

  “Huh? Why didn’t the elves raise her?” That happened in stories all the time. I looked at Kari, saw that she was staring at the ground with a very rigid set to her face, and wished that I’d kept my big mouth shut.

  “It’s a bit complicated,” the Archimaede advised me in a gentle voice. “Elves, especially elven ladies, do not mix with humans here. There is a vast gulf dividing the emotions and ways of thought of elven-kind from human. Far better for Kari that she be raised by one who could give her love.”

  I just nodded back instead of saying something else stupid.

  The Archimaede took the piece of wood out of its mouth and used it to point toward that big ocean I’d caught glimpses of. “The objects that cause the stress in the walls between wo
rlds lie that way. I cannot see them clearly, but listen well. One of the objects holds time frozen behind walls of stone. It is in that direction. The other belongs to no world and rests in the well of the fire. It is farther to the east, and more distant.”

  “Huh?” I said. “I thought these objects were from my world.”

  “They are.”

  “Then how can the second one belong to no world?”

  “I don’t know, Liam, brother of Kari. You must find it and determine what that means.”

  Great. “Is anything today going to be simple?”

  The Archimaede caught my eyes with his own. “You may find some of the decisions you must make to be simple ones, Liam, brother of Kari. Following them may not be simple, but you will know what you must do.”

  I nodded wearily. “Like fulfilling three promises I don’t’ remember making.”

  The Archimaede nodded back at me. “Do remember this, if you seek reasons to do what you know in your heart to be right. If you don’t fulfill the three promises, I’m afraid the chances of your getting home again are very, very small indeed.”

  “That’s a good reason to try. A very good reason. And if I do carry out these three promises I’ll get home and everything won’t explode?”

  Another shrug. “Hopefully. There are few certainties in life.”

  “I know it isn’t going to make any difference, but I’m still going to tell you that that’s not fair!”

  “The universe doesn’t make promises, Liam, brother of Kari. People make promises. By so doing, they bind themselves, but they also create the conditions under which they can change the universe. Magnificent, is it not?”

  “Magnificent isn’t quite the word I’m thinking of.”

  Kari stood up, one hand reaching up and back over her shoulder to grip her sword by the hilt even though she kept it sheathed. “Do the objects we seek have guardians?”