Coin #2 - Quantum Coin (6 page)

“No. That wasn't me,” he said.

“I know. You weren't yourself.” She'd told him that in their AA meetings, they emphasized how saying “I wasn't myself” wasn't an apology and it wasn't an excuse. It was a way of avoiding responsibility and continuing bad behavior.

“No, I mean it literally,” he said. “That Ephraim was one of my doubles from a parallel universe. I came back in August. Remember? You said it was like I'd reverted back to normal overnight. I kind of did.”

“That was a figure of speech.” She lowered her voice. “Ephraim. You haven't been drinking, have you?”

“After all the times I've lectured
you?”
Ephraim asked.

“Drugs?”

“Drugs, Mom? I don't even take aspirin.”

“Fine. Why are you telling me all this now?”

“Because I have to go away. To another universe.” He knew how that must sound. “But I'll be back.”

“Absolutely not,” his mother said.

“I'm sorry, but you don't get a vote on this.”

“I'm your mother, which gives me veto privileges over whatever stupid thing you're planning.”

“You've always trusted me. I'm asking you to trust me now. This is really important.”

“You're going to a ‘parallel universe,’” she said. “That's your official story.”

“Nathan will explain when I'm gone.”

Nathan's eyes widened.

“Nathaniel won't be with you?” she asked.

Ephraim smiled. “No.” Not the one she was thinking of, anyway.

“I feel better already. What about Jena? Is she involved?” his mother asked.

“Yes.”

“But you're not eloping.”

“Definitely not.”

“And she isn't pregnant.”

“Holy crap. Mom! Do you have to be such a
mom
right at this moment?”

“Ephraim, I don't know…”

“This is something I have to do.”

“I see,” she said, her voice tight. “Well, then, it doesn't really matter why you're doing whatever it is or where you're going. You're almost eighteen so I guess I can't stop you. I just want to know: Will you be safe?”

He could have lied. It would have made her feel better. “I hope so. I don't even know what we're dealing with yet.”

“Can you contact me when you get there?”

“Doubtful. Unless Jena's phone has a really good service plan.” He remembered that Nathaniel had contacted Zoe through a radio. “But if there's a way, I'll let you know that I'm all right.”

“You're not giving me much here.”

“I know.”

“Well, thanks for calling instead of just…disappearing. And I do trust you,” she said.

“Thanks.” Ephraim swallowed. “Listen, Jim's a super nice guy in every universe. He'll take good care of you, if you let him.”

“Do I need taking care of?” She laughed. “What am I saying? You're right. Is there anything I can do?”

He swallowed. “Just be here when I get back.”

“I'm not going anywhere. I love you, hon.”

“I love you too, Mom.” His voice wavered, and he half-turned away from Nathan, who was pointedly looking in the other direction, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Ephraim tapped the phone's screen to end the call and stared at it for a while, blinking back tears. “So, that went well,” he said.

“She'll be okay,” Nathan said. “I'll make sure of it.”

“Thanks.”

“Unless…do you want me to come along too?” Nathan asked hopefully.

“I'll feel much better knowing you're here watching out for her. She's really important to me.”

“Okay. But if you want company, all you have to do is ask.” Nathan pointed his camera at Ephraim's face. “There are those tears I was looking for!” he said.

Ephraim scowled and wiped his eyes. “Let's go.”

When he returned to Zoe's side, she silently opened the controller and held it out to him. She pressed a button, and the coin rose so he could take it. There was no need to reprogram the coin; the air around it was hot, indicating it was primed to go as soon as he touched it.

“Ready?” Zoe said. She grabbed his arm, and Jena took his left hand.

Ephraim reached for the coin. Just before he touched it, the disc wobbled and the controller's screen flickered. He pulled back his hand.

“You're sure that thing's working?” he asked.

Zoe frowned and tapped the screen. The coordinates for Nathaniel's universe flickered back on, and the coin repositioned itself by ten degrees. “Yes?”

“Great…” Jena said.

“Maybe you should stay behind,” Zoe retorted.

Ephraim shrugged. “In for a quarter, in for a pound.”

“It's ‘in for a penny,’” Jena said.

“Inflation.” He dipped his hand and closed it around the coin, pulling it out of the air.

The air rippled, expanding spherically from the coin in his fist. The parking lot became a hazy mirage around them, and Ephraim glimpsed a tall, dark building from another universe: the Institute where Nathaniel worked. He'd seen it once before, from the inside, when they'd dropped the older man off.

Then the shimmery sphere around them abruptly contracted, like a taut rubber band being let go, and the coin pulsed with sudden heat.

But they were still in his universe.

“Is this it?” Jena asked. She burped and covered her mouth. “Sorry. I suddenly don't feel well.”

“Something's wrong,” Zoe said. “We didn't shift.”

Ephraim shook his head. He'd felt
something.
As if his stomach were being stretched like taffy and then pounded back into shape with a sledgehammer.

“What are we doing here?” Shelley asked.

“Wait. What?” Ephraim asked. He looked at Shelley. “Are you all right?” He looked around. “Where's Mary?”

“Right here,” Shelley said. She waved her hand.
“Hello.
But why aren't we at the prom? Where's the limo?”

“Mary was standing right next to me,” Nathan said. “They both were.”

“What are you talking about?” Shelley asked.

“Your sister,” Jena said. “Where's your sister?”

She stared at Jena. “Where did you come from?” She looked at Zoe. “I didn't know you had a twin, J.”

“You're
supposed to have a twin, Shelley,” Jena said.

“I think I'd remember that,” Shelley said. “And why are you using my middle name?”

They stood in stunned silence.

“Ephraim,” Jena said. “What's going on?”

“I don't know,” Ephraim said. “I've never seen this before. In some universes there's only one Mary Shelley Morales. Twinning is a random event, so it's just a matter of probability—”

“How can you be so calm? Something happened to our friend!”

He didn't remind Jena that he'd once watched Nate shoot one of her analogs dead right in front of him. It was hard to say which was the worse way to go.

“She's gone,” Zoe said. “I thought I imagined it. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye while we were shifting. It was like one of them merged into the other one.”

“Guys, what are you talking about?” Shelley asked.

“Just a second, Shell…er, M.S.” He looked at the others. “We need to talk.” Ephraim and the others walked over to the closed gates of the park. He looked back at the single, confused Morales girl. He'd never seen anyone look so lonely before.

Jena was crying. “Is she dead?”

Ephraim shook his head. “She might be…nonexistent.”

“Then we shifted to another universe, after all,” Jena said. “We just left her behind, and this is a different version of her.”

Ephraim looked at her empty bucket and at Nathan. “No, we didn't. Zoe, is it possible that an analog switched places with her at the moment we shifted?”

“Anything's possible at this point. But I don't think so. I saw them…combine. That's the only way I can describe it. I'm sorry. This is effed up.” She tapped her upper lip nervously. “It must be related to what just happened with the coin and controller.”

“Why doesn't she remember everything that happened tonight?” Nathan asked. He looked pale and completely freaked out. “She acts like Shelley, but it isn't her. It's like she's both of them.”

“Did you see what happened when we tried to leave?” Zoe asked.

“You sort of went wispy,” Nathan said. “Like the ghosts. Then you were back. I recorded it.”

“I thought I saw Nathaniel's universe for a moment,” Zoe said.

“Me too. We almost made it, but something…blocked us,” Ephraim said. He'd felt some sort of resistance. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to go home.

“What do we do about Mary and Shelley?” Jena asked.

“Whatever's happening is bigger than them, or any of us.” Zoe sighed. “I know it isn't much consolation, but they're fine in another universe. There's a reality right next door to ours where they're both still at prom with you and Ephraim and Nathan. Where I never appeared to…” She looked around. “To cause all this.”

“You don't know your presence had anything to do with this,” Ephraim said.

“But the controller…if I'd destroyed it?”

“You can't blame yourself,” he said.

“I think that's usually my line.” She smiled.

“What do we do about Mary and Shelley?” Ephraim repeated. “We stick to the plan. We find out what's wrong with the multiverse. We try to use the Charon device again.”

“What good will that do if we were blocked the first time?” Jena asked. “Something else might happen to one of us.”

“That's also true if we do nothing,” Zoe snapped.

“Try another set of coordinates?” Ephraim said. “Just to make sure the controller's working. We'll go to your universe, Zoe.”

“Mine?” Zoe said.

“Why there?” Jena asked.

“Because if we make it, I can try to contact Nathaniel.” Zoe grinned. “Smart, Ephraim.”

He glanced at Jena. She nodded. Zoe dialed up her universe's coordinates.

The limo pulled up alongside Mary Shelley. She climbed into the back. The tinted window lowered, and Maurice stuck his head out.

“Hey, you guys ready to go somewhere else?” he called.

“We're working on it,” Ephraim said. “Give us a couple more minutes.”

The driver pulled his head back into the car and drove off.

Ephraim slotted the coin into the controller. Once again, it spun to get a fix—this time on Zoe's universe. When it settled, the three of them linked arms, and Ephraim reached for the coin.

He made eye contact with Nathan. His friend was devastated and afraid, so shaken he didn't even switch on his camera.

“Bye, Eph,” Nathan said.

“Stay frosty,” Ephraim said.

He grabbed the coin. The parking lot rippled around them, then warped back into focus. His stomach seemed to contract into a dense ball and rapidly expand to normal size. He tasted his dinner and swallowed hard to keep the bitterness down.

Ephraim blinked. Nathan was gone. So was the limo.

No, it was Zoe, Jena, and he who had disappeared. They'd made it to Zoe's universe.

“I'm going to—” Jena pivoted and buried her face in the bucket Ephraim had given her. She bent over and retched.

Shifting between universes invariably made people sick their first time, but the effect was brief, and subsequent trips between universes got easier. After all the trips he'd taken, Ephraim shouldn't have felt anything at all. It had been a while since he'd shifted, but the fact that he'd also felt a twinge earlier when Zoe burst into his universe, and that his stomach felt rather unsettled now, might be another sign that something was wonky.

“Welcome back, Eph.” Zoe didn't let go of Ephraim's hand until he pulled away. She preoccupied herself with the controller as he turned to make sure Jena was okay.

He was supposed to hold her hair or something, he thought. But his girlfriend shoved him away.

Jena looked up and got her first look at the shuttered library. Her expression turned even bleaker.

“Now that really makes me sick,” she said.

The dim moonlight revealed that its facade was drab and in disrepair, like most things were here. The glass doors were broken and covered in spray-painted plywood. The lion sculptures on either side of the steps, which Ephraim thought of as Bert and Ernie, were no longer identical—Bert was missing his head. Ephraim looked around, but the broken granite wasn't in sight. Who would steal a stone lion's head?

Jena had volunteered at the library since junior high, and worked there part-time ever since she was legal. She would have spent all of her time there anyway, so it was just gravy to get paid to be around all those books. It was practically a second home for her.

Zoe put a hand on her shoulder. “It's been a rough night, but we should get back to my house.”

Jena shrugged Zoe off. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her arm and took a deep breath.

Ephraim fingered the coin in his hand. He tucked it safely into the front right pocket of his slacks at the same time that Zoe stowed the controller in her own pocket. Just like old times.

Not quite. As awful as the evening had turned out, it could get even worse if he didn't watch himself with Jena and Zoe. He suddenly felt very alone.

I wish I were anywhere but here.

Zoe's bedroom hadn't changed much in the last year, aside from the addition of the massive black radio sitting on her desk and tangles of wire and microchips scattered among the familiar landscape of books.