Tandem (13 page)

This was definitely
not
a dream.

“Hello?” My voice traveled back to me on an echo. I was overcome with loneliness and dread. I almost wished the pain from before would return, just so I’d have something to concentrate on other than the ominous silence that blanketed the room.

“Hello?” I cried out again, louder now, hoping the sound of my own voice would comfort me, but instead the word came out strangled and half crazed. I was restless, my nerves thrumming; I couldn’t stay in that bed one more second. I rushed to the door and began banging on it. “Let me out of here! Somebody help me! Let me
out
!”

There was a window in the door, but it was small, and there was no angle I could find that would allow me to see anything in the hallway that might give me a clue as to where I was. I thought back to what Thomas had said to me about Libertas, what they would do if they’d gotten ahold of me, and I wondered if I was their prisoner now. If that was the case, then where was Thomas? Surely his concern back in the alley wasn’t for my safety alone, if he even cared about that at all; if they’d caught us, then what were they doing to
him
?

“Thomas!” I screamed. It was more likely, I figured, that Thomas had succeeded in his mission and brought me … where? Where I needed to be, he’d said. And where the hell was that? I shouted his name again, slamming my fist against the door. I’d pound until my hands were raw if that was what it took. He would come. He’d have to. I pressed my forehead against the cool metal and squeezed my eyes shut. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t. I gave the door one last halfhearted thump with my open palm, then turned my back to it and let one heavy sob escape my throat, just one.

My gaze drifted around the room until something hanging nearby caught my eye. I walked over to the collage of documents tacked up to the wall. There, among the various papers, was a photograph of Granddad, a blown-up, grainy reproduction of the image that appeared on his faculty page on the University of Chicago website. Next to it hung a map of Hyde Park, with the location of my house—and Grant’s—marked with big red Xs. There also was my most recent yearbook photo, my class schedule, and the Lab Schools’ annual calendar with the date of prom highlighted, last semester’s grade report, a picture of the Victorian and hand drawn blueprints showing the rooms on every floor, and several other photos—me and Gina making faces at the camera, Granddad walking into the physics building carrying his briefcase, and, worst of all, a scan of the picture that sat on Granddad’s mantle, the one that showed me and my parents at Disney World.

Sasha Lawson,
I thought.
This is your life
.

He’d planned it all. I guess I knew that deep down, but I hadn’t had much time to consider it before now. Thomas hadn’t merely stumbled into my life; he’d
invaded
it, coldly calculating his entry and playing me like a fiddle until he ripped me out of my world and into his. The knowledge that I’d fallen for it hit me like a punch to the gut. Whatever my faults—and I had plenty—I’d never, ever thought I was capable of being such a fool, of not seeing what was right in front of my eyes.

On the opposite side of the room hung two huge maps. At first glance, they were almost identical; they both showed the North American continent, with its odd, familiar shape. But upon closer examination, I realized they were in fact quite different. One was a map of the United States in the present day. I located Chicago easily; it was marked by an orange pushpin, teetering on the edge of Lake Michigan. But the other map was different, to say the least. Instead of the fifty states, it depicted two countries, separated by a long winding black border that skirted the Mississippi River. The eastern half, the United Commonwealth of Columbia, was partitioned into twenty or so “King’s Dominions”: the original thirteen colonies, plus West Florida, East Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan. Some states had been combined, or simply never existed in the first place. Maine was annexed to Massachusetts, Virginia and West Virginia were a single Dominion, Indiana included Kentucky and Tennessee, and Michigan and Wisconsin were joined together. The western half of the map was labeled “Farnham,” and it, too, was divided, by two vertical lines, creating three “Regions”: Louisiana, Mountain, and California.

What had happened in this world to make it look this way? I wondered as I traced the borders idly with my fingertip. And what, if anything, did it have to do with me?

The door slid open and I jumped, shocked half to death by the first sound that wasn’t of my own making. Thomas strode into the room, his expression placid but alert. Before I even knew what I was doing, I flew at him, meaning to hit him, but he caught my wrists and held me at arm’s length.

“I’ll thank you not to assault my employees, Miss Lawson.” I heard the voice before I saw the man. A moment later, he stepped out from behind Thomas, and I got a good look at him. He was no more than two inches taller than me, with dark hair, too dark given his age; in the harsh fluorescent light his face looked dry and creased. He was in his early sixties, definitely; he wore a pair of rimless glasses that reminded me of Granddad.

In all other ways, though, this man was nothing like Granddad. He was impeccably dressed in a pressed gray pinstripe suit with a white shirt and a silver tie, his shoes perfectly shined. He made no sound as he slowly crossed the linoleum floor.

The older man’s presence in the room was unsettling, but all I cared about was extricating myself from Thomas’s steel grip.

“Let go of me,” I snapped. Thomas was completely unfazed and held me fast, though gently, as if he was doing his best not to hurt me. He must’ve been under orders not to damage the merchandise.

“Only if you stop trying to bash my face in,” he said in a low voice.

“No promises,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Agent Mayhew, release her,” the man commanded. Thomas did so at once and stepped back, clearly believing I’d swing at him again as soon as I was able, but I no longer had the strength. Besides, it was clear that Thomas wasn’t the one in charge here, and giving him a good thump on the head wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

“Good girl,” the man said in a patronizing tone that made my fingers clench into fists. “Now, why don’t you have a seat?”

“I’ll stand, thanks.” I wasn’t really in a position to be mouthing off, but I couldn’t resist.

“You’ll sit,” the man said coldly, gripping the back of the chair. When I hesitated, he continued, “You’ll sit or I’ll have Agent Mayhew strap you down.”

Reluctantly, I sank into the chair, seeing that it was fruitless to argue. For the first time, I noticed just how cold the room was, like a walk-in refrigerator. Was it always this cold, or was it for my benefit, to shake me up even more than I already was? I
was
shaken, deeply. My insolence was more a reflex than a show of bravery, and even then I wasn’t sure I had either Thomas or his nameless superior convinced. But it made me feel better, to give him a little lip.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“My name is unimportant. Around here, they call me the General.”

“Where’s ‘here’?”

“Where to begin?” The General stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Thomas has already apprised you of the fact that you’re no longer in your home universe, I’m assuming.” I shrugged, which he took as confirmation. “In that case, welcome to Aurora. You’re in Columbia City, the capital of the United Commonwealth of Columbia.” My eyes grew wider as I attempted to process the things that he was saying, but he wasn’t giving me any time to wrap my head around them. “This the Citadel, the flagship royal military compound of the city. To be precise, you’re in the Tower, which is my domain. I am the Head of Defense in this country, and you, Miss Lawson, are my prisoner.”

“Your what?” Hearing myself referred to as a prisoner upset me terribly as I realized that, of course, it was the truth. I was entirely at the General’s mercy. Any notion that I’d simply been mistaken for someone else—the person they really wanted—evaporated.

“I don’t understand,” I protested. “Why would you want to kidnap me? I haven’t done anything!”

The General’s eyebrows lifted. “I find it interesting that you believe this may have something to do with what you’ve
done,
but I assure you that is not the case. In fact it has nothing to do with what you’ve done. It has everything to do with what you
are
.”

“Don’t you mean
who
I am?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

“What am I, then?” I said, in a voice so low it was practically a whisper. I wasn’t anything but a teenage girl! Surely that was
obvious
.

“Does it strike you as curious that I keep answering your impertinent questions?”

“Not really. If I didn’t think you’d answer them, I wouldn’t ask them.” I risked a glance at Thomas, who was standing near the door, his back straight as a pillar, hands clasped together near the base of his stomach. He stared at them as if they had something fascinating written on them, but I could tell from the tension in his shoulders and the slight incline of his head in my direction that he was paying very close attention to what we were saying. What a coward. He couldn’t even meet my eyes.

“It isn’t because you’re particularly adept at interrogation,” the General continued. “I’m telling you these things because I need you to know them. But the time for questions is over. Now it’s your job to listen.”

I was struck dumb. Growing up with an old-fashioned guy like Granddad had given me a healthy respect for authority, but nobody had ever spoken to me like this before. The General terrified me. My limbs felt loose and heavy, and I could barely lift my head. I hadn’t realized before how much strength I’d drawn from the knowledge that I was not friendless in the world, that I had people who loved me and looked after me. In Aurora, that wasn’t true, and I was starting to see just what a liability it was to be alone.

The General paused. “All right, then, I’ll answer one last question. You asked what you are. You’re an analog, and a valuable one at that.”

“What—?” I began, but he cut me off.

“What’s an analog?” The General leaned forward, as if he was about to tell me a very juicy secret. “Agent Mayhew, what is one of the most fundamental axioms of the multiverse?” He didn’t look at Thomas even as he spoke to him. The General only had eyes for me, it seemed.

“Everything repeats,” Thomas said, a mechanical recitation. He’d been asked this before.

“Exactly. Everything repeats. Over and over, again and again, throughout the multiverse, atoms assemble according to predetermined patterns.” He said this in philosophical way, like he really was contemplating the beauty and grandeur of the cosmos. By the time he said his next words, I had a pretty good idea what he was getting at, and I didn’t like the sound of it
at all
. “An analog is a double. We all have them; if not in one universe, then in another, and in an infinite number of others besides. And as it happens,
you
have an analog in this universe who is very, very important. So important, in fact, that I have spent a considerable amount of money and resources to bring you here so that you might replace her.”

“
Replace
her? Replace her how? Who
is
she?”

“Her name is Juliana,” the General told me. “And she’s the princess of this realm.”

I drew in a sharp breath.
No,
I thought wildly.
It can’t be.
The girl I’d dreamt of all these years—Juliana, the princess, the girl with my face—she was
real
. I was here because of
her
. The dreams, then—were they even dreams at all? Or were they something else altogether? Visions? Omens? Predictions? I didn’t believe in things like that. Raised by a scientist, in a house without religion, I wasn’t a superstitious person. Yet somehow I’d known all along. How could that be?

“Is she … ?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question.

“Dead? No, she’s not,” the General said. “Or, rather, we have no evidence to suggest that she is.”

“What happened to her, then?” I didn’t know this girl, this Juliana; she wasn’t me, and I wasn’t her, just as Thomas wasn’t Grant and vice versa. But the thought of her dead was devastating. I became light-headed with something that felt like grief. But how could I grieve for someone I hadn’t even known was real until two seconds ago? How could I grieve for someone I’d never met? It was a relief to hear she wasn’t dead, but that was clearly not the whole story.

“Juliana’s been kidnapped,” the General explained. There was no emotion in his voice, nothing to suggest he cared in the least about Juliana. But Thomas had shifted, almost imperceptibly, at his post, and I saw that he was fidgeting with the ring on his finger, looking truly anxious for the first time since he’d told me who he really was. “A revolutionary group called Libertas that operates within our borders abducted her.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Libertas’s goal is to destabilize the monarchy that has ruled this country for over two hundred years. Removing Juliana from these premises and holding her for ransom is their latest bid to do just that.”

At the mention of Libertas, Thomas looked directly at me for the first time. His eyes widened, and he shook his head. He was telling me not to mention our run-in with Libertas to the General. Clearly he hadn’t told his superiors about what had happened back in the alley. Who was he trying to protect—me, or himself?

“Just pay the ransom, then,” I said. “You don’t need me.”

“Unfortunately, their demands are too high, and anyway, even if we acquiesced, they wouldn’t return her to us. Libertas never plays fair.” The General sat back in his chair. “So you see, I had no choice but to bring you here, so that you can act as princess in her stead while we search for her.”

“No choice? Of course you have a choice! Just give them what they want and hope for the best!” I cried. “You can’t do this! You can’t just tear me away from my home.”