Unhappenings (55 page)

ur discussion of my possible mental illness largely unresolved, Helen and I began to see less of each other during the day. She would go out most mornings to run errands, or get some exercise, or just get away from me, I guess. But she always came back. We continued to have pleasant evenings together, and the physical component of our relationship did not really change. But somewhere in there, the conversations about setting a wedding date tapered off to nothing.

It was during one of these daily absences of hers that Athena flashed into my workroom.

“Is it finally zombies?” I asked.

“No crisis today,” she said. “Just checking in on my pop.”

“You missed Helen.”

“Yeah, well,” said Athena, “I don’t think she’ll be too upset about that.” As usual, Athena and Helen were on the same page while I was somewhere else. I wondered how long it had been since the last time I saw them hug, and realized I had no idea.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Thirty-six,” she said. After a few seconds, she added, “You’re thirty-three.”

“Thank you,” I nodded. “I honestly had no idea. Does this mean we are out of sync now? I seem to recall you being younger than me.”

“Out of strict sync, yes,” she said. “That’s been true for years. Chronologically, we are still seeing each other in the same order. Not counting my occasional visits to your undergrad self.”

“How’s he doing?” I asked nostalgically.

“Adorable, as always,” she said.

I laughed. The small talk phase of the visit fizzled out.

“Are we going to get a kill order? I need this to end.”

“We all do. But no, I’m still on strict orders not to execute him. More and more models are showing that making things worse.”

I laughed again, quite a bit less lightly.

“Tell me again how it can be worse?”

She shrugged. “Zombies? I don’t know. I’m tempted to put a bullet in his head right now just out of curiosity.”

By this point, I had seen Athena personally put bullets into the heads or bodies of more than two dozen people, some of them quite a bit less dangerous than Carlton. At least of half of those people were only dead until the next timeline revision. The temporary nature of their executions did not make them easier to watch. Or commit, I imagine. Helen knew none of this, and still she feared our daughter. She was the most insightful person I have ever known. Maybe I should have paid better attention to her instincts.

ne morning I came downstairs for breakfast to find Helen in the kitchen wearing both of the wrist modules, one on each arm. She held them up.

“Show me. What do I do?”

“For starters, you should probably take one of those off before you send yourself in two directions at once.”

“Oh, shit!” She hastily unbuckled the one on her left arm and let it drop to the floor, which it did with an unpleasant
thud
. She looked at her remaining wrist, panting, and started giggling uncontrollably. She flopped down in a kitchen chair.

“I was going to be so awesome,” she said. Then, lowering her voice and putting on a serious face, repeated, “Show me.” More laughter. “God, I am an idiot.”

As much as the vision of her wearing those tools of damnation struck me with apprehension, I could not help but laugh with her. It had been too long since I had seen this Helen.

“You’re not an idiot.”

Her laughter turned to tears, which she quickly and decisively stifled.

“I’m not kidding, Nigel. Show me. Stop trying to change my world, and let me into yours.” She stood, and grabbed my face with both hands to kiss me, hard. I could feel the cold palladium-copper alloy against my cheek. “I love you. Please let me be with you.”

I took both her hands and squeezed them. Then I unbuckled the other module. She did not resist.

“I love you too. That’s why I can’t let you do this. We can be together. Just give me some more time.”

She laughed bitterly at that.

“How much more time do you need?” She made air quotes around the word “time.”

“I don’t know. This standing wave thing is trickier than I thought it would be, and I’ve had interruptions.” As soon as that was out of my mouth, I knew it was a mistake.

“Then kill him,” she said.

I did not know how to respond.

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? Maybe not you, exactly, but she does. I can see it in her eyes. So do it. Kill him. I won’t even remember, right?”

“No,” I admitted. “You would not remember. We would do it before you ever meet him.” I did not say just how much before.

“Well, then, do it,” she said. “Do it, or teach me how to use that.” She pointed at the module still in my hand. “Take me a thousand years into the future, or a thousand years into the past.” She moved closer, and added softly, “or five seconds either way. Make me like you. Make me a traveler. Let me share your load.”

I felt my throat constrict. It would be so easy. Right then and there. Five seconds and we could be together for the rest of lives. Together in purgatory.

“No,” I whispered.

She stood there in silence for a very long time. Then she gently removed the module from my hand and put it on the table. She took my face in her hands and kissed me. It reminded me very much of our first kiss. No desperation, no passion, just simple, warm love.

Then she quietly walked out the door, got in her car, and drove away.

or an hour, I allowed myself to believe she was just giving herself some space. She rarely stayed home during the day as it was. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Eventually I went into the bedroom to confirm a substantial amount of her clothing was gone, along with other personal items. Sitting on her dresser was the box her engagement ring had come in. I did not recall it being there before. Sick to my stomach, I took it and opened it to get it over with. It was empty. I took that for the mixed message it was obviously intended to be, and chose to call it hope.

And then, at the single least considerate possible moment, Carlton destroyed the world again.