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Feb. 3rd, 2009 10:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teddogWarning - Fic content. Avoid if it isn't your bag. I MEAN IT.
This is PART TWO of the fic idea gone crazy. Just broke 10k words, meaning that I think it is the longest fic I've written.
Balancing the Void
Part Two: The Mother Road
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slwatson
Rating: PG, at the moment. The most you'll get are references.
Fandom: IP&S NV/IP&S AMU crossover.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Notes: Off we go into insanity... I researched this sucker, but some small details might be wrong. Most of the things that look out of place are kinda wrong on purpose.
I couldn't sleep my first night.
It wasn't the type of restlessness I was anticipating; the kind where you can't close your eyes because you'd be haunted by images you can't fight back against. I'd suffered from those before, in varying capacities, but I knew now that I could deal with them.
The feeling was more protective than aggressive. Not even in that I wanted to be home so I could be there to fill the void that I left behind; to be that person that they expected me to be on a daily basis. I might not have left their side very often, but I knew that even though they'd miss me and no one could take my place, they could cover each other until I got back.
I just didn't want them to go the extra mile and follow me here.
The tracking device was dead; there was no way for them to figure out where I ended up. Normally, when it worked it would send back a series of mathematical formulas that would give Nance and Mike a rough idea about where I was. If it worked, that is, and the idea was unproven. My knowledge of quantum physics wasn't as deep as I wanted it to be, although I did pass the numbers through some other knowledgeable people next door. If they had caught on, they probably put two and two together and figured out exactly what I was trying to do. We weren't exactly forthcoming with all of the details.
It was an act of desperation, I guess. Not for myself, but for Mike. Nance and Arnie too, by extension. I was Mike's family now, but it didn't start that way. When Nance and I first arrived, the other ShadowKnights formed Mike's emotional backbone. I never really understood it at first, which was my fault. I had Nance to serve as mine and I was her own, so I never looked beyond that.
I was there when we learned they vanished, though. At the time, I was bitter and couldn't separate the part of Mike that pissed me off and the part of him that was hurting, with his family completely gone.
We moved on since then, though. In the passing months, both Mike and Nance had been spirited away to other universes; neither adventure ended particularly well. Arnie wasn't even from our universe originally. I was always behind, guarding our home until they came back. Sometimes, I wondered if I was never forced to leave because I had been the one always ready to run. As if the universe knew that.
Time changed things even more. Mike had managed to start standing up on his own, still loving his missing family but not needing their support under pressure. While the rest of us had become a new sort of family to him, it wasn't the same. It could never be the same, not until they came home.
Someone had to step up and try to fix the void.
I wasn't about to let Mike and Nance suffer again. Arnie was just getting comfortable with the world now. Instead of running away, I ran directly at the problem. I didn't regret doing it; the fact that I landed in Toronto, a place that I knew, was proof enough that there was probably a reason for me being here. I knew this city, at least the one back home. I could make it here, even if I didn't get lucky and land in the lap of the rebels. Even if I wouldn't be able to work on my computer until morning.
I rolled my head to its side, getting a glimpse of Shayna. She still hadn't left my side, worryingly loyal for someone who claimed she was a free thinker.
“Excuse me...” I spoke up. It earned me a glare. Apparently, Shayna hadn't slept either. If there were any truth to her claims, the rebels need her more than they needed me.
I cleared my throat. “Did you want to lay down for a bit?” I asked. The bed was far from perfect, but was miles better than whatever she could get from the chair. It was solid wood, with no padding whatsoever, not even a cushion.
“Hell, no,” Shayna snarled. A simple enough answer.
“Okay, okay,” I raised my hands up in defense. The customs here couldn't have been too different than the ones at home. There, it was normal for someone to offer up his bed, especially to a tired woman. At least, I think she was tired. It was hard to tell.
Shayna frowned and leaned back in the chair. It creaked under her weight; an almost silent sound, just barely hinting at the age of the chair. “I have a duty to carry out. No one, not even you, is going to stop me. Luring me into sleeping is just ridiculous.”
“I wasn't luring you into anything,” I explained, pulling myself up. “There's no way I'm going to sleep tonight, so I figured if you're going to slee--”
I was harshly interrupted by a cruel chuckle. “You have a raid tomorrow. If anyone needs that rest, it's you. Drowsiness? Ends in failed runs.”
“A run that you're taking part in, I assume?” I replied, returning that laugh with smirk. The aggressive edge I noticed earlier appeared to only to be the tip of the conflicts this woman had. I couldn't fight back at the levels she had sunk to, so I battled back with whatever threads of my sense of humour that I could dig up.
Shayna pointed to herself. “I've had enough practice that I could run these things blindfolded.” She pointed to me with equal vigor. “You're a newbie. You make these claims about having talent, but you haven't shown me anything yet. You might get the both of us killed!”
This woman was annoying to get a read on when she was angry. She reminded me of how Nance used to be, but pushed to a greater extreme. One moment, Shayna was challenging me to come on a raid, then a couple of hours later, she was accusing me of not being raid material. I'd be damned if I could figure out what she was trying to say beneath all that. I doubt she even knew herself. The only explanation I could think of is the past few hours gave her time to think things over some more and regret her earlier comments.
“I don't really intend on dying, if that's why you're getting at,” I said and that was the truth. I edged more cautious at times, just out of force of habit, but I never would start a run with the intention to fail. Missions like that can only end badly.
“Die?! Do you have any idea where you are?” There was a flash of something dark, almost manic in Shayna's eyes. It didn't stay long, passing as quickly as it came. “Would you even consider this a life? People die all of the time. Three of my college buddies? Dead. Two came back as bodies after a raid. The third dropped dead right in front of me. Charming way to start a start a night, don't you think? And on top of it, two friends I picked up along the way are missing. That's the end of them. Worse than death, I'd say.”
“Just because they're missing doesn't mean they aren't coming back!” I protested. I tried to force as much of my raw belief into those words. My mission, my reason for even pressing on now depended on me believing that.
“Don't you realize what happens to people who disappear? This is the world you're living in. You were apart of it, for fuck's sake!”
“Wrong Rick!”
The fight suddenly stopped. I grit my teeth, ready to continue on. This exchange was nothing compared to some of the ones I was forced into in the past. Namely, one extended fight that took place over several days at a run-down Days Inn. As brutal as that was, I silently thanked the experience. Shayna had let her guard down. I hadn't.
Shayna stared me down, but no words came out. Taking a deep breath, I finished my thought.
“I am not that Rick. The only reason I'm here is because my family is missing. One of my closest friends' fiancée is in that missing group. He can't just assume that she's not coming back without any proof. I'm missing there too, and they won't assume I'm dead. And I can promise you that if Rick and I swapped locations exactly, he's in good hands, if you're worried about that.”
“Not particularly, no,” Shayna half grumbled as she folded her arms. That was another thing I couldn't quite figure out and I didn't think she had either.
I sighed and sat up. My guess was wrong. Any details I gave her wouldn't comfort her, but it could ease her planning process. “If it means anything to you and whatever raid you have going on, I'm skilled in information retrieval, some basic communications manipulation and uh... guerrilla combat, I guess.”
She rolled her eyes at the comment. “Guerrilla combat. You?”
“Sorta. I don't really take well to prolonged hand-to-hand combat. In most case, I'd be the loser there. But, if I can get the jump on them and distract and confuse them into believing what I want them to, then odds are I'm going to live.”
“Huh.”
She didn't comment or press anymore on that. I couldn't say that I was keen on it either. All I really wanted to do was sleep and maybe wake up back home.
---
I didn't ask when I woke up. The shock of waking up in the first place unnerved me; I think I crashed after the fight, but I couldn't really remember. The night was one big blur of misplaced memories.
Shayna was up, beside me, in the chair. Did that woman ever sleep? Probably she did after I knocked out. Or she knocked me out in order to sleep.
“Raid's canceled tonight. It's back on for tomorrow.” she said in a formal tone, not even bothering with a “Good morning!” I doubt that many of her mornings were good.
I flopped my shoulders back onto the mattress. As simple as that, the concerns I had from the night before suddenly lifted. I wasn't looking forward to the raid, other than it being something I had to do to secure my spot in this world. She didn't spare anymore details. With the raid being pushed off until tomorrow, that bought me enough time to try to get home and have this world's version of me take his proper place.
Reaching over to the table beside my bed, I picked up the little wrist computer. Tapping the buttons even after it had rested for a while didn't help. I got the same reaction as before – nothing. Just a dark screen. Now, Joel and Bonnie, they could have figured out what was wrong at first sight. They probably wouldn't even have to take it apart to know what was broken. Problem was that Joel was heaven only knew where and Bonnie was back home. There was no way to contact them from here.
Wait.
I suddenly sat up, startling my personal guard. She reached for behind her back, had to have been for her dagger. I froze; any sudden movements would trigger a twitch from her. It took her a very long moment, but she slowly managed to relax and let go of the weapon before she pulled it out. Likewise, I managed to breathe again.
Okay, make a note not to make any sudden movements around Shayna.
But, there was a way to reach everyone back home; a bottle, with a note inside, tossed out into the lake. We were able to communicate with the team in Rhy'Din by tossing messages in bottles into the ocean. The great lakes were an inland sea, if my memory was right, and Toronto was just off of Lake Ontario. I could take a juice bottle, stuff a note inside, seal it with wax and float it out to sea. If all universes worked the same way, they'd be able to get it in my home universe. Mike ran down by the shore every other day looking for new bottles. He was bound to find mine. Heck, it would smell like me.
I could include a note explaining that I was alive, the computer problems I was having and remind them not to send Mike or Nance or Arnie in after me for their own safety. Shayna could even include a note for her Rick, although I'd imagine it would probably be full of cursing. It would work out perfectly, as long as I could get the materials.
“Do you know of any place I could pick up some supplies?” I asked Shayna. No details. She'd probably shoot the idea down if I gave any away, at least until I started putting the bottle together. It was honestly a bizarre idea, something out of a story that could never exist in the real world. On the other hand, I had seen it happen. I had nothing to lose.
The woman shrugged. “Most discount and department store chains are monitored by the supermen now. Canadian Tire and places like that, so they can track who's going in there and what they're buying. Apparently, it's to track terrorists. They also only take new bills printed by the supermen, not the old ones. I doubt you have either.”
Ah, so the supermen did control almost everything. I shook my head and pulled out my wallet. There were a mix of bills and coins in there; mostly American cash, some newer Canadian bills from the last trip we took and my secret good luck charm. Maybe it would work for once.
“Not quite,” I explained, yanking out a wad of colourful, folded bills, held together with a rubber band. “I still have some older bills here.” That I only had through sheer luck, I added in my head but didn't say to her. I had saved them from when I launched myself into space. Never had the heart to use them after. They were one of the few pieces of the past I had left.
“I'll take you to the street mall if you're that eager,” Shayna said, not seeming too interested, despite me pulling out cash that was borderline illegal. “They're a bit kinder to rebels. Kinder to anyone, if you have the cash.”
“Street mall?” My breath almost hitched as I said the name; if anything, it drilled home where I was.
Shayna shrugged off my reaction. “Yeah. The one on Yonge. Don't they have that where you're from?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not in years.” I could barely remember the mall, mostly from the stories told at school. Smart ass kids claiming that they got their parents or older siblings to take them down and pick up some issues of Playboy. Of course, when pressured, the kids couldn't make with the proof.
“Well, it's not the cleanest place in the city, but you can find whatever you want there,” Shayna explained as she stood up. She didn't bother offering me a hand for getting out of bed, but it wasn't like I would have any problems doing so.
I brushed myself off as I climbed to my feet. The room I was in wasn't the cleanest place in the city either. “Yeah, but wouldn't the police bust everyone if there were rebels down there?”
That was what happened to the original mall, from what I remembered. A kid was killed and the city clamped down on anything that seemed seedy. In comparison, this universe seems a touch more upbeat, not counting Ottawa being bombed out and the country being occupied and in a state of civil war.
“Nah, it'll make more sense why when we're down there,” Shayna said, this time taking me into consideration as she held the door open for me.
---
The warm spring afternoon was the first time I had been outside since I arrived. The safe house was in the middle of what looked like a well-off community. Not what I was expecting, but Shayna mentioned offhandedly that the rebels did have friends in some high places. Like always, she didn't seem impressed.
“All they want is for the free market to come back and the rebellion is the key to doing it. By day, they just play along with the government on Bay Street. A portion of the money made there gets filtered to us by people in the know, but it's not that much,” she said as we entered the subway station.
Davisville, I knew without Shayna telling me or seeing the sign. I mentioned the name and swore I saw the quickest passing of a smile cross her face.
The station was well kept, probably even cleaner that the ones I was familiar with. Couldn't tell if it was from upkeep or lack of us. It still had that same awkward design with the outdoor platforms, but in the bright sun that didn't matter that much. The breezes that blew through with the passing trains in the yard were refreshing.
I grabbed a system map as we walked to the platform and opened it as we waited for the next train. Shayna was on guard. Wary, but not overly such that she looked out of place. More keenly aware, the type of person you didn't want to tangle with.
The map was odd. The routes weren't the complete ones I was used to; no Sheppard line or Downsview station. Many stops in between, except for the Yonge line we were on now, were grayed out with the label “Limited Service Only” under their names.
“Limited service?” I turned to Shayna to ask her about it as we boarded the train. There were a few people in the car, but it was hard to judge who they were working for.
“Basically means that they don't have to stop there. And they won't a lot. If it's the middle of the night? Forget about it.” Shayna didn't even blink at how strange the explanation was.
“But what about all of the people living by those stations? How do they get around?” I asked.
“They don't.”
For the first time, the truth of Shayna finally dawned on me. I felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner. It wasn't that she was unimpressed or not interested. She was tired. Very tired. And if she wasn't tired, she was angry. The two were one in the same, the different sides of the same coin.
I looked her right in the eyes as she sat in the vinyl and metal seat beside me. “I figured from what you said that you were in university when the war started. But...” I felt like biting my tongue, forgetting that the thought had even occurred to me. Still, I pressed on. “How old are you?”
Shayna frowned and bit her lower lip, staring at the subway car's floor. It took a long silence before she finally spoke up. “I'll be twenty-two this summer.”
And that would explain everything.
The woman that I though she was, wasn't. She carried it well, but in physical age she was just beyond a girl. She was young enough that she could theoretically be my daughter if I was a bit more active in high school. The darkness that she held onto was the result of this war and the battles she fought in it before she had reached full maturity. I couldn't hold that against her either. In her position, I'd do the same.
Or, rather, I'd hope to be brave enough to.
I worried that there wasn't anything that I could say in return. I wanted to offer her a hug, to tell her everything would be alright eventually, but she was twitchy enough with that dagger that I wouldn't want to make her do something she'd regret. I knew that she couldn't tell my actual age or realize just how much difference there was between us. Maybe I'd explain it later, but not in public. It would get us both in a lot of trouble if someone overheard.
Swallowing, I said the only thing I could think of, “I'm sorry.”
She nodded and we continued the ride in silence.
---
We got off at College station. It too was what I remembered it, walls lined with brown tiles and strange hockey murals that didn't make any sense to me. I guess it was an artistic thing.
Shayna wasted no time leading me out of the station. Not that I didn't know my way out, but she wanted to leave in a hurry. As she put it, it was a small, enclosed space, not like Davisville which allowed a couple of routes for escape.
When we got to the surface, via a side exit, we found ourselves at the corner of College and Yonge, surrounded by vendors and people. Even in the crowd, Shayna seemed at ease, not bothered by the huge amount of people at all.
“It's a neutral ground in the war, so nobody likes to cause trouble. Even the police. They'd be overwhelmed,” Shayna said as we started walking south, passing vendors selling a huge range of goods, everything from bootlegged videos to girlie mags to fresh food grown in local backyards. If there was something to sell, you could find someone who would sell it to you.
Mall wasn't the right world for it. It was a giant market, completely out of place with being in the middle of a major street in the downtown. It was like everyone forgot, for a brief moment, where they were. Families out shopping mingled in front of adult movie theaters while a bunch of stoned teens were sitting in the dead centre of the road. At any other time, that would have spelled a shift end, but here the street was closed off to vehicles and filled up with picnic tables.
Overwhelmed by the insanity, I let my head look up, at the downtown skyline. What I saw made me stop in my tracks.
The condos, the symbol of the excess and the change in the downtown were missing. Even the office towers were thinned out, as the building from the mid-nighties and after hadn't been built yet. I looked over my shoulder, taking note of all of the old, out of date and out of fashion looking signs. Stores I knew, now gone.
Shayna must have not noticed. She called my name, sounding like she was some distance ahead. The voice startled me and I spun my head forward, looking for Shayna before the marquee of a theater behind me grabbed my attention. It shouldn't have been there, sending my stomach bottoming out and my body wanting to follow close behind. I staggered a foot forward, catching my balance for only a brief second before someone's strong arms grabbed my shoulders.
My first thoughts were of the police. I'm a stranger in a strange land with no papers acting bizarrely, even if the street mall wasn't supposed to be patrolled by cops. I clenched my fist, ready to swing at my attacker.
“Calm down.”
I knew that forceful voice. There was a edge to it that I hadn't been exposed to before. But it was familiar, and I could relax as long as she was there. I knew that the others would take care of the other me, but until now, I didn't know if the other way was true.
“I need to sit down,” I mumbled into my chest. The sudden weight of where I was hung heavy across my shoulders, making it hard for me to regain my bearings. I didn't know if Shayna replied with a nod, but she guided me over to a nearby bench with disturbing ease without commenting if she was used to doing this before.
I flopped onto the bench and stared at the theater across the street, not quite shaking off its presence and not sure that I wanted to. Shayna sat down behind me, close enough that I could see her out of the corner of my eye.
“Did you see a cop?” Shayna asked. She raised an eyebrow. “Or someone you knew?”
“In a way, you could say that,” I said, leaning back into the bench. I pointed at the movie theater. The posters out front announced all sorts of porno films, with women bent over in uncomfortable angles to show off as much as they could without showing too much.
“Great, so you were a local in the upright and mature film circuit,” Shayna signed, rolling her eyes. Well, I knew something that really didn't impress her now.
I smiled, weakly. “It didn't always show those films. That's where I saw my first R-rated movie, a long time ago. Easy Rider. I got in with some friends. All of us were underage, of course. One of my friends then had an older brother who had a friend who worked there. He let us in the back so the rest of the staff didn't know. We were so excited about it, but I think we were set up.”
Shayna smirked, almost grinning. “Set up? Did you guys get busted after all?”
“No,” I said with a frown. “No, it wasn't what I was expecting. We figured that R movies were all boobs, sex, drugs and violence. And those were in the movie, but it was just bizarre. People rolling around and having sex while someone is reciting a prayer. The group of us just sat alone in the theater after the movie, wondering and trying to process what we had just seen.”
She tried to keep it in, but it wasn't long until Shayna started laughing her head off, so hard that I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
“You might think it's funny, but it's true!” I explained. “One of my friends got nightmares from the acid trip!”
“No, no,” Shayna grinned. “I'm trying to imagine a pack of horny little boys sitting around, saying things like 'What the hell just happened?' 'Is that what sex is like?' 'Why is the guy talking to the statue?' 'Is everyone dead?! Did that movie actually happen?'” She said some other potential quotes, but they were lost in the babble of her laughter. I thought I could make out “It was like film class” right before she started calming herself down.
There was no time like the present to complete my point. “Shayna, what got me is that the theater doesn't exist back home. It was torn down in the 1980s.”
Shayna wiped a stray tear from her eye. “So, what you're saying is... you're home?”
I nodded. “In a way, yes. And it's a home that was...”
I didn't know how to explain that. The easy answer was that was a home that was taken away from me by greedy businessmen who plowed under chunks of the city in the search of profit. My own home was one of those pieces that was turned into office buildings and condos without a single thought to its history. By the time I found out and traveled up to the city to try to save it, it had been too late. I also left that home behind me in a blind panic years before, fearful that if I stayed any longer on this planet, that the horrors happening every day would swallow me whole and then my new home after that had to be destroyed in other to save my life and...
“It's a home that's just not there anymore,” Shayna interrupted my train of thought, summing it up better than I ever could.
“Yeah.” I slouched over, rubbing my hand against my forehead. “I don't know what to think about it.”
“Then don't.”
I lifted my head, coming face to face with Shayna standing in front of me, hand stretched out to help me back up.
“Don't think about it. Just keep on living.” This was highly inspired advice from woman who was just barely out of the range of being a child solider and who properly didn't take it fully to heart herself. Taken on a cosmic whole, I knew it was emotionally damaging. I had seen what it could do to her, Arnie, even myself.
The heart of it, though. Not a guiding force to direct every waking moment, but the drive to survive. I couldn't let fear swallow me again, ever. Not even in the face of my past.
Reaching out and grabbing her hand, I pulled myself to my feet. The only way I was going to get back to my family was by pushing through.
Shayna took lead again, stepping out in front. “Reminiscing aside...”
“Yeah, is there a surplus store or booth around?” I asked.
She nodded her head. “A few, down the street and a couple more on Queen. Was there anything you were looking for specifically? ”
“Specifically, we'll need some pens, paper, wax, string and some bottles. We're about to use the most illogical mail system ever!” I proudly declared, feeling secure with myself again.
“Except you don't know anyone here,” Shayna bluntly reminded me. She flashed a curious look at me. I probably looked more insane that I normally did.
“That's not going to effect matters. Not at all.”
This is PART TWO of the fic idea gone crazy. Just broke 10k words, meaning that I think it is the longest fic I've written.
Balancing the Void
Part Two: The Mother Road
Beta:
slwatsonRating: PG, at the moment. The most you'll get are references.
Fandom: IP&S NV/IP&S AMU crossover.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Notes: Off we go into insanity... I researched this sucker, but some small details might be wrong. Most of the things that look out of place are kinda wrong on purpose.
I couldn't sleep my first night.
It wasn't the type of restlessness I was anticipating; the kind where you can't close your eyes because you'd be haunted by images you can't fight back against. I'd suffered from those before, in varying capacities, but I knew now that I could deal with them.
The feeling was more protective than aggressive. Not even in that I wanted to be home so I could be there to fill the void that I left behind; to be that person that they expected me to be on a daily basis. I might not have left their side very often, but I knew that even though they'd miss me and no one could take my place, they could cover each other until I got back.
I just didn't want them to go the extra mile and follow me here.
The tracking device was dead; there was no way for them to figure out where I ended up. Normally, when it worked it would send back a series of mathematical formulas that would give Nance and Mike a rough idea about where I was. If it worked, that is, and the idea was unproven. My knowledge of quantum physics wasn't as deep as I wanted it to be, although I did pass the numbers through some other knowledgeable people next door. If they had caught on, they probably put two and two together and figured out exactly what I was trying to do. We weren't exactly forthcoming with all of the details.
It was an act of desperation, I guess. Not for myself, but for Mike. Nance and Arnie too, by extension. I was Mike's family now, but it didn't start that way. When Nance and I first arrived, the other ShadowKnights formed Mike's emotional backbone. I never really understood it at first, which was my fault. I had Nance to serve as mine and I was her own, so I never looked beyond that.
I was there when we learned they vanished, though. At the time, I was bitter and couldn't separate the part of Mike that pissed me off and the part of him that was hurting, with his family completely gone.
We moved on since then, though. In the passing months, both Mike and Nance had been spirited away to other universes; neither adventure ended particularly well. Arnie wasn't even from our universe originally. I was always behind, guarding our home until they came back. Sometimes, I wondered if I was never forced to leave because I had been the one always ready to run. As if the universe knew that.
Time changed things even more. Mike had managed to start standing up on his own, still loving his missing family but not needing their support under pressure. While the rest of us had become a new sort of family to him, it wasn't the same. It could never be the same, not until they came home.
Someone had to step up and try to fix the void.
I wasn't about to let Mike and Nance suffer again. Arnie was just getting comfortable with the world now. Instead of running away, I ran directly at the problem. I didn't regret doing it; the fact that I landed in Toronto, a place that I knew, was proof enough that there was probably a reason for me being here. I knew this city, at least the one back home. I could make it here, even if I didn't get lucky and land in the lap of the rebels. Even if I wouldn't be able to work on my computer until morning.
I rolled my head to its side, getting a glimpse of Shayna. She still hadn't left my side, worryingly loyal for someone who claimed she was a free thinker.
“Excuse me...” I spoke up. It earned me a glare. Apparently, Shayna hadn't slept either. If there were any truth to her claims, the rebels need her more than they needed me.
I cleared my throat. “Did you want to lay down for a bit?” I asked. The bed was far from perfect, but was miles better than whatever she could get from the chair. It was solid wood, with no padding whatsoever, not even a cushion.
“Hell, no,” Shayna snarled. A simple enough answer.
“Okay, okay,” I raised my hands up in defense. The customs here couldn't have been too different than the ones at home. There, it was normal for someone to offer up his bed, especially to a tired woman. At least, I think she was tired. It was hard to tell.
Shayna frowned and leaned back in the chair. It creaked under her weight; an almost silent sound, just barely hinting at the age of the chair. “I have a duty to carry out. No one, not even you, is going to stop me. Luring me into sleeping is just ridiculous.”
“I wasn't luring you into anything,” I explained, pulling myself up. “There's no way I'm going to sleep tonight, so I figured if you're going to slee--”
I was harshly interrupted by a cruel chuckle. “You have a raid tomorrow. If anyone needs that rest, it's you. Drowsiness? Ends in failed runs.”
“A run that you're taking part in, I assume?” I replied, returning that laugh with smirk. The aggressive edge I noticed earlier appeared to only to be the tip of the conflicts this woman had. I couldn't fight back at the levels she had sunk to, so I battled back with whatever threads of my sense of humour that I could dig up.
Shayna pointed to herself. “I've had enough practice that I could run these things blindfolded.” She pointed to me with equal vigor. “You're a newbie. You make these claims about having talent, but you haven't shown me anything yet. You might get the both of us killed!”
This woman was annoying to get a read on when she was angry. She reminded me of how Nance used to be, but pushed to a greater extreme. One moment, Shayna was challenging me to come on a raid, then a couple of hours later, she was accusing me of not being raid material. I'd be damned if I could figure out what she was trying to say beneath all that. I doubt she even knew herself. The only explanation I could think of is the past few hours gave her time to think things over some more and regret her earlier comments.
“I don't really intend on dying, if that's why you're getting at,” I said and that was the truth. I edged more cautious at times, just out of force of habit, but I never would start a run with the intention to fail. Missions like that can only end badly.
“Die?! Do you have any idea where you are?” There was a flash of something dark, almost manic in Shayna's eyes. It didn't stay long, passing as quickly as it came. “Would you even consider this a life? People die all of the time. Three of my college buddies? Dead. Two came back as bodies after a raid. The third dropped dead right in front of me. Charming way to start a start a night, don't you think? And on top of it, two friends I picked up along the way are missing. That's the end of them. Worse than death, I'd say.”
“Just because they're missing doesn't mean they aren't coming back!” I protested. I tried to force as much of my raw belief into those words. My mission, my reason for even pressing on now depended on me believing that.
“Don't you realize what happens to people who disappear? This is the world you're living in. You were apart of it, for fuck's sake!”
“Wrong Rick!”
The fight suddenly stopped. I grit my teeth, ready to continue on. This exchange was nothing compared to some of the ones I was forced into in the past. Namely, one extended fight that took place over several days at a run-down Days Inn. As brutal as that was, I silently thanked the experience. Shayna had let her guard down. I hadn't.
Shayna stared me down, but no words came out. Taking a deep breath, I finished my thought.
“I am not that Rick. The only reason I'm here is because my family is missing. One of my closest friends' fiancée is in that missing group. He can't just assume that she's not coming back without any proof. I'm missing there too, and they won't assume I'm dead. And I can promise you that if Rick and I swapped locations exactly, he's in good hands, if you're worried about that.”
“Not particularly, no,” Shayna half grumbled as she folded her arms. That was another thing I couldn't quite figure out and I didn't think she had either.
I sighed and sat up. My guess was wrong. Any details I gave her wouldn't comfort her, but it could ease her planning process. “If it means anything to you and whatever raid you have going on, I'm skilled in information retrieval, some basic communications manipulation and uh... guerrilla combat, I guess.”
She rolled her eyes at the comment. “Guerrilla combat. You?”
“Sorta. I don't really take well to prolonged hand-to-hand combat. In most case, I'd be the loser there. But, if I can get the jump on them and distract and confuse them into believing what I want them to, then odds are I'm going to live.”
“Huh.”
She didn't comment or press anymore on that. I couldn't say that I was keen on it either. All I really wanted to do was sleep and maybe wake up back home.
---
I didn't ask when I woke up. The shock of waking up in the first place unnerved me; I think I crashed after the fight, but I couldn't really remember. The night was one big blur of misplaced memories.
Shayna was up, beside me, in the chair. Did that woman ever sleep? Probably she did after I knocked out. Or she knocked me out in order to sleep.
“Raid's canceled tonight. It's back on for tomorrow.” she said in a formal tone, not even bothering with a “Good morning!” I doubt that many of her mornings were good.
I flopped my shoulders back onto the mattress. As simple as that, the concerns I had from the night before suddenly lifted. I wasn't looking forward to the raid, other than it being something I had to do to secure my spot in this world. She didn't spare anymore details. With the raid being pushed off until tomorrow, that bought me enough time to try to get home and have this world's version of me take his proper place.
Reaching over to the table beside my bed, I picked up the little wrist computer. Tapping the buttons even after it had rested for a while didn't help. I got the same reaction as before – nothing. Just a dark screen. Now, Joel and Bonnie, they could have figured out what was wrong at first sight. They probably wouldn't even have to take it apart to know what was broken. Problem was that Joel was heaven only knew where and Bonnie was back home. There was no way to contact them from here.
Wait.
I suddenly sat up, startling my personal guard. She reached for behind her back, had to have been for her dagger. I froze; any sudden movements would trigger a twitch from her. It took her a very long moment, but she slowly managed to relax and let go of the weapon before she pulled it out. Likewise, I managed to breathe again.
Okay, make a note not to make any sudden movements around Shayna.
But, there was a way to reach everyone back home; a bottle, with a note inside, tossed out into the lake. We were able to communicate with the team in Rhy'Din by tossing messages in bottles into the ocean. The great lakes were an inland sea, if my memory was right, and Toronto was just off of Lake Ontario. I could take a juice bottle, stuff a note inside, seal it with wax and float it out to sea. If all universes worked the same way, they'd be able to get it in my home universe. Mike ran down by the shore every other day looking for new bottles. He was bound to find mine. Heck, it would smell like me.
I could include a note explaining that I was alive, the computer problems I was having and remind them not to send Mike or Nance or Arnie in after me for their own safety. Shayna could even include a note for her Rick, although I'd imagine it would probably be full of cursing. It would work out perfectly, as long as I could get the materials.
“Do you know of any place I could pick up some supplies?” I asked Shayna. No details. She'd probably shoot the idea down if I gave any away, at least until I started putting the bottle together. It was honestly a bizarre idea, something out of a story that could never exist in the real world. On the other hand, I had seen it happen. I had nothing to lose.
The woman shrugged. “Most discount and department store chains are monitored by the supermen now. Canadian Tire and places like that, so they can track who's going in there and what they're buying. Apparently, it's to track terrorists. They also only take new bills printed by the supermen, not the old ones. I doubt you have either.”
Ah, so the supermen did control almost everything. I shook my head and pulled out my wallet. There were a mix of bills and coins in there; mostly American cash, some newer Canadian bills from the last trip we took and my secret good luck charm. Maybe it would work for once.
“Not quite,” I explained, yanking out a wad of colourful, folded bills, held together with a rubber band. “I still have some older bills here.” That I only had through sheer luck, I added in my head but didn't say to her. I had saved them from when I launched myself into space. Never had the heart to use them after. They were one of the few pieces of the past I had left.
“I'll take you to the street mall if you're that eager,” Shayna said, not seeming too interested, despite me pulling out cash that was borderline illegal. “They're a bit kinder to rebels. Kinder to anyone, if you have the cash.”
“Street mall?” My breath almost hitched as I said the name; if anything, it drilled home where I was.
Shayna shrugged off my reaction. “Yeah. The one on Yonge. Don't they have that where you're from?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not in years.” I could barely remember the mall, mostly from the stories told at school. Smart ass kids claiming that they got their parents or older siblings to take them down and pick up some issues of Playboy. Of course, when pressured, the kids couldn't make with the proof.
“Well, it's not the cleanest place in the city, but you can find whatever you want there,” Shayna explained as she stood up. She didn't bother offering me a hand for getting out of bed, but it wasn't like I would have any problems doing so.
I brushed myself off as I climbed to my feet. The room I was in wasn't the cleanest place in the city either. “Yeah, but wouldn't the police bust everyone if there were rebels down there?”
That was what happened to the original mall, from what I remembered. A kid was killed and the city clamped down on anything that seemed seedy. In comparison, this universe seems a touch more upbeat, not counting Ottawa being bombed out and the country being occupied and in a state of civil war.
“Nah, it'll make more sense why when we're down there,” Shayna said, this time taking me into consideration as she held the door open for me.
---
The warm spring afternoon was the first time I had been outside since I arrived. The safe house was in the middle of what looked like a well-off community. Not what I was expecting, but Shayna mentioned offhandedly that the rebels did have friends in some high places. Like always, she didn't seem impressed.
“All they want is for the free market to come back and the rebellion is the key to doing it. By day, they just play along with the government on Bay Street. A portion of the money made there gets filtered to us by people in the know, but it's not that much,” she said as we entered the subway station.
Davisville, I knew without Shayna telling me or seeing the sign. I mentioned the name and swore I saw the quickest passing of a smile cross her face.
The station was well kept, probably even cleaner that the ones I was familiar with. Couldn't tell if it was from upkeep or lack of us. It still had that same awkward design with the outdoor platforms, but in the bright sun that didn't matter that much. The breezes that blew through with the passing trains in the yard were refreshing.
I grabbed a system map as we walked to the platform and opened it as we waited for the next train. Shayna was on guard. Wary, but not overly such that she looked out of place. More keenly aware, the type of person you didn't want to tangle with.
The map was odd. The routes weren't the complete ones I was used to; no Sheppard line or Downsview station. Many stops in between, except for the Yonge line we were on now, were grayed out with the label “Limited Service Only” under their names.
“Limited service?” I turned to Shayna to ask her about it as we boarded the train. There were a few people in the car, but it was hard to judge who they were working for.
“Basically means that they don't have to stop there. And they won't a lot. If it's the middle of the night? Forget about it.” Shayna didn't even blink at how strange the explanation was.
“But what about all of the people living by those stations? How do they get around?” I asked.
“They don't.”
For the first time, the truth of Shayna finally dawned on me. I felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner. It wasn't that she was unimpressed or not interested. She was tired. Very tired. And if she wasn't tired, she was angry. The two were one in the same, the different sides of the same coin.
I looked her right in the eyes as she sat in the vinyl and metal seat beside me. “I figured from what you said that you were in university when the war started. But...” I felt like biting my tongue, forgetting that the thought had even occurred to me. Still, I pressed on. “How old are you?”
Shayna frowned and bit her lower lip, staring at the subway car's floor. It took a long silence before she finally spoke up. “I'll be twenty-two this summer.”
And that would explain everything.
The woman that I though she was, wasn't. She carried it well, but in physical age she was just beyond a girl. She was young enough that she could theoretically be my daughter if I was a bit more active in high school. The darkness that she held onto was the result of this war and the battles she fought in it before she had reached full maturity. I couldn't hold that against her either. In her position, I'd do the same.
Or, rather, I'd hope to be brave enough to.
I worried that there wasn't anything that I could say in return. I wanted to offer her a hug, to tell her everything would be alright eventually, but she was twitchy enough with that dagger that I wouldn't want to make her do something she'd regret. I knew that she couldn't tell my actual age or realize just how much difference there was between us. Maybe I'd explain it later, but not in public. It would get us both in a lot of trouble if someone overheard.
Swallowing, I said the only thing I could think of, “I'm sorry.”
She nodded and we continued the ride in silence.
---
We got off at College station. It too was what I remembered it, walls lined with brown tiles and strange hockey murals that didn't make any sense to me. I guess it was an artistic thing.
Shayna wasted no time leading me out of the station. Not that I didn't know my way out, but she wanted to leave in a hurry. As she put it, it was a small, enclosed space, not like Davisville which allowed a couple of routes for escape.
When we got to the surface, via a side exit, we found ourselves at the corner of College and Yonge, surrounded by vendors and people. Even in the crowd, Shayna seemed at ease, not bothered by the huge amount of people at all.
“It's a neutral ground in the war, so nobody likes to cause trouble. Even the police. They'd be overwhelmed,” Shayna said as we started walking south, passing vendors selling a huge range of goods, everything from bootlegged videos to girlie mags to fresh food grown in local backyards. If there was something to sell, you could find someone who would sell it to you.
Mall wasn't the right world for it. It was a giant market, completely out of place with being in the middle of a major street in the downtown. It was like everyone forgot, for a brief moment, where they were. Families out shopping mingled in front of adult movie theaters while a bunch of stoned teens were sitting in the dead centre of the road. At any other time, that would have spelled a shift end, but here the street was closed off to vehicles and filled up with picnic tables.
Overwhelmed by the insanity, I let my head look up, at the downtown skyline. What I saw made me stop in my tracks.
The condos, the symbol of the excess and the change in the downtown were missing. Even the office towers were thinned out, as the building from the mid-nighties and after hadn't been built yet. I looked over my shoulder, taking note of all of the old, out of date and out of fashion looking signs. Stores I knew, now gone.
Shayna must have not noticed. She called my name, sounding like she was some distance ahead. The voice startled me and I spun my head forward, looking for Shayna before the marquee of a theater behind me grabbed my attention. It shouldn't have been there, sending my stomach bottoming out and my body wanting to follow close behind. I staggered a foot forward, catching my balance for only a brief second before someone's strong arms grabbed my shoulders.
My first thoughts were of the police. I'm a stranger in a strange land with no papers acting bizarrely, even if the street mall wasn't supposed to be patrolled by cops. I clenched my fist, ready to swing at my attacker.
“Calm down.”
I knew that forceful voice. There was a edge to it that I hadn't been exposed to before. But it was familiar, and I could relax as long as she was there. I knew that the others would take care of the other me, but until now, I didn't know if the other way was true.
“I need to sit down,” I mumbled into my chest. The sudden weight of where I was hung heavy across my shoulders, making it hard for me to regain my bearings. I didn't know if Shayna replied with a nod, but she guided me over to a nearby bench with disturbing ease without commenting if she was used to doing this before.
I flopped onto the bench and stared at the theater across the street, not quite shaking off its presence and not sure that I wanted to. Shayna sat down behind me, close enough that I could see her out of the corner of my eye.
“Did you see a cop?” Shayna asked. She raised an eyebrow. “Or someone you knew?”
“In a way, you could say that,” I said, leaning back into the bench. I pointed at the movie theater. The posters out front announced all sorts of porno films, with women bent over in uncomfortable angles to show off as much as they could without showing too much.
“Great, so you were a local in the upright and mature film circuit,” Shayna signed, rolling her eyes. Well, I knew something that really didn't impress her now.
I smiled, weakly. “It didn't always show those films. That's where I saw my first R-rated movie, a long time ago. Easy Rider. I got in with some friends. All of us were underage, of course. One of my friends then had an older brother who had a friend who worked there. He let us in the back so the rest of the staff didn't know. We were so excited about it, but I think we were set up.”
Shayna smirked, almost grinning. “Set up? Did you guys get busted after all?”
“No,” I said with a frown. “No, it wasn't what I was expecting. We figured that R movies were all boobs, sex, drugs and violence. And those were in the movie, but it was just bizarre. People rolling around and having sex while someone is reciting a prayer. The group of us just sat alone in the theater after the movie, wondering and trying to process what we had just seen.”
She tried to keep it in, but it wasn't long until Shayna started laughing her head off, so hard that I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
“You might think it's funny, but it's true!” I explained. “One of my friends got nightmares from the acid trip!”
“No, no,” Shayna grinned. “I'm trying to imagine a pack of horny little boys sitting around, saying things like 'What the hell just happened?' 'Is that what sex is like?' 'Why is the guy talking to the statue?' 'Is everyone dead?! Did that movie actually happen?'” She said some other potential quotes, but they were lost in the babble of her laughter. I thought I could make out “It was like film class” right before she started calming herself down.
There was no time like the present to complete my point. “Shayna, what got me is that the theater doesn't exist back home. It was torn down in the 1980s.”
Shayna wiped a stray tear from her eye. “So, what you're saying is... you're home?”
I nodded. “In a way, yes. And it's a home that was...”
I didn't know how to explain that. The easy answer was that was a home that was taken away from me by greedy businessmen who plowed under chunks of the city in the search of profit. My own home was one of those pieces that was turned into office buildings and condos without a single thought to its history. By the time I found out and traveled up to the city to try to save it, it had been too late. I also left that home behind me in a blind panic years before, fearful that if I stayed any longer on this planet, that the horrors happening every day would swallow me whole and then my new home after that had to be destroyed in other to save my life and...
“It's a home that's just not there anymore,” Shayna interrupted my train of thought, summing it up better than I ever could.
“Yeah.” I slouched over, rubbing my hand against my forehead. “I don't know what to think about it.”
“Then don't.”
I lifted my head, coming face to face with Shayna standing in front of me, hand stretched out to help me back up.
“Don't think about it. Just keep on living.” This was highly inspired advice from woman who was just barely out of the range of being a child solider and who properly didn't take it fully to heart herself. Taken on a cosmic whole, I knew it was emotionally damaging. I had seen what it could do to her, Arnie, even myself.
The heart of it, though. Not a guiding force to direct every waking moment, but the drive to survive. I couldn't let fear swallow me again, ever. Not even in the face of my past.
Reaching out and grabbing her hand, I pulled myself to my feet. The only way I was going to get back to my family was by pushing through.
Shayna took lead again, stepping out in front. “Reminiscing aside...”
“Yeah, is there a surplus store or booth around?” I asked.
She nodded her head. “A few, down the street and a couple more on Queen. Was there anything you were looking for specifically? ”
“Specifically, we'll need some pens, paper, wax, string and some bottles. We're about to use the most illogical mail system ever!” I proudly declared, feeling secure with myself again.
“Except you don't know anyone here,” Shayna bluntly reminded me. She flashed a curious look at me. I probably looked more insane that I normally did.
“That's not going to effect matters. Not at all.”
