Play Dead (16 page)
I didn’t entirely disagree with him, but Victor was having none of it. He made Warren stop, but for some reason Warren decided I was the one pushing the issue. He didn’t like me much.
“I see you two know each other,” Jessie said.
She didn’t introduce the others, which was a rather old-school form of etiquette among some practitioners, a throw-back to the days when people believed that knowledge of names conferred power. If they wanted to introduce themselves, they would. They didn’t.
I poured my porter into the glass and watched approvingly as it developed a creamy head.
“So,” I said brightly. “The conspirators assemble.”
Warren started to say something, but Jessie raised her hand. “Not so far off, actually, except that we’re out in the open. And we’re conspiring to change practitioner culture, by logic and reason.”
“In what way?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure you already know. Practitioners have been in the closet for years. We hide in plain sight, and we make sure that ordinaries don’t know about us. It’s been that way forever, and everyone accepts it’s the way things have to be. But have you ever really thought about it? Haven’t you ever wondered what the point of all this secrecy is?”
“Occasionally,” I admitted.
“Well, at least there’s that. A couple of things to consider : One, if anyone found out about us, chaos would result. Demonstrably false. Every one of us knows someone who is not a practitioner, yet who knows everything about us, yes?”
Timothy immediately sprang to mind. I knew a few others who didn’t have the whole picture, but did know at least a little about us.
“That’s true.”
“And has society collapsed?”
“That’s different,” I said. “A few trusted friends aren’t the same as the world at large. People would freak out.”
“Are you sure?”
“We wouldn’t just spring it on the world, all at once,” said the middle-aged woman. “It would have to be gradual, of course, get people used to the idea over time.”
“What would be the point?” I asked. “It’s not like things are terrible—in fact, the whole setup has worked pretty well, for centuries.”
“Well,” said Jessie, “for one thing, we could do a lot of good. You may have noticed that society in general hasn’t had a great history. We could help to change that.”
The bald practitioner weighed in. “And to be honest,” he said, “our talents would be in demand. Maybe you’re satisfied to live hand to mouth, but I’m getting a little tired of it.”
There it was. Money. At least he was honest about it.
Warren couldn’t help but chime in. “Come on, Mason. You’ve got to be sick of Victor telling you what you can and can’t do. Who is he to make decisions for everyone?”
Jessica was watching me closely. This was the crucial moment; I had to sell her on the idea that I could indeed be flipped, and she was no fool. A misstep would blow it.
I looked off into the distance, as if remembering ancient grudges. I let my head nod slightly, as if in agreement, then gave a little shake and returned to the present.
“Sorry,” I said, reluctantly. “I just don’t see it.”
Jessie smiled enigmatically. I might not be buying into it, but she had bought into my act. She thought she almost had me.
“Well, think about it,” she said.
I shook my head. “It’s all academic anyway. Victor and those like him aren’t tyrants. They just fulfill a need. If practitioner society didn’t want him doing what he does, he’d be out of a job.”
“Exactly. I’m not some evil black practitioner out to overthrow the order of things. I’m just going to convince people to see things my way. Democracy in action. What’s wrong with that?”
I let an expression of uncertainty flash across my face. Then I dismissed it and stood up.
“Nice talking to you,” I said. “But politics bores me. Besides, I’ve got work to do.”
I hated to leave my beer unfinished again, but you can’t utter an exit line and then linger. I was well satisfied with my performance. Jessie believed she had me on the hook, and the next time we talked I’d let her push me a little further. I still didn’t know what she was up to, but it wasn’t about building a grassroots consensus. That much I was sure of.
FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS I PUT IN SOME TIME searching for Jackie, but it was a brick wall. I was just spinning my wheels. I prowled the streets with Lou, looking for her, but she’d either finally left town or was holed up where I couldn’t find her. I also kept an eye out for whatever had followed me out of that singularity. I even went out a couple of times late at night, hoping to lure it into showing itself if it had bad intentions. But there wasn’t a trace of it. I was beginning to think I’d imagined it until I remembered Lou and Rolf had seen it, too.
But now that I was looking for it, I did notice all kinds of small anomalies, signs that Jessie had been telling the truth. Squirrels that Lou didn’t want to chase, squirrels that looked more ratlike than squirrel-like. The occasional brightly colored bird that seemed out of place. A procession of centipedes scuttling down a gutter, nose to tail, hundreds of them. Minor things, all, but out of place and disturbing.
I’d just about decided to pack it in and kick back for a while when the late-night knock at my door came. Lou bounded up from his spot on the bed, instantly alert. No growl; he wasn’t disturbed, but it wasn’t a random friend dropping by for a visit, either.
I’m pretty secure in my own house, so I opened the door. Two people stood there; I didn’t recognize one of them but I sure did the other.
Jackie.
NINE
“MAY WE COME IN?” SHE ASKED.
I stepped back and motioned her inside. The person with her was unremarkable and rather unprepossessing—short, heavy, round-faced, thinning sandy hair, big ears that stuck out comically. He’d grown the type of little mustache people sometimes do when they’re trying to add character to an otherwise undistinguished face. His eyes gleamed a pale watery blue, and his shoulders slumped as if he were afraid a stranger might lash out at him at any moment. A more inoffensive-looking man I’d never seen. I immediately marked him as someone to watch very carefully.
“Coffee?” I asked, as if they were casual friends just dropping by for a visit.
“No, thank you,” Jackie said politely. Her companion held out his hand.
“I’m Malcolm.”
From his looks I expected his palm would be damp and sweaty, but it was warm and dry. He might look like a nervous Nellie type, but his skin told a different story. And in more ways than one. A series of intricately designed tattoos peeked out of his sleeve, coming all the way down to his wrist. I recognized several runes there that I’d seen black practitioners use in the past. He looked like a good candidate for the one who’d helped Jackie with the dead-body illusion, and yet I felt not a trace of talent coming from him. Was he shielding? I couldn’t imagine what the point would be if he was.
“You’ve been looking for me,” Jackie said.
“True. But if I’d known you’d be dropping by, I wouldn’t have wasted the effort.”
“I suppose my mom told you I’ve done all kinds of dreadful things?”
“Your mom?” I had no idea what she was talking about.
“You didn’t know?” She laughed, delighted, and then I got it.
“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t. But she’s . . .”
“White? My dad was a black practitioner, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“I was about to say too young. Just how old is she, anyway?”
Jackie laughed again. “I had no idea you were so naïve. Let’s just say she’s older than she looks.”
I felt foolish. Now things started to fell into place. Jessie had naturally trusted Jackie; she was her daughter, after all. She must have experienced an incredible sense of betrayal. And she’d be worried not just that Jackie’s inexperience and willfulness would cause trouble, but that it would be dangerous to her daughter as well. A typical family dynamic, now so obvious.
“Well, whatever,” I said, struggling to regain control of the conversation. “But you did take something from her, didn’t you? And she wants it back.”
“Well, yes, but it wasn’t really my fault. She wouldn’t let me even see it. So I took it. And she doesn’t just want back what I took; she wants
me
back as well. She’s afraid I’ll do something dangerous.”
me
back as well. She’s afraid I’ll do something dangerous.”
“Like creating a singularity?”
Jackie smiled, almost beaming. “Impressive, wasn’t it? I tried to throw you off the trail first at that hotel, and when that didn’t work, I tried to get you out of the way for an extended time.”
“Kind of drastic, don’t you think? I might never have gotten out of there.”
“Oh, it would have dissolved after a while. A couple of months at most.” Jackie was still at an age where losing a couple of months wasn’t that big a deal. “Besides,” she said, “I knew he would get you out eventually.” She pointed at the corner of the room.
“Lou?”
“Sure. He’s kind of famous, you know.”
Lou looked at her, then at me, then stretched, elaborately. This was just what I needed: Lou with a swelled head.
Malcolm had been quiet up to now, looking at us both with a sort of bemused interest. But now he nodded. “That’s why we’re here, actually.”
Jackie took me by the arm and looked at me earnestly. “I knew you’d find me sooner or later. I’ve been hunkered down in a shielded house, afraid to go out, but I couldn’t stay there forever. Then Malcolm found me.” She jerked her head in his direction.
“If the house was shielded, how did he manage that?” I asked.
“He’s clever. But that’s beside the point. He’d noticed the singularity, and such things are kind of a passion of his, so he found me. He wanted to know how I’d done it.”
“You had Richter’s book to help you. That’s how you managed it, right?”
“So my mom finally told you about that, did she?”
“She did. It’s a big deal, apparently.”
“Indeed it is,” said Malcolm. “You saw what Jackie could do with its help. And with my expertise and assistance, there’s no limit to what we might accomplish.”
“That’s great,” I said. “But who are you, anyway? And why are you here? What does any of this have to do with me?”
Jackie interrupted. “Malcolm’s a friend,” she said, which was no answer at all. “As to why we’re here, first of all, I want to convince you to leave me alone. Second, I need your help, too.”
Great. It looked like everybody wanted me on board these days. It would have been an ego boost if I had any idea why. Malcolm chimed in.
“And third, it’s not so much you as it is about Lou here.”
“Of course,” I said. Lou had been quite in demand these last few years, and now his already swelled head was going to grow even larger. Malcolm pulled out a chair and gestured.
“May I?” He delicately seated himself at the kitchen table.
“I’ve made quite a study of singularities. With what I already know, Jackie’s help, and Richter’s manual, I’m now fairly certain we could create a singularity so complex it would be indistinguishable from an actual world. Plants, flowers, buildings, and three-dimensional people—even a real society, with its own history. All identical to the real thing. For all I know it might actually be the real thing—at a certain level of complexity, things take on an independent existence.”
Not a chance, I thought. Malcolm was suffering from a god complex.
“That would be quite the feat,” I said. “But what would be the point?”
“A test. If we can accomplish that, we’ll be ready for the next step.”
“Which is?”
“That will be made clear later on. But the thing is, the only way to test this would be for the two of us to enter the creation, to actually go there. That’s no problem, but I’m not so comfortable about navigating a way out once we’re there. Accessing it is one thing. Getting back might be a different matter.”
I caught on. “I see. And you believe Lou could help you get back.”
“Yes.”
“Even if he could, he’s not about to go off with you.”
“Oh, I’m aware of that. That’s why we want you to come along.”
“Hmm. Assuming for the moment you could accomplish such a thing, why would I want to go there with you?”
Malcolm looked genuinely baffled.
“Why, it’s the chance of a lifetime,” he said. “A whole new world? Who wouldn’t want to explore such a thing? Think of what you might learn, what wonders you might see there.”
“I think you’ve got me confused with Eli.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. But just to be clear, are you talking about making a construct of your own or about creating a gateway to an actual dimension?”
“An interesting philosophical question. But difficult to answer. It’s not always a case of one or the other.”
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