“My first customers of the day. I am Alexei. What can I get you?”
Maddock noted a slight Russian accent to the man’s speech. Unusual for this part of the country.
“Dos cervezas, por favor.” Bones held up two fingers. “Dos Equis if you’ve got it.”
Alexei frowned. “I don’t know this beer.”
“That’s cool. Just give us two of the best beers you’ve got.”
The man smiled and handed them two bottles labeled Tinkoff Golden. Bones tipped him generously and clinked bottles with Maddock. “To discovery.”
“Discovery,” Maddock agreed. He took a long drink, taking the time to savor the light, tangy flavor. He nodded approvingly and took another drink. “Not bad.”
They finished their drinks quickly and Bones called out to the bartender. “Yo, Axel. Another round.”
“Alexei,” the man corrected though he smiled to show no offense was taken.
“Who’s your pick to win the Superbowl this year?” Bones asked, trying to make conversation.
Alexei tilted his head. “You mean the Soccerbowl?”
“What? No, dude. The Superbowl. Football.”
“Football and soccer are the same.” Alexei picked up a greasy rag and began wiping the counter. “Or do you mean gridiron?” Bones nodded and Alexei grimaced. “Nasty, violent sport. I didn’t think they played it anymore.”
Bones made a confused face but continued to make small talk with Alexei. Meanwhile, Maddock turned his attention to the television, where the reporter was saying, “Today the American Politburo sent a strongly-worded message to Moscow, warning the Premier that America will not be treated as a lesser member of the Soviet Union.”
Maddock almost spilled his beer. Bones had heard too.
“Are we on a hidden camera show?” Bones looked all around.
“I don’t understand your jokes,” Alexei said, “but I like you all the same.”
“You’re pretty cool too,” Bones said. “Say, who’s the president nowadays?”
Alexei cocked his head. “How do you not know that?”
“I can’t really talk about it. Let’s just say I’ve been out of circulation for a while.”
“No television in prison?” Alexei grinned. “The president is Vladimir Putin.”
“I meant the President of the United States.”
Alexei laughed. “Now I think I am the one on hidden camera. There has been no president since the war. The American Politburo governs but reports to Moscow, just like all countries in the Soviet Union.”
Maddock’s head swam and he felt as though his tether to reality was slipping. He took a closer look at their surroundings, truly taking in all the details. Everything was Russian — posters of soccer and hockey teams and framed photographs of Soviet premiers dominated the walls.
Alexei walked away, shaking his head, and Maddock looked at Bones.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Bones stared at him, and then he closed his eyes and let out a groan. “I did it.” He buried his face in his hands. “I took the duality stone. It’s in my pack. I don’t know why I did it. It was like the stone wanted to be taken.”
Maddock was surprised at what Bones had done, but that wasn’t his primary concern at the moment. “Why should that matter?” he asked.
Bones sighed. “According to legend, the duality stone holds the worlds together.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not quite right. More like, it tethers the different versions of the world.”
“Different versions?”
“You know, like alternate timelines. I know it sounds nuts, but I think it’s taken us to a timeline where the Russians won the Cold War.”
Maddock looked at the label on his beer and considered what Bones said. Unless they were both experiencing the same hallucination, nothing else made sense. “Maybe we’re dreaming,” he said lamely.
A sharp pain blossomed in his shoulder. Bones had punched him. “What the hell?”
“Does that feel like a dream?” Bones asked.
“I don’t know. Does this?” He returned the favor and Bones winced.
“Okay. We can rule out dreaming.”
Alexei, who was polishing the end of the counter, scowled at them. “You fight outside. Not here.”
Maddock was about to apologize when his phone vibrated. He looked at it and his jaw dropped.
“You all right, bro? You’re pale as a… well, as a you.”
“I just got a text. From Melissa.”
Bones looked poleaxed. “That can’t be right.”
Melissa was Maddock’s wife who had died years before.
“If we’re in an alternate timeline, maybe she’s…” Maddock couldn’t say it aloud. Holding his phone in a trembling hand, he read the message aloud.
Hope you can come home soon. We miss you.
“We,” he whispered. “Melissa was pregnant when she died. Maybe…”
“Don’t do this to yourself, Maddock.” Bones said.
Maddock scarcely heard him. He was scrolling through his contact list. He saw familiar names: Bones, Willis Sanders, Pete “Professor” Chapman, and Jimmy Letson.
But he also saw names that hadn’t been there before: Hartford Maxwell, their old commander who had been murdered by the Dominion. Franklin Meriwether, a beloved officer who’d died in the Holy Land, and then he gasped.
“Mom and Dad,” he breathed. “Bones, look at this! My parents are still alive, and Maxie and Meriwether.”
Bones snatched the phone away and scrolled through the list, his brow furrowing deeper as he read. “This is not good.”
“What do you mean? Melissa, my parents! Bones, I need to go home.”
“Just chill for a second. Listen, we don’t belong here. Right now, some alternate Maddock is probably driving home from his job selling insurance, and I’m sure there’s another version of Bones who’s getting busy with a Russian tennis player. But they’re not us and we aren’t them.”
“How do you know? Maybe the alternate version of us are on a climbing trip in Utah. Maybe we’ve taken their places.”
“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t our world. Look at this.” Bones turned Maddock’s phone around so he could see the display. “Yeah, there are some new names here, but you know what? There are some missing too. Matt and Corey aren’t here. That means we don’t have a crew. There’s no Kaylin Maxwell, no Jade, no Tam Broderick. All those mysteries we solved? All we did to fight the Dominion? Never happened. Not here. And there’s another important name missing.”
They exchanged a level look and Maddock felt his resistance crumbling. He knew precisely who Bones meant. Pain stabbed at his heart. How could he have wanted to stay here, but how could he want to leave?
“Besides, do you really want to live here, under Soviet rule?”
Maddock shook his head. “I suppose not.”
Just then, the phone vibrated again. Bones glanced at it and his eyes went wide.
“What is it?”
Bones shook his head. “You’re better off not knowing. Trust me.”
“Give it to me.” Maddock spoke slowly, pronouncing each syllable in a tone that said he would brook no nonsense. Reluctantly, Bones handed it over.
Melissa had texted him again. This time she’d sent a photograph. There she was, her smile and her big brown eyes were just as he remembered. But it was the little boy, a blue-eyed blond who sat on her knee that captivated him. It was his son.
“He looks just like you,” Bones said.
Maddock’s throat was tight and he only managed a single nod. He felt as if his heart were being torn into a million pieces. It was more than he could take. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. When he could finally speak, his voice was husky.