“Tell me again what you said on the phone.”
“Because you don’t believe it?” I asked.
“That’s right. I don’t believe it, because it’s impossible.”
“Think that if you want, but there are two of me. Two Dylan Morans in the same world, sharing the same space. You brought him here.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he used your safe word to get away. Infinite.”
“My treatment couldn’t possibly make that happen.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think your therapy opened the door, and somehow another Dylan Moran walked through it. He’s a killer. The police showed me photographs of the women he killed. Four of them — all of them look just like Karly. Now he’s gone somewhere else to do it again.”
She reached out her long arm to stroke my hair, invading my personal space as if I were a pet. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe it’s all you.”
“I’m not a killer. I’m many things, but I’m not that. Not in this world.”
Eve took away her hand and looked off at the lake again. “If you’re right about this, the implications are... disturbing.”
“Why are you surprised? You said the whole point of this therapy was to create a bridge to other worlds.”
“Yes, of course, but what you’re talking about—”
“I’m talking about a Dylan Moran who is dangerous. Eve, you said that I came to you for treatment. If the Many Worlds theory is right, there are endless other Dylans going to you for the same treatment in other worlds. Imagine that this doppelgänger — this violent Dylan — became aware of what was happening. He interacted with one of your patients and followed him into a completely new world. Into a hunting ground. He could kill without worrying about getting caught, because all the evidence would point to the Dylan who really lived in that world. And he had an escape hatch whenever he wanted to leave. You. He’s been using you to come and go, Eve. Who knows how many times he’s already done this and in how many different worlds? It’s the perfect crime.”
Eve frowned. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“Follow him and stop him before he kills anyone else.”
“Into the Many Worlds?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head firmly. “You can’t. The rules say that even if you find him, all the choices come into play. That means you can never stop him. There will always be a world where he gets away.”
“Maybe, but the rules also say you can’t jump between timelines. He’s breaking the rules. For all we know, he’s the only Dylan who has figured out how to do that.”
“What if he stops you? What if you don’t make it back?”
I stared at the city around me. My city. My home. “I’m done here, Eve. There’s nothing for me anymore. Roscoe is gone. Karly is gone. When the police catch up to me, I’ll spend the rest of my life in prison. It doesn’t matter whether I come back.”
“This won’t work,” Eve insisted. “You can’t actually cross over to these worlds.”
“Well, if I don’t try it, some other Dylan will, right? You said that every choice comes into play. So it might as well be me. Did you bring the drugs?”
Eve glanced around the pier to make sure the two of us were alone. She reached into her handbag and extracted a small vial of clear liquid and a hypodermic needle. “This is what I use.”
“How does this work?”
“Once I inject you, I guide you into the Many Worlds with hypnotic suggestion. You won’t be aware of it happening.”
“What are you giving me?”
“It’s a cocktail of hallucinogens. I’ve been experimenting with the mix since college to find a balance that makes the brain most susceptible to alternate realities. That’s the key, you see. We all grow up convinced that we know what reality is, and the only way to cross over is to break down that certainty. To open the mind to completely new possibilities.”
“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” I said.
Eve gave me a tight smile. “In a way.”
“What will it be like?”
“The first time can be overwhelming,” she warned me. “Whatever it is you see with your eyes, what you’re really doing is going to the inner depths of your brain. Like you’re at a kind of Grand Central Station, where the various versions of yourself cross paths. I don’t know what you’ll see, but the sensory overload may well be too much for you. If it is, you know the safe word to get out.”
“Infinite.”
“That’s right. If you say the word, it should break you out of wherever you are and end the session.”
“And take me right back here?” I asked.
“It will take you somewhere. Beyond that, I don’t know. I’ve always assumed that the Dylan I sent out into the void was the same Dylan who came back to me. But now I don’t know if that’s true. For all I know, some other Dylan will end up here on the bench with me in a few seconds. I won’t be aware of it. And nothing else will seem to have changed.”
“I hate to think that I’d be handing my bad choices to someone else,” I said with a smile.
Eve’s face turned severe. “Don’t joke. You act like this situation can’t get worse for you, Dylan. It can. It can get much worse. And remember, wherever you go, another Dylan is already there. It’s his life, not yours.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you should remember what I said before. You might find yourself tempted to stay. You might want to kill that other version of yourself and take over his world.”
“I’m not a killer,” I insisted again.
“Are you sure?”
I didn’t answer her. I stared at the sun, getting higher over the water. The city was coming to life. Soon people would be coming down the pier. Impatiently, I rolled up my sleeve. “Let’s get on with it.”
Eve readied the needle. She drew in the liquid from the vial and tapped the hypodermic with one of her fingernails. She slid closer to me on the bench and took hold of my wrist, pushing on the seam of my arm to find the vein. When she found it, she put the metal point against my skin.
“Last chance,” she said.
“Do it.”
I felt the puncture like the prick of a bee sting. She pushed the plunger down.
For a brief moment, the world stayed the same. Nothing happened. I was Dylan Moran, I was on Navy Pier, I was sitting on a bench with Dr. Eve Brier. A part of me was gripped by hesitation, wanting to hold on to this world, but it was too late to stop. My bloodstream carried the drug throughout my body, and it washed over me like a wave rolling across sand. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I wasn’t on the pier anymore. Wherever I was traveling, I was far away.
I heard a chorus, like a billion whispers, each one soft, but together so loud that I wanted to clap my hands over my ears. I saw nothing at first. Whiteness. Blackness. Then something took shape in front of me. Something physical. Something familiar. I saw a diner on a clean city street. It was late, and I could see bright lights through the window. A man sat alone at the counter, a lonely urban stranger. Suit. Fedora. His back was to me. Near him, but not with him, were two others, a man and a woman. He was in a suit like the first man. She had red hair and a red dress.
This wasn’t real.
This was a painting that I’d seen thousands of times before.
I was in the Art Institute, staring at Nighthawks.