When I peeked in again, I saw that the center of the library was now a giant crater, and at its base were Asha and Abraxas. He was on his knees, and she had him in a chokehold. I scooped up the dhajat bat and hurried forward.
As I neared, Abraxas slumped. The fires that were his eyes dwindled to the size of candle flames, then went out, and Asha yanked his arms behind his back and bound his wrists with glowing cuffs.
Then she stood, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Ha!” she declared, clapping her hands and raising them before her. “What did I tell you, kid? These hands are formidable things.”
I let out a deep breath, and lowered the bat.
“Thought he was pretty clever,” Asha said, “using my own stun-bulbs against me. Good thing I had them all rigged for one-quarter power…just in case someone ever grabbed one and tried to use it on me.” She prodded him with her toe and said, “Guess you’re not the only sneaky one around here, eh, smart guy?”
She turned back to me, and added, “Still, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to get the drop on him, if you hadn’t distracted him. That was real good thinking.”
“Wow, thanks, Asha. I—”
“Of course,” she said, “you did almost get me killed by jumping between us like that.”
“Oh,” I said glumly. “Yeah.”
She waved a hand. “But don’t worry about it. That was my fault. I should’ve warned you about his disguises. No, overall you did pretty great, I’d say.” She added, “For a five, I mean.”
I grinned.
“So what happens now?” I asked.
A few weeks later all the preparations had been made for my extended vacation. A cab dropped me off in front of Cornelius’s mansion, and I made my way through the house to the library, which had been repaired with some help from Asha’s off-world friends—without anyone around here being the wiser.
Asha stood waiting, beside the purple door.
“You all set?” she asked me.
“Yup,” I said, as I crossed the room.
In my backpack was food, water, and silver, as well as a handgun that Asha had provided, loaded with OF-ten bullets.
She gestured to the door. “You want to do the honors?”
I smiled and stepped forward, and gave the door a push, and it swung aside to reveal a night sky full of massed purple clouds and circling flocks of long-necked birds, and below that soaring peaks beside plunging chasms, and on every precipice a fortress whose windows blazed with yellow light, like jack-o’-lanterns. The night air that blew in past us was pleasantly brisk, and smelled of rich earth and sweet flowers.
I paused to admire the view, even if this world was only a six.
“Let’s get a move on,” Asha said, as she stepped through the door. “No time to waste gawking at second-rate realities. We’ve got a full itinerary ahead of us. Nines and tens all the way.”
I took one last look around the library, at my home world, in all its modest five-ness, then moved to follow her.
“Come on, kid,” she told me. “Let me show you what a real world looks like.”
DEAR ANNABEHLS
MERCURIO D. RIVERA
Nominated for the 2011 World Fantasy Award for his short fiction, Mercurio D. Rivera’s stories can be found in venues such as Asimov’s Science Fiction, Interzone, Nature, Black Static, Sybil’s Garage, Murky Depths, and Year’s Best Science Fiction 17, edited by Hartwell & Cramer (HarperCollins). His fiction has been podcast at Escape Pod, StarShipSofa, and Transmissions From Beyond, and translated and reprinted in the Czech Republic and Poland. He is a lawyer, a sports enthusiast, and a proud member of the acclaimed Manhattan writing group Altered Fluid (www.alteredfluid.com). “Dear Annabehls” is set in the same universe as his story “Snatch Me Another,” which can be read at online magazine Abyss & Apex.
Dear Annabehclass="underline"
I’m concerned about the inordinate amount of time that my 13-year-old son “Jeff” spends with himself. A boy his age should be out and about, playing with friends, participating in sports and other after-school activities. I come from a very traditional family, and I have to confess that I’m concerned that this behavior suggests that Jeff may be gay.
My husband thinks I’m overreacting. What do you think?
Concerned Tuscaloosa Mom
Dear Concerned:
Generally, a boy Jeff’s age spending time with himself is perfectly normal. The question I would pose is: How many of his selves does he spend time with? Attachment to any particular self might prove to be unhealthy. If your son’s behavior persists for more than a few weeks, you need to revoke his Snatcher privileges and take him in for some psiprobing. If it’s of any comfort, this sounds more like classic narcissism than homosexuality. However, should your son be gay, you need to learn to love him for who he is. Alternatively, search for a heterosexual replacement. I recommend that you swallow two Validums, and pick up the recently published Bonds Between Multiple Me’s by Dr. Gregory Byars for an excellent discussion of this subject.
Dear Annabehclass="underline"
I’m going through the most difficult period of my life. I caught my husband Robbie cheating on me. The thing is, he’s cheating on me—with me. He insists that as long as the person he’s sleeping with is me, he isn’t technically cheating. That’s BS! I say that he exchanged his vows with me, not with skinnier, stringy-haired, slutty versions of me. He’s being immoral and unfaithful, isn’t he, Annabehl? I just don’t get it. What does he see in other me’s that he doesn’t see in me? I’m hurt, lonely and frustrated.
Dora/Memphis, TN
Dear Dora:
Take a deep breath and a Xantax, dear. It’s all a matter of perspective. That Robbie chooses to spend his time away from you with you is actually quite romantic. In fact, one might say he’s exceedingly faithful and truly devoted. You should be flattered as heck. What strikes me as odd is that while Robbie is off enjoying you, you’re “lonely and frustrated.” Get up off your derriere, girl, and kwitcherwhining! You should be spending time with other Robbies. You’ll find that doing so will strengthen your marriage and make both of you much happier in the long run.
Dear Annabehclass="underline"
We lost our son Tommy to an inoperable brain tumor, just a few days before his sixth birthday. My wife got it into her head that we should go forward with the birthday party with another version of Tommy as a way to say our final goodbyes. We set the Snatcher to a high-end frequency and nabbed another Tommy, who was none the wiser about his displacement. Well, you guessed it. The birthday party came and went and now “Tommy” is still with us. What about “Tommy’s” real parents? They must be going through hell. And what about our Tommy? Doesn’t he deserve to be mourned?
Whenever I raise this issue with my wife, she gets angry and changes the subject. She pretends that nothing ever happened. I know I should love the new Tommy, but all I feel is numb. What should I do?
L.P./Chicago, Illinois
Dear L.P.:
I strongly recommend professional psiprobing so you can learn to accept Tommy’s variant as part of your family. Your emotional confusion is understandable, sweetie. Many people who suffer a loss like yours find it difficult to accept a replacement. But your wife is behaving no differently than any mother would in her situation. Be sure to have Tommy routinely checked for the condition that caused his initial passing. It may become necessary to get yourselves another replacement. Good luck to you.