ECHOWORLD
“So…you bond the nuclei together and…” Wren muttered under her breath as she
peered into the microscope. “Aha.” Turning her attention from the microscope,
she jotted something down on her notepad. The intercom buzzed.
She sighed and raked her fingers through her long auburn hair, then
pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Wren, the Wolf wants to see you.” Nina’s high-pitched voice
carried clearly over the connection.
Wren felt her stomach drop. The Wolf, Mr. Wolfe, was the president
and executive of the company, and an ill-tempered one at that. Being called to
his office was akin to being sent to a verbal firing squad. Most people who
went in there lost their jobs. “Why?”
“I don’t know, hun, but I’d hurry if I were you. He’s no feelin’
too cheerful.”
“All right. Thanks, Nina.”
“Mm-hm.”
Wren carefully moved her newest experiment to a far corner of her
desk. Gotta love stainless steel technology, she thought wryly.
She stood, knees popping, and straightened her skirt unnecessarily.
She kept her head down, as if in deep though, during her short trip to the
Wolf’s Den. She didn’t need idle conversation right now.
The carpet beneath her dress shoes was thick and forest-green. Wren
followed the well-traveled path, not glancing up at the cubicles and
laboratories that she passed. She stopped when she reached the heavy mahogany
door with the brass doorknob. Taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer to
the good spirits, she opened the door.
“…next week. Good.” The Wolf hung up the phone and concentrated
his icy blue eyes on Wren. “Well, come in girl. I haven’t got all day.”
Wren did as she was told and watched the man for any signs that
she’d get to keep her job.
The sun glistened through the windows and off the Wolf’s shiny bald
head as he spoke. “As you know, Tritech is my dreams come to life.” Wren
nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “And as you probably know, dreams,
like everything else, sicken and die.” Oh, great. “Wren, we’re going to have
to start letting some of our underlings go. And I’m afraid you’re one of them.”
“Underlings!” she cried out furiously. “I’m not one of the
underlings.” She composed herself, but barely. “Sir, if you will recall, I
was one of the leaders of the Heisenberg Project.” The Wolf began writing on a
pad, seemingly ignoring Wren. “Yes, well. Life’s not fair. And you are my
youngest employee. I can’t very well let Aaron go, now can I? He’s too old to
find another job, and he has a family to support.” He looked up. “Wren, I’m
sorry. I really am.” His eyes said otherwise, as he returned to his paperwork,
businesslike once again. “I expect you to have your work area cleaned out by
the end of the day.”
Wren stared at the man in disbelief. Because she was the
youngest employee? What kind of excuse was that? She rose, thanked him
graciously, and left his office, slamming the door on her way out.
Shaun lay on the couch of his apartment, staring at the ceiling. He
wore his loose black work pants and shoes and no shirt. His brown hair was
spiked. The television was on, relaying the day’s news to his unheeding ears.
“The town of
“Great. That woman is crazy.” He ambled into the kitchen, still
talking to himself. “I haven’t had a job in awhile. And normally, that’s
okay,” he told the milk carton as he poured himself a glass of milk. “But with
Lady Wren destroying everything…I don’t know.” He replaced the milk in
his refrigerator and returned to his seat on the couch. “My last six jobs have
been really hectic. But successful,” he added. “Lyrea shouldn’t mind too
much if I should take a little beak. ‘Little’ being a very relative
term, of course.” He grinned and shook his head in amusement as he gulped down
the last of the milk. “Cookies, I think.”
He stood again and, once in the small kitchen, grabbed the entire
box of cookies from the table. He popped a few into his mouth as he continued
his conversation with himself. “I only want to go to get away from this
craziness. I’m sure Eric will transport me…if I promise to bring him a pretty
girl from the Echoworld,” he reasoned. “Which world, though? I’m
thinking…Delta. Not too similar to here, but not completely insane.” He
nodded in determination. “Good. Then I go…after I finish the cookies.” He
closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously. “Whoa, I definitely need a
break. I’m talking to myself again.”
The box of cookies remained silent, in obvious agreement.
“Hey, Shaun.” Wren glumly greeted the bartender at her usual
tavern.
“Hey, kid. What’s the matter?” Shaun asked as he towel-dried a beer
mug. His long brown hair hung in his eyes, but he ignored it.
Wren sighed. “I’m out of a job.”
Shaun nodded and put the mug away. He then grabbed a glass and
filled it with soda and a bit of bourbon. He turned and handed the drink to
Wren, who had her head on her arms on the table. “Here. It’s on the house.”
He pulled up a stool and sat across from her. “Now talk. Explain what
happened.”
Wren just shook her head and sipped her drink. “It’s nothing. Just
stupid stuff.”
“C’mon, kid. It’s not stupid; you wouldn’t look so unhappy if it
were.”
She gave him a small smile and said, “It’s all right. I’m fine.
And what’s with this ‘kid’ business? You’re not more than three years older
than me.”
He grinned. “Ah, but those three years are full of wisdom that you
have yet to gain.”
“Wisdom, huh? Apparently those years of wisdom were wasted,” she
joked.
He laughed. “Back to your old caustic self.” With that, he turned
to another patron.
Wren smiled and finished her drink. She could always count on Shaun
to cheer her up. The small bar was getting crowded, so she left, taking a back
exit to avoid the usual catcalls.
The back door led to a short alleyway, with a dumpster at one end
and a street at the other. A streetlight lit up part of the alley, bathing it
in a weak yellow light.
She headed towards the street end of the alley, with her hands in
the pockets of her loose-fitting black pants, and her head low in thought. Home
was not far, and she yearned to be eating a tub of ice cream and watching a
movie. While she was thinking of home, there was a shock in the air behind
her. She stumbled from the force of it. Gaining her balance, she spun around.
“What the –?”
In front of the dumpster, there was a large absence of light.
That’s the only way to describe it. And out of this hole stepped a man dressed
in all black. He had spiky dark hair and a sheathed sword hung on his back. He
spoke to his wrist, no, to a device on his wrist. “All right, Eric. Sierra
Bravo over and out.”
He looked up and jumped on seeing he wasn’t alone.
Wren watched him, confused. “What was that?” she asked
bluntly.
The man shrugged. “What was what?”
“That! The hole you just stepped out of!” she nearly shouted,
pointing.
He glanced behind him and then back to her. “I don’t know how much
you’ve had to drink, but there’s nothing there. I just came out here to take a
leak.”
Wren just stared at him. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Are you on your way home?” he asked.
She shook her head, scattering her thoughts. Her eyes were playing
tricks on her. No wonder; she’d been awake since the morning before working on
her current project. The weariness was beginning to wear off; a second wind, if
you will. “Um…what?”
“Well, I figure I have nothing better to do, so why not walk you
home?”
She eyed him warily. “All right.” She fingered the long curved
knife that was sheathed at her hip.
He nodded and they began waking down the street. The sun was
setting at their backs, giving a warm orange glow to everything. Their long
shadows preceded them as they walked together wordlessly.
“So.” Wren couldn’t stand the silence. “Do you have a name?”
“I do.”
“Care to share?”
“Shaun.”
Wren looked at him casually. The faces were very similar…
“You all right?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He looked unconvinced. “All right.”
“What about a last name?”
“Ballou.”
She glared at him. “You lie.”
“No, I don’t.”
They reached a streetlight and she stopped and peered up at him.
“Is this some sort of joke?”
“No.”
“Look, Shaun, or whatever your name is, I’m not in the mood.
It’s been a long day. Stop this stupid game.”
He grabbed her upper arm. “No. I need to explain something to
you. You know another Shaun Ballou, don’t you?”
“What’s it to you? Let me go. Final warning.” She reached for her
knife, but Shaun got there first.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He took the knife from her plain
leather sheath and held it to her throat. “I don’t want to get violent. You
need to understand. So do you know me?”
Wren rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you are Shaun Ballou, Shaun
Matthew Ballou nonetheless, then you’re 21 years old, you’re my friend from
half-school, you’re my bartender. Enough information?”
Shaun pushed her away from him, still holding the knife. “Damn.
Not an hour in and already in overtime,” he muttered to himself.
“I’m sick of this game. Give me my damn knife.”
He ignored her and continued walking as if he’d never stopped.
Wren caught up and looked at him. “Well, I was right. You’re
not Shaun. So who are you?”
“Oh, no, I’m Shaun. Just not the Shaun you’re familiar with.”
They’d reached her apartment complex. Wren began climbing the rusty
outdoor starts that led to her apartment. Shaun followed her closely. Halfway
up, she turned to him and said, “I’m a big girl. I can make it to my place
without an escort. Bye. Have a nice life.”
Shaun easily grabbed the back of her sleeveless black shirt. He was
stronger than his wiry body made him seem. “No. We need to talk.”
“In my apartment?” she said sarcastically. “Uh-uh. Sorry, not
happening. And let go of me.”
“The more private, the better. I need to explain some stuff to
you,” he insisted.
“I don’t know you and you want me to let you into my apartment?
Are you crazy?”
“No, but you’ll think I am. Listen, I won’t try anything. Hey,” he
offered with a half-grin, “I’ll do you one better.” He flipped the knife
skillfully and handed it to her, hilt first. She snatched it from his hand.
“Psh. Sure. Why not?” Rolling her eyes, Wren continued her way up
the stairs, angrily taking her keys out of the front pocket of her loose black
pants. She jammed it into the lock, turned it and slammed into the living room
area.
Once inside, she threw her keys onto a table and sat down on her
small couch. “Well? Are you coming or are you just going to stand there?”
Shaun stepped in, closing the door behind him. He took a seat on
the same couch, as far from her as possible. He scrubbed his hand through his
hair and looked at her with piercing blue eyes. The sunset shone through a
window and landed on his hair, giving the impression of a tiger’s fur. “I need
you to listen to me. This is important.”
She merely gave him a cold look and a cynical nod.
“My name is Shaun Matthew Ballou, and in many ways I’m very
similar to the Shaun you know. But in more ways, I’m different.”
“Right. This is all an intricate joke, I take it?”
“Listen! You need to understand this. Wait, hold on.
What’s your name?”
“Wren.”
Shaun nearly fell off the couch from shock. “Wren?”
“Yes, Wren. It’s a fairly uncommon name. Do you know
another?” she said shortly.
“Wr-wren Azrael Black?”
Wren’s eyes widened in shock. “How do you know my name?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is the world, the
universe that you’re used to. But there are universes parallel to this one.
And you exist in every one of them.”
Wren nodded. “I see. You’re one of those Trekkies, aren’t you?
Well, that certainly was a nice story. Still don’t know how you know my
name, but get out.”
Shaun moved closer on the couch. “You don’t understand,” he
persisted. “These parallel universes are directly connected to your life…and
death.”
“My death? Are you threatening me?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you,” he reasoned. “But no. Not
exactly.”
“Not exactly?” she repeated, one eyebrow raised skeptically.
“I’m on vacation,” he explained hurriedly. “Listen to me. In the
real universe, you’re a powerful sorceress bent on destroying everything until
everyone submits to you.”
“The real universe? And why isn’t this universe the ‘real’
universe? I’m as ‘real’ as you. This knife is ‘real’ enough to kill you if you
don’t leave.” Her voice dripped with threatening sarcasm. She pointedly began
unsheathing her knife as she stood up.
Shaun stood up with her. He crossed his arms, and, with a half-grin
on his face, said, “Yeah. But you wouldn’t want to do that. Kill me and you
kill my echo – your bartender.”
Wren just looked at him. “You’re kidding me.”
Shaun shrugged. “Sorry.”
Wren slowly replaced her knife in its sheath and sat again on the
couch. “I understand. In order for your world to be free from oppression, you
have to kill me, either directly or indirectly.” She shifted her weight so that
one of her legs was crossed beneath her as she glared up at him. “What did you
mean when you said you were on vacation?”
He glanced at her, suddenly weary, as he took his seat. “I’m an
inter-universal traveler and assassin. I am hired to kill echoes, in order to
maintain the peace in the Alpha universe – my universe. I’m taking a break.
It’s sort of illegal for me to travel to other universes when I’m not on a
mission, but…” He shrugged nonchalantly. He too shifted and ended up mirroring
Wren.
Wren watched him silently for a few minutes, trying to absorb this
absurd tale. “Okay. Assuming that everything you say is true, and that’s
really stretching it, and you found out I was the ‘echo’ of this witch, then why
didn’t you kill me then?”
Shaun blushed and grinned. “Fair enough. The only way I can travel
between universes is with this pack,” he motioned vaguely to his belt, which
held a small black box, “a transporter and someone to make sure I make it there
safely, via this.” He held up his wrist, to which his communications device was
attached. “Anyway, Eric doesn’t like to do things like this for free, so I
promised to bring him a good-looking girl.” His eyes flicked down, the back up
to her face. “You fit the profile perfectly.”
If he was expecting her to be outraged or slap him, he was greatly
mistaken. She only smiled and shook her head, softly laughing to herself.
“What’s funny?” Shaun demanded. “I wasn’t joking.”
She calmed herself and looked at him. “All right. Let me get this
all straight. Me, Wren Azrael Black, normal girl who just got fired from her
job for being young, who visits ARCONA Pub daily, who is friends with the
bartender – she is, in ‘reality’ a flaming psycho-witch lady who wants to take
over the world. I should be dead by now because of who I ‘really’ am, but I’m
alive only because some guy in the ‘real’ world needs some action and I’m a good
prospect. Oh, and let’s not forget that our friend the bartender is an
inter-dimensional assassin-for-hire. Have I about covered it?”
Shaun laughed. “Yeah, except you’re not insane. You’re not a
witch; you’re a sorceress. And it’s not inter-dimensional, its
inter-universal.”
“Well, good. As long as I have everything all clear,” Wren muttered
scathingly. “Have you ever considered maybe killing the sorceress?”
Shaun became serious. “Yes, but all other attempts have failed.”
“Oh.” She leaned over and put her forehead on the couch, thinking
and stretching at the same time. “What about transporting people to another
universe, like this one?” she asked, her voice muffled through the cushion.
Shaun shook his head. “That’s impossible for two reasons. One: it
would take hundreds of transport packs and that’s just too damned expensive.
Two: it’s a bad idea to encounter your echo. People tend to die when they meet
their echoes. Nature never meant to have two identical beings in the same place
at the same time. There have been people who’ve spontaneously combusted because
they’d met their echo. And once one echo is dead, all the rest of the echoes
die. Meeting yourself would kill you and your echoes.”
Wren rose from her stretching position, looking frustrated. “Oh.
How many universes are there?”
“As far as we can tell, five. Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and
Epsilon.”
“How creative.” She raked her fingers through her hair. She needed
to cut it soon; it was becoming annoying. “What if Wren is an important figure
in another universe?”
Shaun looked at her, surprised. “Hadn’t thought about that. That
would definitely create a lot of problems.”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Then Shaun spoke up rather suddenly. “How old are
you, anyway?”
“18. Why?”
“18? Are you sure?”
“No Shaun. I’m not sure. I don’t know how old I am. Why don’t you
tell me,” she said acidly.
“To go by your real self, you’re 32.”
“32! No, I’m 18.”
“Hmm…” Shaun studied the backs of his hands, thinking.
“Hey, is there any way that I could find out who I am in the other
universes?” Wren asked.
Shaun glanced at her from beneath his eyebrows. “There is, but its
dangerous and not recommended if you appreciate your sanity. Why?”
She sighed and leaned against a cushion. “I have a couple of
ideas. First one is to see if I am important in another universe. If
not, I’ll let you rid the universes of the Wren Azrael Blacks. Second one is
for me to go directly to your universe and kill this woman myself. A sort of
‘last pleasure before I die’ thing.”
Shaun shook his head in amazement. “You’re good. A little bit
suicidal, but very ingenious.”
She gave him a slight smile. “Thanks. When do we leave?”
“Hold on, I never said we were going to go.”
“Yeah, but if you think anything like Shaun does, then you know
we’re going to go.”
He nodded. “You’ve got me. How’s now for you?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
Shaun raised his wrist to his mouth and said, “Eric, Sierra Bravo.
Come in.” The device hissed something incomprehensible. “There’s a change of
plans.”
A voice crackled back, barely understandable to Wren’s untrained
ears. “Uh oh. What are they?”
“I’ll be having company. We need to travel to Beta, Gamma, and
Epsilon, to the echoes of ‘Lady’ Wren.”
“Not going to ask. Three minutes and counting. Over and out.”
Shaun turned to Wren. “We need to be standing close enough to each
other that the transporter picks us up as a single entity. Hurry; we’ve only
got two and a half minutes or so.”
Wren stood up and did as she was told. He smelled nice, and she
could feel his muscles beneath his shirt. She didn’t completely trust him yet,
however. She’d heard strange stories, but this one was by far the strangest.
“How is this going to work?” she wondered aloud.
“You can transport directly to your echo, if Eric’s willing to do
it, which he is.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair, making it stand
up even more on end.
Wren looked up at him, mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are you sure
this whole ‘single entity’ thing isn’t just a ploy to get me close to you?”
He grinned at her. “No.”
Time up and they were engulfed in darkness.