Afterparty (34 page)

At the top of the stairs Lyda stopped. There were two doors to her left and two to her right. The next arrow pointed left, but Lyda seemed unsure. Sasha flashed it more brightly. There were fewer wall screens up there, just a few patches here and there to host photographs and a virtual intercom. The doors couldn’t display anything at all. All she could do was keep strobing that one arrow, which Lyda seemed to ignore.

“What’s Bio Mom doing
now
?” Bucko said.

Lyda went right. The first door was the guest bathroom, used by no one. She peeked inside and moved on. Then she came to the double doors that led to Eduard and Suzette’s bedroom. She put her hand on the doorknob, but it was locked.

Lyda looked up at the ceiling, palms out:
Well?

Sasha was not about to unlock the door. Lyda tried the door again.

“There’s nothing in there,” Bucko said. “Get her to turn around.”

“How?” Sasha asked.

Fortunately, Lyda changed her mind. She spun about and walked back to the left … and passed the office door. She was headed straight for Grandpop’s bedroom!

“Oh my stars and garters!” Mother Maybelle exclaimed.

Sasha quickly opened a new set of controls and typed
STOP!
The word appeared on the wall between the office door and Grandpop’s room.

Lyda looked straight at the wall—which gave the illusion that she could see Sasha and was looking into her eyes. The woman’s eyebrows were raised, and she wore a slight smile. Sasha suddenly realized that Lyda knew exactly what was happening and who was doing what.

“She’s jerking you around!” Bucko said.

“Ah think it’s Miss Rose who does not appreciate being ‘jerked around,’” Zebo said in his deep alligator voice.

Sasha typed:
The office is open.
She’d unlocked it before she woke up Lyda for this treasure hunt.
I won’t be able to see or hear you in there.
Sasha cleared the screen and typed a new line.
The paintings are leaning against the wall.

Lyda saluted. Then she slipped into the office and closed the door.

“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” Sasha said.

“It wasn’t the most
straightforward
way to proceed,” Zebo said. “But ah approve of any tactic which keeps you at arm’s length from Eduard.”

None of the Imaginary Friends were fans of her parents, though a few of them pitied Suzette. Their opinion on this newly discovered bio parent was divided. Could Lyda Rose be trusted? If she cared for Sasha, why hadn’t she shown up before now?

One fact trumped everything: Lyda had her own IF. She was like Sasha, and Grandpop. That meant she already understood her in a way that Eduard and Suzette never could. Lyda would get to the bottom of what Eduard was up to, and Sasha would stay safely on the sidelines.

Ever since she’d discovered who Lyda Rose was, Sasha had nurtured a secret wish, a daydream really, which she so far had managed to keep from the IFs. That was no easy trick; they were an intuitive bunch, and Mother Maybelle especially was attuned to what Sasha was feeling. But Sasha held the dream inside her, and when no one was looking she lifted the lid to check on it:

Tomorrow, or the day after, Lyda moved into the big house in the desert, and there she lived with Sasha and Grandpop and Esperanza. Eduard and Suzette vanished off to London or New York or wherever it was that they
really
wanted to live, and Sasha was finally able to bring the IF Deck out into the open and talk to her friends whenever she wanted. Because Lyda wasn’t just her birth mother, she was like Sasha and Grandpop, what he called “God-blessed.” The three of them understood each other in a way that outsiders, alone in their heads with only their own voice to keep them company, never ever would. Oh, Esperanza
said
she knew exactly what was going on in Sasha’s head, but she didn’t, not really. Everything would finally be—

“Mother
fucker!
”

The shout came from the wall, which was still tuned in to the hallway outside Eduard’s office, but it also traveled through real space and down the hallway to Sasha’s room. In the magic mirror, Lyda Rose had stepped onto the balcony, holding a big beige cube. It was the thing from the package Sasha had found a few days ago in Eduard’s office, the one that had been too heavy for her to lift. It looked like a printer/copier.

“
Edo!
” Lyda yelled. “Get the fuck out here!”

She threw the cube off the balcony. A moment later Sasha heard the crash. Sasha quickly flicked through the various screens until she got a shot of the great room. The cube had hit the big granite coffee table and exploded. Pieces were everywhere.

“
That
,” Bucko said, “was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Sasha flicked her hands at the wall, making the sign for mosaic, and two dozen mirrors opened at once, showing almost every room in the house and a few views of the outside. She watched Esperanza throw open the door of her room, pulling on her robe with fire-drill urgency. Rovil, still wearing all his clothes, stood in the middle of his room, looking at the door as if deciding whether to come out. And Grandpop, poor tired old man, was the last to appear, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. By the time he stepped onto the balcony, Lyda was already below, pulling at pieces of machinery.

“What have I done?” Sasha cried. “Why is she so
mad
?”

Elk Heart’s knuckles tightened on his spear, but the chief said nothing. Squidly drifted down to place a tendril on her shoulder. Tinker watched her with his headlight eyes.

“Maybe we should turn off these windows,” Mother Maybelle said.

“Screw that,” Bucko said.

Lyda and Grandpop were fighting now, or rather, Lyda was yelling at Grandpop and he was trying to get her to calm down. Then Esperanza turned on the lights to the room, which startled them both and interrupted Lyda’s shouting—but only for a moment.

“Should I go out there?” Sasha asked.

“Ah advise against it,” Zebo said. “For now.” HalfnHalf nodded his two heads in agreement.

Tinker pinged significantly, and Sasha noticed something strange in one of the far windows. Somebody was moving out by the garage. She zoomed in, and saw that it was a man in a black cowboy hat, a white man she’d never seen before. An electrical box attached to the garage was open. He reached inside it—

The wall blanked. The mirrors were gone, and with it all light in the room. Sasha flicked her hands, but the house, her faithful house, refused to respond.

“Uh-oh,” Bucko said.

A tiny flame flared in the corner of the room. Sasha stood up.

He leaned against the wall, the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes. He touched the match to his cigarette, puffed once, then dropped the match to the floor.

Bucko said, “How the hell did he get out of—?”

Sasha held out her hand. The bear shut up.

The Wander Man ground out the match with the toe of one black boot. “You know who that man is out there, right?”

Sasha nodded. “He’s you.”

“Close enough, Miss Sasha. Close enough.” He looked up and smiled. None of the IFs moved. They were all, even Elk Heart, terrified of him, and he knew it.

“You listen carefully,” he said. “And do exactly what I say.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“You crazy motherfucker.” I threatened him with a fragment from the broken machine, a length of flat steel that ended in a sharp tip. “You’re building them.”

Edo blinked at me as if the light was too bright. Esperanza and Dr. Gloria hovered in the corner of the huge living room, like seconds ready to step between the combatants. Well, good luck with that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’ve never seen—whatever that is.”

“The paintings are upstairs, Edo. The fucking blueprints. You got Gilbert to design it for you, and you fucking made it, then you’ve got one sitting in your fucking
house
.”

“Please, Lyda, I—”

“How many did you make, Edo? Where’s the factory putting them together? How many churches do you have out there?”

He stared at the coffee table and the remains of the printer. Most of the machine was intact, but shards of plastic and bright pieces of stainless steel were scattered over the wooden floors. “Did this—did you get it from Eduard’s office?”

“Do
not
try to blame this on him,” I said. “You’re the evangelist, Edo. I never thought you’d actually try to do it, but then I saw the first one in Toronto—a chemjet to print One-Ten.”

“I swear to you—”

“Stop lying. I know about the churches. I know about ‘Logos.’ Just tell me what you’ve done to Sasha. Are you giving her Numinous?”

“What?” He gave a very good impression of being shocked. “Of course not!”

Dr. Gloria said, “You don’t believe that.”

“Why not?” I said to Edo. “You told me you thought everybody should be on it.”

“Yes, but a small amount. Not like
us
. God is … too strong in us. I would never do that to a child.” He stepped toward me, and I swiped at him with my improvised blade. He stopped and raised his hands. “Lyda, she’s been like us since the beginning. You have to believe me.”

“How about everybody else, Edo?” I asked. “How about dosing the world?”

The room went dark. Even the hallway lights winked out. I jumped back from Edo, keeping him and Esperanza in front of me. But they seemed just as surprised as I was.

Only Dr. Gloria’s figure was clear to me in the dark. Her appearance required only fauxtons. “What’s going on, Doc?”

Before she could answer, someone darted into the room: Sasha. She ran to Edo and threw her arms around his waist.

“It’s okay,” Edo said to her. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

The girl gestured frantically toward the kitchen. “It’s just a power failure,” he said. Her hands fluttered in exasperation, but of course with the power out, the walls were silent.

Esperanza moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the flashlights,” she said. Sasha threw up her hands, a clear
No!
But the maid did not see her and stepped through the arch.

Sasha was frantic now, pulling at Edo, and he tried to soothe her. From the kitchen I heard a thump, then a crash of metal, as if Esperanza had knocked over a rack of skillets.

“Esperanza?” Edo called. He moved toward the kitchen. Sasha seized his arm, trying to keep him from moving. “Please, Sasha—stay with Lyda.”

A silhouette appeared in the archway. “Howdy, folks,” the voice said.

It was the cowboy. He tilted back his hat and said, “Good to see you again, Lyda. And you must be Mr. Vik.”

Dr. Gloria stepped in front of me. Her wings snapped open in a blaze of white. “Don’t move,” she told me, “until I tell you to move.”

Edo had stopped in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry,” he said to the cowboy. “Who are you?”

The cowboy lifted his hand. Moonlight glinted on the barrel of the pistol. “Have the little girl take two steps away from you.”

Edo stepped to place himself in front of Sasha. “No,” he said.

“I’m going to count to three,” the cowboy said.

Sasha looked to her left, into the dark at the edge of the room. Then she looked back at the cowboy. She didn’t move from Edo.

“I’m a traditionalist,” the cowboy said. “And it’s customary to spare the child. But I
will
do what’s necessary.”

Sasha looked up at Edo. She gripped his hand in both of hers, and seemed to squeeze it.

“I love you, too, sweetie,” Edo said. “Now go on. Don’t worry about me.”

She let go of him and stepped away, moving not toward me, or even toward her bedroom, but toward the corner of the room where she’d been looking a moment before.

Edo raised his arms. “If you harm anyone else in this room, God’s judgment will be upon you.”

Sasha stopped, and picked up something from the floor. A length of metal, just like mine.

The cowboy hadn’t seen this—his eyes were on Edo. “Aw,” he said. “I thought you believed in a god of infinite love.” He fired: two loud bangs. Edo jerked and fell forward. His huge body crashed into one of the chairs, then slid sideways. The cowboy swung his pistol toward me.

Dr. Gloria shoved me backward. The fiery sword appeared in her hand. She raised it and rushed forward like a whirlwind of flame. The pistol fired twice more. I was jerked backward by some force, and then suddenly my legs tangled and I fell to the floor.

The cowboy screamed and fell to his knees before the angel reached him. “No more,” she said, and plunged the sword into his gut.

The cowboy looked down in amazement. The weapon was sunk to the hilt in his stomach; I could see its fiery blade on the far side of his body. After a moment he tilted sideways and collapsed to the floor.

The angel stepped back, withdrawing the blade as she moved. She seemed to be made of brilliant, rippling flame. She turned to me, and I could barely look at her.

“Do not be afraid,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right.”

The dark contracted around us, until I could see nothing but her light, feel nothing but her heat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Someone was holding my hand. And as soon I understood that, I recognized the cool, otherworldly touch of Dr. Gloria. I couldn’t move and didn’t want to; neither was I particularly interested in opening my eyes. But I could feel the doctor’s fingers around my own, and I thought, So. I’m dead.

I didn’t feel any anger about this, or disappointment. Only relief.

A decade ago I’d woken up in a hospital with Dr. Gloria sitting beside me, her hand in mine as it was now. My mind had been hammered flat by three facts: There was a Higher Power; It loved me; and there was no escaping It.

In the years that followed, I desperately tried to forget this revelation. Write it off. Discredit it with everything I knew about the untrustworthy brain, how NME 110 rewired it even further.
Know it’s a trick, and don’t forget it’s a trick.

But I wanted to be wrong. I wanted that ol’ white magic. For a brief time, a decade ago, I’d become convinced that there was nothing to be afraid of. I had known that the universe was a living thing, and that it cared for me. But the moment had passed, and I’d become convinced that it was all a sham.