Elvissey (7 page)

"How'd they magnetize you?" Leverett asked as John
plucked the clips loose. My husband, as did all in Security,
had strips of Krylar dermally implanted across his torso, that
missiles might be deflected without recoursing to bulky
outerwear; Security once did all that was possible to stresslessen its workers in body and mind.

"Passing side effect of morning's tests," John answered,
"I'm told." I'd met my husband after clinicking; John's session had been no more enjoyable than mine. "Departure
date solid yet?"

"Wednesday next. Expectations must be mounting skyhigh, considering what lies ahead," Leverett said, smiling so
unceasingly, if with more subtly evinced awareness, as Mister
O'Malley's sister. "Travelready?"

"We're hep, dad," I said, demonstrating the command I'd
gained in properly wording those whom we might encounter. "Keen to lay rubber."

Comprehending my rewordings without overmuch confusion, Leverett allowed his smile to broaden until his skull
seemed set to drop from his jaw. "AO, Isabel. Clear as air,"
he said. "Plaintext English suffices here, needless to say.
What necessaries remain, at present? So many tracks, my
train gets lost sometimes."

"Evening meet with Biggerstaff set for this eve," I said.
"Course finals, Friday."

"Fine, fine. Your teachers prepped to apple?" We nodded. "Couldn't have selected better than you two if we'd
tried." Fisting one hand, he struck his other, rejoicing at the
sound of skin hurting skin. "Oh, Godness. Superfluous to
say where I'd go, if I wasn't essentialled here-"

"Where?" John asked, employing Jakeish methods: inquiring of the obvious where no inquiry was expected, that
unpracticed reactions might be studied, and appraised, and
filed into memory for possible later use. "Where would you
goy„

"There. Over there," said Leverett, his smile unchanging.
His simplest reaction impressed me as long-practiced and
heartknown, if not heartfelt. I didn't distrust Leverett more
or less than any for whom I worked, supposed co-believer of
ours in God and Godness though he might be; John, of
suspicious mind, forever reattuned to those around him,
and so kept greater distance. Once I termed Leverett avuncular; John said he'd never allow him near children, whosever they were. "It's a dream mission, truly. Over there you'll
see how we all could have gone."

"I've concerns," said John.

"Allow me to mentor," he said, his eyes dog-eager and as
dark. "It's what I'm made for. No policy better than honesty.
Detail deepest thoughts. What's felt?" I silenced, lipstill; by
then numberless tests had come so unexpectedly, so often,
that I considered at length the simplest inquiries. "Relax,"
he said. "No answer wrong here. What troubles?"

"The polarization," John said. "Madam's disbelief
unyields, yet with each meet your spiel intenses till we seem
stopping short of reinventing wheels. The difference troubles overmuch."

"Mister O'Malley approves full," said Leverett, reclining
in his unpadded chair. "All have opinions, his matter most."
He gestured toward the portrait of his male predecessor, a middleage man of unsettling look whose painted stare blistered whomever his eyes sighted. "Timeover there've been
questions and qualms incompany over method and purpose.
Mister Leibson always contraried if the betterment of the
company demanded. Timeover he was proven right."

"He was exed, nonetheless," John said. "Might history
repeat?"

"It was an interfamilial matter," said Leverett. "Mrs. Dryden. Mindaddled. You know the tales. A tragedy, nonetheless. My blessing, that I was mentored by one so great. Mister
Liebson enabled Dryco to be what it became."

Leverett's other predecessor was female, and named Joanna, or so worded the frame's inscription. Her face interested me more than Liebson's; her fear, unlike his, directed
not out but in. Hers was a twentieth-century face, haloed
with blond hair, staring with sleepless look, countenancing
lightbright with unaccepted pain. She'd suicided as well, or
so Leverett told; yet another mindaddled, he said.

. "Then what so necessaries Dryco's regooding?" John
asked.

"Changing circumstance," Leverett said, "as told. Regooding's a simple process. Minor readjustments, a clock's
winding, new soles on the shoes. Some improve at will," he
said, looking at me. "Elvii, sadly, respond to no prompts
other than their own. As Mister O'Malley has said, sense
goes unheard. Ergo, we'll calm them as they wish, since
nothing else suffices."

"A corresponding E's existence is unassured," John said.

"Statistics evidence an eighty per chance." said Leverett.
"Numbers' comfort satisfies."

"Statistics lie, told to lie," John said. His damp forehead
beaded, and he tempered so, that I feared he'd forgotten to
medicate. I took his hand, hoping to calm; he slipped free
of my grip. "If the goal's nonexistent, all's pointless."

"Nonexistent? Unknown unless tried," said Leverett.
"We'll tack a different course in event of unsuccess, but one attempt's demanded. Ends justify means, however the turnout. What concerns so, as the date nears and all plans ready
to engage?"

"Promotion's assured?"John asked, pointing towards me,
seeming unmindful of his own proposed raise. Leverett sat
back in his chair; examined us-still smiling-as if he were
our father, and was disappointed we'd found it necessary to
ask about something promised, however often he'd reneged
in the past.

"Doubled salaries in either circumstance," he said. "If all
successes, unimaginable fulfillment is certified as contracted. Our world and all its wonders will lay platterways
before you."

John shrugged, quieted. A different concern beset my
mind. "I discussed particulars of medical problems with
Madam-"

"She awared me," Leverett said, his smile narrowing. He
reached into his desk, taking from a secured compartment
two pill-filled tubes. "Had to roundabout a bit on these. All
doors open when one knows the knock," he said, laughing,
passing me one of the containers. "This will intensify Melaway's recomplexioning process. A like formula, similar to
what you have. Take one each night till departure, along
with your other dose, neither more nor less." He handed the
second tube to John. "For you."

"Added dope?" he asked, pocketing it.

"I wouldn't call it that," Leverett said. "Should assist your
trials. Again, take along with what's prescribed. There, now.
Further questions?"

"What if we find the other world's E," I asked, "and he's
disinclined to return?"

"Would anyone deny proffered godhead?" Leverett asked,
his facade agleam with a child's astonishment. "Choose a
limboed life over one spent in something approximating
heaven? If he's there, and if he's found, relate your truth
predeparture, if necessaried. Cliffside him, and show him his awaiting cities. Hold any carrots you have close to his
nose." His smile engorged, revealing rows of whitened teeth.
"If he still doubts," Leverett said, eyeing my husband as he
rattled his bottle of pills, "well, you'll convince. My trust
implicits."

"General Biggerstaff-"

"Luther, please. Formalities never suited," he said. "Listen as I tell. Point of transferral was here." He tapped
Russia's gold meadowlands with coppery fingers. "Point of
emergence, here." Adjusting his touch as if to better please
a lover, he stroked Pennsylvania's rosy mountains. "You've
been awared of the displacement effects of high velocity,
surely. Shouldn't expect similar, moving at slower pace."

"This globe," John asked, vizzing the world before him.
"Dated when?"

"1939," said Luther. "Summer. It's of our world, of
course. Eye Germany, there. Austria and Czechoslovakia already annexed. Poland not yet overrun, and the future just
over the edge."

Imprinted upon the orb were splotches of pink and green
and yellow, lingering evidence of lands long lost: Tibet and
Madagascar, Baluchistan and Siam; Chosen, Tannu Touva,
the Belgian Congo and Nyasaland. What were Nyasas?
Where had they gone? Were they sent away by others, or had
they packed themselves off en masse, that they alone might
perpetrate the erasure of their memory? Standing in his
living room, staring at his globe, I studied our world's face
as it once showed itself. Did the resemblance to theirs still
hold true, or had, unbeknownst to us or mayhap even to
them, a third world emerged from the mix?

"Enumerate their world's dissimilar manifests," John said.

"Innumerable," said Luther.

"What were your impressions?" I asked.

"Tragic beauty. Grateful loss. All descriptives are contra dictory. My opinions are meaningless, after all. Rewrite the
book according to your wishes as you read."

The Biggerstaffs were forty-seventh-floored in a new
Dryco building, on One-Eighty, near the park. I remembered going as a child to the old zoo, seeing animals so lost
as Nyasas or Baluchistanis. Those living in the surrounding
neighborhood, prior to its levelling, hadn't yet killed them
all. I trepidated that evening upon entering their apartment;
his wife, we were told, was from that other world, and no one
briefed us as to how she would show. Luther greeted us
singly, appearing to hold fewer years than in truth he actually held. After a half hour passed in his wife's absence, I
relaxed enough to almost forget she was there.

"This'll show at borderbreak?" John asked, studying a
framed photo ahang on a wall that pictured a sharp white
spear and marbled ball.

"Your guess, my guess," Luther said. "We tore ours down.
They have their own style."

As did Luther; the photo was contemporaneous with the
decor. Throughout the apartment were century-old antiques: Kodachromed postcards of erased American streets,
stony, gargoyled towers, and restaurants guised in animal
shape; bloodshaded tumblers, lamps with smooth chrome
curves, skyscraper-sleek bottles, stepsided clocks faced with
angular, unreadable numbers; tins logoed with non-Dryco
insignia, the silver moons of hubcaps affixed to peach-pale
walls. Atop an oversized wooden radio was an insecticide
sprayer, its shape reminiscent of streamlined male genitalia,
recast in dented tin; the painted letters FLIT underlay the
shaft's rust.

"Your museumpieces astonish," I said, eyeing it all. "Such
a collection."

"It's a bloodsport like any other. The past pleases overmuch to be entirely healthy," Luther said. "My wife needs
dinner. Excuse me."

Luther trod catfooted, glancing through the doors he passed, moving as John moved: those tarred with the Army
or Security brush forever revealed their conditioning, however they tried to hide it, stepping as if each movement
might bring blast, hooding their eyes against what didn't
have to be seen.

"You crossed unaware of what lay before you," John said.
"What resulted?"

"Expect your own shocks," said Luther, switching on kit-
chenlight; pausing before he entered the room. "They've
prepped you so well as possible for this, I gather?"

"We're doubleprepped," I said. "Classed in linguistics,
sociobservation, popular artifacts, cultural anticipation, historical processes-"

He masked his face as he spoke, revealing nothing.
"They're bleaching you? That's wise. They've absolute apartheid there, and nothing inkled that it was about to
change-"

"Forewarned, forearmed," I said. "I'm prepped to slough
away hurt."

"It'll slough like burnt skin," he said. "Excuse present
company, but whites are worse than devils over there. You'll
be in New York, I reason. Unimaginable what the rest is
like." Luther extracted a wrapped tray from the freezer and
slid it into the unit. "Can you tell what essentials this trip?"

"You weren't briefed?" He shook his head, and sat down
at his table, gesturing that we should sit as well. "Forgive and
understand, we can't relate-"

"Understood," he said. "I was outcompanied till retirement, to all intent. Jake was held irreplaceable by the company, but he chose not to return. I'd have been happy to
bring him back, regardless. Blame must sleep somewhere,
and Dryco found my bed best. When would it be over there,
now?"

"1954," 1 said. "May's first week."

He nodded. "Keep minded. The longer you're there," he
said, "the worse it'll become."

John's expression shadowed, as if his curtains drew
tighter, hearing of that other world's limited blessings; he
appeared unsurprised by Luther's warning. "It took you
long to readjust, postreturn?" he asked. Luther's expression
inferred that the thought had never occurred; that, mayhap,
he'd never readjusted. The unit's bell rang; he walked over
and reset the warmer for an additional minute. "Wanda likes
hers burnt black," he explained.

"Your wife is here?" I asked, recalling her theoretical
presence; unexpectedly, I discerned her spirit near, and
shivered with the sense of feeling a cool draft, or ice brushed
along my spine.

"She keeps to herself," Luther said. "Consider this question personal rather than corporate. What concerns you
most about your trip?"

"Returning," I said.

Luther nodded. "Don't expect to."

The chime rerang; Luther extracted the tray from the unit
and flayed away its glittering skin, easing back from the
steamjet so as not to scald himself.

"Understood," John said. Luther slipped on kitchen mitts
before lifting the tray. "You knew Jake well?" My husband's
voice came unexpectedly soft, as if we were alone.

"Did you?" Luther asked. "My wife needs feeding. You'd
care to meet?"

"She's from the other world?" I said, hoping that he'd
deny. He nodded, raising the tray before him with shaking
hands, as if in offerance to one who might slap him down.
I perceived in him the penultimate result of our unavoidable
syzygy with time; how its touch changed over years from that
of lover to that of snake, its embrace crushing as it hardened,
stealing all life but for that upon which it needed to feed
before crawling away.