Road Less Traveled (14 page)

Making a decision, Allison typed in a command on her computer. Then she leaned in toward the monitor—and the microphone built in above it.

“Can I have your attention, please?” she asked. She knew every monitor in the building was carrying her face and words right now. She could see the ones in the main lobby out of the corner of her eye, and employees crossing the lobby obediently stopped and turned to see what she had to say.

And what was she going to say? She'd debated. She could have concocted some kind of cover story, claimed it was a hallucinogenic gas leak, or released images stored in the building itself, or some other silliness. But she didn't want to have to lie. These were her people. And besides, she had no idea if these sightings would continue to increase. She didn't want to make up some phony explanation now and get caught out later when the situation changed.

So she settled on the truth.

“As some of you may know, Dr. Nancy Russell has been conducting an experiment into extradimensional visualization.” She smiled, reliving the excitement of the initial discovery. “She has succeeded beyond our wildest expectations. Dr. Russell and her team have been able to assemble clear images of another reality—a reality surprisingly like our own. The theory of divergent realities has now been proven, and what we are seeing is another Eureka—a Eureka very much like ours, but with some differences as well.” She could almost hear the surprise and interest rippling through the building. “Many of you have seen people around the building today, people you know but who do not seem to know you, people who look or act differently from what you expect. Even people who are no longer with us.” She forced herself to push on. “These are images from that other Eureka. You are seeing alternate versions of the people we know, versions whose lives have diverged a little or in some cases a lot from those same people here.”

She took a breath. “We don't know exactly how the visual spectrum is bleeding over from Dr. Russell's lab, but clearly it is. And it seems to be spreading throughout the building. But I assure you that it is not dangerous. You are merely seeing into another world. And they are seeing into ours. So please do not be alarmed. Do inform me or Dr. Russell whenever you see something of this nature, however, so we can keep a record of these sightings.”

Something else occurred to her. “As far as I know, no one has actually been able to touch one of these alternate versions,” she pointed out. “They seem to be like ghosts here, or holograms—they have no mass, and no solidity. Even so, it is probably best if you do not try to touch them, just in case. We don't know what would happen if matter from our two realities ever came in contact.”

She smiled again, to offset the fear that last statement might have caused. “For now, just think of this as a chance to see what some of your friends and co-workers would have been like if their lives had gone a little differently. Thank you.”

Allison switched off the announcement system and rose, stretching first and then smoothing the front of her suit. Hopefully that would help calm people's nerves and settle any fears.

But she still needed to find out why this was happening, and if there really was any danger.

Which meant another trip to see Dr. Russell.

She hoped she wouldn't run into any of the other side's residents on the way.

 

Her trip down to Dr. Russell's lab was uneventful,
thankfully, but Allison stopped dead when she stepped into the lab itself. Standing there in the monitor, speaking with the two Russells, was a man she knew only too well. A man she thought she'd never see again.

Nathan.

“Hello, Nathan,” she managed, crossing the room and stopping to stand beside her Dr. Russell. He was sitting beside his, leaning back, legs crossed and up on the console. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Same old Nathan.

“Hey, Allison.” His voice was exactly as she remembered it, husky and smooth at the same time, deep and rich and vibrating with the same warmth that danced in his eyes. God, how she'd missed that voice, and that look!

“I was just telling them about the announcement you made,” her Russell told her, glancing up at her. “They could hear some of it, but not all.”

“I made a similar announcement,” Nathan added with that slight smirk that had always made part of her want to laugh and the other part want to hit him. “Great minds think alike. But that's not really a surprise.”

“So your people have been seeing mine?” Allison forced herself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

“It's been a bit more than that, actually,” he conceded. “They've been finding themselves in a GD that looks almost, but not exactly, like our own. And running into people who look a lot like people we know, but with some subtle differences.” She didn't miss the way his eyes flicked over her, as if searching for any differences, and tried to fight back a blush. He could still get to her, apparently.

But then, in his world, he'd had plenty of practice.

“So the pull has been toward our side,” she noted, and Nathan and both Russells nodded. “Your people are coming here, but ours aren't going there.”

“Seems that way,” he agreed. “It doesn't seem to be dangerous, though if it continues to increase it could be. The real question is, why is this happening?” He glanced at his Russell, and at the equipment behind them. “I was thrilled when Russell told me she'd cracked the dimensional barrier, and ecstatic when she said she'd proven divergent realities by sighting another Eureka. But the way this experiment has gone beyond its original parameters—not to mention the bounds of this lab—is becoming disturbing.”

“I agree.” Allison clenched her hands, which desperately wanted to run their fingers through his hair. He wasn't even here! But seeing him there, alive and well, and talking to him, listening to him, watching him—it was killing her. “We need to figure out what's causing this and why, so we can extrapolate and see if it's going to continue, or taper off, or somehow get stronger.”

“We'll get right on it,” the two Russells insisted, speaking at the same time, and then grinning at each other. They began talking softly, sharing ideas at a rapid-fire pace, entering concepts and theories and lines of code into their respective computer consoles.

Which left Allison and Nathan eyeing each other quietly.

“You look good,” he said, breaking the silence first. “Healthy. Happy. I'm glad.”

“They told you?” She couldn't bring herself to say anything more about it, but he nodded.

“I don't know the project in question,” he admitted. “It's not anything we have running here, so that's clearly one point of divergence. But if we did, and that was the only way—” He shrugged.

“I know.” He'd do exactly the same thing. Nathan had been like that. He'd often mocked Carter for acting like a hero, leaping into danger without a second thought, but he'd done the same thing himself when he thought there weren't any other options. He just believed in exploring other possibilities first.

“You look good, too,” Allison told him. And he did. Comfortable, relaxed, in control—the way he always had. Just like her own Nathan had looked, right up until the end.

He gave her one of his half smiles, along with his usual shrug. “I manage.” He waved his hand idly, and she saw the flash of the wedding ring on it. Then she had to look away, because she couldn't see anything else through the sudden tears.

“I'm sorry.” He leaned in closer, letting his hands drop out of view below the console, and lowered his voice. “I know this has got to be hard for you.”

“Does your—does the other me know?” Allison asked when she'd regained her composure. She'd started to say “wife” but couldn't manage to get the word out, even though the woman he'd married was her in a very real sense. But it wasn't this her, and she couldn't bear the thought of him being married to anyone else, even though he wasn't really her Nathan, either.

He nodded, but looked uncomfortable, which didn't happen often. Or at least it hadn't with her Nathan, and she assumed it was the same over there. “She wants to see you,” he said finally, “but I'm not sure that's a good idea. There are some things—sometimes it's better not knowing how your life could have gone differently.”

Allison frowned. Why would he worry about the other Allison getting upset by meeting her? She was the one who'd had it all work out! She had Nathan,
and
she had Jenna!

“Is there—” She stopped, then started again. “Is there something wrong?”

He frowned, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I don't think we should get into it,” he replied eventually. “Let's just say my Allison has suffered as well, and leave it at that. I really don't think you want to know any more.”

Allison felt her heart seize up.

Kevin.

He was talking about Kevin.

She wasn't sure how she knew, but she was absolutely certain.

After all, the other Allison had Nathan. And she had Jenna—the other Russell had said she'd seen their daughter not long ago, and she was beautiful.

Which left Kevin. Losing her son was the only other thing that could have made her suffer in the same way.

Or maybe Carter. But if that were the case she didn't think Nathan would have hesitated to tell her. He and Carter had never gotten along, and Nathan had always delighted in giving Carter grief, even indirectly.

No, it had to be her son. What had happened? Was he—was he alive?

She wanted to ask, but couldn't.

Nathan was right. Sometimes it was better not to know. Even though her own son was alive and well, the thought that another version of him had died probably would have overwhelmed her.

In much the same way that learning her husband had died in another reality would have been devastating.

“I think you're right,” Allison managed to say, forcing each word out slowly and carefully. “Some things we shouldn't know. And I'm not sure she and I should meet yet. Maybe at some point.”

“Of course.” He nodded, and looked relieved. Then he hoisted himself to his feet. “Assuming we can figure out why my people are popping over to your reality for these little sightseeing tours, and make sure everyone is safe and secure on both ends.”

“Absolutely.” Allison glanced over at her Russell, who was still conferring with her alternate self. “We should let them work at the problem for a bit. We can reconvene once they've got something tell us.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled at her, and gave a short bow. “I'll see you around.” Then he turned and walked away, toward the lab's door and the edge of the monitor's view.

Allison just stood there for a minute, unmoving. Finally, when she felt she could trust herself again, she exited as well.

She made it halfway back to her office before she collapsed against a wall, crying great gulping tears.

Fortunately, no one from either world was there to see it.

“She'll be okay, Jack,” Henry assured him, patting him
on the back. “She'll be fine.”

“I know. I know she will.” Carter took a deep breath, then bit savagely into his cheeseburger. “I just . . . she took it pretty hard, you know?”

“I do indeed.” For an instant, less than an instant, Henry's eyes were haunted, and Carter cursed himself. When would he learn to think before he spoke? Henry had been in love with Kim Anderson for years, all the way back to his days as a GD researcher. She had been interested in him as well, but had somehow wound up with their mutual friend Jason instead. Years later, she and Jason returned to Eureka. When Kim and Henry discovered Jason had been using a device to erase memories and steal their ideas, she divorced him. She and Henry finally admitted their feelings for each other, and they were happy.

Until sabotage on the Artifact project created an energy burst that destroyed the Artifact lab's observation chamber.

And killed Kim, who had been the lead researcher on the project.

Henry had been devastated. It had taken him a while to pull himself back together. But he'd managed it.

Until a ship he and Kim had designed years before, a ship that GD had sent out to map the universe, had returned. And when some sort of virus corrupted the ship's onboard computer, it cloned one of its creators and dumped all of its stored information into her cells.

But that meant Henry found himself face-to-face with an exact clone of his dead love. Kim lived again.

Only, it wasn't her. Not really.

But that didn't make it any easier when they discovered that Kim 2.0 was dying, and that the only way to obtain the ship's information before her cells degraded and all that priceless data was lost, was to dissolve her. To kill her.

And Henry had to watch his love die all over again.

So yeah, he knew what Allison was going through better than anyone.

Carter swallowed. “I'm sorry, Henry. I'm an idiot.”

His best friend shook his head and managed a smile. “You're not an idiot, Jack. But thank you.” He sighed. “So trust me when I say, she'll be okay. It may take a little time, but she'll come through this.”

“Okay.”

They finished their food in silence. They often met for lunch or dinner here at Café Diem, and Carter had wanted to catch Henry up on everything that had been going on, both with the Thunderbird theft and with the other Eureka. Because in addition to being Eureka's duly elected mayor, Henry Deacon was also one of its best and brightest. And he was Jack's best friend. He was the person Jack always turned to first for advice.