How Do I Love Thee? Read online

  They eat in silence. Alyssa continues to read so she will not make the mistake of saying anything that could be construed as criticism.

  After dinner Gerard strips and climbs straight into bed. Alyssa runs some water for the dishes.

  ‘Don’t do them now!’ he calls. ‘I’ll do them in the morning.’

  She stays silent but the resentful voice in her head says: Sure you will, just like you cooked my dinner, and she continues squeezing detergent into the water.

  Next minute a fully dressed Gerard storms through the kitchen.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asks, surprised, turning from the sink, her hands in rubber gloves.

  ‘You haven’t said a word to me,’ he says, throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading towards the front door. ‘You have to accept me how I am!’ he calls over his left shoulder then disappears into the night.

  Alyssa is astounded. He’s right, she hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t said any of the things she wanted to say. Expressed no disappointment. Made no accusations and still she lost him. It wasn’t fair.

  This time, she is too tired and too angry to placate him. She thinks back over every aspect of the evening in her mind. Perhaps I should have joined him at the pub. Maybe I should have just let him cook late or pick up some takeaway. But I was so looking forward to him cooking for me for once … He promised! No, it isn’t me being unreasonable, she consoles herself as she finishes the dishes and surveys her clean kitchen. It is him.

  Alyssa scoops up Princess and takes her into the bedroom. She is too shocked to cry. She reads back through the diary she kept the last time he left and realises how circular and predictable their interactions have become. ‘He acts and I react. Well, at least I have control over one of those things,’ she tells the attentive kitten.

  Alyssa draws a red circle around a date on the calendar. ‘If I am right, this will be about the time that he will collapse in a heap and tell me he can’t live without me,’ she continues. ‘But that’s going to be way too late. I will be enrolled at the School of Art by then and quite likely dating a gorgeous man who will actually appreciate how fabulous I am.’

  Alyssa begins a new page in her diary.

  He is gone. Again. I’m feeling as though I’ve just taken off a heavy winter coat. I’ll be fine this time. Suddenly the world is full of opportunities. Tomorrow, I’m going to …

  The kitten makes purring noises. The woman makes plans.

  MORE THAN ONE LIFE

  SONNY WHITELAW

  ‘I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise’

  Julia Scott had flown combat missions with Commander Robert Burnett during the Gulf War. Three months in the back seat of his F-14 Tomcat had given her a unique insight into his personality. Now, eighteen years later, as he sat beside her in the limousine on the drive from Sydney airport to the HMAS Penguin Naval Base at Balmoral, she could taste his incredulity.

  ‘We appreciate this is a great deal to take in, Commander Burnett,’ said the Minister for Defence, Tom Wilkie. ‘But, perversely, it seems that time is at a premium.’

  ‘Due respect, sir,’ Burnett replied, his familiar Chuck Yeager drawl a mix of scepticism and respect. ‘Given what y’all have just told me, isn’t that a contradiction in terms?’

  The fourth man in the limousine, Vice Admiral Douglas Prado, ran a hand across his bald head, smoothing back hair that had disappeared years earlier. ‘I can assure you, Commander, that Tom is not spinning you some fanciful yarn. The Temporal Project is real, and Commander Scott is the world’s leading authority on the subject.’

  On this world, at least, thought Julia. ‘The energy required to travel through time increases exponentially the further we go,’ she said. ‘Twenty years is the maximum operational distance. We’re also restrained by the Grandfather Paradox—’

  ‘I know that one,’ Burnett interrupted. ‘That’s the weird circular reasoning about going back in time and killing your grandfather before you were born. Right?’

  If only it were that simple. ‘Some of the time,’ she replied. ‘No pun intended, Commander.’

  The memory of another reaction long ago came unbidden to Julia.

  ‘Are you out of your goddamned mind? You’re futzing with the future—past, whatever—of an entire planet! And last time I looked, Commander Scott, we only have one planet.’

  ‘Things have changed a great deal since the last time you looked, Captain Anderson.’

  ‘Yeah, well, some things never change. A scientist screwed up and now you want me to fix it.’

  ‘With all due respect, sir, a politician—your President—screwed up, and if it hadn’t been for a scientist, you’d still be dead. Sir.’

  ‘Commander Burnett,’ said Admiral Prado, pulling Julia out of her reverie. ‘You’re scheduled to report to HMAS Penguin tomorrow morning at 0800.’ Glancing at his watch, he added, ‘Seven hours from now. There you will meet Commander Julia Scott, who will brief you on your assignment to the top secret Temporal Project.’

  Burnett’s greying eyebrows twisted in confusion. Addressing Julia, he said, ‘Why not complete my briefing now?’

  ‘We will,’ she replied, ‘but if your history had not been tampered with, tomorrow morning you and I have not had his conversation.’

  Despite the dim light inside the car, she could clearly see Burnett’s gaze hovering between disbelief and comprehension. ‘Good God!’ he blurted. ‘You’re not … from now!’

  ‘Very good, Commander,’ said Prado. As he spoke, he opened a walnut-panelled drinks cabinet between the seats. ‘It took Tom and I somewhat longer to figure that out. Commander Scott, here, is almost ten years younger than our Commander Scott. We only learned of this … wrinkle … a few hours ago.’ Holding up a bottle of Perrier, he added, ‘Drink? I believe you take it with a lime twist?’

  Nodding dumbly, Burnett examined Julia’s face, searching for clues.

  ‘Tom?’ The Admiral continued to rummage around the cabinet. ‘Something harder? You’re going to need it.’

  ‘What do you mean, going to?’ Wilkie was still visibly shaken by Julia’s abrupt materialisation inside their limousine. ‘I needed it an hour ago. You wouldn’t have a cigarette stashed in there, would you?’

  ‘I’ve got too much blood on my hands already. I’m not going to contribute to your lung cancer.’ Withdrawing a small bottle of OP rum, Prado directed a questioning glance at Julia. ‘Commander?’

  ‘I’m on assignment, sir.’

  The Admiral hesitated a moment before replying. ‘Yes, of course you are.’

  ‘The Grandfather Paradox prevents time travellers from co-existing with their past selves,’ Julia continued, bringing the conversation back on track. ‘So unless we recruit teenagers as time jumpers, time travel is not normally possible.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ said Wilkie, accepting his glass from the Admiral. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ His expression soured when he added, ‘You’re going to try and explain multi-worlds again, aren’t you?’

  ‘Multiverse, Minister.’

  ‘Sounds like a crossword solution to “Sonnet”.’

  At that moment, Julia could cheerfully have reached across and throttled him. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of Elizabeth Browning.

  ‘Multiverse,’ Burnett echoed. ‘Isn’t that the quantum physics thing about an infinite number of parallel worlds? Different Earths where dinosaurs never became extinct, the Chicago Cubs won the 2006 World Series, or Hitler won World War II.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Julia inclined her head in agreement.

  ‘You’re not only from a different time,’ he said, his eyes widening in comprehension, ‘you’re also from one of those parallel worlds! So if you’re here … where’s our Commander Julia Scott?’

  Julia met his stare. Robert Burnett really was a quick study, which is why he’d been assigned to the Temporal Project. Normally, they only recruited dead people. Without volition, she found herself going back to her memories
.

  ‘So you picked me because I’m already dead? Great,’ Anderson quipped. ‘I get to be the first person in history to give more than one life for my country.’

  ‘No, Captain, not the first.’

  He stared at Julia a moment then settled for silence. It would take her years to learn the different nuances of his silences. This one was a grudging acknowledgement.

  ‘Our Commander Scott,’ the Admiral answered Burnett, forcing Julia to focus on the present, ‘is on the first temporal assignment in the history of our world.’ His lips twisted ruefully. ‘It seems that our time-travel technology is decades behind the times, as it were.’

  ‘Only on some worlds,’ Julia replied.

  Wilkie groaned and, closing his eyes, rubbed his temples.

  ‘For the sake of clarity,’ she added quickly, ‘let’s call your world Earth One. While your Julia Scott has successfully travelled back in time, she can’t occupy the same world as her younger self, so she was diverted to Earth Two.’

  ‘By whom?’ Burnett wondered.

  ‘By the law of temporal-dimensional, or TD, physics.’

  ‘Isn’t there a Julia Scott on Earth Two?’

  ‘There was. However, she and Robert Burnett were killed in 1991 when their F-14 was shot down over Iraq.’

  Burnett snorted and his lips twisted into a grim smile. ‘I seem to recall you and I had a few close shaves there, but for the grace of quantum physics, huh?’ His expression turned serious as he added, ‘So, you’re from some other Earth. How come you paid us folks over here on Earth One a visit?’

  The limousine took the corner sharply, prompting Wilkie to curse as the rum splashed over the lip and onto Julia’s hand. ‘Damned driver,’ Wilkie muttered. ‘Sorry.’ He yanked a starched white handkerchief from his coat pocket and offered it to her.

  Until then, Julia had managed to keep her hands hidden in the shadows. As she accepted the cloth all eyes fell to her fingers, three of which were still bandaged. The others looked like they’d been through a meat grinder. ‘Touch of frostbite,’ she explained, dabbing the alcohol. ‘Just minor.’

  Wilkie’s expression said otherwise. Julia folded her hands away while Admiral Prado answered Burnett’s question. ‘Commander Scott came here to warn us of the consequences.’

  ‘Consequences?’ Burnett’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Your Commander Scott will return here to Earth One because the second TD law ensures all jumpers will be returned to their Point of Origin,’ Julia explained.

  ‘Terrific,’ Anderson chirped happily, ‘ from the shit into the POO.’

  She’d never again been able to use the acronym. Clearing her throat, she continued. ‘She will discover that history has altered and assume she did something to mess up 1995.’

  ‘But she didn’t, right?’ Burnett shook his head. ‘Because she was on Earth Two. Which can only mean that someone from another parallel Earth must have been responsible for messing with our history.’

  Anderson shot her a childlike smile of delight, inordinately pleased with himself for figuring it out. Years of listening to her explanations had, despite his best efforts, leaked through his admittedly thick skull, and stuck. It was in those moments that she caught glimpses of the man, not her commanding officer. And they were beguiling.

  ‘Captain Anderson from Earth Two. Here on Earth One, Anderson was killed in the Gulf War in 1991. As with Julia Scott, this is his first time jump and he has no idea that he’s landed in 1995 in a parallel world. Anderson, too, will return to the present on Earth Two to find his history altered.’

  ‘Because of something our Commander Scott did.’ Burnett pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Gives a whole new meaning to the term “crossed wires”.’

  ‘Gives a whole new meaning to the term “howling migraine”,’ Minister Wilkie muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

  Julia stared at it.

  Months of scratching away at the ice, trying to dig out the Elthoran ship, then along comes Shadrak in his humongous great ship, hovers over the ice lake like an overdone Independence Day movie prop, sticks his butt-ugly red alien head out the More Than One Life force-field, and casually mentions there’s a little problem and would they mind coming home to fix it?

  ‘Sure, Shadrak, glad to see you too, buddy,’ Anderson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Didn’t think to drop by sooner, like maybe three friggin’ months ago when we got trapped on this frozen dirt-bag of a moon?’

  Shadrak’s nictitating membrane flickered myopically. ‘Why?’

  The alien’s cluelessness was so normal that Julia burst out laughing.

  ‘Gods,’ Anderson muttered, tossing one hand in the air and using the ice pick to climb out of the hole. ‘All the damned same. Never write, never call, never pull your butt out of the fire—or freezer—until they want you to fix something they screwed up!’ His voice grew louder with every word. ‘You’re worse than politicians! Well, what is it this time?’

  Shadrak shot Julia a blank look, then, using the colours of his multifaceted eyes, silently asked her why in the name of the Origins Captain Anderson was so cranky.

  ‘MREs,’ Julia replied with a knowing smile. ‘He hates the US Military-issued Meals Ready to Eat. Especially the ones with spinach.’

  ‘Do you realise what three goddamned months subsisting on a diet of spinach MREs, some funky cave mushrooms, and an alien polar bear does to a guy?’ Anderson demanded.

  Blame it on the mushrooms.

  ‘What was our Commander Scott’s mission?’ Burnett asked.

  Wilkie’s normally cherubic face darkened to an unhealthy puce. ‘Your President wants to stay in the White House, and our lap dog Prime Minister is all for it. I may be his Defence Minister, but that doesn’t mean I have to like where he’s taking us.’

  ‘I apologise if I’m repeating what you well know, but it needs to be placed in context,’ Julia explained. ‘In late 2007, John Howard was elected for a fifth term as Australia’s Prime Minister. Meanwhile, in the US, following Al Gore’s two acclaimed terms in office, George W. Bush mysteriously won the single electoral college vote to become the forty-fourth President, snatching victory from Senator Hillary Clinton, who won the popular vote hands down.’

  ‘As we’re all aware,’ Admiral Prado said, ‘the scandal surrounding rigged votes could result in President Bush being impeached. What you may not know, Commander Burnett, is that his team have devised a two-pronged strategy to prevent this. First, muckrake something from President Bill Clinton’s era in order to cut the Democrats—and, specifically, Hillary—off at the knees.’

  ‘And the second?’

  ‘The standard diversionary tactic employed by unpopular leaders,’ Julia said. ‘Start a war.’

  The scowl crossing Burnett’s face told everyone what he thought of that.

  The limo slowed and stopped, and Prado touched a button to lower the window. The guards on duty spent a few moments scanning the vehicle before allowing them to continue down Middle Head Road to a familiar, unremarkable stone building.

  As they drove, Wilkie smiled grimly, and said, ‘Even better. They found something that would do both. There was just one little hurdle to overcome.’

  ‘The evidence was destroyed in 1995,’ Julia said.

  The car came to a halt, and she waited for the Chief Petty Officer to open the door before extending the fold-up cane Shadrak had given her, and stepping outside. Pre-empting any comments, she added, ‘Broke my leg recently.’

  Prado frowned. ‘My doppelgänger sent you on an assignment with a gammy leg and frostbitten hands?’

  ‘Not … exactly.’ Shadrak had hardly given her time to shower and change.

  ‘You look like you got yourself caught up in an avalanche,’ Burnett said.

  The ’quake had hit with such force that it knocked her to the ground. Before she could stand, an agonising crunch ripped through her leg and tore up through her spine. The drill rig she’d bee
n packing had collapsed on her, pinning her to the ground. She screamed in agony and looked up—directly into hell. The moonquake had dislodged the leading edge of the ice sheet and it was tearing down the mountainside. They should have been well clear of it, but a chunk the size of a football stadium had broken off. The sheer force of the moving ice sheet had spun it around. It was headed for her and Anderson with the speed of a bullet.

  She was dead and she knew it, but Anderson was inside the Elthoran ship futzing around with the engines. She screamed into her comunit to warn him—but the comunit had gone, knocked off her head when she’d fallen.

  Julia craned her neck around. A heartbeat later, Anderson’s face appeared in the cockpit window. His gaze took in the wall of ice bearing down on them and then he saw her. In that one breathtaking moment, his raw emotions lay naked before her, a confession more compelling than any words in any language on any planet. His eyes screamed despair as his mouth cried a denial. She held out her hand in farewell just as the avalanche engulfed her.

  Julia was fast losing patience with herself. This entire train of thought was distracting, unprofessional, which is exactly why there were regulations about fraternisation. ‘I’m fine, sir,’ she said, meeting Prado’s intense gaze as he held the entryway door open for her.

  Two checkpoints and five armed guards later, they arrived at the preparation room. ‘Perfect,’ Julia said when she spied several Oklahoma City fire fighters’ uniforms on the rack.

  ‘The original plan was to send a team back to 1995, but Commander Scott insisted that going alone would minimise the odds of impacting history,’ Prado explained.

  While Burnett changed, Julia completed his mission brief.

  ‘Just one question,’ he said as he tugged on the jacket. ‘What makes you think Scott will listen to me? And what if I kill a roach or something, triggering a chain of events that changes history again?’

  ‘You’ll arrive three minutes earlier than Commander Scott, at a set of coordinates we have predetermined is safe,’ Julia replied, hoping that Shadrak had got it right this time. She set the numbers on the fob-watch-sized temporal device before attaching it to his dog tags. ‘There’s a minimum turnaround time of three hours. So long as you follow my instructions exactly, the timelines will be restored.’