Peter walked through a glowing portal and joined a crowd of versions of himself from alternate dimensions. He never regretted his life choices, but finding himself surrounded by heroes with his face made him feel small and insignificant. Nobody ever forced him to make a choice that saved the world. And he didn’t have amazing powers or great responsibilities. Feeling overwhelmed, he found a quiet office to hide in for a few minutes. Inside, he stumbled upon their mysterious host’s computer, and the real reason their host had brought them there. That was how Peter Spiderman, CPA saved the multiverse.
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The coaster is the last of its kind still in operation. Enthusiasts like myself come from all over the world to ride it. I’d driven an entire day to reach the whitewashed behemoth.
As I wait in line, I read the plaques boasting of the many times the ride was torn down and rebuilt, accompanied by sepia-toned photographs of boardwalks long since lost to condo developers.
Finally, I board the train. As the safety bar comes down and the ride jitters to life, I feel a thrill of excitement.
They just don’t make them like The Ship of Theseus anymore.
When I spot the quadruped circling my campsite, I almost mistake it for a sheep in the gloom. It doesn’t have the distinct hopping gait of a hunting drone, and the wide wooly frame and pointed face are certainly evocative. But there can’t be any livestock left, and the AI Overlords wouldn’t create anything so whimsical, would they? As it trots closer, I see that the head is an antique white bakelite telephone with a rotary dial. A mass of curly plastic-coated beige wire wrapping the body like wool compounds the effect When it sees me, the phone starts ringing.
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The airship kept a pair of cats as rat catchers. They did a passable job but spent most of their time lounging in the sun on the top deck or begging passengers for scraps. Fed up, the captain hired an artificer to build him an automaton to do the job. The gleaming steel machine was three feet tall and bipedal with cat-like embellishments. It whirred through the ship with maximum efficiency. The cats hated it. The captain was satisfied that he’d replaced them until he won a transport contract from the Mousefolk empire. It turned out the AI had limitations.
She was a collector of retro tech, and her latest acquisition was too good a deal to pass up. The CRT monitor was dirt cheap, but that didn’t surprise her. Most folks wanted bulky items out of their storage spaces and never stopped to consider their value. She didn’t expect the face staring back at her when she plugged it in. The pale girl reached out from behind the screen. She put her own hand against the glass reflexively. The ghost could not remember how long she had been trapped in the dark. Perhaps this girl could break the spell.
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Every year on his birthday, he would buy himself a mirror. He took each one home and spent an hour staring into his reflection. First, he’d memorize the person he was at that moment. Then he’d meditate on where he’d been and was going in life. Then he would carefully wrap the mirror, label it precisely, and store it in his attic. His friends believed it to be an affectation. But whenever he felt lost and directionless, he’d climb to the attic and unwrap a mirror. He would ask the ghost of his former self that lived inside for advice.
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The Earth was dying. His solution was to escape: Find a new world and colonize it. He found a parallel Earth and jumped sideways, like changing the dial on a radio. He found himself in a beautiful, lush forest. He smelled fresh, clean air for the first time in weeks. He heard birds singing for the first time in years. It felt like home, even if the leaves were pink instead of green. He’d planned to steal this planet, but as he walked through the forest, he knew he couldn’t do it. Instead, he went home and saved his world.
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“Are you sure you’re alright?” The sorceress asked from atop his back. The demon gritted his fangs. It was the fifth time that morning. “Yes, Mistress.” “Because we could take a break if you’re tired.” “Does my mistress require rest?” “No.” “Then we continue,” he declared. He beat his wings a little faster. “If you’re sure.” “You summoned me, Mistress.” He had been serving mortals for hundreds of years, corrupting their ambitions for his evil ends. His scheme was still millennia from completion. But summoners today were so irritatingly polite he was tempted to destroy this planet and start again.
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When it all became overwhelming, the young witch rode her broom out of the smog and landed on the breakers. From the barrier islands, she could see the whole waterfront and the towers rising behind them, glowing like some enormous pile of sparkling treasure. She could’ve had her pick of apprenticeships back in the villages, but she’d chosen to study in the city instead. City magic felt so different. It was all lightning and metal, bustling and unrelenting. The pace was overwhelming at times. But she came out here to regain perspective. Someday, she would make it to the top.
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The young hero knelt before the goddess and received a boon. “From this day forth, you may fashion any object you require from the living trees around you. Use this ability to build bridges, make tools, or construct defenses. Go and save the world from the Great Evil.” The goddess sent the hero on his way, and soon he defeated the rampaging army of monsters. But even as peace spread across the land, she began to hear desperate prayers from her worshipers again. The world had somehow become overrun with giant wooden phalluses. The goddess sighed and recalled her boon.
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Hugh J. O'Donnell 