“Grandma?” Eddie said. “Grandma’s alive?”
Eddie2 stared at him in the mirror. “Yeah. What, yours isn’t?”
Eddie slumped down against the front of the truck bed.
“Wait!” Eddie2 shouted from the cab. “What happened?”
“She died, asshole.”
Eddie sat by himself, hands dangling off his knees. To his right were two Rosas, to his left two Trevors. In the cab behind him were two pickle-eating Regs, and one son of a bitch who should be him, but who had a truck and a grandma. Even with himself he was alone.
They drove for hours, mostly off road, through fields with corn that was already knee high, even though it was no place close to the Fourth of July yet. The Trevors took apart the phones of the people who lived on this Earth so they couldn’t be traced. “They insert any chips in your ankles or anything?” Trevor asked. Trevor2 shook his head. His hair was long on one side, buzzed on the other—if you averaged it out, he was just like Trevor. Except for the eyeliner. Trevor kept shooting sideways glances at him.
They were driving east. The sun gave them a long, long look as it set, rays angling lower until they snagged on the back of the bed door. It was a relief, Eddie thought, when the sun went down. It saved explaining to yourself why you couldn’t look it in the eye.
They stopped twice at gas stations and paid in cash. The second time the Regs bought them prewrapped sandwiches and a flat of water bottles, and a jar of pickles for themselves. Eddie2 picked up a case of root beer, too. He ripped the end off the box, grabbed two cans, and tossed one to Eddie before he headed back to the cab.
“Let’s switch drivers,” Reg2 said.
“I’m good,” Eddie2 said.
Reg2 held his hand out for the keys. “No need to do it all yourself.”
“I got it,” he said, stepping past him.
“Eddie,” Reg2 said.
“Save your breath,” Eddie said. “He’s not gonna let you drive his truck.”
Eddie2 grinned at him. “Listen to this guy,” he said, pointing with a can. “He’s as smart as he is good looking.” Then he swung back into the driver’s seat.
Reg2 sighed and walked around to the passenger side, and they got back under way. The wind that streamed over the cab and buffeted them was cool. The Rosas pulled the tarp up over their legs. Soon they were all under the stiff canvas, shoulders sticking out. They could hear the Regs murmuring to each other in the cab, their conversation punctuated by the snap of pickles.
Eddie2 took back roads, staying off the highways. The truck was a solid vehicle, well made, and well maintained—a sturdy ride as it bounced along the roads toward home. The moon was near full—a basketball that needed inflation. The Trevors dozed sitting up, and the Rosas lay curled, holding each other like sisters. Eddie sat upright, staring at the moon. The night smelled of wild roses and turned earth and home.
He didn’t know he’d fallen asleep until they slowed down for the curve by the Meyerholtzes’ farm. He stood up, legs spread for balance, his left hand holding on through the open driver’s window. All around him were the fields of home, corn and soybeans glistening in the night, their roots sunk into the soil of this alien world. It occurred to him for the first time that people imagine aliens as little green men because they want it that way.
They turned up the lane and the house was dark, but its familiar outline made his heart contract. The yard light by the barn was on. A raccoon scurried across the road in front of them, and Eddie2 slowed. Fifty yards farther a badger’s sharp nose poked out of the wild roses in the ditch, then retreated.
“You okay?” Rosa had scooted up and was sitting by his ankles.
“I just saw an alien badger,” he said. “That should be a movie. Baaadgers in spaaaaace!”
Rosa just looked at him.
“Grandma is dead and alive,” he said. Screw Schrödinger.
Eddie2 brought the truck to a gentle stop close to the barn, where oaks already in full leaf would shield it from aerial view. They climbed out, yawning and stretching. Unless he was a lying bastard, Eddie was about to see his grandma.
It felt formal, like they should go around to the front porch, but Eddie2 led them to the kitchen door. His key scraped unnaturally loud in the dark, and the door swung inward before he could turn the knob. He looked back at Eddie, silent, then stepped into the kitchen.
“Eddie?” his grandma’s voice said.
They filed in. The linoleum by the back door had been replaced—it was gray instead of the old green with white streaks. Grandma’s barn coat hung in the coat closet, and on the shelf above it sat her sun hat, floral gardening gloves, and helmet. Eddie ran his finger over the pencil marks by the door—his heights, with the dates marked in her neat engineer’s printing.
Grandma stood in the kitchen, her gray hair flowing onto the shoulders of her pink cotton bathrobe. She ignored the two middle-aged black men, the mismatched Trevors, and the identical girls in her kitchen. She looked back and forth at the Eddies, but when she spoke it was to the boy she’d never seen before.
“Eddie.”
She had recognized his Eddiness. He felt somehow vindicated.
“This is going to require some explanation,” she said. “Right now.” She moved to the counter and leaned casually against it. He knew what was behind her—the knife block. She wasn’t overreacting, but she was thinking. She was ready. God, he missed her.
“Eleanor,” Reg2 said, “IA developed a bacteria that alters the growth habits of plants. It causes cancer, but we think it may have some potential.”
Grandma snorted.
“They’re hoping it mutates in a few generations and we can find a strain that causes rapid growth in plants—but not in humans.”
This time Reg snorted.
“But because of pollination and bees and just the wind,” Reg2 said, “it can’t be contained. If it’s anywhere, it’s everywhere.”
“I heard the botanists were up to something,” she said, “but I never got the details.”
“That’s it,” Reg2 said. “We’ve been looking for a world with mammals, but not humans, to test it. Let it evolve. Bring it back home and use it safely.”
Grandma was listening to him, but she was looking at Eddie.
“You’re from another world, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” His voice was husky, but he couldn’t help it. “They were going to release the bacteria there.”
Grandma sucked in her breath. “On a world with humans? Identical humans? With you?” She shook her head. “And that’s it, isn’t it? In my kitchen.” She pointed.
Trevor tightened his grip on the case and nodded. Grandma put her palms together and tapped her fingertips, a gesture Eddie had almost forgotten. “Set it by the door, would you? While I think this through.” Trevor put the case down. “Are you hungry?” Grandma said.
“Yes,” Eddie said, with her grandson and the Regs.
Grandma lit a candle and set it on the table. Then she started cracking eggs, and the kitchen smelled of egg and sulfur from the match. Eddie ran his thumb over a corner of the table and watched her for a moment, then walked to the second cabinet to the right of the sink and pulled out the blue bowl and handed it to her. She took it from him with a little nod.
“Thank you. What’s your world like?”
“You’re dead there.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Crap. Something spectacular, I hope?” She got a package of sausage links out of the refrigerator.
“Stroke,” he said. “A couple months ago.”
She looked at the sausage in her hand, then put the cast iron skillet on the stove and flipped the gas on. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah.”
She flipped the links into the pan. “I don’t believe that for a minute.” And then she hugged him. She was soft and warm and just the right shape, but one scent in the mix was off, some different brand of lotion that told him she’s not yours.
She pulled back and held his biceps while she looked in his eyes, and then kissed his forehead. He sat down and didn’t look at anybody, because crap, she was Grandma, and he didn’t want to lose it.
Reg2 explained about Reg and his trainees bursting into Reg2’s classroom. Then Reg told the same story, including the lack of root beer on the egg craft. That made her smile.
“Excuse me,” Rosa said when he was done. “We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I’m …”
“Rosa Hayashi,” Grandma said. “Yes, I know.”
They looked at each other.
“How did you know …”
“I got the e-mail,” Grandma said. “About the new trainees.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize they sent an e-mail,” Rosa said.
“On our world, we called our parents,” Trevor said.
“I got it from my work account,” Grandma said.
None of them understood that.
“Grandma’s retired now, but they still send her the general e-mails,” Eddie2 said. “The ones that go to everybody.”
“Um,” Rosa said. “May I ask what you do?”
Grandma turned, holding a pancake flipper in one hand. “Why, I was the CPE-XD.”
They looked at Reg.
“The Chief Program Engineer for Extra Dimensions,” Grandma said. “I ran the mission from an integration perspective—communication, troubleshooting, things like that.”
“She was in charge of the whole damn egg,” Reg2 said. “The entire mission.”
“I guess your grandma didn’t do that,” her Eddie said. “I mean, since you guys can’t fly extradimensionally.”
“Ooh,” Grandma said, rolling the sausage links over. “What did I do there? Was I a Landing and Recovery Director? They didn’t let me be a pilot, did they? My eyes weren’t good enough here.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say. “Um, you were an engineering assistant at a firm in Bedford.”
“Bedford? Why didn’t I work for NASA? I can’t imagine I didn’t want to.”
“Because—you’re—female,” he said. “I don’t know how you got promoted here, but you didn’t get promoted there.”
“Well, damn it,” Grandma said. “And now I’m dead?”
“Yeah.”
She grunted, and they were quiet while she put the food on the table. Eddie2 laid out plates, and shot Eddie a look when he got up to help. But Eddie needed him to know that he knew where everything was. Grandma’s kitchen? This was stuff he knew. Her grandson might be Eddie, but damn it, he was, too.
“Reg, do you believe this?” she asked once they were seated. “It requires believing that Sensenbrenner would commit mass murder.”
Reg2 picked at his eggs. “Yeah, I do. Guess it’s hard to believe that a guy this sharp would lie to me,” he said, looking at Reg. “Also, they have the bacteria.”
“Yeah,” Grandma said. “We need to get rid of that.”
“That’s why we came to Oolitic,” Reg2 said. “We have to keep it out of Sensenbrenner’s hands. We can’t let it go back to their world—or get released here.”
“We can hole up here, ditch that case, and plan—but not forever,” Reg said.
Grandma nodded.
They ate quietly, the candle sending a soft orange glow across their faces. The Trevors reached for the salt at the same moment, and then pulled their hands back to let the other go first. The four Doctors Clayborn had raised them well. Rosa glanced at herself, got Rosa2’s agreement, and said, “Maybe we should take an inventory of our skills. If we know what we can do, it may suggest what we should do.”
“I can fly,” Reg said. “And I know the personnel and facilities.”
“Roger that,” their Reg said, spooning himself some more eggs.
“I’m pretty good with mechanical things,” Eddie2 said, and Eddie nodded.
“I know first aid,” Trevor said, “and I make the ladies swoon.”
“So Trevor has the best imagination,” Eddie said. Eddie2 gave him an appreciative grin. Finally someone who got his humor.
“You’re hurt,” Grandma said, catching a look at Eddie’s arm.
“Just a flesh wound,” he said.
She stood up, taking her plate to the counter as she went, and got a Band-Aid from the lazy Susan with the spices. The Band-Aid was covered with little rocket ships—that made him smile. She pulled the tabs off and smoothed it, being careful not to press on the cut. Then she kissed it.
He stood up fast, his chair scraping behind him. “I’m gonna shoot some hoops,” he said, not looking at anybody.
“It’s three a.m.,” Trevor2 said.
“Perfect.”