[Episode 200726] [Episode 200726]Meeting Julia for the first time in three years was just as wonderful the second time around. As I saw her again in the graveyard, pointing her gun at me, I was (yet again) struck by how perfect she was. I chose to let the conversation drift in much the same way it had before.
“It was raining that day, as well.”
“So you didn’t come because of the rain?” I asked with a smirk.
“I was supposed to kill you. It was all set up. If I had… I would have been free.”
“Freedom” and “the syndicate” weren’t really two concepts that went hand in hand. If you got involved in the latter, the chances of ever truly experiencing the former again were painfully slim. Still, I got Julia’s point. “So why didn’t you kill me? Why did you choose to be hunted?”
“Why did you love me?” Again, Julia was right on the mark. Allowing myself to fall in love with her had been a serious lapse in judgment on my part, especially since I’d seen firsthand what Vicious was capable of doing to those he felt had slighted him. Julia walked towards me, and, as before, she threw her arms around my neck and buried her head in my shoulder. “Let’s just go away somewhere. Escape. Vanish. Go somewhere where there’s no one else. Just the two of us.”
“The solar system’s a lot smaller than it used to be, Julia. There’s not a lot of places where there is ‘no one else,’ and where there’s someone else, the syndicate’s not too far behind.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t try.”
“No. It doesn’t. But where do we go first?”
“We should go to Annie’s. She can help us get away from the elders, at least until we’ve left Mars.”
This was it. There would be no more “going along” with what the dream had told me. We’d gone to Annie’s in the dream, and “We’re up against something worse than the elders, Julia.”
“What do you mean?”
“Vicious.”
“But… but Vicious is dead. His execution was supposed to be this morning.”
“That’s right. It was supposed to be this morning, or at least that’s what the elders probably thought.”
“Spike, you’re not making any sense.”
It was then that I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to learn that Vicious’ extremely hostile takeover had ultimately been successful until Annie told me while she was dying. I had to find some way to explain how I “knew” what was going on, and my best bet was to disguise my certainty as a highly educated guess. “Do you really think Vicious didn’t see this coming? You know him as well as I do, Julia. He’s ruthless, brutal, and ambitious, sure, but he’s not impulsive. He’s cold and calculating, planning for as many possibilities as he can see. They caught him in the elders’ chamber with some of his underlings, right? Why would he do that? His presence wasn’t necessary for the plan’s success, and its failure would only make escape impossible. Vicious isn’t nearly stupid enough to do something like that. He went into that room expecting to be caught.”
“So the execution…”
“…is where the real coup attempt is going to happen—or rather, has already happened, if I’m guessing right.”
“So what do we do?”
“We don’t go to Annie’s, because Vicious will expect us to go there.”
“You’re certain he’ll come after us?”
“You didn’t kill me, and I didn’t die. That means both of us screwed up his planning and manipulating. Has he ever forgiven someone for doing that?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Besides, he wants a dramatic showdown with me, and I doubt he’ll have any qualms about using you to get what he wants.”
“A dramatic showdown?”
“He told me he wants to wake me up. Nobody uses the ‘life is a dream’ metaphor in normal conversation—it’s always used to cast a literary air over reality.”
“But you use that metaphor all the time.”
“Exactly.” I decided not to explain any further, hoping that she’d drop the subject. Still, literary or not, the dream metaphor was pretty accurate. My life has always felt like a dream: a series of improbable episodes seasoned with liberal doses of impossibility, with occasional bits of normalcy to put it all in perspective.
Fortunately, this seemed to be enough. “So what do we do?”
“Like you said, we run. We can figure out the destination later. Right now we just need to get off of Mars.”
“How?” This was a problem—the Swordfish II didn’t really have room for more than one person. Not for a long interplanetary trip, anyway. Julia, however, came up with her own suggestion. “What about your friends? Perhaps they could help us.”
“Your suggesting we hitch a ride on the Bebop? Two problems with that. First, I’m not certain that it’s in any condition to fly at the moment. And second, I don’t want to drag Jet and Faye any further into this than I have to.”
“Spike, if Vicious really is running the Red Dragons now, then he’ll come after them anyway.”
“Good point… looks like I need to contact them no matter what we do. Let’s get to the spaceport. My ship’s in the parking lot there. If you can tolerate the cramped space for a while, we should be able to find the Bebop.”
“Right.”
Thirty minutes later, we had arrived at the parking lot of the Tharsis Spaceport, and the Swordfish II was in sight. Still, although it seemed that the metaphorical coast was clear, there was still a wide expanse of asphalt to cross, and I didn’t want any more targets than necessary. “Stay here,” I told Julia as I exited her car.
“All right.”
As I walked over to my ship, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had forgotten something important—very important. I tried to put that nagging feeling behind me by focusing on where exactly we’d be going next. If the dream was correct (and so far, it had been), then the Bebop was currently down in the area around Laughing Bull’s hut—a vast expanse of red desert that hadn’t really changed all that much once Mars had been terraformed.
My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a large explosion. I turned and saw exactly what I had forgotten: right before the gunfight started, Julia’s car had exploded, apparently the result of a time bomb. I’d like to say that I ran forward and held her in my arms as she died again, but I knew that she was in the car when it went off, and given that the blazing shell that remained only barely resembled an automobile, I quite frankly didn’t want to see what Julia looked like, assuming she was still recognizable. Besides, if I ran toward her, I’d make myself an easy target for any snipers who might be nearby (an entirely real possibility given Vicious’ meticulousness).
I had tried to change what was going to happen, to save her life, and I’d completely and utterly failed. I’d been given a second chance, and it had been completely wasted: all I’d gotten for my trouble was the opportunity to see the woman I loved die before my eyes again, with me standing on the sidelines helpless to save her.
I hadn’t cried since I was a kid, and to be honest, this time was no exception. I think I really wanted to, though.
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(Posted Fri, 25 Jan 2008 19:53)
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