Piece Simul ✔

Chapter 61- Russ- Another Earth

Twelve years. It was a boon.

Russ believed this as she drifted from where she had first arrived in Pedra Branca. Initially, all she had seen was a vast ocean lapping against a darkened sky. She hadn't known yet that the small outcrop of white rocks was actually an island of east Singapore.

She shadowed a fishing boat, noting the date on the interfaces. 2070.

While aboard the S.S. Delaney, the journey had tossed them ten years into the future for the start of the 2072 launch.

In considering the possibilities, Russ imagined herself erasing the need for the mission. She would warn the crew of what was to come.

Twelve years. It was a joke.

Though she had achieved the required meditative state, Russ still had no clue how to impart ideas to others. Genly hadn't been clear on how to do so, and she had been too busy trying to perfect astral projection.

If she couldn't share the formula hidden in her mind, the mission was useless. But, she wanted to try anyway.

~*~

"You'll be able to manipulate thoughts, even impulses."

In this way, she would essentially be able to move things. To change things. Genly had assured Russ of this ability, but putting it into reality seemed impossible.

While in the astral state, time passed differently. Or, at least, that's how it seemed. Since she didn't need to sleep, Russ often lost track of which day it was. Time meant nothing. Days, weeks, and months disappeared through a sieve. She experienced a month in what felt like hours.

Russ knew she was wasting time, but couldn't help it. Infiltrating minds was harder than Genly made it seem.

For hours, she floated on the pier near a young woman. She was reading, and never looked up. A few yards away, patrons came and went from the ice cream cart, fetchingly adorned with glitter and shades of pink, covered under the shade of a sunny yellow umbrella.

With all her mental strength, Russ compelled the dark-haired youth to get up and order a double-scoop of rocky road. The girl flipped the pages of a sci-fi novel. Russ passed ineffectually arms through the bent head. The girl read on.

Russ gave up. It wasn't her first attempt at impulse manipulation, nor was it her last.

She stayed in Singapore for nearly a year, trying her best to change the minds of anyone she came across. Soon, Russ worried she had made a mistake in volunteering. What did she know about people?

Shoulda been Tiptree.

That got her thinking that she could visit her friend. If anything, it would lessen the loneliness. She hoped.

Using her internal compass, she focused on an image of Tiptree: petite, porcelain-skinned, and always a quick smile.

With that, a soft tug transported Russ across an ocean, through vast fields, to a eerily quiet city. The towers and buildings were familiar, but before she could place them, she was pulled through thick walls and into an apartment.

Two women talked and laughed at a dinner table. Their backs were facing Russ, but she knew one of the voices well.

She inspected the pictures on the wall: smiling faces at various parks and pools. Tiptree had a full life, and from the balcony, she also had quite the view.

In the distance, red and blue arches stretched over a bridge. Russ recognized the landmark, as she had seen it several times during training, and had thought about it during launch.

Tiptree was stationed in Daejeon. It seems so obvious. Of course she would be near the KARI Institute. The mission was less than a year away.

However, it didn't seem right. Russ remembered Tiptree mentioning how she had never lived in South Korea. She had been a U.S. dorm brat, like Russ. The only time she had spent in the city was before launch.

From the cozy dinner, life through pictures, and other context clues, Tiptree and Kass lived here, in Daejeon.

Russ waited a day, intent on following Tiptree to training. But after the weekend, Tiptree drove to Chungham National University. From the car, she donned headphones and walked to a suite of offices, the words Anthropology Department stenciled on the glass doors.

An internal alarm sounded inside Russ. She quelled the panic, as it wasn't helpful. Maybe Tiptree was doing research.

The rest of the crew was training. Had to be. The S.S. Delaney was set to take off a year from now. When Russ visited the KARI training rooms, they were empty.

Next, she pictured Forster. Like before, she transported to him.

The scene, though muted with the dark fog of Russ's astral state, screamed serenity and beauty.  Mountain peaks brushed the sky, with hills rolling to meet a large river.

Forster and two others hefted backpacks while huffing through face masks. One slight figure complained about the heat, and the other chastised her, offering water if she shushed. Forster cursed non-stop, a grin evident underneath his cloth face mask.

"I don't think anyone else is on the trail with us, Chabon" he said, peeling the mask from his sweaty face.

One of his companions nodded, copying him.

"Nadine, you're good," she said, and the other girl removed her mask.

From pictures, Russ knew them as Forster's wife and daughter. Based on what she'd heard, unverified rumors but still, Chabon slept around on him and Nadine had joined a green-eyed sympathizer group.

Their family-friendly hike seemed as off as Tiptree's apartment in South Korea. Things weren't what they should be, and she had an alarming suspicion that things were off everywhere.

Russ visited the other crew members and found nothing good:

Samuel was married to Rotsberg.

Guin, aka Estrenar, was a nurse.

No one was on path to leave, or even seemed aware of the need to do so. In fact, the day of the launch came and went, but no ships left Earth's orbit.

By shadowing Rotsberg, Russ learned the mission had been delayed indefinitely due to lack of volunteers. The failure of the previous missions had convinced the public nothing could be done. A cure was never going to happen, so why waste time and effort when there were plenty of other concrete issues to deal with.

A strange curiosity drove her to visit her past self.

"Damn orbital compressor!" past-Russ ground out, face obscured as she worked a torque wrench under the ship's compressor.

Astral-Russ watched as past-Russ patched what she could for the day before shoving off from her shift. The inside of the moon-running ship was empty, as it had been before Boomer had figured out bots were cheaper, and quieter.

Past-Russ stopped at a bar for a drink. She turned down a friendly offer from a stranger, donned her mask, and quietly staggered home.

Home, as Astral-Russ suspected, was the dank, depressing, sparsely occupied adult dormitory.

Instead of leading a happy life sans-training for their mission, past-Russ was still scrubbing hulls and replacing electrical on the Instigator. And still returning to the adult dorms after work.

Everyone is happy except for me.

Even Jason had a girlfriend. One that Kathar had pre-approved, but he looked content.

Had she cared about herself, this discrepancy might have bothered her. Instead, she decided to dispense with the distractions and get on with finishing the mission.

So long as she imparted the cure to someone from Samuel's list, this alternative life wouldn't matter.

Right?