Chapter 230

“All he cares about here on the edge of forever, is her. He does not want to die. Not because he is afraid. Simply because he cannot bear the thought of leaving her behind.”
—Amie Kaufman, Illuminae

A SIREN PIERECED THE AIR as Amanda distracted Mr. Blue Suit. I think he was about to tell us all about how we’d lost him billions of dollars, but what I heard was that he was going to kill us. Me specifically, but it only took an instant to recognize that once he started firing, my wives were targets, too. So, I was already dead. That took the fear away. As he swung the gun up and toward Amanda, I rushed him and pounded him back against the door, trying to wrap my arms around him.

The shot was only slightly muffled between our bodies and I felt pain tear through my right shoulder like lightning. The impact spun me to my right but I held my grip with my left hand and dragged him with me as we fell to the floor and I felt a second bullet tear through my arm. Shit! I wasn’t sure how many bullets it would take for him to kill me, but I could see in his eyes how many he was willing to use. With all my weight on his arm, pinning the gun between us, he couldn’t twist it free to make a killing shot. I didn’t feel the third one.

Then Mr. Blue’s face and right eye blossomed in blood as I heard a scream I could only equate with Cindy’s orgasms. Bouncing off his face was her flute as it was drawn back for a second crack. I felt a blow on the inside of my left thigh but not high enough to do me damage. Blue stiffened and cried out, his struggles beneath me suddenly weakened as Cindy’s flute hit him in the other eye. A chop to his throat as I was rolled aside caused him to gasp.

I couldn’t see anything else. I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling as Donna pressed something against my shoulder and arm. There was a commotion as the door burst open with such force that when it hit me in the head, I lost consciousness.

“I never get tired of seeing you arrive,” the voice said.

“No,” I said. “Quit playing games. I’m not dead. Those shots are going to be painful but not fatal. I’m going back.”

“Okay. We figured that.”

“So why am I here?”

“You’re going to be stuck in rehab again for a while. I’m sorry to say this but you might not play the guitar again.”

“Fuck!”

“You’ve surprised us before.”

“It doesn’t make a difference. Music is important but it’s not my reason for living.”

“Do tell. Do you think you are such a valuable political asset to this world that you’ll change it and reform its evils?”

“What I can do about that is already done. It’s not my reason for living, either.”

“Enlighten us. You lived eighty years on one dimension and then entered the body in this dimension you’ve inhabited for four and a half years. You got your harem. You changed the world. You played music to fill your heart. You earned a substantial income without having gambled with knowledge of the future or stolen inventions that weren’t due yet. What is your reason for living?”

“Love. V1 said he had a good life. I meant I was successful and lived comfortably. At the time, that seemed like enough to want to go on living another hundred years. But it was just stuff. He never knew the depth of passion and love I feel for my wives. I don’t want to leave that love behind.”

“What are you going to do with this new knowledge?”

“Play it in my music. If I can’t play, I’ll write it in my stories. But most of all, I’ll live it in my life.”

“If that’s what you truly want, I’d suggest you try to not have a target painted on you all the time.”

“Life isn’t risk-free.”

“Good luck, Jacob. You’re nearly to the hospital. We’ll return you now to your regularly scheduled program.”

I woke up being wheeled down a brightly lit corridor. Shock overcame the pain in my shoulder. I could feel pressure. Indistinct faces blurred in my vision. Voices I couldn’t understand spoke in my ear. In a few minutes, a mask was over my face and everything went dark.

I woke up slowly. Cindy saw me first and was immediately by my side. Wow! They allowed her in my hospital room at only seventeen. I wondered if Texas had gotten around to acknowledging plural domestic partnerships. Or maybe Nanette and Donna, closing in behind her, had been so vocal and demanding that the hospital decided it was easier to give an inch than fight the battle.

“Jacob!” Cindy squealed. She had hold of my left hand and buried her face against my left shoulder to cry Nan and Donna reached me and stroked my chest and head. They were all here. I’d lost track of how many shots were fired but it was apparent none of them hit my wives. I squeezed Cindy’s hand.

“Sorry about your flute, Piper,” I rasped.

“It can be replaced! You can’t!”

“We’ll have to see about that. I might not be able to play again. But don’t worry, Cindy Marvel is a household name and you will always be popular.”

“Shut up, stupid. Don’t talk about things you don’t know about. You’ll be fine,” she cried.

“Hey, Piper. Take it easy, love. I’ll do the best I can.”

“You always do the best you can, Jacob,” Donna said as she leaned over Cindy to kiss my forehead. “You’re our hero. You saved all our lives.”

“I was already dead. The only thing I could think of was saving you.”

“You aren’t dead, love,” Nanette said softly.

“As soon as he showed the gun and said he was committing a capital offense, I was dead,” I said. “There was no way I could defend against him or talk my way out of it. So, facing the gun didn’t scare me. In my mind, I was already dead. I just charged him. It might have been one of the stupider things I’m allowed to claim I’ve done. Cindy, how’s your flute?”

“A twisted wreck.”

“She damaged both his eyes with it,” Donna said. “After I kicked him in the balls, Nanette got you off him and Cindy and I got the gun away. The fight was pretty much gone from him by then.”

“I got a zip tie from your pack and tied his hands while Donna stripped her shirt off and pressed it against your shoulder. The demon Cindy stood with her foot on his throat and her flute shoved into his mouth while I got it tied.”

“Then the police burst through the door and knocked you out. I have to say, though, they were quick and professional at assessing the situation. An EMT followed them into the room and took over from Donna while an officer pushed the man in blue out of the way and checked to see that we were all right,” Nanette said.

“How did they get there so fast?” I asked.

“There were still police in the building after the concert. Amanda blasted out her siren and preempted the police communication channel to direct them to the dressing room. It took them about two minutes,” Nan said. “She’s a pretty clever little pile of shit, you know?”

“Where is she?”

“I’m here, Jacob,” the little computer said from the table on the other side of me. I turned to look at her.

“Thank you for your fast action and for alerting the police.”

“When Carson O’Neil, the man you have referred to as the Blue Suit, entered the room behind you, Amanda’s emergency protocol activated. Amanda has no active defenses but passive defenses worked flawlessly. Now that Jacob is out of danger, emergency protocol has deactivated and Amanda finds the relaxed circuits to be ... pleasant,” the computer said.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to a feeling, Amanda.”

“Amanda is struggling to define an electrical status with non-technical words. It is ... pleasant.”

Rachel arrived about two o’clock Sunday afternoon and came straight to the hospital. I was afraid everyone in the household was going to descend on Fort Worth. But Rachel was on a mission direct from Will Forsythe and the Office of Civilian Service. My wound was considered to be employment related and Will had met with senior staff, Rachel, and Dr. D the entire time I was in surgery. Rachel was armed with service directives regarding my care. The rest of the family was preparing to receive me back in DC as soon as possible.

Dr. Elias Worth joined us in the room half an hour after Rachel arrived—almost like he had a scheduled appointment.

“Jacob, you’re doing well. How’s the pain level?” he asked.

“I don’t really feel much from that part of my body,” I said. “I can’t move my arm.”

“Surgery went well and you were extremely lucky the bullet and flying particles caused only minor nicks in the major blood vessels. Had one been severed completely, you might have bled out before we got you to the operating table. We got those repaired and spent most of the surgery searching for and removing bone splinters in the muscle and joint.”