Dualistic Dimensions: Science Fiction Romance Read online

  DUALISTIC DIMENSIONS

  Science Fiction Romance

  Oliver R Cohen

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Copyright © 2017 Oliver R. Cohen

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictions manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  I stood at the head of a long table, surveying the full conference room. Most would be intimidated by the rows of business men staring at them from their seats, at the way they all seemed to have the same hair, the same suit, the same hard stare, but not me. Their attention was wolfish, their eyes roving, but they weren’t the ones in charge here. I was.

  “As I’ve said, my vision for the future of your company is one you’ll want to hear.” I let my voice snap out to catch their attention.

  “Then get to it,” said the man at the other end of the table. I’d only met with Mr. Tanaka, of the Tanaka Corporation, once before, but it was immediately clear how traditional he was in his thinking, how reluctant he was to adapt to change. In preparing this presentation, I knew I’d have to take him by the hand and lead him down the path of resistance. “My time is valuable and I only came here because I’ve heard glowing recommendations.”

  Tailor made suit, bold red tie, expensive watch. I studied Mr. Tanaka from across the room. He liked being in charge, and he liked making his power known. And judging by the crowd in this conference room, it certainly was known—his entourage worshipped him. They’d never say a word against him. But whether that was because of his impeccable business sense or because he only surrounded himself with those who’d say what he wanted them to say, I’d have to observe him more to decide. Either way, this was where we were going to butt heads.

  I continued with my presentation, showing him how the advertising game worked in this century. Throughout, I watched Tanaka. I watched the way he relaxed in his seat, the way he almost seemed to smile. His resolve was crumbling under the weight of my proposal; I just hoped it would crumble enough, after the months I’d spent on this project. Months of research, of trial and error, of taking Tanaka’s traditional values and fusing them with today’s world of technology and social media.

  When I’d finished, I waited for the response, chin tilted defiantly. A short lock of blonde hair had fallen into my face, but I wasn’t going to fidget and break the spell I’d cast with my words.

  There was silence in the room. Everybody watched Mr. Tanaka, waiting for him to say what was on his mind. To them, probably, his face was a blank slate. To me, he was an open book. The imperceptible curl of his lip was still there, a good indication things were going my way.

  “Ms. Anderson, as you could probably tell, I was hesitant to consider walking away from my own company doing my advertising. But I’ve known for a while now, it’s time for a change; their pitch is getting stale.” He hesitated before continuing, and I waited with bated breath. “I do believe your proposal is worth taking a chance on.”

  This contract was going to be worth millions. Tanaka had reason to be celebrating, popping a bottle of champagne, but his tone was a professional monotone. He didn’t even crack a smile. I tried not to deflate under the lack of praise. After all, this wasn’t quite what I’d expected when I envisioned this moment. And after the long hours and late nights I’d poured into this moment, I’d envisioned it a lot.

  “You won’t regret this decision.” Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. I’d worked hard for this, yes, but to see it actually come to fruition… It didn’t feel real. I noticed my hands shaking and I clasped them behind my back before smiling at Mr. Tanaka.

  “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see about that,” Tanaka said. “I have other places to be, Ms. Anderson, but make sure you send over a draft of the contract before the end of the day.”

  “Of course. I’ll send it over with a messenger,” I said.

  Mr. Tanaka nodded his thanks, and when he looked away, I squeezed my eyes shut against the migraine throbbing at my temples. I’d never really had one before, but I recognized the signs. Showing weakness in front of Tanaka, though, was something I wouldn’t do. I forced my eyes back open.

  “Take your time going over the details,” I continued. “A contract like this shouldn’t be rushed, but I think we’ll be able to start this campaign as early as next week with online advertisements, and from there, we’ll see about moving on to billboard ads and television spots. But just wait. Soon, this new energy drink will be the talk of the town and your company stock will shoot to the top.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Mr. Tanaka’s lips. “You seem so sure about this, Mr. Anderson. I admire that.”

  I wasn’t sure, not really. Not as sure as I acted. But instead of voicing that, I said, “Of course I am. I don’t make predictions; I make promises and I always follow through.”

  “I don’t know why, but I do believe you.” Tanaka bowed and I followed to show respect. He looked relatively young despite his massive success, but he had lines around his eyes and white hair that came from years of sacrificing personal life for business. There was no wedding band on his finger, which didn’t surprise me. You didn’t get where someone like he was by maintaining a healthy work-life balance.

  It was the wrong time to be thinking about it, maybe, but I realized that at this rate, I’d end up like him, working my fingers to the bone to earn a position that, thirty years from now, won’t matter to me. Won’t matter as much as the things I’d sacrificed, at least. It was weird knowing that this was where I was headed but also being unable to stop.

  “You really have so much faith in this product?” Tanaka asked.

  “Of course I do. Your drink is like getting the ultimate high without drugs. No nasty side effects, no jitters, no feeling of falling hard after the drink wears off. This is going to revolutionize how to stay awake, and my campaign is going to make people want to reach for your can over any other.”

  There was an actual smile on Mr. Tanaka’s face now, and he nodded.

  “It is. This is a product ten years in the making; I’ll be happy to have a campaign manager with so much faith in it. With your help, there’ll be no stopping the juggernaut of my company. I’m looking forward to taking this trip together and making a fortune along the way.” He did seem pleased, when I looked closely. The tension had eased from his shoulders, the lines around his eyes had relaxed. The Tanaka Corporation’s stock had been stagnant for the past few months, so they needed this new influx of energy, and tapping into the vein of social media was going to help get the word out quickly. My plan was going to rejuvenate what was a company lying back on its laurels. My plan, I let myself think. This was all thanks to my effort.

  This was the problem with taking a step back from work and living life. How could it compare to this? This thrill of accomplishing something and making a change? Of making things better, even if it was just for one company, or the one lonely man who ran it and wanted to leave his mark on the world?

  All Tanaka had to do was look at his entourage and they fell into place like sheep. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pantsuit while no one was looking and watched them file out. What would it be like to have power and authority like Tanaka’s? Yes, I’d come a long way. I’d earned respect, and I’d done it through hard work and seizing every opportunity that came my way. But would I ever have power like that?

  Jensen Cooper, the president of Cooper industries and my boss, came strolling in whistling a happy tune underneath his breath. His smile lit up the room like the 4th of July, getting somehow even brighter when he spotted me. He didn’t wear a tie, just a polished suit with the top button undone. His father would never have been caught dead looking so casual. His father had also earned everything he had, unlike his son, who’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

  A cloud of expensive cologne followed him into the room, and I resisted the urge to cough or go open a window. “Mr. Cooper.”

  “I watched the whole thing from my office,” he said by way of a hello. “Gemini, you little genius, I can’t believe you pulled that off. Let’s get dinner, shall we? Celebrate our good fortune?”

  It wasn’t worth the trouble saying no would bring, even if I wanted to. “Sure. I’d love to.”

  “Perfect. You know the restaurant, yeah? You’re the only one who can ever get reservations, for some reason. My assistant tried last week and botched it.”

  I smiled at Jensen. Most of the time, he was pleasant enough to be around. Right now, for example. “Maybe I’m just lucky. I’ll go ahead and make them. How does seven sound?”

  “Seven sounds perfect. Be sure to order a bottle of their best c
hampagne.” Jensen embellished the comment with a grin and a wink. It was times like this where he wasn’t so fun to be around; he’d tried to put the moves on me several times, but it was hard for someone like him to understand the word “no.” I should buy him a dictionary.

  As usual, he didn’t even give me a chance to say anything and was already out the door heading towards the elevator. I gathered my things in a hurry and left the office, and in the elevator ride down, I called Jensen’s favorite restaurant to make reservations. There was a reason I was always able to get them; my uncle owned the place. I wasn’t sure why I’d never told anyone about that. Maybe I just didn’t want anyone thinking I hadn’t earned my place.

  Outside, I stopped to take a deep breath. I wasn’t out of the woods with this contract yet, but already, the stress from the last few weeks was starting to dissipate. The bulk of the work was done; all that was left was to hash it out with Tanaka. I stared up at the blue sky for a moment, enjoying the warm sun and the gentle breeze. When I looked down, I noticed a young man near me. He stared up at the sky as well, frozen with a cup of coffee held to his lips. It only took me a moment to notice that he was too still.

  He wasn’t just frozen; he seemed to be completely paralyzed. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, his hair didn’t even move when the wind picked up. That was when I realized the rest of the world had stopped moving, too. We were right in the middle of downtown Chicago, but there were no movements and no sounds except for the beating of my own heart.

  Chapter 2

  I must’ve been dreaming.

  Overhead, a bird was frozen like some kind of landscape an artist was about to envision on a canvas. I hesitated and, out of habit, looked both ways before stepping into the street, but there was no need. Oncoming motorists were all frozen in place.

  Why wasn’t anything moving? Was this some kind of illusion? Hallucination? I looked all around me, spun in a circle, and searched for some sign of movement. There were none to be found. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end, and I had goose bumps running up and down my arm despite the warmth of the sun.

  Near me, a man in a sanitation uniform stood frozen, puffing on the end of a cigarette, a tendril of smoke from the cigarette drifting lazily into the air. Tentatively, I reached out and swiped my hand through the small cloud. A breathless laugh bubbled out of me, though there was nothing funny about the situation. I clapped a hand over my mouth when the sound echoed eerily in the silent city.

  “Get a grip on yourself,” I said out loud, not that anyone could hear. Was this purgatory? Had I fallen? Hit my head? Maybe I was in some sort of catatonic state, living on borrowed time. Maybe I was in a hospital somewhere, strapped in with cords and tubes, unable to take care of myself and relying on someone else to do it. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  I didn’t remember falling. I didn’t remember anything happening that could’ve suddenly killed me. I closed my eyes and focused on waking up. I opened them. Nothing changed. It was a childish fictional trope, but I pinched my arm. Again, nothing happened, but I hadn’t really expected it to. If this was a dream, then, I was trapped in it for now. I kept walking.

  As a kid, I’d often wonder what it would be like to be invisible. I think everyone’s wondered that, at some point or another. I used to want it, though. I used to lay in bed at night, curled in on myself, listening to my parent’s fight, and wish I was invisible. Or I’d be at school, being made fun of once again for being too nerdy, too awkward, too unusual, and I’d consider how much nicer things would be if I couldn’t be seen. I almost regretted those wishes, now.

  The worst part about this was not being able to do anything. I’d been helpless too many times in my life; and I’d promised never to be so again. But I didn’t even know what had caused this dream, so I had no idea how to fix it. I just had to wait. Wait for something to happen, wait for myself to wake up.

  A police officer stood at the curb, frozen in the act of directing traffic. I moved closer on a whim and, when I could see under his hat, recognized him. He’d always been the worst sort of lecherous authority, making crude comments and thinking he could get away with them because of his position. Thrilled with the idea no one could see me, I stuck my tongue out at him. But I could do better than that. Next to me was a young restaurant hostess writing down the specials on the board outside. I snatched the marker from her hand and marched over to the police officer.

  When I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, I dropped the marker and spun around. There was nothing. Still, I stood watching for as long as I could stand, eyes scanning the city around me. “Is someone there?” I called out. “Can you hear me?” There was no response. Not even an echo. Again, I looked both ways, up and down the street, but there was no more movement. I felt like I was being watched, like something obvious was happening that I should be aware of. Like someone was walking over my grave, or standing behind me and breathing down my neck. I suppressed a shudder.

  I remembered back when I used to attend church, all that talk about the rapture. The worthy are supposed to get taken up into the sky and the sinners get left behind. I hadn’t believed in that in years. My over zealous parents had pushed it out of me. But still, now I had to wonder…

  The feeling of being watched faded and I sighed, eventually stirring. After waiting a few seconds, I picked the marker back up. I turned it over in my hands and looked at the police officer again. His hand was outstretched, a cap on his head and a whistle in his mouth. I shrugged and, since I’d made it this far, drew an evil mustache on his face that Michelangelo would be proud of.

  I laughed at the absurdity of it all. Time had frozen. I could be the only one in the world who wasn’t frozen. Either that, or I’d lost my mind. I had never, never feared anything more than losing my grip on reality, yet here I was drawing a mustache on a frozen cop and laughing.

  I glanced up to the heavens. Even the clouds were standing still.

  “There has to be a reason for this,” I said out loud. A desperate edge had crept into my voice, but it was only a fraction of the desperation I actually felt. Even knowing no one could hear me, though, saying it out loud helped me feel better. So I continued. “If anyone can hear me, please make this stop. Put everything back to normal.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, but they snapped open when something touched my shoulder. It was only a caress, or something like it, but it made my shoulder burn like it had suddenly caught fire. I gasped and grabbed my arm, dropping to my knees on the cold concrete. Now I wasn’t sure which hurt more, my knees or my shoulder.

  As I was pushing myself to my feet, gritting my teeth against the pain, someone laughed behind me. To my right, a car horn honked. Up above, a helicopter flew over the buildings. The city was moving again.

  I almost fell back to the ground and cried tears of joy. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed something strange, to see if they noticed that they’d suddenly lost several minutes of their days, but everyone continued with their lives like there had been no delay. The police officer was back directing traffic, oblivious to his drawn-on mustache. The girl at the board was looking around for her marker, searching the pockets of her apron. “Where is it?” she mumbled to herself.

  I held tighter to my shoulder, the pain making tears prick at my eyes. I lurched forward, out of the street then past the restaurant hostess. As I passed her by, I tossed the marker behind the board so that the hostess would be able to find it. I didn’t wait to see if she did, though.

  Instead, I hurried to a bathroom. Something was seriously wrong with my shoulder; the burn hadn’t faded even slightly. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. I slammed into a woman and her kid coming out of the bathroom and apologized profusely while slipping inside and pushing the door closed. My shoulder felt like it was about to combust, getting worse every second, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. With shaking fingers, I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it down past my shoulder. To my credit, I still didn’t scream, but I did gasp. There was a handprint emblazoned onto my skin. Something had left its mark on me.