Parallelities by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780307540485
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 1998-02-10T23:00:00+00:00

While she made the coffee in the morning he did the toast and eggs: medium brown for the toast, over easy for the two eggs, half a glass of pineapple-grapefruit juice on the side. They ate in silence until their mutual unease dissolved into smiles and laughter: nervous giggles for her, deeper chuckles for him.

“How was it for you?” It was a morning-after question he had never had the guts to ask any of the other women he had made love to, but deep down he felt—no, he knew—that Maxine would not be offended.

She grinned at him over the top of her coffee mug. “You have to ask? I always wondered what it would be like to make love to someone who knew exactly what to do without having to be prompted. Now you’ve spoiled me.” Reaching across the small table, she put her hand on his.

“After what we’ve been through we deserve to be spoiled a little.” He energetically mopped up runny yellow yolk with bread. “This could get to be habit-forming.”

In both look and tone, her response was one of mild reproach. “Today is a work day. Or is it different in your para?”

“I’m afraid not. The things I’d like to see changed, that I’d be comfortable with having turned upside down, stay the same.” He smacked his lips, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. The napkins he bought at Ralph’s were plain, generic white. Maxine’s were stamped with little bouquets of flowers. “I suppose we’d better report in. I don’t want any of my selves fired even if they’re only para selves.”

She pushed back from the table. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk like that. Remember, to me you’re my para, not the other way around.”

He nodded. “Sorry. It’s hard to think about manners when you’re trying to concentrate on not going crazy. If it’s all right with you, I’ll drive. I’d like to check out the handling on the electric.”

“Internal combustion.” She shuddered visibly. “I’ll bet the skies of your Los Angeles are barely clear for half the year.”

He saw no point in correcting her. Anyone who could clear the skies of his Los Angeles for half the year could get elected mayor for life. Or maybe emperor.

A very few of the buildings they drove past looked different, but not sufficiently to slow him down. Some familiar advertisements were missing, but as far as he was concerned that was all to the good. Every vehicle on the street, from private cars to buses to delivery vans and even large trucks, traveled in eerie near-silence, whining in concert only when they accelerated.

It was an extraordinary experience to be able to drive up Lincoln with the window open while listening to the conversation of passing pedestrians or the songs of birds flying by overhead. There were far more birds than he was used to, as well, and a plethora of species instead of the usual dominant and domineering ravens and pigeons. Another legacy of the cleaner air in Maxine’s world, he noted.

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