Trismegistus Shandy: paste in text of epilogue

2009-04-22T03:00:44Z

paste in text of epilogue

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*[[Nat and the Vigilante|Table of contents]]
*[[Nat and the Vigilante/Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[Nat and the Vigilante/Part One|Part One]]
*[[Nat and the Vigilante/Part Two|Part Two]]

----

It was a cool, windy day; not as cold as it would be just a little way
north or further inland, but cool enough that Nat, a few minutes after
she arrived at Forsyth Park, decided she didn't want to wait on the
bench. She walked in circles around the park, sometimes slower to
avoid getting too tired, and sometimes faster to avoid getting too
cold, for over an hour. She was returning toward the fountain from
the far end of the park for perhaps the fiftieth time when she saw
three figures appear beside it.

"Welcome to Earth Prime," she said to the dirty, disheveled mirror
image of herself. "Customs is right this way." She noticed a scar on
her other self's right hand.

"Is there hot running water on this timeline?" Kensington said. She
was as dirty as the other Nat, her clothes torn in many places and
patched in a few. She was no longer overweight, but didn't look
unhealthily skinny either. There was no sign of the suitcases they'd
been carrying when they'd been left in the plague-world; they
were wearing lightweight backpacks which couldn't hold much of what
they'd left their home timeline with.

"I believe so," said Stefan, "if I've hit upon the right timeline."

"Right this way," Nat said. She led them to her car.

There was a tense silence for a few minutes as Nat drove out of
downtown and toward her house. Finally Nat broke it by asking, "How
was your trek?"

"Long and hard," Kensington said. "Especially for her, using her
power so much on most of the days when we weren't walking all day from
one town to another. And for me, soaking up all those memories of the
older men who remembered the plagues and the starving time after the
canned goods ran out... not fun at all. But we still got to Savannah
months ahead of the rendezvous, and then made it our base and made
trips from there to Valdosta, St. Augustine, and few other places. We
kind of lost track of the date near the end; we've been hanging out by
the ruins of that fountain from dawn till dusk for the last two weeks,
hoping we hadn't already missed the Worldwalker..."

"Do you remember Mr. Carocci?" the sometime vigilante Nat asked
suddenly.

"Yes," Nat said, surprised. He was a deacon at the church she'd grown
up in, and had taught her confirmation class.

"He was one of the survivors we found in Milledgeville," she said.
"He didn't know me, of course. I guess we died when we were three or
four in that timeline, if we were ever born there."

"Did you change him?" Nat asked, morbidly curious.

"No, he was too old. The men in Milledgeville decided to have me
change all the men under thirty-five and leave all the older men
alone."

"So how did that work out overall? Did every town you came to want
you to change about half of them?"

"It varied a lot," the other Nat said. "We had at least one volunteer
everywhere except Warner Robbins, and most places they drafted some
men by lot or by vote in addition to the volunteers, but there was
one small group in Waycross that wanted me to change all but one of
them, and in several places they didn't force anybody to change once
they saw how many volunteers they had."

"Pretty similar to my trip through that world with the other you,
then," Stefan said.

"Don't think we aren't still mad at you for stranding us there, you
know, because we are," Kensington said. "The suitcase full of
survival equipment was nice, but it was still a mean trick."

"We said we would bring you here," Stefan said calmly, "and we did,
though not right away."

"Sophistry," Kensington said. "The implicature was that you'd bring
us here directly."

"But wasn't it fulfilling, bringing new hope to one despair-ridden
community after another?" Stefan asked.

"Sure, it was more satisfying than watching television, but it was
hard, dangerous work that we didn't volunteer for. If it's so
fulfilling, why don't you try it?" Kensington said to Nat.

"Maybe I will," Nat said quietly, as she pulled into her garage and
parked.

"What?" the other three asked.

"I invited you here to help out in my business," she said; "but in a
few days I might not have a business anymore. At least I'd have to
move it to another state, and I'm not keen on Oregon or Massachusetts.
Too rainy, too cold... The state legislature is going to vote on an
amendment to the Paranormal Business Act next week, and if it goes
through it will be illegal for me -- or you -- to use our power except
in law enforcement. I would have to be a licensed surgeon to use my
power on anybody but a criminal who's resisting arrest. So I'm not
sure what I'll do; move to a state where helping transsexuals with my
power is still legal, retire, finish college and become an
architect... or maybe I'll take a sabbatical in that world and help
out a few other communities that you didn't get to on your trek."

"If you want to do that, I would be happy to accompany you," Stefan
said; he sounded pleased. "Or we could scout around for a civilized
timeline where use of your power is still legal in Georgia?"

"Let's talk about it later," she said. "I reckon you two will want
baths; I have two bathrooms..." She pushed the button to close the
garage door, and led the way into the house.

As she led her other self upstairs to the master bathroom with the hot
tub, the dirty, bedraggled version of her abruptly said: "So, how does
it feel to be a vigilante?"

"...What?"

"You know. Punishing criminals on your own, police and judge and jury
all in one convenient package."

Nat was silent for a minute. "It bothers me. I don't want to do it
again if I can help it. But..."

"Yes?"

"I think we were more lenient than the judge would have been, if you'd
gotten caught in your home world."

The other her held out her right hand and pointed at the scar on her
wrist. "If the dog had bitten a little deeper, I might have lost the
hand. Or if it got infected, I might have lost the whole arm, or
died..."

"I hope the Bactine helped?"

"Don't change the subject."

"...I'm sorry. I could say it was Stefan's idea; it was, but I could
have argued against it instead of agreeing."

They entered the large master bathroom. Nat plugged the hot tub and
turned on the hot water. "What about I go get some clean towels?"

"Thanks... and can I borrow some of your clothes? None of mine are
clean."

"Sure."

The scarred ex-vigilante sat on the toilet lid and watched the water
running. When Nat returned with clean towels, underwear, and casual
clothes, she said "I guess I'll accept your apology. Like you said
earlier, if I was in your place I would probably have done the same,
since I'm you, and you're me... Just don't do anything like that
again, OK?"

"I won't."

One Nat left the bathroom as the other Nat started to take off her
shoes and socks.

----

Next story in series: [[Nat and the Housesitter]]

Nat and the Vigilante/Epilogue - Revision history

Trismegistus Shandy: paste in text of epilogue