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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
1,644
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
8
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1,290

A Conversation

Summary:

A different kind of cross-time story...

Work Text:

A ConversationFerrell Rosser    The middle aged man stood in line to order two coffees. Close cropped gray hair and gray eyes; with shirt, pants, and shoes all the same color light brown, shirt just a tad snug around the waist. Prominent frown lines at the corner of his eyes, mouth, and forehead hinted at long hours of scowling.      Today, however, the man smiled warmly, sincerely, at the teenage clerk at the coffee shop as he took his cup, handed her money, and was handed his change. The man walked to the front of the shop and sat in front of the big picture window. The man didn’t have to wait long, before his friend joined him.   The woman who sat down next to the man was pretty in, an only slightly, faded way. She was forty-ish, tall, slender; mid-shoulder length, silky, black hair, with a thick streak of silver-gray cascading down the side of her face. She wore no jewelry or make-up. The light silk dress flattered her less then ample figure, as did the high heels. As she sat, she gave the man a quick kiss on the cheek. Settled in with their coffees, the two friends began to talk. He gestured to her to begin.   “So, my dear, what shall we talk about today?” She sipped her strong coffee from her delicate china cup, before continuing. “Well, I can’t say that I care for this year’s fashions. Really, now, look at those people out there,”  She gestured out the huge window facing the busy street. “Those styles are so bland, so dull! Look at you, no style, and no trace of personality at all!”      He chuckled and gave his light brown polo shirt a tug to straighten the bottom out.     “Well, maybe you’re right, maybe our fashions are a bit bland this year, but just think of all the other possible worlds where things are very different!”     She coughed as she gulped down some coffee the wrong way. “Oh, what do you mean by that? Oh. This is going to be one of your ‘what if’ conversations, is it?”    The man grinned. “Well, yes. Just think what the world would be like if, umm, say the ‘60’s had turned out differently.” He reached up with his free hand……And smoothed back his long hair, wondering if he should re-tie his ponytail. The woman looked at him for a moment, before shaking her head, the short pigtails swinging to either side of her beaded headband.    “Dear, if the sixty’s hadn’t gone the way they did, then we wouldn’t be sitting here drinking herbal tea and listening to a folksinger. The counter-culture and the free-love revolution that swept the globe, toppling governments and bringing down big corporations was what made this world what it is today. Really, sometimes I think that you worry that we don’t live in the best of all possible worlds.” She unconsciously grimaced as she drank the wretched tea in her cracked and ill-formed hand thrown mug. The man, sipping his own tea, looked out the window at the broken asphalt with the weeds growing up through the cracks. The buildings on the opposite side of the street were just as dingy and in ill repair as he knew the one he now occupied was. He sighed as he watched a woman ride her bike down the mostly empty street and three tough looking men crossed the street.    A cloud passed overhead and the lights dimmed, the building’s solar panel losing its power source. The man sighed again and commented to his companion.    “Yes, dear, but what if things had happened differently? Oh, I don’t know, maybe in the twenties?” The woman sighed, this time, as the three men entered the building. She shook her head again…    …And her short bob hardly moved at all, the gel holding it firmly in place. Putting down her martini, she delicately dabbed her lips, as to not smudge her lipstick.     “Dear, if the stock market had crashed in twenty nine, and not just had that huge dip with that awful scare that only lasted a few days, we might have had a, oh, I don’t know, a global economic disaster! Who knows what might have happened! Why, say for example, Germany might have done something rash! Like, oh, I don’t know, maybe rearmed, or elected that socialist nut, or maybe even both!” The man nodded thoughtfully and sipped his own cocktail. Idly glancing out the window, he watched a zeppelin dock at the skyscraper across the street from them. He refocused on his companion when she reached over and flicked a piece of lint off the collar of his tux. As she did, she noticed three men in fedoras and trench coats talking to the hostess.    “Well, yes, I’m sure you’re right. One World War was more than enough, thank-you very much! But, I’ve heard that wars accelerate technology, is that true?” She smiled and smoothed her stylish black silk dress before she replied. The hostess pointed at them.    “Yes, I’ve heard that too, but it’s not as simple as that! I mean, asking if our technology would be more advanced if there had been another world war, would be like asking what the world would be like if the Bolsheviks had won the Russian civil war, and not just fought to a stand still. Can you imagine a world where a European Imperial Russia wasn’t always a part of the European Trade Block? Or a world where the Siberian Soviet Republic didn’t give the world such a pitiful example of what not to do? I mean, those Chinese rebels in the fifty’s were unable to get hardly anyone to join their cause, precisely because of the wretched example of their neighbor to the north! Really! Vladivostok is the only national capital to be burned by its own people! Twice! Anyway, you might as well ask what if the U.S. had gotten involved in that dreary little war in Indo-China, or if we had raced the Russians to the Moon, or if that crazy Italian scientist hadn’t blown-up half of Chicago with that uranium experiment! That’s as silly as wondering what if Communism had been taken up by Russia and China! Really, dear, everyone knows that Capitalism is king, and always will be! Back to the real world, now!” The three men had nearly crossed the room. She drained her glass with a flourish. “Order us another drink!” He smiled at her and waved for the waiter…    …And the robot glided over to their table, all chrome and white ceramic. The machine scanned their glasses, took them into its open middle, and refilled them before finally replacing the glasses in front of their respective owners. The machine then glided away on its nearly noiseless tractor treads. He picked up his glass and sampled the drink. As perfect as always. He thought. Setting it down, the man smiled at his companion.     “Dear, all this is quite interesting, but I think that you’re missing the point! The question is not are we living in the best of all possible worlds, but that other possible worlds are just as interesting as our own! Just think about a world where nuclear power is protested! A world where President Kennedy was assassinated! A world where a titanic struggle between Capitalist and Communist countries raged across the globe and across the decades, without a shot being fired! Think of a world where Dr. Asimov only wrote about robots, instead of building them! Think about a world where, after sending a handful of men to the Moon, the space program was all but abandoned! Did you ever stop to think about what the world would be like if only one great event had turned out differently?” Pausing to take another drink, he absently swiped his hand across his shaved head. His companion shook her head; the white plastic dangles of her earrings making little tinkling sounds as they swung. She smiled and took a sip of her own drink as she thought about it. He studied his companion fondly; the satiny white of her form-fitting body suit not only matched the gleaming white ceramic décor of the bar, but also gave her a youthful appearance that he greatly appreciated. She finished her drink, noticed three uniformed cyborgs entering the bar, and replied to his questions.    “Dear, what an imagination you have! Really, be content with this one world, and leave the other worlds to themselves! Now, drink up, we have to go!” Grinning at her fondly, he reached over and gave her fuzzy, blue-dyed hair a ruffle. He leaned back and picked up his drink and drained it…    …And sat the coffee cup back down on the window ledge. His companion smiled at him, again, as he lay down a dollar bill as a tip for the waitress. The man’s companion hopped down from her stool and slid her arm around his as they walked out the door. As they stepped out into the busy sidewalk the man asked her a question.    “Dear, have you ever considered dying your hair blue?” She looked at him, stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. He joined in as they walked around the corner where they should have been visible through the picture window.     The young waitress moved to clear their cups, but froze for a moment when she picked up the dollar. For just a moment, she thought she had not seen the busy street out side the window, but rather, a burned and shattered landscape of nuclear blasted 1960’s architecture. She blinked and the scene was the one she expected. Of the middle-aged couple, there was no sign, even though there was no way they should have had time to move out of sight…