Erica O'Rourke - Dissonance

In the Key World the Depot was a coffee shop on the south side of town, in the old train station. After a huge crash decades ago, the city built a new station on the north side, and the Depot became a landmark and a place for locals to get lattes.

Walkers believed every accident came from a choice. Nearly forty people had died that morning; another hundred were injured, simply because the engineer picked the wrong time to throw the brake. Countless worlds had sprung up in the aftermath, a lesson in the way a single decision could transform the fabric of the multiverse.

I wondered what choices had shaped this version of Simon, who cut class and used a fake ID. Despite his dissonance, I was tempted to find out. He was definitely the break, and it was just my luck that the one time he noticed me, there was something fundamentally wrong with him.

Iggy bumped my legs, and I fell heavily into Simon again. His arms came around me, and for an instant I let mine circle him. Then I took a quick, unsteady step back. “I’ll think about it.”

Now it was his turn to frown. Most girls would have been falling all over him for that kind of invitation, but I wasn’t most girls.

“Playtime’s over,” Addie said, her expression like a storm front. “Wrap this up.”

I gave Iggy one last pat. “See you around.”

“Count on it,” he said, scooping up the Frisbee and tossing it toward the pond. Iggy raced away, Simon followed, and I turned, awaiting the wrath of Addie.

“We’re not here to troll for guys, Del.”

“You’re not, anyway. I’m sure we could find you someone.” I pointed to a girl biking on the other side of the pond. “She’s cute.”

Playing matchmaker for Addie wasn’t a bad idea. Not that the outdoorsy type was right for her. She needed someone as effortlessly polished as herself. But if she had a girlfriend, maybe she’d be too busy to notice my mistakes.

Her green eyes took on a warning gleam. “Leave it alone, Del. Him too.”

I shrugged. “He’s a break. I was getting a reading for my homework.”

“Some reading,” she replied.

“How long have you been spying on me?” I asked, trying to draw her attention away from Simon.

“Long enough to see you get the balloon down. There was nothing wrong with that kid. You should have left her alone.” She crossed her arms, her face taking on the pinched, fussy look that made her look older, and not in a good way. “We have rules for a reason, Del.”

I studied my nail polish, plum colored and starting to chip.

“She was miserable.”

“So? She’s an Echo. It doesn’t matter.”

It matters to me, I wanted to say. But Addie was right. Echoes weren’t real people, only copies of Originals, no matter how alive they seemed. Still, her response, practical and dismissive, nettled me.

“Whatever.” I glanced over at Simon, roughhousing with Iggy. The discord surrounding them scraped along my nerves, growing louder the longer I watched. “Why are you here?”

“Dad asked me to help you with your homework. I left you three different messages.”

“Didn’t get them,” I said airily, pulling Simon’s wallet out of my pocket. I held up the out-of-state license that claimed he was twenty-four. “This is a terrible ID. They’d totally bust him.”

“You picked his pocket? Did Monty teach you?”

“Who else?” She frowned as I continued. “Simon’s Original is the star basketball player at my school. He’d never try to sneak into a bar. What’s the harm in keeping this one out of jail too?”

“It’s pointless,” she said, swiping at a wisp of strawberry blond hair that dared escape the neat twist at the nape of her neck. I never understood how she was able to get her hair to behave. Mine was a perpetual mess—reddish brown, unruly as tree bark, black at the ends like they’d been dipped in a pot of india ink. “He’s not even real.”

Simon’s palm on my bare leg had felt pretty damn real, but I kept that tidbit to myself.

I couldn’t say why, exactly, I’d nicked his wallet. Because it was fun. Because I wanted to test myself. Because while this Simon flirted, the one back home barely noticed me. Because even if he was only an Echo, I’d hate for him to end up in juvie. Because Addie couldn’t. A million reasons, but mostly . . . because I could.

I shook my head and slipped the wallet back into my pocket. “I hope he didn’t pay a lot for this. It’s awful.”

“Leave it here.” Her tone and temper were both growing short, but so were mine. “You know it’s dangerous to bring it back.”

“It’s not radioactive. It won’t hurt anything.” According to the Consort, bringing Echo objects to the Key World was like introducing bubonic plague, but they’d never explained why. It made sense for big things, like pets. Clear violation of the rules to bring Iggy back, since the real Iggy was already frolicking about somewhere. But an object as small as Simon’s wallet wouldn’t affect my world, the same way a single grain of sand wouldn’t hold back the tide.

Even so, it was easier to let Addie think she’d won, especially with a migraine brewing. I tossed the ID in the trash and the wallet on a nearby table, where he’d spot it on his way out. “Happy now?”

“Not really,” she said. “Let’s get started on your homework. The first step is to locate the vibrato fractums.”

“Already did. Simon’s one. Jogger’s two.” I jerked a thumb toward the trail where a stout, balding man was running. “Minivan’s three, but it pulled out while I was talking to Simon. Swing set makes four. Did I miss anything?”

I hadn’t, but it was fun to make her admit it.

She scowled. “Since you’ve got it figured out, go get your readings.”

“I already checked Simon,” I said, and flashed my phone. I hadn’t just picked his pocket—I’d recorded his frequency so I could determine exactly how bad the break was. “I can skip the others.”

“Three breaks, three readings,” she said firmly.

The thing about Walking is you’re always playing catch-up. It’s not time travel. You can’t go back and prevent a problem. Once a decision is made, a branch—the choice you didn’t take, an alternate pathway, an alternate world—is created. Most of the time, it’s no big deal. The alternate world, populated by Echoes, goes its own way. It creates Echoes of its own and never interferes with the Key World again.

Every once in a while, for reasons unknown, something goes wrong. There’s a snag in the fabric of reality, a frequency that’s grown too strong or too unstable. Left alone, it will spread, destabilizing the Key World and weakening the other branches of the multiverse. And that’s where Walkers come in—crossing through pivots, cutting off one reality to preserve the rest. Cleaving.

Breaks are the first sign of a problem, but they aren’t necessarily fatal. Like infections, some are more serious than others, so we have to determine which ones can be left under observation and which require cleaving. I didn’t doubt this world would end up cleaved—it was sounding worse by the minute—but Addie would never let me bail early.

I’d heard the jogger’s pitch warbling across the park, but the assignment required I get a direct reading to be sure. I started toward him as he came around the curve, checking his pulse, his face red and his shirt sweat-soaked. I shuddered.

I picked up the pace as he approached, his signature growing louder. Get away clean, Monty always said, and I hustled the last few steps, phone clutched in my hand.

Our paths intersected, my shoulder brushing against his arm. He stumbled onto the grass, yelped, and swore.

“Oops,” I said, and kept going. He threw up his hands and continued running. The touch had been brief, but long enough to turn my screen cherry red. I headed back to Addie. “That was gross.”