Wanderers from the Weird Side
(August 17, 2017)
14: Slip of the Flip
Thursday, Friday, and Saturday had become the three busiest days of the week for the Mystery Shack—and that Thursday kept the gang busy. Gideon and Ulva came in, as they normally did, and by the end of business, Gideon's smile looked pasted on, his eyes a little desperate, and even Ulva, who had more energy even than Mabel, and not with the dubious aid of Smile Dip at that, had wilted.
"Want to go be brushed," she said in a weary voice.
Gideon turned pink. "Uh—she always likes me to groom her after work," he said.
"Gideon is good with my hair," Ulva said with a tired-eyed smile. "Go now, get brushed, and then we can go have dinner somewhere, yes?"
"Sure thing, you cute li'l old cub you," Gideon said.
When they had left, Mabel, who was resting her head on the counter, said, "That's a creepy relationship, but cute if you make allowances."
"Don't knock it, Mabes," Wendy said. "The world needs all the love it can get."
"Hey," Stan said—he had come in to spend a day conducting the museum tours—"speaking of love, didja hear the news? Blubs and Durland have decided they wanna adopt a kid."
"Aw! Mabel said. "That's sweet!"
"Yeah," Stan agreed. "Only—don't you think Durland should at least finish high school first?"
"It's a long process, anyways," Wendy said. "There's time. I know one of my classmates at school was an adopted kid, and her family tried for two years before it all got done."
"Yeah, I'll encourage Durland to get his GED," Stan said.
Ford had come up late in the afternoon, had vanished into his lab for a couple of hours, and then popped back upstairs just as they were locking the doors. "When can we make our attempt?" he asked.
Stan glanced at him. "What attempt, Sixer? What are you guys up to?"
"Just cleaning up a few loose ends from the past," Mabel said. "Nothing to get all worried about. Grunkle Ford, can't we have dinner first? Teek and I just had snacks for lunch, and I'm starved!"
Reluctantly, Ford agreed. Abuelita had prepared a Tex-Mex meal—beef brisket fajitas with veggies, guacamole, rice and beans, and caramel-covered flan as dessert. Even Ford, who could be so absent-minded that at times he would seriously ask, "Have I had lunch?" enjoyed it. Teek, Mabel, and Dipper cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, and by a little after seven, they were ready.
Wendy had changed from her khakis, white shirt, and green blazer to her outdoorsy outfit of a flannel shirt—red this time, and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows because it had been a very hot day outside. Dipper put on his ankle boots, and they set out down the Mystery Trail. Ford had donned a heavy backpack, and he had Dipper carry a version of the energy accumulator that made it possible for the false Wendy and Dippy Fresh to materialize. "This portable unit should make it possible to get them back to the Shack without losing cohesion," Ford explained.
"I hope we don't upset the kids," Wendy said.
"Taken care of!" Ford said. "Stanley agreed to take Soos, Melody, Abuelita, and the children to a movie. They'll be out until nine."
"That's late for the kids!" Mabel said, sounding indignant.
"It's just one evening," Ford said.
"Wait, you got Grunkle Stan to pay for—?" began Dipper.
"I paid for the excursion," Ford said. "Remarkably, the largest part of the expense was for popcorn and snacks. Corn must have become a rare commodity during the time I was in the Multiverse."
Though the afternoon was shading into evening, the day remained sultry, about ninety degrees and unusually humid. "What are those bugs?" Teek asked as the underbrush on each side of the trail gave out a chorus of cheeps and chitters.
"Crickets and katydids," Wendy said.
"Katy did what?" Mabel asked.
"We don't talk about that," Wendy teased.
"Besides, if you listen," Dipper pointed out, "half of them claim that Katy didn't."
They paused at the overgrown path leading off to the left. "Everybody ready?" Ford asked.
"Everybody remember," Dipper warned, "you can't touch these guys."
"Well," Ford said, "technically, Wendy shouldn't touch the Wendy construct, and Dipper shouldn't touch Dippy Fresh—"
"Don't even worry about that," Dipper said.
"—because theoretically, only the originals and the constructs that resemble them would cancel out. When I was lost in the Multiverse, I briefly visited a dimension that at first I mistook for home. Very, very similar to our Earth, and there were doubles of people I knew, including myself. However, I directly observed that physical contact between duplicates results in a catastrophic blast of energy that disintegrates both. Just to be on the safe side, as Mason advises, each of us must be careful not to touch either of the constructs."
In a few minutes they came out at the steel cage that enclosed the spot where once the Cipher effigy had once stood. "Well, it's best to begin at once," Ford said. "Let me make a few readings first."
Ford and Dipper set up, but did not switch on, the energy device. "Should I start it?" Dipper asked.
"Give me a moment," Ford said. He studied his anomaly detector for three or four minutes. 'Hmm. The residual forces are decaying faster than I anticipated. You know, in another week or so, our friends would simply . . . well, evaporate. Perhaps we should let nature take its course."
"No!" Mabel said urgently. "This isn't nature, it's unnature! We can't just let them die. Dipper, tell him. This is my fault. I dreamed up the substitute Wendy and Dippy Fresh. They're my responsibility. They don't want to die, and if they do, it's my fault, and—we've got to help them. Tell them, Dipper!"
Dipper sighed. "I know how Mabel feels. I felt awful after all the Dipper copies got melted. Yeah, if we can find a place for them, I say we need to help them out."
"Proud of you, man," Wendy said quietly. "Let's do it."
"Very well," Ford said. "Dipper, activate the device."
Both the false Wendy—who had now reverted to her fifteen-year-old appearance—and Dippy Fresh, as obnoxiously cheerful as ever, shimmered into existence. "Listen," Dipper told them, "if you want to survive—"
"Whoa, Dip, don't be hyper!" Dippy Fresh advised. "Chillax to the max!"
Dipper bunched his fists, but said between his teeth, "IF you want to survive, come along with us. You'll be able to move and talk and all as long as we keep these devices turned on. But—please, now, listen—don't touch anybody else. If you do, both of you will die. Do you understand the danger?"
"Where are we going?" the false Wendy asked.
"The Mystery Shack," Dipper said. "But do you understand? You can't touch anyone—not Wendy, not me, not Mabel, nobody here. If you want to live, promise me that you won't try to touch anyone. You, too—Dippy Fresh."
"I'm so lonely," moaned the false Wendy. "But I promise."
"Dippy Fresh can go his own way, hey-hey!" said Dippy Fresh.
"Then let's go." Dipper picked up Ford's device, carefully, and said, "Teek, you go first. You—let's call you Wendy 2—you follow him, but not closely. Dippy Fresh—you can't ride the skateboard!—you follow Wendy 2. We'll come behind. Don't get too far ahead of me, because we're not sure how much of a range this machine has, and if you get too far from it, you may not be able to hang onto your physical existence."
They set off, a bizarre parade. Dipper saw that the reality of the two constructs was problematic. Wendy 2's legs bent strangely, as though her knees were almost loose in the joint and her ankles were weak. Dippy Fresh, though he spun, tossed, and caught his skateboard like a kid tossing a welcome sign outside a new business, sometimes flickered weirdly, as though on the verge of going out like a fading candle flame.
The constructs stopped in their tracks when they came in sight of the Mystery Shack. "I almost remember this," Wendy 2 said.
"Ziggity zow," said Dippy Fresh. "I think Mabel's room is up at the top! Bop!"
"It's a safe zone," Mabel said. "We'll go up to the attic and explain what we want to do."
It was obvious that neither Wendy 2 nor Dippy Fresh had ever encountered stairs before. Teek went up before them so they could see what they needed to do, but both of the constructs still went up toddler-style—both feet on each stair before they stepped up onto the next one.
Somehow, though, they both seemed realer. Wendy 2's body had stabilized, and Dippy Fresh's footsteps were audible—outside he had walked in silence.
In the attic, Stanford asked Wendy, Dipper, and Teek to wait just outside the open bedroom door. He and Mabel went into the bedroom with the constructs.
"Now let me explain to you how you can survive," Stanford said.
He spoke of the Mindscape—"It's like here, though it looks different, too," he said. "There will be a Shack there, very much like this one, and you can live there. The, um, rules are different there. No time will seem to pass. You won't need food or even water. You will have company—there are analogues of humans who visit there in their dreams, and of course you will have each other. Your physical existence will be different, too. You won't have any trouble maintaining your bodies—and it will be all right to touch others there."
"I'm afraid," Wendy 2 said. "I'm many. Will the many be there?"
In a kind voice, Stanford said, "They will, but they will be more unified than now. You will be one person. You won't have to concentrate to maintain your existence."
Mabel—though Dipper yelped—took Wendy 2's hand. Nothing happened—no blinding flash, no mutual annihilation—but Mabel said, "I'm so sorry. I helped you exist, but I didn't take responsibility. I didn't know you'd still be here after Mabel Land went away. I want you to live. This is your chance. When I dream of you, I'll come and talk, OK?"
"Way cool, Sis!" said Dippy Fresh.
Biting her lip, Wendy 2 nodded.
"Then let me prepare the tech and we'll get you two to your permanent home," Stanford said.
"Wait a minute," Wendy 2 said. "I want Dipper to go with me."
"Wendy, friendy, I'll come along!" Dippy Fresh chirped.
She gave him a murderous look. "Not you. I want Dipper! Who could stand you?"
For the first time in his existence, Dippy Fresh looked unhappy.