Fall in love in a weekwe get by

“Then… we need to think about it.” Assess whether this is needed here? I know nothing about your world, and you know nothing about mine. Maybe when I start telling you things that are commonplace for us, you will be the first to say that it is better to stay as far away from such madness as possible.

– Like from the grumbling of Borvoor and the tidal pebbles? It is quite possible that I will say. But no one will ever know if you don't try.

“Let’s return to discussing the terrible realities of my world and parallelism later,” I suggested. – This is not a question that should be solved hastily… and based only on scientific considerations. Maybe I'm stupid, but I believe in morality. And that some discoveries would be better off not happening.

– I understand what you mean. But I am always more interested in the question of who can decide this and by what right.

– At a minimum, the author of the discovery has some rights. After all, it will be he who will be cursed if the discovery turns out to be monstrous.

– Or praise. The result is usually unpredictable. And no one knows how they will use your work.

“Or praise,” I agreed. – Or both. You're a scientist, you couldn't help but think about it.

“I couldn’t,” Dougal agreed. – And I came to the conclusion that every discovery and every opportunity has its time. If the discovery is made, then its time has come. If an opportunity presents itself, then it’s worth taking advantage of. Nothing around us happens without a reason. Everything that happens is caused by something. Even accidents are not accidental. It was no coincidence that even Miss Blair went to perform her idiotic ritual. It's just time.

–Are you a fatalist?

– No. I believe that everything in our lives is determined by our choices. And your “incredible probabilities” that ghosts and shamans told you about confirm my theory.

– May be. I'll think about it.

We went out to the Thames and stopped at the granite parapet of the embankment. Seagulls flew over the gray water with sharp cries. Pigeons were crowing behind me; they were fat, well-fed and lazy, they shied away from under their feet, but did not take off.

“It’s a wonderful night,” I said. – Thank you… Dougal.

“Enjoy yourself, Freya,” he chuckled. – It’s only morning.

– Don’t pretend that you don’t understand. Doesn't suit you. By the way, my friends call me Sally. You can too. If you want, of course.

– I won’t even try. Freya suits you and this world much better.

– You think? – I froze. I really liked it when he called me Freya. When I woke you up… and now. From him the least favorite name sounded different. It’s not that it’s more beautiful, but rather more correct. There was magic in it. As in this world, and in me now. – Maybe you're right. Fine. Let there be Freya. Only for you. And for Sabella, of course. She also said something similar.

We stepped into Sabella's living room at exactly eight in the morning. For what? Dougal didn't explain. He didn't even say when he opened the portal where we would end up. To be honest, I was surprised. That is, it is clear that Dougal could not help but be with his mother that day, but I did not think that he would drag me with him. And, for that matter, I very much doubted that Sabella would be pleased.

But she smiled sincerely, and her “Good morning, Sally, very glad to see you” sounded from the heart, and not from formal politeness.

“Everything is as you asked,” she told Dougal and placed something in his palm. – Double-sided for a day. This time difference…

– Thank you mom. I hope you didn't have to hang around there all night.

– Oh, no, very nice people work there.

“Your crocodiles are all cute, even evil ones,” he pressed her to him and touched her cheek with his lips.

I felt embarrassed: it was not for prying eyes. So… personal. Parting. For a day or forever. I wrapped my arms around myself and turned away. But then Sabella pulled away from Dougal and came towards me. Hug.

– Don't cry, Sally. Everything will be fine, I believe.

I don’t know how I didn’t burst into tears from this “don’t cry.” ?hummed in response.

– Thank you, Sabella. You are so… wonderful.

“It’s time,” Dougal said in a strange voice. “You’ll still have time to cry in the arms of… a woman.”

And then he took my hand.

– The time for testing and new experiments has come. Ready? “He turned his back and put his palms on his shoulders. He said quietly: “Close your eyes, it’s… probably too bright.”

I obeyed silently. A short meeting with Sabella turned into such an emotional shake-up that there was no strength left to be interested in anything else, to ask about anything. And… I told Dougal that the program is at his discretion.

I felt the usual tug, for some reason a whistling in my ears – this definitely had never happened before. And also the moment of movement itself, for some reason it seemed too long to me.

– Well, that's what I thought. And, of course, the unbearable heat.

– Can we open it now? Or is this also… a test?

– No, these are experiments. Open it up.