The Woman Who Died a Lot

“My guess is that the motive for the murders is nothing about the people concerned but everything to do with how long they live,” I said. “If Mr. Chowdry is correct and HR-6984 will strike us only because we are expecting it to, then evidence of life beyond 2041 will lower expectation to zero and we’ll survive. If Gavin killed these people at Goliath’s behest, then Goliath is plotting the destruction of the planet and everyone on it.”

“Hang on,” said Landen, who was always the slowest when it came to this sort of thing. “Goliath wants the earth destroyed? For what possible reason? They’d be destroyed, too.”

“The Goliath Corporation,” I said, “is trying to use the Dark Reading Matter as some sort of a lifeboat—a brave new world to be run by them and them alone. It won’t be ideal for mankind, but it will at last fulfill Goliath’s mission statement: to own everything and control everybody.”

We all thought about this for a moment.

“So let me get this straight,” said Friday. “I’ve got to kill Gavin to stop him from killing the others, so that they can all see they live beyond 2041, and thus avert a strike by a rogue asteroid that could be influenced by human expectation?”

“That’s Expectation-Influenced Probability Theory in a nutshell,” said Tuesday.

“Sodding hell,” said Friday.

“What?”

“I’m on a total, total, loser here. I kill Gavin, the murders won’t happen, the ChronoGuard operators will live long and healthy lives, and the probability of an asteroid strike will drop to almost zero.”

“That’s a total loser?” said Tuesday. “Aside from the murder bit, you’ll be a hero. Listen, I’d kill Gavin if it meant saving seven billion lives.”

“And that’s the shitty bit,” said Friday. “As soon as I pull this trigger, the eventline changes to include the shooting, and no one will ever know why I killed Gavin.”

We stood in silence for a moment, trying to get our heads around this. We weren’t sure, but I think he was right—Shazza had suggested the same thing back during the support-group meeting. The Letters of Destiny might have changed several times during the past ten minutes.

“You’ll never know why I did it,” he continued, “I’ll never know why I did it, and the seven billion or so lives I save will never know it either. I’m going to rot in a prison cell for the rest of my life still believing that my function is unfulfilled and having no idea why I killed Gavin.”

“I’m not sure I buy that,” said Tuesday.

“It has a precedent,” said Landen quietly. “Almost every single lone gunman who has assassinated a notable figure was never sure why he did it—and neither was anyone else. Maybe that’s what they all were—eventline crimes, for which there can never be any absolution, no matter how strong and noble the motive.”

Tears had welled up in my eyes at this stage, and both Tuesday and I rushed to give Friday a hug.

“Oh, stop,” said Gavin. “what about me getting a hug? I’m the one about to die.” He paused at the thought of it. “Boy, oh, boy,” he said to himself. “Mother and daughter, hugging me and pressing their breasts upon me, together.”

“You’re disgusting,” said Tuesday.

“Ah yes,” he admitted, “but at least I’m consistent. Can you say the same for the rest of the serial liars who deign to call themselves civilized?”

We ignored him. This had been the future Friday’s plan all along. The last-ditch effort to save the planet. The Destiny Aware letters as part of the union agreement, the faith that his young self would figure it out and have the selflessness to give up his freedom to help those he had sworn to protect. And it meant that Friday had the one thing he’d been wishing for: a function. All he had to do was kill Gavin.

So we said our good-byes, and Tuesday gave Gavin another one of those long kisses that was just a little bit too uncomfortable to behold, and I gave Gavin a hug in which he pulled me a little too close for comfort, and even Landen shook his hand and said that Gavin had his thanks.

“There’s still a teensy-weeny problem,” said Friday. “Motive.”

“Aren’t his future crimes the reason you kill him?” I said.

“Seems a bit cold-blooded,” replied Friday. “Besides, once the eventline has changed, they’ll be no motive at all, and I’m not sure the eventline can tolerate stuff like that. It has to fit together at least a little bit.”

“I know why,” said Gavin. “Because you think I’m a shit and it’s possible I might have gotten your sister pregnant.”

There was a sudden icy silence.

“Tuesday?” I said in my extra-stern voice. “You had sex with Gavin?”

“Might have,” she said in an offhand manner.

“Tell me you used protection?”

“Well, Mum,” she said, staring at her hands absently, “we were kind of caught up in the moment.”

“And it was a terrific moment,” mused Gavin, rolling his eyes. “ Hubba-hubba.”