Reliving

The building appeared innocuous enough, a large gray commercial building, windowless in form without any logos or identification. The address was correct, the place I’d been told to go to if I wanted to see my wife–my future wife I corrected myself. It all felt wrong though, or at the very least, highly likely that this would all be a big waste of time.

Still, I'd come this far.

Inside the building was completely empty, in mid-construction that appeared abandoned months ago. 

“Great,” I said to myself. I tried not to be disappointed; I should be relieved. I'd known it was a long shot, a farce. I was–

Ding. Elevator doors opened, the light from inside flooding the empty room. “Michael?” a lone, well dressed man called from inside.

Who the hell else would it be dressed in a tuxedo? “That's me. You can understand how this isn't a good start.”

“No, I imagine it isn't,” the man said. “I do apologize about the present state of the lobby, although as you may also understand, it's by design given the nature of our… business.”

At least he's in character. Might as well play along. “Sure. Cloak and dagger and all that?”

“Precisely, sir. If you'll accompany me for a short ride?”

“After you.” My heart raced. None of this felt real. I stepped inside the elevator and the man hit the only button other than the ground floor. I narrowed my eyes. The building from outside was quite tall, at least thirty floors. The man noticed my curiosity.

“Apologies again, sir. The place is obviously under construction. We had a smaller office before but we're finally expanding. You're our first client here.”

“I can tell.” I couldn't help the sarcasm. Even I felt like I was going through the motions, just waiting to get to the big moment, the one that actually mattered.

“Just think,” the man said, “ten minutes from now you could be happily married for the rest of your life.”

I laughed a bit. “What's your name?”

The man laughed back. “Nervous, Michael?”

“You remember, I've already been married.”

“I know, we spoke at length. This time is a bit different, don't you think?”

Understatement of the century. “Humor me.”

“Samuel Kosh,” the man said, holding out a hand. “You can call me Sam.”

I gripped the man's hand-Sam-and looked him deep in the eye. “My name's Michael Nordom,” I said, keeping firm hold of his hand.

“I know, Michael.”

“Is your name actually, Sam?”

“Does it matter? It doesn't change what we're offering here.” The elevator doors dinged open. “Come on, there's still some paperwork we have to go over before the wedding.”

I released Sam's hand. I'm willing to look behind the curtain before the rug is pulled out from under me. At least I know it's coming.

The hallway we stepped out into is in an even poorer state than the lobby. Great. I barely hear whatever Sam explained about the company he works for, the legacy they're trying to create, how understanding they are of my situation and how pleased they are that I decided to choose them for such an important event. It all sounded like corporate talk, a little dishonest from the get-go, like I was being sold a half-truth and made to be convinced that I needed to spend an exorbitant amount of money. It all amounted to the same thing. I was being ripped off.

Sam led me inside a room off the hallway that opened into a well kept office. The office appeared like that of a bank manager's and was surprising in appearance compared to the rest of the building. It didn't exactly establish any sort of legitimacy as it only further confused me.

“Please, have a seat,” Sam Kosh said, gesturing to either of the chairs on the customer's side of an office desk as he took a seat in the leather chair behind it. 

I grabbed the seat nearest the door intentionally. Sam took notice. “In case you need to run?” Sam asked with a chuckle.

“Something like that.”

“Alright, well, we have a couple items of business to go over before we can continue,” Sam said, finishing his laugh. I gestured grandly for him to go on. Sam continued, “We both know why you're here, but I want to make sure you're under no illusions, set expectations.”

“Sure,” I nodded. “Go right ahead.”

“How familiar are you with the multiverse theory?”

“Enough to know why I'm here.”

“Okay, I'll be brief then,” Sam said. “Some people get confused or are a bit misinformed when it comes to the multiverse. A lot of people have come to believe that if there is a multiverse, that that means that there are an infinite number of possibilities. That's only true if you're looking at the multiverse with a few hard rules in place. For instance, you could no more be born before your parents or to a different set of parents than a cake could be baked without the necessary ingredients. Different ingredients and different measurements don't help either. It simply doesn't work. Also, there's no universe out there where death isn't at the end of living.” Sam held up his hands in an open gesture, as if his examples explained everything.

In a way they did. He said to set expectations, a common sales tactic. Here's where the shoe normally dropped. I'd heard it all before in one form or another. “Look, Sam, I get it. You explained all this on the phone. I'm ready to get down to business here. Can we speed this along?”

“Eager to see your wife, huh?” Sam said with a grin.

“Careful,” I growled. My wife is a touchy topic. She died of cancer two years ago. It tore my heart out. I started drinking, finding solace in the dark areas of the internet, areas that sold false hope like pornography, cam girls that offered temporary companionship for a high premium; I indulged in psychics offering a connection to the afterlife, a kind word from a lost loved one for ninety-nine cents a minute; and then one day something new, a business that said they offered something unheard of before. Reliving.  It was all bullshit. 

They all only wanted one thing. Money. How do you put a dollar amount on something that is invaluable? People had found a way.

“Sorry, I understand. The only thing we need is your final signatures,” Sam said as he withdrew a few forms from his desk and placed them in front of me, “and of course, whatever form of payment you're going with.”

There it is. “Of course,” I said with a smile, pretending to reach into my pocket to grab my wallet. These con artists only sold lies. Sam here had said on the phone that they wanted two-hundred thousand dollars in order to perform the procedure as he had called it. I was surprised they didn't secure payment in advance like most scams. It allowed me to confront them face to face. Sam probably wasn't ready for a grieving man who was tired of people being preyed upon at their lowest point for personal gain. I grabbed the taser in my pocket and lunged across the table at Sam.

Sam screamed, “Michael, what are you–!” before my taser connected with his outstretched hand. He was literally shocked and went into spasms in his chair as I collided with him and we went crashing to the ground. I jumped to my feet and readied myself to taser Sam again when the door to the room burst open. Two men in white lab coats entered with two heavily armed guards in military gear behind them.

I dropped my taser and raised my hands. “Please don't shoot.” I was suddenly deathly afraid.

Sam groaned and shook his head. “Damn, Michael. I admire the spirit.” He used the desk to lift himself to his feet. “I don't blame you for being wary, but we're legit. One shot; one procedure. Before you know it you're in a different universe reliving your happiest moment. Actually reliving because you're living it again. You replace another version of yourself and get to be with your wife again. What could be better?”

Sam’s tone was friendly but having two assault rifles trained on you doesn't instill confidence. “What happens to the me I replace?” I asked, more afraid for myself at the moment and stalling for time.

Sam smiled. “You let us worry about that. Are you ready, Michael?”

I looked over at the scientists and then the guards; and then the guard's guns. “You know, it might just be cold feet, but I've already been married. You're right: this time is different. Maybe I should give it a little more thought. Two-hundred thousand is a lot of money.”

Sam sighed. “I was afraid you would say that.” My head flared with the pain of a solar flare overloading my senses as my taser connected with my neck. “It's not about the money,” Sam said as he dragged my body out from behind his desk. “We need volunteers. We've exhausted our supply of the unhoused population around here, and between you and me, we needed more viable experiments,” Sam added, clapping my cheek appreciatively. 

The two scientists each grabbed one of my arms and dragged me out of the room. I wanted to fight back, scream at them to stop, that I didn't want this anymore, but all that came out was a low moan and some of my drool.

“Try not to worry, Michael,” Sam said from behind me. “You won't even remember this part of it. We'll give you a mild sedative mixed with a retroactive-amnesiac. You'll be confused, but you'll probably accept everything at surface level. We'll keep an eye on you, monitor any side effects or adverse reactions. Just think, Michael, you're pioneering multiversal travel for the elite! You should be proud of yourself. Most people such as yourself don't achieve a fraction as much with their lives.”

“Nnnnnnnnnn,” I responded.

Sam laughed. “You're leaving quite the trail there. I think you peed yourself after I tased you. How interesting. We'll see how that plays out.”

My vision is blurred but starting to clear. I feel myself lifted up roughly and spun around then immediately pushed back; clamps are secured around my wrists and ankles like a racecar stopping in the pit. “You won't get away with this,” I groaned.

“Michael,” Sam said, almost sadly, “we've been doing this for a while now. We're out of the alpha stage. You're the first beta. Good luck.”

A needle bit into my arm; the pain was sharp and cleared my senses like the sun rising on a new day. Cold fire crept up my veins and flooded my body. It felt like I was dissolving.

“Please, stop this!” I screamed.

“It's too late, Michael. One thing: I am sorry. Really. Remember what I said about ingredients and cake? Your wife will always get cancer, there isn't a universe where she doesn't.”

I tried to scream but no sound came out of my mouth as my vision flared with white light.

“Michael! Michael! Are you okay?”

I blinked the horrifyingly bright light away, my nightmarish landscape completely changed into a heavenly scene: my beautiful soon-to-be wife Carla in an elegant wedding dress with a look of wonder and confusion on her face. 

“Did you pee yourself?” Carla whispered to me, low enough to only be heard by myself and the priest trying to officiate the wedding next to us.

“A little, I think,” I said confused. I looked out at the rows and rows of family and friends who filled the church. It looked like everyone I had ever known had been able to make it out to our special day; happy faces all around awaited our special moment, people I'd known most of my life and had grown up with. Except that man in the corner, who was–?

“Did I lose you?” Carla asked.

I turned back to her and started crying. “No, but I… I thought I had lost you… I…” I looked back to where the man was but he was gone, a figment of my nerves. I remembered this week had been very stressful leading up to our wedding day. I turned back to Carla again.

“Having second thoughts?” Carla asked, a trace of fear in her voice.

“None at all,” I said with a big smile. “Sorry everyone,” I announced to the room. “I was just taking it all in. Feels like deja vu, like we've already been married.”

The church is filled with a mixture of laughter and cries of emotion from the more sentimental.

I turned to the priest. “Sorry, if you wouldn't mind asking again.”

The priest smiled warmly. “Of course. Do you Michael Nordom take Carla Saunders to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

I grabbed both of Carla's hands. I looked into her eyes and saw the glimmer of excitement, of fear, of possibilities that were held inside of her, a future together, a life that was made better just by knowing each other. I knew I'd only have about a year with her, only a handful of months before she'd be diagnosed with cancer and eventually lose her battle. Who knows, maybe it'll be different this time? Sam said I wouldn't remember, but for whatever reason, the fog has lifted and the life I lived and lost is still there. Against every possibility in my universe, I’m standing here in a different one being offered a second chance to lose it all again. I'm going to take it.

“I do.”