Y.A.I.W.L.R.
By Paul Stansfield

(continued)

"You're looking for guidance, Doyle. Advice, answers. I might be able to help." Adlai stretched a hand across the table. "Take this woman's hand, and I'1l show you things." Doyle hesitated. "What have you got to lose? You were contemplating suicide anyway; what's another hour or so?"

With that Doyle shrugged. He hadn't revealed that to anyone either. She/He/It had a point. He reached out and linked up.

Instantly the room was gone, replaced by blackness. Complete, utter darkness, not even a glimmer of stars. The only sensory information that Doyle could perceive was the grip of the psychic's hand, and the sound of Adlai' s voice.

"Relax, Doyle. It takes time to get to where we're headed. Which is the future, by the way, 2051."

"Oh, I get it. Like in that Christmas movie with Jimmy Stewart. You'll show me how the world will be better with me in it, to convince me not to kill myself."

"Well, yes, basically. Only the world isn't necessarily better or worse with you in it, just different. Very different, as a matter of fact."

"So you're my guardian angel, then."

"No. Just an interested observer."

"But what kind of an observer? Angel or demon?"

Adlai laughed. It was a high pitched, very merry sound. "I'm both of these, and neither."

"Fine, Riddler. But you are clearly working for good, since you're trying to deter my suicide."

"I'm not anti-suicide. That's up to the individual. I just want you to make an informed decision, that's all."

"Is this done for all would-be suicides?"

"I don't know for sure. I don't think so, but who knows? You've probably had a bigger impact than most other people."

"You don't seem to know much, do you?"

"Hush. We're at our first stop. Appropriately, it's involved with birth. A fertility clinic. Let's see what changes you've wrought." Immediately there was light again, and what looked like a normal doctor's waiting room appeared. There were about fifteen people sitting on the chairs, men and women; some obviously together, some alone. It was like watching a 3-D television screen. Doyle couldn't see himself, or the psychic. Only her grip let him know that she, and he were there at all. Doyle peered more closely at the people. Most of the women wore shirts or dresses, and most of the men wore suits and hats. All the men were clean shaven, and all but one of the women had visible tattoos.

"Looks pretty typical. Their dress and grooming is a little strange, almost out of the 1940's. But other than that..."

"Indeed. Fashion is cyclical. And chair and table technology hasn't advanced much. But check out the expectant women more closely. There's your first change."

Doyle did, squinting his eyes in effort. "Wait a sec, am I nuts, or are they all giving off some weird light?"

Adlai chuckled. "Yes! It's tougher to see under the bright lights in this office, but pregnant women literally glow. It gets more intense as they progress. By the fifth or sixth month they can turn out all the lights and read by their own luminescence."

"But how? Some sort of radiation?"

"I'm not sure exactly why. I do know it's harmless. Let's move on." Their position shifted, and now they were floating directly above one of the waiting couples. They were filling out a form. "Look at the third line."

Doyle did. It said, "Conception Date _/_/_." He scanned the surrounding lines and didn't see "Birthdate" anywhere.

"That's right, Doyle. With improved technology, a person's exact moment of creation can be pinpointed. So now the more accurate conception day is the important one. Whether you pop out during the 37th week or the 42nd is fairly arbitrary, after all, from an exact age standpoint."