Today’s Ada spent half-nine until ten constructing tomorrow’s Ada. Today’s Ada had filled her wardrobe with jeans, blue t-shirts and one sparkling dress, but tomorrow’s Ada might burn all that. Today’s Ada was happily married, but her wife would be tomorrow’s room-mate. And of the plans to have lunch with her colleague tomorrow? Yes, today’s Ada decided, those plans would remain.
####
Ada, dressed in black, left the next day without kissing Joyce goodbye—though they did hug—and said hello to no-one at her work. She sat at her desk, and without pause, worked on designs for the latest edition of Psyche-Viewers. She evaluated proposals, performed calculation after calculation, and ran simulations until she felt faint. Before she succumbed to her hunger, Jeremy coerced her away for the planned lunch.
In the park by Psyche Offices, they sat together on a bench by a pond. Ada ate with exact motions, although some rejected part of her was pleading her to stuff all the food in her mouth as fast as she could. She stared at the lake and made herself think how efficiently she could her work when she returned.
“They de-Dusted my house yesterday,” Jeremy said. “Can’t say I’ve felt any different. Maybe a bit more peaceful, but that could be down to anything. When they let this information go public, they’re thinking of issuing Dusters to people’s homes, and I’m testing it out first.”
“You’re that sure you’d be better off without the Dust?”
“Well,” Jeremy said, looking to the pond. “It’s not my specialism, so I don’t know the details. But I trust they wouldn’t be offering this if it was that dangerous.”
“Oh, I see.” Ada ate her last mouthful of food. “Not my specialism either. Back to work then, I suppose.” Ada took the shortest route back to the Offices that she could see, which involved trampling over a flowerbed and jumping over a hedge.
When she returned to her desk, she did not leave for many hours. When she finally did, it was because Jeremey, seeing her twitching and cursing at her monitor, convinced her to let him drive her home. She complained that it was unnecessary but thanked him for the ride.
After greeting Joyce, Ada went to do more work in her room, noticed that the bags she had discarded all her blue clothes into had been removed, and fell asleep at her desk after a short while. She woke her in her bed to Joyce watching over her.
“Hi,” Joyce said. “Are you alright?” She reached her hand out to stroke Ada’s face but stopped herself. She knew this Ada wasn’t her wife.
“Hi, Joyce. I’m quite well. What’s the time?”
“It’s half six. I made you dinner, if you want.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Joyce tried to help Ada sit up, but this was met with a soft “No, thanks.” Ada sat up by herself and was given a plate of stir-fry. “Ah, it’s good you cooked this. I’m vegetarian today.” Joyce smiled a bit and watched Ada eat.
“Dusters came around earlier,” Joyce told Ada. “I told them to go away.”
“Oh?” said Ada.
“Yes. We’ve always lived with the Dust, right?” Ada nodded, and took another bite of her food. She chewed it and stared the blanket she was under. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go around de-Dusting places without more research.”
“Joy,” Ada said.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.” Ada’s voice had a slight tremor. “I can’t stop loving you, even if I’m not your wife today. Lie with me?”
Joyce smiled at Ada and stroked her face gently. “I won’t stop loving you whether you this Ada or that Ada.”
“Why?”
“Because the important bits always stay.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“True,” Joyce said as she slipped under the blanket and cradled Ada’s head on her chest. “But I’m confident.”
“Thank you.” Ada closed her eyes and Joyce put her plate to the side. “What do you think of the Dust?”
“I don’t know, really.” Joyce thought for a moment. “It’s just dandruff of the soul, right? But I don’t think that really tells us anything about what it does.” Ada nodded. “If we could find something more about it, make a hypothesis that seems even a little plausible, maybe they’ll keep funding us.” Joyce went quiet. “That doesn’t really answer your question. I’m sorry.”
“You’re doing important work, Joy,” Ada said. “Soul-science used to be laughed at. We’ve made progress.”
“Yes, but it’s going to be laughed at again if those de-Dusters keep acting before we know what we’re dealing with. They’re going door-to-door now.” Joy looked at Roger, they grey cat curled up on the corner of the bed. “Have you ever seen the de-Dusting process?”
Ada shook her head. She assumed the question was directed at her and not the cat.
“It’s gross. I saw them do it once. They whack the air until this white mass plops out. It looks alive—it’s got a fat little body, and a stubby tale tapering off, and by looking at it, you’d think it’s sticky. I don’t know if it actually is—I wouldn’t touch it. It wriggles around unenthusiastically for a bit, like it’s only doing it because we expect it to. Then, when it goes still, they collect it in a Ferry-box and take it off to do experiments.” Joy shook her head. “I suppose I better get used to it; I’ll be getting a shipment soon.”
The couple said no more after that. After an hour or so, Joyce went to wash up, and Ada insisted on helping.
From half-nine until ten, today’s Ada designed tomorrow’s Ada, who didn’t mind blue, loved her wife, and would take the day off work.
####
When Joyce left, Ada kissed her goodbye twice.
Some hours later, the Dusters came around again. “Hi. We don’t want any,” Ada told them.
“Normally we’d respect that,” the Duster said, stepping forward and extending his stick out. He nodded to himself. “But just as we were told, your house is very Dusty. Abnormally so. We need to take a sample.”
“Are you saying we don’t have a choice in this?” she said.
“I’m afraid so. We’ll only be a moment.” Over his shoulder, Ada saw another two white-coated Dusters. “It won’t be hard to find a deposit here, so if you could step aside.”
Today’s Ada complied, although she noted that yesterday’s Ada would have slammed the door shut. Today’s Ada told them they could only take one sample. The Duster nodded. He stepped just three feet into house, a trail of tiny-white blobs dropping off his stick as it moved through the air, until he stopped. He found a deposit. He poked the air a few times to confirm, then called the others over. They struck the spot they found, and they struck it repeatedly. It sounded like wood on flesh, even though Ada couldn’t see what they were hitting.
This went on for a long time. If Ada weren’t so annoyed at them invading her house like this, she’d be impressed at the Dusters stamina.
Then they finished but it wasn’t a white-blob that plopped out. It was slimy (perhaps sticky) child without a face, nails, genitals, or hair. The Dusters leapt back and watched it twitch on the ground. Ada covered her mouth, but stared, frowning in discomfort.
After it went still, and the Dusters regained their composure, they retrieved a large Ferry-box inscribed with usual signs for containment and placed the child-facsimile inside. They did not say goodbye and did not close the door.
