Paul Melko - The Walls of the Universe

“He knelt down in the middle of us and began fiddling with his transfer.

“ ‘Didn’t think I’d leave you, eh? You’re my buds.’

“He must have used all that thing’s juice. He whipped us all out of there.”

“To where?”

“To here, of course. This universe. I turned around to thank him. Only he was choking on his own blood. One of the paths must have got him just as he transferred. Only he got the device too. The projectile had passed through the control deck into Kryerol’s chest.”

“So you were stranded here,” Prime said. “All of you. Where are the rest?”

“You really don’t know?”

“I only see you. Did you kill them?” Prime asked with a false joviality. What Corrundrum was telling him was nearly impossible to assimilate quickly. But he needed to keep Corrundrum talking.

“We headed for the beacon near the Serpent Mound,” Corrundrum said. “This world isn’t dead, at least. We didn’t have to walk. But we didn’t realize it was infested. The Primes had abandoned it long ago, and a band of paths had the beacon area under surveillance. They captured the rest of us. But you know that, don’t you.”

“What?”

“You’d have to know that,” Corrundrum said. He leaned back, pulling his winter coat back to reveal the black handle of a gun.

“This is a public place,” Prime said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I have no illusions they’re still alive. It’s been ten years. But I want in on it,” Corrundrum said. “I want a piece of this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t be so stupid to try and do this and not be a part of them,” Corrundrum said. “But you’re in trouble now, so I have leverage. This murder thing. You can’t get out from under it. Why not? These paths are making billions here. You could buy your way out of anything. So you must be an offshoot. You must be making some play that you don’t want them to know about. So I have something over you.”

“I got another idea,” Prime said. “You’re psychotic. You’re spinning science fiction tales in a coffee shop with someone you’ve been stalking. Maybe you’re the person in trouble now, mentally.”

“No, I’ve been watching you,” Corrundrum said. “You believe my story. You’re second generation at least, but you’ve heard the stories. You understand what I’m saying. You people owe me.” Corrundrum stood up. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll tell them. I know where they are. Or at least where they’re looking. They’ll be interested in knowing what you’re doing with the Cube, I bet.”

“Sit down,” Prime hissed. When he didn’t, Prime grabbed Corrundrum’s wrist and slammed him into his seat. Corrundrum could have reached for his gun, but he seemed shocked that Prime had resorted to violence.

“You’ve got it wrong, you fuck,” Prime whispered. “I’m trapped here just like you.”

Corrundrum shook his head.

“I had a device,” Prime said. “It was broken. It got me here… there, I mean. I… gave it away. It’s gone.”

“You had a transfer? And you stopped in this shithole universe?”

“This is what I was used to.”

Corrundrum leaned back, confused. Then he laughed. “You’re not even a singleton, are you?”

“What?”

“You’re some backwater kid who got a transfer and you don’t even understand what you had.” Corrundrum stood up, his face dazed. He began to laugh. “You have no idea, do you?”

“I didn’t before,” Prime said. “But I think I’m getting it.”

Corrundrum said, “You’re worthless to me. You’re not even an original.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “So long, kid. Sorry for bothering you. Good luck. When they find you, don’t tell ’em you know me.”

“Hold on!” Prime cried, but Corrundrum was already out the door. Prime watched as he started his car. Corrundrum gave him a shrug and a roguish smile.

Prime wrote down the license plate number as the car disappeared into the cold night.

Regardless of Charboric’s dire demand for the source of the pinball idea, the lawyers decided that the head-to-head versions of the pinball machines were so different from anything that John had seen that the patent work could go forward. They filed several more patents on different pinball technologies in January.

Visgrath sent them dozens of tall Aryan men who spoke little English but came with glowing references from him or Charboric. They didn’t bother hiring any of them, and instead brought on a squat, reserved shop foreman named Viv, who seemed to inspire a fear of death in her workers. She had her own recommendations for workers that resulted in a fifty-person staff on the floor by February, working at 100 percent capacity to fill the orders they had coming in. The Vegas deal had come through after all, as had a dozen smaller orders.

As classes picked up, John’s time became sparse. At first he didn’t notice, but when Grace missed class for the third straight day, he realized something was up.

“What gives?” he said. “You missed thermodynamics again.”

Grace shrugged. They were in an office on the foreman’s deck, overlooking the factory floor below. Because of their school schedule, they ran the floor from the afternoon to midnight.

“Yeah, it’s boring,” she said.

“We have a test on Friday.”

“Henry told me.”

“You need to come to class.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, okay,” John said. “Sorry. I’ll get you my notes if you want.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Why?”

“I dropped the class,” Grace said, looking away. “I dropped all my classes.”

“You what? All?”

“Yeah, college dropout, that’s me.”

“You should have told me you were going to do that, so I could have-”

“-talked me out of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Why?” John said.

She spread her arms. “This, of course.”

“This? Pinball Wizards?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s working. It’s really working. Our accounts receivable are huge. I mean millions of dollars. I could double the shop floor size based on the projections. It’s that big.”

“You didn’t have to drop out.”

“You can’t run a million-dollar business part-time,” Grace said.

“We could have hired someone.”

“We already have Visgrath to deal with,” Grace said. “No way am I dealing with a CEO who isn’t one of us.”

“Then Henry or I could-”

Grace shrugged. “It’s better if I do it.”

John marveled at how different Grace was. Her clothes were different. Her manners were different. He remembered suddenly her drunken admission three months ago.

“You’ve changed; you’ve become a businesswoman,” John said.

“Yeah, I’m different. I feel all grown-up.”

John was aware of her shapely body. Her skin was clean, and she had used perfume. That wasn’t the Grace he had met in September.

“Grace-,” John said.

Suddenly she turned away, and John felt awkward. She handed him a package. “I almost forgot. Kyle dropped this off. Just for closure, he said.”

“Yeah.” The lawsuit and push back from the city of Toledo had all just faded away as if they had never happened. John remembered how tense December had been, how desperate they were for a solution, and how Visgrath had been their savior with the infusion of cash. In hindsight, their desperation seemed so trivial.

John slit the envelope open with his thumb. Inside were a dozen legal-sized documents. When he looked up, Grace was at the door of the office.

“I have to-I have to go check in with Viv,” she said. “See ya in a bit.”