Paul Melko: The Walls of the Universe

“What was in the bundle?” John asked as Prime slid into the passenger seat.

“Let’s just say that you’ll want to avoid any rear-end collisions,” Prime said.

“Dynamite?” John cried. His father always kept a few sticks for tree stumps.

“Yep.”

“I don’t-”

“We’re going into battle, John,” Prime said, his smile gone. “Don’t forget it. You asked for my help, and this is how it works.”

John nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. “Now what? Columbus?”

“One stop.”

They drove the eighty miles to Columbus, but instead of the office park where EmVis existed in 7650, they drove to the south side of town, to a run-down apartment complex downwind from the trash-burning power plant.

“Pull in here,” Prime said.

It was a first-floor apartment.

“Here’s what you do,” Prime said. “Give me two minutes, then knock on the door.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“What do I say?”

“ ‘Hello,’ ‘How are you?’ ‘Remember me?’ ”

“Fine.”

Prime slipped out of the car and around the side of the building. John counted to 120 and then trotted up to the door. He pounded on it, ignoring the doorbell.

He heard sounds within and ducked his head away from the peephole.

“What is it?” came a voice through the door.

John pounded again.

The door came open fast. “Goddamn it! What-”

The man was shorter than John by a foot. He looked up into John’s face, went white, then turned and ran, slamming the door.

John caught it with his foot, pushed it inward, and watched as the man scrambled over his couch to get into the kitchen and through the sliding door there. It must have led to a back patio, but the man stopped short there.

As the sliding door opened and the aluminum blinds clanked against the glass, he came face-to-face with Prime.

“Corrundrum,” Prime said. “We have some questions.”

“Christ, you two are so screwed! Doppelgangers? The vig are going to fall on you like bricks.”

Prime motioned John in, grabbed Corrundrum, and steered him toward the couch.

“We need some information,” Prime said. “You were wrong about me. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Then how’d he get here?” Corrundrum cried, pointing at John.

“We have a device,” Prime said. “We have more than one. We built more.”

Corrundrum choked on a laugh. “Build them? You’re punching unauthorized holes?”

“Holes?” John said.

“You built a device?” Corrundrum said, staring at him. “Your own device?”

“Yeah. I modeled it on the broken one.”

“They don’t break! You two are talking crap!”

John shrugged. “Your understanding is wrong.” He turned to Prime. “This guy doesn’t know anything. Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait,” Prime said. He turned to Corrundrum. “We can get you home, if you help us. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

Corrundrum’s forehead broke with sweat. He stared at Prime. Finally he said, “I hate this fucking universe! The food is crap! The entertainment is only TV! They have diseases! It’s-”

“So you’ll help us?”

“What do you want?”

“Just information.”

Corrundrum chuckled. “There are rules, you know.”

“You talked enough before.”

“I didn’t know you were a fucking native!”

“So?”

“The vig kill people who talk.”

“Why?”

Corrundrum looked at him with wild eyes. “You won’t get it. You won’t ever get it. You’re just a fixture.” He waved his hand. “You’re a set piece. A goddamn coffee table.”

“You’re talking like this is entertainment,” John said.

Corrundrum laughed. “It’s worse than that, for those of us who know.”

“Visgrath? Charboric?” John said. “Ever hear of them?”

“Sound like Vandals.”

“Spray paint?” John asked, confused.

“Capital V. ”

“Huh?”

“Goths. In the Yankee Doodle universes, the Goths sacked Rome and then a few years later Clovis sacked the Goths. Yay, Europe. Yay, America. You think it’s great, but only because it’s all you know. When the Goths win, even less great. Goth universes are some totalitarian places. In 2119, they got hold of some transfer technology. Tried to spread their way of life across a couple dozen universes. They were crushed. Some got away. This was a few decades ago. Sounds like you ran into some of the meaner ones.”

“Visigoths,” John said, shaking his head. “They’re Visigoths.”

“The descendents of Germanic tribes that defeated Rome,” Corrundrum said. “But if anyone asks, I didn’t tell you that. Oh, screw it. Did you run up against some Goths?”

“I guess so.”

“Do they know you have a transfer device?”

“Yes.”

“Well, how’d they let you get away?”

“I ran.”

“To him for help?” Corrundrum nodded at Prime.

“Who can you trust, if not yourself?”

Corrundrum snorted.

“What do they want?” John asked. “What can I give them if I negotiate?”

“Restore the Alarian Empire. Do you have twelve universes to spare?”

“We have the device, don’t we?”

“That’s what you think.”

“What can I do?”

“Run away. Leave them alone. You have a device. Go somewhere else they aren’t. Far away. Take me with you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“They have my friends.”

Corrundrum looked at John solemnly. “Hopefully they weren’t singletons.”

“You’re an ass,” John said. “Let’s go.” He stood.

Corrundrum stood up too. “Hold on; hold on. We can reach an arrangement where I get out of here, right?”

“How can you help us?” Prime asked.

“I’m no fighter,” Corrundrum said. “But I know more of what you’re fighting against than anyone. I’m a strategic asset. You’ve gotta take me with you.”

“I don’t think the device can take that many.”

“Of course it can. It’s a Mark Three? A Four?”

“How would I know?”

“Show him,” Prime said.

John wasn’t sure if they should.

“Go ahead. What do secrets matter now?” Prime added.

“I had the same thought recently,” John said. He lifted up his shirt, showing Corrundrum the device strapped to his chest.

Corrundrum stared at it. “What the hell? That’s not a-” He cast a hard glare at Prime. “Are you guys screwing with me? That’s not a transfer device.”

“What do you think a transfer device is?” John asked suddenly.

“It’s a machine to move material and people between universes, what else?”

“That’s what this does.”

“It’s not like any transfer device I’ve ever seen,” Corrundrum said. “Where’d you get it?”

John shrugged toward Prime.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Another John Rayburn gave it to me,” Prime said.

“Gave it or tricked you into using it?” John said.

“Does it matter?” Prime said.

“Yes, it does.”

“Just like you,” Prime said.

John sympathized with Prime. He couldn’t deny that he might have acted in the same way Prime had if he’d been in the same situation. In fact, he almost had. If the one-armed John hadn’t been there…

Corrundrum rubbed his head. “You know, there are universes that are off-limits to us.”

“Who’s ‘us’?” John asked.

“None of your business.”

“You want help or not?” Prime said.

“It doesn’t matter!” Corrundrum said. “Your Goths are going to kill you. Take me back to my universe first, and then I’ll help you.”

“No way!”

Corrundrum shook his head. “You don’t get it. Alarians have one hobby: killing non-Alarians. They get together and ask each other who they killed recently. How bad do you think your Goths are to get exiled by other Alarians?”