Into the Fourth Universe

by Robert Wingfield

  “Not this one; I poured it myself. See.” She took a good swig from the glass. “Yuk.”

  He tasted it suspiciously. “Seems okay. Ta.” He knocked the pint back in one draught. “Any more? This investigating is thirsty work.”

  She poured another for him. “Right, now I suppose I owe you a full explanation.”

  “Or two.”

  “Or more.”

  “Go on then, start with where you were murdered.” The Magus tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away.

  “I wasn’t really. It was just an act.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “I have some important work to do; work too dangerous to get you involved. You would have been killed…”

  “I was. That dude who tried to shoot me at home would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the Doku.”

  “Those smelly creatures, but yes, you’re right; that was a misunderstanding. You see, I had to get you thrown off the smell.”

  “Scent?”

  “Where doku are concerned, no. If you thought I was dead, I hoped you would leave me alone to do what I have to do, especially if you were underground. Didn’t you realise there was a breathing tube there?”

  “I didn’t see one.”

  “Arthur again! I wish he would do what I tell him. Tube or no tube, fortunately you survived.” She handed him a plate of biscuits. “Jammy Dodger?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I was going to send someone to dig you up when I was far enough away.”

  “So what’s all this about, really?”

  She ignored the question. “Then you started trying to find me, and I really don’t know how you eventually traced me…”

  “I’m an investigator; it’s my job.”

  “Ye-ess.” She gave him a look which implied she thought he would not be able to find a wedge of cheese, even if it was hanging from his hat. “That was a surprise, so when I found out you were following, I arranged the welcome committee. They were supposed to meet you and be sociable. You were meant to find the business card with the details of the pleasure planet, follow that clue and be distracted a bit longer…”

  “And what were you doing living there?”

  “You were away for long periods.” She had the decency to look a little contrite. “You see, it was a Women’s Gilding Club outing, but we had so much fun I bought a house.”

  “With my money?”

  “With our money; you gave me an allowance. Did you think I spent it all on shower gel?”

  “Actually yes.”

  “I did spend most of it on that, but I worked my passage.”

  “Sounds like a lot of other people did, too.” The Magus tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  “Don’t be rude. As I said, I was hoping the distraction would keep you there.”

  “I would have done after I’d tracked down your house, but after sharing the cab with Arthur it reopened the investigation.”

  “So then I tried the trick with the high explosive in Customs quarantine. I knew they would take it off me as I tried to board the ship, and I also knew it would only be a matter of time before doku and explosive came into contact.”

  “You blew up my herd!”

  “They blew themselves up. And then of course I persuaded the authorities to charge you, as the owner, for the inconvenience. The idea being to keep you stuck there until I’d finished.”

  “Finished what? Are you going to tell me at last?”

  “But you managed to get out of that.” She ignored his question again. “As a matter of interest, how did you do that?”

  “Gottstein sorted it for me with business acumen.”

  “Praise the Charman.”

  “So what about that explosion on my flight over here?”

  “Arthur again I’m afraid, or one of his minions. I asked him to delay you for a few days; he thought I meant ‘for ever’. Fortunately you survived that and now here you are.”

  “Here I am, despite everything. So what is this big plan that I can’t help you with?”

  “You won’t like it, but let me show you.” She went over to a picture of a safe on the wall and opened it. Behind was a safe. “Double-bluff,” she explained. “Works every time.” A combination was dialled in, a thumbprint was made, there was a quick phone-call to a security company to get their half of the password, and finally she gave it a sharp tap on the bottom left hand corner with the end of a pair of scissors. The door opened. The Magus gaped. Inside was a five-pointed artefact, dimly illuminating the paperwork and wads of cash.

  “You’ve got Tom’s star!” he blurted.

  “No.”

  “Suzanne’s?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, you haven’t wiped Kara out and taken hers then?” he said hopefully. “No don’t touch it; you’ll get burnt.”

  She took it out and showed it to him. “This one is my own,” she smiled. “I tracked it down using methods no doubt already discussed when my devious partner was about to terminate you.”

  “Yes, he did explain. But what do you need it for? Why couldn’t you tell me about it?”

  “Because I’m not from this place.”

  “Hopefully not.” He gazed out of the window at the torrents of rain.

  “No, I mean, not from this universe.”

  “Oh, but from where?”

  “There is another universe out there. That one is my real home.”

  “So how did you get here?”

  “I walked from the port.”

  “No, I mean, into this universe.”

  “It was a bit of an accident. There I was busily running a brilliant scam where you attach a large chunk of metal to the wheel of a car and only take it off again when the owner gives you a load of cash.”

  “Lucrative; I assume it all went wrong?”

  “Yes, I was hounded by a posse of out-of-work traffic wardens, and accidentally fell through a portal. I couldn’t find how to get back. I realised that I needed to find the key, my own Star, which must have been responsible for pulling me through. ”

  “But you latched on to me…”

  “I only used you to stay close to the other Stars I’m afraid. I really need to leave this universe, and I didn’t want you trying to follow. In fact you will be unable to; the way the rifts have been closing up, only a few special people can now move freely between them. They have to use the Stars, although I believe there are other trigger objects still working if I could find out what they were.”

  “So what’s so special about this other universe?”

  “It’s my home.”

  “You said that, but what else? Why do you really have to go?”

  “There is a rift; a tear between the universes. Each of them is sucking the life out of the other. If we don’t close the rift, we’re all going to disappear.”

  “Sounds like a challenge. When do we go, and to where?”

  “We don’t; this is something I have to do by myself. I won’t be able to come back and I have to leave now. That’s why I got the Star out. It’s time.”

  He caught her hand. “Rannie, please don’t leave me. I need you.”

  She smiled. “I’m leaving you this club, the house on the pleasure planet and of course the main doku herd on Glenforbis.”

  “But I won’t have you,” he wailed. “What will I do?”

  “I believe the University of Gondwanaland is offering a bursary for research into a cure for the Dokuvirus. You could do something useful with your life.”

  “But I need company and all those other things…”

  “I suggest you talk to that taxi driver back on ‘Freedom’. She really likes you. I’ve had your horoscopes done. You’re perfect for each other. You might need to move your office to somewhere less smelly though.”

  “You set me up with her?”

  “She seemed like a nice girl and she really goes for the hirsute look
.”

  “I’m not letting you go.” He gripped her arms to her sides.

  She smiled and kissed him. “I’m afraid you are.”

  His vision blurred. The room shimmered. He felt his senses slipping. “What have you done?” he muttered as he felt his legs going way. “You said the drink wasn’t drugged…”

  “The first one, no,” said Rannie, lowering him gently on to a couch. “The second one was. You forgot your first rule of investigation; never ever ever accept a drink from a dame.”

  Tom looks into a Hole

  T

  om was having yet another meeting with Errorcode. “Right Monty, I need to review that joint venture between us and Nishant on the other side of the Island.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t yet, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “There is still a backlog of service incidents outstanding which are denying us access. It is too risky.”

  “What faults would these be?”

  “We don’t call them ‘faults’, sir, that would imply…”

  “Yes, I know.

  “If I can call up the ‘Amenitycore’ 9 system for you…”

  “On ‘Constrictions’?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But I thought that component had not yet been mounted and we were reverted to the original systems.”

  “We solved the issue, sir.”

  “And what was the problem?”

  “We don’t call them ‘problems’, sir, that would imply…”

  “Yes, I know, so what was the problem?”

  Errorcode fidgeted, apparently not expecting that question. “We couldn’t actually make the transition to the new system because there were too many unsolved incidents on the old.”

  “So how did you sort that out?”

  “We closed all the open incidents, sir.”

  “Without fixing them?”

  “Yes, sir. If people still have issues, they can raise new incidents on the new system.”

  “And the technical problems you were having? What did you do to solve those?”

  “We didn’t need to, sir. We told people the new system is working. They didn’t believe us the first four times, but we sent out regular communications telling them that they needed to make the transition immediately, and eventually they got used to it.”

  “So you solved a software problem by throwing communications at it?”

  “Effectively yes, sir. Cheapest way; you did say you wanted to save money.”

  “I did, didn’t I? Good initiative there.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I still want to see the site though, risk or no risk. By the way, what happened to my wife?”

  “I put her into rehab, sir.”

  “I must divorce her right away.”

  “You don’t want to stay married, sir?”

  “No, she isn’t the woman I knew. By the way, how long has she been in rehab?”

  “Right after you met her, sir. I made a decision. She’s been locked away since.”

  “So it isn’t her who’s been trying to kill me?”

  “No, sir; I think we understood she wouldn’t have missed you, had it been her with the gun.”

  “True, so is it you?” Tom tried to catch his aide off guard.

  Errorcode took a step backwards in shock. “Of course not, sir. Why would I want to kill you?”

  “To take control of the business, and to have my wife… oh yes, don’t think I haven’t made the connection between your trips to Gerbilblock and the fact that my house and wife were in Ratblast. You can have her if you want her, with my blessing. I’ll get Amber to organise the divorce and your own marriage if you like.”

  Errorcode rocked on his heels and the first genuine smile Tom had seen cracked his face. “Oh, sir, you have made me so happy. What can I do to thank you?”

  “Cut out the bullshit for one thing. If I ask a question, I want a straight answer.”

  “You’ll have it in future, sir.”

  “Good, now send Vac in.”

  “You called, Sah?”

  “Is your security detail ready? We’re going to look at the excavations.”

  * * *

  Vac’s tank made its way slowly along the unmade roads. Tom was getting fed up with the uncomfortable ride and the heat inside. “I’m going to need some air.”

  “Very unwise, Sah.” Vac stood to attention, cracking his helmet on the low metalwork.

  “How so?”

  “Jungle teaming with unsubs, Sah.”

  “Are you seriously saying that after all the troops you’ve deployed, and all the searches you’ve made, my life’s still in danger?”

  “Oh yes, Sah.”

  “We’re miles from anywhere; how could terrorists even know where I am?”

  “They follow the engine noise, Sah.”

  “Do they now?” I’m going to get some air anyway.” He stuck his head out of the turret, and then whipped it back down as a salvo of bullets whistled past his head. “Vac, get some of the escort to root out that sniper.”

  “Of course, Sah; I’ll send fifty men and the gunship.”

  “Fifty?”

  “Less than half of the escort, Sah.”

  “Aren’t we overdoing this a bit?”

  “No, Sah, can’t be too careful.”

  “Let me know what they find.”

  * * *

  The tank stopped again. “What’s happening now, Vac?”

  “Expeditionary force reporting back, Sah.”

  “What did they find?”

  “Nothing, Sah. The unsub had made her escape.”

  “Her, how did you know it was a ‘her’?”

  “A guess, Sah.” Vac’s blank expression faltered for a moment.

  “Give me your pistol.”

  “Beg pardon, Sah?”

  “Lend me your pistol then.”

  “But, Sah, I will be defenceless without it.”

  “I doubt it, but don’t worry, you’ve got the tank. I’m getting out.”

  “But, Sah, the unsub… It’s too dangerous.”

  Tom stuck his head out of the turret again. Another salvo of bullets splattered into the structure. He got out. A bullet whistled past his head. He walked towards the jungle. More shots kicked up the dirt around him. He stopped at the edge of the undergrowth. “You can come out now girl,” he called, “I know what you’re up to.”

  The firing stopped. There was a pause and then a rustling from the bushes and a statuesque blonde woman in the black Skagan leather uniform emerged sheepishly. “Hello Tanda,” said Tom. “You can put your hands down now.”

  “How did you know?” The woman said, “And how do you know my name?”

  “I cross-referenced the names of the Skagans I met at the inspection with the list of people signing in to the restaurant. You were the only one I hadn’t actually seen.” He called to the man in the tank. “Vac, you can come out; you have some explaining to do.”

  “Yes, Sah, sorry, Sah.” The man scrambled to join them as they headed back towards the cavalcade.

  “So, do you want to explain why you got Tanda here to take pot-shots at me every time I appeared in public?” Tom perched on the side of the tank and regarding the two Skagans dejectedly standing to attention.

  “Very difficult, Sah.”

  “Not really. Let me tell you what I think and you can lie to me as you see fit.”

  “Skagans do not lie, Sah.”

  “Good. I think that you wanted to justify all the work you were putting in with the security and the hardware, so got Tanda…”

  “Our best shot, Sah.”

  “I would hope so. So you got Tanda to shoot at me, every time I appeared, to give that idea credibility. There never were any unsubs were there?”

  Vac shook his head. “No Sah, sorry Sah.”

  “And that threat of terrorist activity gave you the exc
use to keep the whole tribe busy.”

  “Yes, Sah; we don’t get out much, Sah, and the company restaurant is free.” He paused. “But there was an attempt on your life once, Sah. You said so.”

  “Yes, but that was before I had a word with Mr Errorcode. I should be safe from him now.”

  “Could still be unsubs around though, Sah. The accident at Plank Headquarters could be signs of terrorist activity…”

  “It wasn’t though, was it?”

  “Rather not say, Sah. Please don’t ask me the question, Sah.”

  “I won't. Now, can we carry on to the excavations please? I’ll ride in one of the escort vehicles instead of inside the tank.”

  “As long as you wear goggles, Sah. There is a serious risk of ‘mygga hyska’ terrorist activity.”

  “You mean getting a fly in my eye?”

  “Can’t be too careful, Sah.”

  “Right you are; if it’ll make you happy. Now drive on to the excavation please.”

  * * *

  In the centre of the large crater was a roaring column of light, shimmering and twisting as though torn by the wind. From that distance Tom could make out the vague images of nebulae of stars mixed up and reflected through. The whole thing reminded him of a whirlpool as it spun, sucking in and shooting out pieces of dust and stones, the latter of which vanished as they hit the ground. “Oh dear; that doesn’t look good.”

  “No, Sah. Shall I send in the army?”

  “A platoon will be sufficient, thanks Vac. Tell them to be careful and see what they can find.”

  The men reported back. Tom was invited by the occupants of the low building discovered near the centre of the crater to join them. Under heavy guard, he skidded down the steep path into the hollow and made his way over to the doorway. Two Skagan troopers stood smartly to attention as he approached. “Password, sir.” He was challenged.

  “Stand aside, I’m the boss.” Tom was in no mood for delays.

  “Good enough, sir.” They opened the door for him and Tom was escorted into a complex of laboratories and conference rooms off a single central corridor.