by Scott Meyer
“I’m Agent Murphy. I’m with the Department of the Treasury.” Murphy produced his badge. Todd read every word engraved on it.
When he was finished Todd asked, “Do you play video games?”
“Not since I was in college.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. They’ve gotten so good! They’re doing amazing things these days. The standards for the graphics have gotten so high, even the worst games look great, so they’ve had to start getting more creative with the story.”
Murphy looked down at the thin booklet Todd had been reading when he entered, which was lying on the bed. It was indeed the strategy guide for a game called Bioshock 2. Todd saw where he was looking and said, “The Bioshock games are a good example. At first glance you might think it’s just a game where you run around shooting people, but there’s a lot more to do than that.”
Murphy was trying to make sense of the image on the cover, which was a city, a whale, and a man in a diving suit with a drill for an arm. While pondering this, he absentmindedly said, “Is there?”
“Oh yeah!” Todd enthused. “There’s a ton of ways to kill people in that game other than just shooting them. You can beat them, you can electrocute them, you can set them on fire. You can blow them up, you can throw them across the room with your mind, you can have them stung to death by bees. There’s all kinds of ways to kill people.”
“In the video game,” Murphy said.
“Yeah,” Todd said. “Just like in real life.”
Murphy asked, “Do you enjoy killing people . . . in video games, Todd?”
Todd’s expression soured. “I used to. I haven’t been able to play any for a long time.” Todd motioned to the giant stack of magazines. “I read the strategy guides, but it’s not the same.”
The warden cleared his throat, which Murphy interpreted as a signal to get on to business. Murphy said, “Mr. Douglas.”
Todd interrupted, saying, “You can call me Todd.”
The warden said, “No, he can’t.”
Murphy started again. “Mr. Douglas, I’ve brought you a message.” He reached into his inside pocket and produced a sealed envelope. Todd’s eyes followed the envelope.
“Who’s it from?” Todd asked.
Murphy silently turned the envelope around so that Todd could see where Jimmy had written “Merlin” in the fanciest script he could muster with a number-two pencil.
Todd’s expression changed instantly from a smile to a snarl. “What does he want?”
Murphy handed him the letter. “Read it and find out.” Murphy hadn’t told the warden about the letter. It wouldn’t have made sense to the warden if he had.
Todd snatched the letter away before the warden had a chance to object, retreating to the back of his cell. He scowled as he tore the envelope open. He unfolded the letter and started reading, his lips moving slightly as he did so. He laughed bitterly, then he cursed, then continued reading in silence. When he finished the letter, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, crumpling the letter in the process. Then he smoothed out the letter and read it again. When he’d finished the second read through, he turned to Agent Murphy.
“You got a pen and paper?”
Agent Murphy reached into his pocket and produced a notepad and a pen, which he clicked open.
Todd said, “You write this down, ’cause I’m only going to say it once.”
22.
Phillip opened his eyes and saw a sideways landscape of unfamiliar pillows in the foreground, an unfamiliar wall in the background, and Brit the Younger’s sleeping face in between. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. As his brain booted up, he replayed the previous night in his memory. When he was done, he went back and replayed a couple of his favorite bits a couple of times.
Pleasant though the past was, Phillip knew it was time to deal with the present. He looked at Brit and reflected on the fact that the present seemed pretty nice too. The future, however, was a minefield.
If I get up and leave, he thought, I’m the selfish guy who got what he wanted and ran. If I stick around, I’m the clingy guy who overstayed his welcome. I’d better decide what to do fast, or else she’ll wake up and I’ll be the creepy guy who was watching her sleep with a worried look on his face.
What Phillip needed was a distraction, something that would wake her up, and hold her attention through the awkward, Hey, why is Phillip here, oh that’s right, phase of the morning. Phillip knew that his staff was nearby, and he might be able to magic up a diversion, but in order for that to work, he’d have to put on his robe and hat, and he especially didn’t want her to wake up and find him getting dressed. Besides, all of the spells that he could think of to use as a distraction were sort of a dead giveaway. He pictured himself saying, Ha, look at that, Brit, a six-foot pillar of flame here in your bedroom, for no reason. That’s something, isn’t it? Oh, and now it’s gone. So, how did you sleep?
Phillip felt despair. Then he felt anger at himself for being the guy that wakes up in bed with a beautiful woman and has it cause him despair. He rolled onto his back and resigned himself to wait for the inevitable awkwardness when Brit awoke. He looked at the ceiling for a few moments, then the door swung open.
Nik swept into the room with a tray of food and a glass of some sort of juice. “Good morning,” he said, as he walked around to Phillip’s side of the bed. Phillip sat up and Nik and placed the tray on his lap.
“Good morning, Nik,” Phillip said, grateful, not just for the food, but also for a far better distraction than he could have imagined. The plate on his tray contained eggs and some sort of fried meat. Phillip hadn’t realized he was hungry until he saw the food, and now he could think of little else. He turned to look at Brit, and found her bleary-eyed but awake, and pulling herself into a seated position.
Nik said, “Don’t go anywhere. Now that our guest has been served, I’ll be right back with yours.”
Brit and Phillip smiled at each other and said good morning.
Phillip said, “Nik seems to be in a good mood today.”
“Yeah,” Brit said, “I’m sure he’s happy. He always says I should have a man in my life.”
Phillip said, “What about him?”
Nik returned with an identical tray of food, which he placed on Brit’s lap, and said, “I already have enough men in my life, but thanks for asking.”
They enjoyed their breakfast in a cheerful mutual silence. When they were finished eating, Brit turned to Phillip, smiled, and said, “So.”
Phillip returned the smile, and the “So.” Okay, he thought, the ball’s in her court. Let’s see what she does with it.
Brit said, “I think last night went very well.”
Phillip laughed, largely out of relief, and said, “I wholeheartedly agree.”
Phillip thought he sensed some relief in Brit’s laugh as well.
After a long pause, Brit asked, “Do you think Martin suspects?”
Phillip said, “I don’t think he suspects. I think he’s absolutely certain.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he knew where I was going. He knows I didn’t come back. He’s not concerned for my safety, or else he’d have called.”
Brit nodded. “Yup, Martin knows.”
Phillip looked at Brit sideways, and said, “Look, if that’s a problem, I can just go back in time to an hour after I left. I could tell him that you were fine, and nothing happened. Of course, my internal clock would be eight hours off then, and I’d probably fall asleep in our meetings today, but I’ll do it if you want.”
Brit put her hand on Phillip’s to stop him. “No, it’s fine, Phillip. I don’t mind him knowing. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?”
“Gwen,” Phillip said. “He probably already has.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Phillip said. “It’s an excuse to talk to Gwe
n, and Martin never passes up one of those.”
“But it’s so early.”
Phillip held up a finger, as if to say one moment, then he held up his right hand and said, “komuniki kun Martin.” The empty space in Phillip’s palm was filled with a silvery, glowing image of the bust of Santo, the Mexican wrestler from Martin’s staff. Normally an eerie organ sting would have played to signify Martin’s phone ringing, but it had barely started before Martin answered. The bust of Santo was replaced with the head and shoulders of Martin, who had a sickeningly happy look on his face.
Martin said, “Yeah?”
Phillip said, “Hi, Martin.”
Martin kept smiling. Neither man said anything until Martin finally asked, “Are you . . .” His voice trailed off and he shrugged, but he still had the same nauseating smile.
Phillip sighed, and said, “Yes, I’m with Brit.”
Martin laughed diabolically, and gave exaggerated thumbs up. The laugh went on much longer than was dignified, which was, of course, exactly how Martin wanted it.
Phillip said, “Okay, okay. Look, have you told Gwen yet?”
“Of course,” Martin said. “She’s here right now.”
Gwen’s head appeared over Martin’s shoulder. She had the same sickening smile on her face. “Good for you Phillip! Where are you now?”
Phillip winced, and admitted, “I’m at Brit’s place.”
Gwen said, “Ooh, put her on!”
Brit leaned in close, and Phillip twisted his arm so that her head would be in view.
Brit said, “Good morning.”
Instead of saying good morning back, Gwen gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up and laughed like a crazy woman. She did this alone for a moment, then Martin joined her, both in the laughing and the thumbs.
Brit and Phillip laughed a bit in spite of themselves, then Phillip said, “Oh, shut up. We’ll see you both at the summit.” He clenched his hand, hanging up.
The night before, Martin had waited for Phillip to finally do what they both knew he wanted to do: go check on Brit. Then he’d waited for Phillip to return. Then, when it became clear that he wouldn’t be back that night, he waited until morning when he could talk about it with Phillip if Phillip showed up, and Gwen if he didn’t. When morning came, it was clear that Phillip had not returned, so Martin arranged to meet Gwen for breakfast. That’s where they were when they got Phillip’s call.
They had a table at a surprisingly modern outdoor café. Martin was not surprised to find that coffee was on the menu, despite the fact that South America wouldn’t be discovered by Europe for hundreds of years. He was surprised at how good it was, though. When Gwen arrived, they ordered their breakfast, then Martin shared his news, which made both of them very happy, not just because their friends were presumably happy, but also because they could good-naturedly rake both of them over the coals about it for a few days. The phone call came just before their food arrived. They spent the meal idly discussing the situation while they ate.
“I’m surprised that Phillip worked so fast,” Gwen said. “He’s never seemed all that romantic to me.”
“Well, he doesn’t show that side to you, Gwen. You’re like a sister to him.”
Gwen smiled. “Are you saying he’s shown that side of himself to you?”
“Not directly,” Martin said, just defensively enough to make it clear he was in on the joke. “But I know it’s there. Guys like Phillip are like, hmm . . . You know those cheap frozen chicken pot pies you get from the grocery store? Phillip’s like one of those. He’s all bland and beige on the surface, a little bit flaky too, but underneath, on the inside, he’s a scalding hot, bubbling mass of passion and gravy. And peas.”
“And chicken?” Gwen offered.
“Less than you’d think,” Martin said.
Back at Brit’s apartment, she and Phillip were dressed and ready to face the day, but not together. They had decided that it would be for the best to keep things quiet for now, and both of them emerging from her front door didn’t feel like the way to make that happen. Instead, they decided that she would leave via the door and walk to the summit as usual, and that Phillip would teleport back to his room and go to the summit from there. Nik came out to the living room to see them off, but was not having much success at it.
“Go on,” Phillip said. “Get going. Once you’re gone, I’ll teleport out and meet you at the summit.”
Brit said, “No, you go first. Then I’ll go.”
Phillip shook his head. “No, you go now. Then me.”
Brit crossed her arms. “I don’t see why I should go first.”
“Maybe I enjoy watching you walk away.”
Brit blushed slightly, then said, “Maybe I enjoy watching you walk away.”
Phillip said, “See, I’m going to teleport, so all you’d see is me disappearing. There’s not a lot of fun in that.”
Nik said, “I disagree. Look, you two kids have to get going or you’ll both be late, and that’ll look just as suspicious as you two leaving here together anyway.”
Brit said, “Nik’s right.”
“Yeah,” Phillip said.
Brit said, “I should go.”
Phillip said, “Yeah, me too.”
Phillip and Brit said, in unison, “Right after you.” Then they laughed like teenagers.
Nik walked over and opened the door. He grabbed Brit by the hand and said, “Come on. Time to go. The sooner you two get to your meeting, the more time you can spend making googly eyes at each other,” as he pulled her out the door.
Gwen lifted her napkin from her lap and put it on her plate before pushing the plate away.
“You have to hand it to Brit and Phillip,” she said, settling back in her seat. “They figured out what they wanted, and they didn’t waste a lot of time getting it.”
Martin took his time parsing Gwen’s statement. After mentally double checking it, he leaned forward and said, “You know, when I realized that Phillip wasn’t coming back, I seriously considered coming to visit you.”
“Really,” Gwen said.
Martin said, “Yeah.”
They stared at each other for a moment, then Martin asked, “Should I have?”
Gwen shrugged and said, “If you have to ask, then probably not.” She smiled as she said it, but that didn’t alter the meaning much for Martin.
He chuckled once, mirthlessly, and said, “Then I’m glad I didn’t,” as he stood up to leave.
Gwen smiled and said, “Oh, Martin.”
Martin leaned in and said, “Gwen, save it. Look, I’ve made my position perfectly clear.”
“Perfectly,” Gwen said.
“Yes. Gwen, you say that like it’s something I should be embarrassed about, but I’m not embarrassed. I’m interested. I have been since day one, and I am now. If something’s holding us up, it’s not me, so please don’t act like my uncertainty is the problem.”
Gwen’s smile disappeared. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying exactly what it sounds like I’m saying. That’s the beauty of me, Gwen. I’m clear. You, on the other hand, hint that I’m not direct enough, but every time I’ve tried to take the bull by the horns, you’ve shot me down.”
“And then you’ve mixed your metaphors.” Gwen’s smile came back, but it had changed, and not for the better.
Martin said, “A mixed metaphor is like a beautiful woman.”
“How so?”
“They can both make a guy look stupid.”
Martin turned to leave, but only got one step before his right hand started glowing and emitting a chime. Martin’s shoulders sagged as he lifted his hand, answering the call.
“What?” Martin said.
Phillip’s face appeared in Martin’s hand. He looked panicked. “Martin, is Gwen still with you?”
“Yeah.
”
“Good. You two come meet me at the doctor’s, now. There’s been another attack on Brit!”
Gwen heard. Martin hung up and a second later they both disappeared.
Across the street, Ampyx put down the brand new kilt he hadn’t really been considering buying, shook his head, and walked away.
23.
“Shut up, Jimmy! I’ve heard enough out of you! I wish I’d never met you! You’ve been nothing but trouble to my partner and me, and I curse the day you turned yourself in!”
Agent Miller shook his head, put his hand on Agent Murphy’s shoulder, and said, “Take it easy, Murph.”
Murphy’s calm façade was usually impenetrable, but a man can only take so much, and Jimmy had given them more than enough. In the short time they’d known Jimmy they’d gone from being federal agents, treated with fear and respect by the civilians, to being hobos, treated with scorn and contempt by railroad security, which was a clear demotion.
Then they’d gone from being hobos to being security guards at a warehouse full of old files, which, while less clear, they still saw as a demotion. At least hobos choose to do nothing. Watchmen are ordered to do nothing.
They’d been deprived of sleep, of their homes, of human interaction, and of their dignity. Miller had spent most of the time yelling, but Murphy allowed himself no such outlet, and instead kept it all bottled up. He’d remained good-natured and cheerful through the entire ordeal, including his trip to Florida. He even came back laughing about the flight home, in which he had the middle seat between two rather large people who both had raised their arm rests.
He had returned with Todd’s answer to Jimmy. Murphy didn’t have to read it; he’d had it dictated to him, and he knew it to be a string of tech gibberish. Arcane abbreviations, directions to do things that made no sense to him. Stuff like, “Type dir. Select menu item three. Use trumpet wind-sock.” He knew roughly what it all meant, but he was unsure that it would have any effect. He’d transcribed the instructions as best he could, and delivered them to Jimmy. Now, together, they were trying to follow them, and it was slow going, made worse by Jimmy. He was clearly getting frustrated, and it was making him bossy, which was the last straw for Agent Murphy.