by Ramy Vance
“Yes, yes. I know what this place is and how it got here. Sort of. This is a coded message from myself. It says: ‘I, Buzz Lugger, sent these tech barns out into the multiverse to aid my fellow Buzzes and Ruebens.’”
“What the hell does that mean?” Martha said.
Buzz slapped his forehead. “It means we’re not only dealing with time warps. This is a multiple-universe issue. Rueben, I think you might be an interdimensional being.”
“I was born in New Jersey.”
Buzz continued. “I don’t think Pete is Rueben from the future at all. I think he’s from another universe like ours, but it’s somehow older. Maybe there’s another Buzz out there who is trying to help the universes fight Pete.”
Martha shook her head. “I am so lost.”
“He’s out there,” Aki called. “We better get ready to defend ourselves.”
As Rueben tried to wrap his head around this new development, he thought of one last question. “Assume that for the moment, I don’t think you’re crazy about the multiple universe thing. What was that shiny cube you placed in your pocket earlier?”
Excitement shone in Buzz’s eyes. “I’m not one hundred percent sure. But did you see the needle on it? I think it’s a prototype nanobot injector—the design is like twenty years into the future… Once I get it back to the lab, I’ll be able to hook it up to my computers and know more. Who knows, maybe I could use it to ‘cap’ Pete like he did to you, but only permanently. No promises, though.”
Buzz angled his head at the top, still spinning on the bench with extended blades. A moment later, he carefully pressed a button on top, and the blades retracted. He picked it up and tossed it to Rueben, who carefully slid it into his pocket. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.” The scientist chuckled.
Aki called, “He’s approaching the front door.”
The barn’s walls muffled Pete’s cold laughter outside. “I know you’re in there!”
They all hurriedly searched for makeshift weapons on the benchtops, but they were interrupted by the squawk of an intercom and the robotic voice saying, “Incorrect.” Then a moment later, “Incorrect.” Finally, “Incorrect. This barn will self-destruct in thirty seconds. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”
“Oh shit,” Rueben muttered. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Aki was already at the front door. “It’s no use. It’s sealed. And Pete is probably a safe distance away, watching and waiting for us.”
Rueben wanted to pull out his hair. Instead, he turned to Buzz. “There has to be a back way out of here.”
“Perhaps.”
“I know you didn’t design this barn, but if you did, where would you put it?”
“Um…”
Martha got in Buzz’s face. “Damnit, man. Use your dangerous mind!”
“Oh, um, right—”
“Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen—”
Buzz scanned the barn’s back wall, and his eyes lit up. “Follow me.”
He sprinted toward a bookcase resting in front of the wall. Rueben and the gang followed on his heels. They were cutting this dangerously close.
Buzz stopped at the bookcase and glanced over the book titles.
“Eleven, ten, nine—”
Buzz pulled on the spine of a book titled Theoretical Physics in a Theoretically Non-Existent World, and it tilted toward him like a lever. The bookcase slid to the side on oiled rails, exposing a gap in the wall and the freedom of the night outside.
“Go, go, go!” Buzz screamed, and they all ran.
“Three, two, one.”
Rueben threw out his arms and knocked all his friends down and forward onto the ground.
Behind them, silence filled the night air. Then the robotic voice said, “Goodbye,” and clicked off.
They all turned to face the barn from their position on the ground.
Rueben expected the barn’s roof to blow sky-high. Instead, an intense white light shone out from all of the barn’s corners and edges. With a barely audible poof, it reduced the barn to a flat rectangular pile of steaming ash.
Rueben blinked. “Damn…”
He suddenly stiffened as a harsh voice echoed through the night air toward them from behind some old tractors. “You better watch your back. I won’t let you ruin my plan.”
Pete. Why wasn’t he rushing in to get them now while they were vulnerable and sprawled out on the ground?
That’s when they turned to face the dirt lane off to the side and the flashing lights of police cars bearing down on them.
Chapter Thirteen
Saturday, May 20, 1:17 a.m.
Rueben grimaced as the police officer pushed him over the hood of the car and frisked him.
“You got any weapons on you, son?”
The officer found the harmless-looking razor blade top in Rueben’s pocket and chuckled, placing it into an evidence bag along with Rueben’s phone and wallet.
“No,” Rueben answered, scanning the darkness. Pete was still out there, and he said he’d come for them.
The officer finished with him, and Martha, still in her torn red formal, got searched next by another officer. Rueben caught her eye over the hood of the car and mouthed the words Sorry. She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for this.”
He felt the hard pinch of metal as the cuffs clicked over his wrists.
“Mr. Peet, we received a call from the farmer who owns this land. Were you aware that you were trespassing on private property?”
Rueben frowned. Rueben and his friends had commandeered a car at taser-point and stole and wrecked a Ferrari. If trespassing was all the cops had, he certainly wasn’t going to open his mouth and give them any more.
“Uh, no, Officer. I sure mean it when I say we’re all quite sorry. We’d like to get on our way if we could.”
A third officer walked over to them after examining the perfectly rectangular smoking ashes where the barn had previously stood.
“Think they did it?” a fourth policeman asked.
“Nah. The geometry’s too perfect. If anything, it was aliens.”
“Shit, man. Don’t joke about that stuff. UFOs give me the willies.”
Beside Rueben, Martha tried to explain how this was all a big misunderstanding and that she was with the NYPD.
But, having dropped her badge on the sidewalk back in NYC, the cop handcuffing her snickered. “Yeah, and I’m with the Secret Service. You’re under arrest, lady. And you’re lucky we don’t take you seriously enough to bust you for impersonating an officer.”
“But, I really am. We were trying to apprehend an attempted murder suspect.”
“Lady, get in the car.”
Martha got shoved into a waiting squad car while Buzz and Aki were searched and questioned. Aki tried the ol’ cleavage trick, but it didn’t work. The cops had confiscated all of their cell phones so they couldn’t call Martha’s precinct or the CIA for help. Too bad he and Aki didn’t carry badges outside of work.
The cops radioed back and forth, and Rueben was shocked that the news of the stolen Ferrari or the blue Nissan hadn’t reached them yet. Both vehicles were only about a mile down the road. It seemed the cops were mainly concerned about the trespassing charge.
Regardless, they were all on the hook now.
It would seem he had to die to fix this mess. That would likely mean he’d go back to the bar at 10:35 last night, and he’d have to confront Pete all over again. It had been difficult enough to get him this far.
Rueben suddenly felt very tired. They were all still alive, and Pete hadn’t kidnapped him. It was probably for the best that Rueben let things play out. They still had the weekend and part of Monday to stop Pete’s plans. It didn’t matter if Pete was Future Rueben or Rueben from another universe. They’d find a way to stop him—they had to. The thought of global nuclear war was too much to fathom.
A few minutes passed before the cops herded them into two squad cars, with Rueben sharing the back seat of a car with Aki and Buz
z and Martha occupying the other.
Aki met his eyes seriously. “That creep is still out there.”
“I know. I know.”
Aki sighed. “Remember when life used to be simple?”
“No. Not really.” If she only knew.
At least they were moving. Also, Marshall was safe and wasn’t involved in any of this. That was kind of a silver lining. Asshole that he was, Rueben felt bad enough for endangering his friends—he didn’t want to have to worry about Marshall’s safety too.
Rueben lay against the inside of the car door, his cheek smushed against the window as he watched the countryside go by.
What a night. You just couldn’t make this stuff up.
Rueben lay in a cell bunk, staring up at the ceiling. The county jail was like an army barracks, rows and rows of metal bunk beds under glaring fluorescent lights.
The officers had taken Martha and Aki to a separate section of the building. Buzz was on the next bed over from Rueben. The genius was sitting on his bed with his arms wrapped around his raised knees as though he was afraid to touch anything.
Rueben sighed. “Too bad the barn got destroyed. It could have had more answers for us. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that there are alternate universes out there with alternate Buzzes and Petes and Ruebens and—”
“Are you guys high?” a man asked from the next cot over. He wore a dirty turtleneck and his breath smelled like alcohol.
“No, Barry,” Rueben said. “For the last time, go back to sleep.”
Barry scratched his beard stubble. “How can I when you two have been babbling nonsense for what seems like hours?”
Barry was the only other person in the cell with them. He was intoxicated so Rueben hadn’t worried about him overhearing him and Buzz discussing their time warper situation.
Rueben turned to the man. “It’s not nonsense—”
“I get it. I get it.” Barry made a rolling gesture with his hand. “You two are writers, aren’t you? Writing a book on time travel and such?”
Rueben exchanged glances with Buzz. “Um—”
“It’s too complex!” Barry shouted. “You can’t just make stuff up. You got to stay grounded. Got to have some rules.”
“Rules…” Rueben glanced over at where his friend still sat on his bunk. “Buzz, you’re the genius of the group. What are the rules?”
Buzz cleared his throat and began to lecture. “Rule number one, on average, when you die you can warp roughly between ten minutes and three days. Rule number two, only you remember what happens when you warp back. Rule number three, it looks like you’re not the only warper. Rule number four, when there are two warpers, only the one who warps back first remembers. Rule number five, there appear to be multiple or parallel universes out there. Some of them may have warpers as well whose powers only affect the world they are currently on. Rule number six, there are probably going to be more rules.”
Rueben thought them over. “You know, when you lay everything out like that, it’s quite simple—”
“Exceptions to the rules,” Buzz went on. “Exception one, ordinarily, you can warp back multiple times in a row. However, Rueben, you can’t warp back farther than the Exit Bar because Pete implanted a nanobot ‘capper’ in you that interferes with your warp ability at the genetic level. Exception two, while the warper is the only one who remembers when warping backward, some individuals experience déjà vu-like sensations and can recall bits and pieces of some of the timelines that no longer exist. Over time, it can be enough to drive them mad. For example, Martha and possibly that one homeless man you keep running into.” Buzz sighed. “There. That’s all we know. I’ll write up a full report when I get back to the lab. You both happy now?”
Rueben and Barry both nodded in satisfaction. Barry said, “There. Now things make a bit more sense to the common man.”
Buzz turned to Barry, who’d been grumbling ever since they’d entered the cell and started disturbing the peace. “Good. Now, where’s my fucking prize?”
Barry grinned and stood from his bed. “Here, let me give you what you really want.”
Buzz recoiled as Barry stepped up to him and lifted his hand above Buzz’s head. Then he slowly patted Buzz on the shoulder. Buzz relaxed.
“Better?” Barry said.
“Yeah, actually.”
Barry returned to his bunk. “Good. Now, I’m going to try to get some sleep. Keep it down, please?”
Rueben had finished talking about their problems. He felt like there was still so much to learn and he was dead tired. It had to be after three in the morning, or maybe it was four. There was no way to tell since there were no windows or clocks anywhere. The concept of time in jail had a sort of creepy mystery to it.
He laid down, but there was no way he could sleep in here. If he did manage to fall asleep, he feared he’d wake up with Pete looming over him with a syringe of knockout serum.
A short while later, a police officer yelled, “Rueben Peet and Buzz Lugger.”
Rueben jumped off his bed, but Buzz had already beaten him and was standing at the bars.
The officer found them and handed them papers through the bars while he unlocked the door. “You’re being released.”
Rueben’s bleary eyes suddenly shot to life. “Huh? How?”
The officer didn’t respond, only opened the door. Then he handed Rueben and Buzz clear bags containing their phones, wallets, and other personal items, including the experimental spinning top. They accepted them and wasted no time stepping out of the temporary holding cell. Following the officer, Rueben wiped the sleep from his tired eyes. “What about Aki and Martha? Where are they? Are they free too?”
Still, the officer said nothing. About a dozen signed papers later, Rueben and Buzz walked outside as free men, stopping on the front steps of the jail.
Aki and Martha also waited on the steps, and they talked in low tones. It was still dark, and it had been a long night for all of them.
Rueben’s voice was thick with lack of sleep. “How did we manage to get sprung from the pokey? Tell me someone didn’t call Marshall.”
Aki winked at him. “No—Sven.”
Martha rubbed her arms in the cool of the dawn. “Sven?”
Aki and Rueben both sighed. Sven was their boss and the division director. He could get witnesses out of a Chinese prison and on a plane with a provisional passport within twenty-four hours. Of course, he could get a couple of field agents out of a county jail.
Rueben, however, didn’t like the implications. “How? They didn’t give us our ‘one call’ like they were supposed to.”
Aki only winked and rolled her shoulders, shifting her bosom beneath her dress.
“Right.” Rueben admired her winning smile. “What do we owe him?”
“I told him we were chasing a mark and it went bad. I tied it to another case I’m working on, and he’s fine with it. Also, the CIA is providing a security detail for all of us for the next couple of days.”
A black limousine pulled up beside them, and the driver’s window rolled down. A skinny man in dark shades sat behind the wheel. “Get in the car.”
Rueben stared at the man and didn’t move.
Aki stepped confidently toward him. “Good morning, Jack. You can drop the cover.”
Jack looked disappointed. “Really? I was just getting going.”
Aki opened the back door. “Good work, though. Feeling the vibe. But sunglasses at four a.m.?”
He took off the glasses. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to drive with these things.”
Aki turned toward the rest of the group. “You guys coming?”
Martha was the first to respond. “Uh, yeah.”
They all piled in the limo, and Rueben tried to piece it together. “Sven sent you?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Aki sighed. “Recruit.”
A collective, “Ah,” rose from the back seat.
Jack started rolling up the div
ider between them. “The less information I know, the better.”
When the divider was up, Rueben leaned back in the seat and was glad he didn’t have to talk. Buzz found the mini bottle of wine and chugged it. Aki and Martha pulled out their cell phones and started scrolling through them while Rueben sat and worried about Pete’s plans for them and how they were going to stop him.
Jack broke the silence through the intercom. “Where to?”
Aki sat up. “Should we debrief at one of our places?”
Buzz grumbled, “I’m tired, and I think I might have contracted a parasite or two in that hellhole. I can feel it burrowing into my intestines.”
Rueben rubbed his face. “Buzz, you can’t feel parasites. That’s the whole point.”
“These I can feel. I can feel these things multiplying and shutting down my organs. I think I’m losing air.” He started gagging and thrust his head between his knees.
Rueben smacked the back of his buddy’s head. “Pull yourself together, man.”
Buzz spoke from between his legs. “That’s it. I’m going to do a natural cleanse once I get home. Then I’m going to take a lingering bath and get wildly drunk and forget this all happened.”
Rueben snickered, but Martha groaned in agreement. “Every one of those things sounds good. Do those cleanses work?”
Aki sighed. “With Pete at large, we all need to be careful. Even with the security details assigned to our homes, we don’t know what he’s planning. We know he has a target on all of us. As long as we’re alert and armed, we should be fine. Anyone need guns or ammo? I have enough at my place to knock down a city block.”
Rueben knew Marshall did too, and so did Martha. Buzz had, well, more gadgets than the Department of Defense. So, he should be fine.
The scientist whined as much. “I’m more worried about being killed by a variant Ebola strain than a terrorist.”
Buzz moaned, and Rueben smirked. “Hey Buzz, it looks like there’s a little dirt in your hair.”
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. Little black speck. Let me get it for you. Oh wait, I think it moved.”
“What?”
“Oh, look, there’s more of them. They’re all moving. They’re alive!”