coordinates if something in or out of said dimension needs access. Without the Pyratope, the dimension it created is still there. All you’ve done in destroying it is severing that dimension’s ties with ours; locked yourself out of your own house, sort of speak…”
Duke nodded as he looked at Abram, giving him a sly smirk. “…Unless you have a spare Skeleton Key to unlock the door…”
Abram gave an awkward grin ranging from ear to ear, exposing all of his teeth in the process.
“And guess who has the only copy?” he said before pointing to himself while slowly pantomiming the word “me.”
Duke gave off a small chuckle, which Abram appreciated greatly. Removing his arms from their folded position and returning to his sides, Duke gave a congratulatory nod.
“I gotta hand it to you, Abbot,” he said. “This is impressive. You made this over the course of like, what…four days, along with developing technology that mankind probably won’t see in another five generations; four if we’re lucky. Not everyone can say they spent a few business days and a weekend making a machine that can generate different worlds…”
“…Duke, what’s wrong?”
The assistant turned his head to Abram, who had a serious look about his face. At first he was a bit puzzled as to what the billionaire meant, but that was before Abram began to explain himself.
“You’re putting a lot of emphasis on how I’ve been spending my time these past few days,” Abram informed. “You remind me that I’ve blown off dates with my soon-to-be-girlfriend. You constantly repeat how long I’ve been down here working on the Pyratope. You come down here personally to see what I was up to. This leads me to believe that something’s happened that requires my attention and me isolating myself working on this machine has kept me out of the loop, so you know I have to ask this question. What in the world is so important that you had to come down here and turn off my Van Halen?!”
Abram and Duke exchanged glances for a while before the assistant found himself once again sighing and rolling his eyes. He calmly walked away from Abram, heading toward the high definition television on the wall near the Pyratope prototype. He turned it on physically, and a news report appeared on the screen. Jennifer Dell was on the screen, standing in front of a rather tall building within the financial district of New York City.
“Grant, I’m standing outside what used to be the location of Palpable Solutions; the engineering company that is now known as the very first subsidiary gained by Skylight Industries before becoming the multinational conglomerate it is today. It is also where just last night, disaster stuck; seemingly more than once.”
The screen immediately transitioned to the picture of a rather brawn and muscular Caucasian man dressed in a security guard's uniform. His hair was blond, cut short in a buzz cut. He smiled for the camera while holding on to his security guard jacket with both hands, squinting his eyes in the process.
“Twenty-nine year old Markus Hood worked the night shift for a security company commissioned to watch over the abandoned office building last night,” the voice of the reporter mentioned through the television screen. “The security officer left for work at eight thirty at night and clocked in at nine, just as he always had. What he didn’t expect was to be found by the morning shift security guard dead inside the building the morning after, beaten to a pulp.”
Abram watched closely as the picture of the guard alive faded to a picture of the guard after his discovery during the reporter’s monologue. The transition was slow, more than likely to keep watchers from suddenly flinching from the shock. From what the billionaire could see, there was a significant amount of swelling and distortion on both sides of his face. His cheeks were twice as wide as they normally were. Bruises of different shades of purple, blue and black were spread across his face. It was as if five or six individuals took turns just to make the man as unrecognizable as possible.
Abram scrunched his face.
“H-He was beat up bad, man,” a rather elderly morning guard informed during his interview. “I couldn’t even recognize his face. Both his eyes were black and blue; swollen shut almost. And his cheeks… I-I haven’t seen anything so despicable done to another human being since Emmet Till…”
“NYPD are taking every precaution to find the people who murdered Markus Hood,” Jennifer informed once the camera was once again focused on her. “So far, all we know is that the murder took place on the ground floor of the building, more than likely in the western wing. Police have contacted Roscoe Wellford – current CEO of Palpable Solutions and son of the company’s original founder Timothy Wellford – who said that both Palpable and its parent company Skylight Industries will do whatever they can to make sure the Hood family seeks justice. Markus Hood is survived by his wife, twenty-seven year old Cynthia Hood. Back to you, Grant.”
Duke turned off the television and turned back around in order to face Abram, who had a rather curious look on his face. The assistant placed his hands in his pockets as he noticed his employer refuse to take his eyes off the now blank screen, finding himself curious as to what was currently going on in his head.
“I take it you figured something out?” Duke asked.
“Naturally,” Abram said with raised eyebrows as he proceeded to fold his arms.
Duke began walking toward the CEO dressed in a welder’s outfit with rather slow steps, keeping his hands in his dress pants pockets. “Well, are you going to share with the rest of the class?” he asked. “What did you see?”
“That it wasn’t a group of people that pounded the poor bloke’s face to kingdom come,” Abram informed, turning his head to face Duke proper when he arrived to his immediate right side. “It was one man…”
“How can you tell?” Duke asked.
Abram pointed a firm finger into his right palm as his face became more serious, showing his assistant just how much thought he put into the scenario in question.
“The pattern of the bruises on his face wasn’t random enough for someone to suggest that he got pummeled by five or six guys,” Abram informed. “If that were the case, then the swelling wouldn’t have come across so clean; so precise.” He proceeded to smile a bit, out of the instinct of solving a rather provocative mystery. “No…” he said. “…No, somebody threw a jab to the left side of his face so powerful, that it took out his eye and caused the swelling in his cheek to grow twice its size in one punch. Then he did the same with the right side; probably because the right side was jealous, so at least we know the attacker believes in equality…”
Duke rolled his eyes. “…But what about the small bruises, then?” he asked. “You don’t get multiple bruises from one punch.”
“He probably just added the small bruises afterward to make it seem like the guy was attacked by more than one person,” Abram theorized. “Y’know…purposely holding back whatever strength he didn’t know he had when he attacked different areas of his face to seem like there was more than one guy.” Abram took a breath and scrambled his already tousled hair through his gloved fingers. “But whatever the case, finding out exactly how this happened is definitely making me curious…”
“What do you think it could be then?” Duke asked. “An In-Human with enhanced strength that had a score to settle? A small-time thug that got hold of some lost tech from Skylight Industries?”
Abram slowly shook his head after listening to all of Duke’s possible theories. “I don’t know,” he answered, resting his hands behind his neck while biting his bottom lip in anxiousness soon after. “That’s the most enticing part. But in order for me to find out, someone needs to do a better job at examining that crime scene…”
Duke raised an eyebrow as his sly smirk returned to his face once again. “I take it you nominate the Innovator,” he assumed.
Abram grinned.
“How’d ya guess…?”
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