by Aaron Frale
“One of our own is stuck in another universe!” Jon yelled.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go. You and your friends can meet me in the back behind the movie theater.”
Azerius and Alex disappeared into one of the stores. Jon turned toward where he left the group.
∆∆∆
To Jon’s surprise, Hector laughed at the terms of Alex’s help. He gave Jon a piece of Universe One tech. It was a one-inch square box with a green numerical display that Jon had never seen before. He told Jon to give it to Alex. When Jon asked what it was, Hector said, “Money.”
Later, on the way to the movie theater, Jon flipped the device over in his hand. Hailey had gone with Hector on a separate mission. He didn’t like to have Hailey where he couldn’t help her if she needed it, but there was nothing he could do. Not that she needed his help. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to be there if things went wrong. He kept his mind off of it the way he usually kept his mind off things: by starting a conversation.
“How’s this thing work anyway?” He asked.
“It allows you to transfer the amount of money out of Tuner assets and converts it to cash from the universe you’re in. Think of it like a multiverse currency exchange ATM,” Patel explained, and then she said into her TF3, “We are approaching now. You can begin the process of shutting down the barrier.”
“Shutting it down,” A deep voice said.
Jon didn’t recognize the voice. Perhaps someone had a cold. He ignored his instinct and returned to the conversation. “So it just tunes in money?”
“Sure,” she said. “Until the counter reaches zero.”
“Wait, why don’t we get one of these?” Jon asked. “Why aren’t we getting paid?”
“You are, bro,” Meathook said. “Each Tuner gets a retirement package to the universe of their choice. Same with all the techs who work at HQ, but you can only cash out when you leave. One of these is like a parting gift.”
“It is based on your years of service and performance in the organization,” Patel said.
“So what, people just walk away with a big pile of money?” Jon asked.
“In some universes, yes,” Patel said. “It others, you can use it to deposit into your bank account. Though some universes don’t have money at all.”
They made it to the movie theater. Since they didn’t see Alex anywhere, they decided to circle around the place.
“I’m surprised people don’t use it to make unlimited money,” Jon said.
“It’s connected through a bank account in HQ where the accounting team manages investments in multiple universes. You take some for this universe, and they sell from another to generate the cash.”
“Isn’t Hector screwing over our bounty hunter friend by giving this to them with HQ being taken over by—”
“You better believe it. I’m just placing a bet that Tuners' currency will be worth something,” Alex said and stepped out of the shadows of an alley way. They swiped the money cube from Jon before he had a chance to pull it away. Alex rolled the item around and around in their hand. After a moment, they added, “Well, it is legit, I can tell you that. Though if he thinks this will get me to lift a finger, he really is joking.”
Jon, who had been looking at the digits on the display the entire time, asked, “Are you kidding me? You can buy a really nice sports car for that!”
“Wait,” Alex said and pulled out a dusty, beat up TF2. It was a bigger and bulkier version of the TF3. They read something on the display. “Don’t you use a currency called yen? Isn’t this Japan?”
“Naw,” Meathook said. “It’s called the United States.”
They fidgeted with the app on the old device and said, “Oh gotcha, yeah, I see that Hector isn’t playing around. Good, follow me.”
Patel leaned over to Jon and whispered, “The green display is in the local currency, but you need the app to truly run the conversion.”
Jon shook his head and followed Alex with the other Tuners into the alley way. While they walked, Jon briefed Alex on where they were going. After a moment, the group was led to a red and white Chrysler New Yorker that looked like it had been driven off the new car lot yesterday. Alex saw a smudge on the front and pulled a cloth from their utility belt. Azerius was standing off to the side.
“Did you touch this?” Alex said.
Azerius shrugged and said, “I may have sat on the hood for a bit, but you know me. I can’t sit still, not with—”
Alex slapped Azerius several times with the cloth, “Never touch my car!”
“Ow, ow! Okay! Okay!”
Jon said, “This is Azerius, former cult member, but he is cool now.”
“You too!” Magdalena said and brushed her hair aside, revealing her scar.
“Don’t do that!” Azerius said. “You don’t know who is watching.”
Jon turned to Magdalena and said, “I think he was in it a little longer than you.”
“Alright,” Alex said. “You got my car. Everyone pile in. A few ground rules. You eat in my car, I kill you. You spill a drink in my car, I kill you. You so much as scuff the seat, I kill you. Sense a theme? Best way not to die is treat my car how I treat my car.”
The Tuners piled into the vehicle with Azerius, Jon, and Alex in the front. Patel, Meathook, and Magdalena squished in the back. Patel checked in to her TF3. “Barrier is down. We are good to go.”
Alex hit the gas, and the tires screeched. They whipped out of the movie theater parking lot and turned toward the mall. They aimed for an entrance and hit the gas. The car jumped forward with power and speed that Jon had never experienced.
“What are you doing!” Jon yelled while he fruitlessly looked for a seatbelt.
“Aiming for the tuning spot. There is one on the other side of those doors,” Alex said nonchalantly. “I need to be in proximity of one to tune.”
“We can just get out and walk!”
“Your boss is paying for this car,” Alex said. “I don’t think he’d like that very much.”
“Are you kidding me! You’re going to get us all killed.”
The speedometer was reading well over one hundred miles an hour. Alex laughed and said, “What? Hector never told you about the Universe One tech that got away? You wouldn’t believe this, but this baby has digital!”
Alex hit a button on their stereo, and a jack came out from the dashboard. They jammed their TF2 into the port and hit an app on it. They used the dial on the old-timey radio to go through the stations. Alex seemed to settle on one a second before the car was about to slam into the entrance to the mall. They pushed another button on the app. A purple field with crackling lightning surrounded the car. It was a collision course one minute and a cornfield the next. The corn stalks broke on the vehicle.
They broke free from the field to a road, and Alex jumped out of the car. They inspected the damage from the corn and started cursing. Jon climbed out and was happy to be alive. The shock had made him dizzy, and he sat down.
Patel jumped out of the car and said, “That was so cool. I heard about some prototypes from Universe One but had never experienced them myself. Hector has them locked away in a vault at HQ, but he never let us use them.”
Alex finished their cursing and said, “Hector is just pissed that I got to the sweet car before the Tuners did.”
“Where are we?” Meathook said. “Why didn’t we pulverize the inventory of a Forever 21 right now? I always thought it’d be cool to drive a car through a store.”
“Best I can tell,” Alex said, “the faster you are going through the space between worlds, the more you have a tendency to overshoot your destination. I’m guessing the city is forty or so miles from here.”
“What stops us from just running into a building when we got here?” Jon asked.
“That’s half the fun of it,” Alex said. “Though the odds are better of having a clear path landing in the country. I’ve only had to spend t
ime scouring junkyards for replacement parts a couple of times.”
“And I thought it was because you had to get to 88 miles per hour,” Jon said. He was feeling a little better now that he had time to clear his head.
“88 miles per hour—” Alex said. “Oh, that movie about that creepy guy who tried to hook up with his mom!”
“I loved that movie,” Meathook said. Jon had been introducing them to 42 culture while the Tuners were in hiding.
“Of course you do, Viking Boy,” Alex said.
“That’s cool,” Meathook said. “Maybe I’ll use that one. Come over here, or Viking Boy will smash your face in!”
“While Meathook’s quest for a cool catchphrase never ceases to amaze,” Patel said, “can we get a move on into the city? Hector wants us to start with the news channels, begin the search in a growing diameter around the—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alex said. “But first we need to find a car wash, and it has to be self-serve. I’m not trusting my baby to anyone.”
They all piled into the Chrysler and headed past a sign saying New Orleans was thirty-eight miles away. Jon was a little jealous of Alex. He had to admit a tuning device in a car was way cooler than his own TF3.
6
Hailey and Hector made their way through a mall in 112a. The storefronts were all pastel, and people dressed like they were competing in a glow stick dance competition. It was the fourth universe they had crossed since U-42. While they lucked out finding a direct route to 87c, 61g wasn’t so close, and they had several worlds to traverse before they got to their destination.
Hailey narrowed in on the signal near a maternity store that could only be described as for expectant mothers who also liked to rave. As soon as U-61g became strongest, she grabbed Hector by the shoulder and tuned. They appeared in a metal tube with large bolts holding each section in place. There was a large window in front of them, and they could see the bottom of the ocean spread out before them. A school of fish swam by the window, and a whale could be seen in the distance.
Hector knelt down and dug through his invisibility backpack while Hailey kept watch for anyone who might wander by. He pushed his mace aside and pulled out two bulky brown jumpsuits and handed them to Hailey. They both quickly put the suits on over their clothes and continued down the hallway. They wandered into a large dome with a spiral walkway that connected bubble shaped stores to the main area.
People wandered through the concourse on various errands. Some teenagers were hanging out with each other near a smoothie stand. It resembled a typical day at the mall except that people were wearing jumpsuits that seemed to be connected with their status in life. The teenagers all had magenta. A few technicians in the same brown as Hailey and Hector were working on an electrical box.
The pair wove their way through the people into the rest of the underwater city. Eventually, they made it all the way to the hospital bubbles. They found their way down into one of the lowest units near the bottom of the ocean. It was labeled ‘morgue.’ As soon as they opened the hatch, a man in a white jumpsuit turned away from a dead body he was examining and said, “You can’t be in here.”
Hector responded, “We got a work order about a faulty refrigeration unit.”
“All the units are working fine, thank you.” The man waved them away.
Hector was unfazed. “The order came in last night. You sure the night crew didn’t notice something and inform facilities?”
“I wasn’t notified,” the man said. “Can I see that work order?”
“My partner should have it.”
Hailey made a show of looking for it and said, “Um—I seem to have forgotten it.”
“You left it at the office?” Hector asked, exasperated.
“I’m sorry,” Hailey said. “I’ll go back and get it right away.”
“No, no,” Hector said and turned to the Autopsy Technician. “Can we just come look at the unit real quick? Maybe it’s nothing or a mix-up but rather than go all the way back to facilities then all the way back here, we can just go back and say everything is good to go. Won’t take more than a few minutes.”
“Well, I suppose,” the Autopsy Technician said.
Hector and the man walked back towards the refrigerators while Hailey ducked towards an equipment locker. While Hector made a big show of checking out the unit, Hailey carefully opened the storage. She rifled through the cabinet until she found two canisters. The Autopsy Technician almost turned back towards Hailey, and Hector distracted the guy with a question. She shoved the cartridges into her invisible backpack, and the others turned around just as she shut the locker.
The Autopsy Technician ushered them out and made some snide remarks about their department. Hailey nodded to Hector, and they made their way through the city back towards the mall. They were just about to make it out when an alarm sounded throughout the city. Large hatches that closed off each section began to shut.
Hector and Hailey ran towards the entrance to the mall. Hailey dove through the hatch just as it shut behind her. She turned around and saw Hector on the other side. He mouthed the words, “Go!”
She turned to the crowds of confused people, and they were whispering to each other about a hull breach. She put on her headphones and scanned through the nearby tuning points. She was in luck. There was a direct path to Universe U-87c. She followed the signal into a store geared toward teens. Even though most of the clothes were all magenta, people still found ways to accessorize. There were gloves, socks, sleepwear, athletic wear, belts, and just about any way a person could stand out within the tight restrictions society had for them. Even with a universe where the oceans rose and forced humans to live in aquatic cities, people needed to find a way to express themselves. She used to laugh at science fiction, where people wore the equivalent of drapery fabric. If there was one thing constant across universes, it was that people were vain and wanted their clothes to support their vanity.
The sound led her to a rack of sports bras. She made a show of looking through the display, and when she was sure no one was looking, she hit the tune button.
Hailey blinked out of existence and appeared in U-87c next to a confused clerk showing a gentleman a rack of ties. Even though both of them saw her materialize, they were quick to make up an excuse of why what they just saw was perfectly normal.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the clerk said. “I didn’t see you there.”
The man buying ties said, “It’s okay. You can help her. I am fine here.”
The guy went back to shopping, and the clerk said. “Can I help you find anything today?”
Hailey found it was better to play along. She was just another customer. “Yeah, my boyfriend wanted me to pick him up another white collared shirt. He stained his,” she said.
“Oh, dear,” the clerk said. “It happens all the time. Do you know his size?”
“Yeah, if you can just point me to them,” Hailey said. “He has a meeting coming up.”
“Right,” the clerk said. “Follow me.”
She walked with him through the store until they got to some cubbies filled with collared shirts. She had intended to dismiss the person helping her and make a show of looking for a bit before walking out when she saw something that piqued her interest. There was a black and white television in the sports section showing a game not dissimilar to baseball. The broadcast was interrupted, and an announcer in a suit came on and said, “A dangerous slave escaped a routine execution today. He was scheduled for death under the property abandonment laws after he was dropped off at Human Services by an anonymous Good Samaritan, and his owner failed to claim him.”
The announcer pulled out a picture of DeAndre and said, “If you see this man, do not hesitate to contact the authorities. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous.”
The clerk huffed and said, “How do they expect us to tell the difference? They all look the same.”
Hailey almost pulled her dagger on the guy but elected for a stern “Shut up�
� instead.
The clerk slunk away, and she watched the rest of the newscast.
The announcer put down the photo and said, “To talk about this incident, we have two experts. Henry Jacobs of the Civil Justice League and Scott Williams, a former chief of the Business Protection Bureau. Mr. Williams, what do you have to say about this incident?”
Mr. Williams was an older man with a long beard, thick hair, and wire-rimmed glasses. “It’s pretty cut and dry, really,” Mr. Williams said. “Human Services makes an announcement of abandoned property, and owners have one business day to claim their lost property or it’s considered abandoned. In this case, the property was brought in this morning before they were even opened and no one came forward by the end of the day. One business day equals abandoned property.”
Henry jumped into the conversation. “Ignoring the fact that these are human beings we are talking about, wouldn’t it be more efficient to put abandoned property to work for the city? Or daresay maybe let him work for a day’s wage?”
If red could show through a black and white TV, Mr. Williams would have been fuming, “There is no evidence to support their humanity. Are you really suggesting we let them take the jobs of honest white folk? Also, who will feed and clothe them? The taxpayers? You, Mr. Jacobs? Do you have servants or are you running a shelter? Or is it a brothel?”
“Those are unsubstantiated rumors, and you know it. My books are a matter of public record. I have exactly the help I need to run my ancestral home.”
“One to dust the fireplace, another to polish it, one to carry the wood, another to light the fire, and finally one to stoke it? Is that what you call running a household?”
“Gentleman, gentleman,” the announcer inserted himself into the conversation. “Let’s remain focused on the topic at hand.”
“Yes, let’s,” Henry said. “We all know that there are jobs out there that people won’t do. And when people get jobs, they spend money and create more jobs—”
Hailey ignored the rest of the newscast and wandered to the front of the store. She needed to find DeAndre before anyone else did. She couldn’t wait to rendezvous with the others. Hailey left the Men’s Warehouse and went through the mall at a brisk pace. There was no reason for her to run and arouse suspicion. She climbed up three floors until she found the Forever 21 where they had tuned back to U-42.