The Walls Of The Universe - Part 35
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Part 35

"So," John said.

"So," Grace replied. She grinned nervously but otherwise had nothing more to say. Unusual for Grace.

John slid the contract in front of Henry.

He opened the contract to the last page. "Signing it all away for fifteen percent," he said. He signed his name with a flourish.

Grace took the pen from his hand and signed her own name.

"Our new president," Henry said.

John took the contract then. He smoothed the page. It wasn't permanent. It wasn't forever. And it was only binding in this one universe anyway.

He signed his name.

"Pinball Wizards, Incorporated," he said, "is flush with cash."

CHAPTER 30

The barred door clanged shut behind him. In the two days he'd been in the Hanc.o.c.k County Jail, John Prime hadn't learned to ignore the finality of the sound. But it would be over soon. Casey had found a bail bondsman to handle the bail. It was just a matter of time and he'd be out of there.

He stood for a moment looking for Casey in the visiting booths cutting the center of the room. None of the visitors on the far side of the Plexiglas was her. When he'd heard he had a visitor, he'd a.s.sumed there was some last-minute question on the bail agreement, or some consultation with his lawyer.

"Number three," the guard said.

Prime took a step toward the third chair involuntarily.

A man sat behind the gla.s.s, a plain man wearing a wool coat, a hat, and gla.s.ses. A beard covered most of his face. Prime was sure the man was wearing a disguise. He looked too... different.

"Go on," the guard said.

Prime paused again, then took three steps, pushing himself down into the plastic chair. He studied the man, but disguise or no, Prime was sure now that he'd never met him before.

"What?"

The man grinned suddenly. He leaned forward and spoke through the perforated opening in the Plexiglas.

"Too bad you can't just leave all your worries behind," he said. "Isn't it?"

"I don't know you," Prime said. "What do you want?"

"We've spoken before."

"When?"

"Not long ago."

"Do you get your jollies off visiting prisoners in jail?" Prime said. "Because I really don't care for it."

"No, not any prisoner," the man said. "But you, yes. This seemed like a very controlled way to visit. What with your volatile temper. I'm sure jail hasn't relaxed you any."

"Who are you then?"

"We spoke two days ago." He paused, expecting Prime to guess. Two days ago he'd been arrested.

"So?"

"I called."

A light dawned on Prime.

"Ismail Corrundrum," he said.

"Yes!"

"You crank-called me. So?"

"I'm just surprised you've gotten away with this for so long."

Prime thought for a moment he meant Ted Carson's murder, then remembered what Ismail Corrundrum had said on the phone. He'd mentioned that the Cube usually came out in 1980.

"I don't follow."

"They watch for these things, you know," Corrundrum said. "Any sort of technology like that. I can't believe no one noticed. But maybe because it's a game, and maybe because you screwed it up, they didn't notice."

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Is this an exile?" Corrundrum asked. "Is that what you're doing here? Me too, in a sense."

Prime shook his head. "You've made a mistake," he said. He stood.

"Wait!" Corrundrum called. "Maybe it's not an exile. Maybe you've got a... way back."

Prime turned, staring hard at the man.

"That hardly seems possible," Corrundrum continued. "How could you have a device? Well, if you did, you don't have it now, do you?"

"I'm leaving."

"Maybe it's at home with that lovely wife of yours," Corrundrum said. "Does she have it?"

"You go near my family and I will simplify all your questions," Prime said. He turned and walked to the barred gate, waving the guard to open the door.

Prime paced the corner of the TV room, his mind racing. He knew people were exiled in universes without devices. He'd run across them before; he'd killed two, Oscar and Thomas, when they'd tried to steal his device. What if there were exiles everywhere, in every universe? Who was exiling them? And why?

He kicked the bolted chair.

"Hey!" one of the guards yelled at him from the overhang.

"Sorry," he muttered. He sat down.

Corrundrum was one of those exiles. Or he seemed to be. He seemed to know a lot. He'd indicated that Prime had made a mistake in marketing the Cube. That it would draw attention. Whose attention? Corrundrum was watching; he'd detected it. But Corrundrum had said they watched for any technology.

d.a.m.n it! He was just trying to get along! Why wouldn't everyone leave him alone?

He felt the urge to hide, to run. But he wasn't going to give it all up, not after he'd finally made it with the Cube. He and Casey had expenses now: the house, the cars, the nanny. He had a career. No way was he running out.

The fear of prosecution for Ted Carson's death had faded away. Ted Carson was alive somewhere in the multiverse; if one of him was dead, so what?

What else did Corrundrum know? Could Prime use it? What if there were observers? What if there were other devices? Could he get his hands on one?

Corrundrum had come to see him in disguise. He'd been careful, because he feared detection. Perhaps he feared Prime. He didn't know if Prime was an exile or an innocent or a traveler. Corrundrum had felt safe when Prime was in jail or when he called Prime at the office. But Corrundrum was playing it safe. What did he fear?

How would Prime lure him out? How would he get the information he needed?

If he had a device again, he wouldn't have to worry about Ted Carson.

What would Corrundrum find irresistible? A device, of course. If someone was trapped in a universe, he or she'd do whatever it took to escape. Hadn't Prime done the same?

Now how to get hold of Corrundrum?

Casey was silent on the ride back to Toledo. Prime didn't feel like talking either. He needed a shower; he needed some new clothes. In the backseat of the SUV, Abby slept.

Finally, halfway home, Casey spoke.

"You didn't tell them anything, right?" she said.

For a second, Prime thought she was talking about Corrundrum.

"How do-" Then he realized she meant the police. "No, nothing."

"They haven't figured something out, have they? They don't have some new evidence? Something we missed?"

"No," Prime said. "They expected me to admit it. They were fishing."

Casey exhaled. "They searched the house."

"I know."

"They took your... papers."

"I know."

"There wasn't anything in there. ..."

"Casey, they've got nothing. They took a gamble, that they could scare me, and when they couldn't they threw me in jail. They don't have a case."

"That's what the lawyer said," Casey said.

"Then why did you ask?"

"I needed to hear it from you." They turned off at their exit. "The office called."

"What did you tell them?"

"Family emergency," she said. "But it's been in the papers."

Prime shrugged. "It's only been two days. It'll be all right. Money makes everything all right."

"Does it?"

"Absolutely," Prime said. "It bought us this house, didn't it? And this car."

Christmas lights hung from their eaves.

"What do you think?" Casey said. "I wanted something special for when you got... home."

"It looks nice," Prime said. "You didn't..."

"Dad came over and helped."

"What did you... tell him?"

"The truth. That it's all a horrible misunderstanding. He gave us half the bail money."

"It is a horrible misunderstanding," Prime said. He pulled into the driveway, looking up and down the street. There were a couple of dark cars, but Prime couldn't tell if they were occupied. Could Corrundrum be watching? Prime caught a flash of movement in one of the cars. They pulled around the back of the house into the garage.

"Has Carson's father been around? Or... anyone else?"

Casey shrugged. "Not that I've seen. I haven't been here, really."

"Yeah."