CHAPTER 34 34.

"John, can I speak with you, please?"

John, solder gun in hand, was wiring a new flipper into a prototype game. He looked up, startled not just by the interruption but by Visgrath being at the factory on a Sunday. Visgrath and Charboric had visited once; the other board members, not at all.

"Sure, hold on," John said. He'd been spending most weekends in the lab, as they called it. It was the smaller bay behind the factory floor, where they put together the prototypes and demo units that might become new models. He'd slept in on Sat.u.r.day after his long hours on the road Friday afternoon and Sat.u.r.day morning to and from Pittsburgh. Now he was there late on Sunday finishing his work, trying to figure out what he was going to do. This surprise visit from Visgrath was unsettling. John stood, leaving the flipper hanging by its wires.

"What do you want to talk about?" John asked.

Visgrath smiled. John didn't remember ever seeing the man smile.

"So easy to pretend with an outsider, I forget how to speak frankly," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"We traced your license plate number," Visgrath said, meeting John's stare directly.

John felt perspiration break across his back. They had him.

"What do you mean?"

"Please. Give us some credit. Your trip to Pittsburgh," Visgrath said. "You know what we're doing. You know why we're interested in you."

John realized he was face-to-face with Visgrath's ma.s.s of a.s.sumptions; neither of them was what the other thought he was. And John was certain his life hung on how he answered. Denial wouldn't work.

"Beethoven's Ninth," John said with a smile. "Nice touch."

Visgrath laughed, and John was frightened again at the sight of his bleached white teeth. "Some things make easy money. Beethoven is one of them. It does require a bit of infrastructure to pull off. We need an orchestra. We need certain technologies. Pinball," he said. "We never would have done that. But it's ingenious."

John realized then that Grauptham House and EmVis were in league, if not the same company. "You, I mean Grauptham House, holds a pinball patent."

"Not really," Visgrath said.

"Oh, I see. More pressure, just like the city of Toledo thing and the Ray Paquelli suit," John said. "You use the same tactics over and over again."

Visgrath nodded. "Apparently we are a race of repet.i.tive minds," he said with a laugh. "You caught us. I will have Charboric killed if you like, for his lack of original thinking."

John shook his head. "That won't be necessary."

"Of course."

Visgrath looked at him, and John returned the stare. After a moment Visgrath spoke again. "I a.s.sume some commonalities between us, yes?"

"The exploitation of stolen technology?" John asked.

"Yes, that, of course. But hardly exploitation," Visgrath said. "It's more regarding how... we came to be here."

John nodded. "Yes, how we came to be here." John's mind churned. They were exploiting technology. They were hiding. But they were on the lookout for similarly exploited technology. They'd discovered his pinball machines. How was their situation like his own? Then he realized.

"You're stranded," John said.

Visgrath laughed. "Would we stay in this h.e.l.lhole otherwise?"

John realized his play. "You said it. We gotta make the best of what we've got."

"Exactly. You understand us then."

"How long have you been here?" John asked.

"Decades. I was stranded with an initial group of twelve. Myself, Charboric, and ten you have not met. It was rough, of course. These barbaric universes are so far behind the main line. And the philosophies here aren't like we expect. You understand, to each his own, which is why we didn't object to Grace being named president." Visgrath paused. "I'm surprised you allowed it, however."

"Why do the work when someone else can?" John said.

"True, but jump-starting in a new universe can be hazardous. You are brave to allow her to lead the endeavor. We thought she was the stranded, not you at first. It is just you, is it not?"

"They don't know anything," John said quickly. "Why would I tell them?"

"Yes, why would you?"

"So, scuba, defibrillators, music. Grauptham House is a busy little company," John said. "You all must be rolling in the dough."

"We have enough to make ourselves comfortable but not quite enough to act with impunity," Visgrath said.

"Is that your goal? To have enough to do whatever you want?"

"Our goal is to get back to our home universe," Visgrath said, "and to punish those who put us here."

"Who put you here?"

Visgrath grinned. "Bad luck, fate, enemies within and without." He waved his hand. "Does it matter?"

"No."

"Who put you here?"

"Someone I trusted," John said.

"Indeed." Visgrath nodded. "It is always the case. So then, we understand each other. We have common cause, more common than before, and more secret. You understand our secrecy."

"Of course."

"Our goal is money and comfort, while we perhaps wait to be rescued. If such happens, we would take you with us. And if those who stranded you or those who await your return were to come here for you..."

"Yes, of course. That seems fair."

"Excellent." Visgrath paused. "We have used all the ideas we could think of. We have run short on them after fifty years. Your pinball was something we knew of, but not enough to exploit. You are from another world and more current on certain things. If you have ideas that we could exploit, EmVis would be able to do so effectively, and for a more even distribution of wealth." Fifty years? John thought. How old was Visgrath? He didn't look older than thirty-five or forty.

"I wasn't prepared for being marooned," John said. "I really don't have a list of ideas." He thought for a moment of John Prime's Cube.

"Yes, of course," Visgrath said, standing. "Perhaps we can discuss it again. There may be ideas that you aren't remembering clearly."

"Perhaps."

Visgrath extended his hand. They shook. "I'm glad we have shared our positions. Charboric said we should have eliminated you, but I felt that we can gain from partnership."

"Remind me not to send Charboric a Christmas card."

Visgrath laughed. "Why would you?" he said. "I knew that you'd be more valuable to us alive. This pinball is just one example. There's probably more you don't even realize you know that can be exploited."

"I don't know about that. ..."

"It really is for the best," Visgrath said. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"Maybe we should keep this relationship more formal," John said.

Visgrath paused. "I don't want it anything but," he said. "But we are two dogs in the same kennel, and it is best if we work together. If not, you can deal with Charboric."

John felt himself recoil. "Is that a... is that a threat?"

"Of course it is, John!" Visgrath said. "It is us travelers against them, the mundanes. You are a traveler; therefore you are with us. Do you understand?"

"I do now," John said. "I do now."

"Good. I will make an appointment for you to visit the inner compound," Visgrath said. "You will be interested. Startled perhaps, even envious of what we have wrought from nothing."

"I will, I'm sure."

Visgrath left then, and John watched the door for long minutes until he heard the outer door swing shut. His heart was racing. His face felt flushed. What had he gotten himself into? He had just wanted to study physics. He had just wanted to go home! Now, Grace and Henry were caught up in this fiasco.

He wanted to drive home, grab the device, and leave. Leave this f.u.c.king universe and find a new one. d.a.m.n it! He should have been careful! He'd broken his own rule, getting involved.

He could just leave. No way could Visgrath follow him. They were trapped. They had no transfer device.

But then Grace and Henry would be at Visgrath's mercy. Even Casey and Bill and Janet were at risk if John fled. He wouldn't put it past Visgrath and Charboric to take their anger out on his closest.

"d.a.m.n it!" he cried. He picked up the phone. He put it down. He picked up again and dialed Grace.

"Grace," he said when she picked up. "I need you here right now. The factory. It's important." He hung up and called Henry.

The truth didn't faze either of them. They took the facts of John's testimony in stride. That was the best part of his admission.

"You betrayed betrayed us!" Grace cried. us!" Grace cried.

"I didn't-"

"You f.u.c.king lied to us!"

"Not on-"

"You aren't even who you say you are!"

"I'm still me-"

"Just shut up and stop defending yourself!"

"Grace!"

"What?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Of course you couldn't. You're too self-involved to see anything around you!" Grace cried.

Henry thankfully said nothing.

Grace started sobbing. "Why did you even get us into this mess?"

"I'm sorry, Grace." John held open his arms, but she glared at him and sagged instead onto Henry's shoulder. He looked uncomfortable with it.

"Grace. I need-"

"You're fired."

"You can't fire me!"

"I can; I'm the president."

"But I own fifteen percent of the company."

"That doesn't mean you get a job here!" Grace cried. "Get out!"

John stood up. "I understand if you hate me. And I understand if you want me out of here. But we have a real, serious problem."

He walked out the door of the office. Behind him, he heard Grace sobbing. He heard Henry say something, but it was too soft to hear. John walked across the silent factory floor. How had he ended up here? He'd tried to make the best decision in every case. But here he was, losing his friends, losing his company. He had already lost Casey. And even his life was in jeopardy. All because...

All because he had hidden the truth and lied to the ones he loved.

He cursed, slamming open the door. The parking lot was empty except for their three cars. He sat heavily in his front seat. What now? He'd lost the friendship of everyone who could help him. He'd placed all his friends in jeopardy.

He leaned his head against the steering wheel. His mouth was dry, his face hot.