"Wait," Prime said. He turned to Corrundrum. "We can get you home, if you help us. That is what you want, isn't it?"

Corrundrum's forehead broke with sweat. He stared at Prime. Finally he said, "I hate this f.u.c.king universe! The food is c.r.a.p! The entertainment is only TV! They have diseases! It's-"

"So you'll help us?"

"What do you want?"

"Just information."

Corrundrum chuckled. "There are rules, you know."

"You talked enough before."

"I didn't know you were a f.u.c.king native!"

"So?"

"The vig kill people who talk."

"Why?"

Corrundrum looked at him with wild eyes. "You won't get it. You won't ever get it. You're just a fixture." He waved his hand. "You're a set piece. A G.o.dd.a.m.n coffee table."

"You're talking like this is entertainment," John said.

Corrundrum laughed. "It's worse than that, for those of us who know."

"Visgrath? Charboric?" John said. "Ever hear of them?"

"Sound like Vandals."

"Spray paint?" John asked, confused.

"Capital V. V."

"Huh?"

"Goths. In the Yankee Doodle universes, the Goths sacked Rome and then a few years later Clovis sacked the Goths. Yay, Europe. Yay, America. You think it's great, but only because it's all you know. When the Goths win, even less great. Goth universes are some totalitarian places. In 2119, they got hold of some transfer technology. Tried to spread their way of life across a couple dozen universes. They were crushed. Some got away. This was a few decades ago. Sounds like you ran into some of the meaner ones."

"Visigoths," John said, shaking his head. "They're Visigoths."

"The descendents of Germanic tribes that defeated Rome," Corrundrum said. "But if anyone asks, I didn't tell you that. Oh, screw it. Did you run up against some Goths?"

"I guess so."

"Do they know you have a transfer device?"

"Yes."

"Well, how'd they let you get away?"

"I ran."

"To him for help?" Corrundrum nodded at Prime.

"Who can you trust, if not yourself?"

Corrundrum snorted.

"What do they want?" John asked. "What can I give them if I negotiate?"

"Restore the Alarian Empire. Do you have twelve universes to spare?"

"We have the device, don't we?"

"That's what you think."

"What can I do?"

"Run away. Leave them alone. You have a device. Go somewhere else they aren't. Far away. Take me with you."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"They have my friends."

Corrundrum looked at John solemnly. "Hopefully they weren't singletons."

"You're an a.s.s," John said. "Let's go." He stood.

Corrundrum stood up too. "Hold on; hold on. We can reach an arrangement where I get out of here, right?"

"How can you help us?" Prime asked.

"I'm no fighter," Corrundrum said. "But I know more of what you're fighting against than anyone. I'm a strategic a.s.set. You've gotta take me with you."

"I don't think the device can take that many."

"Of course it can. It's a Mark Three? A Four?"

"How would I know?"

"Show him," Prime said.

John wasn't sure if they should.

"Go ahead. What do secrets matter now?" Prime added.

"I had the same thought recently," John said. He lifted up his shirt, showing Corrundrum the device strapped to his chest.

Corrundrum stared at it. "What the h.e.l.l? That's not a-" He cast a hard glare at Prime. "Are you guys s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me? That's not a transfer device."

"What do you think a transfer device is?" John asked suddenly.

"It's a machine to move material and people between universes, what else?"

"That's what this does."

"It's not like any transfer device I've ever seen," Corrundrum said. "Where'd you get it?"

John shrugged toward Prime.

"Where'd you you get it?" get it?"

"Another John Rayburn gave it to me," Prime said.

"Gave it or tricked you into using it?" John said.

"Does it matter?" Prime said.

"Yes, it does."

"Just like you," Prime said.

John sympathized with Prime. He couldn't deny that he might have acted in the same way Prime had if he'd been in the same situation. In fact, he almost had. If the one-armed John hadn't been there...

Corrundrum rubbed his head. "You know, there are universes that are off-limits to us."

"Who's 'us'?" John asked.

"None of your business."

"You want help or not?" Prime said.

"It doesn't matter!" Corrundrum said. "Your Goths are going to kill you. Take me back to my universe first, and then I'll help you."

"No way!"

Corrundrum shook his head. "You don't get it. Alarians have one hobby: killing non-Alarians. They get together and ask each other who they killed recently. How bad do you think your Goths are to get exiled by other Alarians?"

"We don't know they were exiled by their own kind."

"All the Alarians were wiped out when they were defeated. If there's any around still, it's because they were lost before the final battle. They don't negotiate. They don't deal. They take what they want and destroy what they don't need. You two against a stronghold of Alarians who've had five decades to entrench? You two are walking dead men."

"So you're not going to help us?"

"I just did! Walk away!"

"We can't," John said.

"Then if you come back, remember me," Corrundrum said. "I don't belong here."

"Come with us and make sure we succeed," Prime said.

"Didn't you hear me? You're gonna die there."

"Better to try and die than live in vain," Prime said.

"You natives! You think life is to be sacrificed," Corrundrum said. "Sacrifice is for Christers. Life is to be cherished and not wasted."

"Isn't your life wasted here? How long before you die, alone, in an alien universe?"

"I have years ahead of me, more than your science can provide."

"What about Kryerol? He risked his life for you, and died!"

"Don't bring him up! He knew what he was doing. And he shouldn't have brought us there for some Prime treasure hunt. He deserved to die!"

"He saved you, didn't he? Sacrifice is what he did, for you and the rest of your team."

"Lotta good it did them," Corrundrum said.

Prime exhaled heavily. "Fine. I thought we could help you, and I thought you could help us. I guess not." To John, he said, "Let's go before it gets dark."

They were halfway to the front door when Corrundrum cried out, "All right! All right. I'll come with you. It's nuts, but what the heck. It's not like there's a rescue party coming from home universe." He hauled himself up from the couch. "Let me get some stuff first."

Corrundrum disappeared into a back room. John felt Prime tense up. His hand was in his pocket where he had put the pistol.

"Don't you trust him?" John whispered.

"He's not like us," Prime said. "He may be half-mad from exile here."

"I believe it."

Corrundrum came out with a black duffel bag. He tossed it on the coffee table and rooted through it, pulling out a black handgun and a box of bullets. He loaded the gun and put it back into the bag.

"More guns," John said.

"They'll kill us if they can," Corrundrum said. "Most people in this multiverse will for what you have on your chest. These people more than most."

"We should go," John said. It was already three thirty. If they didn't get to the site soon, there'd be no light to search by.

"George Washington? Executed as a traitor usually," Corrundrum said. "Napoleon? Unified Europe five times out of twelve. Christ, a minor prophet for Mithras one in twenty times." He had been reciting useless universe facts for ten minutes.