Our-World
Borderline Bar and Grill
Two days passed before I saw Piper again. My stunt in the lab had the unintended consequence of prompting Doctor Fulbright to instill the fear of God in building maintenance, the University administration, and anyone willing to listen. He seemed not to appreciate being assigned a laboratory that was, as he described it, a deathtrap just waiting to claim its first victims. He insisted that all building systems and infrastructure be inspected before his project team began working in earnest.
That was fine with me. Delaying, or even better, derailing the project was my ultimate goal. But the outcome was amusing because it was unexpected. I had partially achieved one of my objectives without even trying. It gave me a day to set up a base of operations in the corner of a warehouse I had just rented on the outskirts of the town’s business district, plus a fallback safe house in the sticks outside of town. It was a lot to accomplish in twenty-four hours, but it kept me busy and distracted from obsessing over Piper, who had been on my mind since seeing that news clip just a week earlier.
I maintain that obsession is too strong a term, and I’ll admit to being distracted since she entered my life, but Esker disagreed. He went on to define obsession as, and I quote, an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on one’s mind. However, since arguing with artificial intelligence is like ice skating uphill, you can bet I didn’t make any progress in changing his mind.
And considering I was sitting at what was quickly becoming my table at the Borderline, watching Piper pour drinks behind the bar at the first opportunity I had, maybe he wasn’t too far from the mark. I’d been there for twenty minutes, and Piper had yet to make eye contact, though I was certain she’d been checking me out from the corner of her eye at regular, if not constant, intervals.
Music played from the jukebox next to a small stage set up at the end of the room. Patrons could select songs using a phone app. All three selections I had entered played immediately. Either no one in the semi-crowded joint was vying for playtime, or someone was prioritizing my picks. Since my songs were favorites from the playlist curated by Piper Hudson and me, I suspected the fix was in.
I had never actually ordered a drink, yet they arrived at my table with only a coy smile and a wink from the waitress. She knew something I didn’t, and she seemed to be enjoying it. I tried to ask about the secret, but she silently shook her head and left without a word. The first round was a double shot of tequila served in a rocks glass. The second round was the same, and by the time I finished it, I was buzzed and feeling no pain.
The rocks glass was the key. This was what I drank on the boat when Piper and I first met. And the rocks glass was the best part. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the glass was almost exactly the same style. The memory made me smile. I think I was still grinning when I looked up to see Piper standing at the end of my booth. Her work attire had been replaced with a pale yellow sundress that had thin spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. She was holding a tray with two more rocks glasses. She set the glasses on the table, placed the tray on the seat opposite me, and then slipped into the seat at my side.
I began to speak, but she interrupted me. With a shake of her head, she gently placed a finger against my lips. The look dancing in her iridescent blue eyes was mesmerizing, one I had seen before and had longed to see again. A warmth spread through my body that had nothing to do with the liquor I had been drinking.
Piper slid closer to me, our shoulders touching. Throughout, her eyes remained fixed on mine. Her left hand pushed one of the rocks glasses toward me and placed the other in front of herself. I felt her right hand settle gently on my leg, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.
We raised our glasses together and slowly tipped them back. I’m pretty sure we managed to keep our eyes locked the entire time. I don’t remember tasting the drink or feeling the burn of the alcohol. All I recall are those eyes. Not a word was spoken, yet she was saying so much.
We sat there for a while—I have no idea how long. It could have been a few seconds or even a few minutes. It felt like time stood still. I truly wished it could. In that moment, it felt like we’d regained what we once had. It felt as if everything that had happened in the months since had been erased. Those horrible experiences I thought would be unforgettable were, if only for a few minutes, removed from my mind. That was her gift to me, I realized amidst the blur of the present and times past. She made everything I was going through worthwhile.
Her hand slipped into mine, and we eased from the booth as one. We were out the door before I knew it and on the street. I wasn’t entirely without my faculties because I had the wherewithal to scan the street and the parking lot beyond for dangers, but there were none. Eight or nine people had stepped out of the bar to smoke, a couple who had stopped in the shadows to play grab-ass, a pickup truck arriving, and two cars leaving. All of this would have been monitored by Esker anyway, who would have alerted me to anything significant.
Piper guided me to the right. We walked up the dimly lit street for two and a half blocks to a three-story brick building that appeared to be a World War II-era manufacturing facility retrofitted into apartments. We crossed the lobby, passed the pair of elevators, and entered the stairwell. With my hand still in hers, we walked wordlessly side by side up to the third floor.
A couple of things to mention here that might pull you out of the moment. The fact that Piper passed by the elevator didn’t escape my notice. I avoid elevators whenever possible, and she knows it. When you know there are people hunting you, the last thing you want to do is put yourself in a steel cage.
Paranoia, you say? Bite me. It’s not paranoia when people are truly after you.
Anyway, I dabbed a camera gel on the corner of the wall leading to the stairwell. It had fisheye-like optics, so it would pick up anyone entering the stairs, anyone approaching the elevators, and would provide an unobstructed view of nearly the entire lobby. I also attached one to the door frame outside Piper’s apartment. The gels were almost entirely transparent, the diameter of a pencil, and half the thickness of a sheet of paper. Unless someone looked directly at one, they were as close to invisible as something could be. They transmitted 4K video in a 24/7 feed that Esker would monitor.
I stepped into Piper’s apartment and felt my jaw drop. It wasn’t large, but it was modern, immaculate, and impressive. It was probably what is referred to as a studio, since the entire place was one big room. The living room occupied the entire left wall while the kitchen filled the whole right side. A small loft area overhung the kitchen. Something resembling a mix between a ladder and a staircase led to the loft, which contained a large bed and a dresser.
The furniture in the living room and the appliances in the kitchen were sleek and modern. Although the tables appeared blocky and primitive, they were crafted from materials that seemed cutting-edge and chic.
In the back of my mind I’d heard the door close and latch, even noting the sound of the locking bolt being thrown. I suppose I was distracted by the design of the space because it wasn’t what I expected from Piper, which made me realize that, when it came to this sort of thing, I had no idea what to expect from her. I turned just in time to see her slip the second of the two delicate straps from her shoulder and could only blink as the yellow dress fell effortlessly to the floor, puddling at her feet.
Piper didn’t move. She licked her lips and seemed to wait for me to make the next move. She was standing completely naked in the short open space between the living room and the kitchen. It seemed to be a metaphor representing everything about our reunion. But metaphors take a back seat when the love of your life is standing naked in front of you. The blood flow had been instantly diverted from my brain. The next thing I knew, I had my arms around her, and my mouth had found hers. She began pulling at my belt as I did the same with my shirt.
Admittedly, I might have been stretching that metaphor a bit just now. However, it was in service of sparing you the graphic, carnal, and long-overdue description of everything that came next. Needless to say, no efforts were spared in rekindling our relations.
None.
Our-World
Seattle, Washington
Kilmer Breslin considered the sheeting rain turning the distant city lights into milky blurs that pulsed and slowly undulated in time with the gusting wind buffing the outside of the floor-to-ceiling penthouse windows. The expansive, panoramic Seattle skyline was said to be a selling point for the opulent location. Breslin liked it only because it satisfied his primal instinct for situational awareness. Not that there were many dangers to him in this place. Here, as everywhere, he was the predator.
Grinding his teeth and turning away from the windows, he strode slowly across the vast expanse of white marble floor. Despite being the apex predator, he wasn’t himself. On this Brane, he couldn’t assume his natural form. Stuck in human shape, he felt like a shell of his former self, as frail as any man. His nature offered little protection until he could assume his natural appearance. He needed to control when and where he used his ability to Cross. He needed to bring his people directly to this Brane. Wild-Side was limited in host resources. The number of Elend he could bring from his world to Wild-Side was restricted by the number of Seeley available as hosts.
Breslin smiled as he glanced once more at the windows and the city beyond. This was a rare moment for him. The place offered abundant resources. He could bring all of the Elend to this world. The population of this Brane could support his people and allow them to thrive. For the first time in a dozen generations, the Elend population would have the opportunity to expand. It could even multiply.
Dropping into the worn brown leather club chair positioned at the center of the empty expanse of marble, Breslin leaned back and contemplated the windows and the distant city lights once more. His time here hadn’t been without challenges. He needed to adapt. To bring his people to this Brane, he had to understand and control the ability to move between Branes. Only one person was known to possess that ability. Grady Ledger was the key, but the boy was a challenging adversary. Since that had proven frustratingly difficult, Breslin knew he needed contingency plans.
The strategy required resources that were not available when he first arrived in the New-World. Given his human frailty, he needed to find another way to enlist support. Frustratingly, he was popping back and forth between the Wild-Side—the odd name given to the Brane by the Seeley, though he believed the simplicity and lack of creativity suggested that the name actually came from Grady Ledger. This turned out to be an advantage. Many of the Seeley abducted by the Elend proved to be useful when interrogated before being used as hosts. Interrogation was an art Breslin learned early during his time in the New-World, and it paid dividends.
Breslin gathered technical insights from the Seeley and used what he learned as currency in the New-World. Seeley technology was worth its weight in gold to the right people, and Breslin quickly discerned how to leverage what he learned on one Brane to develop a power base on the other.
Before long, Breslin had established a fiefdom in the New-World that granted him power and authority akin to his position in the Elend dominion. He had subordinates traveling the globe to execute his orders. To that end, he had dozens of acolytes hunting Grady Ledger worldwide. Equally important, he had funded just as many research projects focused on Brane Theory. Almost all of them were solely dedicated to finding a way to cross the barrier between dimensions.
Only five of Breslin’s four closest advisors were aware of his true motivations. There had been five in total. One of his key lieutenants had proven unreliable. Evidence indicated that Edward Stapelton had collected information on Breslin and ATG, the company Breslin ultimately established. He intended to pass that information to authorities or directly to Grady Ledger. Breslin had contacts in the FBI, CIA, and NSA and connections with several key international law enforcement organizations, which made him reasonably insulated from legal consequences. Moreover, ATG—Arlington Technologies Global—provided services to numerous murky organizations linked to the upper echelons of power.
The greatest risk was Stapelton going to Ledger. Ledger was a persistent, never-ending thorn in Breslin’s side both here and on Wild-Side. A handful of ATG’s most promising projects had been sabotaged or even outright attacked by Grady Ledger. Some had been entirely off-book, black projects that had never been documented anywhere in ATG’s mainframe. Breslin didn’t know how Ledger was gathering information about ATG or Breslin himself, but he was resourceful and efficient.
Breslin didn’t know if he would have found the key to travel between Branes by now if not for Ledger, but he knew his people would be closer to a solution. He also knew one more thing with absolute certainty. It would be the key to solving the mystery if he could capture Ledger. The kid could move between Branes at will. He always had.
Grady Ledger was the key to conquering Wild-Side and the Elend finding a new home in the New-World. Capturing him was the first step in controlling the bridge between the two worlds. While he had frustratingly limited control over the bridge between his world and Wild-Side, it was better than the humiliation he had suffered for more than a year, bouncing back and forth between Wild-Side and the New-World with absolutely no control. Being powerless to bring the Elend to this world was exasperating. Lacking control over his own geography was intolerable, and Breslin struggled to maintain a façade of calm while dealing with the sycophants surrounding him in his corporate environment. He had learned early on that they responded better to gentler motivations than the Elend of his world. After killing a handful of his subordinates and navigating the complexities of the legal system, it quickly became clear that only his inner circle could be trusted with the driving goals he had established for ATG.
Jeff Dreyling burst through the double doors at the back of the room, creating a flurry of activity. As was often the case, Dustin Sexton followed swiftly in his wake. “I have the update from Kansas, boss,” Dreyling said, making his usual halfhearted effort to meet Breslin’s gaze. Instead of approaching Breslin directly, he veered off to the west wall, where an array of free-standing whiteboards, cork boards, and cart-mounted sixty-inch flat-panel displays stood.
“The underground silo,” Breslin grumbled, already having a clear idea of where this was going. “Was the device located?”
Sexton pinned a poster-sized photo to one of the cork boards. It was taken either from a low-Earth-orbiting satellite or a high-flying aircraft. The image displayed an expanse of flat, hard-packed earth in a square shape, depicting the small station that housed the top of the elevator shaft leading to the underground facility. Several smaller rooflines were shown, representing what everyone in the room understood as perimeter guard towers. The multiple concentric fence lines of the security boundary were not visible from this top-down view.
Tapping the photo, Sexton highlighted the indistinct figures scattered throughout the image. “These are federal agents,” he said.
Breslin ambled forward and leaned closer to the photo. “Who notified the authorities?” He growled. Orders had been explicit. Aside from the FBI on payroll, no outside law enforcement was to be contacted.”
Sexton glanced at his partner. Dreyling was tapping on a touchscreen tablet, trying to transfer content to one of the large flat-panel displays. When asked the question, he paused and looked at Sexton before they both turned back to Breslin without reply.
“We think Ledger alerted law enforcement himself,” Sexton said. “It puts federal attention on ATG. That hinders us far more than it does him. As always, his attack resulted in no fatalities.” If Ledger killed a member of the security teams protecting an ATG facility, the effort law enforcement put into pursuing him would escalate significantly. As it stood, ATG’s resources were involved in the hunt alongside any corrupt state and federal agents Breslin could engage. Ledger was too intelligent to heighten tensions. Additional scrutiny for ATG could only benefit Ledger.
Breslin had once contemplated killing some of his own people and pinning it on Grady Ledger. A frame job, Sexton had termed it, though Breslin never grasped the euphemism. However, the additional resources pursuing Ledger would also focus more scrutiny on ATG and Breslin himself. It was a trade, to date, that Breslin had not been willing to make.
Poking the photo, Breslin said, “At least tell me these are our agents working the scene.”
Dreyling tapped the screen of his tablet with a mutter of triumph and turned the wheeled flat panel to better face Breslin and Sexton. “Our people are part of the investigation,” he confirmed. “Unfortunately, we have little control over the narrative. Someone connected this attack with other unreported ATG-focused attacks.” A real-time view almost identical to the photograph filled the screen of the flat panel. The investigators were gone, and it was obvious that all the evidence markers visible in the photo were missing as well. A pair of large, blocky SUVs were positioned in a wedge formation on the dirt road outside the gate, preventing even forced access. Nearby, two blob-like shapes moved, indicating that at least three men were manning the roadblock and the entrance.
With a tap on the screen, Dreyling adjusted the filter and activated a thermal version of the video feed. The blobs representing the men at the gate transformed into amorphous slugs of orange and red. It also became clear that a fourth man was inside the gatehouse, visible only through the roof via thermal imaging. Dreyling zoomed out on the image, and they watched as more figures came into view. Two figures manned each of the guard towers. A lone figure moved slowly along the innermost of the concentric fence lines, one positioned at each cardinal point on the perimeter.
“The results of the increased scrutiny?” Breslin demanded, his tone flat. He already knew the answer would likely not be positive.
Dreyling and Sexton glanced at each other, but neither was quick to reply.
Sexton swallowed hard. “Homeland Security is demanding to interview you.”
Breslin took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed to behave differently in the New-World. While his instinct was to tear the throat from one of these men as a motivation for the other, painful experience had proven that didn’t motivate these people the way it did the Elend. Instead, Breslin poked the glass of the screen and glared at both men. “Explain,” he demanded.
“Homeland knows technology was taken and that at least one research team member is missing,” Dreyling said quickly. “We have confirmed there is no internal information leak. Ledger is attempting to weaponize law enforcement against us.”
Breslin rubbed at the corners of his eyes and fought his instincts. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. It was as if his very nature demanded him to lash out—savaging one of these men as recompense for yet another setback to his ultimate objective.
“You have studied this attack for more than a week. What will any of this help,” he said instead. “What good with understanding Ledger’s attack strategy do?”
No one spoke for several long seconds. Finally, Dreyling met Breslin’s gaze with a timid, fearful expression. “If we can understand how he thinks and plans, we can better anticipate his next moves.”
Fighting the desire to batter both men, Breslin failed to contain the snarl that formed deep in his chest. “This is a useless waste of time. Find Miranda Norton and the missing components. Ledger wouldn’t have taken both unless the experiment held potential.” He glared at Sexton. “Contact the congressman. It’s finally time for him to pull his weight. I want the Homeland investigation shut down immediately.”
