Empire State (28 page)

  "I'm a detective. I have a case to solve. If I'm a pawn on someone's chessboard, fine and dandy. Just tell me which side I'm playing for. Black or white?" He sucked in a lungful of stale, flavoured air. "What's the deal, Nimrod? What is the Empire State?"

  Nimrod stared at up at Rad leaning over him; Rad could hear Bullethead Jones peeling himself from the wall and moving around until he was directly behind him. Nimrod watched his henchman over Rad's shoulder, and shook his head. Looking back at Rad, Nimrod felt his stomach with his right hand until he located a small pocket in his tunic. He extracted a pocket watch, a gold half-hunter, and flicked his eyes towards it.

  "Very well. We can return you home via the Fissure itself. That will lessen the risk of time dilation, although may not eliminate it entirely. Besides, perhaps you might like to take a look at it for yourself? It will give us a little extra time."

  Nimrod stood and smiled coldly as he looked down at the detective bent against the desk.

  "Crossing the Fissure itself is something we try to avoid." A pause, a beat. "But you're a big strong man. You might just survive."

 
 

 

 
 

IT WAS NIGHT AGAIN, but a night unlike any that Rad could remember. Or maybe he could, locked somewhere deep in his nineteen year-old mind filled with memories that weren't his. A memory, an image, reflected through the Fissure from the Origin to the Pocket, from
his
New York equivalent. Because like Carson and Nimrod, he had a double, an original, too. Rad's heart fluttered, just a little.

  The killer.

  He had no idea how it worked, or why it worked, or why it was, but he was hoping to find that out.

  Grieves and Jones had helped Rad walk. They were still rough, still thugs, but obviously Nimrod trusted them, and they seemed pretty good at obeying his orders. They were government employees, after all, and even governments need tough guys sometimes.

  Nimrod's office was full of people, a large central open-plan area filled with desks and people typing. Around the periphery were private offices like Nimrod's. Rad noticed that the clothes people wore were a little strange. Different cuts, different styles that he didn't like. Then he remembered Nimrod's claim about how time moved differently in the two cities. If it was 1949 or 1950 here, and Nineteen at home, how did you convert? Did that make it nineteen years since the Fissure had opened? He'd been in New York for a few hours, but Nimrod was eager for him to return home. If the timelines weren't parallel, how long had he been away from the Empire State?

  Rad sat in the back of the black car as it cruised the city. Even through the mask and the tinted windows of the government limo, Rad was transfixed. The city was brighter, lighter than the Empire State. He recognised a lot of buildings, and didn't recognise a lot of others, but he was amazed at the lights. So many burning in the night, so many colours. With no fog or mist, he watched Manhattan in crystal clarity. It was alive with people and cars – although he wasn't sure what the time was, it couldn't have been that late. There were shops too, restaurants, corner stands; buildings and doorways and windows blazing with light.

  It was bright, and busy, and noisy, and it felt like home. The Empire State was cold, grey, fogbound and as quiet as a grave. Rad realised now that his city, his home, was merely a shadow of New York, a bad knock-off, a worn-out second-hand copy. Rad felt odd. His chest was tight, not just from the breathing. His mask goggles steamed more, and he recognised the feeling. Sadness. A profound, deep emotion. He hadn't felt this sad since... well, since he couldn't remember.

  And if he was a fake, an image, a reflection, a copy, a duplicate, with memories that half belonged to someone else, maybe his emotions were copies and fakes too.

  New York City made him unhappy. Rad wanted to go home. He was afraid, now, that'd he'd been away too long. Perhaps Nimrod had the same thing in mind, as he leaned forward from the back seat to tap Grieves on the shoulder and urge some speed. Grieves nodded and the car rocked on its back wheels as he increased pressure on the accelerator.

  Nimrod squeezed closer to Rad, and tapped him on the shoulder to drag his attention away from the passing view outside the window. Rad turned around awkwardly.

  "The Fissure is located in Battery Park, at the bottom of Manhattan. We own the whole area now, and access is tightly restricted."

  Rad nodded. "We have the same. It's called the Battery."

  "Really?" Nimrod smiled at the name. "That's appropriate. The Battery. The power source of the Empire State, quite literally."

  "As Carson said. He didn't seem to know much about how it worked."

  Nimrod nodded, and rolled his hands around each other then took a deep breath.

  "The Fissure is a tear in space-time." Nimrod paused and squinted at Rad. "Space-time?"

  Rad shook his head. Nimrod waved his hand.

  "Doesn't matter," he continued. "The United States of America – that's the country that New York sits in – was once protected by a, well, a freelance law enforcement agent, shall we say. You'll know the name, I think."

  "The Skyguard?"

  "Correct! But the Skyguard had an opposite. Perhaps his equal, perhaps not. He called himself the Science Pirate." Nimrod paused, waiting for a response. Rad shrugged.

  "The Skyguard has been in jail for... forever, I guess," said Rad. "Never heard of a 'Science Pirate'. Sounds kooky."

  Nimrod touched a finger to his lips. "Fascinating, quite fascinating. Some aspects reflected, some aspects translated. Some even translocated. Some absent altogether."

  "Trans-what now?" Rad asked.

  "The Fissure was opened when the Skyguard fought the Science Pirate over the construction site of the Empire State Building, back in 1930. A sort of last stand, you might say. There was an explosion. The Skyguard's body was never recovered, and the Science Pirate fled, but was not seen again.

  "There were strange events that night, according to reports both official and unofficial. At the same time as the explosion, the Statue of Liberty suffered a colossal lightning strike. The lightning was
green
, Mr Bradley, according to the newspaper report. Strange sounds were heard and lights seen all over Manhattan. Over Queens, the stars in the sky – and I quote – 'danced like fireworks on the Fourth of July'."

  Rad huffed inside his mask. "Very poetic for the
Sentinel."

  Nimrod's moustache bounced around as his mouth twisted into a frown. The old man leaned back a little, as though terribly offended by Rad's comment.

  "The
New York Times
, old chap."

  Rad blinked. "OK," he said, slowly, before changing tack. "So why were you looking for me, anyway?"

  Nimrod smiled, his attitude changing instantaneously. Rad wondered if eccentric was quite the right word for him.

  "We weren't, my dear detective. We were looking for the Science Pirate and your doppelganger, a man called Rex. A small-time gangster, ran a minor Prohibition racket in Midtown. No one of consequence, although there were numerous warrants for his arrest and he was also required as a witness in another case presided over by the New York Supreme Court."

  Nimrod stopped, the smile plastered over his features. Rad could see he was enjoying this far more than he should have been.

  "But…?" Rad prompted.

  Nimrod's eyes flashed. "But! At the same time as the Skyguard vanished and the Science Pirate fled, there was a car accident at the scene. The body of one of Rex's associates was recovered, but not Rex himself. On the night that the Skyguard and the Science Pirate vanished, so too did our fugitive, Rex."

  Rad shook his head with effort.

  "I don't get it," he wheezed.

  Nimrod leaned closer. "We can detect the trails that people leave, in this world and in the
other
." He jabbed one index finger to the left and the other to the right as Rad watched. "The Skyguard vanished from New York, but once we knew of the Pocket and how to look into it, we picked his trace up immediately. But of the Science Pirate, there was no trace, here or there. Until now. Likewise your twin, Rex."

  "How long ago was this fight?"

  "Nineteen years," said Nimrod.

  Rad sighed. "I figured. But why Rex? Why was he important?"

  Nimrod frowned and he shrugged with some difficulty in the back seat. "Maybe he isn't, but his trace was difficult to follow at the
nexus
. Tangled, distorted, but detectable. It is possible he had something to do with the Science Pirate's disappearance, or was at least tied to it. Find him and perhaps he would lead us to the Pirate's trace."

  Rad nodded. "OK." Anything Nimrod said. He looked out the window again. Lights, people,
life.
He felt his heart sink again.

  "So, what about Battery Park? How did you find the Fissure, exactly?"

  Nimrod rubbed his hands together, a clear indication yet another story was forthcoming. Rad kept his eyes on the wonderful, mysterious world outside.

  "Well, those reports of strange occurrences were not just from the night of the fight. The area of the explosion was sealed off for a time, for cleanup and investigation, and so on, but opened soon enough. Then, days later, came strange reports from downtown. Battery Park. Things appearing, disappearing. People, police. Even cars and a horse! The park was kept open, but soon people stopped going there. Stories spread that it was haunted."

  Rad laughed, then coughed at the lack of oxygen. He took a breath that was like pushing mashed potato through a sieve and turned back to Nimrod.

  "Ghosts?"

  At Rad's comment Nimrod laughed as well, the sharp sound ricocheting around the inside of the car. Even Jones's bulletshaped head seemed to shrink slightly into his shoulders like a man-sized turtle.

  "But you took it seriously?" said Rad. The laughter died and Nimrod looked sheepishly at nobody in particular.

  "Ah, well, yes."

  "So the Fissure..."

  Nimrod met Rad's eyes through the steamed goggles. "So the Fissure," he repeated, as if it were a profound statement. "Indeed. A crack that opened in the world, in the middle of the park, leading from New York to an
alter
dimension. We don't know
how
it was opened, but the whole city appears to be seated on a weakness, so to speak. The Skyguard's battle with his nemesis sent shock waves outwards like a boulder dropped in a lake. Perhaps in the park reality was at its thinnest, and tore." Nimrod shrugged. "You know the rest."

  "Believe me, I don't. Are you saying the Fissure, what, actually created the Empire State? Created me, created Carson. Created the war and the Enemy?"

  Nimrod
hrmmed
loudly and his face creased into a frown. "Not sure about the war – what do you call it? 'Wartime'? Well, there's nothing like that in the United States. As for creation... well, we don't know. I don't know. The Pocket is an accurate name. It's an extension of here, the Origin, but it's small. New York City is in America, and America is in the world, and the world goes around the sun, and the sun... well, you get the idea. The Origin is vast, unimaginably so. The Pocket is just that – a pocket. A protrusion."

  Rad snorted. "I live in a hernia. Great."

  "Ha! Oh really, Mr Bradley!" Nimrod was greatly amused for some minutes, and continued sniggering to himself as they drove at speed. Rad remained silent, concentrating on his breathing, watching the miraculous view outside. Then the lights changed, and he realised he was looking at the water. The night air was clear, invisible. And there, on the
other side.
More lights, and the outlines of buildings. Some lights were moving too. Cars. Cars and people.

  Nimrod saw Rad pressing the mask to the glass of the car's window.

  "That, my friend, is Jersey City. Smaller than New York City by quite a margin, but, aside from the separation of the Hudson River, more or less part of a single conurbation."

  Then Nimrod rested a hand on Rad's shoulder. Rad flinched, but didn't take his face from the window. "I'm sorry, my boy," whispered Nimrod. "I was forgetting."

  Rad's head shook, the loose ends of the mask straps clacking their metal-capped tips together as he did so.

  "What do you want me for?"

  Nimrod shuffled back around on the narrow bench seat so he could see out of the front windshield again. "Although we can trace people, follow and watch them, in a way, intervention is more difficult. For my agents to be in the Pocket is a great risk, one which I must limit whenever possible. Far easier would be to have someone from the Pocket act on our behalf."

  Rad swung back, the respirator knocking Nimrod's nose. The old man raised a hand to protect his face from any further contact.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Jones and Grieves have been very busy on your side of the Fissure. We have been following the Skyguard – the new Skyguard – for some time. He is going to destroy the Battery – your side of the Fissure. He must be stopped. I would presume he thinks that by destroying the Battery, it will cause the Fissure to collapse and return everyone to New York City."

  "But... the Empire State is not New York? We don't come from New York. We never did."

  "Top of the class, Mr Bradley. Destroy the Battery on your side and certainly the Pocket will collapse. It'll be the end of the Empire State, and everything and everyone in it. Skyguard included."

  "Aha."

  Nimrod ran the edge of his index finger along the underside of his moustache. "Am I right in thinking you may know the identity of the new Skyguard?"

  Rad drew a breath, making the respirator whistle.

  "You think right. You don't know? You said you were following him."