Empire State (44 page)

  The Captain smiled. The Skyguard stepped around the old man, and stood by his side. Rad took a step back, looked down, and saw the Captain holding Jones's fat-barrelled revolver. It was held low, and pointed at him.

  "Well, I'll be damned."

  "I'm sorry, detective. I'm leaving."

  Rad swore, then felt a blinding pain shoot from the base of his neck, out across his shoulders and down each arm. He yelled and fell to his knees. As he toppled over, he managed to turn. The last thing he saw, before the night sky closed in like a curtain over his vision, was his own face – Rex's face – leering over him, a wet Cheshire cat grin splitting it from ear to ear, shaking the fist that had just whacked the back of Rad's neck.

  Somewhere behind a woman was laughing. It echoed like a gunshot in a cathedral as Rad succumbed to the black.

• • • •

When Rad opened his eyes, he saw blue-tinged shapes. He blinked, a lot, each flutter of his lids changing the shapes and shadows into new forms. The eggshell barrier had been folded down and the light from the Fissure was dull and washed out, but still felt wrong, like it was part of a spectrum of colour that wasn't supposed to be seen by human eyes. The Fissure in the Origin had been powerful, awe-inspiring. In the Pocket it was weaker, angry. Yin and yang. Whatever that was. Rad thought he should know, but he didn't.

  He moved, and winced. He was lying on his back, on the concrete disc not far from the Fissure itself. His hands were tied or cuffed behind his back, and had been completely numb until he moved. Now pins and needles, combined with a scrape against the rough concrete, seared along the fatty edge of both hands. Rad focussed on the unpleasant sensation to help wake himself up.

  "Welcome back, bud."

  A new shape now. Blocking out the blue glow of the Fissure it was just a lumpy blackness, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw Rex standing over him in the cheap copy of his own suit. He stood, legs astride Rad's body, both hands clamped on the fatbarrelled revolver which was pointed at his head. His white teeth shone electric blue in the light of the Fissure.

  Someone said something Rad couldn't quite hear – and Rex looked up, his body language at first tense, then disappointed. He switched the gun to just one hand, and still aiming it at Rad's face, he swung one leg over Rad so he was just standing beside the detective rather than over him.

  Rad smiled to himself, and struggled into a sitting position. Rex was still at the bottom of the pecking order. That might be useful.

  Might be, if Carson hadn't been a traitor all along. Rad shook his head. How could he have been so stupid? Events moved from point A to point B so cleanly that they had to have been controlled by someone. Carson, at the centre of his web, was the one with the knowledge and the technical expertise to get everyone back to New York City and to close the Fissure. So, had everything he'd been told – about how the closure of the Fissure would snuff out both cities – been a lie? What about Nimrod? Perhaps he'd been in on it too, a conspiracy that crossed two dimensions.

  Rad looked around. Rex had the gun on him. Carson and the Science Pirate were hunched over stacks of equipment which, like the equipment in New York, spilled cables that snaked away in every direction around the concrete disc. The Empire State was, quite literally, plugged in.

  Something hard dug into the small of Rad's back, so he shifted, craning his head around. Kane stood above him, looking down through the Skyguard's impassive mask.

  "Give it up, Kane," said Rad, looking away. There was a
clink,
and when Kane spoke, it was with his own voice, the helmet hanging in one hand.

  "He told you, did he?"

  "Nothing I didn't already know and wouldn't have worked out anyway. It's called deduction. It's my job."

  "Oh yeah, because you're the world's greatest detective. Sorry, I forgot."

  Rad laughed. "How else would you get access to the prison and to Gardner Gray, huh? You needed someone on the inside, but not just anyone. Someone high up. Someone with the ear of the Chairman. Because the Skyguard – the
real
Skyguard – was a very special prisoner. Solitary confinement, no visitors."

  It was Kane's turn to laugh. "Was it that obvious?"

  "Not obvious, but careless," said Rad. "The suit was the clincher. Of course it would be kept somewhere in storage, but it didn't work in the Pocket, did it? Something to do with the incompatibility. But Carson could fix it, even though he'd never seen it, because Nimrod had helped make it back in the Origin. What Nimrod knows, Carson knows."

  Kane walked around Rad, who was still sitting, facing away. As Kane's boots moved into view, Rad looked up. He didn't want to give Kane the satisfaction of stubbornness. Rad could face his enemies and look them in the eye.

  "Handy, ain't he?" said Kane.

  "Carson? Sure. But he doesn't just have Nimrod's knowledge, does he? He has his
memories
. Nimrod was an explorer. Carson's house is full of Nimrod's life. I've seen New York – I've been there, and just for a few minutes, I got a glimpse of that world. It's a wonderful thing, Kane. It's hard to resist. For Carson, the temptation is too much. A whole world to explore, to see with his own eyes what he only knows from the second-hand memories of someone else."

  Kane laughed, and behind him Rad saw the Captain crawl backwards out of a tangle of cable, then stand up and brush himself down.

  "Well," said Carson, "Kane was right. You
are
a detective, Mr Bradley. Very astute conclusions, I must say."

  Rad smiled. "Oh, I don't blame you, Captain, not for a second. There's a lot to see over there, in the Origin."

  "How very magnanimous of you."

  "Thanks. But I'm a little disappointed you had to fall in with murderers to do it. These lugs might just be stooges who have only killed a few people while following their orders. But the Chairman? He's nuts. He thought the way to return home was to blow up the Empire State. Remember that?"

  Rad looked at Kane, who was standing, arms folded, next to Carson and Rex.

  Rad said, "So what happened to that plan, Kane? You seem to be missing an airship."

  Kane looked at Carson, who smiled at him with that perpetual, infuriatingly smug grin. Carson knew more than anybody about, well, everything in the Pocket, and he clearly liked to show it.

  "A minor setback," said the Captain, "but fortunately I have formulated an alternative arrangement."

  "Plan B?" Rad asked.

  Carson dropped into a crouch so he was eye level with Rad.

  "As you say, 'Plan B'. A somewhat less drastic course of action. I can get them all back, and close the Fissure. Problem solved." The Captain spread his hands.

  The corners of Rad's mouth turned down as he nodded in mock appreciation of the new plan.

  "I like it. No messy explosion. Tidy."

  The Captain barked a laugh and with some effort raised himself to his feet.

  "Oh, there will be explosions enough for you, detective."

  Kane scraped a boot on the concrete. "Energy input?"

  Carson clapped, and rubbed his hands together. "Energy input," he said, nodding.

  Rad pursed his lips. "But isn't the Empire State still going to fizz out if the Fissure is closed?"

  "Indeed, yes. But then it's not really real, is it? It isn't even supposed to exist."

  "Ah," said Rad. He smiled. "Well, don't forget to raise a glass to us once in a while, as you're cruising the world in the
Nimrod
. Oh, I mean the
Carson
. Say, won't that get confusing?"

  Carson ignored the jibe and turned away, perhaps bored by the conversation. He rejoined Lisa at the pile of equipment, and resumed his tinkering. Kane stood still, arms folded, alternating his watch between the pair at the Fissure and Rad on the ground.

  Rex bounced lightly on his feet and started to pace, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. Still the weak link in the chain, thought Rad.

  "So," said Rad. Rex stopped and jerked his head towards the detective's voice. "How many guards do you think the Skyguard had to kill to get access to the Fissure?"

  Rex frowned. "What?"

  Rad nodded into the darkness around the Fissure. Although he'd never seen the Battery, he knew it was in the heart of the military establishment down near the naval dockyards. Not surprisingly, it would have been the most highly defended piece of land on the whole island. The city, quite literally, depended on the Battery and the Fissure within it. Rad didn't know anything about how the navy ran the joint, but the absence of guards surely wasn't normal. He took a bet and hoped he was right.

  "You're standing in the middle of an army base, jackass. Or do you think anyone can just waltz up to the Fissure and poke their head through for a quick look at New York?"

  "I... what are you talking about?"

  "Ignore him," said Kane. "Just keep still, and keep the gun pointed at him, and shut up."

  Rex looked at Kane, eyes wide. They remained like that for a few seconds, gazes locked, then Rex turned away quickly and raised the gun again.

  Rad raised one eyebrow. Kane smiled.

  "You'd be surprised how much of a fuss the attack on the Empire State Building caused. Not just for the police, either.
Everyone
was called over there. Nothing but a skeleton guard left here. Easy enough to eliminate."

  He looked out at the periphery of the circle, Rex and Rad following his gaze. What Rad had previously ignored, taken to be bundles of cable or more bits of mysterious equipment sucking power out of the Fissure, were actually long low mounds, the edges uneven. Bodies. Several, spread around the circle, hidden in the dark behind the lamps.

  Rex made a sound in the back of his throat, the barrel of the gun dropping a little as his concentration moved elsewhere. Kane gave the man a disgusted look, then turned away.

  "Shut up, Rex."

  Rex turned back to Rad, gun now steady but aimed not quite as well as it had been. His face was shiny with sweat, reflecting the blue of the Fissure brightly. Rad tried to make eye contact with his Origin counterpart, tried to make some connection with someone who was, ostensibly, himself. But Rex wasn't looking at Rad. Rex's eyes were unfocussed, looking somewhere past him. Rad knew he was a gangster, yes, but he thought it was unlikely Rex was accustomed to killing on such a scale and to situations so complex. Everyone had their limits.

  Rex's mouth opened in silent surprise and the gun moved from Rad's face to the empty air over his shoulder. Behind Rex, Kane turned and then whistled at Carson and Lisa, who turned away from their work with some complaint.

  Rad heard a sound behind him. A rustling rumble, low and complex, consisting of many parts. He struggled to remember where he'd heard that kind of sound before, and then realised it was the last time he'd been up during the day. When the city was busy and full of people going about their business. It was people. Lots and lots of people.

  He turned. At the edge of the concrete disc nearest the hangar doors, coming into the light of the Fissure, was a crowd of people. Young men and women, their features and clothes bleached blue with the alien, electric light. In front, a man in a brown suit, his white hood glowing as bright a blue as the New York side of the Fissure.

  "You failed me, Skyguard," Crater called out.

  Rex twitched the gun. Rad wondered how good a shot he'd be. At a distance of a hundred yards or more, he'd have to be pretty good.

  Kane stepped forward, closing the distance between the Fissure and the Pastor's group. He stopped at a midpoint on the concrete disc, tilting his unmasked head.

  "I don't think we've had the pleasure."

  Crater laughed.

  At the corner of his eye, Rad saw the gun wobble in Rex's outstretched hand. Rad glanced at Carson, who stood watching, his face unreadable.

  "Your boss Crater was cracked in more ways than one, eh, Kane? Seems we each have a double. Me and Rex. Sam and Lisa. Carson and Nimrod. Maybe even you and Gardner Gray, eh? But what if the two people, the original and the copy, were forced together into the same time and space? Two minds – the same, but different – in the same body." Rad whistled. "That's quite a condition. Must be crowded in there, Crater. Sorry, Pastor. I mean Chairman."

  Kane listened to Rad, his face creasing as he tried to follow the logic. He turned back to the Pastor.

  "Go home, preacher. Take your flock with you. Go and pray in that white house of yours, or whatever it is you do."

  "Get out of the way, mister!" Rex shouted.

  Kane turned. Rex had taken a step further forward, the muscles in his gun arm so tense they shook. Kane raised his hands slowly, clearly recognising that any sudden movement, no matter how inconsequential, would give Rex's frightened mind all the excuse it needed.

  "Do you want to go home, Rex?" Kane asked.

  Rex dropped the gun's muzzle a little. Kane stepped back towards him.

  "I can get you home. We can all go. Right now."

  The Pastor laughed, or at least Rad thought it was a laugh. It was long, high and harsh, like he was gasping for breath. Rad figured his throat must have felt like hell afterwards, but also figured that the madman wouldn't even notice.

  Carson's split personality theory explained a lot. Judge Crater vanished from New York, but he didn't switch with his counterpart in the Empire State. He merged with him somehow, walking into the mantle of the Chairman of the City Commissioners because that was how it always had been in the Empire State. The two minds fought each other for control, creating the Chairman and the Pastor, two sides to the same coin. One trying to run the city and bring peace, thinking that would enable him to go home. The other driven to religious insanity, thinking that he'd been banished, punished. The solution? Atonement. Sterilise the wound with fire, and return to the old life.