20
Identity: Bobby Baxter
“Sid!” I yelled out into our private emergency channels.
“Jesus, Bob, what is it?” he replied as his reality merged with mine.
I watched Sid working, engrossed in some data-mining blitz as he searched through reams of multiverse worlds. Even with the storms threatening, he was still on the hunt for Willy’s body, his dozens of phantom hands dancing through the hyper-control spaces around him.
“If you play with your phantoms too much, you’ll grow hair on them,” I couldn’t help joking as I watched him and Vicious working their magic.
“No more Humungous Fungus this week, I’ve had enough, buddy.” They gave me several fingers. I watched them fiddle around some more.
“So what has your hair on fire?” Sid finally asked.
“I need your help to infiltrate the Cognix networks.”
That stopped them in their tracks. Sid looked at me and cracked a smile, all his phantoms dropping to the ground.
“Let’s get the band back together,” I continued.
“Jimmy, too?” Sid asked. Vicious was vigorously shaking his head behind him.
“I think we’ll let Jimmy sit this one out.” Jimmy had bigger fish to fry, and something about him made me very uneasy. “But I’m going to ping him and tell him we’re doing our own storm research. That way we won’t raise any alarms if we scan the perimeter.” I thought about this for a second. “And I want him to know what we’re doing.”
“Sure,” said Vicious, “just don’t tell him too much.”
That wasn’t a problem. I didn’t know anything.
“I think we should get Vince in on this, too,” added Sid.
Nodding, I pinged Jimmy, shifting my primary subjective into a tight and secure channel that he opened up to me. My perspective shifted into a small, pristine white room, where I found myself seated at a white interview table. Jimmy had his hands clasped on the table and was staring directly into my eyes.
“Did you find Wally yet?” He cracked the faintest of smiles. “What’s going on? No surfing today?”
21
Identity: Jimmy Scadden
“No,” replied Bob, “even I couldn’t handle what’s going on out there right now.”
The storms had converged. Winds were tearing at the forests while an angry ocean pounded the beaches mercilessly. Surface access would be shut off soon as we finished stowing everything and everyone below decks.
Incredibly, the storms were getting worse. As they neared the coast, and each other, they defied all physics and gained in strength, progressing past Category 5 into something terrifyingly unknown.
We’d already entered American territorial waters, and their air force and navy was scrambling to surround us, battling their own way through the storms. Atopia and the US were close allies, but the prospect of having a wholly independent country slide across the map and run aground in California had raised some hackles, even if they understood we had no choice. The fact that Atopia contained a fully energized fusion core raised the diplomatic tension bar just that much higher.
Of course, the anticipation of two giant hurricanes simultaneously slamming into one of America’s most populated coasts had them already preoccupied. Communications were strangely incoherent. It may have just been the storms, but we seemed to be getting contradictory diplomatic messages from one moment to the next.
Despite it all, I had a plan for our escape and had been running phutures of it right at the moment Bob had pinged me. As busy as I was, Bob’s primary subjective calling me on an emergency channel was unusual enough to warrant the attention of a splinter.
“So what can I do for you?” I asked, not bothering to explain how busy I was. Bob was many things, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I think I can help find out who’s doing this.”
“Really?” I raised my eyebrows. “And just how do you propose to do that?”
“I know how busy you are, so I won’t waste time on details.” Bob looked down at his feet, “From all the time we spent together, you know I have special abilities. Just trust me and open up some ports for me to scan the multiverse.”
I looked at Bob. Memories from our long-past childhood friendship flashed to mind. There was nothing to lose. “Go ahead, but feed us back anything you find.”
In any case, I’d keep a close eye on him. I dispatched several agents to watch his movements. “You got it, Jimmy.”
I closed the connection, returning to the escape simulation. A giant fireball filled my primary mind.
“Looks like it’ll work,” said Samson. We were scheduled to present our plan to the Council within the hour. “Why don’t you take a quick break, decompress before the meeting?”
That seemed like a good idea. Samson could handle it from here.
The fireball slipped away and I relaxed, letting my mind wander back to Bob’s offer. I was surprised he had any interest in helping out, but then again, the last time he’d helped me out had been the biggest catastrophe of my childhood.