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Out of Spite, Out of Mind

Page 13

by Scott Meyer


  Brit the Much Elder made a selection on the tablet. “That’s pretty much the definition of shortsightedness. Yes, Phillip: James Sadler, aka Jimmy, aka Merlin, is alive and well.”

  Phillip shouted, “Noooooooooo!”

  Brit the Much Elder said, “Definitely yes. This is a surveillance report by two of our operatives, filed just this morning.” She turned her tablet around for Brit the Elder and Phillip. Brit the Elder leaned in to read, smiling.

  Phillip leaned back and turned away, averting his gaze as if the tablet were the remains of a dead animal he’d found in his crawlspace.

  “Are you sure it’s really him?”

  Brit the Elder snorted. “Is it typical for an agent to say things like, the subject is a smug, smarmy bastard in an official report?”

  Phillip moaned. “It’s really him.”

  16.

  Martin held up his right hand and said, “Komuniki kun Gary.”

  Floating above Martin’s hand, a hazy, bluish, semi-transparent image of a flaming human skull appeared, while he heard the sound of a phone ringing. After three rings there was a click, and Gary’s voice said, “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Gary. It’s Martin. Look, I need to call another emergency meeting, and I need to do it at your place again. Cool?”

  “Yeah. Cool.”

  “Great. Thanks, man.”

  “When are you gonna do it?”

  “Right now. I sent out the notice just before I called you.”

  “Not cool.”

  “Yeah, well, you can tell me off when you get here.”

  “What do you mean, when I get there?”

  Martin laughed. “I’m standing in your living room.”

  “So not cool!”

  “Yeah. Where are you?”

  “I’m uh, I’m out front, tending to some things. I’ll be in in a minute or two.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Gary said, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’ll be in soon.”

  “Well, you’re right out front. Maybe I can help.” Martin opened the door to Gary’s antechamber and immediately saw the problem. At the far end of the chamber, beyond the stone altar and laptop-hiding book, he saw Gary standing in front of the open door to the outside. Beside him, Hubert stood in his tuxedo jacket, looking ashamed. Beyond the door, he saw at least ten wretched, desperate-looking young men, all clamoring for Gary’s attention.

  Martin shouted, “There’s more of them, Gary?”

  “Word got out,” Gary said.

  “Yes,” Hubert said. “I’m afraid I let slip that he made me his buster.”

  “Butler. Not buster. Butler, and I don’t need any more! I told them they’re out of luck, but they know I said the same thing to Hubert, and that he waited me out, so now they won’t go away.”

  Martin nodded. “Yeah, I bet. It reminds me of feeding seagulls. You ever done that?”

  “You mean the thing with the Alka-Seltzer? Does that work?”

  “Good luck, Gary. I’ll be in here. Come in when you can. We have something serious to discuss.”

  “Yeah, sure. Hubert, go with Martin and tend to the guests.”

  Martin and Hubert retreated to the inner apartment and closed the door.

  Hubert said, “It sounded like the master wasn’t happy.”

  Martin turned to face him. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll forget all about it when he hears what I have to say.”

  “Your news will make him that happy?”

  “No, it’ll make him even more unhappy, but about something other than your friends and my rudeness.”

  Hubert nodded. “I see. Well, in the meantime, can I bring you anything? Some refreshments, perhaps?”

  “No thanks, Hubert. In fact, we’re going to be discussing wizard business, so you can probably take the next hour or so off.”

  “Thank you.” Hubert bowed and exited down the hall.

  Martin was alone for only a few seconds before Gwen appeared, standing on the floor beside him. She cringed slightly, looking down at her feet, in case she had materialized in or under something nasty.

  “Gwen,” Martin said, “you can relax. I called the meeting, and I guaranteed there would be no pranks. You can trust me.”

  Gwen looked at Martin, inhaled through her nose, and said nothing.

  “Oh,” Martin said. “You’re still mad at me? Look, all I said was that when I think about the future, I see the two of us together. Is that such a terrible thing?”

  Gwen said, “I’m not mad. I’m uncomfortable. I’m not sure how to act. You told me you plan to marry me, but you didn’t actually propose, so now if I stay with you, it’s like we’re engaged, but we aren’t.”

  “Gwen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Answer me this, then, Martin. Are we planning on getting married?”

  “Yes!”

  Gwen stared at him.

  “But, uh, not really,” Martin stammered. “Not officially. Not yet.”

  Gwen kept staring.

  “But we are. Sort of.” Martin deflated.

  “See,” Gwen said. “It’s like you put us in this weird state of pre-marriage where we have all of the responsibility of a married couple without any of the benefits.”

  Martin said, “I told you what I think. That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to me. You can leave me if you want to. I’m sure there are plenty of guys rushing to sign up for a lifetime of this.”

  “Okay, now I am mad at you,” Gwen said.

  Tyler materialized, standing on solid ground with a big smile on his face. “I gotta tell you, it is a lot nicer to teleport when you know you’re not going to land in anything unpleasant.”

  Martin and Gwen took a break from glaring at each other to glare at Tyler, who cringed, but wisely said nothing.

  A few excruciating seconds later, Jeff and Roy appeared.

  “Okay, kid. What is it?” Roy asked.

  Martin said, “Just a second. Gary should be here soon.”

  “Why?” Roy asked. “Where is he?”

  Gary entered through the door to the antechamber. “I’m here. I would have come out sooner, but I was enjoying listening to Gwen and Martin fight. It’s a bummer that she doesn’t want to marry you, Martin, but I don’t blame her. I don’t want to marry you either.”

  Martin clenched his jaw, turned away from Gary, and, slowly, as if each word was having to fight its way out through his teeth, said, “Now that we’re all here, I have news. You remember the person I saw attacking Phillip?”

  Gary said, “I thought you said he was a goblin.”

  “The person, who looks like a goblin, you all said I was imagining? I caught him.”

  Jeff’s eyes grew wide. “You did?!”

  “Yes.”

  Tyler raised a finger. “And you’re sure you didn’t imagine catching him?”

  “Yes. Shut up.”

  Jeff said, “Okay, good. Glad you weren’t going crazy, Martin. So, who was it?”

  “Phillip.”

  “No, I mean who was messing with Phillip?”

  “Phillip. Phillip was messing with Phillip. I caught someone messing with Phillip, and it was Phillip. Future Phillip.”

  Gwen shook her head.

  Tyler looked both exasperated and sympathetic. “Martin, are you sure Phillip isn’t jerking you around?”

  “Yes! I mean, technically, he is, because it is Phillip who’s been hiding from me, but that’s Future Phillip. And he’s doing it because he doesn’t want me to stop him from messing with Present Phillip.”

  Jeff muttered, “Wouldn’t our Phillip be Past Phillip, because we’re in the past?”

  Roy said, “Not to us.”
/>   Tyler asked, “In your previous job, you didn’t run a lot of staff meetings, did you Martin?”

  Gwen smirked at Tyler.

  Jeff said, “Martin, if, as you say, Phillip from the future is attacking our Phillip, he had to have a reason. Did you ask him?”

  “Yes. Of course I asked him.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said that he’s trying to prevent our Phillip from making some kind of mistake. A mistake that leads to some sort of tragedy or something.”

  Gary nodded. “Ah, so you’ve called us all together so we can help him.”

  “Uh, no. So you can help me stop him.”

  Gwen let out an amused snort. “Stop him from preventing a tragedy.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “He’s Phillip! You don’t trust Phillip?”

  “Of course I trust Phillip! I’m trying to protect Phillip!”

  “From Phillip,” Gwen said. “By trying to get all of us to attack Phillip! Why would we do that?”

  “For Phillip,” Martin offered. “Look, you didn’t see Future Phillip. He was a mess, and he was acting squirrelly.”

  Roy said, “He’s been through some sort of tragedy.”

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “And he’s got you, arguably his best friend, giving him a hard time.”

  “I don’t like it,” Martin said. “He’s meddling in Phillip’s life.”

  “And by stopping him, so are you,” Tyler said. “Twice. Once from his point of view, and again from our Phillip’s point of view.”

  Jeff said, “Not again, before. Our Phillip’s earlier in the time stream, so for him, Martin’s meddling is happening before it happens to Future Phillip.”

  “I’m not meddling!”

  “No,” Roy said. “You’re just changing things about Phillip’s life as you see fit.”

  “Against his will,” Tyler said.

  “And behind his back,” Gary added. “At least, one of his backs.”

  “Yeah,” Roy said. “With the other one you’re openly preventing him from doing what he wants.”

  “Okay,” Martin shouted. “So I’m meddling! I’m doing it for his own good. Isn’t that what friends do?”

  Jeff said, “In theory, absolutely not. In practice, yeah, usually.”

  “Great, so who’s going to help me help Phillip?”

  “By stopping Phillip,” Tyler added.

  “Yes.”

  After a long and painful silence, Roy said, “This is going to sound like a joke, but it ain’t. You should ask Phillip to help.”

  “Which Phillip?” Gary asked.

  “Any Phillip. Martin, if you get some version of Phillip to come in here and tell us that this other Phillip has to be stopped, we might be more inclined to join you.”

  Tyler asked, “How about it, Martin? Why not go to the future and talk to Phillip about it?”

  “I tried that,” Martin said.

  “And?”

  “He told me to drop it.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Not personally. He had the message delivered in a magic act.”

  Roy shrugged. “Well, there’s your answer.”

  Jeff nodded. “Your confusing, crazy-sounding answer.”

  Martin stewed for a moment, looking at the faces of his friends. “You all feel this way?”

  They all made noises, head movements, or a combination of both that said Yeah, I guess, but we don’t feel great about it.

  “None of you are going to help me?”

  Martin saw another barrage of grumbles and gestures.

  “Fine,” Martin said. “I’ll just have to help Phillip, and stop . . . Phillip myself.”

  Gwen said, “Martin, don’t do anything . . .”

  Martin noticed that she’d trailed off. “What? Rash?”

  “No,” Gwen said. “You’re gonna do something rash. We all know that. Just, don’t do anything that can’t be undone, okay?”

  17.

  Phillip pushed open the door and stepped from the warm sunlight of the Atlantean street into the relative cool dark of Brit the Younger’s apartment. He called out, “Hello, Nik. We’re back.”

  Nik yelled from the kitchen, “You were gone a while. Did you have a nice walk?”

  Brit the Younger breezed in after Phillip. “Yes, we did. I’m so glad I decided to go along this time.”

  “Yes,” Phillip said. “I couldn’t be happier that you decided to join me at the last minute. Plus, you found so many interesting things to stop and look at.”

  “There’s nothing better than a leisurely stroll. Especially on a day like today, when you don’t have anywhere in particular that you need to be.”

  “Quite,” Phillip said.

  Nik poked his head out of the kitchen and saw a small parcel in Brit’s hands. “Oh, Brit, you got the lamb I asked for!”

  Brit held the package up for inspection. “Two pounds, as requested.”

  Nik took the package. “Thank you, Brit.”

  Phillip cleared his throat. “We both got you the lamb.”

  Nik smiled at him. “What? Oh, yes. I suppose you both did.”

  “Really,” Phillip said. “I’m the one who brought it up as we walked past the butcher shop.”

  “I believe you. Thank you, too, Phillip.” Nik winked at Brit as he walked into the kitchen with the lamb.

  “I don’t think he believed me,” Phillip grumbled.

  Brit gave him a squeeze. “Oh, Phillip, we just had a wonderful, long, leisurely walk. Don’t let Nik’s teasing spoil your good mood.”

  Phillip forced a smile and returned her hug. “You’re right, of course. Say, I need to use the restroom.”

  Brit released her hug and looked at him a bit sideways. “Okay.”

  “So, I’m going to do that.”

  “Sounds wise.”

  “Okay then.” Phillip walked toward the bathroom. As he opened the door, he glanced back at Brit, who had sat down in her chair and picked up a book. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Brit laughed. “I’d hope so. You really need your staff?”

  Phillip looked at the staff clenched in his hand. “Oh, uh, not really, but you know how it is. I sort of feel naked without it.”

  “It’s a bathroom. You’re supposed to feel naked in there.”

  Phillip laughed a little bit too hard. “Good point! Yes! Good point indeed!”

  He stepped into the bathroom, still carrying his staff, and closed the door behind him. He grumbled, “I’ll come along, she says. Here I wanted to get this over with and instead I spend an hour and fifteen minutes wandering around aimlessly looking at things and buying lamb, which I remembered on my own, thank you very much! At least she won’t want to come along when I come in here. Bloody undignified. Just have to pop back in a realistic amount of time.”

  He stood up straight, took a deep breath, and said, “Transporto al aparta loko.”

  In an instant he was standing in an opulently—if not tastefully—decorated hallway. Sconces shaped like giant glowing seashells cast light on wallpaper featuring a tight repeating trellis pattern in reflective silver on a sea of glossy black. Below, there was wall-to-wall carpet featuring aqua blobs and lime-green slashes. Above, there was a dingy cream-colored acoustic ceiling.

  Brit the Elder stood in the hallway, looking tired but alert. She wore yet another coordinated pant suit she’d stolen from Brit the Much Elder’s closet, this one jet-black with slightly flared cuffs and collar, for a vague Jackie Brown sort of vibe, which was ruined by a pair of light blue foam-rubber clogs.

  Brit the Elder looked down at her feet and shrugged. Phillip knew that any shoes she wore would start glitching out in a
few hours and need to be destroyed. He could only assume that she’d decided that if she was going to ruin something, it might as well be something cheap and ugly.

  Phillip started to speak, but Brit the Elder held a finger to her lips and pointed down the hallway. The hall was lined with numbered doors that clearly led to various condos. A half-dozen doors down, the hall turned left, and Phillip heard unseen people locked in a tense conversation around that corner.

  A man who managed to growl while nearly shouting said, “Sadler is dangerous in ways you can’t imagine. Going in there alone is—”

  A quieter male voice interrupted, “Unwise. Ma’am.”

  The first speaker said, “I was going to say stupid.”

  The quieter voice repeated, “Unwise.”

  A woman’s voice, which Phillip immediately recognized as Brit the Much Elder’s, said, “I have a feeling, working with you, your partner has become an expert in the unwise, Agent Miller. I appreciate your concern, and the passion with which you’ve expressed your reservations has changed my mind.”

  “Good.”

  “Instead of waiting here by the elevator, Agent Miller, you and Agent Murphy will wait downstairs in your car. Is that clear?”

  Miller made some strangling noises deep in his throat.

  Murphy said, “Crystal clear, ma’am.”

  “Good. Maybe you can spend the time cleaning it, or spraying some Glade or something. That back seat reeks of bananas.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “On your way, then. Off you pop.”

  Miller said, “We’ll have to wait for the elevator, ma’am.”

  “Nonsense. You’re two healthy men. The stairs are right there.”

  Murphy said, “Yes, ma’am.” Miller made a noise that could have been either agreement or the growl of a large animal.

  A door clicked shut.

  Brit the Much Elder walked around the corner, wearing the exact same suit as Brit the Elder—but with stylish black shoes. She shook her head.

  “Stubborn, aren’t they?” Brit the Elder asked.

  “Yes,” Jimmy said, “but they aren’t wrong. I am dangerous.”

  Brit the Elder and Phillip turned to see James Sadler, aka Jimmy, aka Merlin, standing in the open door to his condo wearing black pants and a slightly faded black polo shirt.

 

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