Broke and Famous

by Elizabeth Gannon

  Now though? The closest Kurtz got to science now was playing Dr. Mario on his Game Boy. He was fifteen pounds overweight, his hair was scraggly and unkempt, and he spent even less time in the world than Colby did. He filled most of his day drinking, smoking weed, playing video games alone in his darkened bedroom, or yelling at Thraex for supposed injustices against him. Half of the meals he ate consisted entirely of Doritos and Mountain Dew, and he slept until 4:00 in the afternoon most days. If not later. His primary personality characteristics were depression and being flippantly cynical about everything.

  When he was sober and firing on all cylinders, the man could turn a coffee cup into a nuclear reactor if he wanted. The future was born in that man’s head, miraculous things which no one had ever considered before. Not even Sasha or the other Westgates. Ideas which were lightyears beyond the scope of the human world to even bring to life yet, and seemed more like… magic. Like God himself was using Kurtz as his pencil, sketching out the world of tomorrow far in advance.

  Kurtz was one of those men who could have changed the world. He could have taken his place among the all-time great visionaries and inventors. There should have been statues of him in town squares around the globe, and dozens of libraries and universities named in his honor.

  But instead, he hadn’t done anything in more than a decade. At all.

  He’d long ago stopped even trying.

  These days, you were lucky if he remembered to shower.

  Colby was looking inside herself for the answers to her problems, fatalistically assuming that she was the only thing about her world she could change. Colby hid in her own mind. But Kurtz was forever living in the past and focused outward. Looking for something in the parade of skanky women he ushered through the door here, convinced that this time the relationship would work. That this time, he’d find love and acceptance and whatever it was he thought he was missing inside himself. But he never did. Which just made his depression and fatalism worse.

  Kurtz seemed determined to make every bad decision at once and prove wrong everyone who had ever believed in him.

  He was a washed-up drunken loser.

  And that was being kind.

  Sasha loved her brother, but… that asshole could be such an idiot sometimes.

  “Dammit, Thraex!” Kurtz protested, skidding on the floor in his novelty Star Trek slipper-socks. “I was in the middle of robbing that little Bell girl’s temple!”

  “Your sexual exploits are your own damn business.” Thraex reminded him icily, making his way back to his place at the head of the table, moving with his usual mix of animalistic grace and fury. “You won’t discuss them at the breakfast table again.”

  Breakfasts were big to Thraex, for some odd reason. She’d never quite figured it out. Every morning, no matter how angry or hungover or depressed, they all had to file down here to eat together.

  Despite his two decades in this dimension though, Thraex had never understood the apparently difficult rules of which foods were for breakfast and which foods were for dinner. To him, all foods were good all of the time. They were food.

  Today, for instance, they were having fried chicken. For breakfast. It should have seemed odd, but Sasha had long ago decided that the whole thing was charming in a crazy way, and had gotten used to it. It was one more reason why living in the Westgate Foundation building was surreal and improbable, and one more reason why she’d be glad to flee it forever. Again.

  Nash turned another page in her newspaper. “It’s a video game, sir. He means he’s winning the video game.”

  Thraex didn’t respond to that, instead just staring at Nash’s polished vintage boots, which were resting on the table.

  The woman continued to read, oblivious to the growing tension which was manifesting like an invisible storm cloud over their heads.

  Thraex’s temper was on the verge of flaring, so Sasha quickly stepped in before there was trouble. “Nash, dear? Can you please take your feet off the table?”

  The woman immediately did as she was asked, and peace once again reigned in the Westgate’s breakfast room.

  “I’ll never understand what the hell’s so goddamned important about breakfast anyway.” Kurtz grumbled, flopping sulkily into his chair. At the moment, he was wearing the very same blue shirt he’d been wearing for the last three days at breakfast. Sasha recognized it, because it was emblazoned with the logo for 1969’s “The Invaders,” Kurtz’s favorite TV show. Her brother didn’t really throw anything away and he paid very little attention to his own life, as evidenced by the fact he hadn’t changed clothes in days. Honestly, she’d be amazed if the man had even seen the sun this month.

  “Good.” Thraex finished his silent headcount of Westgates, and finding them all present and accounted for, he sank into his chair. “Now that everyone is here, we can begin to enjoy this fine meal.”

  Colby frowned. “What about Mrs. Zhanna?”

  “My mama has decided to skip breakfast today.” Thraex announced, apparently still fuming about an unseen argument which he’d obviously lost.

  Sasha couldn’t help but smile. There was something about Thraex getting pouty which always amused her in a weird way. It reminded her of the little boy from that nightmare of a dimension, and his amazement at discovering the many wonders of the Westgate Foundation’s headquarters in New York. He’d spent the first months after his arrival in this dimension just following her around, as if in a daze.

  In the years since, Thraex had become single-minded, bitter, complicated, violent, brooding, mysterious, cruel, and ruthlessly cynical. He didn’t show any other outward signs of anything approaching a human emotion, other than sarcasm, anger, and mocking over-the-top flirtation. He didn’t date, he didn’t go out and have fun, and he was uninterested in anything other than the immediate present and impending future.

  Thraex was one of the most motivated people she’d ever met, but he didn’t seem to have any particular ambition or goal. Or at least none that he’d ever shared with her.

  Which was a shame.

  She’d been very close with him when they were both younger, but like all things in the Westgate Foundation, they’d drifted apart. Which… had been her fault, obviously.

  He’d been such a hopeful, charming little boy. He’d been tortured, yes, but he hadn’t let that destroy him. But somehow, the Westgates had. The kindness in his eyes was gone now. They’d failed him like they’d failed everyone else, and a terrifyingly complicated man now stood where there had once been a victimized and scared little boy. He’d left his dimension as a slave, but the weakness of the Westgates had turned him into some kind of cruel demon. And he seemed to take great delight in getting revenge on them for that failure. He could have left this building and gone off to do whatever he wanted. He had the money and ability to do anything. But, instead, he remained here. Seemingly for no other purpose than to torture them.

  He’d tracked her down and brought her back here, imprisoning her in her own past, as his revenge.

  Still, despite all of that, whenever she looked at him, she couldn’t help but feel sad. She had turned him into this. She’d ruined his life. He’d had such a gentle, beautiful soul.

  Then he’d met her.

  And an innocent little boy just wasn’t prepared for the kinds of trouble the Westgates could cause.

  No one was.

  Sasha had spent decades of her life trying to understand him. To figure out what he wanted and why he did the things he did. But Thraex was a man who defied being understood.

  These days, she didn’t really like being around Thraex. He frightened her. He was too… intense. He stalked around the now empty halls of the Westgate building like a monster searching for victims. And it made her feel uneasy.

  There had been an… incident between them, years before. Things had gotten physical. And since then, Sasha tried to always have someone else in the room with her when Thraex was around. Just in case.

  He turned to look at her, eyes bu
rning into her soul.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t find his frustration funny.

  She cleared her throat, trying to hide her amusement at his foul mood and the way the hard lines of his face crinkled up in frustration. “Sorry, just… thirsty.” She took a sip of her drink to cover her laugh.

  “Why do I have to come down to your stupid breakfast-dinner every day if the old lady doesn’t!?!” Kurtz demanded, checking the time. Her brother always wore three wristwatches on his left wrist. Sasha wasn’t sure why, exactly, but he’d done it for as long as she could remember. “Why did you give Zhanna the day off and not me?”

  “Did you give birth to me?” Thraex asked calmly.

  “No, but…”

  “Then there’s your answer.” Thraex’s eyes darkened again. “She will rejoin us tomorrow though.” He paused for a beat. “…Whether she likes it or not.”

  “Giraffes are very sensitive to threats.” Colby chided, pointing at the animal in question. “You know that Zoe doesn’t like it when you’re mean.”

  “I don’t care what Zoe wants.” Thraex announced, grabbing one of the plates and loading it with food. “My business is my business, and I don’t need to run it by zoo animals first.”

  “I was kept in a zoo once.” Kurtz reminisced aloud. “It hurts when they wash you with that hose.”

  Thraex turned to look at him in silent amazement for a moment, and Sasha quickly stepped in before there was more yelling.

  “I’m sure Thraex remembers that, Kurtz. It was his home dimension, after all.” She reminded her brother.

  They had been exploring the multiverse and had happened across Thraex’s home dimension. Kurtz had been captured by the guards there, and when the Westgates had gone to retrieve him, they’d also found Thraex and his mother in the same series of cells.

  They didn’t know it at the time… but it was the beginning of the end for them all.

  “This is his home dimension now.” Colby helpfully corrected, trying to feed her tiny giraffe macaroni. The animal was a ruminant though, and it wasn’t yet sold on the idea of pasta, no matter how much persuading Colby tried.

  Sasha was pretty sure the man would take Colby’s words as an insult, since he seemed to have nothing but contempt for this earth, so she tried to cover for her niece. “I’m… I’m sure that’s not true. His home dimension has a rich history and I’m sure he’ll always be a part of it in his heart.” She had always been worried about Thraex feeling like he needed to be ashamed of his heritage, since he was basically an immigrant to this dimension. She wanted him to be proud of his people, even if his history with the government there had been terrible.

  Her words didn’t appear to have their desired effect. In fact, they just seemed to make the man angrier.

  To be fair though, most everything seemed to make Thraex mad these days. Life in this building with him was a constant juggling act. She was pretty certain that one day he’d just get fed-up with his game and kick them all out on the street, and she had absolutely no idea what she’d do then.

  Sasha loved her family… but she recognized that they couldn’t survive on their own.

  The Westgates were hothouse flowers now. They wouldn’t make it outside of their own controlled environment.

  And the man at the controls of that environment was Thraex.

  They needed him. And he knew it.

  “Speaking of which,” Kurtz poured vodka into his orange juice and took a gulp, “where are our paychecks?”

  The room fell into silence.

  Sasha winced, expecting a fight.

  There was nothing in this world which could start an argument in the Westgate building faster than asking about money.

  “You were all paid last Friday.” Thraex said coldly, eating a bite of cornbread.

  “I didn’t get jack-shit last Friday!” Kurtz retorted, sloshing his drink around as he gestured with his hand.

  “Because you haven’t done jack-shit in the last dozen Fridays!” Thraex shot back, voice booming. “Unless you count earth whores and cocaine!”

  “What a great name for a band.” Nash thought aloud, holding up her hands as if unveiling the marquee. “’Live tonight: Earth Whores and Cocaine!’”

  Kurtz stood up, hands balling into fists. “You’re stealing from us!” He spat out. “We all see it! I’m just the only one who isn’t too scared of you to say so!”

  Colby nodded. “That’s what Zoe thinks too.” She shook her head. “Although you know how giraffes can be about such things. They’re such naturally paranoid little animals.”

  Kurtz pointed at the creature in question without taking his eyes off of Thraex, as if Zoe’s support gave him all the moral authority he needed.

  The tiny animal simply wagged its bristly tail uncomprehendingly at him, apparently just happy to be involved in the conversation.

  “You’ve been bleeding us dry for years, you bastard!” Kurtz accused, glaring at Thraex. “You’re not a Westgate, you’re an outsider! You’ll always be an outsider, no matter how you try to worm your way in, or how much of our legacy you steal! And now you’ve got your mother sleeping in our parents’ bed, in our family’s building, filling your pockets with our money, and…”

  “Sit. Down.” Thraex told him flatly, his voice echoing through the room with raw power. “Now.”

  Nash put her paper down, recognizing that things were serious.

  Everybody in Reichelt Park knew you didn’t push Thraex. Not anymore. It wouldn’t end well for you.

  He’d ended whole careers in less time than it took other men to remove their jackets. What he’d done to Jaxx Brixton was the perfect example of that.

  It had taken less than 30 seconds for him to break that man so badly he’d never healed.

  That’s what had made Thraex such a valuable tool for the Freedom Squad in the first place. He wasn’t flashy or part of the superhero set, but he was one of the most effective men you were ever going to find.

  Zoe tried to scamper away across the table in fright, and Colby carefully shielded her pet with her hands, just in case there was about to be violence.

  Sasha stood up, preparing to get between them, and praying that the fight lasted long enough for that. If he wanted to, Thraex could crush Kurtz with one hand before Sasha could even move. Undoubtedly.

  Kurtz backed down before that happened though, sinking into his chair. He couldn’t fight Thraex and he knew it. Again, the man was faaar more powerful than Kurtz could ever be, and was much better trained. For another, Thraex held all of their futures in his hands.

  Like it or not, Thraex controlled the Westgates now. They were basically his pets.

  Because the Westgates might have the fame which came from being the toast of their community and once being on the forefront of groundbreaking technology, but the money had long ago run out or been stolen by Thraex.

  The Westgates were broke and famous.

  Thraex was rich and ruthless.

  There was no contest about who was in charge of whom.

  Thraex turned to face her for a long moment, either angry that she’d get involved or surprised and hurt that she’d been so concerned about the possibility of him killing Kurtz today. If she had to guess, she’d say the former. But she wasn’t sure.

  She involuntarily took a step away from him, and ended up falling back into her chair.

  “Don’t you hit her.” Nash warned Thraex, sounding serious. “That’s…”

  “I’ve never hit her in my life, even when she broke into my home and stole from me.” Thraex bit out, interrupting her, sounding deeply offended by the woman’s warning. He rounded on Nash, towering over her. “And if in some moment of blind rage I decided that today was the day my self-control finally snapped, I seriously doubt I’d be scared off by a hundred and twenty pound chauffeur.” He met the woman’s gaze dead-on. “You are out of line, Nash.”

  The room fell silent.

  “We used to mean something in this town.�
� Kurtz finally grumbled to himself, staring unseeingly at the tabletop. “We used to be somebody. Everybody said. But then you got here and…”

  “Are you done?” Thraex hoarsely demanded, cutting him off. For some reason, this particular topic seemed to be upsetting him more than usual.

  “I don’t think he was, no.” Colby answered, then paused for a moment. “Zoe isn’t sure. She always expects Uncle Kurtz to continue rambling…”

  “This is not appropriate breakfast conversation.” Thraex ignored the girl, continuing to loom over Kurtz. “You’re gonna sit there, and you’re gonna eat your damn breakfast. Until it is time to go to work. At which point, you will do what I tell you to do, you understand me?”

  Kurtz stared down at his plate, obviously fighting back the urge to scream obscenities. Her brother always seemed five seconds away from screaming or crying though, so it wasn’t unusual.

  “I think the problem is…” Sasha began calmly.

  “This is BULLSHIT!” Kurtz cut her off in a shrill cry, no longer able to keep silent. “I shouldn’t have to…”

  Thraex’s hand shot out to roughly stuff a piece of cornbread into Kurtz’s mouth, stopping the tirade midsentence. “A lady is speaking.” He informed the man, then calmly looked down the table at her, as if he wasn’t currently choking her brother with food. “Please continue, Miss Sasha, ignore his rudeness. You were saying?”

  Nash snorted in amusement.

  “I was just going to say that perhaps we would feel better about our… umm… arrangement, if we had a clearer idea of our finances and a better picture of what our place in the business is now.” She ate a piece of her chicken, hoping the action would calm the situation and remind everyone that they were supposed to be eating. “And I don’t think choking my brother is really going to help that, or provide the kind of peaceful mealtime atmosphere you seem to be lobbying for here, Thraex.”

  Thraex considered that for a moment. “Very well.” He released Kurtz on her order and ruffled his hair in a clumsy attempt at comradery. The action was too rough though and seemed more like he wanted to scramble Kurtz’s brain inside his skull. “Once again, cooler and more charming heads prevail when two hot-headed scoundrels get to fightin’.”