by Pam Uphoff
Mrs. Chesterfield dozed off for a moment, while he added Eldon Brown at a fake address, then waited around until she finished and sealed that one, before he abstracted it and slipped back out. He cheerfully made his way down hill, and told Lily that her nemesis had no dents in her car. "Are you going to pretend it didn't happen?"
"No. I'm going to pretend I barely touched her. And look, no damage to either car, so how could I have hit her hard enough to injure her neck?"
Eldon grinned. "Should seriously flamboozle her. I stuck a few drops of joy juice into her lemonade up there, so if her neck really was wrenched a bit, that will all be fixed too. So I'll take myself off your hands, thank you for the hospitality, and . . . Oh." He looked at the stack of bills she'd pulled out of her purse. "I feel a bit ungracious taking that. Oh hey, can I see your local ID?"
"Don't be silly. The repairs to just my own car would have cost more than that." She fished out a card, paper laminated in hard plastic. Pretty similar to the old Texas one he had. Her eyes widened as he grabbed some plastic from the garbage and a color advertising circular and turned them into a driver's license with his own picture on it.
"I'm sure that's quite illegal." She sounded shocked.
"I know, but when I try to explain about parallel worlds and all, they tend to lock me up."
She snickered at that, so he waved casually – don't push it – and departed. This time he bubbled the SUV and the wagon, and three horses. He rode Muffin up and around, exploring the area. A road through a steep walled canyon led to a flood control dam, something he guessed was built to break up the front of a flash flood and even out the flow, not stockpile it for later. The steep wall of the canyon, cut back to make room for the approach road, was perfect for his needs. Because things that were inside a bubble didn't really exist in the Universe the bubble opening was attached to. All a bubble needed was a wall to attach to and a moderately stiff frame inside to keep whatever shape one desired. Such as a nice little stable with an attached apartment. In fact, if he made it two separate bubbles, he'd be able to store the horses in no-time, so no worry about feed and water and cleaning stalls. The doors and windows to his little house could be covered with illusions, where a strategically located tree wouldn't do . . . Such as this branch of a large oak tree reaching across the cliff face. He shaped the loose rock lying at the bottom of the cliff into the garage for the SUV first, then the stable could go on the back. Ha! A corridor to a spot up in the mountains would be nice, wouldn't it? Or maybe he could find a nice pasture somewhere outside this desert. And his apartment up above the garage, with windows peeking out into the rest of the oak tree, here and there. Huh. Nice. Maybe he could keep the whole thing, next time he had to move. In this over-civilized neighborhood he could even tap water lines and sewers. Seriously cool.
He had enough food left in bubbles to fix dinner, then got a reasonable night's sleep on the floor. He'd have to buy some furniture pretty soon.
First, though, he needed a way to earn a living. An honest way. He pondered the question over breakfast. He'd been drifting away from the gang since they'd kept straying into robbery whenever they got bored. No point in leaving them if he was just going to be a criminal anyway. Selling magic elixirs had proven to be hazardous and he really didn't want to run another baldness cure place.
He cocked his head thoughtfully at his SUV. Lily had thought that repairing cars was expensive. So . . . maybe he should repair cars. He put an illusion of a local license plate over the old Jefferson-half-a-dozen-worlds-ago plate and drove out to establish himself.
A public library had all the addresses he needed. He could get by with fake birth certificates and driver's licenses for years. But try and fake the number you paid your taxes under and they'd jump all over you. The gang had learned Worlds ago that they should never get between a government and its money.
So he found the Social Security Office and took a number and waited, and waited. He explained to the lady in the window that somehow his number had mixed up with someone who had died, all the while mentally suggesting that he needed to talk to some sort of very competent senior supervisor who could fix it for him. Another hour's wait and his turn with the competent man who, after a bit of a tussle with a tough, natural mental shield, found for him a Harlem Brown, a year younger than Eldon, who had died two years ago. The Supervisor was happy to revive the number, printed out all the info he had on Harlem, and promised to mail the new social security card to Mr. Brown at once. Eldon used Lily's parent's address and made a note to himself to check their mail frequently.
Eldon looked through Harlem's spotty employment record and had a nasty suspicion that he was going to regret picking up Harlem's past baggage. But he changed the name and numbers on his driver’s license to match Harlem's, and then hunted down the next address on his list, a store that bought and sold gold, silver, coins, jewelry, teeth . . . He was a bit afraid to ask about the teeth. But the little man behind the security door and further caged behind a counter took a gold slug that weighed almost a pound and looked cynical when Eldon rattled off a social security number, and surprised when Eldon agreed to take a check.
He treated himself to a good dinner on Lily's cash, slept like a rock all night, and in the morning opened a bank account with the check.
***
". . . couldn't possibly hire anyone who knows so little. Go away and stop wasting my time."
Eldon frowned as he left. Repairing cars apparently required special training and certification. Even just taking dents out of the exteriors. This was the second place that had scoffed at him. Like on other worlds, he just wasn't employable. He'd have to start his own business. He slowed as he passed a high walled junkyard. Parked, and looked around.
"Looking for anything in particular?" The old man was so crumpled Eldon hadn't even noticed him among the crumpled bumpers.
"Got anything that still runs? I can do miracles with wrecked bodies."
The old man snorted. "Miracles!" He looked pointedly at the Suburban. "Sounds like you need bearings and shocks, maybe bent your suspension, there." But he got up and walked around the corner of the shack. "Got these two at auction yesterday. That's one's a popular model, and the whole left side's in perfect condition. That alone will repay the price. Everything else is pure profit. The other one's got real leather seats, but the rest of it is totaled. Maybe the engine and transmission will be all right. But the leather seats are where the money will come from. Can you miracle that?"
"That might actually be a bit much even for me." Eldon frowned. "Auction?"
"Yeah, some for wrecks, but most are just trade ins. Older cars, worn out, lots of dings in them. That's what you need to be looking at."
Eldon scratched his chin. "Hmm, I was thinking newer would bring more money."
" 'course it will. Cost you more, too."
Eldon leaned on him mentally to make him a bit more talkative, and wound up invited along to an auction. He bought two wrecks, both something called a mustang.
Sold them a week later as 'customized' to account for some of the extra hood scoops, side panel decor and the polished metal and the shiny paint job. He'd gotten a little carried away, showing off to Old Pat.
Old Pat had rented him a patch of ground on which to work his miracles, and watched in disbelief as he molded the metal. Pat left, returned with three wrecked Mercedes and suggested a partnership.
Chapter Three
Party!
Margo and Jack Level's home was a monstrous heap that put Margo's parents' mere 'ten bedrooms plus quarters for two domestics' mansion in perspective.
Possibly in eclipse.
Lily and her parents were announced, and walked into the ballroom. Margo's eyes lit up as she spotted Lily. "Thank god you could come. I need a dose of sanity. Or maybe I need you to ram Sindara again. Harder."
Lily grinned. "Well, she and Harold have kissed and made up and she admits that her neck hasn't felt so good in years and there's no damage to the Mercede
s. So I think I'll not start another round, thank you." And she did back up into me, damn it!
"Spoilsport. They got here half an hour ago, and are all over each other. It's disgusting. They're almost thirty. They have kids."
Jack overheard that and flashed his grin at Lily. "I have this hideous suspicion that Margo thinks her love life will evaporate with a baby. Much though I hate to say it, I may have to keep inviting Harold and Sindara back to set a good example of an on-going healthy loving relationship."
"I think surprising the hell out of Margo sounds like more fun." Lily snickered.
"Oh, good. You like surprises?"
Lily spun at the unexpected voice behind her. "Eldon?"
Margo blinked. "Lily, have you got an actual boyfriend? Finally?"
"No. Eldon's just . . . well, a friend friend."
Eldon's bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "Ouch! At least it's happened at the front of our relationship, not the dreaded ending of 'Lets just be friends.' " He dropped his voice at the end to a deep dark bass rumble, and a couple of heads swiveled his direction.
"Good voice." Jack glanced at the pricked ears. "Do you act? You just caught the attention of a slew of people. Really, that was very, umm, James Earl Jones."
"Yeah, I saw him on the TV. Easy to copy. Nah, I don't act any more than necessary to sell a used Mercedes." His natural voice was deep anyway, and warm, amused.
"Oh, a lot huh?" Jack was eyeing Eldon thoughtfully.
Eldon grinned wickedly, but more arrivals were crowding up behind, and Lily took his arm and steered him away. Her parents followed, frowning dubiously at the tall man. Lily figured it was a tossup whether the frown was caused by the ponytail, the short beard or the dark skin color. She hoped they weren't about to terminally embarrass her.
"Err, Eldon, my parents, Madeline and Harold Bryant."
Eldon reached out to shake her Dad's hand. "Eldon Brown. A pleasure to meet you." He shook hands with her mother, too.
"Have you known Lily long?" Her mother was looking a bit intimidated, looking up.
"No, we just met a few weeks ago. Fear not, I am not the Man of Her Dreams."
Her mother blushed. "I didn't mean . . . "
Eldon just grinned. "I understand from some of my older friends that seeing what their daughters bring home are the most frightening experiences in existence. Then they look at me and shudder. And say things like 'thank god you're a courtesy uncle' and such."
Her dad cleared his throat. "Indeed. Come along dear, I think I need a drink."
Lily eyed Eldon.
"You handled them very cleverly. I'm afraid to ask how you got an invitation!"
"Oh, I just stuck myself on the list when I saw your name on it. I figured I needed an excuse, see?"
"To come to the party?"
"No, to see you again. Especially since it sounded like you were living somewhere else most of the time. I couldn't just ride a horse up to the front door and ask for you."
"So, you do voice imitations and ride horses?" A weedy old man was looking Eldon over. "Do you know any martial arts?"
"In general. I haven't stuck to any one style. And I sword fight. On foot or horseback."
The man nodded. "We need some extras, size large, black, arab or mixed race, for martial arts scenes."
Lily had been around Jack enough to translate that now. "Movies. They need bad guys to beat up in a fancy brawl."
"You're dark enough to pass, even if the hair looks odd." The weedy old man pulled out a small rectangle of stiff paper, and scribbled on it. Signed. "Lot fifteen, Gate B. Tomorrow at noon. The gate guard will tell you where to go." He moved off then, and Lily retreated as agents closed in.
Eldon looked at the card. Some sort of formal name card, with address and four phone numbers. Personalized, apparently to act like a ticket to someplace. What is lot 15, gate B? "Jacob Prentice?"
"Yes. He's a very successful producer, not that you don't know that already. You played him perfectly." The speaker had shark-like teeth, or maybe it was just the underlying personality.
Lilly winced at the predatory attention focused on the poor man. Well, not all of them looked carnivorous. One fellow was downright bright and chirpy. He looked naïve, instead of desperate. Eldon took all the cards that were being thrust at him; Lilly saw him pocket that one separately. "Eldon Brown. I'll call you if anything comes of this."
Well, acting was probably as good a way for an inter-dimensional agent to earn local money as anything else. Was he really selling used Mercedes? She thought about her fenders and nodded to herself. No doubt the cars were being sold after he'd fixed them.
After the main rush of arriving guests had passed, Margo sought her out. "You've just got a couple of weeks of classes left, don't you?"
"Yep. Then I'll be looking for a summer job." Maybe Eldon needs a sales woman?
"Excellent! We're going out on site to shoot all the exteriors. Jack's the lowly assistant to the Professor, when the Hong Kong Kingpin makes arrangements with the locals to run them off the site. I get to be the Older Professor's snotty daughter, and make a couple of rude comments. Anyway, I was wondering if I could hire you. It's . . . there are a lot of assumptions about actresses' morals, not to mention back stabbing because Jack's career is shooting up so fast. It would prevent a whole lot of problems if I just never happened to be walking around alone. See?"
"Wow, all the other actors hit on you?"
"About half of them. Starting with Mr. Superstar himself, G. Gordon Lamar. Honestly! G. was a hunk thirty years ago, and I think he's having a midlife crisis. At least he takes no for an answer. Now Phillip Magnum, he's the bad guy in the story, and I swear he's trying to live down to the role."
"They're filming out in the desert?"
"Nope, on the beach. Pretending it's an archeological site in Africa."
"Ooo. Is there a lost city and all that?"
"But of course. How could we have an action adventure centered around archeology without one?"
"And who are the bad guys?"
"We've got two sets. The Hong Kong Gang uses the area to stage drug smuggling, and wants us gone. The native Berber tribes fear the spirits of the Old Ones will rise if we dig up their bones, except for the one group of natives that have a hidden motive – they are the Old Ones."
"That ought to be fun. But I have a nasty suspicion the archeologists walk away with nothing but a tall tale."
"Of course. We'll be filming a bit south of San Onofre and pretending it's Morocco."
"Did you say something about wanting to hire me to hang around with you on a beach?"
"Yep. Do you remember Frankie Delong? He's playing the head 'Old One' and also the head of the local village, the sole descendants of long lost Atlantis. When he's all dolled up, he looks a bit like your friend Eldon, but with dark hair and a bit of added slime." She raised up on tip toes, and surveyed the room. "I don't see him. Jacob is going to be pissed if he misses another rehearsal. Jack was hoping he'd show up, sober and contrite, and ready to start."
"And . . . he's being a problem?"
"He's trying. So I need someone to pal around with so nothing happens that could have adverse career affects."
"Like slapping him. Or Jack punching him. Gottcha. This is your big break too, isn't it?"
"Yeah, and I don't want anything to ruin it. And it's so interesting, seeing it come together scene by scene. There are some killer firelight dance and fight scenes. And they've already shot the interior opening sequences, where he's being very Westernized and looks very mixed race."
"In other words, Atlantis?"
"Yep. The archeologists are digging up these ruins that are in an area of recent uplift, after an earthquake, so they're exposed for the first time since the end of the ice age, when the sea level rose and covered them all."
"So, where did these Atlantians come from?"
"Oh, they retreated inland and skulked about for ten thousand years. They might have had something to d
o with Carthage, you know, the place the Romans flattened? And Minoan before that, and possibly something to do with the first Egyptian Pharaohs. They cover all the bases." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, in the end there's another earthquake and it all sinks again."
"That's tidy."
"Yeah, that's the problem with pretending it's all happening in the real world. They have to get rid of the cool stuff at the end. Personally I think they should have a sequel. But as Jack has such a small role . . . maybe 'the Young Archeologist' could do it on his own."
Lily wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to be a wet towel, but do you really want Jack to be a Super Star?"
Margo's lips tucked in wryly. "I know what you mean. But in Hollywood it seems to be skyrocket or sink."
Lily nodded. "But that's when their marriages go to pot." She spotted Eldon chatting with a pair of women, and tromped hard on a spike of jealousy. He's just a friend. Or maybe a very odd acquaintance. Don't even think about falling for the multi-dimensional explorer.
"He's unusual, and very unlike your usual dates. Where'd you find him?"
"Umm, the boring version is, he fixed my car. The medium version is, he snuck up and fixed Sindara's car without being seen. The full blown weird version is, he popped out of Nowhere. He says he's not a Space Alien."
Margo snickered. "I see. A car repairman with a Sci Fi pickup line. Cool."
Lily blushed. "You'll have to give me a report from his audition. I haven't a clue whether he can act or not."
Chapter Four
A new job, and a quick promotion
As the new boy on the set, Eldon caught a lot of cold looks. But he was just doing it for the fun of it, so he tamped down the glow – it wouldn't come through the electronic recording anyway. They were rehearsing a choreographed dance that turned into a fight, today. Since he hadn't been to any of the dance practices, Eldon was handed a spear and stood up in a corner. Two run throughs of the dance were deemed satisfactory. Then the tidy scene was supposed to all fall apart as a small confrontation turned into a brawl . . .
