He’d felt better at the police station, but that was because he’d been sitting still in the cell. The little jaunt from the precinct house to the Empire State Building, which was hardly any distance at all on foot, had taken it out of him. Mr Grieves had been in a hell of a hurry, and when Rad had finally had to stop, leaning against a lamppost as his almost non-existent stomach contents threatened to make an appearance, Grieves had paced back and forth, eager to keep going.
But there was something in the air at the office, too. Rad thought there hadn’t been much of a time dilation between the here and the there. Somebody had shifted some desks, and he didn’t remember the two rubber plants, but Grieves didn’t look much older. But then Rad suspected Grieves was one of those men who got to middle age and then seemed to freeze in place for thirty years. Lucky for some.
No, everyone was waiting for something. That was it. He and Jennifer were standing in the middle of the office. When they’d been led in, through a fancy lobby with couches and magazines, Grieves had paused, looked at the unoccupied furniture, and cursed before letting them through the main doors with a passcode spoken through a hatch. Rad had wondered what was so disturbing about an empty couch, but his vision was going grey at the edges and his legs were made of rubber, so the thought flitted away like music on the breeze.
“What are we waiting for?”
Rad looked up. It was Jennifer who spoke, her voice loud and clear, not a wheeze or cough. There were maybe twenty people waiting in a semicircle, most smoking, all of them looking uncomfortable. Nervous. Grieves was on the phone. Rad nodded to him. “Agent?”
Grieves held up a hand and muttered something into the mouthpiece. He hung up. “Confirmed. He’s coming down.”
Rad looked at Grieves. “Who?”
The main doors opened, splitting in the middle and swinging apart with sudden force. Everyone in the office turned at the sound, but the man paused at the threshold, wry smile on his pale features, was not looking at them. He was looking at Rad.
“Private Detective Rad Bradley,” said Captain Nimrod.
Rad stood, taking a deep asthmatic breath. He felt that little thrill somewhere, of meeting someone who was the same as a man he’d left in another universe.
“Captain Nimrod. It’s a pleasure. May I introduce Special Agent Jennifer Jones, former employee of the Empire State.”
Nimrod flicked his smile to Jennifer, who inclined her head.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said quietly, his eyes moving over her metallic features.
“I’m sure pleased to see you, Captain.” Rad huffed another breath.
Nimrod clicked his fingers at Mr Grieves. “Agent, fetch a mask. Our friend here needs some help acclimatizing.”
Rad waved his thanks and pushed his shoulders back, blowing his cheeks out as he fought for air.
“As pleased as I am to see you again, detective, I fear you come as a herald of catastrophe.”
“Uh-huh,” Rad managed.
“Any particular reason, Captain?” asked Jennifer, her hands back on her hips. “Or do you just have a flare for the dramatic like our version?”
Nimrod’s mustache bristled. “Your version of what?”
“You.”
“Ah, yes,” said Nimrod. “The remarkable Captain Carson. No, my dear, I speak the truth. I assume if Carson found a way of sending you through to here, then it is either to ask for help or to offer it. As we have had no contact with the other side for some time, I assume it is the former. But as you have arrived at a particularly precipitous moment, your presence could not be more welcome.”
Rad nodded, and looked around. Where the hell was Grieves with the mask? His eyes were about to pop and his vision spun like he’d had a belly full of moonshine. “There’s an army in the Empire State. Robots, lots of them, built to defend against an invasion from here. I was hoping you were going to tell me that was a load of baloney.”
Nimrod’s eyes narrowed. “Robots?” he asked.
Rad nodded. “Robots,” he said, and then he fell over.
Rad awoke to the smell of rubber and charcoal and he breathed deeply, savoring it. In and out, in and out, his breathing light and effortless, the crushing weight on his chest gone. He felt about ready to save the world.
Opening his eyes, he saw Jennifer’s golden mask and Nimrod’s lined pale face staring at him. Nimrod frowned, then nodded, and sat back behind his desk.
Rad