in warehouses all over the city meant something big was on the cards, something well beyond even the organized gang crime that Rad had been investigating. Something calamitous. Jennifer knew much more than she had let on, but had left without so much as a goodbye. As Rad slinked back to his office he hoped she knew what she was doing.
The chair creaked as Rad shifted his weight. The Fissure was gone and the city was freezing, getting colder every day, but that didnât stop Rad watching the reflections in his office. Reflections â mirrors â were one way the Empire State and New York were connected, at least if you knew the trick. And Rad knew that even with Carson gone on his side, there would be people working on it on the other. The problem of the Fissure would be affecting New York, Rad knew that â New York was the Origin, the template, and it led to a whole wide world, a universe beyond. The Empire State was the Pocket, an imperfect duplicate of New York, reflected through a hole in space-time thanks to the fight between the Science Pirate and the Skyguard, the two former protectors of New York.
But the Fissure did more than connect the cities; it tied them together. One could not exist without the other anymore. Which meant if the Fissure was gone and the Empire State was freezing up, then Rad knew New York would be in trouble too. He only hoped that Captain Nimrod, Carsonâs âoriginalâ, hadnât taken a little walk as well. Nimrod had a whole damn government department dedicated to the Fissure. Nimrod was working on it, Rad knew that. He had to be.
Which is why Rad sat in front of the window in his office most nights. Watching and waiting. The mirror-like quality of the window at night would let Nimrod see into the Empire State. And with Carson gone, Rad was one of the few people left in the Pocket dimension who had any clue how the world worked, so it would make sense for Nimrod to get in touch with him first.
So the theory went.
Rad sat in front of the window and the grandfather clock ticked time away in the corner, and he sipped his coffee and flexed the fingers of his sore hand. After a while Rad turned around on his chair to look at the item on the desk.
It was the small rod, the one heâd pocketed. It looked a little like a fuse, and Rad thought that maybe it had fallen out of Cliffâs head, loosened by Radâs punch, the reason the robot had gone over so easily. Heâd meant to ask Jennifer about it but heâd clean forgotten. He could show it to her next time they met, if there was going to be a next time.
He rolled the little cylinder on the desk, picked it up and looked at it closely, like he would suddenly recognize it for what it was. He put it back on the desk.
âHuh,â said Rad to himself. âThe age atomic.â
Â
Rad jerked his head up at the sound. It was still night outside, and Rad could see himself reflected in the window. The office behind him was still and empty.
The phone was ringing. Rad blinked, then spun around on his chair and grabbed at the stem, pushing the earpiece against the side of his head.
At last, the call.
âNimrod?â he said. He squinted into the emptiness of his office, like that would improve his hearing.
âI think you have something of mine,â said the voice on the other end of the line.
The line was crystal clear and the voice was loud, and more important it didnât belong to Nimrod, didnât have that strange clipped accent he shared with Carson and which Rad had learned was âBritish.â The voice on the phone was a local call.
âWho is this?â
The man on the end of the phone clicked his tongue. It echoed strangely, although Rad wasnât sure if that was the phone or⦠something else. Maybe a gas mask worn by someone from New York acclimatizing to the Empire Stateâs different environment. There was something else too, in the background. Music.