Destroyer

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning RJ calls Iffy and says he has a few things he’d like to try out and will be here in the evening. My impatience for his return makes the day drag on forever. It doesn’t help that he still hasn’t arrived when the sun begins to set.

Iffy and Ellie are on the couch watching some kind of drama on the television. I try to follow along, but my attention is on the breezeway outside our front door as I wait for the sound of footsteps and the first hint of a knock.

“Maybe you should call him,” I say to Iffy. “What if something happened?”

Without taking her eyes off the screen, she says, “He’ll be here when he gets here.”

“You said early evening. It’s not early anymore.”

“Would you two be quiet?” Ellie says. “I can’t hear.”

Iffy whispers, “I never said ‘early.’”

I take a breath and then try to concentrate on the television, but the images are making no more sense to me now than they were a few moments earlier, so I push off the couch and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Iffy asks.

“For a walk.” I grab my phone off the dining table. “If I’m not back before he gets here, call me.”

“Shhh!” Ellie says.

Stepping out of the apartment, I look around, hoping I’ll see RJ walking toward our door, but there’s no one else there. I head over to the stairs and down to ground level, then walk out to the street.

The western sky holds only a hint of deep orange as it fights its losing battle against the coming night. I scan the street, once more looking for RJ and once more not seeing him. Disappointed and anxious, I head west toward the beach.

While there are still a few open spaces here and there along the curb, most of the spots have been claimed for the night. If RJ doesn’t arrive soon, he’ll be forced to park several blocks away.

I pick up my pace and tell myself not to think about RJ or why he’s running late or where he’ll park his car. To give my mind something else to do, I focus on the vehicles I’m passing and attempt to determine the make and model of each just from sight. This is one of the subjects I’ve been recently studying. Cars, I have found, are very important to the people here in San Diego. So, gaining more understanding of the automobile culture will, I hope, help in my continuing quest to understand this world. Unfortunately, I’m still very bad at the identification game, and at best succeed in recognizing only one or two cars out of every ten.

I’ve made it down four of the six blocks that separate my apartment from the beach when Iffy calls to let me know RJ has arrived.

“I’ll be right there,” I tell her as I whip around and start jogging back the way I came.

When I’m only half a block from our place, movement in a parked car just ahead catches my eye. At first I think I must have been mistaken, but as I near, I notice that a man is in the driver’s seat, and am thinking he probably created the movement I saw. I assume he’s getting ready to start his car and leave, but my caution makes me take a longer look at the driver as I go by. Unfortunately, it’s too dark to see anything more than his shadowy form, but since he doesn’t jump out and try to grab me, I assume he’s not a threat and hurry on to my building.

When I enter the apartment, the others are gathered in the dining area. Two hard-sided suitcases sit on the table — one large and one small, like a fat briefcase. RJ has the larger one open and is pulling out wires and small metal boxes.

When he sees me, he says, “Where’s the chasing machine?”

“Not a chasing machine, a chaser,” I say.

“Chaser, right. You have it?”

I head into my bedroom.

The combination I use for the safe is the date I was accepted into the Upjohn Institute. It’s one I’ll never forget. While I was in training, I thought that day had changed everything for the good. I’m not so sure about good or even bad, but I do know it did change everything, and not only for me, but for everyone.

The chaser sits in a cloth-lined cubbyhole at the top of the safe. In the large section below it are the stacks of cash we took from Munoz. I grab the device, shut the safe, and return to the others.

The thick briefcase is now also open, but instead of containing more bits and pieces of electronics, it holds tools. There are movable dividers, with slots on each side filled with screwdrivers and wrenches and the like. There are also several electronic devices with meters on the front. One of the devices is sitting on the table next to the items RJ had removed from the other case.

“Ah, great.” RJ extends his hands toward me. “May I?”

I touch the spot that unlocks the lid and then give him the device. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry.”

Like he did at our first meeting, he examines every inch of it. When he is through, he sets it down and picks up the black box with the meter on it. There are two wires leading out of it, each ending in a metal tip.

When he starts to move the tips toward the power socket on the chaser, I say, “That’s not going to hurt anything, is it?”

“This? No. It only receives. Doesn’t emit anything.”

Iffy slips her hand into mine and gives me a squeeze. Her message is loud and clear. We asked for RJ’s help, and we should let him do what he needs to do.

For the next several minutes, we watch him take measurements with the meter and write things down in a black-covered notebook. When he finally finishes, he picks up a two-inch-square, clear plastic pouch that is sitting next to the pile of wires. Inside are several small metal items. He opens the top of the pouch and pours the pieces into his hand.

“If I’d had some modeling clay with me last time, I would have taken an impression,” he tells us. “But since I didn’t, I had to make some guesses.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about until he takes one of the metal pieces and tries to fit it into the chaser’s power socket. He eventually works his way through each piece and then drops all but one back into the bag. He holds up the remaining piece for us to see.

“It’s not perfect and I’m not sure if it’s going to work, but it’s in the right ballpark,” he says.

He demonstrates by placing the selected connector into the socket. It fits well enough, but does appear to be a bit loose.

“Shall we give it a go?” he asks me.

“I don’t know. You’re the expert.”

He laughs. “That was rhetorical. Of course, we’re going to try it.” He sorts through the wires and picks one out. “This is going to take a few minutes. Any chance I can get a Coke or something?”

“I’ll get it,” Ellie says.

In my concern for getting the chaser powered up, I forgot that my sister is also here. The brightness in her voice surprises me, and I’m equally taken aback by the way she seems to almost drift into the kitchen. When she returns a few minutes later, she’s holding a soft drink can.

With a smile that seems almost hopeful, she holds the can out to RJ and says, “We only have 7-Up. Is that okay?”

“Better than nothing,” he says, taking it from her with only a quick glance.

It takes me a moment before I realize what’s going on. My fourteen-year-old sister is infatuated by Iffy’s nineteen-year-old friend. I don’t even know how to react to this. Should I be the disinterested brother or the overprotective parent?

RJ seems to barely even notice her, which is a relief and yet somehow annoying. Yes, she is way too young for him, but doesn’t he find her attractive? She has always looked older than her age, and though my opinion might be biased, I think few would disagree that she’s beautiful.

In a moment of clarity, I mentally slap myself. What am I thinking? She’s my sister. I’m glad RJ isn’t paying her attention.

I consider suggesting that she should go lie down for a bit, but I’m pretty sure she’ll just ignore me. I decide to let her have her little fantasy. As long as it stays only in her head, where’s the harm?

I force myself to focus back on what RJ is doing.

Using some melted metal — soldering, he calls it — he attaches one end of the wire to the special connector, and does the same with a different type of connector to the other end. This then is all hooked into a box about the same size as a small tin of mints, with a dial on top.

As he grabs the end of the wire with the connector that fits into the chaser, he says, “Do you know what the power level is at right now?”

I turn on the chaser’s display screen and point to the spot where the number is shown. “Forty-six point seven three percent.”

“Okay, moment of truth.”

He slots the connector into the chaser and looks at the display.

“Is that it?” I ask.

“We’ll know soon enough.”

All four of us stare at the battery level number. For nearly a minute nothing happens, then the number suddenly jumps to 47.19.

“It works!” Iffy says.

I’m numb and relieved and excited all at once.

RJ, on the other hand, looks annoyed. He keeps his gaze on the power number until it changes again, this time to 47.51, and then turns on the screen of the rectangular device at the other end of the wire chain.

Whatever he sees there increases the depth of his frown.

“You did it,” I say. “It’s working. The level’s going up.”

“Give me a moment.”

He turns the dial on the small box between the two wires, and looks back at the chaser’s display. The power number stays at 47.51 for a few more moments and then changes to 47.83. He stares at it until it changes a half minute later to 48.07.

He turns the dial again and once more watches the display. The number increases in a similar pattern to what it’s been doing to this point. Another turn of the dial doesn’t seem to change anything, including RJ’s frown.

“What’s wrong?” Iffy asks.

He unplugs the wire from the chaser. “It’s the connector. I just don’t have it right.”

“But it’s charging,” I counter.

“Yeah, but it should be doing it a lot faster. I started with a low power input, but even when I pushed it to the highest my rig can handle, it didn’t make a difference. The loose connector is making it take forever.” He picks up the rectangular device at the other end of the wire and then scoffs. “And then there’s the fact that the one and a third percent increase ate up nearly three times that from my power source. We’d have to recharge this battery again at least once just to get your chasing machine up to one hundred percent. Not very efficient.”

“But we can charge it.”

“I can do better,” he says. “This time I brought clay. I’ll make an imprint and build a better connector. Might be a couple days before I’m ready to come back.”

He disconnects everything and starts putting it all back in the suitcase.

“Hold on,” I say. “Can’t we use that in the meantime?”

“This is just a prototype. I’ll make the real thing sturdier and easier to carry around.” He thinks for a moment and then shrugs. “But you’re paying the bills, and if you want to use this until then, have at it.”

He pulls out the items that make up the prototype device and reconnects them. When he’s done he picks up the rectangular battery.

“Two ways of charging this. You can plug it into the wall with this.” He hunts around in the large suitcase and pulls out an adapter. “But I was also thinking you might find yourself someplace where conventional power’s not available. You know, when you…” He pauses and shoots a glance at Ellie, then points behind his back a few times.

It takes Iffy and me a moment to realize he means travel into the past.

“RJ, she’s Denny’s sister,” Iffy says. “His older sister. So she’s clued in on the time travel thing.”

He looks at Ellie and then at me and then back at Ellie. “How old are you?”

She looks reluctant to tell him, but finally whispers, “Fourteen.”

He turns to me. “And you?”

“Nineteen.”

He looks between us again before focusing back on me. “She’s your older sister?”

I nod. “By two years.”

“That’s messed up, man.”

He doesn’t know the half of it. “You were saying there’s another way to charge the battery?”

“Right. Uh, so this side”—he turns the battery over so we are looking at the side opposite the display screen—“is covered with small solar cells. Just set it in direct sunlight, and it’ll charge up. Not nearly as fast as plugging it in will, but when you don’t have that option, it’ll do the job for you.”

“This is genius,” I say, meaning it.

A way to charge a chaser via the sun? It’s a wonder someone at the institute hadn’t thought of that. Of course, I hadn’t even heard of solar power until I came here. While some form of that technology might have existed in my world, I never saw evidence of it at the institute, and it certainly never trickled down to us in caste Eight.

“Thanks,” RJ says, a sheepish smile on his lips. He hands me the charger. “Be careful. It’s just thrown together and not built to last.”

He puts the rest of his stuff away and takes an impression of the chaser’s power socket with a small bit of clay from his tool kit.

“I’ll let you know when I have it ready,” he says and heads for the door.

“Good-bye. Nice meeting you,” Ellie says.

RJ pauses long enough to turn and say, “Yeah. Same.” And then leaves.

Both Iffy and I turn and look at my sister, our eyebrows raised.

Her expression all innocent, Ellie says, “What?”