Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology (7 page)

There was a short, thunderous burst of static, and then silence.

************

"What was that?" Brownbarr shouted, cutting off his call in mid-sentence.

Rolvo, still hunched over the monitor, pressed a button repeatedly and was rewarded with a beep. “DENIED” blinked red on the screen. "We've lost communications with Vullahman's comm. Someone likely shut it off."

"We've got to move out, then. We may be discovered." Brownbarr stood. "Comm, call all active ASP operatives."

"Calling."

"We are on red alert. All operatives, head for the aircraft hangar. We debark in twenty minutes. Pilots, the coordinates are on the mainframe. Repeat, this is a red alert situation. All active operatives must leave in the next twenty minutes. End call."

"Call ended."

Brownbarr strode out the door. "Keep me updated via comm, Rolvo," he called over his shoulder. "I'm heading out."

Mothinghotch stood in the doorway. "But sir—"

"Say a word, Mothinghotch, and I'll have you demoted to janitor. I'm going on this mission. Stay here with Rolvo and try not to mess anything up."

Mothinghotch paled, moving out of Brownbarr's way. "Y-yes sir."

Brownbarr straightened the collar of his tux and walked into the hall. The ASP had a mission to accomplish and an agent to rescue.

Showtime.

************

Will waited a few moments, but the voice was apparently gone. One way or another, his message had been cut off.

Paul had told the truth, apparently. The message from the sky had verified it: Will was trapped in the Reality Ring. Did that mean that Paul really was Will's grandpa, or did he only tell the truth when it suited him?

Either way, Will had to find a way to escape, at least to get out of the Reality Ring and come back for Paul later.

"Any advice on how I could get out of here?" Will asked. He gazed out over the grasses and plucked a long stem. He chewed on the edge of it thoughtfully. It tasted fresh and green, sort of like cauliflower or celery, but pervading it was a strange, metallic sensation. But now he could name the strange feeling: it was the realization that all of it was fake. The time had come to tell whether or not this grandfather of his was a fake too.

Paul shifted. Will could tell that he had heard and understood the implicit question:
Why should I believe you're my grandpa?

"Will," he said, "It isn't so bad here. Not really. You never get hungry. Or thirsty. Sometimes the ring forcibly takes you somewhere else, but it's not a bad life."

"A place where you don't hunger for anything must be a sorry place indeed." Will began to pace. Think, Vullerman, think! How could he figure out how to leave this place?

He felt suddenly sick. His vision wobbled, and his foot slipped, throwing him to the ground.

But instead of grass tickling his face, he felt warm stone.

He sat up. Nausea welled up in his stomach again, but he breathed deeply until it receded. He smelled grass, but he also smelled smoke, and a little whiff of exhaust fumes.

Just to his right was an ancient stone doorway, arching a full six meters above the ground. He peered out to his left and saw green, rolling hills, dark with trees in places, and a sleepy-looking town. Somewhere in western Europe, for sure. Britain, was it?

Will looked up to see a massive and yellowed stone tower framed by a clear blue sky.

The church ruins on Glastonbury Tor, unless he was mistaken. Yet another memory. A couple of British mystics had been terrorizing citizens in the hamlet of Glastonbury last time he was here.

"Beautiful view, isn't it, Will?" Paul was already standing above Will. He extended a hand. Will took it, and Paul helped him to his feet. "You always feel a bit sick after crossing into another place. It'll subside, though."

Glancing out over the tastefully modern and high-tech houses of Glastonbury, Will had an idea. But before he could put it into motion, he had to find out for sure whether this man was his grandfather or not. He faced Paul. "So what were you saying?"

Paul shrugged. "Going from place to place isn't that bad once you get used to it. And..." His voice mellowed, just like it used to when he said something that meant a lot to him. "You'd be with me."

Will's heart ached as memories flooded him. Christmas day, ham on the dinner table...a sunny Easter afternoon...fishing with Grandpa at his side...

The wind dried the tears that came to Will's eyes and ruffled his hair. He swallowed hard and forced himself to say: "Are you who you say you are, or not?" He took his comm out of his pocket and fiddled with it. He keyed in a command.

"Will..." Paul rested a hand on Will's shoulder. "I'll always be your grandpa. Always."

"Then you know I have to leave."

"Will, please." His voice was heartrendingly low, almost pleading. "Don't leave me. I've been alone all this time, and I can't bear to lose you."

"Grandpa, I took a vow." Will stared down at his comm and pressed a button. "Do you know what you told me, the day I entered the ASP?"

Paul spoke quietly. "'You want the excitement of youth, but you must cling to the wisdom of the ages. Always remember that you become what you are, not for your own excitement or glory, but for something else. Protect the weak, uphold justice, obey the law, serve well, and always do what is right, so that you might glorify the one who created you.' That's what I said."

Will took a deep breath, staring down at his comm. "That's what I vowed. And to stay here would break my vow."

"Will—"

"Do you deny it?"

Paul sighed. "No. I would come with you, Will, just so I wouldn't be alone any more. But I can't. If I leave...I die. The—the emptiness beyond—I can't bear that. I—I don't want to die."

Will clenched his jaw and tried to look outwardly calm. There, in that moment, the imposter had betrayed himself.

Paul apparently mistook it for sympathy. "Will..."

Will pressed one last button.

An earth-shattering alarm roared from the heavens, a high-pitched drone. "Total destruction of the Reality Ring in twenty seconds," shouted a mechanical voice.

Panic flickered across Paul's face. Paul spun, half-tripping in his haste, and ran into the tower. Will growled and sprinted after him. The man pressed a stone inward, and the wall glimmered and rolled back, revealing an empty void that glowed a soft blue.

Will caught up with Paul and yanked the man's arms behind his back, pinning him. "Guess what? I've found you out."

Paul breathed hard. He bucked and tried to wriggle from Will's grasp, but Will held him fast.

"One thing my grandpa always told me," Will said, gritting his teeth, "was that there was not only a human spirit, but that the spirit was eternal. And my grandpa wouldn't have called death 'the emptiness beyond'. He was a
far
more courageous man than you. He held on to his faith even in his last week, and with his dying breath he was at peace. It hurts that my grandpa isn't really alive, but I know that he's somewhere much better than this earth. Now, you"—Will gave him a hard shake, glaring down at the likeness of his grandfather—"you're a sickening specimen of life, playing on people's emotions for your own gain. But—thank you."

"For what?" Paul spat out, his grey hair soaked in sweat and his breathing coming fast.

"For reminding me of my purpose." Will gave Paul's arm a yank to make him quit squirming. "I have a purpose beyond myself, greater than myself. When I forget that purpose, I lose who I am. And you know what my purpose is?"

Will leaned forward and whispered in the man's ear. "To protect the weak, uphold justice, obey the law, serve well, and always do what is right...so that I might glorify the one who made me. Not even a virtual reality copy of my grandpa can keep me from that. And guess what? I'm actually pretty good at hacking. Good enough to make a false alarm. And where do villains run when the world is about to come crashing down?"

Will jerked his head toward the portal Paul had opened. "The exit."

"I hate you." Paul let out a string of curses, struggling to free himself.

"Thank goodness you aren't my real grandpa," Will murmured. "He would never let a single word like that pass through his mouth."

A quick knock was all it took, and the man crumpled to the ground. Good riddance, too.

Will straightened, and walked through the glowing gateway Paul had created.

It felt like a rush of cold water had burst upon him. He gasped, and sat up.

Something slipped from his hand. There, beside him, the ring glinted on the dirt floor. He picked it up and stood, brushing himself off. He slipped the ring into his pocket and examined the room. It was some kind of a concrete building. Grey walls rose four meters on all four sides, with an open doorway in the one Will was facing. They had left the door open. Interesting. Apparently the AAA weren't expecting Will to wake up.

Will peered around the door frame into the hallway. A man stood ten meters away, in front of a wide entrance, dressed in a rumpled t-shirt and pants and holding a stun rod. But just as Will readied himself to jump the man, something knocked the sentry from behind, and he tumbled to the ground. Men flooded into the hallway. Badges glinted on neat uniforms.

ASP agents?

"Looks like you're just in time,” Will called. The agent at the end of the hall grunted, clapping handcuffs on the guard and relieving him of the stun rod.

A familiar man walked through the doorway. Large, dark sunglasses and bunched eyebrows, as usual. He took the shades off and slipped them inside his ever-present tux, squinting at Will.

"Well, if it isn't Vullerman himself.”

Will noticed a badge pinned to the left of Sunglasses's chest, shining golden even in the dim light. "So you're the Director of the ASP, are you? Does that mean I get to know your name now?"

The man laughed. "Danton, Vullerman. Danton Brownbarr. It's my first day as director, and it's shaping up to be a good one." He extended a hand to Will. "A pleasure to see you again, Vullerman. Welcome back."

Will took Brownbarr's hand and shook it. "Glad to be back. I've had a bad time of it, but I've made it through.”

“I'll say.” Brownbarr snorted. “I admit, I am surprised to find you conscious. Had we arrived a moment earlier, you doubtless would have busted the AAA headquarters single-handedly.”

“Not quite,” Will said, smiling, “but you're closer to the truth than you know. Is there still work to be done?”

Brownbarr shrugged. “We're securing the western quarter as we speak and making mass arrests.”

“Very good, sir!” Will grabbed the confiscated stun rod from a bewildered ASP agent and keyed it off, tucking it into his belt. He headed out the door, calling over his shoulder, “If you'll excuse me, sir, I have a job to do.”

THE THIRTEENTH CALL

PART ONE

Will Vullerman was halfway out the front door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Vullerman?"

He turned around. Danton Brownbarr, Director of the ASP, stood just behind him. He looked snappy, as usual, with his trademark shades and ironed tux.

Will saluted. "Director Brownbarr, sir. Do you need me for something? I was just heading out." Will glanced out the door at the sunny day.

"I'd like to speak with you in my office, Vullerman. About...private matters."

Will resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. Private matters, was it? Will had no idea what it might be that Brownbarr wanted to talk about, but whatever it was, it was probably important. The Director didn't like beating around the bush.

"Of course, sir.” Will added, silently,
And it better not be a mission
. He was finally on vacation, after weeks of work. He had completed three missions in a row. The longest one by far had been in Persia, tracking down the last members of the AAA.

Will followed Brownbarr to the Director's office. The familiar hallways of the ASP HQ ran this way and that, until they deposited Brownbarr and Will at the office door. They stepped inside, and Brownbarr shut the door behind them.

Brownbarr's office was Spartan, at best. At worst, it was bland, at least when Brownbarr wasn't in it. An electronic map with pulsing dots covered the right wall, while the neat desk sat straight in the middle of the room, with Brownbarr's leather chair on the far side and two plain brown chairs on the other. Warm yellow sunlight came through the window on the left.

“Tint,” Brownbarr ordered, and the window darkened. A soft fluorescent light blinked on. Brownbarr gestured toward the seats, and Will sat down. Hard and uncomfortable. He guessed that the Director liked to keep people alert.

"Vullerman," Brownbarr began, sitting down in his own chair, "I know it's your first day of vacation, but I'd like you to hear me out." He paused.

Will used the silence to interject his own opinion. "Unless it's signed by the Supreme President himself, I'm not going on a mission."

"I haven't said a word about a mission, Vullerman," Brownbarr snapped. "Keep silent unless spoken to, or I'll send you on another Sahara assignment...after your
vacation
."