Chapter 8

Dean Lifante

8:00 PM

Dean stared at the blonde woman. His murder victim was sitting in a blue LVPD sweatshirt and pants, drinking coffee with two hands. She called herself Barbie and matched the ID from the crime scene.

"Ahh! This is delicious." She smacked her lips. "After the destruction of the coffee plant in twenty-three thirty-seven from the blight, all we had to drink was the fake version prepackaged in the New York factory slums." She opened her eyes wide and stuck her hand on her mouth. "Oops. My Handler told me I shouldn't reveal too much about the future. Butterflies, you know. I wouldn't want anybody to become a dictator."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Dean said, narrowing his eyes. "Three hundred years is a long way away."

"That's right. Thank you, Detective. You're so helpful." Barbie giggled and looked at her fingers. "You'd think I wouldn't be cold as a ghost, but I was. My nanites took in as much heat as possible to keep me in that state, but thanks to the Maker reenergizing my body, I have another twenty-four-hour window." She wrapped her fingers around the cup. "This is perfect for warming them up."

Dean just nodded. After the initial shock wore off, he just watched her. So did Ming. "She looks like the woman they said they found in the Shujing," he whispered, "but that's impossible. Her throat was slit. We have the knife."

Bobby was passed out on the couch. Barbie had tried to wake him, but after doing something with his computer and muttering about it not rewriting his brain, he just mumbled that the Zombies could eat him later and flipped over.

"Why is the Maker like this? I know he's still recovering from the viral infection that this Slazney gave him, but I need him to finish the code so I can get home. I'd do it myself, but I promised my Handler I wouldn't touch the code unless I had to. Just setting the counter virus was risky enough. The last time I coded on my own, I set off a volcano." She looked sheepish.

"I see." Ming nodded. There was no way she would believe that. "Where is this home?" Ming said, opening her notebook to a new page.

"Ming Na Liu, is it?" Barbie asked.

Ming nodded.

Dean moved to the corner and unplugged his recorder from the wall socket. The power was full, and he needed a better vantage point to continue recording. Whatever she was saying was crazy, and he needed to stay as far away as possible, but without a record of this, there was no way Zacoski would believe anything. Hell, he had a hard time believing it. He was taking a lot on faith here. If he didn't owe Ming his life, he'd have locked everybody up and gone home.

"Home is Greater Vegas. After the death of the Strip and the inundation of San Angelus, Greater Vegas became the capital of the Western States," Barbie said. "Of course, that won't happen for another two hundred years or so." She took another sip of her coffee and sighed in pleasure.

"Of course," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Ming shushed him. "And this code? Bobby said it controls time and space. Is that true?" Ming asked.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. There was no way she would believe that story, and the skepticism in her voice agreed with him. She was always the most rational of the two.

Barbie smiled and closed her eyes. "It's beauty in motion. With it, a person can control nature, travel anywhere, recreating reality to fit their desire, within limits, of course. The cost is quite high, but its perfection allowed man to colonize the stars, bypassing the inherent limits in nature. In the wrong hands, it could wipe out all of humanity, but you could say the same about the bombs in this era. That's why the code is strictly controlled. Only licensed users are allowed to manipulate it. If they tried to alter too much, the consequences would be a big pile of doo-doo."

"What are the consequences?" Dean asked. "You also said there was a cost."

"Well, it's hard to form new memories, but that's just a side effect. The highest cost was the ocean. We're still recovering from that one."

"The ocean?"

"Un-huh. A missed subroutine in the code to clear San Angelous sent half the world's water to Mars and fried three dozen cloned coders. The Maker shut most of the independent factories down after that."

Dean blinked and glanced at Ming.

"I remember seeing it in the window as well," Ming said. "Do you have to kill me?" she joked.

"No. You only got a small dose of the activated code. Besides, your brain doesn't work as well as the Maker's." Barbie took another sip of coffee and pursed her lips, "He understands it on instinct. You'd need to train yourself for years to match his true level." She pointed at Bobby, "This Maker here is still a novice, and he's made too many mistakes. Even now, he's still not fully open. If only he'd have let me remove the blocks. I still think I'll need to take him with me before real damage is done."

"Your story is very cute, but how do you expect us to believe a word you're saying?" Dean asked, standing up and moving to the window. "The time travel thing is a bit too science fiction." He turned around and narrowed his eyes at Ming, gesturing with his head to get away from the crazy girl.

Ming glared at him, pointed her finger, and slowly brought it and her thumb together. Dean knew when to shut up if he wanted to keep his insides on the inside and not decorating the floor. Whenever she found a story, it was like an addict lost in front of a slot machine with a mountain of quarters. For Ming, he was willing to humour the strange blond.

Barbie stared at him, cocking her head to the side.

Dean stared back, meeting her eyes with his glare. She was beautiful, in a Hollywood AI dream kind of way, but like those dreams, Dean couldn't quite explain what was wrong with it.

The problem was all of his instincts were telling him she was on the level, but that couldn't be possible. Time travel? Coming back from the dead? This was pulp fiction stuff.

"While we're waiting for the Maker to wake up, do you two want to have sex?" Barbie asked Dean and Ming. "I can join you? I've never had a threesome with a Macho Man and a MILF before." She tilted her head and smiled.

Dean gulped his coffee, spilling some of it on his tie.

A pencil snapped to his right.

"What's wrong?" Barbie asked. "Oh, is this some sort of taboo? Sorry. I studied up on all the twenty-first-century customs and learned all the lingo to blend in better if I had to, but I guess I missed some. I didn't mean to step in on your courtship. You want each other, don't you? Or am I misreading the signs? You've been gazing at each other all night, and when I watched you sleep for those few hours last night, you said his name, so I just assumed." Her face turned red. "Psychology was never my strong suit."

Dean coughed and got a towel to clean up the coffee and hide his red face. He was excited to hear that Ming was dreaming about him, but a relationship was something he wasn't ready for, yet. He snuck a glance at her, but she was being too professional and ignoring him for his instincts to get a good read on her. Dean narrowed his eyes. That usually meant a person was hiding something. How did Ming feel about him?

"You mentioned a Slazney," Ming said, changing the subject, "Could you tell me more? How long have you known about him?" Ming asked, writing notes in her book.

Dean let out a sigh of relief mixed with a small pang of regret filling his gut.

Barbie put her hands on her chin and made a pouty face. "I'd say about three years, give or take several hundred. I didn't know his name, but based on what I heard the old Asian man say, he was probably the guy my people were looking for. He's been in this time for about thirty of your years, causing mischief. I think he arrived after some buggy guy started Vegas."

"You're talking about Bugsy Siegel. The mobster died in 1947. Has Slazney been here since then?" Ming raised an eyebrow. Her pencil flew across the page.

Dean shook his head and scoffed.

"I'm not sure. My Handler didn't tell me," Barbie said. "Why are you so angry?" she asked, but Ming didn't answer Barbie. Shrugging her shoulders, Barbie continued. "Anyway. I believe Slazney was the thief of the Maker's will. We think he stole the computer code that would allow someone to reshape reality, along with travelling in time, but it fractured. We've recorded instances of him throughout the timeline of unstable jumps, and that really messes up nature. When that happens, nature gets all prissy."

"How so?" Dean asked.

"Slazney uses it to inhabit recently deceased bodies. That's the only way time travel works for most people. We don't know exactly when or who he jumped into, but we have to stop him, or you might get an apocalypse. That's why I'm here. It's too early to activate the Maker, yet."

"You mean your body is dead?" Dean asked, drawing back.

"Of course," Barbie said. "Sort of. I'm special. My handler says I can reassemble any dead body from a small scrap, shaping it any which way I want." She pointed to herself. "I picked it up a few days ago from a plot of land in the desert and repaired the necrotic tissue. She'd been chopped into pieces, and I had to reconstruct some of the bones. It should hold together for a few weeks or so." She held out her hand. "Sorry, I don't know who killed her."

Dean mumbled under his breath as he flipped through his notebook. "That explains the UNLV connection."

"Why are you here?" Ming asked. Her pencil was moving fast across the page.

"We're trying to save the world from the end of days. You saw it, didn't you?" Barbie asked Ming.

"Why are you rolling your eyes, Miss Reporter? I'm speaking the truth." Barbie frowned and pursed her lips. "The Maker's the only one who can do that, but he's not ready yet. Untrained, he'll destroy the world as easily as he would save it. Once he completes the formula to get me home, that is. I can't stay here, but maybe he'll come with me. This place has no TacoBucks, and he'd love it." She nocked her head back and drained the cup, holding it with both hands. "Can I have another one?"

Dean put down his coffee and leaned on the table, while Ming poured Barbie another cup. He held up the UNLV student ID he'd downloaded, comparing it to Barbie's face to make sure and shook his head. "The picture's grainy, and she's not a blond. I can see the resemblance, though. What do you think? Are you buying this story, 'cause I'm not."

"This is far out there. Are you sure this is the dead woman?" Ming asked.

"Yes. She matches all the records we have on her. I'd have to ask Jeremy to confirm, but I think he's still in the psych ward." He turned to the woman. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe you're a time traveller. I'm going to keep you here until you can get a mental evaluation."

"That's fine. I thought you'd mistrust me," she took another sip and sighed. "I don't mean you any harm. I may need your help."

"Our help?" Dean asked. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think you'll believe anything I say at this point. Maybe you'll believe him," Barbie said, pointing to the door. "I saw him sneaking outside when I was getting my body back."

Suddenly, the lights in the precinct shut off. "There's no storm tonight," said Dean. "Someone could be here."

Ming and Dean exchanged a weary glance. Ming grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight. Dean pulled out his gun and kicked the sofa where Bobby was sleeping. Dean was alone, and another presence could help.

Bobby snorted and fell off, smacking his ass on the ground. "What the hell was that for? The zombies were finally gone?" he said, rubbing his eyes.

The front door to the conference room opened, and Ming shone the flashlight on a tall man, built like a mountain. He dominated the doorway and glared into the light.

"Ivan!" Bobby yelled as he shrank back and fell over, crab-walking on the floor.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!" Dean shouted, raising his gun at the big man. "This is the guy you were talking about?" he asked Bobby, not taking his eyes off Ivan. He wasn't expecting someone so overpowering. He filled out every Russian stereotype imaginable.

Ivan ignored Dean and went straight for Bobby. He ducked under the big man's hand and crawled under the table.

"Shoot him!" Bobby yelled.

"I said don't move!" Dean repeated.

Ivan tossed a chair at Dean, knocking his gun across the room and under a cabinet. Dean grunted and picked himself up. Bobby was moving across the room. It sounded like a cockroach skittering under there.

Ming scrambled over to Barbie and took her out of the room.

"Why won't you shoot him?" Bobby yelled from under the table,

Dean grabbed a chair leg, jumped on Ivan's back and started pummeling him with the piece of wood. It was like hitting a rock.

Ivan reached behind and tossed Dean into the corner. He gasped for air as he struggled to his feet.

Ivan grabbed Bobby by the throat, choking him. Bobby hit the giant's arm with his fist. Dean rushed in and gave a kidney shot, but Ivan didn't even grunt.

"Are you starting to hum?" Dean shouted.

Bobby's eyes went wide, and he began hitting Ivan harder, making shooting signs with his other hand.

Dean reached for his second gun around his ankle, but Ivan put his slab of a hand over Dean's and yanked it away. Grabbing him by the back of the neck, Ivan hoisted the two men into the air.

"How in the fuck are you doing this?" Dean shouted.

Bobby's face turned purple.

Holding the two of them in the air, Ivan spun around on one foot. Dean's legs swung out behind him as Ivan let go of Bobby first, then Dean.

Bobby went flying through the office window and landed on a table. Dean followed him on top, collapsing the furniture. The tall mountain stepped through the window and landed next to the broken table.

"Why won't he say anything?" Dean yelled as he stood up. Adrenaline pushing the pain away for later. "It's unnerving. All he's doing is humming."

"He cut out his tongue years ago," Bobby yelled. "We have to stop him from humming!"

"What? Why?"

"You can't let him finish his song," Bobby said, dodging Ivan's kick. "He gets to the end, we're dead." He was bleeding all over his Crue shirt, and his eye was turning a dark purple.

Barbie appeared in front of the giant man and put her hands on her hips. "This shouldn't be happening now." She pointed her finger in Ivan's face, "You leave the Maker alone!" she said, stomping her foot on the ground. Ivan just continued his humming and slapped her in the face.

"No! I need her!" Ming yelled and dropped her pencil.

Making pouty lips, Barbie grabbed the big man's hand as it came back and flipped him in the air. He landed on another desk and shattered it. Splinters flew everywhere. "I told you to stop it!" She walked over to him and, using two hands, grabbed one arm, raised him high in the air and smashed him back into the concrete floor. Ivan let out a wordless grunt and collapsed. Letting go of his arm, she wiped her hands together and stood over Bobby. Steam rose from the big man, ramping up the temperature by ten degrees.

"Can you finish the rest of the code now, or are you going to continue to pretend to sleep, Maker?" Barbie asked, tapping her foot on the ground.

Dean stared at the young woman. "How in the hell did you do that?" He looked at Ivan. The big man was stunned, his eyes staring at nothing and beginning to gloss over. Dean turned to Barbie. She was tapping her foot and had her arms crossed.

"When did she get a pink sweatshirt?" Dean closed his eyes and lay his head on the ground. Could this day get any weirder?