“I am frying donut holes. How do you think I am?”
“What if I said I can find the values for the space-time variables?”
Markus froze. How did she even know what he was doing? Sometimes Windee could be even scarier than Shirley.
Markus shut the fryer down.
“Let me see.”
Windee led Markus to her workstation and showed him the calculations. The issue was back-calculating the time signature of the proper continuum. But Windee had deduced that even though they were separate, they were still part of the same continuum; therefore, they could process the current space-time resonance through a transforming function and extract the discrete frequencies that made it up. In other words—the space-time variables.
Incredible.
No one else outside of Shirley could have done this. Markus could barely contain himself. “You are a genius!”
“Can I tell the captain?”
“Um … Let’s finish our work first. And then we’ll give her the surprise together!”
Windee beamed. “Sure thing, Markus.”
“But right now, shhh. Keep it a surprise, okay?”
Windee saluted and went back into the donut.
As soon as she was gone, Markus dashed not to the kitchen, but to his workstation. He placed it into secure mode and retrieved Windee’s analysis. He was so excited that he could barely enter the data. The methodology was straightforward; the assumptions were sound.
And then, just like that, Markus had exact space-time variables and, with them, a direct connection to home.
And then Markus hurled his workstation to the floor.
“You’re late,” Shirley said as she heard the familiar footsteps behind her. It was the third time this week that Markus had been late for his shift.
“I know you’re busy, but you’re going to have to try harder to be on t—” Shirley stopped.
Her brother was in an Imperial battlesuit—with a combat sidearm.
“Markus? What are you doing?”
Her brother did not respond.
“Markus!”
Shirley activated the shop’s defenses. All doors were locked, all customers were placed in stasis, and deflectors blocked the glass.
Markus pressed a button on his visor, and his form was bathed in a red light.
“Markus! Stop!” Shirley moved to intercept him, but it was too late. He reached for his weapon. With flash and a crackle, the deflectors were breached and the door lock was vaporized.
The door opened and closed.
Markus was gone.
Aunty Floresta rushed from the kitchen.
“What’s going on—was that a blaster? Where’s Markus?”
“Location unknown. He took the car, but he cloaked himself and the vehicle.”
“Do your best to trace him—and keep scanning for energy.” A standard-issue cloak would obscure normal activity, but any sort of teleportation, replication, or weapon discharge would cause a detectable surge.
“Where’s the captain?”
“Mother is having dinner with Shizuka Satomi, but I sent her a Code Red. She’s returning immediately.”
“Good. Erase the memories of all the customers and let them go. Close the store—say we’re doing inventory. Then keep scanning for any power surge.”
And please, Aunty Floresta thought, let it not be from a blaster.
* * *
Thinh Dinh and his friends were hanging out in his uncle’s furniture warehouse parking lot. His uncle didn’t mind, as long as they didn’t leave their cigarette butts, used rubbers, or broken bottles.
Later, some of them might go to Long Beach or Wilmington for the street races. For now, they were talking about whether or not the Lakers should draft another point guard.
Thinh looked up. Headlights. The engine sounded stock—a Toyota Corolla. Was this someone’s relative? Despite the headlights pointed directly at him, he could make out someone getting out of the car.
“Oh shit. It’s that donut gook.”
“What’s that shit he’s wearing?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Bringing us more donuts? I said, what the fuck—”
Before he could finish, the figure seemed to blur. Thinh felt something like a beanbag whip across his face.
“What did you call her?” a voice said calmly.
Thinh tried to get up. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. He slipped. Wait? Blood…？
“My mother. What did you call her?” The calm was chilling.
Thinh’s friends froze. In one blow, half of their friend’s face had been torn off its skull.