Bump Time Origin Page 8

  “Your job will sound overwhelming, but it’s pretty easy if you follow the script. Do it right and you’ll have lots of free time and plenty to spend.”

  “Now that’s what I call recruiting!”

  “Okay, here it is. Lilah was hired four months ago.”

  Diesel started to talk, and Twenty-Six held up his hand to hush him. “She is Lilah Spencer, an AI programming wunderkind.”

  “That beauty is an egghead?”

  “She’s been working sixty-hour weeks building Ciopova and the T-box. She met all her goals, and according to her contract, you owe her a hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”

  “Ha-ha. There’s that bad recruiting strategy again.”

  “Pay her with this.” He held up the card. “It’s the most prestigious card in the world. Go into any commercial bank and use it to wire her the funds wherever she asks.”

  “Wow. Okay.”

  “But in thirty days, the bill for that plus a few other odds and ends comes due. You need to raise enough to pay that off.”

  “What’s the minimum payment?”

  “Three hundred and fifty thousand-ish.”

  Diesel shrugged. “I’ll just go to the bank and use the prestige card to take out a cash advance.”

  Twenty-Six smiled for the first time. He dug into the bag and handed Diesel a business card with information scribbled on the back. “A better solution is that tomorrow morning you buy a lottery ticket from this place. Buy it sometime after eight but before eight thirty, and be sure it’s for the lottery game listed there.” He pointed to a line of text. “Play those numbers. This store is next to a diner with cozy booths and an amazing breakfast, so take some time to enjoy yourself while you’re there.”

  Diesel turned the card over and saw that it listed him as president of Bump Analytics. “Oh, I saw my name as president and was confused. But you’re David Lagerford too, according to your story anyway.”

  “No, that’s you. You’re president here and need to get things moving. I’m president in my own timeline, which I need to get back to.” He glanced at the clock and then continued. “Lilah’s contract is almost up, and you need to renew it. Lilah hired Justus, and you need to take his employment off her plate. He’ll help you take care of legal and business matters, provide security, and a lot more.”

  The onslaught of fantastic ideas made everything surreal, and Diesel wasn’t sure how to respond. “What do I offer them for salary and terms? What do you offer me?”

  Twenty-Six continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It’s noon, so take Lilah to lunch at Roxie’s. Get to know her. Learn about her work. Ask what she wants for a two-year contract, and give her whatever she asks. She’s critical to all of this, so don’t blow it.”

  “Is she a good kisser?” This part of him was never confused. “Please tell me you know.”

  Twenty-Six’s face hardened. “Do not hit on her. Don’t talk to her about sex. Don’t flirt at all. Her computer skills are way more important than your dick. And if you blow it, Forty will come back and smack you into next week. You don’t want to time travel that way.”

  “Jeez. Calm down.” Diesel pulled the bloody tissue off his wound and replaced it with a new one from the box. “So how much do I win?”

  “In the lottery? Lump sum is nine hundred thousand and change. Twenty-Nine will be here at the end of the week to show you and Justus how to invest it so it quadruples before the bills come due. Then he’ll show you how to double it every few months through the end of the year. It just keeps growing when you know the future. You’ll be able to live in luxury your whole life off that nest egg.”

  Twenty-Six dug into the bag and pulled out a ring of three keys. “This one is to your car. It’s parked out front at the bottom of the stairs. German engineering at its finest.” He smiled at Diesel, then fingered the next keys. “This one is to the front door, and this is to your apartment.”

  “What front door?”

  “Here. Upstairs is your home. This floor includes the front lobby, this conference room, a larger common room, and Justus’s office. Downstairs is workspace for you and Lilah, plus that’s where the T-box is.”

  “Justus gets an office with windows and I get the basement?”

  “Yup.”

  “What about my stuff at the hotel?”

  “Justus had it sent over. It’s upstairs in your bedroom.” Twenty-Six stood. “Go clean up and then go to lunch. Learn about Lilah’s work. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  Diesel followed Twenty-Six into the hall.

  “Your apartment is up those stairs. Go ahead and check it out. I’ll tell Lilah you’ll meet her by the front door in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” said Diesel, eyeing the steps.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow morning at eleven,” Twenty-Six continued. “Let’s go to a climbing gym so I can at least get my workout while I school you. After, we can have lunch and watch you win the lottery.” He pointed at Diesel’s hand. “And take care of that when you’re up there.”

  Diesel checked his pocket to make sure he had the business card with the lottery instructions, then, dazed by it all, he started up the stairs.

  As he reached the top, Twenty-Six called to him. “Oh, and Twenty-Five, kiss my ass.”

  The landing reminded Diesel of a classy elevator lobby—nice carpet and wallpaper, a hall table made of dark wood, and a cut glass mirror on the wall. But instead of an elevator door, the landing offered a heavy wooden door into the apartment.

  He knocked and when no one answered, he tried the door. It was locked, so he tried his key. The door swung open.

  Then he started laughing. “This can’t be real.”

  The place was a dream home. Handsome, well-appointed, clean. Stepping inside, he walked through a spacious living area with large windows, hardwood floors, an array of comfy furniture, and an enormous entertainment center.

  Continuing back, he passed a set of stairs tucked against the wall and arrived at the dining area, with table, chairs, and built-in cabinets nicer than anything his folks ever had. Past that was the kitchen, with stone countertops, new appliances, and a back wall with more windows.

  He tested the kitchen faucet, opened the refrigerator door, and checked to see if the oven clock was correct. Then he made his way to the stairway, figuring the bedroom needed to be up there since it wasn’t on this floor.

  He wasn’t disappointed. The stairs led up to two separate suites, front and back, each with private bath, big closets, and classic furniture. His suitcase lay on the king-sized bed of the back suite. That one had a closet stocked with men’s clothes, and a glass door that led out to a garden balcony.

  In his bathroom, soap, antiseptic, a bandage, and a towel sat next to the sink. Shaking his head at his idiocy, he pulled the gooey red tissue off the back of his hand, cleaned the wound, and bandaged it up.

  Leaving the detritus of his medical treatment scattered across the bathroom countertop, he started down the stairs. On the main level, Lilah greeted him with a grin. Diesel’s heart fluttered.

  “I was thinking we’d go to Roxie’s,” he said as he approached, his focus on his attraction to her rather than the crazy circumstances.

  “My favorite.”

  He let her walk out the front door ahead of him. “Should I lock it?”

  “It locks automatically. Do you have your key?”

  He showed her the ring, and as they climbed down the stone steps, he pressed the button on his car key. A new light blue sports car chirped and blinked its lights.

  “Oh boy,” he said, opening the passenger door for Lilah. “I’m gonna love this job.”

  She pointed down the street. “Roxie’s is a five-minute walk.”

  “Let’s drive anyway?”

  She hesitated and then climbed in.

  Diesel got in and started oohing and ahhing as he ran his fingers over the various buttons and knobs around him. He adjusted the mirrors, positioned the car seat, then adjusted the mirrors
again.

  “Contact,” he said as he started the car. The motor was so quiet that he revved the engine a couple of times to make sure it was running, then he flipped on the turn signal and pulled out.

  “Turn right at the end,” she said as they rolled down the street. Ten seconds later, she announced, “There it is.”

  He missed the turn, partly on purpose. “I’ll spin around and catch it next loop.”

  She gave him a sideways look. “Hey, what happened to your hand?”

  Diesel looked at the bandage. “I cut it.”

  Roxie’s turned out to be what Diesel called a “garden restaurant,” its upscale atmosphere created by lush ferns hanging from the ceiling and vines climbing the walls, all complemented by small trees in big pots scattered across the dining room floor. Windows and a row of skylights brightened it up in the daytime.

  They sat in a booth, with Diesel sitting at an angle so his back rested against the wall. The waitress came and Lilah ordered a salad plate with a piece of grilled salmon on top. Diesel ordered a burger priced more like a steak dinner. They both ordered iced tea.

  “So, you’ve been working on your project for the past four months?” Diesel said when they were alone.

  Lilah, sipping her water, nodded.

  “And you met all of your contract goals?”

  “I did,” she said, setting the glass on the table.

  “Have you enjoyed the experience?”

  “I’ll enjoy it more when I get paid.”

  Diesel studied her and his heart melted. Not only was she crushingly beautiful, he loved her mannerisms, the way she talked, her coquettish smile.

  “How much are you owed?”

  “Contract says one hundred and sixty thousand.”

  Diesel shook his head as if to clear it. “That’s a lot of money.”

  Lilah shrugged. “This is where you hand me my check.”

  Diesel pulled out his black prestige card. “After lunch, we’ll go to a bank and we’ll have them cut a check for you today. Sound good?”

  She smiled and he melted some more.

  “I’d like to extend your contract.” He tried to sound casual.

  “Doing what?”

  Diesel realized he should have asked his next question first. “What is it you do now?”

  “Strengthen Ciopova, of course.”

  “Is that a who or a what?”

  She frowned.

  “Lilah, do you know what’s going on? I’m pretty confused right now.”

  The waitress arrived with their lunch plates just as Diesel said that last part.

  “What do you think you know?” asked Lilah.

  “Three hours ago my normal world got turned upside down in what is perhaps the most elaborate practical joke in history. I’m going crazy trying to think who might be doing this to me. All of this is costing a bundle, but I don’t have any rich friends—or enemies—who could afford something like this.”

  “You had no knowledge of any of this before today?”

  “I don’t know what ‘this’ is.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “It means we’re at the injection point. You start the loop.”

  This morning’s conversation with Twenty-Six had been amusing, but as the joke wore on, it became less so. “Please use small words and short sentences to explain this to me.”

  “You can travel across time.”

  “Whew. For a minute there I thought it would be complicated.” He took a bite of his burger and waited. When she started eating, he said, “Are you really going to make me ask?”

  She seemed confused.

  “Here are a few basic questions. How is that possible? Why me? How are you involved? And who or what is Cassiopeia?”

  “Ciopova.”

  “Whatever.”

  “This will take a while.”

  “We’ll order coffee.”

  As they ate, Lilah walked him through a summary of events, starting from when she was a lone AI developer back in Boston. She told him of her first contact with Ciopova, the AI’s subsequent amazing ability to know things it shouldn’t, about the warehouse project, the refurbishment of the row houses, construction of the T-box, and visits by Diesels from parallel timelines.

  She finished at the same time their waitress arrived with the bill. Diesel handed her the black prestige card. She stepped away to run the total.

  “Weren’t you tempted with that lottery money? I mean, if my phone helped me win a million bucks, I’d claim it, skip town, and never be seen in these parts ever again.”

  Lilah gave a slight nod. “That would be a reason why Ciopova would go to me before getting you involved. She knows she can trust me.”

  Diesel thought that if Ciopova wanted him involved for some reason, Lilah was the perfect bait.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said the waitress, placing the prestige card on the table. “It bounced.”

  Mortified, Diesel blushed so hard his face burned. Having Lilah witness his humiliation intensified the embarrassment. Sliding his butt forward on the seat, he dug into his pocket and found the wad of cash he’d brought with him when he thought this would be a normal interview trip. Counting bills, he put down enough for the tab plus a generous tip.

  As the waitress walked away, Lilah said, “Isn’t that the card you said would get me paid?”

  “Is this more of the elaborate joke? Lead me on with the perfect girl and then embarrass me in front her?” He stood up from the booth. “What did I ever do to you?”

  She looked at him with eyes wide, her mouth in an O.

  “Since it’s only a five-minute walk,” he said, “I’ll let you enjoy the stroll back to the office.”

  He turned and marched through the restaurant lobby and out to the parking lot. Stopping there, he wondered where he should go and if he should take the car.

  “Wait,” called Lilah from the door. “I can make that card work.” She walked toward him, lowering her voice as she approached. “Actually, Justus can. Would it be all right if we sit in the car while I call him?”

  “Lilah, you’re messing with my head in ways you don’t realize. Please stop.”

  She started walking toward the car. “You’re the one who called me the ‘perfect girl,’ so who’s the one messing with someone’s head?”

  She stood on the passenger side, looking at him expectantly. He pressed the button on his key and the door unlocked. They both got in.

  Lilah took out her phone and held it between them so Diesel could hear. “Can you crack the window?” she asked. “It’s stuffy.”

  He opened the window while she called.

  “Bump Analytics.” Diesel recognized Justus’s voice.

  “It’s Lilah. The boss was buying me lunch, and his brand new card bounced.”

  “Oh, hell. I thought I had until dinner to activate it. Please stall him for five minutes. I’ll do it now.”

  “He’s not going to be happy with you.”

  “Tell him the problem is on their end.”

  “Have it working in five minutes because he’s using it in six.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “The problem is on their end,” she deadpanned as she hung up, then she pointed. “Turn right out of the parking lot. The bank is two blocks down.”

  The short drive seemed to take forever for Diesel. Lilah stared ahead without speaking. He relived the awkward exchange over and over in his head, castigating himself for his stupidity with each review.

  She pointed to the bank up ahead, and as he pulled into the parking lot, he broke the silence. “Please forgive my behavior. I lashed out at the most convenient target. It was wrong and I apologize. I guess all this is getting to me.”

  “I forgive you about that.” She got out of the car and walked with him into the bank. “But I don’t think I’ll continue on after this week. The vibe isn’t right. You have a mean streak. And you cheat.”

  Diesel slowed his step as he dig
ested her words. He’d made a mess of this assignment but felt disoriented about it more than anything else. Feeling sorry for himself, he looked down. “I don’t blame you. Forty is going to beat the shit out of me, but that’s my problem.”

  The next minutes were magical. He put the card down at a bank window, Lilah wrote her information on a slip, and the teller moved one hundred and sixty thousand dollars into her account. The transaction was so easy that Diesel pulled cash out for himself, asking first for two hundred dollars and then changing it to five hundred.

  Back in the car, Diesel prompted her to continue her story. “So you show up in town with a mountain of cash. What are your first steps?”

  “Why is Forty going to beat the shit out of you?”

  “My first assignment was to get you paid and then secure your services for the next two years.” He took his eyes off the road to look at her. “They told me to give you whatever you asked for and to not screw it up.”

  “One hundred thousand a month, payable every month. On time.”

  “That’s over a million a year.”

  “That’s for year one. Year two it’s two hundred thousand a month, payable same terms.”

  “Damn, Lilah. Forty will really beat the shit out of me if I agree to that. Why are you squeezing so hard? Are you a material person?”

  “You know the future, Diesel. Or your brothers do. Growing money is easy when you know in advance what’s going up and what’s going down. I’m asking for maybe ten percent of what you’ll be doing over the next two years. From where I sit, I’m not being greedy at all.”

  He mulled her words and realized she was right. The lottery wasn’t a long-term strategy. If you win too many times, it draws attention. But use lottery winnings to seed an investment fund that makes sure bets. Stocks, sports, real estate. He could have twenty or thirty million in two years, no problem.

  “Done.” He stuck out his hand to shake on it. Her touch was so electric that he lost his concentration, screeching his tires moments later to stop short for a lady in the crosswalk.

  He pulled into the same parking space in front of the row house and noticed a permit-only parking sign on a pole on the sidewalk. “Am I allowed to park here?”