Finders Keepers

Finders Keepers - Chapters 21-31

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Chapter 21
The Son Also Rises

The Western Sphere of Eternity - The Brockryder Hotel
Milky Way's Public Unveiling: T-Minus 31 Days (Eternity Standard Time)

They came mostly at night. Donald had another panic attack, that utter sense of helplessness, of humiliation. He was camped out on the sofa in the Brockryder suite, while Danielle snored away in the bedroom, sounding like the spine of a stallion was being ripped out one vertebra at a time.

            Still plagued by years of office politics, as if he had never actually escaped them, anxiety thrust Donald back to more than a year earlier, to the torment of his old job with the Galactic Particle Plant. To that day when he had been summoned to the lobby of Dünhauser's executive suite, offering the most spectacular view from any building in the GPP arsenal.

            And how he called Brigsby that night, begging for help.

***

Donald paced back and forth in the Industrial Row apartment, and then swallowed a pill from Danielle's SnoozyDooz bottle. He threw scotch down his throat. He winced. "Brigs. You've got to help me. Get me out of this place.."

            "Now, now," said Brigsby, who let out a dry, falsetto hiccup. "Tell Brigsypoo your tales of woe and fro and the silly little world of GPP."

            Donald heard Brigsby sip his drink-a blue martini, always a blue martini-and could almost see him lean back in that enormous whirlpool bath. It was set beneath a diamond-shaped skylight with a view of the Andromeda galaxy and Milo's Smear-that permanent nothing. The speakerphone was as clear as if Donald were right there with Brigsby, bubbles and all.

            "Come on, Brigs. I know Dünhauser Senior pulled some strings for you in the beginning, and you feel loyal to him. I respect that. But since he retired and put his son at the helm ... it's a nightmare. Junior's a spoiled punk playing games with us."

            "Isn't that why we're here? At the whim of someone's folly?"

            "Oh, don't start with that 'we're just the product of Eternity's imagination' crap. This is real. More than thirty thousand people work for GPP, including me and Danny, and most of us have been there a lot longer than Dün ... damn it! Come on, Brigs. Talk to the old man. He listens to you. Help us out."

            Giggling came through the speakerphone. Donald heard at least two other voices.

            "Brigs ... I left early today. I've never done that before. Ever." Donald pinched his eyes. He sighed. "Last week, he fired three hundred and twenty-seven people from the cleaning staff. They'd all been here at least seven years. Some of them almost twenty." The scotch was sharp against his lips. His breath was acidic. Bitter. "And you know what the little weasel did with the savings? He built a glass room in the lobby to park his motorcycle. He doesn't even drive! And now this! I don't even want to tell you what he said to me today."

            More laughter came from the speakerphone, followed by a splash, and a spuh-lunk bloop.

            "I love you, Donny. You know I do. Young Dünhauser is not the finest kind, I agree. But even I don't ring up billionaires and tell them that their sons, no matter what kind of spandex they might wear, are inappropriate for the ball."