Coin #2 - Quantum Coin (21 page)

Nathaniel nodded.

“I don't know the Scotts,” Dug said. He glanced behind him. “I'm about to go to bed, but if this won't take long.” He opened the door wider and gestured them in.

“Thank you,” Ephraim said.

Dug nodded. “Please, ah, remove your shoes?” He pointed at the guest slippers lined up inside the door.

Ephraim pulled off his rented dress shoes, glad to get out of them, and slid his feet into cloth slippers that looked about the right size. They were really comfy. Nathaniel grunted and followed suit while Ephraim looked around the foyer.

“You have a beautiful home,” Ephraim said.

The house smelled different—sweet, like pipe smoke—but it didn't look much different from the one Ephraim had visited before. It dated back to the turn of the century, and Jena's grandparents had spent every dime they'd brought from South Korea after the Korean War to buy and renovate it. That would have been only a year ago now.

“The telephone is in the kitchen. Would you like something to drink?” Dug started walking toward the kitchen.

“Actually, we don't need your phone,” Nathaniel said.

Dug took a step back. “You said you had to call someone.” He narrowed his eyes at Ephraim suspiciously and groped behind him as if feeling for a weapon. There was a coat rack with a fedora and a raincoat on it within his reach.

Ephraim put his hands up. “It's long-distance,” he said. “Really long-distance. Can we use your ham shack?”

“Who are you?” Dug asked. “How do you know I have a radio?”

“We, uh, saw the antenna?” Nathaniel said.

“Please leave,” Dug said. He clenched his fists at his side.

“We can't,” Nathaniel said. “We need your help.”

“Look, this is all going to sound strange, but I know that your radio has your call sign scratched into the top left corner: WB2IXW,” Ephraim said.

“Get out,” Dug said.

Nathaniel lunged for Dug. Dug flinched and raised his arms defensively, too late. Nathaniel grabbed his shirt collar in his left hand and pulled him toward him, while punching with the right. Dug cried out. His glasses flew off his face and clattered to the wood floor.

“Nathaniel!” Ephraim said. “Stop!”

Dug flailed and started yammering in rapid Korean. Ephraim recognized one of the words:
Michosso.
Crazy.

Nathaniel hit Dug again, and he folded to the floor. He stopped moving.

“Shit,” Ephraim said. “What did you do, Nathaniel?”

“We need his radio,” Nathaniel said. “It's the only way.”

“No,” Ephraim said.

“Well, it was the fastest.” Nathaniel glared at him, his eyes nearly feral. “You could have stopped me. You just didn't want this on your hands. Well, it isn't. But you can help me tie him up and make him comfortable,” Nathaniel said.

Ephraim bent to pick up Dug's glasses. The frame was slightly bent, but they were otherwise intact. He wiped a dot of blood from one of the lenses with the bottom of his T-shirt, folded the glasses, and hooked one of the legs over his belt.

“We'll talk about this later,” Ephraim said.

He helped Nathaniel carry Dug to the couch in the living room. The ham radio shack was set up on a table in a corner of the room.

Ephraim and Nathaniel inspected it. “This looks brand-new,” Ephraim said.

“It
is
new.” Nathaniel picked up an open user's manual. “He's just starting his hobby.”

Nathaniel grabbed a roll of wire and a knife and returned to the couch. He set to tying up Dug's wrists and ankles with the wire. The man's lip was split and bleeding, and the left side of his face was swollen and red.

“Is that necessary?” Ephraim asked.

Nathaniel ignored him. Ephraim turned his attention back to the radio, unable to look at Dug anymore.

“This radio doesn't have the same modifications Zoe made to expand it to the DX range,” Ephraim said. He slapped the desk's surface, and a pencil jumped on the blotter. “We can't contact other universes with this.”

“Scoot,” Nathaniel said. He took the chair from Ephraim and pulled his controller out. “I'm going to hook this up to the radio, just like Zoe did. And hope our luck improves.”

Nathaniel opened the controller and switched it on. The glow on his face made him look ten years older.

Ephraim leaned over to look at the device. It was identical to the one Jena had carried, but it was still in its original silver casing, all polished and shining like chrome. It also had a groove for a coin.

Ephraim touched the shallow hollow.

“Is there a coin that goes with this?” Ephraim asked.

“Not that I've ever seen.” Nathaniel handed it over.

Ephraim was surprised when the screen stayed lit.

“Nathaniel?” Ephraim tilted the controller to show him the glowing screen.

“Hmm. It was never keyed to a specific user,” Nathaniel said. “I guess anyone can operate it.”

“Isn't that dangerous?”

“Yeah. I shouldn't have been carrying that thing around with me,” Nathaniel said.

Ephraim returned it to Nathaniel. The man smiled.

“What?” Ephraim asked.

“I didn't have to ask you for it, you didn't hesitate.”

“It's yours,” Ephraim said. “I don't want it. It's safer with you.”

“But if you programmed this for your coin, you could travel the multiverse on your own,” Nathaniel said. “If we ever get back.”

“You must be confusing me with someone who cares about that sort of thing. I just want to go home,” Ephraim said. “But speaking of the coin, how will we know we've tuned the right frequency without it?” Ephraim asked.

“We'll hear Zoe's voice,” Nathaniel said. “Since this controller is set to detect the LCD, it's essentially a direct line to my home universe. We still might be able to DX on the magic band.”

Nathaniel examined the tools on the desk. “Looks like our friend Dug has everything I need to make some adjustments to improve our odds.”

He leaned over the radio and rummaged around in the back until he found a place to crimp wire into the radio. Static sizzled from the headphones. He unplugged them, and the sound came through a single speaker on the desk.

“What are you…doing?” Dug Kim called from the couch in a raspy voice.

Ephraim jumped and turned around guiltily. Jena's grandfather was trussed up like a turkey with lengths of cable, lying on his side on the couch with his legs torqued to touch the floor. Ephraim winced.

“Anything I can do to help?” Ephraim asked Nathaniel.

“Keep him quiet while I set this up.” He glanced at Dug, and his face showed concern. “Get him something for his eye.”

Ephraim found a bag of frozen peas in the freezer and brought it to Dug. The man struggled and twisted away from him as he helped him up to a seated position. Bright-red saliva dribbled from a corner of his bloody mouth and stretched in a long line from his chin to his white shirt, which was now speckled with crimson.

“I'm sorry,” Ephraim said. He held the frozen peas gingerly against Dug's face. The man moaned. He didn't look forward to telling Zoe and Jena that they'd beat up their grandfather. “This never should have happened.”

“Just don't hurt my—” Dug closed his good eye and sighed. “Just go.”

“We're working on that,” Ephraim said. “We didn't mean any harm.”

Dug barked a laugh, and it turned into a cough. More red sprayed from his lips. Ephraim wondered if he should call him an ambulance. They could do that just before they left, if Nathaniel only hurried.

“I'm beginning to think I made a mistake coming to this country,” Dug said.

“Why did you?” Ephraim asked.

“To get a good job. To make a better future for my family. I thought Americans were our friends, but…” He shook his head and drew in a sharp, painful breath.

Nathaniel fiddled with the radio's dial, speaking softly into the microphone. “CQ DX. CQ DX. Is there anyone on this frequency? Over.”

“What do you do?” Ephraim asked.

“Electrical engineer.” Dug looked at him. “Who are you? What are you doing with my radio? Are you Russian spies?”

Ephraim glanced at Nathaniel.

“I'm a friend of your granddaughter's,” Ephraim said.

“Ephraim,” Nathaniel said.

Ephraim saw the moment that Dug started thinking that Ephraim was insane. He'd seen that look before.

“Screw this,” Ephraim said. He reached into his pocket. Dug shrank away.

“Easy. I'm just getting my wallet.” Ephraim pulled it out and flipped through it until he pulled out the senior picture Jena had given him last week. He held it up close to her grandfather's face.

“See?” Ephraim asked.

The Korean man examined it silently. It showed Jena in a modest blue dress, without her glasses.

“She's pretty, but I don't have a granddaughter,” Dug said.

“You will.” Ephraim pointed out the gold stamp in the corner that said 2012.

Dug chuckled. “You think you're from the future?”

“You've spoken to her already, actually,” Ephraim said. “The other day. You were having a political conversation or something and we found your signal.”

“Two days ago, I did hear a girl's voice. What's her name?” Dug asked.

“Zoe or Jena, depending.”

“Depending on what?”

That would take too long to explain.

“It's Zoe,” Ephraim said. “And if Nathaniel can get that radio working again, you'll be able to talk to her again.”

Dug squinted at the picture again. “She does look familiar. Why are you carrying her picture around?”

“We're dating,” Ephraim said. “Going steady.”

Dug looked at him skeptically.

“It's not like it is now,” Ephraim said. “Interracial couples—”

“Do you love this girl? Zoe?” Dug asked.

“I do,” Ephraim said. He stared at the picture and tried to figure out which girl he meant.

“CQ DX. This is CHARON1 to CHARON2. Do you read? Over,” Nathaniel said.

“That's not a proper call sign,” Dug said. “Are you licensed to operate? What is that thing you're holding?”

“Amplifier,” Ephraim said. “So we can reach a higher frequency range.”

Dug's eyebrows shot up. “That's an interesting notion.”

“CHARON2 to CHARON1.” Zoe's voice rustled through the speakers. Ephraim froze. Dug looked at him.

Nathaniel whooped. “Boy, am I glad to hear your voice, Z,” he said.

“I've been listening all night, hoping you'd be able to get through,” she said. “I don't know how you're doing it, but we can save that for later. Is Eph with you?”

“I'm here,” Ephraim said. He went over to the desk and leaned into the microphone. “I'm here. And we, uh, have a special guest who would like to say hi.”

Nathaniel released the microphone. “Seriously, Ephraim?”

“We owe him,” Ephraim said.

Nathaniel sighed. He went over to the couch and sawed through the wires tying Dug's feet. He helped him up and guided him over to the chair gently. Dug lifted his bound hands up and over the microphone. The man suddenly looked unsure of himself.

“Go on,” Ephraim said.

Dug squeezed the microphone to transmit.

“This is WB2IXW. Sung Dug Kim,” he said.

“Grumps!” Zoe squealed. Dug raised an eyebrow, and Ephraim suddenly knew where Jena and Zoe had gotten that little mannerism.

Ephraim shrugged. “Childhood term of endearment.”

“Grandpa Dug, I'm Zoe Kim. John Kim's daughter.”

“John…” Dug said. His eyes flicked upward. “This is unnatural,” he said.

Ephraim drew Nathaniel across the room to give them some privacy. Nathaniel checked his watch impatiently.

A red light flashed against the curtains. Ephraim went to the window and peered out.

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.

There was a black-and-white vehicle outside with a revolving red light on top. A man in a dark-blue police uniform walked up the path to the door.

“It's the cops!” Ephraim said.

“Damn. Who called them?” Nathaniel asked.

“The neighbors?”

There was loud banging on the door. A baby started crying upstairs.

Nathaniel and Ephraim looked at Dug Kim.

“You have a baby?” Ephraim asked. “How old?”

“My son, John,” Dug said. “Eight months. The first Kim born in this country.”

“Your wife's upstairs. Did she phone the cops?” Nathaniel asked.

“Don't you dare hurt Eun Hee,” Dug said.

“Guys? What's going on?” Zoe asked in a staticky, panicky voice from the radio's speakers. “Grumps?”

The cops pounded on the door again. A deep male voice boomed from the other side. “Open up!”

“We have to get out of here,” Nathaniel said. He grabbed the microphone away from Dug. “Zoe?”

“Yes.” She sniffled, or maybe that was just more static on the line. “My grandfather—”

“No time. If you're talking to us, then that means the LCD is on?”

“You bet,” she said. “Dr. Kim—”

“Dr.
Kim?” Dug asked.

“I need you to switch it to receive mode in…” Nathaniel glanced at his watch. “Twenty seconds? Do you know how to do that?” Nathaniel asked.

“There's a lever with two settings marked in masking tape: ‘Receive’ and ‘Block.’ Does that have anything to do with it?”

“Smartass.”

“Dr. Kim won't like this,” Zoe said.

“I don't like being left behind,” Nathaniel said.

The pounding continued at the door, and the baby wailed upstairs. A scared female voice called down in Korean. Dug shouted something back to her.

“This is your last warning. Let us in!” the cop barked.

“But no one can pick you up in that universe,” Zoe said. “Everett's in really bad shape.”

“I thought he might be. Just set the LCD to receive mode and I'll take care of the rest. Ten seconds later, switch the LCD back to block mode. Over.”

“I'm on it. Bye, Grumps. Love you! Over.” Zoe signed off, and static crackled on the dead channel.

“Can't I say good-bye to her?” Dug asked.

“You'll be able to say hello in forty years,” Ephraim said.

Nathaniel plucked a copper cable from the back of the machine. The other end was coiled tightly around the controller. Nathaniel unraveled it quickly and dropped it to the floor. Ephraim picked it up and collapsed the loose spring into a loop. He slipped it into his back pocket.