Where Infinity Begins Read online

  “I’ll do it till she calls her own butt bombs!” said Bonnie.

  “Yes,” answered Lisa, “This is what we do all day.”

  “We’ve been best friends for eleven years,” said Bonnie, “We’re like sisters.”

  “We are!” said Lisa “I know everything about Bonnie. She can’t hide anything from me.”

  “By the way, that’s Gunn handling our security isn’t it,” said Nadine.

  “Yes,” said Maria, “He’s the contractor. I heard from Yvonne that the Gunn Company has been trying to negotiate a bigger deal with The Big Box company. I wonder if he gets it now. Anyway, please be careful, girls.”

  “Always,” said Bonnie graciously, “Thanks, Maria.”

  “By the way, Bonnie,” said Lisa, “I just asked Mike out.”

  “And…”

  “You were right. No need to wait for him to ask me. I’m seeing him tonight.”

  “Oh…”

  “After dinner. Don’t worry. We’re still on for your house tonight. I don’t stand up your mom!”

  “Thanks.”

  “Just uh… not a word to my mom about this date. I’m not sure how she’ll take it if she knew I asked him. It’s one thing if my life’s at risk, but breaking those rules of etiquette…”

  That evening, Bonnie and Lisa exited their train along the elevated “7” line. As they began down the stairs, they found themselves stuck in a crowd. It was not unusual to find a lot of company on the subway steps, but this line was barely even moving.

  “What could be going on here?” said Lisa.

  “Do you think it’s an accident or something?” said Bonnie.

  “What do you think it is?” asked Lisa pointedly, looking at Bonnie with wide eyes.

  “How should I know?”

  A moment later, they had their answer in the form of an announcement. “The 61st Street Checkpoint is now active. Please be ready with identification.”

  “Checkpoint?” said Bonnie and Lisa together in astonishment.

  “Oh yeah,” said a woman right in front of them, “They’re putting these all over the city.”

  “We should sue!” said Lisa, “I don’t need to be stopped and carded just for riding the subway.”

  “It’s not for riding the subway,” said a man right behind them, “It’s just for being out on the street.”

  “I did hear about this on the news,” said Bonnie, “They had some of these checkpoints on the streets in The Bronx. That big real estate guy was behind it, Johnny Gunn.”

  “There are more of them being opened all over the five boroughs,” said the man in front of them.

  Bonnie shook her head in disgust. “I had to deal with Gunn Security at Comic Con. I can’t imagine this becoming part of my daily life.”

  “How’s a real estate guy behind security checkpoints?” said Lisa.

  “Oh, I’ve seen this kind of thing before. One person gets enough money and power, and he expects to have control over everyone around him. Some well-placed campaign contributions certainly help.”

  “But this has to be against the constitution!”

  “It goes directly against the Fourth Amendment. But the constitution is like any set of laws. It requires people to make it work. If they’re not motivated, then there’s no law, just the will of the most powerful people operating the levers.”

  Lisa looked at Bonnie thoughtfully. On the surface, she was simply being cynical. But as with many times in the past, there was much more to her words than might have met the ears of a casual observer. It was eerily clear that she spoke not from book knowledge, but from personal experience. Over the many years of their friendship, Lisa had learned a great deal about Bonnie from discussions like these.

  “Either way,” said Lisa, “it looks like we’re stuck here for a while.”

  “Alright,” said Bonnie, “I’ll call my Mom and tell her we’ll be late.”

  “Just don’t let them catch you talking on that phone,” said the man.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” snapped Lisa.

  “I only wish I was,” said the man, “Mine was confiscated yesterday.”

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lisa was waved on. However, Bonnie was pulled aside and asked for her ID. The guard, not a city, state or federal officer but a large man in a security guard uniform, asked her questions in an abrupt tone.

  “Your name?”

  “Bonnie Boring.”

  “Birth date?”

  “January 12.”

  “Citizenship?”

  “United States?”

  “Were you born here?”

  “No. I’m naturalized.”

  “Where were you born?”

  Lisa stood at attention at that last question. She had never gotten a straight answer from Bonnie before about that particular matter. She didn’t really want this to be the circumstance when she did spill; it was clearly kept quiet for a reason. Be that as it may, the answer did not come after all.

  “Sir,” said Bonnie calmly, “May I ask you, is there any reason why I am being questioned? Am I suspected of any wrongdoing?”

  “Why can’t you answer that question?” said the officer coldly.

  “I believe I have the right to an answer.”

  “You are not a suspect, but you still have to answer my question.”

  “Then this a violation. I have the right to be secure in my person against unreasonable searches and seizures.”

  “What are you hiding, miss? I asked you a simple question.”

  “May I ask you something else? What are your credentials? Who are you to ask me this? May I see a badge?”

  “We are a private security agency, Gunn Security, acting on the city’s behalf.”

  Bonnie spoke calmly but firmly. “Then you are private citizens. We are on a public street. I’m not a suspect, or a witness to a crime. You have no more right to question me than that hot dog vendor over there. Unless someone can produce official credentials, there is no further reason why I should have to speak. Even then, I need to know why, and I demand to have a lawyer present.”

  “You keep this up and we’ll detain you!” snapped the officer.

  “John!” called another officer, “we need you over here! We have someone who just tried to run away.”

  “I got someone too,” said John.

  The other officer looked curiously at the short, thin girl whom his colleague was discussing. “Are you sure she is a threat?”

  “That’s my decision!”

  The guards looked at each other for a few seconds. Soon the second guard shook his head. “Look John, I think you’d better come with me. We have a real issue to deal with, and if this girl scares you, I don’t what to tell you.”

  Bonnie was finally waved on, and she and Lisa continued toward her house. As they reached a safe distance, Lisa shouted, “Unbelievable! I never imagined that happening here!”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Bonnie, visibly upset.

  3. House of Power

  Gunn Fortress, the headquarters of Johnny Gunn, was one of the most conspicuously tall buildings in the city, and certainly among the most luxuriant. Everything about it seemed to say “wealthy,” from the fake gold plating over the awning to the giant sign that announced “Gunn Fortress” to passerby in LED letters. But after all, everything about Johnny Gunn said “wealthy,” and it said so loudly. Though he fell short of the title of the country’s richest man by some distance, Johnny Gunn knew how to convey an image of extreme wealth. One could certainly get the impression that he was the richest man in America, if not the world.

  His empire was based in luxury real estate; he travelled all over New York, the United States, and the world, buying properties for his various purposes. But the company had also branched out in numerous other directions. The Gunn corporation could now be found in military contracts, restaurants, publishing, and (briefly) even movie production. Gunn’s security division was actually less th
an a year old, but it was growing fast, and represented a crucial facet of his longer-term goals.

  The top floors were jealously known as the “crystal palace” by the less privileged employees of the lower floors. On this day, Johnny Gunn, a tall man with curly, grey-blond hair, addressed his support staff, as only he knew how.

  “I want to start out by reminding everyone here that you are sitting in the house that Gunn built. And you know, I don’t mean me. I mean my father, Milton Gunn. None of us would be here without him and his vision. You realize, he started with nothing. Absolutely nothing!”

  Several employees did their best to contain their laughter. It was public knowledge that Milton Gunn was a child of privilege. His childhood pictures in Lord Fauntleroy clothing were often shared quietly by employees, some photoshopped with the face of an adult Johnny Gunn.

  “And so now,” continued Johnny, “I think, would he be proud of me now? My dad warned me that Uncle Sam would come for me. The corrupt government has always wanted to take away my earnings. But like every hard-working American, I have picked myself up by my bootstraps, worked day and night, and made this a company I can be proud of.

  “Each and every one of you should be thankful for my father, and for the hard work I do every day. It is on you to sacrifice for this company too. And the truth is, some of you do that better than others. Some of you disappoint me. Yeah. I wrote my list. Pam? You sent that out, right?”

  “Yes,” said Pam Gilroy, a shapely, dark, young woman in a tight-fitting business suit.

  “So, someone asked a question in the suggestion box, ‘How do you do the job better?’ Right Pam? That was it?”

  “Yes,” said Pam, “That was the gist of it.” She actually kept the real letter hidden, since it had some choice words that would certainly have boomeranged on the employee, had it been it discovered.

  “When you work for Gunn, you are not here for yourself. You live to serve Gunn. But it’s not enough to simply do what you’re told. A decent employee should anticipate what my needs are going to be. If you want to do this job well, you should already know what I expect without my having to ask for it.”

  The employees stood quietly. They tried their best to disguise their look of stunned silence as the look of intent listening. For seasoned employees, this was a skill perfected over many hard months or years. However, there weren’t all that many seasoned employees. Turnover was high.

  “Alright?” said Johnny, “Done. I got an important meeting.”

  Johnny and Pam returned to the safety of Johnny’s office, a large, luxuriant room with a long table of finished wood and a reclining leather chair. Johnny sat down, and Pam leaned up next to him.

  “Who are these people anyway?” said Johnny, “They should damn well know what to do, right? I mean, what do I have to go through here?”

  Pam looked lovingly at Johnny. “I don’t think anyone truly understands how much you do here. You really are the backbone of the company, and so much more.”

  “I’m glad you understand that, Pam,” said Johnny, “You know, I really miss my father.”

  “Aw, Johnny,” said Pam, “I miss mine too. Mine is very far away. Very, very far. I live to make him happy.”

  “Mine is long dead,” said Johnny, “But I think of him every day. I’m representing him now. He was a great man, and if I am going to live up to his expectations, I have to be great too.”

  “And you are, Johnny dear, you are!”

  “You see, Pam, you understand me. I wish my wife got me the way you do. Lilianna just talks on and on.”

  Pam stood up and walked up behind Johnny, where she began to massage his shoulders. “And if I can make you happy, then that is what I want most here. You’ll see what I can do. I will help you take this company to heights you’ve never imagined.”

  That morning, Johnny was in long, secret meetings, and unable to take official business. Before long, the receptionist was sweating from the sheer number of calls she had to take.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Gunn is not taking calls today. He is busy. Well sir, I assure you, you are always important….Oh! of course, Mr. Mayor! If this were an important meeting, you would certainly have been invited. Does that even need to be said? Oh, no, Mayor Shill! Look, he doesn’t make an important decision about the city without consulting you. You stick to your alternate side parking, and he’ll inform you about policy decisions. Well, you know what he says, you want your campaign contributions, right? I thought so. Thank you. Have a good day.”

  A woman from a nearby cubicle sidled over. “Wow, Linda! You’ve been doing that for hours! You should get some kind of medal.”

  “I wish!” answered Linda, “He doesn’t do recognition. Not unless he gets something out of it.”

  “Oh. You can’t exactly…Right? Aren’t you…”

  “Married? Yes. Oh, I try to tell him to keep his paws off. He’s mostly moved on to Pam.”

  “Pam? Is that…”

  “Pam Gilroy, his new personal assistant. She moved up awfully fast. She must have some strange talent. Anyway, I wonder how much longer this is taking. I’m getting tired of lying for him.”

  A few yards away, behind a hidden door, a secret meeting was being held between some twelve men, all wealthy, mostly middle-to-old aged.

  “Well gentlemen,” said Johnny, “I do want you to know, I appreciate your patience this long meeting. Pam?”

  Pam jumped to attention from the corner. “Yes sir?”

  “I see you getting lazy there. C’mon woman! Get up!”

  As Pam scurried, Johnny addressed the table again, “Alright gentlemen. We have New York’s government in our pockets. Consider that a dry run. I think we’re all men here. Nobody’s afraid to get his hands dirty.”

  “Especially when you’re talking about the ladies,” said one of the men at the table.

  “Hey Miles! I’m not apologizing for that. I don’t care what the elitist media says. They hate me, just like everyone in the establishment hates me. So, are you on their side now?”

  “Easy!” said Miles, “You know we’re pals for many years. I’m just keeping an eye out for you. These kind of things may come back to haunt you.”

  “It’s my right to be a man, and like any real man, I know how to get my action. You got to show them who’s the boss. No girl wants some lame ass mama’s boy who gets on his knees and begs for her attention. Girls respect a man, the king of the room!”

  Miles put his hands in front of him in a gesture of resigned silence.

  “That’s right,” said Johnny Gunn, “I’m the king of this room, and the king of New York.”

  “Yes,” said a man in a far corner, now speaking for the first time, “You can go right ahead and call yourself that. But what are you doing to our benefit? My brother and I have had this talk with you before. Joseph was very clear, right? Our money supports you, and we need to know that our terms are met.”

  “Don’t worry, Will!” said Johnny, “I was just getting to you. You Roach brothers will have so much power, you won’t know what to do with it. Here it is, finally, our master plan. America will be completely in our hands within a month.”

  4. Cleared for Takeoff?

  Bonnie lived in a townhouse like many others in Queens. It was narrow, with a simple, flat brick façade, part of a long row taking up nearly half the block. Inside, it was simple and homey. The living room was walled by the main stairway on one side. The other side of the living room connected to the dining room, which also connected to the kitchen. Lisa and Bonnie were finishing dinner with Betty Boring. She was similar in appearance to Bonnie, dark and petite. She wore a blouse and jeans, with her hair up.

  “That is upsetting,” said Betty, “I’ve heard rumors about checkpoints going up around the city, but I thought it was an exaggeration.”

  “But you know what, Mrs. B?” said Lisa, “Bonnie sure knew how to deal with the guy. She didn’t give in, but she never lost her cool either. It was like she had experience w
ith that kind of thing.”

  Bonnie looked down uneasily. Betty smiled warmly. “I’ve trained her well.”

  “Whatever,” said Bonnie. She immediately turned back to her food, looking unnerved.

  “By the way,” said Betty, “thanks again for getting Bonnie the job. I trust that she’s working hard.”

  “She’s great,” said Lisa, “She’s the fastest cashier around.”

  “Wonderful,” said Betty, “I knew she could handle the grind.”

  “You know I love your cooking, Mrs. B. You really have a way with chicken soup.”

  “Well, thank you, dear! I made it yesterday. It’s always better the second day.”

  “Oh, yeah? So Bonnie, do you cook with her?”

  “Well,” said Bonnie, “I like to watch TV when she cooks.”

  “That’s quite alright,” said Betty, “So are you ready for desert?”

  “Sure!” said Lisa as she helped Betty clear off the plates. A moment later, Betty brought a cake to the table.

  “Ugh,” said Bonnie, “Blastoff? Why, Mom?”

  “Oh! I love this!” said Lisa, “Thanks Mrs. B. You didn’t have to bake just for me.”

  “You know what?” said Bonnie with a look of annoyance, “I’ve seen enough. I’m going to watch TV or something.”

  Bonnie looked at the cake once more in disgust, then ran upstairs to her room. Lisa held her composure, as always practicing her impeccable manners, but she could not completely disguise her discomfort.

  “Really, Mrs. B,” said Lisa, “I love your ‘Blastoff.’”

  “Never mind, dear,” said Betty, “I figured she might react that way. I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Oh Mrs. B, honestly, all this is fine, great actually. I promise…”

  “No honey, it’s not about that. It’s about my daughter and the job. Lisa dear, how is she there, really?”

  “Well she works very hard.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I have another concern. Lisa, you know I love her dearly. But bless her, sometimes she’s a little headstrong. Does she follow orders? Does she respect her coworkers?”

  “Oh,” said Lisa.