Page 73 of The Paradox Club

“Easy for you to say.”

“You’re right. I understand that they are real to you.”

“As real as you are. And just as stubborn.”

“You can’t function without sleep, Tess, especially at college. I’m going to prescribe something very mild. It will help you sleep, but I promise, if the voices need you, they’ll still be able to wake you up.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Get some sleep, Tess. Remember…”

“I know. Lack of sleep leads to bad decision-making.”

“That’s right.”

“How do I know taking your pills isn’t one of those bad decisions?”

“It’s a very mild dose, Tess. Please, just take the medication and get some sleep.”

“Fine.”

GATSBY AND PILGRIM 3

Pilgrim 3 thought she should be pleased. Even without Gatsby the Great, she had four hundred twenty-one UFOs in her possession, including six that had been found, as Harry Maxwell predicted, in the second half of 2005. That should be enough, she thought, to create a powerful connection to a parallel universe at the moment of alignment. Montag 5 and Nemo 7 were bringing her the radio, an essential element of her plan, and the girl, who could guarantee success. The alignment would happen tomorrow morning at 5:22 Central Time, just under sixteen hours from now. Montag 5 and Nemo 7 would arrive in New York with plenty of time to spare. And Pilgrim 3 sat in a building that had a history of being a portal—even though no new objects had appeared here in nearly a century. If she removed the club’s collection of UFOs from the protection of the copper-lined vault, arranged them in the room where Elizabeth X had found a mysterious newspaper in 1943, turned on the radio and had the girl, she should be able to create a portal. And if she did all of this in front of certain scientifically inclined members of the press, she would create the sort of fame that would keep her name in physics textbooks a thousand years hence.

So why was she so angry about the loss of one UFO? It wasn’t solely the fact that Gatsby the Great had appeared on Maxwell’s Island—a place, she suspected from having spied on certain interactions Harry Maxwell had with other members, that had a closer connection to a parallel universe than anywhere else on earth.

Pilgrim 3 felt a strong personal connection to Gatsby the Great. She, like Harry Maxwell, had an uncanny ability to detect UFOs. It was what had first led her to the Paradox Club. When she had joined as an undergraduate (only Harry Maxwell had been younger when he had been initiated), she had no particular interest in physics. She might have studied biology or political science or even followed her passion for theater. But one day, on her first trip to New York to see a Broadway show, she had been walking on the Upper East Side when she felt a pull—that was the only way she could think to describe it, as if someone had attached a rope to her chest and was dragging her toward the door of the unassuming brownstone near the end of the block. Without any understanding of what she was doing, she’d knocked on the door and told the woman who answered that something was pulling her inside. To her surprise, the woman had admitted her and ushered her into a small room lined with shelves holding several hundred books.

“Pick one,” the woman had said.

“How?” asked Pilgrim 3 (or the young woman about to become Pilgrim 3).

“Just pick one,” the woman had said.

Pilgrim 3 had felt the pull more strongly in this room than out on the sidewalk and she let that force guide her first to a particular bookcase, then to a shelf, and finally to a book that seemed to leap off the shelf into her hand. Gatsby the Great.

“Congratulations,” the woman had said. “You are the newest member of the Paradox Club.”

After that, of course, Pilgrim 3 did study physics. And she always had a soft spot for Gatsby the Great. Because it had drawn her to the Paradox Club, she felt a special connection to the book, and she also believed it the most powerful UFO in the club’s collection. She had read The Great Gatsby in high school, but she read Gatsby the Great over and over, reveling in the disparity between Fitzgerald’s novel in her universe and this alternate version and, of course, delighting in the wildly different ending. What did it say about the universe where this book had originated that Gatsby was still alive at the end of the novel?

As she had risen through the ranks of the Paradox Club, she had kept Gatsby the Great closer and closer. It was the one UFO allowed to stay outside the vault, because it was used to test potential members, just as Pilgrim 3 had been tested. Since becoming keeper of the vault, Pilgrim 3 had often kept the book in her own office and even, on occasion, removed it to her home a few blocks away (in direct contravention of club rules).

So, Pilgrim 3 didn’t care if Gatsby the Great wasn’t strictly necessary to open a portal to another universe. She wanted that book in her hand tomorrow when she became the most famous person in the world, and she was goddamn well going to find it.

STAKEOUT

The president of the Paradox Club slumped behind the wheel of his rental car, his head just far enough up to maintain his vigil on Room 8 of the White Pine Motor Lodge across the road. He had only been watching for thirty minutes, but already he struggled to keep his eyes open. After following the black sedan for over four hours and watching it pull into the parking lot of a decrepit roadside motel, Richard had taken up his post, parked to the side of a derelict gas station across the narrow highway. Much of the car was hidden by a pile of old tires, and Richard was fairly certain that if Montag 5 had any idea he was being followed, he’d have marched across the street and confronted Richard by now. It was past time for his afternoon nap, but he continued to sit and watch, dreaming of hot coffee.

Richard Pollard, aka Calvin 4, had never been a fan of guns. He had seen (or if not seen, read about) too much violence in his time to believe that guns solved problems. He knew they created problems. He sat, unarmed, wondering how he could help Tess. Even if he had owned a gun, he wouldn’t have used it. He knew too much could go wrong if he took a shot at Montag 5. The bullet could ricochet and hit Vivian. Montag 5 could drop his gun, and it could discharge, hitting Tess. He could miss altogether, and Montag 5 could return fire and hit…anyone. And suppose Richard did successfully eliminate Montag 5 with gunfire? What then? Did he leave a dead body on the ground and flee with Vivian and Tess, making them accessories to murder? No, Richard was perfectly happy without the temptation of a gun. For now, he would just have to wait.

Valentine 6 emerged into the sunlight outside the Detroit airport and stepped onto the rental car shuttle. Snug in her pocket was the burner phone she had bought at LaGuardia. She hadn’t dared to use it in New York, convinced that someone must be following her. Even in the crowded airport, she simply put her head down and power walked toward the exit. She looked suspicious enough with no luggage, not even a purse. Even though there was only one other person on the shuttle bus, she still waited. She waited as she stood in line at the rental counter and as she drove out of the airport and toward I-94. She drove for nearly an hour, past the exit for Jackson, checking the rearview mirror every minute or two to try to spot anyone tailing her. Finally, convinced she hadn’t been followed, her paranoia eased and Valentine 6 made the call.

Richard jerked awake to the buzz of his phone in his pocket. How could he have been so foolish as to fall asleep? He glanced across the street, saw the black sedan still in place and breathed a sigh of relief as he wriggled in his seat extricating his phone from his pocket.

“Calvin 4?” said Valentine 6 when Richard answered the phone.

“Where are you?” asked Richard.