by Lee, TD
“You’ll need to stand in for me for a few minutes while I try to find evidence to prove Grania’s
“Me? At the defensive stand? I think not,” Adele refuses immediately.
“Adele, you must! You’re the only one that can do this,” the Prospector says placing his hands on Adele’s shoulders. “Please Adele.”
“Prospector,” Adele sighs, shaking her head, “I’m better at investigating.”
“But you’re also amazing at arguing and defending. I’ve seen it first hand, you’re absolutely fantastic! Remember the word war you had against the Cakatui? You destroyed them without letting them leave with a single shred of mercy. You’re fantastic!”
“Prospector,” Adele sighs again.
“Adele, please. Remember just how brilliant you are. These aren’t a once in a lifetime thing you do, you’re always brilliant. Keep being brilliant,” the Prospector says, doing his absolute best on trying to give Adele a pep talk.
“Fine, but you best be quick with your investigation, the case may be lost by the time you arrive,” Adele says as she’s about to leave.
“What about me?” I ask, a little lost.
“With me, Ridley. We’re going to go on an adventure!” the Prospector answers happily with that usual grin of his.
I mumble quietly, “As if this wasn’t an adventure already.”
“What was that?” the Prospector asks.
“Nothing.”
“We’ll see you soon Adele, have I ever let you down?” the Prospector asks with that cheeky grin of his.
“Once or twice,” Adele replies back with a smile and runs off.
“Alright Ridley! Time to start investigating!” the Prospector announces loudly as he grabs me by my wrist and takes of running while dragging me behind. What’s with all the running when it comes to this guy?
The Prospector takes me back to the hallway where I found Grania in the first place. The room that had its door wide open is taped off with some security guards standing around. There’s straight lines of light that are glowing a violent red around this door. Even the entrance to the bathroom is sealed off from anyone who isn’t authorized.
Without any sort of hesitation, the Prospector approaches the room. Security guards immediately block our way and say with stern voices, “This area is off limits!”
The Prospector grabs something in his jacket and shows it to the security guards. He says with the utmost confidence, “The name is Smith, Detective Smith to be more precise, I’m authorized to investigate any crime scene in all of the galaxy. So if you do not want to be reprimanded, I suggest you step aside.”
“I see, welcome Detective Smith,” one of the guards say. The guards step aside and let the Prospector and I walk through the lights.
Once we’re far away enough from the security guards, I ask the Prospector, “What did you show them?”
The Prospector shows me a blank piece of paper and says, “Inkshifting paper, it shows people what I want them to see. Very useful for sneaking into places that I’m not particularly supposed to be in.”
“That’s awfully convenient,” I remark a bit stunned.
“Well, when you do what I do, you need some useful gadgets at your side,” the Prospector replies with that usual grin.
We approach the room and it’s a rather small conference room with a large table and a couple of chairs. The thing making this room so much more different is the glowing tape on the table that leads the ground signifying where the dead body was. There’s, I think, blood on the table and floor, it’s a weird brownish-pink color.
“Now, time to search! We don’t have much time,” the Prospector says, instantly inspecting every nook and cranny of the room in weird angles and positions that his body can possibly contort.
I guess I can help too, somehow. Not really though, I’m not good at this or anything. Looking around all I can really see are just the typical crime scene things. The tape, blood, and a bit of mess of a room. Now that I’m actually looking closer, there’s some scorch marks on the table where the tape is and on the wall. One of the legs of a chair looks like it was completely burnt off since it’s significantly shorter than the others. Why would those be here?
The few seconds of brief silence is quickly disrupted by the Prospector, “Not much of a talker are you?” He sighs a bit as he continues his investigation. “Well, no matter, if you have nothing to fill in the silence, I definitely do. Let me tell you about-
There this guy goes again, just talking. There’s something up with him, there has to be. It’s like this guy won’t let silence happen ever. It’s strange and unnecessary. What’s wrong with being quiet for a bit?
“Prospector,” I interrupt, “are you afraid of silence?” This guy doesn’t let a single moment go by without talking or having something fill in the silence. He’s always hyperactive and on the go. It just makes me wonder.
“Afraid? No! What a silly thing to be afraid of, silence. Silence is just awkward wouldn’t you think? Just empty air and breathing space for everyone, what’s the point of silence anyway?” he quickly answers, a bit taken aback. He’s lying. He’s obviously lying.
“Prospector,” I repeat, “why are you afraid of silence?”
The Prospector pauses for a bit, that’s the first. He sighs deeply, speaking in a gravely serious tone while he continues searching, “Silence is terrifying. It reminds me of all the times that I’ve failed. If there’s nothing occupying me, I’m simply just remembering all of the times that people have died because of me, my failures, my lack of resolve. Everything that I’ve done that I regret come back to haunt me during silence. Without speaking to others, I just hear myself—yelling and berating me for everything. In silence, all I have is myself and my thoughts. There’s nothing stopping me from remembering in silence.”
“You couldn’t have done that much that you regret,” I reply, a bit shocked by the Prospector’s words. Could he really be as haunted as he sounds?
“I’ve been alive for over nine-hundred years Ridley. There’s a lot in my lifetime that I remember that will come back to haunt me,” the Prospector speaks grimly.
“Nine-hundred? You don’t look a day over thirty,” I joke, trying to lighten up the mood. This is getting a bit too serious and dark for my liking.
A small smile cracks at the edge of the Prospector’s lips. “Believe me Ridley, there’s a lot that these two old, tired eyes have seen. Several wars, some that I induced, some that I quelled, and some that are still ongoing. Death, friends, family, comrades, myself. Many things have happened that I wish I could go back and undo, but I can’t.”
“Isn’t the NEXUS a time traveling machine? You could go back if you wanted to,”
The Prospector shakes his head in disapproval. “No, no. The NEXUS is a time machine, yes, but going back to rewrite history and undo events is forbidden and, could quite literally, make the entire universe implode.”
“But what’s wrong about going back to undo deaths of friends and family?” I ask.
“Do you think I haven’t tried that before? Going back in time to save someone that I love? Did you not think that wasn’t my first thought and action? I was young and naïve at one point. I thought I had all of the power to do everything I needed, but I found out that power comes with a terrible price,” the Prospector says a bit angered and annoyed. He quickly unbuttons one of the top buttons of his shirt and pulls down.
Forever grossly scarred on the Prospector’s chest is a large, blackish-purple spider web-like scar that looks like it’s deeply embedded into the Prospector’s skin. There’s a slight glow that adds to its eeriness. Rhythmically, any nearby veins or arteries will slightly glow as well, matching the Prospector’s rapid heartbeat.
“H-how did that happen?” I ask, a bit afraid to find out.
The Prospector quickly buttons back up while answering me, “Let’s just say the Grim Reaper doesn’t like it when you cheat it out on death.”
“The Grim Reape
r?” I question.
“The one and only. Nice fellow typically, but definitely a stubborn one,” the Prospector chuckles a bit, “got me good he did, took the ones I loved with him too.”
“But couldn’t you have gone back?” I ask.
The Prospector shakes his head, a small, bitter smile forms on his lips. “That’s not the point Ridley, even if you have the means to, you can’t just go back in time just to get what you want. As much as you want it, you have to accept it. Death is just a part of life, trying to stop or prolong it will only cause more suffering.”
“But-”
“Ridley, I know what you want. You’ve lost someone close to you and you wish for me to go back to prevent their death. I understand what you’re going through, but death is a fixed situation in time. No matter who it is, they shouldn’t keep living if time itself deems it so. That’s just the grim reality of life,” the Prospector explains as bluntly as he could.
“But heroes get resurrected and brought back to life all the time back on Earth, how is that any different?” I ask, not noticing that might voice got louder.
The Prospector sighs sadly, answering, “There’s equal compensation for most resurrections. Collecting seven items, human sacrifices, blood pacts, contracts with the devil, whatever it may be, it’s equal compensation for a life to come back.” He grabs something from the ground, it looks like a really charred piece of wood, and carefully examines it while he continues to talk to me. “Coming back from the dead isn’t a fantastic thing either, according to some of my sources. Being ripped away from where you are in the afterlife. I mean, I’m sure if you were in some sort of unpleasant afterlife, if you believe in it of course, then it wouldn’t be that bad, but imagine being somewhere amazing and just being pulled back into reality. It’s not pleasant I would imagine.”
“Wh-why are you telling me all of this?” I ask.
“At first I was wondering why Adele had you come with her, but all is clear. You’ve lost someone close to you, you’ve probably thought with so many possibilities of bringing them back that you’d want me to help you with that once you found out what the NEXUS is. Adele foresaw this and most likely wanted me to talk to you. That wily woman,” the Prospectors explains with that usual grin of his.
“But it is possible,” I slowly murmur.
“Possible? Yes. Probable? No. There’s more danger in attempting what you want than letting life just live its course. The number one rule to time traveling is not to disrupt the flow of time. You may not want to hear this Ridley, but your desire to bring your loved one back is one that’s not probable. Even if you had the means to do it, it doesn’t mean it’ll actually happen. It can even go wrong. I hate to be the one to quash your dreams or goals, but it’s one that’s not going to happen, not with the way you want it to happen. Granted, if you find a way to do it that doesn’t cause the Grim Reaper to come after you, then you could. It’s not wise, Ridley, it really isn’t though,” the Prospector replies with a serious tone.
“But I don’t care what happens to me, I have nothing to contribute to anything. My best friend would do so much more than me!” I exclaim. My fists hit my thighs as I can feel the tears welling up at the edge of my eyes.
“Then be someone that your best friend would be proud of! Do you think your best friend would be acting like this? Make them proud, honor them,” the Prospector says as straightforward as he possibly could.
“But I can’t! I’m not anyone special! I have nothing special, I’m just some person that can’t do anything!” I angrily reply.
“So it’s true then,” the Prospector sighs. I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder. I look up and the Prospector’s eyes stare at me sadly, “Ridley, stop telling yourself that.”
“But-”
“No, stop telling yourself whatever it is that you’re telling yourself. Ridley, listen to me. Everyone has potential for something amazing including you, whether you know it or not. It may take some time for you to know what amazing thing you can do, but it’s possible. It’s up to you whether or not you actually do something with that potential you have. It’s up to you to try to make that difference a positive one. You have the means to make the impact, but it all starts with yourself,” he says and pokes my chest, “a great way to start is to finally realize who you are.”
“Prospector,” I mumble. What’s with this positive advising this guy is giving me? What potential? There’s nothing in me.
“There is something there,” the Prospector says as if he can read my mind. “Ridley, tell me about yourself—and don’t say you’re just a nobody. Truly, describe yourself to me.”
“Sh-shouldn’t we focus more on finding evidence to help Grania,” I say, trying to take the focus off of me. This is weird. Why does he want me to talk about myself?
“You’re right, we don’t have much time left. I don’t know how well Adele is stalling right now, but I imagine she’s doing pretty well. Let’s put this conversation on hold,” the Prospector says, standing up., holding the charred piece. “Have you noticed anything in particular?”
I shake my head, scanning the room again. “Not really, all I’ve noticed are these scorch marks on weird places, nothing completely strange for a crime scene,” I answer.
“Scorch marks?” the Prospector asks. I point to the table, wall, and chair.
“Ah! Splendid work Ridley!” the Prospector says with a wide grin. He kneels down next to the chair and holds the charred piece up to it. “As I suspected, a perfect fit!”
“What does that mean though?” I ask. Sure maybe the piece that the Prospector’s been holding goes to the chair, but that seems irrelevant.
The Prospector climbs and lies down on the table, his head next to where the scorch marks are. He takes a finger and traces the scorch marks. He looks at the wall and hurriedly moves over to it, leaning his entire body on it. “My-my, if this was anything else, I would suggest this would be a peephole.”
“Peep hole?” I question. None of this is making sense to me.
The Prospector sticks his pinky into the hole. The hole isn’t very big as his pinky is stopped short. “Quite fascinating indeed. Hmm,” the Prospector hums as he continues his search. Without saying anything to me, he walks out of the room.
I confusedly follow the Prospector who walks over to the bathrooms. He inspects one of the walls really closely. There’s scorch marks on this wall too. The Prospector traces the scorch marks with his finger again.
“Ah, I see,” the Prospector mumbles with his usual grin. He takes a phone out and quickly takes a picture of the wall with the scorch marks. I don’t know what’s weirder to me. That the Prospector will just stick fingers into places or that he has a normal looking phone.
The Prospector pops back up onto his legs and moves back into the room. I don’t follow him completely in as he takes a quick picture of the scorch marks of the wall, table, and chair of this room. Before he walks out he takes a picture of the wall next to the door then quickly walks back out. “Alright, let’s go to Adele!” he says happily. He grabs me by the arm again and we get back to the running.
We run all the way to the courtroom and the Prospector tackles the doors open. The door opening echoes loudly throughout the courtroom. All eyes are on us, but the Prospector speaks with absolute confidence and even a chuckle that doesn’t amuse anyone except Adele, “Sorry, sorry, so sorry, what did I miss?”
The Judge speaks in a dangerously serious tone, “You realize this is my courtroom correct?”
“Yes, yes, sorry about that!” the Prospector replies back without a single shred of shame. The floor beneath us rises and we match up to Adele.
Adele looks over and smiles at us, but it also doesn’t look like she’s in any sort of panic. Rather, she looks like she’s doing pretty good, there’s confidence in her posture right now. She’s calm, composed, her usual. Grania is still in the cage thing floating in front of the judge.
“Care to fill me in?” the Prospector as
ks loudly, but specifically more towards Adele that he nudges with his shoulder a bit.
“Yes. We have established that the murder weapon is a firearm. Model is called Locust-15. It can use many different types of ammunition. It fires lethal ionic energy bullets. It has been established that it was fired five times,” Adele begins explaining. An image pops up of the gun in front of me and the Prospector. It’s a shiny, sleek looking device that has glowing blue lines on the side. It doesn’t really look like a gun at first glance, it has a handle and a trigger, but the barrel is an ovular shape and is squished into a dome. It’s strange, but I guess it fits for an alien planet.
“Grania’s fingerprints are indeed on the murder weapon. There is security footage of her actually going into the room where the victim was found and murdered before she went into the bathroom. Not long after Grania goes back to the room with the murder weapon. These are the most incriminating evidence that has been found to implicate Grania,” Adele continues. The screen changes into security footage that is focused on the bathroom and the other meeting rooms. As Adele said, we can see Grania walking into view of the camera. She turns her head into the same room the crime scene is at and briefly walks in. Not long after she walks out and into the bathroom. There is a flash of light coming from the bathroom which doesn’t say much.
“And the victim?” the Prospector asks.
Adele answers, “Autopsy on the deceased body. One shot straight through the heart, effectively killing the victim immediately. It’s estimated that the bullet was about four centimeters in diameter. The victim is prosecutor Kapros.”
“What?” I say. I look over at the prosecution and it’s an alien mouse man with large ears and light gray fur and glasses. I think this guy was sitting with Kapros before. He looks really irritated.
“I see,” the Prospector mumbles.
“Grania said she did accidentally fire the weapon upon picking it up which is what the flash of light is on the footage,” Adele explains. “The prosecution claims that the brief moment that Grania was in that room is to shoot the victim. I questioned as to why she would do such a thing in that span of time. So the current subject in question is why Grania went in there. If I were you I would bring question to the inconsistency with the autopsy as well as anything else you found during your investigation.”
