by Chris Ramos
Cole took the challenge and scooted in very close. Any excuse to be so close to her was good enough for him. He glanced down and noticed her writing was very fluid. The letters were individual pieces of art. She turned the page and passed the notebook to Cole. The blank page was intimidating. She handed him the pen. It felt awkward in his hand, heavy and unwieldy.
“Well, go ahead,” Emma prodded.
“I don’t know how to write. I already said that,” Cole moaned in resignation.
“You don’t have to write, you can draw. The pen is yours.”
“So, what have you drawn?” Cole flipped to the front of her book. Emma tried to pull it back. Cole playfully tackled her, rolling while he kept the book aloft. He jumped up, keeping his back to Emma.
Cole dodged Emma’s flailing arms, and quickly flipped through her sketchpad.
He saw pictures of the LifeSpan weather towers, measurements of buildings, drawings of the Collectors, a floating city in the clouds, pages full of expiration dates.
Emma pulled the book from his hands, and stuffed it in her bag.
She didn’t seem angry, only quiet, which could be the same thing.
Well, that was awkward. This would be a good time for a distraction, Cole thought.
As if on cue, his digiscreen began buzzing.
Cole returned to his crumpled jacket and pulled his digiscreen free. The incoming request was coming from his office.
Emma stood with him and dusted off her pants. As she bent down to check her shoes, she looked around the park, noticing a familiar couple across from them. It was the same couple who had been walking behind her earlier today. They happened to settle at the same spot, with an entire park around them?
Not likely. Emma thought she was being too nervous. Better to get Cole away from here, where she could talk to him, where she could tell him . . .
Tell him what? The truth? He had seen her notes. Maybe it was time.
It was worth a shot. She turned to take his hand. Cole was talking to the digiscreen, apparently deciding not to ignore his work after all.
“Hello, Cole, this is Associate Cordovan. You are working on the Gordon account, aren’t you?” Cole’s managing director was on the digicall.
“Yes, I have been assigned to their case for over six months now.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I called you. I know today is your absence day, but the Gordon representatives are here and need to review the latest change to their agreement. Can you return to the office?”
“Well . . .” Cole looked at Emma. “I’m kinda busy right now. Could they come back tomorrow?”
“I understand you are enjoying the day, but I see the need to rephrase my earlier request.” Associate Cordovan’s voice became stern. “Cole, come down to the office. I will see you soon.”
Cole removed the curved earpiece and began chewing on the inside of his cheek, thinking about the conversation. He didn’t want to end his day with Emma. If he went to work, he could easily get stuck there, with other projects always popping up when he walked in the door. He wanted to ask her about the drawings. He wanted the truth this time. Unfortunately, he was a company man.
“Umm, I have to go to the office, real quick. It’s not going to take long at all. We can be back here before you know it. Is that alright?” Cole looked up at her. “Do you want to come with me real quick?”
“No, thanks, I’ll just stay here.” Emma looked like she was unsure of her surroundings. “Just come back and get me when you’re done.”
“It’ll only take a second, and if you come with me, I can tell them I have to get back.”
“The perfect excuse,” Emma agreed.
Their walk to the LifeSpan Division Four building was awkward. Emma was looking over her shoulder more often than usual. Cole had questions, but didn’t ask them. He was disappointed his perfect day needed to be put on hold, especially to go in to work. Another thing concerned him. Associate Cordovan could easily have pulled their information and uploaded the files for the Gordon representatives. He really didn’t need to call Cole. Maybe there was something else they needed from him, which was precisely the cause for his discomfort. He’d rather stay with Emma.
Eventually making their way to his work, there were others coming back from lunch or appointments. The scanners in the doorframes alerted each member entering the facility. “Hello Michael, you have received three new messages during your recorded lunch absence,” the robotic voice chimed when another employee walked under the scanner. “Hello Lisa, your children are waiting in the lobby. They were excused early from institutional instruction.”
Emma tried to hang back and just wait outside, not comfortable with the scanners.
Cole brought her to the side entrance without the voice alerts, and they entered the lobby.
“Thank you for coming, Cole. We actually need your assistance down here.” Mr. Stratus walked up to meet the couple. Associate Cordovan and his assistant also spotted Cole, and they walked to join the group, watching Emma.
“But all my work is upstairs, my digifiles and passwords.”
“You won’t need those today. Who is your friend, Cole?” Mr. Stratus prompted.
“Oh, this is Emma.” He looked over and she began to back up slowly, glancing left and right.
“Yes, Emma, the pleasure is all mine.” Mr. Stratus extended his hand.
She did not take it.
“Do you work here? You look familiar.” Associate Cordovan was standing on her left with his assistant on Emma’s right side.
The lobby was bustling with employees and workers. The crowds curved around the group. Emma noticed every stare. Some were pointing at her and Cole.
“No, sir, you must have me mistaken for someone else,” Emma replied.
“She doesn’t work here. I brought her. Can we continue to the problem?” Cole tried to step between the workers and continue to the hall.
“Cole, I need your digiscreen. Just for records, of course. The body scanner has an awfully long line. Is that why you avoided it?” he asked with a smirk aimed only for Emma.
Cole produced his personal digiscreen, unlocked the identification screen, and handed it over to the associate.
Emma felt the hair stand on the back of her neck.
Associate Cordovan reviewed the screen.
Cole R. Jenkins
Subject Number. 7759-03
Expiration. 18980.13.8.3
The other two men closed in around Emma.
“May I see your identification?” Associate Cordovan smirked again, turning to face her directly. Emma raised her chin to look him in the eyes. His breath smelled and his posture was lazy, standing there with his hand stretched to her, palm facing up. Emma didn’t like the way he was demeaning her. The smug, ugly, stinking associate.
“Sure, I have it here somewhere.” Emma began to slip her backpack off her shoulder.
“I can save you some time.” Mr. Stratus pulled out a silver disc from his inside pocket faster than Emma could react, and as she looked up, it flashed a red light over her entire face, burning an after-image in her vision as her eyesight began to readjust.
He scanned my eyes. I wasn’t expecting that; I’ll give him that much, Emma’s thoughts raced. And I thought this day was going so well.
She curled her toes inside her shoes, stretched her fingers and rolled her head back and forth, loosening her neck muscles. Her eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.
“Jennifer A. Jackson. Subject Number 263-551.” The robotic voice bleeped out the scan results from the silver disc. “Expired.”
Mr. Stratus raised his head, mouth agape. Cole didn’t have a chance to soak in the information before Emma lashed out.
Emma rocked back on her left heel, snapping her right foot up into the face of the associate to her left. Squatting down and pivoting inside his reach, she sprang up from her crouch and caught the bottom of his chin with her elbow. He was holding Cole’s digiscreen and it flew into the air, landing with a
snap. Somewhere in the back of Cole’s mind, he lamented the broken screen, but it went unnoticed as he continued to stare at Emma’s twirling. She was suddenly so graceful, and deadly.
Both men fell back, scrambling to get out of the wild woman’s way. These men were sloths. Emma moved faster than they could track.
Cole was frozen in place as he watched Emma move about, springing, whirling and ultimately slamming her fingers into Mr. Stratus’s neck, her hand stiffened like a wedge. Two other administrators ran across the lobby, losing heart as Emma spun to them, her fingers locked in the deadly wedge and angled at their heads. Her eyes begged for their attack. They turned back and ran, screaming, “Attack! We are being attacked!”
“A girl lost her mind!” trailed down the corridor.
Suddenly, Emma was in front of Cole, and he didn’t know if he was her next target. He barely recognized the look on her face. It was intense, a burning hatred that slowly faded away as she relaxed her hands and posture.
“Cole, we should leave now,” she said, pulling on his hand and heading for the door.
He pulled free and stopped walking. “What just happened here? Is your name Emma, or is it Jennifer? What were you—”
“Cole, I know you are confused. I need time to explain, but we have to leave, now!”
“Hold on, I need to get my digiscreen.”
“It’s broken, smashed when the fighting began. Leave it, Cole, you have no need for it anymore.” Emma reached for him.
“But you hit them! They’re my bosses. You can’t do that, you . . . have . . .” Cole incoherently continued mumbling as he surveyed her damage.
She grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Cole tripped over the associate’s body, rolling along the ground. Not from injury, Cole noticed. He must have been all nanohealed, but he was trying to get away from them. He was afraid.
This could seriously hurt my chance for a promotion, Cole thought. Although, I don’t recall any wording to prohibit employees from chopping the associate in the throat. Well, I never thought I would have to bring that up in our morning sessions. If it was the—
“Cole!” Emma broke him from another trailing thought. “Stand up!”
She was dragging me? When did that happen? Cole got his feet under him, pulled his clothes straight, pushed back his hair and shot Emma a hurt expression for his injured pride. A small crowd had gathered, whispering to each other with shocked expressions as others told them what had transpired in the lobby. Emma and Cole squeezed their way through the stunned crowd and out the entrance, eliciting some dirty glances.
Walking at a brisk pace, descending the front steps, Cole was numb as he was pulled along by Emma. Other employees had crowded on the steps, continuing to gawk at the pair, but were even further stunned when four Collectors came crashing into the crowd, their bulky white coats a stark contrast from the lightly dressed workers. A quick scan of the street gave the Collectors their quarry: a woman pushing through the crowd and dragging a disheveled man behind her. Their urgency was evidence enough.
“You two! HALT!” Their booming voices erupted through the air like a thunderbolt. The command was amplified by the vocal devices worn in their collar. Often used for parades and stadium events, rarely did they activate this ability near a crowd. The unfortunate citizens who were standing near the Collectors grabbed at their ears, ducking away from the blare.
Emma and Cole stopped and turned as the Collectors began walking down the front steps.
“What do Collectors want with us? It’s not our time to . . . ,” Cole was mumbling, trying to piece the last few moments together, his mind spinning. Emma was pulling hard on his arm.
“Cole, we have to leave!” Her voice was shrill. “They will not understand.”
“Understand? What is there to believe anymore? I’m not even sure I understand!” Cole pulled away from her grasp. “But I do not intend on going any farther without an explanation.”
“I said I will explain later, and I will, I promise, but we need—”
“I’m staying here. I’m not going with you. You lied to me.” Cole crossed his arms, planted both feet steadily on the ground and gave a quick nod, jaw set. It was a childish gesture, but Emma would have to laugh later.
A part of her was glad Cole was developing a backbone, but now was not the time.
“Cole, please, believe me.” Emma looked over his shoulder and saw that the Collectors had reached the bottom of the stairs and were walking towards them. She had less than a minute, at best. Unless they ran.
“Cole, I know about your mother’s journal,” Emma revealed.
“How? I’ve never talked about it.” His shock was genuine.
“She worked with us,” Emma gave away.
“Nice try, but she didn’t work with anybody. She preferred to be alone with her worries and her conspiracies,” Cole said.
Emma had no choice but to lay it all on the line.
“Cole, I’m part of the Movement against LifeSpan. They are corrupt; you have to believe me. I will tell you more. Please, trust what I say.” She looked over his shoulder again and the Collectors had stopped walking about fifty feet away. They were waiting for her next move, slowly distancing themselves from each other. Spreading out in an exaggerated arc, the four Collectors would attempt to surround them and close in. Emma was running out of time; she had to make Cole trust her, but how could he? She knew he felt betrayed, but they were in real trouble, and she had to find a way out. How did it come this far?
The booming Collector’s electronic voice reverberated through the air. “End your discussion. Separate yourselves. Sit down on the ground. You will be questioned,” the lead Collector said in a slow voice that sounded like a rusted boat being pulled onto shore. Boy, is he ugly looking, Emma thought.
Cole looked back at the Collectors, and knew he should sit down. He glanced at Emma, or Jennifer. He had so many questions, but he needed answers, especially about the journal. His heart made up his mind for him, and he would regret it later.
“How fast can you run?” he whispered.
Thank you, Cole. Emma smiled mischievously. “Faster than you. Follow me.”
Suddenly, they both turned their backs on the Collectors and ran full speed. Emma had a quick lead, the wind whipping her hair back into Cole’s face.
Cole tried to keep pace with her and it was all he could do to keep up with her long gait. She ran as gracefully as a gazelle while Cole hit the ground thumping hard, feeling like he was making very poor progress. He expected a Collector to grab the back of his shirt and risked a look behind him.
The four Collectors unbuttoned their full-length white trench coats, revealing an X brace strapped across their chest. The straps ran over their shoulders and under their arms, connecting to a metal disc placed in the center of their chest. Turning the disc, the air hummed around them. The lead Collector looked up and across the street to the shimmering line of metal along the rooftops of the city and reached both hands out. In a flash, the Collectors were pulled along the street, easily twice as fast as Cole was running. Dirt, leaves, branches and even gawkers standing along the street were pushed to the side as an invisible humming ozone was left in the Collectors’ wake.
Emma looked back and saw them gaining quickly. Great, they’re charged, she cursed. She grabbed Cole’s arm and quickly cut to the right, falling and rolling down a hill, heading toward the park, away from the buildings.
“Hurry, Cole, we have to get out of town,” she started to explain. “They use the metal strips along the buildings to pull themselves along!”
Now they were crossing a large field. Families enjoying relaxing picnics were startled to see the couple running frantically across the grass, looking behind them as much as forward. Cole stumbled constantly, not at all used to running for so long. Emma was barely tired and seemed to be running faster as time passed.
Finally they reached the pier leading out to the Titus Ocean. Cole remembered coming down to this pier with his
parents, skipping rocks along the shore and feeding swarms of seagulls circling the sunbathers. Today the pier was all but abandoned. Even the seagulls seemed to have found a better spot to patrol, farther down the beach.
“Quickly, Cole, under the pier.” Emma was shielding her eyes from the sun, trying to look back to the city, squinting with the effort. Were they still after us?
“What could possibly be under this pier?” Cole was on his knees, looking under the metal and wood paneled dock, but could only see glittering salt deposits coating the underside, accompanied by the endless lapping waves around the posts.
“No, Cole, we have to go under the pier, into the water.” Emma looked back one last time and, frustrated with his continuing apprehension, kicked his rump, sending Cole into the water face first.
With one last look towards the city, she jumped in after him.
PRAETOR
Nimbus sat quietly in his chambers, legs crossed, breathing methodically through his meditation routine. In this relaxed state, eyes shut lightly, he thought of the past, replaying events that shaped his company, seeking insight from his failures and planning new ventures.
The entrance to his study opened slowly, and his assistant’s head peeked into the room. Looking around and finally seeing Nimbus on the floor, she blushed slightly and began to withdraw.
“Enter.” Nimbus opened his eyes as he turned his head towards the door.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there seems to be an urgent message from the Praetor in Sector 655, sire.” She stood taller with each word, as if the delivery of important information made her most proud.
Nimbus rose slowly, in perfect balance, and smoothed the front of his loose fitting meditation tunic.
“That will be enough. I shall take the call.” Nimbus waved his hand in the air, a gesture of brushing away a small fly. His messenger understood the meaning and instantly ducked back into the hall and closed the door softly behind her.
