by C. S Luis
5
Visitor
We walked out into the parking lot; Mr. Claypool right alongside me.
“Slow down, Claudia,” he said as he hurried to keep up with me.
We went through the large metal doors, down the steps, and nearly walked into a tall black man in a black suit, wearing dark glasses. For some reason, I couldn’t help but find him intriguing. He excused himself politely, nodding and smiling warmly as he moved aside and continued on his way up the steps on the side building. I noticed he had left his black SUV parked right outside the side entrance. I assumed it was his since it was a nice vehicle, well-kept with dark, tinted windows. A complete mystery, like him.
I looked in his direction. I couldn’t help but stare curiously.
There was something about him, though. For one thing, I couldn’t read him as clearly as I could hear Mr. Claypool’s thoughts; the stranger was nothing but distorted sounds.
It reminded of my encounter with Mr. Slater when I tried to read his mind the first time and could only hear distorted noise. Maybe my adventure with the pipes in the bathroom had knocked me back to myself. Or maybe it had been whatever had happened afterward that I still couldn’t quite remember. And, at that moment, I didn’t think I wanted to.
I tried to get a closer glance as Mr. Claypool unlocked his car doors. Before I climbed in, I watched the man disappear into the building. I was curious to know where he was heading, in fact, I wanted so badly to follow him. I wondered if he was here to see Michael. He looked like someone important.
I was frozen in place until Jimmy stepped out and our eyes met. He looked sadly over at me, hoping to get my attention. I wrinkled my lip over at him and got into the car with Mr. Claypool. I didn’t want to talk to him, I just wanted to go home.
Jimmy watched as Mr. Claypool’s car pulled out of the parking lot with Claudia in it. She looked in his direction then turned her head away. But he noticed that perhaps it was the SUV parked on the side of the school near the entrance that she was looking at.
Before he stepped out into the parking lot, he had caught sight of the large black man with the black suit and dark tie walking down the hallway. The man nudged his head over at Jimmy in greeting, and the teen nodded his head back in response. There was something strange about the man. Something he found familiar about his way of dressing. Like a school uniform one was accustomed to seeing in other places. The man passed Jimmy, as he walked with confidence towards the end of the corridor. He couldn’t place what he found more familiar, the man’s glasses, or the way he was dressed, but there was a sense of similarity he was used to.
Where was he going? What could he want here? Jimmy wondered. If the man was who he suspected him to be, then why was he here? It troubled him, but then again, he wasn’t sure of the man’s identity. Jimmy turned only once before he exited the building, leaving the stranger inside.
Jimmy opened the door of his car and got in. He sat there for a moment wondering about what had happened to Claudia. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know what the portal or vortex that had opened meant. It was the strangest thing he had ever been part of. But it hadn’t been the first time he’d heard about one.
Had Michael really not seen it? It was right in front of both them and Claudia seemed to be heading toward it. She might have been killed if he hadn’t grabbed her arm and pulled her off the ledge before she dropped to the ground below.
A long time ago, he had heard his father talk about portals and vortexes in a private meeting. When he had been a curious boy spying outside his father’s office door. They talked about other worldly things, like aliens, and despite that, he had never thought much about it.
He found it intriguing. Now he was far more curious; could that vortex be an entrance to another worldly planet? But how had it appeared and why?
What did aliens or other worldly beings have to do with what his father’s company did? His father’s company developed pharmaceutical drugs - experimental drugs. They also dabbled in the chemical weapons area and were involved with governmental agencies.
Now the additional talk of aliens; that had been different. He knew about everything else, he knew because as a boy he hadn’t always been well. His father’s company had specialized in a drug that saved his life, and it had been that which had afterward caused the distance between his father and his mother.
He didn’t understand that. He had moved and ended up in Milton and by luck had met the beautiful Claudia Belle. Nothing mattered now. He felt that if he had Claudia in his life, nothing else mattered. Not his father trying to buy him with gifts, or his mother talking about how bad his father was for doing what he did. Which he didn’t understand.
But he didn’t care. Jimmy turned on his car, he would wait for Michael’s or Claudia’s call. Then and only then, he would go to her house with flowers and candy. No, he couldn’t buy her with that. He’d take her to dinner, a very fancy restaurant and buy her a beautiful dress she could wear for the occasion.
Jimmy smiled; he knew exactly the place to go to dinner and thought of the shop where he would get the dress. He would surprise her with a new dress; a beautiful girl needed a new dress for prom. Especially his girlfriend. He liked the sound of that. Claudia Belle had his heart.
6
The Superintendent
Bryce leaned an elbow on the desk. The movement ruffled some pages, crinkling paper and clacking together some plastic cases. He looked down at one of them; a CD labeled with a black marker. The lines were thin, neat; his own handwriting in the code that he’d designed. To an outsider, it would seem to be nothing more than the innocuous business dealings of a school superintendent. Student scores, demographics, and the likes. Only he knew the truth. The code was created for this particular assignment; a mission that had unforeseen peculiarities. John was having a mind of his own again.
Bryce sighed, lifting his elbow and reaching for the desk drawer. As he pulled it out, it stuck for a moment. Frowning, he pulled harder. The wood squeaked but ultimately came free.
The drawer was a front. It could have belonged to anyone with its array of loose paperclips, a few ballpoint pens, a pad of paper. People rarely looked beneath the surface. Bryce counted on that. Even The Company was victim to this particular human failing of never looking beyond what was in front of them. Even when they thought they were the ones behind it all. There was always someone behind. Bryce made certain of that. No one knew how deep the well went.
Except for him.
He unscrewed one of the ballpoint pens and tipped it into the small hole underneath the drawer. The false bottom came loose, revealing the few documents that he wanted to make sure no one else saw.
One of his devices skittered around the drawer, looking for all intents and purposes like a robotic spider. He let it latch its legs onto his finger; it knew him and soon moved back to the dark corner of the drawer. It would be waiting should anyone find the hidden compartment. He pulled out the stack of papers and discs, flipping through them. These results were not what he wanted, not at all.
It was time to make a call.
Bryce swiveled in his chair, pulling up his computer. He lay his hand on the mouse, clicking through the various screens until he found the one he was looking for. There he was: the man he’d put in charge of the high school. He was chatting with someone who was not in view of the camera. Bryce tweaked the control. He still couldn’t get a clear picture. A few adjustments and he saw her.
He recognized her; Michael’s adopted daughter, John’s obsession, and the thorn in his side. She had enchanted John in some manner. Was John exhibiting normal human capabilities? He had to make notes on this.
He took out his small notebook from the side of his coat. Bryce began writing before clearly seeing Miss Belle, yes that was her name, Claudia Belle, moving away to the door. He had missed a portion of the encounter. Something interesting seemed to have happened before he operated the camera. Had it? Why was she in Michael’s offi
ce? She looked distressed and confused but perhaps far angrier.
It didn’t matter, perhaps his appointment with Michael would bring him better results. The spider camera adjusted to the left then angled onto the side carefully without making any sounds. There was another person in view of the camera; a man with very little blond hair on his head.
He watched the blond man open the office door. When he did, a young man was standing outside the office. Interesting; who was he? He seemed to be involved in a quarrel with Miss Belle. She passed him on her way out of the office. Michael had a few words with him before the young man wandered out into the outer office to stand. He was out of angles; he could no longer see him. Chaos?
Michael was left standing at the entrance of his office. After seeing them out the door, he slowly walked back to his desk and took his seat. He looked tired and overworked.
Bryce reached for the phone, shifting a stack of papers that were pressed up against the receiver. He pressed the speaker key and listened as the dial tone began to fill his office. He knew the number by heart. Each key he pressed toned its sound into the void, triggering the encoded line that he’d designed for contingencies such as these. The secretary answered the phone on the third ring.
“Milton High, Dr. Michael McClellan’s office, this is Mrs. Wallace, how can I help you?” There was a pause as his slim lip folded slightly. He couldn’t see her but he knew he would surely have her sweating underneath that silk blouse. He had a gift for doing this to countless others.
“Dr. McClellan please.” He softly said.
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Why of course, please advise Dr. McClellan, that Dr. Heinrich, the Superintendent would like to speak with him.”
There was a pause before the woman replied in a shaky voice. “Oh, Dr. Heinrich, yes, of course, sir. Please let me put him on the line immediately.”
Bryce grimaced. He held the phone close and observed the screen; he saw the secretary walk into Michael’s office. She nervously hovered near the entrance then slowly made her way in, revealing what frightened her to Michael, who had curiously gazed over at her when she had first appeared in the doorway. Now he seemed to understand her uneasiness.
“Hello Superintendent, I apologize for the wait.”
“No trouble at all Michael...”
A clatter on the line, Michael fumbled with the phone. “Ah, this is unexpected. Not that it’s a problem to hear from you, sir. What can I help you with?”
“I need you to meet with me. We need to discuss some of the recent occurrences at the school.”
A pause. Bryce tapped at the camera and zoomed in on his face, confusion. Good. “I’m not sure what else I could tell you in person, sir, I know you are very busy. If you could just make a request to the school board concerning the repairs...”
“You need to learn to play politics a little bit more, Michael; you know how these things go. I’ll send my man to pick you up around six.” Bryce didn’t give him the opportunity to respond.
He could see Michael’s reaction to the click on the other end of the line, the way he moved his head away from the phone as though he’d been hit. Slowly, he put the receiver down. Bryce watched him, dialing up the audio on the surveillance camera. He’d missed the question the secretary asked, but watched her now as she approached from the outside office and stood in Michael’s doorway.
“What did he want?” Bryce heard her ask.
“It’s nothing, just a meeting with the superintendent. School business, nothing to be concerned about.” Bryce smiled and leaned back into his chair. This dinner was likely to be extremely lucrative after all.
“He invited me to dinner.” He looked shocked.
“Dinner?” the secretary said.
Bryce noticed her expression questioned the reasons for his invitation. And Michael had no answer for her.
“Yes, I know,” Bryce smiled.
“What do you think he wants?” she asked.
“I have no idea. A lot has happened…” She nodded. He wanted them to reveal some new information, not talk about what he already knew, Bryce thought.
“The sink hole,” he heard Michael say.
“Mr. Slater…” the secretary suggested. Bryce crinkled his eyes. Ah, Mr. Slater; interesting. What else would they reveal about his assigned Hunter?
“Are you worried?” she asked Michael. Bryce listened carefully. Worried? Should Michael be worried? His slim lip curved slightly.
“I think it’s okay,” he heard Michael say to her. Was he trying to convince her or was he trying to convince himself? Why would he be worried Bryce wondered yet again. Was he indeed hiding something apart from the obvious? Something Bryce didn’t know.
“When is this dinner?” The secretary asked Michael.
“Tonight. Right now, he’s sending someone for me.” Michael answered.
Bryce smirked. ‘I most certainly am.’
Ah, he liked to keep everyone on their toes. These mere people were fun to watch, especially when he tossed their world upside down as he was doing now.
7
The Man in Black
It was only a brief moment later; Michael sat in his office when Mrs. Wallace walked in. She looked nervous. Michael glanced up at her. She opened her mouth to speak but didn't get the chance as a tall, suited black man appeared at the entrance and was now standing alongside her. The tall black man wore a nice black suit with a navy tie and was wearing dark shades, which he removed almost immediately. He seemed very professional; far more than Michael’s most professional assistant principal but in a manner just like John Slater when he appeared in front of him the first time they met.
Michael looked over, finding the stranger now entering and stopping a few steps from the entrance, with Mrs. Wallace nervously staring back at him as if to say ‘sir, we have a guest’. He swore that’s what must have escaped her mouth, but the words were a mere whisper he failed to hear. And so, it was the stranger who spoke instead of her, or at least for her.
“Dr. McClellan?”
“Yes?” Michael asked, suddenly giving him his full attention.
“Forgive me for the intrusion, Dr. McClellan.” Michael rose from behind his desk.
“My name is Jonas, I’m Dr. Heinrich’s assistant.” Michael blinked. He recognized the name, Dr. Heinrich that is.
“I’ll be your driver to the restaurant for dinner with Dr. Heinrich. Shall we?” Jonas offered.
Michael looked perplexed for a second. Dinner, of course. How professional, he had a driver pick him up. Michael had been expecting Dr. Heinrich himself, but then again hadn’t the superintendent said he was sending someone?
“Ah, yes,” Michael said, looking behind Jonas and smiling over at Mrs. Wallace, distracted by her awkward gaze.
“Dr. Heinrich is waiting, sir…”
Michael smiled and nodded.
‘Yes, of course,’ he thought, coming from behind his desk.
“Yes, of course,” Michael said, grabbing a few things and his suit jacket from the coat hook near the door. A coat hook, what could he say? He was old-fashioned and it still served a purpose for these things.
* * *
Mrs. Wallace had a hard time meeting his eyes. The gentleman slowly stepped out of the office and into the room. Mrs. Wallace stepped aside quietly, hoping to avoid contact with him. She looked over at Michael.
Michael nodded his head at her and she immediately exited the office, with the other man looking at her curiously. He stopped by the secretary’s desk while Jonas waited by the entrance of the office. Michael glanced over at Mrs. Wallace.
“Please tell Mr. Claypool to call if he needs me. Especially in regards to Claudia,” he whispered. Jonas looked impatient, eyeing his watch. He motioned Michael over while opening the door.
“Sir, please, Dr. Heinrich is waiting. And he hates to be kept waiting.” Jonas informed Michael.
Michael nodded and hurried towards the door.
8
Bryce sipped at the glass of wine he’d ordered. It was an expensive vintage, the bouquet excellent, the taste of a grape that had been fermented over the course of fifty years, sliding over his tongue like smooth silk. For a moment, he closed his eyes and savored the memory of the woman who had taught him to drink wine, to really appreciate the art that went into making every bottle. The ingenuity of all the people involved to make something that seemed so simple at its heart. “You have to take the moment Bryce, know that hours and hours of work went into it. You can taste the passion then. Just like our science; you can taste the passion in the end result.”
He drifted into the memory, hoping to see her face. It faded even more with every passing year.
“Sasha,” he whispered her name. He smiled, recalling her image at the other end of the table at a dinner together. She was late this time; he had been waiting for her and had ordered the wine she enjoyed. She appeared, looking sorry to be late but he understood, science their second love, a partner he wasn’t jealous of. And yet he wondered if with time he would be, if his feelings would change, make him bitter and regret her long hours.
She spent more time than intended, involved with the alien specimens. He had his own interests, his duties to the job. But his heart was aching, devoted to her now, his work entwined into several projects. He could do both and still be completely hers. Again, he wasn’t jealous. The project she was working on was taking an interesting twist. And they spoke of it often, comparing notes. She loved to hear his input. He wondered if it was mostly to challenge his observations.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “A lot is going on. Tomorrow we’re testing the substance we’ve discovered on the ship. I just had to get prepared. I have a good feeling about it. It could be another form of energy, perhaps something different from the crystals,” she added, taking her seat. She was thoroughly excited.
