Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days

by Agster, Joe

  The walk allows him to meditate on where his quest should begin. Max harbors a secret, this much is true, but uncovering it may require endless iterations of gaining his trust. Getting him to surrender his bunker cards is one thing, but learning his most cherished secret seems as daunting as stopping the asteroid itself. He has a use for it after all, most likely to unleash it as the culmination of a vast plot, and never to take it to his grave and just “live out his days” as he has lead Friend to believe.

  Nonetheless, Friend realizes the most intriguing person in this new quest is not Max. There is someone else, someone he has ignored up this point, as Friend’s laser-like focus on his plan to reach the bunker relegated him to the back of his mind. But this man has been sitting under his nose the entire time, dropping hints of supernatural ability by healing his wounds and vanishing in thin air. His presence has rubbed off on Friend, allowing him to escape FBI headquarters through a strange burst of power. If there is any chance of stopping this asteroid, he is going to need to tap into his own abilities and exploit them to advance his cause. To do this, he is going to need to find this strange man.

  Finding him is not like a needle in a haystack. It’s worse, like a needle in a strange city. From what Friend has observed, he eschews contact with anyone like a frightened rabbit. Locating him on the Strip is unlikely, especially during the first two days. He appeared to Friend when in distress, but Friend is not going down any foolhardy road that requires him to recreate events. No, it’s clear; the only way to make contact with the strange man is to let him come to Friend when he is ready. Patience is a virtue that Friend must adhere to, even if it takes several, possibly hundreds of iterations to find him.

  Friend comes to this determination as he approaches the junction between the dirt trail and the tarred road, standing upon the view of the Mini Mart. He then decides that this iteration needs to be about discovery and observation, about blending into the background. This means no connecting with Cassie or Max.

  He takes the train to a new destination: The Star Tower. It is at the most north end of the Strip, and the first stop along the Strip train line. Its intimidating height is so profound that it stands like a giant over its minion resorts to the south. Friend tilts his head almost vertically to marvel at its structure. It’s silvery white in color with hints of steel blue and lava red circumscribing the observation deck at the top. This is one place he dares not to enter. Friend accepts that his weakness is heights, and something this tall is a beast to be avoided.

  He slowly moves south down the Strip as the day progresses, trying to think of ways to draw the strange man out. He detects an abnormal eeriness to this day; his gut telling him there is someone watching him, lurking in the shadows behind his moments. Perhaps there is a connection to the strange man and this feeling. No matter, his instincts prompt him to be maximally diligent.

  Friend finds himself at Bellissimo Park later in the afternoon. He finally manages to buy himself new clothes, a task typically accomplished earlier in the day. Cassie’s style choices for him have rubbed off on him as he sticks with rugged black pants, maroon collared shirt, and a black utility jacket.

  After he completes his purchase, he ventures out into the large plaza area that connects the shops to the dining area. The plaza encloses a large series of fountains, remnants of a large lake that used to grace these grounds before it was reimagined as a shopping park.

  The time is 17:00 when Friend engages his sense of curiosity and casually walks along the row of restaurants, probing for Max and his mystery dinner companion. Max had stated over and over about meeting someone in a bistro, but previously Friend was only interested in the envelope drop, nothing more. But Cassie’s mother had talked about Max’s mysterious acquaintances, and now he is curious to learn more about them. One or more of these contacts may be possibly linked to Max’s big secret.

  After pacing through the area a couple of times, he finally spots a hasty Max walking into an Italian bistro called La Villa Bistro. After scanning the room, he walks right to a table where a seemingly tall dark man sits, a bit younger than Max, dressed in a gray sport coat and light orange dress shirt. Just as Max sits down, the man had appeared to be waiting impatiently, looking at his wrist timepiece. As these events unfold, Friend immediately walks into the busy restaurant area and finds an inconspicuous spot near the bar. It’s close enough to observe while being careful not to disrupt the chain of events.

  The conversation has been going on for about ten minutes, with the dark man pleading with Max as he gestures wildly, nearly combative in his persuasion. Appearing to not inflict any type of change of heart in Max, he frustratingly concedes defeat, abruptly standing up as he tucks money into a bill binder, but talking quietly as he leaves some parting words before exiting the restaurant. Friend, clearly intrigued by this exchange, gets up and decided to pursue the dark man. He is someone with a key relationship with Max, and Friend intends to find out what.

  He continues to tail him about ten to twenty meters back as the man walks through the plaza and inward toward the Bellissimo resort. Inside, the man slows his pace a bit, stalking the casino floor for some type of chance game to play. A few minutes into his irregular path he finds it, a holographic card game of some sort.

  Friend watches the man play from a distance, inferentially learning the rules of the game as the man goes on. He studies the patterns, with the intention of moving in to sit next to him and play. Then he can strike up a chat and glean some information about what Max may possibly know, or anything useful for that matter, even just a name. As the man drags cards with his finger along the holographic glass, moaning in disgust as he loses, Friend finally gets it: seven cards, try to find patterns by suit or sequence with the face cards having higher value.

  He approaches, sitting next to the man with a casino currency card he buys from a machine nearby, flashing it to begin play. The computerized female voice instantly greets Friend with a seductive, yet slightly bitchy “welcome” as he starts to play his first hand.

  The first hand is dealt, but just before Friend engages it he feels a stiff nudge right into his gut from a rounded piece of cold steel. He looks down to see it is a gun with an elongated barrel.

  “You think I don’t know when I’m being followed?” he firmly tells Friend with a look of control.

  Friend brushes off the comment initially just as he is playing his first hand, beaming as his wins it with a pair of cards with the letter “A” on them. After the victory, he plays it cool with the man, unconcerned that he may pull the trigger. “How long have you known Dr. Pond?”

  “What business of it is yours?” he responds.

  “I’m trying to help him,” Friend reveals calmly. “He’s under surveillance by the FBI. They’re tracking a prepaid device that he is carrying that he bought in California.”

  He looks at his screen as he continues to play, unfazed by the prodding of the man’s weapon. The man retracts his gun and puts it away, amazed at the revelation and this knowledge of Max’s plight. “Max is a friend of mine, but he shouldn’t be here in the first place. He needs to return to Houston, to NASA, and complete the mission.”

  Friend laughs, simultaneous in the enjoyment at winning again and at the man’s comment. “Max is doing the right thing. He’s not running away from NASA. He’s trying to put a plan into motion. The asteroid simply cannot be stopped.”

  The man is clearly peeved at Friend’s last statement as he counters, “Who are you with?”

  Friend is having fun, and decides to clearly play off what he knows. “That’s classified. But for the sake of our conversation, you can call me Friend. So tell me mister…? What is Max’s big secret?”

  “The name is Fisher. Listen, there are forces at work you can’t begin to possibly understand. And frankly I barely understand myself,” he replies, trying to gain ground in the discussion.

  Friend wonders, “So why not help Max?”

  Fisher replies, “If I do, I am a de
ad man. Besides I’ve helped him enough.”

  “You’re a dead man anyway. In six days, we’re all dead,” Friend explains with a tone of confidence, surprised that Fisher is so defeated.

  “I’ll believe when I see it,” Fisher retorts, getting up, suddenly feeling an exigent need to leave. “Whatever you do, don’t follow me.”

  Friend plays one more hand, winning his third in a row before getting up and calling it quits. He wanders through the casino area toward the back of the resort, where some sort of sprawling art exhibit is taking place. The gallery space is filled with dense crowds, all clamoring to get a look at the various painting and sculptures that are themed around the Christmas holiday that took place the day prior. Friend takes a moment to admire some the art as he clears his mind to think about his next move.

  He passes slowly through the currents of the crowds as they move in a designated, one-way pattern through the narrow maze of the exhibit. He notices a ruckus as resort security slowly make their way in his direction. They appear to be looking for someone at the exhibit, perhaps a known criminal, casino cheat, or a thief. Friend pays it little mind as they draw closer and closer, until three of them get within three meters of Friend and shout commands to stop moving.

  “Hey! You!” they yell in his direction, then two more on the opposite side.

  As they close in, making eye contact directly with Friend, he suddenly realizes it is him they are after. But why? Perplexed, he passively attempts to escape in a sideways direction to avoid their trap, but they counter and attempt to cut him off.

  “You with the black jacket! Stop right there!” they continue to command.

  Friend notices more security coming in, now backed by the police, as he identifies them by their badges. With a newfound sense of urgency, he pushes a man out of the way and begins to aggressively escape his pursuers.

  Why are they after me? It’s all Friend can wonder as he jumps up on a stage and runs across, evading the first wave but attracting a new set of police and security personnel. He finds himself outside the main exhibit hall and in a hallway area that is slightly less crowded. One end leads back to the voluminous crowds trying to enter the exhibit hall, and the other end curves out of view. He freezes momentarily as they close in fast, never had been to this resort and not knowing its layout. He quickly determines he has little options, so he runs down the hallway toward the curving unknown, creating separation as he reaches the hallway’s end, but finding a door that reads “Employees Only.”

  He barges in and finds himself in some sort of shipping and receiving area. Every employee is engaged in whatever job they are consumed with and pays Friend little attention, until the police barge in right after. He continues through the myriad of stacks of warehouse goods, eventually finding a new set of doors that lead to a series of maintenance offices. Friend realizes he needs to find a way out, or possibly up, before they cut off his escape path. As he races down a hallway, he comes to a service elevator whose doors are just closing, slipping in just in time.

  The two elderly women look at him with a surprised smile. They appear to be housekeepers as they are accompanying a wheel-bound automaton pushing a large hamper of towels and robes destined for a higher floor. Friend, surely thinking the police and security saw him enter the elevator, decides they may try to stop it and force it back down, so he hits the button for the next floor, the twelfth one, and hastily gets off as the doors open. He waves at the elderly women who just glance as he makes his way onto the main hotel floor area.

  Between the service elevator exit and the hotel corridor is the stairwell. He sees the roof as his best option, where he can hopefully wait things out. He immediately takes to the stairs and ascends rapidly, still sweating and exhausted from the recent getaway but with just enough energy to continue passing floor by floor uninterrupted. He theorizes they might be looking for him on camera by now so he hurriedly makes it to the top, finally passing the 29th floor before making it to the roof.

  He opens the doors to find no type of hangout or other leisurely endeavor, a far cry from the Metropolitan with lounge chairs and a bar for patrons. On this roof is nothing but ugly ventilation ducts and ports, providing no cover to hide if needed. It is bordered by large flexible glass barriers, presumably for preventing someone from jumping off to their death. The barriers provide little relief from the steady cold wind blowing through. Seeing no place to hide and no place to escape, he realizes he committed a tactical error by allowing himself to be cornered. “Damn!” he shouts to himself, berating himself for making such a mistake.

  He feels defeated in the thought that at any moment the police will arrive. As he looks around he feels that eerie feeling again, believing perhaps the darkness of the roof or maybe the height of the building is causing it. It is unsettling enough, making it difficult to ignore. The roof shakes a little as well, due to the slight swaying of the building caused by the occasional gusts, adding to his unease. He feels that maybe he should return to the bottom floor and surrender.

  He walks begrudgingly toward the door until he’s in arm’s length of the knob before feeling compelled to turn around and face the entirety of the roof one final time. What he sees utterly shocks him, causing him to seize up in a panic. The man is a familiar sight, about his height, his build, and even his looks. He even shares the same facial features, hair, and a stubble beard. This man that stands before him is too familiar… it’s him.

  Who is this person? Could it be him traveling from the future to confront his current self? Whoever he is, he is his twin, his double. The man looks at him with an evil smile, as if he is basking in a victory of some sort. His eyes are dark and unfriendly, like staring into a bottomless well. Sensing such a sinister presence in this almost identically looking being, Friend has no choice but to confront him.

  “I figured I’d see you here,” the double declares.

  “Who…? What?” Friend stares at the double, unable to come up with a basic question to ask. It’s clear this mysterious double planned this encounter.

  “So, you thought you could escape it?” the double replies, continuing while looking up toward the dark sky, “It’s a marvel of beauty, the asteroid.”

  Friend now understands why he was being chased, it wasn’t him they were after, it was his double. He must have done something terrible and profound enough to provoke the authorities to search for him, and thus, Friend. He looks down at the double’s clothes as he is dressed in all black with a long leather coat, a black large-collared shirt and black dress pants. He then looks to his own clothing, noticing they are similar in dress.

  “You… they were chasing me because of you.” Friend speaks out in a baffled tone, “What are you?”

  The double laughs, retorting while pointing back at him, “What are you? Do you think you are a part of this world?”

  Friend remains in awe, the previous question invoking a philosophical thought along with a puzzled facial expression as he wonders the same thing. The double continues his speech, “You know what’s funny, thinking that you can stop it. Did you ever consider that it doesn’t want to be stopped? Its destiny is to crash down, cleansing out the wicked, the wretched, the corrupt, all for the sake of starting anew.”

  Friend’s bafflement turns to agony then to irritation, pointing at the double as he proclaims, “You know what’s funny, thinking it can’t be stopped.”

  The double vanishes out of thin air then reappears a split second later right in front of Friend’s face. The double’s voice turns even more sinister and devious, yelling, “If you think it can be stopped, try stopping it then!”

  In that instant the double lifts his leg and lands a kick to Friend’s chest, and with it a burst of a thrusting, powerful force, knocking Friend backwards about six meters and with enough momentum to ram his head hard on the door of the roof entrance. He lies lifeless on the ground, unconscious from the impact.

  16

  Day 2 – December 27

  Location Unk
nown

  As Friend slowly comes to, he finds himself sprawled out on a small bed, barely large enough for his slightly larger than average stature. The walls of the room are made of large gray stones. The roof is held together by large wooden beams painted a dark rustic orange. The curved-top door is propped open, also colored in the same rustic style as the wooden beams. Friend grabs the back of his head, relieved from the pain of the traumatic blow, but reeling in the psychological aftereffects from it.

  As Friend sits up on the bed, he is alarmed to see the strange man come into view, making his way toward the room. Friend is somewhat elated, knowing that he has found him, or in a sense, the other way around. He is intrigued how the strange man always seems to appear at these moments of distress, and he hopes to learn how sooner rather than later.

  The man finally meanders casually into the room, bringing Friend news. “You’ve been out all night. You suffered a cranial fracture from the impact against the door, but I took care of it. I also rescued you from that maniac that is your double, your Other. I was able to take advantage of the police arriving, distracting him enough to grab you and get you out of there.”

  Friend looks at the man perplexed, still grabbing the back of his head. “I’m still trying to make sense of it. Why do I have a double? He seems to be the antithesis of everything I am and stand for. And by the way, who are you?”

  The man responds immediately, in a kindly wise voice. “Sorry Friend, I delayed introducing myself until I was sure it was you. I call myself Mason.”