Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days

by Agster, Joe

  “Take our friends to the holding center.” The mastermind directs Foenix, before turning to the lead agent, “And leave the body. Let them think it’s just another prostitute. No one will care in a few days anyway.”

  The remaining agents force Fisher and Friend to converge onto Foenix, as they are teleported away.

  27

  Holding Cell, Location Unknown

  They arrive in a large hanger of some sort, one with ample lighting throughout the ceiling, but no windows to let in natural light. All around there is equipment, metallic boxes, covered vehicles, and other gear. It appears to be some type of military warehouse. Several men are focused on the various cargo, using their devices to check each one, or perhaps taking inventory of its contents.

  Foenix escorts the two of them toward one end of the expansive space and down a dark corridor. Its walls suggest the corridor was carved out of the Earth, pipes stretching along them. Dimly lit lights hang from the ceiling spaced several meters apart. The corridor leads into another one, then another one after that. After walking through that maze of hallways, Foenix opens up the thick windowless steel door to what appears to be a small room, plain and white, about the size of a bedroom. It has a couple cots, a chair and a table.

  “I forgot to tell you about those restraints you’re wearing. If you try to teleport your restraints will detonate. The geo-trigger mechanism is active, so if you try to teleport your restraints will detonate. So if you want to see Cassie again I advise you both to stay here until we need you.” Foenix slams the door. Friend looks at his arms, and discovers they removed his watch.

  He sits in agony. Cassie is gone, this much is certain, but watching her die in that horrific way is not something he’d like to relive. All those times they’ve died by being burnt by the asteroid, or from being engulfed by that towering tsunami, it always represented an end. She would hold him tight in that certain way, squeezing is arm exponentially harder in the final moments. Dying in these ways is poetic, representative of a cycle’s end and the rebirth of the next. But dying by a bullet is ugly and repugnant.

  Fisher gives Friend a cold, hard look before sighing. After a few moments of contemplation, he finally speaks, “So this was your plan? You didn’t think the people who have the resources to destroy this planet would be capable of dealing with a couple of lowly peons like us?”

  Friend is unfazed by the guilt trip. He’s encouraged actually. “I think we’re in their bunker. If so, this is absolutely great! Listen, we need to figure out what they’re up to, why they’re keeping us here. Do you recognize that man at all? The mastermind?”

  “No. But he’s definitely not Chinese. His accent sounds Danish or Scandinavian,” Fisher remarks.

  “I’m not too familiar with your world, so I’ll just assume those are very different dialects from Chinese.” Friend replies, provoking a laugh from Fisher.

  Friend is content with playing along in their little game. He’ll sit in this cell for as long as needed, if it reveals some key information. That mastermind is a devious man, unrelenting and committed to his plan for whatever reason. The longer he stays here the more he will learn. Perhaps he’ll uncover the mastermind’s identity and those of his associates, along with their current location. They have plans for Friend this much is certain, otherwise why would they keep him here? Foenix must be that sure of himself that he can win, but Friend has the benefit of meditation to help and guide him.

  The hours pass as they waste away in isolation. They are sleepy and hungry, yet restless in anticipation of what is next. Friend is sick of wearing these bulky restraints as he can barely touch his face. A small bowl in the corner provides a method for the two to relieve themselves, and Friend is sure the stench will grow in rancidity.

  Suddenly the door swings open rapidly. Foenix emerges with a group of three guards, the same professional agents that initially captured them. He scans the room in amusement at their listlessness and passivity.

  “The man would like to speak with you,” Foenix states, pointing to Friend.

  Friend is escorted down the corridors once more. As they walk endlessly through these constricted, earthy tunnels, he wonders why they cannot just teleport there. This reminds him, why bother with these useless restraints, when they already hold leverage on him, preventing him from leaving?

  “Any chance of removing these restraints?” Friend asks.

  “Not a chance,” Foenix responds in a serious tone, unwilling to explain more.

  “So what are you, the opposite of everything I am?” Friend inquires, annoyed at his declined request.

  “What we are is irrelevant,” he responds in a merciless tone. “The only thing relevant is that we don’t belong here. This is not our world. We are keeping you here until the asteroid hits, then I will terminate your existence. Your six-day adventures are over.”

  “So how do you plan on doing that?” Friend replies.

  “Have you ever stopped to wonder if we are the same person?” Foenix asks. “What if I am your future self, intent on stopping you… well me, from the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe there’s a reason you have forgotten your identity.”

  At the end of the corridor is a large service elevator. The mesh walls remind him of the elevator from the Hanford government bunker, except this one is much smaller, able to hold only up to ten people at most, and its panel is much simpler to operate. One of the agents hits a button, and they ascend several stories, about fifty meters by Friend’s estimation. They exit and enter a bricked walled hallway leading to a door.

  As they emerge through the door the scenery changes completely. A rugged, subterranean interior gives way to a grandiose one, complete with fine art décor, reddish brown carpeting, and fine art sculptures set on viewing pedestals in the large entry room. Second and third level overlooks are exposed, along with a fourth shorter one, their railing composed of marble and stone. At the near center of the one long edge of the rectangular room appears to be an entrance, a doorway of some sort, but it remains closed. On the opposite side is a large opening to another, even larger room designed for social gatherings. This place appears to be a giant underground palace.

  They walk through the large opening and he finds that it resembles an elaborate hotel lobby, much larger and grandiose than the one in Hotel Mei. It features multiple seating areas along with trees and plants to provide a sense of natural feeling. Along the sides are areas that look like restaurants, shops, and beverage establishments. Throughout this large social hall are also holographic monitors, six to each side, placed high along the walls. Straight ahead, about a hundred meters away is another elevator, where based on their trajectory, is directly where they are headed.

  This elevator is decorated in a fine ambiance to match the décor of the main floor. As Friend can see, they are on the first of four floors. The agent touches the button to indicate there are headed toward the top one.

  As they step off they enter a smaller lobby, one with hallways stretching outward from each side, and straight ahead, fine oak double doors greet them, exposing the inside of the next room, a large banquet hall of some kind, perhaps to host meetings or gatherings for the most elite that are stationed here.

  As he sees the group approach the mastermind sits at the head of the table, his back against a large glass wall overlooking the large rectangular room below. About twenty or so other gentleman and a few ladies are seated on both sides of the large dark oak table, dressed as exquisite as the mastermind. They seem to represent varying nationalities as evidenced by their diverse skin tones and wardrobe choices. Xiong Li also sits among them. The mastermind stands up, eager and willing to greet his new guest.

  “Ahhh welcome to Licht Palace, our underground sanctuary,” the mastermind states, to the delight of his associates. “You are on the verge of witnessing history. In five days, a new era in human civilization will begin. With one swift act we will solve the problem of climate change, overpopulation, environmental pollution, and poverty.
Please, sit down.”

  One of the agents forces Friend to take a seat in the chair directly opposite of the mastermind. The mastermind continues, “You see Friend, what you are fighting against is progress. Sea levels are the highest level now than they have been for the past two thousand years. With rampant overpopulation, water and food resources are being stretched to their limits. Who wants to live in that? Once the world is cleansed of all these problems, we can start anew. We can build a more intelligent, evolved society. One with everlasting peace.”

  Friend is disgusted, but quickly realizes he needs to play the part of a statesman, to communicate on their level.

  “May you be so kind as to introduce yourself, so I may know with whom I am speaking?” Friend eloquently asks, pretending to be impressed by the mastermind’s persona.

  “I am but a humble visionary, but you may call me Gustav,” he replies.

  “If you are a humble visionary, why did you kill Cassie?”

  “I apologize for that. I needed to make a bold statement so you would understand the gravity of the situation you are in.”

  “So are you with the Chinese government?”

  Gustav laughs, the crowd laughing along as well, as he answers, “No, we are above the Chinese government. Actually, we control the Chinese government, and the American government, and the GSC. The governments around the world are like children, you know, they squabble like jealous siblings. So in a way, you can think of me as the father of the world. Like a father, I raise my children to be well mannered. But they grow up to be rebellious, to make a mess of things. So we have to teach the children a lesson every so often.”

  “So who are you then? What is Huludao?” Friend continues to probe.

  “Huludao? Huludao is nothing, just one of the many shell corporations we control. Think of us as guardians of the world,” Gustav answers, unwilling to provide any more details.

  Several food servers enter the room behind Friend, bringing trays of hot meals, intended to feed the group seated at the table. After seconds of plates clanking as they hit the table, and the group members beginning to dig in to their means, a plate of food is offered to Friend.

  “Eat. Relax,” Gustav calls out, as everyone continues to eat.

  They de-couple Friend’s restraints, yet he remains highly suspicious of their intentions. Why feed him? What is the ulterior motive here? Friend’s wits are not serving him well. Right now though he is hungry, and prepares to indulge on this nourishment before him, hoping to think on it later. The meal he receives contains a piece of white meat, surrounding by an arrangement of green vegetables.

  After the meal the group members stand up and engage in friendly banter, holding wine glasses. As Gustav nods toward Foenix, he stands up and urges Friend to do the same. Gustav casually walks over to utter some last words.

  “Well Friend, thanks for being our guest. You are free to roam about now, but pardon us as we keep your restraints on. My hosts will show you to your living quarters where you can stay until the big event. After that, Foenix here has something special planned for the two of you. If we don’t speak again then let this be our final goodbye.” Gustav shakes his hand through the restraints, before turning his back.

  A man in a red suit escorts Friend back down to the first floor, and as they exit the elevator, they proceed down the long hallway to their right that is connected from the social plaza. The hallway doesn’t lose any luxuriousness as he continues down the endless winding hallway, until the host stops at a room. He hands Friend a card key and wishes him well, before turning back up the way they came.

  Friend enters the small room and finds it is a single room containing a bed and desk, with a small bathroom toward the back. There are no windows, but ample amounts of light. The room size seems meager, but probably intended as a holding location until he is ready to confront Foenix.

  Finally alone after a terrible day, he lies on the bed to self-reflect. He’d like to teleport to the holding cell to provide Fisher with an update, but he knows that any displacement would set off the restraints. This must be why Foenix didn’t teleport to the banquet hall. But what would stop him from teleporting right back to Gustav, putting his life at risk? There certainly must be safety nets in place. But no matter, he is confined to this bunker palace, wherever in the world it is.

  The next few days pass, and Friend can do nothing but meditate. He knows that Foenix will force an end, and he must be ready for it. He engages in a deep trance like state, recalling his training with crisp and clear accuracy, affirming to himself those words: tranquility of mind, fluidity of movement. He visualizes himself at the top the Star Tower hotel, unafraid of heights, standing alone as the high altitude winds attempt to blow him off balance. He visualizes himself training, just he would with Mason, focusing on skill over power, and continuing to drive away fear.

  Over those days he hadn’t seen Fisher. The security agents won’t allow him down in the basement areas, where the holding cells and storage areas are. Attempts to appeal to them with friendly talk are fruitless, as their stoic nature prevents them from even engaging in any kind of conversation. It seems fitting as they themselves don’t want to risk being ostracized by the power elite.

  The palace bunker is much smaller and much less populated than the Hanford bunker, big enough to host a few hundred at most. These lucky survivors have trickled in mostly in the last day or so, primarily composed of government officials, wealthy power players, and esteemed intellectuals. It is also well staffed, as human waiters, chefs, and housekeepers are largely employed to serve the dignitaries. This is far cry from the citizen worker system and the robotic machinery that was used throughout Hanford bunker.

  In his travels throughout the underground fortification he has discovered an indoor golf course, a ball room, libraries, and office areas. He’s tried to study the layout as much as possible, committing as much of the detail to his memory as he can. It may come in handy.

  When he’s not up and about the bunker Friend thinks about Cassie. He is aghast at the idea of her being called a prostitute after she was killed. Even though he will assuredly see her again in her natural, full of life state, he still feels very much responsible for her death. He misses her companionship, something he had gotten so attached. About a hundred times has he thought to himself out of reflex, I’ll ask Cassie, only to remember the inevitable truth. The paranoia of her existence being erased through manipulation of her timeline has largely subsided, as through his meditation he has felt an eternal connection, a bond that they cannot break, that no one can.

  As Friend wraps up his final meditation, knowing that it is only hours away before the asteroid impact, he is interrupted by a knock at the door. The host who showed him his room announces that everyone is meeting in the palace social hall, to watch the asteroid impact being televised. The hosts only address Gustav by “his lord” or sometimes just “lord,” and Friend has yet to learn his full name. And now, his lord, as it were, is demanding that Friend and everyone join in on the festivities, as billions are being set to perish.

  28

  January 1, 11:05 UTC

  Licht Underground Palace, Social Hall

  The social hall is a short walk through the hallway, as Friend has visited numerous times already. As he follows the host’s path into the main hall, he is met with the buzzing atmosphere. Hundreds gather, dressed in finely tailored suits and sparkling dresses, conversing with each other and looking up at the various broadcasts spread throughout the hall on its twelve monitors.

  Friend cannot seem to fully grasp how people can take delight and enjoyment as the rest of the world is set to suffer. But there they are, laughing, holding glasses of wine and Champagne and eating hors d’oeuvres. He doesn’t recognize anyone of note, Gustav and Foenix must be somewhere else, and Fisher is still missing.

  Friend has grown accustomed to the time system they use here, called UTC, that is eight hours ahead of Las Vegas and coincidentally eight hours behind Hong Ko
ng. This means that the asteroid will hit land at 12:21, about an hour away.

  The holographic monitors show news broadcasts from around the world, providing many different cultural and geographic perspectives. Some of the countries on the opposite side of the world from the impact feel somewhat blessed and optimistic they will survive. Other broadcasts show thousands all in a state of prayer, also hoping for a best case scenario.

  Just as the clocks in the hall strike noon, Gustav enters along with a contingent of agents, his key associates and Foenix. He steps on a large platform they had prepared for him, and walks toward the microphone. The room becomes quiet as all eyes are fixed on him. The classical music also subsides, as does the hologram volume.

  “In less than twenty minutes the world will be forever transformed. This historic event is twenty-five years in the making. From our initial investment in a young startup company called Space Onyx, to our control over… I mean, partnership with China”—he pauses as the crowd erupts in laughter, raising their glasses in a toast—“to create an investment arm and control the space industry, we have fulfilled our quest to institute our world order. Since the dawn of the industrial age, mankind has been blazing a trail of destruction. Our predecessors attempted to combat endless population booms and the growing environmental hazard by trying to manufacture viruses, like the Spanish Flu, AIDS, and Ebola. But where they have failed, we triumphed.”

  “So now a toast, to the Lindenberg Society, to you all, and the future of humanity!” He wraps up his speech, raising his glass to a roaring applause.

  The lights in the room are dimmed as the volume from the twelve broadcasts is resumed to normal volume. For the next ten minutes all eyes are on the images, as the crowd watches with a mix of delight an anxiety. Gustav can be seen shaking hands in congratulations with many others, allow the heaping praise feel his sense of pride. In his sick and twisted world, he has accomplished what he sees as his life’s work and the work of his ancestors. He is at the pinnacle of his own existence.