Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days

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Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days Page 35

by Agster, Joe


  With less than a minute before impact, the broadcasts show detailed images of the fire trail, the bright orange glow of the asteroid. The crowd holds their breath, knowing they are in the very moment they have been celebrating. In the final seconds the asteroid can be seen lighting up the night sky, and on impact, a picture of a giant fireball emerges over the city, so large and vicious that it can be seen from thousands of kilometers away.

  Minutes after the impact the holograms are muted, the lights restored, and the symphonic music resumes at its customary volume, to the pleasure of the guests.

  With all of that over, Friend wonders when he will encounter Foenix. He now understands why they wanted to wait, Gustav is so set on his plot coming to its fruition he didn’t want to disrupt it in any way. Now that he can move on the next chapter, there is no more risk that Friend can disrupt his lifetime achievement.

  As Friend stands alone near a wall, Foenix finally emerges, with five agent guards. “It’s time Friend. This way,” he says, waving his hand in the direction of the foyer where they emerged the first time from the holding cell.

  They walk through the large foyer and toward the service elevator. They descend the fifty or so meters back down. They then walk in a new direction, not toward the holding cells but somewhere else. They continue through the corridors, turning left then right, until they arrive in a large warehouse. It is similar to the first one he encountered when they arrived, but this one is mostly empty.

  “Leave us. Guard the doors.” Foenix orders the agents and they return outside through the doors to the corridor.

  Friend understands the drill. He knows that Foenix intends to use a power on him, putting his hand on his heart to extract all his life force from his body. But Friend has a trick up his sleeve. The restraints that he is wearing, he figured out how to take them off. Just as he can heal himself, he can inflict harm on himself as well. He can momentarily fracture his wrist bones enough so that he can slip his hands through.

  Foenix is perplexed by the little resistance Friend puts up, but proceeds toward him anyway. As Friend feels the terrible pain of the life extraction, he makes his move, cracking his bones and allowing the restraints to fall to the floor, just as he teleports out of harm’s way. As soon as they hit the ground, they detonate and cause a large enough explosion to knock Foenix back a dozen meters. Foenix lay there, his face and chest sustaining severe damage through horrible burns.

  “Oops.” Friend taunts as he stands over his counterpart, healing his hands in the process. But Foenix is powerful and it takes only a second or two for him to heal himself as well. He stands tall once more, peeved and surprised by the attack. “You thought this was going to be easy?”

  Friend uses a burst of energy on Foenix, but his sense of defense was enough to absorb the blast. Foenix engages him in a fight, each evading the others’ moves. Foenix tries to bursts him back, but Friend teleports out of the way.

  The fight intensifies as Friend lands a key punch, stunning Foenix. Foenix teleports away after to restore his balance, then engages him in a teleporting flurry, striking Friend with a various combination of punches. Friend slows down time however and perfectly times a burst of energy to knock Foenix to the ground. Foenix is startled, then teleports back and lands a surprise burst of his own. Friend gets up, and plants a super speed kick to Foenix in the head.

  Friend teleports to a hidden spot in the large domed hangar. Foenix searches for him, and yells for him to come out.

  Friend calls out, “What will this accomplish? If you want to be out of here, why not help me? If we stop the asteroid, the mission will be over and we can both go home.”

  A room stay silent as Foenix continues to look around. Friend teleports back to the center of the arena, attempting again to engage in reason. This fighting will continue without end, even if either lands a critical blow they can easily heal themselves. Friend feels it is pointless.

  “Listen…” Friend begins to talk, but Foenix cuts him off with words of his own.

  “That’s not my mission!” He surprises him by jumping in with a flurry of punches, but Friend counters each one. They continue to exchange super speed punches in hand to hand combat, but Foenix lands a lucky burst, knocking Friend is to the ground.

  Just then, Friend spots him… Fisher, who appears to have snuck into the room somehow. Where has he been? Did he escape confinement? He appears to be holding his gun as well.

  Friend continues to lie on the ground, pretending to be tired and weary from the combat. Foenix moves in, kneeing him in the gut, grabbing his arm to prevent him from teleporting. “I’ve got you now. Say goodbye to this world!”

  He places his hand on Friend’s heart, and begins his strange ritual of sapping Friend’s life energy. Friend feels himself become weak, cold. But he is taking a calculated risk, watching Fisher in the distance raising his gun. Friend screams in agonizing pain, embracing the reality of what is happening, realizing he has about one or two seconds left before there is a point of no return, a point where he will not have enough power to break free. Each millisecond entangles Friend more and more into this well, and he hopes he is right about Fisher, giving him one final stare before he attempts to break free, but is it already too late?

  Bang! The bullet strikes Foenix square in the back of the head, rendering him instantly lifeless, his brain matter splattering all over Friend and everywhere else in a five-meter radius. Friend is relieved that that final tactic worked, and he finally stands with the help of Fisher.

  “Where did you come from?” Friend beams with curiosity.

  “It’s a long story. But I saw you being escorting down here. I’ve noticed you both are vulnerable from behind, especially in the head,” Fisher tells him, recalling the incident in Li’s room where Foenix knocked him out by surprise. Friend grabs the back of his own head, feeling glad it’s not him this time.

  “Help me with his body,” Friend asks. “I’m going to switch clothes with him. Hopefully they won’t be able to tell the difference.” After a few agonizing minutes of the clothes exchange, Friend embraces the cold stark contract of his alter ego, his darker, sinister voice, the evil look he gives everyone. He just hopes it’s enough to convince Gustav and the others.

  “What should we do with the body? Is there a chute or a garbage dump somewhere?” Friend asks.

  “Why not leave it? Tell the goons you are done. Order them to clean it up.” Fisher tells him. Friend realizes the idea is perfect. Fisher continues, “What do you plan to do now?”

  “I’m staying here as long as I need to, if it takes me days, months, it doesn’t matter. Somewhere here there is a clue to stopping the asteroid, I can feel it. Between the two of us, someone will eventually slip up and provide us with critical information.”

  “I will keep my ear to the grindstone. But listen, just so you know, they offered me a position as an intelligence officer in their new world older. So we should be careful to be seen together. What a strange twist, I fretted over why I was never offered a bunker assignment by my own country, and now here I am.”

  Friend had always wondered, but it seems like a perfect time to ask. “Did Max ever offer you his bunker assignment?”

  “He did, but I turned him down. I didn’t want to believe him when he said the ADS would fail.” Fisher reflects on a previous exchange he had with Max a few weeks ago. Then he exclaims, “I can’t believe it, after a nearly twenty-year career in espionage, and the Illuminati up there was under all our noses the whole time.” Fisher mentions with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

  “The Illuminati?”

  “It’s just an expression to mean a collection of the super-rich elite, all plotting to end the world. No one believed it except for a tiny minority of kooky conspiracy theorists.”

  “Your world is baffling, Fisher. Just four days ago no one believed the asteroid would even crash. I may not know where I come from, but my gut tells me the society from where I come would not have such an aversion to t
he truth. How could you not see this coming?”

  “Well don’t blame me. Besides, my efforts were focused on foreign governments. My bosses pulled the strings and told me to back off. These guys have their hands in everything, so it’s hard to gather intelligence when your bosses are afraid of them. And by the way, call me Al.”

  “Okay, Al. I guess this is where we part ways. I need to be Foenix now, and you have a role in their society. Once I find the information I need, I’ll need you to kill me so I can get back.” Friend walks toward the exit.

  “See you around,” Fisher replies, as Friend walks out into the corridor. Fisher still has a hard time grasping this concept of iterating through six days again and again. He barely believes him even if Max had little trouble in doing so.

  Friend walks through the myriad of underground walkways, finding his way back to the service elevator and returning to the main floor. He feels unclean after the melee, bits and pieces of brain and blood still on his clothes. He makes his way to Foenix’s living quarters on the third floor, forced to walk through the lobby in this unhygienic state.

  As he encounters a series of stares in the social hall, he enters the elevator to escape from view. He exits and walks to the left where Foenix calls his home. He spent enough time figuring out where he lives, following once or twice on occasion. The key to his room is in his clothing. He finds the room and enters, escaping from view.

  The room is much larger that Friend’s but it doesn’t bother him much. He changes his clothes, embraces his typical all black attire with a navy blue shiny shirt, and heads back downstairs.

  The host directs him to Gustav’s location, the cigar club room, where he is continuing to celebrate with his associates. Friend sees Xiong Li, laughing and enjoying himself. Gustav spots Friend and immediately calls for him to join him.

  “So I take it things went as planned,” Gustav asks.

  “Yes, Lord,” Friend replies.

  Gustav has a look of dismay, puzzling then striking fear in Friend. What if he can tell the difference? The worst that could happen at this point is he would just play along, saving face among his group of cronies. Friend knows Gustav would have a tough time killing him, but he would certainly try.

  Gustav grabs Friend thinking he is Foenix, and in secret, distressingly asks, “I thought you were supposed to disappear.”

  “I am. I mean, I will,” Friend assures him. “Within twenty-four hours I will experience hallucinations that will kill me off. If that doesn’t happen, you can have one of your agents do it. Until then I will stay out of sight until you need me.”

  “Very well,” he replies, returning to his table and his cigar.

  Friend exits carefully, trusting that his act was enough to keep him satisfied. He walks back to his room in a lackluster manner. As he looks to the days ahead, he has a tumulus challenge ahead to uncover the ultimate secret, that one clue that he so desperately seeks. And he has to do it behind the scenes, remaining undetected, or else he may tip them off.

  29

  Day 53

  Licht Underground Palace

  Friend wakes up, weary of yet another day. He has discovered himself waking up a little later these past few days as he slowly runs out of conviction. Each new day has felt longer and more daunting, as if the seconds trickle in slowly like drips of water from a leaky faucet. Maybe there is no way to stop the asteroid, he wonders. But he plows ahead anyways, looking for someone, anyone who might provide a clue, or might be a viable linking target, someone with whom Friend can influence their past.

  In the first week he had to contend with the hallucinations. He had learned to control these through training, but their severity grew over the first week, testing his will to continue. Eventually through meditation and rigid self-control he overcame them, and they gradually subsided.

  He emerged after ten or so days, but each lead he has pursued has been fruitless. He tried getting close to Xiong Li, running into him in the cigar bar. The Chinese bureaucrat is cold-hearted, methodical, and steadfast in his loyalty to the Society, unwilling to divulge any details of any kind. He had little trust for Foenix to begin with. After all, how can he trust such a mysterious person appearing in the final days? He could be a double agent as far as he knows.

  Feeling desperate, he made contact with Mara Liang, the high ranking Huludao executive whose device he and Cassie hacked into. The aged woman, with short black hair with strands of silver seemed agitated at something. At first the prospects of linking with her sounded promising. She vented her frustrations at some of the other Society members, feeling alienated that she wasn’t promised a leadership position she so coveted. The more he conversed with her, the more he learned about her dark history. She admitted she slept with various men in the Chinese government, destroying her marriage in the process, all just to be here. Her ugly side was too much to bear though for Friend, and he realized he could never link with her.

  Friend would check in with Fisher, meeting him in secret down in the underground corridors. But even his determination has waned. He is looking ahead to his future, earning a bit more respect from the Society leadership each time he opens up about his past, spinning a story about a covert operation gone wrong, or an assassination attempt he was a part of. He respects Friend and what he is doing, but has become more apprehensive about getting involved in his quest as the days went on.

  So here he is, just completing his morning meditation ritual, plotting a new vector of attack. Today, he thinks to himself, he will find the next person that will provide him the next breadcrumb, the next clue that will bring him closer into the vault that protects the Society’s secrets. He stares at himself in the mirror, studying the full dark facial hair that continues to grow out, unshaven in weeks.

  Upon getting dressed and lacing his shoes, he discovers a piece of paper near his door. This is Fisher and his preferred mechanism of communication. If Fisher wants to chat in the usual spot in the corridors, he slides a blank piece of paper under his door. If it is urgent, he puts an X. Fisher has yet to put an X, but this time looks different. The X is scribbled hard on the paper, traced over many times to make it clear that this is indeed urgent. He crumbles the paper and teleports over there, wasting not a second more.

  He arrives near the doors to the empty hanger where he fought Foenix, but Fisher is nowhere to be found. He paces back and forth a few times through the corridors, wondering if he just gave up and returned upstairs. On a hunch, he opens the doors to the hanger, and to his surprise is Fisher standing alone, staring at the ceiling.

  “You know, we’ve been here for a couple months and they still haven’t told us exactly where we are.” Fisher speaks, a crack of doubt in his voice, as if he is questioning his own purpose.

  “I’ve heard somewhere in China,” Friend responds.

  Fisher slowly turns around to face Friend. “They are secretive. It took me weeks to learn Gustav’s last name. It’s Prast. Gustav Prast.”

  “I know. I’ve been learning all these bits and pieces from various encounters,” Friend responds, wondering if this is the urgent news.

  Fisher remains quiet, internally deliberating something. He gives Friend a confused stare, before finally speaking once more. “I found someone you are going to want to meet. He’s been here the whole time, hiding in his office, avoiding contact with as many people as possible.”

  “Who?”

  “Len Wang.”

  “How? I thought he’s been dead for years.”

  “After a life of espionage, it’s become second nature to extract intel out of people. He does have a strange way of hiding. His office is on the second floor, in the hallways off the foyer.” Fisher then issues a warning, “You didn’t hear this from me.”

  It’s like a light has been turned on after months of darkness. This is the most encouraged Friend has felt since the start of this iteration. It’s been so long, so many days, even his memory of Cassie in that sexy black dress has faded. If this Len Wang is harb
oring a secret, perhaps he can establish a link with him, and he can finally have a key ally.

  He thanks Fisher once and for all before teleporting back to his room. He paces the floor of his room in adulation. What is he going to say? Will he be helpful at all? All he needs are some details of where he is on December 26th. If he can convince him to join his side, this will turn everything around, so much so that it may be worth Cassie’s sacrifice. With all his being he doesn’t want this, but the weight of the world is now in his hands for the very first time.

  The office area is abuzz with various Society workers. They are planning and plotting, working diligently on their devices, unaware that Friend is walking by. Beyond the common areas is another hallway, darker and much more quiet. He walks until he sees it, room 240.

  After a deep breath, he elicits a gentle knock. A second later the door opens, and there stands an aging man, his face weathered with decades of torment. His hair is silver, what remains of it anyway on his balding head. He looks nothing like the youthful, flamboyant CEO that graced the covers of those old magazine snippets he found in his research.

  “Mr. Wang?” Friend asks in confirmation.

  “Call me Len,” he replies.

  The office is small, devoid of windows. He keeps plenty of plants, and special lighting from the ceiling emits a white light intended to emulate the sun, possible to make it tolerant for the plants and Len as well. Len extends his arm, urging Friend to take a seat. There is a moment of silence before Len begins to speak.

  “When I was a boy, I dreamed of going to outer space. It’s what drove me, consumed me, made me successful in my schooling years. During my studies at university, I eventually realized I didn’t have a knack for space travel, but rather entrepreneurship. I found my math and engineering classes quite boring. But along the way I met many contacts who would eventually fund my ideas as I formed my first startup, Space Onyx.”

 

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