The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into the lobby. The milling crowd took notice of her appearance. Some clapped while others cheered or raised glasses or bottles in salute. She politely waved away the offer of more alcohol, escaped the well-wishers through a side door, and made her way down a dark passageway, which snaked behind the stage where she was to give her speech.
A figure moved in the ill-lit walkway. Walker stumbled back until she bumped into the wall.
A man stepped into an illuminated area, holding up an apologetic hand. “Oh, I am so sorry if I scared you. I apologize, but we never had a chance to meet. I am Paul Fitzgerald. We spoke on the phone on numerous occasions.”
“Oh, yes. I recognize your voice.” She looked around. “This passage needs better lighting. I didn’t see you at first.”
Paul’s nose wrinkled at her alcohol-laced breath, but he recovered and smiled. “I agree. Now, if you will follow me, I’ll show you to your waiting place. Professor Antonio Black will introduce you.”
He pointed to a plush black leather chair. Walker sat and closed her eyes, trying to steady both her head and her heart rate.
“Thank you, Paul. I need a minute for my stomach to settle. I’m not very good at giving speeches.”
Walker lowered her head to her knees and steadied her breathing, taking in long gulps of air. From down the hallway, a man introduced Professor Black, who began extolling her virtues in the field of science, calling her a national treasure. Walker rolled her eyes to the ceiling at the gushing praise. If only they knew what I did.
Paul touched her shoulder. She rose and followed him down a short passage and stood in the shadows cast by a pair of red curtains. Professor Black turned to Walker and motioned for her to enter the stage. Walker moved toward him, swaying slightly from drink, but she smiled and took his hand.
Professor Black stood to her left while she fumbled with a microphone, attaching it to her lapel. She scanned the crowd and spotted her target; sitting front row center was the younger version of herself. Young Walker beamed at her with the confidence of a mislead martyr.
She sighed at the arrogant youth and cleared her throat. “Thank you for the applause, ladies and gentlemen, but, I am afraid to say, I’m not so deserving of your praise, for we’ve made mistakes in our quest to cure cancer. I have a prepared speech that I want to read to you.”
Walker reached into her jacket, her fingers coiling around the butt of the pistol. She unholstered the weapon in one fluid motion and aimed at her younger self. She said nothing and pulled the trigger. The temporal bullet was true, smashing into the woman’s shoulder and sending the crowd rushing for the emergency exits. Walker jumped off the stage and kept the Berreta trained on the stunned woman.
Her younger self grimaced, holding a hand over the wound. “What the hell are you doing? I helped you and gave you advanced medical knowledge. The other people at the research center were right; you are crazy.”
“Stop your whining. If I had shot you with a conventional bullet, you would be going into shock.”
“But ...” She stopped talking for a moment, clenching her teeth. Young Walker fixed her with hard eyes. “Why?”
The lights in the room burned with an intense white light, and the walls and furniture became insubstantial. Agent Walker sighed. “You’ll find out when we get back to our time.”
TEMPORAL AGENT WALKER stood to attention before the League of the Guardians. Marshal Thompson swiped his finger over his tablet, eyes searching the report. He placed the account down and folded his hands.
“Agent Walker, you are to be commended for your selfless commitment to duty. I know we asked a great deal of you, but you do take after your father, who believed one should always clean up his own mess.”
He made a gesture toward the inner sanctum door, and the rest of the guardians filed outside.
“I wanted to say this in private. Your intentions were good. However, you gave advanced knowledge to another well-meaning individual. Yes, you would have cured cancer, but in the course of several generations, fewer and fewer male children would be born, condemning the human race to extinction. Your use of a temporal bullet with your DNA took your younger self out of the timeline, and we could seal away that branch of history.”
Walker swallowed hard. “Anything else, sir?”
“No. You will be assigned to records for half a year, then you will be reinstated as a full-fledged temporal agent.”
She saluted, turned on her heel, and strode to the door.
Before she left, Thompson called after her, “Agent Walker, from now on, please contain your actions to correcting history and not changing it.”
The Day That Wasn’t
Taylor Roth
“LORIANNE MAXWELL.”
After unsticking my legs from the leather couch, I made my way into the back room at the prompting of my name. The council room was exactly how I last remembered it; its inconceivably tall ceilings and nearly barren white walls were still just as imposing as the first time I sat down in front of the council. It seemed like the goal of the interior decorator was to make the room feel as ominous as possible. The feeling of the room was in stark contrast to the council themselves, though, and, taking my seat across the conference table, I was immediately relieved of any atmospheric tension.
“Lori!” The youngest of the group’s faces lit up, seeing me take my seat.
Giavoni’s excitement was more than expected. What I didn’t expect, though, was for her to prop herself up on the table and walk across to give me a huge bear hug in my seat. After her incredibly bone-crushing hug, she sat on the edge of the table next to me. Her feet dangled off the table, swinging like a child in a chair much too big for her. She, like the rest of the council, was in her formal pinstripe suit, but her actions couldn’t be further from professional.
“Nice to see you too, Gia,” I said, just a little startled by the burst of affection.
“Ms. Laparti has been quite worried about your safety, actually. That is one of the reasons we called you today,” Preston, one of the other timekeepers, explained.
Preston was only in his mid-thirties but had an attitude that made it seem like he was much older. He was more or less the vice president of the timekeepers’ council. I thought that he may as well be the leader considering that Pax could be a little bit of a loose cannon, but then again, trying to imagine Preston not taking orders and giving them seemed a bit like a nightmare scenario. Not that he didn’t make good decisions, but he was much softer than his superior. Pax made tough choices just as easily as they made simple ones.
“Something about a death threat, right? Don’t worry, Gia; this is not the first one, nor will it be the last one.” I gave a wink to Giavoni, trying to lighten the mood.
She gave a small smile in response, but I could tell she was still worried by the small creases next to her eyes. I could tell that this case had really rattled her.
Preston rolled his eyes at my comment. “She has a fair reason to worry. In fact, I think you should be worried too, Ms. Maxwell.”
“Well, who has it out for me this time?”
Pax sighed at my question. “Wish we knew. I think we were hoping a certain detective might be able to shed some light on the matter.”
“No case for two months, and then the next one is a ‘life on the line mission.” Sounds about right. You said that was one of the reasons you called me in. I assume there are other reasons.”
Pax gave a dry laugh. “Not everyone looks at a death threat and sees it as a good thing, darling. Your tenacity is what makes you one of my more favorable people to work with.”
Pax had a resting bored face. They were never particularly surprised by anything. I think someone could jump through a time rift and straight-up murder me right here in the conference room, and all Pax would do is yawn and get a janitor. It was one of their more admirable qualities too. They had no problems with getting blood on their own hands, and they had a nonexistent moral com
pass. If it weren’t for the rest of the council, I think that Pax would be a good candidate for a serial killer at best and one of the most dangerous tyrants of the era at worst.
A beige folder was slid across the table from the last member of the council. Markian Johnson was the backbone of the council, really. She seemed to do most of the research into cases and seemed like the quiet type. Her notes in her reports were where her real personality showed. Looking through the file, I couldn’t help but smile. At the top of the first page was a scorecard that listed the “Number of Death Threats Sent to Lorianne Maxwell.”
“Does this count verbal threats from cases? This number seems a bit low.”
Giavoni looked over my shoulder at the document in front of me. She shook her head, still swinging her legs off the side of the desk. “Nope. Those are only the formal ones that were written to us.”
“Comforting,” I joked.
“This time is different, Ms. Maxwell, I assure you of that,” Preston said as he looked down at the file in my hands, gesturing for me to keep reading.
The timestamp was one I had never seen before. “Are you sending me to a time loop?”
The date read that I would be traveling in between the ninth and tenth of January in the year 1928. This wouldn’t be the first time I was sent to a time loop, but normally the time stamp wasn’t in between days like this.
Pax shook their head. “Actually, no. The time seems to be an extra day. It is a time quite literally existing outside of the ninth and tenth of January.”
“Like a leap day?”
Preston corrected me, saying, “No, because February 29 is a day that exists. This day never happened, which is why we can’t send her there.”
The second part of his statement was directed toward Pax. Their face, as usual, looked bored and unwavering. “That is why we are sending our dear detective to January 9 ... a day we know existed.”
“Technically, we do know that the day in between did happen or that it does happen. I wish it was just more clear to us why it happens,” said Markian.
Markian had never given a case to me with so many unknown variables. Normally, time anomalies were cut and dry to the council. It was starting to make more sense why this case had the council—well, most of the council—quite worried. I don’t think Pax contained the ability to worry.
Giavoni jumped off the table and paced in the space beside me. “Markie, while we are getting into technicalities, why don’t you tell her about how no other agent has technically returned from the day in between the eighth and the ninth.”
“I mean, technically, Agent Katie Renning returned,” Pax interjected.
Giavoni glared at Pax. “Yeah, in a body bag.”
“Can I see the body?” I asked.
“Ew, why?” Giavoni said, quite taken aback by the question.
Markian sighed. “Obviously, Detective Maxwell is curious about the condition of the body. She is a detective after all, and investigating is part of the job description of an investigator.”
Pax nodded in agreement. “The body was actually sent to a lab for testing, but fear not, dear detective; I have photos and the initial autopsy report for you.” Pax slid an envelope my way.
I took a deep breath before opening it, unaware of what I might find. It was worse than I originally feared. The face in the photo was unrecognizable as a person. I quickly covered up the photos, suddenly aware of the pit growing in my stomach. I felt the mixture of nerves and disgust threatening my lunch I had eaten only an hour previously.
“This threat ... What did it say exactly?”
Pax smiled. “Afraid of a little blood, Maxwell?”
“No,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t a total lie. The thing that struck me the most about the photo was her dislocated jaw hanging open. A little blood wasn’t the problem ... it was a lot of blood. A bloody mass that used to be an agent—an agent who probably was doing the same job I was about to—was now more meat than human.
“Good. Wouldn’t want one of my best detectives getting squeamish on me now, especially since your note is written in her blood.”
Then I saw it—actually, I smelled the metallic smell of the dried blood first. The note addressed to me was written in pretty, dark-red cursive writing.
Dear Lorianne Maxwell,
Let this body be a lesson to you. If you make our plans more difficult for us, as I suspect you will, then you’re next. Turn yourself over to us, and perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement where I spare your life. Your council knows where to find us. Do look forward to our chat ... and do look forward to bashing your brains in if necessary.
Sincerely,
The Hope of Tomorrow
P.S. I suggest you come alone unless you wish to have your accomplice become collateral damage.
Pax shrugged. “At least they kept their message short and sweet.”
“Always looking on the bright side, huh?” I said.
“Someone has to.”
Preston rolled his eyes, finding our banter to be not at all funny. “It is very rare for one of our agents to be killed. The gruesome manner of death is also rare among those agents who have passed. I believe that, even here, you are in grave danger.”
Giavoni shuttered, reading the letter over my shoulder. “Every single time I see that letter, it makes me anxious. I can’t even imagine how it must feel to be on the receiving end of the letter.”
Markian coughed to get my attention, and I looked up at her, trying not to get lost in my own thoughts. “Lori, we believe that this ‘Hope of Tomorrow’ might have their own ways of messing with time. The slowing of the rotation of the Earth to create an extra day in time is unprecedented.”
“Mrs. Johnson is correct,” agreed Preston. “This mission is easily the highest-stakes case you’ve covered ... that is, if you choose to cover it.”
Pax looked irritated at Preston’s statement. I now know that they are in disagreement about if I should go or not.
“What do you mean when you say if I choose to accept it?”
“I, personally, think that this mission is too high of a risk. It would be best if you went into hiding until the situation with this ‘Hope of Tomorrow’ is resolved. I would rather not lose another agent in this case.”
“That is precisely why she should go! If you truly don’t want to lose more agents, then this capable detective should go, instead of anyone else who has the same potential to end up dead like Agent Renning. They obviously want something from Maxwell. Let her go figure out what it is,” argued Pax.
Giavoni sighed. “Pax, it is her decision. It is her life on the line.”
“Just like every other mission we’ve sent her on, her life is always on the line, and this time is no different!”
Preston got out of his chair in a huff. “You know exactly why this is different!”
Pax rolled their eyes. “What happened to Renning was a tragedy, but if we truly want to figure out this new threat, then I think the only opinion is to send her.”
Giavoni looked at me, wanting to hear my input on the matter. I hated to admit it, but I agreed with Pax. While their reasoning seemed a bit callous, they were right. They were almost always right.
“If you want to go into hiding, then I have a remote cabin upstate you could stay in,” Giavoni said. “We could send another agent up with you for extra protection.”
“Gia, you know that I can’t just hide out. Besides, Pax has a point. If you guys are going to find out about The Hope of Tomorrow guys, then I think I have the best shot at getting that info for you. They obviously think I am some sort of threat to their master plan. It seems that talking to me before killing me is necessary to them so ... maybe they want something from me.”
Preston said, “Ms. Maxwell, we have absolutely no way of knowing if your hypothesis is corre—”
Pax cut him off. “If she doesn’t try, we will never know.”
“I’ve made my decision to accept the case,” I said.
/> “I knew you’d see things my way. You have a level head on your shoulders and can see past ... emotional roadblocks. In some ways, you remind me much of myself, darling.”
I know Pax meant it to be praise, but I couldn’t help but shutter at their compliment. The thought of being like Pax made my stomach turn even sourer than seeing the mass that used to be Katie Renning’s head. I did have emotional roadblocks, and the prospect of ending up dead, like actually dead, made me wanna go home and pack my things. Still, the thought of someone else dying in my place would eat away at my soul. I had to take this case. The option of running was tempting, but it wasn’t truly an option for me.
Giavoni could tell the comment made me uncomfortable and tried to distract me from the pit twisting in my stomach. “I think it’s less of a lack of emotional roadblocks and more of a hero complex. Either way, you are stubborn as hell, but that is why you are one of my favorite detectives here.”
“I would also get so bored just waiting around. This two-month dry spell already has me itching for a high-stakes case anyway.”
Markian bit her lip. “Sorry about that. Sending you on another case seemed risky. We were just hoping to solve this anomaly before dragging you into the mix. We weren’t aware of what we were up against, and sending you into an obvious trap seemed ... unfair. I guess we don’t have many other options now, though.”
“We will figure this out, and don’t worry about it too much, Markie. I don’t plan to end up dead anytime soon.”
“Mrs. Renning didn’t plan to end up dead, either. Are you sure this is a case you want to take, Ms. Maxwell?” Preston asked, sitting back in his seat with a long sigh. “They made it quite clear that they wish you harm. I know you are quite capable of defending yourself, but so was Mrs. Renning. This ‘Hope of Tomorrow’ sounds to me like a decently-sized group of people, and going in alone ... It just sounds like a death sentence to me.”
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