Epoch: The Dark Ages Part 1

by Terry Schott

  “No.” She laughed and smacked him on the behind. “I like your body, too.”

  He shook his head again, pretending to be disgusted. Then he grinned and put his arm around her, pulling her close. “We are a funny couple. I love you for your brains, and you love me for my looks.”

  “Totally opposite from the rest of the world.” She laughed. “To our fans, I’m the supermodel and you’re the computer genius.”

  “I have a confession to make.” His grin disappeared. “I like you for your looks and body too.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened in mock surprise, then she shrugged. “Since we’re being honest, I do enjoy your brains as well.”

  The couple laughed, then kissed. Luke lifted the hatch of the sports car and retrieved the stack of presents. He stood and Emma closed the trunk. They made their way along the walkway toward the front door.

  “I wish this was already over with.” Luke groaned.

  “Stop it. You love your family.”

  “I know, but these gatherings are such a pain.”

  They reached the door and Emma grabbed the handle and paused, grinning as she stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. “Oh, did I forget to mention it’s only your parents and sister here today?”

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “I’m not. The aunts and uncles and cousins weren’t invited to this one.”

  “Evil woman. You could have told me that earlier.”

  “And miss the expression of relief on your face as we walk in?” Emma chuckled and opened the door, gesturing for Luke to enter.

  “Hello.” Emma spoke loudly. “Your favourite daughter-in-law has arrived, and I’ve brought your miserable child with me.”

  A woman’s voice floated toward them. “In the kitchen.”

  Luke kicked his shoes off and turned left, carrying the presents into another room while Emma removed her shoes, set them by the door, and reached out with one foot to set Luke’s neatly beside hers. He emerged from the other room and grabbed her outstretched hand, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek as they made their way to the kitchen.

  When they entered the kitchen, people all began speaking at once. Luke and Emma wove their way around the large centre island and took turns hugging his mother, who was standing at the stove. Then the two of them moved to the dining table to hug his father and sister who stood up as the two approached. A young man stood up from his chair beside Gwen, Luke’s sister, a smile on his face as Luke stuck out his hand and the two shook.

  “I’m guessing you’re Gwen’s boyfriend,” Luke said.

  “Yeah.” The young man’s grin widened. “Name’s Justin. It’s so awesome to meet you, Luke. I’m a huge fan.”

  Luke chuckled as his sister tapped Justin on the shoulder. “So much for playing it cool.”

  Justin blushed. “I tried, Gwen. I know that, to you, he’s just your brother, but to the rest of the world, he’s a rock star.”

  Gwen shook her head and sighed. “He’s bigger than most rock stars, we all know that.” She grinned at her brother and kissed Justin on the cheek. “It’s okay, sport. You did fine.”

  “You certainly did.” Luke’s mother nodded while she stirred the food cooking in the large frying pan in front of her. “Somebody bring me that bowl on the island, please.”

  Luke’s father grabbed the bowl and kissed his wife as he placed it on the counter beside her.

  “Grab the oven, mitts, hun,” she said. “I’ll move in a minute and you can get the trays out of the oven.”

  “Look at us, perfect timing for breakfast.” Luke held a chair for Emma, then went to a cupboard and grabbed plates. Gwen retrieved silverware from a drawer and began setting the table.

  “Smelled the bacon?” Luke’s dad asked.

  Luke laughed as he put the plates on the table and went to the fridge, removing two pitchers, one of orange juice and the other grapefruit. He paused for a beat while Gwen walked behind him with glasses in her hand. Then he closed the door and placed the jugs on the table. He pulled out the chair beside Emma and paused. “Should I sit beside your new boyfriend instead, Gwen?”

  There was laughter at the table and Justin joined in, shaking his head. “Of course not.” He smiled. “I can see you better if you’re sitting across from me.”

  ***

  When clean-up was complete, everyone moved to the sitting room and Luke’s mother opened her birthday presents. Then Luke’s father served coffee and they brought each other up to speed on the happenings in their lives.

  Luke’s mother talked about her newest writing project. Emma managed to coax Luke’s dad into pulling up the newest video of his jazz band’s performance and they all listened with genuine interest. In return, he demanded to hear the details of her newest photo shoot which had taken place last month in the Bahamas. Gwen talked about her time at school and the stresses of being in her fourth and final year of a business program. Luke’s mother asked Justin about his time at school—Gwen and he were in the same program—as well as his plans for the future.

  “And what about you, Luke?” Justin asked.

  “What about me? I play games while everyone does real work for a living.”

  “Are you developing any new games?”

  Luke laughed. “I don’t develop games.”

  “You consulted on Scarlet Dominion and that comic-based MMORPG for the publishing company, though.”

  “True, but most of the time I prefer to play. That’s how I make my living.”

  “It’s always surprising to hear you say that.” Luke’s mother shook her head. “Making money, incredible amounts of it, for playing games.”

  “It’s a good gig, Mom.”

  “We’re proud of you.” His father reached out and patted Luke’s arm. “We’re proud of all of you. My son is a world-famous gaming celebrity, my daughter-in-law a supermodel, and I have no doubt that my daughter will control an international company, or succeed at whatever she puts her mind to.”

  “Good parenting,” Justin said.

  “Meh.” Luke’s father shrugged. “Parents ask for too much credit. Kids are pretty easy to raise. Make sure they’re fed and stop ‘em from wandering into traffic. The rest pretty much takes care of itself.”

  After the laughter died down, Luke nodded at his mom. “Hey, Mom. You’re in the literary world.”

  “I am.”

  “You hear about that book Sticks and Stones?”

  “Who hasn’t? Wish I had written it. I’m not sure how high the royalty cheque is up to now, but it’s impressive.”

  “Over six million,” Justin said.

  Luke’s father whistled and his mother nodded.

  “No idea who wrote it, huh?” Luke asked.

  “Not a clue. No one knows.”

  “That’s a shame. I’d like to talk to the author.”

  “Why?”

  Luke shrugged. “Hey, Justin, I brought my new car. Wanna take it for a spin?”

  Justin’s eyes widened. “The Tandale XJ12?”

  Luke smiled. “You’ve heard of it.”

  “Dude. Everyone’s heard of it. There are only three in existence.”

  Luke stood, kissed Emma, and headed toward the front door. “Let’s give it a go.”

  Justin jogged to catch up.

  9

  Gavin stepped off the elevator and trudged down the hallway, stopping when he reached his apartment door. He opened it, stepped in, dropped his briefcase on the floor, and stood there chewing his lip. Then he sighed, shut the door, and reached for a hanger as he shrugged off his jacket.

  He made his way down the narrow hallway, not bothering to turn any lights on, his feet making a faint thudding on the hardwood floor. Reaching the desk, he pulled the chair out and plopped down into it, turning to face the closed laptop in the centre of the white veneered surface. One hand reached up to rub his face while the other opened the laptop. Gavin squinted at the sudden white light from his screen. He opened his music program and
selected a soothing piece of jazz. As the music drifted out of the speakers, Gavin closed his eyes and let his mind drift, moving his head in time with the music.

  He remained that way, an index finger stroking the bridge of his nose. When the song was over, he opened his eyes and opened his email, scanning for anything interesting. Halfway down the first page, a subject line caught his eye: Sedition

  Gavin opened the message:

  Hello there!

  I am a huge fan of your book, Sticks and Stones. I stumbled upon it by accident when I was flying on business. My flight was four hours and I didn’t put the book down the entire flight!

  There are so many amazing concepts in the story. Over the course of the past six months, I have found myself returning to read it again and again. I’m sure you get email like this all the time, but I was wondering if there will be a sequel and, if so, when we can expect it to come out.

  Thanks for taking the time to read this,

  Chris.

  P.S. I know you did not write this book, but since the author is not being revealed, I hoped that you might forward my message to him or her. It’s a him, isn’t it?

  Gavin chuckled and shook his head. “Another fan hoping to find the author by contacting the publisher.” He closed the email and went over the rest of his messages, replying to the important ones, deleting the spam, and leaving the few newsletters and trade correspondence for later. Forty-five minutes later, he went to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water.

  An idea occurred to him. Gavin opened the message from the fan, read it once more, then clicked the reply button.

  Hi Chris, he began. Thanks for reading, Sticks and Stones. I’m glad that you enjoyed it. Of course, you’re right, I didn’t write it. The truth is that we don’t know who did. We are starting a contest, inviting fans across the world to help us find the author. There will be a prize of—Gavin stopped typing, took a sip of water, smiled, then resumed—fifty thousand dollars for anyone able to lead us to the author. We know that it’s a long shot, but you’re right, there is definitely a second book to this one, and we want to make sure it gets written and published by us at Brave World Publishing. Let me know if you come up with anything. Thanks again for the message.

  Best,

  Gavin

  P.S. I think the author is a guy too!

  Gavin read the e-mail over, then clicked Send.

  He closed the laptop and stood, moving to his chair and reaching for a manuscript from his pile of new prospects to sort through. He opened the first page and began to read, quickly forgetting the email.

  10

  Ariel heard the swishing sound of the door opening and looked up from her monitor as Victor entered the room.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Tedious.”

  He chuckled. “I expect so.” He pulled a chair from an empty desk, dragging it behind him. He sat beside her and glanced at her notebook. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but have you found anything promising?”

  “You’ve taken a needle, thrown it into a haystack, then blindfolded me and filled the world with millions of other haystacks.”

  Victor’s mouth twitched. “I think you’re being kind.”

  Ariel laughed. “You’re right. It’s more like finding half a grain of rice hidden in a million-mile stretch of sand.”

  “That sounds more accurate.”

  She shook her head. “I think that he will eventually come forward and make a grab for the money that’s sitting there waiting for him. No one can pass up millions of dollars forever.”

  “You said ‘him’.”

  Ariel raised her eyebrows. “I am fairly certain that it’s a male.”

  Victor clapped his hands together without making any sound. “And you told me you were making no headway. You’ve already cut the search in half.”

  “Even more than that.” She flipped through her notebook and stopped at a page. “He’s an author.”

  “Obviously.”

  “No, I mean an experienced author.”

  “You think so?”

  “The story was written very well. Much better than a novice could do on their first or second attempt.”

  “There are people who write their entire lives and never publish a thing.”

  Ariel took a breath and exhaled. “That’s true.”

  “Still.” Victor frowned and shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt to focus on the group you’ve selected first. If nothing turns up there, then you can always broaden the net. I expect you to find more than one anyway.”

  “More than one?”

  “Absolutely. With the operation set up as it is, I expect to identify hundreds, maybe thousands of security threats and dissidents.”

  “I see.” Ariel nodded. “You don’t intend for me to spend all of my time sitting behind a desk after all.”

  “Of course not. You’re an assassin, Ariel. There will be lots of work for you to do in that department before we find the author.”

  “We will likely never find him.”

  He shrugged. “I’m aware of that. This exercise was funded with the understanding that, even should we not succeed in our ultimate goal, the traitors and insurgents that would be rooted out and eliminated would more than pay the cost of throwing the party.”

  “Good.” She stood, reached over to turn off the monitor, and closed her notebook, which she tucked into her bag. “I would go crazy sitting in here doing nothing but computer work.”

  “Calling it a night?” Victor stood as well.

  “A bit of field research to do first. How ‘bout you?”

  He looked at his watch. “Soon.”

  “I have already identified three individuals that we can definitely classify as treasonous.”

  “Send the names to me in the morning. Once we they are properly vetted, I will issue kill orders for you.”

  “And I’ll work them into my schedule.” Ariel smiled.

  “I’m sure you will.”

  ***

  Curtis sat at the table, a polite smile on his face as people walked past. A banner of his newest book, Tango Child, hung from a frame behind him. He wondered for the hundredth time what he was doing here. I never sell print books. No one here even seems to recognize me or know my work.

  That wasn’t entirely true. During the past four hours, many people had come over, excited to meet him and expressing how much they enjoyed his work. The problem in his mind wasn’t that some did recognize him, it was that most didn’t.

  If I have to grin while another old lady tells me that digital books will never take off, I’m gonna lose it. He looked at his watch and nodded. Ten minutes ‘til close. Good enough.

  He grabbed the stack of books from the table and bent over to place them in the box near his feet.

  “Oh thank god.” A woman’s voice spoke from in front of him. “I made it in time.”

  Curtis looked up and his breath caught in his throat. A beautiful woman stood there, looking down at him, panting with her hand on her chest. “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi.” She smiled and pursed her lips, blowing out a breath of air. “Sorry, I’m winded. Ran all the way from the parking lot afraid that I was too late to meet you and you’d already left.”

  “Meet me?”

  She held a hand up, closing her eyes as her breathing became more even. Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him once more. “Yes, meet you. You’re Curtis Tremaine. I’m a huge fan of your writing.”

  “Really?” This woman is stunning. And she’s here to see me.

  She laughed. “I don’t know why you sound so surprised. I bet this place was packed earlier.”

  Curtis felt his cheeks get warm. “It was a good turnout. I don’t normally do book signings. One of my fans works here and he kept begging me to do it, so I agreed. Most of my stuff is exclusive to e-bo—”

  “E-books. Absolutely.” She pulled her smartphone from her pocket and held it up. “I have all of your books tucked away in
here. Makes total sense. Still, if you’ve got a copy of your new book, I would love to buy it from you.”

  “Of course.” He retrieved a copy from the box on the floor.

  “Sweet!” She smiled and clapped her hands. When Curtis looked up, he discovered that she was only a few inches away. He blinked and forgot what he was doing.

  “Um—”

  “Look at that cover.” She reached out, trailing her fingers along the book’s surface. “I can’t wait to get my hands on it. When I heard you were coming to town for a signing, I made myself wait to buy the hard copy.” She grinned, and he did the same. “Normally I read your stories the very first day that they come out. It’s been over a week and I thought I was going to go insane with the suspense.”

  “I’m glad you made it in time.” Curtis smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to go crazy on account of my stories.”

  Her smile disappeared and she looked toward the ground. “Say, I know this might sound crazy, but I was wondering . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Well.” She looked up at him and paused, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “Since I’m such a big fan. I was hoping you might agree to let me buy you a coffee.”

  “Really?” He frowned.

  She shook her head. “No, you’re right. That’s a dumb idea. I’m sorry to bother you like that. I know how busy you must—”

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Her smile returned. “Great.” She reached into her purse and removed a twenty-dollar bill. “Let me purchase your book and then we can go get going. When you’re done here, that is.”

  “I’m done.”

  “Excellent. Would you mind signing it?”

  Curtis laughed. “That’s kind of the whole purpose for me being here.”

  “Right.” She laughed. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

  Ha! I don’t remember ever being so nervous. I’m really going to get a coffee with this lady? “No problem.” He smiled as he took the cap off of his marker and opened the front flap of the book. “Who should I make it out to.”

  “To me.” She furrowed her eyebrows and both of them laughed. “You knew that.”