by Sophie Davis
“I guess you don’t need me anymore, huh? Now that you’ve got bigger and better protectors?” Trista hiccupped. “Fine. Forget you.” She spun on her heel and ran inside the dorm.
“You okay?” Bazzle asked.
I nodded.
“She’s just jealous.”
“I know.”
“She was also never an option for the job you were offered,” he said gently. “You didn’t steal anything.”
Though his words were a relief, I knew there was no point in looking for Trista to convey this new detail to her. It wouldn’t matter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Atlic and the other man start walking towards the helo.
“Real friends are happy for each other when good things happen to them,” Bazzle continued.
“I know that, too,” I told him.
“No, I don’t think you do. Not yet, anyhow. But you will. There are good people on the island. You’ll find ones you fit with. Come on, it’s time to go.”
Still upset over my bitter parting with Trista, I followed Bazzle to the helo. Climbing aboard the luxurious aircraft should have been a triumphant moment. And yet, it wasn’t. Feeling sad that I couldn’t enjoy this sudden happening as much as I wanted to, I vowed to shake off the dark cloud of Trista’s anger.
“So,” I began boldly, once the dusty crops were nothing more than tiny dots on the rural landscape below and it was too late to turn back. “What’s the deal with my new job? What will I be acquiring?”
Cyrus and I were sitting across from each other in the helo’s passenger cabin, with Bazzle and the other associate up front in the lead seats.
“You don’t waste any time do you?” He laughed.
“I’d just like to know what I signed up for,” I replied.
“And I will tell you. You deserve that.” Cyrus took a sip of the scotch he’d received from an automated beverage and snack machine beside the table. “As I said earlier, my business is in acquisitions. I specialize in antiquities mostly, though we can accommodate other requests. My clients come to me with a request for an item lost to the bowels of history and I locate that item using my vast network. Then, you the acquirer—the actual job title is ‘Runner’—will retrieve the item.”
I shook my head, confused. “But if it’s lost, how do you find it?”
Cyrus grinned. “It might be lost in our current time, but I track down the last known location in history.”
“And then trace it from then to now?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” Cyrus hedged, studying my expression for a reaction. “Many items were destroyed entirely during the Epic War. So, I find it’s easier to simply go to the time we’ve located it in and grab the item when we know where it is.”
“As in, I travel through time and steal the mystery item before it can be lost forever?”
In the camp, there had always been rumors of time traveling bandits. But I’d assumed the stories were purely fiction. Even still, some nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d lie in my bed and dream up tales about these time pirates and their great adventures.
“That is precisely what you will do,” he said evenly. Cyrus leaned forward, elbows resting on the small table between us. “Are you still interested, Stassi? Or should I scrounge up a mop with your name on it?”
“Oh, I’m interested,” I replied, matching his emerald stare. “Very interested.”
My new boss is still sitting across from me, gazing out of the window as I write this. Sure, I’ve considered the fact he might be insane, his description of my new job the mere ramblings of a madman. But I don’t think insanity breeds diamond watches and private helos. What I do know is this: Cyrus Atlic has already been kinder to me than anyone else has ever been before. He saved me from the company men, he scolded the Head Matron on my behalf, and he took me away from the camp. So, I’m going to see this through.
Speaking of Cyrus, he just told me to look out the window, at my new home. I am beyond overwhelmed by my first glimpse of Branson Isle. Even from the sky, I can tell that the vegetation is lush and the flowers bright and fragrant. White sand beaches wrap the island in a warm embrace. The water lapping the shores is so clear that I can see all the way to the ocean floor, where coral reefs are visible.
Already I am in love with my new home. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. It is hardly possible that I will truly be living in such a place. Maybe Sterla hit me over the head with a shovel and this has all been nothing more than a dream?
If so, I hope never to wake.
Cyrus said this job, being a Runner, is dangerous and challenging. I don’t doubt that it’s true. In fact, I hope that it is. I have waited my entire life to be challenged. I am both terrified and excited by what the future holds for me.
Or, maybe I should say, by what the past holds for me…
Thank you for taking the time to read 2446-89: Stassi’s Diary.
To continue Stassi’s story with The Syndicate (Timewaves #1) click HERE for your complimentary copy!
