The Temporal

by CJ Martín

  “Look me in the eye and tell me you do not love me—that you do not desire me.”

  Sam was lost. Her eyes were beautiful—strange, but beautiful.

  “Samuel, you know I love you,” she said, licking her lips. “Say it.”

  It was Suteko’s appearance, but those were not Suteko’s eyes. Suteko’s eyes were kinder; these were burning and yet utterly compelling. Sam looked deeper. Her eyes were magnificent. Not Suteko’s but magnificent and somehow familiar.

  “You... not Suteko.”

  “Who I am is of no importance. It is only that we are here now. Drink deeply, my love. Today, we fulfill our destiny. I was wrong to have sought your hurt. Together, we can remake the world in our image. Together, we will.”

  Sam saw stars appear. A memory suddenly came to his mind. He knew why her eyes had seemed familiar—not the same, but similar. Stars... He had seen stars at McGregor’s apartment. The stars in the Nephloc’s eyes. The globe. The other one in DC was... Kaileen.

  “No!”

  Sam pushed Suteko off the bed and, rolling off the other side, he leaped for the door. In an instant, Kaileen was on him. The two fell to the lightly carpeted floor. She no longer pretended, her red hair tickling Sam’s cheeks. She had him pinned down. Her small frame was deceptive; she had the strength to keep him and several other grown men in place. She was smiling, her eyes bulging.

  “Oh, Samuel. How much pain could have been avoided had you just chosen me instead of her. I could have given you far more than she is worth. Far more!”

  “What do you want?”

  “Your head.”

  She arched her neck and moved close enough for their noses to almost touch. Her eyes bore down on him. Sam weakened and looked back into her eyes. He saw desire and, for an instant, his whole being wanted to give that desire what it wanted, no matter the cost.

  Sam shook his head, breaking the trance. His mind was freed, but Kaileen was still on top of him, holding his body prisoner. He had personal knowledge of the demon woman’s strength and especially with his weakened state, he knew he could not prevail physically. He closed his eyes tightly and turned to the side.

  “Suteko.” It was a whisper, but was quickly followed by a shout. “Suteko! Marcus!”

  Her right hand, palm flat, hit his chest with a force that knocked the breath out of Sam. He had to struggle to refill his lungs with enough air. There would be no more shouting for help.

  “Don’t struggle. This won’t hurt, love.”

  He felt his arms still pinned, but somehow she had both hands on his cheeks, turning his head toward her again. Her thumbs dug into his eye sockets and then released quickly. The sudden pain and then relief caused Sam to open his eyes wide. It was enough to make eye contact, enough to convince him to stare.

  As her right hand moved to his forehead, he began to melt into her eyes again. Her fingers, spread wide and bent, touched his forehead and upper cheeks. He felt a rush of uncontrollable thoughts fly into and out of his head. Images and sounds and tastes and feelings began a motion that was impossible to track.

  Just as he felt he could no longer maintain consciousness, he heard a loud noise. Unlike the other noises and sights, this noise was from outside and not a product of his mind.

  He felt his forehead instantly loosed from her grip. His eyes were also clear. He saw that she was no longer on top of him. He was free from her bewitching gaze and her hold.

  He was even more surprised to see his arms straight out in front of him. In his arms, he saw strength and determination that had not failed him—even if his eyes had strayed, his deep-seated will prevailed. The red-headed woman was thrown through the wall and partially into the bathroom across the room. He had managed to not only break from her eyes but to strike back as well.

  “What’s going on?”

  It was Suteko—the real Suteko—and she was standing in the doorway.

  “Watch out!” shouted Sam.

  Kaileen turned the corner and then lurched out the door and into the hall, knocking over Suteko before she could process what Sam had said.

  “Kaileen,” said Suteko with more than a hint of anger in her voice. She was helped up by Marcus and the two rushed to Sam’s side.

  “My boy, did she hurt you?”

  “No… My chest hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

  Marcus helped him sit up straight while Suteko went to get him some water.

  “Sam, can you tell me where she is?” asked Marcus as Suteko arrived with the glass.

  Sam closed his eyes. He now knew her pattern and what to look for. Why he didn’t realize it earlier—he had been asleep and his dreams had betrayed him. He would learn to listen even in his sleep; he would learn to watch for Kaileen at all times.

  “Yes. She is near, but leaving fast. Two blocks from here. 92nd street intersection. Heading east.”

  In a flash, the old man was gone.

  Suteko sat next to him and began massaging his arms. In contrast to the fingers of Kaileen, Suteko’s hands were warm and therapeutic.

  “Is Marcus stronger than she is?” asked Sam.

  “Marcus may look old, but don’t let that fool you. He knows things she doesn’t. Don’t worry.”

  She leaned over, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Then, she fell down next to Sam against the wall of the hotel room, placing her arm around him. They spent the next few minutes in silence, content to hear nothing more than their own breathing.

  Epilogue

  President Hollenbeck stayed true to his word and did not seek the office. His supporters were en masse encouraging him to run. They said, quite correctly, that not running would be handing the election to the other party. He played the noble statesman in media interviews, choosing the public good over his private ambitions.

  Inwardly, however, he was seething.

  The promises of that woman were nothing. McGregor was dead and so were Hollenbeck’s political aspirations. The FBI was quietly investigating what he knew and when. McGregor’s true nature and involvement were to be released to the media upon conclusion of the investigation. Hollenbeck knew there could be implications, even if only circumstantial.

  The Speaker of the House, Brad Gardner who only a week before was labeled the “zombie candidate” was sworn in as president the following January. He had no love for President Hollenbeck, but once it was clear Hollenbeck had done nothing illegal, President Gardner approached Hollenbeck and they co-authored an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal urging the nation to move on.

  Suteko and Sam were pardoned by the outgoing Hollenbeck who knew good publicity when he saw it. The two quietly returned to Japan. There, Suteko received some unwanted attention when some enterprising newspaper reporter uncovered the name of the “unnamed Japanese national” who was believed to have helped Todd McGregor expose the terrorists.

  From that, questions of her origins arose. She had documents proving her Japanese citizenship, but when Yomiuri Newspaper reporters searched for her parents—hoping for a scoop—it was discovered that they didn’t exist. Allegations of identity theft and increased attention from the press, made it clear that she could no longer stay in Japan.

  The press in Japan had a field day, but without official charges and the validity of her citizenship not being in question, the government could not prevent Suteko and Sam from leaving.

  After a long consultation with Marcus in New York City, it was decided that a meeting of the Temporal needed to be called. Suteko could hide and forever wander. Or the existence of the Temporal could be carefully revealed to the leaders of certain nations giving them protection and a way to live openly. One way or the other, in the internet and digital age, anonymity for the Temporal was increasingly becoming a lost cause.

  In Marcus’ apartment, Sam sat down before a world map that Suteko had spread out on a table. Marcus, with a pen in hand, wrote each name and location in a different script and varying code as Sam spoke.

  Once finished, the old man stood.


  “For the two thousand years that I have walked this earth, I never thought this day would come. Our existence as a secret may no longer be possible. In order to protect Suteko, as well as us all, we may need to trust a few outsiders.” He paused, holding up the paper filled with the twenty-six coded names and addresses. “This simple piece of paper is worth more to the Nephloc than all the riches of Solomon.”

  He carefully folded the paper and slipped it into an envelope. Sam half expected Marcus to seal the envelope with melted wax. He was slightly disappointed when Marcus instead used a small piece of tape.

  “Our primary concern is protecting our Temporal brothers and sisters. We must instruct the president about a kind of reality that is unknown to him. This is no longer simply an internal affair, but a danger that could affect all of humanity.”

  Sam began to think of the past few weeks, the past few days. The short-lived and tragic friendship of Cobbs; the pain of seeing a murderer adored by good people; the physical trauma his body had absorbed... The threat—McGregor and his bombs—had been dealt with, but Sam knew Kaileen would not give up. Sam had something she wanted.

  Suteko’s hand slipped around Sam’s right arm, filling him with peace. It wasn’t the kind of peace to make him forget his troubles; it simply shored up the strength within him and allowed him to cope.

  Sam looked at Suteko, smiled, and then turned his attention back to Marcus’ speech.

  “Gather your things. We begin tomorrow.”

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  CHAPTER ONE

  “How many of them, boy?”

  The old man’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open as if still in the process of releasing his last word. Sam couldn’t tell if it was from fear or simply the anticipation of the moment.

  Sam closed his own eyes and shut out the world around him. Patterns soon emerged within his mind’s eye that represented Nephloc—the dark creatures under the enemy’s control.

  “Three—no, four,” Sam said, opening his eyes and turning to Marcus who was not twelve inches away. “And they are closing in fast.”

  Seeing a burgeoning smile, Sam determined the wide eyes were revealing anticipation and not fear.

  Sam looked down from the rafters upon which they were hiding and watched as Suteko walked casually around a chair on the floor below. She wore her long, silky hair back in a ponytail. Her clothes were loose to enable quick and varied movements. She was dressed for battle.

  She was the bait.

  It had been Marcus’ plan, and Sam was dead set against it. He had finally found the woman he had been dreaming about all his life, and the best plan they could come up with was to have the woman of his dreams become the lure to entice the Nephloc—a waking nightmare—into a trap. But it was their only hope; the Temporal had no knowledge of the Nephloc’s plan and desperately needed intelligence. All they knew was the Nephloc would be coming and that meant opportunity.

  Brushing Sam’s fears aside, Suteko understood this was their best chance to gain information, and she willingly submitted to the plan. Kaileen—the presumed leader of the Nephloc—was on the move, always one step ahead of the Temporal. No one would be safe until she was stopped. If they could just get some hint of her location, this whole matter could be behind them; Sam and Suteko could have a life together.

  The call-out by Marcus was answered by fewer than he had hoped. Many Temporal, individualistic by nature, had not been fond of the idea. Others understood the danger and were arranging transportation. The time table varied for those planning to come. Some were willing to leave immediately. Others required weeks to settle local accounts.

  Ian Cooke and Catherine Porras were the first to arrive in Washington DC. Even before Marcus’ invite, they were intent on paying the old man a visit. While nothing concrete had happened, both Ian and Catherine had experienced a number of strange parallel dreams. Consulting Marcus in person seemed appropriate. Hearing of the threat only solidified their decision.

  But they were not without their disagreements. Ian had a past with both Suteko and Marcus, and Catherine was highly suspicious of Suteko’s intentions.

  Their dreams and visions had been filled with dark creatures. These evil beings were searching for something. After some discussion, Ian and Catherine both agreed that the object of their desire was Suteko. From this theory, the current plan was decided upon.

  In their visions, Ian and Catherine had both been shown a specific location. They were certain the attack would take place there. They had no address, but both had a vague sense of the area and felt like they could find it.

  Marcus consulted with President Brad Gardner who sent Lieutenant Scott Harrison. Harrison worked in close liaison with the Pentagon and the Secret Service as a facilitator, someone who organized meetings and had the authority to make what needed to happen happen.

  Following Ian and Catherine’s instructions, they soon discovered the location. Remembering their visions, they immediately recognized the outside of the house. When they stepped in, it was also exactly like their dreams. Only their guide, Lieutenant Harrison, was surprised to discover the house was actually a Secret Service safe house; the others nodded as if some deep puzzle had been solved.

  With its few rooms and exposed rafters, the building was more of a cabin than a house. It sat atop a small hill and a good half of a mile away from the nearest neighbor. The north side of the hill had the lone access road and provided an unobstructed panoramic view—perfect for watching for any visitors.

  The lieutenant was told only Suteko would require lodging at that location. It wasn’t that Lieutenant Harrison was untrustworthy—he seemed to be of the highest moral character—but somehow the Nephloc would learn that Suteko would be alone in this place, and they wanted to plant as many seeds as possible to lead them to that conclusion.

  They had been waiting for over a week, each night careful to make it appear as though Suteko was alone and vulnerable.

  But now, the time had finally come. Ian and Catherine’s visions had proved prophetic.

  Up in the rafters, Sam shot a glance at Ian. Marcus was next to him near the doorway, but Ian was positioned in the middle of the room over Suteko’s chair.

  Ian had seemed quite taken aback by the dreams. Sam had noticed it. The Briton had been giving Suteko more than a fair share of his attention. The subtle glances; the readiness to agree and take Suteko’s side no matter the context... While he certainly appreciated Ian’s concern and protection, Sam began to suspect Ian had more on his mind than simply preventing a nightmare.

  It wasn’t that Ian was a bad guy. The first time they met, they seemed to have hit it off. But a few days later, Ian was a totally different person. Sam didn’t put it together at first, but he suspected it had something to do with Suteko spending most of her free time with him.

  “Suteko,” said Sam in a voice just above a whisper, “thirty seconds.” He had let the thoughts of recent events run too rampant. Sam had to get control of himself within the moment—anything but total success was unacceptable.

  The old man, who was near Sam, asked, “Which direction?”

  “They are circling the building,” Sam said, drawing his finger around before pointing at the window and then to the door.

  Ian’s face hardened. His right hand squeezed a wooden beam a little too hard, sending bits of wood pulp to the floor. He was above and to the right of Suteko, about six feet from Marcus and Sam.

  “Steady.” Marcus’ face was resolute, his voice little above a whisper. “Ian, watch the window. Sam and I will focus on the door. No talking.”

  Ian and Sam nodded and concentrated their attention on their respective targets. Suteko sat down on the single wooden chair in the middle of the room. After glancing upward, she alternated her eye
s between the curtained window and the solid oak door. Sam wondered how she could be so composed.

  A screeching sound, like that of a barn owl, boomed outside, causing the window to rattle.

  Sam touched the old man’s shoulder and got his attention. He flashed out three fingers in the direction of the door and one at the window. The old man nodded, and Sam turned his attention back to the door.

  Suddenly Sam began to worry. He sensed the four creatures were just outside the door and window of this small cabin, but they were not moving.

  Ian waved his hand in Marcus’ direction and then signed a silent question with his right hand. After reading the sign language, Marcus leaned over to Sam and whispered into his ear, “He’s asking what’s going on?”

  “The Nephloc are outside the door and window, but they are just waiting for some reason.”

  “Can you read their thoughts?” asked Marcus in a voice just over the hum of a nearby air vent.

  After making sure his legs and arms were solidly on multiple beams, Sam closed his eyes and concentrated. He allowed his body to relax. Dark gray patterns immediately floated before his closed eyes.

  Faces appeared and grew in detail. He began labeling the patterns he saw. Doing so organized what he saw, preventing confusion. He saw Marcus, Ian, and Suteko. He noted Catherine’s pattern several hundred meters away. No doubt, she was watching and also listening to the echoes while waiting for the signal.

  He turned his attention to the middle area just outside the small building. There, he saw four dark patterns that ignored his attempt to bring them into greater detail. He could see nothing more than gray shapes. The enemy was emitting some kind of barrier that prevented Sam from learning more.

  It was like receiving a television channel that had been scrambled; he could see that something was there, but its content was a mystery. He had never encountered this kind of resistance and was unsure of its meaning. But he knew one thing: these were their hunters, the Nephloc that had come to harm Suteko.