Rebirth (Cross Book 1)

Home > Other > Rebirth (Cross Book 1) > Page 4
Rebirth (Cross Book 1) Page 4

by Hildred Billings


  “You were the one leaving me those dead calls? Unbelievable.” Danielle looked away. The dirty tip of the old man’s cane was a bit too close.

  “Yes, well, I admit that I was the one at fault first. Your technology leaves me flummoxed, even with my cultural specialist helping. But after I finally got the hang of it, you should have answered. Or at least considered the great effort I’ve made into contacting you these past two decades.” He glanced over his shoulder. “That’s both Earth-based and Federation decades, by the way.”

  “Sorry I don’t fuck with old guys?”

  “Yes, yes, you have made your sexuality clear since the beginning.”

  “That’s not… what I… excuse me?” Since the beginning? Always making her what clear?

  “Follow me, please. I’ll catch you two up to speed again.” The man walked forward, his dog happily following, tail wagging and tongue hanging from his mouth. “Evan!” That voice echoed between the pendulums. “They’re here! Damn dog did what you couldn’t!”

  Danielle didn’t give anyone time to respond. “Evan? You mean that guy who was stalking me tonight?”

  “Ha! Gave him a good split lip, I’ll give you that, Sulim.”

  “Why are you calling me that?”

  The man’s shoulders slumped. “Good grief of the Void,” he muttered. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Anyway! Come along, Sulim, Sonall.”

  “What? That’s not my name.” Devon caught up to both the older man and Danielle with two quick steps.

  “I’ll commit your new names to my memory later. Right now, we have more important things to discuss.”

  However, neither Devon nor Danielle budged once they decided to stop following – Danielle didn’t look like she could be moved by tears, and Devon’s mouth stayed open like a broken window.

  “Who are you?” Danielle once more demanded.

  The cane tapped against the floor. “Ramaron Marlow,” he said with an exasperated drawl. “And I have a headache.”

  He hobbled down a dimly lit hallway that emerged into a compact room resembling an office. Mahogany wood panels reflected the twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling. A large desk, pushed up against the far wall, housed many old, leather-bound books, writing instruments both analog and digital, and a cube-shaped tablet the old man wasted no time turning on with a flick of his thumb. A cold blue light flashed around the perimeter of the cube before transforming into a dull green. The symbols projected onto the otherwise bare wood wall were unrecognizable to the two Earthlings entering the room.

  “We’re going to be here a while, huh?” Devon begged for some sort of normalcy to appear, and Ramaron Marlow was not going to make it happen right now. Not even the assorted refreshments left for them on a small table in the back corner of the room were normal. Vanilla Wafers and Oreos… really? What was this? Middle school dance? Who the hell bought those?

  Evan d’Aranara stepped out, a bandage wrapped around his forehead, and a clear liquid drawn across every bruise and cut Danielle gave him during their earlier altercation. He and the blond woman of his nightmares met eyes the moment the Basset Hound scurried beneath Ramaron Marlow’s desk, swallowed into a plush bed of pink pillows.

  Danielle remained far away from both Marlow and Evan. Foolhardy to convince herself that she was still dreaming, that she hadn’t found a dog on her way home, and that she hadn’t followed it down a dark alley that led her into this parallel world where she met a strange acquaintance and a man old enough to be her grandfather… but here she was. If she were to wake up from this harrowing dream with the worst hangover in the world, then so be it. Although she hadn’t drunk any alcohol. Contrary to what she wished to believe, Troy hadn’t spiked her tea.

  Marlow sank into his chair with a resounding sigh. He leaned his cane against the desk before addressing his guests. “First, let me ask how much you two remember from your previous endeavors. That will give me an idea of where we should start.”

  Evan sat on the loveseat by the refreshments. He arranged the Wafers and Oreos into a more visually pleasing pattern before popping a cookie into his mouth. He grimaced. Not because the wafer was disgusting – on the contrary, it was his favorite American snack – but because his jaw still hurt from when Danielle put him in a thrice-damned headlock.

  Danielle kept a wary eye on him. Maybe what Devon said about the brain casting random strangers in dreams was correct. “What are you talking about?”

  “You have got be kidding me,” Marlow muttered in his native language. “You mean you don’t remember any of this? Not at all? Not even a sliver?”

  “I think I would remember visiting a pendulum mausoleum.” Danielle gestured to the swinging timekeepers on the other side of the hallway.

  “Those clocks represent the ebb and flow of time, Sulim. You mention them every time.”

  “You’re calling me that name again.”

  Marlow’s research and background checks should have made him anticipate indifference, but this was worse than usual for his female mercenary. “My findings on you two have, in fact, reported that neither of you exhibit psychic abilities, so I guess the ability to know your past selves has escaped you yet again. I suppose refreshing the story wouldn’t hurt.” Marlow glanced beneath his desk. “Charlie, if you’re not asleep now, you’re going to be in a little bit.”

  “I’m going to be asleep,” Evan said, mouth filled with cookies. “There ain’t a soul in the Federation who doesn’t know this damn story.”

  “Reminder that we are not in the Federation here, Evan.”

  “Don’t have to remind me, Boss. I’ve already smuggled my wife enough koki’o flowers from Hawaii to give the custom agents heart attacks.”

  “Get on with it,” Danielle urged the man sitting at his desk.

  He rolled his eyes. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one before,” he mused, only to meet the silence of two people staring at him with the scrutiny of police detectives in an interrogation. “Anyway, you two are mercenaries. My mercenaries. Well, you used to be. Mercenaries, that is.”

  “Oh, good, now I’m dreaming about the president,” Danielle mumbled.

  “Didn’t he give a speech like this before?” Devon asked.

  “I don’t know, it’s not like anybody in the military actually listens to him.” Nobody in Danielle’s Fags and Freaks department, anyway. They enjoyed what sanity they had left.

  “Excuse me.” Marlow cleared his throat to redirect their attention. “I know this is quite incredible, but if you could cooperate, I would be most appreciative. The fate of your planet is only, I don’t know, riding on this meeting going well.”

  “Now it’s nuclear war?” Danielle scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be sharing this with the Pentagon?”

  Marlow’s silver brow twitched under the pressure of his companions’ incompetence. “For the love of all things still alive, would you two listen for more than two seconds? Your home planet is at stake, and all you can do is convince yourselves that you’re dreaming?”

  “To be fair,” Evan interrupted from his corner, “I would do the same thing, Boss. Heavy shit, here.”

  “Listen to me.” Marlow spun around in his chair. “Millennia ago, an old colleague of mine targeted your planet for destruction. I thought it a grand idea to hire the very mercenaries who inhabited the planet, since I figured you two might want to stay alive and keep your loved ones alive too. Unfortunately, you failed, your planet was destroyed, taking your lives with it, but not before I could bless you with an extremely rare gift of rebirth. Throw in a few extra shakes of sorcery, and bam, you’re always reborn on his next target. You have since failed your home planets ninety-eight times. The least you could do this time is pretend that you care.”

  “Dude, what?”

  “I’m out.” Danielle concurred. “Pinch me. I’m getting out of this dream.”

  “Seriously, that made no sense. I’ve played low budget video games with better plots than that.”

  Marlow
’s head was on his desk. “Maybe I should give up now and wait for the hundredth time.” He lifted his head up. “Then again, I’ve had harder times trying to convince you two.”

  “I personally love the ninety-eight times bit the most,” Evan said. “I was a kid when the last one happened. That was some pretty dramatic television.”

  “Seriously, pinch me.”

  “Enough of this,” Marlow said. “You’re here, we can get started. After a good night’s sleep, you’ll be ready to discuss it, I’m sure.”

  “You gonna do the thing, Boss?” Evan held up the plate of cookies. “Last chance for free Oreos, guys. Double-stuffed. Good shit.”

  Marlow rose from his desk. Neither Devon nor Danielle were alert enough to run. While Ramaron Marlow was the last person in the universe who wanted either of them dead, he had other ways of making their multiple lives hell.

  They thought he was extending his hands to shake theirs. When he gripped their wrists, however, they realized too late how much of a sorcerer this old, tired man was.

  “Good luck, you two. You’re going to need it.”

  “What are you – fuck!” Devon yanked his arm, the old man’s grip too strong to let him get away. Or Danielle.

  It didn’t matter how much it hurt. It didn’t matter how much it burned like the fury of the sun deciding Fuck it, we’re crashing into Earth! The thousands of needles pricking the back of their wrists, imprinting an ink Marlow had developed over the centuries for interdimensional travel, was too much to damn well bear.

  “Holy shit!” Danielle’s feet attempted to flee. Charlie the dog whimpered in empathy beneath the desk. Evan put on a headset and watched something on a screen he pulled out of his pocket. Nobody was interested in intervening, least of all the ancient fossil of an asshole who was branding his mercenaries with tattoos.

  When he finally released them, Danielle and Devon stumbled back against the wall, avoiding one another while gaping in horror at the ink branding their wrists.

  “Let it heal,” Marlow muttered with a wave of his reddened hand. “And begone for tonight. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene on the morrow.”

  “Keep telling you, Boss, nobody talks like that here.”

  Evan ended up keeping all the cookies for himself. Within five more seconds, two bodies crumpled on the ground, overwhelmed by the hell they had once again been thrust into.

  ***

  Danielle’s eyes snapped open at the first indication of sunlight. She was in her bed, the black sheets caressing her bare legs while the morning sun baked her skin. She sucked in a relieved breath and pushed her hand through her hair.

  “Thank God,” she muttered. Been a while since she had such a realistic dream.

  The only thing that could disturb her now was her ringing phone on her nightstand.

  “Hello?” Her voice cracked.

  “Good morning!” Troy was too chipper for a Saturday morning. “Did you have a lovely walk home last night? You sound like shit.”

  “Out of curiosity, did I drink any alcohol last night?”

  A pause disrupted their conversation. “Not that I know of. Not sure what you got up to after I last saw you. Why? Got a hangover?”

  “No. I mean…” Danielle rubbed her face. “I don’t remember getting home last night at all. I also don’t recall changing into pajamas.” From how she smelled, she hadn’t showered, either.

  “You did seem tired. Anyway, I’m calling to see if you wanna go out tonight. There’s a party on the west…”

  “No, thanks. Might change my mind later, but I think I’m going to stay in tonight.”

  “All right. Let me know if you change your mind. Bye, Love.”

  Danielle didn’t bother to send a farewell before hanging up. She collapsed onto her bed, limbs numb and eyes heavy. Glancing at the clock told her there was nothing wrong with sleeping in until noon.

  But before she could doze off, her phone rang once more. Groaning, she rolled over and coughed into the receiver as she accused Troy of forgetting to tell her something.

  Silence. Then, “Have a good sleep, Sulim?”

  The blood stopped cold in Danielle’s veins. “I… who is this?” She snapped upright and slammed the phone against her ear. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “You know who I am. I’m not going to introduce myself again.”

  “No.” Danielle curled into a fetal position as her heart slowly learned to beat again. “No fucking way.”

  “Sorry. It wasn’t a dream, no matter how much you insisted. Thank you for passing out in my office, by the way. Evan sends his regards for not only attacking him last night, but for also making him carry you home. He took the change on your dresser as payment for his service.”

  “He what?” That was her laundry money!

  “Not sure what he took of Sonall’s. He grumbled a lot more about that.”

  “So… that’s the kid, right?”

  “Naturally.”

  Danielle lowered her phone. Out of all the dreams she ever had, last night’s was one she could’ve lived with never coming true. She raised her hand to her forehead. Her long sleeve slid down and revealed the small butterfly tattoo on her wrist.

  Once, during her Basic Training days, she was kicked in the chest during a sparring match with another woman. Her body had flown to the ground as the weight of a thousand jets crashed into her ribcage, rendering her useless and leaving a bruise that would last for more than a month. The same feeling returned as Danielle gasped for air and grabbed her sheets for something to hold. Her lungs were dragged through a filter of rocks and garbage. What was breathing? What the fuck was air?

  “Is this for real?”

  “I can assure you that I am a serious man at heart, Sulim. That tattoo I gave you last night shows your relation to me. Anyone in the know who sees that will afford you privileges that you would not be able to receive even as a basic citizen of the Federation. They know you. I know you. Through it I can keep track of where you are, and through it you can access our base of operations. Furthermore, I…”

  Danielle mashed the power button on her phone as hard as she could without breaking it. Leaving her phone behind, she fled into her living room, the quiet of the stark room interrupted as the mounted wall phone in the kitchen rang. Danielle answered. Maybe someone would fess up to the prank.

  “…I would like to remind you that we are working on a strict deadline here…”

  “Holy shit!” Danielle pressed the clicker and left the phone hanging from its cord. Her heart pumped pure adrenaline as the rest of her body prepared for takeoff into her apartment building’s hallway.

  “Don’t be so rude.”

  He was in the goddamned stereo in the living room!

  “I know you’re confused and scared, Sulim, but nobody’s going to harm you right now.”

  “Right now?”

  Gritted teeth smashed through her speakers. “I make no promises about tomorrow.”

  Danielle unleashed a high-pitched squeal of horror at the world’s sudden loss of logic.

  “I expected such a response.”

  Running into the hallway would trigger the doorbells. The elevator would instigate the intercom. Living in such a large and populated city would not allow Danielle any peace until she heard what this man had to say… no matter how he chose to reach out to her.

  She sank into her couch with the weight of a feather. Marlow gave her a few moments’ worth of reprieve to let her catch her breath again.

  “Is that better? I won’t trouble you for much longer, I promise. I can’t. I have a meeting on Terra III to… never mind, you don’t remember where that is. Anyway, I’ll stop by Earth later to discuss things in your own familiar environment. Perhaps that will be better for you? Say, tonight? I’ll have Evan send you the address. Dress up. It’s a fancy place. Have a good day.”

  The voice faded until only honking horns and chirping birds outside her window remained. “What the hell just happened?” Her mind t
urned into mush and her breath stole away from her body once more. She couldn’t decide if returning to bed was a good idea or not – that asshole might follow her into her dreams once more.

  FOUR

  Devon’s next encounter with Marlow was not as practical. He crashed into the bathroom sink when his electric razor spoke with the voice of a disheveled old man. Screaming commenced, along with the desperate attempts to escape the bathroom. Even so, Marlow conveyed his intent to meet with both him and “Sulim” later that evening. Devon had no choice. He had to go, for his sanity.

  “What is your problem?” Alicia asked him later that afternoon. Devon sat on the far end of the couch, staring at the news program. “You’ve been acting like your grandmother died.”

  “I’m a little confused right now.”

  Alicia abandoned the kitchen counter to join her boyfriend on the couch. “Is this about you graduating? You should have a job lined up by now. Look at these,” she thrust papers into his face, “I’ve been trying to find us a place to live since the university’s going to kick us out within the next couple of months. They don’t like it when there are non-students living here… and since you didn’t apply to any of the grad schools, we’re screwed.”

  Devon fingered through the tops of the pages, but the words and pictures passed through his eyes as his mind wandered between what Alicia said and his impending meeting that night. How could he worry about apartments when there was some deranged old man convincing him that the world was going to end soon? He hid his face in his hands and hoped that Alicia would leave him alone.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “I can’t wait to get out of this dump. It’s small, cramped, and we get to hear every time the neighbors have sex. Let’s shoot for something with a little more padding between the walls.”

  Now was not the time to think about sex, nor was it the time to care about any sort of pleasure when there may not be a future to enjoy it. Devon’s knack for overthinking led him down a causality avenue filled with nothing but what ifs. He curled up on his end of the couch. Alicia sighed at her boyfriend’s unwillingness to apartment hunt.

 

‹ Prev