Complication

by R.A. Graves

Michael was up early. He stood at the window, ready to go: jacket, tie, and dress shoes, which, in his mind, were still slightly damp. The curtains were pulled fully open. He could see for miles. Airships dotted the sky and perched on rooftops all throughout the city. He watched them all move about for a while, one would take off and another would set down in its place. It was amazing that they could keep the jumble mess operating.

  The buildings were a different story. They were laid out in a well organized grid pattern; all roughly the same in height. Only one building loomed over the rest: The Great Tower. Michael could see it as a black pillar in the far distance. It reached so high he was unsure if he was seeing the top or if it simply reached farther than his eyes. It was an astounding sight - the pride of all the people of the Great City and its surrounding territories.

  Every thirteen stories, there was another three-story rock facade with the Great Emblem carved into it: a man standing, legs slightly apart, his arms out, palms turned up. It was basic knowledge that the man stood on something and held items in his open hands. Michael just couldn't remember what those things were. He could not see the detail from the hotel room window, and truth was he wasn't sure why he cared. Debora was lucky. Her room on the other side of the hall must have looked out over the Great River that meandered its way into the city from the mountains. She also had the sunrise.

  Michael took the time to go through some files. The first thing he looked over was the paper Stanley Post gave him. He couldn't glean anything new from it and set it aside. He opened the folder of clippings they pulled from the library and found nothing new or insightful there, either. The phone book in the night stand was more useful; he flipped through it and made a long list of antique dealers.

  Debora knocked and Michael checked his watch - 7:32. For the first time, Debora was late - two minutes late. He opened the door.

  “These rooms have no coffee makers,” she said with a frump. “We should find some coffee before anything else.”

  “Is that what you are wearing?”

  She was not in her typical office clothes. She wore a light buttonless blouse without a blazer, a pair of jeans and sneakers.

  “This is it,” Debora said. “We might be doing a lot of running around. I want to be comfortable today. Let’s go find that coffee.” She turned and walked down the hall while Michael stepped back into the room to look in the wall mirror. He stripped the jacket off and threw it on the bed before following her out.

  They found coffee at a cafe down the street. Their waiter wore a hoop ring that hung loosely from his septum. A dark tattoo crept up his neck. The coffee was very large, very good, and very hot. Debora sipped at it carefully, holding it with two hands beneath her chin.

  “There are a few people,” Michael said, “that could possibly offer us a lead on the timepiece.” Debora softly moaned, which made Michael look up at her. Her eyes were shut, a slight smile curved her lips at the corners. She seemed in no hurry to join the rest of the world. Michael took a moment to enjoy the look of peace and contentment on her face. Her eyes came open to find that she was not in her moment alone.

  “Sorry. The coffee is so good.”

  Michael lifted his own cup, took a sip and set it back down, without the slightest hint that he enjoyed it. Coffee was strictly for functionality purposes to him.

  “Which way to the tower from here?” Debora asked. Michael pointed over his shoulder in the direction he knew the tower to be.

  “They are spaced around the city,” he continued.

  “What are?”

  “The people we will visit about the watch. It's a big city, so it's going to be a long day.” He reached across the table and pulled the bottom of Debora’s cup from her face. “Are you alright? Are you with me?”

  “Yes, I'm completely up to it.” Debora said, raising her cup back to her lips. She pursed her lips and blew some steam away.

  They had a few more minutes before the trolley came by. Having finished off the final gulps of her coffee, Debora slipped back inside to order another. She returned and set her change on the table.

  The coins were stamped with the same image that was on the tower. Michael picked one up and studied it. One foot stood on solid ground, the other on water. Wrapping up the figure’s thighs and torso was a gown of wind and where the heart should be burned a single red flame. One outstretched hand held a star, the other an hour glass. Topping off the figure was a crown made of the double helix DNA strand of Mankind. All around the edge of the coin was the city's motto, A Name for Ourselves. Michael put the coin back and finished off his coffee before the trolley arrived. Debora carried hers, still steaming, and hopped onto the street car just as it started rolling away.

  They visited nine antique stores, six pawn shops, and had lunch at a vendor’s cart parked along the street. The last shop they visited was located in the south side of the city. It was a basement location. Its door was made of thick wooden planks covered with narrowly spaced wrought iron bars. It was tucked beneath the sidewalk at the end of a darkened stairwell. Michael and Debora walked down the steps and tugged on the handle.

  No sign identified the place. Debora stepped back for a wider view. “This must be it. What is it called?” she asked. Michael read from the list.

  “Old Charm Pawn,” he turned his hand and checked the time. “And they definitely should be open.” He reached for the door handle to try again. Just as he did, there was a loud pop. The door came free of its frame and cracked open. An old man's head poked out. He had more fluffy white hair on his upper lip than on his head. He looked nearly blind as he squinted at them. His gaze was aimed downward, as if he was looking at little children.

  “I thought I heard a knock,” he said.

  “Are you open, sir?”

  The old man pulled the door the rest of the way open, allowing them in. When he did, they saw that he was sitting on a tall motorized stool. It swiveled around and rolled slowly away from them to its place behind the counter. Once in position, it swiveled again to face the old man toward the room and backed up to the wall.

  “Sir,” Michael started, “we are looking for-”

  “Shut the door,” the old man coughed at them. Debora pushed the door shut, wedging it back into the frame.

  “We are looking for a particular item,” Michael tried again. He set his briefcase on the counter, took out some papers and spread them out. The old man lurched forward, his entire stool coming along with him, until it tapped gently against the counter. “It's a specific watch. There is none other like it. Has it come through here?” The old man nodded while Michael spoke, not even looking at the papers, but past the counter to the floor. The chair rolled back a foot, pivoted and came around the counter. They followed it through a maze of display cases and cluttered folding tables. The stool stopped in front of a tall stack of dusty books.

  “No watch,” the old man said, “but you'll find some information on it here.” He continued rolling down the aisle to circle back around. Michael picked up one of the books and brushed off the spine. He tossed it back and repeated the process until he found one that read, Most Rare and Sought-After Timepieces. It opened with a crackle and stretched like a waking animal.

  “Fifty.”

  The old man had rolled to the end of their aisle. “Fifty dollars,” he said again.

  Michael smiled nervously. “I'm only looking.”

  “Fifty dollars for the book or fifty dollars a word, this isn't the public library.”

  Michael reluctantly paid the man, even though the book probably wouldn't tell him anything that he didn't already know. Debora made sure to pull the door shut behind them as they left.

  The old man rolled back to his position at the wall, parked and sat silently. The stout and heavy Glen Clouth came out from a corner of the store where he had been hiding. He approached the front desk and spread out a watch. “As I was saying, I need the back removed. Inside you will find a small piece of leather. Take it out for me and re
place the backing. And please be careful; this is such a beautiful piece.”

  “Five thousand dollars,” the old man said. “I know what you’ve got here, and there must be a lot of people looking for it.” He leaned forward to scoop up the watch, but Glen’s hand came down on it first. “The way I see it,” the old man said, “I’m giving you quite a bargain. It’s a limited offer and it just went up to seventy-five hundred.”

  Glen took his hand away and the old man raised Mayor Drasscol’s watch close to his face. “Come to think of it,” he said, “this might be trickier than I thought. Seventy-five is still a little low.” He looked at Glen with a sly grin and shrugged. “I need to make a living, don't I?” He slapped at the electric stool. “This thing doesn’t run on love, you know.”

  “I’ll give you no more than ten thousand,” Glen said, “And I want it in the morning.”

  Six