The Horrors of the Futuregraph part III

Anne headed straight back to her desk and opened her drawer. Six vials sat glowing a dull blue. She reached in and dumped the vials in to her purse. She was already feeling a little stiff. She reached in to her pocket. She needed to find out what Kitsune knew.

“Kitsune, does this key look familiar? I found it home and it seemed important. I think it belongs to the Prism Bank vault, but I wasn’t sure. Any ideas?” Her assistant took the small key from her outstretched hand. She turned it over, looking for any kind of identification numbers.

Anne activated her Polygraph software. She had to be certain that Kitsune was not lying.

“I believe it may belong to your security vault at the Prism, yes. We opened it when I came on board; the one downtown. This isn’t a key to a specific box, just the one you need to enter the vault itself. Let me double check.” She typed in to her datapad. Anne kept a close watch on her own retinal screen. Kitsune was telling the truth – or believed she was.

“Here, I had a memo here. The Prism bank, downtown branch. The key was mailed to you… approximately a year ago. It’s been a while since you’ve been down there. The last deposit you made personally was a folder of research notes.” She pocketed her datapad. Anne nodded. She knew what the key belonged to, but she had to make sure that Kitsune did, as well. The notes she received from her.. secret admirer.. had implied as much.

She tried to keep the words out of her head. She concentrated on the task at hand.

“Thank you, Kitsune. My pod is still running, I’ll be back in a day or two. My receiver will be on if anything catches on fire.” She swept from the room and took the small key from her assistant’s hand. She exited her office and took her personal elevator down to the parking garage.

In an empty office, a tear slid down Kitsune’s cheek. She whispered in to her concealed data-receiver.

“Miss Sidane is on her way now.”

A man’s voice responded in her ear.

“Your cooperation will not be forgotten, Kitsune. We will make sure you are well compensated.”

Kitsune’s delicate hands turned to fists at her side.

“Let me hear him!” She started to tremble. A rustling sound came through the receiver as the man moved, somewhere.

“…Mommy?” A child’s voice came on the line. Kitsune fell to her knees in Anne’s office.

#

Anne walked down the hallway of the hive-city’s most secured bank. The Prism rested in the heart of downtown and was named for its New Age design. The outside walls were made completely of blood red glass and angled to soak up the automated sun’s light for solar energy. It held the largest accounts in the nation and Anne Sidane had once been a regular customer. She had kept her distance after her last deposit.

She had known the small key belonged to the company’s vault, what she didn’t know is how much Kitsune knew. The assurance that her assistant had known the exact details of the key made her yet another liability for Anne. A liability that she would have to eliminate. Whomever had sent the key and notes to Anne knew things that Anne herself had tried very hard to bury. And Anne had always been good at burying things so deep that no one could ever find the truth. Someone had found it and she had no choice but to pursue the rabbit down the hole and silence it. She would play along until she had the advantage again.

“…the Prism has missed you, Anne. How long has it been?” The owner of the downtown Prism branch asked as he led her personally to the Futuregraph © vault. Anne looked up from her thoughts and smiled politely at John Lavender. They’ve missed my money, she mused, keeping a pleasant smile. She didn’t mind the pleasantries; it was most of her job – glossing over the fine details to find solutions to problems. She knew whatever she found, or didn’t find, in the vault would cause her concern. She might not have another conversation for a while.

“Since my last personal visit? We’ve been so busy at the office, I’ve been sending my accountant for the last twelve months or so.” They followed a long hallway that led to the center of the Prism. At every ten-foot interval were computer monitored check points. Mr. Lavender had to pause and provide his Identity badge and wait before the intimidating doors would slide open. They had gone through ten so far; Anne knew her vault was at the final gate, number twelve.

To call the Futuregraph © vault at the “Prism” anything less than “an entire room,” would be a gross understatement. It was the largest room, in the very center of the bank. As Anne preferred it, it was also the most secluded and secure. The key she carried was only one of nearly a dozen safety measures put in place by the Prism to protect their clients. The key acted only as the first of many validation steps to enter the actual vault. It had been a new measure that had been in place since the I.D.W. so long ago.

Anne’s vault required the bank owner’s presence to even open the door. When she had first opened the account so many years ago, John Lavender had just bought the Prism from his competition. Anne’s account had been the largest client the bank had ever accommodated and she single handedly funded the expansion of the Prism to the massive establishment it was today. John owed his entire success – or failure – to Anne Sidane. Anne preferred it that way.

John waved his badge in front of gate number twelve and waited patiently. The secured double doors slid open with a heavy sigh of decompressing air and they walked through together. As a courtesy, he stepped aside and let Anne use her small bank key to start the last set of locks. A small panel was embedded in to the wall of the room. She inserted the small key and turned it. The final doors slid open.

The company vault for Futuregraph was considered Anne’s personal vault. No other safety deposit vault could be accessed without the direct assistance and supervision of a bank manager – expect, of course, Anne’s. Power had it’s privileges, she had found out over the years. When one single withdrawal could destroy a business, the bank tended to be a little more understanding. John made sure Anne was safely through the final vault door before he started to lock the door behind her.

“Contact me when you’re ready to leave. You’ll have to activate your key from the inside before the doors will open.” Anne waved him away and walked in to the vault. All four walls were lined with safety deposit boxes of all shapes and sizes. She passed through the line and went straight to a single box in the bottom western wall. She knew the exact number she was looking for. It has been hidden among the other hundred security boxes marked for employees or special projects. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she approached it. She knew her key would work.

Anne knew what was supposed to be in the safety deposit box and knew that it would be missing when she opened it. It was a trail she had to follow to the end. She half expected an explosion to be rigged when she turned the key. The box was deep and she was forced to reach her slender hand in to grope around for any remaining files.

When she withdrew her hand she knew the box was empty save for the single piece of paper that has been folded in half. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she opened it. Red ink scrawled across the paper like blood splatter. After reading the entire note, she realized this was a rabbit hole she would never escape alive. She made up her mind to go down fighting, at the very least.

The name on the outside of the security box was _____ Sidane; her niece. Anne pocketed the folded piece of paper and kept the words in mind. She had a lot of work to do in the twenty four hours before she knew she would die.

#

Twenty three hours and fifty minutes later, Anne Sidane returned to her penthouse. She went to her kitchen and retrieved her favorite wine glass and filled it to the brim. She sunk down in to her comfortable chair and sighed. She wasn’t putting up much of a fight, but she knew the majority of her results would be seen after the fight was over. That’s all that counted, that she would win in the end.

Her muscles began to spasm slightly. She took a long drink of her wine and leaned over to her purse. She looked for the faint blue glow and removed one of her few remaining serums. As she injected it in to her forearm, she heard her front door open. She discarded the syringe in her purse and turned to look at her murderer.

A hired killer stood in her doorway; it was no one Anne recognized. The man was tall and slender. If Anne had been younger, she’d have considered him attractive. He wore a simple gray suit with pale latex gloves. In his hand he held a falsified door key which had allowed him to simply enter her home without her Identification badge. The technology was very expensive and very illegal. Someone wanted Anne dead and they had the money to find her. That at least narrowed down her suspects.

The man leaned in the doorway and watched Anne from the shadows of her penthouse. As he stepped forward, she watched his every move. He had a slow, deliberate walk. He knew she wasn’t going to run. It was nothing personal, just business.

“How are you feeling?” His voice had an accent she couldn’t identify. As she tried to consider it, her thoughts became sluggish. Even as he asked, she realized something was wrong. She could no longer move from her chair. The man must have noticed as his face broke in to a smile.

“You’ve taken your serum, then. It won’t be much longer now.” He moved closer and reached in to his suit pants pocket. He removed a portable datapad and turned it around to face her. He had an image loaded on the screen. Anne saw herself, body decomposed and gray, laying slack in her comfortable chair.

“How did you—-the Futuregraph—-it’s unstable, if you kill me you’ll—-“ The man put his fingers to his lips and gave her a “hush” sign.

“The Futuregraph is not unstable, Anne. It is exactly as you designed it, with your… corrupt… technology. Did you think we would never find the truth? No matter, you will be the first to experience the ‘unstable’ nature of your own creation.” As he spoke, Anne recognized his accent. It was spoken with a Japanese accent. Perfect English, but he annunciated just enough that she recognized it. She had spent enough time speaking with Kitsune to recognize his fluctuations.

“You can’t… do this. Kill me if you must, but you cannot… stop… the Futuregraph…” Her breathing was getting harder and harder. She was struggling to draw air in to her lungs.

“You.. have no idea what you’ve done. It isn’t safe.. you’ll need..” She coughed, gasping for breath. “The Formula.” She coughed, more violent this time, and sent blood spattering in to the air.

“Oh, Miss Anne. You underestimate us. Of course we know how to fix the Futuregraph. No, we want to expose it for what it really is. We want to show the world the truth behind your creation. How do you determine the future of our families? What will the world think when they discover the truth?” He was walking closer to her, watching as her body slowed to a halt. She couldn’t move her head any longer to talk. Now, she could only listen.

“How ever did you discover it, Miss Sidane? Oh, we know. Our families know. We know the horror you found that made you millions… and the secrets you had to bury to keep it all. Soon, it will all be over. Not even your technology-induced immortality can save you now.”

The serum had been a poison. She realized it too late. Blood dripped down her mouth as she lay gaping at the man who stood before her. Anne’s last thoughts, the ones that weren’t full of panic, turned to her niece. _____ was her only hope in stopping the terrible creation she had unleashed upon the world.

#

“Central, we’ve got incoming.” The Detective’s voice was hushed. He was speaking to a wireless transceiver that ____ had seen him do before. He was trying to be quiet but his voice seemed very loud in the empty apartment. She was not looking forward to running for her life. She may have looked slim, but the truth was, she drank a lot of caffeine and got damn lucky with her metabolism. Also, the stitches.

“My scanner shows three men headed our way. We’re going to need back up.” He continued to stay pressed against the wall as he spoke and was straining to hear any change in noises outside. He turned to look at her.

“Lock your front door, it may buy us some time.” She nodded and walked quickly to the front door. She input her personal code gave a sigh of relief as she heard the multiple locks slam in to place.

“They’re still three floors down, taking the stairs. Yes, we can run. I’ve got limited—-O.K., understood.” Javid was speaking to his commanding officer, from ____’s past experiences. The Detective appeared flustered.

“We’ve got back up on their way. One catch – he’ll meet us on the roof.” She nodded and gripped her bag a little tighter.

“You’re backup is just one man?”

“Technically, he’s your backup. I’ve got a gun, remember?”

She did remember and could hardly keep from staring at it. She’d never seen a gun in real life. Well, nothing other than a costume gun at a science fiction convention, anyways. She felt itchy every time she looked at it.

“Don’t worry, he’s one hell of a shot. Come on, we need to get to the roof. Is there an elevator close by?”

“Yeah, just outside and down the hall.” Javid moved towards the door but stopped suddenly. His pause told her he was seeing something on his retinal screen. He turned towards her and shook his head.

“No good, they’re outside…” He gripped his gun a little tighter.

“The windows.” She looked towards the large windows that overlooked the hive-city. Her rent was high for the view, not the quality of the building. She didn’t wait for him to respond. This should work. She looked around frantically.

“On the right. The control panel.” Javid followed her train of thought.

A loud crash sounded outside. The men were at her front door.

“The maintenance man – he opened these windows once with his Identity badge,” she was clawing at the control panel as she spoke. Javid was facing the door now, gun leveled at the door.

“Right, but we don’t have the code, _____.” He spoke over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the door. Another loud crash came from outside. The door wouldn’t hold much longer.

“I don’t exist, remember?” The detective didn’t reply. She pulled the door from the maintenance panel beneath the window. Four boxes blinked, prompting her to enter a code that would normally be entered automatically with a proper Identification badge. The numbers blinked, expectantly. She heard the men outside starting to curse and slam harder against the door.

Her surroundings seemed to grind to a halt. The sound of men outside disappeared. She could no longer hear Javid’s frantic yelling. The numbers had stopped blinking. Her apartment transformed in front of her; she was still there but everything was subdued and monotone. She couldn’t over but was now viewing the windows from high above where she once stood. She watched the maintenance man approach the same panel and remove it. She could see herself, wrapped in a blanket, as she had been in December of 2047. She was seeing herself! She remembered when the man had come in to check on her drafty windows. It had been so cold.

The maintenance man swiped his Identity badge. No numbers showed on the panel, just four stars that indicated the code had been entered correctly. The windows slide open and the man climbed out on to her apartment balcony. Without being able to see the numbers, _____ somehow knew what the code was.

A gunshot brought her crashing back to reality. Javid had fired his gun at the door that was now in the process of being pried open by a crowbar.

_____ used the keypad to type in a manual password. She hadn’t seen it in her odd flashback, she just knew. “1504” was the number that came to mind when she looked at the panel. The panel flashed green once and the windows slid open. A message displayed across the screen: Welcome, UNKNOWN.

“How in the—“ He didn’t finish his question before he picked up his bag and chased after her. Once they had both climbed through the window on the balcony, the front door of her apartment was violently blown off its hinges.

_____ ran to the outdoor panel and typed in the first number that came to mind. The windows slammed shut just as the three men burst through her shattered front door. Whatever password she had entered also forced a second layer of glass to reinforce the windows. She peered in through the thick glass and a chill went down her spine. She recognized the three men from the attack on the street.

“I hope that new barrier is bullet proof.” Javid was moving down the balcony holding his gun in one hand and his bag in the other. _____ slid her bag strap over her right shoulder and followed.

“Let’s not wait to find out.” The men were already slamming on the inside of the glass.

Javid wasted no time in regaining control. _____ was grateful. She was already out of breath and now standing on a balcony that was literally hundreds of floors above the ground. Now was not the time to get dizzy. The atmosphere control system kept the “sky” at a realistic temperature. She was glad she had worn her hoodie.

Outside the window was a balcony that wasn’t meant for the tenants. The space was limited but because the windows were also so close, luckily, so were the balconies. She noticed with more than a little fear that between each balcony was a metal ladder that connected each one for maintenance work. The balconies were tiered; beneath every ladder was a balcony, so even if someone slipped off, they would land safely on the cement balcony below.

____ tried not to shudder every time she heard another loud impact against the glass. She heard another loud sound and the hair on the back of her neck rose. It had been another gun shot.

“I’d say that second layer was a security one; definitely bullet proof so far.” Javid spoke over his own shoulder as he moved to the edge of the balcony and examined the ladder that was on the other side of the barrier wall. He looked over the edge.

“Ok, either we outrun these bastards or we get thrown over the edge. Don’t slip and beat them to it.” He lifted his bag and dropped it over the edge, then threw a leg over the side and lowered himself down. A moment later, she heard the impact of his feet on the balcony below.

“We’re only a few balconies away from the roof, but we need to move quickly.” ____ followed the Detective’s lead and lowered her bag down, then started to lift her leg over the side of the balcony. Glass shattered behind her. Her head snapped around at the noise and she watched in horror as her metal filing cabinet flew out the window and plummeted towards the hive-city below. Oh god, the people below…

“_____, move, now!” Javid’s voice had a dangerous edge to it. The fear in his voice forced her legs to move and she lowered herself over the edge and dropped down. She regretted the impact immediately as she felt her bandages shift painfully. Another loud sound and a bullet lodged in to the cement where she had just been standing.

They picked up their respective bags and moved to the next balcony. A small ladder with rusted handles led to the upper balcony. Javid pushed her around in front of him and drew his gun again.

“Up this ladder, down the side, and there should be another small ladder to get to the roof. Central is sending a vehicle that will land on the roof any minute now. Go ahead, I’ll cover you.” Javid didn’t wait for a response and lifted his gun to fire back towards where the men were rushing over the edge.

Sharp pain shot across her shoulder as she picked up her bag again. She clenched her teeth and moved slowly towards the ladder. She threw the bag straps on her shoulders and pulled herself up. Each pull caused fire to spread across her chest but she continued to push herself. She just had to get to the roof. Her stomach started to feel damp. She hoped it was just sweat.

Gun fire continued behind her. It urged her to move faster. She could see the roof top and could hear the incoming roar of whatever vehicle Javid’s company had sent over. She couldn’t see anything yet but whatever it was, it sounded big. One more small ladder to climb up, one balcony to cross, and there should be a ladder on the side that led up to the roof. She didn’t see any ladder and hoped it was just out of sight.

Her bag felt heavier as she climbed the last ladder and slid over the side of the balcony. All of the windows they had passed so far had been closed. She left a trail of damp blood on the cement as she slid over the side. The roof seemed so far away.

She was facing an empty wall that pressed against the last balcony but there was no ladder to the roof. It was a dead end. She could crane her neck and see the top of the wall and watched as a hovering vehicle suddenly appeared. Some kind of… cloaking device? Even through the pain in her chest, she was able to smile. Her nerdy side was showing. She set her bag down to catch her breath and pulled her hand away. Blood coated her skin. She began to feel short of breath.

The vehicle seemed to have landed and disappeared again. It wasn’t a helicopter but some other kind of vehicle. Whatever was keeping it airborne was loud. She called for Javid but her voice was drowned out by the roar of the vehicle above her.

#

Javid tumbled over the last balcony and was barely able to roll as he impacted on the cement. The air was nearly knocked from his lungs. He stood up fast, knowing the man would be right behind him. He looked up and towards the roof. He had sent _____ racing ahead but now he didn’t see her or the ladder he thought would be at the end of the balconies.

He saw blood smeared over the edge of the last balcony. He couldn’t stop now; he had slowed down their assailants but knew they’d soon recover. Unlike theirs, Javid’s bullets were not lethal. Just high-pressurized tranquilizer rounds that loaded in to his electronic gun. The F.E.U. was a privately owned and operated security unit, after all. They had no official jurisdiction anywhere. As such, he kept his gun now for self defense and as he saw it, this definitely qualified.

One of the men appeared over the side of the balcony and was looking over. In the brief moment, the Detective saw the man’s face was wet with blood. Good, he thought, at least I kicked the son of a bitch in the face… He had nearly been captured before when the man had grabbed his leg. Being smaller and quick, he’d been able to twist out of the way and lashed out. He knew he had made contact when the man cursed and released him, but it was satisfying to see the end results.

The same large man was now glaring down at the Detective with a split lip that had bled down the side of his mouth. He had murder in his eyes and drew his gun to aim at Javid. The Detective stood up, holding his bag in his spare hand and raising his own gun in response. He stepped back quickly. He had to find an escape, and fast. He knew his gun was out of charges – but the other man didn’t. He hoped his bluff would work. He looked around frantically; the balcony was empty. He saw _____’s blood on the cement and she had somehow managed to escape.

Before fear could set in, a heavy rope ladder fell in front of him and clanged against the side of the building.

A man grinned over the side of the building at him, holding Javid’s escape in two gloved hands.

“Stephon!” Javid’s voice was drowned out by the hovercraft.

“Hurry up!” Stephon yelled down. He dropped the ladder and drew two guns from his hip holsters. The calvary had arrived. Javid gripped his bag and started climbing the ladder. He heard the men crash down over the balcony just behind him.

“Don’t let them escape!” The sound of gunfire was audible over the roar of the hovercraft engines. The gunshots had come from Stephon and they slammed in to their designated target. The first man spun violently and tumbled over the edge of the balcony. Javid climbed faster, not wanting to get between the men.

Stephon fired two more shots at the men below. If they were slowed after watching their companion fall over the edge, Javid didn’t notice. If the men survived the fire fight, they’d have to find another way to the roof. The Detective clamored over the edge of the roof and Stephon helped him pull up the slack. It had been secured to a service building using a gravity-hook. Stephon deactivated the two beacons that held the ladder in place and pried them off the wall. They didn’t want to leave behind any technological evidence.

The hovercraft disengaged it’s personal cloaking system so that Stephon and Javid could locate it on the roof. They ran towards it, the wind whipping their hair and clothes like a tornado. The hovercraft was black metal that looked freshly washed. A large door slid open to allow both men to run inside and close the door behind them. Once the door was closed, the noise from the engine was completely drowned out. It was eerily silent inside.

Inside the hovercraft the room was sealed except for two large seats along either wall and the door to the cockpit. It was designed for secure transport of F.E.U officers to and from crime scenes and was called in certain cases. In this case, it had been a much needed rescue mission.

_____ was already inside and buckled to a large seat. Her head was slouched against her chest and her hood was pulled up. Javid noticed she was clutching her chest and her eyes were barely open. She had tried to hide it with her hood. He remembered the blood from the balcony. Her hoodie was black and was hiding the blood that soaked the material. She slumped forward against her belt restraints.

“Kami, get us to Central’s Medical bay immediately!” Javid yelled through the cabin. The cockpit door opened and a woman turned around to nod her acknowledgement. Javid set his bag down and moved quickly to ____’s side to inspect her injuries. He knew he had pushed her too hard. He put his hand on her forehead. She didn’t have a fever but her forehead was damp with sweat.

Stephon holstered his guns and knelt down beside her as well. Javid moved _____’s hand away slowly from her chest. As her hand peeled away, it was covered in blood. Her eyes were barely open and unfocused. She had lost too much blood. Javid lifted her tank-top to expose her bandages. They were also soaked with blood and sweat, but even as Javid watched, the blood began to dry in front of him.

“Central said this may happen.” Stephon’s voice sounded curious as he pointed towards her bandages.

“That she’d overexert herself running from hired thugs and rip open her stitches..?” Javid stared at the blood, watching as it dried to her skin and stopped running down her stomach.

“No, look at her. She’s already healing from the blood loss. Central thought she may have been bio-chemically treated for immortality and age suppression.”

Javid listened as he dropped her shirt and checked her pulse.

“And no one decided to tell the guy who was looking after her? ‘Hey, don’t worry, she’ll regenerate?’” Her pulse was normal.

“Well, no one expected her to actually have to use the technology. Whatever they cooked up in her, man… it’s a mess. Thanks for keeping her in one piece, by the way.” Stephon smiled.

“You’re the bodyguard, not me. I don’t even own a real gun. Besides, you should have gotten here sooner and she wouldn’t have had to run for her life.”

The two men could – and had in the past – trade witty quips all day. Javid stopped short. He checked her bandages again and confirmed that the bleeding had stopped. It even appeared that the blood on the bandages had dried out and was flaking off already. Whatever treatments she had been submitted to, it was reversing the effects of her ripped stitches. She was still sweating but her shivering had stopped. Javid walked to his bag and pulled out his jacket and draped it over _____.

The hovercraft shifted suddenly to the right and both men were forced to grab safety rails to steady themselves. Javid took a seat next to _____ and buckled himself in. Stephon continued to stand, holding on to an overhead bar for support.

“Sorry, we’re descending to Central now.” Kami’s voice called through the cockpit. Javid looked at Stephon. The man shrugged.

“We didn’t have time to argue with you – we knew she wouldn’t need medical attention so we just went straight to Central.” The vehicle shifted again as Kami began to land.

“…Did everyone know except for me?” He asked, staring down at _____ who now appeared to be sleeping.

“Yeah, pretty much.” They spent the remainder of the landing in silence. When the hovercraft landed and the engines shut down, Stephon lifted _____s sleeping form and Javid trailed behind, carrying their bags. They exited the hovercraft and walked towards the helipad entrance at the Future Events Unit central headquarters.

#

After being unconscious for nearly four months, sleeping for a day seemed like a short nap. When _____ awoke it was not to a cold hospital bed but an unknown and very warm bed. She climbed out from her under the covers and was greeted by early morning simulated sunlight and the smell of cooking bacon. It seemed that waking up in unfamiliar places was beginning to become a bad habit of hers.

She looked around the room. It was a bedroom, very organized with no pictures or any personal Futuregraphs © on the wall. Bookshelves lined one wall with a personal desk and chair against the other. Even the papers on the desk were neatly stacked. The bedroom door was open. She slid off the bed and found herself wearing sensible, but silky, women’s pajamas. She didn’t recognize the pajamas but at this point, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had forgotten about them, too. The room was warm enough that even her bare feet on the floor didn’t cause her to search out more clothes.

Javid appeared around the corner of the doorframe. He was bare-chested with loose fitting jeans that were held up by an unbuckled belt. He seemed surprised that she was awake. He took a step backwards and fumbled with his belt.

“Good morning—I didn’t expect you’d be awake so soon. Hungry?” She was. Her stomach growled at the very mention of food.

“Is it safe for me to eat real food? I don’t think I’ve eaten anything since I left the hospital yesterday morning. I mean, I did just come out of surgery, I guess. It was just yesterday, right?”

“Right. And yes, you’re safe to eat real food. You did just come out of surgery, and you were warned not to over extend yourself. You ended up running your ass off yesterday, in fact. You’re fine. Better than fine. Whatever weird chip you were implanted with, it saved your life yesterday.”

Around Javid’s neck hung a delicate metal chain with a ring. It appeared to be a woman’s engagement ring. He noticed her line of sight and moved to tuck the necklace in to his shirt – which he wasn’t wearing. His hand moved against a ghost and he held the ring in his fist. _____ decided to change the subject.

“Do you always keep women’s pajamas on hand?” She raised an eyebrow at him. He gave a small smile and let his hand drop to the side, forgetting the ring.

“Oh, right. I had them here already, they belonged to a friend. You should come and eat. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

#

_____ thought about asking Javid but changed the subject.

“Come grab a plate—“ He led her down a dim hallway that was also devoid of any personal photos or decorations. She saw a few light outlines of dust where frames may once have taken up space. The hallway let out in to a kitchen with a small window. A wooden table was covered in breakfast. It smelled amazing.

“Somehow I thought Central’s ‘home office’ would be more of an office.” She sat down and took a tentative drink of fresh orange juice. The Detective laughed.

“Well, we don’t exactly have a safe line of work, as you witnessed. This is my apartment, on Central’s base.”

She took a bite of waffle with syrup. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten a home-cooked breakfast and not some form of fast food or instant drink.

“Did you make all this?” She felt famished. Javid took a seat across from her and took a plate for himself. He paused before responding.

“I guess I’m still used to cooking for two. I’m glad you like it. It feels good to cook again.” Just as he took his first few bites, a knock came at the door. _____ stopped chewing. Javid waved his hand as if dismissing the sound.

“I won’t tell you to relax—I know how you’re feeling—but we’re on Central’s base. We’re as secure as possible. It’s just Stephon.”

The door opened as Javid spoke and a man just taller than the Detective walked through the front door. He wore a long black duster, unbuttoned down the middle with black slacks and a dark green shirt. His hair was a sandy blonde and fell loosely around to his shoulders. _____ barely remembered him from the chaos yesterday. Even in plain sight, he wore twin holsters with a handgun resting on each hip. His put his hands casually in his pockets to push back his jacket, as if to make sure they saw his weapons.

“Hey pal—oh, so she went home with you. You dog!” Stephon grinned and Javid turned a bright shade of red, coughing on his recent bite of toast. _____ even felt her ears burn a little. It certainly wasn’t helping that both men were undeniably attractive.

“Stephon—“ Javid took a drink of his orange juice to hide his face. “I’d tell you to wait until I answer before you barge in, but I know you wouldn’t listen.”

“What, did I interrupt something?” He pulled out the third chair and grabbed a plate. Javid ignored him.

“_____, meet Stephon. Stephon, meet _____. This is the man who usually interrupts my breakfasts. As it turns out, I often overcook and Stephon has a stomach that is as big as his mouth, if you can believe that.” _____ smiled and then paused.

“Oh… is Stephon your… partner? Am I the one who is interrupting?” She didn’t think Javid could turn any redder. Stephon burst in to laughter. The Detective could not respond, he just sputtered over his plate.

“No, not like that. Although it’s been so long since Javid had a piece of ass, I was beginning to wonder myself. Stephon was grinning like a cat with cream. He obviously enjoyed teasing his co-worker relentlessly. Javid stood up from the table and walked down the hall without a word. _____ turned to Stephon.

“Did we upset him?” Stephon shook his head.

“Just embarrassed him is all. Watch. He’ll come back with his shirt on –“ Javid reentered the kitchen wearing a wrinkled t-shirt. Standing next to Stephon in his dress clothes, he looked like a bum in comparison. A cute bum. Stephon leaned over and whispered to her.

“I, on the other hand, do not embarrass as easily.” Javid sat back down at the table.

“Once you’re done destroying my reputation and stealing my women, perhaps I’ll consider dating again.” With as much pride as he could muster, the Detective sat up straight and winked at _____. He looked so unrefined in his dress pants and wrinkled t-shirt that she snorted with laughter and ended up setting Stephon off howling again.

“So you’re not an item then?” Javid seemed to relax more. He pointed a fork with hash browns on it at the other man.

“Stephon? Nah – even if I did swing his way, the man is entirely too pretty. Look at him!”

“So he and half of Central keep telling me.” As if to make his point, he flipped his hair back dramatically. He began eating breakfast and _____ was nearly done with her own plate, ready to get another. The two men continued their friendly banter until it apparently reached a level of unacceptable content after which the Detective hastily gathered their empty dishes and retreated to the kitchen sink. _____ wasn’t exactly sure what had been said but it had effectively ended their morning pleasantries.

By the way Stephon laughed it off and watched Javid walk away, _____ guessed the man was trying to save face. Stephon turned his green eyes, glitter with mischief, to her. Having no more food to delay conversation, she found herself suddenly forced towards casual conversation.

“What exactly is your role in all this?”

“Charming sidekick?” He asked hopefully. _____ shook her head.

“Alright. Shameless bodyguard. For you, not him, before you ask.” It seemed to make sense. She vaguely recalled Stephon exchanging gunfire and carrying her to the hovercraft. Or was it just a dream..?

“Pack up, _____. Your bag is in your room. Get changed, we’ve got to leave again. The ‘Horrors’ seem to have gotten worse. Something has changed. You, too, Stephon.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, pal.”

#

Stephon left, stealing a small pancake for the trip home. Javid disappeared down the hallway and she was left alone to prepare herself for the unknown. She stood up and wandered back down the empty hallways to the open bedroom door. She found her duffel bag near the end of the bed. She set it on the bed itself and opened it up.

As she opened the bag to pull out her spare clothes for the day, she wondered how, exactly, she had changed from her clothes to pajamas. She knew the answer, but decided she wouldn’t ask Javid in front of Stephon to avoid any more damage to the Detective’s delicate reputation.

She slipped in to a teal colored blouse with long billowing sleeves. She found her dress pants and figured she’d follow the men’s example. She didn’t know if Central had a dress code or not. She found her favorite dress shoes and sat on the end of the bed to put them on.

She did notice a small framed photograph was sitting on the desk with organized pictures. The photograph was of two people. She leaned forward to get a closer look. It was Javid and a young woman. The Detective looked a little younger and wore simpler dress clothes. The woman wore hospital scrubs and appeared to be a nurse. Both wore badges that had the ‘Future Events Unit’ logo printed on them. Around the woman’s neck she wore the necklace that Javid now wore.

She turned her attention back to her bag and opened it again. She remembered the envelope at the bottom and pulled it out. The words “I’m Sorry,” stared back at her in handwriting she recognized without having ever seen them before.

Anne Sidane’s final words had been for her niece. _____ had no idea why. After her aunt had exploded to fame from the events of the Identity Theft War, she never had the time for _____ or her mother. They understood, eventually, that Anne was a part of something much bigger than simple family life. She thought she had forgiven her until Anne missed her own sister’s funeral. Their relationship had really ended when _____ was eighteen.

_____ had received job offers and invitations from the Futuregraph © office with her aunt’s signature added as a last minute addition. _____ had never been one for a free ride and so she always just threw them away when they arrived. Anne tried once or twice to contact her but the calls with unanswered and ignored.

If her distant and apathetic niece was truly her last option, then the woman had either burned all her other bridges or had no one else left in her life. _____ had watched her mother turn her back on her own aunt and watched her die alone. Now, her aunt was gone – but, unlike the rest of her family, she would give her aunt one last consideration. There were other people involved who were getting killed and suffering far worse than _____’s own family. What kind of person would she be if she turned her back on the issue when so many were being hurt?

Besides, what real choice did she have?

“_____, almost ready?” Javid’s voice sounded outside the door. The rustled her clothes around to make some noise.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in just a minute.” Once she heard him walk away, she opened the envelope with a twinge of guilt. She had trusted him up until this point but what did she really know about this Detective Javid Rain? Until she knew otherwise, the letter would stay with her.

The envelope was thick with papers. The closest was handwritten and dated. She recognized the date as while she was “kidnapped” and hospitalized. She looked down at what she knew to be her aunt’s last words.

“I’m sorry, _____. I have no time left to explain to you why I’ve lived my life the way I have. I’ve always loved you and your mother. Now, you’re the only one I can trust.” She burned all her bridges, then, she thought, trying to ignore the smeared ink from her aunt’s tears.

“An organization has stolen my confidential research for the Futuregraph. If they compromise my source, may lives will be at stake. I can’t tell you why; only that you’re the only person in the world I can trust. You must save my creation.” _____ was glad she was sitting down. Her aunt’s words were not making much sense. It seemed very vague and cryptic.

“This organization is very dangerous. I believe they were involved with the Identity Theft War. I’m writing this to you while you’re being protected in my personal medical facility. My scientists were providing you the – enhancements – you’ll need to finish what I could not. I fear, however, that the organization discovered my intentions and may try to find you afterwards. The men who intercepted you came highly recommended, but I fear their loyalties could be purchased by this organization.”

Another knock on the door and it started to open. _____ jammed the envelope back in her bag quickly.

“We have to go, now.” Javid appeared in the doorway. She nodded, moving around in front of the bed to hide her bag. She was glad she had chosen dress clothes. Javid had shaved again and wore a dark blue button-up shirt. She could still spot the delicate chain hanging around his neck. Stephon waited for him further down the hallway. He was more alert – he had shifted from ‘friend’ to ‘bodyguard’ now. The three left Javid’s apartment and exited in to the warm sunlight.