The prisoner’s hands were bound behind his back and his arms were pulled up, tied to a rope attached to a ceiling. He averted his eyes when he saw the captain approach.
“Name?” said Captain Delacroix, turning his head to a guard, who sat at the table with a computer. The guard shook his head.
“The girl called him ‘Jude,’” said Delacroix, thinking. He turned to the prisoner. “You were found with no identification. As a citizen of the Celestial Federation, you are required to give your name to an officer who requests it. Tell me your full name.”
The young man simply looked at him.
“I thought you’d be difficult.” He made a quick motion to a guard, who pulled a lever. A pulley on the ceiling moved to pull up the rope, until the prisoner was pulled a foot off the ground, screaming.
“Name?”
“No!” the prisoner yelled.
“This doesn’t just cause excruciating pain,” said Delacroix. “Give it a minute and it’ll dislocate your arms.”
The prisoner wouldn’t speak. Delacroix looked at the guard, who pulled the lever down further. The prisoner was sent another foot off the ground.
“Jude Fawkes!” the prisoner finally shouted. “My name is Jude Fawkes!”
“Good,” said Delacroix. The guard pushed the lever in, sending Jude downward. As soon as his shoes scraped the floor, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily.
“The only Jude Fawkes on record was born in Florence, Italy, about ninety years ago,” said the guard, after looking up the computer file. “Prisoner’s fingerprints and retina scans match. Fawkes disappeared at the age of twenty-four.”
Delacroix smiled at the prisoner. “And you don’t look a day over twenty-five.” He held up the silver timepiece. “How does this little device work?”
“Please,” said Jude, his eyes wide. “I can’t tell you.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s broken.”
“But you’ve used it. You used it to come here, all the way from Italy, all the way from another time. How is it there, anyway? I’ve never been to Florence.”
He stared at the captain, breathing hard.
“I’m waiting.”
Jude had regained his confidence. “Just kill me,” he said. “I’m never going to tell you how to use that.”
Delacroix walked over and pulled the lever. The rope pulled Jude into the air, leaving in dangling, crying out, thrashing. The captain watched him blankly.
“They say that someone has come after you, Jude Fawkes. A girl is running around the ship. All of my best soldiers have been dispatched to find her. You see, I don’t need to get this information out of you. In a few minutes I can just ask her.”
Jude glared at him. He took in a breath, closed his eyes, and stopped screaming.
“If Ariel is here,” said Jude, his words punctuated by drawn-out breaths, “then you’d better run.”
“Why?”
He started to snicker. “You don’t even know, do you?” he whispered.
Delacroix heard a loud boom in the hallway outside. “Aren’t those doors sound-proofed?”
The guards looked at him, worried, and he pulled out a radio. “Report.”
“Captain,” came the crackled response, “she’s made it inside the cell block. She’s taken someone hostage.”
“I don’t care. Why hasn’t she been stunned?”
“She has—” The com went fuzzy for a moment. “—blaster that shoots lead—” After a loud crack, the transmission cut out.
Delacroix pushed the lever in, and the prisoner’s feet touched the floor.
“Not doing so well?” Jude asked.
“If you can hear this message, do not open the door,” the Captain radioed. “Do not, under any circumstance—” Another crack. He pulled out his blaster. “I’m going out there.”
“Captain—” said the guard.
Delacroix turned, enraged. “Yes, cadet?”
The guard seemed to have changed his mind. “As you wish, sir.”
4.
Ariel peered around a corner, observing a hallway that contained a row of several vault-like doors. The prisoners’ cells. A few guards stood in the way, but that wasn’t much of a problem.
“I get it now,” said Ariel. “Jude’s the prisoner I’m supposed to get out. He went back in time to stop them from tracking us. But they caught him, and realized we exist. Then they started tracking us.”
“What?”
“You’ll understand me some day. I think. But the question is, how do I get him out?”
“Isn’t your teleporter working yet?”
She glanced down at the watch. “Time machine, and it hasn’t recharged yet. About three more minutes should do it.” A blast shot from behind came close to them, and she pulled him along. “All right, Agent Nineteen, how do I get in?”
“The guards have ID cards that open the door.”
“Right. Okay. Can you just do me one favor? If a girl comes to you in the future, asking you to be her partner, then go! Even if you have to leave behind someone you love, it will save your life.” She looked down. “But you probably won’t remember that, so it doesn’t matter.”
Another blast. The Celestial guards were creeping closer.
“Watch out,” he said. “The soldiers will shoot on sight.”
Ariel pulled out a pistol. “Not if I shoot first.” She darted into the hallway with the blaster in her right hand, the pistol in her left. The bullets smashing into the wall and floor frightened the guards long enough for her to hit them with the blaster.
Ariel grabbed a card from one of the unconscious guards’ pockets. She slid it into the wall, but nothing happened.
“The guards from inside have to respond to unlock it,” yelled Thomas. “Otherwise, you have to wait thirty seconds.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” she screamed.
“Look out!”
The row of five prisoners’ cells lay behind her, and Celestials approached from a hallway to her left and right. The whole area was shaped like a V, and she was trapped. She glanced down at the time piece. Still nothing.
“I give up,” she said. “Shoot me.”
“With pleasure,” said Delacroix, from behind.
Ariel instinctively closed her eyes, but nothing happened. She opened them. The guards were firing at her, but they seemed to be in slow motion; when the sparks neared her, the air seemed to ripple. An invisible force field enveloped her.
She looked down at her faintly-glowing pocket watch, amazed. “It has self-preservation,” she murmured. “Electricity can damage it, so it blocks it.”
The agent in Pompeii hadn’t been missing her. He just couldn’t get a shot in.
There was, she saw with a bit of surprise, one trade-off to the protection. Apparently it required a large amount of energy to put up a shield, because her hologram failed. Her clothes blinked back to the style of the 21st century, instead of the all-black military garb she’d been displaying.
No matter. She pocketed the watch and pulled out her pistol, pointing it at Delacroix. “Open the cell. Now.”
He didn’t move. “How did that blast not affect you? It would take the fight out of anyone. How did your clothes—?”
She tightened her grip on the gun. Delacroix got the message. He put in his card and typed a security override, and the door opened.
“Thank you,” said Ariel. She turned to Thomas, gave a quick nod, and slipped inside the room. The door slid closed behind her.
The lights had been turned off, and the room was dimly lit, with computer consoles glowing in one corner. Looks like one of Di’s video games, she thought.
A guard appeared with a blaster, but she only turned, watching the blast flicker and fade away.
“What—how—” said the soldier.
“Time travel,” she replied. She grabbed his arm and shot him with his own weapon; he hit the floor, stunned.
She stepped closer, and the ligh
ts flickered on. When they adjusted, her heart nearly hit her mouth.
A young man was standing with his arms pulled up, like a marionette. His head was down. Ariel slipped her pistol into its holster, her watch wrapped around her hand. It was glowing a bright gold, and started to tick.
The prisoner looked up, his eyes widening when he saw her.
“Jude Fawkes,” she said. “Just the man I’m looking for.”
When Delacroix forced the door open, Ariel and the prisoner were gone.
Chapter Nine
June 17, 2507
Ariel arrived back at the ship that evening, and found a twenty-five-year-old journalist pacing in the ship’s lounge.
“Ariel! It’s been awhile. Are you all right? Did you find your friend?”
She stared at him for a moment, realizing he had no memory of the incident. “Yes,” she said. “Yep. He’s fine now. He’s at the base with Bailey.”
“What’s wrong?”
Her voice caught in her throat for a moment. “You don’t remember anything about your time in the secret police?”
“Bits and pieces, why?”
“Thomas, I saw you. You were four years younger. You ... told me to call you Agent Nineteen.”
He sat down. “You did see me. What did I do?”
“You helped me. Saved my life, really.”
She was still stunned by what she was capable of. With Jamie, she had always been a carefree traveler. Now that she had to fight for her life, her strength frightened her. But she was also overwhelmed.
“I was off the planet!” she said, amazed. “You were off the planet. God, you don’t even like cars! How’d you get into a spaceship?”
“I ... don’t remember. Was it the Lunitron? They send soldiers up there all the time. Training ops, that sort of thing. Are you sure you’re all right, kiddo?”
“I need a minute.”
He considered. “Right,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “I need to investigate Damien’s case. We need to examine the facts, find out what we’re facing. Maybe I can get an interview with someone involved with the Council.”
“Thomas—”
“You talked to the forensic scientist, right? I’ll look up the laws and see what the evidence will do.”
“Thomas.”
“I also can dig up documentation of other assassinations, and see what happened in—”
“Thomas!”
He turned to her. “What?”
Ariel sat down on the red sofa. “I saw you two minutes ago sounding and acting completely different. I just need a second.” After a moment of thought, she added: “Also, I need my ‘chill’ playlist.”
She pulled a little gadget out of her pocket. Based on the earbud headphones, Thomas guessed it was a music player. She turned it on and started listening.
“Is that from your time?” he asked. “I see you don’t have wireless technology yet. Are you still on MP3s?”
She sighed. “What’s your century on, O great music journalist?”
“Well, we tried a bunch of formats over the years—for some reason everyone really loves vinyl—but we’re mostly back to digital. Sound technology hasn’t changed too much, but the way we store files has, so the auditory quality’s much better. How many songs can you fit on your device?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A thousand?”
He shook his head. “You poor kid.”
Ariel took off the MP3 player, wound the headphones around it, and tossed it to him. “Here, look it over. Maybe you’ll find something interesting.”
He poked through the controls. “This is … old.” He sat down. “I still can’t believe you saw me in the past. Could you go back in time and find out how I got shot?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I really, really don’t want to.”
Neither of them really wanted to continue that line of conversation.
“Fine. Right.” He paced. “What’s our working assumption? That Damien is completely innocent, or that he did kill the king, but for someone else?”
She thought for a minute. “Let’s go with completely innocent. His fingerprints weren’t on the weapon, and he wasn’t wearing gloves. So who killed the king?”
“It would have to be a male with dark hair,” said Thomas. “I saw the shooter just for a second.”
“How do you know that’s what you saw? It was a stormy day, and it was getting dark.”
“I saw it,” he protested. “Dark hair.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll have to go back,” she said. “Scene of the crime. I can record video footage.”
“Someone already did.” He grabbed his laptop and put it on the table, and pressed a key to play a video.
It was a shaky recording from the crowd, and showed the king starting his speech. Then a shot rang out. The camera moved around and jerked up to where the shooter, standing on the balcony, turned away and darted out of sight, as screams sounded from the crowd. It was the first time Ariel had seen the assassination.
“I can’t get a good look at him,” she murmured. “But they’re already pretty set on executing Damien, right? They just need the Council’s final verdict.”
“Pretty much.”
“Ugh. I wish we were back in my time. They’d take years to do a trial, examine evidence, make appeals, everything. None of this summary-execution stuff.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“The plan is ... I don’t have a plan. No, I’ll go back in time to the scene, and stand on the balcony.”
“You’re not there,” he said, playing the video again, then pointed. “There!” He paused it. “Just one figure. What kind of rifle is that, anyway?”
“M-16.”
“Then I wouldn’t barge in on the shooter if I were you.”
Ariel sighed and trudged into the kitchen. Jack, the ship’s repair-bot, stood by the sink. “I’m sorry, my processors are not acquainted with you. What is your name?”
“Ariel Midori.”
A click. “Noted. How are things, Miss Midori?”
“Not good,” she said, sitting at the table. “I’ve been here for, what, how many days? And I’m still no closer to anything than when I arrived.”
“Perhaps you should rest,” the robot said thoughtfully. “You seem tired.”
“Maybe.”
She wasn’t supposed to be worrying about Damien, anyway. She should have found the lieutenant who was tracking time travelers…
Ariel sat upright. She’d forgotten to take Jude’s watch back when she rescued him. Delacroix would still have it. And, going by a global timeline, the next time she appeared would have been to visit...
“Oh my God,” said Ariel. “Jamie.”
2.
Jamie Parsons hummed to himself as he put away his razor and shaving cream. It was almost seven p.m. on June 17, but the rock star lived by his own schedule.
He splashed his face with water, humming a tune. A new song? Maybe. His head had always held melodies, as far back as he could remember. He wiped his face with a towel, closed the mirror to the medicine cabinet, and then screamed.
Framed in the mirror was the reflection of a red-haired girl. Jamie turned around, gasping. “Don’t do that to me,” he said.
“Sorry,” she said, sheepishly, and glanced down at her watch. “I just set it to find you.” She looked up. “How’ve you been?”
He stumbled into the hallway, and became even more frightened when the girl followed him there. He had messy, jet-black hair, but his face still held the boyish good looks from his days as a rock star.
“You can’t exist,” he said.
“Jamie, it’s me.”
“You were in my bathroom. Ghost from the past, in my bathroom.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you the other day. I got the date wrong, honestly. But, while I’m here, I thought I’d stop by. How long has it been? Six years? A few days for me.”
/>
“You’re not real. I’m losing my mind.”
Ariel put her hands on her hips. “It’s me. Ariel.”
That didn’t coax him at all, and she felt a little deflated. Jamie, a great friend and one of the greatest rock musicians of his time, did not even concede to the fact that she existed? Perhaps he just needed a little convincing.
“Jamie, it’s me! I’m a time traveler. We both were. Don’t you remember?” She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “And yes, I missed you.”
That did it. He collapsed into her arms, sobbing. “Ariel! I thought you’d forgotten about me. I couldn’t say a word to anyone. I wondered if it all really happened.”
Ariel let him weep without any reciprocating action on her part. She was actually quite confused. But it must have been a shock to see her, and Jamie always had a fragile state of mind. She looked down the hall to a case showing his various trophies, which included two Grammys. “You seem successful.”
“Oh my God!” He sprung up. “Ariel, when I left, I was just thinking of starting the band. But it’s been huge. Songs that topped the charts, legions of fans—”
“I know,” she said. “I’ve always known.”
He pondered. “Why are you here, then?”
She pulled a platinum pocket watch out from under her jacket, then held it out for him. “Your old watch.”
He didn’t move. “I don’t want it.”
She took his hand and put the watch in it, then closed his hand over it. “I need you to take it. I’ve got secret police on the lookout for me. If anything happens, you have to help Thomas and Zoe.” She stepped back.
He seemed confused. “Why? What’s going to happen?” He took a step closer. “You, uh, you know what’s supposed to happen to me, right?”
“Jamie—”
“Forget it,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “Why did it take you so long to come for me?”
“I tried to set the watch for 2501, but I must’ve messed up. And now people are tracking me, and if I can’t figure out how to stop it, it’ll be the end of the Saturnine Order.”
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