Red: What do you do when the rules cannot help you? (Rule Number 3)

by Teya Tapler

  His reaction didn’t surprise her.

  “They’ll force it on you, if you don’t agree,” The painful memories crept behind her eyes as she spoke. Her tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and she headed to the door. Evan had already revealed too much in front of him, while not yet sure why he was here.

  His hand gently stopped her from leaving.

  “Is this what they did to you?” he asked calmly. His hand lifter her chin up and looked into her eyes.

  Evan didn’t return his gaze; she pushed his hand gently and nodded looking down.

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “You’re alive. This is the important part.”

  “Yes, I’m alive,” she said. I am barely alive. She thought then added with a normal voice, “I’m glad you’re here. Please come to the dining room in ten minutes for the tattoo.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said as she closed the door.

  Chapter 6

  Evan entered the lab just in time to find Mort pulling the first pearl out of the mold. From the door she could see the pearl glow in his hands. She couldn’t see Mort’s face but his slow movements and the way he had tilted his head indicated that the result was to his liking. He was mumbling, engulfed by the miracle of the glowing pearl, “This is magnificent, isn’t it?”

  Evan came closer and took her place at the opposite side of the table and waited for him to put the pearl into the special cup then said, “You’ve done it. This time they’d work.”

  “Are you sure?” He didn’t believe his ears. His reader was implying his forthcoming success.

  Evan closed her eyes. Honestly she didn’t want those or any other pearls prepared by Zull Mort ever to work, but she knew she was back in time, living through events that had already happen. She swallowed slowly, then opened her eyes and focused on Mort’s face. He was waiting in anticipation and that was raising his anger level pretty fast. Her dreams were the only thing taming him and Evan secretly enjoyed the tiny moment in time when she had control over that monster. Noticing that his patience may wear off she carefully pronounced every word of her prediction.

  “I did have a dream,” she started.

  “You didn’t-” Mort tried to counter argue that she didn’t sleep during the last six hours but seeing her raised hand he stopped in the middle of the statement.

  “The pearls will work. They’ll be really powerful.”

  “Thank you,” slipped between his lips and Mort hit the top of the table with all his strength. The surface dented under his anger of speaking when he shouldn’t have and tainting the prediction.

  Evan ignored him and started putting on three pairs of gloves. It was a matter of time when he’ll roar at her to help with the pearls and she couldn’t afford to touch those items with bare hands in front of Mort. Not in a million years. He added only one hair in the mixture and the pearl responded with a light glow, it was inconceivable what would the pearls’ reaction be to her touch.

  She corrected the top pair of gloves on her hands and approached the molds.

  “D’you want my help?” she said.

  “Does it matter now after I’ve spoiled the prediction?” Mort shifted his anger at her.

  “The prediction hasn’t been tarnished for this is not the first time I’ve shared it with you,” she said looking him in the eye, slowly and carefully pronouncing each word, etching them in his mind as she spoke. She looked calm, innocent and sincere. The daily practice since she joined the 906 Inquisitors group was paying off. It took long time for Evan to learn how to lie.

  Mort swallowed slowly and looked down at her trying to remember when she had told him that before. His face changed as he forced himself to remember something that never happened.

  “D’you need my help?” she shifted the topic to something safer.

  “Ye-yes. Here you open this one,” he pushed one of the molds towards her.

  Evan pulled the heavy mold closer to the end of the table using both hands. Her face changed, and her facial muscles strained as she forced the weird shaped object to slide over the table top closer to her. Once having it at a comfortable distance, Evan grabbed one of the knives, and using all her strength cracked opened the mold with it. The two pieces snapped off and rattled on the table, revealing a pastel colors speckled pearl. Evan’s heartbeat increased as she looked at her gloves and stretched two hands to grab the pearl. The next step required her to pull the pearl out of the mold and position it wherever Mort told her to.

  She hesitated. A few more seconds and Mort will point his anger powered weapon at her simply because that pearl will glow in her hands. From aside she looked as if she was wandering how best to lift the item.

  “Here, let me take it,” Mort’s hands pulled the pearl away from her and placed it in a cup. “You just open the molds. These things turned out to be heavy.” His mood had shifter again and Mort seemed to have forgotten their conversation from just a few minutes ago. He was completely engulfed in the task at hand.

  Evan quietly signed with relief and headed to open the third mold keeping her hands as far from its content as possible.

  One after another all five pearls came out and each one of them glowed in Mort’s hands. In their light his freckled face looked more frightening than ever and the smile that showed up every now and then had a disturbing nuance. In his mind he was already selecting targets.

  After all five pearls were lined up in their cups, Evan was released to go and Mort arranged the items in a circle. He lovingly looked at them wondering what his next step should be.

  “Excuse me sir,” a low baritone voice interrupted him.

  Mort turned to face Oliver, the Chancellors assistant from the 25th century, and roared at him, “What?” Then seeing an unknown to him person, present in his secret and sacred lab, he lifted his left palm towards the guy and yelled once more,” Who are you? What do you want? How d’you get here?”

  “Your brother sent me here,” Ollie said violating once more the Chancellor’s order not to talk to Mort. “I’ve a very important message for him.”

  “Deliver it to me,” Mort said still pointing his anger powered weapon at Ollie’s head, “he’s not here today.”

  “He said that I’ve to talk only to him.” Ollie retreated but his back hit the wall separating Mort’s lab from Ranshen’s office.

  “You’re talking to me, aren’t you? There shouldn’t be a problem to continue.” Mort said.

  Ollie caved in.”Ple-ease make sure that you repeat to him my words exactly. The message is ‘kill Evangeline after the third success and don’t trust Emil.’ Did you remember it?”

  “Why on Earth my brother asked you to tell him such a thing?” Mort got angrier. ”There’s no one named Evangeline here, and Emil has an extremely high reputation in our circles. It must be a mistake. You must be an imposter, a charlatan or someone from the competing gangs. I’m not going to ask you again. This time you’ll tell me the whole truth,” Mort closed on Ollie.

  Ollie stared at Mort’s palm. The small circle in the middle started to enlarge indicating that it might fire at any moment. Ollie’s eyes moved on Mort’s face as his hands pulled the transcaster gun and sent him back to the Chancellor’s cabinet.

  ***

  The Chancellor was sitting at his desk, writing something in the thick red folder in front of him. The sunlight coming through the tall glass windows reflected off the golden trims of the furniture and the light fixtures. The atmosphere was calm and serene promoting concentration and just decision making.

  When Ollie returned amidst the blue haze the Chancellor lifted his eyes and looked at him. The young man seemed dizzy as he wobbled for a few steps after he landed. Oliver instinctively touched his body to verify that he was in one piece and looked around checking if it was safe.

  “Did you complete your mission?” the Chancellor asked calmly.

  Standing at his landing spot at the other end of the office, away from the furniture and the decorations, Ollie
lowered his head. “I landed in Mort’s lab.”

  The Chancellor dropped his pen. It rolled off the desk and fell, rattling on the marble floor. There was no echo in the soundproofed room making the unnerving thud and clatter sound like gunshots. He swallowed his anger and felt it burn his esophagus on its way down. Whether that failure could be attributed to inaccurate coordinates or technology quirks Ollie was proving not to be so useful anymore.

  The Chancellor clenched his fists: it would be long time before he could find another dedicated soul with Ollie’s skills. It seemed that an eternity had passed before he waved Oliver to leave, “Go and have a rest.”

  When the door closed behind Ollie, the Chancellor hit the top of the desk with two fists making the elegant pens in the white marble pen holder rattled. He knew that, being relatively new technology, when it came to the accuracy of the transcaster guns, there were some aiming problems but he hadn’t encountered one yet. Why did it have to happen that day? Why did it have to happen on that particular mission? Sending Ollie to the past once more might be too dangerous. That excuse of a human being might accidentally obliterate the whole 906 gang.

  He was angry at Ollie. That was his biggest failure so far. In the Chancellors eyes Ollie’s previous mission had been disastrous as well. He was expected to delicately deliver the golden reader maker locket. He reported back doing a pretty good job by dropping it in the pocket of the maroon lab coat in the room where he landed. He had made the delivery and no one had seen him. But the golden locket never made it to Ranshen’s hands.

  The Chancellor closed his eyes and focused on his past, a time long gone now, a time when he and his brother ruled the world. Memories rushed in and he remembered the day they started their work, the day of their first success, the day he gave a maroon lab coat to Amanda so that she could help his brother in the lab. Then a picture of a burgundy-red-headed girl flashed in front of his eyes. The girl fell on the floor in front of him and the medallion rolling off her pocket. Then she looked up and their eyes met…

  The Chancellor knew what he had to do next.

  He took a piece of paper, put the today’s date in the top left corner and wrote, “Kill the girl after the third success and don’t trust Emil.”

  He put the page on the floor and aimed at it with the transcaster gun. The image of him finding that note and actually believing it didn’t show up in his mind. Instead, the Chancellor pictured himself tearing the note into pieces and then searching for the person who dared to joke that way. That wasn’t going to work. He shredded the page and took another one. On the top he wrote the destination date from the transcater gun. It would be more convincing that note was from a point in time closer to the events. He knew well that he would never believe a note with a future date on it even if he recognized his own handwriting. The Chancellor closed his eyes. For a moment he wished he could go back in time and talk to himself, explain what had happened and what is to follow, prevent some of the mistakes they did, help achieve more, gain more power…

  Time travel was complicated. One had to be extremely careful not to run into himself in the time he was visiting. There were a few cases when that had happened and they all have ended with the destruction of the two subjects. That had also been the reason behind the loss of the very inventor of the time travel when he wanted to share some of his more recent knowledge with his younger self. The explosion affected both time dimensions. It had been a miracle that the invention of time travel wasn’t lost.

  Chancellor Kotzmere, Ranshen Mort, didn’t want that to happen. He had carved a pretty comfortable life for himself. After his brother and nephew ended up in jail and the death of the other three gang members, there was no one that could threaten his existence. He could revive his past desires and activities as needed. A smile spread on his face as he wrote the same text on the note under the date and then transcasted it to the past.

  That should suffice. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened. Was he the one finding the note? How did the burgundy-red-headed girl help them? He had so many questions whose answer lied in the past still hidden from him. He waited slowly for the past to change for good.

  Chapter 7

  The dining room was prepared for the tattooing process. Amanda had spread the tools on the far end of the table and Ranshen and Zull stood beside her. When Emil entered they nodded at him and pointed to the end chair with armrests closer to Amanda.

  “Should we strap him?” Amanda asked. “I don’t want to smudge the image like I did on the bald guy.”

  “That hairless person has a name. He’s Telagh,“ Ranshen scolded her. “Be more meticulous this once. I fancy my adviser to have the best impression under his skin. Add a second twist to make it more special,” he ordered her with a voice that required subordination and remained close by to observe her work.

  “Put your left arm here,” Amanda pointed to the armrest and Emil complied. “Here comes the picture,” her red hair bounced and hid her face as she pressed the trigger and started tattooing Emil’s front arm.

  An extremely sharp pain pierce his arm. The throbbing started moving up and down, and left and right as Amanda drew the logo. The ink burned like fire. The sensation started sneaking up the elbow and reached his shoulder. Emil tried to stay still as the thought of Lin enduring the procedure crossed his mind.

  He forced himself not to look. His eyes focused on Amanda’s head and he found himself counting her scarlet hairs. He pushed hard not to think of the events around him. He used all his will power not to move, not to show that it hurts, not to give a sound; he simply grinded his teeth as hard as he could, his whole body tense and strained, cold sweat gradually showing on his forehead.

  An hour later, Amanda finally put the tattoo gun on the table and looked at Emil.

  “It came out perfect,” she smiled. “You’ll see it in a few days. It takes some time for the ink to bond properly to the middle skin layer,” she rubbed a gray paste onto his sore skin and bandaged his forearm as she talked. “Forming the desired three dimensional effects takes time.”

  “I’m glad to embrace a real man amongst us.” Ranshen patted Emil on the back, swung his cape and left.

  “Same here,” said Zull and followed Ranshen.

  “You’re free to go,” Amanda smiled at Emil more openly than when the brothers were there. He ignored her and headed to find Lin. The thought of her wasn’t leaving his mind.

  Emil headed towards the kitchen, the only room whose location he knew. Lin wasn’t there. He pretended to be looking for something to eat. Opening cabinet doors and peeking into the fridge he hoped to spend enough time there until she showed up. Ten minutes later he took a soda from the fridge and wandered into one of the corridors. After a few turns he bumped into Lin. She was walking alone with hands deep into the big pockets of her maroon lab-coat.

  “Hi,” he said quietly. The corridors were echoing when he talked normally.

  “Hi,” she whispered back. As her eyes moved up to his face she noticed the thick bandage on his left arm and gently touched it as if to ease the pain. “I’m sorry,” she said and stroke the bandage carefully.

  “It’s okay. Now I’m officially part of the group,” he grabbed her arm, “Where can we talk?”

  “In my room,” she nodded to her right.

  ***

  Her room was warmer than the corridor and Emil was surprised to see how small it was. He sat on one side of the bed and Lin sat at the other both of them with one leg hanging down. It felt safe behind the locked door. The room was not echoing. It was perfect for their secret meeting.

  “Who are you?” he searched in his mind where he had seen her before.

  Evan hoped that instead he would have said “Hi Evan I am here to bring you back.” His question meant that his starting point in time was either before they’ve met or at least before the last time she had seen him, long before the day when she was helping them to destroy the pearls.

  “I’m Lin,” she said ca
lmly, knowing that sharing the whole truth might endanger him.

  “Do I know you?” Emil asked her still trying to remember where he had seen her before.

  Yes, you do know me, but most likely a much younger me. Evan thought then said, “I may look like someone you know. I get that a lot.”

  “Are you really a reader?” He asked her.

  “I’m not sure you are allowed to ask that question to a reader,” she smiled in return. Yes, she was sure that was Emil, Zander’s friend, but she wasn’t going to reveal her cover in front of him, at least not yet.

  “Sorry, forgot that you – the readers I mean – should not be forced to talk against your will,” he said.

  “Interesting? What else do you know about us?” she saw a chance to learn what she had to do to pass for a real reader.

  “Some of you talk in rhymes,” Emil started, “others have dreams. There are also these who lure people to their places when they have to reveal certain type of predictions. The rumor has it that no one ever sees those people afterwards,” he regretted saying the last thing into her face,” sorry didn’t mean to infer anything.”

  “No harm done, I’m not from that kind,” Evan said, “I just have dreams.”

  Emil looked at her. The form of her face, the way she walked, the way she tilted her head when she talked to him was very familiar. He was positive he had seen her before, somewhere. If only he could remember. Emil explored his memories from past and more recent retrieval missions, seeking her name and more details of their previous encounter. He felt that she was a good person, not part of that group. She might have been sent here on an undercover mission just like him, or because of some weird circumstances she had ended with that ominous family.

  “May I ask what else here’s your responsibility?” Emil asked. Ranshen had told him that everyone was assigned a specific duty: Amanda was doing the shopping, Zull Mort was working on their weapon, Grakhun was working with the sponsors while Telagh was their public relations person.