The Bureau of Time

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The Bureau of Time Page 14

by Brett Michael Orr


  The helicopters touched down on the tarmac, but Cassie stayed seated, her muscles aching as though she had been run over by a truck. The effort of using her powers had drained her far more than she had expected.

  When it mattered most, I was able to reverse time, she thought. She looked down at her shaking hands. Why do people have to die for me to use my powers?

  Shaun was traveling in the other helicopter, but she could see him in front of her, bleeding out on the ground. She could still feel the gun jarring her shoulder. Splashes of red and black cut across her vision, the roar of gunfire and the last screams of dying men filling her ears. She leaned forward, pressing her palms to her eyelids, but in the darkness, she saw him dying again and again. Tears welled up behind her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She wiped them away, her cheeks burning as the other operators departed the helicopter.

  She put her hands down. They were smeared with grime and blood that wasn’t all hers.

  I killed those Adjusters. And it was easy this time. No hesitation. This is what they’ve done. The Bureau has turned me into one of their own.

  She watched another operator jump onto the tarmac, the soldier laden with carbines and spare ammunition. A few weeks ago, she had never even fired a gun in her life. She had been paralyzed the first time, unable to pull the trigger, and now—

  How quickly things change.

  There was crunch of boots against metal, and a dark shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Captain Clay of Blackforest Unit. He towered over her, six feet tall and almost as wide, with a bushy rust-colored beard and a face lined with scars. His size was intimidating, but he never scared Cassie – there was something fundamentally kind beneath his rugged exterior.

  “You right there, darlin’? Director wants to talk. Ain’t no time to be sittin’ around.”

  Cassie sniffed, wiping her cheeks again.

  Pathetic, she scolded herself. You’re better than this. But that didn’t stop the nauseating feeling in her gut as she thought of all those dead bodies, and the blood – so much blood.

  Clay crouched in front of her, bringing his face level with hers. His eyes were dark, and something in his expression echoed her father – strong, confident, understanding. What would he think of me? Killing these monsters? Doing all these inexplicable, unnatural things?

  “It’s normal to be a little shook up,” Clay said, rocking back on his heels. “Nobody here expects a teenager to go out and start killin’ Adjusters like a trained soldier. We all take our own time gettin’ used to this new life.”

  The helicopter’s rotors slowed, the engines shutting off. She lowered her gaze, staring at her lap. “It was too easy this time. I didn’t even think about it.”

  “You did what you had to do. You had to survive. They ain’t human, no matter how much they look it. We’re nothin’ to them. Not people, but targets. Why should we show them mercy, when they’ve never shown us any?”

  She blinked quickly, wrestling with her emotions. Everything was bubbling up inside of her, threatening to come pouring out, stopped only by her desire to hold onto what little remained of her dignity.

  Clay laid one massive hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “Come on, Timewalker. We shouldn’t keep our guest of honor waitin’.”

  She nodded, swallowing past a thick lump in her throat. Clay helped her to her feet, and together they dropped out of the helicopter. An unseasonably cold wind whipped across Brightwood Ranch, cutting straight through her fatigues. Searchlights from the hangar illuminated the tarmac, darkness pressing up against the circle of brightness.

  Three operators of Whirlwind Unit forced Zero across the tarmac and up the sloping path toward the underground base, his handcuffs glowing blue. Director Anderson and General Lehmann stared at Zero as he passed them, more guards rushing to surround the captured Adjuster.

  Captain Clay nodded respectfully to the General, then regrouped with the rest of Blackforest. Shaun came up beside Cassie, standing so close that their arms brushed together. She fought the urge to reach out and grab him, to make sure he was real – and alive. She contented herself with his presence, but somehow it didn’t feel like enough.

  Captain Tallon limped up to the gathering, ashen-faced like the Directors.

  “Timewalkers,” Anderson inclined his head, his voice hollow and his eyes empty. “I’m glad that you returned safely.”

  “It was a slaughter out there, sir,” Shaun said, his voice rising. Anger radiated off his body in hot waves, accompanied by T.E. itself, sending Cassie’s Affinity into a sharp whine. “We never even stood a chance. You have—”

  “It was a risk we had to take,” Lehmann interrupted, cutting Shaun off with a warning glare. “We lost twelve men today to capture that Adjuster, and we will grieve for them. But how many more might die tomorrow, or next week, or in the next year? The Adjusters are becoming more active and we need to head them off now.”

  Shaun sucked in a sharp breath. “How dare you say that, when you were here, hidi—”

  Cassie squeezed his hand, stopping him dead – his face was flushed, but he held his tongue before he could say anything he might regret.

  “This is a dark day for the Bureau,” Anderson said, adjusting his collar. “But there cannot be progress without sacrifice. I want a full report of the operation on my desk tomorrow. But for now,” he added, with a half-hearted attempt at sincerity, “you should get yourselves cleaned up and rested. You are dismissed.”

  The Clockwork operatives snapped out a mechanical salute that was empty of patriotism or respect. Nobody spoke as the small group made their way underground, down the white hallways and through into Sector 5 to deposit their weapons and gear.

  “Ryan’s in the infirmary,” Tallon explained as they left the Armory, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. “A few bruises and cuts, but nothing too serious. Cassie,” he added, frowning at her, “you should get that looked at.”

  She pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing – she didn’t remember hurting herself, but there was definitely a cut above her eyebrow. “I’ll be fine,” she lied. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

  Tallon ran a hand over his face, dark shadows hanging beneath his eyes. “You did well out there, you two. I hope you know that – I’m proud of you.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, as though he hadn’t meant to say that. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, with his usual gruffness. “Wright, get yourself checked.”

  He left, and the two teenagers were suddenly alone. Shaun pulled her aside, down a short service passage that was darker than the regular hallways.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning. “I have to go to the infirma—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t talk.”

  He put his hand on her chest, fingers spread out just below her throat, touching the bare skin above her collar. She felt a blush rising from her throat and onto her cheeks; her stomach fluttered as though it was housing a swarm of butterflies.

  An icy chill flowed through Shaun’s fingertips, followed by a wave of heat through her own body. Energy flowed from his body and into hers, Timewalking the cut above her eyebrow. The skin knitted together and formed a thin scar, just like the hundreds of scars all over Shaun’s body.

  He lowered his hand, and something inside her cried out for his touch again, craving contact with him. She gazed into his eyes, those dark pools of gray, and something broke – the walls around her heart crumbled, releasing the confused emotions that she had pushed down and resisted.

  How long had she been the crazy girl at school, the freak that saw monsters? The girl that nobody would dare be seen with? How long had she been told she was insane, how long had she felt alone, judged, ridiculed? And now, standing in front of her, was someone that could understand her, someone she could trust, someone who would never betray her.

  Before she could overthink it, before the doubt could creep back into her heart, Cassie did the most im
pulsive thing she had ever done in her life, more impulsive than moving back to Pennsylvania, more reckless than joining the Bureau of Time.

  She leaned forward and kissed Shaun full on the mouth.

  Tentatively at first, afraid. Then he reciprocated, and she was suddenly swept up in a rush of emotions and energy. His hand slipped off her chest and wrapped around her back, pulling her close, until there was no space between them at all. The world vanished around them, no Adjusters, no Bureau.

  It was just them, together.

  When Cassie finally pulled back, her cheeks turning the same color as her hair, she stayed in Shaun’s grasp, inches from him, unwilling to break the comfort of his arms around her. He smiled at her, warm and genuine, the first time he had looked even remotely happy in the past three weeks.

  He leaned down and kissed her again, shorter this time, his lips brushing against hers.

  She let out a low sigh, releasing her worry and fear. She placed her head against his chest, her fingers running along the base of his neck, feeling ridged scars.

  “I didn’t know,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Neither did I,” she replied. She pulled back, wanting to kiss him again, to lose herself in his touch – but she heard footsteps coming, and she pulled away.

  It was Ryan who appeared, his arms wrapped in white cotton. He paused, his eyes finding Cassie and Shaun’s hands interlocked. She dropped his hand, angling away from him – she wasn’t sure what she felt for Shaun, but she didn’t want the whole Bureau finding out before she did.

  “Having fun, I hope?” Ryan asked, raising one eyebrow. His voice was pained, a hurt expression on his face that she didn’t understand.

  She hesitated. “Shaun was just patching me up.”

  Ryan leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes downcast. “We lost a lot of good men today. Friends of mine.”

  “I’m sorry,” Shaun answered, his voice low. “Me too.”

  “You know what the sad thing is?” Ryan asked, his voice hollow. “Those men were disposable. We all were, today – all of us normal soldiers. Timewalkers are harder to come by, and the Bureau knows that. You were never the bait – we were.”

  Cassie recoiled at the sudden venom in Ryan’s voice – she had never heard him talk like that before.

  Ryan shook his head. “We had it wrong. We assumed that the Bureau was willing to sacrifice two Timewalkers to capture an Adjuster, and that operators like me were there to bring the Adjuster in if you failed, or were killed.”

  Ryan pushed off from the wall, idly running a hand over his bandaged forearm. He looked older suddenly, far older than his nineteen years. His shoulders slumped with defeat, and there was no light in his eyes, just the darkness of a man who had seen too much blood for a lifetime.

  “All along,” he said, those hollow eyes fixing on Cassie, staring deep into her soul. “All along, we were the bait. The Adjusters came to kill us, to attack the Bureau itself. They put two Timewalkers out there to make sure that, when we all died, there was someone strong enough left behind to capture an Adjuster.”

  A horrible, sickening feeling gripped Cassie’s stomach; she saw the bodies again, heard their dying screams. Bile rose in the back of her throat, harsh and acidic, and she put a hand over her mouth. No. It can’t be true. The Bureau wouldn’t do that to its own people. Right?

  “I signed up to protect my country,” Ryan continued, every word a blade. “I was supposed to serve in Ukraine. I was ready to die in a foreign land, but when they offered me this position, I took it. I thought I would be protecting fellow Americans on home soil. Instead, I was just a chess piece, a pawn to be sacrificed when the time came. I hope you understand – those men today, they died for you.”

  Then Ryan was gone, and Cassie found herself making mumbled excuses to Shaun. The comfort she had taken in him couldn’t help her now – she needed to be alone. Grief and pain rushed up to consume her, her mind spinning. She stumbled through the base, passing the showers and slamming into the dormitory. She drew the curtain around her bed and collapsed face-first onto the pillow.

  She cried – for herself, for the men who had lost their lives, for her parents, for everything, for every stupid thing that had seemed important years ago but now, in the light of the harsh reality of life and death, seemed utterly pathetic.

  When the lights were turned off hours later, Cassie rolled over onto her back and wiped away the crusted remains of her tears. She slipped into an uneasy sleep, waking every so often, her heart racing, the faces of the dead staring at her from the shadows, watching with judgmental eyes.

  * * *

  They held a funeral service in the morning.

  Inside the hangar, twelve coffins were lined up side-by-side, each draped in the American flag, the wooden caskets unmarked – as anonymous in death as they had been in life.

  The entire agency had gathered to pay their respects. Director Anderson addressed them, but Cassie barely heard his speech. Somber phrases like duty, sacrifice and sworn to defend washed over her without making an impact. They were just empty words, devoid of emotion, a rote speech that the Director had probably used dozens of times before. General Lehmann was more honest, but his voice was still cold and blunt, and when he spoke of the dead, he referenced only their contribution and sacrifice – not their names, nor the families they left behind.

  The coffins were loaded into a V-22 Osprey helicopter, flown in from Naval Station Norfolk in the early hours of the morning. The massive VTOL aircraft waited on the wide tarmac, the coffins disappearing inside its belly in time with a bone-jarring 21-gun salute for the fallen. As the Osprey roared to life, lifting off into the sky, the Bureau’s agents trickled back into the base, their hearts heavy and their heads held low.

  Cassie walked next to Shaun, her hand hovering inches from his. Despite everything that had happened in the past day, she couldn’t help but think of Shaun’s hand around her waist, his lips against hers. She knew it was wrong to crave something so pathetically self-centered, but with such morbid thoughts lingering in her mind, she couldn’t help but want that vibrant essence of life.

  Nobody was looking directly at them. She grabbed Shaun’s hand and felt him squeeze back, warmth and something inexplicably powerful flowing through her palm, sending a shiver through her veins.

  They entered through the main lobby of the Bureau, a wide space with a marble floor and armed guards protecting the reinforced doors. The agency’s emblem was etched into the ground, the eagle’s wings reaching from wall to wall, the hourglass caught in its talons.

  Director Anderson was waiting for them. “Briars, Wright, you need to come with me.”

  “What’s happening?” Cassie asked, her heart racing.

  “It’s the thing you brought in,” Anderson said, his upper lip curling in disgust. His long strides forced Cassie into a short jog. “It is refusing to talk with Bureau officials. Says it will only talk with you.”

  Cassie and Shaun shared an anxious look.

  “He seemed to know us somehow,” Shaun replied, as they headed toward the mysterious Sector 9 – Security and Holding. “He wanted to kill me. He talked about making me ‘atone’ for ‘sins.’”

  Anderson shook his head, slowing as they approached the blastdoor to the Holding Cells. He turned back to the Timewalkers, his face tight.

  “Before you go in, I want to say something.” His voice was suddenly graver than his eulogy speech just minutes earlier. His dark eyes flicked between the teenagers. “I’m convinced that the Adjusters are – are not human. We know very little about them. We call them time-travelers, and that might be true. They speak of the future, and it’s quite possible they know about things that are going to happen.”

  “Hold on,” Shaun frowned, holding up a hand. “Have you actually talked to these things before?”

  Director Anderson sucked in a deep breath. He lowered his voice despite the quiet of the corridor. “A long time ago, the Bureau had the opportunity – very
briefly – to interrogate an Adjuster. Most of our information about Adjusters came from that individual, a vile monster that spoke in riddles and lies.”

  “What information did you get?” Shaun asked, his voice dangerously steady. Cassie recognized that deadly calm – it was far worse than his angry outbursts.

  “That is classified information, well above your paygrade. The simple fact remains that the Adjusters know about the future – not the exact details of what happens in the next few seconds or minutes, but they definitely know about the world twenty years from now. They know how fascinated people are with the future, and they’ll use that to their advantage. So I want you, both of you, to promise me that you’ll keep a level head – that you will remember why we are doing this: to gain as much information as we can about the Adjusters and their movements, so we can end this once and for all. Promise me that.”

  “I promise,” Shaun said, without meeting the Director’s eyes. Cassie agreed in turn.

  Anderson nodded, apparently satisfied. He signaled to a camera watching them, and the blastdoor split apart with a dull rumble, metal teeth disappearing into the ceiling and floor. They walked past armed guards and down a short corridor, their footsteps echoing.

  The hallway ended in a single door, with one soldier on either side of a submarine-style wheel.

  As the Director approached, the soldiers snapped to attention.

  “Open it,” Anderson commanded. The soldiers used the wheel to crank the heavy door open. Metal pylons retracted with a ponderous groan, the door swinging back on greased hinges.

  The cell beyond was bright, almost completely white.

  The room was hexagonal, with a soldier at each of the five spare points. In the center of the room was a glass box, also hexagonal, just large enough to contain a small stool – no bed, no toilet, nothing aside from that simple three-legged chair.

  Perched on the stool, his legs folded beneath him like an ancient sage, was the Adjuster called Zero.

 

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