The Bureau of Time

by Brett Michael Orr

  Shaun pushed the handle down and entered.

  The Comms Room was empty.

  Thick carpet silenced his footsteps as he crossed the threshold, his breath clouding in the freezing air. It was unnaturally cold – ice crystals had formed on the walls. The nauseating stench of death filled his nostrils, but there were no bodies. His Affinity spiked, excited by the tremendous amount of T.E. surrounding him, all of it concentrated into a single point in the very middle of the room.

  Banks of computers arranged in semi-circles lay smoking; chairs were overturned. The carpet and walls were stained with blood. He took another step forward, his pulse quickening, his palms slick with sweat.

  The walls dissolved into utter darkness, the floor dropped out from his feet, and he let out a panicked scream that fell flat.

  Now he was standing in the middle of nowhere, an endless black void stretching out in all directions. Shaun gripped his six-shooter tightly, his heart thundering against his ribcage. A raw stream of Temporal Energy parted around his body and slammed together in front of him. Light sparked where the streams fused into one, rainbow-colored shards shooting outwards. He took a tentative step forward, his foot sinking into something soft and pliable, like a rubber mat.

  “HEY!” Shaun bellowed, turning around in a circle. “ZERO! You hiding in the shadows? Come out and face me!”

  There was no echo or return answer, no light or sound. He took a few more steps, then started jogging. In the darkness, he had no clear direction, no way of measuring time or distance. After what felt like a few minutes, but might have been hours, he slowed to a stop. He ran a hand through his hair – a hand he could see now, lit by a pale light, ghostly and silver.

  He turned around, trying to determine the source of the light, but it didn’t exist. Shaun let out a low growl and fired his gun upward.

  In the bright flash of the gunshot, he saw a face in the darkness.

  He leveled his gun at the face, but the darkness returned, wrapping him in a blanket of shadow. He stepped backward, tripping over something solid.

  Now he was falling, down into the bottomless void, screaming but never hearing his own voice. The dark pressed all around him and he reached out with his hands, desperately searching for something to hold onto. He plunged into wet liquid, the substance enveloping him, worming its way into his ears, his mouth, his nose, rushing through his insides.

  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; his body was screaming in distress, his lungs burning. He felt his blood boil, his skin melt away, his muscles slide from his bones; his mind disconnected from reality and drifted through the infinite universe.

  Shaun felt nothing. Thought nothing. He simply existed.

  A tiny pinprick of light shone forth from the dark, rapidly growing in size, rushing toward him. He tried to move, but he was paralyzed. The light spread across the horizon, consuming his entire vision, blasting into him with an excruciating amount of heat. Then the light retreated, the heat subsided, and he was left alone, time passing him by, space dilating and expanding around him.

  “Now you understand my birth.”

  Shaun stood in the middle of The Great Lawn, in Central Park.

  New York City lay in ruin around him, the skyscrapers smoldering. The park was overgrown: thick tree roots cracked the walking paths, and the grass reached his knees. The iconic softball fields were covered with weeds, and dead trees overhung the park. Ash swirled around the metropolis.

  The immense city was utterly silent – gone was the honking of cars, the rumble of the subway, the loud chatter of millions of people. Through the gaps in the skeletal trees, he saw abandoned vehicles on the sidewalk, hundreds of yellow taxis crashed into each other. Signs of looting marred the condemned buildings. A pack of feral dogs darted around the reservoir, snarling in his direction before vanishing into the woods.

  Cool air brushed against his skin. It was noon, but the light was cold and unfriendly, lacking real warmth – the sun was hidden behind a thick layer of dark-gray cloud. An uneasy feeling passed through his gut, hundreds of memories flooding back to him. It was on the streets of Manhattan that Shaun had first encountered the Adjusters; in those dark, unfriendly alleys, he had lived alone, lost and afraid, until the Bureau had rescued him.

  This is where it began.

  This is where it will end.

  Shaun turned to face the First Adjuster, the monster that called itself Zero.

  Zero stood a few paces away, idly spinning a six-shooter around on his finger. Shaun reached for his belt, his hand closing on empty space. He was confused and disoriented, now unarmed against the most powerful Adjuster in existence.

  “Where are we?” Shaun asked, fighting to keep his voice level. Zero stopped spinning the gun, a vicious grin splitting his face.

  “You’re in my world,” Zero said ominously. “This is the world that Timewalkers destroyed. A world of pristine beauty brought low by war and human pride. A world you had a hand in destroying, Shaun Briars.”

  “I don’t accept responsibility for that,” he countered. He took another look around, his eyes lingering on the burning skyscrapers and rusted cars. “That wasn’t me. That was another version of me – someone who had a different life, who made different decisions!”

  “You are the same person. You are arrogant now, as you were then. You cannot escape your fate!”

  “You’re wrong! We can control our own destiny – I am what I choose to become.”

  “Then you are a fool!” Zero roared. “I am trying to save your world!”

  “Saving it by burning it to the ground? That’s no savior.”

  “The Bureau of Time and White Tower are threats that must be removed!” Zero howled. “Look at this world, look what White Tower did! They will come to your world and they will repeat the cycle! I can help; I will erase the Bureau of Time there, and destroy White Tower here. I will save all of our people!”

  “And enslave them under your rule?” Shaun spat. “I’d rather be a free man in a broken world than a prisoner in utopia.”

  Zero’s mouth formed a hard line.

  “We are at odds, once again,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I tried to help you, I tried to warn you…but you refuse to listen to reason.”

  “I refuse to listen to lies,” Shaun growled. He was weaponless and stranded in limbo, but he wouldn’t let Zero manipulate him. Do the exact opposite of whatever he’s expecting.

  What’s he expecting? That I’ll stand and fight, or that I’ll agree with his twisted dream?

  “Then my vision is incompatible with you,” Zero said.

  The Adjuster leaped forward, covering the distance in a single bound. Shaun was caught by surprise, and Zero smacked him in the face with the gun. Shaun hit the ground, rolled away and scrambled upright, his cheek burning. The monster advanced on him again, a steel blade shining in his left hand.

  “I will make this right!” the Adjuster shouted. “I will avenge my people!”

  He lashed out with the blade, driving Shaun backward across Central Park, the Timewalker stumbling and dashing out of the way. He felt lethargic, as though something was holding him back, his legs moving slowly – so slowly. Zero’s blade found its mark several times, carving long gashes in his arms and chest. Shaun desperately tried to Timewalk his wounds, but Zero closed in on him, driving him back toward the reservoir, never letting up.

  A thin layer of ice had spread across the lake, and the fence was broken in places. Blood streamed down Shaun’s arms as he stumbled across the running track, dodging every other blow, trying to escape the Adjuster’s onslaught, but only losing more ground.

  Zero forced Shaun through the broken face, onto the frozen lake.

  The ice creaked dangerously beneath his feet, thin cracks spreading across the surface like a spider-web. The treacherous ground wouldn’t hold their weight for long. Do the exact opposite of whatever he’s expecting. I have to fight back!

  Shaun forced himself to act, drawing on
his anger and fear, converting it into an aggressive burst of power. He suddenly matched the Adjuster’s fury, ducking under Zero’s arm and slamming his elbow into the creature’s kidney.

  Zero howled and spun around, his mouth open wide – he was surprised, taken aback by Shaun’s sudden move. Shaun lashed out with his foot, hearing Zero’s knee crack beneath his kick. The Adjuster dropped to the ground, the ice shattering around him. Through broken chasms, the frigid water stirred below.

  Shaun wrestled the six-shooter from Zero’s grasp and fired straight at his chest.

  A powerful surge of energy exploded out of the Adjuster’s body, deflecting the shot and hurling Shaun through the air. He slammed into the ice, the air forced from his lungs.

  He wormed backward as Zero limped toward him, knife held low. Shaun fired his six-shooter, cocking and firing, the gun rocking his shoulder back into the ice, water splashing up over him. Crimson blood smeared the white ice as he crawled away. Silent buildings watched with empty eyes as the two inhuman beings faced off against each other. Gunshots roared across the lake toward the dead city.

  Each of Shaun’s rounds hit an invisible wall of energy surrounding Zero, dropping harmlessly to the ground.

  In the blink of an eye, Zero was on top of Shaun, one knee pressed against his chest, pinning him in place. The monster grinned viciously, a triumphant laugh escaping his mouth, his breath stinking of rotting flesh. He raised his knife, the blade shifting and twisting in his grasp.

  There was another tremendous crack and the ice finally gave way.

  Shaun plunged into the water, sinking down into the reservoir. The cold entered his bones, chilling his core temperature within seconds; he snorted water, his lungs rapidly filling with fluid. He floundered in the darkness, trying to swim toward the light above, but the more he struggled, the further he sank.

  Darkness consumed him, and he closed his eyes, allowing his body to drift down into the abyss.

  Something rushed out from the crevices of his mind, a chaotic series of memories assaulting him. He saw a fuzzy image of his parents, taken from the eyes of a two-year-old boy: a handsome man in a black suit, and a young woman with brown hair tied up in a corporate-style bun. Now he was sitting in front of the television, felt his grandmother pull him away from the news as the planes plunged into the towers again, and again, over and over, in an endless media cycle of horror—

  He was older now, crouched by a doorknob, listening to his foster parents talk to each other in hushed tones.

  “He doesn’t fit in, Carol. He won’t work for our family.”

  “Would the orphanage take him back?”

  “We can only try.”

  He was cramming clothes into his backpack, shouting over his shoulder, hot tears streaming down his cheeks; he slammed the front door and ran down the street, hailing the first cab he could find, thrusting his entire allowance into the driver’s grubby hands—

  He was running down the dark alleys of Manhattan. Shadows followed him as he barreled down a narrow lane, his heart in his throat. He was cornered, his back against a dirty brick wall. Three Adjusters advanced on him, their blades shining in the light of the city that never slept—

  Now Shaun was sitting on a grassy hill, Cassandra Wright beside him. Her red hair shone like fire in the sun’s light, and he was focusing on her slim fingers toying with a blade of grass. Then Cassie was screaming at him, her face screwed up in rage, and the blade of grass had become an actual blade. Shaun backed away, falling down the hillside, the earth parting to swallow him in a warm embrace—

  Shaun felt his dormant powers activate, coursing through his veins, burrowing through his bones, exploding into life in every cell of his body. It was a virus, aggressive and unstoppable, tearing through his DNA, destroying and reconstructing in an instant, awakening his true potential, born of the endless abyss, fueled by his desire to survive.

  Shaun snapped his eyes open to see Zero plunge a knife deep into his chest, the blade sinking hilt-deep into his ribcage. The Adjuster rolled backward onto his heels, threw his head back and roared at the sky, laughing and celebrating, his voice drowned out by the raging storm.

  They were on top of Eaglepoint Base, black clouds dumping rain on them, an ocean pushed through a sieve. The satellite dishes groaned in the wind. Lightning split the sky apart and deafening thunderclaps exploded across the heavens.

  This is not a vision. This is reality. So why does it feel like a dream?

  Why can’t I feel the knife?

  Zero stumbled upright, ignoring Shaun’s body, his shoulders rising and falling as he chuckled to himself. Temporal Energy swirled around them, anomalies flickering in and out of existence. Shaun glanced down at the knife, blood pooling around the hilt.

  Do the exact opposite.

  He expects me to die.

  So I will live.

  Shaun stood, absorbing energy from the infinite universe, his body repairing the fatal wound in a heartbeat. He pulled the blade from his chest, the wet schlick masked by the noise of the storm. He advanced on the First Adjuster, knife held low, ready to end this battle in a single blow.

  Zero twitched, sensing something, and turned back at the last second, his mouth opening in surprise as Shaun stabbed the knife up into the Adjuster’s jaw.

  Blood gushed out of Zero’s open mouth, the blade piercing his skull. Shaun pulled the knife free, and chunks of gore splattered out of the wound. Zero staggered, his jaw hanging limply, his waxy face contorted in agony. The Adjuster fell backward, inky-black blood arcing through the air.

  For just a moment, for a single second, the world froze.

  Shaun sucked in a deep breath, almost unable to believe that he had won – that he had actually defeated Zero. No longer would his world have to fear the Adjusters, no longer would Timewalkers be hunted by the assassins.

  Zero’s body careened through the air, framed in a flash of lightning, a ribbon of blood curling away from his jaw.

  Then the moment passed, and the world collapsed.

  An explosion of light and energy tore out of Zero’s body, hurling Shaun across the rooftop – he tried to find purchase, but the concrete was slick, and he slid all the way to the edge of the roof, his body swinging out into empty air. At the last moment, he seized hold of a metal bracket by his fingertips.

  The storm shifted, strengthening, ripping the universe apart. A gaping hole tore itself through the fabric of spacetime. An empty void hung below Shaun, swallowing the grounds. Red lightning flashed from within the roiling depths. He let out a pained yell as his arms burned, threatening to pull out of their sockets. Lightning flashed beneath him, above him, red meeting blue in a cacophonous explosion, the universe shuddering and groaning.

  Shaun’s fingers let go—

  —and then he jerked to a stop, a strong hand gripping his wrist.

  “COME ON!” Miller roared, his words a mere whisper to the noise of the storm. He hung his head over the side of the building. He was bloodied and bruised, and his long hair had come loose. “Give me your other hand!”

  Shaun hung by one arm, his entire body suspended by Miller’s strength alone.

  “I can’t!” he shouted, struggling to swing his other arm up. He dipped into his Regenerative powers, trying to augment his own strength.

  “GRAB ON!” Miller roared, reaching with his other hand. “Take my hand! COME ON!”

  Shaun’s hand was slipping, slick with blood, sweat and rain. He looked past Miller and saw a flicker of movement. He shouted, but his words were whipped away by the storm.

  Miller never heard Shaun’s warning.

  He never heard the explosion from Carl Tallon’s handgun.

  Miller cried out, releasing Shaun, the force of the gunshot sending him over the side. Shaun screamed, partly for himself, partly for Miller, as they both tumbled through the air. Down they fell, down into the open wormhole between universes, through the swirling mass of clouds, red lightning exploding alongside them.


  The last thing Shaun remembered was plunging into water, and seeing Miller’s body suspended above him, framed against a foreign sky.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THE ATTACK

  A war is coming, Cassie. A war between two universes. Only one can survive.

  The First Timewalker’s ominous warning echoed in her mind as she left Commander Boreman’s office.

  I don’t want to fight a war. I want to go home.

  But if helping the Resistance was her ticket back to reality, back to her father and a world that wasn’t buried in ash, then she would gladly wear a red armband and count the days until she could return home.

  Reese and Alanna loitered halfway down the corridor, their heads together and their conversation quiet. They stopped abruptly when Cassie approached. Reese folded his arms, revealing the considerable number of tattoos across his forearms. Latin phrases encircled intricate pictures that seemed to shift of their own accord the longer Cassie looked at them.

  “So, you joining the crew?” Reese asked, his tone cocky and arrogant.

  “I’m helping the Resistance, yes,” Cassie said tersely. “From what I hear, you’re lucky to have me.”

  “Oh yes,” he drawled. “We’re so blessed to have a Timewalker join us. Forgive me if I don’t kiss the ground at your feet.”

  “Reese!” Alanna barked, glaring at him. “That’s enough!”

  “I’m just saying,” Reese said, holding his hands up. “You’re not the first Timewalker to come through the Resistance, thinking you’re a god. We’ve got too many lives depending on us to worry about fluffing your ego.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassie snapped, “I think your ego is big enough for the both of us.”

  She tensed, awaiting a verbal tirade. Alanna gasped, the color draining from her face.

  Reese stared hard at Cassie, his expression unreadable.

  Then he burst out laughing and punched her in the shoulder, light enough to be playful, firm enough to show his strength.