He picked up his identification, digitally changed the information, and pushed it into his front pocket. He grabbed two sets of glasses and slid them into the other pocket in case they would be needed. Marcus was always over prepared. He grabbed his weapon and holstered it. It looked like it came from the era, but this weapon didn’t have the same type of bullets. They started out in liquid form. When the bullets entered the chamber, they would solidify and could be taken out if needed at that point. When in bullet form, they were smooth with no markings. Once they were discharged, a mark would appear signaling which weapon fired it.
He walked over to the bed-side table and pulled the drawer open. He pulled out two bullet refills and inserted them into the belt next to the weapon. He pulled the fabric of his jacket out to cover it and buttoned the top button. He snatched a small, long black flashlight and slid it into his pocket. He was now ready for work. “Lights out, blinds down,” he said as he made his way to the front door.
Marcus closed the door behind him. “Lock door,” he said, as he listened for the click. He followed the balcony around the corner, where a docking pad was attached to the building. It was the only way on or off. There was a chair bolted to the landing pad, so he’d have a place to sit. All docking pads had one, and they all had a simple design. He never used it but, on this morning, he decided to. Ryan always made him upset and sitting down helped calm him.
The taxi arrived on time, which was unusual this time of year with everyone shopping. Summers were always like that. The vehicle had no wheel’s underneath; they had no reason to have them since they never touched the ground. They only hovered a few inches above it. The driver dressed in an all-white get-up with a white head dress covering most of his head. His black hair peeked through the bottom that touched the collar of his shirt. He spoke in perfect English, but he had an accent revealing that he had come from a different country. “Good morning to you, sir.”
“Morning. I’m heading to dock 5,” Marcus told the man.
“Yes, I was already instructed where to drop you off. Do you need to stop anywhere else, sir?”
“Nope.” Marcus closed his door and waited for the man to fly off. “Did I forget something?”
“You’re going to dock 5, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Why?” Marcus was confused, since the man already knew where he was going.
“Do you have luggage?”
“I’m not planning on being there long enough to use any.”
“All right.” The taxi floated to the side to get clearance. The man checked to make sure others weren’t using the same air space as he descended five feet before flying off.
It was a beautiful day without the shimmer of the neighboring floating apartments. Marcus sat back and relaxed as he waited to arrive at the dock. The seats were made of imitation leather, because real leather was illegal, and they were quite comfortable. The soft seats allowed a person to sink in just enough.
The taxi flew by a floating sign welcoming tourists to Fort Lane, where he lived. It had become a popular place to visit because parts of the city were still on the ground. An old fort had been rebuilt over the years and many tourists visited the place as a reminder of how the city was hundreds of years before. Marcus enjoyed visiting those years.
As the taxi flew across town, Marcus began to visit his memories regarding Ryan. He blankly looked out of the window as the memories came and went. Some of them were great, and recalling their childhood together was worth the visit. He smiled at the memory as it began to shift into something darker. Three days before his wedding day, Marcus overheard a conversation between his bride and her best friend. He acted like he hadn’t heard anything, but his heart broke into two when his fiancé said that she had slept with Ryan. He confronted Ryan. He wouldn’t deny or confirm her allegations. Marcus couldn’t live with a woman who had done such a thing, so he called off the wedding and stopped seeing Sara. He hadn’t spoken to Ryan since that day, either. Sure, Ryan tried, but Marcus wouldn’t have it. He felt like he had wasted the last five years believing Sara was a good woman. He threw himself into his work, becoming one of the top agents in the bureau.
The taxi arrived at Dock 3, which was where the entrance was. The driver lowered to the ground and parked just a few feet from the docking area. Marcus slid out of his seat and slipped his wallet out. A metal box with a slot on the side automatically lowered from an opening in the door so Marcus pushed his plastic card through the slot. He hit a few numbers, approved the amount, and added a tip. “Thank you,” he told the man.
The man looked at the amount that appeared on his dash and smiled. “Thank you, many moons and stars,” he said. The man bowed his head and began praying over his tip. He pulled out and returned to the air as Marcus strolled to the gates where he would sign in for his time chamber. As his hard soles hit the sidewalk, he could hear the steps. Mechanical birds could be heard in nearby trees chirping. Real birds were long gone now. Iron gates surrounded the docking bay. The entrance was massive. The buildings used were an old train station at one time, but the tracks were removed when the last train was dismantled. The bricks that held up the structure were a mix of red, tan, and all the colors between. It had a mosaic feel to it. There were several buildings within the gates.
Marcus approached the centered building with a long counter in the front. It had a large window with a couple holes carved out of it for speaking and passing currency. Paper bills were no longer used so a device next to the window was added in to accept payments. The bureau paid his way so there was no need for him to use it. He checked in, saying his name and ID number.
“Morning, Marcus. You know the routine,” a man with red curly hair, pimples on his face, said. His voice cracked as he spoke as if his voice was going through the changes from boy to man. He was in his late twenties so he should have already gone through that change.
“Yep, I sure do.” Marcus entered the building through a door next to the window and walked over to the counter. The assorted bricks outside were also seen on the inside of the old building. The counter was white, long, open, and had several working stations to keep the crowd small. He approached the first available employee and answered the time travel questions. The woman asking the normal questions was short; dark skinned and had a high pitch voice. She spoke loudly as if she were afraid, he couldn’t hear her.
“WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU TRAVELED?”
“Yesterday.”
“BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?”
“Business.”
“HAVE YOU BEEN EXPOSED TO ANY DISEASES OR ILLNESSES IN THE LAST 30 DAYS?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he told her as he looked at a man who just entered the area. He recognized him, but he wasn’t sure from where.
“HAVE YOU RECEIVED YOUR TRAVEL SHOT?”
“No, I haven’t but I will be getting one this morning.”
“THAT’S GOOD. FOLLOW ME, SIR.”
Marcus followed the woman as he watched the man approach the counter and speak to another docking employee. The man was slightly older than Marcus. He had black hair, which was receding on the top sides, leaving the middle forming a letter “u”. He wore glasses with a dark frame. He had this intelligence appearance to him, so he assumed he was as smart as he looked. Marcus was usually right about those things. The man smiled, but it looked forced, like he didn’t enjoy being around people.
“WAIT HERE AND THE NURSE WILL GIVE YOU YOUR SHOT. YOU MAY PICK UP YOUR PAPERWORK ONCE YOU LEAVE HERE. HAVE A NICE DAY!” The woman smiled and walked away.
Marcus sat down next to another agent in a strange uniform. Marcus began to think of the westerns he used to watch with his father. The hat on the man’s head was tilted to the side, his bandana hung loose on his neck, and the weapon was carried on a leather belt that hung freely on his hip. Marcus nodded at the man, and he nodded back with a smile. “You workin?” He had a southern drawl in his voice, which sounded surreal since people hadn’t spoken like that in years.
“Yep. You?”
“Sure am. Got a nasty fugitive runnin wild in the 1800s. Thinks he’s Wild Bill.” The man laughed.
“Good luck with that,” Marcus said.
“Sure, thanks. What about you?” the man asked.
“Got a quick pick-up and bring in. The suspect is thought to have murdered a woman several times.”
“Oh, yeah? I heard of that case. I hope you catch him. These time quakes are gettin bad.”
Marcus remembered seeing the case on the news once, but he didn’t listen to the whole report since it wasn’t a case he’d be working on. He already knew some of the information, though. “Yep, me too.”
“Agent one-two-four dash one-five?” a voice asked.
Marcus looked up. “That’s me. Nice talking to you, buddy.” He stood up.
“Best obliged.”
Marcus followed the woman into the next room, where she gave him a shot. The serum would protect him against the viruses and diseases that would be going around in the past. All he had to do was let them know which time he was visiting, and she picked the one that was appropriate. She signed the papers, giving him the clearance to travel, and Marcus was on his way. He stepped outside to head towards the docking Bay he was assigned to.
Marcus headed to dock 5, passing 3 docks. Only 2 travel chambers were assigned to each dock at a time, so the areas weren’t that big, but they were large enough to house 3 chambers at any given time. The docking bay looked a lot like sea docking bays, only without the water. Even though he was outside, he was still inside the iron gates. A metal roof covered the area, and there were several smaller buildings between the docking stations. The buildings had restrooms and small shops. The floor was made of concrete. Marcus turned onto the dock where his machine was waiting for him. s time chamber was already there. He stopped at a small metal desk, handed the man his medical paper and waited for his order papers.
To Marcus, this man had a normal voice. Not too deep, not too high pitched. He was the same build as Marcus, almost the same height at 6 foot 3, and had dark brown hair. He knew the man from the gym. “Good morning, Marcus,” the man said.
“Morning, Ted.”
“Looks like you’ll be using the first chamber. It was serviced early this morning. Here are your papers, giving you permission to travel this morning. Captain Smitty suggests you get back in three days before the riots begin.”
“I plan on being back long before that happens. The last time I was there, I witnessed those riots. Was not planning on seeing them again.”
“I hear you. I read about them and from what I heard; they were pretty bad.”
“They were much worse in person. Believe me.”
“All right, I’ll take your word on it. You’re cleared. See you when you get back.”
Marcus signed the papers and headed to the machine that would take him back in time. He entered, closed the door, making sure it was secure. He placed the file in a compartment next to the control station and inched towards the chair. He sat down at the control panel and pulled the seat belt over his chest and lap. He began the necessary maneuvers to flash through time. First, he had to set the date he was visiting. Then, the location. Once everything was set, he pushed the go button. It was a large green button that said go on it, so it was easy to figure out, even for a child. In one moment, he was in the year 2244, next 2028. The chamber itself, with him in it vanished, pushing him through the stream of time and appeared where it was meant to go.
There was a private landing strip that was owned by the bureau. He knew the agency had joined forces around the world and when time travel began, they sent out officers to buy up properties to use throughout time. It was part of his courses to become an agent. Days of having state, city, and county police were no more in his time. But they still existed in 2028 so he had to dress and look the part in order to blend in.
Marcus shut the time chamber down, making sure everything was off. He locked it up as he did every time he jumped through time. He walked through the dirt covered yard and entered the back entrance of a building that had once been a factory. The building itself surrounded the yard, making it the private location needed to keep time travel a secret. From the yard, the building was unkempt, so the plaster and bricks were crumbling in areas. From the outside, the building appeared used, and the bricks were cared for. The original sign for the company who owned it before the bureau remained where it had been placed for history purposes.
Once inside, Marcus strolled to the wooden desk and handed his paperwork to the man, giving the reason for his arrival. The man behind the desk looked things over and gave his nod, allowing Marcus to enter the city. Once he walked out through the front door, he would be on his own, using his training.
Marcus caught a taxi and headed to the address where Ryan was last seen. It was on Superior Street, just down from a park. When he arrived, he paid the driver cash from the era, and proceeded to the front door. He remained alert, keeping an eye on the neighbors. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him. Once he reached the front door, Marcus looked through the window. He couldn’t see anyone, so he moved to the back, checking the windows along the way. When he saw the body and Ryan, Marcus found an open window and crawled inside. Again, he checked the neighbors, but no one was in his line of sight. He moved slowly, picking up his feet and lowering them back to the floor softly. As he closed the window, he slid it back into place using several movements as he checked his surrounding area, including the room behind him. The living room was small.
“What the Hell can you tell me that I don’t already know?” Marcus heard a voice ask. It belonged to Ryan. He was talking to himself again.
He pulled his weapon out and held it ready to fire just in case. It was part of his training, but he knew Ryan wouldn’t fire on him. “Wouldn’t it be easier if she was still alive?” he asked Ryan.
Ryan jumped and turned around. “Figures they’d send you. I didn’t kill her, Marcus.”
“I didn’t say you did but I still need to bring you in,” he said as he pointed his weapon down towards the laminate tiled floor.
“You don’t have to say it. I can see it on your face. I need to find out who did this and clear my name. Why can’t you just go back and tell them you couldn’t find me.” Ryan bent down and studied the body. It was like he was putting the puzzle pieces together and one piece was still missing. Marcus wasn’t sure what he’d find just crouching over her body like that.
“How long has this one been gone?” Marcus asked.
“The records said she died at 9 AM.” He checked his watch; it was just after 11. “I’ve been here for an hour, searching for answers.”
“And no signs of a break-in or struggle, I see,” Marcus said as he peered around the room. “She either let the suspect in or she knew the guy.”
“That’s what I was thinking but you can never be too sure these days.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Nothing. I’ll help you take the body in but I’m not coming back with you, Marcus. You know that, right?”
“I know no such thing. Ryan, if you don’t come in you will look more guilty than you already do. Just come with me and we’ll get this settled. If you want to investigate it on your own after that, you’re welcome to. Just let me do my job.”
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you.” Ryan spun around as he stood up. He glanced the room over and sat down. “I’ve gone through this room so many times with each murder; you’d think I’d know what to look for. It seems to be the same every time—one clear shot in the forehead and done. She didn’t even see it coming.”
“How many times have you been here, Ryan?”
“I’ve lost count.” Ryan looked at the ceiling in heavy thought as he tried to think of how many times Billie Reynolds had been killed in this room. The killer hadn’t changed a single thing. It was like practice or something. “I seriously don’t know but it’s been a lot.”
Marc
us had originally heard about the case from several different people, and no one seemed to know the answers. All anyone knew was that this young woman had been killed by someone repeatedly over the years. If the same person had done all those killings, they would have some anger issues. That much was what Marcus knew. It wasn’t his case, so he wasn’t going to investigate. Bring Ryan in—that was all he was told to do, and he was going to make sure it was done. “And you know how bad that makes you look, right?”
“Damn it, Marcus, you don’t think I already know that? I’m being accused of something I didn’t do. And the fact that my own weapon was used—that’s what I don’t get. How the Hell did someone get my piece to work?”
“I couldn’t tell you. You know I’m not an expert on that stuff. Come on, the faster you turn yourself in, the quicker you can be released. I’ll tell the captain you came willingly. It’ll look good on your record.”
“Yeah, like they’d believe you on that one.” He looked at Marcus’s weapon. “Were you really going to use that on me?”
“If I had to, you know I would.”
“All right, fine. If this doesn’t work out, I’m going to bury you, Marcus.”
“Yeah, yeah; I’ve heard that before. Come on.”
Chapter Four
Marcus and Ryan boarded the time chamber without speaking to each other. He pointed at the chair used for suspects, and Ryan sat down while he was still handcuffed. It was as if he was going to cooperate without a fight, which did surprise Marcus a little.
Marcus strolled to the table, which had lifted from a compartment from the floor. He lifted his wrist, pressed a button on his watch, and the body appeared. He began to wrap her for transport as he kept an eye on Ryan.
The special blend of plastics that were used to wrap the body, would protect it against decay during the transport. After twelve hours, the plastic would evaporate, leaving the body perfectly preserved as if it were frozen. The difference was the body temperature. In the lab, they would be able to learn more about the victim and how she died. Of course, in this case, it was obviously, a gunshot to the chest. But only a coroner could make that call officially.
Murder Through Time (World Bureau Legacy Book 1) Page 2