The Temporal

by CJ Martín

  Sam waited and looked for Suteko’s appearance. Every day, the old man assured him she was coming. Every day, she failed to appear.

  But Sam learned to listen. The old man would tell him to breathe slowly and listen between breaths. Listen for the Echoes of Eternity. As the days came and went, Sam’s ears grew sharper; his control became stronger and more accurate. One day, he realized he could tune his ears to have the echoes sound on command. The old man was ecstatic with glee saying he had never heard of a young Temporal who had progressed so far, so quickly.

  But this brought Sam no satisfaction. The one voice he yearned to hear was silent. He could not hear her.

  Chapter 21

  NEW YORK CITY

  Agent Cobbs had names. Sam Williams was the guy who got away but didn’t disappear. Yoko Aoki was the woman who got away by disappearing. This was undoubtedly an alias. Her American passport was a fake—hence the reason for pulling her aside at customs.

  But Cobbs knew Sam Williams was a real name.

  The man had used his credit card—a card that had a ten year history—to get to New York City. More importantly, Williams had used that same card to get a taxi to his destination. After tracking down the cab driver, Cobbs knew which building the man had entered into a few days before. The delays in attaining a warrant had irritated Cobbs to no end. He knew if he had received it when he asked for it, the two—or at least Williams—would already be in his custody.

  Now, however, any activity on William’s card went straight to Cobbs.

  While waiting for the warrant, he had two plainclothes NYPD officers staked out across the street watching everyone who came in and out of that building. He figured even if the man wasn’t there, it was possible that the woman still might come.

  Meanwhile, Cobbs spent his time at the library or scouring the internet for anything that could explain what he saw on that video feed from New Orleans.

  The closest thing he found was a website that reportedly taught the ancient Egyptian art of invisibility. One, it claimed, could will oneself invisible. All the website required to unlock the mystery was a $49 charge to a credit card.

  As before, Sam was told to hide in the back closet. Someone was knocking at the old man’s apartment door.

  The other two times took less than a minute before the old man came to get him. This time, it was taking longer. Sam heard noises made indistinct and muffled by the many coats around him. He strained his ear to the wall that separated him from the rest of the apartment, but he couldn’t make out anything. Minutes passed. A distinct fear began to creep within Sam.

  He heard a scream—or something like a scream from the other room.

  The old man was in trouble.

  Sam made the decision to help RJ. The old man had, after all, saved his life. Rushing out, Sam no longer tried to keep quiet but hoped his loud footsteps would be enough to scare the attacker away. It could be a young Nephloc. Young Nephloc, he had been told, were easily frightened. He pulled out the lighter that he had kept religiously in his right pocket and readied himself.

  Flinging the door to the front room open, Sam nearly tripped over himself. It was not an attacker. The sounds he had heard were not screams at all. They were sounds of merriment and great relief.

  Suteko was back.

  “Oh, Sam,” she said rushing from the old man’s arms and into Sam’s. “I so desperately wanted to see you these past few days.”

  “You, you’re alive!”

  “Of course. Didn’t Marcus tell you I was coming?” She gave the old man a mildly reprimanding look. The old man held up his hands as if he was blameless in the matter.

  “Marcus? Well, RJ here told me you were coming but he gave me no reason why he knew that. Did you call him to tell him you were on your way?” Sam realized he hadn’t seen a phone, cell phone, or any communication device—not even a computer. It seemed the highest technology around was the bound book.

  “Marcus is the most experienced of us. He has a closer relationship with eternity than I or anyone else I know. Sometimes it causes him to forget social etiquette within time and this mundane world,” Suteko said, stepping back to give Marcus a loving pat on the back.

  “Why did it take you so long?” asked Sam.

  “I couldn’t have gone with you. I left you a note—did you not get it?”

  “A note? Oh, I thought... I thought you had placed that in my pocket while I was sleeping on the plane—before we landed.”

  “I am sorry. I could have explained more, but I did not want to do anything that could have endangered you. Being seen with me before the incident was dangerous enough. And I couldn’t have joined you on the plane to Manhattan.”

  She pulled the two men in closer, forming a triangular huddle. “Sam, I found the building, the one with the bomb.”

  “Did you disarm the bomb, child?” asked Marcus.

  “There was nothing there. The explosion we saw in our visions is yet to come. I waited a few days to see if the place was being watched, but I saw nothing unusual.”

  “I wish I could have been with you,” Sam said, feeling his emotions building within.

  She took Sam’s hand, causing every ounce of fear and uncertainty to disappear. He marveled how her touch always seemed to immediately dispel stress and pain. No one else had ever had that effect on him.

  “You needed to spend time with Marcus. He is an excellent teacher. I can see already that you have learned control. I didn’t mean to stay away so long, but I decided to hitch-hike most of the way—just to be safe. I had very little cash and the last safe credit card I had, I had already used once in Japan. It was too risky to use a quicker mode of transportation.”

  “My dear children,” Marcus said with a suddenly pale face. “I am sorry to interrupt... But you must leave. You must leave now.” Marcus’ voice wavered as he warned them of the echoes he had just heard.

  “What is it Marcus?” Suteko asked sensing the urgency in his face and cracking voice.

  “An Agent Cobbs is searching for you. If you are to stop the bomb, you must make sure he doesn’t find you here. Later, yes, but not here, not now.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Near. He has two policemen waiting for you downstairs. Undoubtedly they reported Suteko’s arrival. Quick, to the fire escape.”

  Suteko followed Sam as he lifted the window open and began to climb out onto the outside open steel grating. Sam hesitated. They were only on the second floor, but it seemed much higher from the window than it had from the ground.

  There were knocks on Marcus’ door.

  “Hurry!”

  Sam swallowed his fear and rushed outside and then down to the second floor platform followed closely by Suteko. Sam grabbed either side of the metal and began to slide the lowest level ladder on its track, falling down with it.

  “Stop! You are under arrest!”

  Sam saw a police officer running into view just under the ladder. Without much thought, Sam grabbed the railing and kicked his legs out to his right while holding onto the falling ladder with his hands. His legs swung into the police officer, knocking the officer to the ground. His head bounced on asphalt and made a horribly loud cracking noise.

  Sam, now also on the ground, paused when he saw the officer was not getting up. Suteko was at the officer’s side before Sam could blink. Her hand was spread wide, covering the man’s face.

  “He will be okay. Let’s go.”

  Sam paused before following Suteko’s lead. He looked back at the unconscious officer.

  “Sorry!” Sam said and then rushed to catch up with Suteko.

  Chapter 22

  TO NEW ORLEANS

  Paid for with a prepaid Visa from Marcus, Suteko and Sam left on an Amtrak from Penn Station directly to New Orleans. It was a thirty hour trip, but Sam was amazed that he only needed a few hours of sleep.

  The train ride was enjoyable despite the recent traumatic events and the nightmare that Sam knew awaited them at their destinat
ion. Even after the long trip, he stepped off the train feeling energized. Suteko was back—and physically, he was at the top of his game.

  They began walking toward the taxi area as curiosity got the better of Sam. “Suteko, do you know how many of the Temporal there are?”

  She shook her head indicating the negative. “I’ve, of course, met a number of us, maybe a dozen or so, but as for the exact number, I think only the old man knows.”

  “You’ve never asked him?”

  “No. I’ve never thought it necessary. The less we all know about each other the better. Of course, I enjoy meeting others—as I did you—but it is safer for us to be spread out.”

  “Safer? What do you mean?” Sam had a worried look that directly mirrored his inner feelings.

  “You do remember the dark creatures that attacked you in Japan, don’t you?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Did you ask Marcus about them?”

  “He called them the Nephloc.”

  “Nephloc.” Her face flashed with recognition.

  “You know what they are?”

  “I’ve only heard stories. I wasn’t even sure they existed. But yes, I know of them.” She stopped walking as if to organize her thoughts before speaking, “That would explain the complexity of what we are up against. Sam,” she said, turning her full attention to him, “We will find and stop that bomb in New Orleans, but we must keep a sharp eye out for any danger. You must stay close to me.”

  “I will. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have no intention of leaving your side.”

  She smiled, took his hand, and began walking again. “The cab area should be just over there.”

  Minutes later, Sam and Suteko were in a taxi and zooming toward their destination. Approaching the area, both Suteko and Sam were captivated by the scenery. They felt a familiarity and closeness to a place that neither of them had ever stepped foot in. Sam was with the woman of his dreams in a place he’d had nightmares about. It was a strange feeling, a mixture of completed joy with a dangerous puzzle yet to be solved.

  “That’ll be nine twenty,” said the cab driver to Sam as Suteko busily gathered her thoughts and continued to gaze at the strange scenery that was so familiar.

  Suteko was still staring out of her window when she realized the driver was swiping Sam’s credit card.

  “No!”

  Suteko’s shout startled both the driver and Sam.

  “Not by credit card.”

  “Sorry, Ma’am, but it already went through.”

  Sam looked at her and suddenly realized how Agent Cobbs was able to find them in New York. He had used a credit card to get to LaGuardia and then for a cab to the old man’s place.

  “My card... I’m sorry, Suteko. So sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll pay next time,” she said with a smile mostly for the benefit of the driver. “Let’s get out and take a walk.”

  Once the taxi left, Sam said, “I didn’t think. I can’t believe how stupid I am. I forgot that credit card transactions leave a record.” Sam hung his head in defeat. “I wouldn’t make much of a spy, would I?”

  “Come on. Let’s just find the bomb and get out of here. The building is just up ahead.”

  Sam’s eyes focused on the surroundings. As sorry as he had been for potentially leading Agent Cobbs to them, the scenery’s familiarity overtook him. He lost any memory of his potentially dangerous mistake. It was like reliving the dream, the nightmare. He mentally replayed the events and began walking toward the building from which he knew at some point, people would drop down dead.

  Sam had them cross the street. He wanted to get closer to the exact position he was at in the dream. Eventually, they found the spot from which they had witnessed the explosion in the dream. It startled Sam and Suteko that both of their perspectives had been from the same vantage point—only two feet apart.

  Suteko held her hand out and prevented him from walking farther. “Shh... Listen. Close your eyes. Let’s stop a moment here and listen to the echoes.”

  Suteko and Sam spent the next few minutes standing still, listening. People passed by making comments at the odd couple, but their words went unnoticed by the two.

  Sam felt a breeze but not from the wind. His body was moving swiftly but his feet were stationary. It seemed there were a multitude of vehicles with sirens approaching and then receding from all directions. He heard the Doppler effect of a beautiful arrangement of frequencies coming and going all around.

  Then it all stopped.

  Suteko was in front of him pointing to some distant object. It was a puff of smoke. It poured out from a door, from some old building ahead—it was the building they had seen in that old Japanese book.

  “Do you see it?”

  “Yes, Suteko.”

  Immediately, they were back in the present.

  “Hurry. It will happen very soon.”

  She took his hand and they began to run toward the building that would—at some point in the near future—spew out deadly smoke.

  “Are you ready?” Suteko said, stopping short of the building.

  “No, I’ll never be ready, but let’s do it.”

  The old Anderson theater building had been converted into a multi-office complex. It was a Sunday and the offices were closed, but the building itself was left open daily from eight in the morning to ten at night. They entered the public area and, remembering their dreams, they realized the bomb would be detonated from there—it would be, at some point in the future.

  No one was around and the two spent the next fifteen minutes searching. There was a large metal desk against a wall that could hide a suitcase bomb, but a quick search revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The only other possible place for the bomb was behind and under a large stairwell. Above, there were three closed doors on the second floor. There were paintings on the walls and two potted plants near the entrance, but no other obvious place that could hide something larger than a mouse. Nothing had changed since Suteko had seen it days earlier. There was no bomb.

  They tried the three office doors but the doors were all locked.

  Should we break in?” Sam asked, hoping she would answer in the negative. Just the thought of an unlawful breaking and entering a month ago would have been absolutely absurd. Now, however, Sam would do anything to stop the bomb from going off.

  “No, I think the explosion will originate from this open room. Probably under the desk. I remember seeing a flash of fire and then smoke in the dream. We wouldn’t see that from any of the adjoining rooms.”

  “Then, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said while pushing the door open to walk outside.

  “You aren’t supposed to say that—you are supposed to know everything.”

  She turned to look him in the eye. “No, Sam. I know very little. I’m just like you even if I have more experience.”

  “What if the Nephloc win? What would happen?”

  She smiled in a way that provided little comfort to Sam. “Remember, we were given this gift and this vision to stop these senseless deaths from occurring. And if that isn’t comforting enough, just know that, ultimately, they can’t win the war.”

  “Yeah, that’s what RJ—Marcus believes. But can they win the battle?”

  “Yes,” Suteko sighed, “they can win the battle.”

  She pointed across the street at a cafe. “For now, let’s wait there. We can rest and keep an eye on the target.”

  They settled into a padded, but still somehow uncomfortable, chair. With their coffees and beignets in hand, both sets of eyes kept watch. Traffic was heavy, people were taking Sunday strolls on the sidewalks.

  It seemed so normal, so peaceful, as mid-day turned to late afternoon. They had spent three hours watching from the cafe, walking up and down the block, and standing in front of a street-performer with a saxophone.

  “What are we looking for?” Sam asked.

  “Actually, you have more experience wi
th Nephloc than I do. Perhaps you can tell me? I was a good distance when I scared those Nephloc away in front of the hospital that night. I only saw black shapes. At the time, I had no clue what they were.”

  “Neither did I. Black shapes... That is probably the best way to describe them. They wore dark clothes—heavy clothes even in the heat. Marcus said they are highly sensitive to light. I suppose the clothes are to protect their skin from any light.”

  “Did Marcus say anything more about them?”

  “Suteko, I was attacked by one of their leaders, a woman.”

  “A woman?”

  “Bright red hair, she looks to be no older than you appear, but I assume that too is an illusion.”

  “Red hair... So you saw her face?”

  “I saw her faces.”

  Suteko just looked at Sam and waited for him to elaborate.

  “She can change her appearance, Suteko. She approached me pretending to be Marcus. When I resisted, she changed into her—what I think is her natural or at least default appearance. Marcus said she was very dangerous, much more so than the regular Nephloc.”

  “This just doesn’t happen, Sam. I’ve heard stories, but in those stories the Nephloc are timid creatures who only attack the weak and helpless. They don’t risk discovery unless there is something they really, really want.”

  Sam nodded but said nothing more.

  The two waited one more hour sipping coffee and trying to appear as if they were two lovers waiting out the heat of the day.

  “Let’s find a hotel,” Suteko said, seeing a heavy sleepy look cover Sam’s face. “I can’t be sure, but the timing in the dream seemed to be mid-day. Plus, the manager will lock the building soon, and we will draw suspicion if we loiter here too long.”

  “Yes, but it is strange they would choose mid-day since the Nephloc are creatures of the night.”