The two voices approached his room without pause. A key rattled in the door and then it opened. The thug came in first, followed by another man. In looking him over, Jeremy decided he wasn’t a fearful sight- until he looked into the man’s eyes. The fellow stood about five feet five, had wispy brown hair, a thin frame encased in the sort of outfit a businessman would wear, and pale blue orbs with very little lid or eyelash to dispel the staring quality of impatience that permeated his expression. He had the sort of face that was etched in coldness- as if it would be impossible to imagine him ever laughing.
“So this is the man you’ve dragged me out of my office to see?” he complained to the thug. “The other accountants in my firm already wonder if I deserve my position as a new partner and now you’ve got me leaving just at the close of business hours, and for what; to question this person? He doesn’t look like anyone to waste our time over.”
“Nevertheless he knew right where our crop was located,” the thug answered. “He had two or three others with him. He might reveal our plans.”
“He can’t reveal anything if he doesn’t know anything.”
“Serrin, he knew where the crop was located,” The thug repeated. “He might know more.”
The other man sighed and looked bored.
“Oh, all right then. Question him.”
The thug approached Jeremy with a grin on his face and his punching fingers curled into a fist. The first strike felt like it almost broke his cheekbone, but at least it also caused the thug to have to shake out his hand and grimace at his own pain, which was reddening his knuckles.
“Idiot,” muttered the accountant. “Let me.”
The accountant’s slap splashed across Jeremy’s jaw like water, but it stung in a shudder for after effect.
“So, what were you doing in our field?” the accountant asked.
Jeremy didn’t answer. The thug pushed back into place and the accountant let him. This time Jeremy was backhanded, giving his other cheek attention.
“What were you doing in the field?” the fellow cried. Jeremy blinked up at him. The man was getting worked up. He thought he was enjoying this.
“You may as well tell us what we want to know,” the accountant said.
Jeremy realized something about the man’s voice. He’d heard it before in the first vision he’d had about the field. This was the man that’d contracted to rent the field from its owner in the past. He thought about if talking now would help him. What was a Time Mechanic supposed to do in this situation?
“I never speak to people when I’ve not been introduced,” he said after a moment. “Did I hear this idiot you’ve got punching me call you by the name Serrin?”
The accountant’s slap splashed across his face again.
“Knowing my name won’t matter to you when you’re dead,” the fellow said.
“If you’re going to kill me anyway I fail to see why I should tell you anything.”
“The moments in life are like currency. You must decide how miserable you want your final moments to be.”
Jeremy swallowed down terror at the cold tone in the man’s voice.
“I was just having a look at that field,” he muttered. “You don’t need to kill me, since I don’t know anything about you.”
“Where are the other men who were with you?”
“I don’t know.”
This time the thug’s punch was delivered with so much force against his temple and his left eye it made him dizzy. His head flew to the side and then he was suddenly taken over with a vision. He froze in the chair as his sight clouded over.
In the vision he was walking down the streets of Tonturin. He came to a sturdy brick building, which housed a team of lawyers and other businesses. Up the inner staircase he walked, around and around until he reached the top floor. Again the effect of the vision was that he seemed to travel the distance to the top in just a few steps. There was a ladder against the wall on the top floor which led to a small landing. There was then an outer door and when it was opened he found he was on the roof of one of the tallest buildings of Tonturin. On the far side of the roof, just as it began to slope downward, Jeremy saw a place in the roof shingles that appeared to be a slightly different color. A hand reached forward and slid under three of the tiles, the fingers fiddling until he heard a small click. Then the tiles lifted up in a panel. Inside was built a metal box protected from the elements. The hand opened the box and put a roll of papers inside. The vision faded as the metal box was closed and the panel on the roof shingles was shut back into place.
Jeremy’s head was bowed as he came out of it. Hearing the two voices speaking about him he kept his eyes closed.
“I don’t have time to wait all day, you know,” said Serrin.
“I didn’t hit the man that hard. He’ll wake up and then we can question him some more,” said the thug with eagerness.
“You can have your fun when the job’s done. In the meantime please refrain from knocking the man out again.”
“Do you think he knows about the second component?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“What about the parts to build the steam diffuser? Are you going to have them delivered?”
“I wouldn’t be so irresponsible. I’m leaving soon to pick them up myself.”
“Maybe I’ll be sent to Tetoross to go get them.”
“Of course not,” Serrin said in reply, “the boss wouldn’t entrust a job like that to someone like you.”
“Maybe the boss sees more in me than you do!”
“Not if he could see your stupidity today. I’m tired of wasting my time here. You’re unlikely to get any more information out of this man but if you do, take note of it. Then please, when you dispose of him, do it right. I don’t care to hear about his body bobbing around in the nearby river, polluting the water I drink.”
Jeremy couldn’t help but that he was breathing hard in dismay when he blinked open his eyes just in time to see Serrin exiting the room. But the Time Mechanic part of him noticed something before the thug’s vengeful face returned to fill his vision. The accountant had left the door unlocked.
Chapter Fourteen (In Which Jeremy is Given a Shove, a Turban, and Loyalty)
All of a sudden the skills that had deserted him before flared back into Jeremy’s mind. He shook his head, trying to process what he needed before he was attacked again. His first chore was to get out of that chair for he was helpless tied into a sitting position with his hands behind his back. He wrenched to the side and felt the chair give a bit more. The knowledge of how to break it was instantaneous, and he acted on it. He threw himself back and to the side. He lunged with all the strength in his shoulders as he landed on the weakened chair supports instead of his arm. The chair crunched, and the side legs broke inwards.
“Hey!” the thug yelled, ran over and, having nothing better to do with the pile of Jeremy and chair on the floor; kicked him. Jeremy sat up and wrenched his shoulders high from his hips. At last the middle spokes separated from the seat. He had to dislodge the spoke he was tied to from the knot. “I’ll kill you!” the thug shrieked, now wrapping his arm around Jeremy’s neck.
Jeremy’s fingers fumbled with the spoke, inching it down and out of the rope. He jerked his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to dislodge the fellow. His captor had a lot of strength in his arm as he squeezed. Jeremy could feel his eyes bulging; his brain pinched for lack of oxygen. At last the spoke slipped from the rope. He was able to get his hands untangled from his bonds. The rest of the chair back clattered to the floor. He reached up but he couldn’t get a hold of the thug’s head. The man was smart enough to see that his best option was to go on strangling him until the job was done.
“Unnh,” Jeremy groaned, feeling around on the floor. He was dizzy by the time he finally came up with the spoke he’d dislodged. He wasted no time.
Thwack! His hand flipped wildly until the spoke found a target. He hit the thug in the collarbone, and then on his jaw and
the third hit of the spoke rung off the side of the man’s head.
“Stop it!” the thug shrieked. His grip loosened while he tried to shake Jeremy off. Thump, the chair seat lifted and then fell as Jeremy tried to get away. Thump again, only this time the edge of the chair pinched the man’s leg as he knelt down beside his victim, and that with all Jeremy’s weight attached to the chair seat. That would be a good sized bruise tomorrow, Jeremy thought. The man roared and jerked away again in response. One more thwack. His head was released from the crook of the thug’s arm. He could breathe again.
The thug jumped to his feet and backed up a step. It was a short respite. The fellow grinned. He pulled the knife he’d used earlier from a sheath attached to his belt. Jeremy wasn’t much of a match for him, he thought, with his legs folded awkwardly and his ankles still attached to the stubborn chair legs. He lifted his arms and brandished his wooden spoke.
“You don’t have to kill me!” Jeremy protested. “I don’t know who you are or what you want to do with that hidden crop!”
The man swiped in his direction like a sword thrust. Jeremy parried.
“Maybe I don’t have to kill you,” the thug grunted in reply. “I just want to. I’m going to enjoy seeing you bleed!”
He swiped again and this time he connected the blade to Jeremy’s forearm.
“Ah!” Jeremy cried, yanking it away.
Fear began to settle in. At this rate he didn’t stand a chance. He fell back onto the wreckage of the chair, swinging his spoke like a wild man. The thug realized he might have to get hit to reach him and he accepted the fact. He breached Jeremy’s space, kicked at his chest until he was nearly flattened, and then lifted his blade high.
At that moment the door behind them burst open.
“Jeremy!” Mars cried. Seeing what was about to happen, Mars leapt forward with a roar. He crashed into the thug with all his might. The man had his arms raised, ready to stab. He flew into the wall, head first, and then fell over. Jeremy watched; panting. The white-haired fellow groaned and, seeing Mars come at him again from the corner of his eye, scrambled. He crawled away, slashing with backward swipes of his knife. The man got to his feet, threw the knife at Mars, shoved apart Kannikey and Ffip, and then ran out of the room and down the hallway. Jeremy could hear the distant outside door slam.
That fast the threat against him was gone and Jeremy lifted a shaking hand to cover his mouth. When he opened his eyes Kannikey was getting up from where the thug had tossed her down and Ffip was dropping to her knees at his side.
“Blast it, Jeremy!” Mars bellowed, before saying anything else.
“Are you all right?” Ffip said in a soft voice.
“His arm’s bleeding,” said Kannikey, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a dainty handkerchief. Jeremy took it and ruined it with the blood from his nose. “And his face is bleeding too,” she added. “He’s a mess!”
Jeremy laughed a bit in reaction. “Thanks,” he whispered.
“Ffip hand me the knife that wretch left behind,” said Mars. Jeremy watched as Ffip leaned over on her knees and grabbed the discarded knife. She handed it to Mars and he began cutting the ropes that bound Jeremy’s ankles. “He was about to kill you, Jeremy!” he protested.
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Don’t get sarcastic now! What in the world have you gotten yourself mixed up in?” Mars demanded.
“Just get us out of here, Mars, before that man returns or barring that, sets this building on fire with us inside.”
“Here, careful. Can you stand?”
Jeremy was hauled to his feet. The room spun around but he stumbled immediately for the door, only pausing to grab his coat from the corner. He had an irrational fear, leftover from earlier in the day that he’d never get out of this room. The others followed him and each seemed to be saying something but he desired escape above all else. He hurried the group of them out of the room, down the hallway, and finally outside into the alleyway. It was deserted.
“The carriage is this way,” said Kannikey.
Jeremy took off in the direction she’d pointed. What if those men were somehow watching them to see where they went? His blood was pounding weakness in his veins but he made it out of the alley. He saw the carriage parked in front of Nemeth’s shop.
“We should take him to the doctor,” Mars said.
Jeremy started shaking his head even as he climbed with a groan into the carriage and fell back onto the seat. He dropped the heavy coat onto the floor of the carriage. “Just take me home,” Jeremy managed. “There aren’t many residences down that road the manse in on; still if anyone’s watching us they won’t know which one I belong to.”
“You need the doctor,” Mars repeated, a stubborn tone to his voice.
“They might expect me to go there, don’t you think?” Jeremy demanded.
“’They’? I only saw one man attacking you.”
“He had a cohort— some sort of accountant. He told that wretch to question and then to kill me!”
Mars shook his head in refusal of the thought.
“He needs stitches,” put in Kannikey.
“Yes he does!” agreed Mars. “To the doctor then.”
“No!” yelled Jeremy. They all froze at his ferocity. He took a deep breath. “Listen,” he went on. “Whatever you three do now, I’m still the Time Mechanic. I’ve learned a few things today that I need to act on. If you want to follow me, then you must let me lead. If you don’t intend to stay by my side then, forgive my bluntness, but then you should go away and leave me to my own business. Do you understand? I’m not going to the doctor!”
“But your arm…” said Kannikey.
“I’ve got supplies at my room. I can stitch it myself. My Uncle Tov taught me how to mend a cow that’d cut her leg on a fence when I was a teenager.”
Ffip climbed into the carriage and sat beside him. She removed the turban cap and a lock of fair hair slipped down across her forehead. Her eyes sparkled at him in concern.
“I also know how to put in stitches,” she said. “I’ll do it for you.” She turned to the others. “I intend to stay by the Time Mechanic’s side,” she added, her voice direct. “I haven’t seen or heard anything today to make me change my mind. In fact, that danger has found Jeremy so quickly convinces me more.”
“Well isn’t that touching!” complained Kannikey. But at least she arranged herself on the carriage seat so she could drive them to Jeremy’s room. She untied the reins to Mars’ horse and handed them to him. “Let’s go and get the boss taken care of,” she said to him. “Then we can talk about how long we intend to let him be the boss,” she added.
Mars sighed and got into his saddle. Kannikey clicked up her horse and the carriage pulled out onto the street.
“Keep an eye out,” Jeremy said to Mars, leaning forward to speak to him. “Make sure we’re not being followed.” Then he sat back onto the seat and tried not to shiver. Ffip did something that surprised him very much. She undid the knot that held her turban cap to its shape. Then she took the long strip of material, pushed his sleeve up, and wrapped it around his arm. His eyes flew to hers.
“I gave away the rest of my contraptions today,” she murmured. “I let go my territory around Tonturin to a boy that often follows me. I’ve no need to wear this hat, or pretend I’m a man anymore.” She cinched the wrap tight enough to stop any leftover bleeding of his wound but not so tight as to hurt him. She tied it and then sat back and watched the road like Mars was doing. The road towards the manse had a few twists and turns and Jeremy relaxed a bit as they disappeared down it. Even if the thug saw which road they traveled down, he wouldn’t know which house they stopped in. At least for tonight. With some questioning tomorrow he could probably find out where Jeremy, Nemeth’s former shop assistant, lived. They were a silent group as they traveled back to his room. The darkness fell just as they pulled up into his yard and settled their horses.
“Here,” said Kannikey, leaning down to
reach something under her seat. “I brought you a gift to serve with your dinner.” She held up a large bottle of the finest wine made in Tonturin. “My stepfather won’t miss this,” she added with a grin.
“More thievery?” said Mars.
“My specialty.”
“I’ll help him inside,” Mars said to her and Ffip, instead of answering. Jeremy grabbed his coat and took it inside with them. He stuffed it in his closet.
The three of them moved as a team, helping Jeremy out of the carriage, opening the door and lighting his room, settling him into his big chair, and then separating to their individual tasks. Kannikey started a fire to boil water with, Ffip asked Jeremy where the medical supplies were, and Mars stepped outside to water the horses. When he came back in he started sifting through the larder.
“What do you have to eat, Jeremy?” he demanded. “Nothing but nuts and bread to go with this stolen wine Kannikey brought you?”
“There are three apples…” Jeremy said.
“Humph. You were supposed to feed us dinner.”
“Well I could hardly go shopping today, could I; seeing as how I was so busy being tied to that chair.”
“There seems to be enough nuts and bread for us anyway, but if we eat it all tonight you’ve got nothing else.”
“Just cut the loaf and stop complaining. I’ve got some butter up on that top shelf… ow,” Jeremy added. Kannikey had managed to boil a small amount of water, enough for Ffip to dip a rag in and begin cleaning around his wound while the needle was sterilized.
“He’s got a black eye, that’s for sure,” commented Mars. “And blood on his shirt.”
“His eye is nearly swollen shut, you mean,” sneered Kannikey. “His nose might be broken, his lip is cut, and there’s a bruise right there on the side of his temple.”
“Where, let me see!” Mars suddenly exclaimed. “Jeremy shouldn’t go around getting hit on the side of the head!”
“Leave off, Mars,” Jeremy said, annoyed. “Quit grabbing my head.”
Mars let go and shoved him away.
The Time Mechanic Page 10