The Temporal (10 page)

Washington DC

Agent Cobbs was a tough man. He worked out three days a week and was down at the shooting range the other four. He had spent some time on the border dealing with smugglers, kidnappers, and the average poor Mexican or Peruvian wanting a better life. He prided himself that he never gave up until commanded to. His subordinates feared him. Failure was never an option
—even if it was by his unyielding standards that made that failure inevitable. Still, he nearly always got the job done and was highly regarded by most of his colleagues at the Immigration and Naturalization Service and then later, Homeland Security.

His cell rang while he was out walking his dogs. His only family were these two terriers. Cobbs liked terriers
—small dogs that think they can take big dogs. The call was from his secretary saying he had to report to the office securely and immediately.

He had been in Washington for some six years now. He couldn
’t get used to the bureaucracy and politics inherent to the region. He missed the field. He was a man of action—not of words, papers, and political correctness.

Thanking his secretary, he turned around and headed home. At the perimeter of his property, he knelt down and unleashed the dogs. They knew their boundaries and followed him directly to the front door, ignoring the temptations of the big world around them.

Dropping the leashes in a container just inside the door, Cobbs poured a small glass of straight Bacardi before heading to his office.

The phone on his
desk was connected to a Voice Over IP box that securely connected to his boss’ office. It was only used in case of emergencies and when discussing highly sensitive matters.

Setting down his empty glass, he pressed a button indicating to his superiors that he was available and waiting for their communication.

Moments later, the speaker beeped and a man’s voice came on line.

“
Cobbs, there is a situation at MSY. We need you on the next plane to New Orleans.”

The Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, MSY, was very familiar to Cobbs. He had grown up in New Orleans and had always considered it his home even
though he had moved away four decades before.

“
What kind of situation?”

“
A Japanese woman holding a faked US passport escaped custody when some security types pulled her away for questioning.”

“
What? Did she kill someone?”

“
No. She vanished.”

“
Yeah, she got away, but why call me?”

“
No, Cobbs, she literally vanished into thin air. She was there about to be cuffed for not answering their questions and a moment later she was... gone.”

Cobbs suppressed a laugh but let a silent smile fill his face. There was a faction among the higher-ups who didn
’t like him. They thought he had been promoted too often and too fast. Washington politics leaned toward cronyism rather than meritocracy and Cobbs was sure someone would love to see a blot on his otherwise pristine résumé.

“
Maybe these officers had a bit too much to drink?”

“
There were dozens of witnesses. I’m sending the details to your PDA now including eTickets for a flight in an hour. Get your ass on that plane.”

Cobbs dropped the smile.
“I love you, too.”

★

Cobbs landed at the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport a little under three hours after the call. The head of security was waiting for him as he walked out of the ticket gate. The man was tall and lanky and wore a standard airport security uniform. A wisp of shirt hung untucked over the belt on his left hip.

“
The name’s Smith and boy am I glad you’re here. We think there was a man with her. We chased him, but he had too great of a head start and got away.”

“
You mean, he did a disappearing act too?”

“
No, I mean, he escaped, but not like the girl. She literally disappeared before my very eyes,” he said, jabbing two fingers toward his eyes. “...in thin air.”

“
Have you gone through the video footage?”

“
Ah, no,” Smith said, tucking in his shirt and trying his best to pretend this wasn’t an oversight. “I, we decided to wait for you before doing anything that could impede your investigation.”

Investigation... Why do they do this to me?
Agent Cobbs was now certain his bosses were trying to make him look bad. It is just this sort of misunderstanding that could really mess up a career.

“
All right. Get me to the video surveillance room.”

“
Right this way, sir.”

Smith spoke into a mic
rophone inside his cuff, alerting security that they were coming and to have someone cueing the video feeds to when the woman escaped.

★

Cobbs looked around the surveillance room. It looked like it was decked out with the highest high-tech equipment available—from the 1980s. The monitors were all CRT—tiny and heavy. A few of them actually had color images. The room smelled of burnt dust and... cheese. A slightly heavy-set man was sitting in a swivel chair munching on some cheese curls while waiting for Cobbs to initiate the conversation.

“
Are there cameras in the area where she disappeared?”

“
Yes, sir. That was in customs,” the man said as he placed the snack bag aside and licked his fingers. The technician then swiveled toward the computer keyboard and completed the thought, “It is actually the most heavily covered area in the airport. We have three camera angles. I’ll display all three and synchronize them to the timeline.”

“
Good. Show me the moment she… disappeared.”

Despite the antiqued feel to the room, the deft operator
, once free of cheese curls, was able to quickly pull up the incident. Three monitors came to life. Each monitor showed a room with weary travelers waiting their turn. As the video progressed, the man pointed a fat finger at an Asian woman.

It was as Smith said. She was there about to be taken to a room for holding and then she wasn
’t. There was no jerky motion or change in position of the people around the woman. The video didn’t appear to have been tampered with. Or if it had been, the prankster had done an impressively good job within an impossibly short amount of time. There were three angles to work with, and each had varying distances and covered over two dozen people.

“
Hold it. Go back.” Cobbs was particularly interested in camera number one. Camera number two had her back and the third camera was too far away to catch any detail. “Can you replay that at half speed?”

The operator obeyed. Cobbs saw nothing different at half speed. She was there and then she wasn
’t.

“
Okay, let’s go frame by frame and zoom in on her location with camera number one. What’s the frames per second?”

“
Only fifteen. Sorry.”

Cobbs watched as one frame had her standing with her right arm crooked and her head facing the camera. Zoomed in, the image wasn
’t the sharpest, but the woman’s features could be clearly seen. The next frame showed an empty space where the woman had been standing.

“
Go back and forth between those frames.”

The people around her registered virtually no change, but she somehow had vanished completely.

“Hold it. Look at camera number three. Frame one, please.”

Agent Cobbs examined the screen. The camera was too far for details, but he could see her crooked arm and the side of her face.

“Do you want me to zoom in?”

“
No, I want to see the wide angle as is,” Cobbs said with his eyes glued to monitor number three. “Frame two.”

Smith felt a sudden flash of heat as he realized what Agent Cobbs had discovered.

“She is still there. Isn’t she, Agent Cobbs?”

“
Yes, Smith. Yes, she is.”

It was a faint blur and at least five feet away from her original position, but there was her shadow. The shadow of a woman with hair in mid-lift from running.

“This is impossible,” said an incredulous Smith.

“
Impossible and yet you witnessed it and are seeing it replayed now. Somehow, within one fifteenth of a second she moved five feet. Next frame.”

The operator obeyed, unable to speak from surprise.

“And another one fifteenth of a second she moved about fifteen feet. Look there. She’s accelerating.” Cobbs pointed to a small section of the screen just at the edge of the third camera’s view. “There is a human-shaped blur there. It is even lighter than the previous frame.”

Cobbs put a heavy hand on the operator
’s shoulder.

“
You say she was with a man?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Show me.”

Tapping on the keyboard, the man at the computer managed to push the video back two minutes before the woman had vanished. The man was talking to the woman. By their interactions, it was clear they were together.

“Hold it. Zoom in on camera number one. Get his face.”

Cobbs held his hand flat in front of the heavy-set man at the computer indicating he wanted to keep the video frame as is. He just stood there staring, memorizing the man and woman
’s features.

“
Print me a picture of their faces.”

Handing the operator a card with a FTP drop box login information on it, he said,
“Upload all the video feeds to here. I think you have found something... interesting.”

New York City

In an instant, Sam was free from his attacker’s grip and on the ground coughing. His hands flew to his throat trying to massage precious air into his dry lungs.

What was that?

From the side of his eye, Sam saw what had caused the man to let go of his throat. Another old man—strikingly similar in appearance—was attacking the first old man. He couldn’t work out who was winning the fight, but they seemed to be more or less equally matched.

Pulling himself upright,
Sam watched as the attacker gripped the second man’s throat and began to lift him off the ground as he had so easily done to Sam. Sam knew he had to get out of there, but something compelled him to stay and watch. He wanted to help his savior, but that man now seemed as helpless as he had been before the assailant.

Instead of resisting, the stranger, while being held up by the attacker
’s fist, pulled a small object out of his pocket.

A light, a flame! So bright in the darkening twilight.

For whatever reason, the light repelled the attacker in an instant. The flame caused the man to falter, let loose of his prey, and fall backwards shielding his eyes with bony arms and hands.

Sam opened his eyes after an abnormally heavy blink. Sam was no longer seeing two men. The aged wrinkles of the
first attacker gave way to silky smooth, yet pale skin. The bowler hat was gone and in its place, wild bright red hair was flying loose in nearly every direction.

Sam
’s original attacker was now a woman.

Her face seemed even more threatening than it had been as an old man.
Her lips were pulled back, baring clenched and grinding teeth as she hissed curses at the old man. Wretchedly evil, her wide eyes betrayed a sense of having let slip a deep secret.

Stunned by the absurdity of what had just happened, Sam just stood there.

“Kaileen?” Sam heard his savior say. At the sound of that name, the attacker shook her head and with a desperate look, dropped to the ground, and disappeared into the darkness as if she was nothing more than a pile of leaves blown away by the wind.

After another blink, Sam saw
that the attacker had vanished completely. His savior, the other old man, was approaching him with an arm extended. Sam’s eyes were blurred, but he got his first good look at the man. Sam’s first impression had been correct. This old man bore a remarkable resemblance to the woman’s appearance before she had attacked him.

“
Can you stand?”

Sam didn
’t quite catch the meaning of the words; everything was muffled.

“
Can you stand, Sam?” the man repeated.

“
Yeah. I think so.”

Sam took the man
’s arm and felt his body move in an upward motion until he was on his own two feet.

“
Come,” the man said curtly. His face was hard; some great concern weighed heavily upon him.

Sam watched as the man turned without further comment and headed back to the apartment. To anyone having not witnessed what just occurred, he would seem to be simply an old man taking an evening stroll with slow but steady steps.

Not sure what to do, Sam obeyed, following without a word.

Once they reached the apartments, Sam decided he should risk a question.

“Just what is happening? Who was that back there?”

“
I don’t want to talk about it,” replied the old man.

“
Wait. You can’t just order me around without some sort of explanation.”

“
Quiet and follow me.”

Sam
’s sour look was ignored by the old man who simply continued walking. Sam shrugged, shook his head, and then followed behind him. They entered an enclosed stairway and the old man took to the first step. Sam jumped in front of him, stopping his climb.

“
Look, thank you for saving me from that man… woman… or whatever it was, but I really think I deserve some answers before I keep following you.”

The old man
propped a foot on the second step and pivoted to face Sam. “Mr. Williams, at this point, I’d be quite content to just leave you to Kaileen, but I don’t think you would enjoy her company.” He waited for a response; Sam just stood there dumbfounded. “I’m going up to my flat for a rest in my recliner. If you’d like to join me, I’ll consider explaining some details after you fix me some tea.”

Sam
’s eyebrows rose, not sure how to respond. It didn’t matter, the old man had already nudged Sam to the side and was making his way up the stairs slowly, just as an elderly man with arthritis and tired bones would. Hearing some street noises outside, Sam reconsidered his ultimatum and quickly followed.

As strong and quick as he had been during the fight, the old man climbed each step one by one with a hand firmly gripping the handrail. No one else was on the stairs yet the echoes of their cautious footfalls gave the feel of a parade.

“Shouldn’t we hurry? Couldn’t that woman come back?”

“
I think not. Her secret is out.”

“
Her secret?”

The old man stopped before room 201 and turned to face Sam as he put key to keyhole.

“She isn’t supposed to be alive.” Even though the old man was facing Sam, Sam understood the man spoke more to himself. “She isn’t supposed to be.” He shook his head and faced the apartment.

The door creaked open
and the man returned his keys to his pocket. He motioned silently for Sam to enter. Sam slipped inside and the door slammed shut after the man. Sam heard the sliding and clanging of metal as the old man engaged several locks.

But Sam
’s mind was elsewhere.

A strange smell flooded his senses. It was not unpleasant, but it had a deep woodsy feel. It made him recall something from his childhood. He couldn
’t quite make out what it was, but it was familiar and comforting.

Sam
’s attention turned to the decor. There were no fewer than three crucifixes, one for each bare wall. The fourth wall was completely covered with books, hundreds of old leather bound books. Other than a well-worn recliner and a large globe in a corner, there was little else in this small living room. Sam could see two closed doors that led to unknown areas of the apartment.

He wondered if the leather bound books were the source of that nostalgic smell and he took a step toward the bookcase to find out. His father had had a set of leather bound Shakespeare plays with commentary. The ten-year old Sam would often pull one down and pretend to understand what he was reading.

“Do you know who I am?” the man asked after he finished locking the door.

Sam jolted back to face the old man and away from the bookcase and that nostalgic smell.

“I’m terribly sorry, no. Suteko gave me this card,” Sam said while pulling the crumpled card from his pocket. “She didn’t say your name. She only said you were an old... An older gentleman.”

“
Yes, I am an old man. A very old man.”

“
Older than Suteko?” Sam said carelessly, letting out her secret.

“
Let me see that card,” replied a gruff voice ignoring the question.

“
If you don’t mind, could you tell me what the name of your business is?” Sam asked before handing him the card. “The other man couldn’t tell me and then he attacked me before becoming a... she.”

“
You followed me up into my room—my securely locked room. This means you trust me to some extent and yet you ask the same question that set off that creature, huh?”

Sam realized following a stranger into a room
on the second floor of a secluded apartment wasn’t the smartest course of action. But the man had saved his life and he had entered the apartment with the same number as on the card. Something about this man was different—in a good way.

Just then, the old man burst out with jolly laughter. The laughter quickly dispelled any lingering fear Sam may have had. That fear
was now simply confusion.

“
My son, R.J. Accountants is a front for all this.” His hand waved around the walls of books and crucifixes.

“
This?” Sam wondered what kind of secrecy would necessitate manufacturing business cards with an alias. The old man simply nodded as if it required no verbal explanation.

“
So, is your name RJ?”

“
If you like. Let me be RJ.”

After examining Sam
’s puzzled face for a few moments, the old man changed the subject.

“
What did the woman want from you?”

“
The woman or the old man?”

“
She is a most vile serpent—if it is truly her. It looked like her; it felt like her, but I dare not make reckless assumptions. What did she want?”

“
I... I don’t know.”

“
Think! What did she do? What did she say? Did she ask a question?”

Sam remembered the question she had asked that had made her angry when he couldn
’t answer.

“
When she was... an old man, she asked about my dreams.”

“
What exactly did you tell her?”

“
I... I mentioned there was a bomb about to go off. She said she knew but wanted me to tell her where the bomb was—where Suteko would be going. But I didn’t answer—I’m not sure that I could have.”

“
I see.” The old man was lost in thought. Concern flooded his face when Sam interrupted him with a question.

“
RJ, what is the Temporal?”

“
My dear boy, you and I are the Temporal,” he said quickly. “But did she mention the Temporal?”

“
Yes. She asked me where the other Temporal were.”

“
A strange question to ask someone who didn’t even know that he himself was a Temporal! And a dangerous question for the queen of the Nephloc to pose. Very dangerous.”

Sam had no idea what a Nephloc could be, but he decided it was best to listen.

There was a long silence as RJ moved to one of the bookcases and slid over a few tomes from their place. He then inserted a bony hand into the newly formed space. His hand reappeared holding a long, cherry wood pipe and a small wooden box. With the thumb of his other hand, he flipped the lid up. After stuffing several pinches of tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, he placed the pipe in his mouth and asked, “Do you know what eternity is?”

Sam watched as the old man
’s hand slipped into his pocket and reappeared a second later with a match. With a fluid motion, the match went up from his pocket to striking the bookcase and becoming a flame.

Sam realized that the smell which had invoked the nostalgic memories was not from the old books but the pipe. His father would sneak a smoke in his study now and again. Young Sam had associated the sweet smell with the row of Shakespeare on his father
’s bookshelves.

“
Yeah,” Sam said after snapping his attention back. “Eternity is a very long time.”

After a few long draws, the old man said,
“Wrong. Just the opposite, in point of fact. It is the absence of time.” The old man’s voice was crusty but calm. “Just as a potter exists outside the pot, God created time and space and He exists outside of both. This existence is called ‘eternity.’”

Sam sat silently. If it had been a few weeks back, Sam would have argued the old man to the floor just for the hell of it. But things were different now.

“I’m blessed with the ability to witness time and space from God’s viewpoint. You can too. Isn’t that right, Sam Williams?”

“
How do you know my name?”

Sam remembered RJ had called him by name earlier.
But so had the attacker...

“
You don’t know by now?” the man said while settling into his oversized recliner—the only major piece of furniture in the room. “And yet, I find it peculiar you don’t know my name. Suteko wouldn’t have sent you to me unprepared.”

“
There... was a problem at the airport. Uh, your name isn’t RJ?”

“RJ it is. Go on.”

Sam cleared his throat and continued, “Security pulled her aside. Shortly before landing, she told me to go to you should something happen.”

“
Most unfortunate.” After a few puffs of smoke and glazed eyes of reflection, the old man continued, “In the history of the universe, there have been only a handful of moments when time and eternity has come to share space, colliding. This causes a great deal of confusion from our point of view, but there exists total order from eternity’s viewpoint. That union of order and confusion is what gives us our gifts.”

The old man paused to let his words sink in.