time is what you make of it
First, here's what I posted yesterday: Chapter One
And here's chapter two. Again, any comments--critical, analytical, or otherwise--are welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!
Two
The Valley of Kings had become as much a tourist attraction as a nexus of science and technology research since the Federation’s inception. The city itself, renamed “King Valley,” had the Federation’s most extensive museum and sightseeing region outside of Washington City’s Smithsonian District, a scientific research center rivaling that of Scandiatropolis’s Nobel District, and the nightlife and social energy matching and even exceeding Empire City’s Entertainment District, which made it the ideal location for a safe house.
He wasn’t the most high-profile criminal in history-far from it-but he knew how to draw attention without raising any eyebrows or suspicions. The only escapee of the largest penal colony in the Federation, Waldenwood, he was at the top of a short list for the Federation’s most-wanted fugitives as well as every VIP list in King Valley. Everybody wanted him. And he loved it.
The line to Sarcophagus, King Valley’s most popular nightspot, was three blocks long and had a velvet rope just long enough to allow him in once the security guard checked his ID.
“Welcome back, Mr. Stark,” the guard said as Eli approached the rope. “Let me check your IdentiCard before you go in-the owner’s expecting you tonight.”
Eli was shorter than he looked, but he walked tall knowing that he was very good at more than just escaping a Federation prison colony. Some inmates called him “The New Houdini” because of his skill at eluding Ministry of Justice retrieval squads. His long wavy blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes were the talk of every attractive woman inside the club, as was his way with a pretty female in a dress, and his skill with a weapon was the first item on a Caution List for any Ministry of Justice officer who wanted to pursue him.
The guard handed the IdentiCard back to Eli, and opened the rope gate. “Go straight up the stairs to the second level, Mr. Stark. Dr. Kleindast is also here, and Mr. Warner has a table waiting for you.”
Eli grinned a wide, bright grin. “Excellent. Thank you, Carlos. Say hello to your wife and son for me.”
Carlos nodded in gratitude and relief. “I’ll do that. Enjoy yourself, sir.”
Eli nodded in return, and entered the club. The décor fit the profile and the name-it looked like a tomb inside the Pyramids, except for the three-tiered glass dance floor, the flashing multi-colored lights, and the up-tempo music. The patrons were dressed for intensity-clothes that allowed for freedom of movement and attention. Eli was dressed a little more subtlety-a white linen shirt, khakis, and comfortable loafers. His sunglasses were still on his face, and his smile told everyone he passed that he was there to enjoy himself, never mind his infamy in the Valley as a man on the run.
He walked up the faux stone steps to the second level, which looked out over the dance floor and the social upheaval that was King Valley’s nightlife. On the floor, he could see drug deals happening, gang wars starting in silence, and romances beginning and dying simultaneously, but he didn’t care about any of that. Eli was there to find a one-way ticket out of town.
A pair of men sat at a table in the corner, surrounded by dim lighting and armed bodyguards, but the men in the booth were expecting him.
“Eli,” one of them said as he stood and offered his hand. Stark took it and shook slowly, as he continued to grin and left his glasses on as he canvassed the room for all the exits, just in case something went south. “I trust you had no trouble getting in.” He was the owner, Jason Warner. He also owned a pair of casinos on the Nile’s eastern delta shore just south of Alexandria’s Library District, and was known for being very good at making impossible deals.
“Carlos remembered me,” Eli said.
“After what happened last time, I’m surprised he didn’t run away from you. He did need surgery, you know, and his wife won’t come near this part of town anymore.”
Eli kept grinning, and finally removed his glasses. “Loyalty is hard to find these days, especially in this town.”
“Indeed. Please,” he motioned to the booth, “sit.”
Eli slid into the booth and Warner sat next to him on his left, almost as if to buffer any escape attempt. Across from him sat a dark-skinned man with glasses, who had a file folder opened and was reading its contents as if his life depends upon it. “And you must be Dr. Kleindast,” Eli said. “I’ve read your work, Doctor. Very impressive. I’ve never seen Quantum Science interpreted so simply.”
“It is more of an art than a science, Mr. Stark,” the Doctor said, a slight German accent accompanying his comment. “But I thank you just the same. Now why have you called me here? I am very busy and do not take kindly to threats.”
“What does the Ministry of Science and Technology pay you for your research?”
“Pay?” Dr. Kleindast said. “We abolished money in the Federation three-hundred years ago. Haven’t you heard? It was money that destroyed the United States six centuries before. Greed, power, and manipulation. I do my work, as does every other person in the Federation, for the good of humanity, Mr. Stark, and I do not appreciate your belief that I can be bought. Or are you so versed in the art of bribery and threats that you forget how far we’ve come as a race?”
Stark began to laugh, as if he was amused. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Hansen. Your tenacity is preceded only by your modesty.”
The doctor became impatient. “What do you want, Mr. Stark? I have no time for games. Scandiatropolis University is expecting me to give a speech in twelve hours and I will not-”
“I want access to the Jump Gate system. I’m growing tired of running from hapless Ministry of Justice minions and I feel relocation would better suit my goals,” Eli said.
“The Jump Gates are for scientific and historical research only, Mr. Stark. If someone like you were to use them-”
“Someone like me?” The look in his eyes grew increasingly threatening and he had contempt in his voice. “Let me tell you something, Doctor.” Stark began to rise from his seat and leaned over the table, his voice’s intensity increasing. “I am the most wanted man in history, and I can make you disappear without so much as a particle of you ever being found. Now, get me access to the King Valley Jump Gates or being late for your speech will be the least of your worries.”
Kleindast quivered in his seat. “Give me one hour.” He stood, and left.
Eli looked at Warner. “Subtle, Eli,” Warner said. “Very subtle.”
* * * * *
The AMC Bullpen wasn’t quite as busy as the New York Stock Exchange, but it had the same energy. Information was going in every direction, on everything from missing persons cases to top-ten fugitive retrieval operations. It was a room about the size of a large three-story house with no floor dividers and video walls on all four sides, with the arboretum projecting through the ceiling. The SIU/Fugitive Retrieval wall was close to the exit, so Simon and Ryan could make a swift exit if a Bounty Hunter auction erupted into a riot, which happened weekly.
Simon tended to just stand back and watch the madness because he had once been a rookie, too, and had found himself in the middle of a very scary situation one too many times. Before he had become the Commanding Officer of SIU, the Bullpen was a stampede of UnOs and agents vying for information and cases, like a poorly organized political rally. It was nearly ten in the morning, which meant the latest updates were due from the Ministry of Information and Intelligence at any moment.
Simon stood on the outside of the Bullpen’s Fugitive Circle and watched the clock as it ticked down to 1000 hours. As he stood, his partner joined him.
“We expecting anything new today?” Ryan asked. He had an apple in his left hand, halfway down to the core, and a bottle of orange juice in the other.
Simon grinned at his unusually healthy selection of breakfast foods, then looked at him, then back down at the circle. “M I and I said something yesterday about having some info on a new number one. Since Nathan and Jack caught Nicodemus Pulaski last week, the list has to be adjusted. Apparently, this guy’s a ghost. He’s the first guy to break out of Waldenwood in thirty years.”
Ryan had to swallow a large chunk of apple that he didn’t quite finish chewing. “Broke out of where?”
Simon nodded. “Last guy who escaped from there was shot 30 yards from the external fence. Which means this new number one found the only way out.”
“What’s the only way out?”
“Air.”
The clock struck ten, and the information from M I & I began to transmit to the video wall.
A photo lineup began to appear on the wall, in ascending order from number 10 to most-wanted, and the lineup was a laundry list of some of the most dangerous and quirkiest criminals on the planet. As the list began to compile, Simon and Ryan began their ritual assault of wisecracks.
“Marco Cervez,” Simon said. Number ten. Wanted for arson, CSC, and escape and evasion, like all the others.
“I thought he was downgraded to eleven.”
“Nope, number ten was brought down by a Ministry retrieval squad a month ago.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Where was I?”
“On vacation,” Simon said, as he smirked and looked back at the wall. “Wow, Jonas Vanderjagt moved up four spots. Number nine. He’s a hack, but now he’s on the list. I think Jack will enjoy going after him.”
“That could be fun to watch,” Ryan commented. “Chris Carlson. Escaped from South Freeland and killed a guard on the way out the door. What drives a petty thief to murder just so he can get out of the box?”
Simon shrugged. “Sounds like a personality conflict.”
Ryan laughed. “Guy can make Sybil look well-adjusted.”
Simon glared at him. “You should talk.”
“Yeah, I know. Ooh, Carlos VanDam. Didn’t he off his boss and then screw the man’s wife?”
“If memory serves, and it usually does, they were going at it long before he killed his boss. What did he do for a living, anyway?”
“High school teacher,” Ryan said
Simon cringed. “Comforting thought. Oh nice, Michael Carter. What the hell is wrong with this guy? He has more holes and metallic objects in him than the moon after the fourth world war.”
“That’s what you gotta do if you’re gonna fit in when you live in the Entertainment District.”
“Empire City,” Simon said. “What a town. Isn’t he the cop killer?”
Ryan nodded. “Three in a weekend.”
“Gives new meaning to the phrase ‘Twice on Sunday’. Wow, Carla Holcomb. I thought she turned herself in to FCIC last month.”
“That was her twin sister, Katie. Trying to save her sister from the chamber. Now Katie’s in isolation at Waldenwood for Obstruction.”
Simon shrugged. “At least the system’s efficient these days. Good God, Christian Phelps. How the hell did a farmer’s market robber get in the top four?”
“Because he shot up the place on the way out. Took out six people and a dog.”
Simon buried his head in his hands. “Clean-up on aisle three, Bob, clean up on aisle three.”
Ryan laughed. “Okay, top three. Here we go. Wow. Jason Hardin. Guy’s been at number three for two years. Has nobody found this guy?”
“He’s a ghost. One day, he’s in King Valley, the next day is San Angeles, and the day after is Delta City. He’s everywhere. Guy has allies in every major Metroplex in the Federation.”
“There has to be more than one of him. Doesn’t he have a brother?”
“Yeah, but the brother is five years younger,” Ryan said.
“And the brother is number twelve.”
“Monkey see, monkey do.”
Number two appeared on the screen, and all Simon and Ryan could do was stare. She looked like a supermodel, but was dangerous with a weapon. She was an assassin, and she did the job well.
“Katrina Klassen. Damn.” Ryan said. Simon held his hand out under Ryan’s chin to catch the drool. “God, what I wouldn’t do to get on her hit list.”
“Bubba, I don’t think you want her trying to kill you,” Simon said. “She killed the Vice President and nearly killed the President. If she can get those two in her sights, you don’t stand a chance in hell. And trust me; she’ll make sure she isn’t the last thing you see, either. She may be drop-dead gorgeous but she isn’t terribly pleasant in person.”
“Oh well. A man can dream. I’d love to bust her, though.”
Simon laughed. “She’s yours, bubba. Just make sure you get a warrant before you go busting down her door to do her-I mean bring her in.”
Ryan glared at him. “Keep your intuition to yourself.”
Simon laughed again.
The mainframe’s digitized voice spoke. “Attention. New most-wanted fugitive. Projecting dossier in three, two, one.”
A photo appeared on the screen, and the man’s information appeared to the right of the photo. Ryan went to make a wisecrack, but one look at Simon’s face told him to keep his mouth shut.
Simon was mesmerized. It was as if he had seen this man before.
The fugitive in the photo was Eli Stark.
“Oh my God.”
Ryan looked at the picture, and then his partner. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s alive. I don’t believe it. He’s alive.”
“Who is he?”
Simon swallowed, and then looked at his partner, a tear in his left eye. He spoke slowly and softly, as if holding back an emotional outburst. “This is the son of a bitch who killed my parents.”
And here's chapter two. Again, any comments--critical, analytical, or otherwise--are welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!
Two
The Valley of Kings had become as much a tourist attraction as a nexus of science and technology research since the Federation’s inception. The city itself, renamed “King Valley,” had the Federation’s most extensive museum and sightseeing region outside of Washington City’s Smithsonian District, a scientific research center rivaling that of Scandiatropolis’s Nobel District, and the nightlife and social energy matching and even exceeding Empire City’s Entertainment District, which made it the ideal location for a safe house.
He wasn’t the most high-profile criminal in history-far from it-but he knew how to draw attention without raising any eyebrows or suspicions. The only escapee of the largest penal colony in the Federation, Waldenwood, he was at the top of a short list for the Federation’s most-wanted fugitives as well as every VIP list in King Valley. Everybody wanted him. And he loved it.
The line to Sarcophagus, King Valley’s most popular nightspot, was three blocks long and had a velvet rope just long enough to allow him in once the security guard checked his ID.
“Welcome back, Mr. Stark,” the guard said as Eli approached the rope. “Let me check your IdentiCard before you go in-the owner’s expecting you tonight.”
Eli was shorter than he looked, but he walked tall knowing that he was very good at more than just escaping a Federation prison colony. Some inmates called him “The New Houdini” because of his skill at eluding Ministry of Justice retrieval squads. His long wavy blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes were the talk of every attractive woman inside the club, as was his way with a pretty female in a dress, and his skill with a weapon was the first item on a Caution List for any Ministry of Justice officer who wanted to pursue him.
The guard handed the IdentiCard back to Eli, and opened the rope gate. “Go straight up the stairs to the second level, Mr. Stark. Dr. Kleindast is also here, and Mr. Warner has a table waiting for you.”
Eli grinned a wide, bright grin. “Excellent. Thank you, Carlos. Say hello to your wife and son for me.”
Carlos nodded in gratitude and relief. “I’ll do that. Enjoy yourself, sir.”
Eli nodded in return, and entered the club. The décor fit the profile and the name-it looked like a tomb inside the Pyramids, except for the three-tiered glass dance floor, the flashing multi-colored lights, and the up-tempo music. The patrons were dressed for intensity-clothes that allowed for freedom of movement and attention. Eli was dressed a little more subtlety-a white linen shirt, khakis, and comfortable loafers. His sunglasses were still on his face, and his smile told everyone he passed that he was there to enjoy himself, never mind his infamy in the Valley as a man on the run.
He walked up the faux stone steps to the second level, which looked out over the dance floor and the social upheaval that was King Valley’s nightlife. On the floor, he could see drug deals happening, gang wars starting in silence, and romances beginning and dying simultaneously, but he didn’t care about any of that. Eli was there to find a one-way ticket out of town.
A pair of men sat at a table in the corner, surrounded by dim lighting and armed bodyguards, but the men in the booth were expecting him.
“Eli,” one of them said as he stood and offered his hand. Stark took it and shook slowly, as he continued to grin and left his glasses on as he canvassed the room for all the exits, just in case something went south. “I trust you had no trouble getting in.” He was the owner, Jason Warner. He also owned a pair of casinos on the Nile’s eastern delta shore just south of Alexandria’s Library District, and was known for being very good at making impossible deals.
“Carlos remembered me,” Eli said.
“After what happened last time, I’m surprised he didn’t run away from you. He did need surgery, you know, and his wife won’t come near this part of town anymore.”
Eli kept grinning, and finally removed his glasses. “Loyalty is hard to find these days, especially in this town.”
“Indeed. Please,” he motioned to the booth, “sit.”
Eli slid into the booth and Warner sat next to him on his left, almost as if to buffer any escape attempt. Across from him sat a dark-skinned man with glasses, who had a file folder opened and was reading its contents as if his life depends upon it. “And you must be Dr. Kleindast,” Eli said. “I’ve read your work, Doctor. Very impressive. I’ve never seen Quantum Science interpreted so simply.”
“It is more of an art than a science, Mr. Stark,” the Doctor said, a slight German accent accompanying his comment. “But I thank you just the same. Now why have you called me here? I am very busy and do not take kindly to threats.”
“What does the Ministry of Science and Technology pay you for your research?”
“Pay?” Dr. Kleindast said. “We abolished money in the Federation three-hundred years ago. Haven’t you heard? It was money that destroyed the United States six centuries before. Greed, power, and manipulation. I do my work, as does every other person in the Federation, for the good of humanity, Mr. Stark, and I do not appreciate your belief that I can be bought. Or are you so versed in the art of bribery and threats that you forget how far we’ve come as a race?”
Stark began to laugh, as if he was amused. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Hansen. Your tenacity is preceded only by your modesty.”
The doctor became impatient. “What do you want, Mr. Stark? I have no time for games. Scandiatropolis University is expecting me to give a speech in twelve hours and I will not-”
“I want access to the Jump Gate system. I’m growing tired of running from hapless Ministry of Justice minions and I feel relocation would better suit my goals,” Eli said.
“The Jump Gates are for scientific and historical research only, Mr. Stark. If someone like you were to use them-”
“Someone like me?” The look in his eyes grew increasingly threatening and he had contempt in his voice. “Let me tell you something, Doctor.” Stark began to rise from his seat and leaned over the table, his voice’s intensity increasing. “I am the most wanted man in history, and I can make you disappear without so much as a particle of you ever being found. Now, get me access to the King Valley Jump Gates or being late for your speech will be the least of your worries.”
Kleindast quivered in his seat. “Give me one hour.” He stood, and left.
Eli looked at Warner. “Subtle, Eli,” Warner said. “Very subtle.”
* * * * *
The AMC Bullpen wasn’t quite as busy as the New York Stock Exchange, but it had the same energy. Information was going in every direction, on everything from missing persons cases to top-ten fugitive retrieval operations. It was a room about the size of a large three-story house with no floor dividers and video walls on all four sides, with the arboretum projecting through the ceiling. The SIU/Fugitive Retrieval wall was close to the exit, so Simon and Ryan could make a swift exit if a Bounty Hunter auction erupted into a riot, which happened weekly.
Simon tended to just stand back and watch the madness because he had once been a rookie, too, and had found himself in the middle of a very scary situation one too many times. Before he had become the Commanding Officer of SIU, the Bullpen was a stampede of UnOs and agents vying for information and cases, like a poorly organized political rally. It was nearly ten in the morning, which meant the latest updates were due from the Ministry of Information and Intelligence at any moment.
Simon stood on the outside of the Bullpen’s Fugitive Circle and watched the clock as it ticked down to 1000 hours. As he stood, his partner joined him.
“We expecting anything new today?” Ryan asked. He had an apple in his left hand, halfway down to the core, and a bottle of orange juice in the other.
Simon grinned at his unusually healthy selection of breakfast foods, then looked at him, then back down at the circle. “M I and I said something yesterday about having some info on a new number one. Since Nathan and Jack caught Nicodemus Pulaski last week, the list has to be adjusted. Apparently, this guy’s a ghost. He’s the first guy to break out of Waldenwood in thirty years.”
Ryan had to swallow a large chunk of apple that he didn’t quite finish chewing. “Broke out of where?”
Simon nodded. “Last guy who escaped from there was shot 30 yards from the external fence. Which means this new number one found the only way out.”
“What’s the only way out?”
“Air.”
The clock struck ten, and the information from M I & I began to transmit to the video wall.
A photo lineup began to appear on the wall, in ascending order from number 10 to most-wanted, and the lineup was a laundry list of some of the most dangerous and quirkiest criminals on the planet. As the list began to compile, Simon and Ryan began their ritual assault of wisecracks.
“Marco Cervez,” Simon said. Number ten. Wanted for arson, CSC, and escape and evasion, like all the others.
“I thought he was downgraded to eleven.”
“Nope, number ten was brought down by a Ministry retrieval squad a month ago.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Where was I?”
“On vacation,” Simon said, as he smirked and looked back at the wall. “Wow, Jonas Vanderjagt moved up four spots. Number nine. He’s a hack, but now he’s on the list. I think Jack will enjoy going after him.”
“That could be fun to watch,” Ryan commented. “Chris Carlson. Escaped from South Freeland and killed a guard on the way out the door. What drives a petty thief to murder just so he can get out of the box?”
Simon shrugged. “Sounds like a personality conflict.”
Ryan laughed. “Guy can make Sybil look well-adjusted.”
Simon glared at him. “You should talk.”
“Yeah, I know. Ooh, Carlos VanDam. Didn’t he off his boss and then screw the man’s wife?”
“If memory serves, and it usually does, they were going at it long before he killed his boss. What did he do for a living, anyway?”
“High school teacher,” Ryan said
Simon cringed. “Comforting thought. Oh nice, Michael Carter. What the hell is wrong with this guy? He has more holes and metallic objects in him than the moon after the fourth world war.”
“That’s what you gotta do if you’re gonna fit in when you live in the Entertainment District.”
“Empire City,” Simon said. “What a town. Isn’t he the cop killer?”
Ryan nodded. “Three in a weekend.”
“Gives new meaning to the phrase ‘Twice on Sunday’. Wow, Carla Holcomb. I thought she turned herself in to FCIC last month.”
“That was her twin sister, Katie. Trying to save her sister from the chamber. Now Katie’s in isolation at Waldenwood for Obstruction.”
Simon shrugged. “At least the system’s efficient these days. Good God, Christian Phelps. How the hell did a farmer’s market robber get in the top four?”
“Because he shot up the place on the way out. Took out six people and a dog.”
Simon buried his head in his hands. “Clean-up on aisle three, Bob, clean up on aisle three.”
Ryan laughed. “Okay, top three. Here we go. Wow. Jason Hardin. Guy’s been at number three for two years. Has nobody found this guy?”
“He’s a ghost. One day, he’s in King Valley, the next day is San Angeles, and the day after is Delta City. He’s everywhere. Guy has allies in every major Metroplex in the Federation.”
“There has to be more than one of him. Doesn’t he have a brother?”
“Yeah, but the brother is five years younger,” Ryan said.
“And the brother is number twelve.”
“Monkey see, monkey do.”
Number two appeared on the screen, and all Simon and Ryan could do was stare. She looked like a supermodel, but was dangerous with a weapon. She was an assassin, and she did the job well.
“Katrina Klassen. Damn.” Ryan said. Simon held his hand out under Ryan’s chin to catch the drool. “God, what I wouldn’t do to get on her hit list.”
“Bubba, I don’t think you want her trying to kill you,” Simon said. “She killed the Vice President and nearly killed the President. If she can get those two in her sights, you don’t stand a chance in hell. And trust me; she’ll make sure she isn’t the last thing you see, either. She may be drop-dead gorgeous but she isn’t terribly pleasant in person.”
“Oh well. A man can dream. I’d love to bust her, though.”
Simon laughed. “She’s yours, bubba. Just make sure you get a warrant before you go busting down her door to do her-I mean bring her in.”
Ryan glared at him. “Keep your intuition to yourself.”
Simon laughed again.
The mainframe’s digitized voice spoke. “Attention. New most-wanted fugitive. Projecting dossier in three, two, one.”
A photo appeared on the screen, and the man’s information appeared to the right of the photo. Ryan went to make a wisecrack, but one look at Simon’s face told him to keep his mouth shut.
Simon was mesmerized. It was as if he had seen this man before.
The fugitive in the photo was Eli Stark.
“Oh my God.”
Ryan looked at the picture, and then his partner. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s alive. I don’t believe it. He’s alive.”
“Who is he?”
Simon swallowed, and then looked at his partner, a tear in his left eye. He spoke slowly and softly, as if holding back an emotional outburst. “This is the son of a bitch who killed my parents.”