A Temporal Trust (The Temporal Book 2) (7 page)

“Do not fear. I know and I am not displeased with you, my pet. I have information. But I want you to personally lead the charge—not that fool Carritos.”

“Of course,” she said keeping her head low. “I will not fail you.”

“Of course,” he said, parroting. “Reach your hand into the column of smoke. I will instruct you regarding the enemy locations.”

“Master,” Kaileen said, not wishing to receive the information through a mindbend. It was a direct connection of pure information and her mind, but the path that the information took ripped through her physical body. It was pain incarnate. “Could you not…”

“My dear pet, you will initiate the mindbend. I will not repeat this as if it were some petty request. You will internalize this information, find the Temporal, and destroy them.”

Keeping her left fist on the ground, she lifted her right hand, fingers extended toward the cloud. She stopped an inch away from the smoke. It was never a pleasant experience—she was not Perazim who would feel no pain during the procedure; under a morphic layering, her flesh was real. Pain notwithstanding, this was the quickest way to absorb knowledge and accept training. It was the only way to both ensure an accurate transmission and be absolutely sure no one else would learn the information that had been coded with her unique signature.

Thrusting her hand in, she was inundated with wave after wave of energy pulses, tearing and pulling at her. It was pure information ripping through her body—bone and flesh—until it was at last absorbed by her mind.

An instant later, the smoke was gone and the box, silent. Only her trembling hand remained of the experience. Despite the pain, she smiled. She knew the locations. It was time to hunt.

After entering the waiting room, Dr. Bracker spoke with each of the Temporal briefly before retiring to a lonely corner with the phone to his ear. He was far enough to be out of Sam’s earshot. And this only made Sam curious.

Seeing an unusually harsh look on Dr. Bracker’s face while on the phone, Sam grew more curious. He trained his ears and his gift toward Bracker’s conversation. But the more he tried, the less he got. As before, Sam could sense nothing from Dr. Bracker. No thoughts. No feelings—no trace of the man’s signature. Nothing.

Dr. Bracker slipped his phone into his pocket. He looked across the room and met Sam’s staring eyes. While concentrating on the echoes, Sam became oblivious to common social mores. He had been absentmindedly staring at the president’s advisor while attempting to spy on his thoughts.

Making his way toward the now squirming Sam, Dr. Bracker said, “You are wondering with whom I just spoke and about what subject.”

Sam suddenly felt a flush of red embarrassment. Practicing his gifts very often took his mind from his surroundings, but he had never been caught in such an awkward moment.

“I first spoke with one of the president’s aides—an old friend. The president was on the phone with some foreign dignitary and so we chatted a while. I then gave the president a full update as he requested.”

“Of course. Sorry for being rude.”

“Not at all. This is a very sensitive matter.” Dr. Bracker leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “Sam, I understand your caution, but the only people who know of your group and of this mission are in these two rooms. General Gordon and the president also, of course. These are all trustworthy people—even if I may have disagreements with the good general.”

Sam smiled a reply and turned to sit nervously next to Suteko while Dr. Bracker returned to a seat across the room.

“So, what was his call about?”

“He talked to the president, so he says.”

“You don’t believe him,” Suteko said in a voice just over a whisper.

“No. I mean, yes, I believe him. I have no reason to not believe him.”

Sam felt ashamed for having any doubts. Not only did the president trust Bracker, but Marcus had also spoken with him and allowed Bracker to stay. He knew Marcus would not allow any threats to their safety.

“But something is bothering you?” She saw that Sam’s muscles were tense; he was holding on to the edge of his seat with a grip nearly tight enough to tear the fabric. “Tell me,” she said while her fingers made contact with and then slid over the back of his hand. Her touch alleviated some of the tension, but not all.

“Suteko, I can’t read him.”

“Dr. Bracker? What do you mean? You can’t read just anybody’s thoughts…”

“Yes, that’s true, but I can always get a sense of any person’s overall state of mind. In most cases, I can even know their specific intentions. I’m not talking about hearing thoughts or even vague feelings; with Dr. Bracker, I get nothing.”

Suteko’s puzzled face amplified the concern in her voice. “And this bothers you?”

“I don’t know. It could be meaningless. It isn’t like I have met all the people in the world. Maybe short, yet distinguished looking gentlemen intimidate me and my super powers?”

Sam looked up at Dr. Bracker on the other side of the large room. The man had his eyes closed and his right hand was resting on his crossed legs. He drew his lips in tight, like a clamped vise. He was rubbing his fingers together as if impatiently waiting for something to happen.

Suteko squeezed Sam’s hand. “Is it,” Suteko said thinking back to the Nephloc attack. “Is it similar to how the Nephloc were masking their true intentions when they came for me?”

“No,” Sam answered without pause. With the Nephloc, he could see them and know their feelings. He had known their minds were being shielded. With Dr. Bracker, there was nothing. His mind wasn’t being masked; it was like his thoughts—
his being
—didn’t exist. Sam shook his head partially in answer to her question and partially to wordlessly express his bewilderment. “It is like how it was for me before the earthquake, when I was just a normal everyday sort of guy. I get nothing from him. With those Nephloc that night, it was jumbled and noisy, but it was there.” Sam kept his eyes on Dr. Bracker who was still cross-legged but now the nervous fingers were thumbing his cell phone.

General Gordon returned, interrupting their conversation. Marcus entered the waiting room with him. Sam saw Gordon’s upper lip contort at the sight of Bracker who had opened his eyes but kept the vise-like lips closed. The general quickly shook that expression off and, turning to the Temporal, he said, “Everything is set in motion, you are all welcome to stay here, but I believe you will be more comfortable at the lodgings we have prepared for you. A car is waiting upstairs for anyone who would like to go.”

Sam felt tired. It was well past midnight, but that was irrelevant. The time of the day rarely affected him anymore. But he was drained, exhausted like he used to feel after a long day of physical work. He had another reason for leaving. He was concerned about Catherine. Why had she lashed out like she did? What was her problem with Suteko? More importantly, what was her history with Suteko and Ian? Something was wrong and being near her, he might be able to help while also answering some burning questions related to Suteko’s past. He stood and walked out, accepting the general’s offer.

“Lieutenant, would you mind?” Gordon said to the young man standing beside him while keeping an eye on Bracker. “I’ve already made the trip once and I really ought to be here protecting sensitive information.”

Lieutenant Scott Harrison waved his arm toward the elevator and said, “Right this way, if you please.”

Everyone, including Marcus, followed the lieutenant. Dr. Bracker also joined them to the ground floor, but as he had come, he left alone.

Thirty minutes later, Sam settled under the covers of a king-size bed. He had intended to check on Catherine immediately, but hearing that she was held-up in her room, he too headed the call of a comfortable bed. He would check on Catherine later with a clear head.

Sam was experiencing that dream again. He was asleep, and yet he was mindful that what he was seeing was a dream, the dream he’d had since childhood. It was what had always given him the strength to face another day; it was the dream about Suteko.

Since meeting the real Suteko only a few months before, he had not expected to have the dream again. He had, after all, met the fulfillment of the dream. With the purpose behind that reoccurring dream known, why would it return? The warmth and overwhelming sense of love he felt in the dream did indeed carry over to reality with her—with her amazing touch. And yet, he was dreaming the dream again.

Suteko smiled at him; he felt the muscles on his face react as a smile formed of its own.

And then suddenly, her face changed. Her lips were no longer turned up, but filled with a pressed kind of concern, if not outright fear. Her eyes widened and her hands moved wildly as if warning him of some looming danger.

Sam didn’t want to, but he knew the Suteko of his dreams was telling him he needed to wake up.

When he did, he noticed there were patterns going off in a frenzy within his mind. These patterns indicated something was near. A Temporal...no, Nephloc.

Since the last time with Kaileen—when he had failed to sense her presence while asleep—he had practiced being alert and in search of her signature at all times, even while asleep. He had awoken with several false readings before, but this was different and much stronger. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Kaileen, but it wasn’t a friend either.

As he steadied his breathing and forced his mind to be completely awake, he organized the disordered and rapidly moving patterns.

It was a single Nephloc, and it was very close.

Sam jumped up and, grabbing a nearby shirt, he looped it over his neck. After thrusting his right hand through the arm hole, he grabbed the door knob. A second later he was with the others who were congregated around a table playing cards.

“Nephloc,” said Sam, slightly out of breath. “There’s a Nephloc nearby. It appeared while I was asleep.”

Lieutenant Harrison, who had stayed after driving them to the Berkshire House, was immediately on his feet with his pistol drawn. Harrison knew very little of the evil that stood against them, but he knew enough.

“Sam,” said Marcus, “where is he now?”

Sam closed his eyes, a look of utter confusion filled his face. “I...I think it is on the other side of the front door.” Sam shook his head and opened his eyes. “I can’t explain it, but the signature is loud as if it wants me to see it. And…” Sam paused, closing his eyes once more, making sure he had it right. “And it is one of the four that came to attack Suteko.”

Ian stood up, kicking his chair out. Splinters of wood hit the wall behind him. Whether the force of his standing did it or the impact to the wall, the chair was ruined.

“Ian, stand down. We will do this together!”

Marcus’ voice was loud and powerful enough that even Ian was forced to obey; Ian backed away, tightening his fists as if he wanted to slam them into the wall again.

“Sam, is it still there?”

“Yes. It appeared about five minutes ago a few hundred feet from the door. Then, it walked to the front door and hasn’t moved since.”

“Suteko, do you sense anything? Is this a trap?”

Suteko shook her head. “I hear only echoes of fear. I sense no evil intent.”

“Sam, you said this was one of the four. Is it the one that spoke to us?”

“No. This is the one that escaped.”

“A fine spy we have here,” said Ian with a growl. “I guess it hadn’t learned its lesson the last time. Marcus, let me loop around and bring it in for questioning.”

“Patience, Ian. You are strong and wise, but the strength of wisdom is cut short by haste.” The old man stood straight. “Sam, monitor our friend. Tell me if he moves. Tell me if any others appear within a five mile radius. Look deep into the earth too.”

“Underground?”

“Yes, underground.”

Sam shrugged and began to disperse his attention in all directions including down. He immediately understood why Marcus had asked what he did. Although there were no Nephloc underground, he could sense a fading trace left behind by the one who was now in the front of the building. It had traveled here through dirt, deep underground. It made no sense to Sam, but he was certain of the direction of the Nephloc’s approach.

“Sam, do you have anything?”

“No. And the one outside hasn’t moved since I first noticed it. But I do sense that it came here from some underground passageway. How did you know?”

“Where else could it come from? You expect it to walk down Sixteenth Avenue? Well, then, let us go meet our guest.” Marcus’ voice was calm and composed, as if said truly to meet a friend.

Sam and Suteko rose with the old man. Catherine appeared from the other room, the commotion finally pulling her from her solitude. Ian stood, but said, “It could have a weapon. Let me at least go around back and get a visual first. Sam may have a great radar, but he can’t see what that thing is holding. He could have a pistol or even a bomb.” Seeing the old man’s hardened face, he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t attack your precious enemy. I’ll just report on my phone what I see.” Ian held up his cell phone.

“He has a point,” Sam said.

“All right, but stay out of sight of the creature. Report to us what you see. Then, let me do the talking.”

Ian nodded and then broke into a jog toward the back exit. The others moved in the direction of the front of the building and the door nearest the Nephloc.

Unlike the others, Ian was not gifted with the ability to slow time. He was the only Temporal Marcus had met who could not. He could run only as fast as any non-Temporal human, but he was a natural sprinter.

Less than a minute later, Suteko’s phone rang. She answered and pressed the speaker button. “I’m east of the building.” Ian’s voice was a whisper. “I can see it now. It does not know I’m watching. It is just sitting down with its hands palms up and resting on crossed legs. It looks like some dirty hippy doing yoga. I don’t see a weapon, but I do not know what its cloak conceals.”

“Understood,” said Marcus. “We will confront it. If it tries to run, stop it, Ian.”