CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Taking Control
Eric and Heaven followed the IIA agents into the house. Chevelle’s parents were sitting with Chevelle on the living room sofa. “What’s going on?” Eric looked first to her parents, then to Chevelle, though she avoided his gaze.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Chevelle’s father said. “This is serious.”
The female agent, Marshall, held a picture up to the man, Barnes, its white back to Eric and the rest. They looked at the picture, then to Heaven. “Yeah, that looks like her.”
Eric kept talking at the same time. “I can tell it’s serious, but what right do they have?”
“It’s not about rights,” Barnes said forcefully. He nodded to his partner. “All right, take her. We’ll bring her to the station.” At the same time she took out a pair of handcuffs and grabbed Heaven’s wrist.
“Hey,” Heaven screamed, pulling and tugging to try to get away. “Let me go.”
“How about we all just take a minute and talk about this,” Chevelle’s dad said, standing up.
But Eric didn’t wait. “Let her go,” he cried, putting out his hands to push at Agent Marshall.
Before he could get her off balance, though, Barnes grabbed his arm from behind, twisted him around and slammed him against the wall, holding his arm crooked behind his back. “I’m going to let that go, because I understand,” he said. “But next move and I take you in, too. Can I let you go?”
He nodded. The agent let him go and he straightened out his shirt. Marshall finished snapping the handcuffs on Heaven. “Why are you doing this?”
Agent Barnes stepped over to the coffee table and pulled Heaven’s duffel bag across the floor. He unzipped it farther to reveal the piles of cash inside. “In 2012 your girlfriend used a fake ID to cheat at cards,” he explained and looked up at Heaven. “She’s been wanted for 87 years. I can’t believe we finally have the opportunity to catch her.”
Eric caught Heaven’s eyes. Disbelief spread across his face. “Is it true?”
Heaven hung her head and Eric watch in silence as she let them walk her out of the house. When the door shut behind them Chevelle’s dad put a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son.”
Eric shrugged off his hand and followed them out of the house. As he stepped outside Agent Barnes sat in the car on the side of the street and slammed the door. A moment later the car hovered up and drove off.
Behind Eric the door to the house opened again and Chevelle walked up beside him. “Eric, this sucks,” Chevelle said.
He looked at her for a second. “Yeah, it does. I’ve got to go help her.”
Eric gave his bike a good rev and spun around in the driveway to chase after the IIA agents’ car. They went up north into downtown and turned into the police station. By the time he parked and shut down the two agents, with Heaven in tow, were halfway up the steps to the entrance.
Agent Barnes looked over his shoulder and called back to Eric. “What did I tell you, kid? Stay out of our way.”
As they entered the police station another car pulled into the lot. Eric waited until the Sheriff pulled in beside him. When the Sheriff’s car lowered to the ground, Eric got off his bike and walked over. “Sheriff,” he said as Joshua stepped out. “You have to help me.”
“What’s going on?” Joshua said. He started walking to the station and Eric followed.
“Two IIA agents showed up at my friend’s house,” Eric explained. “I’ve been staying there since South Mapiya came back, and the tornado.”
“Get to the point, son,” Joshua said.
“They took Heaven.”
“What?” the Sheriff exclaimed, probably wondering how they could take the heavens. They stepped inside and Eric followed the Sheriff to the back, where they kept a few spare cells for temporary holdings.
“Heaven is the girl from 2012 that was with me when I met you on my street. They took her,” he said, pointing down the hallway. He could see them now, talking with the Deputy and putting Heaven in her own cell. Heaven saw him, too, and called out to him as the cell door slammed shut. “They claim she cheated at cards to rob a casino in 2012, but she’s innocent. Even if she wasn’t, they can’t do this. Sheriff, you can’t take away her freedom. It’s all she has left.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Joshua said. He looked up at the agents. “But I won’t have you two arresting people without cause in my city. Deputy, get the girl out of that cell.”
“This isn’t your call, Sheriff,” Agent Barnes said.
“You bet it is,” he shot back. “What’s the statute of limitations on counting cards to steal from a casino, anyways? Not that it matters. If she committed any crimes, they happened in a different country. She’d have to be deported and tried in her own country. Now which one of you wants to tell me which way it is to the United States of America?”
Agent Marshall looked up at Barnes and he bared his teeth. “This isn’t over Sheriff.”
“Oh yes it is,” Joshua said, matching him glare for glare. “Now get out of my station.”
The two IIA agents began walking towards the exit. “We’ll be in town for a little while, Sheriff, looking over some things. Stay out of our way.”
“I’ll be watching,” Joshua promised as they left. He looked to Eric and Heaven. “You two better get home, now.”
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Eric said. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing. I’m just doing my job. Now get out of here.”
As soon as they were outside Heaven grabbed him in a tight hug. “Thanks for coming for me,” she said. “I’m sorry about all this.”
Was that a tear he saw on her cheek? “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“Oh, and my dress,” she moaned. “I was trying to buy it with that money. Now I’ll have nothing to wear to the dance.”
Eric smiled. “I like you just the way you are, Heaven.”
“Well, you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Freedom is not the only thing I have anymore, is it?” she said, smiling wide. “Now I have you, too.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks again.”
***
As expected, Dravin received a phone call a few hours after his discussion with the Deputy Director. He had his ticket in, an invitation to speak with the Director of the IIA. An agent met him in the lobby of the IIA building, near the elevators to the left of the grand room. Still in handcuffs, Cecilia walked a step ahead of Dravin; she was now officially in his custody.
“Agent Davidson, I presume,” the IIA agent greeted him. He nodded, holding up his hand so the phone displayed a holographic image of his ID. “Right this way.” This one was no-nonsense. He clearly didn’t enjoy this late night assignment, didn’t even bother giving them his name, and likely was told nothing other than to escort Dravin to the Director.
The agent had Dravin and Cecilia enter the elevator first, then stepped behind them, always with one eye on them and both hands free. Dravin noticed immediately that the elevator had no buttons. Smart phones had become so prevalent, even being worn as decoration on the hand, that the agent just flicked open his phone with a squeeze of the fingers and selected a floor. Dravin noted the number, 20. By his estimation, all the way to the top.
The agent escorting them was standard issue, straight-laced and duty conscious. The man’s expression didn’t change since he saw them in the lobby. Cecilia held a solemn expression, sunken and beaten. A large bruise had already begun to form on the side of her head where he smacked her.
The elevator opened to a large upper room, the Director’s personal office. To the right a door led, presumably, to the rest of the floor, and this elevator was just his own private entrance. Dravin scoffed at the idea and wondered what else had changed. Was it a matter of fact that all officers of higher station in government service would be treated in such a lavish style? The Director’s office was larger than the President’s Oval Office in the White House. Unless that, too, has changed, Dravin thought with a smirk.
They walked passed a trio of sofas and a large semi-circular desk to a pair of tall window doors that slid open as they approached. The agent stepped out on the balcony and waited, patiently and without pressing, until Dravin nudged Cecilia and stepped onto the balcony behind her, as well.
“Director Rohon Church wishes to speak to you privately,” the agent said, extending his hand to indicate a pair of metal seats by a large round glass table. “He’ll be with you in a moment.”
Dravin did as directed and he and Cecilia took a seat. The plush leather seat across from them, then, would be the Director’s. As they sat, the agent disappeared back into the building.
The Director didn’t keep them waiting long. Just a minute later the glass doors to the office slid open to admit a tall, white man with a long face, black hair slicked back. Dravin smiled. “Armani is still around in 2099, then,” he said in greeting.
“And still the height of fashion,” Rohon said with a slight British accent. He walked over to Dravin and dropped a file on the table in front of him, his file on the QED and The Event. “Can I get you something to drink? Scotch or brandy?”
“Thanks, but I’m on duty,” Dravin said.
Rohon laughed at the claim. “You’ve lost your time and your country, but you are ever the American soldier, aren’t you?” He walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the balcony and drew out a boxy glass bottle. “I hope you don’t mind if I have some, then.”
“Of course not,” Dravin said, knowing it would matter whether he minded or not.
“So who’s this? Your partner?” Rohon asked as he poured a short glass and put the bottle of scotch away. “That’s one nasty bruise, what happened to you?”
Dravin grabbed Cecilia’s wrists and lifted them up for Rohon to see the handcuffs. “She’s in my custody,” Dravin said. He flashed a sideways grin to Cecilia. “My prisoner.”
Cecilia chose that moment to cry out. “He gave me this bruise. He’s holding me against my will,” she said.
“Well, of course he is, dear,” Rohon said, almost laughing. “That’s what prisoner means.”
“He sabotaged the device,” Cecilia claimed. “It was him.”
“Even if that were true, I wouldn’t believe a word you said.”
Dravin dropped Cecilia’s wrist and she sat back to sulk. “If you don’t mind my asking, Rohon, you trust me now? You must know I’m carrying weapons, yet we’re out here all alone.”
“Agent Davidson,” Rohon started, then looked up. “May I call you Dravin?” He nodded. “Good. Well, Dravin, to be perfectly frank, no, I don’t yet trust you. You’re an agent of the American government. For all I know, you’re a true patriot that would commit all sorts of vile acts to try to make this country like it used to be, including murdering the Director of the IIA for a reason I can’t fathom.”
“And my weapons?” Dravin asked again, knowing there must be something more.
Rohon took the large leather seat, crossed his legs, and took a sip of scotch. “I do trust about a dozen men that currently have you and your friend here in the cross hairs who would gladly shoot both of you dead before you could even raise your weapon.”
Dravin glanced up, then over at nearby buildings, as if he could spot the snipers, but of course he wouldn’t be able to, especially so late at night. He focused back on Rohon. “You know how important this is, then.”
“I have to admit, I didn’t know much before this morning when I got the news that a suburb in Minnesota suddenly reappeared after the world thought it was destroyed for three quarters of a century. Even then, we couldn’t find many official records until you came to us this evening with your file.”
“What did you think happened?” Dravin wondered.
Rohon looked at the last pool of scotch, balancing the glass between his fingers. “I don’t think you can truly understand the gravity of the situation, Dravin. Mapiya is a name of myth and legend, and has been for the last 87 years. The weight of time bears down on us, my friend.
“Think of Roswell and Area 51, the images those invoke in you of aliens, UFOs as flying spaceships, and government conspiracy and cover up. Here we actually do have a government cover up, a town that has been under government lock down for 7 dozen years that by all appearances was destroyed, wiped off the map. Do you have any idea what people think happened there?”
Dravin shook his head. “I can’t imagine.” Really, he couldn’t. He had tried, but it was just too close, and for him it had only been a day.
Rohon downed the last of his scotch, stood up and leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the city lights. “Where should I start?” he said, scratching his chin. “A test of a new American weapon went awry. This weapon can instantly, silently, and invisibly scorch any spot on Earth. That’s one of my favorites. There are plenty of variations. Some say it was a secret satellite, others a nuclear bomb protected by some kind of barrier; take your pick on what kind: cloaking technology, force field, alternate universe. It nearly started World War III when other nations thought America had this kind of technology.
“Other theorists link it to aliens. They needed humans for study, or breeding, or colonization of other planets, whatever you fancy. So they just plucked a sample town. The scorched earth was a side effect of their teleportation technology. At first some thought they were taking a sampling of humans to protect our race from a complete annihilation of the planet. And the truth was, no one really knew, not even those in the FBI that knew about Mister, what was it—” he checked the file again “—Motega Wilson’s experiment.”
Dravin’s eyes lit up. “That’s why you didn’t press the button, isn’t it?” That had been bothering him. If a kid from Mapiya could find the device, his superiors who knew he was there certainly would have looked for it. So why hadn’t they pressed the button for all this time to bring them back? “You were afraid of what would happen.”
Rohon smiled. “Well, wouldn’t you be?” he said, taking his seat again and leaning forward. “Yes, they knew about the device. When you gave us your file we used it to finally be able to locate some information in our archives. That city completely gone, no survivors, in some mysterious fashion, it wasn’t by design. So what would happen if we pressed the button again? The next time we could lose St. Paul and Minneapolis, or all of Minnesota. Would you take that risk?”
“I guess not, sir.”
“So we buried it, or left it buried, until America crumbled in the Oil Wars and joined forces with Canada and Mexico. The world changed that year, and I was barely old enough to know it. Much was lost. The data on your QED may yet be hidden in some archived database. We found more files this evening, cataloged in an obscure manner. For the last 50 years we didn’t even really know what we were protecting there, or maybe it would have been under heavier guard.” He chuckled. “And to think that some teenager did the unthinkable and pressed the button, bringing all of you back.”
Rohon ended and silence reigned in the brisk night air. Far below they could hear the sounds of traffic, people still bustling about their busy lives. Finally, Rohon leaned back and put one arm over the back of the chair. “Well, I’ve talked quite a bit here, now we come to the fun part. Why are you here?”
Dravin crossed his arms. “You’re going to assign me to the case.”
“Why would I do that?” Rohon asked. He grinned, as if Dravin was joking with him. “We already have your file, and that led us to the rest of the information that you had on the device all the way back to before 2012.”
“And now you have me,” Dravin said. “You want me working on this.” Rohon didn’t respond, patiently waiting for Dravin to add something more substantial. “I’m involved in this personally. I’m something of a scientist myself, or I was. I know the principles involved. On top of that, I’m a darn good agent.”
“I’ve got half a dozen scientists with 80 more years of modern science and two IIA agents already in Mapiya, better trained than you.”
“But none of them have ever lived in 2012,” Dravin added. “And none of them had Motega as a roommate in college. Like I said, I’m involved in this personally. The Quantum Entanglement Device was even my idea, originally, which Motega then stole. Then I was the agent assigned oversight over his government funded project.”
“That’s exactly the kind of baggage that makes me hesitate,” Rohon said, slower to object this time.
“It’s exactly what makes me the right man for this job.”
Rohon didn’t move. His eyes crossed over Dravin and he could feel Rohon examining him. He was thinking over the proposal. Finally he stood up and extended a hand to Dravin. “Welcome to the IIA.” Dravin stood up to accept the handshake. “Let’s get one thing straight up front: I don’t need you. You’re coming on board because you could be an asset, but your risk could very easily outweigh your benefit. Don’t make me change my mind. I’m placing you under Agent Barnes. He’s already heading up investigation in town.”
“I want command of this case,” Dravin insisted.
“But you’ll take what I give you. You are under Agent Barnes’ command, at least at first.”
Dravin nodded his consent. He at least was getting in where he needed to be. He glanced back at Cecilia. “Can you take care of this one? I’ll need her out of the way for a while.”
Rohon grinned. “As far as the North American Coalition is concerned, she doesn’t even exist.”