Prologue

“Don’t worry about that right now!” Marya hissed into the microphone. She turned to the speaker and straightened his collar once more. She thought to herself that none of this should be so difficult. If only she wasn’t surrounded by incompetence. How, how had she ended up here?

Chapter One

I knew all along Veronica was a plant, stupid Comicin cow! As I look around the room I’ve been hauled into, all I see are parts- lots and lots of parts. Obviously, I’m here to work. So I guess this whole ruse isn’t about Alfred or the card after all. Veronica and Ralph stand near a table in the middle of the room talking. They’re not even trying to muffle their voices. Wow-o, that’s some arrogance.

“I think you’re putting more stock in this girl’s capabilities and in the effects of her “inventions” (yeah, she actually used air quotes) than you should. How could a machine really be that powerful? Powerful enough to restore all that was taken from you? Wouldn’t it be more prudent (I’m surprised she knows the word) to have multiple plans? Gather more people to our side? Overwhelm the whitecarder with numbers? Maybe even plant…”

“Stop!” Ralph bellows (seriously, he bellowed). “First, you have no idea of what this girl is capable. Second, you have no concept of my loss. Third, no one asked for your assistance in planning. Your job is to simply follow orders; nothing more.” As he spoke he moved a hand up to the nape of her neck, and by the time he finished he was squeezing hard enough to cause considerable pain. I recognized that position all too well. It’s not really about pain; it’s about control.

I stand gazing directly at the pair as this scene unfolds. If they aren’t worried about me hearing, I’m worried about them seeing me watching them. Besides, if they wanted to kill me they could have- many times. And, I reason they can’t hurt me too badly, or I won’t be able to work. Like I’m actually going to build them something to help with their rebellion. I don’t give a crap about their stupid rebellion. I’ve been an exile longer than the current government has been in charge. Maybe Ralph here doesn’t understand that I know it was his regime that placed me in the lovely resort known as Sector 7.

I’m getting a little tired- OK, a lot tired- of this ridiculous kidnapping and gun-aiming and drugging (actually, the vodka wasn’t so bad- except for the headache the next day). What’s wrong with these people? I’m just going to bide my time, use my wits, and stay a few moves ahead of everyone else- no problem. I’ve been in tougher spots and always turned up just fine.

As I let this last thought wash over me like a salve, the north door to the room, which admittedly I hadn’t even seen, flies open and machine gun spray fills the air. I hit the floor hoping I haven’t been hit. OK, maybe I was too hasty in my assumption that I’d been in tougher spots before. Actually, I’ve never had this happen. I lay still, not sure what to do. After awhile there is no sound, so I peek up over the table I had slid under and look cautiously around the room. Veronica and Ralph are not moving, and no one else is in sight. Now what?

Chapter 1 part 2

I slowly move so that I can check the condition of the motionless duo. Sure enough, their eyes are wide and staring. Well, shoot what a shame. Whatever will we do without Captain Red and his floozy sidekick? Too bad I didn’t get to kick her in the side before she got shot full of lead.

I’m about to get up and creep around the room when a shadow steps through the doorway. I hastily drop back down and lie flat on the floor, watching from under the table. The shadow slowly walks into the room and I’m surprised that I didn’t hear it step through the door. Its legs make a click-hiss, click-hiss sound as it walks. I swallow, recognizing the sound of clockwork machinery. The thing walks up to the bodies and nudges each of them with its booted foot. It then walks over to the chair I vacated. It stops in front of the chair and I hold my breath, hoping that the murderous clockwork thing won’t find me.

To my utter horror, it slowly drops down to one knee. The first thing my temporarily fear-frozen brain realizes as it snaps back into motion is that the thing is wearing grey rebel military-issue pants on very human looking legs. There’s a clunk on the table as something heavy is set on it. I see the machine’s left hand come down to the floor just before it leans over.

I scream as its face comes into view. I open my mouth and utter an ear-piercing cry that is likely to shatter every window in the building.

The clockwork thing yells in surprise and nearly falls over. It’s then that I realize, it’s not a thing, it’s a guy.

He stares at me with wide brown eyes, his dark eyebrows still raised in an expression of surprise. His shaggy red-brown hair lies on his cheek and falls behind his neck as he cocks his head in order to look at me under the table. His sharp nose casts a small shadow over his cheek under the fluorescents . He’s wearing a rebel uniform with black gloves. His face softens and his very human lips twist in a roguish smile.

“Well, well, well…”

I don’t give him a chance to finish. With a cry, I throw my foot out at his arm. The bend between my foot and my leg connects. Pain flashes up my leg as I strike metal. His elbow bends slightly with a small click-hiss but otherwise, nothing happens. I wince and scramble back, pressing up against the wall.

He frowns at me.

“Hey, now, that’s not very nice. After all, we’ve just met.”

I watch him suspiciously as he stands, the gears in his joints grinding. With a small heave, he pushes the table out of the way, leaving me completely open to attack. He offers one gloved hand, but my eyes are fixed on the machine gun he’s now resting on his shoulder like some kind of gunslinger. He follows my gaze and his face twists in mild alarm, as if he just noticed the weapon himself.

“Oh, you’re worried about this old thing?” he taps it with the first finger of his opposite hand.

I don’t move.

“It’s okay; I’m not here to kill you. I just wanna talk.”

He offers his hand again.

My eyes move back and forth between the gun and his hand. I still don’t move, afraid that he’s just toying with me. He sighs and reaches up to touch his ear. I watch as he moves his hair to reveal some sort of earpiece. He presses a button on it and I hear the telltale clicking of more gears.

“Hey, Evan, I need you,” his eyes get that glazed look that indicates the person isn’t all there at the moment.

A voice warbles disjointedly from the earpiece.

“Why?” the question is drawn out like the guy on the other end of the line feels as if he has something better to do with his time.

“I’m need you to hold my weapons, while I talk to, ah…” he momentarily releases the button and his earpiece and looks back at me, “Clari, right?”

I find myself nodding in return. He smiles at me as he pushes the button again.

“While I talk to Clari.”

The guy he’s talking to gives a big dramatic sigh that makes me wanna roll my eyes. I hate guys like that.

“Fine,” he says, as if it’ll be a painful ordeal, “I’m coming.”

Chapter 1 part 3

Evan appears, click-hissing as he does so. From what I can tell, only one leg’s got clockwork in it. He limps into the room shooting me a look that says I’m the reason he got pulled away from his favorite past-time. Judging from the blood splattered on his uniform, I don’t think I wanna know.

“Give me the gun, Dilan,” he sighs, like he can’t possibly think of a more boring thing to do.

Dilan hands over his gun and then pulls a serrated knife from his boot before giving it to Evan as well. Evan stands there with his hands held out for the items, his eyes staring at the space above Dilan’s head and his face set in a mournful expression. As soon as he’s in possession of the weapons, he turns and limps back out the door.

Dilan lowers himself into the chair and smiles apologetically at me.

“I know it’s customary to let the lady have the chair, but you’ll have to excuse me. These clockwork joints aren’t the most comfortable things to be standing on for long periods of time.”

I don’t answer as he rolls up his pant leg, revealing a metal calf of a golden bronze color. It’s obviously some kind of outer plating. The plating extends past his knee, but he doesn’t allow me to see how far. He pulls a knob up by his knee and the plating on the inside of his leg swings open, allowing me to see the gears and gadgets inside. He begins to crank and wind, repairing something.

“So, I’m sure you have questions…” Dilan prompts.

I look at him in disbelief. He walked in and mowed down my kidnappers not even ten minutes ago (by the way, they’re still over there cooling on the floor) and he’s decided we’re gonna be all chummy now? I decide that I can probably speak my mind since he’s apparently unarmed.

“Yeah, who or what the heck are you?”

His lips twist in a small smile, half hidden by his shaggy hair. He remained silent for a few moments, cranking the inside of his fake leg. Then he shut the thing with a hollow clang and looked up at me, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I am a Timekeeper.”

Chapter 1 end

I look at him for a moment. He looks back. I soon realizes that he thinks I know that a ‘Timekeeper’ is.

“A what?”

He sighs.

“Timekeepers are members of what you call ‘the rebels’ who have needed body parts surgically replaced by clockwork.”

My mind logs this and then goes back to where he said ‘part of the rebels’.

“Wait, I thought those guys were the rebels…” I point at the two bodies on the floor, trying not to look at them.

He glares at them.

“Nope. It’s true that Ralph did lose the seat of power, but he only managed to rally a few supporters for his cause. You see, he wasn’t the most popular white-carder. In order to beef up his image, he used our name, in the process disfiguring our image. In truth, our organization is called ‘Cardless’, which is pretty self-explanatory when it comes to our goals. We want a world of harmony. No more sectors and classes. No more white-carder ruling all. Instead, we’ll set up a new system in which the people have a voice.”

I try to wrap my mind around this. Dilan’s eyes aren’t lying, but that doesn’t mean anything. He could have been fed this information in order to convince me it’s true.

“That’s cool and all, but you still haven’t told me your name.”

He flashes his roguish smile again.

“Captain Dilan Leecon, at your service milady.”

I study Captain Dilan Leecon for a moment more before another question comes to mind.

“How did you know who I was?”

He leans back in the chair, causing it to creak.

“Well, you’re the reason we’re here. Our spies warned us of the abduction beforehand and we decided we’d go ahead and take Ralph and his organization out, there weren’t very many of them. Sorry about the scare, by the way. I just didn’t want to get up close and personal with either of them,” he jerks his chin toward the bodies.

I don’t look over at them.

“But, the true reason we busted in was to get you out. You see, we’d been about to approach you with a job offer yesterday but Ralph got to you first. We’d like you to help us out.”

I close my eyes. Of course, it’s always about the job. I think for a few moments before reaching the conclusion: why not, if they don’t make it, I’ll be no worse off than before. If they do, I’ll eat a lot better.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, opening my eyes to meet his gaze, “I’ll join up.”

-----------------------------------------

So ends chapter one. Take it away, Owen. In order to keep your posts from going to the top of the page, when you finish your post, go down to post options before you click the 'Publish' button. Enter the time '12:57' for the first, '12:56' for the second and so on. Pass the info along.

Chapter 2

It’s been days since we traveled to the hideout, hoping to storm the keep and rescue Clari. Except, they were all dead. All the rebels were dead. Machine gun fire. Sean and I kept Desmond from the worst of it. The interrogation chamber, were we thought we would find Clari, was only filled by the corpses of Ralph and Veronica. Serves them right.

“Where could she have gone?” Desmond asked again interrupting my reverie. We were hanging out in Clari’s old garage, trying to make sense of everything.

“She had to been alive, right? I mean, that’s why they took her, right, Alfred?” Desmond looked at me worriedly.

I sighed. “Sean. Could you put Des to bed please?”

“C’mon Des. Time to sleep,” Sean commanded autonomously. I watched him take Des through the door in the back and I sighed again. Life was tough for us now.

I continued my courier business, just trying to keep us alive. Just the other day I found some Hydrospeed by chance. It was our happiest day. We sold it for enough cash to keep us fed for a month. Sean was a little paranoid about us losing it, so we hid spilt it up into small hunks and hid it around Clari’s apartment. I took a little and hid it my apartment too. Luckily no feral’s been nesting there and no other Sector 7 member has taken it over. I stay there at night, usually. Sean and Des crash here. Des has been trying to work Clari’s machines, but it doesn’t really work out the best. He’s just not old enough to figure out. But then again, neither is Sean, our resident twenty-five year old.

We have been working out plans for everything for about a week now. Take the card, and get the hell out of here. Since Clari’s gone, there is no reason for us to stay. Neither Sean nor I had the heart to tell Desmond. We didn’t want to hurt him. Sean walked back in the room.

“Well. Tomorrow’s the day, eh?” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Yeah. Tomorrow’s the day,” I chuckled as well. We sat there in the junk of Clari’s garage. The lamps were dying down. Silence permeated the room, both of us lost in our thoughts.

“Mind if I crash here tonight?” I asked Sean suddenly. He turned to look at me. “I have all my stuff for the move, so…..”

“Sure, man. Let’s just hope that Desmond takes it well,” he slumped down in his spot and started to doze.

I walked around the garage, turning all the lamps off. I felt my way back to my spot and curled up for the night.

Chapter 2 Part 2

Creeeeeeeaaaaaaak.

Crunch.

My eyes flew open. It was early morning, as I felt semi-rested. I looked around in the darkness, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom. Sean was fast asleep on his pile, and the door to the rest of the area was still shut. Plus, Des knew his way around here.

There! The door to the outside was open. A shape stood in the doorway looking at its feet. It was hunched over and seemed to be dressed in rags.

Wonderful. A feral. I frowned, and pulled out the gun that I had stolen from the hideout so long ago. Back when Clari was just drunk from Clubo Arcano. Sean and I had brought what little ammo the hideout had left after it was ransacked. Enough for about five full clips of ammo. Not including the full clip I have in the gun from before. I took aim at the ceiling and fired a warning shot. Sean grunted in his sleep.

The feral jumped back a pace and stared inside. Its yellow-glazed eye’s looked at me with curiosity. Not fear, but curiosity. I fired again.

It jumped forward this time, running headlong into some of the junk in the garage. Sean started and pulled out his own pistol. He stood, bleary eyed and took a stance next to me.

“Wh-wh-what is it?” he yawned.

“A feral that’s not afraid of us. It’s not growling either,” I told him my simple observations. While doing this the feral stood up and stepped over the pile of debris. I froze in shock. It calmly, logically thought out a solution to its problem and was actually attempting to move as quietly as possible to get to us. I kept the gun trained at its chest as it came closer and closer.

When it was ten feet away, I shouted, “Stop or I’ll put a bullet in your chest! That will kill you!’ Sean angled his pistol to the creature’s chest as well.

It stopped and turned its head as if it were confused on why we would want to harm it. Then it spread its mouth wide and revealed shiny green teeth. They glowed in the dark, giving us a florescent view of the beast’s face. It was an ordinary face, but with stiches near where the shadow’s ended, about where his eyes were.

“I come in peace, Alfred and Sean,” a deep bass spoke in perfect Common. I fainted on the spot.