She looked at the screen in front of her and sighed. It had started out as a bad day and definitely had not progressed as she had expected. Usually work was enough to keep her mind occupied, but today there was something different in the air. She nursed her wandering consciousness, flicking through the various screens at her terminal. The display panel switched dully in its usual monotonous way. There was nothing to report.

She cast her gaze across the room, catching the attention of one Marshall Krecker as she did so. He was a veteran agent, or so she had been told. Their eyes met briefly and she smiled sweetly at him. She wasn’t in the habit of interacting much with her fellow co-workers, but she afforded herself this little indiscretion.

Marshall smiled back. His thin lips curving in an innocent, yet entirely predictably jovial manner. She blushed ever so slightly at the older man’s grin and retired her gaze to the monitor in front of her.

The room housed around twenty five agents, some were highly experienced, some juniors. This particular division of the Global Temporal Enforcement Programme, or G-TEP as it was more popularly known, was primarily tasked with investigating early warnings of temporal disturbances.

The desks were arranged in sets of four, each set was termed a team, and each team assigned to a different task. Within each team there were usually three classes of agents. A veteran always acted as the team lead, followed by two senior agents and assisted by a junior. Runi just happened to be one of those juniors.

She stared out across the room. It was difficult to imagine this room being used for anything other than an important government operation of some kind. Maybe it was the huge banks of displays that adorned each wall, maybe it was the miles upon miles of cables, hidden in the ceiling, which Runi had seen when the maintenance team had left one of the tiles out of place one day. It could also have been the armed guards that stood protecting the two average sized entrances to the room.

The doors were closed, coated in a sea of light which brimmed out from the door frames. The opening was shaped like a church arch, majestic and yet somehow sinister in its current setting. I wasn’t as if the building had been converted either, the arches had been in the original design of the building. Runi was sure she had heard the reasons for their inclusion in a far distant part of her memory, but recalling it would have meant effort, effort she just wasn’t prepared to employ right now.

One of the guards on duty jostled his weapon and body armour, but in the dim stillness of the room, only a faint murmur could be heard. Runi strained to see his face. The stillness of the room extended to the amount of light present. It was as if the room was petrified of upsetting its occupants, like it was being held prisoner in some kind of unholy land. The guard moved again, this time adding a small grunt to his otherwise semi-silent motion.

“You OK there Jack?” his partner asked.

The man nodded and grunted once more. He was in his early thirties Runi guessed, tall, moderately handsome, though she would never have admitted it, and with a crew cut that made his facial features seem all the more prominent.

As the guards settled, Runi looked back across her terminal to the stack of printouts she still had to go through. She was bored. It wasn’t as if the job wasn’t exciting, being part of a multi-national investigative force that commanded the very highest respect, maybe part of it was not being able to talk to anyone about her work.

Runi wasn’t in a relationship, she had no one special, yet something inside her wanted to share all of the secrets that she had witnessed on so many occasions. Though still junior in rankings, she felt confident that she could rise through the process of promotion and become a veteran, maybe even a field agent.

Her face smiled as she imagined the other juniors all saluting her in customary G-TEP style. She could very well be the next Mersen Calibro. Now there was a secret in itself. A target of practically every terrorist and hostile force the world over, Mersen had secluded himself inside the confines of the G-TEP HQ complex for many years. Runi wasn’t even sure he ever went out. The Global Commander of the G-TEP was one of the most feared and well respected members of their society, but his status paid a price.

Her mind jarred. Maybe she didn’t want to be the next Mersen after all. He never seemed happy, always carrying around a thick leather bound book like it was his best friend. He seemed a hard man, tough on the outside, with a hint of justice and a pinch of remorse.

As she moved her head past the monitor again something caught her eye, a flash of light, something a little out of the ordinary. She looked back again, but whatever it was that had been there on her panel, was long gone. She reached for the jog wheel, her fingers expertly finding and then gripping the tense black plastic.

The adrenaline started pumping through her. This was important. She had never been on the receiving end of a temporal echo before. She had heard others shout out in alarm at something which had appeared on their terminals for a brief instant, but then vanished. Runi had never had the pleasure. Today she had been blessed.

Her fingers carefully cradled the plastic device as her wrist rotated it, first slowly, then a little further. She had to be quick. Temporal echoes were not only rare, but they were exceedingly difficult to categorise. It could have been a level three, the size was about right, or even a feint level two. Unless she found it again, there was no way to be sure.

Temporal echoes. The name still rang through her as she recalled her first few days of training. The instructors had described them as remnants of the possibility of a disruption in the time frame, either in the future, or from the past. They were like ripples that darted across the universe. Many had tried to create devices to record the echoes, to capture them for categorisation and investigation, but the sheer volume of data produced was unstorable.

She wound the jog wheel back further and watched as the image of the steady waves flickered on her screen. She pressed a button on the terminal and a second set of information appeared, numbers twirling and whirring by in a sort of alien ritual. Runi exhaled and caught the attention of on of the seniors in her quad.

“Runi, what’s up?” called Jed.

She gritted her teeth. She was angry with herself for showing such an obvious outward sign that she was on to something. She had wanted to be sure she was staring at an echo, to even perform a rudimentary analysis of it, before calling in a senior to second her work.

“It’s nothing Jed,” she called back. The man looked across at her. He certainly wasn’t going to be dismissed so easily. He rose from his seat, but Runi was too quick for him.

“OK,” she gave in too easily, “mirror my terminal. I thought I saw something in and around the forth arbiter, but I could have been wrong.” Jed obliged by pressing a few buttons on his terminal before settling back down into his chair.

“How long ago Runi?” he asked gruffly.

She thought carefully about replying, “I don’t know,” she said, “a minute, maybe two?”

His voice suddenly exploded, offending the other occupants in the room, “Well which was it ya little snot, one minute or two?”

Her anger rose to match his, but she was able to control herself. Her fingers became stiff and she released the wheel to flick the stress from her finger tips in two definite movements.

A voice came from above. “That’s not going to help Jed,” said the floor commander. He had been listening to the conversation from the beginning and didn’t like the way that young Jed pressured the poor girl.

Jed snarled to himself as Runi smiled slyly. She didn’t get on well with Jed and with the other two members of the Quad out of the office, she hadn’t been looking forward to working through the rest of the day.

Her veteran, Skotes, always took Felicia with him. Some said they were engaged in a deep relationship, but to Runi, they just seemed to get along. She didn’t blame either of them one bit. Of course it did mean she was left to deal with Jed most of the time.

The floor commander was suddenly by her side, his hand already planted on the desk, holding up the rest of his gigantic body as he leaned over her shoulder to see the display. His breath was cold on her neck and made her feel more than a little uneasy. She bit her lip subconsciously and continued searching for the elusive echo.

“You’re moving too slowly,” shouted Jed from across the quad. “If you don’t hurry up you’re going to lose it.” His voice was cutting and hindered her concentration. Just who was he to be yelling at her anyway? Sure he was a senior but it wasn’t as if Jed had had an entirely clean career.

“Jed,” shouted the commander, “hold your tongue or I will most certainly relieve you of your current duties.” His voice was more like the growl of an angry bear than the speech of a six foot giant. The intended audience of the threat shrank back as the bear began to roar again.

“Runi, I want you to take point on this.” He was clear and decisive, unwavering in his decision to make the young girl step up to the table. “I want you to advise Jed on which angle to take. You work together,” he paused to look over a Jed, who was positively seething, “understand?” He raised his eyebrows as he did so, expecting some form of acknowledgement from Jed . The senior nodded and cowered back into his seat once more.

“Jed, take the left thirteen sub-arbiters, I’ll work up the rest of them.”

He nodded and the two of them continued the chase in silence whilst the rest of the team looked on in amazement at the struggle which had just been triumphantly won by the young agent.

In the tense atmosphere of the room she afforded herself a glance up and met with the eyes of Marshall who gave her a knowing wink and nod. She smiled back at him, it appeared she had been given a second chance.

Runi looked back down at the panel, as she did so the screen blipped again. Was this it? Had she found the echo? Her fingers twitched, thrusting the job wheel into a spat of reverse. She let the screen progress. Nothing. This was getting frustrating.

She felt hot, stressed, tense, and under more pressure than she had ever been in her life. Jed seemed to be taking it far more coolly than she did. He was flicking the jog wheel, tapping on the keys in a seemingly effortless manner. She started fretting. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if Jed found it first?

Something inside the man across the table picked up on her vulnerability and he pounced. Ripping into her authority like a savage animal.

“Runi, why can’t you just let me take the eastern side, I know it far better than you. You’re just a junior.” She ignored him. Nothing was going to deter her from doing the best she could. The commander, a one Geoff Porter, was still standing over her, she couldn’t be seen to show weakness at a time like this.

“Runi,” Jed began again, “This is ridiculous, you don’t know what you’re doing.” She focussed her eyes, reducing them to slits to eradicate any and all extraneous stimuli. Geoff said nothing. This was Runi’s time to shine, her time to show the seniors that she had what it took. She wasn’t just a lowly analyst, he knew that. The girl had great potential, but great potential was nothing unless she had the backbone to do something with it.

The screen blipped again and before Geoff could say anything she was already there, whipping the controls like a jockey on a horse.

A distortion appeared. In it’s current view the echo looked like the cross between a ribbon and a multicoloured contour map. It shimmered across the screen and then froze, as if something had altered the properties of space and time in its very presence.

The something had been Runi. She had paused the feed and hit the sequence of buttons to capture the wave. Jed was still looking intently at his screen as she said plainly and simply, “I got it Jed.”

He looked up with a real hint of malice in his eyes. Not only had she humiliated him in from of the entire floor, but she had also gained herself a pretty large bonus for spotting the echo.

“Well done Runi,” said the commander, “now classify it.” The rest of the floor continued with their work in a mutated silence. Runi looked at the screen and used the multitouch panel to trace outlines and gather measurements of the distortion. Her fingers left traces of moisture on the display. She was nervous. She hadn’t noticed it, but her knee had been bouncing up and down now for the best part of three or four minutes.

The commander pulled up a chair beside her and sat down. He placed one of his gigantic hands on her still oscillating leg and brought it to rest. Runi sat bolt upright and looked at the commander.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “You handled that very nicely indeed. I knew you had it in you.”

“Thank you Sir,” she replied.

Jed rose from his chair in an explosion of rage, expelling the piece of furniture from behind him and landing it in the legs of another female member of the team. Not even thinking to apologise, Jed stormed off towards the southerly arch and exited the right wing of section A4.

After a brief mouthing of an apology to the unsuspecting female senior who had been so needlessly attacked, Runi reasserted her control over the data in front of her. Her mind was filled with the plethora of knowledge she had gained during her training. Her hands were a blur as she typed up notes, compared temporal signatures and cross referenced details with files from the last few years.

“It’s a level two distortion,” she finally concluded. Geoff had been preoccupied with staring at the assaulted senior. He had apologised to her audibly, but Runi hadn’t heard.

“Any sign of a signature?” he enquired.

She winced, looking closer at the screen, moving her head towards the glowing panel in front of her.

“I’d like to say for sure, but I can’t,” she started. She took a deep breath, turned to face the commander and spoke, “It looks like it begins with Theta-3-9, and ends in the Sigma band.”

In an instant his hand was on the back of her chair as he leaned in towards the screen. He was breathing even more heavily now and his shadow almost occluded the screen.

“Are you sure?” he asked her seriously.

“No,” she replied honestly, “I can’t say anything for sure, apart from the fact that is definitely ends in the Sigma range.”

He blinked twice before closing his eyes tight and squeezing, as if trying to erase a bad memory.

“On your feet agent,” he said briskly, rising from his hunched position. Runi stood, contrasting Jed’s earlier movements by her courteous care for the chair.

“Have I done something wrong?” she enquired. Her heart was racing. Had she made a wrong analysis? She was sure she had the remembered correctly but she couldn’t be too sure. There was just so much to account for, so many variables. She looked back across at the screen again. It looked right, Theta start, Sigma end, sure it was unusual, but it wasn’t a difficult signature to read. Her heart continued to pound and more adrenaline was pumped through her already worn nerves. What the commander said next would not calm her nerves in the slightest.

“You’ve done nothing wrong Runi, but I’m afraid we have to go now?” he said sternly.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he began to walk away, almost already at the door.

“To see the Global Commander,” he replied, “You just earned yourself an audience with Mersen Calibro.”

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1. Will there be a sequel?
2. On attachment to characters

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.

1. On Zane…
2. On Ruben…
3. Are there any bits of you in the book?
4. On the writing process

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 4

1. Did the story line change?
2. On Kiele…

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 3

1. On Time Travel…
2. On Sci Fi…
3. Did you consider the dark nature of the start may be a turn off?

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 2

Though Emblem Divide is over, please watch the commentaries, you may find a nice surprise in there There will be two bonus chapters later, which may give a further insight into the world of Emblem and even a sneak peak inside the G-TEP HQ. I’m hoping to record two of the songs mentioned in ED, Colour Me Stupid and You Ain’t Seen Me Till I’m Dead and upload them to the site. There’s also the possibility of some exclusive artwork, for which I need to find someone to paint me some extraodinary scenery. There’s also the idea of producing an audio book, and I need to post later about how printed copies will work.

In closing, keep spreading the word. You now know the ending and as so, are much better placed to promote the book to others. The best decision we made in the team was to share Emblem Divide with the community. Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

He sat there, reading. The sun was warm and the beach was beautiful. Through the waving of the palm trees he occasionally felt a burst of sunlight on his legs, his torso and head being completely in shade. This was just what he needed. He picked up the drink from his side and sipped it slowly. It wasn’t alcoholic, just cool, refreshing his senses and filling him with a feeling of relaxation.

The man hadn’t taken a holiday in years, previous events had meant he just couldn’t afford it. Now, finally he was able to give his family something they had desperately needed; a nice long vacation, somewhere hot, sunny, and relaxing.

Over in the water two teenagers were splashing each other. The young boy ran towards the the girl, hands cupped into the water, spraying her as he did so. She screamed in delight. ‘They were having way too much fun,’ he thought. His train of thought was broken by a voice to his left.

“So, did it turn out how you expected?” The author of the words was a woman in her early forties. In her youth she had been ferociously beautiful and now? ‘Time hadn’t stolen anything from her’, thought Oken as he looked at his wife. Jay smiled.

“I guess so,” said Oken. “Truth is, this part was never in the plan.” He smiled back. “I’m just glad it turned out how it did, never mind what was intended to happen.” He had realised there had been no point in trying to shape the future to be a carbon copy of what he had been told, or even to try to carve specific aspects. Things would happen how they happened. Ruben of course would have argued differently, and often did. ‘God has a plan for all of us’ was his favourite saying. It wasn’t that Oken didn’t agree, he just wasn’t ready to give up full control of his life just yet.

The teenagers continued playing in the beautifully clear water in front of him. The girl had managed to get the boy into a head lock and was now busy dunking his face into the water, amidst much splashing and shouting from her victim. Oken laughed and pointed to the quarrelling pair. They seemed to get along so well.

“Way to go Kiele,” he shouted, his hands amplifying his voice. Her likeness to the girl he had seen only briefly so many years ago was uncanny. One in a million chance. Perhaps not chance, Ruben wouldn’t have called it chance. It was as if that face, that beautiful girl, was meant to be on this planet, no matter what the events the time-frame threw in her way. ‘Maybe that’s how it really worked,’ thought Oken, ’some people are just destined to be here.’

Even more uncanny was the name of the young boy. He lifted his head from the water and started objecting. He yelled back across to Oken “Why do you always have to take her side Mr Brown?” The man smiled. Zane Krecker, who really was a carbon copy of the boy who had changed his future was standing, or rather half drowning in front of him. The two teenagers had met at school and had instantly fallen in inexplicable love. Oken shook his head. He still couldn’t quite believe it, but it seemed God really wanted those two to be together. Had it really been God who had changed the past? Had his influence changed everything? In his mind, the face of Ruben nodded emphatically.

He picked up the book and read a few more lines of the story. He had never been one for fiction, a flight of fancy, he preferred to call it. He saw little point in indulging oneself into an alternative reality for such a short period of time. No, if Oken wanted to read, it had to be an entire series of books, something to really get his teeth in to.

The cover of the book was worn, where it had been read multiple times. Shortly after their marriage, Jay had given Oken a set of books as a gift. She had said that she hoped they would change his life forever. They had. He had become more assertive thought reading the tale, and they had become closer.

Oken had told her everything about the past, the future, the present. Everything. It had been difficult and to this day, he was still unsure whether she treated it as truth, or fiction. He knew the truth. It was his legacy. She had told him to write it all down, one day it would make a fascinating story for the kids. He had obliged, albeit reluctantly.

The two teenagers were now running up to him. The boy first, followed by the girl. She threw her body forward and rugby tackled him, landing inches from Oken’s chair and spraying him and his drink with sand. He glared at the boy with eyes of fire.

“Why is it always my fault?” Zane screamed, smiling. It was a running joke between the pair. Everything that happened was his fault, never the good, always the bad. He was happy though. He had found someone wonderful, someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Oken could see that in his eyes. The pair were truly perfectly matched, much like he and Jay.

“Because you’re always the one doing stupid things,” Oken said. It wasn’t meant as a malicious comment, and the tone of his voice echoed the sentiment.

Kiele nodded, “He does have a point Zane.” The young boy screwed up his face in disgust and his girlfriend released him from her grip. He got up and dusted himself off, showering Oken and Jay with yet more sand.

“Are you trying to be annoying?” he asked the boy in jest.

“No dad, it just comes naturally to him.”

They all laughed and Oken realised how good it felt to be called Dad. Kiele had been a blessing, and not even in disguise. She had changed the once harsh figure of a man, into a loving father. His life with Jay had been perfect. He had returned to university, but this time to teach, his course on temporal mechanics being one of the most popular in the construct.

In the absence of Oken’s attack at the Zone, the government hadn’t reacted in the same vain. The G-TEP still existed, and were more ruthless than ever, but overall life was beginning to get better for everyone.

“I’m just going to get a drink,” said Jay, “anyone else want one?”

“I’ll come with you,” said Kiele, and the pair walked off towards the resorts bar. The beach was beautiful and the ability to just pop twenty metres away for a nice cool drink was a definite advantage.

“I’ll have another,” said Oken, lifting the sand filled glass, “As mine seems to have suffered some kind of accident.” He looked at the boy who cowered away. He chuckled again. “Lighten up kid.”

Zane’s face changed. He looked down at Oken and made a face as if he was eating a toffee, a particularly sticky toffee at that. He was looking for words, but found none. Eventually he settled for the simplest option.

“Mr. Brown can we talk?” Suddenly Oken’s face changed too, to one of concern, one of a serious nature.

“Sure kid.”

“Mind if we walk and talk?” Oken smiled and got up out of his chair. He placed his hands in his pockets and began to walk off in the direction that Zane was already taking.

The two of them walked in silence for at least ten metres before Zane stopped. The sun was past its highest point now and had begun its lonely descent across the sky. The shadows were taught and the hue a subtle red. Zane looked at the man who he already felt was like a father to him. His real parents were still alive, and though they loved him greatly, they had been far too preoccupied with his little brother lately. Zane understood. He was only twelve, and needed far much more looking after than he ever did.

“Mr. Brown,” he started. Oken held up his hand.

He spoke in a slow but caring way, “Please, Oken. Call me Oken.”

“Oken,” the boy started again, “You know I love your daughter very much.” The man nodded. “And, well, I kinda feel like I want to spend the rest of my life with her. You know what I mean?”

Oken’s expression changed once more. A Frisbee flew between the pair, narrowly missing Oken’s face. He looked across to see if his daughter had been the culprit. He looked at her sarcastically, before returning to the boy.

“Only kinda feel?” he asked.

“OK,” said Zane, “I totally feel it.” He paused, looking down at his shoes. “Man this is so much harder than it ought to be.”

The wise man spoke once more, “Just go for it kid.” He already had an inkling of what the boy was going to ask. Zane and Kiele had been dating for years, and the time seemed to be approaching for them to want to branch off on their own.

“I was hoping that you may possibly consider consenting at the request of mine to perhaps take your daughter’s hand in marriage.” The sentence was long and the boy had paused several times throughout. Oken looked thoughtful. He turned back at the boy. He knew how much he loved Kiele, and he also knew how much his alter ego had been through. It wasn’t even an alter ego, more of a shadow of the boy standing before him.

“Zane,” said Oken frankly, “You’d do anything for her wouldn’t you?”

The boy nodded. “I’d die protecting her, you know I would.” The man nodded slowly, breathing in deeply as he did so.

“I know you would son,” he said. He put his arm round the boy and looked out over the ocean, the sun was bright and it almost burnt his eyes. He squinted. “I know what you’re capable of and, I have to say, I can think of no one better to protect my daughter than you.”

Zane looked at Oken talking as he finished his sentence. Sometimes the boy found it impossible to comprehend how genuine this man really was. He couldn’t quite believe his response. Though he had been hoping, and praying, that Mr. Brown would say yes, he still didn’t quite believe it. It was going to take a final confirmation.

“Is that a yes?” he asked slowly and cautiously.

“No,” said Oken, “It’s not just a yes, it’s an irrevocable yes. I wish you two all the happiness in the world.” The boy, tears in his eyes hugged the big man. “Knock it off,” he said, “Go do it already.”

Zane looked up at him, slightly confused.

“If this isn’t the perfect place and time to ask a woman to marry you, then I don’t know what is.” The boy smiled and felt around inside his pocket for something. He suddenly became frantic and Oken lifted a small object from his pocket and placed it in Zane’s free hand. “I guess you’re looking for this,” he said.

The ring box had fallen out when he had been tackled earlier, and Oken had been quick to disguise it. He had known Zane was planning to give her a ring, marriage was predictable. The kid smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

Oken turned and walked away, with Zane staying behind. When he reached Kiele, she asked him, “And what were you two talking about?” Oken sat in his chair and sipped his new drink.

“I think that’s something you’d better ask your boyfriend about.” he said dryly. Kiele poked out her tongue at her father and walked off in the direction of Zane. Jay, now lying down again on the reclined chair looked across at her husband, shielding her eyes from the light.

“So what were you talking about?” she asked.

Oken looked at the boy who was now knelt down on one knee. He tapped his wife on the shoulder and pointed at the pair. “Say hello to our new son-in-law to be,” he said.

Jay cooed happily at the proposal taking place. Kiele suddenly flipped out and flung her arms around Zane’s neck before kissing him, almost knocking him over.

“Remember when we were like that?” she asked.

A voice came from behind them. “Whatd’ya mean when,” it said gruffly. It was Ruben. He threw a book down onto Oken’s stomach. “I read it,” he said.

“And?” asked Oken.

“Yah, it was OK,” he said, “thought of a name yet?”

“I was thinking Emblem Divide,” said Oken.

Ruben nodded slowly before crouching down between the couple. “It’s OK I guess,” he said. The young pair at the waters edge were still locked in embrace. “Forgive me for being a little bit of a killjoy, but aren’t those two acting even worse than usual?”

“That’s because they’re now engaged.”

Ruben slapped Oken on the arm. “Congrats my man.”

Oken nodded.

“Oh by the way Okie,” he said, “You gotta change the end line. It really stank.”

“Whatd’ya mean?” said Oken. “I thought it was really good.”

“Yeh right,” said his friend, “And then he woke up and realised it had all been a dream.”

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As he walked to the Zone for what would be the last time, his mind was set on completely different things. For a start he had a love interest now. He didn’t know entirely who Zane had been talking about, but the pretty young blond seemed like a good place to start.

Oken had never had time for relationships, he had never had time for anyone other than himself. Or Ruben. Though he felt bad for thinking it, Ruben was fairly low maintenance. He didn’t have to be anyone different around the man. Ruben accepted him for who he was, a slightly kooky, rather odd, obsessive warrior.

The walk filled him with more excitement than he had felt carrying Bethany to her first showing, but of course Oken didn’t know that. A part of him wished he had saved the boy and girl. Kiele and Zane, he had to remember those names. Deep down inside though, he knew he had made the right decision.

The ambulance had cleared away the body of Jessie, before Oken had left the second time. He looked down at his watch, a boring, cheap old model from a local shop. Maybe after the battle he would go and visit his mother, make amends like he always told himself he would.

The air seemed warmer than before, full of hope, anticipation, new beginnings. A part of him wanted to skip to the Zone but he quickly came to his senses. What a stupid idea. As he crossed the park, the birds twittered and sang sweet songs to him. He stopped. Why was he going to the zone again?

The harsh reality of his world fell back into place. He had to. If he missed a fight, he’d be found and most likely killed. Then there was Jay. In his mind she was the overwhelming reason for going. Death he could handle, it was simple, you just lay there motionless. Jay was something different, exciting, a complete unknown.

In all honesty he was a little concerned that Zane had gotten his details wrong. Was there really going to be such a beautiful woman there waiting for him? He smiled to himself. It was beyond thinking. It was fantasy. His life could take on a whole new meaning, he didn’t have to be shackled by the years of hatred and pain he had suffered in the war, at the behest of his parents.

He realised something; he’d hit something big this time. He had made a choice. All this time, he had imagined it something predetermined. All this time he had believed that the events of his past had made him the way he was. Sure they had shaped him, but it was his choice to decide who he was. He had made the decision to make Bethany. He had also made the decision to destroy her. It had taken a visit from a boy from the future to show him that.

The Zone door was only a few metres away and Oken saw Ruben up ahead. Zane hadn’t given him too many details about his brother, but Oken had been able to fill in most of the blanks himself. He had caused his friend unimaginable suffering. Not this time.

“Okie,” said Ruben in a cheery tone, “something special planned for tonight?”

“You could say that,” he said dryly. Ruben began a little dance of joy singing ‘yeh yeh yeh yeh yeh’. Oken’s next words shattered his illusion. “It’s going to be my final fight.”

Ruben stopped dead and looked at him. “Where the hell did this come from?” he said.

“I had a visit from a friend,” said Oken. He changed tact, Ruben was obviously unimpressed by his previous statement. “Ruben, you ever get the feeling you’re meant for something more than this?”

“All the time,” said Ruben putting an arm round his friends shoulder, “all the time. It’s called guilt and it’s very hard to……” His sentence was cut short by a swift slap to the back of his head. He winced in jestful pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“I’m serious,” said Oken. “This just isn’t what I want any more.”

His friend nodded. “You don’t know how many times, I’ve thought the same.” He paused, “I’ll let them know, you want it kept secret I take it?” Oken nodded. The last thing he wanted was for news of his final fight to hit the stands. It always made things so much more difficult. He had seen it before on countless occasions.

“Thanks Ruben.”

Oken walked into the Zone and the familiar feelings of aggression and anticipation came flooding back. This time however, they seemed out of character. He had changed. The fury that once fuelled him, that he once revelled in, was now an annoyance. The dancing had commenced and people were busy gyrating their bodies to the whim of the pied piper in the corner of the room.

* * *

Oken hadn’t spent any time in the chiller that evening. Ruben had informed him that his fight would be against Yaz. Apparently the fighter had requested it himself. Lucky guy thought Oken. If I’d have brought Bethany along, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. He breathed deeply.

Looking across the stands he saw the spectators beginning to make their way to their seats. This fight wasn’t going to be easy. Yaz was good. Very good. As he scanned the stands subconsciously, one particular young woman grabbed his attention. The pretty blonde in the third row from the back, second one in. Could that be her? Could that be Jay?

He sat down in the stands, totally uninterested in the fight which had raged below. Amidst the shouting of the crowds, she seemed to be so peaceful. Sitting there, writing notes, occasionally sweeping her hair back with her pencil. Oken was feeling something he never had before. He was completely infatuated with her.

Oken hadn’t realised that the fight below had finished. The bouncers were busy dragging the corpses away and Ruben was making his way over to his friend.

“This is it,” he said as he approached Oken. He held out a hand for his friend to shake. “Make it a good one.”

Oken smiled. He didn’t even know what that meant any more. His desire to fuel the crowd with his exploits was well and truly past him. He had a new goal now, to be happy, to change the world for the better. He looked across at Jay who was coincidently looking at him. All of a sudden he became shy and turned away blushing. What the hell was this feeling?

The retiring man walked past her as he made his way down the stairs to the floor below. It felt quite alien to him now. So cold and deathly. He was glad he hadn’t watched the previous fight, judging by the blood, it had been particularly messy.

He scanned the walls as he took up position on the stage. The crowds were jumping and cheering now. Oken had no weapon. No visible weapon anyway. Just what was he planning? Jay was writing feverishly in her notebook. The screens behind the platform were, currently all centred on him. He clicked his neck left and then right.

Yaz made his way down on to the platform too. ‘Someone’s smiling down on you today,’ thought Oken. This was going to be without doubt, the hardest fight he had ever had in his life. He realised though, that he had something he imagined Yaz didn’t; purpose. He knew he wanted to exit this place alive for a reason. He had things to do, people to see, history to make. Did Yaz?

His opponent started twirling his staff in his ritualistic dance. Oken smiled. A staff against hand to hand. This was going to be so interesting. As long as Oken could stay lightening fast, he stood a chance. Not a great one, but a chance none the less.

Several of the spectators had started banging on the glass now and a full scale chant was beginning. Oken couldn’t quite make out the words. It seemed more like a jumble to him. Yaz couldn’t make them out either and the two fighters exchanged confused glances before chuckling to each other.

There was no real animosity between the pair. Yaz had merely requested the fight to improve his standings. He wanted to be where Oken was. Beating the man would put him in a prime position, and to be honest, out of all the things in the world, it was what he wanted more than anything else.

The music began thinning now. Laying the ground work for the fight ahead. Oken’s mind ran through a few attack-block scenarios. Fighting a staffed opponent was hard at the best of times, but Yaz was fast and skilful to boot, plus Oken only had the hands God had given him.

As he played through yet another three or four scenarios he almost missed it when the announcer screamed that all important word.

GO!

* * *

The staff hurt. Though Yaz hadn’t been as brutal as some of the other fighters, attaching nails, sandpaper or other destructive objects to the ends, the force of the staff hitting his skin was damn painful. He defended another onslaught from his opponent. The fight was not going his way.

It wasn’t an opinion he shared, alone, Jay was feeling the same way, as were half the spectators. ‘Come on Oken, he ain’t half the fighter you are’ shouted one man behind Jay. She noted it down, it may come in useful later.

The older fighter did indeed look out gunned and out classed. His heart just wasn’t in it any more and as Yaz rained down blow after blow, his mind cleared and he prepared himself for the end.

Then that face came to him. Kiele. His daughter. He had seen her in pain. She was looking at him, telling him to get up. Asking around her why her father was such a loser. ‘You’re just like Jessie’ she yelled. ‘Isn’t he?’ She turned around, apparently asking the opinion of others around her, but there was no one else there.

Suddenly he was filled with rage, vision or subconscious, he wasn’t going to let them be right. He opened his eyes fully and saw Yaz about to rain down yet another blow on the poor fighters chest. With expert precision he rolled to the side, trying to keep his feet in the same position as much as possible. As Yaz turned mid stream, Oken pulled in a leg and fired his foot at the man’s shin.

Yaz’s left leg flew out from under him with such force that his entire body rotated and fell to the ground. Yaz shook his head and blinked a few times. How had Oken done that? A few moments ago he had been lying on the floor, receiving the beating of a lifetime. Yaz had been enjoying it so much, and it had been so easy, that he had turned to the crowds and lifted a hand to get them to cheer all the louder.

Now he was on the floor and Oken was all of a sudden on his feet. He appeared to have some kind of secret weapon, what was it? Oken looked up at Jay and smiled. She saw it and looked behind her. Who was he smiling at?

Yaz picked himself up and Oken allowed him some time to dust himself off. It was odd how often fighters in the Zone actually did that. It was almost like a time-out. Yaz nodded to Oken. He was ready once more. At least he thought he was.

Oken ran towards Yaz and Yaz ran towards Oken. Yaz pulled back his staff, ready to thwack his opponent with the end, stinging the skin, but Oken was ready for it. As the staff flew through the air, looking for its target, the target evaded and landed a punch in Yaz’s side.

The crowd cheered. This was turning out better than they had expected. It had seemed as if Oken was about to roll over and give up, but now they had a real fight on their hands. Yaz attempted to reign blow after blow onto the body of Oken Brown but his mastery seemed to have fallen on a deaf figure.

Oken was having none of it. The staff came round once again and this time Oken let it hit his side, tensing his muscles to avoid the pain before looping his arm round it and locking it into place. In one swift motion he ran up into the air, using Yaz’s body as stepping stones, and slid his right foot down the staff, crushing Yaz’s fingers as he did and making his opponent lose his most valuable asset.

Now it was Oken’s turn. He had never fully appreciated the staff as a weapon, now he could see its benefits. He teased Yaz a little, slapping him in various parts of his body, whilst the other fighter tried in vain to stem his attacks. Oken slung the end of the staff into Yaz’s left knee and then masterfully spun to do the same to his right.

Yaz dropped to his knees momentarily, before jumping up to his feet again. It wasn’t going to go down like this. He was going to defeat Oken. In truth they were equally matched. Had Oken been accompanied by Bethany, Yaz wouldn’t have stood a chance. In his current state however, Oken now had a significant advantage.

Oken’s opponent danced around, changing his stance to more of a boxer. He made a few rudimentary jabs, which Oken blocked with the staff. Mr Brown looked a little clumsy using the staff, which was the one discipline he had never really trained in. He was used to swords, but somehow, he hadn’t felt the need to bring a weapon into the ring. This fight was all about destiny. If he won, he would start a new life, one without violence, one without hate, and hopefully one including Jay. His mind hadn’t even entertained the idea of losing.

With all his strength, Oken spun the staff round once in the air above his head, missing Yaz completely. The young fighter grinned, but his glee was short lived. Oken’s staff continued through one revolution, before changing angle, like a helicopter rotor blade. The very tip of the staff swung forward and hit Yaz in the knee again. He yelled out in pain and the crowd went wild.

Jay, who had been watching Oken’s mastery was impressed. She had expected the fighter to be sporting another new sup-hum device. Instead he had chosen to fight bare knuckled, something almost unheard of, bar the newbie fights. He had something to prove. Something to show to the entire audience.

The young girl was beginning to like Oken more and more. She had been following his career with greater intensity lately. There was something about him. Something different. He seemed to be fighting for a reason other than winning today. She liked it. It was exciting. Jay was secretly hoping she could get an exclusive interview with him after the fight. Something inside her told her he was going to win.

After the impact, Yaz dropped to one side again. He hadn’t kept his guard up. Oken had struck at the same point twice and now Yaz was paying for it. As he tried to extend his good leg fully again to bring himself to a standing position, Oken did what Yaz feared most. The staff spun around to the other side of his body and thwacked against his opposite knee. The pain was excruciating and once again Yaz was on his knees.

The crowd were cheering, pushing Oken forward, and for a second, the fighter seemed to be back in the game, forgetting his earlier promise of retirement and retreat. He turned his body to one side and very quickly let out a swift kick at his opponents chest, but Yaz saw it coming and began to bring his hands in.

It was only now that Oken saw a secret weapon. Something he had never seen Yaz use before. In previous bouts, Oken had noticed Yaz wearing some kind of wrist bands. They looked fairly ordinary, and only now did Oken see what they really were. They were a safety net, a fighter’s last resort. His hands were now folded back and from his wrist bands protruded two beautifully crafted blades. So sharp, so thin, that they were almost invisible in the chaos that was the Zone. However, Oken saw them.

In almost slow motion he watched as the blades sliced through the air, getting closer and closer to his ankle. This would be Yaz’s first true offence in a while. ‘Not today’, thought Oken. He purposefully dropped his foot to the floor, leaving Yaz a little confused and spun round, catching the poor man with a foot in the side of his head.

Yaz closed his eyes and blinked hard. The pain was getting to him now and he couldn’t think clearly. His only though at that moment was of obscure household objects. They flashed through his mind one after the other. Why? He didn’t know, his mind was playing tricks on him. His mind was damaged. He couldn’t think clearly at all. It was all over. His mind and body gave up simultaneously and he slumped to the floor.

On hitting the hard surface of the floor, he was almost brought to. In a snap instant his mind reconfigured itself and was once again whole. He looked up at Oken. The man was standing proud, but not revelling like he used to. There was something different about him now. His shirt ripped in several places, made it look as if he had participated in a bar room brawl. But there was no blood. This man was a winner for sure. Yaz had lost, unequivocally. His mind went fuzzy once more and the loser lost consciousness.

The crowds were really jumping now. Screaming from the tops of their voices. It was a clear victory. They knew who they loved, and they loved Oken. As he bowed to them as a mark of respect, the announcer broke the news that this had been Oken’s last fight. The fighter was a little nervous, no one got a decent reception on leaving the Zone. His would be no different he was sure.

He closed his eyes. The noise was deafening, but it wasn’t the booing he had expected, it was a subtle cheer. It seemed as though the crowds were really proud of him. He looked down at the crumbling figure of Yaz. He wasn’t sorry for winning, but he hoped the Zone wouldn’t terminate the loser of the battle, like they always seemed to. He had liked Yaz, this last fight had been one to remember for sure.

The Zone’s owner rushed down the stairs and walked towards Oken. He was carrying a bottle of champagne; a thank you for his years of service to the establishment. Oken smiled and took the bottle. It was expensive champagne. Now to start his new life. He looked up into the spectator stands, and saw the girl he had been fighting for. She was sat there, writing away, her mind in a completely different place to the others, but she was smiling.

Oken walked away from the fight with his hands held high. His foot steps felt lighter as he walked across the stone cold killer of a floor. Dust sprayed from each step and his once jet black shoes, now sported a definite grey look. As he reached the stairs, the crowds had already begun to pour down onto the platform floor restricting his movement like the viscous ether of time. Pushing, shoving, pulsating. They had been privy to a good fight and they had loved it.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Oken took a moment to breathe. The crowds were running past him now and there were only a few left in the stands. Of course Jay was still there, writing feverishly in her notebook. He walked past her without saying a word, stopped and turned. Her hair looked so soft. Was she really destined to fall in love with him? He leaned over so that his mouth was inches from her ear. Through the harsh sounds of the Zone, only she heard his voice.

“How about an exclusive interview?”

Download: Chapter 0-50 (everything up to current chapter) Chapter 50 (just the current chapter)

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• 17:30 – Release Chapter 50
• 18:30 – Release Epilogue
• 19:00 – Thank you post
• 19:30 – Release Video Commentary 1
• 19:45 – Release Video Commentary 2
• 20:00 – Release Video Commentary 3
• 20:15 – Release Video Commentary 4
• 21:00 – Bonus Chapter 1
• 22:00 – Bonus Chapter 2

Excited? I sure am

Zane left the building confused and alone. His dreams had been crushed. Oken had refused to even consider his request and he was more than a little angry. It was after all Oken’s fault. He had been the one who had created a temporal weapon in the first place. He was the one who had used it in the Zone. Shouldn’t he be the one to fix everything?

The air had gotten even colder now and Zane was glad he was wearing the blazer. It had seemed like a stupid idea at first, but now he was beginning to see the benefits. He adjusted the collar and flicked it up to obtain maximum protection from the wind.

Zane couldn’t have been in Oken’s apartment for long, but already people had begun to leave the street for their houses. It was getting late. Zane watched as a woman with a small child tried desperately to persuade the little one that it was time to go home. Evidently there was something inside one of the shops that the little brat wanted, for it was hanging off her arm like an unwanted extension. The woman was shaking her arm, trying to dislodge the attention, but it all seemed to be in vain.

The slower he walked, the more natural it seemed. It was almost uncanny. This place wasn’t his home, not in time anyway, but he felt happier here than he had ever felt at home. He shifted his mind set once more.

Kiele, where the heck was she? He knew she wasn’t at Oken’s, he had just been there after all. Jay’s? He had no idea where that was. All at once his mission was beginning to feel a little fruitless, he would just have to wait for her to turn up at the accident site and hope that he could prevent her death.

He hadn’t noticed Oken leave the building behind him and jog the few steps it took to catch him up. The older man had felt sorry for the boy. He believed his story wholeheartedly, but he had seen something in the boy he hadn’t liked. He had seen a reflection of himself.

The woman had finally gotten the small child to see some form of reason and the two of them pushed past Oken as he got closer to Zane.

“Zane,” he shouted. The boy didn’t turn round. His brain had inadvertently come to the conclusion that nobody here would know him, and so had ignored all utterances of his name.

Oken tried again, “Hey Zane.”

The boy turned round. “If you’re going to tell me to get lost, save you breath,” said Zane, “I’m already going.”

“I was actually going to apologise.”

It was the first time Zane had really felt that there was something human about this man. His emotions had seemed so robotic in the apartment, yet now, he seemed far much more genuine.

“I’m sorry I went crazy at you.” His voice was almost a whisper, almost a passing thought in the cold breeze. “ I can’t imagine how mixed up everything must seem for you right now.”

Zane hadn’t stopped walking and right now Oken was trailing behind him by a few feet. The master was carrying the black holdall. He was still going to the Zone, he had no choice on that detail, but he had decided he was still going to use his weapon also. He just wanted to make peace with the boy.

“I do have a question for you though.” Zane stopped and turned to face Oken. The man standing before him could easily have been mistaken for a guy in their early forties. The grey hair made it so.

Oken smiled at him. Finally he had gotten the boys attention. A car zoomed past them, breaking the air as it did so and letting off a tired moan. Zane looked at him expectantly.

“When are you going to give it back?” he said. Zane was confused. What the hell was he talking about? Give what back? Was it some kind of cryptic message about control, power, love? What did the man mean? His mind conjured up scenarios and ideas, but nothing seemed to fit the context of the man’s description.

Zane shrugged and shook his head slightly. He had no idea what he was talking about. The inventor pointed at the watch on Zane’s wrist.

“My watch,” he said, “I presume you brought it back as proof of your jump and just forgot to give it to me.”

The watch? It wasn’t even his? He had studied the inscription many times, just as Kiele had. The watch had been a gift to Rob, not a particularly loving gift, but a gift all the same. He looked down at the watch and then back up into Oken’s eyes.

“Sorry pal,” he said candidly, “but this watch belonged to a guy named Rob before it was mine. It ain’t yours.”

“Ahh Rob,” said Oken chuckling, “you have no idea how much that name pains me.” He walked right up to Zane and put his arm around him. “Let me tell you a little story.” He started walking and it was all Zane could do but to start walking too.

A tramp with a small dog had decided to pick a fight with another tramp. It appeared to be a territorial dispute. Something about benches and papers. An unimportant detail in the presence of the current conversation.

They walked together slowly. Zane turning to look at the man’s face every few minutes. He was expecting him to being speaking any moment now. After a few minutes Oken didn’t disappoint. In truth, he had been listening to the tramps arguments, but he wouldn’t have ever admitted that.

“Rob was a name my parents sometimes called me,” he said. “Or more accurately, The Reverend Oken Brown, R O B.” Zane furrowed his brow and the man continued, “Whenever we had discussions about philosophical or current affairs issues, my father would always be dismayed at how black and white I saw the world. Always picking the side of the minority.”

The tramp match had broken up now, ending in a flurry of newspaper as the two parted. Electronic papers offered far better protection against the cold. For a start their circuitry emitted a slight warmth which acted like a mini electric blanket. Tape together a whole bunch of them, and you had yourself a real nice bedtime cover.

Oken continued his story, “My father used to say I was just like a priest, and so the name ‘Reverend Oken Brown’ stuck. They knew I hated it, but whenever I showed my humanitarian side he would always exclaim something like, ‘There goes the holy man again’.”

He seemed particularly saddened by this tale and Zane put a hand round his wrist, almost hiding the watch from view, as if by that simple act, he would be able to sooth Oken’s pain.

“On my nineteenth birthday, three days before they sent me off to war, they gave me this watch.” He sighed, “They couldn’t even let it go for one day.” He shook his head and smiled, “I never wore it once.” He looked at Zane. “Where did you find it?”

Zane hadn’t expected the last question. He was far too interested in this different side of Oken. During his time in the guys apartment, he had seemed so different, down to business, unemotional, almost unbreakable. Until Zane had stated his demands. Then he had seen the first change in this mighty character.

“A lady gave it to me.”

“Who?”

“Her name was Kaitlin.” He replied. Suddenly Oken’s eyes became slightly redder. “She had so many clocks and watches Oken, it was fantastic. It was like a shrine to time in there.”

“Is that so.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t for fear of actually crying. Oken held it in. He bit his lip.

“Something wrong?” offered Zane.

Oken hadn’t noticed that he had stopped walking and now, as they stood on the street corner, he turned his head and looked over at where the house of his mother stood. He hadn’t spoken to her since coming back from the war, and that had only been a short visit, just to let his parents know that their son was alive. Kaitlin had begged him to stay, but he had been too hurt by their disregard of his humanity.

“Kaitlin is my mother Zane.”

The boy hadn’t seen it coming, even though all the pieces had fit into place. He had been so preoccupied by the fact that Oken was beginning to sound truly human that he hadn’t had the mind to think it through properly.

Oken started walking again, driven by the urge to prove himself even more. He would go to the Zone. He would become the master he so desperately sought to be. Jay? Kiele? They meant nothing to him. He hadn’t met them. He asked one more question of Zane.

“Is she OK?”

Zane hadn’t expected that question either. Could he really tell Oken that his mother was dead? Perhaps it would change his mind, finally get him to see that changing the future mightn’t be such a bad idea?

“She was killed by Jessie.” He had neglected to mention it during his recollection of the events as in all honesty, he hadn’t even processed it fully. Jolie had told them about it earlier in the day. This crazy day. A day filled with despair, hope, sadness, love. His emotions had taken a real beating.

Oken let out a sigh. His mother. Though he hated what she had done, he still honoured her. In his numerous conversations with Ruben, the dark skinned fellow had always tried to get the two to reconcile their differences, quoting ‘Honour thy father and thy mother Oken.’ It had generally ended in them having a play fight, ruffling each other’s hair.

Something was pushing its way into Oken’s mind. He had the power to change this. He could make it all different if he wanted. The power of hindsight was his. He had never wanted to build a time machine. He had known it was too dangerous, plus he couldn’t quite get his head round some of the theories. He had so many questions for Zane. Could he really change everything? Should he?

Zane looked down at the watch and his face turned to one of horror, the time. It was. Time. Kiele. The accident. It would be happening any second now. Where was he? Where was she? He had been so completely absorbed by his conversations with Oken, that he had forgotten to check the time.

They rounded the next corner and instantly Zane recognised it. It was the street from the picture. Across the road there were more people than he expected. Milling, walking running. He searched for his sweetheart, his destiny. She wasn’t there. Why wasn’t she there?

Oken had noticed something was wrong. The boy had stopped this time, searching desperately for something across the street, Oken joined him in the search, just what was he looking for? Then all at once, Zane saw a flash of purple. He ran to the edge of the road and saw the same car hurtling down the road as he had seen in the picture, stationary, crushed.

Was it Kiele? He couldn’t tell from here. The flash of purple was visible again and she emerged. Like a body coming out of the water for air, her body exhumed itself from the crowds. Standing there at the edge, she looked one way, and forsaking the other, started to cross the street.

Zane leapt forwards, shaking off the grip which Oken had suddenly initiated. The car was getting closer, but he could make it. He could save her. Again. He would protect her. He was halfway across the road now but the driver of the car still hadn’t spotted him. Kiele wouldn’t have stood a chance. Zane’s senses honed. He heard nothing else but the thundering of his own footsteps as he made his triumphant journey across the asphalt.

Several passers by looked across at the running boy but nobody said a word. No one shouted look out, be careful, watch yourself. No one cared. He was an absent blur to them. A free spirit, doing whatever he wanted. If he wanted to get himself killed, let him, they thought.

Kiele still hadn’t noticed Zane as her second foot left the relative safety of the pavement. She was still looking in the wrong direction. Zane put his last ounces of energy into throwing his body forward, pushing her out of the way. He watched as she spun backwards, completely amazed at how she was now airborne. She hit the ground and the car hit him.

* * *

Kaitlin had been as hospitable as ever. She had let Kiele sleep for a while and had fed her up good with an assortment of cakes and biscuits. Kiele had enquired about Jay, but had gotten no reply. She hadn’t asked about Oken, figuring the woman had probably gotten bored of her questions.

The two of them had sat there in relative silence for a while, occasionally asking the other a simple and unobtrusive question. The room was different to how she remembered it. There were no clocks or watches and though Kiele desperately wanted to ask, the only remnant of the future remaining in the past was the Rumchum Exo 4. Just what was it with this particular piece?

Kiele felt it rude to ask, but couldn’t help herself. “That’s a nice watch,” she said.

Kaitlin laughed, “No dear,” she said, “that is an expensive watch. Bought for a young man as a peace offering.” Kiele was intrigued. Kaitlin hadn’t been so open about it before.

The young girl didn’t want to pry, but the questions kept on coming in her mind. “Who was it for?” she asked.

“My son.”

“Rob?” It was the next logical question, but it had been stupid of her. How could she have known the inscription on the back of the watch from all the way over there. She recovered quickly, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I took a look at the watch earlier when you went to find us something to eat.”

Kaitlin smiled at her. “It’s OK dear,” she said. “I’m not mad.”

Kiele smiled back embarrassed at her indiscretion. She wanted to ask more, but something stopped her.

“Rob wasn’t his real name,” the older lady said suddenly. “It was a cruel joke we used to use. Truth is if I hadn’t gotten that inscribed, things could have turned out quite differently.”

“What was his real name?” Kiele asked, sipping her tea.

“Oken,” she replied, “Oken Brown.”

The young girl could hardly contain her surprise. Unwittingly, unknowingly and completely unexpectedly she had stumbled upon a veritable diamond in the rough. This world had seemed so cruel, so brutal. Yet here was Kaitlin, loving, kind, caring, with exactly all the information she needed to meet her parents.

“He lives a few streets down,” she said, “but we haven’t spoken in years.” She took a gulp of tea. “If we see each other in the street, he nods to me, but nothing more.”

Kiele was genuinely saddened by her story. How could Oken be so cold? she thought. It just wasn’t fair. Of course Kiele didn’t know the full story. They never do.

* * *

The car rammed his body hard. Bones breaking, muscles being stretched far beyond their limits. Blood was expelled in huge bursts as it showered the car and a few of the passers by. He hadn’t stood a chance. His body had been well cared for, but it hadn’t been able to fight against the forces of a gigantic bullet.

The dead corpse flew through the air, scattering particles of dust and smoke, gracefully exiting the world in an arc of mortality. It hit the ground and rolled once, twice, three times, before coming to a halt in a crumpled mess.

It was unsightly. Blood poured from every crack in the body. The uneven street and slight incline, made the thick liquid embark on a parade down the street, shocking everyone who saw it. Mothers and fathers turned the children’s heads away, youngsters craned theirs to get a better view, some even laughing at the misfortune of the young man.

Kiele picked herself up and looked at her protector. It was a shock to her. She clasped her hand to her mouth. She had known the victim for so long, and now he was lying there dead with no hope of a reprise. In a weird way she was kind of happy.

Zane picked himself up and looked across at the crumpled heap of the younger version of the antagonist they had crossed paths with earlier that day. The victim was Jessie.

As Zane had leapt across the road, an unsuspecting Jessie had crossed it in much the same way Kiele had. Zane had managed to push Kiele out of the way, and land over the other side of the road, before the driver had really even noticed they were there.

Jessie hadn’t been so lucky. He didn’t have a protector looking out for him, a guardian angel, willing to give their life for him. He had crossed the road as just plain Jessie. He had been on his way to pick up something to eat before the show. Now he was going nowhere.

Suddenly Zane felt something deep inside. Something was wrong. Of course, without Jessie, the future couldn’t happen. He instinctively felt for the shield generator that he should have placed into his pocket before he left, that he had rehearsed placing into his pocket so many times.

It wasn’t there. It wasn’t there because he hadn’t put it there. There had been no spare power cells. There had been no point. It wouldn’t have been able to save him. He looked across at Oken. If there was one man who had a shield generator it would be him. Little did Zane know, Oken was already wearing one.

Oken watched the boy in slow motion as he clambered to his feet and began to shout out across the street. Everyone seemed to be already ignoring them. Kiele grabbed at his shirt and tugged. Something was hurting inside. Something was hurting deep inside. She hadn’t yet realised what all this meant. Was she feeling remorse for being pleased at Jessies demise.

“Oken,” shouted the boy, “Oken!” His words were inaudible to everyone except that one man. History had begun to adjust itself, ripping the boy and his girl from the time frame. Zane, back to his life, but Kiele? She had no future, she didn’t exist. Without Jessie, there was no Kiele.

She looked up at her protector, “Zane,” she cried heavily, “it hurts Zane, what’s wrong.” He realised his mistake. His mistake had been saving her. He’d been damned either way. Her destiny had been to die there. Either by the car, or by being saved.

He looked down at her, “Just a minute,” he said, “I’ll make it all better, I promise, just give me a minute.”

Oken looked back across the road at the two figures, who were seemingly unaffected by reality. The wind blew, but their hair stayed still. People walked round them, but not consciously. There was another force at work there. Something stronger. Old father time?

“Oken, for crying out loud,” he shouted, “Why won’t you save us? Give me a shield generator.” The ripping was more painful now and he dropped to his knees. His heart, his very soul felt like it was tearing in two. Losing Kiele had been painful, but this was excruciating. It was like he was forgetting everything he had ever known. He had had parents, but he couldn’t remember them. What was going on.

Kiele was experiencing something similar. Though she knew the man in front of her was her father, she was beginning to feel less and less attached to the broken body on the floor. People had begun to crowd round him now, the blood still parading across the street as a marching band.

Oken watched them. His heart was tearing too. The girl was his daughter. He so desperately wanted to save her, to save them both, but something stopped him. Zane’s words. He had never felt like he had done anything for anybody before in his life. He had always assumed himself selfish, brash. He had forgotten about his kindness towards Ruben, his adopted brother in name only. He had forgotten about all the advice he had given to his other Zone members.

All Oken could think about was how he couldn’t bring himself to save these two in front of him. Zane was calling out, weaker and weaker now. Screaming for the man to do something. Then Oken realised he was doing something. His daughter had been born into a family of hatred, that much he had guessed from Zane’s descriptions. What better gift than to take that pain away? And Zane? If he made it back, the G-TEP would have hunted him down like a dog, and killed him. What life was that for a talented young man?

Zane was losing everything now, only two things remained in his heart, in the very core of his soul, Kiele, and love. She turned to him, her face in disjointed pain. They were both on their knees now and she kissed him one last time. The boy held on, he couldn’t think of what more to do. This was the end. She was his love, and he was hers.

They sat there in an everlasting embrace, frozen in time and space as suddenly they became ghosts and blew away in the wind, their remnants scattered across the streets.

The smell of death filled the air. It was obvious that Jessie had died on impact. His fragile bones hadn’t been able to cope with the stresses that the car had imparted upon him. His legs were a tangled mess of bone and muscle. Blood oozed from the crack in his head still and Oken was sure he’d heard one passer by exclaim that parts of his brain were visible. In the distance he could hear the wail of the emergency services siren. All too often now, they took too long to reach the accident scenes that victims that had a chance or surviving usually died because they didn’t receive treatment in time.

Oken started thinking about the young man’s future and realised how much pain and suffering he had imparted on so many people. Maybe it would have been different if he had been given a second chance? Oken didn’t think so.

But he himself had been given a second chance. He had seen the fruits of his labour. Pain. Suffering. Though something had held him back before the death of Jessie had freed him. He had been scared of he unknown. Scared of making a mistake that would somehow trigger off events that were even worse. Zane’s words had stuck with him.

Oken lifted the black holdall in his hand. The shield generator in his pocket still hummed. He reached in and switched it off. The future had already been changed. It was a clean slate for him now. There was no way things could turn out anywhere near what Zane had described. He could have all the things he had sworn he never wanted. A wife, a family, a real life.

He took a step forward and another. Then he turned round. He walked back to his apartment and closed the door. It had been a surprisingly short trip. He opened the holdall and took out his equipment. He removed the power cells from each of the devices and placed them on his counter. Then he took the bag and walked out of the door.

He crossed the hallway and opened the incinerator shaft. The heat sprung forth, crossing his face and making him reel back slightly. The opening was around half a metre square and Oken gingerly placed the bag in the gap. He looked back at his apartment, still visible and saw his desk, the desk he had spent so many days and nights working on the contents of the bag. He saw an image of Kiele in his mind, sweet little Kiele, he hadn’t even gotten to say hello. He released his grip and the bag fell into the depths of the fire below.

Bethany screamed.

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