As instructed, Zeven took Anselm to Taren’s childhood apartment, and Anselm felt quite nostalgic upon realising where they were. ‘I never thought to be here again.’
‘Well it’s a good thing you kept the place, it’s come in very handy of late, and in the future,’ Zeven said. ‘I’d never sell it, if I were you.’ He took a seat on a lounge in a great puff of dust.
‘I won’t.’ Anselm was amused by the young stranger’s claims. ‘I promised Taren it would always be here for her.’
‘A clean wouldn’t go astray.’ Zeven coughed and waved away the dust cloud he’d stirred up, then spotted Anselm moving to take a look out through the blinds. ‘Don’t do that.’ Zeven jumped up to pull Anselm back from the window.
Anselm couldn’t help being taken aback — nobody but his bodyguards had dared to physically manhandle him for many years. ‘You could be arrested for shoving me about, you realise?’ Anselm allowed Zeven to lead him to a seat without resisting.
‘Understand this.’ Zeven was in the leader’s face before he sat down. ‘We don’t do anything for an hour, for we do not exist. We cannot be seen, be found, make calls, order food, turn on a light, eat, drink, nothing!’ He pushed Anselm into a seat. ‘We wait, that’s all.’
Zeven returned to his seat and his heavy landing stirred up more dust, which he waved away.
‘But we can talk, right?’ Anselm posed, light-heartedly, and Zeven shrugged, indifferent to the suggestion. ‘Who are you, Bob?’
Zeven grinned, disenchanted with the question. ‘Just Bob.’
‘I find that a little odd,’ Anselm said, ‘as I don’t recall there was ever a Prince Bob in the royal Phemorian or Sermetic line?’
‘I’m sure there are many bastards born of the royal lines that you don’t know about, and I would be one of them,’ Zeven concluded.
Anselm looked a little doubtful about this. ‘As Chairman of the United Systems Council, there is not a whole lot that happens in any star system that I don’t know about.’
‘Are you telling me you know who I am?’ Zeven scoffed at this. ‘I don’t even know who I am.’
Anselm smiled. ‘Well, I may be able to help you find out.’
As tempting as the suggestion was, Zeven’s eyes narrowed at the offer. ‘And what’s in it for you?’
‘Information,’ he replied, ‘I want to know what Taren has discovered about my viceroy.’
‘Then you should really ask Taren,’ Zeven replied, ‘I can track down my lineage on my own.’
‘I just want to help her,’ Anselm appealed.
‘Look,’ Zeven sat forward to explain. ‘I know you mean well … and although I can assure you there is a plan, I’m not the orchestrator … and I have no business bringing you up to speed at this time. So, please stop asking me questions.’ He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest them — his hangover was catching up with him.
‘Is my daughter in love with Yasper Ronan?’ Anselm shifted to current matters.
‘That’s a question,’ Zeven pointed out, but as he was bored and it didn’t pertain to the ancient future, he thought he’d confuse matters by responding. ‘It might have been true in your reality at one time, but it is no longer true in ours. Yasper’s heart will lie elsewhere by now.’
‘And Taren’s heart?’ Anselm queried.
‘Hey, if you are trying to skirt around asking if she’s my girl, she isn’t.’ Zeven ruled out that notion.
‘You sound annoyed about that,’ Anselm noted.
‘She thinks we’re related.’
Anselm had to chuckle. ‘You probably are. We probably are!’ The leader was amazed to concede. ‘For it is far more likely your lineage stems from the Sermetic royal line.’
‘I really don’t give a shit.’ Zeven was rather browned off by Anselm’s amusement. ‘So long as my unique genetic inheritance means I can serve your daughter’s cause, that’s all I’ll ever need from parents who saw fit to give me up.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t a choice they made lightly.’ Anselm attempted to defuse the conversation.
‘Can we change the subject?’ Zeven had had a gutful of this one.
‘Good call,’ Anselm concurred. ‘You mentioned Taren’s cause just now, what might that be, exactly?’
‘Taren’s cause, at present, is to right ten years of wrongs that will culminate in one big fucking disaster!’ Zeven said emphatically, to be sure Anselm understood.
‘Got you.’ Anselm took a moment to digest that information. ‘She has become all that I envisaged, and more.’
‘And she’s not operating in the dark, or on her own any more,’ Zeven added. ‘Taren is beyond being controlled by anyone … even you.’
‘It was never my intention to control her,’ Anselm defended. ‘I’ve only ever wanted to do what was best —’
‘Well, I dare say Taren has some very firm ideas about what is best for her in the future, and how you can be of aid with that, should you so choose.’
‘Well, of course I’ll help.’ Anselm was angered by the very thought that he’d be left out of anything his daughter had planned.
‘I’m going to tell her that you said that.’ Zeven grinned like a hunter who had just trapped his prey.
‘I don’t mind if you do.’ Anselm stood his ground, although he did look a little concerned that Agent Bob was suddenly so smug.
Then Zeven noted that he suddenly felt rather odd — all the molecules of his body began to tingle and then buzz. ‘Oh dear,’ he mumbled to himself, fearful that this strange feeling had something to do with the time shift that was going on.
‘Is something amiss?’ Anselm asked, starting to feel a little peculiar himself.
‘I’…m n …o …t s …u …r …e?’ His words sounded warped to a slow speed, as Zeven reached inside his jacket and clutched the memory stick that was so vital to his end of this mission. Once he had the item clenched in his palm, he breathed a long, slow sigh of relief, as the world around him slowed to a standstill. W…h…a…t…’s h…a…p…p…e…n…i…n…g? Even his thought was stalling.
I’m taking you out of time for a short spell.
Zeven received a mental answer to his query and was immediately set at ease to recognise the voice of Sammael. This meant that the Grigori were responsible for whatever was happening and hence this strange event could only be to their favour.
In the underground headquarters of the MSS, inside the medical chambers located on the debrief level, Jazmay had been X-rayed and the tracking device had been located. Hers was embedded deep in her neck, and as she had been carrying the device so long, it had grown in closer to her spine.
‘I cannot remove this without surgery,’ the doctor concluded.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Jazmay was furious at the diagnosis. ‘If you think I’m going to let anyone from the MSS open me up —’
‘Jaz,’ Yasper moved in to calm her, ‘it will be okay, I’ll stay with you the whole time.’
‘The answer is still no.’ Jazmay was panicked. ‘Taren is due back in Ronan’s office in less than an hour and you have to be there! Give me a knife and I’ll cut the bloody thing out myself!’ The Phemorian willed a scalpel into her possession, but Yasper gripped her hand to prevent her hurting herself.
Taren grabbed the scalpel from Jazmay’s hand. ‘You’ll sever a nerve or something!’
‘What in the name of science is going on here?’ The doctor was alarmed to discover there was an unrestrained psychic in the room.
Taren walked over to set him at ease, and placing a hand to his forehead she telepathically suggested he fall asleep and forget what he’d seen. The doctor dropped to the floor, dead to the world.
‘You’re full of neat little tricks,’ Mythric commented.
Taren grinned; every time she visited Oceane she suspected her talents grew stronger and more diverse.
‘Well, find a neat little trick that will get this thing out of my neck!’ Jazmay cried.
‘Actually, I have an idea about that.’ Taren frowned. ‘But we’re going to need a bath.’
‘A bath!’
‘Our — the apartment?’ Yasper suggested to Taren awkwardly; they’d only moved in together a few days ago and now they were all over.
Taren pretended not to notice his discomfort and nodded. ‘Let’s go.’
In the apartment, Jazmay insisted Taren share her idea before they went anywhere near the bathroom.
‘Have you ever tried transforming into a substance you have had contact with —’
‘What?’ Jazmay was mortified.
‘For example … water?’ Taren finished her query and everyone was suddenly enlightened. ‘If you dissolve into water then anything foreign will become very obvious, and I should be able to pluck the chip from the liquid without any damage to you.’
‘That’s rather brilliant,’ Mythric said.
Jazmay was more squeamish. ‘Better than surgery from the MSS or knifing myself in the shoulder, I guess,’ she conceded, heading for the bathroom.
Taren closed the door behind them and when Jazmay climbed straight into the bath, clothes and all, she had to repress a laugh. ‘You’ll need to remove your clothes first … or the chip might get caught up in them, and if I take the clothes out to find it, I might spill some of you on the floor.’ This was absurd, her laughter overcame her.
Jazmay found her humour too, as she willed her clothes off her body and onto the bathroom floor. ‘If you pull the plug …’ she warned as she sat down to attempt the feat.
The notion made Taren laugh again. ‘I promise,’ she wheezed, but it was hard to sound sincere when she had the giggles — she must have been tired, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any proper rest.
‘Are you girls okay in there?’ Yasper obviously wondered at their merriment. ‘If you need me to help with anything —’
‘No!’ Both Taren and Jazmay called at once, which made them laugh again.
‘I just want to —’
‘Go away, Yasper, we’re fine.’ Taren calmed herself enough to sound authoritative.
‘Oh …’ he whined, sounding most disappointed as he moved away from the bathroom door.
Taren pulled herself together, considering the danger they were all in until the tracking device was removed from Jazmay. ‘Okay, you ready?’
Jazmay nodded in all seriousness and then burst into a grin. ‘And no running the tap, either, I don’t want to come out of this all bloated.’
As Taren smothered the amusement caused by that mental picture, Jazmay knelt in the bath and after turning transparent, her form collapsed into liquid that pooled in the tub. Taren was excited to see the small device in question sinking to the bottom of the tub, and she willed the item into her possession. ‘Got it.’
The water took a gelatine form to draw up, and Jazmay’s image appeared inside the liquid and then externalised into being, perfectly dry as before.
‘Whoa, Jazmay.’ Taren was rather in awe of her. ‘There’s myriad new possibilities for you to explore.’
‘There certainly are.’ She willed her clothes back on and stretched, obviously happy to be back in a solid form. ‘That will definitely come in handy in future, hey, boss?’
Taren held out the offending chip that had caused them so much grief.
‘Get rid of it.’ Jazmay stood and stepped out of the bath, wanting nothing more to do with Phemoria or their underhanded technology.
With a thought, the chip burst into a little flame, which Taren let drop into the empty bath. ‘Bye bye to yet another controlling government organisation.’
Jazmay straightened her attire and gave a large smile. ‘You are my only sovereign now.’
Taren was touched by the sentiment, but would not award her trust so easily again, at least not openly. ‘Yeah, sure, until the next good-looking guy comes between us.’
Jazmay served Taren a hate face and a guilty grin. ‘I deserve that, I know I do … but I will make it up to you in the future.’
Taren nodded to concede that possibility. ‘Speaking of the future, it’s time we went and claimed ours.’
As the women returned to the lounge room, they were confronted by Yasper’s free-floating form.
‘Holy shit.’ Taren’s eyes boggled at the sight of the chief’s son floating around like he was in zero gravity.
‘This is what I wanted to show you. Check it out, ladies!’ He was lying horizontal off the ground, and then tumbled a full three hundred and sixty degrees to face them once more. ‘I’m levitating!’
‘Yes I can see that — it’s the Juju stone; it heightens psychic ability.’ Taren was not thrilled with the timing of his psychic breakthrough. ‘But now is really not the time to experiment, Yas.’
‘Who’s experimenting?’ Yasper appealed as he tumbled over. ‘I can’t get down.’
Jazmay approached and guided him down to standing.
‘You might want to weight his ankles,’ Mythric suggested and Taren quite agreed.
‘My father is going to blow a fuse when he sees this!’ Yasper was ecstatic as he’d been looking for a reason to rebel against his father for years. With Chief Ronan’s current mindset, bringing his son back with ‘a Power’ was worse than not bringing him back at all.
‘You should take your leave now, Mythric, before I get you into any more trouble,’ Taren suggested.
‘But what about our long and illustrious agenda?’ He sounded frightfully disappointed.
‘It will unfold, in time,’ Taren told him, ‘but with this mission we gained a ten-year advantage and I’m not going to blow that by rushing into battle just yet. That said, I will be leaving the secret service today.’
‘What!’ Yasper was devastated and Mythric wasn’t happy either.
‘My life is about to head off along a very different path,’ she told them, ‘it is something I want, and have, to do.’
‘Your space project,’ Yasper concluded, finding the fact a little bittersweet.
Taren nodded. ‘The captain of which I would have had the pleasure of meeting this morning, but stuff came up.’ She shrugged off the missed opportunity.
‘That’s right,’ Jazmay realised, ‘you did bump into him this morning.’
‘Hold on.’ Yasper was a little taken aback by the news. ‘You met your new beau the morning after I died? What happened to a period of mourning?’
‘I didn’t say the captain was my new beau,’ Taren said, ‘and anyway, at the time, you’d already been dead ten years!’
‘But I only died yesterday?’ Yasper tried to clarify, but was only more confused.
‘Look, this is my third time through this morning, so you figure it out!’ Taren gave up.
‘I never did like the MSS much,’ Mythric voiced his view, ‘must be about time I retired anyway.’
‘Well, there’s no way they are going to have me like this,’ Yasper laughed, as he threatened to take flight again. ‘Man, I’m just dying to get outside.’
‘That would be highly dangerous.’ Jazmay struggled to keep his feet on the ground. ‘At least until you learn to control this thing.’
‘Look, I don’t want you people to put your lives on hold for me,’ Taren appealed to them. ‘I have made no solid plans beyond this mission as I have commitments and promises to honour that I made in the future … and I don’t know how this is all going to play out.’
‘Well, you sure delivered on your promise to me.’ Jazmay smiled in gratitude.
‘Don’t thank me yet, we still have the chief to deal with,’ Taren pointed out, but skipped to a more positive note. ‘However, no matter what happens today, the stones you are now wearing will protect you from being found psychically by anyone but my people.’
‘Cool,’ decided Yasper. ‘How many people do you have?’
‘Not enough … yet,’ Taren clarified. ‘Some major allies lie in my future. Some major enemies as well, unfortunately.’
‘Well, if the time-cheats are to be no more, I’m done with the MSS,’ Mythric concluded, having heard Taren out. ‘Time for me to take a long-overdue holiday. So, when you need me, Timekeeper, you come find me.’
‘I will certainly do that,’ she assured him.
‘Thanks for the psychic shield.’ Mythric gripped the top of his left arm where the Juju sat beneath an armband. ‘I’ll never figure out how you healed us back from the brink of death so quickly —’
‘You don’t remember what happened on Oceane?’ Taren queried.
‘Just fragments, really.’ His frown deepened. ‘Feels rather like I had a dream and now I can’t remember what it was all about.’
‘It is a bit hazy.’ Yasper frowned in accord.
Taren smiled, wondering if there were things she did not recall, or comprehend, in the wake of her visits with their guardian. ‘Take care, Mythric, until next we meet.’
Mythric let her hand go, and took a step away. ‘You know how to find me when you’re ready to start your revolution.’ He winked and vanished.
‘What revolution?’ Yasper felt he’d missed something.
‘Never mind.’ Taren manifested a set of weights around both Yasper’s ankles, so that Jazmay could let him go. ‘How do those feel?’ Yasper took a few laboured steps, and Taren was so disheartened she almost had to laugh. ‘Ah well, the worst that can happen is that I’ll end up an outlaw again.’
‘Well, I’m probably wanted by Phemoria by now.’ Jazmay shrugged off the setback: she could change her appearance at will so it was hardly a problem. ‘Let me come with you to Ronan’s office.’
‘The MSS don’t know you’re involved, best keep it that way.’ Taren forced a smile in parting. ‘We’ll see you shortly.’
Yasper managed to steal a kiss from Jazmay before Taren vanished with him.
When Taren materialised with Yasper in front of the chief’s desk, right on time, she was met by a dart in her behind. The next thing she knew she was kissing the carpet and getting some much-needed shut-eye.
‘Restrain her.’ Ronan had waited years to make that command, and it felt good.
The agents who were lined up behind Taren and Yasper complied with the order.
‘No, you can’t,’ Yasper protested. ‘She did everything she said she was going to do … she saved my life!’
‘Easy enough, when you were never in any real danger!’ the chief grumbled his opinion.
‘But I was!’ Yasper motioned to his bloodied clothes. ‘Why do you think I look like this?’
Ronan frowned. ‘Why do you look like that? Have you not heard of a shower?’
As the agent clamped a restraining device around Taren’s ankle, Yasper made a move to try and prevent them hauling her away, but the weights on his ankles hindered his attempt.
‘Why have you got those things on your legs?’ Ronan queried the cause of his son’s awkward movement.
Yasper was getting a little angry at this point and he fixed his sights firmly on his father to inform him, ‘Because I levitate. It’s the price I had to pay to still be living and breathing … sorry if that is now an offence to you.’
Ronan was so shocked and angered that he could not breathe. ‘He’s delusional too, he could be drugged,’ Ronan concluded. ‘Put him in the cooler for a bit.’
‘You are going to be in so much shit when Anselm arrives —’ Yasper would have swiped his father there and then but was overpowered by agents who wrestled him to the floor.
‘Anselm’s not coming!’ Ronan informed him. ‘Your girlfriend is sick in the head, and she’s so convincing that now she has you believing in her psychosis!’
‘Psychosis?’ Yasper challenged his father again. ‘Get your agents to take these weights off my legs and we’ll see who is deluded!’
‘Sedate him.’ Ronan was unimpressed and unmoved. ‘He’s completely unreasonable.’
‘What shall we do with the woman?’ the agent asked.
‘Take her down to the memory bank,’ he instructed, to his son’s loud hollers of protest. ‘She’s out of control, it must be done. Get in contact with President Anselm and tell him his daughter is under arrest for the kidnap and possible drugging of my son.’