The Parallel - Shorts

Sapphires - Extra

(Short takes place before the course of the story)

It was pouring that evening. It was at times like these that Percy was most aware of how trapped they really were in their little world; a fragile bubble within the Parallel. Their small sphere did what it could to mimic the weather patterns of the world on the other side, but Percy was painfully aware of its unnatural reality. He'd been to the other side in his line of work; he'd smelled the fresh air during and after a storm. He'd felt the humidity shift and grow, suffocating at times, but grounding all the same. It was all so physically real, so exhilarating. Here, it felt stale to him. Rain and cloud all under the influence of a reality set into motion and perpetuated by a couple of espers, and how it groaned and strained under the pressure put on it through years of existence and abuse. They were trapped in a prison that was nothing more than a shoddy copy of the world, created by false gods. The sky above him echoed his aches and pains; lightning rippling through the clouds, leaving behind a wispy trail through the dark, betraying the otherworldly energy encapsulating them as thunder cracked and shook the foundations keeping it from collapsing inwards.

Percy understood why the Goldfinch Coterie waged the war that it did; he understood why Hobbs zealously fought to break out of it. But he knew that he had to be stopped, by all means necessary.

He hurried along his way with his hood pulled up, his jacket soaked through but his head and back at least still dry. He'd been asked to come in to the GC Headquarters and give a couple of newer recruits a bit of extra security training, running them through the facilities procedures again and drilling them on creative solutions to anything he could think of that could go wrong. Everyone was understandably on edge. Inauguration Day was at the end of next week. Mercedes Rother would be sworn in, but not if the Goldfinches and the Preservist Party had anything to say about it. And they planned to. Careful monitoring of public opinion and reactions to probes had proved exactly what they had hoped for: the vast majority of the population supported the Preservists, including a good portion of the military and inner security forces. It was IDEC that stood most passionately against them, but they would be taken care of easily if the coup went according to plan. Percy, though, had spent the last couple of months ensuring that it wouldn't.

He was no lover of IDEC, and he was a card carrying member of the Preservist party. He hated Mercedes Rother more than he knew he was capable of hating, but he could no longer support Hobbs. The Goldfinches had gone too far. Once the information he'd been slowly dripping into the necessary hands was shared with the public, he hoped that the public would agree. Rother's people and those in Security still loyal to the elected government would have all that they needed to arrest and prosecute the leaders of the Goldfinch Coterie just in time to prevent Hobbs from launching his takeover and plunging the country into a long, dark night.

Anxiously, he checked his phone as he neared his apartment: a tall, narrow building wedged wall to wall between others like it. Raindrops splashed across his phone, blurring the screen but he didn't stare long, seeing he had no calls and no messages. Wyatt was still silent. He needed to talk to him again soon. He was running out of time to save him. Percy had tried to gently, inconspicuously win him over, or at least plant seeds of doubt the day before, but Wyatt had only grown furious. He was still too blind, too wrapped up in his loyalty to Hobbs. Percy's lip curled. What was he then, if his concerns and pleas fell flat on Wyatt's ears?

He still had to try, though. His contact had been willing to negotiate as long as he kept the information coming but in order for the deal to work, Wyatt had to agree. Percy rubbed his temple with one hand as he reached into his pocket with the other, pulling out the ring that had his wallet and keys attached, chained to his belt. He leaned into the door, trying to get under the shallow overhang and out of the rain as he slid the key into the lock. Pushing open the door, he slumped in and stood for a moment in the darkness. There was only one window in the room and he had the curtains drawn. A bit of cool light from the open doorway creeped in, dancing on the ceramic tile floor through the rain. Percy let out a weary sigh, rubbing his eyes. Slowly, he reached behind him and pulled the door shut before reaching to his left and pressing the light switch.