overstep

shake your hand

The cynetic hummed lowly in the background, whirring to life while its handler looked through the files and applications he had to work through that day. He was excited. Maybe he should be careful with phrases like that, but he didn't know what else to call it. Excited sounded right. He was excited.

It was his first day as a handler, after ten years of school and then two more for the basic training with SYH, one year advancing to found his future and the last three years of preparing himself, he was finally a handler. A quick look showed the static glow of the cynetic and a rush of emotions curled through his body. He was allowed to think about it, Echo decided, because he would know if they were able to look into his head. Nothing big stayed a secret for long at SYH. He just had to make sure that no one saw him out-of-state. That would raise questions and questions raised trouble and he had studied too hard to be thanked-off.

His eyes returned to the first folder on his shedule. Martin Reyes, 38. Never took greens, nor yellows. Stay at the hospital when he was 23, two weeks of reds and half a year of purple but he was within timeframe, no violation. Lost his daughter nine months ago, applied within two weeks for replacement and met all the necessary terms. This would be his first patron, one of many more and he couldn't wait to start.

A knock sounded and he schooled his features, just to be careful and called enter. The man entering matched the photo he had and Echo rose, smoothed his white button-down shirt in a fluid motion and stepped forward.
"Mister Reyes. On point. Step forward, we will begin at once." The monotone of his voice was carefully practiced and sometimes he asked himself if it was that way for everyone. No one told him and he would not risk it to ask, but before he started his preparation he always assumed that the greens would take care of it. They were supposed to skim him from his emotions over a timeframe of two years, but even after three he was still able to connect back to his none-side, the place where his feelings were stored until he decided to stop taking his greens, which was ridiculous and unheard of, because if he stopped taking them he would have to stop being a handler and no one in their right mind would decide something stupid like that.

"Is she here?", the father asked, almost vibrating with the emotions and chemical reactions he had rolling around his body and mind and Echo allowed himself to purse his lips, showing a minimal sign of his disgust about all that uncontrolled commotion. He never understood the want to keep their feelings the low-ones had and he certainly never shared it. Without emotions he wasn't worse off than them, even though they liked to make everyone believe it to be true. It was more the opposite, because it allowed him to work the most fascinating job to find in DA.1, or Daion, like everyone besides the handler and their superiors called their version of earth. It stood for the time their reality forked off to form its own, their world as they knew it and it was the first to claim a change in the Dark Age. Echo could preach every name, every fork known to DA.1. He learned it in his training and from now on he would live it too.

"We will retrieve her.", he said, stepping around the man to the cynetic and tapped on the panel at its side. The whirring got louder. "We contracted fourty-three worlds, until we found one where her parents are dead. She was informed and agreed to overstep. You got your orders and guidelines to living with an alternate. If you encounter problems you are free to contact our support." The last key was hit and the surface rippled. Echo stared and started to feel again and he couldn't stop, didn't want to, because maybe he saw it a dozen times before in his training and then another two in his preparation, but this was the first time he did it himself.

The surface curved inward and, as it came back out, the outline of a little body could be seen. A sob rang through the room and the handler curled his lips, just for a second and then there was a small girl standing in the plain white room with them, holding a backpack to her chest as if it could protect her from possible evil. Which, alright, was entirely in the realm of possibility, seeing as there were worlds you didn't want to overstep to, where the fork ruined every kind of useful and valuable future, but SYH tried to keep the contact to them to a minimum.