The Dark Jumper

Prologue - Deep Root

Prologue - Deep Root

March 27th, 3027, 11:55 PM 

Colony: Rapaldia Orbit: Jupiter 

Evening before the Fifth Starlace Uprising

The talon pierced through the Commander's neck like a rapier, tip protruding from the other side. No screams, no gasps, no struggle - a soundless kill. The Commander's widened eyes froze in a mix of recognition and horror. Mer had no intention of introducing himself to his kill.

Branding him as a Class E serial killer, "they" called him The Dark Jumper, a name assigned by the time patrolmen he slipped past to elude capture. The Commander possessed something Mer wanted, something he wouldn't find in the virtual data streams available to the public. After all, no one was supposed to know that the Time Patrol existed. No one except the Time Patrol and those in its limited circles.

Mer chuckled as he retracted his talon from the Commander's neck. A bloodless, gaping hole remained in the Commander's neck, which Mer looked through to the cabinets on the other side of the office, his next destination.

His talons morphed into human hands, and Mer slipped on the gloves once buried in the pockets of his long coat before walking over to the cabinets and going through each of the drawers.

Mer plucked through the pages, his fingers gentle as if teasing over quivering prey. The sweeps of the pages crisped in his ears through the quiet room. The only other activity came from the muted, flickering projection screen showing the late news, and the whirring of the gated fan above his head. The room remained cool with the breeze whipping from the whirling blades above. It swept over his dark curls, blowing them back from his face.

His search ended when coming across a folder labeled "The Resistance - inspirations and visions of the Starlace Uprising." He pulled the folder, flipping through the contents to find any subtle detail he could, something that would prevent the Uprising in the present year. He'd tried to halt the procession and kill the leader of the revolt, but Time Patrolmen caught onto Mer's movements, forcing him to retreat.

Mer never liked walking away from unfinished business. Most of the Time Patrolmen were comparatively incompetent to him (he should know, he used to be one). He had to admit that they were good enough to follow some lead into his plan. So good that he'd have to be careful. He'd already been caught once before, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

A page in the folder caught his good eye - a blurb in a news article that hardly anyone would believe was a significant detail, at least for the present century.

The corners of his lips turned in a stiff smile. "Well now, what have we here?"

He'd found a piece worth pursuing, one that made even his bad eye twitch with anticipation. Inspiration was a strong, if not fatal thing, even if it came from some ten centuries back from the time in which he stood.

"Not bad, not a problem at all," he said as his eyes scanned the article. "Hardly anyone would think of the acronym F.U.D.W. from the 21st century unless they were intimately tied to them. Wouldn't you agree, Commander?"

Mer turned to the body of the Commander, which slumped forward on the desk. Mer's brows raised over his half-moon glasses.

"Oh, right. I forgot that you were never the type for conversation. I suppose even dead, nothing's changed about you. How insufferable." Mer shook his head, closing the folder, replacing it before heading to the sliding steel door of the dark office.

The Time Patrol would be here soon, and he didn't want to take any chances. If anything, they'd take the Commander's body as another casualty in the fight for intergalactic freedom.