Rules of Fate

Chapter 8 - We have a problem!

'What the hell happened?' Ethan asked as he stared across the desk at me with narrowed eyes. I looked at his handsome face and wanted to disappear into the carpeted floor. I had no idea what had happened or how. It was as big a mystery to me as it was to him. 'Well?'

I swallowed nervously, I'd not seen him this angry or upset before, even when I had messed up the Algiers mission. What could I tell him? Absolutely nothing. I sighed in defeat; honesty was the best policy, so I told him about sitting in the cafe watching Scott work like I was supposed to and how I had seen the girl's thread but hadn't tampered with it and how it had altered in front of my very eyes. I paused to catch a breath and watched in fascination as Ethan's face changed from being furious to suspicious to suddenly closed as my words sunk in. He knows something, I thought with certainty. Something I'm not supposed to know.

'You know who it was?' I asked slowly.

He shook his head but didn't meet my eyes. They slid away from mine like slippery eels escaping. Oh yeah, he knows alright. The question was why he was hiding it from me.

'It must have been someone very powerful,' I ventured, still watching him carefully.

He shrugged and shuffled some papers with a casualness that to my mind was too casual to be normal in these circumstances.

'It must have been a senior Fatelist at the very least. I mean, no normal level Fatelist has the know how or the power to do this,' I continued thoughtfully.

Ethan's eyes stayed on the papers in his hand obstinately. I sighed again; he was clearly not going to tell me anything.

He looked up finally with an are-you-still-here expression and I stood up reluctantly knowing I had out stayed my welcome. I nodded and left knowing he was watching my back like a hawk. I hoped he was doing the same in general while I was working, to keep Malcolm away from me.

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You'd think my next step would involve my family right? Wrong! My family was as clueless about fates and the Society as...well, everyone else. They all thought I worked as an insurance broker for a multinational company. I know what you're thinking. An insurance broker?! Seriously?! Yup! I wasn't overly impressed either, initially, but it was the perfect cover up. It explained my occasional absences and odd work times perfectly. Plus I lived in a fairly nice apartment with a slightly psychotic room-mate, but I could afford it on an insurance broker's wages. See...the perfect cover up.

I headed straight from Ethan's office to my best friend's apartment. On my fifth knock I felt some one watching me from the tiny peep hole.

'It's me,' I said, wondering why he was so cagey and knowing exactly why a second later.

Several bolts shot back and the door finally opened to reveal a harassed looking guy with dishevelled hair staring at me through large Harry Potter-style specs.

'Hey Zach,' I mumbled as he pulled me in and slammed the door shut behind me. Before I could turn to face him the bolts were being shot home with decisive force. 'What's up Zach?'

'Up? Nothing's up!' he replied in his warm voice which was slightly higher than usual. He was a few inches taller than me, and easily flustered.

'Aw you don't fool me!' I replied playfully.

'OK.' He scratched his ear, a clear sign he was worried. 'Mags called, she wants me to check out the ripples.'

'Ripples?' I sent a prayer to any god listening, please not the ones related to me.

'The ones related to you,' came the firm reply. Slam and dunk.

'Uh huh.' I chewed my lower lip worriedly. Mags was involved? Never a good thing. The Caribbean woman was possibly worse than Malcolm. Zach had already walked further into his apartment and was sitting on the couch by the time I decided to follow, his laptop perched on his lap, his fingers flying across the keys at a speed that boggled my mind.

I staggered into the kitchen, selected a can of soda from the barren fridge and returned to the living room. Zach was still typing furiously. He was a computer genius and only answered to the higher level Fatelists. It was his ingenious programs that alerted us to Fate's little quirks. You know like floods, earthquakes, volcanoes etc. I watched him typing for a few more minutes in silence. Interrupting Zach was not a good idea. His brain, though fantastic, struggled to deal with two things at once unless they were connected in some way. Work and friends did not mix. He paused for a second and I decided to take the plunge.

'About the ripples,' I began.

'Yeah?'

'Found anything interesting?' I asked, hoping the answer was no.

'Well...' he looked at me with chocolate brown eyes, 'You're involved and well...I...'

'Come on Zach, we're friends,' I cajoled.

He sighed and took off his glasses. 'Society rules Sam.'

'Does it really?' I asked with a small smile.

He smiled back, catching the double entendre. 'Not all the time,' he conceded and sighed again. 'Alright, I'll tell you, but not a word to Mags.'

'Pleeaasse....it's not like we're best friends or anything,' I said making a face of disgust.

He grinned this time showing perfect white teeth. 'Yeah, that'd be weird!' he agreed.

'So the ripples...?'

'I backtracked them,' he replied, turning back to the computer screen, specs firmly back in place, 'And they originated from a source near the area of the actual manipulation.'

'Well, it would since the manipulation was created there,' I reasoned. Suddenly the whole "genius" side of my friend wasn't looking so impressive.

'You don't get it,' he said tapping at more keys, 'The Fatelist creates ripples before the manipulation if it's this big. The intention to manipulate the threads starts the ripples. The ripples from the manipulation itself are just intensified versions of the original.' He looked up at me. 'Besides you and I both know Fatelists don't have to be next to a target to change their fates.'

'Uhh huh,' I mumbled, feeling stupid. So he was a genius after all. One to Zach, Sam still at love. 'So the source...?'

'The Fatelist causing all this havoc,' he replied, 'was close to the manipulation, in fact...' He tapped at the keyboard some more and spun the laptop to face me, 'He was right there in the cafe.'

I stared at the screen that was showing ripples coming from a central location. If I squinted I could make out the cafe I'd been sitting in at the centre of the widening circles that resembled water ripples on the surface of a lake after a stone has been thrown in. I couldn't believe it.

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