THE EPOCH CHRONICLES | ✔

three

A VERY intelligent word escaped her mouth at Gerald's own.

"Huh?"

The two men shared a glance, as if suddenly doubting they had chosen the right person to approach. She tried to recover her wits, but her thoughts seemed to scatter as she tried to grab them. "I don't understand." Amelia stammered. Her eyes were stinging, as were her shins, where the scalded skin and hair decided that then was the time to start alerting her of the pain.

"You're talking about... time travel. Right?" The room, which had previously seemed so cavernous, was now closing in on her. She didn't want to listen any more. But the dark-suited men in front of her showed no indication of leaving.

"The less scientific term, yes," Gerald replied. He suddenly seemed nervous, wringing his hands and looking away from her. Atlas' eyes were unreadable, the darkest of oil hiding his expression. Amelia blinked. She didn't laugh this time.

"You're daggin' kidding me." She blurted, no longer nervous or afraid. This preposition didn't seem so appealing any more — not when Professor Tatumm, and these men, these intruders, took her for a fool. Time travel was impossible. I.O.K. was a prestigious league of Englishmen who would have more fun sipping tea than trying to navigate such technologies; it was hopeless. Even a paleontologist, as lowly as she in economic and government ranks, could see that the future of North America was only going one way — down. And nothing would ever change that.

"You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" Amelia's voice unexpectedly quivered, yet she refused to back down. Anger replaced fear and intrigue. "You want my knowledge. My research. Everything that has taken years to accumulate. You don't care about me, or this country, or anyone but yourselves!" She suddenly found herself standing, fists clenched, looming over even Atlas. The fact that they looked less than impressed only infuriated her further. "Well, if you think that I am that gullible, then you have another thing coming!"

Yet what was she going to do? She realized, pausing for a second. She had no weapons — unless she counted the small table. But Amelia doubted she'd be able to heft it; Daryl was the weight-lifter of the apartment, moving and rearranging furniture when she added another painting or case of fossils to the collection. The men would easily overwhelm her,  and then her tiny rebellion would be over. It was almost laughable. Amelia had no other option than to listen to the raw sewage spewing from Gerald's mouth.

"Miss Doveare, we do urge you to remain calm," Atlas spoke, his guttural tone annoyed, like a mother scolding a young child. Amelia was beginning to wonder if he was the one in charge, even if he didn't speak the most. "Time is critical, and every second we spend trying to appease you is another death we could've prevented."

Although the large man could have been far less blunt, she had to admit that they had a point. With their pale skin and expensive clothing, which wasn't yet layered with the grime that had become the signature uniform of the inhabitants surrounding the dust-bowl once called Lake Michigan, they had obviously traversed across from far, and were way out of their comfort zones. The least she could do was listen, even though Amelia was tempted to curse at them with every swear she knew.

"Alright." She sat back down, making sure that they knew that she was the one in control of this conversation, and that she could walk out at any second. Gerald seemed to have controlled his momentary hesitance, and Atlas once again lapsed into silence.

"Your paleontologic background has its premiums, yes, but we have been working closely with Professor Tatumm for nearly a decade; if he says that you're our prime choice, then you're our prime choice. He declared your documented public background an exceptional one — degrees in science and biology, as well as interest asserted into anthropology and advanced history. All of these skills would be exceptionally handy for this rather delicate mission, one that only the best of the best are chosen for." He paused, then took off his sunglasses. Amelia was stunned at how sincere his gray eyes were.