Watchmaker (A short story prequel)

Chapter 2: Devolution

Chapter 2: Devolution

“Nice job, Rookie,” Peters grunted as he followed Penn out of the debriefing room. After waking up in a cold alley, nearly frozen and still stiff from the drug Fisher had injected him with, Penn had stumbled back to the agency, located in a calling-center facade. His commander hadn’t been any more forgiving than Peters, and he’d been put on home duty for the month.

“And what would you’ve done?” Penn demanded, turning around to face the veteran Seeker. The old man, nearly sixty with totally white hair, stared at him with a smug smile.

“I would’ve caught him before he got into the alley. You never let your prey get into dark places like that. The public is your friend, as long as the government is funding and protecting us. Remember that-next month.”

Penn glared at the chuckling man, and walked away without replying.

He pushed open the door to the medical office, which also served as the room where new recruits got their Bender tattoo. The commander wasn’t too fond of the idea, saying that it made the agency seem more like a gang, but the majority of the recruits got it anyway, for tradition’s sake. The tattoo on Penn’s lower arm was called the Watch by most members. It was one of his responsibilities to give the new members their honorary stamp of approval.

A kid just near his age sat on the examination table, fiddling with the hem of his white button-up shirt. Just from his clothing style, Penn could guess that the kid had never gotten a tattoo before. With a smug grunt he pulled his bag out of one of the medicine cabinets, taking out a tennis ball and tossing it to the kid.

“What’s this for?” the kid squeaked.

“So you don’t move while I do my job,” Penn lifted up the tattooing gun to show him. “What’s your name?”

“Ryan,” the kid replied. The muscles on his left arm were already going taught as Penn approached him with the inking tool.

“Are you a blood-worthy?”

“No, I’m an intelligence agent, are you?”

“Nah, my dad is. I’m a Seeker; I find the blood-worthy and bring ‘em back here.”

Ryan didn’t make another sound as the gun touched his arm. Penn didn’t mind the silence, it beat the whining that he’d had to put up with from some other recruits. He’d hardly finished the job when the door to the medical room opened and his girlfriend, Lee, came in. Her Asian features contrasted with her blond hair, the effect of which made Penn’s skin tingle pleasantly.

“Hey,” he said, putting some of his tools in disinfectant to soak.

“The Commander wants us all in the briefing room. Something big happened last night after your run-in with Fisher. You’re damn lucky he didn’t kill you. You know that, right?” She intertwined her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorway. Her own Watch was visible underneath the long sleeves of her military jacket. She was a Blood-worthy; one of Penn’s finds, actually.

“I guess,” Penn replied with a shrug. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“My best guess is that it’s about that mess last night. An explosion or something of an-unusually supernatural nature-or so they say in the news.”

“Weird,” Penn frowned as he packed away the last of his tools. “It wasn’t us this time-right?”

“I hope so, the damned CIA sure cracked down on us last time something went wrong. But what do they think’s going to happen? We’re a time-travel agency, not a damn airport.”

“Time-bending, Lee,” Penn corrected her. “We bend different time-lines to our advantage. It’s not even possible to travel back into OUR time-line.”

“I still don’t understand all this bending crap, just give me a job and I’ll do it.” She glared at the linoleum floor. Penn paused and gave her a sympathetic punch in the arm.

“You’ve only been here for a month. You’ll figure it all out.”

“Says the kid who’s been here all his life,” she grunted with a smile.

                                            2

The Commander cleared his throat in front of the group of thirty or so agents that had gathered around a huge, corporate-like table in the briefing room. His face was tense and wrinkles marked his face with age, while scars marked it with experience.

“I think the news can kick off his meeting better than I could,” he said with fatigue slurring his normally clear and crisp voice. He pushed a button on the remote in front of him and the TV that hung on the far end of the room turned on to a channel that was panning over a scene of utter demolition.

“An incident that locals can only describe as supernatural occurred only hours ago, leading police and volunteers to a site in the suburbs of Port City where a ball of massive blue light appeared to have exploded from the center of the wreckage.” The screen switched to a sloppily filmed recording of the small neighborhood from a distance, erupting in blue light that blinded the camera for an instant before the neighborhood reappeared, completely destroyed. “Governor Harrison has assured us that it was not caused by nuclear weapons, but that he would be addressing whatever it was that had caused the massive destruction. Oddly enough, no human remains have been discovered in the wreckage, leaving officials puzzled and relatives heartbroken.”

The Chief turned off the TV, and its black screen reflected the stunned faces of the agents, all of whom remained completely silent as the old man stood.

“That was an unconstrained static eruption,” he affirmed and the faces of the agents fell. “It was not our doing however. Our intelligence officers have concluded that it was one of the Rogue group members, whose existence was only made known to us last night.” He glanced at Penn markedly as he paused. “The government has put us on probation until further notice.”

The statement was met with shouting and protests from the agents. Penn’s father stood up so fast that his chair fell over behind his massive frame.

“How in hell are we going to fight these people without using static time-bending?” He demanded. “The only way to find them is to track their static readings and follow them to whatever forsaken time-line they’ve escaped to.”

The chief looked at the floor and spoke quietly, “We have to do as the government says. It’s not in our power to decide how to use time-bending.”

“Not in OUR DAMN POWER!?! It’s OUR ability, and the government can’t say shit about what we do with it.”

“Mr. Erickson, I’m aware of your devotion to this group, so please don’t do anything that might harm it’s future. We just have to wait until we can prove that the explosion wasn’t our fault.”

Penn raised his hand urgently, like the kid in Kindergarten with all the answers.

“Why can’t we do it in secret?” He pressed anxiously. “The government would have no idea. They don’t have static reading devices, and we can trust the loyalty of every member under our roof.”

“Penn,” the Chief looked up with obvious pain written across his face. “It’s not up to us, as of right now, the Benders Group is out of the field.”

The agents fell silent at the look on his face. The Chief had been the founder of the Benders group, decades back when he’d first discovered that he was a blood-worthy and how to harness that power to bend time-lines. His tiny organization had grown into a government funded agency over years of hard work, and it had all vanished before him in that explosive blue light.

“As much as I hate to say it, I believe that the agency has come to an end.”