A
Cold
Cold
Future
A The
Discarded Knight Tie-in
By
Andrew Johnston
Chapter 1
Wind gnawed at every joint and limb
making Charles snow suit feel all but useless. He knelt at the shore along
Thames. The magma-saw launched steam into the air, turning the world around him
a solid white. Charles switched on the vapor extractor, sucking the freezing
steam into a pack on his back. The pack dinged to signal it was full. He rose
from the shore, deciding to harvest more water later.
Snow crackled under foot once atop the
embankment. Charles slammed the door shut to what remained of Parliament. Its
halls, stairwells and rooms had been purged of everything burnable. Though he
wished to preserve what remained of British history, powering the generators
fuel cells meant life.
He took the lift to the top of
Elizabeth tower. Its hundred thousand year clockwork silent, grayed by dust and
cloaked in the webs of the world’s remaining spiders. Charles tossed the pack
and magma-saw on the table. Gold, red, blue, and orange heads perked up. They
bobbed their heads back and forth, tracking his movement by the thin slits of
their eyes.
Charles eased into St. Edward’s chair,
weary enough not to plop down as he wished to. The golden crest enshrined above
it shown almost as bright as his scales did. Zipper after zipper relieved the
tension in his muscles. He breathed easier now that he no longer needed the ten
layers. Humming within its metallic prism in the clock tower’s belfry, flashed
an artificial sun. Its rays lent him hope for the item stuffed in his waist
jacket pocket.
“Has progress been made on the cure?”
He scratched at a loose scale, pulling it free, then crushing it within his
grasp. “Our condition seems to vary in its extremes with our emotions. And if
it is not obvious I am not happy.”
Mohammed stepped forward from amongst
the others, urged by his half-brother Guillermo. Egypt’s last pharaoh raised
his chin to proper height, as always in defiance of that fact he no longer
possessed throne. A kingdom either, Charles thought.
“It appears, Sire, that we may have to
settle for our current predica—”
“Settling is something we cannot
afford to do. We have no way to repopulate. No thanks this disease. I…” Charles
thrusted his hand through the open zippers of his snow suit, clasping the
pocket watch. “I will find another solution. Until such a time comes work shall
continue as your king commands.”
Mohammed returned to work with his
brother, hissing under his breath. The sun within its prism gasped and popped
from its constant flares. Rubbing his nose, the scales returned to flesh the
more he eased his breathing. We shall have to settle for our recycled … piss
until I can finish the watch’s memory drive.
The mere smell of it processing into
clear liquid was enough to make one gag. All fresh water had run out weeks ago,
and what could be harvested, kept the tower from overheating. Slowly, the rest
of his face returned to its pinkish tone, his well-kept beard with its hints of
gray broke through, covering his jaw and upper lip. He massaged his jaw once it
stopped cracking and drawing inward. Charles rolled his shoulder, deciding the
seclusion of his laboratory may further sooth his present disappointment.
***
Tapping the code, he sighed for what
had to have been the hundredth time today. 01…29…6189001. The door grinded
open, lights flickered on. He grumbled, guiding the door further a half-man’s
width further. The cold had made to his lab now. A sweet voice waded its way
through fog of static from a speaker above.
“Good evening, Your Grace. How did the
water harvesting proceed?”
“The same as the last, Josephine,”
Charles said with a sneer. “Plenty to keep us from exploding but none to quench
our thirst.”
“I would not say the day is without
success, Your Grace. The collection of locations and dates is nearly complete.
We have only too—”
“Yes…, my love. I,” Charles thumbed
down the list on the table screen. “We will gather them all soon.”
Chapter 2
Long tweezers clasped ever so gently
on the pea sized microchip. Charles eased it slowly form the table console.
About him tiny circuits hummed and thermonova cells gleamed. The light from the
pocket watch’s inner workings made it easier to align the microchip’s prongs
into place. He exhaled a long held breath, ignoring the cool sweat running down
his forehead. Click! Charles leaned back from under the low spotlight.
Rubbing his eyes he clenched his fists until the rubber of the gloves whined.
“Congratulations, Your Grace,” said
computer version of his late wife. “The memory chip is fully operational. You—”
“A minute, Josephine,” Charles said,
interrupting with a raised hand. He rubbed both eyes again. “Thank you,” he
said. “Your aid in assembling the world’s last hope has proven fruitful. Shall
we test it?”
“At your command.”
He picked up the watch and turned the
besel. The hands spun until the watch’s face lit up like a miniature sun.
Charles aimed it against the wall. A holographic projection with letters and
numbers beeped and blinked from where a chain would be hooked. The portal
formed but its light revealed condensation. He ignored it, grinning when the
portal churned. Beeping cars and the footwork of Pittsburgh’s business district
filled the laboratory.
Charles passed through the portal,
relief filling his chest, hope even. He tapped the Close When Through button.
His polished black shoes tapped the pavement as he weaved a few buttons into
place. The portal faded into the green and white lettered sign of the bank
behind him. Some passersby gave him an odd look. My attire may be outdated
for this time, but a king wears what he desires. A woman in leggings and a
blue wind breaker stopped to check a device on her wrist. It flashed, three
thousand steps. Charles felt such a number was pennies to the gold buttons on
his black Norfolk jacket.
“Nice threads,” she said, peaking over
her sunglasses. “You a time lord?”
He gulped. How did she guess he was
from another time? What had his clothing to do with being what she called a Time
Lord?
“I have never heard of such a person,”
said Charles.
He eyed her slender figure. The beads
of sweat on her olive skin leapt when she raised an eyebrow. He smiled, unable
to find the right words. She is much like her.
“Thank you. I had them custom made,”
he said. “My complements on your excellent figure.”
“Ha. Ha. Thanks. I’m sweating like a
pig, but I try. So, where you from?”
Cars sped by as Charles took in the
city’s climate for a moment. The faint smell of popcorn made it to his
nostrils. There was a stand down the street with a couple purchasing two
overstuffed bags.
“I should have guessed,” said
Josephine. “Oh, I’m sorry it must be offensive to anyone from England when all
us Americans know about is your pop culture.”
“Not at all. Though I have never heard
of such a person, if he brings honor to my country, I could grow to like him.
Is he a lord or local politician? I’m well informed on the history of the
United Kingdom.”
Her lips went wide before laughter
spilled over like a snow drift into the Thames. Charles grinned a little,
meeting her bright gaze with a face that barely understood.
“Am I missing something?” He allowed
his grin to fall slack.
He stuffed the pocket watch into his
waist jacket. She rested her hands on her hips and swallowed back her
amusement.
“A Time Lord is a character from a TV
show called Doctor Who. So, what brings you to Pittsburgh?”
“I have come to take in the—”
“Well! Welcome to Steeler country,”
Josephine interrupted.
Charles bit his lower lip to hold back
the burning in his eyes. They must not glow. I must hold my own. She does
not know to whom she speaks.
“I would be happy to show you around,”
she said. “My car is right here. Oh, I better take shower first.” She giggled.
Josephine turned the key in the door until a low click went off. “Do you mind
waiting in the lobby until I’m done? Oops.”
The keys clattered against the
pavement.
“Allow me.”
He bent to find her ankles were
exposed. They were as lovely to him as her smile.
“Shall we be off,” said Charles,
concealing his blushing. “I’m pleased to find one so friendly and attractive in
an unfamiliar place.”
They got in the car. Josephine slammed
her door, laughing once again.
“No problem. I guessed you were from
somewhere else with that get up.”
They drove off until stopping at the
first of many traffic lights. Charles kept his composure, guessing that hand
been another joke.
Chapter 3
The lobby was tiled from floor to
ceiling forming intricate murals of oceans and landscapes. Charles locked eyes
on the gold plaque at the colorful room’s center. The Beauty Within Her Has Been
Freed for All to See. Charles
grinned when he saw the signature at the bottom. Josephine Connolly.
“I knew I would find your grandmother
here.” he whispered. “She is beautiful, but naïve, unlike her granddaughter.”
He cocked his head up to a clicking.
Josephine briskly descended the steps in less tight fitting attire than
earlier. She wore narrow black bellbottoms that hid her ankles. A suit jack to
match, buttoned up to her breasts. A red silk scarf with tiny white roses
draped down her back. He bowed, gesturing to the doors with an outstretched
hand, noting her wet hair. It was warm out which gave him comfort. The wind
acted as an invisible in motion towel when he opened the door and she stepped
out.
“Oh, you’re such a charmer,” said
Josephine. “Ha ha. I hope you like sandwiches. Primanti Brother’s makes the
best.”
“I’m sure they will equal if not
surpass the ones my chef prepares.”
They climbed into the car just as a
bus advertising the Pittsburgh Penguins zoomed by.
“You have a chef? Now I know we need
to go someplace classier.”
“Oh, trust me, my dear,” he said. “He
does not serve anything of great deliquesce.”
She started the car and drove off into
the lane like a ship through a channel. Charles had to grip his seat belt for
assurance, glad a little, to know there was no possibility of sinking. The
radio blasted for a moment before Josephine turned it down.
“Sorry about that. Loud music helps me
think up new designs.”
“Quite alright. The tile work within
your home’s fore is quite impressive.”
Charles adjusted his jacket, pressing
his hand firmly to the pocket watch. Her ability to drive was questionable, but
he didn’t wish to complain. They spoke of her past projects, each one featured
across the country in major cities. He had never been so innovative in an
artistic fashion. The wish for a profession just as creative rushed to his
mind. At best he had invented the magma saw which reminded him the sting
disappointment of hours earlier. Centuries it was. I must woo her with
something beyond science. Something that shall sound less like the titles
behind us. The books scattered across the backseat ranged from Game of
Thrones to the Wheel of Time. Time does not rotate. It runs upon a rail,
only going forward and back. I hope she does not believe such rubbish.
“I have never been creative myself,
but my field of occupation does require new and intricate ideas.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” she said. “Come
on, tell me.”
Drumming his fingers on the doors
armrest, she kept nudging his leg and flashing a smile. Charles rubbed his
forehead and gave in.
“What I do keeps those in my company
from being lost to the cold. I work in a desolate place. We struggle to find a
cure to a disease that plagues many across the planet.” There! A truth woven
into something far less dismal than ruling over a frozen world without women.
She pulled up to the restaurant,
putting the car in park. Her eyes grew wide, and her lips trembled in what may
have been disbelief. Charles was certain she was on the brink of tears. A
burning at the mid of his irises matched the prickle forming scales under his
collar. I’ve… I have upset her.
“Wow. That’s really neat,” she said.
Her possessed a sad amazement he hadn’t heard in years. The men in his company
these days found more joy in their own accomplishments. Also, in keeping on his
good side. “I always wanted to help people that way. So, can I ask what disease
you are trying to cure? If you have a team and it needs funds, I might be able
to help.”
Breathing as easy as he could, the
prickle faded from his eyes, and the scales gave way to flesh. The burning
rising within his throat ceased its tormenting. The disease though was not of
this time nor of anything Josephine would understand. A women wearing a pink
shirt supporting breast cancer awareness entered the restaurant. It was wrong,
he knew, but how could he explain the daemon virus.
“We have worked with barely a nights’
rest. My colleagues and I search for a cure for cancer of the breast. It has—”
He drew the back of his hand across his eye, sniffing back the tears he thought
were long gone. “—claimed the life of my wife and that of every man’s in my
employee. We have…”
She hugged him. Her warmth out matched
every layer he wore to harvest water for Mohammed, Guillermo, and all the
others in Parliament. Tremors ran to his fingertips once they touched the small
of her back.
“Thank you, Josephine.”
“Any time, Charles. I’m here. I’m
here.”
Chapter 4
They passed the city’s two stadiums,
their open air design, chiseled out sections, and large windows were a reminder
of the collapsed homes of a London thousands of years into the future. Without
the layers of snow or ice, the site of the stadium was more pleasant. Fifteen
minutes passed before they turned on the street Josephine’s apartment was located.
By then Charles was still recovering from the warmth of her embrace before
lunch. Every button was unfastened on his waist coat. There was a drop of
mustard on the white of shirt. The experience in the restaurant had stripped
him of his clean cut self. Such an experience was impossible in his own time,
even before the virus, or before the world had frozen over. He shook his head
to toss aside the bleakness of the future.
“Luch was most pleasant,” he said. “I
would be appreciative of another should you wish to.”
Pulling up in front of her apartment
complex she drew back a lock of hair. Josephine rest a hand on his lap after
putting the car in park.
“I’m glad it helped.” Her thumb made
slow circles over the cotton fibers of his pant leg. “I… You may think I’m
pretty childish for trusting you so fast, but I could tell somehow that you
were—"
“Lost? I have been for quite some time.
In my work that is… It has consumed near every aspect of my life.”
“I could tell,” she said. “Until you
laughed at the Doctor Who reference I thought you were dull as a board.”
He rested his hand on hers, finding he
breathed easier. The tension running up and down his back since the virus
struck France was all but gone. Yet the search for the cure and endless winter
his scientists could not explain, kept some tension from leaving completely.
“It was fascinating and amusing to
learn about someone who makes many happy. A person need only their imagination
to enjoy a Time Lord. I have believed only science and mon—”
They were soft, tasting of the meaty
juices from her sandwich, The click of the car’s locks and whine of her seats
leather urged him to pull her closer. Any thought, any at all of what mattered
at the day’s beginning stored itself away. What would not have been proper in
his time cupped the formation of a long dormant feeling. One he wanted to give
her but like the fish in the ice covering the Thames, he felt exposed amongst
the passing cars and wandering busy goers.
“Let us retire to your home, please,”
he said, drawing in his lips. “Our current location feels rather unsettling.”
She smiled, caressing his cheek with
her fingers.
“Sure.”
The doors unclocked after a swift flick
of her finger. Charles climbed out then took one look at the Wheel of Time book
in the backseat, only to be tugged like a sled through thick snow. How shall
I tell her? he thought. Will she come with me, or think a man of my age
mad?
Upon the bed and under the sheets, he
could not recall ever removing his clothes. Josephine was far more slender and
had fuller breasts than the version he had married. She took control too.
Mounting him, she gasped once his legs arched and her hips rolled. After every
thrust his eyes burned brighter. Opening them he breathed easy, seeing hers
were closed. Turning over, he thrusted his lips upon hers. The taste was still
there, and for what reason he didn’t understand, he wanted to devour them. He
took to her neck instead, finding the scent of her lavender perfume dulled the
points forming over his teeth.
“Charles… Yes!”
They rolled again. This time she took
his hands and pressed them to her chest. He forced the build-up back, eyeing
the alarm clock, gripping her breasts tighter, knowing only five minutes had
passed. The time without the Josephine he knew had been too long. Work combined
with the death toll made any chance at love undesirable. The passion awakened
giving all it could. Tasting her lips once more she slid off beside him. He
thanked God that she had kept her eyes shut while his glowed. They tingled back
to their normal green.
“I didn’t want to say it before, but
your beard tickles.”
Charles turned away before their eyes
met. The pocket watch lied just inches from his clothes. Snatching it,
Josephine sat up when he cupped in his hands.
“I’m sorry it fell out,” he said. “We
were in bed so quickly I forgot to tell you.”
It appeared in fine shape. I cannot
inspect it further, or risk exposing the truth before I am ready. But If I wait
it shall become harder to do so. “I must tell you something of great
importance, Josephine.” he said. “Though I do not know it can be explained
without sounding as strange as that Wheeling of Time novel of yours.”
“Oh, that’s just entertainment. It’s a
story.” She pulled her hair back. Charles leaned against the star shaped
buttons on her headboard. “Something tells me that what you’re frowning about
is serious and involves your watch.”
“That’s just it. What I wish to tell
you will sound as fictitious as that—”
“Just say it dammit.” Josephine pulled
the sheets over her chest and sneered. Charles lowered his left hand to his
waist, hinding the scales forming across his fist. She dares! “Whatever
it is I’m sure it’s not as crazy as you think. So spit it out.”
“Enough!” Charles snarled. “You shall
not speak to me this way. I am a..”
The burning was back. The green of his
eyes lit the room until the streetlight outside the window vanished. Josephine
screamed.
“What the hell are you?”
“I…”
***
The bed’s legs snapped as the watch
disappeared into his ever expanding fist. Josephine was against the wall,
clasping the sheets tightly to her chest. At his feet, every toe was three
times any man’s, and though she was feet away, Charles could smell her amongst
the smoke bellowing from his mouth. The air whipped from behind him. He peered
over his shoulder to find a tail curving back and forth, keeping his balance on
the bed.
“I did not intend for you to see me
like this… To find out.” The words needing said were deep, almost beast like.
He tried to calm himself with slow breaths, but it only formed more clouds of
smoke. “I will not harm you. The Daemon virus did this to me. It claimed your
granddaughter. She was ambitious like you. The arts were her passion and—”
“Just stay there! I-“ She tied the
sheet in a knot near her throat. Tremors ran through her fingers as she did.
“-don’t know how I should take this. It’s like something out of a Z-list
monster movie, except with way too real motion capture.”
“Please, Josephine. I came to this
time with the best of intentions. There is little doubt what you see seems
strange.”
Taking a step forward the bed sank
until its frame planks cracked and snapped.
“Charles.” she said. “You either
need to cool down or Mrs. Kisler will have a heart attack.”
Flexing his toes and then his
fingers, they shrunk the more he watched her lips tremble. His jaw creaked and
crackled, making her cringe as he groaned. Thank God himself this bloody
virus did not give me horns like poor Shawnu. He let out a roar as his tail
thrusted itself into his bottom. His scales were flesh once again.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Josephine.”
“It’s the landlord.” She ran to the
door, opened it just to the living room. Charles’ eye faded to normal before
she ducked out into the hallway. “Don’t worry. I’ll try and bounce back. Just let
me get us out of this jam.”
Chapter 5
Steam rose from two cups. His
clothes hung loose, and without a button near the mid of his throat the collar
felt strange. Not only had the bed caved from his anger, but his clothes had
torn when Charles tried to pull them free. Josephine sat on the opposite end of
the couch. Her feet were off to the side as if in case he lost control again.
The tea soothed his nerves. He hadn’t tasted tea in some time, and yet perhaps
it wasn’t the flavor, but the heat that relaxed him. It ebbed through the cup into
his fingers. Charles saw a similar effect was lost on Josephine.
“It’s gotta be lonely to have her
gone,” she said. “My grand kid sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She was … all a man could dream
of.” Charles held out the watch. “But she is not lost to me entirely.”
Turning the bezel, light blanketed
the yellow of the couch turning it green. With a tap at the screen it spun,
showing slightly older woman than the one before. Charles pressed his lips into
a hard line, but it was no use hiding his sorrow.
“She is nearly identical to her
future counterpart, Your Grace,” the watch said. “Does she know about the
world’s future predicament?”
“I told her of her grandchild and
the virus. It is simply a matter of convincing her to—”
“I’m not sure if I can go,
Charles,” Josephine said, sipping her tea to hide her uncertainty. She swallowed
her nervousness, yet the feeling remained plain on her face. “I can’t just up
and go. I… Don’t get me wrong. What happened before you broke the bed was
something.”
“She appears unmoved by your
efforts, Your—” Tap. The projection zipped back into the watch.
“If you do not wish to come with,
then I will understand. I—”
“There’s no, No, yet,
Charles. I just need more time to think.”
She moved to the sliding door of
the balcony. The door was cracked open a few inches. Wind whispered through it,
telling the sheet trailing from her ankles to dance. Charles eased the watch
into his pocket, hoping the tight jeans wouldn’t cause anything to be
misaligned. The lights of the city hung distant and high unlike his hopes. The
apartment was dim except for the lamp by the door, giving him a phantom
appearance in the door’s glass.
“If I go, what good can I do?” said
Josephine, facing him. She pressed her chin to her chest. “I like you. And when
I saw you in the street I had a good feeling.”
He rested his hands softly over the
goose prickles on her shoulders. Josephine tensed for a second and then placed
her hands to his chest.
“You can give hope to the survivors
of a frozen world. Motivation to find not only a cure, but to bring life to a
dead world with this.” He drew out the watch, holding it at eye level. “Nearly
all have given up the search. They think me relentless in my pursuit.”
“Heh. They probably think you went
back to stop the virus from ever happening.”
“None of them know I have gone.”
“Wait, what?” She pulled away
pressing her back to the glass. She shiver up into her shoulders. “They need
you. I may be a flake sometimes, but I don’t go off without telling anyone.”
“It is not their place to know or
question what I do. I had to find you and—”
Slap! Charles clasped his cheek. His eye
flashed before grabbing her balled fist.
“Let me go,” she sneered. “I’ll
scream. I’ll, you, I definitely don’t want to go now. You put yourself over
them because you’re lonely.”
Charles squeezed her fist. Scales
spread from his fingertips, fading and spreading the more he resisted the urge
to crush every bone in her hand.
“I have put duty first since my
father died upon my thirteenth year. If you believe me selfish, allow me to
show what your granddaughter has done.”
“What?”
“Amazing you said?” Charles release
her hand. “Truly, yes! The arts she invested in wiped the world of every woman
who drew breath.”
Josephine massaged her hand.
Charles listened for a knock at the door before readying the watch.
“The world froze because like most
global tragedies humanity did not heed the warning signs. The consequences have
cruel, but less so than your grandchild.”
Pointing the watch face up, a
younger version of himself appeared. He stood with arms folded in a fine black
suit afront a white paneled wall. Through a long pane of glass, men garbed in
hazmat suits performed injections on mice. Both male and female died within
minutes, their fur falling out in clumps. Josephine turned away when her
granddaughter did. When she looked back, her granddaughter had excused herself.
Two guards in gray suits lead her to an office. She dismissed them, slammed the
door, and then pulled a compact out. She popped it open.
“Have you located the Daemon virus,
Mistress?” said a gravelly voice from the compact.
“Yes. The Black Hand shall do it
properly this time. The Great War of the twentieth century fell in favor of the
English and their allies. History shall not repeat itself.”
“They have been behind much
suffering, Josephine,” said Charles, grimacing. “If not for Parliament
insisting on our marriage,” he sighed, covering his mouth for a moment. “then
my daughters would be alive, and humanity would not be near its end.”
“So you thought I would be
different?” Josephine asked. “Not some terrorist.”
“She chose to join them. I knew
before coming here that you were a woman of good quality. That not all of your
family held ties to such evil. Please, allow me to show you the rest.”
Josephine nodded and watched the
recording play on. Charles shut his eyes. He couldn’t bare it another minute.
Chapter
6
Josephine had locked herself within
her bedroom. Aside from the creak of the bed, Charles could not hear a sound. She
neither sobs nor speaks. He sat on the couch, turning the pocket watch over
and over. Time was not of the essence, yet Charles wished she would come out.
He rolled his shoulders ruffling the Bon Jovi t-shirt he wore. He moved slowly
to the door, readied to knock, only to withdraw his hand.
“Are you well, Josephine?”
There was a zip and a snap.
Was she leaving? The window inside her room lead to a balcony railed in
iron, and he had noticed the cress crossing fire escape when they had rounded
the corner after lunch.
“She’s horrible,” said Josephine.
“I don’t think I’ll make a difference. Her and I look too much alike to change
anyone’s mind.”
“I cannot say for certain if what I
told you will come to pass. You were precise in you words. I am lonely. If you
fear another outburst I—”
The door swung open with a whine.
Josephine slouched in her jeans and Poison t-shirt.
“Listen, I’m used to men being
jerks. The slime ball you’re borrowing the threads from skipped town a week
ago.”
Charles pinched the ‘B’ on his
shirt, letting it slip from his fingers.
“Am I to understand that you have
considered coming with me?”
She finished looping her belt after
grabbing her purse from the bedside table. Charles took a few steps back. The
door clicked shut just as she looked into his eyes.
“If I can show those nerds not all
Connolly’s are monsters, then I’ll do it. Let’s go!”
They made it to the door, both
slipping on their shoes. Once they were in the hall Charles rested a hand to
her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Not all of them are what you would
call nerds,” he said. “Guillermo was once the Peruvian ambassador to England.
His dinner parties were most entertaining.”
“You know what I mean,” she
grinned, “but I appreciate you finally chilling out.”
The elevator doors slid shut with
the fourth floor light blinking off. Charles drummed at the handrail along the
wall. Eyeing a picture signed by Josephine. She stared at the grated ceiling.
Its light shined through a glazed fixture. Charles thought about what he had
said concerning him not telling anyone about leaving. Mohammed would likely
take charge of things and be foolish enough to declare himself king. He smirked
once they were at the second level. He hid his humor with a cough.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing of importance,” Charles
said, pressing his fist to his lips. “Before we find a location large enough,
do you have someone you would like to—”
“I think you know I don’t,” she
grimaced.
A bing went off. The door rattled
open welcoming a cool breeze from the lobby. A car drove past the entrance,
filling it with light only to vanish in the glare of an opposing vehicle.
“I’m doing this for me, Your
Highness (Which I will never call you again.)”
They left the apartment complex,
heading to the right in search of an ally. One long enough to be far from the
street. Charles winded the bezel clockwise. He clenched his teeth, wanting to
bite his tongue. How could he make such a clumsy an offer? She had no living
family. In time Josephine being a woman of wealth and talent would have married
a writer from Croatia. It had been done at the end of an art tour through
Poland. He swallowed once they found themselves far from a nearby restaurant.
“Stand aside,” he said. “I am
uncertain if my laboratory has been compromised.”
Charles aimed the face of the
pocket watch at the wall. A bright beam of light struck it worn brickwork,
expanding in seconds. The portal swirled, flickering until mimicking a blue and
white lolly. Josephine reached. The tips of her fingers halted within an inch
of the swirling light.
“There’s a beeping and a lowing
hissing. Is that good?”
“Certainly. It appears no has
discovered my laboratory,” said Charles, gesturing with an open hand. “After
you, my dear.”
“Can you go first,” she bit her lip,
resting her worried gaze on the portal, “please?”
Her hand shook as the portal
coughed a chilling blast of air. They remained silent for a few moments as cars
honked from down the ally. Charles’ palms ran with sweat. The watch was growing
warmer. He had never pushed the device beyond a minute. She took one last look
up the ally, pulling her hair away from her eyes. Such beauty and spirit
belonged in the time they were in. To bring her to a world devoid of near all
life seemed cruel. Men of science and hidden ambition waited for her. Along
with the confines of a structure that’s windows were sealed off. She would grow
bored, he thought, yet he wanted her more than anything. Damn the consequences.
Josephine took his hand before he could halt what was coming.
Chapter 7
The lights above grew brighter and brighter,
almost sucking the air from the room. A vault door beyond a light table, that
ran lists of dates and locations, glistened from the cold piercing through
millennia old walls. The portal zipped shut, almost pinching them from behind.
A light mist rose from their lips. Josephine rubbed her bare arms, her teeth
chattering.
“My apologies,” said Charles,
making for a cabinet beside a shelf of preserved books. Each one contained the
complete discoveries of scientists long dead. “The cold takes some getting used
to.”
“What’s past that door?”
Charles withdrew from the cabinet a
pair of snowsuits. The generator behind him hummed into motion, all at once the
lights dimmed to a manageable brightness. Another machine whistled at a low
pitch, immediately raising the temperature to bearable thirty degrees.
“London, England. Parliament to be
more precise. It remains the only structure beyond what Americans call Big Ben
that hasn’t surrendered to time.”
They slipped into their suits,
wrinkling the clothing of twenty-eighteen. Each suit possessed seven thick, yet
flexible, layers. Charles pinched one of the buttons on the cuff of Josephine’s
sleeve. She gasped as the heating coils within her suit warmed her. He grabbed
the vault door firmly, and with a few firm tugs slid it open. Ice broke off its
smooth surface and shattered on the floor. The shards scattered under the
buzzing machinery. Josephine rested a hand to his shoulder.
“I’m having second thoughts,” she
said, whispering. “What if these guys do something … you know, gross when you
aren’t around? They haven’t been around a girl in a while.”
He released the door, enveloping
her hands in this own, and held them close. Her gloves were thick, yet he could
feel the flinching hesitation in her fingers.
“I shall not allow it.” His eyes
narrowed and his lips curled, revealing fangs. “Whoever tries will be gelded
and thrown into the cold to—”
“Charles! Your hurting me!”
He blinked and slowly he let her
hands go. His eye faded to their normal green. He winced when his fangs pinched
his lip from their withdraw.
“I am sorry.” he sighed. “I lost
control once again.”
She kissed his cheek, holding him
close.
“You care a lot about me,”
Josephine withdrew from him. “Just please don’t let it happen again.”
“I will make certain it does,” he
said. She smiled at him as if she knew he meant it. “Shall we continue?”
Josephine drew over her hood and
gave his hand a squeeze.
“Let’s”
After many long corridors and firm
turns they made it to above ground. A warmth splashed against their faces as
they passed through a door of white oak. He told he had arranged private
quarters for her. They would not possess equal heat to the rest of Parliament.
She raised an eyebrow at this, but he told her too large a change would
compromise the whole structure.
Down halls and past small chambers
Charles spoke about paintings and statues of past kings and lords. She found no
interest in them, being her art was more concerned in landscapes and
expressionism. Some of the chambers the past Josephine said were large enough
to host a baseball game. Charles gave her a look to which she took the comment
back with haste. He patted her shoulder, if she wished, he would have Batrock
arrange it. The American President had been the last to escape when the Daemon
virus claimed Washington D.C, and that he had liked the Dodger’s.
Two towering doors of faded white
oak rested open to the House of Lords. Every scientist, diplomat, and
politician met at this hour daily, and by his calculation it was approaching
nine am. It felt like the proper time and place to introduce her. A network of
duct work ran back and forth above them. Josephine’s cheeks ran with sweat. Her
nervousness appeared contained behind her clenched teeth. To him it was better
than the uncertainty she possessed earlier. He unzipped a layer of his suit and
handed her a handkerchief.
“Thanks,” she said, wiping her
forehead. Josephine drew back her hood to reveal a sheen to her long hair. Charles
thought to offer her a bath before the meeting, but time was not their ally.
Water was also precious and even he knew better than to break the once a month
rule. “How much further?”
“We are where we must be,” he said.
“You wished to prove you weren’t her. Here where law, decree, and policy is the
best place for it.”
Men rushed it from the doors left
and right of a dais crowned by a gold tower. They marched in single file past
red leather couches before Josephine could turn to run. Two guards in back
suits possessing red ties seized her by the arms. The hundreds of men filling
the room took their seats. Charles made his way to his throne below the tower.
Josephine twisted and turned. Her eyes strained the tighter both man’s grip
became.
“What the hell. Charles?” Josephine
spat. “I thought I was here to help. I thought I was here to show I’m not my
grandkid.”
“That you most certainly are not.
For that, I, among those under my charge are thankful,” he said, motioning for
her to be brought closer. He took his seat, steepling his fingers. “I do find
you most appealing like I did her. However time with experience has taught me
not to trust in my feelings”
His heart sank in defiance of his
words. Every making their way down her cheeks rammed at the gates holding his
feelings captive. The woman he knew who had exposed his daughter to the first
to the virus was dead. Sacrificing herself before the agents of the Black began
the extermination of mankind. This Josephine didn’t hold such venomous
determination, but for a brief moment, she had hold of his heart. Charles
gripped the arm rest of this throne, allow his scales, and dragon features to
contain his regret. Josephine yanked free but was immediately contained. A
guard grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back.
“Mohammed,” he said. “Have the
guards release her head.”
Mohammed emerged from among the
others, turning a nob on his wrist band. A red light breach the flesh of the
guard’s forehead. He released her.
“As you wish, Your Grace,” the
former pharaoh said. “I thought you preferred the guards this way.”
“Thanks. I guess,” Josephine said.
She swallowed before looking back at Mohammed. “What…? What’s with the King Tut
get up? The kings in twenty eighteen don’t dress like that.”
“You are arrogant like her.” He
scoffed. The pharaoh’s snow suit was tighter to the limbs, a sash of beads and
jeweled scarabs lined it. Over his shoulders and across chest a necklace of
many layers and equal jewel number captured the light. Mohammed wasn’t dragon
form which allowed his eyes to be painted. “I honor my dynasty and those kings
of the past this way.”
“Ignore her,” said Charles, raising
a black claw tipped hand. “Such retorts will be removed soon enough.”
“Removed?” Josephine gasped. “I
thought you loved me.”
Tears ran down her face, but
Charles didn’t wish to play anymore games with his heart. He sniffed, rising,
moving until she had to strain to look up at him.
“Love? I do have that for you. You
have proven to possess something she didn’t. But I cannot allow a woman of an
sort of ambition to go unchecked.”
Charles commanded the guards to
raise her to eye level. They taller than him by two feet, and being they were
not perfected, raised her until the ground was well below her.
“Send me back!” she said, pulling,
clenching her teeth. “I don’t want to be around a guy who won’t allow me to
paint or read what I like. What was the point of picking me, of getting into my
car? What would a guy with a petrified turd up his ass want with--?”
“Silence! My reasons are deeper
than anyone shall know.” He returned to the dais. “Until such time I deem it
you will remain uninformed.”
“Come on you coward.” She screamed,
twisting and turning. Her hands were a cherry red from the guard’s iron grip.
Charles was at his throne turning before her insult found its mark. He wanted
to call everything off, but with all in motion it was too late. “What’s your
master plan? Let these two beat me until I’m the girl you want?”
Crack!
The boot struck his head and
thudded to the floor. Charles spun, smoke bellowing through his sharp teeth
that glowed from the fire behind them. Josephine’s foot shook despite the
room’s heat. He rolled his shoulders, readied to transform fully, but his suit
couldn’t expand to contain such monstrosity. Raising a hand it shook with fury
as he sped with within inches of her.
“Do it.” She screamed.
His claws retracted a little and
his scales faded in and out. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, but who
remained of the world stared at him. A grin formed across Mohammed’s lips. The
former pharaoh tapped a button on his wrist band, bring her closer. If I
show mercy they shall look to him for leadership. Charles swung.
Slap.
“Haaah,” Josephines head fell to
her chest.
Blood rand from her lips as Charles
retracted his claws. His scales faded to flesh as the grin on Egypt’s sole
monarch and survivor twisted in disappointment. Charles returned to below the
gold tower and the room’s faded tapestries.
