16.
Like Raindrops Sinking Through the Streets
Frank Arazia
kissed his wife goodbye and grabbed his briefcase from the counter. He hadn’t spoken
a word to her or anyone else about what he’d seen when he decided to trail Grayson
out into the oil field. Even though it lingered in his mind, part of him felt
that talking about it would only make the despair seem more real.
"I love
you, honey," he said, then headed for the garage.
As soon as Frank
touched the handle, he heard the phone ring. Possibilities swam into his mind,
and he dashed back into the kitchen to answer it.
"How are
you doing, Frank?" It was Edward's voice, sounding shakier than ever.
"Just
fine," Frank replied slowly. "What can I do for you, Ed?"
"Well, I just got situated here in Bakersfield," Edward
answered, and Frank thought he heard a hint of a smile.
"Oh!" Frank said, suddenly putting two and two together. "Let
me be the first to congratulate you then, buddy!"
It was a relief to know that Ed hadn't been let go. Frank didn't want to
think about what a guy like Ed would do when his own job was ripped away from him.
"Thanks, but I really can't celebrate just yet. It's my son."
"What's
wrong?"
"He ran
away," Edward said bluntly, almost as if it was a thing of the past.
"I thought about staying back in Pittsburgh until we found him, but then I
got a call."
"From who?"
Frank asked, although he didn’t want to know the answer.
"Grayson.
He's the one who initially promoted me. You know he was out in Pittsburgh,
right?"
"Grayson..."
Frank croaked through the cell. "What the hell does he have to do with
your son?"
"He said
he knows where my son is," Ed spoke, his voice cracking. "He told me
not to worry, and just to get my ass out to California as soon as possible."
"That
seems weird." Frank felt his own voice beginning to waver.
"Well," Edward paused, as if shrugging. "Here I am."
Had Frank been
removed from the conversation, it might have seemed darkly funny. But he knew
that he was right in the middle of it now. No matter how many times he tried to
look for places where Grayson Lee's shadow was absent...the man's influence only
seemed to grow stronger.
Frank and Ed spoke
for only a few minutes more. They briefly went over some work-related business,
then bid their farewells. Frank didn’t realize just what a morbid face he was
making until his wife rushed over to him with a concerned look on her face.
"What’s wrong?"
she asked. "What did Ed have to say?"
"Nothing
much," Frank lied. "Sorry, I need to get going."
A cloud of
doom followed the man as he headed out to his car. Grayson isn’t just a killer.
He’s plotting something much bigger than murder, and now he’s even drawn Ed and
his son into it. Victoria...what am I supposed to do?
*
Vance wrenched his eyes open, white knuckles clenched in terror. Even
though it was his second time, the transportation process still felt terribly
uncomfortable, as if he was being ripped apart. He stood up with a shudder,
looking around his new environment. They were in a small room with red brick walls.
A dusty yellow light bulb dangled down from a hole in the cement ceiling,
barely illuminating the room.
Cliff unlocked the door from inside and yanked it open, revealing a drab
town colored in browns and greys with cobblestone streets. The atmosphere was cloudy
and rainy, accompanied by a chilling wind.
"I have to say, I’m kind of underwhelmed..." Eden said. "I
thought Despair was a special case, but are most other dimensions behind the
times compared to Elysiana?"
"Well, Elysiana is one of the most advanced dimensions out there,
thanks to the help of the Church, so most anywhere we go will seem less modern.
As far as cities in other dimensions go, Petro is pretty normal."
"Why doesn’t the Church share materials with the other dimensions?"
Vance asked In a suspicious tone.
"One word: money," Cliff said. "We could transport æsotech
to other dimensions, but it’s already scarce enough as it is, considering only
one person can actually produce it. The Church has also imposed an
interdimensional trade tax on all sanctioned dimensions."
"You know, the more I hear about this Church, the more they seem
like a bunch of assholes," Vance said. "And I’m not just saying that because
I hate going to church."
"Without them, we’d be lost, and the Dark Zodiacs would have free
reign to terrorize our worlds as they please," Cliff said. "But the
Church serves God, and we serve the Church. That’s why we need to help them
find the clocks as soon as possible."
Eden pursed her lips. "It’s a complicated matter, I guess. We sure
could have used some of their help back in Despair, though."
"They’re searching for the clocks on their end too," Cliff said,
running a hand through his hair. "In their dimension, their headquarters
is basically its own city, from what I hear. I’ve never actually been there...nor
have I ever met any of them. But the Seneschal trusts them, and that’s enough
for me."
Vance scanned the antiquated town. "It looks like we’re back in the
1930s or something..."
"Remember, we’re all technically from the same world," Cliff said.
"Just different layers. Some dimensions seem like past eras of others, and
vice-versa."
"Uh-huh." Vance nodded as a strange feeling began to scratch
at the back of his mind. "First the wild west, now this. It's like one of
those low budget sci-fi shows where they go to parallel times and stuff, only
to have it be an alternate version of some time period because it’s cheaper
that way."
Eden shook her head. "I was never much of a sci-fi girl."
"It shouldn’t be that big of a surprise," Cliff said. "No
one knows how many dimensions there are in total. And infinite dimensions mean
infinite possibilities, right?"
Vance and Eden nodded slowly.
"We're not trying to map out every dimension," Cliff explained.
"That’s a fool’s errand. We’re not searching for the end, but rather, the beginning:
the Space-Time Continuum, where all was created, and where all can be destroyed."
Vance let out a yawn. Raindrops had been sneaking their way into the small
shelter, and he was getting sick of listening to Cliff drone on and on. "I
thought you said we had to get going."
"Right, right." Cliff snapped back into reality. "Anyway,
this city's called Petro. It has its share of blue collar workers, but its northern
district houses some of the wealthiest men in the dimension of Tartoch. Some of
them are, of course, involved in the organized crime syndicate that we were
sent to investigate. Captain Azuka should’ve had no trouble getting rid of them,
though..."
"Something unexpected must have stopped her," Vance said.
"I mean, what other explanation is there?"
Cliff stomped across the wet ground. "Yeah."
The trio moved deeper into the city, walking past brick-walled buildings.
A light rain fell, dotting glass windows that offered glimpses of art deco style
interiors. For the most part, the people on the street seemed to be disinterested
and tired, shuffling from one place to another without so much as a glance.
Eden spotted a large sign: Stahlmühle. "Hey, wait a second.
That looks like German..."
"In this dimension they call it Tartochian," Cliff said. "It’s
funny how languages have different names in different dimensions, despite being
so similar."
"That seems really convenient," Eden said. "Almost too
convenient..."
Cliff shrugged. "Dimensions are reflections of each other. What we
speak in Elysiana isn't native to these people, although you'd find that most
higher-class people can understand it due to its constant usage in important affairs.
Captain Azuka also speaks this language, which is why the 4th division was assigned to this mission."
"That’s German?" Vance squinted at the side, ignoring Cliff’s
lecture. "Are you sure?"
"Come on, Vance!" Eden rolled her eyes. "You can’t even
identify one of Earth’s major languages?"
"Who cares? I never learned it."
"It’s just common sense," Eden teased, folding her arms.
"You're not representing Earth very well."
"Well, I'm not an Earthling, so why should I?" he retorted.
"You were still brought up there!" Eden shook her head.
"It means you're a reflection of our culture."
"Whatever," Vance shrugged. "I don't see why you care so
much."
"Relax." Cliff smirked. "All I'm getting from you two
now is that Earthlings argue a lot."
The trio moved up a sloped road toward the city’s center. From a higher
perspective, Petro looked a bit more alive. Smoke billowed up into the air from
factory buildings along the street, and people could be seen in small groups warming
their hands above steaming sewer grates.
Cliff shivered. "Maybe we should have brought heavier clothes."
"Yeah, where are we headed, anyway?" Eden asked, dodging the
large raindrops that fell from a roof. "I'm freezing."
"We need to go let the local police force know we’re here,"
Cliff said. "They’ll escort us to the housing area."
"There better be some flunkies left," Vance muttered. "I
need some more practice."
"Be careful what you wish for," Cliff said in a somber tone.
"We still have no idea what the current situation is. It could even be possible
that the police here are corrupt, so keep your guard up."
Due to the bad weather, the trio’s pace quickened, and Cliff quickly
navigated the streets using a map that had been loaded into some device. After
some time, they reached a tall grey building with tall windows and cement
pillars built into the brick walls. 'Polizei' had been inscribed over the front
awning in large letters.
"So, how should we approach them?" Eden asked warily.
"Just do the same thing you both did before," Cliff said.
"Let me do the talking."
"And if you mess up?" Vance challenged.
Cliff wiped a mixture of rain and sweat from his forehead as he started
up the stairway to the police station. "Let's try not to think about
that."
The Vice-Captain swung open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. Rain
dripped off his waterlogged threads, adding to the pool that his drenched boots
had created. He pulled off his soggy hat, placed it under his arm, and sauntered
up to the main desk.
"Hello, I seem to be rather lost," he said, testing the waters.
A tall constable in a slick black uniform with a bucket-shaped hat shot
Cliff a glare. "Where may I direct you, sir?" His accent was polished,
but stiff.
Vance and Eden caught up to Cliff at the front. The policeman looked down
in disdain as water pooled beneath them, then moved his eyes back up to Cliff.
The man’s hand flinched, moving toward the inside of his jacket. "Who
are you?"
Cliff answered honestly. "Vice-Captain Cliff Walden of the 4th
division of the Guild of Dimensional
Knights. The two at my side are also Knights. We’ve come to recover others from
our division who were previously assigned to a mission in the Kantor District.
We would appreciate any help toward our cause."
The policeman eyed Cliff for a moment, saying nothing. Vance and Eden looked
at each other nervously, unsure of what to do – until finally, the policeman spoke,
in a cold, bitter tone. "I had a feeling there'd be more of you."
He turned for a moment and headed to the back. There was some muffled
talking, and then the policeman returned, gazing once again upon Cliff with
unenthusiastic eyes.
"An automobile will pull up to the front. The driver there will
take us to the Kantor District. On the way, I shall tell you what we know so
far."
Cliff looked to Vance and Eden. "I guess we’re in."
"You sure it’s okay to go with him?" Vance whispered. "He
doesn’t exactly seem like he wants to help us..."
"We’ll be fine." Cliff watched the policeman step outside.
"It wasn't animosity I sensed in those eyes...it was contempt."
Next: Those Who Seek Death
