The Memory Garden

Chapter 6 by Jason Brandt 

            A man stood on a rocky escarpment looking down on the valley. He was of indeterminate age, his body fit, his hair untouched by grey. But his skin was tanned and creased from long exposure to the elements where it was visible under a canvas long coat and Tilly Endurables. The collar of his coat was turned up, brushing the bottom of his raggedly-cut sandy-blond hair. A strange bemused look was upon his face that did not reach his eyes, dark and flinty. They bore an unnatural red shade to the pupil. He straightened from his half-crouch and turned to speak to a shadow in a cleft of rock beside him.            "Soon. They shall be ready soon."            A voice of light timbre replied from the darkness.  "Careful you do not upset the balance, old friend. It would not survive another sundering."            The man's expression changed from bemused to enraged in an instant, but still it did not affect his cold and inhuman eyes.            "I care nothing," he ground out, "for the Ministry's precious Balance! Only victory."            The voice from the shadows sounded tired. "You should have a care, my friend. For what use is victory if all is nothing but sand and dross?"            The man spat. "Ahh. It will not come to that. The Ministry is too ingrained."            "Perhaps. But what you are planning has not been tried since-"            The man cut in, "Yes, I know. Which is why it will work."            "It did not the last time."            "Yes, but I have the benefit of my former master's errors."            "Your arrogance is amazing."            "Comes with the territory, my friend. Now, be off with you before you are seen where you should not be."            The voice conveyed amusement, "Where angels fear to tread."            The shadow seemed less dark with the departure of the voice. The man looked back into the valley and smiled his half-smile. 

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            A few scattered beams of sunlight worked their way past the edges of the improvised blackout curtain to play with the dust motes in the air. Suddenly the silence was shattered by the blare of an alarm clock stuck somewhere between the music and buzz settings. A masculine arm worked it's way free of the mess of blankets and slapped down hard on the snooze button. It was far too early to be awake after a night of cross-dimensional partying. The room returned to stillness and quiet, the only movement the dust motes in the sun beams.            Time passed.            The alarm blared again and again the arm reached out to silence it. The arm started to withdraw and met a feminine arm half-way that drew it under the covers to a new location.             A sleepy soprano voice whispered, "We need to get up sooner or later. The Inspector is coming today."            "Several muffled resigned oaths in a plethora of languages, some not spoken for centuries, if at all, on Earth, cam from the covers and the sheets pulled back to reveal two heads. One faced the ceiling and belonged to a man in his late twenties to early thirties. He was reasonably handsome and sported a devilish looking black moustache and goatee. His eyes were closed as he responded to the younger looking woman beside him who's head was turned to the side, he lips at his ear.            "I know that, lust of my life. Doesn't mean I want to face her."            The woman, who's pixie cut hair framed her pace even after sleep, brushed her red hair back revealing slightly pointed ears, and responded, "What do you and your friends have to worry about? The station is up to spec."            The man sighed. "I know that. Bust one of these times Alex is going to say something he shouldn't and we'll be slapped with a sexual harrassment suit faster than you can say 'deus ex machina' and we'll be shut down. I don't want to go back to the work-a-day grind knowing nothing about the wider world. I don't want my Talent to be locked up inside again and go back to being Mute. And especially I don't want to lose you."            The woman smiled a nuzzled his ear before replying, "Alex isn't that dumb. And if you are going to lose me, let's make sure you don't forget me."            She rose half up in the bed and reached over him to turn the alarm clock completely off and then settled on top of him. 

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            Some time later the man was sprawled on the couch in the living room in his bathrobe with the woman smiliarly attired in his lap. From the other end of the room there was a crash as Alex, a scottish bear of a man stumbled out his bedroom door and fell flat on his face as he tripped on his too long pajama pants.            "Morning, Alex," intoned the man.            Alex picked himself up with a chagrined look on his face. "Morning, Jamey, Jez."            "Don't bother. Dimitri's in the shower."            Alex turned and began making coffee instead. "You'd think we'd have more than one shower."            "We do," replied James with a grin.            "You know what I mean. Why couldn't you count, Jez?"            Jezebel smiled impishly at Alex. "When I'm here on business I do. But usually I'm here one ... pleasure."            "Not much if you're still sharing Jamey's bed."            Jezebel put on her best sultry smile as she replied, "You have no idea, Alex. No idea."            "And I don't really want to, believe me."            James jumped back into the conversation, "Still in denial, eh?"            "Shut up."            James just grinned.            The sound of the shower cut off in the background.            "You go first," James offered, "Gotta look good for the Inspector, don't you?"            "Shut up."            The door to the washroom opened and the three heard Dimitri walk down the hall and close the door to his room.            Alex walked past the couple and into the hallway.            James looked at Jezebel and said, "Off."            She arched an eyebrow at him and squirmed her bottom on his crotch.            "You want to get off again? Already?"            He slid a hand into her robe and caressed a breast.            "Always, Jez. But I meant get up so I can get the coffee. Which you understood perfectly."              She pouted and drew in her breath sharply as he flicked a sensitive spot. "Bad man," she breathed, but slid off him and away.             He stood and walked in to the kitchen.            "No, it's you who's a bad girl," came his voice from the kitchen.            "Only half bad," she replied.            A mug filled with coffee, cream, and sugar floated through the doorway and into her waiting hand, followed by another, black, that floated past her to the hallway and disappeared in the direction of Dimitri's room. James returned with a third mug of coffee in his hand.            "Was that really worth the effort?" Jez inquired.            "No," James replied with a smirk. "But even after two years it's still damned cool." 

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            There was an authoritive rapping at the side door. James looked around the room and assured himself that both Dimitri, a tall gangly man, and Alex, were both reasonably attired and bore their Ministry pins right side up. Satisfied, he crossed to the door and opening it, revealing the imposing figure of the Inspector. She was tall for a woman and apparently in her late thirties. She would have been quite attractive if not for her severe business attire and her stern expression.            "Good afternoon, Operative 31747B-3," she snapped icily.            "Go- good afternoon, Inspector," James stammered in reply.            She brushed past him and into the foyer. There was a shimmering in the air as she crossed the threshold and foyer tripled in size and changed decor from a comfortable lived-in look to a spartan business-like appearance. The Inspector removed her rain coat and hung it on a hook that had not been there a moment before. She eyed the other two operatives with her steely gaze.            "Operatives 317417B-1 and 2. Your healths are within Ministry-approved norms?"            "Yes, ma'am."            "Yes, Inspector," replied Alex and Dimitri in unison.            "And you, 3?"            "I'm fine."            "Good. Glad to hear it." She made some marks on a clipboard that appeared in her hands. She then turned and stalked past them into what had been the living room and was now a government-style lounge. She made approving and disapproving noises as she made more marks. The three men scrambled to follow. Sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a Ministry Minder, the quarterly periodical of the organization, was Jezebel. She was dressed in a suit with a high cut skirt. She looked up as the others entered. When the Inspector finished making her marks she narrowed her eyes.            "The station was set to default when I entered. Which once are you sleeping with"            Jezebel met her gaze without flinching. "That's my business."            "It's mine as well, half-breed. Anything that could affect the operation of this station is under my perview."            James answered from behind the Inspector, "Me."            The woman made a note on her sheet. Then she looked Jezebel up and down.            "Jezebel Lemon. I saw your brother yesterday. When was the last time you did?"            Jez stretched langorously and replied, "I'm sure my family relations are none of your business."            "Perhaps not, but I'm curious."            Jezebel locked gazes with the Inspector.            "Bugger off," she said sweetly.            The men's jaws dropped in unison to hear someone have the nerve to speak to the Inspector that way.            But the sever woman just grimaced and replied, "Have it your way, spawn."            There was a hissing of indrawn breath that marked Jezebel's rage at the insult.            "Better than being a cog-lover."            The Inspector's arm snapped out, slapping Jezebel across the face in an open handed slap. At the chin, her long fingernails caught and scratched light furrows in Jezebel's skin. Blood welled immediately from he marks. Jamey's fists clenched, but Jezebel waved him off and stood, placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at the Inspector, unconcerned with the blood dripping off her jaw.            "You get one free one, Mathilda," she said slowly, deliberately. "But think carefully before trying again."            Jezebel reached to the side and tore reality in a vertical line with her fingernail. She put one foot through before turning to face Jamey.            "Later, lover." And then she stepped fully through leaving the dark tear that hung for a moment before disappearing between one blink and the next.            The Inspector rounded on the operatives. "Waystation 72431B passes muster."            The three sighed in relief.            "But," she continued, "317417B-3, you are reassigned. Report to the Ministry of People at 3:02am. 1 and 2, you will receive your replacement soon after. Good day, gentlemen."            The Inspector marched into the foyer, snatched up her coat and walked through the entrance door.            There was another shimmer and the station returned to its default setting.