It had been snowing in Paris for a very, very long time. Snow and ice had blocked streets and glazed windows for days. Needless to say, there were many disgruntled Frenchmen in Paris and many happy children. The city had nearly been brought to a standstill. Automobiles were newfangled, foreign contraptions and weren’t nearly as reliable as horses. However, snow that was as high as to meet the horse’s belly made them impractical as well. And so, the transport of goods into the city was as slow as it was to take them out for sale, foot being the only means of travel.
Despite the snow and bitter cold there was a single man in Paris oblivious to the conditions around him. Oblivious is the wrong word. The Man did know what snow was, and he knew what ice was. He knew that he was stuck in the city and that it was probably the worst blizzard France would see for a long time. He also knew he was meeting an old acquaintance which would be all and well, but he anticipating something even more. His favorite cup of coffee.
The man stood out among the crowds of people bundled with thick fur coats and knee high boots. He was inappropriately dressed for the weather wearing only a thin overcoat covered an expensive white suit (or at least expensive looking white suit). Nor was he subtle about his wealth either, three gold rings on his left hand and one on his right with a large diamond affixed to it. A large crocodile skinned suitcase accompanied him wherever he went as it was handcuffed to his left hand. It seemed he had pulled anything he needed from his suitcase and not from his pockets, his money, wallet, and even his ivory cup from which he had specially asked his coffee be poured into, came from his seemingly bottomless suitcase. He smiled as he spotted his friend trudging his way down the road through three feet of snow. His smile widened more as his coffee arrived a few moments later.
The man’s friend was especially large; he stood a good ways above most people and was bundled in a thick, rust and oil stained overcoat. His face was hidden under a hand knit red and yellow scarf that must have seen much use in the past few days. He sat down slowly as if worried the iron chair would snap like a toothpick beneath him. There was something off about his right arm. His entire right shoulder seemed bundled tightly to his body and was pushing out on his coat like something massive was hidden beneath it.
“Pourquoi etes vous ici Lucas?” The friend quietly asked in a hushed tone.
“Can we please speak in English? I had enough trouble getting coffee from that poor waitress.”
“I asked a simple question.”
“Please! Can we catch up for a bit first? Do you want me to get you anything? Coffee, bread?” Lucas’s friend shuddered at the thought.
“This place has the worst damn coffee on the planet.”
“Ah, but that’s why I like it” Lucas smiled taking a large sip. “Strange you would pick such a cold planet to hide James. It seems some of these humans grew fur to protect themselves in the cold. You must stick out.”
“They’re wearing fur coats, it’s winter.”
“Ah.” Lucas took another large sip from his cup.
“I see the Guardians aren’t letting you out of that big new office of yours.”
“Yes,” he laughed. “I have never had so many irons in the fire at once. It took a lot of effort to find you here though.”
“I thought I covered my tracks well old friend. I thought I was safe.”
“If it is any comfort I personally had to track you, the rest of the Guardians had to give up. I need you again. I’ve got enough pull now with the eldest. I can get you pardoned.”
“Lucas I left for a reason, what does it say if I come back?”
“You were the best Targeter we had, you learned it better than it was taught. I need you help me get someone.”
“Why can’t you do it? You found me.”
“That’s because I know you, I knew where to look, and you always fell for French girls. But, the person I need you to find is different. Every other Targeter is soft, and there are no Agents I trust more than you to look after this recruit.”
“I won’t leave another home. I have a family now, people to look after.”
“You’re making ripples James.” His blood ran cold.
“They’re light, nearly undetectable, but I found them, if you’re not careful others will too. You can protect them from the war when it comes in a few years, but what about when the Agents start knocking at your door?”
“We’ll run.”
“You’re an idiot if you think that. I’ll be in charge of them, and you’ll be lucky if I can keep you from being executed at that point. Come home, we can freeze this timeline, save them and no one will go after you.” He paused. “I promise.”
“You never keep your promises.” Lucas smiled like a fox. “Can I at least say good bye?”
“I’m sorry. We have to go. My presence here…It has probably alerted the other side already. If you’re leaving it needs to be sooner rather than later.” Hesitating, James reached for Lucas’s hand.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” James spat at Lucas, who tossed his empty cup in his suitcase and pulled out a large pile of francs for his payment, with his hand now bound to the suitcase again, he grabbed James’s free hand.
“I’m sorry James.” He touched his free hand under to his left shoulder and pulled the blue ripcord coming out of his skin. The jewel on his ring began to glow, the two began to spark, and they shot off into the clouds, lightning bolts from the ground. The poor waitress behind the counter who had been observing the two strange English-speaking men nearly fainted.
Another observer who also didn’t seem to mind the cold had also been watching from across the street. He knew the two and cursed at himself that he was late. This Observer wasn’t as noticeable as Lucas or James had been, but he didn’t belong either. His face was hooded and his size obscured by the thin cloak he was wearing that fluttered in the wind. He had not slept in days and when he did it was in alleyways and under bridges in the strangest places, usually warmer though.
The observer ignored the coffee shop; a crowd now gathering around the distraught waitress’s rambling had formed. He had to leave quickly, trudging his way to the alley behind the shop. He had slept in places like this before. Claustrophobic alleyways and ditches had become home for him.
He touched his hand to the back outer wall of the small shop. The brick was as soft as clay to him; he pushed his fingers into it and slid them down a crack formed down the wall where he had slid his hand. The brick did not split but the space between them had widened. Through the crack was a small boy, only six or seven. However this boy was not on the other side of the wall through the crack, which would have been inside the coffee shop. He was much farther away.
The boy’s eyes burned in the light; he backed into the corner and seemed to growl and spit at it and was muzzled with what looked like a respirator. His head was outfitted with all sorts of tubes and wires feeding out into the wall behind him; his back and chest seemed to be supported and made of the tubes and wire or it could have been his clothes, the Observer wasn’t quite sure. The Observer pushed a small gun through the crack, it wasn’t real of course, and it wasn’t even the right time period either. It was a plastic cowboy gun he had picked up elsewhere for the boy. If he could have had more time he would have shown the boy how to use the toy but he ironically had no time to spare and hoped the boy would be able to play with it before his captors took it from him.
The Observer ran his fingers back up the wall closing the crack again. He turned to the opposite wall. He forced his hands between the bricks once more and pulled in opposite directions. Another crack formed much wider this time and actually disturbing the structure behind it. This crack was large enough for him to pass through however. He drew a small firearm that wasn’t a cowboy gun or any other gun a person of the era would recognize. Beyond the crack was a hallway to some kind of space station and something was wrong. Klaxons and Sirens filled the hallway with sound and emergency lighting covered the area in a dim red light.
“Au revoir Paris.” The Observer smiled to himself, entering the main engineering room of Dordonia as a curtain of red crystal enveloped the sky and everything began to freeze, but not from the cold.
