MF1.0 - 14 - Confirmation

‘I remember you,’ the girl said again.

Ryan shook his head. No. Not possible.

She took a slow step back, as if he were about to pounce like a rabid dog, and put the laptop on the bed. She simply stared at him – and the gun he had trained at her head.

‘You’re mistaken Miss Mimosa,’ he said. Usually, knowledge of someone’s name unnerved them – she gave him no reaction.

‘I am rarely mistaken,’ she said as she jutted her chin out. She lifted a finger to make a point, but put it down when she saw that it was shaking. ‘And I remember you.’

‘Are you going to come with me?’

‘Are you going to show me a badge?’

This brought a smile to his lips. ‘Do you really think I need to show you one?’

She shook her head, then went still. ‘I don’t hear anything.’

‘That’s because there’s no one left alive.’

‘So why don’t you shoot me and save yourself the paperwork?’

He allowed all the emotion to drop from his face. ‘I can if you wish.’

The girl shifted comfortably for a moment. ‘Why,’ she asked, ‘do I remember you?’

‘As I said, Miss Mimosa, you don’t. Are you going to come quietly, or are you going to join the dead.’

‘Well, apparently I’ve already been dead. I remember Alexandria, pain, cold, lots of cold, you, even more cold and then nothing. So either confirm my certification of insanity, or tell me why I remember you.’

‘Your mention of the Great Library does nothing to further your case.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Not the library.’ She paused and hesitantly took a step closer. ‘My doll.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He wasn’t able to keep the surprise from his face.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">The girl smirked, and he simply stared. She’d been a child, there was no reason why she should remember after all this time. One day, yes, two, yes, even a week was reasonable. Not twenty years.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">There was no point in denying it. He put the gun down. She deflated with relief.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘You are…correct.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘So what happens now?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He raised his eyebrows. ‘As I said, you have to come with me.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She watched he holstered his gun. ‘So, you’re not gonna shoot me then?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Not unless you are a member of the Solstice.’ He crossed the room and picked up the laptop. He grabbed her upper arm and shifted them away from the mansion.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Her bulging eyes and open mouth emitting a sound of disbelief made him smile – most humans reacted the same way the first time they were shifted. He sat behind his desk and required a couple of files and the standard blue folders appeared on his desk. As an afterthought, he also required a chair for her.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Sit, please, Miss Mimosa.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">The girl looked down at her legs as though she didn’t trust them to move. ‘No…’ she said. She swallowed and looked up. ‘No electrical tingle to indicate machinery, no apparent loss of time – it was instantaneous. No lapse in consciousness to indicate that I was in fact destroyed upon disappearance and remade upon entry. No equipment visible, no transponder, you did that with a touch.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He smiled, she sounded Jones.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Conclusion?’ he asked after watching her stare at her hands for a solid minute.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Not technology,’ she said at last. ‘However, in light of recent events, not surprising.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Recent events are what we need to discuss,’ he indicated to the spare chair.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She slowly crossed the room and sat down, the new leather creaking as she relaxed. ‘One question first,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘I’m Agent Ryan, now please, start from the beginning.’