“Try not to act like a child when we get back in range of the cameras.” Chloe’s voice buzzed in my helmet. “And don’t make any sudden movements, either. Soldiers actually train for a whole year before wearing a Raptor-6.”
I nodded, smiling like a maniac, glad that she couldn’t see my face. These suits made the previous suits we’d worn look like complete junk. With sturdy mini-cams on the sides of the helmet, I felt like I had an almost 180 degree vision. A small diagram was floating to the bottom right of my sight, indicating the condition of the suit. We didn’t have to take our coats off before donning the suits but we had to lose our gauntlets of time, stashing them in a small compartment on the right side of the suit’s chest piece.
I was almost a foot taller in the Raptor-6, making me feel like I was walking on stilts, but I wasn’t really caring as I strutted around in the dark red steel of the suit.
“Where’re the weapons on these things?” I asked, just noticing that the guards hadn’t actually been toting any guns when we attacked them.
“These haven’t been outfitted yet.” Chloe said, “Normally there are two shoulder gatlings, unless you wanted to put your grenade launcher on one shoulder, which is really more of an infantry thing. Most soldiers prefer to have the launcher in the right knee, which works like a mortar when kneeling.” Holding up her left arm, she said, “Sub-machine guns are generally installed in the forearms which work with the suits auto-lock capability, which will make your arms move for you, not a good feeling at first but people learn to deal with it.”
We turned the corner, now in sight of the cameras. “Did they just not figure on needing weapons down here?” I asked.
“Yes. My father abhors guns.”
We reached the metal door and Chloe instantly started punching in numbers on the keypad. “If anything out of the ordinary happens, the guards check on my father.” She said as the door slid open, I’m guessing she was supposed to sound like that little tidbit was to set my mind at ease, but I could so tell she was really trying to set her own mind at ease.
The room was enormous. For a laboratory, I mean, and the silence was pretty noticeable, too. Amongst all the tables that littered the room overflowing with all kinds of science stuff that I didn’t recognize, and that’s coming from a guy who lives in a lab in his basement, I got my first look at Chloe’s dad.
I don’t really know what I had been expecting about Dr. Atrium Sparks. I mean, maybe a little like a mad scientist, but nothing too much more than that. All I know is that Dr. Atrium Sparks didn’t fit my aforethought at all.
First off his hair wasn’t white, or even graying, but instead was jet black. Secondly he was a freakin’ beast, man. He looked liked a body-builder with glasses and a lab coat. Chloe had removed her helmet by then and her dad had seen her and in a split seconds they were in each other’s arms.
“Clover, I’m so glad you’re safe.” He told her, looking the same size as the suit she was wearing, which was ridiculous. “I was beginning to think you were dead.”
Since I hadn’t exactly been invited to the tearful reunion, I decided I’d check out the lab while they were having a good cry. That is, until I actually took a step and Dr. Sparks noticed me and produced a handgun.
“Who are you?” he growled, his deep lovable father voice gone.
Sadly, this wasn’t the first time I’d met a girl’s father only to have him threaten me with a gun. Her name had been Raven Collins and her daddy was an ex-marine with a severe love for his daughter and firearms.
I was fifteen at the time. Remember how I said I hated that number?
“He’s with me, father,” Chloe decided to say only after her old man had already made me feel about as unwelcome as I could. “He’s also the finder of the glove.”
Upon hearing his daughter’s words, Dr. Sparks gasped, dropping his gun like it had burned him. Removing my helmet, I crossed over to him and held out an armored hand, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Doc. I’m-“
“Jericho Johnson.” He said suddenly. “From 2012.” He was still holding his hand like it was burned and his brows had furrowed in deep thought. And he was also staring at me in disbelief like I was… I don’t know, exactly.
“You’re butler’s name is Evonne, your maid’s name is Louise, you’re a history professor, celebrity and billionaire who met my daughter the first time in Rome in A.D. 98 on a Thursday.”
“Alright, pal,” I said, not liking this one bit for some reason, “Start talking. Have me met?”
“Only once,” he said, taking a step toward me, “When I'd first finished the glove I tried jumping forward a few years as a test. You were here in Flagstaff during a revolt.” His eyes were glassy in an almost drunk like way, and I saw him swallow as a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.
Something was up. Either this dude wasn’t right upstairs, had a weak heart or wasn’t telling me everything. I was thinking the latter.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We met topside,” He said, each word seeming like a struggle, “I had only known you for a few minutes maybe, when…” His voice trailed off.
“When what?” I asked, my voice rising, causing me to receive a look from Chloe.
“There… was an explosion in the southern precinct.” Dr. Sparks said, “You died there, Jericho.”
I was already shaking my head. “No way-“ I started but Dr. Sparks cut in.
“I saw what was left of your body,” he said, staring intently at me. “You were dead, son.”
“Why was I there? Who was with me?” I almost shouted only this time it was Dr. Sparks that was shaking his head.
“You said you didn’t have time to explain. The things I told you about yourself were the only things you told me then to prove that you were from the past.”
I’m going to pause this tale a minute to explain a plan I had made on one of my first voyages. The plan, as elaborate as I’d like to say it was, was merely just a line or phrase that I used almost everywhere for instances just like this- when verifying someone’s credibility about me was a life or death situation.
Of course, you know, I never, like, thought about the whole life or death thing too literally…
For those of you who have been listening intently like I hope you have, you might actually remember the plan when you hear it. Maybe.
“Did I say something to you or ask you something that sounded a little crazy?” I asked the doctor.
“What? No, I don’t think--ah!” he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “Yes, you did, as a matter of fact.” He pursed his lips in thought and screwed one eye closed as he pondered, causing me to wonder if this guy really was one of the great minds of his age like everyone thought. “I believe you asked what my thoughts were on global warming and some sort of epidemic, or something…”
“The mad cow disease,” I said, my shoulders sagging.
“Yes, that’s it,” Dr Sparks said, smiling because I’m guessing he had been trying to remember it for a while. Then he noticed my face and also the gravity of what he’d just told me.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding once and pointing. “I’m going to go clear my head on the other side of this rather depressing lab. It was a blast meeting you, dude.” I started towards the opposite side of the lab, which, might I point out, turned out to be rocking an equal dose of depression. “Let’s do this again sometime.
Chapter 20