rbowman
First Post
This is my first time doing this, so if I do it wrong, or someone has a suggestion on how to do it better, let me know.
Anyway, this campaign is set in Kenneth Hites' Altered Timeline, as presented in Pyramid Magazine.
The conversations at the end are left off on purpose in order to give something to introduce the next Story Hour with.
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Hank Parsons climbs laboriously to wakefulness. With his head pounding, he has to force himself to open his eyes, and regrets it as piercing morning light adds to the cacophony in his brain.
"Oh, good lord, what the hell did I do last night?" He gratefully closes his eyes to piece it together, only to realize that there is nothing _to_ piece together. He can remember nothing after 10pm. Absolutely nothing. His last memory is sitting in his favorite chair watching the tube, waiting for the ball to drop at midnight, waiting to see if the world comes to an end when the clock hits 2000.
"Well, that's about screwy..."
Forcing himself out of bed, he staggers to the kitchen for a beer, after all, hair of the dog is the best thing for a hangover...even when you don't remember getting drunk...
As he cracks a beer, his phone rings. Hurrying to the one in the kitchen to stop the god-awful noise, he manages to croak a "hello."
"Hank, this is Tom down at the motor pool. I know it's your day off, but we have a couple of cruisers that we can't get started, and no-one here can figure it out. Do you mind coming down and taking a shot?"
Sighing, he says "Yeah, alright. Let me pop some aspirin and take a shower, I'll be down in an hour or so."
*****
"You have got to be kidding me..." Emanon Jones sits on the side of his bed holding his aching head.
"I don't get it, I was on duty last night, so I wouldn't have been drinking at midnight. So why do I feel like I just came off a week-long binge?"
Forcing himself up and out of the room, he takes a few Motrin and a shower. Letting the warm water and Irish Spring work on his headache, he tries to figure out what happened the night before. It was a normal night, which was surprising being New Year's Eve, 1999. He had volunteered to pull duty through midnight in case the Y2K bug screwed the world, but couldn't remember anything past about 10pm...
Starting to feel better, he starts making breakfast when the telephone rings.
"Emanon, this is Lt. Gorges. I know you had duty last night, but I need you to come down to the station. You're not under investigation or anything, we need you to clarify some points on the incident last night."
"Uh, sure, I'll be right down." Emanon hangs up the phone and starts to worry about what might have happened to have the LT call him in.
*****
Jason "Bear" Behr can't seem to force himself out of bed.
"This has got to be the worst hangover of my life," he tells himself in-between cymbal clashes. Then his eyes pop open, much to his regret, when he remembers something crucial...he was working last night, and the bar doesn't serve their bouncers alcohol on the clock.
Groaning, he pulls himself to his feet fighting waves of nausea after the assault of light on his tattered brain.
"Man, the bar was packed by 10 last night, so I know I wasn't drinking. Maybe they served some really horrid Champaign at midnight. Did they? Damn, I can't remember a thing after about 10. What the hell?"
As he walks by the phone in the living room, it rings. He answers it just to shut it up.
"Bear, you need to come down. I need to talk to you about last night."
"Uh, sure. Can it wait for a shower?"
"I guess so, but make it quick."
Hanging up the phone, he winces. "He didn't sound to happy.
, I hope I didn't do something stupid."
*****
"What's up?" Hank asks as he walks into the Cedar Rapids Police Motor pool.
"Over here, man," his buddy Joe calls from the other side of the garage. "It's these two. We have gone through about every system but can't figure it out. We get nothing."
Shaking his head, Hank gets to work. After a couple of hours, he has checked the electrical, mechanical, and main computer. everything checks out, but something keeps bothering him. Nothing he can put his finger on, however. Something just didn't feel right about the whole thing.
Hank goes over to a car that is running fine and goes over it the same way. The only thing different is that he isn't bothered by the setup. Shaking his head, he gets down and dirty, swapping part for part between the working and non-working vehicles.
An hour or so before dark, he's ready to check it out. Grunting and swearing (slightly) he gratefully drops into the seat of the first car. Taking a deep breath, he turns the key and it fires right up. A chuckle and a shake of the head later, he kills it, then walks confidently over to the other one. reaching in, he turns the key, expecting it to fire up just like the last one. And is disappointed.
Seriously grouchy, he steps back from the cars to think when he notices a group of three guys at the garage entrance. Taking a closer look, he realizes that he doesn't recognize them, and that their clothes are almost identical, almost uniformish.
"Hey, you there," he calls out, "what are you doing?"
They ignore him.
Grumbling about idiots, he starts across the bay to confront them when he slips on a patch of oil, falling and knocking himself out.
*****
While waiting for the bus, Emanon notices a couple of groups of people standing around, outside of normal foot traffic. They all seemed to be messing with pda's and looking at nothing in particular, and, oddly, wearing some kind of unobtrusive uniform.
Shaking his head, he gets on the bus when it arrives. "They don't seem to be doing anything illegal, and besides, I'm off duty."
The whole ride to the station, he sees more of them, in what looks like three separate uniforms but all doing the same things. Chalking it up to the aftereffects of his migraine, Emanon ignores them all the way to the station.
The LT doesn't keep him waiting long. "Emanon, come on in. Would you like some coffee, you look pretty bad."
"Thank you, sir. Uh, what's going on?"
"Ah yes, last night. That weirdness around midnight, what can you tell me about it?"
Squirming uncomfortably in his seat, Emanon is distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh...well, to be completely honest, I don't really remember."
"You don't remember? Come on now, it was your scene. Now tell me what happened!"
"Well, you see, I don't remember much of anything after 10pm last night. I don't know what happened after that. And this morning I woke up with a splitting headache"
The LT gets a concerned expression and leans forward. "You do look pretty terrible. Now, son, you do realize that you will be reprimanded if you were drinking on duty."
Getting more uncomfortable by the minute, Emanon denies the accusation.
"Well, something is effecting you in a bad way. I want you to go down to the med lab and get a drug test. Report back here with the results immediately."
"Yes sir." Emanon leaves the office feeling quite on the defensive, and again goes to the bus stop. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he slips off the curb in front of the bus, and cracks his head on the pavement.
*****
Feeling slightly better after his shower, Bear leaves the apartment. Living only three blocks from work is a definite advantage, and he takes the opportunity to pull himself together. letting the brisk winter air clear his head.
Reaching work, he looks up to go inside and stops dead in his tracks. The bar wasn't there. He looks around and swears he is in the right spot. Hell, he has been walking it every night for a couple of years, he should know. But it wasn't.
Confused, he decides to go back to his building, get his bearings, and walk back. Paying more attention on the return trip, everything seems right, except...something wasn't. The more he thought about what was wrong, the more sick to his stomach he got, until he couldn't stand without vomiting.
Dropping to the steps of his building, he calls his friend Chuck to give him a ride.
"A ride? You're kidding, right? I mean, you only live three blocks from work!"
"I know, I know, but I really need this. Just do it, ok?"
"All right, fine, I will be there in a minute."
While waiting, Bear manages to think of things other than the walk home, and begins to feel better when Chuck shows up.
After getting in, Chuck looks at him like he is starting to lose his mind. "Just drive, man," Bear tells him.
Even though Bear swears Chuck is going in the wrong direction, they get to the bar just fine. Refusing to think about it, Bear asks him to wait and goes inside.
Carl, his boss, is waiting for him. "Get in here!"
"Man, he sounds pissed. What the hell happened last night?"
Wasting no time, Carl lays into him. "Look, you know I have no problem with your lifestyle, but that incident with the gentleman last night will not be tolerated. You know the rules, no fraternization with customers when on the clock, and no fraternization with regulars, period! This applies to everyone, men, women, straights and gays alike! You know this!"
"Hey, Carl, just a minute now. You know I haven't been in a relationship for some months now. I don't know what happened last night, but I'm fairly certain I wasn't making out with anyone!"
Carl looks at him suspiciously. "Fairly certain? How can you be only 'fairly certain' about something like that?"
"I can't explain it. I just don't have any memory of happening after 10 last night."
"You better not be telling me you had more than the midnight Champaign last night! Whatever, either way, consider this your warning. Something like this happens again, you will need to find a new job."
Grumbling and definitely not happy, Bear leaves the office. He is soundly telling Carl of in his head when he missteps at the threshold of the bar and falls, knocking himself senseless.
***************
Hank wakes up, and sincerely wishes he hadn't. It feels like an elephant had stepped on his head. And refused to move.
Unable to lay down anymore, he crawls to the edge of the bed, forces himself to stand, and whimpers all the way to the bathroom. As he gets there, his phone starts to ring. Slapping a hand to his head, he quickly closes the door to stop the cacophony.
Nearly an hour later he comes out, feeling marginally better after downing half a bottle of aspirin and a long, long, hot shower. There is a message on the machine, which he ignores for the moment. He looks around the living room for evidence of the New Years Eve party he must have had judging by how he felt, and couldn't see any. Nor could he remember anything past 10pm the night before, when he was watching the tube, waiting for the ball to drop and find out if the world will fall apart when the clocks switch to 2000.
Disturbed, he hits play on the machine.
"Hank, this is Tom down at the Moro pool. We are having problems with a couple of cruisers. They won't start and nobody here can figure it out. If you could come down and check it out, we would appreciate it."
Sighing and grumbling about having no peace and quiet, Hank gets dressed and goes to catch the buss, feeling in no condition to drive.
*****
Opening his eyes with a not-so-slight whimper, Emanon wonders for an instant if he were dead. Then wishes he was when he tries to sit up.
Seeing no reason to subject himself to the torture of wakefulness, he fights the urge to vomit and tries to fall back to sweet, merciful sleep. Only to have his hopes shattered by the telephone.
Whimpering some more, he pulls a couple of pillows over his head to block the sound, ineffectually as it turns out.
Thankfully, or not, it cuts to the machine before rendering him unconscious. Sighing in relief, he listens to the message.
"Emanon, this is LT. Gorges. I need you to come down and answer a couple of questions about the incident last night. Get here as soon as you hear this."
Seeing no reason to subject himself to the torture of laying down any longer, he manages to sway upright and stumble into the bathroom, swallowing a mouthful of Motrin dry, then crawl into the shower.
As he spends the next hour or so waking up and letting the pills do their work, he tries to figure out just what the hell the LT was talking about. He had the night off, or he wouldn't have this horrendous hangover. Or did he? Through the haze of pain, Emanon recalls that he was, indeed on duty. So what the hell? Who knows, because he doesn't remember anything past 10.
Still confused, he gets dressed and calls the precinct to let them know that he was on his way.
*****
"I am going to kill somebody..." swears Bear as his phone rings, waking him up to blinding pain. He probably would have felt better if the roof had just fallen on his head.
"Bear, this is Carl. Get down here as soon as you get up, we need to talk."
"Man, I hope I didn't trash the bar partying last night. It's a good thing I took the night off to ring in 2000, or I wouldn't have a job right now!"
As Bear struggles into the bathroom to get some meds and a shower, a thought hits him hard enough to nearly knock him over.
"I _was_ working last night! Oh,! If I got this drunk while working...wait...did I? can't remember a thing past 10. Great...just what I need."
A good while later, Bear leaves the house feeling slightly better and walks to work. On the way, he notices several groups of people standing around, looking at everything and nothing, playing with PDA's. Shaking his head at the idiocy of some people, he turns the corner at the bar - and stops. The bar isn't here. "Am I so sick that I can lose myself in three blocks?" Then he notices there are a large number of the idiots, wearing what appears to be three different kinds of uniforms, looking around the building that Bear swears should be the bar.
Cursing himself for a fool, he turns around and starts walking back to his building, paying close attention to where he was walking. Nothing seems to be wrong, but he does seem to be getting sicker the more he thinks about it. Plopping onto his steps, he calls his friend Chuck for a ride to the Med Center.
*****
On the bus ride to the garage, Hank notices a number of groups of people along the way, not doing much of anything. Just standing around messing with their PDA's. One group of which was sitting at the back of the bus. The longer he looked at them, the more certain he was that the black clothes they were wearing were some kind of uniform.
Hank gets up to talk to them.
"Excuse me, but what I don't recognize your outfits. Who do you work with?"
The guy in black glances up, then back to his PDA. He seems to pause a minute, then looks back up at Hank quizzically. He then seems to point his hand-held at him and mess with it.
"Look, man," Hank says, "I am just curious. And do you mind putting that thing away?"
Looking at Hank again, the guy shrugs and puts his computer away. "Well," he starts, with a slightly British accent, "You could say we are with a slightly more Secret Service than the one you are used to dealing with."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, that is something I can't very well tell you, now is it?"
"Fair enough. Why is it that there are so many of you around. Is the President coming or something?"
The guy laughs, and says "No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well, you say you are with an ultra secret service, and you guys are everywhere. I was just wondering what brings you to the area all of a sudden."
"All of a sudden?" the guy answers in a questioning manner.
Hanks eyes widen at the comment, and he slowly backs away, returning to his seat.
When he arrives at the station, he is told about the cruisers, then asks where his best friend, Joe, is.
After finding him, he closes the door for privacy and asks to talk in confidence.
"Sure man. What's up?"
"This is going to sound strange, but have you noticed any strange guys around lately?"
"Strange, what do you mean by that?"
"Well, all morning I have been noticing these groups of guys in black pseudo-uniforms. I asked one what he was up to and why they are here all of a sudden, and he seemed surprised at my question, implying that they had always been here."
Joe gets a thoughtful look on his face and sits back. "You know, these guys do sound familiar. If I am right, these guys are around the library every so often."
"The library? You mean the Masonic Library?"
"Yeah, and if you had taken my invitation to join, you probably would have seen them also."
"Well,..is there enough cars for duty today?"
"Sure, why?"
"Good, then let's work on the cruisers later. Will you take me to the Library today?"
"I suppose so. It's been a while since I had a guest, so they shouldn't have a problem with it."
As they get close, Hank notices that he is having trouble focusing on the Library building. He blinks, rubs at his eyes, and looks again. Still not clear.
"Hey, Joe, does the building look funny to you?"
"Uh, no, why? You know, you don't really look good. You sure you'd rather not go to the ER?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. It's pass." For the rest of the ride, Hank makes it a point not to look at the building.
Upon arrival, Joe takes them inside - and stops. Hank looks up and sees that the foyer is filled with black uniformed people.
"Holy...what is going on, Joe?"
"I don't know, man. I've never seen this many."
Hank shrugs and walks up to a few. "Excuse me."
The gentleman looks at him, eyes widen in surprise, then turns to face Hank, his PDA pointed at him. "Yeah?"
"Uh, do you mind not pointing that thing at me?"
"What...oh, my PDA? I'm not pointing it at you. Why would I do that? I just turned toward you so we could talk."
"Really, you don't say. Can I take a look at what you are working on?"
"No, it's classified."
"Classified, how?" Hank takes a step forward. The guy in black doesn't move, but pushes Hank away.
Due to his condition, Hank loses his balance, falls, and hits his head...
*****
On the bus ride to the station, Emanon, in turn notices the large numbers of strangely uniformed people standing around. Disturbed by it, but unable to do anything at the moment, he waits patiently to arrive.
The LT wastes no time in calling him in.
"Now, Detective, we need some clarification on the incident last night."
Wincing slightly at the pain in his head, Emanon replies "Which incident would that be, sir?"
Puzzled, the LT replies "The one at the old Mosque. Which other one would it be? Did you leave something out of your report?"
"Uh, no sir, not that I am aware of. To be honest, I don't recall right off hand what did happen. I must have cracked my head on something."
"Yeah, you certainly don't look like you are feeling well. Why don't you go home and get some rest."
"Thank you sir, but I would rather take a trip out to the Mosque to get my head straight."
"If you want to do that, I can't stop you. You are off duty. But I will say, that if anything happens, you will be on duty. So why don't you take Frank with you so you have help. You look like you will need it."
"Yes, sir."
As Emanon and Frank approach the Mosque, Emanon starts to feel queasy. Trying to shake it off, he starts to look around, and begins to feel better. Looking back at the Mosque, the feeling hits him again. Almost like he was looking at something in motion, but not really moving. Just the idea of it makes him nearly car sick.
"Frank,"
"Yeah?"
"Do you...oh, never mind." Emanon makes it a point not to look at the building as they park.
Getting out of the car, he notices a group of guys in what looks to be blue uniforms walking around the building.
"Hey, you there, I need to talk to you a minute!"
The turn to see who is talking, do a double take, and play with their PDA's.
"I've had about enough of this weirdness for one day," Emanon thinks, and strides purposefully towards the group, only to slip on the grass and crack his head on a rock...
*****
"Are you ok, Bear?"
Bear looks up from his steps at Chuck, who had just pulled up. "No, I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't have called for a ride to Med Center, now would I?"
Shrugging, he just waits until Bear gets in, then heads off.
Bear, trying to take his mind off his queasiness, watches the scenery. As he does, he starts to get a little confused, as he is sure they are going in the wrong direction. He decides to not say anything, especially after this morning's incident with the walk to work.
A few minutes later he sees the Brucemoore mansion. Using the grounds and backdrop for a distraction from the ride, he still finds his eyes drawn to the mansion itself. And looks harder. The perspective of the place seems a little off, with different wings appearing closer or further away with no apparent pattern. shuddering away from the place, Bear turns his attention back to the ride. Then it hits him!
"Hey, Chuck, we just passed Brucemoore."
"Yeah, so?"
"I told you how sick I am, so why are you going in the wrong direction?"
Chuck gets a concerned look on his face. "You really don't feel well, do you? Brucemoore is only a few streets from the center. We're almost there."
Bear feels a little stupid, but is still wary, until a few minutes later they pull into the center's parking lot. Very confused, he makes a note to tell the doctor everything, even if he winds up in the loony bin.
Once inside he checks in with the desk nurse, and walks into the waiting room. As he is sitting, he notices a couple of groups of guys in what seems to be purplish uniforms.
"Chuck, who are they?"
"Who?"
"Those guys over there. I've been seeing them all over today. I'm going to go over and talk to them." Bear gets up and starts walking toward them. Now, having a rather large man bearing down on you with get the attention of the average person, and these fellows are no different. One sees him and nudges a companion. They turn their attentions and PDA's onto Bear.
About halfway across the room, Bear, who has his full attention on the men across the room, fails to see the chair pulled out from the wall. Tripping over it he falls and cracks his head...
***************
"What a nice night," Hank thinks to himself as he yawns himself awake. He sits up on the side of his bed, smiling. "Man, I feel great! I wish I woke up like this every morning."
He sets about his morning routine humming, something he rarely does. "Man, what a night, relaxing around the house and...come to think of it, I can't remember!" Everything after 10pm is a blank. "Hmm, reminds me of what happened a year ago today. Strange, I never did figure out what happened. I wonder why I never followed up on it?"
This train of thought kind of dampers his mood, and he continues to remember that day. All the people in uniform, the trip with Joe to the Library, the tour, seeing one of the original books of Mormon, getting weirded out and leaving. The car problems were easy, just a short in the ignition, no reason the mechanics on duty shouldn't have found it, but oh well.
The year went by with little to remark on. Well, except for that election thing, but it got sorted out. Thinking back, Hank realizes that the entire year of 2000 is extremely clear except for that first day and last night...
The front doorbell interrupts his reverie. He walks quietly up to the door and looks out the peephole - and recoils in shock! Those three men were wearing black uniforms like the guys from a year ago.
Starting to feel a little paranoid, Hank heads quietly to the back door, only to see three men in purplish uniforms coming up the back walk. worried now, he goes back into the living room, only to have the doorbell ring again, then the telephone.
Not about to pick it up, Hank looks at the caller id. "Classified." He had never seen that before. He decides to let the machine take it.
"Hank, I know you're in there. You don't know us, but we need to talk about last year. There are people at your doors right now, but it is imperative that you do not speak to them. Call us at 555-0847 to set up a meeting place."
Completely freaked, Hank checks the doors again, and sees that they are still there. He then goes and calls 911.
"911 emergency response. How may we help you?"
"There are two groups of suspicious men at my front and back doors and I have received a disturbing phone call. Can you send an officer?"
"Calm down, sir. Are they trying to enter the residence?"
"No, ma'am, but I do not feel safe at the moment."
"Ok sir. remain in the house and do not attempt to interact with these men. A cruiser is on the way."
"Thank you."
*****
Emanon wakes to pleasantly warm sunshine on his face. Feeling extremely content, he sees no reason to rush getting out of bed, even though he is no longer tired. Stretching, he realizes he has never felt quite so good, unlike last years New Years Day. "Man, that was horrible!" Smiling now because the pain is a distant memory he thinks back to the party last night. And sits bolt upright in bed.
"I don't remember a damn thing!" Starting to sweat, he remembers that he was given the night off to avoid a repeat of last year. Feeling better for that fact, he is still disturbed that just like a year ago, he can remember nothing past 10 of the previous night.
While he is thinking, the telephone rings. Dreading a call from the station he picks up.
"Mr. Jones, we need to talk about last year." The man on the other end has a distinct British accent.
"Who is this, and how do you know about last year?"
"That is all part of what we need to talk about. We cannot do it over the phone. Meet us at the office building across from the Masonic Library as soon as you can, and do not talk to the men coming to your home!"
"What men-" but they had hung up.
The whole situation felt strange, but he did feel a need to get some answers, so he got up and began to dress. As he was walking out of his room, there was a knock at the front door. Cautiously, he walks into the living room and looks out the peephole to see three men in a purplish uniform. Backing slowly away from the door, there comes a knock at the back. Emanon starts to feel a little nervous, but goes to look anyway, and finds another three men in a bluish uniform.
Striding into his room, he calls the station.
"LT. Gorges."
"Sir, this is Detective Jones."
"What can I do for you Emanon?"
Well, I have a couple groups of strange men at my doors and I have received a disturbing telephone call. I was wondering if you could send a car."
"Uh, sure. Stay where you are, Greg will be there in a few minutes."
*****
"What a wonderful morning," thinks Bear, as he sits on the edge of his bed. "I haven't felt this good since...well, since never. I have never felt this good! What a difference from last year! the headaches, the problems at work, the memory loss..." Bear trails off as he realizes he is having another problem with his memory. He was at the bar enjoying the New Years' party, but can't remember anything after 10, just like the previous year.
This realization puts a serious damper on his mood, and he goes into the kitchen for breakfast. As he pulls the bread out, the front doorbell rings. Wondering who the hell is bothering him this early, he goes to check the peephole, finding three men in bluish uniforms.
"What do you want?" he calls through the door.
"Bear, we need to talk to you."
"About what? You don't look like police to me."
"We're not. We need to talk about last year."
"If you're not cops, then go away. I don't even want to think about last year, let alone talk about it!" Starting to feel a little hunted, Bear backs away from the door, and the phone rings. Checking the id, it shows up as "Classified." He is definitely not going to answer that one! Grabbing his coat and a baseball bat, he goes into the kitchen and out onto the fire escape. He climbs down into the alley and turns to walk out only to find three men in black uniforms right behind him.
Raising his bat he says "What the hell do you want?"
"We just want to talk to you about last year."
"I told you that I don't want to talk about it! Now go away!"
"You didn't tell us that. Look, we are not here to hurt you in any way, so why don't you put the bat down so we can talk."
Refusing to answer, Bear turns away and starts toward the other end, only to find three men in purplish uniforms walking into the alley. Determined not to be taken without a fight, Bear charges the men in purple, bursting out of the alley at a run. After a while, he sees that there is no one following him, so he slows to catch his breath when his cell phone rings.
"What do you want?" he demands.
"Bear, we just want to talk. You did good in avoiding the others. Now we need to set up a meeting place."
"Look, I don't want to talk to anybody about anything!" Hanging up the phone, he thinks for a minute, then calls his friend Chuck.
"Hey, I need a place to lay low for a while. Can I crash there?"
"Sure, man, anytime."
*****
Hank looks out the front window to see an officer talking with the men about halfway down the walk. Seeing a clear shot to his car, he decides to make a break for it. Throwing open the front door he bolts to his car.
"Hank, wait!" the officer calls, but Hank ignores him. He tears out of the driveway, only to see the cruiser hit it's lights and follow him, with the men in black in another car behind that.
Deciding that it would be harder to be taken in a public place, he uses the radio in his car to call dispatch.
"This is Hank Parsons from the motor pool."
"Go ahead, Hank."
"I need you to call car 23 and let them know that I will pull over in the Barnes and Noble parking lot."
"Will do."
Feeling slightly better, Hank makes sure to take the most direct route there. Pulling into the lot, he stops and gets out of the car.
The officer gets out of the car with his hand on his gun. "Stay right there, Hank. Don't move."
"Fine. I just wanted to get somewhere public to avoid any problems."
"That's understandable, sir, but I still need you to stay by the car." As he speaks, the men in black pull up.
"Now Hank, these gentlemen just want to talk to you. They have a valid complaint, and I see no reason to drag this out."
"I will have no problem talking to them as soon as a few things are straightened out. A lot of strange things are going on this morning." Right then, his cell phone rings. He takes it out, looks at it, then hands it to the officer. "Like that."
The officer takes it, sees the id as "Classified" and says "I've never seen one of those before."
"I told you! Go ahead, you answer it."
"This is Officer Terry, who is this?" The officer proceeds to have a short conversation, then hands the phone back. "Um, they just want to talk to you..."
Hank takes it and hangs it up without looking. "Now do you see why I am feeling a little paranoid?"
"I guess so. But what about these guys?"
Hank turns to the three men. "Look, the only one I will talk with is the guy I talked to on the bus last year." He turns back to the cop. "Look, can we go inside? I will do what I can to explain what is going on."
Agreeing, the officer has his partner stay out here with the strangers, then walks into the bookstore with Hank.
As they walk in, Hank notices two men in bluish uniforms at one of the coffee shop tables. Once of which has a cell phone that he raises to Hank in recognition. Feeling hounded, Hank takes the officer back to the religion section, where he sees three men in purplish uniforms browsing the aisles. Repressing a shudder, he grabs the Book of Mormon from the shelves and sits down.
"Ok, this all started last year. Remember when the cars had a problem starting on New Years' day? Well, they called me in to look at them, but I was having a slight problem with my memory of the night before."
"Oh, you're _that_ guy!"
"Yeah. Well, anyway, I had seen groups of men that morning wearing the same uniforms as those three out there, the two in the coffee shop, and the three right over there. I asked my friend Joe about them, and he said he recognized the black uniforms from the Masonic Library."
"Oh, Man, you didn't go messing with the Masons, did you?"
"No, he just took me over to the Library and showed me around. I saw a few of them, then this," raising Book of Mormon, "and left."
"Then?"
"Then nothing. The year went by without me seeing a single one of them. I know, because I can remember last year with disturbing clarity. Then, this morning happens."
"What exactly happened this morning?"
"Well, I woke up feeling great, then the doorbell rings, and those yahoos in black were there. I go to leave out the back, the guys in purple were there. Then the phone rings with that same id as you saw. I let the machine take it and there is a guy wanting to talk to me about last year, and he knew about the other groups. You see how a guy can start to get paranoid?"
"Yeah. Hell, I'm starting to get paranoid myself!"
"See? And it's not even happening to _you_. So, that's pretty much where we stand. Now, if you think I should talk to them, I will. You said they had a valid complaint. What was it?"
The officer gets a slightly puzzled look on his face. "You know, I'm not really sure..."
Hank leans back and spreads his arms, point made. "So, what do you recommend?"
Thinking for a minute, the officer shrugs. "Why don't you go talk to the guys in the coffee shop."
"Alright then. Let's go." They stand and walk up front.
Hank and the officer approach the table and sit. "Ok, I'm ready to talk."
The man with the phone looks at the officer. "He needs to be outside."
"No, he stays, or I don't talk."
The man and the officer look at each other, then they both nod. All three turn to Hank, who looks like he just got hit between the eyes with a hammer.
"We are with an organization called Strike Force Chronos."
*****
Emanon looks out the door, sees that the detective is talking to the men in purple, and walks out to see what is going on. The three see Emanon and start toward him. The other detective sees this and moves to Emanon's side. "That is far enough." The three stop.
Emanon looks at the officer. "I need a ride out of here, do you mind?"
"Not at all, let's go."
When they are both in the car, they see that the others are following.
"Ditch them?" Emanon asks.
"No, they aren't doing anything threatening, don't worry about it. Where are we going?"
"Down to the offices next to the Masonic Library."
Emanon's cell rings. Looking at it, he sees the banner "Classified" and looks in the rear-view mirror. One of the men in the car is using a cell.
"What do you want?" He asks when he answers.
"We need to talk about last year."
"Yeah, and so do a bunch of other people. Why should I stop for you?"
"Look, you don't need to talk to the others, they are misguided."
"Really...I'm sure they would say the same about you."
"Yes, they probably would, but they would be wrong."
"Ok, whatever. I'll talk. What do you want?"
"Not over the phone. If you are set on talking to the others first, meet us at the Mosque when you are done."
"Ok, but you need to stop following us."
There is no answer, but the car makes the next right turn.
"Man, this is getting creepy." The other detective just shrugs. A few minutes later, they arrive.
"So you want me to come in?"
"No, stay out here and keep an eye on things."
A man in a black uniform answers the door. "Ah, Emanon, so good of you to come. This way, please." They walk through to a back office and are joined by two others.
"Ok, I'm here, now who are you, and what do you want?"
"We work with a group called MI-Infinity, and we need to talk about what happened last year."
*****
"Hey, thanks for letting me crash here," Bear says to Chuck.
"No problem, man. What's going on?"
"A lot of crazy stuff, man. People calling, knocking on my door, finding me in alleys. They seem to know where I am. I seem to have ditched them, though."
"That sounds freaky. What have you been getting into?"
"Nothing! I don't know-"a knock at the front door. Bear looks at Chuck suspiciously.
"Don't look at me like that, man. That's just Tom and Frank. They are here to play cards."
Bear looks completely unconvinced.
"Look, man, if you're worried, go to my room, I'll get rid of them."
Chuck goes to the door, turns and waits for Bear to go into the back.
There is no way bear was going to wait around to find out who was at the door. He slides open the bedroom window and climbs out. He no more than left the alley than his cell phone rings. Bear takes it out of his pocket and tosses it. He then runs down to the mall.
He spends the rest of the day in completely public places, the book store, the mall, he even catches a movie. No one bothers him.
Finally feeling safe, he goes home and hits the sack.
The next morning Bear wakes up, smiles about how he avoided everyone, and goes to get up. Only to find he can't move. He opens his eyes to find himself tied to a bed in a dim but comfortably appointed room.
"Bear, so nice of you to finally join us."
"Who are you?"
"We just want to talk."
"Then why the hell am I tied up?"
"We didn't want you to do anything rash."
"Look, if you just wanted to talk, why didn't you try doing it normally?"
"We did, but you did everything you could do to avoid us. By the way, here is you cell phone."
An object that does indeed feel like his cell is pressed into his hand
"Fine, if you want to talk, then let me up. It's certainly not civil to keep a man tied up like this."
"And you will listen? You won't try to run?"
"What's the point, you'll just hunt me down again. I will listen."
He feels his bonds loosen, and he is able to sit up. He looks around the unusual room, finding it just a little off, but in a way he couldn't figure out. There are three men in purplish uniforms on the other side of the room, looking at him.
"Alright, I'm listening."
The look at each other, then the one in the middle steps forward.
"We are representatives of what some have called the Reptoids."
*****
Anyway, this campaign is set in Kenneth Hites' Altered Timeline, as presented in Pyramid Magazine.
The conversations at the end are left off on purpose in order to give something to introduce the next Story Hour with.
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Hank Parsons climbs laboriously to wakefulness. With his head pounding, he has to force himself to open his eyes, and regrets it as piercing morning light adds to the cacophony in his brain.
"Oh, good lord, what the hell did I do last night?" He gratefully closes his eyes to piece it together, only to realize that there is nothing _to_ piece together. He can remember nothing after 10pm. Absolutely nothing. His last memory is sitting in his favorite chair watching the tube, waiting for the ball to drop at midnight, waiting to see if the world comes to an end when the clock hits 2000.
"Well, that's about screwy..."
Forcing himself out of bed, he staggers to the kitchen for a beer, after all, hair of the dog is the best thing for a hangover...even when you don't remember getting drunk...
As he cracks a beer, his phone rings. Hurrying to the one in the kitchen to stop the god-awful noise, he manages to croak a "hello."
"Hank, this is Tom down at the motor pool. I know it's your day off, but we have a couple of cruisers that we can't get started, and no-one here can figure it out. Do you mind coming down and taking a shot?"
Sighing, he says "Yeah, alright. Let me pop some aspirin and take a shower, I'll be down in an hour or so."
*****
"You have got to be kidding me..." Emanon Jones sits on the side of his bed holding his aching head.
"I don't get it, I was on duty last night, so I wouldn't have been drinking at midnight. So why do I feel like I just came off a week-long binge?"
Forcing himself up and out of the room, he takes a few Motrin and a shower. Letting the warm water and Irish Spring work on his headache, he tries to figure out what happened the night before. It was a normal night, which was surprising being New Year's Eve, 1999. He had volunteered to pull duty through midnight in case the Y2K bug screwed the world, but couldn't remember anything past about 10pm...
Starting to feel better, he starts making breakfast when the telephone rings.
"Emanon, this is Lt. Gorges. I know you had duty last night, but I need you to come down to the station. You're not under investigation or anything, we need you to clarify some points on the incident last night."
"Uh, sure, I'll be right down." Emanon hangs up the phone and starts to worry about what might have happened to have the LT call him in.
*****
Jason "Bear" Behr can't seem to force himself out of bed.
"This has got to be the worst hangover of my life," he tells himself in-between cymbal clashes. Then his eyes pop open, much to his regret, when he remembers something crucial...he was working last night, and the bar doesn't serve their bouncers alcohol on the clock.
Groaning, he pulls himself to his feet fighting waves of nausea after the assault of light on his tattered brain.
"Man, the bar was packed by 10 last night, so I know I wasn't drinking. Maybe they served some really horrid Champaign at midnight. Did they? Damn, I can't remember a thing after about 10. What the hell?"
As he walks by the phone in the living room, it rings. He answers it just to shut it up.
"Bear, you need to come down. I need to talk to you about last night."
"Uh, sure. Can it wait for a shower?"
"I guess so, but make it quick."
Hanging up the phone, he winces. "He didn't sound to happy.
, I hope I didn't do something stupid."*****
"What's up?" Hank asks as he walks into the Cedar Rapids Police Motor pool.
"Over here, man," his buddy Joe calls from the other side of the garage. "It's these two. We have gone through about every system but can't figure it out. We get nothing."
Shaking his head, Hank gets to work. After a couple of hours, he has checked the electrical, mechanical, and main computer. everything checks out, but something keeps bothering him. Nothing he can put his finger on, however. Something just didn't feel right about the whole thing.
Hank goes over to a car that is running fine and goes over it the same way. The only thing different is that he isn't bothered by the setup. Shaking his head, he gets down and dirty, swapping part for part between the working and non-working vehicles.
An hour or so before dark, he's ready to check it out. Grunting and swearing (slightly) he gratefully drops into the seat of the first car. Taking a deep breath, he turns the key and it fires right up. A chuckle and a shake of the head later, he kills it, then walks confidently over to the other one. reaching in, he turns the key, expecting it to fire up just like the last one. And is disappointed.
Seriously grouchy, he steps back from the cars to think when he notices a group of three guys at the garage entrance. Taking a closer look, he realizes that he doesn't recognize them, and that their clothes are almost identical, almost uniformish.
"Hey, you there," he calls out, "what are you doing?"
They ignore him.
Grumbling about idiots, he starts across the bay to confront them when he slips on a patch of oil, falling and knocking himself out.
*****
While waiting for the bus, Emanon notices a couple of groups of people standing around, outside of normal foot traffic. They all seemed to be messing with pda's and looking at nothing in particular, and, oddly, wearing some kind of unobtrusive uniform.
Shaking his head, he gets on the bus when it arrives. "They don't seem to be doing anything illegal, and besides, I'm off duty."
The whole ride to the station, he sees more of them, in what looks like three separate uniforms but all doing the same things. Chalking it up to the aftereffects of his migraine, Emanon ignores them all the way to the station.
The LT doesn't keep him waiting long. "Emanon, come on in. Would you like some coffee, you look pretty bad."
"Thank you, sir. Uh, what's going on?"
"Ah yes, last night. That weirdness around midnight, what can you tell me about it?"
Squirming uncomfortably in his seat, Emanon is distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh...well, to be completely honest, I don't really remember."
"You don't remember? Come on now, it was your scene. Now tell me what happened!"
"Well, you see, I don't remember much of anything after 10pm last night. I don't know what happened after that. And this morning I woke up with a splitting headache"
The LT gets a concerned expression and leans forward. "You do look pretty terrible. Now, son, you do realize that you will be reprimanded if you were drinking on duty."
Getting more uncomfortable by the minute, Emanon denies the accusation.
"Well, something is effecting you in a bad way. I want you to go down to the med lab and get a drug test. Report back here with the results immediately."
"Yes sir." Emanon leaves the office feeling quite on the defensive, and again goes to the bus stop. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he slips off the curb in front of the bus, and cracks his head on the pavement.
*****
Feeling slightly better after his shower, Bear leaves the apartment. Living only three blocks from work is a definite advantage, and he takes the opportunity to pull himself together. letting the brisk winter air clear his head.
Reaching work, he looks up to go inside and stops dead in his tracks. The bar wasn't there. He looks around and swears he is in the right spot. Hell, he has been walking it every night for a couple of years, he should know. But it wasn't.
Confused, he decides to go back to his building, get his bearings, and walk back. Paying more attention on the return trip, everything seems right, except...something wasn't. The more he thought about what was wrong, the more sick to his stomach he got, until he couldn't stand without vomiting.
Dropping to the steps of his building, he calls his friend Chuck to give him a ride.
"A ride? You're kidding, right? I mean, you only live three blocks from work!"
"I know, I know, but I really need this. Just do it, ok?"
"All right, fine, I will be there in a minute."
While waiting, Bear manages to think of things other than the walk home, and begins to feel better when Chuck shows up.
After getting in, Chuck looks at him like he is starting to lose his mind. "Just drive, man," Bear tells him.
Even though Bear swears Chuck is going in the wrong direction, they get to the bar just fine. Refusing to think about it, Bear asks him to wait and goes inside.
Carl, his boss, is waiting for him. "Get in here!"
"Man, he sounds pissed. What the hell happened last night?"
Wasting no time, Carl lays into him. "Look, you know I have no problem with your lifestyle, but that incident with the gentleman last night will not be tolerated. You know the rules, no fraternization with customers when on the clock, and no fraternization with regulars, period! This applies to everyone, men, women, straights and gays alike! You know this!"
"Hey, Carl, just a minute now. You know I haven't been in a relationship for some months now. I don't know what happened last night, but I'm fairly certain I wasn't making out with anyone!"
Carl looks at him suspiciously. "Fairly certain? How can you be only 'fairly certain' about something like that?"
"I can't explain it. I just don't have any memory of happening after 10 last night."
"You better not be telling me you had more than the midnight Champaign last night! Whatever, either way, consider this your warning. Something like this happens again, you will need to find a new job."
Grumbling and definitely not happy, Bear leaves the office. He is soundly telling Carl of in his head when he missteps at the threshold of the bar and falls, knocking himself senseless.
***************
Hank wakes up, and sincerely wishes he hadn't. It feels like an elephant had stepped on his head. And refused to move.
Unable to lay down anymore, he crawls to the edge of the bed, forces himself to stand, and whimpers all the way to the bathroom. As he gets there, his phone starts to ring. Slapping a hand to his head, he quickly closes the door to stop the cacophony.
Nearly an hour later he comes out, feeling marginally better after downing half a bottle of aspirin and a long, long, hot shower. There is a message on the machine, which he ignores for the moment. He looks around the living room for evidence of the New Years Eve party he must have had judging by how he felt, and couldn't see any. Nor could he remember anything past 10pm the night before, when he was watching the tube, waiting for the ball to drop and find out if the world will fall apart when the clocks switch to 2000.
Disturbed, he hits play on the machine.
"Hank, this is Tom down at the Moro pool. We are having problems with a couple of cruisers. They won't start and nobody here can figure it out. If you could come down and check it out, we would appreciate it."
Sighing and grumbling about having no peace and quiet, Hank gets dressed and goes to catch the buss, feeling in no condition to drive.
*****
Opening his eyes with a not-so-slight whimper, Emanon wonders for an instant if he were dead. Then wishes he was when he tries to sit up.
Seeing no reason to subject himself to the torture of wakefulness, he fights the urge to vomit and tries to fall back to sweet, merciful sleep. Only to have his hopes shattered by the telephone.
Whimpering some more, he pulls a couple of pillows over his head to block the sound, ineffectually as it turns out.
Thankfully, or not, it cuts to the machine before rendering him unconscious. Sighing in relief, he listens to the message.
"Emanon, this is LT. Gorges. I need you to come down and answer a couple of questions about the incident last night. Get here as soon as you hear this."
Seeing no reason to subject himself to the torture of laying down any longer, he manages to sway upright and stumble into the bathroom, swallowing a mouthful of Motrin dry, then crawl into the shower.
As he spends the next hour or so waking up and letting the pills do their work, he tries to figure out just what the hell the LT was talking about. He had the night off, or he wouldn't have this horrendous hangover. Or did he? Through the haze of pain, Emanon recalls that he was, indeed on duty. So what the hell? Who knows, because he doesn't remember anything past 10.
Still confused, he gets dressed and calls the precinct to let them know that he was on his way.
*****
"I am going to kill somebody..." swears Bear as his phone rings, waking him up to blinding pain. He probably would have felt better if the roof had just fallen on his head.
"Bear, this is Carl. Get down here as soon as you get up, we need to talk."
"Man, I hope I didn't trash the bar partying last night. It's a good thing I took the night off to ring in 2000, or I wouldn't have a job right now!"
As Bear struggles into the bathroom to get some meds and a shower, a thought hits him hard enough to nearly knock him over.
"I _was_ working last night! Oh,
! If I got this drunk while working...wait...did I? can't remember a thing past 10. Great...just what I need."A good while later, Bear leaves the house feeling slightly better and walks to work. On the way, he notices several groups of people standing around, looking at everything and nothing, playing with PDA's. Shaking his head at the idiocy of some people, he turns the corner at the bar - and stops. The bar isn't here. "Am I so sick that I can lose myself in three blocks?" Then he notices there are a large number of the idiots, wearing what appears to be three different kinds of uniforms, looking around the building that Bear swears should be the bar.
Cursing himself for a fool, he turns around and starts walking back to his building, paying close attention to where he was walking. Nothing seems to be wrong, but he does seem to be getting sicker the more he thinks about it. Plopping onto his steps, he calls his friend Chuck for a ride to the Med Center.
*****
On the bus ride to the garage, Hank notices a number of groups of people along the way, not doing much of anything. Just standing around messing with their PDA's. One group of which was sitting at the back of the bus. The longer he looked at them, the more certain he was that the black clothes they were wearing were some kind of uniform.
Hank gets up to talk to them.
"Excuse me, but what I don't recognize your outfits. Who do you work with?"
The guy in black glances up, then back to his PDA. He seems to pause a minute, then looks back up at Hank quizzically. He then seems to point his hand-held at him and mess with it.
"Look, man," Hank says, "I am just curious. And do you mind putting that thing away?"
Looking at Hank again, the guy shrugs and puts his computer away. "Well," he starts, with a slightly British accent, "You could say we are with a slightly more Secret Service than the one you are used to dealing with."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, that is something I can't very well tell you, now is it?"
"Fair enough. Why is it that there are so many of you around. Is the President coming or something?"
The guy laughs, and says "No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well, you say you are with an ultra secret service, and you guys are everywhere. I was just wondering what brings you to the area all of a sudden."
"All of a sudden?" the guy answers in a questioning manner.
Hanks eyes widen at the comment, and he slowly backs away, returning to his seat.
When he arrives at the station, he is told about the cruisers, then asks where his best friend, Joe, is.
After finding him, he closes the door for privacy and asks to talk in confidence.
"Sure man. What's up?"
"This is going to sound strange, but have you noticed any strange guys around lately?"
"Strange, what do you mean by that?"
"Well, all morning I have been noticing these groups of guys in black pseudo-uniforms. I asked one what he was up to and why they are here all of a sudden, and he seemed surprised at my question, implying that they had always been here."
Joe gets a thoughtful look on his face and sits back. "You know, these guys do sound familiar. If I am right, these guys are around the library every so often."
"The library? You mean the Masonic Library?"
"Yeah, and if you had taken my invitation to join, you probably would have seen them also."
"Well,..is there enough cars for duty today?"
"Sure, why?"
"Good, then let's work on the cruisers later. Will you take me to the Library today?"
"I suppose so. It's been a while since I had a guest, so they shouldn't have a problem with it."
As they get close, Hank notices that he is having trouble focusing on the Library building. He blinks, rubs at his eyes, and looks again. Still not clear.
"Hey, Joe, does the building look funny to you?"
"Uh, no, why? You know, you don't really look good. You sure you'd rather not go to the ER?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. It's pass." For the rest of the ride, Hank makes it a point not to look at the building.
Upon arrival, Joe takes them inside - and stops. Hank looks up and sees that the foyer is filled with black uniformed people.
"Holy...what is going on, Joe?"
"I don't know, man. I've never seen this many."
Hank shrugs and walks up to a few. "Excuse me."
The gentleman looks at him, eyes widen in surprise, then turns to face Hank, his PDA pointed at him. "Yeah?"
"Uh, do you mind not pointing that thing at me?"
"What...oh, my PDA? I'm not pointing it at you. Why would I do that? I just turned toward you so we could talk."
"Really, you don't say. Can I take a look at what you are working on?"
"No, it's classified."
"Classified, how?" Hank takes a step forward. The guy in black doesn't move, but pushes Hank away.
Due to his condition, Hank loses his balance, falls, and hits his head...
*****
On the bus ride to the station, Emanon, in turn notices the large numbers of strangely uniformed people standing around. Disturbed by it, but unable to do anything at the moment, he waits patiently to arrive.
The LT wastes no time in calling him in.
"Now, Detective, we need some clarification on the incident last night."
Wincing slightly at the pain in his head, Emanon replies "Which incident would that be, sir?"
Puzzled, the LT replies "The one at the old Mosque. Which other one would it be? Did you leave something out of your report?"
"Uh, no sir, not that I am aware of. To be honest, I don't recall right off hand what did happen. I must have cracked my head on something."
"Yeah, you certainly don't look like you are feeling well. Why don't you go home and get some rest."
"Thank you sir, but I would rather take a trip out to the Mosque to get my head straight."
"If you want to do that, I can't stop you. You are off duty. But I will say, that if anything happens, you will be on duty. So why don't you take Frank with you so you have help. You look like you will need it."
"Yes, sir."
As Emanon and Frank approach the Mosque, Emanon starts to feel queasy. Trying to shake it off, he starts to look around, and begins to feel better. Looking back at the Mosque, the feeling hits him again. Almost like he was looking at something in motion, but not really moving. Just the idea of it makes him nearly car sick.
"Frank,"
"Yeah?"
"Do you...oh, never mind." Emanon makes it a point not to look at the building as they park.
Getting out of the car, he notices a group of guys in what looks to be blue uniforms walking around the building.
"Hey, you there, I need to talk to you a minute!"
The turn to see who is talking, do a double take, and play with their PDA's.
"I've had about enough of this weirdness for one day," Emanon thinks, and strides purposefully towards the group, only to slip on the grass and crack his head on a rock...
*****
"Are you ok, Bear?"
Bear looks up from his steps at Chuck, who had just pulled up. "No, I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't have called for a ride to Med Center, now would I?"
Shrugging, he just waits until Bear gets in, then heads off.
Bear, trying to take his mind off his queasiness, watches the scenery. As he does, he starts to get a little confused, as he is sure they are going in the wrong direction. He decides to not say anything, especially after this morning's incident with the walk to work.
A few minutes later he sees the Brucemoore mansion. Using the grounds and backdrop for a distraction from the ride, he still finds his eyes drawn to the mansion itself. And looks harder. The perspective of the place seems a little off, with different wings appearing closer or further away with no apparent pattern. shuddering away from the place, Bear turns his attention back to the ride. Then it hits him!
"Hey, Chuck, we just passed Brucemoore."
"Yeah, so?"
"I told you how sick I am, so why are you going in the wrong direction?"
Chuck gets a concerned look on his face. "You really don't feel well, do you? Brucemoore is only a few streets from the center. We're almost there."
Bear feels a little stupid, but is still wary, until a few minutes later they pull into the center's parking lot. Very confused, he makes a note to tell the doctor everything, even if he winds up in the loony bin.
Once inside he checks in with the desk nurse, and walks into the waiting room. As he is sitting, he notices a couple of groups of guys in what seems to be purplish uniforms.
"Chuck, who are they?"
"Who?"
"Those guys over there. I've been seeing them all over today. I'm going to go over and talk to them." Bear gets up and starts walking toward them. Now, having a rather large man bearing down on you with get the attention of the average person, and these fellows are no different. One sees him and nudges a companion. They turn their attentions and PDA's onto Bear.
About halfway across the room, Bear, who has his full attention on the men across the room, fails to see the chair pulled out from the wall. Tripping over it he falls and cracks his head...
***************
"What a nice night," Hank thinks to himself as he yawns himself awake. He sits up on the side of his bed, smiling. "Man, I feel great! I wish I woke up like this every morning."
He sets about his morning routine humming, something he rarely does. "Man, what a night, relaxing around the house and...come to think of it, I can't remember!" Everything after 10pm is a blank. "Hmm, reminds me of what happened a year ago today. Strange, I never did figure out what happened. I wonder why I never followed up on it?"
This train of thought kind of dampers his mood, and he continues to remember that day. All the people in uniform, the trip with Joe to the Library, the tour, seeing one of the original books of Mormon, getting weirded out and leaving. The car problems were easy, just a short in the ignition, no reason the mechanics on duty shouldn't have found it, but oh well.
The year went by with little to remark on. Well, except for that election thing, but it got sorted out. Thinking back, Hank realizes that the entire year of 2000 is extremely clear except for that first day and last night...
The front doorbell interrupts his reverie. He walks quietly up to the door and looks out the peephole - and recoils in shock! Those three men were wearing black uniforms like the guys from a year ago.
Starting to feel a little paranoid, Hank heads quietly to the back door, only to see three men in purplish uniforms coming up the back walk. worried now, he goes back into the living room, only to have the doorbell ring again, then the telephone.
Not about to pick it up, Hank looks at the caller id. "Classified." He had never seen that before. He decides to let the machine take it.
"Hank, I know you're in there. You don't know us, but we need to talk about last year. There are people at your doors right now, but it is imperative that you do not speak to them. Call us at 555-0847 to set up a meeting place."
Completely freaked, Hank checks the doors again, and sees that they are still there. He then goes and calls 911.
"911 emergency response. How may we help you?"
"There are two groups of suspicious men at my front and back doors and I have received a disturbing phone call. Can you send an officer?"
"Calm down, sir. Are they trying to enter the residence?"
"No, ma'am, but I do not feel safe at the moment."
"Ok sir. remain in the house and do not attempt to interact with these men. A cruiser is on the way."
"Thank you."
*****
Emanon wakes to pleasantly warm sunshine on his face. Feeling extremely content, he sees no reason to rush getting out of bed, even though he is no longer tired. Stretching, he realizes he has never felt quite so good, unlike last years New Years Day. "Man, that was horrible!" Smiling now because the pain is a distant memory he thinks back to the party last night. And sits bolt upright in bed.
"I don't remember a damn thing!" Starting to sweat, he remembers that he was given the night off to avoid a repeat of last year. Feeling better for that fact, he is still disturbed that just like a year ago, he can remember nothing past 10 of the previous night.
While he is thinking, the telephone rings. Dreading a call from the station he picks up.
"Mr. Jones, we need to talk about last year." The man on the other end has a distinct British accent.
"Who is this, and how do you know about last year?"
"That is all part of what we need to talk about. We cannot do it over the phone. Meet us at the office building across from the Masonic Library as soon as you can, and do not talk to the men coming to your home!"
"What men-" but they had hung up.
The whole situation felt strange, but he did feel a need to get some answers, so he got up and began to dress. As he was walking out of his room, there was a knock at the front door. Cautiously, he walks into the living room and looks out the peephole to see three men in a purplish uniform. Backing slowly away from the door, there comes a knock at the back. Emanon starts to feel a little nervous, but goes to look anyway, and finds another three men in a bluish uniform.
Striding into his room, he calls the station.
"LT. Gorges."
"Sir, this is Detective Jones."
"What can I do for you Emanon?"
Well, I have a couple groups of strange men at my doors and I have received a disturbing telephone call. I was wondering if you could send a car."
"Uh, sure. Stay where you are, Greg will be there in a few minutes."
*****
"What a wonderful morning," thinks Bear, as he sits on the edge of his bed. "I haven't felt this good since...well, since never. I have never felt this good! What a difference from last year! the headaches, the problems at work, the memory loss..." Bear trails off as he realizes he is having another problem with his memory. He was at the bar enjoying the New Years' party, but can't remember anything after 10, just like the previous year.
This realization puts a serious damper on his mood, and he goes into the kitchen for breakfast. As he pulls the bread out, the front doorbell rings. Wondering who the hell is bothering him this early, he goes to check the peephole, finding three men in bluish uniforms.
"What do you want?" he calls through the door.
"Bear, we need to talk to you."
"About what? You don't look like police to me."
"We're not. We need to talk about last year."
"If you're not cops, then go away. I don't even want to think about last year, let alone talk about it!" Starting to feel a little hunted, Bear backs away from the door, and the phone rings. Checking the id, it shows up as "Classified." He is definitely not going to answer that one! Grabbing his coat and a baseball bat, he goes into the kitchen and out onto the fire escape. He climbs down into the alley and turns to walk out only to find three men in black uniforms right behind him.
Raising his bat he says "What the hell do you want?"
"We just want to talk to you about last year."
"I told you that I don't want to talk about it! Now go away!"
"You didn't tell us that. Look, we are not here to hurt you in any way, so why don't you put the bat down so we can talk."
Refusing to answer, Bear turns away and starts toward the other end, only to find three men in purplish uniforms walking into the alley. Determined not to be taken without a fight, Bear charges the men in purple, bursting out of the alley at a run. After a while, he sees that there is no one following him, so he slows to catch his breath when his cell phone rings.
"What do you want?" he demands.
"Bear, we just want to talk. You did good in avoiding the others. Now we need to set up a meeting place."
"Look, I don't want to talk to anybody about anything!" Hanging up the phone, he thinks for a minute, then calls his friend Chuck.
"Hey, I need a place to lay low for a while. Can I crash there?"
"Sure, man, anytime."
*****
Hank looks out the front window to see an officer talking with the men about halfway down the walk. Seeing a clear shot to his car, he decides to make a break for it. Throwing open the front door he bolts to his car.
"Hank, wait!" the officer calls, but Hank ignores him. He tears out of the driveway, only to see the cruiser hit it's lights and follow him, with the men in black in another car behind that.
Deciding that it would be harder to be taken in a public place, he uses the radio in his car to call dispatch.
"This is Hank Parsons from the motor pool."
"Go ahead, Hank."
"I need you to call car 23 and let them know that I will pull over in the Barnes and Noble parking lot."
"Will do."
Feeling slightly better, Hank makes sure to take the most direct route there. Pulling into the lot, he stops and gets out of the car.
The officer gets out of the car with his hand on his gun. "Stay right there, Hank. Don't move."
"Fine. I just wanted to get somewhere public to avoid any problems."
"That's understandable, sir, but I still need you to stay by the car." As he speaks, the men in black pull up.
"Now Hank, these gentlemen just want to talk to you. They have a valid complaint, and I see no reason to drag this out."
"I will have no problem talking to them as soon as a few things are straightened out. A lot of strange things are going on this morning." Right then, his cell phone rings. He takes it out, looks at it, then hands it to the officer. "Like that."
The officer takes it, sees the id as "Classified" and says "I've never seen one of those before."
"I told you! Go ahead, you answer it."
"This is Officer Terry, who is this?" The officer proceeds to have a short conversation, then hands the phone back. "Um, they just want to talk to you..."
Hank takes it and hangs it up without looking. "Now do you see why I am feeling a little paranoid?"
"I guess so. But what about these guys?"
Hank turns to the three men. "Look, the only one I will talk with is the guy I talked to on the bus last year." He turns back to the cop. "Look, can we go inside? I will do what I can to explain what is going on."
Agreeing, the officer has his partner stay out here with the strangers, then walks into the bookstore with Hank.
As they walk in, Hank notices two men in bluish uniforms at one of the coffee shop tables. Once of which has a cell phone that he raises to Hank in recognition. Feeling hounded, Hank takes the officer back to the religion section, where he sees three men in purplish uniforms browsing the aisles. Repressing a shudder, he grabs the Book of Mormon from the shelves and sits down.
"Ok, this all started last year. Remember when the cars had a problem starting on New Years' day? Well, they called me in to look at them, but I was having a slight problem with my memory of the night before."
"Oh, you're _that_ guy!"
"Yeah. Well, anyway, I had seen groups of men that morning wearing the same uniforms as those three out there, the two in the coffee shop, and the three right over there. I asked my friend Joe about them, and he said he recognized the black uniforms from the Masonic Library."
"Oh, Man, you didn't go messing with the Masons, did you?"
"No, he just took me over to the Library and showed me around. I saw a few of them, then this," raising Book of Mormon, "and left."
"Then?"
"Then nothing. The year went by without me seeing a single one of them. I know, because I can remember last year with disturbing clarity. Then, this morning happens."
"What exactly happened this morning?"
"Well, I woke up feeling great, then the doorbell rings, and those yahoos in black were there. I go to leave out the back, the guys in purple were there. Then the phone rings with that same id as you saw. I let the machine take it and there is a guy wanting to talk to me about last year, and he knew about the other groups. You see how a guy can start to get paranoid?"
"Yeah. Hell, I'm starting to get paranoid myself!"
"See? And it's not even happening to _you_. So, that's pretty much where we stand. Now, if you think I should talk to them, I will. You said they had a valid complaint. What was it?"
The officer gets a slightly puzzled look on his face. "You know, I'm not really sure..."
Hank leans back and spreads his arms, point made. "So, what do you recommend?"
Thinking for a minute, the officer shrugs. "Why don't you go talk to the guys in the coffee shop."
"Alright then. Let's go." They stand and walk up front.
Hank and the officer approach the table and sit. "Ok, I'm ready to talk."
The man with the phone looks at the officer. "He needs to be outside."
"No, he stays, or I don't talk."
The man and the officer look at each other, then they both nod. All three turn to Hank, who looks like he just got hit between the eyes with a hammer.
"We are with an organization called Strike Force Chronos."
*****
Emanon looks out the door, sees that the detective is talking to the men in purple, and walks out to see what is going on. The three see Emanon and start toward him. The other detective sees this and moves to Emanon's side. "That is far enough." The three stop.
Emanon looks at the officer. "I need a ride out of here, do you mind?"
"Not at all, let's go."
When they are both in the car, they see that the others are following.
"Ditch them?" Emanon asks.
"No, they aren't doing anything threatening, don't worry about it. Where are we going?"
"Down to the offices next to the Masonic Library."
Emanon's cell rings. Looking at it, he sees the banner "Classified" and looks in the rear-view mirror. One of the men in the car is using a cell.
"What do you want?" He asks when he answers.
"We need to talk about last year."
"Yeah, and so do a bunch of other people. Why should I stop for you?"
"Look, you don't need to talk to the others, they are misguided."
"Really...I'm sure they would say the same about you."
"Yes, they probably would, but they would be wrong."
"Ok, whatever. I'll talk. What do you want?"
"Not over the phone. If you are set on talking to the others first, meet us at the Mosque when you are done."
"Ok, but you need to stop following us."
There is no answer, but the car makes the next right turn.
"Man, this is getting creepy." The other detective just shrugs. A few minutes later, they arrive.
"So you want me to come in?"
"No, stay out here and keep an eye on things."
A man in a black uniform answers the door. "Ah, Emanon, so good of you to come. This way, please." They walk through to a back office and are joined by two others.
"Ok, I'm here, now who are you, and what do you want?"
"We work with a group called MI-Infinity, and we need to talk about what happened last year."
*****
"Hey, thanks for letting me crash here," Bear says to Chuck.
"No problem, man. What's going on?"
"A lot of crazy stuff, man. People calling, knocking on my door, finding me in alleys. They seem to know where I am. I seem to have ditched them, though."
"That sounds freaky. What have you been getting into?"
"Nothing! I don't know-"a knock at the front door. Bear looks at Chuck suspiciously.
"Don't look at me like that, man. That's just Tom and Frank. They are here to play cards."
Bear looks completely unconvinced.
"Look, man, if you're worried, go to my room, I'll get rid of them."
Chuck goes to the door, turns and waits for Bear to go into the back.
There is no way bear was going to wait around to find out who was at the door. He slides open the bedroom window and climbs out. He no more than left the alley than his cell phone rings. Bear takes it out of his pocket and tosses it. He then runs down to the mall.
He spends the rest of the day in completely public places, the book store, the mall, he even catches a movie. No one bothers him.
Finally feeling safe, he goes home and hits the sack.
The next morning Bear wakes up, smiles about how he avoided everyone, and goes to get up. Only to find he can't move. He opens his eyes to find himself tied to a bed in a dim but comfortably appointed room.
"Bear, so nice of you to finally join us."
"Who are you?"
"We just want to talk."
"Then why the hell am I tied up?"
"We didn't want you to do anything rash."
"Look, if you just wanted to talk, why didn't you try doing it normally?"
"We did, but you did everything you could do to avoid us. By the way, here is you cell phone."
An object that does indeed feel like his cell is pressed into his hand
"Fine, if you want to talk, then let me up. It's certainly not civil to keep a man tied up like this."
"And you will listen? You won't try to run?"
"What's the point, you'll just hunt me down again. I will listen."
He feels his bonds loosen, and he is able to sit up. He looks around the unusual room, finding it just a little off, but in a way he couldn't figure out. There are three men in purplish uniforms on the other side of the room, looking at him.
"Alright, I'm listening."
The look at each other, then the one in the middle steps forward.
"We are representatives of what some have called the Reptoids."
*****
