It’s about time, part 3

chapter eleven

All the Freemasons were stunned by Apep’s sudden appearance. They stood like statues as he announced.

“I bring a great gift. I have conquered a mighty enemy of mankind.”

One of the soldiers by the door recovered from his stun. He quickly moved his hand behind his back to hide the handcuffs. At the same time he took a slow step towards Apep to interpose himself between him and the soldier holding the cosh. The other soldier noticed the handcuffs and carefully stuck the cosh out of sight in the waistband of his trousers at the back.

Apep continued his rehearsed speech.

“Not since the great god Thoth played senit with Ra and won five more days in the year has a victory been scored over this enemy. I speak not of the defeat of Ra, but of time. Yes, time itself, that ever-present stricture, that most unyielding and weighty binding. No more. Brothers, those manacles lie shattered at our feet.”

Apep made a planned pause for dramatic effect. Surveying his audience he did not see the joyous response he had expected. The faces of the three men on the couch, and the one behind it, held only shock, which he could understand. However Apep could not understand why the two other men in the room, the ones standing near the door, had blank expressions, almost as though they were not even listening. This was worrying for Apep because he was working to a very precise plan. He had allotted a certain time for his introductory speech, before he moved on to explaining what he wanted, and why he had chosen this specific time and place for the rendezvous. It was very important to Apep that the introduction and explanation were finished within their allotted time. Realising his calculations had been perhaps too precise, he hurried on to the final part of his introduction, hoping for the best.

“I have made experiments, and conducted operations which would not have been possible but for the help of our brotherhood. As witnessed by the method of my arrival, you can see that I have succeeded. And so I return with this gift. The gift of time, or perhaps the end of time.”

Usser noticed from the corner of his eye that the two soldiers had been edging towards Apep. This helped focus his mind on the matter in hand: the trial (after a moment of congratulating himself for having picked those two individuals to bring with him on this mission).

“I am Usser. I ask you why we meet in this place?”

The distraction worked. The two soldiers were on Apep as soon as he turned his attention to Usser to give him an answer. Coming at Apep from his left, the first Freemason grabbed the wires from the personal stereo, pulling two earphones from the bandaged lump on the side of his neck. This caused Apep to wince in pain, which gave the soldier time to swing the handcuffs and capture Apep’s left wrist. Next moment the soldier staggered back, his head rolling as though he had been hit; Apep had pulled his right hand out of his pocket and jabbed at the man. The second soldier pushed vaguely at his companion to get him out of his way, as well as out of the fight. He blundered past a candle, knocking it over. It went out on the floor. There was something red and white in Apep’s right hand, something he had obviously used to neutralise the first man to attack him, but the second soldier could not see what it was. He drew his cosh and took a fighting stance waiting for the third soldier to enter the fray.

Late into the fight, but anxious to make up for it, the third soldier stepped clumsily over the sofa, with no weapon drawn, but with his hands extended. Apep went for him and was expertly caught at the wrist and elbow. The third soldier twisted Apep’s right arm, applying a restraining hold he had learnt in the French police force. A technique common to all police forces was then applied by the other soldier: the immobilised Apep was coshed. The blunt instrument landed on his left shoulder, just by the neck and he slumped. The soldier applying the restraint released it so he could support the now limp man.

Uncertain of the efficacy of the noise proofing foam, Usser ordered everybody back to the roof. As he cast a worried look at the bedroom door, Nefer whispered to him “Should I have them taken care of?”

“Enough people have died in this.” Usser looked at Nefer as he replied. Nefer saw only coldness there. Usser held his glance as first the left, then the right side of his face went dark as the candles were extinguished and gathered (the foam would dissolve in one hour, leaving no trace).

Naturally the soldiers were concerned with guarding Apep, the defendant in this case, and with carrying him up the stairs. Also, they were concerned about one of their comrades who had been “hit” and required help in getting up the stairs. Finally, their professional interest had been aroused by the weapon Apep had used - it was a taser baton, but smaller and lighter than any that they had seen, and of an unfamiliar design. It interested them; they wanted to see where the shock strength was adjusted, where the batteries were kept, what the batteries looked like, how it was activated, they wanted, in short, to play with it.

With all these distractions they forgot to keep a close eye on Kepker and consequently he was able to pocket the personal stereo Apep had carried. Kepker had not noticed the significance of the personal stereo at first, but when the soldier attacked, he had realised its importance. The stereo had been on when Apep arrived, but he had switched it off immediately. Therefore it had something to do with his sudden arrival. As the soldier had also deduced, it could therefore give him the ability to make a sudden departure.

Had the soldier not been as groggy, following his light electric shock, it is likely he would have remembered the stereo.

chapter twelve

The time came for Apep to speak in the trial. The man who had coshed him brought him round.

He could remember what had happened downstairs, and realised that his original objective was not now attainable. He found that he did not have his personal stereo, or his taser weapon. He presumed they had been taken by his apprehenders. Suspicion was to be expected he supposed, and he calmed his temper, thinking that he would have done the same thing in their position.

When Usser told him he was actually on trial, however, Apep got angry properly. These Freemasons were obviously too stupid or narrow minded to be the right people to bring his discovery to mankind. But he had to keep his anger cold: there was nothing he could do without his sounds. He had to play along and hope to get away later. Apep told himself that he had not come all this way and done all those things, to throw it away in a fit of anger. He took his seat in the appointed place and accepted a Masonic tool and whispered his formal affirmations to be truthful.

“Eight murder investigations have been stopped by your superior. Did you commit any or all of these murders?”

“To overthrow the tyranny of time-”

“I do not seek a justification now,” Usser interrupted, “if indeed any can be made. I ask the question again. Did you commit any or all of the murders?”

Apep paused. It was not important that he had done it, what was important was why. Eight lonely women was a cheap price for time travel. But from Usser’s line it seemed to Apep that he would have to answer now to justify himself later. “Yes all of them.” he admitted. “To overthrow the tyranny of time.” he repeated.

“You speak of tyranny.” Usser paused, thinking. “And the rule not to sin, is that also a tyranny?”

“We sin in war do we not? We kill then, for the prize of freedom. So I killed them, and others besides. It was the price. It was necessary.”

Usser’s face was partially hidden by his mask, but he was clearly somewhat shocked by the unrepentant mass murderer before him. He said nothing immediately.

Kepker noticed that a new kind of silence had fallen following Apep’s statements. Looking left and right, he noticed the soldiers were shocked too. More importantly, in their distaste they were looking down at the roof, rather then keeping their eyes on the defendant. Now was Kepker’s moment. Certain that the Freemasons would kill him following the trial, he must now throw in his lot with Apep.

“Take me with you!“ Kepker rushed forwards and dived to where Apep sat, the personal stereo in his outstretched hands. Everyone took a moment to react to this sudden action in the stillness of the proceedings. Before the guards could get up and cross the space to reach Apep, he had grabbed the stereo. Holding the earphones against the lump attached to his neck with one hand, he pressed play with the other. His neck straightened and his face twisted in pain for a moment before he disappeared.

Two of the guards were in mid-leap at the moment of Apep’s departure. They collided with each other and landed on the floor. Seeing their confusion, and panicking at his own continued presence on the roof, Kepker ran. It was hopeless, he could not hope to evade all five guards for long. They closed in on him gradually, not giving him the opportunity to get to the access door, or the edge of the roof. Neither escape was to be allowed.

Kepker felt himself grabbed by the waist from behind, he struggled briefly then a voice he recognised said “It’s me!” He let himself be pulled.

As he watched the second of his prisoners vanish Usser felt great rage building up inside him. One of the staffs in his left hand snapped and the other two fell to the mat. “What to do now?” he asked himself.

His masked head turned to look at Nefer.

chapter thirteen

“Considering how long we were at it last night, I feel surprisingly well rested this morning.” Elaine sat back on the sofa, her arms stretched out along its back, her legs up and her feet resting on the coffee table. She was fully clothed in what she had worn the day before.

Her remark was addressed to Charlotte who was just coming out of the bathroom wearing make-up and an open towelling robe. “It’s about time to go.” Charlotte said in passing, brushing Elaine’s knee with a finger. “You’d best put your tights on.”

Elaine sighed. Having worked in the same room for six months, she had noticed that Charlotte was grumpy in the mornings. She had always thought it was the bus ride in to the office. “Where are they?”

“By the table. The computer.” Charlotte called back from the bedroom.

When she bent over to pick them, Elaine noticed a candle had rolled under the sofa, and stopped against one of the castors. Odd, she thought, the flat being so tidy. Elaine had just put her tights and shoes on when she heard Charlotte coming out of the bedroom. She picked up the candle and turned round.

“Where d’you keep your candles?”

“Isn’t this your shirt?” Charlotte held a women’s plain white shirt and had spoken at the same time as Elaine.

“Where did you get that?” Charlotte asked, seeming angry.

“On the floor. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have candles in the house! I never have! Where was it?” Charlotte exclaimed. When she saw Elaine’s face she realised what she was saying. “Sorry. Sorry I didn’t mean to be like that.” She apologised in a softer voice. “There was nearly an accident at my parents’ house once, and ever since I’ve never ..... you know. So I was surprised. Sorry.”

“That’s OK. And it’s not my shirt, this is what I was wearing yesterday.” Elaine held her arms slightly away from her body and struck a subtle fashion-photo pose with a fluid rotation of her wrists and a stretch of her fingers.

“But it’s not mine.” Charlotte checked the label in the collar. It was not a brand she recognised.

Elaine lifted a sleeve. She did not expect to find anything, she was just following Charlotte’s own inspection. “It must be somebody else’s.”

“Whose?” Charlotte frowned, then looked Elaine in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“Just somebody who stayed over or something.”

“There hasn’t been anybody staying over.” Charlotte said indignantly.

“All right. It’s no big deal. I was just thinking about the shirt.”

“Yes but ..... I just wanted to say .....” Charlotte stuttered to a halt. What had she wanted to say exactly? She didn’t know. “Better get going.” She turned to get her case and go. Just as she reached the door, Elaine spoke again.

“It’s Imogen’s.” Elaine had been left with the shirt.

“It can’t be. How’d you know?”

“I recognise this spot on it.” Elaine held the shirt up to Charlotte, presenting a sleeve on which there was a small black stain. “It’s toner. I remember seeing it there yesterday.”

chapter fourteen

It was lunch-time and Charlotte was considering where to go for something indulgent, unhealthy and expensive. She hoped this would cheer her up after her bad morning; one of her worst ever.

She had shouted at Elaine before leaving her place; about candles of all things, and then about how bitter she was about being single since her last split-up. Then on the bus, she had been positively sarcastic to Elaine about her impossible suggestion that Imogen had been at her place last night.

Charlotte was sure that Elaine would now not wish to go out with her ever again. Nobody wanted to go out with those dependent types. Elaine had got to know her at work, where she was professional, reliable, easygoing and, above all, self-sufficient. Now she probably thought that this was just Charlotte’s office persona. She probably thought that underneath the pleasant and relaxed façade was a bitter, unpleasant, up-tight and fucked-up individual. Furthermore, Charlotte felt she had made herself appear to be one of those people who, once you get close to them, burden you with the collection of faults that comprises their personality, and expect you to shoulder that burden on the basis of your intimacy.

She had now thrown away the only chance at losing her single status in ten months. She would be single and sad for the rest of her life. And she really liked Elaine and the sex had been about the best ever.

Just as she was resolved to go to lunch her manager, John, came into her and Elaine’s room.

“Hi Charlotte. Really good work on the Warhol report. I can see you put in a lot of extra time. Thanks for that.”

“Oh that’s OK.” Charlotte answered vaguely.

“Are you all right Charlotte?”

“Yes sorry. Miles away. I’m glad it’s what you were looking for.”

“More than what I was looking for. I was impressed, and Margaret will be too, I’m having a meeting with her this afternoon.” John nodded and turned to Elaine. “Actually I came to see you too Elaine, about Imogen.”

Charlotte got up. The good news about her work had depressed her further. She was still in touch with her ex-, and when asked what she was up to she had only ever been able to think of something about work to say.

“Just going to lunch.” she said quietly as she passed John and Elaine.

Elaine transferred her attention from John with a barely vocalised apology. “Aren’t we going together?”

“Oh. OK.” Charlotte stood by the door.

“I won’t be long.” John said. “Nobody’s seen Imogen since yesterday afternoon. Ben mentioned you spoke to her yesterday afternoon about something and I wondered if she’d said anything.”

chapter fifteen

“Maybe somebody put her shirt in your case. That could explain how it ended up in your flat.”

Elaine was thinking out loud about possible scenarios of Imogen’s disappearance. Charlotte was eating a tuna salad sandwich, without mayonnaise or butter, off a plastic plate at Tim’s Sandwich Café - the place where she bought her lunch most working days.

Elaine’s baked potato arrived and she stopped talking. Charlotte noticed her intent expression - her attention had shifted to the problem of the butter and cheese in her potato. Charlotte had been waiting for an opportunity to talk, and not about Imogen’s shirt, which had turned up at Charlotte’s flat, nor about Imogen’s watch, which had been left at the office.

“I wasn’t sure we’d be having lunch after my performance this morning.”

Elaine looked up from her potato, a perplexed frown on her face.

“I mean all that stuff about the candle and the shirt.” Charlotte explained.

“You’re always like that in the morning.” Elaine went back to her plate with a smile.

“Am I?” Charlotte felt deflated.

“Mm” Elaine nodded. “It doesn’t matter.” She took her first forkful of potato and cheese.

They both ate in silence for a few minutes.

“So you’re saying somebody abducted her and put her shirt in my case?”

“Where did you find it?”

“Just on the floor with my shirt. Where you dropped it.” The two women exchanged a slightly blushing smile as they remembered how they had undressed each other the previous night: starting cautiously in the living room, finishing passionately in the bedroom.

Elaine sifted possibilities. Possibly she was wrong about it being Imogen’s shirt. Possibly Imogen had more than one shirt with a stain in that place - Elaine recalled that she had two skirts with near identical ink stains on from where a pen in a draw in her desk had leaked ink which had soaked through the wood to the spot where Elaine’s left knee habitually rested against it. Possibly Charlotte was lying about nobody having stayed over for the last how ever many months - but then why would Elaine have brought the shirt to her attention then? Maybe she had not recognised it. Elaine kept her ruminations to herself and decided to leave the issue for now.

Elaine and Charlotte ate and talked about people in the office for the rest of lunch. They left Tim’s in time to be back at the office one hour after they had left. They walked side by side, close but not touching.

Suddenly both of them felt an arm around their waist, and for a moment assumed it was the other, until a voice said “Hi you two! How’s it going? Have you just had lunch?”

They both looked at the person who now walked between them with an arm around each of them. It was Imogen. She was dressed in sensible shoes, a cream coloured skirt which reached to her knees, and a bra. She was switching between smiling at Elaine, and smiling at Charlotte. They were both so surprised that they could not speak and just kept on walking. People on the street stopped and stared.

Before the situation could sink in to either Elaine or Charlotte, and any reply be made, Imogen released them and with a cheery “See you tonight then.” and hurried off around a corner. People on the street concluded she was a mad woman who had just accosted two office workers on the way back from lunch.

A few seconds later Elaine and Charlotte reached the corner themselves and looked. A policeman was standing by a car and talking on his radio. “It’s here just like they said. Looks pro, not much entry damage. Yeah, driver’s wing’s dented. And the stereo’s been ripped. All right, I’ll stay till the crew get here.”

“She didn’t have a shirt on.” Charlotte observed, faintly.

“And no watch.” Elaine added.