Edward Graves: Temporal Detective

Jessica and Edward were marched into the observation room and were each forced into a chair. The Black Glove agent tied their arms and legs in turn, first Edward and then Jessica.

“I’d never been tied up before I met you,” whispered Jessica as she strained against her ropes, “but since I’ve met you, it’s happened twice. Twice! What does that tell you?”

“You used to lead a boring life?”

Jessica opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it again. “Fair point.”

Harbinger stood with his back to them, hands clasped gently and gazing down at the Complete Temporal Observation Stand-Point below.

“Time is such a beautiful thing,” he said to nobody in particular, his voice muffled by his scarf. “We truly are in a blessed position, to see that truth more than most.” He turned around and slowly stepped towards Edward and Jessica. “Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?”

“I actually prefer to live life like a broken pencil,” said Edward. “Pointless.”

Harbinger scoffed, “You rely on humour and wit to give you control over difficult situations Mr. Graves. Admirable.” He slammed a gloved fist straight into Edwards jaw.

Jessica strained against her bonds and gritted her teeth as bone cracked against bone.

“Admirable, but very irritating.”

“That’s my biography right there,” said Edward seemingly unaffected by the assault. Fortunately he didn’t seem to have any broken teeth.

Jessica took a look around the room, it was fairly large but there were only two chairs, upon which they were sitting, which gave Jessica the impression that it was operated by a skeleton crew. Consoles and displays lined the walls and at the far end of the room, there was a balcony in place of a wall, which looked out over The Furnace. Blue tendrils of light danced and erupted upwards at the balcony, like the solar flares of a blue sun.

A familiar looking machine was wired up to one of the consoles; a patch up job of two barely compatible technologies. It was about the size of a briefcase and had a small tray for inserting samples, various tubes and modules criss-crossed their way around the machine in an intricate network of circuitry. Jessica immediately recognised it from the photo that Edward had shown her of the Genetic Imprint Isolator, stolen from the Indonesian government. Hayden Crawlfield and another Black Guard agent, the one who had apprehended them, were standing silently in the corner.

Harbinger turned his attention to Jessica. “What’s wrong Miss Lazarus, you look like you’ve got something on your mind. Would you like to say something?”

Jessica averted her gaze, but he gripped her by the chin turned her head, so that she was forced to stare into his deep blue eyes, which peered over his red scarf. She heard Edward yelling futile commands and warnings, but Harbinger just laughed.

The more that she looked into his dazzling, blue eyes, the more she thought that they seemed familiar. Then a light switched flicked on in her mind, “Doctor Churchill?”

Harbinger herked backwards in surprise, letting go of her.

“Jessica,” said Edward, “what did you say?”

“It’s Dr. Chruchill,” she repeated. “I recognise the eyes.”

Edward stared at Harbinger, who took a few more steps backwards. “Hmm...the heavy coat makes it difficult to determine build, so the difference is negligible. Height’s a match, as is hair and eye colour; complexion. Aargh, I am so stupid! How did I not see this before? First rule of investigation: never trust the victim!”

“Wait, so I’m right?”

“I think you are.”

“Wow. Not bad for a student, eh?”

Harbinger furrowed his brow and Jessica was pretty sure that he was growling. But then his expression softened and he reached up with his gloved hands and began unwinding his red scarf.

“No matter,” he said, just as his scarf came off completely, revealing the tanned and not altogether unattractive face of Dr. Chruchill, Curator of the Archfield Museum. “Even if you were both going to live for more than a few more minutes, my plan is near completion. Nothing can stop us now!”

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Over the top, much?”

“Like that Sylvester Stallone movie,” said Edward.

Harbinger fixed them with an intense stare, but then relaxed and smiled. He seemed to be constantly at war with two different personalities. “Childish jokes won’t save either of you.” Then, as if to punctuate the end of the conversation, he turned his back on them and strode over to the G.I.I. He rummaged around inside his coat pocket for a while before pulling something from its depths. Although it was clenched in his gloved fist, Jessica could make out a faint blue glow emanating from within.

He placed the Stone in the Genetic Imprint Isolator and Jessica could now see that its blue light was far greater than before, and was nearly as bright as the light from the Furnace below.

“Why are you doing this Churchill? Honestly, what could a well respected member of the academic community of your era, gain from trying to summon forth a mythical monster from the dawn of time? All of that time alone with those relics must have driven you loco.”

Harbinger cast an eye over his shoulder and responded in a low growl that was far removed from the charming tones he’d used before. “Churchill was just a shell; a facade to aid in my master’s plan. I am his harbinger - that is my true calling.”

Edward cocked his head, “When exactly did you first hear this calling?”

“My master has spoken to me since childhood; he has always been by me. He instructed me on my path – my studies, my career – and when the time became right, he instructed me on my true purpose – to ensnare Edward Graves and his meek, little accomplice.”

“Come back over here and I’ll show you how meek I can be!”

Harbinger laughed. “So the bookseller has had a small taste of adventure and now she fancies herself a warrior.”

“No, I fancy myself a detective.” The double meaning of that sentence suddenly became apparent and she shot a look at Edward, “Not like that!”

Thankfully Edward seemed more focused on Harbinger than any of Jessica’s slips of tongue. In fact he was more than just focused. He had expression that she hadn’t seen on his face before. His jaw was clenched, his brow was furrowed and his eyes were narrowed towards Harbinger with a look that wasn’t anger. It was fear. Edward Graves, the man who had died one hundred times over, who had willingly subjected himself to torture, was scared.

He spoke in a strangely desperate tone, “Listen to me Churchill...”

“I am Harbinger!”

“OK, fine, whatever. You have to listen to me Harbinger, somebody’s using you. That person that’s been inside your head all of your life, he’s not some magical beast, he’s a man; just an ordinary man.”

“I know perfectly well who I serve, Graves!” He practically screamed, with a ferocity that left Jessica wondering how she had ever been attracted to this man, who now looked less like a man and more like a monster that wore human skin.

“My master has shown himself to me, he has told me of his sins!” He paused and a malicious grin sliced its way across his face. “And of yours.”

Edward recoiled, visibly hurt and looking as if he’d been struck physically rather than verbally.

“Then you know that he cannot be trusted,” said Edward, “and that he is far too dangerous to be allowed back into the universe.”

“The same can be said of you,” he countered.

Edward had nothing to say to that, which excited Harbinger a great deal. He shrieked with laughter and returned to working with the G.I.I.

“He’s gone nuts,” whispered Jessica.

“He’s gone through life under the influence of a madman, whispering in his ear and shaping his life for him. He’s always been mad; it’s just that he’s finally letting it show.”

“So who is this guy that you’re talking about, the one who you think has been manipulating Churchill or Harbinger or whatever we’re supposed to call him now? Is he a real threat?”

Edward looked at his lap, a heavy burden clearly resting on his shoulders. “It’s a long story. But yes, he is the most dangerous man in all of existence. He sought the power of a god and he found it. I sealed him away at the dawn of time for the good of the universe.”

Jessica had seen a similar look before, when Archie had told her about the young boy with Edward in the group picture, Xander. She began to connect dots and the faint trace of a suspicion began to seep into her thoughts.

She was about to voice her suspicions when suddenly there was excited gasp from Harbinger. The G.I.I. whirred to life with a low humming sound and Harbinger pointed at Crawlfield’s Black Glove agent, who was standing by a console.

“Now!” yelled Harbinger.

The agent traced his fingers along a touch screen in a complicated pattern and then things really started to get interesting. Sparks erupted from the G.I.I. and a loud hum of power filled the air. The soft, blue tendrils of light from the Furnace grew dark, harsh and more turbulent – twisting and writhing like a knotted ball of snakes. They rose up into the air, so that they were even with the balcony, conjuring a rush of wind which blew Edward’s hat right off his head and sent Jessica’s hair flying all over the place.

“What’s going on?” she yelled over the gale.

“The Isolator has located the point in the timeline where a corresponding genetic trace can be found. Now it’s separated that point from the rest of the timeline so that it can be accessed directly. If anybody goes through there, they’ll be taken directly to the Alpha Point – the dawn of time!”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes,” bellowed Edward, “it’s been done before but it’s incredibly dangerous, any form of artificial time travel is. The Furnace is meant to be a window, not a door.”

Suddenly Harbinger yanked Edward from his chair and hauled him over to the balcony, holding his face out over the edge.

“Look at it Graves,” he screamed, “isn’t it beautiful?”

He let go of Edward and swung his arms out wide, his coat and scarf whipping around violently, his hat long since blown away. Meanwhile, Hayden Crawlfield and his man were doing their best to stop themselves from being knocked over.

It was only now that Jessica noticed that Edward was using some kind of small, serrated blade to saw through his ropes.

“How much longer is this going to take?” called Hayden Crawlfield, his voice barely able to hold on to its irritated tone as his frail body was buffeted by the time winds.

“The promised hour is nearly upon us,” laughed Harbinger. “My master must only follow the signal from the Eternity Stone and he shall be free!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” said Edward. He pulled his wrists apart until the ropes fell away and were caught by the wind and thrown right past Jessica’s head. His coat flapped around him like a cape as he swiftly untied the knot around his ankles, just in time to dodge a punch from Harbinger.

The Black Glove agent drew his gun and made a move on Edward. But he had to use his arm to shield his face from the wind, hindering his peripheral vision and giving Jessica the chance to dive from her chair and plough right into his side, sending them both to the floor, with the gun sliding off to the side.

For a terrifying few seconds, Jessica could see nothing but red as her hair was wrapped around her face by the wind and she sincerely regretted not tying it up that morning. She didn’t have to worry about for too long though, because as she tried frantically to get her feet back under her, she felt her scalp scream with pain, as she was yanked up by her hair and left to rest on her tip-toes.

She gritted her teeth and did her best not to scream as she looked into the dark brown eyes of the Black Glove agent. He had olive skin and vaguely Italian features, probably in his mid-thirties.

“You’re lucky I don’t hit girls,” he said.

Her eyes began to water, but she still managed to look out of the corner of her at Edward, who was engaged in a fight with Harbinger. Well, Harbinger was the one doing the fighting, with wild, sweeping blows and crazed lunges. Edward, on the other hand, was keeping fluid, dodging, ducking and weaving with ease, almost like he was playing with him. Unfortunately for Jessica, he was too caught up with his own fight to notice what was happening to her.

The Black Glove agent threw her to the ground, temporarily relieving the pain in her head, only to reignite it again when her skull collided with the ground. The world around her shook and went blurry for a few moments, as she saw the Black Glove agent looking down at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was surprisingly sincere.

Her head cleared and she heard Crawlfield call out something, she couldn’t make out what exactly. The agent looked back over his shoulder and she saw a window of opportunity, which she wasn’t going to miss. She rolled backwards onto her shoulder blades, lifting her bound legs into the air and delivered a well placed kick to his groin. He shrieked and doubled over in pain while Jessica swung her legs around and swept him at the ankles, the force of the wind boosting her strength enough to send him to the floor with a grunt and a thud.

Jessica rolled over onto her knees, looking for something to cut her ropes with. There wasn’t much in the way of blades in the room, but then something caught her eye, a knife protruding from the Black Glove agent’s jacket pocket as he squirmed on the ground. She did her best to find an alternative, but it seemed that the knife was her best option. Hell, it was her only option.

Frantically, she shuffled across the cold, metal floor, nearly losing her balance more than once. She leaned over and tried to grab the hilt in her mouth, but the agent rolled over and swatted her aside with an arm that felt as broad and strong as a tree trunk.

Her body screamed in pain once more as she flipped backwards, crushing her knees under her own weight, before flopping sideways to the ground. She scrambled to get back upright, well the best that she could manage anyway. The agent had already risen on shaky legs and was standing over her again.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Jessica slammed her head straight into his stomach and then jerked upright as he doubled over, crunching her skull into his jaw. Her head spun for a moment but she fared far better than Captain McBonecrunch.

She shook her head clear and reached for the knife again, but her jaw was grabbed by a hand that was nearly as big as her head. Then, before she could register what was happening, a sledgehammer shaped like a fist, ploughed into her left cheek, sending her back to the floor with a smack.

Jessica’s eyes watered from pain, but she wasn’t in any danger of crying, fortunately. Surprisingly, the Black Glove agent had a horrified look on his face.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he said, clearly rattled. “I’d never hit a woman, I swear! I don’t know what came over me!”

Then Jessica had an idea.

“You seem like a nice guy, what’s your name?” she asked, ignoring the burning pain in her jaw and cheek.

“Vinnie,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright Vinnie, that’s OK, I know you didn’t mean to hit me, you’re just doing your job, right?”

“Well, yeah, no, we’re not talking; I’m putting you back in that chair!”

He leaned down and pulled her up to her feet. His giant hands were deceptively gentle this time.

“Vinnie,” she said as softly as possible while still being audible over the wind, “let me go, and help us. You’re a decent guy, I can tell, so surely you know that this isn’t right?”

Vinnie clenched his jaw but didn’t speak. His grip on her arms remained gentle but firm.

Jessica looked over her shoulder at the fight, which was still raging on. Edward sidestepped and tripped harbinger over, but he recovered and landed an elbow right in the small of Edward’s back, causing him to arch in pain. He countered by swinging his cane, which he had obviously recovered at some point, right into Harbinger’s stomach.

“Please,” said Jessica. She looked into his eyes imploringly, trying her best to reach out and appeal to the morals of a man who would never hit a woman.

He looked away. Then his grip loosened. Then he let go of her together and moved behind her. She could feel tugging at her wrists, she tried to look over her shoulder, but she could only make out his suit with her peripheral vision.

She couldn’t hear anything over the wind, but she soon felt the ropes around her wrists loosen and fall free. She rubbed her poor wrists, which were red with ropes burns and it wasn’t long before she felt her ankles released.

“Thank-you!” she said, going to hug Vinnie.

He held her at arm’s length and said, “Get to work, before I change my mind.”

Crawlfield was bellowing something, barely audible but clearly furious. Jessica ignored him and ran straight for the G.I.I., snatching the Eternity Stone from it. The wind died down to a gentle breeze and the thunderous noise fell to barely a whisper.

“No!” bellowed Harbinger, before Edward pinned him to the floor.

Vinnie began drawing patterns on the touchscreen again, he looked up at Jessica and was about to say something, but his voice was covered by the sudden sound of a gunshot ringing throughout the room.

His expression turned confused and then, as blood began to spill out of his mouth, his eyes glinted with understanding and then acceptance, all within a brief second or two. His whole body wobbled a little, as a blood stain spread out across his chest, ruining his crisp, white shirt. Without grace or ceremony, he fell forward, slumping over the console.

Jessica shrieked and tried to run to Vinnie, but Hayden Crawlfield shouted a warning, the smoking gun still firmly grasped in his liver spot covered hand.

Both Edward and Harbinger looked stunned, but not enough for Edward to loosen his grip.

“Put the Stone back, young lady,” spat Crawlfield. “Very. Very. Slowly, please.”

Jessica’s lower body received conflicting messages. Her legs wouldn’t stop wobbling, but her feet felt like lead and were fixed firmly to the floor.

Crawlfield fired a shot into the air, which ricocheted, creating sparks and causing Jessica to flinch. Crawlfield remained still.

She took a several deep breaths and then slowly, she placed the Eternity Stone back into the G.I.I. The machine whirred back to life immediately and the blue portal of Temporal Energy was whipped back up into a frenzy; the winds of time rushing back into the room.

“Now Mr. Graves,” bellowed Crawlfield, “if you could be so kind as to release my business partner, so I don’t have to put a bloody great big hole in your little girlfriend, there.”

Edward looked down at Harbinger, then at Jessica, then at Crawlfield and finally back to Harbinger. He scrunched up his face, but released him, standing up and held his hands up.

“Now drop the cane!”

Reluctantly, Edward complied, letting his cane fall to the floor with a muffled clatter. It started to roll away under the force of the wind.

Harbinger jerked his head, indicating for Jessica to stand next to Edward. With her legs still trembling, she complied and stood next Edward with her hands up.

Harbinger rose to his feet and brushed himself off. “Did you really think that you could stop me, little girl? The work I do is divine!”

“More insane than divine,” said Edward.

Then, something happened. The winds accelerated and if they’d been strong before, they were downright gale force now. Jessica lost her footing and actually got blown away! Not just buffeted, but literally blown away. She would have been thrown clear across the room if Edward hadn’t caught her by the wrist, anchoring them both by gabbing onto the balcony’s railing. It was almost comical, the sight of them barely tethered and dangling, almost horizontally, in the temporal cyclone.

Harbinger had also managed to grab hold of the railing, but Crawlfield hadn’t been so lucky. His small, frail body was flung clear across the room, a gunshot echoing out as he went. Perhaps it was an accidental misfire. Perhaps it was a frightened old man’s attempt at fighting something which he had absolutely no control over. Either way, he still ended up as a crumpled, unmoving heap on the far side of the room, a trickle of blood running from his head, his body unmoving.

The vortex of Timspace had also changed, it was more violent now, like a whirlpool flipped on its side, with lightning striking around the edges and in the centre. Speaking of the centre, a dark shadow began to form there, barely noticeable at first, but slowly becoming more distinct.

Harbinger gazed into the eye of the storm with a mixture of manic excitement and awe. He barely seemed to notice the way in which his body was being assaulted, his legs flapping around behind him, as if they were merely a part of his coat.

“He is here, my master has come! Praise be to Xander!”

The shadow was clearly in the shape of a person now, possibly a man.

“Edward! What does this mean?”

He turned his head, his teeth clenched and his hair blowing towards her.

“All hell is about to break loose!”