Lost in time

Chapter 6

He puts his suitcase down on the desk in his office and pulls at his tie to loosen the knot before going to his bedroom to change. He might have a lot of money, but he has grown accustomed to taking great care of his suits with so few resources available these days. He can order as many as he wants, but it all depends on the availability of fabric.

That is the thing that drives him to get this project going. He grabs a glass from the table in the living room, pours himself a drink, and walks to the kitchen to grab his dinner. His housekeeper has already prepared everything, he just has to heat it.

After dinner, he walks back into his office and the softness of his carpet under his bare feet is amazing compared to the shoes he has to wear all day. Each time he thinks of how soft the carpet feels, he remembers what a hard time his mother had to try and get him to wear shoes when he was younger.

He preferred his sweatpants, a hoodie… And bare feet… Crap!

What if she just couldn’t afford a suit? If what the girl Ben described was hard up for the job, and the clothes she was wearing were all she owned!! Why didn’t he think of this earlier?

He tries calling her one more time from his home line, and a soft, playful young voice answers the phone.

“Hi…” He hesitates, the voice on the other side of the line sounds similar but younger.

Surely such a young voice can’t belong to that amount of expertise.

“Hi, sorry, who is this?” A slightly older voice answers the phone, and he hears some giggling in the background.

“This is Maximillian...”

Before he can say another word, the line dies on him. Damn landlines are no longer reliable! People are forever stealing them and selling them off for scrap. He takes out his cell phone and dials her number. The phone only rings, and just as he is about to press the red button, he hears a voice and holds the phone to his ear, instantly regretting it.

“… And as I said before, I’m not interested in working for a stuck-up, overly indulged, rich prick like you!”

“I’m sorry.” He says, only hearing the last part of her rant.

Silence falls, and he looks at his phone to see if she killed it again. He swears if she…

“Fine, I accept your apology, but I don’t intend on working for you. Thank you.”

***

Magenta is about to put the phone down in his ear for the umpteenth time when she hears him talk.

“I will offer you double what I offered originally.”

“What?! Are you completely insane! Nobody spends that much money on someone who catalogs old things. What do you want? I’m not a girl for hire if that’s what you want. Oh, that’s what you wanted. That’s why your doorman chased me away. I didn’t look like your usual girls? Well, I’m sorry, Max. I’m not interested. Stop calling.”

She presses the red button on her phone and blocks his number.

“Pervert!”

“Who? He sounded nice.” Mischief bubbles and giggles at her older sister.

“Well, he isn’t. Leave it there and go to bed! It’s late.”

She watches her baby sister huff as she walks off to her bedroom. Everyone else is in bed already, but Mischief has ants in her pants most days and can’t sit still, never mind sleep.

Magenta switches off the light and makes herself comfortable on the couch.

***

She actually did it again! Opening his email, he types a letter to the employment department to find him someone else. No use in trying to convince a rude, judgemental, and clearly inappropriately dressed girl for the job when she has made it so clear that she doesn’t want it.

Her surname gave him hope, but miss Hart can’t possibly be related to the late Dr. Hart.

He spends the rest of the evening looking at reports from all his different departments, but he hardly notices what he is signing. Only scanning over the documents to get the gist of what they are about until he sees Bernard’s letter. Opening it immediately, he sits back in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk.

“Hi, Max,

If you get this letter, I’m not dead yet. Hahahaha. Unfortunately, things here are very primitive and all other forms of communication seem to be out of the question. I’m writing to let you know that the latest artifact is on its way, but that I’ve heard about a medallion of Chinese origin. It’s said to be from the seventeenth century, and it is made of gold-wrapped silk.

Some believe it to carry the spirits of warriors. I’m not sure if that counts as energy, but I’m on my way to find out.

As usual, all my love to your sister, and can you send me money so I can find the artifact.

Thanks, Buddy.

Bernard.”

Great! Another piece for his uncatalogued collection. He is starting to regret having sent his friend on this quest for a power source. He is chasing treasure and not what he was told to find. Most of the items in the warehouse probably don’t even have any value!

Max slams the letter on his desk, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. He takes a deep breath and thinks about why he originally asked Bernard to do this, making him sit upright and log into his banking site.

He transfers money over to his friend's account in the hopes that Bernard will be able to get it. Knowing Bernard, he is probably already halfway on his way to finding the medallion already.

Max checks the date on the letter, and it’s dated two weeks earlier. He hopes his friend is still alive! He hasn’t heard anything from him in the past two weeks, but then he sometimes goes months without hearing from Bernard. So, he can’t actually say that Bernard is wasting money.

He slams the screen of his laptop shut and takes his drink to his bedroom. There is no use in trying to work tonight because his mind keeps floating to his friend who is collecting every possible artifact he can find and the woman that so blankly refuses to accept the job he offered her… At double the salary.

He falls on his bed and switches on his television, watching the news.

***

The old man watches the seconds tick by, waiting for the bell of his shop door to ring. The three young girls are on time every day, and their “loot” is sometimes really good, but their conversation is better. Over the past few weeks, they have opened up to him a little and told him about their mom and their sister, but they never talk about their father being in the picture.

He hears the bell ring and steps out from behind the wall.

“Hello, girls.”

They greet him with excitement sparkling in their eyes, and he knows they found something worth it today. Their bubbling personalities are a breath of fresh air in these times. Most people are fighting to just survive, but they find joy in the smallest of things.

Once they’ve “sold” their loot, Mischief declares that they finally have enough to buy the broach, and he realizes that this will mean they aren’t going to come around to visit him anymore!

“That’s great news.” He sighs, turning towards the cupboard where he has saved most of their treasures.

“Don’t worry, old man.” Mayhem giggles. “We still need money. We will still come and visit you every day.”

“Yeah, scavenging is a lot more fun than working in an office!” Mystery pulls her face as if she just smelled something really bad, and he bursts out laughing.

“I take it you girls are planning on becoming professional scavengers?”

They nod in unison, and he realizes he has to then teach them a lot more about scavenging for proper things before they find themselves in trouble. At least this way he can help keep them safe and teach them the value of different things… And, of course, keep seeing them every day.

They don’t know, but he has spoken to an attorney and is thinking about leaving the shop for them if anything were to happen to him one day. Not that he is planning on going anywhere, but you never know who might be walking into the shop next. He doesn’t have any other family, and the girls have been so wonderful since they came into his life that he would like to leave them something if he isn’t there anymore.

***

Max signs for the crate that is being taken into his warehouse. Soon he might need a second warehouse, or maybe he should look for a bigger place to store all these things. It’s a shame about miss Hart, and the agency hasn’t found anyone else yet. He ponders calling her again, then decides against it.

He has a meeting with generals today and leaves the delivery to his warehouse guard.

“Just let them put it wherever you think is right. I will speak to you soon.”

He can see Clay wants to say something, but he cuts him short, really needing to get out of there.

“Just send me the paperwork. I will look at it tonight. Thanks, Clay.”

***

His tires squeal as he pulls into his parking spot in the basement of the building. He has one of the few cars left that run on normal fuel, but he pays the fine every month. He plans on enjoying the car for as long as he can before going back in time and changing it all.

When the timeline is changed, cars like this will be illegal, and he won’t have one any longer. At least, that’s what he hopes will be put into place in the law. The team that is preparing to be sent back in time is working on the research of where the past went wrong in their decisions and what brought them for today.

One of the biggest problems being the way the world has been using and abusing its natural resources.

Stepping onto the floor when the lift arrives, he walks straight to the boardroom.

“They aren’t there.” He hears Sophia calling him from the lab door.

“Where are they? I’m only two minutes late!”

“Down here, dude. They wanted to see the machine for themselves.”

“What?! Get down there!” He rushes over and almost runs down the stairs.

He hasn’t patented the machine yet and doesn’t want anyone this close to what they have built, so they can build one of their own!

“Relax, it’s only the generals and all their phones and briefcases and whatever can be used to record has been scanned for and removed.” She tries to calm his long strides before they reach their guests.

“Gentlemen, I apologize for my tardiness.” He holds out his hand to greet each of them.

From their expressions, they all look pretty excited, which makes his heart jump a little, and he starts to feel excited.

“So, what do you think?”

The director of national intelligence steps up and speaks on behalf of all of them, giving Max and Sophia what they wanted to hear.

“There are, however, conditions involved. Most importantly, we need our scientists to work on the project as well, and we want to move your project to a more secure facility.”

***

The girls rush into the apartment and Magenta rubs her forehead. She has figured out how much power they need to start the machine, she was just waiting for them to get back. If it works and she disappears, she doesn’t want her mom to think she did the same thing as her dad.

Whatever they were excited about is completely forgotten the moment she tells them about her plan, and they gather around the machine.

“Are you sure about this? I mean, we don’t even know where to start looking for him.” Mayhem studies her sister.

“If I don’t do this now, we are never going to do this.”

“Okay.”

They stand back and Mischief presses the green go button they found on an old gaming machine.