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He woke up on
a bed. He blinked. The side of his skull was shattered, leaking his thoughts out into the pillow beneath him. Was that why his head was so light? What was h
happening? Where was he? He slowly lifted his arm to feel around for the bone fragments he was sure were there. There weren’t any. In fact, his skull felt remarkably intact when he ran his fingers back through his hair. Then why was it
half empty? There was still something spilling out of his head, like b
lood on snow. His hand bumped against something. Fumbling to properly pick it up, it slipped from his fingers and
hit the
floor silently. He should fix that.
He stared at the ceiling. Had that been a moment or a minute? Maybe longer. An hour. His arm dangled off the edge of the bed, fingertips brushing the floor. He blinked. Was he breathing? Did he
remember how to breathe? Was that why his head was so light? The very [ ] walls / Suddenly seemed to reel. Breathe. Breathe.
His movements only went halfway, gravity pulling them to rest. With this he managed to look to his right where a window hung. He could see the sky And the Pleiades.
It’s the middle of the night.
He could see the gas light on the wall. The flame bobbed inside its gglass cage. Get up. He felt the bottom of his feet touch the floor. Tipping forward, the momentum carried him forward until he was swaying in the middle of the room.
Phantom hands laid on his back, over his shoulder blades like
annnnnnnnngel wings. Half empty. His hands skimmed through the air. Where was the other half?
L
London?
He needed to go to London.
His shoulder collided with the wall. He pressed his forehead to the cool surface, staring out the window at the moon to anchor himself to the earth. If he didn’t settle his weight against the wall he would surely
collapse.
He was out in the hallway, upper arm drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrragging against the wall as he put one foot in front of the other. It was a ship. That’s why it was cold, quiet, clean. He burst onto the deck and there He was, he—
Oh. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The air was cool and sweet, soothing the fire in his lungs. On the exhale, he felt all the dust and ash that had settled inside them disperse on the breeze. They[’d] shut [him] in the Closet.
Then there was a crowd of people carrying him along in their current. For a moment he panicked, then re
re
remembered that this was what he wanted. He’d been on the deck, waiting, for a few hours. He needed to get off this ship. He was going to get to London.
To h
h?
h.
Everything had gone so fast the past couple hours. He’d docked at Dover, left the ship, then there was shouting and policemen, and people grabbing him by the arm. Then a man in green, and he’d pointed something out to him, just to be polite, and just like that he was in a new building. He kept his head down, hands gripping his knees as he waited for someone to talk to him. They said that someone would.
Whatever room he was in was loud. There was a constant tick, tick, ticking, and groaning metal. Too fearful of what might happen if he didn’t stay perfectly still, the only object he could be truly sure of its existence was the desk in front of him.
The grand doors behind him clicked open and shut, the sound of footsteps on carpet drawing nearer. In his periphery, he could see the man in green cross to the other side of the desk and sit down. He kept his eyes fixed to the edge of the wood.
“What’s your name?” His voice was a deep timbre, even and steady like the ticking around him.
“I don’t know,” He whispered.
“Speak up.”
“I don’t know,” He said louder, cracking at the tail end of the last syllable. He couldn’t answer many questions. How much trouble was he in?
“The case you commented on at Scotland Yard. The police have been stuck on this lead for a month. How did you manage to make that break?”
“It was just…” He raised his hands to make a gesture, then thought better of it and placed them back on his knees. “I just noticed the connection between the information you had displayed. And you were talking about it, so...”
The man in green sighed. “I’ll have to talk to the force about bringing civilians around case information in the future. Look at me.”
His head snapped up to make eye contact, and he regretted it quite thoroughly. He was now pinned under the man in green’s intense gaze. A rare butterfly on the wall.
“Do you know where you are?” He asked.
“London.”
The man in green had the look of someone whose patience was running ever-thin. “You’re at the Supreme Court of the British Empire. You don’t have the necessary documents to stay in this country, nor ones that might tell where you could legally be removed to. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I— yes.”
“You, good sir, are practically a ghost.”
corridors surpassing— He shook his head. “I’m sorry about that.”
The man in green studied him. Mostly around the edges, as if to judge how well he might fit into something. “What you did at the Yard. Is that something you can do again?”
“I think so.”
“A definite answer, if you please.”
He condensed a hundred calculations into one second. What would happen if he said no? Would he be forced to leave? Maybe something different. Maybe something worse. He couldn’t leave now he was here for s s s s some th ing.
“Yes,” He said as evenly as he could.
The man in green nodded. “I have a deal to offer you. In exchange for obtaining the requisite documents to let you stay, you will work in the prosecutors’ office.”
Prosecutor? As in legal work? He didn’t think he knew too much about that. “I’m… a bit concerned about my qualifications.”
“Oh, I expect that you’ll be put under stringent training. Though, I have a feeling you’ll pick up on it quite quickly. Or do you wish to refuse the proposal?”
There was dust and ashes in his lungs, he was dr
couldn’t breathe. He answered in a panic. “I can do it!”
“What an astute decision.” He stood up from the desk. “You’ll stay here until I can make arrangements with the prosecutors’ office. It will give us ample time to fill you in on some important details.”
“A-Alright.”
“I have a feeling,” He smiled, an expression with no kindness but a wild kind of joy. “That you’re going to be a valuable asset to the judiciary.”
He
He was? His head, chest, legs felt light again. It was dizzying, the speed at which the room spun. The man in green placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I look forward to our partnership.”