All Rights Reserved © 2018, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Synopsis: [This is the journey of Rick Heiden, who steps beyond his comfort zone, and his life is never the same. He travels to another world and learns that more to him exists than the introvert who revels in the quiet calmness of his apartment to read the latest novel by the fireplace.]
This novel contains 50 chapters.
CHAPTER TWO
The actual signing was as anticlimactic as one might expect--I signed a mere piece of paper. However, it granted me access to the answers I wanted. They had put me through too much to give up.
Mr. Haywood slid another file to Ms. Newton. "We are holding a person of interest. Evidence suggests he speaks Japanese. Certain incidences, beyond your purview, indicate that he has knowledge of national importance. However, he refuses to speak with us, so we have a problem. Agent Levitt--whose assessment I accept--believes you can solve it. Will you enlighten the others as to why you think this, Agent Levitt?"
Mr. Levitt expected this; he sounded as if he had rehearsed his reply. "If we needed nothing more than an interpreter, ours should have proved more than adequate, but we tried that."
"He failed," said Mr. Haywood.
"Correct," Mr. Levitt said, "the man wasn't willing to talk, and I suspect we carry the fault for that. Our
guest
has only spoken one Japanese word,
Dashite
, which in English means
let me out
, and nothing else. So, baring the American route of torturing him till he tells us what we want to know, which I believe we all view as repulsive and criminal, we need something more. In comes Mr. Heiden, with talents beyond that of an interpreter, from what I've witnessed, he is a strong intuitive empath."
I just looked at him, not sure where he was taking it, and it seemed strange for someone to talk about me while in the room, but he had said to follow his lead.
He continued. "An intuitive empath uses their native intuition to understand what someone says. They feel what others feel and draw others to them." He addressed me, "Mr. Heiden, have you ever just met someone, and they start telling you about their troubles after only a few minutes?"
I had to think about it. "Often, but doesn't that happen to everyone?" I asked, looking for confirmation from the others.
"No, Mr. Heiden, it doesn't," he said. "Also, I've watched you when you interpret. You latch onto what someone means even when they speak in vague terms. I've even watched you know what people feel, and sometimes think, just by looking at them."
I almost burst out laughing. "Please, don't hype me as a mind reader!" I said, not wanting the others to think he meant anything of the sort.
"Oh, I wouldn't accuse him of mind reading," he told the others. "The impressions people give him he intuits into thoughts." He bent down to look into my eyes. "You amaze me."
Levitt had beautiful amber eyes. His closeness caused my breathing to become a little erratic, and I could feel my heart beating, but then I glanced at the faces of the others at the table. "You better stop. You're making them wonder if they've made a mistake." At that, I noticed several raised eyebrows.
Levitt stood erect once again. "If you want something more concrete," Levitt said to them, "Mr. Heiden works as a professional interpreter, he has fluency in the Japanese language and has studied the intricacies of Japanese customs. However, his skill as an intuitive empath will make a difference."
Mr. Haywood sat unconvinced with a contemptuous gaze. "Complete nonsense."
"That will do, Mr. Haywood," said Ms. Newton.
"What will this entail?" asked Mr. Park from the Government Office for Science.
"We let him see what we found on the man," said Levitt, "we introduce him to him, and let him take over from there. I think before long our guest will lower his guard enough to talk to us."
After some deliberation, they decided it couldn't hurt to try. I found it hard to feel gratified with such a dismal level of confidence.
Levitt and I took the lift to what I mistook as the basement. Beneath the building, an excessive amount of LED lighting illuminated a veritable labyrinth of spacious, clean, groin-vaulted rooms connecting long and identical, barrel-vaulted corridors. If I hadn't seen the console tables on every wall with the potted plants, I would have expected someone to sacrifice me to the Minotaur. Carpet and tiny white acoustic tiles covered every surface. The air felt dry with an odor typical of hyper-purification; it smelled of activated carbon and paper with a bit of ozone.
As I followed Levitt, I mused over the words the man spoke, "
Let me out
. You wouldn't have him manacled to a wall in some old dungeon down here, would you?"
Levitt and I stopped at one of the doors that looked as though he had chosen one at random; they all looked the same. "He intimidated them," he said, "and they felt threatened, so they locked him into an observation room. We have his things in here."
Two people worked in the room, lined with large pieces of scientific equipment, various devices of sophisticated appearance, and several laptops scattered on tables. Levitt asked them to leave us. They nodded and told us Katheryn Elliot had informed them that we were coming. Levitt gestured to a table with a variety of objects upon it. It held a small stack of clothing, a pair of boots, a three-foot-long, double-edged sword with its scabbard, and a harness. After the two left and closed the door, he told me as much as he could.
"They don't monitor this room, so we can talk here. I don't know how much time we have, and I need you to listen. Okay?"
I nodded.
"I am sorry," he said, "I had nowhere else to turn. I need your help. A man named Cadmar, like Amaré--that's the name of the man in the observation room--came to London to take me home. He died, and the government has him in a facility somewhere. If I know the government, they will dissect Cadmar's body. I must find him so that Amaré and I can take him home. His body cannot remain here. I need to retrieve him, but I can't do that without you."
I realized he was putting me on the spot, and no one likes that, but he looked so adorable. I could feel his desperation. "What did you need me to do?"
"Amaré knows who I am, but he only speaks Japanese, and I don't. I need you to get him to talk to the people here. It doesn't matter the topic so long as he keeps them busy. Tell him that I'll help him when I can."
"Okay," I said, "but what's with all the intuitive empath stuff upstairs?"
"Well, you are, but I had to use some reason to get you into the facility. As I said, I don't speak Japanese."
"I get that, but why did you pick me?" I asked. "If you want my help, I need to know."
"I wanted to become part of the Sharing," he said. "So, I became a student of the Trust, volunteering to come here to find people who would do well with us. I have an acquaintance in immigration who brought several asylees to my attention when each of you requested a work visa. Everyone knows that the Americans put you all into a ridiculous situation, so I made sure someone nudged you in the right direction so you would be okay. Not every asylee took the help I gave them, but I recognized you at the party at Kensington Palace that night. I marveled at seeing how well you'd done. Since then, I had the thought that I would invite you to come with me when I leave."
I hadn't understood some of that. "I appreciate the help you gave me, but you side-stepped my question. Why me? I need to hear you say it."
"When I met you at the party...I liked you in an instant, and I thought we might do well together."
I almost hugged him, but we hadn't the time, so I engaged my mind to the task at hand. "Okay, let's...let's set all of that aside for the moment. We'll discuss that later. How do you know that about Cadmar?"
He turned to the table behind us and removed a cloth that covered what lay upon it; it had a sword and a sizable gold ring with a one-carat diamond embedded into it. He raised the beautiful, weighty sword to examine it. It looked like Amaré's gold one with the round guard, grip, and pommel made of silvery metal. The front of the pommel on both swords had a kind of cup carved upon it. When Levitt flipped the sword over, I saw the name Cadmar embossed in high relief with the inscription:
Scientia nos Defendit
(Knowledge Defends Us)--a motto, I supposed. The back of Amaré's sword held no name, but it did have the same inscription. They had a modern appearance for such ancient weapons.