There's a strict jurisdiction rule regarding cases handled by agents. The headquarters we work at requires us to handle cases within the northeastern area of America. If there's a case happening on the other side of the country, it's up to that area's agents to take care of it. So why is it that I'm being told to fly to California?
"But boss, that's not anywhere near our area. Why can't the other agents handle it? It's literally their mess, so they should clean it."
Carlotta packs her papers into a neat pile. "Troy, you complain a lot. I don't know a single agent that complains as much as you do. You're one of the top agents, why do you complain so much?"
"I–"
"Clyde, do you have any objections to a case outside of your jurisdiction?"
Clyde gives me an awkward glance, embarrassed on my behalf. "No ma'am, of course not. However, Troy is right. We have questions as to why the western district is asking for fly-in agents. What's wrong with theirs?"
"I'm afraid your reputations proceed you. They heard how you handled the Kay-Oh case with amazing efficiency. They've taken to calling your unit The Afterburners."
"Nice," I say.
"Ahem. You've might have guessed, but there's a similar problem over in the west that could use your expertise."
My mind floats back to how difficult and traumatic it was to deal with Kay-Oh. Clyde may look as right as factory new, but he had his whole side ripped out from him including the organs that were in the way. We're just lucky that Dr. Nivans is so good with a scalpel, and multi-million dollar technology. "I enjoy the flattery, but that particular cleanup wasn't exactly easy by any standards."
"There's also one more problem."
"What's that?"
"Agents cannot work on another jurisdiction's case unsupervised."
"So we're out of the game?" I ask, more relieved than disappointed.
"No."
"Great, so who are you sending us with? Another unit? Barry the pilot? Nivans? It would be good to have him around, we'll need a medic on the spot if things go south like last time."
She stands up and straightens her skirt. "I'm going with you."
Clyde and I share glances and stifle a laugh. He's the one to say something though. "Ma'am, with all due respect, are you sure you're trained and prepared for fieldwork? I wouldn't argue if this was a normal case, but another relic hunt? What did you call them, Troy? An Animatrix victim? Those guys are not your usual suspects."
She almost looks offended. "I beg your pardon? Clyde, I was the one driving during the chase for Archer! And Troy, I was the one who froze the chameleons in Clyde's apartment."
"I thought that was Amy."
"Wrong. Yours truly. I'd say that I'm very capable of handling situations in the field. I may not have the same defensive training given to you two, but who says I'll be needing it? Besides, I'm just there for official records, I promise to stay out of the way."
I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "I don't like this. What if you get hurt?"
"Stop treating me like a helpless child. I'm older than you, and I've always been the one to stand up for us when we were kids."
"Yeah, but–"
"My credentials are going to clear your presence. There is no other rank above mine that can do something like this without running a whole transfer procedure."
"That's another thing too," Clyde adds, "what about running operations here? You're the highest authority in the whole quadrant, who will the units turn to when they've got questions or problems?"
"I've put together a council consisting of members from different departments. They'll be well-rounded and will work together to solve any problem Ispio agents might have while we're away. Is there anything else you'd like to say to convince me I shouldn't go?"
When I look at Clyde, he looks tapped out too. We shrug and shake our heads.
South Dos Palos, California: Ispio Southwestern SafeHouse
"All pushed in, Ms. Adams," a desk worker tells us. "So long as your presence remains in the quadrant, your agents will have the same access to resources as if they were home."
"Thank you, George, I'll make sure to let Dr. Birch know how quickly things were processed."
"Is there anything else I can do to help?"
"I'd like to speak with the unit that reported the stalemate. Have they returned?"
"Give me one second." He types a few things on his clacky keyboard. "They have. I'll buzz them for you. Please use our lobby, I'll let them know where to meet you. Are you hungry, thirsty?"
"No thank you."
"Got any protein bars?" Clyde asks.
"I'd like a leafy green smoothie," I say.
"I'm certain we can get those for you as fast as possible," George assures.
The look Carlotta gives both of us almost makes me laugh. "What? He offered."
We don't have to wait long. When we take our seats, only a few minutes pass before two strangers join us. I take my smoothie off of the table out of respect.
"Ms. Adams. Agent Hearth, Agent Barker," one of them says. She seems tense and very serious. "I've never seen something like this before, but I heard the Afterburner unit deals with this kind of thing on a constant basis."
That name stuck easily. "Constant basis might be an exaggeration," I say.
"They have experience in dealing with culprits that are…of a different nature. I have no doubts in my mind that they will be a substantial help for this case." Carlotta plops the file she's been carrying with her on the table and flips open the cover page. "Clockwork is her name?"
The other agent leans in, heavy bags hanging under his eyes. "It is. It suits her power too. She's got some kind of control of time."
"And what was your experience with her during combat?"
He looks at his partner, both breathe in like they're reliving the trauma. "If you blink, it's over. She moves at the speed of lightning, and we move at the pace of a snail. She'll slow you down, and you'll be punched a hundred times before you can flinch on the first."
"Sounds like a violent individual. I assume you're implying she has martial arts training?"
"She doesn't fight like a citizen. But she relies on her time powers heavily. Without it, I'm sure I could've taken her in a fair fight."
"Just how troublesome are her time powers? Did she do anything drastic with them?" I ask.
He seems more distressed. "Yeah. She can get pretty creative." He stops and looks down at his hands. His partner rolls her neck to make audible pops in her bones.
She continues for him. "Even when she slows time, you can feel all of it as if your brain is going at a normal rate. She stabbed a knife in him while time was slow, and he hasn't exactly gotten over the feeling of steel piercing his stomach so slow that he can feel all the pain that came with it."
Carlotta raises her hand. "Does her power only affect the area around her? Does she direct it to single items or people?"
"I couldn't say with confidence. We really didn't get too much information from our fight. The tech lab has a medical wing in this safe house. They took some blood samples during our treatment. They might be looking for anomalies in our cells after warping in time so often."
"Can something like that really show up in lab results?"
"I suppose. They're doing what they can to understand the power a little better."
Carlotta looks at me and Clyde. "I'm going to talk to the tech department and ask if there's anything new they can add. You two should track Clockwork down and try to gain more info on her ability."
She leaves us and takes the file too. Clyde and I stay with the other unit. "So, I'm guessing you want an autograph from the legendary Afterburners," I say.
"Is it that obvious?" they ask.
Clyde shows a dorky grin. "We were just trying to be modest in front of our boss."
"Can you tell us about The Character? I heard the Afterburners were top agents in the whole company, but the legendary Troy Hearth managed to take him down all by himself. Just how do you do it?"
I reported the whole incident when the ordeal was over, but I left out the part where an older me traveled back in time to lend a hand. How am I supposed to include that in the report? They might've thrown out the whole thing if I added it. Would they? They seem to take weird pretty well.
"Maybe later. Do you have any way we can track this clown down?"
The woman hands me a small chip, small enough to fit into my all-purpose interface. "We shot her with a tracking chip. It's the kind that buries deep into your skin, you have to cut it out if you want it out. She knows all about it, so I'm not sure if you'll find her or the chip thrown in the sewers."
If we're lucky, she's squeamish with pain and blood and will leave the tracker in just a little longer. I plug the chip into my device and see a small blip on the screen telling me where the chip is pinging its location.
"We should get going," I tell Clyde, "I'll take the tracking job."
"Then I'll keep our six covered."
South Dos Palos, California: Behind A Cluster of Stores
"Clyde," I say while putting away the tracking app, "look. The police officer."
There's an officer heading for the exit to the main street. He's odd-looking, like using a full walking motion but only going a tenth of the natural speed. He's in slow motion just like the other unit said. How long has he been stuck like this? A few minutes, a couple of hours? The tracker says this is where the chip is. Maybe she cut it out? I don't see her anywhere.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Clyde asks.
"I don't think so. I have no idea how any of this stuff works."
"Really? I thought you'd be a professional considering you unveiled The Key all by your lonesome."
"Are you still sore about that? Come on, Ispio is the one that sent you on the solo mission for your merit. So what if I cracked open a can without you? I thought you'd be more impressed and less jealous."
"I'm just saying you could've reported The Key and waited for your PARTNER to return to headquarters so that we could take on the case together like we always do. But no, you decided it would be cool to hog all the glory."
"Yeah, you're not sore at all."
"Whatever, just give me the tracker. I want to make sure you're reading it correctly."
I roll my eyes and reach for my front pocket. As I'm reaching for it, there's something greatly irritating me, some random feeling of impatience. Wait a minute… What!? My hand! It's so slow. What's going on? It's taking forever to lift up and aim for my pocket! I turn my head to look at Clyde, but even that has been slowed down. I try to scream, but my mouth and tongue take forever to form words. My vocal cords also take time to warm up to make even just a grunt.
"What's taking so long? Are you playing with me? Come on, Troy, hand it over. I don't want to end up like that officer over there. Oh wait, he left. What just happened?"
You stupid dog! Just look at me! Look at my face, look at my body. Can't you see the panic in me? "C-l-y-d-e…"
"Huh? Are you okay?"
No!
His eyes narrow and his ears perk up. "Something's off! You're slow, and not on purpose." His gun quickly draws from his holster as he begins to aim around us and on the roofs of the store buildings that make up this condensed alleyway. "Neat trick, but seems pretty simple. Slowing time isn't anything new, we have ways of battling something like that."
Suddenly the slowness wears off and I'm allowed to move at my original speed. I forget the device and unholster my gun, keeping the barrel low as I don't have a target yet. "I don't know how your power works, but I assume you have to see me to use it! Come on out, I can already smell the residue on you!"
A slim figure falls down from climbing a gutter on the side of a building, landing in an old puddle and soaking their clothes. She groans and holds her hip, the hood of her jacket falling off to reveal a pair of long ears. A Primendian Rabbit with white fur and big blue eyes. She looks worried, scared to see the pair of us.
Clyde's gun goes down. "Get out of here, kid, this isn't a place to practice your parkour right now."
My nose tingles at the sight of her and my gun aims. "Clyde, she's not some innocent victim trying to get away. She is Clockwork!"
"Look at her, she's scared stiff."
The rabbit crawls backward and stretches her eyes as big as they can go. "Run! There's some crazy guy here! He made that police officer move all slowly! I don't know how that can be possible! He'll do it to you too if you stay here!"
I don't waver, but Clyde motions for my gun to move down. I don't. "Time powers and a talented actress? When will the impressive repertoire end?"
"Troy, are you sure? It's pretty difficult to fake that much fear. We can't have you pointing a firearm at a civilian."
"I know the ultimate way to see if she's bluffing."
"Troy, no!"
My gun goes off, aiming right for the space between her eyes. No normal person will ever be able to dodge a bullet while standing up, let alone while they're sitting down and crawling backward. The bullet will either be deflected by the Animatrix's need for entertainment, or slow down from her time powers.
The bullet slows down. She stands up and walks out of the way.
"I knew it!"
"Can't hide the smell, I guess," she says. "I shouldn't have even tried. I can smell you too. I smelled you as soon as you walked into this small back area. It's like a dense fog."
"It's a pretty good tracker, but only when they're close. Otherwise, that thing in your skin led us right to you."
She lifts up her shirt and exposes a small lump on her side. "Ispio agents carry some crazy technology. As soon as that guy shot me with it, it burrowed underneath my skin and graphed more skin over it. It's a wound that healed in less than two seconds. If I saw it coming, they never would've popped it off. How do I get it out?"
"I think you know how."
"Want to borrow my knife?" Clyde asks, holding a big blade in his palm.
She puts her shirt down. "I hate pain. Look, just leave me alone. I was sent here for some quiet research, I didn't know Ispio would be tracking me. I didn't do anything wrong, I haven't hurt anybody that didn't attack me first."
"That's not how this works," Clyde says, "someone with a power like yours is dangerous whether they think they are or not. An accident can happen, and you need to come with us. We can talk about your effects from the Animatrix, maybe even fix you."
"Animatrix? Are you talking about the relic?"
Clyde looks at me. "Isn't that what it's called?"
I shrug. "I mean, that's the name I call it. It apparently never caught on."
He groans. "Whatever. Just come with us, I promise you'll not get hurt."
I can see it in her eyes, she's thinking about it. How much did The Key tell her about Ispio? She already tangled with some agents, I hope they gave her a long struggle.
Her pinkie twitches and the bullet I shot resumes its normal pace and digs into a trashbag left out in the rain. "Some of us are loyal members of The Key, some of us are pulled off from the street. The numbers keep climbing, eventually, there has to be someone with the same bond to the relic the way The Character did. It might have rejected me, but at least I didn't walk away empty-handed."
"This is really ramping up to a 'no', isn't it?" I ask.
"No, I will not be coming with you."