Chereads / Misplaced In Time / Chapter 13 - MiT:Line IV, part I

Chapter 13 - MiT:Line IV, part I

LINE IV: TRANCE ENTER

September 27th, 2036

Tonight, something amazing happened. I just witnessed myself use a crystal to power and entire building and then it just…disappeared. At least I have this journal. Everything I need is in this book. This is gonna change the world and somehow, someway, it's going to be all because of me! I'll have more money than the greatest leader this country has ever had. President Trump.

"Damn, I don't want to write anything personal in this journal because this one is going to be read by other people. I'll just rip this page out and write in the one the doctor prescribed me. I'll tuck you away safe with my porno mags until I figure out what I'm going to do with you."

Dear self,

I love me, blah, blah, blah. Now I will explain to myself, in writing that I am never gonna read again, how my day went. I'm getting tired of this 'integrating a wealth of introspection' into my down time, crap. According to the P.H.D with the nerdy-ass bowtie who likes listening to men cry for him. Fuckin' pervert! By the way, Mister P.H.D., I know you said that everything I write is personal and you're not gonna read it, but guess what? I still would have written that in this wussy ass book even if you were going to read it. Take THAT! And he wonders why everyone calls him Dickface McSlapnuts. Whoops, I'm getting off track…

Dear self,

I love me, blah, blah, blah and for being as happy as I am knowing I'm gonna be able to buy whoever and whatever I want pretty soon, my mood did not start the best. I just wanted to go home, take a hot shower to wash away the filth of sitting in that hot and musty front lobby dealing with every damn lowlife who came in to visit their lowlife friends or family members in the jail, and enjoy a beer without thinking about work or the so-called light punishment that I was dealt for breaking a few fingers of some piece of garbage drug informant who wasn't even black. Gimme a break. So, what if tensions are at a boiling point over alleged police brutality. It was an accident that his hand just so happened to be in the way of my trunk door as I was closing it. Accidents happen, not all of us police have malicious intent, and I am most definitely learning from this incident. I have learned that it's bullshit I was put on front desk duty for three months when I should be out with the task force busting the real bad guys. And most importantly, I will never accidentally assault people when there are witnesses around.

I can't believe I got in more trouble for slamming my junky informants' fingers in a door on accident than I did when I ran that red light on purpose and hit that black guy chasing after his basketball across the street. And he was in the hospital for a month. All I had to do for that was buy that BLM shirt to wear at the press conference when I had to give that lame ass prepared statement and apology. An apology for protecting the community. We have lights and sirens on our cars for a reason, idiots. Anyways, everyone knows I'm not racist. My sister's ex-boyfriend was a black bro, and I was always nice to him when I saw him. I'd say what's up brotha. He was one of the good ones.

This is starting to piss me off. I have better things to do than "get-in-touch" with myself and really don't understand how writing in this stupid journal is supposed to help me. The shrink said "It's meant to help you get in touch with the real you "Yeah well, the real me is pissed off and since he isn't going to read it, I think this will be the last time I write in it. Besides, I found a brand-new journal with pages made of M-O-N-E-Y.

If getting my detective badge back means I have to look inward and start being honest with myself. (SIDE-NOTE- I'm always honest with myself.) That's what will happen. Plus, I promised the captain I would play nice.

Ah, yes. Now it's the time when I get to remind myself of everything I did today, but in a more irritating way because I am writing it down.

All I wanted to do was go home and I even took the shortcut through the old, abandoned warehouse district outside of town. That was my first mistake. I had just gotten off my shift working my punishment duty at the front desk. It was a particularly irritating day, even more so than usual, because the air conditioner in the lobby for some reason decided to quit working and building maintenance didn't have the part in stock to repair it, so I had to sit sweating my ass off and smelling every nasty scumbag's body odor who would come in for a visit. Anyhow, as I was driving through that derelict part of town taking a shortcut to get home because I heard over the radio there was a 6-car pileup on the expressway to get out of town. So, unless I wanted to sit in gridlock for hours, my decision was pretty easy to make.

As I made it to the outskirts of The old abandoned industrial district, which isn't too far from not too far home, It would figure that I just had to see the two men exchanging drugs, or at least that's what I thought was going on, until one of the guys appeared to shoot the other guy in the head with what must have been some type of homemade pop-gun because of the bright flash that shot out of the guys hand. At least I thought it was a gun powder flash. Anyhow, seeing something like that, my professional integrity would not allow me to pretend that I didn't see anything, and I doubt the homeless murderer would have been able to afford my fee for doing so. So, despite how much I wanted to get home, justice never sleeps. I pulled over, got out of the car, identified myself as an officer and even recited the departments newly implemented; Clarify and Verify policy, which requires any officer to identify himself as law enforcement and then verify your badge number. I said "I'm a Police officer and my badge number 570 and ordered the suspect to stop running. I wasn't really upset that he made me chase him, because that meant he was resisting arrest, which granted me the ability to use an appropriate level of force when I caught him. I pursued him into an abandoned factory, and he wasn't that hard to find because he ran into the only building that had the lights on.

I tried to use my phone to call for backup, but I couldn't get any service.

I eventually cornered the suspect, who appeared to have something in his hand, and I ordered him to drop his weapon.

Then he spoke and said, I didn't understand, he helped him that man and he's in a better place now. Then he tried pleading with me. He said "I can explain everything, I just need to show you something and you will see" as the suspect began to close the distance between us at a steady pace. I ordered him to get on the ground and warned him that I would shoot him if he came any closer, as he maintained his pace in my direction, I saw what I believed to be a gun in his hand. I ordered him to drop the weapon and get on the ground at that point, the suspect raised his left hand, which was holding the presumed weapon, as he got within what I felt an unsafe proximity, in an act to preserve my life, I fired one shot into the suspects chest at which time he immediately fell to the ground. As I approached the suspect who had appeared to be unconscious, I confirmed that his hand did contain a small black object that upon further investigation was revealed to be a small black journal, which I took and is currently in my possession.

Due to the pursuit and subsequent standoff, I was not fully aware of my surroundings. It appeared that the suspect was using the area for some kind of workshop. There were rolls of copper and huge magnets on the work bench. Further analysis of the area revealed that the suspect was building some sort of electrical device that he had wired into the existing buildings electrical grid. While surveying the area, I discovered a floating device that was glowing brightly and had no visible connection to any sort of power source. As I carefully approached the object it, appeared to be some type of crystal that was pulsating and emitting a vibration and a sound like I had never heard before and I could feel the energy vibrate through me. It was actually quite pleasant and soothing considering I was fighting for my life a moment ago. I wondered where such a thing came from and at that moment as I looked into the light around the crystal, I saw a man with who had his back to me sitting at a desk writing in a book. I said to myself what the hell is this thing and who was that? A that moment the suspect said 'don't worry, he's not you' as he let out a painful sounding groan. I made the decision to secure the area and restrain the suspect in handcuffs until I could figure out what was going on in this building. As I approached the wounded suspect, he sat up and I pointed my sidearm and ordered him to not move or I would shoot him again. He pointed at my gun and it vanished right out of my hand, At that point, the suspect said "You have just made it clear that there is no WE in ME, removing his hat, and what I saw was something I am glad I don't have to turn this journal in for a review or that Cop Doc would see to it that I was locked away forever. He removed his hat, revealing that he looked just like me, only with a beard. He opened his hand and the floating crystal, vanished from the spot that it was hovering, suddenly just appearing in his hand, Then said "Enjoy your unremarkable and meaningless life, Nathan" and then appeared to dematerialize in front of my very eyes and all of the lights in the building turned off. I decided not to mention any of what happened that night to a soul. There was no way I could sound sane when trying to explain that the man I shot, who looked just like me and new my first name, disappeared into nothing. I flipped through the pages, recognized this was apparently schematics for the unfinished power grid that he was standing next to. The following page had hand drawn diagram of the crystal, but it was different than what I saw. The page had two letters written on it; N and S, having a great detective mind that by the way, shouldn't be wasted behind a desk because of an accident, I concluded the letters represented polarity and the drawing was suspended between two magnets. I don't understand magnets and if I'm going to be honest with myself in this 'journal to self-discovery,' I will admit they are weird and my least favorite rock. To further extend the bridge of honesty, the reason for not liking them is not because of the bully in grade school who threatened me with two magnets by telling me he will throw one at me it would just fly back to his hand so he could throw it at me all day.

That kid was a little prick I wish he could see me now.

But here is the best part of the day. Forget that I got to shoot somebody with no consequences, I remembered some of my training from before I quit the electrical lineman program at the community college, after reading the suspects journal, I believe the floating crystal was powering the abandoned building like some form of free energy device. And I have what appears to be everything I need in this book. I'm going back tomorrow morning to look for my side arm, because I really don't know how I am going to explain losing it, when technically I'm not supposed to be using it until I'm back on the street and hopefully he left something else worth money behind.

Now I'm going to drink my beer and go to bed. End of report.

The very next day, Nathan went back to the building. He was trying not to get seen. He wanted to sneak in and locate his gun, hoping there would be enough light to look around in the abandoned factory. But even if there wasn't, he still came prepared. He had brought his tactical bag along. It had glow sticks in it, with his department-issued flashlight inside. He was prepared to search even in pitch black if he had to.

He went there to look for a weapon, but what he found was the answer to every question he, or anyone really, had ever even thought of. His search for the gun uncovered something far more valuable than that, something that just cannot be quantified in words. Unfortunately for him, he would never fully be able to realize its importance nor grasp its power.

"How can a gun just vanish into thin air?" he mumbled to himself as he combed the area where the odd encounter had taken place.

As it turned out, he didn't need his flashlight after all. There was enough sunlight coming through the broken windows that he could see almost the entirety of the makeshift workshop. But that was a dead end because even all that light revealed nothing but a bare floor and the abandoned workstation of Nathan's mystery doppelganger. Even though there was no apparent sign of it, he still didn't leave. He looked all over the place. He combed every inch of the building, trying to find the pistol. Eventually, he came across a pile of books lying in one corner.

"Hey, nice! He left a couple of books behind. These look like they could actually be worth something."

He smiled. It was the kind that lights up rooms, but the bright rays of the morning sun already had that covered, and Nathan wasn't the kind of person to have a…kind smile.

He got excited as soon as he saw them, so he moved, eagerly snatching the books off the table that looked like a workstation. He began thumbing through the pages of the first book he'd gotten his hands on, and his smile faded. It turned into the look of a child who had just received a pair of socks as a birthday gift.

"Well, I can clearly see why he left this one behind. It's nothing but a bunch of drawings, just a man with no face, weird! And what's with this title…' Primenate.' I think he was trying to spell 'primate'. For someone who came off as so smart, he sure was pretty dumb."

He said, tossing the unwanted book onto the ground. He then started looking around the abandoned structure. A part of him was expecting the lifeless audience of empty cubicles to start chuckling at his unheard joke. So, he kept on speaking to himself. He picked up another book, hoping to not get disappointed again.

"I hope this one isn't like the first. I mean, they're all dumb-looking books, but I hope this one has something promising inside."

The second book that Nathan grabbed was some kind of a journal. Nathan thought it looked unusual because it had all kinds of odd symbols and glyphs on the cover. He inspected the outside of the journal, which wasn't damaged at all, unlike the other books, so he opened it to reveal something unexpected. There was no writing in the journal, at least not the kind of writing that Nathan could read. It appeared to have been filled with what looked like some kind of computer programming code.

"God…this is a whole new kind of crazy. I mean, I know Google, I know Amazon, and I know porn. Well…the only reason for that is because I searched where to buy porn on Google, and it brought me to Amazon. As far as I'm concerned, that is all computers are good for. I ain't got a single clue that all this shit is about."

He threw the journal across the empty room, and it landed upright on top of a rusty, dented file cabinet.

"One man's stupid book is another man's billion-dollar idea, or well…that's what I thought,'' he said as he marched out of the building, without his pistol, yet still feeling like he accomplished something. But this place wasn't done with him just yet.

As he made his way towards the exit, he didn't even bother to notice the small cabinet along the way, which had the second discarded journal. He also paid no attention to the fact that it had fallen from a position where it had been standing in an upright position. It was now lying flat on the table's surface and had opened to a blank page that began to form the number 6-6-6 on its own. There was no one there, yet the numbers kept appearing on the page as if they were being traced by an echo of a spirit with an ominous warning. Whatever it was, it tried to get Nathan's attention. Demonic numbers appearing out of nowhere on a sheet of paper is usually a pretty big deal, so people tend to notice. Nathan, however, was nothing like other people. Unfortunately for Nathan, and for whatever it was that wanted to be seen, this was not the first time Nathan had ever missed out on an important message, and of truth be told, chances are it is not going to be the last. It's actually hard to imagine how he ever managed to become a detective with that kind of awful situational awareness. He managed to miss things directly in front of him and could actually sleep through a storm if he wanted to. That was the level of inattentiveness he had. It was almost superhuman.

"Well, even if this was a dead end, at least It looks like I have gotten my hands on the most important book anyway. I just have to get someone to help me figure out how much it's worth, but what if they want a cut…hmm…it'll have to be someone naive, but not stupid 'cause they gotta help me decipher it."

The journal he had found was filled with formulas and calculations that he simply did not understand; he had noticed that most of these calculations appeared to be in the form of some type of mathematical formula or lead to some type of equation. He flipped through each and every page and thought that if there was anything of importance there, in that abandoned lab of his doppelganger, this journal was probably it. But it was beyond his ability to understand; math had never been his favorite subject, even back in school, and this was on a whole other level. It was beyond him.

"I barely passed the math portion of my exam at the academy, and even that was because Lenny let me cheat off his paper. There's no way I can do this. I'm gonna need to find someone who understands this stuff", He told himself, but who? Who could help him, and who could he trust to not screw him over.

"This has got to be something important. I mean, why else would it be hidden like this? This equation stuff is what they use to calculate weapon trajectories and stuff. I'll bet it would be worth a ton of money to the right person. And finding the right person won't be a problem, but I need to know what this is before I can do that. " He said as he put the journal in his tactical bag, sealing it up again. Even after knowing that the equations and calculations were necessary, he still had no idea as to what purpose they served. He took that and another journal that was left in the empty building by the mystery man and made his way out of the factory in many ways. He was more confused now than he had been when he came here, but at least now he knew that the mystery man who had his face was in possession of something valuable, and he intended to make a profit of that.

The mystery of the mathematical formulas bothered him so much, in fact, that he decided that he would ask his sister if she still had her ex-boyfriend's number. With that thought in mind, he went straight to their apartment. He was so focused and driven by the thought of cashing in any fortune he could make off the journal that he didn't even bother to knock and barged straight into her room.

" Hey Nat! Do you remember the math teacher-dude you used to date back in college? How can I get a hold of him? You still got his number?"Nathan demanded as he burst through her bedroom door, startling her.

"WHOA, NATHAN! Don't you know how to knock?!" His sister screamed as she tried to cover herself with the sheets around her. Nathan had managed to utterly surprise twin sister, who was now lying under her covers. He had also frightened another girl, who tried to get out of sight, as she appeared to have been sitting on the edge of the bed putting her underwear back on.

"Get out of here, Nate! You know I hate it when you do stuff like that!" Natasha demanded as she yelled.

"I need to ask you something important. This is like lif