Gran Has Lost Her Sword Again |
2nd August 2046 “Jarrod!” “Yes?” “Where’s my sword?” “Where you usually keep it.” “I’m looking at where I usually keep it… it’s not there!” “Then I don’t know where it is.” “Yes you do!” “No, I don’t.” “Have you moved it again?” “No.” “You’re not bloody well hiding it again, are you?” “No.” “Well it’s not in my wardrobe!” “As I said, I don’t know where it is then.” “You have moved it, haven’t you?” “No I haven’t.” “I need it!” “So I gather.” “Just smegging well tell me where it is!” “I don’t know where your sword is!” “Yes you do!” “Elisha, I don’t know where your smegging sword is and I haven’t bloody well touched it!” “That’s what you said the last time you bloody well hid it from me!” “That may be so… but I don’t know where it is.” “I can’t find it!” “Then where did you leave it?” “Where I always leave it!” “Well obviously you haven’t left it where you usually leave it.” “Don’t give me that! You’ve moved it!” “No, I haven’t touched it.” pause “I learned my lesson after the last time I tried to hide it from you.” “Jarrod, I have now searched my entire wardrobe and it’s not there!” “Then look somewhere else.” “Where else could it be?!?” “I don’t know!” “I always keep it in my wardrobe!” “Obviously you haven’t this time.” “I always put my things in the same place.” “As I said, obviously you haven’t this time.” “Don’t give me that! If I find that you’ve moved it or hidden it from me again…” “Yes?” …muttering… “Yes?” “You know what will happen…” “Yes…?” “Look, just tell me where the bloody thing is.” “I haven’t touched it.” “Yes you have!” “No I haven’t!” …pause… “Anybody would think you’re the 64 year old and I’m the 62 year old.” “I heard that!” “You’re the bloody Circulator! You’re the one who’s supposed to be ageless! You’re the one who’s supposed not to grow old! And listen to how you’re carrying on… anybody would think that you have dementia.” ~~~~~~~ I stood in the kitchen in my work out clothes, with my sword hanging in it’s sheath on my back, listening to my grandparents bicker back and forth. I was getting bored and my muscles were developing atrophy. I looked up at the clock on the wall… Gran had been looking for her sword for half an hour now. Gran was upstairs meant to be getting ‘changed’, aside from looking for her sword for our practice and Pa was in the study, trying to mark papers. It was funny watching my grandparents bicker. The frequency of their arguments added fuel to their chemistry, even after being married for 40 years. It kind of grossed me out, when I caught the two making out now and then, when they weren’t fighting that is. Mum told me that they didn’t fight this much when she was growing up. She reasoned it was because when she was growing up, Pa was more often at the hospital working as a Surgeon than he was at home. Now that he was retired from Surgery and he lectured part-time at London University? He had more time at home than Gran was used to. “They have to get used to each other’s company again.” Mum snickered quietly last week when she and Dad were here for dinner. It was during Mum and Dad’s visit last week during their brief holiday from her work whilst she was restoring an old Hindu Temple in India. I straightened up from leaning against the kitchen bench when I heard my Gran stomp bad-temperedly down the stairs. She marched over to the study doorway. Pa looked up from his desk in surprise at her appearance. She had regenerated to her youthful 16 year old appearance that I only saw her in when she was training me as a Circulator. This youthful girl that was my Grandmother stood in her tight-fitting work out clothes in the study doorway, leaning against the frame with one hand on her hip. “Jarrod.” She said annoyed. “Where is it?” The 64 year old man who was my Grandfather stared at this girl before him, his own annoyance faded away as a grin began to spread out across his face… “I’m sorry, what were you going to do to me again if you found out that I moved it?” he smiled mischievously. Gran let out a brief laugh, before she shook her head at him. “If I told you, would you tell me where my sword is?” “You’re the Circulator.” He looked her up and down. “Why can’t you ‘see’ where it is?” “Because it’s more fun to bully you until you tell me where it is.” “You can come over here and try if you like.” He raised his eyebrows. I turned away and stared out of the kitchen window and tried to pretend I wasn’t a witness to their banter. “Oh gross!” I moaned. “Do you hear that? We’re grossing out our 18 year old granddaughter.” Gran told her husband, walking into the study. “Oh dear, after 40 years of marriage, we can’t behave like that now, can we?” Pa laughed softly. I briefly looked over my shoulder and saw via the kitchen doorway and through the study doorway my Gran in her youthful appearance walk around the desk in the study and sit on Pa’s lap. “Oh come on, you guys!” I moaned even louder. “Right! Gran, I’ll meet you at Headquarters.” “I’ll see you in the Self Defense Training Room.” She replied, not looking away from her husband as she slung her arms around his neck. ~~~~~~~ I instantaneously phased out of Gran and Pa’s Kensington home in London, which looked like I vanished in a bright flash of light; before I reformed on the Gate platform at Circulate Headquarters on Mars. The Gate was made up of two circular mirrors on the floor and ceiling, to amplify a Circulator’s particles of light as they passed through time. As the Circulator had the inbuilt ability to phase through time by turning their biological bodies into light? The Gate could move their light particles to different locations on Earth, or elsewhere it had the co-ordinates for. The circular mirrored ceiling above the platform would show the reflection of the place the Circulator was going to or coming from. Hence, the image of my kitchen in Kensington was fading away to the mirror’s usual reflection, of its twin mirror below it. “Hi Darianne.” I greeted the Calculator on duty behind the Gate controls, as I stepped down from the platform. “How are you?” “I’m OK thanks Arabella. How are you?” “I can’t complain… no-one listens.” I joked. “You can’t talk, you’re the sixth strongest Circulator in the Circulate! You and your mother have defied the natural law by your grandmother producing two more Circulators after 1985. You’re very existence has upset the space time continuum. You three women have not only the power to manipulate time and space and gravity, but your political sway on the Circulate Council almost puts our democracy to shame!” Darianne jokingly prattled off whilst pretending to be offended. “How much do you hate me?” I teased, walking over to her and leaning on her crystallized computer controls. “Enough to transport your light waves and make you reform in the middle of the Salem Witch Hunts.” She teased back. “Ouch!” I laughed. “Are you here to train?” she inquired. “Yep.” “In the Self Defense Training Room?” she looked at my sword. “Yep.” “How is that going?” she asked, interested. “Are you on the same par as your Gran and your Mum?” “Nearly.” I shrugged. “Hmm.” Darianne looked me over analytically. “You’re still so young and yet you have the power of fate in your hands.” Just then the sliding glass door opened and we were interrupted by a strange man walking into the Gate Room. He was tall, good looking, in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes. “Hi Darianne.” He greeted. The strange man gave me an eyeful, but he didn’t smile or acknowledge me in any further way. He seemed to recognize me somehow, although I’ve never seen him before. I smiled at him, liking what I saw, but he looked away dismissively. Oh, that was the cold shoulder if ever I received it! “Hi Mike.” Darianne quickly started inputting something into her controls. “Indianapolis, 23rd March, 2046?” “Yes please.” He said. The 23rd of March 2046? That’s where I’ve just come from! I looked on him in curiosity. I watched him step up onto the Gate platform and as he went into phase by his biological body dissolving into one made of light? He altered his age from his mid-twenties appearance into a man in his late sixties. Oh, I wonder why he has to alter his age the way my grandmother does for my human grandfather’s behalf. “Activating the Gate now.” Darianne reported. This ‘Mike’ character now looked upwards at the circular mirrored ceiling above. Instead of showing his bright reflection, it showed his destination of Indianapolis, as the image zoomed in closer to show specifically a kitchen in a townhouse in Indianapolis. Mike had remained in his ghostly form after manipulating his age, which his light particles all now streamed up into the mirror and disappear in a flash of light. “Darianne, who was that?” I looked on her eagerly. “Who, Mike?” “Yes.” “Mike Sabre?” Darianne gave me a funny look. “Mike who?” “You don’t know who Mike Sabre is?” she looked on strangely. “No! Now who is he?” “Arabella, Mike Sabre was a normal human being until your grandmother turned him into a Circulator.” Darianne announced. My Gran did what?! But that’s impossible…? “She made Circulate history when she did so. No other Circulator can do this, and you Gran hasn’t done so since.” Darianne went on. “Wait – wait - wait on a second here.” I grabbed her arm. “My Gran TURNED him into a Circulator?” “Yes, it was just before the two became involved.” “What?!” I exclaimed. “My Gran had an affair with him?!” “Yes, I think she and Mike were involved before she married your grandfather.” Darianne speculated, then she gave me a sheepish look. “I think he was involved with your mother before she married your father too.” “He’s been with my grandmother and my mother…?” I blanched. “Hmm.” She looked downwards and busied herself with something on the control panel. I looked away from her as this sunk in… Was this the reason why this Mike Sabre looked at me as if he knew me? Is this the reason why he looked like he didn’t like me? Is this the reason why he looked as if he didn’t want to know me? Well too bad because I wanted to find out more about him! What the hell made this guy so special to make my Gran change him into a Circulator let alone date him? Or why did my Mum date him? Or how the hell was my Gran even able to change him like that? “Er, thanks Darianne.” I said distantly, before I turned around and left the Gate Room via the sliding glass door. “I’ll be seeing you, Arabella.” She sung knowingly, just as all Calculators did. ~~~~~~~~ I began to walk down the smooth, black floors of the corridors and hallways of Circulate HQ. The base was inside of a gigantic glass dome, on the surface of Mars near the Mare Acidalum 250,000 years in the past. As the corridor I was walking down skirted past the outer dome wall, I looked out at the green vegetation that covered Mars’ surface of the past. I even caught sight of a butterfly land on a flowering weed by the glass. The air outside though would be cold and thin, which I knew would result in the greenery eventually dying out as Mars was destined to become the ‘Red Planet’ by the time mankind invented telescopes. Inside the dome though, was a direct contrast to Mars of the past. The lay-out was ensconced with 25th century furnishings and technology. Touch-screen crystallized computers were everywhere, on the walls in between the sliding glass doors as well as interfaces on desks. Circulators and Calculators, members of the exclusive Circulate wandered past in either futuristic one-piece suits or in colourful costumes of the different cultures of Earth’s past. The Circulate HQ was sparsely decorated with all of the rooms and connecting hallways in an ‘open plan’ lay out, allowing as much natural light to come through the glass dome as possible. I walked past an observation lounge by the glass dome wall, past the Medical Lab where I occasionally had my check-ups; past the Props Room which was a store room housing every period costume for every human culture that the room ironically looked like one massive wardrobe; past the Viewing Room where Calculators monitored the time line of human history on a three-sided crystallized pyramid that was connected to the Circulate Mainframe computer; past the Circulate Council Chambers before I eventually recognized the sliding glass doors for the Self Defense Training Room. I walked in through the double glass doors that slid open upon my approach, to find a couple of Circulators finishing up. I stood off to the side and watched the two men wearing work-out clothes spar with each other with their light speed reflexes. They were training on the softly-padded floor thanks to the ever-present white mats. Three of the walls of the Training Room were also padded. The fourth wall however looked like a cross between an armory or decoration or both. Nearly every single weapon ever created through out human history was on this wall, down from spears, swords and shields, to longbows, crossbows, muskets, rifles and up until automatic handguns and then the futuristic laser guns and laser rifles. The Circulate abhorred violence but they had these keep-sakes to train with, so they wouldn’t be unprepared against a violent human they come across in the era they visit. As I was staring at the armory, for some reason my eyes became transfixed on the row of swords hanging on the wall. They were highly decorated from several differing cultures of Earth through the era’s, such as medieval Chinese swords, European sabers and even a couple of Japanese Katanas. My own sword, as were Mum’s and Gran’s, were silver-folded-over-steel Japanese Katanas. We preferred the Japanese style due to their strength, sharpness and they weren’t as heavy as other swords could be. It was whilst I was staring at the swords, with my own on my back when my eyes widened and my mouth fell open… …oh shit! I just remembered where Gran’s sword was! I had borrowed it with out asking Gran first, when I leant it to Em for our training session in the meadow! Gran is going to flip when she finds out! To the other two Circulator’s surprise, I instantaneously phased out of the Training Room in a bright flash of light. I disappeared from Circulate HQ on Mars in 250,000 years in the past, to reappear back in my era on the Lokoti Tribal Lands that were situated in the Alaska Range. I found myself standing on the gravel driveway to Em’s house, which was a two-story log cabin with a large wooden front veranda. Their house was on a forest-encrusted hill just off from the community centre of Lokoti Tribal Lands, tucked away in a corner of the huge Hunter National Park that went for hundreds upon hundreds of square kilometers. Well, ‘Hunter National Park’ was what the Alaskan Government called it, but the Lokoti saw the National Park as apart of their lands, as the earth has always provided for the people. I quickly skipped up the veranda steps and knocked on the front door. If Em wasn’t home, I was hoping either his mother or his grandfather was. I thought it would be rude to just instantaneously phase into Em’s bedroom to get the sword myself. “Come in, Arabella!” I heard Grandfather Flint call out. I wasn’t surprised that Flint Riverclaw had either heard or smelled my approach with his keen Werewolf hearing or sense of smell. He was the leader of the Lokoti Werewolf pack with Em as the pack’s ‘newest’ member when he turned when he was 10 years old. I think Grandfather Flint was well over a hundred years old, but he had the human appearance of a man in his fifties. “Hey Grandfather Flint.” I greeted brightly as I opened the door and came into the house. I heard Em’s mother, Mrs. Riverclaw in the kitchen as usual as she was always cooking up something. “Hi Mrs. Riverclaw!” “Hi Arabella.” Mrs. Riverclaw called back. “Is Em home?” I looked on the middle-aged Native Alaskan man, sitting in his easy-chair reading the sports pages of a newspaper. Grandfather gave a nod with his head towards the staircase, which I turned to see Em standing up the top of. “Hi Arabella!” Em greeted with his characteristic exuberance. “Hey Em.” I walked towards the stairs. “Have you still got Gran’s sword?” “Um yeah, I think so.” He looked thoughtful as he tried to remember. Then he turned around to go into his bedroom to check. I started to jog up his staircase to accompany him, when I was interrupted halfway up. “Arabella, are you staying for dinner?” Mrs. Riverclaw asked as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. I looked back on the short, portly Native Alaskan woman who looked expectantly back up. Mrs. Riverclaw was Em’s widowed mother who had a kind heart and a quiet nature. She was well-used to my sudden appearances and with Em’s and my sleep-overs over the years? She was also accustomed to setting an extra place for me at their table. “Oh thanks, Mrs. Riverclaw! But I just came by to pick something up. I think I’ll be eating with Gran and Pa tonight in London.” I explained. “OK. Say hi to your Gran and Pa for me.” Mrs. Riverclaw turned to go back into the kitchen. “For me too.” Grandfather Flint sung out. “We should have your grandparents over for dinner again. It’s been a while since we’ve seen them.” “Cool.” I shrugged, then I raced up the rest of the stairs in near light-speed as I charged into Em’s bedroom. Em was kneeling down on the floor, looking under his bed for something when I came in. He was quick to retrieve it and when he stood up again, he was now holding my Gran’s sheathed sword in his hand. “Here we go.” Em handed it over carefully, still acting uncomfortable around it. “Next time we sword practice Arabella, do you think you could bring me a sword that wasn’t silver-folded-over-steel?” He was inferring to the well-known fact that Werewolves were allergic to silver, as were Vampires and other Shape-Shifters. “But I brought it so you could practice and get used to being around silver.” I started to lecture again in my English accent. “If your enemies see that you’re not afraid of silver, then they’ll be less game to use it on you.” “Yeah I know Arabella.” Em hastily nodded as he spoke in his American accent. “And I can see your logic and all? But no matter how much I’m around silver, it’s still gonna hurt us no matter what.” I sighed as I could see his point of view, which made me feel a little idiotic. Em was very patient as he always has been for the past four years of our friendship, since the first day we met. We were the same age and he was the most patient and kindly Werewolf I had ever met, aside from his Grandfather of course. The fact that Lokoti Werewolves were the only breed of Werewolf in the world to no longer hunt human? Also advertised this in bright neon letters. “I’m sorry Em.” I felt my face flush. “I suppose it was a little stupid.” “No – no – not at all!” he spoke quickly. “I mean, if I learn not to be so afraid of silver, then whoever I fight one day won’t be able to use my fear against me! I get it. It can still hurt us, that’s all.” “I’m sorry…” I said again. “No, don’t be!” he patted me on the arms. “I like training with you, Arabella! I like how you come and show me what you’ve learned at Circulate HQ.” “Really?” I looked up into his waiting gaze. Em’s blue eyes tried to hold my own. As I too had blue eyes and long, wavy chestnut hair? Em’s blue eyes looked sharper, as they we stood out against his shoulder-length, straight black hair. He got his blue eyes from his Caucasian grandmother, Grandfather’s Flint’s late wife. He also got his paler skin from her, as his mother and grandfather had the typical Lokoti bronzed skin. However the rest of him mirrored Grandfather Flint as being Lokoti Werewolves they were tall, broad shouldered and well-built thanks to their supernatural physiques. “Sure!” he grinned. Then he looked me up and down in my tight work-out clothes. “Are you on your way to another training session now?” “Yeah, Gran was screaming for her sword when I remembered I accidentally left it here.” I snickered. “You wanna come over later, after your training session and show me what you learned? I think Mom is making casserole with corn bread for dinner.” Em offered in his typical fashion. Em was always eager to spend as much time with me as possible. Quite often he would drop whatever he had planned with his Lokoti friends, from my sudden appearances. Mrs. Riverclaw called our friendship, “like two peas in a pod,” as Grandfather Flint once told me it was because Em was in awe of my aura. Werewolves as well as certain other supernatural beings could spot a Circulator from a mile away, as they could see our auras produced from our bio-electromagnetic fields which were in temporal flux. “I’ll see if I can get away. Pa spoke of making a stir fry for dinner, so I think I’m eating with my grandparents tonight.” I told him. “Oh, OK.” He tried to keep his face from falling. “Um, text message me when you want to do another movie night or something.” “Will do.” I smilingly promised. I think Em recognized I was about to instantaneously phase out of his bedroom when he quickly added on, “oh and Arabella?” “Yes Em?” “You look good in your work out clothes.” That made me pause as my eyes partially widened in surprise, “thanks.” “Anytime.” He said brightly. Then on that note, I disappeared in another bright flash of light as I instantaneously phased from his bedroom in Alaska, back to the Self Defense Training Room at Circulate HQ on Mars. ~~~~~~~ (To Be Continued...) The Circulate Series Circulate © K.R. Smith, 1st ed. 2005. ISBN: 978-0-646-53776-4 Scent © K.R. Smith, 2010. ISBN: 978-0-646-53730-6 Paperback Novels available at: http://stores.lulu.com/onaya3 eBook Novels available at: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/onaya3 Find me on Facebook; http://www.facebook.com/pages/Circulate-Series-By-KR-Smith/222260061814?ref=ts |