Time Agent | ONC2024

14. Out of Bounds

(This chapter is dedicated to Nyhterides, a fellow ONC veteran of seven years (!) and her nightmarish story for this year's ONC, The Rapunzels)

Damn, thought Jack. There goes any wishful thinking.

Bowing reluctantly to the inevitable, he introduced the two men.

"Sven Freier, meet Jean Brun, my brother. I hope he didn't embarrass you," he added, fixing Jean with a dampening look.

"Hi," answered Jean, ignoring Jack and striding forward to take Sven by the hand. He held on a moment longer than was normally polite, giving it a little squeeze, enjoying the feel of Sven's warm skin against his cold palm.

"Sven, is that Danish?"

"Probably," answered Sven, as vaguely as he could. He wasn't quite certain where Denmark was but he thought it was somewhere in Scandinavia. Or it had been.

"Nevermind. What brings you here? How did you meet Jacques?"

"Jean, give the man a break," scolded Jack. "We met on the roof while I was having a smoke," he offered, as Sven seemed unable to answer, apparently overwhelmed by the rapid fire of questions.

"Do you live here then? I'm sure I would have remembered if I'd seen you before! Are you a new tenant or are you just visiting?" Not waiting to be invited, Jean pulled out a chair and joined them at the table, his eyes bright with interest, his knee nudging against Sven, ever so lightly.

"Just visiting," Sven finally managed to get a word out. His brain was trying to process what was happening. He could have sworn he felt a jolt when Jean took his hand, but that was ridiculous. It was just a shiver from the contrast, Jean's hand cold from being outside in the rain. That's all.

But stars, he was cute! That mouth. Cheeky and cute. He'd felt attracted to men before, but not like this. He wanted to pounce and eat him up.

And wasn't it just his damn luck that Jean was totally out of bounds? Time Agent's rule number one, don't get emotionally involved with the locals. And more than that, no sex, absolutely no sex, with anyone. In his particular case, there was no risk of anyone becoming pregnant, but the rule still held, drummed in from day one.

He straightened, moving his leg out of Jean's range as he tried to rein in his feelings. Sure, he really fancied Jean, but it was just a chemical reaction. He could get over it, he would. He had to focus on the job he was sent here to do.

"Lucky us, then!" teased Jean. "What are you both drinking? Coffee? How about something stronger, Jacques? I was looking forward to a cognac."

Supressing a sigh as his last faint hope for a tete a tete went down the gurgler, Jack rose and fetched a bottle from the cupboard. He took out three glasses.

"Sven? Would you like a cognac?"

"Sure," said Sven gamely, hoping it wouldn't taste as peculiar as the coffee. Maybe this would take his mind off Jean and his cold hands. He watched carefully as his hosts took their first mouthful, Jack a sip and Jean a healthy swallow. Cautiously, he followed Jack's lead and still ended up coughing and spluttering. Red-faced, he put the glass down hastily on the table.

"Go down the wrong way?" asked Jean, solicitously.

That damn drink had alcohol in it! The real thing, not the carefully sanitized version he was used to drinking as a civilised man. Didn't they know this stuff could kill you? It had a kick to it, that was for sure! He took another, very small sip and felt the fire run down his throat and up the back of his nose.

A third sip had his head swimming, ever so slightly. Suddenly suspicious, he glanced at his hosts, but they appeared unaffected, casually enjoying their drinks. He saw the bottle was only half full and supposed, if they drank this cognac regularly, they must be used to it. He wasn't.

He left his glass on the table and leant forward. Interesting as this whole experience was, he had a mission and not much time to complete it. And the Senta had directed him to this particular building for a reason.

"There are other people living in this building, right? And working here?"

"Yes, I think there are about thirty flats. But it's all residential."

"All of it? That can't be. What about the laboratory?"

"What laboratory?" asked Jack, puzzled.

"Have I got the word wrong? A research centre? Rooms where the technicians work?"

Jack was shaking his head. "No, there's nothing like that here. Not in this building."

Sven thought he was telling the truth, which confused him. Then he remembered that the Senta back in his own time hid behind a false name, to shield it from the public gaze. They probably did something similar here.

"What about a section that's closed, where people aren't allowed to enter?"

"You mean the maintenance room?" That was the only restricted room Jack could think of, but he was pretty sure it didn't conceal a laboratory of any sort. "It's where they house the heating and cooling units, and the cleaning equipment."

Sven had to admit that didn't sound promising but he would have to check it out anyway.

"What made you think there was a laboratory here?" asked Jean, curious.

This time, Sven had an answer prepared. He hoped it would satisfy them.

"I'm a scientist. I was told there was a laboratory here, working on a new technology, and my boss told me I should investigate." And interestingly enough, that was pretty much the truth, as far as it went.

Jack was shaking his head again. "Well, whoever told you that, made a mistake. I'm certain there's nothing like that going on in this building. I suppose someone might have a small experiment going on in their flat but nothing major, nothing of any significance. Nothing requiring space and equipment, or qualified staff."

"What sort of scientist?" Jean was focussed on Sven, rather than some abstract laboratory.

"Physics," said Sven. "I'm working on a theory about temporal displacement."

"What?" Jack looked mystified.

"You'd probably call it time travel."

Jean choked on his cognac.