Seulgi's POV.
My funds were running low so I most certainly needed a job. While my college was paid for and I had saved enough for my room and board, I had little else to spare. My purchase of the things belonging to Irene, used up a good sized chunk of the cash I had.
I had spotted a note advertising a job for a lab assistant. It was a strange note stating the job had long hours and lousy pay, but possible great rewards. So I called the number, but got an answering machine. I left my name, number, email address and said I was interested in the lab assistant position.
I got an email 2 hours later.
"Come today at 12 noon to my lab for an interview. It's in an old factory on the east end of London. 320 Black Church lane."
Looking at my clock, I realized that I had to leave this instant to get there on time. I didn't even have time to change into something presentable. I was dressed in black leggings, a plaid skirt and a green top.
"Oh well. You didn't give me time to change. What you see is what you get." I mumbled as I grabbed my keys and headed out.
I made it down to the tube station in record time. Fortunately luck was with me and I managed to arrive at the address with 5 minutes to spare. The building looks very old and appeared to be once a small factory. The area had several old factories that appeared to have been converted into lofts and small businesses.
The front appeared to have been remodeled at some point and some storefronts put in. There was a dry cleaners and a Chinese restaurant in the only 2 that appeared to be occupied at the moment. 320 Black Church Lane. was at the end and I noticed immediately the glass was painted over. But over the doorway in faded letters read. "Atlas Records and Tapes."
I began to have a bad feeling about this job and reached into my leather Jacket to make sure my trusty pair of scissors was present. Knocking on the door got no response, so I tried the knob. The door was open so I walked in.
The front room was obviously a record store at one point in time. I saw a counter, and empty racks which once held cd's. But besides that, there were boxes of what appeared to be electronic parts. Other boxes held papers and reference books of some technical nature. The whole place looked chaotic and unorganized. In one corner sat a cluttered desk that was covered with papers.
Before I could do anything, a man who looked about 40 burst out of the door in the back. The door itself said Keep out. His hair was unkempt and dressed kind of like a hippy.
Holding something in his hand he rushed up to me with an excited expression. "Tell me, what is this?" I noticed right away, he was an American.
I took a quick look at the object in his hand. "Um... It looks like a socket wrench that's half melted."
He huffed and looked at the thing rather strangely. "I thought so too. At least it didn't completely melt this time."
He then pulled out a coconut from his pocket and took a sip while looking me over carefully. "Dressed in Goth clothing, hasty judgmental expression. Do you like science fiction?"
I shook my head. "Only when people die."
"Are you a patient person?"
"No!"
"Let me guess. You love horror movies and all kinds of morbid things."
"Yes."
"Are you a student?"
"Yes"
"What's your major? Please tell me it's not physics, mathematics or history."
This was the strangest interview I've ever had. He didn't seem menacing, but just odd. "I'm majoring in Theatre, with a minor in writing."
He then leaned in and gave me a very suspicious look. "Jacob Foster didn't send you, did he? He's always spying on me."
I searched my mind for who that was and came up empty. "Who's Jacob Foster?"
"What's your name?"
"It's Seulgi. Seulgi Kang."
He then smiled and extended his hand, "Well Seulgi. You're hired. The pay is 300 pounds every two weeks. The working conditions are messy, I may call you at odd time's and have you do odd things. But thanks to an arrangement, meals are included. Courtesy of the Chinese restaurant two doors down. We have an arrangement. There are two rules at present."
"What are they?"
"The door in the back has a hallway. You will find the bathrooms there. But at the end of the hallway is another door. There is some very dangerous equipment in there. Until I say so, you must stay out. Second rule is that you must not discuss what you see or do here. Deal?"
I'm going to regret this. "Sure." I said as I shook his hand.
He handed me a wad of pound notes. "Great. Your first task is to get me a new socket wrench. Since my last one melted. When you come back, I need you to search through the boxes in the room and find something for me."
"What's that?"
"A book called, Linear equations of Particle physics by D. Schneider."
It was then I realized that there were no less than 20 boxes of books all stacked around the room. "One socket wrench coming up."
He said goodbye and I headed out. I used my phone to find a hardware store nearby and started to walk. About half way into my 20 minute walk to the hardware store, I suddenly realized something. This part of London is where Jack the Ripper once stalked his victims.
"So cool. I must find time to see the murder sites."
I returned about an hour after I left, with a new socket wrench in hand. Zacharov wasn't in the bathrooms or the front room so I knocked on the door in the back.
It suddenly opened an inch and an eye appeared in the gap. "Were you followed? Perhaps by an older looking gentleman in a wheel chair. He doesn't move and speaks in a mechanical voice."
I slowly shook my head and held out the wrench. "No. I have your wrench, though."
The door opened slightly. Zacharov then reached out and snatched the wrench.
"Thank you. Let me know when you find the book." With that he slammed the door shut.
I spent the next two hours looking for the book he was searching for. He had boxes of electronic parts, technical papers, and science books. Though I noticed that most of the books related to physics and several of them seemed to have something to do with wormholes.
I had heard that wormholes were supposed to be little holes in space that would take you from point a to point b, allowing you to bypass millions of miles in normal space. That was pretty much all I knew. I eventually found the book and gave it to Zacharov. He spent almost the entire time in his lab, only occasionally coming out to see how I was doing. I would occasionally hear him, making noise in the back room and once or twice the lights dimmed as I heard a loud humming sound.
He then had me do some data entry. He had a whole notebook of numbers and had me enter them in an excel spread sheet. I finished about 7:30 in the evening. He gave me some Chinese food and sent me home, asking me to return in two days.
I could have asked him about his experiments, but figured with his paranoia he wouldn't tell me a squat. As I rode the subway home, I found my mind falling into the past. Letting my thoughts once again return to Irene.
A long dead woman who's face, haunts me. The more I saw that face, the more I had to know her. So when I arrived home, I sat in bed and read the first of her journals. I felt this thrill to know that I would finally get to know this mysterious beauty.
June 3rd, 1862
Today is my birthday. I turn 12 today. I'm so excited. Mother and father— for my present, bought me a journal to write in. They must have heard me talking about how Roseanne Park had one and that I wanted one too. I want one so I can write about my exciting adventures. My friend Wendy and I went walking by the river in the park. I saw a swan with its babies swimming behind it. I love the park. It's my favorite place.
The first entry wasn't too exciting, but from the number of books, I can tell that Irene managed to keep up with her journals. I expected them to get more exciting as time went on.
I soon discovered that there were a few gaps in the entries. Irene wouldn't write every single day, but did frequently. There was couple of spaces between books. I'd guessed that some of the journals were missing. By the end of the first night, I managed to make it through her 14th, year and learned quite a bit about her.
Her name was Joohyun Irenea Bae Ferrer. She was born in London, England on June 3rd, 1850. She was the youngest daughter of Major Carlos Ferrer of the British Army and his Korean-Spanish wife, Hwayeon Bae.
Carlos Ferrer was born into a family of minor nobility, whose fortunes had long since faded. With little left to his estate, Carlos' father managed to scrape up enough to buy him a commission as a Lieutenant in the 24th Regiment of foot. I had to look it up online, but learned that in the British army it was a commonplace for wealthy families to have purchased officer's commissions for their son's.
From what I read, Carlos Ferrer served in India and was decorated for bravery in the Second Anglo-Sikh war in India in the 1840's. Carlos from what I learned actually turned out to be an excellent officer who earned the respect of his men and his superiors. It was in India when he met and fell in love with Hwayeon Bae, the daughter of prosperous Korean-Spanish merchant.
In 1848 they had their first child, a daughter named Suzanne. However I learned that for reasons not quite stated, that she was rarely ever referred to by her full name. She's always called simply Suzy. In 1849, Carlos Transferred to a regiment stationed in London, where Irene was born.
Carlos served in the British army for 3 more years before retiring at the rank of Major. Afterward he settled in the nearby town of Herford where he opened an Inn and tavern as well as being a merchant.
Irene stated that her mother wanted to settle down and not be dragged all over the earth like her father had done with her. As a merchant's daughter, Irene's mother lived in several parts of the globe.
He soon became a respected member of the community and with his military and family background, he was accepted as a peer of the more upper class families of the area— the Son's and the Tuan's.
Things passed normally until Irene's mother died of Cholera in 1863. Irene was greatly saddened by her mother's loss. But beyond the basic facts of Irene's parents, I learned that Irene was a bright and happy person, who thought frequently of others. She loved spending her time in the park, riding her horse when she could and loved to sing.
Though singing in the church choir was her only outlet for that. Her sister Suzy was a bit more selfish and self-centered, and picked on Irene from time to time.
Irene's best friend was Wendyline Son, the daughter of a wealthy family in town. Apparently her strange brother almost always referred to her as Wendy so the label stuck.
I noticed something odd as I read. While Suzy came of age, her interest in boys became quite clear. Irene's interest in boys however, seemed to be lacking. I'd noticed one other thing. When she described women, she usually was more descriptive than with males. The details seemed to be lacking with men, as if she really didn't pay much attention to them.
It got my mind thinking and wondering, if we had more in common than I originally thought. But I quickly cautioned myself not to read too much into the ramblings of 14 year old.
But ramblings aside, I felt myself being pulled in deeper and deeper.