The Consciousness of Tyme (II)

Part Two: Realizations

I was strolling through the city of Avril, waving to all the people I had gotten to know over the cycles with Charlotte, many of them people who had seen my art but never known I’d lived so close in proximity to them. As the two of us, holding hands with interlaced fingers, walked I noticed a mob of obnoxious boys playing loudly and not bothering to apologize to anyone they may have bumped into. I have patience — great god do I have patience — but one thing I cannot stand is rudeness.

“Please, Charlotte, excuse me while I go speak to these boys.” I asked of Charlotte. She looked caringly into my eyes and let me go. I walked quietly over to the group and tapped firmly upon the person seeming to be the ringleader.

“Hey, it’s a punk loser! Trying to talk to Andre, huh?” He tested me, but I bit back my emotions and proceeded.

“Good noon, sirs. I have, upon request, come over here to quiet you. If you’d please returnee to your homes of simply quiet down, perhaps—”

“Perhaps? Seems this ol’ chap believes we can be won over with words? NO!” His motley crew all roared his last word. All except one, who continually avoided my piercing gaze. “So watcha gonna do if we don’t leave, huh punk?” He pushed on my shoulder a bit hard.

“I really don’t want to resort to violence.”

“Why? Because you’ll lose?”

“Andre, don’t…” The eye-avoiding boy spoke in Andre’s ear. “We’re here for one reason, remember? We do our job and leave.”

“Your friend is right,” I said calmly.

“Don’t defend him! Oliver, get outta here.”

“But without me you don’t have—”

“Oh… right. Well, shrimp, you’re lucky Oliver was here to persuade me into not beating you into a pulp, but I don’t always listen to him. Let’s go, bros. We’ve got research to do.” Andre bumped into my shoulder and a small bit of sand hit his face. He half-turned.

“Hmm… int’restin’.” He smiled eerily and kept going. Oliver looked at me directly and turned away, as if to hide from me. I remembered him from somewhere, but I couldn’t remember where from. Charlotte rubbed my shoulders.

“Good job there, Nicolas. You got them to listen!”

“Not just me. One of them helped… he seemed truly familiar.”

“Maybe you’ve seen his face on a wanted poster,” Charlotte joked. We didn’t need those any more since the genetically enhanced bloodhound came about: it was never-tiring, bulletproof, a scent catcher, and able to know a person’s features by their scent.

“Perhaps,” I said listlessly. We continued our walk, not bringing up the topic of the boys in the park until we returned to my home.

We were sitting in my backyard, watching the sunset, when I realized why Oliver was reminding me of something. I told Charlotte my tale of Oliver from ten years ago.

I was visiting a former friend of mine, all the way in HyperCity. His sister had died and the biopsy had revealed she had been murdered by firearm. The weapon belonged to a certain street gang that was known as mercenaries as well. Needless to say, he was out for blood. I was called in to help him, along with one of his cousins, who died a few years back.

Anyway, I had found a fire going on in a building and had gone in to help anyone who needed it. I found all but one person dead when gunfire had gone off. I protected the barely breathing boy no older than nine years old and carried him out of the fire. The ambulance resuscitated him and tried to check on me. Of course I didn’t let them, knowing that once the stethoscope touched my chest I’d be sent off to the closest hospital. I visited the boy daily, only leaving when the nurses told me to. He had black hair and brown eyes, deep and wise. He’d been taught manners, for when he could speak again the first thing he said was, “Thank you, sir.”

“You are welcome. I don’t know your name.”

“Oliver. Who are you?”

“I am Nicolas Tyme. Nice to see that you are fully operational.”

“It’s good to see you too. Where are my parents?” I almost spilled out in shame on the spot.

“Your mum and pop? The were shot dead by the men who set your building on fire. I am truly sorrowful.”

“It’s okay. The couldn’t save me but you could, so it’s only right the weak should die.” I wasn’t sure if I was more perplexed by his statement or the fact he seemed to believe it.

“Who taught you that?”

“My older brother. He was in the gang. His name is Andre.” Oliver sounded so proud of his brother.

“Well, Oliver, Andre is quite wrong to think so.”

“Why?”

“Because those who are weaker than you deserve a chance to learn to become stronger, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” I pat Oliver’s ankle when the nurse came in.

“Goodbye, Mr. Tyme!”

“Just Tyme. Good evening, Oliver.” The nurse smiled.

“You’re a good relative, however you’re related to him,” she mumbled.

“Oh, I’m just a good friend of his.” I bowed slightly and walked out, leaving the nurse confused.

A few seven-sets later, Oliver was allowed out of his hospital room, but he didn’t have a place to go. James, my bloodlusting comrade, said I could keep Oliver at his place until a relative was found for Oliver to live with. One day, Oliver drew me a picture of him and me holding hands and walking through a forest.

“It’s me and you, going through the Amazon. You’d protect me from everything!” I could only laugh and put in on the ice closet. He tried to tickle me and we ended up in a tickling fight, of which I won.

Oliver was about fourteen when his brother became a legitimate, legal adult. He was coming back from Manin to pick up Oliver and I was bent on making this last cycle together the best we’d ever had. So I took him to all of this favourite places, treated him to all of his favourite restaurants, and made plenty of art pieces with him.

But then he found out what I was.

We’d been walking thought the park when Oliver stumbled and his hand slipped into my back. A bit sand poured out and Oliver backed away from me.

“Y-you’re made of…”

“Yes. Let’s go home so I can explain.” Oliver let his hormones take over.

“All these years and I didn’t know you weren’t human…”

“How could you call me inhuman?!” I gasped, “Haven’t I acted…”

“Acted, yes. Been, no.” I stumbled backwards.

“What does it take to be human?”

“I dunno… a conscience, memories…”

“So why can’t I be human? I’m simply melded with sand –“

“You’re not living.”

“Scientifically, no I’m not! But I’ve taught you to think deeper than that!”

“True, but how do I know that wasn’t all lies?” He had a valid point.

“Listen. I’m sorry, really. I didn’t tell you my secret, but can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

I was taken aghast, but I closed my gaping mouth and started walking away.

Startled by my response, he called out, “Wait, what?!” I didn’t reply. I was twenty yards away. “Tyme, no! Wait! You said you would stay with me forever!”

I turned and replied coldly, “That was when I was human.”

I kept going, leaving Oliver to find his way home. That was one of the toughest experiences I’d ever had. I sat on a swing in the sand playground, drawing designs in it with my mind. About five minutes had passed, and I decided to go back.

But he was gone.

I called for him, “Oliver! Where are you? I’m sorry I said those things to you!” No response but silence. I called his phone with no luck. Texted him too with no answer. I couldn’t live with him being dead and my last moment with him cruel. I felt similar to the lioness that had lost its cub to its predator. Was he by the carousel?

No.

By the slide?

No.

Water park?

No.

Car?

No.

Concessions?

Not even close. I flew back to James’ place, but nobody came or was there. I curled up in the fetal position by the door until James reappeared.

“Oh, Nicolas! I’ve been looking for you! Oliver’s brother took him to the aeroport. They reached their flight safely. Just thought I’d let you know.” James pat my shoulder and entered his home with me in tow. I arrived in my room and looked upon my bed. On the pillow was a piece of paper with six words on it.

You are the human I love.

On the back was the picture of Oliver and me in the Amazon.

I cried tears of sand.

As I completed my story, Charlotte cosied up to me even closer.

“Poor Nicolas. Did you ever see him again?”

“I dunno,” I replied, “but he seems pretty close, like I can feel it.”

The next morning, Charlotte and I were walking upon the sands of Viktor and Avril, both of who walked with us in their more humanoid form; two couples on the beach. Out of nowhere, three speedbikes flew out of the sand dunes, their riders screaming louder than their motors. Viktor and Avril cried out — not in pain, but in violent emotion. My feeling almost burst out as well. Viktor melded with the sand beneath our feet and followed them. Avril and I weren’t far behind. I wasn’t able to see or feel Andre land on the sand beside Charlotte, hold her mouth shut, and kidnap her. He was able, with help from Charlotte, to see the three of us sandpeople’s revenge upon his decoy riders. Viktor created a sandstorm, suffocating one rider. Avril jumped into a rider’s mouth and expanded, ripping their body apart. I poured myself into the last one’s pores and inched my way to their heart, so that they could feel me in their veins, ceasing their blood flow, breaking bones, and stopping their heart and lungs. I fled from their mouth and walked away, leaving him screaming without air to scream with until the brain overloaded with his pain and died.

Andre’s hand was bitten by Charlotte, forcing the former to snap away his hand, and allowing Charlotte to scream.

“Shut up, you—” Andre said many things to and about Charlotte declarable unfit for print, let alone thought.

<Go get her back, Tyme!> Viktor roared.

<Teach that kid a lesson, I demand of you to!>

<For love and victory and whatnot!> Avril and Viktor cheered.

I leapt into the air and flew towards the target: Andre. I knocked him over and picked up Charlotte, quickly tossing her gently to Viktor and Avril prior to returning to Andre, crushing his bike and his skull. Two more riders came and picked him up, both backup members of his gang. The whole episode was lathered in a blind fury and I don’t clearly remember it all. Next thing I knew, Charlotte and I were at home, in Seulport with Anne and Clayton, calming me down.

“What happened, Tyme?” Anne asked gingerly.

“He’s obviously attempting to not spill out… or worse.” Clayton broke in.

“He saved my life, I think. I dunno what Andre would’ve done to me.” Charlotte began to cry again.

“The whole thing was a ploy and I fell for it.” Everyone looked at me, probably thinking me eerie in the firelight of the fireplace, the grim glow sending my shadow awry. I continued speaking my revelation. “They came to see what would make me tick. Obviously, through my reaction to Andre taking Charlotte, if anything happens to her, I’ll do anything to avenge.”

“But why you?” Anne inquired.

“Because Andre knows I’m of sand. I think he’s a Dissolver.” Anne and Clayton gasped.

“A Dissolver?” Charlotte asked.

“A person paid to hunt and kill any victims of the Hourglass experiment. The scientists of that operation want each and every one of us gone for good so that no one knows we exist, and, if they remember us, only as myth. No one likes a mistake.”

“We aren’t mistakes; we were meant to be created!” Anne slammed her fist on the counter-top.

“No matter the intent; to them it’s the conclusion that matters.”

“If a doctor gives a patient medicine to fix a cough, but the patient dies anyway…”

“In their eyes, the doctor is at fault.” Anne sat down, knowing I was right.

“Is every one of us is in danger, then?” Anne asked.

“Not you two. If I remember correctly, I planned a vacation for you both this seven-set.”

“But Tyme…”

“No buts, Anne. You and Clayton leave next morning. Pack whatever you need and get to an aeroport.” Clayton pulled gently on Anne’s shoulder and helped her up.

“See you soon.” Clayton and Anne bowed, Anne looking rather dejected. As they left, Charlotte spoke.

“They are very loyal to you.”

“They were originally Lady Estelle’s servants. As I believe we are all equals here, they found my way of treatment quite refreshing.”

Charlotte smiled and we held each other’s hands. “Thank you for—” Charlotte was stopped by my finger upon her lips.

“Don’t mention it. I’m finally calmed down. Let’s simply sleep.” Charlotte agreed and put on her nightgown. I dispersed upon the gigantic sandbox I’d built for summer nights and Charlotte lay across it. The window was open, allowing for the warm breeze to cover us like a blanket.

“Goodnight, Charlotte.” I let an arm attached to a hand softly brush against Charlottes’ lovely skin before falling asleep.