Chapter 1
1710 Words
Chapter 1
December 1966. New York.
Ciaran frowned at the bustling streets and the ocean of people rushing about their business and preparing for the festive season.
On Earth and in the multiverse, the atmosphere and spirit of this significant event was the same, although people might refer to the event by different names, depending on their culture and beliefs.
It didn’t matter how long Ciaran and Madeline had been away from Earth—human traditions were still ingrained in them. And for both, Christmas was a time to celebrate.
Their family, their lives, and the entire meaning of their existence now resided in Eudaiz, a universe far away from Earth. And things were different in Eudaiz.
Different time.
Different space.
Different species.
But Ciaran realized now that even the holiday season meant different things.
For him, it meant he’d finish up the matter in this king's court and postpone his meeting with the king of another universe so he could go home early.
For Madeline, it encompassed the whole package of everything that carried the meaning of the event. That included a real pine tree from Earth, presents, wrapping gifts, children's wish lists, a Christmas menu, and many other items he had never heard of.
But he never thought Madeline's preparations were so overwhelming that they might distract her and cause her to make a critical error.
He had left a message for her in the morning about some possible unstable weather that day and asked her to avoid traveling if she could help it. He was annoyed when she dispatched a capsule, their mini private spaceship, to pick up a parcel instead of sending staff to do it.
By the time he received a report confirming the definite occurrence of the crossworld storm, Madeline was already well en route. She was careful enough not to get too close to the path of the oblivion wormhole. But she hadn't received the storm report and didn’t see its trajectory. As soon as Ciaran knew the communication system of her spaceship was down, he dispatched his own private capsule.
He came for her.
He was fast.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
The storm hit Madeline’s capsule. She discharged an emergency jet, which should have given her some protection. But the jet exploded, and she was thrown outside. Ciaran had only enough time to shoot a tracking device at her shoulder from a distance before she vanished into the eye of the storm.
She was lost, but alive. She was somewhere in the multiverse, waiting for him to bring her home. That was the only consequence of the event that Ciaran would accept.
And the tracking device confirmed his prediction.
It found live signals and had guided him here—back to Earth, New York, in the year 1966.
He hadn’t been born in 1966. But the advantage of traveling to the past was that he could use Eudaizian technology and data access to gain some advantage.
Ciaran hid his capsule in a wing of the dimensional gateway and stepped outside the portal into the freezing air of a New York winter.
Ordinary humans couldn’t see the portal, let alone his crossing the gateway to the multiverse. He glanced at a nearby landmark and made a mental note of where he'd parked. Then he headed up the main street.
The only piece of technology he had on him right now was his wrist unit. The device was small, but it was powerful enough to give him what he needed to operate outside Eudaiz.
The tracker suggested that Madeline was with the Taylors, an ordinary human family who had never interacted with supernaturals before.
Ciaran used the databank in his wrist unit to search for relevant background information about the family and then simulated a set of credentials for himself so he had a logical reason for approaching them. He then converted multiversal currency into USD and grabbed some essential items of clothing and located a car. In no time, he was ready to approach the Taylors.
As he approached the imposing mansion at the top of a hill, Ciaran glanced again at his supposed credentials on the wrist unit to memorize the basic information.
He might be a king in Eudaiz, but in New York in 1966, he was nobody. He needed to be extra careful. He hadn’t informed anyone that he had left. That meant he had no assistance, and if anything went wrong, the consequences could be disastrous.
But he didn’t plan to be away for long. He’d bring Madeline home before anyone even knew about what happened.
Ciaran rang the doorbell.
after a few moments, the heavy oak door opened.
In front of him stood Madeline with her usual gracious smile. Her gorgeous brown eyes twinkled with joy. Her long brunette hair, curving around her shoulders, swung lightly with her movements.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Madeline!”
She smiled. “Oh no, I’m Maggie, her twin sister. But don’t worry. Even our parents can’t tell us apart.”
“I apologize.” Ciaran could tell the difference. Maggie didn’t have the dimple on her left cheek like Madeline, if his Madeline looked the same in this reality.
“And you are?”
“I’m Ciaran—”
“Ah, Mr. Leblanc. You’re the private investigator my father’s expecting.”
“Right … sure. I mean, yes, he’s expecting me.”
“Come on in.”
“I just recalled I have another piece of information your father might find useful. It’s in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Ciaran rushed back around the corner and activated the databank in his wrist unit to dig a bit deeper into the business and the role he planned to play. Then, confident he had enough information to proceed with his cover, he headed back to the Taylors' mansion.
When he returned, Ciaran was greeted by Brandon Taylor’s secretary.
The Taylors operated a large antique trading business. Ciaran had had some experience with this type of dealing before, so he didn't think it would be difficult to have an intelligent conversation with them.
Behind a tall, heavy wooden door was Brandon’s office. The furniture and the decor had been designed to make an obvious statement about the family's wealth. Ciaran reminded himself that he was a private investigator, working for clients to make a living.
“Ciaran Leblanc,” Brandon motioned Ciaran to a chair with a gesture and a smile. “You’re new to the Elite Investigator group, I assume.”
“Yes, Mr. Taylor. I’m new to the group but not to the business.”
“Oh? Where did you work before?”
“I ran an agency in London. We’re expanding to New York. I thought it would be wise to partner with an established agency here rather than testing the market using our own resources.” Ciaran cursed under his breath. He was a businessman of the highest caliber, and old habits die hard—he couldn’t act like just another private investigator working for money.
“That’s great to know. I like diversity.”
Ciaran smiled, thinking it might be the best and safest reaction for now.
“So, Ciaran—may I call you Ciaran?”
“Please do.”
“This is the usual deal I have with the Elite group—I want this to be discreet.”
“Of course.”
“Last month, the piece of precious merchandise you found for us was fake.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, no, it’s not your fault. You based your find on the specs I gave you. So that’s my fault. I didn’t even know it was fake until last week. But the problem is, since then, another piece has been stolen, and that’s why you’re here.”
Ciaran nodded. “So you want to trace your stolen item and find out who swapped the fake merchandise last time.”
Brandon leaned back in his chair and took a slow drag on his cigar, watching the smoke curl lazily toward the ceiling. “How do you know it was swapped?”
“Not only was it swapped, but it would also have to be an inside job. You told me you gave Elite the merchandise specs. With your experience, I think you could tell if the merchandise was fake. And considering the caliber of your business, I know security is your top priority. So the swapping of items valuable enough to warrant your attention could only be done from the inside.”
Brandon's eyes rested on Ciaran for several seconds. It was a long stare, but when it came to staring games, Ciaran usually won. Now it was Ciaran’s turn to lean back in his chair.
“Are there other issues you'd like to discuss, Mr. Taylor?”
Brandon nodded. “How close is your partnership with Elite?”
“Nothing’s permanent. Do you suspect them?”
Brandon shrugged. “There are only three people who have direct access to the merchandise—Madeline, Ethan, and Jeremy.”
“I’m sorry, but Elite didn’t give me a detailed brief about the executive roles within your company.”
“They wouldn’t know. We don’t publicize that information. That’s why they assumed any of the three executives could organize the swap of the merchandise. But that's impossible because we’re family. Why would we steal from ourselves?”
“Family?”
“Yes. I’m sure you know Madeline is my daughter.”
“Of course.”
“Ethan’s my son-in-law. I mean, if the accident hadn't happened, he would have been my son-in-law by now. And Jeremy is Ethan’s brother. But now that Madeline’s back, they’ll get married soon. So tell me, why would we steal from ourselves?”
“It’s really hard to tell, Mr. Taylor.”
“You can call me Brandon.”
“So Madeline was in an accident and has just recovered?”
“Yes, she was in a coma for two weeks. She just came back to us last week, thank God!”
“May I ask the nature of the accident?”
“It was a car accident. Ethan and Madeline went to a theater, and it happened on their way back.”
“When was the previous merchandise stolen?”
“The week before the accident.”
“You said Madeline came out of the coma last week. When was the most recent theft?”
“Last week. You don’t—”
“No, of course I don’t suspect Madeline. She’s your daughter. But regarding the soon-to-be in-laws, I'm not so sure.”
“Would you consider investigating this for me independently from Elite, Ciaran?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Thank you. Our remunerations are very generous. I can sign an exclusive agreement with you, guaranteeing your stream of work. I can even pay retaining fees…”
“Let me take this one case and see if we're a good fit first.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll need to talk to Madeline. And you may have to give me some kind of cover other than that of an investigator. Otherwise, I won't be able to get Ethan and Jeremy to talk.”
“How about an evaluator from the bank? I’ll get you the paperwork and relevant information.”
“That’s perfect.”
Ciaran stood. “I’d like to meet with Madeline now. Can you please let her know to expect me?”
- Writer
