The Veil

Chapter 1 Trafalgar Square

The smell of smog itches her nose, stale coffee lingers on her lips, and the stone bench is solid, real. Trafalgar Square is buzzing with tourists, here in the frenzy of London; Amelia almost believes she is sane. As a ghost of a woman sits down next to Amelia, the truth of her situation dawns. Sometimes she wonders why she sees the things she sees, hears the things she hears.

Even as a small child, her imaginary friends were more real to her than anyone in the real world. She clung to the imaginary world, it was her life preserver and she was lost in the sea of her own mind. She was ten when she decided on a name for the space between her worlds; the veil. Amelia didn’t know why she had chosen this name, but it felt right.

Amelia's life is predicated on the ever-presence of the veil. Sitting on a stone bench floating between two worlds, one of her own making, she longs to be like the tourist on vacation, or the girl sipping coffee by the fountain. She wonders if she can create whole worlds, why she can’t create one place where she is a happy-go-lucky girl without a care in the world.

Pulling the letter from her purse, the reason she came to the square today, she had to make a decision. She wants to be surrounded by people, real people; but even here, ghosts walk around her, ghosts of her other worlds. She concentrates on the smell of rain and smog, trying to reaffirm reality. Amelia unfolds the letter for what seems a thousand times since she received it two days ago. The letter still did not sit well.

Dear Ms. Courant

I concur with the previous diagnoses of early-onset schizophrenia with underlying depression and dissociative tendencies. My recommendation is that you voluntarily commit yourself to a 90-day evaluation. This will give us time to stabilize your medication and evaluate you for involvement in an experimental study and treatment program.

Sincerely,

Dr. White

The White Institute

Looking up from the letter, she watches two worlds overlapping and lets her mind drift as she considers the letter. Amelia notices a beautiful blue Heron land in the fountain. She watches people mill about. None of them notice the beautiful otherworldly bird. Amelia is mesmerized by the bird letting thoughts of committing herself slip away, and her mind drifts to where the bird really belongs. The veil washes over her, like a foggy dream. She is sitting on the bank of a swamp. Trafalgar Square is now the ghost world. She watches as the bird plucks a fish from the water and swallows it whole; then, it lifts off to unknown lands. She sits savoring the smell of salt and magnolia that blankets the scent of smog and rain. She wonders which is real, the heron and the swamp, or the stone and granite of the square.

The swamp seems the better of the two worlds; maybe it is a place she can get lost; a place to live a life of no concerns. As she leans back on the grass, bird song fills the air, she relaxes. It’s peaceful here, how she longs for this to be the real world. Instead of the noise of cars, the bustle of people, and the smell of petrol in London. She longs for magnolias and moss, spring breezes rolling in from a far-off ocean. In that second of longing, this is her reality. She can pick a flower, breathe it in, sip the cool water from the swamp, feel the cool breeze on her skin; she is at peace in this fairy-tale land of her own making. Then it dawns on her, fairy tales never end well for the witch.

***

Joshua watched Amelia below, from the safety of a posh high-rise suite, telephoto binoculars making it seem like he could brush strands of honey-blond hair from her face. Setting down the binoculars, he ponders the last three months. This assignment was supposed to be a break for him, get him back to the civilized world, away from worries of death, violence, and intrigue.

Sitting back in the silk brocade chair, Trafalgar’s square seems far away, his latest mission has taken an unexpected turn. He thought it was a standard surveillance assignment. But as months stretched on, he realized that it wasn’t and, what was worse, he felt drawn to the woman he had been assigned to watch. At first, he had been confused about why anyone would assign someone like him to watch her, but he soon realized Amelia was anything but ordinary. She was an amazing artist whose paintings were otherworldly. However, it was her talent for vanishing and the random appearance of apparitions that had his mind spinning. Frustration furrows his brow as he realizes that his vacation job was not looking like such a vacation. He took consolation in the fact that his employer apparently wanted her alive. For now.

Over the last month, he had seen but not caught these talents on camera, but today he had a good feeling. He was recording her from a greater distance than normal, which he hoped would allow him to catch her vanish or catch her talking to one of her ghosts. Joshua had noticed that over the last week her vanishing acts had become more frequent and she was gone for longer periods of time. Normally, she would vanish fully for 10 to 15 minutes at a time. But yesterday she had been gone for almost an hour.

Scanning the Square, Joshua noticed the two other teams watching Amelia. He hoped that the people on the ground were just spotters. He was sure they would never catch her vanish if they encroached too much on her space. She seemed to know when she was being watched. He had spoken with his boss last week about his plan to back off physically to see what he could catch. The conversation hadn’t gone well. But he had been allowed to proceed, with the warning not to lose her that the girl’s safety was a matter of National Security.

Below, the square was filled with people milling about, tourists snapping pictures of the opulent fountains, stone lions, and a purple rooster; a group of men wandered about trying to take people's pictures for the change in their pockets. Through the binoculars, he spots Amelia-she is a waif, with saucer-sized violet eyes, long honey-blond hair that falls around her shoulders; the spring breeze picks up apiece blowing it into her face but she is not fazed, she stares like a lost soul, looking past the world before her. From her perch, she seems to be enjoying whatever world she is viewing. Even he can tell, it isn’t the one she currently inhabits.

At first, he thought he was going crazy. There was no way anyone could vanish like Houdini. As always, he let his curiosity get the best of him. His research led him to a group of physicists, specializing in quantum mechanics. They theorized about the idea of multiple worlds, that atoms could shift between these worlds. Some in this group believe that people could also shift between these multiple worlds. Joshua believes his employer and others think Amelia is capable of this, or a near approximation of it.

From his hotel vantage point, he watches the target vanish in the blink of an eye. Cursing under his breath. Yes, she did it... again.

He counts the seconds, then minutes, unconsciously holding his breath, Amelia doesn’t return. Joshua looks at the video footage, hoping this time he caught her vanishing act. Smiling, he watches as the girl vanishes, and for a brief second, a blue Heron lands in the middle of Trafalgar Square. He barely believes it even as he watches the footage with his own eyes. His employer is never going to believe that he caught this on camera.

Leaving the camera in place, he picks up his cell and dials the only number on the phone. It seems to take forever for the line to pick up; he wonders if they already know she is gone.

I got it, Sir.

The phone line seemed dead at first.

Are you sure she just didn’t move?

Yes, sir. I’m sure. I caught it on video this time. She was here and then just gone. Joshua paused, wondering if he should tell him about the bird.

Before he could mention the animal, the man at the other end of the line abruptly cut him off.

Go to her apartment to maintain surveillance. We can only hope she’ll show back up.

Yes, Sir. Joshua responds in rote.

What he really wanted to ask is: Do you know how she does this; or even, what is your real interest in Amelia. But the line is dead.

Joshua walks over to his desk, taking a seat in front of his bank of monitors: Amelia's home, work, family, and friends are spread out in front of him. The network of cameras he installed picked up every detail of her life. Over the last three months, he has watched her, studied her life, and one thing was certain, the one place he really needed a camera was the one place he did not have one; The White Institute.

She started going to the White Institute, around the time he was assigned to watch over her. Soon after, she started exhibiting erratic behavior, missing appointments, losing track of time, and her little vanishing acts. Now, these idiocracies have increased in frequency to the point they are interfering with her life. The amount of time she is gone has steadily increased. Today is the longest disappearance. Looking at the clock, she was gone an hour and thirty minutes and still counting.

Sighing in frustration, he grabs his bag, goes to the safe taps in the combination, and removes his 9mm handgun, and three 15 round clips, sliding one into the gun, he pulls back the slide, chambering a round. He has a bad feeling this is going to get bloody fast. Years in concert taught him to trust that gut feeling. Slipping his jacket on, he knows he needs to find Amelia fast; not only for her own safety but for his as well. Looking back at the camera, he makes sure it is uploading all the footage to his cloud.

He exits the hotel. He is happy about the cool dampness of London in spring. He hurries across the square to the Tube station. He has a feeling she will turn up at her apartment and he wants to be there, just in case one of the other teams decides today is the day.

As he steps onto the station’s platform, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Surprised, he taps his Bluetooth headset and he answers with his normal greeting; Speak.

No hello to your old friend?

Looking around the station in bewilderment. Trying to find her or one of her cronies. Joshua stammers the first thing that comes to mind.

You’re dead.

He could almost hear her scoff.

I was almost dead, but not yet. I have an assignment for you.

Sorry, I don’t think so. The last time I took one of your assignments, I almost ended up dead, myself. Also, I’m currently under contract.

Well, yes, there’s that, but why do you think I am calling you Joshua? I can have any Ex CIA agent I want on this, but I need you. It’s because of your current contract. I only hope you are still the Boy Scout you were back then. Even if you are not, self-preservation may make you want to listen.

The growing trepidation about this current contract now seemed confirmed, though he still is not ready to commit to this woman or the CIA, again.

Well, I’m listening. But don’t expect me to share any information.

That is fine for now. The woman you are watching Amelia Courant. She is of interest to a number of governments and other organizations. I’m sure you’ve figured out that she is a special girl by now. She needs to be protected. And you are not working for who you think. The people you’re working for mean her harm. More than that, their interest in her is a National Security Risk to the United States. It’s time to come back into the fold. We can kiss and make up later; now your country needs to come first.

As he listens, he wonders how Amelia is a threat to so many nations. What exactly is it that she could do? Or better, what do they think she can do? Even his current employer said she is a risk to United Kingdom National Security.

What makes you think my life is in danger?

Well, you have seen what she can do for one. Then there is the fact that you actually caught her act on video. Finally, you ask too many questions. You always have.

I just don’t like to be kept in the dark. Something you were always good at. Evidently, so is my current employer. So I guess it is time to shine a light on this.

Boy Scout, I’m not sure you want to do that. Just find the girl and contact me, I’ll extract her and you.

Let me think about it. I’ll contact you within the next 24 hours,

The line went dead. Well, things certainly are getting more interesting than he ever wanted. So much for slowing down. As he boards the Piccadilly line, he wonders: who is Amelia; and why is he drawn to her? Stepping off the train, he spots a tail.

Well, guess she was telling the truth. Still, he isn’t sure he wants to turn Amelia over to her either. God knows what that woman would do to her.