Short Story - Hunt for the Retro Trigger
I wish that I’d never met her.
If I had never met her I wouldn’t be here now, standing in the thundering rain. I’d be at home watching one of the random sci-fi films on my ever growing streaming list. Instead I’m wet, freezing my butt off, standing on the edge of a cliff looking at the mocking waves below.
“She’s not coming” they jeer.
Of course I know the waves aren’t actually communicating, but right now giving the ocean a personality is the only thing stopping me from turning around and forgetting all of this ever happened. That, and the photo I’m clutching in my pocket. Her photo.
How long do I wait?
I decided to give her the same amount of time that she gave me when we met.
One ordinary day in my ordinary city I found myself with an hour to kill. Call me strange, but looking at books is always my preferred way to slay it. Entering the grand old building, the sudden waft of decaying paper brought a smile to my face. The vast rows of shelves housing the knowledge of the ages. The empty chairs in the middle of the large hall. The silence was as close to euphoric for me as you can get in a public place without getting in trouble.
The dull roar of a heater, which no longer held up its end of the bargain, was the only evidence that modern technology existed in the room.
A rather large, suited man sat at the welcome desk, looking up purely to acknowledge my existence then returning his gaze to the book in hand. Smiling, I strolled into the main room. Passing the chairs I wandered into the stacks — hundreds of tomes resting upon the rows and rows of bookshelves greeted me. Looking at this maze I was reminded of the first time I had come to the library. As a first year university student, I had become lost and couldn’t find the exit. Not actually lost. More disorientated; nobody gets lost in a library.
I began to walk the isles, not looking for anything in particular but waiting for something to catch my eye.
Faded words on cracked leather spines begged me to grab them. To open and read the tales they had to share. Looking on in hope as I walked towards them. Disappointed as I passed them by. Of course I speak metaphorically, books do not have eyes.
However, a gap between two of them did.
It wasn’t an illustration or a figment of my imagination. A human eye looked back at me from the next row over. Someone was spying on me (or possibly checking me out?). I bent down and looked at it. Long lashes blinked as I stared into the ice blue colour of their iris. “Hello?” I said (Not the most original thing to say I know but being in a library I felt the need to stick with the classics).
“Hi,” replied a confident female voice. I was taken aback. Why was there a female watching (checking me out?) me from the aisle over? “Are you spying on me?” I asked. Better to get that question out of the way first with hope it would elicit a laugh from my mysterious stalker. My ego flexed as a lovely chuckle came from the other side.
“Only a little bit. But it’s for a very good reason I assure you.”
“And what reason is that?” I grinned. This female was intriguing me more than the dying volumes of text surrounding us.
“Meet me out front and I’ll tell you,” she replied. And with that the eye was gone. I heard footsteps quickly walk away. “How will I know who you are?” I called after her. There was no reply. Just as mysteriously as she had appeared, she was gone.
Wondering if what had just happened was a hallucination bought on by ancient chemicals being freed from the ancient bindings of the degraded leather book covers, I made my way toward the exit. This time I did not have any problem finding it.
I began looking for her the moment I stepped out the doors. However, in my rush to confirm this perplexing lady was real I forgot a very simple fact — there are more than just two people living in this city. Adults, children, and their pets all walked up and down the footpath going about their lives. Half a dozen females alone stood near the library entrance.
A few were looking around anxiously for friends while others played with their phones in an attempt to look like they weren’t feeling incredibly self conscious and exposed being by themselves. I had no idea what to do. I had no idea who the woman in the library was. I didn’t know what she looked like, how tall she was or what she was wearing. All I had to go on was a single brilliant blue eye.
I’ve never been one to take chances. I play it safe — collect data and make an informed decision based on research and discoveries. Today would be no different. I would take my time to survey the situation. To think about how much time had elapsed between her leaving the building and me exiting. I would take into account the weather conditions. As it was a sunny but cold day the probability of her choosing to stand in the open was high. That gave me better statistics to work … and then I thought ‘bugger it’.
I walked up to a girl who was standing around, looking as if she were waiting for someone. Yes, I do admit that she was probably the prettiest one that I could see at the time but I was not thinking that specifically. I was in unfamiliar territory. I had no facts to back me up. I was naked (not actually naked).
‘Hello?” I asked, cautiously.
“Um, hi,” replied the girl. I tried to look her in the eye to see if it was the one which had looked back at me before. I must have stared too intently as she quickly became uneasy and asked me to leave her alone in a way that was not befitting of her beauty. Luckily her eyes were brown.
As the good looking girl walked away a voice came from behind me. One that I knew would be accompanied by an eye of the iciest blue I had ever seen. “Very smooth, Mr Preston,” she said as I turned to face her. She was not what I expected.
Shorter than me, this girl wore a dress which looked like it came from the 1950s with leather boots from today. Her hair was bright pink and stood up in a faux Mohawk. Her face was like that of a porcelain doll — pale and fragile — which made her bright blue eyes stand out all the more.
“How did you know my last name?” I asked. “Who are you?”
‘That’s not important,” she replied as she looked at her watch, anxiously.
She handed me a picture. “Do you know where this is?” she asked me hurriedly. I took the picture from her hands and studied it. It was a photo of the ocean taken from a cliff face. “I don’t know. I think … maybe”.
“Three weeks. In three weeks be where this picture is. I have to go.” And with that I once again heard the hurrying footsteps. Looking up from the picture I could see she was already a few lengths ahead of me. However this time I was going to follow her. “Wait,” I cried. “I don’t even know your name”.
“Julia” she yelled back. I continued the chase. I needed answers now, not in three weeks.
Who was she? How did she know my last name and why did she give me this picture? So focused on the pursuit I did not notice the frame of a rather large suited man from the library. I crashed into him. Hard.
I fell to the ground — he did not even seem to notice the impact. “Are you ok, kid?” he asked as I picked myself up off the ground.
“Yeah,” I replied as I looked around for Julia. I had lost her.
“Perfect.”
It took me a few weeks to find the exact location of her picture. It was in a book near where we first spoke. Seems it wasn’t such a random encounter after all. So here I stand, a crumpled photo in my hand and listening to the waves crash against the rather pointy rocks far below me. That’s probably why I didn’t hear the footsteps coming up from behind me.
“David Preston,” a voice boomed from behind. I turned quickly to see a man in a suit. The man from the library. The man into whom I had bumped when chasing Julia.
“What’s going on here?”
“We are glad you made it,” the suited man said as he took a step closer.
“Now hang on just a minute,” I start, suddenly feeling very threatened in between this large individual and the pointy rocks far below. “I have no idea why you are here or what is going on. I just came because I was told to. A girl called Julia wants me here.”
“I know,” he said as he took yet another step closer to me. “She sent me here to greet you.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry Mr Preston,” the suited man calmly said as he placed his hands on my shoulders. “Just let your body go limp.” And with that the suited man shoved me off the cliff.
It’s a weird feeling knowing that you are about to die. People talk about seeing their whole life flash before their eyes. How the major moments are played out in your mind for you to relive. The girl you first loved. The puppy who meant the world to you. All I could think about was how unfair this was and that I think I have peed my pants.
There was nothing left to do. I was falling to my death. I closed my eyes and waited for the rocks to shatter my body like a toothpick snapping in your mouth.
*THUD*
Ouch.
A sharp pain in my right elbow confused me. Shouldn’t there be more pain? Shouldn’t I have been in a million pieces right now? Then I feel a floor under me; smooth and not in the least bit jagged or rocky. I think I am still alive, I think to myself. Either that or the afterlife smells like a garage — a garage where tacos were the primary food source. Opening my eyes confirmed that I have not fallen to my doom, but rather into some kind of metal room. Computer monitors lined the walls. Flashing lights highlighted symbols that I have not seen outside of an episode of Doctor Who.
“Sorry for the dramatics,” a female says from my right. Even though I had no idea where I was, I knew exactly whose voice it belonged to.
Julia stepped into my line of vision, offering me her hand. I glared back at her, eventually deciding that I could get up without her help. I had no idea what was going on or why moments ago I had been pushed to my death only to turn up here — wherever ‘here’ is. All I knew was that she is responsible for it somehow.
“What. The. Hell.”
“I know you’re upset, but I only did what needed to be done to ensure you were ready,” Julia told me calmly. She did not seem surprised at my reaction.
“Ready? Ready for being pushed off a cliff? Ready to buy a new pair of pants? Ready for being … wherever the hell here is. Ready for what?”
“Ready,” continued Julia, “to save all of reality.”
She walked over to a control desk under the large screen. Pressing a few buttons, the picture faded to show the vast sea that I was staring at not ten minutes ago. “Are we — are we in a spaceship?” I ask foolishly, not actually believing those words were leaving my mouth.
“Strap yourself in David,” said Julia as she continued to tap at buttons, not looking away from the large screen for an instant. “You’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Awestruck I settled myself in a chair next to her. Two words on the dash of the ‘ship’ caught my eye.
“What’s ‘Retro Trigger’?” I ask.
Jasmine smiled as she threw a lever. “That’s what you are about to find out.”
EPILOGUE
Saturday (I think).
And here I am. I don’t know how many days — or months — I’ve been out here. That’s the problem travelling through countless alternate realities; too many calendars. But I’m almost home.
I’m still not sure if I’m pleased with that.
…
I should proof-read this. Go back over the stories. Make sure I haven’t left anything out; given credit to those brave enough to help us on our way. Correct the obvious speeling errors.
Nah.
But what to do now? Do I sell my story? Would anyone believe it if I did? Could the tale of a simple guy standing on top of a cliff getting shoved (literally) into an adventure through the multiverse be seen as anything but fiction?
Closing my journal I think of all that has happened. Of the adventures. Of Large Phil and his collection of suits. And of Julia. Always Julia. Of all that we both found and lost. Of all that she has lost. I am not sure if it is this new life of excitement I am sad to be leaving, or that she will be leaving mine.
Rising from my chair I take in the surroundings of my makeshift room. Mementos scattered along the shelving. I say mementos, but they are more than that. They are trophies. Rewards for what I have done. The black scarf of Cratochek. The tribal headdress of the proud people of Hinderndan. That level ten Sudoku puzzle I finally beat. All of them hold memories for me. All of them now a part of me.
At that moment my door slides open. A head of brown re-growth devouring a once pink Mohawk stands before me. “David”, she speaks excitedly. “We’ve found her!”
“Wha…? No! Does that mean…?”
“Yup,” Julia replied. Her bright smile already lifting the heavy feeling from my chest. “You’re stuck with me for a bit longer.”
I walk towards her as Julia turns from my cramped quarters.
“Now, let’s get her back,” she yells with joy as she runs down the small corridor to the control room.
I take my seat next to Julia. The vastness of space spreads out before me. We thought we had lost her, but she is within our sights again. We are back on the trail of the Retro Trigger.
