THE CURATOR:
Lost Universe
Prologue
For a billion years, it spun alone in the vast emptiness of space. No planets or moons to call its own. The dwarf star's nearest neighbour was over a million light-years away. Completely unremarkable in any sense of the word, the glowing ball of superheated gas continued its perpetual journey toward extinction without reservation.
Every millennia or so a comet or asteroid would pass it by but so far none of these interstellar visitors had flown close enough so as to fall into its orbit and provide it with some much needed company.
The Star continued to spin gently on its own axis as complex chemical reactions on its surface created stunning arcs of flame that reached out into the abyss. Unremarkable as it was the light produced by this entity could still be seen all across the galaxy but for now no one was watching.
The universe was a tumultuous place, always in a state of flux, continually changing and evolving into something new. The arrow of time continued to press forward with not one moment being the same as the next. A billionth of a second could spell the end of a star or the beginning of a new one and this moment was no different.
In silence they appeared. Four pyramidal structures as black as the night itself, hanging ominously at equidistant points around the star, it was as if they had just appeared by magic. No fuss, no commotion, one second there was nothing but dead space and the next they were there. Each structure was more than five hundred kilometres in height and two hundred Kilometres at their base.
Although dwarfed by the size of the star, they still radiated an ominous presence. In sombre silence, they manoeuvred into a synchronous orbit around the gaseous giant. With no visible sign of propulsion, the four obsidian black structures began to slowly circle their new companion like hungry predators. With each new rotation, their velocity increased exponentially until they were a mere blurred black streak around the equator of the star. As their speed continued to increase, the structures began to tilt their enormous bases inward toward the dwarf star. Faster and faster, they spun like the blades of a celestial propeller. In the midst of the chaos the stars surface began to heave and pulse from the gravitational forces exerted by the spinning structures. Finally, building to a deadly crescendo the star lashed out angrily at its new companions. Tendrils of furious energy unfurled across the expanse of space and struck each of the objects flush at the centre of their squared bases. Energy of this magnitude would normally destroy anything in its path but not today.
The arcs of flaming plasma being launched from the surface of the star were being trapped by the structures. Like four huge capacitors they drew in all the radiant energy hurled at them. The star persistently fought on but in the matter of only a few hours the four mysterious objects had managed to tear away every ounce of energy the star had possessed. In their wake, they left nothing more than a few base elements floating helplessly in the void of the infinite cosmos.
With their task seemingly complete, the four black pyramidal structures effortlessly fell into a squared formation and simply vanished back into the stars. Just as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone.
CHAPTER 1
London was usually busy but Monday mornings tended to be busier than most. With all of the bleary-eyed commuters returning to work after their weekends away it was always an opportune time for Sarah May Turner to make some extra cash. Having no family to speak of meant she had spent quite some time sleeping rough on the streets. Like countless others in her situation she had somehow fallen into the cracks of government bureaucracy after her parents had died. It had been two years now since she had lost them, for the first year after their passing she had been pushed from pillar to post moving from one institution to the next. Being fifteen at the time she was told in no uncertain terms by social services that she was not likely to be adopted. It turned out prospective parents preferred babies or toddlers, Why wouldn't they? The children came with less emotional baggage and the parents were more likely to imprint favourably on the youngsters. Sarah was not bitter though, she completely understood their reasoning. What she did not understand was the institutions she had been sent too. Grotty, dirty places where she had been left to fend for herself; Sure they had had staff working there that were meant to be supervising and looking after the children in their charge but more often than not it was just a case of too many children and not enough resources. She had been sent to three "Child care homes" in the space of a year and each was progressively worse than the one before.
After finally reaching the end of her tether, Sarah simply walked out the door one day and vanished into the city never to return. She did not know if social services had tried searching for her and if she was honest, she did not particularly care. They had hundreds of children to deal with and one less probably did them a favour. Still, running away had left Sarah with a whole new set of problems and she quickly realised that she would have to learn to rely on herself more or risk starving on the streets. At first she had resorted to begging to survive. She did this by sitting near cashpoints at busy train stations, but she found that people there were always in a rush and did not really pay attention to the homeless. She had then tried cashpoints out on the streets but that had not worked out because she was exposed to the elements and the dangers of the criminal elements on the streets. Finally, starving, alone and cold Sarah decided to take matters into her own hands. Over the next few months, Sarah taught herself to steal. At first she would only take items that were left lying around. Bags or coats usually, placed on the floor or behind chairs whilst her unwitting victim was either talking to someone or looking at something. She would slip in behind them and casually walk away with the goods. She recalled the first few times she had stolen something and how her heart had been thudding in her chest and the rush she had felt when she realised she had gotten away with it. In time though the excitement dwindled and the returns lessened, at this point she graduated to pick pocketing. This was a far more dangerous endeavour but the rewards where more fruitful then just taking the odd bag or coat. Often when stealing she would simply end up with nothing more than a few items of clothing or a mobile phone which meant she would need to find some way of selling those goods, which in turn meant taking time out to find the right people. Sarah hated having to deal with shady underworld characters like those who handled stolen goods because you could never really trust them, most were just addicts looking for their next fix and were just as likely to try to rob you, as they were to give you cash for your items. Stealing wallets from people was a different proposition; it gave Sarah a ready source of cash and meant she did not have to deal with the more dangerous elements of street life.
Unlike a lot of thieves in big cities Sarah had created a code of conduct when it came to stealing from people. She had told herself that she would never steal from the elderly or children and her marks were almost always exclusively adults between the ages of eighteen and fifty; even then she would only specifically target those who looked like they could afford it. As dubious as that sounded, Sarah felt as though this moral code is what separated her from the common street thieves. With countless hours to hone her skills Sarah became quite good quite quickly.
Rounding a corner on her left Sarah found herself at the end of a busy footpath with hundreds of Monday morning commuters heading in her direction. With cold rain drizzling steadily down and a chilled breeze at her back, the young thief quickly scanned the oncoming crowd. Efficiently her eyes moved from person to person as she weaved her way through the forest of black umbrella covered pedestrians. She was searching for just the right target. Someone in a hurry who didn't have an umbrella and wanted to get out of the rain, as her brain continued to calculate the possibilities she found what she was looking for; A tall broad shouldered man with immaculately quaffed hair powering through the crowd with no regard for his fellow commuters. His navy blue pinstriped suit had dark patches around the shoulders where the rain had dampened it. His chequered blue shirt and baby pink tie where already a few shades darker because of the icy cold drips striking him and from his expression he was definitely late for something. Sarah dodged passed an older white haired woman and slid into a path that would meet his. From his overall look he may have been a stock broker type which was good because they usually weren't the nicest of people and carried around a fair bit of paper money.
He continued to power towards her, every so often bumping or nudging people as he overtook them. Not once did he even offer an apology to anyone. It was as though the pavement belonged to him and everyone else was just a casual annoyance. This made Sarah feel much better about targeting him. There were only a few people between them now. Sarah angled herself so that her right shoulder was directly opposite his right shoulder. From his gate she could tell he was right handed which meant his wallet should be in his right back pocket. Only two people now, this was it she thought. Just as the last person between them passed her by she made a quarter step right. As expected he clipped her shoulder as he strode past. Using the motion of the collision Sarah deftly swung her left shoulder round and in one liquid smooth motion with her left hand pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. "Sorry" she said as she righted herself and mingled back into the crowd. Sarah used her peripheral vision to watch if there was any reaction from her victim. For a second he did look back for the briefest of glances, her heart jumped a beat. Had she been rumbled? No, he was just checking out her rear. Sarah had purposely worn a tight Lycra running outfit that made the most of her figure, it always served to provide ample distraction for men she targeted. Idiots she thought as the mark vanished. Sarah didn't like relying on her looks and feminine whiles but sometimes it was a necessary evil. A lot of the others in her position didn't really seem to care how they were perceived when they went out to steal but Sarah had realised that if you went out looking destitute people would give you a wide birth and be suspicious of you. Whereas if you looked clean and respectable people noticed you less, keeping clean living on the streets was a difficult proposition in and of itself. Some nights Sarah would try to find a place in one of the many homeless shelters dotted around London but that usually meant lining up for hours on end with no actual guarantee that you would get a bed for the night. When she did manage to get a space she always made sure that she could take a shower and clean up. Thankfully, nowadays Sarah was spending less and less time at the shelters because she had picked up a new trick that gave her access to a clean warm environment that was always safe.
With London being a city that operated twenty-four hours a day all year around people had to work odd hours to make a living. This meant that businesses that used to function on normal working hours had to change their practices to accommodate for the demand. Across the city, a fad for twenty–four hour a day Gyms had become a lifesaver for Sarah. These establishments allowed her to shower and clean her clothes on an almost daily basis. The process itself was fairly simple; late nights were quieter periods for the gyms and they would be minimally staffed if staffed at all. Sarah would arrive at an earlier period in the day and wait by the entrances pretending to be on the phone or looking for something, until a member arrived, after which she would simply make note of their access code and tailgate them in. Sarah would then come back later and use their pin to gain entry herself. The truly upper end gyms had everything she needed; shower, towels, washing machines and even dryers for her clothes. In one central London Gym they even had private massage cubicles that were left unlocked so the patrons could go in and lay down for a few moments even when the masseuse wasn't around. Sarah had gotten quite a few hours of sleep in that place. Maybe she should go there tonight she told herself.
Slipping the soft leather wallet into her own pocket she continued to walk for a few hundred metres. Sarah had planned her route meticulously. There was an alleyway coming up that lead behind some shops where she knew she could check to see what her bounty was. Sarah had stopped there a number of times, as it was a quiet spot at this time of the morning because the local businesses were still closed.
With one final quick glance back to ensure she had not been followed, Sarah casually turned into the alleyway and left the hordes of commuters behind. The rain had begun to ease but the sky was still an ominous grey that said there was more rain to come. Empty refuse containers and black rubbish sacks were strewn up and down the narrow alley. On her right were the rear entrances to all of the shops. At the far end of the path, the alley split into two directions. Taking a left would lead to a dead end about two hundred metres down but taking the right led to another row of businesses but Sarah would not need to go that far in. Number 17 was an abandoned fried chicken shop that had recently gone out of business. The owners had kindly forgotten to lock up properly and left the rear gates open when they vacated the premises. As far as Sarah could tell, she was the only one that knew this titbit of information.
Cautiously she pulled open the cast iron gate and walked into a tiny courtyard that was only big enough to fit a couple of midsized recycling bins. Sarah looked around to ensure she was alone before pulling out the wallet she had just stolen. The leather was soft and supple and obviously expensive but it was of no use to her. She quickly flipped it open and riffled through the contents. The first item that caught her attention was a driver's licence; the owners name was Chad Worthington-Smyth. You could not get a more pompous name if you tried Sarah thought. Slipping the licence back into the wallet she moved onto the bankcards. A black American express and a platinum Visa were sitting snuggly behind the driver's licence both of which were also useless to her without the pin numbers. She smiled to herself feeling somewhat vindicated for choosing Mr Worthington-Smyth. Having those two cards meant that he should be quite well off. The last card she found was the most useful, a bank debit card with a contactless payment chip. This was an excellent find, as it would allow her to make a few quick small purchases of up to £30 without having to know the pin code. On average it was about an hour before people realised they had been pick pocketed and reported their items lost or stolen, in that time Sarah could use the card at least twice to buy groceries if she moved fast enough. Finally, she hit the jackpot; sitting just behind the cards was the compartment used to store currency and in it were five pristine £50 notes. A feeling of elation passed through Sarah. £250 was an amazing amount of money for her. If she budgeted, she could live off that amount for nearly two months. "Thank You Mr Worthington-Smyth" she said aloud.
As she folded the £50 notes in half and placed them carefully in her pocket Sarah couldn't help but smile. Today had started out to be such a good day. Feeling more than a little pleased with herself she tossed the wallet in one of the recycling bins and decided it was time to go buy some much needed supplies with the debit card she had stolen before her unknowing benefactor realised and cancelled it.
The thundering crash of dustbins being toppled over made Sarah jump on the spot; She turned instinctively to flee before realising the noise had come from much further down the alleyway. Her happy demeanour was replaced with one of concern as she tried to figure out what had made that noise. It was too late for the refuse collectors to be doing their rounds and none of the businesses had opened yet. Moving silently out of the courtyard, she re-entered the alleyway proper. The noise sounded like it had come from the junction at the end of the alley on the right side. Common sense told Sarah to leave in the opposite direction and head out onto the main road again but after a few seconds of thought, curiosity got the better of her. Cautiously she walked toward where the noise had originated. For the moment, it had quietened down again. Maybe it was a cat or a dog rummaging for food. Maybe it was another homeless person doing the same thing as her. She would find out in about two metres. As she reached the junction at the end of the path, she carefully peeked around the corner to see whom or what was there, and that one minor decision changed Sarah's world forever.