New Beginnings by Marcia Gaines
Chapter Eight
Rendered silent by the astonishing figure before them, the group stood awkwardly reticent. H.G. Wells – for her part – smiled bewilderedly at each of them, in turn, before settling her vision on Myka Bering's face. The tall beautiful woman, who filled her every thought, returned Helena's gaze with one of her own. Then, as the two locked eyes, the world around them fell away. Claudia exclaimed her delight for the second time that day; Pete's and Leena's faces erupted into ear-to-ear smiles; Steve grinned; and Artie sputtered as he started asking questions. But for H.G. and Myka none of it mattered.
They stared, silently and unmoving, until the space between them seemed to fluidly shrink. Their eyes eloquently spoke the words they could not find. All the pain, anguish, and longing they felt melted away leaving each of them too mesmerized to make even the slightest movement. It was Steve who collected himself first; he recognized the emotion he saw between the two women and it brought a soft smile to his face. Lena caught Steve's eye and she nodded to him before silently leaving the room. Steve took her cue. He tapped Claudia on the shoulder to steal her attention. The young agent looked at him elatedly and started to speak but he stopped her with a finger to his lips. He tilted his head toward the front door as silent direction for her to follow him. She mouthed the question "what?" at him, so he pointed a finger toward the two mesmerized women in response.
"Huh?" Claudia looked at the women. "Right. Uhm. Yeah. You know what guys?" She addressed the group. Myka ignored her and took a tentative step toward Helena. "We should probably get going to the Warehouse…" Pete's eyes brightened as he caught her meaning. He gave her a conspiratorially look of agreement
"Yeah," he said. "We've got some really important… filing… to take care of, right Artie?" Artie paid no attention. He was intently gauging the output of a device he swept toward the room while Helena and Myka began slowly closing the gap between them. Pete reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder.
Artie jumped when he felt Pete's grip. "What?" He looked up clearly confused. Claudia glared at him and he mistook her meaning. "No, you go ahead. I, uh, actually… I thought I'd stay here and see if I could disco…" Claudia impatiently cut him off.
"Wow. Really, Artie?" She made an exaggerated expression with her eyes and darted a glance toward the women.
He followed Claudia's prompt toward their direction. "Oh. OH!" he said. His eyes widened with understanding.
"And he avoids the brick to the head," she said mocking his slow realization. "C'mon, old man, we've got… filing, to do." She shooed him out in front of her ignoring his objections to being called "old", and closed the door behind her as they exited.
The reunited women walked slowly toward one another never averting their eyes. They came to a stop, keeping a foot of space between them, and searched each other's faces. Helena reached out and brushed a wayward curl from Myka's face. No gesture was ever so tender. Only moments ago she had floated into nothingness. She had sacrificed herself, yet again, for this stunning woman in front of her. And, yet impossibly, here they were.
Myka closed her eyes at the feel of Helena's hand on her face. It was a simple act of endearment, but she wanted to lose herself in it. Too soon, the feeling was gone. When she felt the hand withdraw she knit her eyebrows together in disapproval and opened her eyes. Helena's wonder-filled face smiled back at her and it caused Myka's heart to soar. She felt herself smile at Helena for the first time and brought her own hand up to rest upon the nape of Helena's neck. Then she brought her second hand to rest on the opposite side. Her eyes washed over Helena's face and brimmed with tears she had to blink back even as a smile stole over her lips. She leaned in and brought her forehead to rest against Helena's then closed her eyes. Two teardrops hung precariously from her eyelashes before dropping to the floor.
"Are you really here?" Myka's question came as a whisper. The need for reassurance filled her words and melted Helena's heart. She raised her head and gently pressed her lips to Myka's forehead.
"I am," she whispered back closing her eyes. If she could have it her way, she thought, she would never be far from Myka's side ever again. They held the intimate pose, briefly, before Helena pulled Myka's head to her shoulder and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"How can I be sure?" Myka mumbled into Helena's neck and succumbed to the embrace.
"Well, for starters, let's see what we can do about keeping you from such precarious situations in the future, shall we?" Helena chuckled. Myka stiffened moments before stepping back. There it was again, another reminder that she was the reason for Helena's fateful choice.
"Don't say that," she commanded flatly.
"Don't say wha—" Helena realized her mistake, but it was too late. "Myka, I didn't mean it that way." Helena took in the darkness swiftly stealing over Myka's expression. "I know you blame yourself. It's not your fault – it was never your fault."
"I wish I could believe that," Myka said truthfully.
"Myka," Helena said. "I made the choice, not you, and I did it of my own free will." It frustrated her to think this glorious woman bore so much unnecessary guilt. For all her self-confidence and capability, Myka Bering harbored a thinly wrapped fragility inside her hard exterior; it was, in itself, the kind of unexpected complexity upon which Helena's puzzle-solving mind thrived. Yet, for all the fascination she felt whenever she faced the duality of Myka's nature, one thing remained true – they were, without question, kindred spirits.
"I made the same choice you would have made if our positions were reversed." She put a hand to Myka's face turning it so they could face each other. "You would give your life to save another, would you not?" Myka said nothing. "Precisely. And if it would not have been that person's fault you made your choice – then, how exactly, is it your fault I made mine?" Myka tilted her head backward and looked up at the ceiling; she absorbed Helena's words and turned them over in her mind as she took in a deep breath. Helena was right. Her logic, as usual, was flawless. She exhaled slowly and brought her head forward. Helena reached her hand to the back of Myka's neck pulling it gently closer. She leaned in and whispered softly in her ear. "How much more so when that person is someone you love?"
Something stirred inside Myka as she let her mind wrap around the words. She reached her hands up to Helena's face and the two women stood, frozen, looking into each other's eyes. All her months of sadness, all her longing, and all her desire for the incredible being before her flooded her mind. Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed her eyes and leaned inward. Just as she brought their lips together Leena barged into the room.
"Myka! Helena!" She pulled up short and immediately regretted having to interrupt the intimate moment. "I'm, uh, I'm so sorry ladies. But Artie just called. He says he needs us to come to the Warehouse. He says something is seriously wrong."
By the time they arrived every light in the Warehouse was on and both Artie and Claudia were furiously typing on their keyboards and talking into their respective Farnsworths. Pete's face appeared in Artie's view screen; Steve's could be seen in Claudia's.
"I don't see it," said Pete's disembodied voice. Artie, hair more disheveled than usual, mumbled and sent Pete hunting in a new location.
"Yeah, Claud, it's here," Steve assured Claudia. "But, it's not on the bottom shelf of that stack. It's on the opposite shelf and it's at the top."
"Interesting," she said. "Steve, can you see George Washington's wig from where you're standing?"
"Uh." There was a pause. "Uh, nope. No, I don't see a wig anywhere."
"Okay, I need you to go to Receiving," she said. "Check on Davy Jones' Locker."
"You got it!" Steve closed the connection.
Myka and Helena looked at each other. Helena shrugged and Myka spoke. "Artie, what's going on?"
"Something's wrong. Terribly wrong! We're losing artifacts!" He said without turning around.
"Losing artifacts?" Helena asked. "What do you mean?"
He spun around in his chair. "What do you think I mean?" He had the look of a madman. "We're losing artifacts! They're disappearing!" He brought his fingers to his mouth, kissed them, and splayed them open. "Poof! Gone!" He spun around in his chair again and resumed typing.
"Claudia?" Myka addressed the younger agent. "What exactly does he mean, 'gone'?"
"Yeah, strangest thing," Claudia said as she turned to face them. "We came here to, let you guys…" her voice trailed off when Myka raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you know… uh, yeah so when we got here, we were going to go watch Pete and Steve play some ping pong, only we couldn't find the table. Or the paddles." She rolled her chair to her secondary laptop. "And that's when I noticed this." She tapped quickly and brought up a screen of the Warehouse layout covered in red and blue dots.
"What's all that?" Helena said pointing at the dots.
"Good question!" Claudia exclaimed. "Those blue dots, my lovelies, are misplaced artifacts." Myka's eyes went wide.
"All of those?" She looked at Claudia.
"Yeah, exactly. They're still in the Warehouse, just not where they're supposed to be. But, I've been doing a little correlating, and I think I found something." Artie spun around again.
"Found what?" he kicked his feet against the floor until it rolled in Claudia's direction.
"It looks like… one second," she punched a few more keys. "Yep, I was right. It looks like the only missing or misplaced artifacts are ones we moved since the return of the Warehouse." Pete and Steve walked into the office and confirmed Claudia's hypothesis.
"Locker's missing," said Steve.
"And none of those items on the list you gave me are in the proper place, they're all scattered," complained Pete.
"Scattered," said Artie under his breath. He furrowed his brow and rolled back to his desk to dig through papers. Myka leaned over and looked closely at Claudia's screen.
"What are the red dots?" Myka pointed at the screen.
"Oh, those? Those are missing." Claudia said matter-of-factly. "So far we're missing Johann Maelzel's Metronome, Shirō Ishii's Medal, the Collodi Bracelet, and Cleopatra's Coin."
"But those are…" Myka looked startled.
"Yes, the ones relating to the events of that day," Artie replied. No specification was necessary; everyone in the room knew what day he meant.
"Claudia?" Myka's questioning tone caused all eyes to shift to her. "What are those?" She leaned over and stretched her hand out to touch two blinking yellow dots.
"Those," she pressed a few keys, "are artifacts we don't have."
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," Helena said with confusion.
"I mean, those aren't in inventory and never have been. They shouldn't be here," Claudia explained. The team began sorting through theories trying to come up with some sort of explanation when Artie let it slip that he originally believed Helena had been to blame for the oddities they were seeing. Myka bridled at the accusation.
"It's okay, Myka. To be honest, it's honestly a perfectly logical conclusion." Helena defended Artie. "I arrive on the scene, albeit rather unconventionally, meanwhile matters at the Warehouse become abnormal – it's hardly a stretch of the imagination to assume I'm responsible."
Artie shook his head, "Except I don't think you're responsible, anymore. I just think they're related." As he spoke Helena noticed the chain around Myka's neck.
"Is that my locket?" She asked Myka with a smile. "I never thought I'd see it again." Myka stood up and looked down at the necklace. She had become so accustomed to wearing it she had nearly forgotten she still had it.
"Yes, I had it in my pocket when you…when the explo…" She blinked and left the words unsaid, but removed the chain from her neck and placed it around Helena's. She smiled and said, "It always looked better on you." Helena returned the smile and wrapped her hand around the locket. Of all the possessions she had left in the world, this one meant the most to her.
"Oh!" She quickly removed her hand and held the locket up for examination. "It feels a bit odd here," she gingerly touched the injured corner.
"Oh, yes, I'm so sorry," Myka truly hated she could not return it unblemished. "It was damaged about a week ago. I cut myself on it, so I tried to file the edge down a little."
"Oh yeah! Harry Potter's rock!" exclaimed Pete.
"What?" Steve looked at him with an expression that made Claudia guffaw.
"Myka told me she almost got taken out by that rock. You know, that big red crystal thing? I read about it – in a book, and I knew it had to be the same thing. And," he gave Myka a knowing look, "the book said that rock was real. It belonged to a guy named… uhm… what was it? Flammable Nickle!" He snapped his fingers and nodded his head triumphantly; proud to have been able to educate the group with the historical facts for a change.
Myka pursed her lips together and looked down while raising her eyebrows. She never did understand how Pete's mind worked. "Nicholas Flamel," she corrected him. Claudia placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Artie looked at him and shook his head. Pete looked undisturbed. He was still proud for having useful information.
"Ah well, perhaps we can get it repaired," Helena opened the locket and raised her eyebrows. "Well that's not my Christina," she said observationally. Staring back at her was a photograph of herself. It looked to be from her days as an agent at Warehouse 12. She glanced at Myka and smiled.
A sheepish Claudia confessed. "Oh, yeah. Her picture is still in there, so is the one of the dog that was behind that. I just put the one of you on top of both of them. I did that for Myka about a month ago. Owwww!" Claudia rubbed her shoulder where a blushing Myka poked her.
"The dog! I'd very nearly forgotten about Alistair. He was Christina's dog. He followed us home one day and she loved him so much I didn't have the heart to get rid of him. We had him for years." A faraway look appeared in her eyes as she related the story. "About a month or so after he passed on, Christina came crying to me. She was terribly afraid she would forget all about him. I got her the locket and told her as long as she had his photo with her she'd never forget." Helena gently closed the locket. "And when it was… her turn, I decided to heed my own words."
Artie looked at Myka while pointing at Helena's locket. "Do you mean to say this locket, the one you've been wearing around your neck… the one you had on you when the Warehouse exploded… the one that sat in the Escher Vault for over a hundred years…. the very one that once belonged to H.G. Wells, was the same one you bled upon a few days ago? After it was struck by the Philosopher's Stone?" Myka looked bewildered as she nodded to each of his questions. He turned to Helena. "And that's the same necklace you wore in remembrance of your daughter? And she wore it in remembrance of your dog? Is that right?" Helena nodded.
"The locket, the pictures, the Philosopher's Stone…" the team watched him while he mulled his data points. After a few moments he turned his head toward his desk, and then shuffled over to it. He laid his hands on the wood and thought briefly. When his eyebrows shot up, the team knew he had an idea. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "It all makes sense."
"Out with it Rain Man," said Claudia impatiently. She was as eager as the rest of them to understand what had happened.
Artie glared at her, but proffered his idea anyway. "You remember how chaotic everything was when we first brought the Warehouse back?"
"Uh, yeah, I only bathed in neutralize for, like, days." Claudia answered.
"Right. And that was because so many artifacts were affected by the time-shift. Properties changed." He looked at Myka as he spoke. She caught onto his train of thought.
"So you think when the Philosopher's Stone hit the locket…" she said.
"It transmuted the metal, yes." Artie replied. "One of the things the stone does is transmute metals, but it also was said to be able to raise organic life from the dead. Well, technically plant life, but the point is the properties of the Stone must have changed. It's the only answer." He looked at Helena and proceeded with his explanation. "I think the locket probably became an artifact, long ago. Based on its origins and how it's been used ever since, most likely all it does is keep the memory of the wearer fresh – so as not to forget anything about the person whose photograph is shown in the locket. And I think when Myka cut herself on it, her blood acted like a reagent."
"Her blood acted like Varda?" Pete referenced the deceased Regent who perished years previously in Egypt.
"Not Regent – reagent," Artie huffed with irritation.
"A catalyst, if you will," Helena offered as explanation.
"Thank you," Pete said to her. "Okay, a catalyst. So Myka's blood acted as a catalyst and what – it takes all this time for it to work? How does that make sense?" Pete appeared more than doubtful.
"No, I think Pete is right, Artie. It doesn't really make sense." Myka thought hard and said, "But, Leena kept telling me there was a connection – a visible one – between the Locker and me, but she only saw it well whenever I was talking or thinking about Helena." She glanced over at Leena who had been silent since their arrival. "What if the catalyst only made the connection stronger? What if when we were all talking about H.G. back at Leena's, what if that's what brought her back?"
"What kind of connection?" asked Artie. Leena explained what she had observed and described the scene in the sitting area – how the connection grew stronger when each of them touched Myka – and how the colors eventually blended into a brilliant white light. When she finished Helena stepped forward and described her experience in the corridor. Myka listened intently to Helena's words. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized how close she came to losing Helena for good.
"So when I stepped into the vortex, that was the same moment Myka's connection was at its strongest?" She looked to Leena for confirmation and received a nod in reply. She looked down again at the locket and said nothing further. Myka noticed the look on Pete's face; he was scanning the room and had a strange expression.
"Pete, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said. "I'm getting a bad vibe. A really bad vibe." He turned to her and worry clouded his features.
Any conversation or further explanation that might have been forthcoming was dispelled by the sound of metal beams creaking as the Warehouse seemed to shudder. The sound of glass breaking and items falling to the ground could be heard by everyone. Before anyone could ask a question the Warehouse heaved and the interior space visibly warped for a fraction of a second.
"What the hell is going on?" Pete asked and looked around. The Warehouse warped again.
"I feel… weird," said Steve. Whatever he was going to say next no one ever knew. Before their eyes he flickered twice and vanished.
"Steve!" Claudia yelled and ran to where he had been sitting. The others turned to Artie and peppered him with questions. In the confusion none of them noticed the arrival of Mrs. Frederic.
"Arthur, would you be good enough to empty your pockets, please?" the nonplussed voice spoke from behind them all. At another time her sudden presence would have startled everyone, but they were all too focused on what was happening around them to comment. Artie did as requested and emptied the contents of pockets onto his desk. Out came candy wrappers, crumpled papers, keys, and finally – to everyone's surprise – what appeared to be a completely intact pocket watch.
"But this is broken. It's shattered to bits, the pieces are right here on my d-." Artie looked down at his desk and realization hit him. The shattered remnants were missing. What he held in his hand was the pocket watch, as if it had never broken.
"That is what I was afraid of," said Mrs. Frederic.
"Mrs. Frederic?" Artie's question needed no further words.
"The Warehouse is resetting itself," she said.
"Resetting itself?" asked Helena. "To when?"
Mrs. Frederic's somber tone was eerily prescient. She looked at each of them and said "That is the question."
As if on cue, the Warehouse shuddered for a fourth time - and everyone vanished.
Page | 11