KINGDOM OF DAYS
Revised Chapters 1-5
CHAPTER 1: THE ENCOUNTER
Sophie Miller squinted at her laptop screen, the din of the café barely registering in her consciousness. Numbers and variables danced across the display as she typed, stopping occasionally to sip her cooling latte. Just another Tuesday afternoon in Toronto, another job application sent into the void. Twenty-three years old, fresh out of college, and still waiting for real life to begin.
She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, absently touching the small silver stud earring she always wore. Nothing special about it—just a cheap piece she'd had forever, or at least that's what she thought. The job search was going nowhere. With a mathematics degree and a minor in computer science, she'd expected something better than this limbo of rejection emails and dwindling savings.
Sophie didn't notice him at first—a man in his mid-thirties with intelligent eyes, dressed in an unremarkable gray suit. He moved with practiced casualness, balancing a coffee in one hand while scanning the crowded café. His gaze settled on her for a beat too long.
She registered his approach in her peripheral vision but didn't look up until he was standing directly beside her table.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked. His voice was calm, measured—a voice accustomed to being listened to.
Sophie glanced up, irritation flickering across her face. The café was half-empty. "I'm actually about to leave," she lied, instinctively closing her laptop partway.
The man smiled, a practiced expression that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sophie, I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."
Her finger hovered over the power button. A chill ran down her spine—not just from the stranger knowing her name, but from something in his tone that triggered an unexpected flutter of recognition. A memory she couldn't quite place, like a word stuck on the tip of her tongue.
"Do I know you?" She studied his face, finding nothing familiar in his features.
"You did. Very well, actually." He sat down without waiting for permission. "My name is Alex Harmon. We used to work together."
"I think you have the wrong person." Sophie shook her head, gathering her things. "I've never worked anywhere except the campus bookstore and a coffee shop in first year."
"That's what they want you to think." His tone remained gentle but firm. "The people who took you, who put those memories in your head."
Sophie laughed, the sound sharp and defensive. "Okay, this is getting weird. I'm going to go now." She stood up, shoving her laptop into her bag.
"Your favorite song is 'Starlight' by Muse," Alex said quietly. "You can solve partial differential equations in your head. You're allergic to sulfa drugs. And your eyes..." he leaned forward, "aren't actually green."
Sophie froze, one hand clutching her bag. "What are you talking about?"
"The contacts they gave you. They're not your real eye color."
She shook her head. "I've had green eyes my entire life."
Alex reached into his pocket and placed a small case on the table between them. "If I'm wrong, I'll leave and never bother you again. But if I'm right—if you take those contacts out and find a different color underneath—will you hear me out?"
Sophie stared at the contact lens case, a chill running down her spine. Some rational part of her brain screamed to leave, to get away from this stranger with his impossible claims. But another part, quieter yet somehow more insistent, urged her to stay.
"Fine." She snatched up the case and marched to the restroom.
In the harsh fluorescent light, Sophie leaned close to the mirror, fingers trembling as she carefully removed first one contact lens, then the other. She blinked, clearing her vision.
Deep brown eyes stared back at her.
Her stomach lurched. She gripped the edge of the sink, breathing hard. This couldn't be happening. She'd had green eyes her entire life. Hadn't she? Her mother had green eyes. Her father always said...
But who were they, really? Suddenly, she couldn't picture their faces clearly.
When she returned to the table, her face was pale. Alex watched her silently, his expression a mixture of sympathy and quiet satisfaction.
"Who am I?" she whispered, sinking into her chair.
"Your real name is Dr. Sophie Veran. You're a mathematician and software engineer from..." he hesitated, "somewhere very far from here. You were taken three months ago. Drugged, tortured, and given false memories."
"That's insane." But her protest lacked conviction.
"You want more proof," Alex said. It wasn't a question. "I understand."
He withdrew a photograph from his jacket and slid it across the table. A border collie with one blue eye and one brown stared back at her, tongue lolling happily.
Sophie touched the photograph with trembling fingers. She had never owned a dog—at least not in the life she remembered. Yet looking at this animal filled her with a strange sense of emptiness, as if something important had been torn away.
"This doesn't prove anything," she said finally, pushing the photo away. "Anyone could find a picture of a dog."
Alex nodded as if he'd expected this. "One last piece of evidence, then." He reached across the table. "May I see your right earring?"
Sophie's hand went protectively to the small silver stud in her ear. "Why?"
"Because it's not just an earring. And deep down, I think you know that."
After a moment's hesitation, Sophie unfastened the stud and placed it in his outstretched palm. Alex set it on the table between them, then removed what looked like a sleek smartphone from his pocket. He tapped the screen, positioned it near the earring, and murmured something she couldn't quite catch.
The earring glowed faintly, and suddenly the space above the table filled with light—a holographic display hovering in midair.
Sophie gasped, instinctively looking around to see if anyone else in the café had noticed. But no one was paying attention; it was as if they couldn't see it at all.
The display showed images—videos—of her. But not the her she knew. This Sophie wore her hair differently, dressed differently, spoke differently. She was in laboratories, conference rooms, working with equipment Sophie didn't recognize. Talking and laughing with people she had never met—including Alex.
"This is you," Alex explained softly. "Your life, your work. The past three months are stored in this device." He swiped through more footage, then stopped. "Except for this period here." He pointed to a blank section. "This is when they took you to a dead zone. Where they..." he hesitated, "where they tried to make you give up the technology."
"What technology?" Sophie's voice was barely audible.
"The technology you helped create. The very thing they were after." He gestured to the earring. "It's all in here. They wanted it badly, but they didn't know where it was hidden. That's why they let you go, gave you a new identity, fake friends and family. They're hoping you'll lead them to it unknowingly."
Sophie stared at the unfamiliar version of herself flickering in the hologram. Her head pounded with contradictory memories, her entire identity suddenly uncertain.
"Who are you, really? And who... who am I supposed to be?"
"I'm your colleague. Your friend. We work together in intelligence." His voice softened. "You're a genius, Sophie—a brilliant mathematician who developed software so advanced it changed everything." Pride crept into his voice. "You're important. And we need to get you back home."
"Home," she repeated. The word felt hollow and full at the same time.
"I know this is overwhelming." Alex deactivated the display, returning the earring to her. "But we don't have much time. They will realize soon that you're remembering. We need to go somewhere safe, now."
Sophie stared at the tiny silver stud in her palm. It looked so ordinary, yet apparently contained technology beyond anything she could comprehend. Technology she had supposedly helped create.
"I don't know if I believe you," she said finally. "But I don't think I can stay here either. Not knowing..."
"That's enough for now," Alex said gently. "My car is outside. We can talk more on the way."
"On the way where?"
"To a place where I can help you remember who you really are."
Sophie took a deep breath, feeling as though she stood at the edge of a precipice. Behind her lay everything she thought she knew. Before her, an abyss of uncertainty.
She put the earring back in her ear.
"Lead the way."
Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street. Sophie followed Alex to a black sedan parked half a block away. As he opened the passenger door for her, she hesitated, a final moment of doubt.
"If I'm someone else—this Dr. Veran person—then who are the people I remember? My parents, my friends... are they all fake?"
Alex's expression darkened. "Some are operatives. Others are just people paid to interact with you in specific ways, feed you certain lines. They built a convincing cover for you." He paused. "I'm sorry, Sophie. None of it was real."
As she slid into the car, Sophie felt something she couldn't quite name—not exactly grief, not exactly relief. A strange lightness, as if she'd been carrying a weight she hadn't known was there.
The car pulled away from the curb. In the rearview mirror, Sophie watched the café recede, along with the life she'd thought was hers. Whoever she really was, wherever they were going, there was no turning back now.
The sky above Toronto was growing darker, clouds gathering on the horizon. A storm was coming.
CHAPTER 2: THE JOURNEY BEGINS
The car moved through Toronto's streets with practiced efficiency, Alex navigating through traffic as if he'd memorized every possible route. Sophie sat silently beside him, her mind racing to process everything that had happened in the café.
"You have questions," Alex said after several minutes of silence. It wasn't a question.
"About a million," Sophie replied, staring out the window at the familiar city that suddenly felt alien. "But I don't even know where to start."
Alex nodded, eyes on the road. "It's a lot to take in. We have about an hour's drive ahead of us. I can fill in some blanks, if you're ready."
"Where are we going, exactly?"
"To a secure extraction point. From there, we'll take a... transport back home."
"And where is home?" Sophie turned to study his profile. "You keep avoiding saying where I'm supposedly from."
Alex's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "It's complicated. I'm trying not to overwhelm you all at once."
"Right, because telling me my entire life is a lie wasn't overwhelming at all." The sarcasm came naturally, and Sophie noticed Alex's lips quirk in a small smile.
"That sounds more like the Sophie I know," he said. "Always quick with a comeback."
The comment unsettled her. This man knew a version of her that she couldn't remember. A version that, according to him, was the real Sophie.
"Tell me about her," she said quietly. "About me. What am I like... there?"
Alex seemed to choose his words carefully. "Brilliant. Driven. You're the youngest person ever to head the Chronometric Research Division. You have a habit of working through the night when you're onto something, surviving on terrible coffee and those protein bars you insist aren't disgusting." His expression softened. "You're also stubborn, fiercely loyal, and have a surprisingly good singing voice that you only use when you think no one's listening."
Sophie tried to reconcile this description with her own self-image. It felt like hearing about a stranger, yet something about it resonated in a way she couldn't explain.
"And we work together?"
"For the past four years. We're part of a specialized intelligence unit. I handle field operations and personnel security. You develop the technology that makes our work possible."
"What kind of technology?"
Alex hesitated. "That's one of the more complicated parts. The work we do involves... historical integrity monitoring."
"That means nothing to me."
"I know. Look, there's something I'd like to try, if you're willing." He reached for the car's console and tapped a sequence on the touchscreen. "Music has strong memory associations. I brought some of your favorites."
The car filled with the opening notes of a song Sophie didn't consciously recognize—a haunting piano melody that gave way to soaring electronic elements. Yet as the music played, she felt a strange tingling at the base of her skull, a pressure behind her eyes.
"What is this?" she asked, her voice sounding distant to her own ears.
"Just listen," Alex said quietly. "Don't try to force anything."
Sophie closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Images flickered through her mind—snippets too brief to grasp, feelings without context. A laboratory bathed in blue light. The sensation of typing rapidly on a keyboard unlike any she'd ever used. A view from a window of a skyline that couldn't possibly be Toronto.
The song ended, and Sophie opened her eyes to find Alex watching her with careful attention.
"Something happened," he said. "What did you see?"
"Nothing clear. Just... fragments." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "It could be my imagination filling in gaps based on what you've told me."
"It could be. Or it could be your real memories starting to break through." Alex selected another song. "Let's try again."
They continued like this as the car left the city behind, moving onto highways and then smaller roads that wound through the Ontario countryside. With each song, the flashes grew slightly stronger, though never cohesive enough to form a complete memory.
After the sixth song, Sophie held up her hand. "I need a break. My head is killing me."
Alex immediately turned the music off. "There's water in the compartment by your knee."
Sophie found the bottle and drank deeply. The cool water helped ground her back in the present moment.
"So this... place we're going," she said after a moment. "I'm guessing it's not in Canada."
"No. It's not."
"Is it even on Earth?" The question surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise Alex.
He glanced at her sharply. "What makes you ask that?"
Sophie shook her head, confused by her own query. "I don't know. It just... came out."
A small smile touched Alex's lips. "Your mind is starting to work around the blocks they put in place." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Yes, Sophie. It's on Earth. But not the Earth you're familiar with."
"What does that mean?"
"It means..." Alex took a deep breath. "The place we call home exists in the same physical location as Toronto, but in a different time."
Sophie stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, she laughed nervously. "Right. And when exactly is this mysterious time?"
"About a hundred and fifty years from now. The year 2175."
The laughter died in her throat. "You're claiming to be from the future."
"I'm not claiming anything. I'm telling you the truth." Alex's voice remained calm, matter-of-fact. "You and I both work for an organization that monitors and maintains temporal continuity. In simple terms, we're time cops."
Sophie turned away, looking out the window at the passing countryside. This was too much. Eye color and dog photos were one thing, but time travel? It was absurd. Yet even as she rejected the idea, another part of her mind was already analyzing the possibility, calculating theoretical frameworks that might allow for temporal displacement.
Why would her mind immediately jump to mathematical models for time travel if there wasn't some truth to what he was saying?
"The people who took you," Alex continued, "they have rudimentary time travel capability. Enough to bring you back here and establish a cover identity. But nowhere near as sophisticated as what you helped develop."
"And what exactly did I develop?"
"A way to observe the past without disrupting it. Most time travel theories run into the grandfather paradox or similar problems. You helped create a system that allows for observation without interaction—we call them 'observation bubbles.' Agents can travel back and experience historical events while remaining essentially invisible to the timeline."
Despite herself, Sophie was intrigued. "That doesn't sound possible."
"It wasn't, until you made it possible. Think of it like a one-way mirror. We can see in, but the past can't see us."
Sophie's head was spinning, but before she could ask another question, the car slowed, turning onto a narrow road that cut through dense forest.
"We're getting close," Alex said, his tone shifting to something more alert, professional. "I need to brief you on what's going to happen next."
He turned off the music entirely and pressed another button on the console. A soft hum filled the car, and the windows tinted darker.
"Signal jammer," he explained. "What I'm about to tell you needs to stay between us."
Sophie nodded, tension coiling in her stomach.
"The place we're headed to looks like a private helicopter pad. That's its cover. What it actually houses is a temporal extraction point—an ET-point, we call them. It will take us back to our time."
"Like a time machine."
"In the most basic sense, yes. But it's not quite what you're probably imagining." Alex checked the rearview mirror before continuing. "Here's what you need to know: standard procedure would be to take you directly back to headquarters for full deprogramming and memory recovery. But I don't think that's safe right now."
Sophie straightened in her seat. "Why not?"
"Because your abduction wasn't random. You were targeted specifically for what you know, and I have reason to believe there may be internal involvement."
"You think someone from your organization helped kidnap me?"
"I think it's a possibility we can't afford to ignore." Alex's voice was grim. "That's why I came alone, and why we're not following standard protocol. Instead of going straight back, we're making a detour. There's a secure facility where we can begin your deprogramming safely, off the grid."
Sophie studied him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Either this was an elaborate hoax, or she had stumbled into something far more complex and dangerous than she could have imagined.
"If what you're saying is true," she said slowly, "then these people who kidnapped me—who are they? What do they want?"
"They call themselves RX—at least, that's their current name. They're a quasi-religious organization that believes time travel should be used more... interventionally. They oppose many of our protocols and restrictions."
"What does that mean, 'interventionally'?"
"It means they want to change things, Sophie. Alter the past to reshape the present. Your technology makes that very difficult for them. But if they could reverse-engineer or modify it..." He let the implication hang in the air.
The forest had grown denser around them, the road narrowing further. Alex slowed the car as they approached what appeared to be a simple gate blocking the road. He lowered his window and placed his palm on a scanner hidden within a rustic-looking wooden post.
"Alex Harmon and Dr. Sophie Veran," he said clearly. "Authorization Omega-Seven-Three-Nine."
The gate slid open silently, revealing a winding driveway that disappeared into the trees.
"Almost there," Alex said, driving through. "If anything happens when we arrive—anything unexpected—stay close to me and do exactly as I say, understood?"
The seriousness in his voice sent a chill through Sophie. "What are you expecting to happen?"
"Nothing, hopefully. But I've learned to prepare for contingencies."
CHAPTER 3: THE AMBUSH
As they approached what appeared to be a private heliport nestled in a clearing surrounded by dense forest, Sophie's apprehension grew. The silver pendant Alex had given her felt strangely comforting against her skin, even though she had no conscious memory of it being important to her.
"That's our transport?" Sophie asked, nodding toward a sleek black helicopter waiting in the center of the pad.
"Not exactly," Alex replied, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings as he parked the car. "The helicopter is just what it looks like to casual observers. Our actual transport is inside one of those buildings."
He nodded toward a row of what appeared to be maintenance structures at the edge of the clearing. Nothing about them suggested they housed futuristic technology capable of sending people through time.
"Stay close to me," Alex instructed as they exited the car. "If anything unexpected happens, do exactly as I say. No questions."
The seriousness in his tone sent a chill through Sophie. "What are you expecting?"
"Nothing, hopefully. But in my line of work, expecting the unexpected is standard procedure."
They had taken only a few steps toward the nearest building when the sound of approaching vehicles made them both turn. Three black SUVs with tinted windows appeared on the access road, moving quickly toward the heliport.
Alex tensed immediately, his hand moving toward his concealed weapon. "This isn't right. No one should know about this location."
The vehicles screeched to a halt, forming a semicircle that effectively blocked their path back to the car. Doors opened simultaneously, and figures emerged—men and women dressed in ordinary civilian clothes, but moving with the coordinated precision of trained operatives.
Sophie's blood ran cold as she recognized the lead figure—a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and silver-streaked hair pulled back in a neat bun.
"Mom?" she whispered, the programmed recognition automatic despite everything Alex had told her.
Behind the woman came others—a man Sophie's false memories identified as her father, two friends from college, even her supposed roommate from sophomore year. All people who had been part of her fabricated life in Toronto.
"Sophie, honey!" the woman called, her face a perfect mask of maternal concern. "Thank God we found you. We've been so worried!"
Alex's grip on Sophie's arm tightened slightly. "Remember who you are," he murmured. "Remember what I showed you."
The woman—not her mother, Sophie reminded herself—approached with arms outstretched. "Sophie, please come home with us. This man is dangerous. He's been stalking you for weeks—the police are looking for him."
"It's true," added the man playing her father, his expression grave. "He's wanted for multiple abductions. He targets young women like you, feeds them elaborate stories..."
Sophie felt momentarily dizzy as her programmed memories fought against the fragments of truth Alex had shown her. These people looked so familiar, so concerned. Part of her wanted desperately to go to them, to return to the comfortable certainty of the life she thought she knew.
"Sophie," Alex said quietly. "Your eyes. The earring. The dog. Remember."
The woman reached them, her face a portrait of motherly worry. "Sweetheart, please. Whatever he told you is a lie. You're Sophie Miller. You graduated from the University of Toronto last year. You've lived here your whole life."
She reached for Sophie's hand, but Sophie pulled back slightly, her mind racing. The evidence Alex had shown her couldn't be faked—her brown eyes behind green contacts, the technology in her earring, the visceral response she'd had to seeing the photo of a dog she couldn't consciously remember.
"If I'm Sophie Miller," she said slowly, "then why do I have contacts changing my eye color? Why couldn't I remember having them?"
A flicker of something—calculation? concern?—crossed the woman's face before smoothing into sympathetic confusion. "What are you talking about, honey? You've never worn contacts. Your eyes have always been green."
"No," Sophie said, her voice gaining strength. "They haven't."
The group exchanged glances—subtle, but Sophie caught it. A silent communication passing between them that no real family would need.
"He's confused you," her fake father insisted, stepping forward. "Whatever he showed you was manipulated. We just want to take you home where you'll be safe."
"She is going home," Alex interjected firmly. "Her real home."
The woman's demeanor changed, hardening almost imperceptibly. "This doesn't concern you," she said to Alex, her voice losing some of its warmth. Then, to Sophie: "Think about it, honey. All your memories—your childhood, school, your friends... How could all that be fake?"
Sophie's hand went to the pendant at her throat—the one Alex said had belonged to her mother. Her real mother, not this woman. The metal felt warm against her fingers, resonating with something deep within her.
"My mother gave me this," she said, holding up the pendant. "My real mother."
The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sophie, I've never seen that necklace before. Where did he get it?"
It was the wrong question—one a real mother would never ask. In that moment, Sophie knew with certainty that Alex was telling the truth. These people, whatever their true identities, were not her family.
"I'm going with Alex," she said firmly, stepping closer to him.
The facade crumbled instantly. The maternal warmth vanished from the woman's face, replaced by cold calculation. The others shifted subtly, hands moving toward concealed weapons.
"That's unfortunate," the woman said, her tone now clipped and professional. "We had hoped to handle this quietly."
Alex moved with startling speed, pushing Sophie slightly behind him while drawing his weapon. "Don't," he warned the group. "You're outnumbered and outgunned."
The woman smiled thinly. "Are we?"
Sophie glanced around and realized more figures had emerged from the SUVs—at least ten operatives in total, all now dropping any pretense of being ordinary civilians.
"Sophie," Alex murmured without taking his eyes off the threat. "When I give the signal, run for the third building on the left. Don't stop, don't look back."
"But—"
"Trust me."
The woman took another step forward. "Sophie, be reasonable. You know too much to simply walk away. Come with us willingly, and no one needs to get hurt."
"Last warning," Alex said calmly. "Back off."
The woman sighed as if disappointed. "Take them," she ordered.
Several things happened at once. Alex's left hand moved to his jacket pocket, withdrawing what looked like a small metal canister. In one fluid motion, he tossed it toward the group and shouted, "Now, Sophie! Run!"
The canister erupted with a soft hiss, releasing a fine mist that enveloped the fake family members. Sophie didn't wait to see what happened next. She turned and sprinted toward the building Alex had indicated, heart pounding in her chest.
Behind her, she heard coughing and confused shouting as the mist did its work. A quick glance over her shoulder showed the operatives stumbling about in disorientation, some already slumping to the ground.
Alex was right behind her, covering their retreat with his weapon drawn though he wasn't firing. "Keep going!" he urged.
They reached the nondescript maintenance building, and Alex quickly placed his palm on what appeared to be an ordinary access panel. It immediately lit up, scanning his hand before the heavy door slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss.
Sophie darted inside with Alex close behind. The door sealed shut automatically as Alex moved to a control panel and entered a rapid sequence of commands.
"What was that?" Sophie asked, still catching her breath. "What did you do to them?"
"Targeted amnesia aerosol," Alex explained, continuing to work at the panel. "Non-lethal but highly effective. They'll wake up in about thirty minutes with no memory of the past few hours."
"Those people... they weren't really my family, were they?"
"No. Trained operatives with enough surface knowledge of your fake identity to be convincing." Alex turned to face her. "But you saw through them. You trusted your instincts."
Sophie nodded slowly. "It felt wrong. Like actors playing parts they hadn't quite memorized."
"That's your real self breaking through the programming." Alex's expression softened slightly. "You did well, Sophie."
For the first time since this strange journey began, Sophie felt something like pride. She had faced a test and passed it, choosing truth over comfortable illusion.
"What now?" she asked, looking around the interior of the building.
Only then did she register where they were—not in a maintenance structure at all, but a high-tech facility dominated by a circular platform surrounded by machinery that hummed with quiet energy. Screens and control panels lined the walls, displaying information in formats Sophie had never seen before.
"Now," Alex said, moving toward the platform, "we go home."
The trees parted to reveal a small clearing with what looked like a helipad in the center. A sleek black helicopter sat waiting, its blades still. A few maintenance buildings dotted the perimeter, but otherwise, the facility looked minimal, even abandoned.
Alex parked the car and turned to Sophie. "Are you ready?"
She looked at the helicopter, then back at him. "That's really going to take us to the future?"
"Not exactly." He smiled slightly. "That's just what it looks like to anyone who might be watching. The real transport is inside one of those buildings."
He reached into his jacket and removed a small case. "Before we go in, there's something else I should give you."
Inside the case was an elegant silver chain with a small pendant.
"Your mother's necklace," Alex said softly. "You never go anywhere without it."
Sophie took the necklace, surprised by the wave of emotion that washed over her as her fingers closed around it. It felt right somehow, the weight and texture familiar in a way she couldn't explain.
"I don't remember her," Sophie whispered.
"You will." Alex's voice was gentle. "Put it on. It might help."
Sophie fastened the chain around her neck, the pendant coming to rest just below her collarbone. It was simple—a small silver disk etched with what looked like a constellation.
"Ready?" Alex asked again.
This time, Sophie nodded. Whatever lay ahead, whatever the truth of her identity might be, the only way to find answers was to move forward.
They stepped out of the car into the cool air of approaching evening. The clearing was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant calls of birds and the soft whisper of wind through leaves.
"Stay close," Alex murmured, leading her toward the largest of the maintenance buildings. His hand drifted to his side, and Sophie realized with a jolt that he was armed, a gun holstered discretely beneath his jacket.
Just what had she gotten herself into?
The building looked ordinary from the outside—weathered metal siding, heavy industrial door, small windows placed high along the walls. Alex placed his palm on another scanner disguised as a normal access panel. The door slid open with a pneumatic hiss.
Inside was anything but ordinary. The space was dominated by a circular platform surrounded by machinery that hummed with quiet energy. Screens and control panels lined the walls, displaying information in formats Sophie had never seen before.
"This is the transport," Alex explained, leading her toward the platform. "It creates a contained temporal displacement field. The process feels a little strange the first time, but it's perfectly safe."
Sophie stared at the machinery, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. Part of her—the part still clinging to the identity of Sophie Miller, recent graduate—wanted to turn and run. But another part, something deeper and more insistent, recognized the technology before her. Not consciously, but on some intuitive level that bypassed her surface memories.
"I've done this before," she said softly.
Alex nodded. "Many times."
He approached a control panel and began a startup sequence. The humming grew louder, and lights around the circular platform began to activate in sequence.
"The transport takes about two minutes to initialize," he explained. "Once we're on the platform, there's a brief disorientation as the field establishes, then—"
A sharp sound cut him off—the unmistakable beep of an incoming alert from a device on his wrist. Alex's expression changed instantly, tension replacing the careful calm he'd maintained throughout their journey.
"What is it?" Sophie asked, her pulse quickening.
"Proximity alert. Someone's coming." He moved swiftly to another panel, accessing a security feed. "We have company. Three vehicles approaching the gate."
"The RX people? How did they find us?"
"I don't know." Alex's voice was tight. "The question is, how did they know to look here? This facility is off-books."
He made a rapid decision. "Change of plans. We're activating now."
"But you said it takes two minutes to initialize."
"It does. We'll have to stall them." He drew his weapon—a sleek pistol unlike any Sophie had seen. "Get on the platform. Don't move from there, no matter what happens."
Sophie stepped onto the circular platform, her heart hammering in her chest. Through the windows high on the walls, she could now make out headlights approaching.
"Alex, who are these people? Why do they want me so badly?"
He glanced at her, his expression grim but determined. "Because you're the only person who's ever managed to create a system that they can't corrupt or control. Your technology is the only thing standing between them and their ability to rewrite history."
The platform beneath them began to glow faintly, the humming intensifying.
"Listen to me," Alex said urgently. "If something happens to me, the transport will still activate. When you arrive, ask for Director Keller. Tell her Echo Protocol. She'll understand."
"What? Nothing's going to happen to you." Sophie looked from him to the approaching headlights. "We'll both go. Just like you planned."
Alex checked a display on the wall. "Sixty seconds to field activation." He moved to position himself between Sophie and the door. "Stay down."
The vehicles had reached the clearing now. Through the windows, Sophie could see them surrounding the building—black SUVs with tinted windows. Figures were emerging, moving with tactical precision.
"Who informed them?" Alex muttered, more to himself than to Sophie. "This location is classified level seven."
The realization hit Sophie suddenly. "You think there's a mole. That's why you didn't want to follow standard protocol."
Alex nodded grimly. "And it looks like I was right."
The door they had entered through remained sealed, but a pounding began on the exterior—someone trying to breach it. Alex shifted his position
