Haven (14) Dominic awoke and the world was shaking. He lay there for a moment trying to remember anything he might have ever heard about earthquakes in Haven. His mind found no such memory. Before he had time to consider any other alternative as to what might be causing the disturbance someone spoke to him. “Dom,” he heard the female voice say somewhat urgently. “What?” His tone was not at all pleasant. “Get up.” He lay there for a few more seconds being shaken by Grace and wondering when the last time he had hit a woman had been. Finally, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked up, bleary-eyed, at Grace and said, “I’m guessing you’ve never been married.” She seemed quite taken aback by this remark. “Why do you think that?” “You’d be dead.” Grace tried to smile and failed. “What’s so damned important,” he added quickly. “The police say that somebody requested Jenny’s criminal records online a few nights ago.” “Who was it?” “The Organization is tracing it now,” she said. Dom thought about this for a moment. “You woke me up for that?” He did not sound angry, just confused. “Partly,” she said. “And the other part?” “I was bored,” she said quietly. “Little bit lonely.” “Don’t you ever sleep?” Dom looked around until he found a shirt to put on. “Not much.” She paused and looked at Dom as though she were searching for something. “I have nightmares.” “About what?” Dom found this rather curious. People that knew about (not to mention destroy) the things that go bump in the night always seemed to him to have little of which to be afraid. “Have you ever been to the Organization’s research center?” Grace’s face paled as she spoke. Dom shook his head and furrowed his brow. “I used to work there.” Her voice had suddenly become hushed. “I became a Cleaner to get away from that.” “What’s so bad about it?” “Do you know what they do there?” Again Dom shook his head. “Well, on a good day I was lucky to be working with pieces of vampires. Other days they brought in live ones that had been captured some way or another.” Grace’s eyes had become distant. “Most of the time they had us inject them with some new kind of Render. That was really the hard part. It didn’t seem to bother anyone that I worked with, but I couldn’t sleep at night without hearing them screaming every time I closed my eyes. I thought transferring out of research would solve the problem, but it didn’t. So, I’ve learned to function on very little sleep.” This last sentence seemed to draw Grace back out of memory. Dom only stared blankly at her. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to that. It was not the first time he had heard horror stories about the Organization’s research projects. He truly did pity Grace for having experienced something that horrific, but he did not know how her current position was supposed to be any better. “So…” He was not sure how to ask her. “Why go from torturing them to killing them?” she asked for him. “Yes.” “They don’t scream when they’re dead.” This shook Dom. He had not expected such a brutal response from her. In that one statement she had lost all pity that Dom might have had for her. In fact, he was thinking strongly about requesting her psychological evaluation results. If nothing else he would surely have to suggest that she be reevaluated. She seemed to pick up on his discomfort. She shifted uneasily in her chair. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep,” she said after a long silence. “Sounds like a good idea,” Dom said as she stood. “I’ve got a few errands I need to run today,” he included quickly afterward. “I should be back before nightfall.” Grace nodded as she stepped into the small bathroom and closed the door. He immediately started pulling on clothes and looking for his keys. While Grace had been talking, Dom had decided that he really needed to get some background information on her. She should have never been able to become a Cleaner with the issues she had with vampires. Something was going on with the Organization, and if Grace was any indication of what it was, then he wanted no part of it. He left his building and trudged six blocks through the snow to a payphone. The streets were relatively free of people, and Dom was glad of it. He had become increasingly paranoid since speaking to Grace. He picked up the older fashioned phone receiver and dialed the direct line of the Organization’s information center. He knew that as an Observer/Cleaner he could get Grace’s record without much trouble. “Name and rank?” came the terse female voice at the other end of the line. “Dominic Erudite. Observer, First-Class.” “Identification number?” Dom rambled off the ridiculously long number that had been assigned him. “Service?” the voice asked, more politely now. “I need a full record pulled on Grace Trinity, and I need it all by phone, so I hope you aren’t busy.” “Just a moment.” “Oh, wait,” he said. “Yes?” “Can you also get me a complete list of Cleaner objectives in Haven.” Dominic had decided that even if Grace came up clean he wanted to do things by the book. “Your record says you have only been in Haven for five months,” the woman sounded somewhat puzzled. “Yes,” said Dom. “That’s correct.” “There are, as of yet, no Cleaner objectives for Haven.” Dom’s heart froze. “Read me the summary of Trinity’s file,” he said hurriedly. “Not much to read,” she said. “Missing. Presumed compromised.” “Compromised? What were the circumstances?” “It appears that she went missing during the escape of two subjects. I’ve only got a name on one of the escapees, though. Martin Azarius. It is believe that he took her with him.” “Look,” said Dom. “We’ve got a problem here. I’ve got a woman here in Haven claiming to be Grace Trinity. She’s got falsified Cleaning orders, and she’s been carrying them out. Contact the administrators and alert them to the situation.” Dom took a look around to make sure Grace was not lurking behind him. He regretted was he was about to say, but it had to be done. “And, get me a Fixer out here on the double.” Dom slammed the receiver onto the hook and slumped against the inside of the phone booth. Something had gone horribly awry in Haven, and he had no idea what it was. He was sure that Grace was not a vampire, and she obviously had no love or gratitude for Martin Azarius. It did trouble him that he could not get a name on the other vampire that escaped. He wanted to know why there was no suspicion surrounding whoever that was. The Organization did not typically make assumptions like that. It would probably take a day for the Fixer to get to Haven. Dom was not pleased about having to call one in, but the situation seemed to demand it. In the meantime, though, he thought he should try to get some answers from Grace. The thought did not really appeal to his sense of logic, but she needed to be kept in check at least until the Fixer arrived. Reluctantly, Dom headed back toward his apartment. * * * * * * * Lines of fate crisscrossed through the dark. The futures of the world hung there in the tapestry they eventually wove. Pepper explored the city with her inner eye, and did not like what she saw. A cloud of dark plots and death seemed to loom over the entire city. This darkness even engulfed her own people and their kin. She was not sure what was going on, and she was not sure that she wanted to know. It seemed like a good time to take a vacation from Haven, but she knew that she could. This future included her, even if only a little. In the world of the present she sat in the forest pondering what might come of all this chaos. Only a short while before, Methos had come to speak to her about all of it. He had asked her to wait for Jenny to come this night in need of her help. Pepper knew that she owed Jenny a debt of life, but if Methos had not commanded it, Pepper would have already left the city. She wanted no place in all this madness, but she did not think that it would do too much harm to stay only until tonight. Maybe she could talk Toby into going somewhere with her. Methos had sent the buck off on some business when he found the two of them together. Pepper had thought she heard Methos say something about Toby seeing to some human girl, but she was not sure. She was very anxious to get this business over with, and move on to happier times. Hopefully, those times would take place outside of Haven. The city suddenly seemed very unappealing to Pepper. Somewhere sunny was what she wanted now. After Jenny found her, and her part was done, Pepper intended to find one. * * * * * * * Far away from Haven, a man was awakened by a phone call. A hand immediately emerged from under a thick blanket to grasp the receiver and pull it back beneath the blanket. A few moments later the hand reappeared and returned the receiver to its base. After a series of sleepy grunts, a few cracks and pops of old bones and joints, and a full minute of tossing and turning, the blanket was discarded. The gaunt, almost emaciated, body was visible only in the few feeble beams of light that fell through the blinds from a streetlight. He was scarred heavily about the arms and torso. His limbs were twisted and marred from bones broken in his past. Finally, the man sat up and eventually stood. He deftly maneuvered through the darkness until he found his way to a closet to dress himself. His suit was clean, meticulously kept, and black from seam to seam. No light was necessary for him to dress by. The suit was his only piece of clothing. He knew it intimately. No light was used until he reached his bathroom. He looked himself in the mirror and frowned as he brushed his teeth. A few well-placed brush strokes prepared his brown stringy hair. He trimmed his small black moustache to an acceptable level of neatness before moving to the den. A small black valise set by the front door awaiting his departure. He took one last look at himself in a full-sized mirror before he moved toward the door. A cold set of green eyes stared back at him. Few that had met those eyes full on had lived to tell the story. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the days to come. He was ready. He knew that he could do the job demanded of him. He was prepared to destroy, to protect, and to calm. He was Jack Usher: The Fixer. ACT IV “He who dies a thousand deaths meets the final hour with the calmness of one who approaches a well- remembered door.” --Heywood Brown August 22nd, 2046: Grace Trinity sat and stared at the six small vials of red fluid on the lab table before her. All around her the lab bustled with activity, but Grace could not approach her work with the same enthusiasm as her co-workers. She knew all too well what the six new forms of Render that had been delivered to her would be used for. A few weeks earlier, Grace had been assigned to the new vampire inmate, Martin Azarius. The majority of her duties with Martin included questioning him under the painful effects of Render. She did not enjoy the work at all. Thankfully, Grace did not think that he could take too much more of the questioning. Though she was very ashamed of it, she really wished that he would die soon. He had already told the Organization about Haven, and he had given them a few names to check on. Still, they wanted more from him. Today, Grace was supposed to interrogate him further about Haven’s exact location. Thus far, he had refused to give them the state in which the city was located, or the general size of the city. From a few clues that he had given them, the Organization had determined that it could be any one of five major cities in the United States or Canada. They simply did not have the manpower to investigate all of them. Reluctantly, Grace picked up the tray containing the six kinds of Render and walked out of the lab. She would also have to note the effect of each of the vials on Martin. This in itself was a day’s worth of work. Her idea of job satisfaction was quickly being redefined. The corridors down which Grace now walked were dull gray and depressing. The doors that lined the walls all held the Organization’s prisoners. Most of them vampires. Only one corridor was out of bounds for Grace. She passed it every day, and shivered whenever she did. No part of her curiosity wished to know what lay beyond its electronically sealed door. She moved passed the door to that hallway with unease, and then did her best to forget about it. Eventually, she reached the door that held Martin on the other side. Grace peered through the slot in the door to ensure that he had been properly subdued. Martin was strapped into a largish steel chair in the center of the room. Another, more comfortable, chair had also been placed in the room for Grace alongside a small table. Grace put her left eye to the retinal scanner next to the door and waited for it to open. A few seconds later the door slid open with a quick swishing sound allowing Grace a few moments to enter. When she entered the room and took her seat Martin’s head snapped to attention and smiled at Grace. She tried to smile back at him, but it proved to be too awkward a gesture for her to follow through with. “Good evening, Grace,” he said weakly. “Come to visit me again so soon?” “Yes, well,” she started uncomfortably. “I’m sure that we both wish that this was just a social visit.” “You flatter me, Grace. If I could I think I would blush.” Again, Martin cast a crooked smile at her. Grace thought that she might have actually blushed at him. “Shall we get to business, Mr. Azarius?” Grace asked, attempting to direct the conversation toward her purpose. “Please call me Martin,” he suggested to her, trying to keep things friendly. “What I call you is not important,” she said sternly. “I might remind you that you are a prisoner here.” “You might, but you don’t.” He winked at her. “It’s hard to remember that I’m a prisoner when they send beautiful women to talk to me every day.” Martin had learned quickly that Grace hated this sort of talk.
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