Gospel III: Roots.

Arriving at the center, Steven went to the modules at the basement.

More people were around this time. They discussed over a drink. Two men and a woman,

"First day for you too aswell I presume, miss Diggswater?", The first man said.

He was dressed in tweed and was chubby in built. The ring on his finger looked like it was choking a weenie.

"Definitly not, I can assure you that I was among those who worked until the same day the Society closed down the profession. It was a sad day for us all.", Said miss Diggswater.

Miss Diggswater wore a saffron-coloured dress. It made her look like a tent, her limbs being the thin tentsticks. Time was against her, it radiated about her behind the make-up and eyeshadow.

"So far only you, mister Higsby… and mister Dawson are fresh. Speaking of matters here he is. ", Angus said.

"Good morning, mister Dawson.", Diggswater said. She smiled.

"Klaus Higsby, former freighter at the magnafields. Got some problem with health so I had to take a different job. It was the doc’s order, "Nobody endures longer exposure of magnetism". So you were the lucky dog who got the first... ehm, what did we call them again?" Higsby scanned Steven up from down.

"Period, dear. Make sure to remember it well." , Diggswater added.

"Will do, or atleast try to."

Steven nodded mechanically.

"Is something the matter, Steven?", Angus said.

Steven shook his head.

"Nothing, everything is fine…"

"Are you sure? You look a bit pale for someone your age, although they can have the most obnoxious habits…", Diggswater said.

"I should introduce you all. Everyone, this is Steven Dawson, a man of few words but he has the means if you look at yesterday’s recordings.", Angus said. Then he pointed at Diggswater and Higsby. "Miss Marple Diggswater, widow and former teacher. She was excited being called to resume her profession in a new fashion, being senior citizen and all. Don’t let that fool you Steven, she has more authority then her looks tells."

"Oh no, that would be to say too much." ,Diggswater said. She had a hint of red on her chins.

Angus continued; "Klaus Higsby, fresh as you on this profession The group have grown since last time, but hopefully even more will apply shortly after seeing this… afterall still important profession for the society."

They shook hands one at a time.

"So tell me, uhm Stein was it? How did it feel, I mean having over a hundred people staring at you isn’t something I could picture myself in.", Higsby said.

"… Steven. Nothing, only focus on the target. Look at them as ants with toothpicks.", Steven said.

"Sounds a bit complicated Steven, I mean I never met too many people at the fields. Less look down at them.", Higsby said.

"I wouldn’t do that myself.", Diggswater added. "Students are more willing to learn if the teacher is at their level."

"Nonethless, they do retaliate with that approach...", Steven said.

The discussion went on with the additional, into ways of how to convince the unwilling students to like what they are taught, the budget and how it’s going to be spent. Afterall, no comission existed for the educationeer-profession. Steven was short-worded during the time. Most thoughts went on to where he was going after the last class. Time started to approach for the first period, the four educationeers split an elevator as they were going the same way up.

This time the classroom was two floors higher up then yesterday. The rooms were plenty, but smaller in appearance. Steven opened the door and lights turned on as he walked in. Looking at the room it sported only half of what he had yesterday. The seats were in three squares matched up beside eachother. The sticks, or projectors as they were called, were located in the beginning of the room to allow the students from afar to see the one on stage.

Today the subject was geography, an easier topic on doubleperiod. It struck to him that he couldn’t recall much from this morning, only nightmares becoming reality. What that meant was withheld from him in an engima.

The clock struck ten and people started to pour in. Majority were senior, forty years and up. Younger students were working. Less the babble. The lesson started without delay.

Steven started with letting the students recall their knowledge on how the world has been, became and why, and then corrected them as required.

"Around the year 2047, what was known as Europe, merged into a unified superpower called "European Nations". Each former country counted as a province. Countries such as Great Britain, Norway and Russia were excluded due to suspicions to not unify the current, or was not part of EN’s former name, "European Union". Internal struggles were kept behind curtains. Turkey, even if it was counted as part of Asian at that time, finally joined after years of disputes among EN-membercountries. With growing worries that the new nation held more power then the United States, support from Asian industries didn’t ease the relationship as Americans became more dependant on inexpensive wares. Learning from the north European Nations’ traders, "Scandinavians", Asian countries started to become aware of their power in business. Better working conditions were demanded from the American companies, since most of the important European Nation customers had already agreed. With chagrin or not, they never spoke through gritted teeth.", Steven said. Pictures of maps were displayed with the holographic projectors besides his face as he mentioned them.

Years after, Asian nations started to merge with Mideast and India forming I.R.H.A to create their own trading organisation. This made the other supernations, America, European Nations, Russia and Canada more dependant of them then before, prices escalated until this century with minor deflations. With new resources discovered later on, such as harnessing magnetism and effective fuel, balance was restored.

Temperature increased, a world war thwarted, energycrisis… and population changed, one tenth of the world’s population was in Africa where the war struck hardest. A choice of battlefield among commanders preserving their own land. Restoring the continent was expensive, deserts spreading fast made the northern-to mid northern parts inhabitable.

Maps were rewritten during this time, the choices were few… To make it flourish again the world leaders decided to sweep away the coast-countries, T2-Rockets were put in use again on full power. These underground diggermissiles detonated at three key points: Senegal, Camerun and Etiopia. Boats sank more elegantly. Using others more humane options would have taken two centuries to restore the deserts, if doubled speed was used. Land in southeast was expanded for the northern countries to live in. Plain-cruisers became the bearing pillars, due to their ability to camouflage as smaller islands, until proper ground was founded. This project was known as "Venice Duex" named after a floating city in the province Italy.

The term "Terra Forming" recieved a new definition during this project. Fifteen years of massive contributions created the new countries. Greenery was improved through genetics to grow in the famine-threatened countries with moderate success.

Oceania and South America were uneffected under this period.

Geography was unchanged until twenty years later when European Nations created a trust bond with I.R.H.A. provinces were traded to sign the contract. We were among those provinces."

Steven continued explaining how reactions during this period was crucial in triggering the unamed world war, on the outside each super nation had its cultural inner conflicts brewing, Great Britain’s swifting alliances and Russia’s overpopulation. The northen European Nation’s neverending dicussions about forming an independant trading nation.

The time was up for class before anyone knew it. Protests were few, but persistant. Things went better then yesterday.

At a storage bank a clock struck noon. The bank was crowded. Whispers turned into shouts in these halls. Each customer was greeted by a screen with a face, asking for their errand.

"Welcome to the Trustworth Bank, how can I be of service. State your name, errand and have your proper identification keys ready.", A robotic voice said.

Sarah shook her head and put away the hair, "Sa Rah, Wardrobe."

A blue light burst into her face, scanning every inch to find anything wrong.

"Identity confirmed, DNA-P matches, iris affirmative. Welcome… User "Sa Rah". Please have the other keys prepared."

The screen disappeared and the wall behind opened. Sarah stepped forward. It closed behind her. Infront of Sarah was an endless row of corridors with dim light supporting the customer. Each door had a small socket to insert the key, always shaped like a rectangle, and a sign with glistening red numbers, followed by two marks special to each door.

She stopped infront of door "552388-2 Diagonal triangel, hexagram". Sarah produced a key from her haircone. It was shaped like a five-edged star with three intersections, coated with a honey-yellow marble in the middle.

She inserted the key. The door hummed and clicking confirming the right key. Next Sarah was given a flute. It was simple in design, green with eight holes. The idea was that each vault had a melody unique to it, all other keys were simple to forge with the right connections.

Using one of many combinations, it proved to be more effective keeping thieves out. You had one chance blewing the instrument’s code before the vault’s lock was shut tight.

She pressed holes and started blewing the flute. Each finger moving accordingly to the melody, a two minute song about the sun.

Sarah recalled how the members of the beauty mask club, a therapy-group, berated her this morning for abusing every woman’s most precious gift: Her body.

The way she was living, "sporting" Sarah always said, has become a burden for the other members. They could accept small amounts of missuses, but this member was most diffcult to handle.

"We are slaves under our own beauty, we will always help our members overcoming it.", was the motto..

Slowly, the door opened, bathing Sarah in bright light.

She went in and closed the door. The interior was decorated modestly, cheap tapestry in green with red flowers and a grey floor. Two long rows of shoes were displayed along the walls. In the middle was a large wardrobe. It easily took half of the room’s space.

Sarah opened it. The door went aside revealing a large variation in expensive clothing.

"Hmm.. Teehee, what should I pick for this assignment. Perhaps a doctor? No, that wouldn’t work. Tried it too many times already. Plus it is suspicious in this city with doctors coming home on visits.", Sarah said. She threw out clothes as she went through the wardrobe. "Oh, maybe this! No one can deny entrance to a sentinel officer. It looks to shabby… Maybe this? Yes, yes! Businesswoman usually works. Add a little of that parfume I bought at the Pitar Market. No one can withstand that smell. Suspiciouness, bye-bye!"

Sarah took out the dress. It was black, along with a white shirt under. Spectacles for convincing. A fitting skirt, medium size. Finest quality in the human realm.

As she removed her dirty clothes from before, a letter dropped out from the jacket’s pocket.

Sarah was buttoning the shirt, the half-naked when she noticed something was lying on the floor.

"Huh? Hey, I didn’t knew I got letters from admirers this time of the day. Oh… It’s just her.", Sarah said.

The letter was titled from "Rune", to Mercenary Piercer:

", Dear eraser.

Your services are required at the writer’s behalf. The machina must be recovered in the name of the great book. Minor characters have started go out-of character. It is concerning the correctors. The antognists are surely aware of the situation. Seize the pearl for glory of the sacred book!

- Rune, of the Celestial Second Faculty.

P.S, your reward will be as of the contract."

Sarah read it twice before she reacted. "They may give great rewards, and yet they don’t have the time to make one simple letter! I mean, unless I knew how to read this I could aswell wonder if this was a joke. But Rune is Rune, never changes one thing that isn’t part of "the book". Things might get a bit complicated if the target is the same, but why should I care? It is not like they punish someone for working behind the curtains. We mercenaries are only grey pawns in their sandbox-struggle."

She finished buttoning the shirt and put on the skirt. The black jacket went on after inspection. A few wrinkles, nobody should notice unless they were very close upon her. Sarah picked out fitting shoes and adjusted the spectacles. The blonde hair was put in a formal style. The cone went into the wardrobe along with everything she had thrown before.

Sarah looked into the mirror on the inside of one of the doors.

Everything matched, a simple recon mission. Now the lucky hare was going to be found.

Thoughts went to how the extraction was going to be, Rune wanted the essence to be raw, Vulcanus preferred nurturing it before he recieved it. Both ways worked, even if the later was more effective since the host could be used more then once. A more profitable way for Sarah herself. The wardrobe was getting lonely with few new additions to it for the assigments as of lately… Her little "wardie" needed nurturiing aswell.

Going off the train at the Beiko station, Sarah smirked. The target shouldn’t be too hard to spot, especially with these spectacles. Tracking humans is a piece a cake when it points out with such accuracy. In case she encountered minor conflicts , she had a few surprises in store.

Walking on the station around on the roof gave off nothing in the spectacles. Sarah went down searching floor by floor. The trace became apparent, even if it was barely registered.

700,600, 500… The scanner skyrocketed! Sarah smiled, her teeth became visible.

"Five- zero two, hot. Five-zero six. Five-zero eight, almost burning hot. Five-twelve, Vulcanic activity. Say hello reward, mommy is coming!", Sarah said to herself. She knocked on the door for five minutes before someone answered.

"Who is it? Is that you John, have you found him!?", an old woman asked.

She sounded worried, a bit tired.

"No ma’m, this is Sarah... euhm..."

Sarah realised that she didn’t create an alias before knocking on the door. She reached inside a pocket and produced a card. Mumbled a few words and blew on it.

"Sarah who? I can’t recall I know someone just called Sarah. If you are a salesman, please leave."

"Wait a few seconds ma’m, temporary amnesia caused by long travels!"

Letters appeared on the card, "Sarah Pearson, -insert profession".

"Oh, yes! Now it came back. Sarah Pearson, travelling in business. May I speak with you?"

"Are you sure you feel alright? Perhaps you should come in for a cup of soup.", the old woman said.

Sarah laughed inside, it seemed the stuff worked.

They settled down in the livingroom. Sarah on a chair, the old woman in the sofa where a kid was sleeping under a red blanket with turnips on it.

"As you see, I do practice various professions as I visit new places.", Sarah said.

She flashed her card. Sarah asked her questions. The woman was obliginess.

"We are doing just fine, Steven, my son, helps us out with his work.", Martha said.

"Can I assume that the little sweet girl is his daughter?"

Sarah pointed at the girl who was waking up.

"Oh, no this is my daughter. Verwex helped us."

"You must be pretty young for your appearance, miss Dawson. They don’t accept just anyone from what I know."

"Would you like some of that soup I suggested miss Pearson?"

"Love to."

Martha went out to the kitchen. Sarah smiled.

"Teehee! That old lady was easy to trick. Back to work… The readings were right, but not in this room. None of the old lady and daughter gave off negative radiation. Is that John the target? Or, naughty boy Steven somewhere around? Perhaps the bathroom or bedroom? The hunt is the joy…", Sarah mumbled.

She looked at the sofa. No kid! This wasn’t good. The woman might take time if she uses those fifteen-minute soups, but the kid was there just a moment ago!

Sarah’s eyes darted around the room. Cold sweat, and no kid. Calm down, the kid must be hiding under the blanket. No worries. The hand trembled as it touched the blanket. The blanket dropped to the floor. No little girl hiding under. More sweat on the inside.

Sarah felt the sweat reaching the legs, almost like something was pulling her.

She looked down.

"Hi, what do old lady want? I’m Annie, who are you?", Annie said with a smile.

(Old?! I haven’t even celebrated a millenium yet!)

Sarah could feel how she bit hard on her lip.

"Why does old lady look like she must go poo-poo?"

"My name is miss Pearson, young lady!", Sarah said through gritted teeth.

She went down on her knees. "And I am just fine, just old spasms. Oh, do you happen to know where your dady or… eum, Steven is?"

Annie tilted her head, taking seconds as she looked like she was thinking really hard.

"Big brother was cranky this morning. When he saw me, he did something bad with me…"

She showed by putting her hands on her own neck and shook.

"I think he didn’t nap long enough. I hope big brother wasn’t too mad at me when he ran away from home..."

Sarah offered her lap. She pated Annie on the head. The little girl took the other arm and wrapped it around herself.

"I think so too, you shouldn’t worry anymore. I will talk with him myself...", Sarah said.

(Teehee, sucker! Now I only need to find the target and wrap things up. Kids can be so useful in a pinch.)

Annie nuzzled her bossom. Sarah looked down.

"Ok, chattime is over. Go back to blankie and sleep!", Sarah said.

She forced the kid to leave, with resistence from Annie’s side.

"You smell funny, miss Pearson."

"Do you like it? It was a very expensive parfume."

"It smells like carrots. I love carrots! But the yummy stuff is better..."

(Dairy?! That kid isn’t normal, this is suppose to like smell apple blossom in the spring to humans according to the Pitar merchant.)

"I am sure it does…", said Sarah. "Here, have a lollipop."

She reached inside her pocket and produced a greenish-red lollipop.

Annie took it and crawled back up the sofa and lay under the blanket; watching what Sarah did.

"Nothing to do but wait, tracking traces of him isn’t possible with this mini-bloodhound around. The sleep effect should work within seconds now.", Sarah told herself. Then the scavenger hunt starts!

Martha came in with soupcups on a tray. She gave one to Sarah and took the other herself.

"I see that you finally wake up properly, Annie. Did you sleep well?"

Annie nodded under the blanket, now drowsy.

"I hope she haven’t bothered you too much, miss Pearson. Drink your soup while it is still hot."

"Kids are kids, they never bother too much."

(When they are asleep, that is!)

The adults drank under silence. Annie went to her mother for comfort.

"I heard from your lovely", Sarah made a disgusted face on the inside, "daughter that your son… had a issue earlier this morning."

Martha dropped her mug; Sarah caught it before it hit the floor.

"I think you should leave, miss Pearson. It was nice of you visiting us. Good-bye!"

"Very well, it was nice meeting you too. But you should take this card, afterall I am an educated psychologist. Everyone needs one when something like that happens. Issues can only be worked out by facing them. Good-bye, miss Dawson!"

Sarah gave her the card and went off.

She had a wicked smile on her lips as the door closed.

It felt better as the day went on until Steven was going home, anxienty grew as he waited on the magnet train 2.30 pm. Steven decided to take a different one ready to leave in the opposite direction.

As the magnet train went on, he tapped his bracelet only to find out that he had one letter. It was from that girl yesterday. Steven decided to ignore it.

Steven leaned towards the railing. It was nice for a rooftop park. White sofas, lights; and greenery covering the grounds. People were walking or sitting and laughing in the grass.

It had a cleansing touch. Another day at work finished. Things would work with this approach. Telling them was a later issue that he had changed profession. Lower salary, cutting down his needs were necessary to balance things out.

"Took time…", a voice said.

"And how did you…", Steven said.

"You liked this spot. Unused for months, isn’t it?"

It was his father, John Dawson. He stood beside him probably minutes without revealing his presence.

"Spying isn’t like you, John."

"A father knows without telling. Martha... devastated. You were reckless, Steven."

"Don’t know what you are talking about, nothing happened today."

"Still around… the Dawson’s curse.", said John.

"The myth created by grandfather? Only rubbish from an old man."

"My father... Jim was telling the truth."

Steven was sceptical, afterall the old man passed over his safety limit years ago, being more then a hundred years old. They had barely met when Steven was still young, eight years old. His sister was twelve. Old man Jim had told them about madness, that of a forbidden word, have haunted the family for about five hundred years. Madness beyond logic happened bloodrelatives to the Dawsons. It was said to be briefly, but madness made it possible to be stronger then ten men. The "legacy" could be traced back to the fourteenth century, the first documention for the Dawsons.

Supressing feelings was neccessary Jim told them. Small outbrusts were acceptable to avoid the big ones. It always first appeared when the bloodrelative was young, the time when energy was building.

"Don’t remember?", John said.

"What happened that never occured?", Steven said.

"Once again, we talk about this... for everyones’ sake. What happened, can’t be reversed. They said you were not at the company, why?"

"It was their fault. They choose not to listen. I changed profession… "educationeer"."

"You shouldn’t have done that, pride is a sin…"

"Abolished years ago," Steven corrected "Religion and faith are obstacles. History proved that."

They became silent. Wind blew as they gazed into nothingness.

This wasn’t leading anywhere, talking with John made nothing better.

The profession delayed paying off the debt for some time, nonethless he didn’t have to put up with the chief.

John looked at him.

"Your day?", John asked.

"Fine. Nothing happened.", Steven said.

"Martha… told otherwise."

" Nothing happened. Enlighten me!"

"Jumped at your sister, bluish. Martha called when I was out."

"She has been dead for years. You can’t jump at something lying in the grave!"

Steven grasped his father’s shirt.

"And what were you doing outside?", Steven said.

"Happened afterall, didn’t it? Martha felt your burden. The loan… and that girl. We agreed to cloning... at our age…", John said. He removed Steven’s hands. "You two… inseparable."

"You are aware that it costs more then we can pay back in one lifetime? Our credits together wouldn’t match the first half. Ghosts should stay in their graves. ", Steven said. His voice was raising. "Always hiding truth between your emptiness in words, John. Always."

"What happened… never dealt with. We saw it uneccessary at the time.", John said.

"And resurrecting it with cloning helps? "What happened, can’t be reversed.", Your own words. Let it be buried for eternity. Clones are only puppets without identity, copies of life."

"Condeming without facts… ", John said. He put his hand on his forhead.

"What can there be to know about them. Current surgeon technology gives similar results, pay someone to dress up like a dead person. Genetics, prints and eyes. Everything can be copied at precision, apart from human memories. The last defense among human-traits, which can’t be bought for fortunes."

"False, memories are… as precious now. Your sister, a living proof."

"Impossible, copying a mind to the fullest can’t be done!"

"Denial yields nothing. Come home, new start… Control yourself this time."