1:5:6 Agreements (Part 3)

The old city roads had once been cobbled but the millennia of wear had flattened the stones; those who flattened the stones appeared to be missing, similar to the rest of Tarrquu. They walked down the winding roads, following the holographic scan of the visitor map. It was clear that Quatarrian construction methods had changed over the years. While the new city’s architecture had a sleek and minimalistic, the old city’s was in thematic juxtaposition; sharp lines, looming windows, reminiscent of Earth’s gothic style. For their age, they were remarkably well maintained, the white bones that supported the red brickwork walls remained as pearly as the day they were first installed. Char led them towards the centre before veering off to a side alley; the road started to slope downwards before forming a spiral ramp into the U-Rail system. The plain grey walls of the ramp transitioned to white and copper tile as they reached the bottom. The ruby red floor was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting those walking upon its surface. After clearing the entrance, they saw an apparent rarity: other people. It seemed as though the entire population of Tarrquu had decided that they had wanted to use the U-Rail at the same time, cramping the already impractically small tunnels. Lore and Char joined the crowd as they were funnelled into the switching station ahead. The heat, the noise, the sudden increase in both was getting to them. Lore’s mind started racing, their feet developed a will to follow it. They tried to stabilise themselves with a deep breath and, for a moment, it helped but they started to spiral once again as they noticed the spectral figure was still behind them. The overstuffed tube seemed endless and the crowd had all but stopped. Gridlocked, they edged forward, not knowing if the cramping would be relieved. It happened suddenly, but, eventually, the space opened up. The ceiling stretched about as far as it could without disturbing the buildings above ground, the walls were similarly distant making the room feel endless yet, with the knowledge of the city above, strangely enclosed; the room had a weight to it that it would not have, had it been above ground. The crowd thinned allowing them to move around more freely but still Lore felt on edge. Char ushered Lore to another tourist information sign but they seemed preoccupied, looking at something else. They started to wander.
“Lore!” Her voice cut through the crowd as if it weren’t there. “Get back!”
Lore dawdled over to her, glancing back over their shoulder as they did.

They tried to focus on what Char was saying but they found themselves overwhelmed; the sounds the smells, the cramping of the station coupled with the stress of their mission made it nearly impossible. Their vision split and somehow, so did Char’s voice. The words left her mouth again and again, echoing and overlapping as they did.
“Which way do you want to go?” Char continued to speak even after her mouth stopped moving; each time she asked the question, her intonation and delivery differed slightly.
Lore dug their hand into their pocket and removed their Sonics. The world quietened and became a bit more bearable with them in. Char smiled and squeezed Lore’s hands.
“Sorry. I didn’t think.” Her voice pierced the crowd, as if they were the only two people in the station.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” They reassured her. “I think we should risk the archives.” They pointed to it on the map, again, the label translated itself. “I’ve got a feeling.”
“Then that’s where we’ll go.” Char held out her hand for them. “Ready?”
Lore took it. “Ready.”
They walked towards the platform; the closer they got, the thinner the crowd became until there were only a dozen other travellers walking with them. The carriage tore past them, bringing with it an intense gust of wind. It came to a stop in an instant, its doors opened ready to accept its awaiting passengers. Lore and Char boarded, easily finding seats in the near empty carriage. They slid themselves into a booth, sitting either side of a table.
“Mustn’t be a popular destination.” Char joked.
“Didn’t you say that special clearance was needed to get in?” Lore looked around. While the spectre still stalked them, something else caught their eye. “Hmm.”
“Something wrong?” Char tried to see whatever Lore was looking at.
“They keep looking at us.” Lore paused. “I think they know… Or at least they suspect something.”
“We’ll see.” Char crossed her fingers below the table that separated them.
The carriage was pleasantly cool; it made Lore realise just how uncomfortably warm the rest of the station had been. They tried to enjoy the silence but the wandering eyes of suspicion they found themselves under made that difficult.
“They know we’re not supposed to be here. How long is it until the museum?” Lore tried to make themselves smaller and less visible.
“It’s only a few minutes.” Char glanced around. “I’m sure they know. Westerner’s are creatures of habit; they likely know everyone who’s supposed to be on this train, past, present and future.” She nodded to one of the other passengers. “As long as they don’t say anything, I’d say we’re still okay.” Char shrugged. “I mean it doesn’t help that you’re not exactly the most Quatarrian looking individual.”
“Not too many aliens on Quatarr then?” Lore adjusted their position on their seat to stop their belt digging into their back. Their shifting revealed a mass in the small of their back which they tried to remove by grinding it against the chair; finding the task impossible, they put their hand to work to clear the obstacle. A small, leatherette cylinder, once held to their belt via a magnet had been the culprit. “Oh.” They opened it up, revealing their staff, compressed and combat ready. “I had totally forgotten about that.” They found a more comfortable position for it and secured it back to their belt before sitting back in their seat. Although now physically comfortable, Lore couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort they had been feeling since they boarded.
“We’ve not really had any non-Quatarrians around since the war. We told the other planets in The Empire to recall their ambassadors, empty their embassies and return home. Quatarr was declared off limits. The other planets were ordered to keep their Quatarrian diplomats to act as prefects in the absence of guidance from proper channels.” Char shook her head. “Keep the colonies Quatarrian is what my mother used to say.” She checked her teleporter. “The war’s obviously not long over so it makes sense that they’ve not really returned yet.”
Lore nodded. “You don’t really talk about your mother. Do you remember much about her?”
Char sighed. “Perhaps too much. Putting it lightly, she was a right piece of work. She’s the reason the original me got this.” She tapped her implant. “She’s the reason the original me became a medic. They were happy being a surgeon, working behind the front lines to train new doctors and keep the hospitals running but she wanted them fighting so they retrained as a combat medic.” She paused. “Still, I suppose she’s not really my mother so that’s a bonus.”
The two joined the rest of the carriage in their silence as they neared The Museum.

The carriage came to a gradual halt, stopping gently just inside of Tarr’Zendwr’s lower station. Lore and Char waited as the other occupants alighted before making their move. They were so close to their goal but one obstacle stood between it and them; the sense of foreboding Lore had felt since they sat down on the train made itself known in the form of a security checkpoint.
“That explains why no-one stopped us.” Char felt Lore squeeze her hand. “We’ll be okay… And if not… I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. It always seems to.”
“I’m not sure this time.” Without turning, Lore glanced back over their shoulder. The figure still persisted.
The checkpoint consisted of a full body scanner and a guard wielding some kind of handheld device, connected to their implant. One of their fellow passengers crossed the checkpoint first. The scanner flashed green as they crossed over the threshold, the guard nodded and gestured for them to continue. There were a few people ahead of them, giving Lore’s mind time to race, planning alternative routes or potential outcomes; ideas virtually poured from every wrinkle and crevice of their mind, dampening their poised feet. They moved forward, their window of opportunity closing. Char started through the checkpoint. It flashed green as it had all the times before her but this time, the guard’s tune changed.
“Hold here please.” They held their palm up to signal her to stop before ushering her off to one side. Heads turned immediately. “I am going to have to scan you. You may consent to this or face immediate ejection from the museum and its associated premises.” They appeared to be reading off of a printed card.
“I consent.” Char nodded.
As the words left her mouth, a second officer appeared and took over the checkpoint. “Next.”
Time felt as though it had slowed to a crawl as Lore apprehensively entered the scanner.
“Off you go.” The guard smiled to them. “Enjoy your stay!”

They lingered just after the checkpoint. Five minutes became ten became fifteen and there was still no sight of Char. Lore paced, becoming increasingly anxious under their concentrated visage. They bounced from one wall to another only stopping when a new surface interrupted them.
“My apologies.” One of the checkpoint guards started walking them over to one of the corridors walls. The guard spoke with a refined accent somewhere between British received pronunciation and their native Quatarrian resulting in a tone of perfect authority. “Is this your first time to The Museum? Are you lost?”
Lore waited a moment before responding. The guard’s words had been heard but their brain needed a moment to parse out what they had meant. Just as The guard was about to restate their question, Lore gave their answer. “I’m just waiting for my friend.” They looked around the corner. “There isn’t anywhere to sit.”
The guard chuckled. “I’m afraid not. This is not the exhibit so why would it need chairs?” The guard’s smile faded into a more serious glare. “You should enjoy The Museum. Your friend may be a while. It is important to ensure all visitors are properly cleared for entry.” The guard called over one of their associates. “Bringynd Sieyn ins’Tarr’Zendwr. Cadhalten Sieyn im Nhwge.” The second guard nodded before directing Lore into the museum.