The Intruder

“But what are the chances of –”

“Someone breaking into the house? Less than zero now, I hope.”

“You’re not –”

“Making any sense? I know, but you’ve got to trust me, Mark.”

“How do you –”

“Keep doing that? We’ve had this conversation before. Well, I’ve had it before. Technically, this is the first time you’re experiencing it.” He patted Mark on the shoulder and stepped past him to the broad windows overlooking the front yard. No one in sight.

Mark was frozen on the spot. The tie Seth had bought him for their five-year wedding anniversary – blue with gray sailboats – dangled limply through his fingers.

“What’s this really about?” he asked, as Seth crossed the room to check the alarm for the dozenth time. He’d changed the code twice in the past hour. “We’ve had this reservation for weeks.”

“We can go out another –”

Something thudded from inside the house.

The two men jumped. A second later, Seth was racing down the hall towards the noise, Mark in close pursuit. He skidded to a stop as he approached the door to the basement. The sound seemed to have emanated from its depths.

“Wait!” Seth seized Mark’s wrist as the latter reached for the door. “This is a trap.”

His husband goggled at him, but Seth was already pulling him back down the hall, towards the corner bedroom they had converted into a home office. Seth’s eyes swept the room, landing first on the safe tucked behind his desk. He locked the office door behind them and grabbed Mark’s shoulders.

“Listen to me,” he whispered. “They’re going to try to get us away from the safe.”

Mark’s eyes were huge, pale disks in the gloom. He opened his mouth, but Seth cut across him. “Trust me. It’s happened twice already. I’m not letting them get away with it a third time.”

“But who – but what’s going on?” Seth’s grip slackened. Guilt washed over him in powerful waves. He took a breath; when he next spoke, his voice had softened considerably.

“I don’t know who. Someone from work, maybe. Only a few people know about the Kronos project.” He saw the question bloom in Mark’s eyes and sighed.

Mark deserved to know the truth.

“In two weeks,” he began. “Our lives will –”

A rock sailed through the window.

Shattered glass exploded everywhere, bouncing across the floor in jagged shards. Mark cried out, ducking with his arms over his head. A chill wind whistled through the broken panes, scattering loose documents from the desk. Seth hurried over to the window. He half expected to see a face on the other side of the glass. A dark figure ready to force entry into the house. None appeared. Instead, he stared out at the moon-silvered trees, and wondered if, unknown to him, someone was staring back.

Mark let out a whimper.

“My phone. Where did my phone go?” He was pawing frantically at his pockets.

“They’ll have hidden it.” Seth scowled at the window one last time before crouching in front of the safe. They had tried to hold their ground before. It was time for a new plan. His fingers hovered over the lock.

“Seth? What have you done?”

Seth sighed and slouched forward, his forehead resting on the safe. He stared at its metal surface, as if his eyes could bore through to its center. To the thing that started it all.

“In two weeks,” he began again, “I’ll be fired for mismanagement of company data…my career, my reputation, our financial stability will be ruined.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Two weeks after that, Sterne Technologies will go under. They won’t be able to survive the scandal. The public will get hold of any records that haven’t already been destroyed, and the ethical ramifications of the company’s research – of my research – will be scrutinized and condemned by the public.” He raised his head to meet Mark’s inscrutable expression. A bone-deep weariness was coating his limbs. “I can’t let them steal my life’s work.”

Mark blinked. “You actually did it. You found out how to…” His gaze drifted to the safe. “How many times have they broken in?”

“Twice.”

“You’re an idiot, Seth.”

“Twice.”

“So what’s the plan now?” asked Mark, starting to pace around the room. Glass crunched beneath his feet.

Seth began rotating the safe’s combination lock. “We get out of here. Grab the car and go.”

The safe clicked open. From inside, he withdrew a battered briefcase. “Ready?” he asked Mark, who gave a curt nod and cracked opened the door. A wall of black greeted them on the other side. Slowly and carefully, the crept down the length of the darkened hall, breaking into a run as they neared the kitchen.

“Where’d you put the keys?” Seth whispered.

“In the little dish on the counter.” Seth reached blindly across the cool granite. His fingers brushed rough ceramic and he swiped for the car keys.

The bowl was empty.

“Come on…” Seth groaned. His hands scrabbled across the countertop, searching for the missing keys. Panic knifed through his chest. Had they been taken too?

“Maybe I left them on the hook by the garage?” Mark sounded doubtful, but Seth latched onto the idea at once.

“Let’s take a look.”

They shuffled deeper into the house, passing the basement. Its door shone ghostly white in the gloom. Seth’s senses strained to detect the slightest hint of danger. He had the horrible feeling that he had missed something important – some crucial hint or warning. The house’s thick silence fell unnaturally on his ears.

Mark stopped.

They’re not here either,” he croaked. “The keys.”

They stood frozen in the too still house, and suddenly the missing detail niggling at Seth’s brain clunked into place.

He turned to Mark.

And then an unexpected jangle of keys drifted from a distant corner of the house. Seth clutched the briefcase to his chest and spun to face the long stretch of hallway. He thought he could see a shape moving towards them – an outline comprised of a different kind of darkness.

Again, that soft clinking of metal sounded, closer now than before.

Mark curled a hand protectively over Seth’s shoulder.

Then, at the end of the hall, a masked face swam up from the blackness. It was followed by a darkly clad, masculine figure, gloved and heavily booted. The car keys twirled from the end of one finger.

Only the man’s eyes were visible through his mask. They gleamed, hardened and hungry. Then they snapped to the briefcase clutched in Seth’s sweating hand.

With a muffled roar, the intruder charged forward. Seth barely had time to react before the strong body crashed into him, sending them both toppling to the ground. The briefcase skidded across the floor, and the masked man made a lunge for it. Seth seized the man’s arm and slammed it against the wall, pinning it in place. All the air was being squeezed slowly from his lungs as he fought to throw off the attacker, but he was overwhelmed by the flail of limbs, the pain of a knee driven into his stomach. He swung blindly at the masked face, only to have his head slammed back against the floor.

There was a rush of footsteps behind him, followed by a swift thud. Suddenly, the crushing weight was lifted from Seth’s chest. He rolled over and pushed himself back onto his feet, gasping for breath and shaking. The intruder had been knocked sideways, howling in pain. Mark stood over him, the briefcase raised overhead. He brought it down in another vicious swing.

The writhing figure on the ground kicked out. Mark staggered with a grunt of pain, and the intruder seized his chance. He and Mark collided – Mark struggling to hold onto the briefcase, the masked man attempting to wrest it from his grip.

Locked in their struggle, the two men did not notice the door to the basement gliding open behind them. From his position, Seth had a clear view of the black entrance materializing amongst the bone white walls, of the long fingers curling around the side of the door.

A second masked figure had stepped out from the basement. By the time Seth cried out a warning to Mark, the newcomer had thrown himself in the middle of the fray.

“No! Mark!” Seth dashed forward, ready to draw the second intruder away. Then his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

The second intruder had not gone for Mark, but for the other masked man. The two were locked together, the briefcase tugged from one side then the other. Mark was sprawled on the floor, watching with his mouth ajar.

And Seth finally understood.

The house’s oppressive silence had felt wrong because the alarm should have gone off the moment that rock hit the window. The two men entangled before him could not overpower one another, because they were equal in strength. Seth’s repeated failure to stop the intruders was not due to bad luck, rather his inability to deceive himself.

He stopped to help a panting Mark to his feet, clasping one hand briefly in both of his own, before stepping towards the brawling men and shouting: “SETH! STOP!”

The cry wrenched the men apart like a physical force. They stared at Seth, chests heaving. The briefcase was still clutched between their gloved hands. He took advantage of their shock, stepping between them and yanking the briefcase out of their grips.

“You know?” The voice issued from the man on the left. Though it was muffled through the mask, Seth recognized it at once as his own.

“I know.”

The man on the right tensed. So did Mark, eye blackened and lip swollen, but ready for another round. Seth held out an arm. Speaking to the masked man, he said, “I’ll give this back to you, but I want to know what you’re both doing here first.”

The man on the left pulled off his mask. His hair was graying at the temples and his face was lined, but it was unmistakably an older Seth. Mark swayed where he stood.

“I know you think you’re saving your future,” he said, eyes shining, “but the contents of that briefcase have to be destroyed.”

The present-day Seth’s hands tightened reflexively over the briefcase.

“Why?” he asked, a plaintive edge to his voice. “This is what we’ve devoted our lives to. This research will change the world.”

The older Seth shook his head. “Not in a good way. I’ve seen it. I’m living it. All we’ve managed to do is weaponize time.” He almost spat the last sentence, his face pained and gray. “We can never let anyone know we found a way to make the Kronos project a reality. You have no idea the destruction it will –”

“Hang on,” barked the man on the right. He tugged loose the mask and a third Seth – perhaps five years older than the Seth holding the briefcase – appeared before them. “We can’t destroy those documents without anyone knowing. We need the scandal, the questions…Sterne Technologies isn’t the only company researching this! If we scare the public early, we can get the proper regulations in place –”

“There are no proper regulations,” older Seth retorted. “Time travel is too dangerous – too massive for us to control.”

“We have a daughter,” middle Seth interrupted, turning to present-day Seth. “Mark and I decided to adopt after I was fired, and she’s…she’s perfect. You think becoming a father will be anywhere on your mind when you’re embroiled in legal battles for destroying those documents? Think of what you’d be giving up for the sake of becoming a martyr!”

Seth clutched the briefcase more tightly to his chest and took a step back as the two men advanced. His mind was racing. The paths before him laid out a staggering number of possibilities. Which one was right? Which one was best?

He looked at Mark and felt anchored by the love and concern he saw there.

“Give Mark the keys,” he said.

The two other Seths looked bewildered. Then the one on the right withdrew them from his pocket. He tossed them to Mark.

“I’m leaving this here,” Seth said, raising the briefcase. “But Mark and I are going. I expect you only have a few hours left in our timeline anyway before the nausea and headaches get too bad.”

The two Seths winced.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked quietly.

Seth smiled at him. “I’m done knowing our future.” He turned to the two older versions of himself. Whatever happened next would be up to them.

He flung the briefcase. It sailed over their heads and landed down the hall. At once, the unmasked Seths were after it, shoving each other as they raced away. The sounds of renewed scuffling echoed down the hall.

“Let’s go for a drive,” the present-day Seth told Mark.

He reached out a hand. Together, they stepped out of the house. Seth was not dwelling on the unknown future; of the days and weeks stretching before them like a vague promise. He was only thinking of the cool night air washing over his face. Of the feeling of Mark’s hand, warm and reassuring in his own.

* * *