Time Traveller. Epilogue. The Caches. The Portal

 - For heaven’s sake, man, how many of you are there, after all? Do you all look like this?

- We are a group of clones from the same original DNA. That’s why we look so much alike. We were thirteen… in principle…

- Oh, my sweet Lord!

The three friends looked at each other. Was History repeating itself… in the future? Or were they just playing it over and over again?

- What are these false ‘caches’, after all? They are certainly parts that match together, as far as we could find out.

The sudden change in the subject was more than welcome.

- Yes, they are. They are two parts of a single portal, placed separately, on purpose. They were not supposed to be used by anyone but the messenger… Me, in this case… They were left here for one specific purpose: the mission, I have come for, as you might have noticed already.

The three friends were not surprised at all. That conversation developed as an interesting series of mysteries unsolved, soon to be explained.

***

- The past, as well as the future, belong in where and when they are originally. They must neither be touched, nor changed, in any way. That’s a sacred rule and ought to be respected, above everything and all other existing laws, otherwise an unlimited chaos is the result. When there is a risk that this decree is being broken, the only way to interfere is to use a subterfuge.

- Oblivion…

- That’s correct. And then the portal to that opportunity is closed, so it will never arise or open again.

- How?

- It is completely destroyed at once.

- But there can be others…

- Time portals are not open unless there is a reason… And only the council and the Supreme can authorize the creation and opening of a new one. There must be a very good reason to come back to the past and the traveller must always come back using the same means.

- And there is a reason, right now, I guess.

- Yes. There is a reason… a good reason…

Anticipation was stamped on the three men’s faces. The traveller looked straight at the pale skinned man.

- There is a very good reason, indeed!

***

- I was sent here, by the scientists, to look for and take you back to the future, where you really belong in. It was not easy to find you, as I thought it would be when I arrived…  I have left some clues, but they’ve never been used. It seems, however, that someone else might have found them and started looking for the pieces that were prudently placed apart from each other.

- I read a post that there was supposedly a false geocache in the lighthouse…

- And I saw the one about the mill.

- Someone else must have read about them and wanted to verify what they were all about.

- I don’t think it was an innocent search. These people know what they are looking for.

- And that is…?

- Let’s get out of here. I’ll explain everything on the way.

***

- When you were sent back to the past, there was… there will be… whatever… a rumour about your presence there. Some say you’ve saved the future of humanity, some say you brought a critical suspicion about the intentions our Supreme Chief had about the planet itself.

- Maybe both things…

The man with pale skin spoke with a tone of voice that was very grave.

- And what do they say about the vaccine?

- The vaccine works well. Everything is under control.

- Well, it seems the voyage was worthwhile, after all.

- It looks like it, indeed.

The young man wearing glasses looked at the three men. He caught a glimpse of a strange gaze amongst the other three men. They did not seem to be very comfortable with the subject.

- What was that?

- What do you mean? What was what?

- You three are hiding something from me, aren’t you? What happened?

The stranger looked at the friends, as if waiting for a clue on what to say.

- He knows about the use of Oblivion and that it was obviously an ingredient added in the capsule before he was sent back to your past, that is, our present.

- Then it’s more than time for the truth.

***

- But why?

- They sensed you were going to break the most sacred universal rule.

- Did I do anything wrong?

- Not really. You just told Leona that the Supreme would explode the planet.

- Oh. And does it make any sense? Would he do something like that?

- Not likely, I guess. He cannot do that without the approval of the whole council.

The pale skinned man and the young man spoke at the same time:

- But he will!

- What?

- He will definitely destroy the planet.

- When? Why? How will he do that and how can you be so sure?

- That was how I landed here in this time and space, in a capsule that was sent on a trip back to the past, at the moment the planet exploded. He sent me here… And I did not come here alone…

***

- What do these people want?

- They are evil, rich and they control one of the most powerful Pharmaceutical Industries that  rule over the present and probably the future of mankind. They killed the other passenger. If they get access to the portal, they will have even more power and they can change the things in the future and past… or at any time… They would transform this world in complete chaos.

- We need to act immediately. We will be protected in the woods…

- So, what is the plan?

- We need to reach the facilities before the Supreme gets what he wants. Otherwise we will be lost in the middle of nothing, as well as the planet, which will be completely blown to ashes and cosmic dust.

- What if we get there too late?

- They are waiting for us. It will not be too late… Maybe late, but not too late… We got to talk to Leona, or her father… or both…

- First the scientists… Leona used the Oblivion against him, remember?

He pointed to the man wearing glasses.

- She is too faithful to the Supreme… she must be convinced first, and we have little time.

- What if you fail?

- Then our fate is sealed. But we must try. It is our only chance.

The four men got into the woods and found a small clearing where they put the two parts of the portal together and, with a key that was brought by the traveller, a curious door opened, as if by magic. The difference was that the magic was pure science, not yet available in the present time. That technology in the wrong hands would be a disaster to the world.

The two clones, similar in appearance and purpose, turned to the two young men and got ready to depart.

- We have little time. We better go. You will be OK.

The sound of a car stopping and the quick steps running closer put everyone in state of alert.

- Quick. Go!

They made it to the portal, running and without a proper goodbye. The gateway closed immediately as they crossed it. The young men ran away to the opposite direction, hidden by the trees and grasses, while two men dressed in black got to the clearing a fraction of a second too late.

- Fuck! We missed it! We are in big, big trouble now! The director is going to kill us.

- Let’s go back! We must report it immediately!

***

- Do you think they got there in time?

- I guess we will never know, will we?

- Probably not. I would like to think they fixed the things properly.

- Not an easy task, however… but worth the try…

- What do we do now?

- We go back home… There is nothing we can do about those things anymore… I read about a cache hidden in the other lighthouse… we must stop there and check it.

The young man wearing glasses opened his eyes wide.

- You must be kidding me! I want to be away from caches…for a time… Let’s just go back home!

The two men got in the Jeep. The night was falling slowly. The red light flickered in the lighthouse, when they drove past, as if blinking invitingly to them.

***

Viajante do Tempo. Parte 3. O Moinho. Os Geocaches. Encontros.

  

O policial segurava, firmemente, o braço do jovem de óculos. O homem que eles presumiram ser da empresa de segurança estava ao seu lado.

 

- O que você faz aqui?

 

- O mesmo que todas essas pessoas. Estou curioso sobre o que aconteceu por aqui.

 

- Eu conheço você. Tenho certeza de que já o vi antes.

 

O homem de óculos fingiu ser apenas um turista e rejeitou a afirmação do segurança.

 

- Não é possível. Eu não sou daqui. Estou apenas passando o dia na praia. O moinho foi roubado?

 

- Acha que é engraçado?

 

- Nem um pouco, senhor. Todavia, numa aldeia pequena como esta, até um roubo é um grande acontecimento, sabe?

 

- Achei que havia dito que não era da região.

 

- E não sou. Mas é fácil chegar à esta conclusão, não?

 

- Deixe que eu cuido dele.

 

O segurança agarrou o braço do jovem, com um aperto tão forte, que parecia uma poderosa garra.

 

- Ei, me solta. Eu não fiz nada!

 

Ele falou em voz alta e isso fez com que as pessoas que estavam por perto virassem a cabeça na direção de onde vinha o conflito. Olhando em volta, ele viu seus dois amigos se aproximando, prontos para ajudar. Ele balançou a cabeça, desencorajando-os. Eles logo perceberam a mensagem e se afastaram, observando de uma distância segura, junto com os demais moradores, que começaram a formar um círculo ao redor deles.

 

O segurança, evidentemente maior e mais forte, tentou puxar o jovem para longe, sob óbvio e ruidoso protesto, atraindo, mais atenção para eles do que antes. A pequena multidão logo cercou completamente os três personagens, que estavam naquela discussão, cada vez mais acalorada.

 

O moinho, cuja porta havia sido arrombada, fora esquecido por um ou dois minutos.

 

Era uma oportunidade a ser aproveitada, antes que alguém voltasse a lembrar do acontecimento. O homem de pele muito pálida entrou no prédio e subiu os degraus, até o andar superior. Poucos minutos depois, descia as escadas, quase despercebido e saía pela porta aberta e completamente esquecida.

 

***

 

- Foi uma jogada insana, mas muito corajosa.

 

- Eu tenho de concordar contigo. Eu não poderia deixar aquela oportunidade ser desperdiçada. Não seria justo, depois de todo o trabalho que tivemos.

 

- Verdade!

 

- Vamos. Precisamos ajudar nosso amigo, agora.

 

- Conseguiste alguma coisa lá de cima, afinal?

 

O homem de pele pálida sorriu recatadamente.

 

- Falaremos sobre isso mais tarde. Vamos ajudar nosso amigo. Tenho um argumento bom e convincente. Se eles quiserem levar um, terão de levar todos nós. Vamos fazer a multidão entrar nisso connosco e trazê-los para o nosso lado.

 

- Tu és absolutamente louco, meu amigo, mas essa é uma ótima ideia!

 

Em meio à toda aquela turbulência, a estratégia funcionou e a pequena multidão não permitiu que a polícia e o segurança levassem o jovem de óculos com eles e ele foi logo liberado. Mas os dois homens não ficaram nem um pouco felizes.

 

Temendo pela própria segurança, os três amigos saíram o mais prontamente possível. Ainda havia muita coisa a ser resolvida e eles precisavam agir imediatamente.

 

***

 

O jipe contornou a rotunda e rumou para a saída à direita. Estavam de volta à A28, em direção ao sul.

 

- Eles não estariam lá sem motivo algum. A ação foi muito imediata…

 

- Foi o que eu pensei.

 

- Esse incidente apenas confirmou minhas suspeitas.

 

- Ainda falta uma peça nesta história ...

 

- Sim. O homem de fato de treino escuro, com capuz...

 

- O que ele quer, nós meio que já sabemos... O que precisamos perceber é quem ele é e o que sabe...

 

- E se ele é amigo ou inimigo...

 

- Uma coisa é verdade: estamos um passo à frente dele, ainda... Mas precisamos visitar aquele farol, novamente, na cidade... E tem de ser imediatamente!

 

Os dois amigos olharam para o homem de pele pálida, que segurava, nas próprias mãos, o falso "geocache", que havia retirado do moinho.

 

***

 

- Essa não! O que pode ter acontecido aqui? Eu não consigo mais encontrar. Onde é que foi parar?

 

- O que? Como assim, não consegue mais encontrar?

 

- Acho que sei o que pode ter acontecido. Eu me pergunto se...

 

- Achas que ele chegou aqui antes de nós?

 

- Sim, eu acho.

 

- E o que vamos fazer agora?

 

- Não sei, mas se ele ainda não percebeu, logo descobrirá que nós temos a outra peça desse ‘puzzle’ e talvez chegue à sensata conclusão de que precisaremos trabalhar juntos, caso contrário outra pessoa pode...

 

- Tu não podes estar a falar sério. Ele não é um amigo, pelo que pudemos perceber.

 

- Não sabemos ainda ...

 

- Então o que ele é? Quem ele é?

 

- Pense comigo: se ele fugiu da polícia e do segurança, daquele jeito, ele não é nosso inimigo, de jeito nenhum...

 

- Bem, ele invadiu o moinho, não foi? Isso não é um procedimento nada inocente. Ele sabia exatamente o que estava fazendo.

 

- Temos de encontrar aquele homem e obter algumas respostas, para todas essas perguntas.

 

- Mas como? Como podemos encontrá-lo, no meio desta cidade? Não temos ideia de onde ele está e nem como entrar em contato com ele...

 

- Precisamos achar uma maneira. Eu me pergunto se há um jeito de nos comunicarmos... Ele pode não estar longe de nós... daqui... disso tudo...

 

- Vocês estão certos!

 

Os três homens se viraram, ao mesmo tempo. Um homem, vestindo um fato de treino escuro e com capuz estava parado à porta do farol. Seu rosto estava na sombra.

 

- Esse 'cache' não está mais aí, como vocês já devem ter percebido, com certeza. Eu estava esperando por vocês!

 

- O quê?

 

- Não vai ser eficaz lutarmos um contra o outro. Não faz sentido. Temos de trabalhar juntos e rápido. Essas pessoas são perigosas e querem o mesmo que nós, mas com uma intenção diferente. E eles estão cada vez mais perto...

 

- E quem és tu, oh, caral... quer dizer, quem diabos é você?

 

O homem baixou o capuz e descobriu, totalmente, a cabeça. Os três amigos ficaram pasmos.

 

- Como isso pode ser possível?

 

***

Time Traveller. Part 3. The Mill. The Caches. Encounters.

The police officer did not let go his grasp from the young man’s arm. The man who they assumed was from the security company was on his side.

- What are you doing here?

- The same as all these people. Being curious about what has happened.

- I know you. I have seen you before, I’m sure.

The man wearing glasses pretended he was just a tourist and dismissed the security man’s affirmation.

- It’s not possible. I’m not from here. I’m just spending the day at the beach. Was the mill broken into?

- Don’t try to be funny, young man.

- I’m not trying, officer. In a small village like this, even a robbery is a big event, you know.

- I thought you said you were not from the region.

- It’s easy to guess, isn’t it?

- I’ll take care of him.

The security guard grabbed the young man’s arm with a grip that felt as strong as a powerful claw.

- Hey, let go of me. I did nothing.

He spoke out loud and that made the people in the area turn their heads to their direction. He then looked around and saw his two friends coming closer, ready to take action and help. He shook his head, discouragingly. They understood the message and stayed away, observing from a safe distance, together with the other locals, who started circling around them.

The evidently bigger and stronger man tried to pull the young man away, under protest, attracting even more attention to them than before. The small crowd soon completely surrounded the three characters who were in that increasingly heated argument.

The burgled mill itself had been forgotten for a minute or two.

That was an opportunity to be taken advantage, before anyone would notice it, so the pale man slipped into the building and climbed the steps to the upper floor. A few minutes later he came back downstairs, almost unnoticed and left through the unattended open door.

***

- That was an insane but very brave move.

- I have to agree. I could not leave that chance untaken. It would not be fair, after all this trouble.

- True!

- Come on. We need to help him now.

- Did you get anything from up there, after all?

The pale skinned man smiled demurely.

- We will talk about it later. Let’s help our friend. I have a good and convincing argument. If they want to take one, they will have to take all of us. Let’s make the crowd come into this with us and bring them to our side.

- You’re absolutely crazy, my friend, but that’s a great idea!

Amidst the whole turmoil, they did not allow the police and security guard to take the young man wearing glasses away with them and he was soon released. Those two men were not happy, however.

The three friends got off as immediately as they could. They had a couple of things they would need to work out straight away.

***

The Jeep turned around the roundabout and took the right exit. They were back on the A28, heading south.

- They would not be there for no reason.

- That’s what I thought.

- That incident just confirmed my suspicions.

- There’s one piece still missing in this story…

- Yes. The man in the hooded tracksuit…

- What he wants, we kind of know already… What we need to realize is who he is and what he knows…

- And if he is a friend or a foe…

- One thing is true: we are one step ahead… still… but we need to go and visit that lighthouse again down in the city… And it must be done immediately!

The two friends stared at the pale skinned man, who was holding the phoney ‘geocache’ he took from the mill in his bare hand.

***

- Shame! What could have happened here? I can’t find it anymore. Where is it?

- What? What do you mean you can’t find it anymore?

- I think I know what could have happened. I wonder if…

- Do you think he got here before we did?

- Yes, I do.

- And what do we do now?

- I don’t know, but if he hadn’t realized it, yet, he will soon find out that we hold the other piece of this puzzle and maybe he will come to the sensible conclusion that we will need to work together, otherwise somebody else might…

- Are you serious? He is not a friend, as far as we could find out.

- We don’t know it yet…

- Then what is he? Who is he?

- Think with me: if he ran away from the police and those guys, he is not an enemy at all…

- Well, he broke into the mill, didn’t he? That’s not an innocent move. He knew exactly what he was doing.

- We’ve got to find that man and get some answers to all these questions.

- But how? How can we ever come to find him in this city? We have no clue as of to where he is and how to contact him…

- We need to find a way. I wonder if there’s a way to communicate… He might not be far from us… from here… from this whole thing…

- You are correct!

The three men turned around at the same time. A man with a dark hooded tracksuit was standing at the door of the lighthouse. His face was in the shade.

- That ‘cache’ is no longer there, as you have already noticed, for sure. I was waiting for you!

- What?

- It’s not going to be effective fighting against each other. It doesn’t make any sense. We’ve got to work together and quick. These people are dangerous and they want the same as we do, but with a different intention. And they are getting closer and closer…

- And who the f… I mean, who the hell are you?

The man uncovered his head. The three friends were in awe.

- How can this be possible?

***

Viajante do Tempo. Parte 2. Oblívio.

Os três ficaram em silêncio por um momento. Não havia muito mais a dizer. O rapaz de óculos apoiava a cabeça nas duas mãos, balançando-a levemente e tentando processar o que acabara de ouvir.

- Como isso é possível? Por que diabos eles fizeram uma coisa dessas? Gostaria de saber se uma viagem tão complicada, para o futuro, e com um propósito tão específico, ajudou alguém, afinal, em algum lugar, em algum tempo...

- Acho que nunca saberemos.

- Bem, então como saberemos se eu realmente cheguei lá e atingi o objetivo?

- Tu nunca terias voltado para cá, se não tivesses. A falta de memória não te parece ser prova suficiente?

- Então…?

- Pelo que eu sei, o “Oblívio” era raramente usado em quem fizesse viagens no tempo. Era somente eficiente quando eles queriam enviar os viajantes de volta para quando e de onde eles vieram, mantendo segredo sobre algum ponto, normalmente sua localização, ou para evitar serem revisitados. Tu viajaste para ajudá-los e toda a humanidade no futuro. Essas não devem ser as razões pelas quais o usaram. Eu me pergunto qual teria sido a verdadeira intenção...

Aquela, porém, não era a única preocupação na mente do homem de pele pálida. Havia algo mais que parecia estar fora de lugar. Ele tinha a forte impressão que algumas partes naquela história toda não se encaixavam bem, de alguma forma, mas não quis expressar suas apreensões em voz alta, ainda. Ainda havia algumas dúvidas, mas uma ideia estava se formando em sua mente angustiada. Ele decidiu que precisava pensar um pouco mais sobre aquilo.

Aquele jovem já havia tido problemas suficientes e talvez precisasse de tempo para processar algumas coisas, antes que qualquer outra ação pudesse ser planeada ou feita.

Ele tentou evitar os olhares de seus amigos, quando se afastou por um tempo e ficou na varanda, olhando para um ponto perdido à distância.

Sua mente não estava mais ali, mas em outro lugar e em outra época... Seus pensamentos transbordavam rapidamente, pedindo uma urgente atuação. Ele precisava fazer algo.

O homem de pele pálida sentou-se ao computador e digitou algumas palavras. O resultado da pesquisa fez com que fosse desviado rapidamente para uma série de páginas, que sucediam-se umas às outras, até que ele achou o que procurava.

Fechou o laptop, aprumou-se e murmurou para si mesmo:

- Acho que está na hora de ir ver tudo isso por mim mesmo...

Ele voltou para a sala de estar.

- Rapazes! Precisamos fazer uma coisa... Mas primeiro temos que dar uma passada na praia, a caminho da cidade.

- Na praia?

Ele concordou com um leve sorriso.

- Sim. Na praia…

***

O Jeep seguia pela estrada da praia, na direção dos moinhos. Os três iam em silêncio, cada qual ocupado com suas próprias questões.

Estacionaram não muito longe do destino e seguiram a pé, pela passadeira de madeira, que àquela hora estava cheia de pessoas, a caminhar tranquilamente e a apreciar a vista e a brisa fresca do mar.

Tinham que manter as aparências e passar por apenas um punhado de frequentadores da praia, caminhando erraticamente à beira-mar, tirando fotos de tudo ao redor, como qualquer turista moderno.

- Cá estão eles. E o que fazemos agora?

- Há muitas pessoas por perto. Precisamos ter cuidado.

- Para todos os efeitos, estamos apenas procurando ‘geocaches’...

- Essa é a versão oficial?

- Sim. Essa é a versão oficial, mas acho que ninguém está interessado no que estamos fazendo aqui.

Eles tentaram fotografar as muitas características daqueles prédios peculiares, feitos de pedra e xisto. Havia cinco deles ao longo do caminho de madeira, de frente para o mar. Cada detalhe foi devidamente registado pelas câmaras dos telemóveis, para ser examinado posteriormente. Se o homem da pele pálida estivesse certo em suas suspeitas, eles precisariam voltar à praia, à noite, para uma verificação mais próxima.

A noite, como acontece quando se está ansioso, caiu muito lentamente. Sentados numa esplanada, de frente para o mar, os três bebiam suas cervejas geladas, quase em completo silêncio. O lugar já não estava tão movimentado. Eles analisaram, com cuidado, as fotos tiradas, verificando detalhes do que achavam que lhes seria útil mais tarde.

O homem de pele pálida estava certo em suas dúvidas. Havia algo lá, que merecia uma melhor investigação... definitivamente...

***

A noite estava mais fresca e tranquila. Três silhuetas se moviam silenciosamente pelo passadiço de madeira. Eles sabiam o que procuravam, mas precisavam ter cuidado. Os moinhos não eram propriedade pública e, portanto, seus donos poderiam ter câmaras instaladas em torno da área, o que lhes seria um incômodo.

Antes de saltarem sobre o cercado de corda, para examinar o primeiro edifício, olharam à volta, com cuidado, para certificar-se de que estavam sozinhos.

O homem de óculos de repente ficou rígido.

- Essa não! Vocês ouviram isso?

- O quê?

- Shhh! Ouçam!

Alguém vinha correndo no caminho de madeira.

- Rápido, vamos nos esconder!

Esperando não serem vistos pelo corredor, que se aproximava de onde estavam, os três esconderam-se à sombra do pequeno prédio de formato cilíndrico. Seus corações batiam forte. Eles podiam ouvir os passos chegando cada vez mais perto.

Um corredor, usando um casaco de treino escuro, com capuz, diminuiu a velocidade e parou em frente ao moinho. Olhando em volta, como se a certificar-se que não havia mais ninguém por perto, a figura entrou na propriedade privada e desapareceu-lhes da vista.

Eles ouviram um barulho. Parecia que a entrada estava sendo forçada.

O homem de óculos sussurrou.

- Quem diabos é este? O que ele está fazendo aqui?

- Quieto!

As dobradiças, sem graxa, rangeram com um som distinto. A porta fora, de alguma forma, aberta.

- Ele entrou! O que ele está procurando?

- Vamos sair daqui antes que alguém apareça. Isso está ficando muito perigoso!

- Espera!

O som alto de um alarme, disparado, vinha de dentro da casa. Eles ouviram alguém correndo pelas escadas abaixo e, de repente, a figura encapuzada passou correndo por eles, saltou sobre o cercado de corda e desapareceu na escuridão, longe deles e da iluminação pública.

Pouco depois, um carro da polícia, piscando as luzes vermelhas e azuis, subia em alta velocidade pela velha rua de paralelos, seguido por uma carrinha branca, com grandes letras vermelhas pintadas na lateral. Os dois carros pararam em frente ao moinho.

Eles ouviram o barulho de pessoas gritando e correndo para perto de onde estavam...

- Que porra é esta? Viste aquilo? Eu não acredito!

- O que esses sujeitos estão fazendo aqui? O que eles querem aqui, afinal?

- Vamos sair daqui antes que seja tarde demais. Isto não vai acabar bem!

- Não. Espere! Aquele homem não teve tempo suficiente para procurar o que quer que seja, enquanto esteve lá dentro. Eu me pergunto o que ele estava procurando lá em cima. Talvez esta seja a nossa única hipótese de entrar no moinho, sem forçar a entrada…

- O que tu queres dizer com isto? Estás louco? Não podemos entrar lá. Esta gente é perigosa e pode nos reconhecer!

- Acabo de ter uma ideia. Vamos dar a volta no moinho e fingir que somos apenas mais alguns intrometidos, tentando descobrir o que está acontecendo. É melhor nos separarmos!

- Isso é loucura!

- Mas pode dar certo!

- Não pense muito. Apenas vá. Agora!

Pessoas vinham, correndo, de direções diferentes. Aquilo não era algo que a pacata vila estava acostumada, por isso parecia ser um grande evento.

Eles se separaram um do outro, tentando evitar serem vistos juntos.

Quando o homem de óculos se aproximou da porta, sentiu um puxão no braço.

- Ei!

Ele virou-se e constatou que um dos policiais lhe segurava o braço. Sua surpresa foi maior ao perceber que outro homem, que ele tinha certeza já haver visto antes, estava de pé ao lado do oficial.

***

Time Traveller. Part 2. Oblivion.

The three men were in silence, for a moment. There was not much else to say. The one wearing glasses was holding his head in his both hands, shaking it slightly, trying to process what he had just heard.

- How could that be possible? Why did they do that? I wonder if such a complicated trip to the future and with that purpose had helped anyone, anywhere, anytime, anyway…

- I guess we will never know.

- Well, then how would we know I really did get there and reached the intent?

-You would have never gotten back here if you hadn’t.

- Then…?

- Oblivion was rarely used in time travelling. It was efficient when they wanted to send the voyagers back to when and where they came from. Sometimes also to prevent being revisited. You travelled to help them and all mankind in the future. Those must not be the reasons they used it in you.  I wonder what the real intention was…

That was not the only concern in the pale skinned man’s mind, however. Something else seemed to be out of place. He thought the parts they acknowledged about that whole story did not fit well, somehow, but he did not want to express his apprehensions out loud still. He had some doubts, but an idea was building up in his distressed mind. He had decided he needed to think a little longer about it.

The young man had had trouble enough for the moment and maybe he would need time to process some things before anything else could be planned or done.

He tried to avoid his friends’ stares, when he walked off for a while and stayed out in the porch, gazing at a point that could not really be seen in the distance.

His mind was elsewhere, in another place and another time… His thoughts were hastily overflowing and urging for action. He needed to do something.

The pale man sat by the computer and typed some words. The result of the search made him divert quickly to a string of pages, until he thought he found what he was looking for.

He closed the laptop, straightened up and muttered to himself:

- I think it’s more than time to go and see this whole thing by myself…

He walked back to the living room.

- Guys, we need to do something... but first we need to stop at the beach, on our way down to the city.

- At the beach?

He acceded with a faint smile.

- Yes. At the beach…

***

They drove along the beach road to where the mills were standing. The car was parked not too far from their destination. The wooden walkway was quite filled with passers-by. For all that mattered, they were a bunch of beach-goers, walking erratically by the seashore, taking pictures of everything around.

- There they are. And what do we do now?

- There are too many people around. We will need to be careful.

- For all that matters, we are just looking for geocaches…

- Is that the official version?

- Yes. That’s the official one, but I don’t think anyone is interested in what we are doing here, anyway.

They pretended to be taking pictures of every feature of the peculiar rock and shale constructed buildings. There were five of them along a line by the wooden built pathway, facing the sea. Each one was photographed in detail to be scrutinized later. If the pale man was right in his suspicions, they would need to come back to the beach in the evening, for a closer check.

The night came down very slowly. They were sitting out in the terrace, facing the sea and drinking cold beer, almost in complete silence. The place was not busy. They had been analysing the pictures taken and some needed to be zoomed up to show details of what they thought would be useful later.

The pale skinned man was correct in his qualms. There was something there... definitely…

***

The night was fresher and quieter. Three silhouettes moved silently along the wooden pathway. The men knew what they were looking for, but they needed to be careful. The mills were not public property. The owners could have cameras installed around the area, which would be a nuisance.

When they reached the mills, they looked around to certify they were alone, before getting into their target. They jumped over the roped rail, so to examine the first building.

The man wearing glasses suddenly got stiff.

- Do you hear that?

- What?

- Shhh! Listen!

Someone was running on the wooden pathway.

- Quick, let’s hide.

They hasted to the shadow of the round building, hoping they had not been seen by the runner who was getting closer to where they were. Their hearts were pounding hard. They could hear him (or her) coming closer and closer.

A jogger wearing a dark hoodie slowed down and stopped right in front of the mill. Looking around as if checking if there were no one else around, the figure stepped into the private property and disappeared from their sight. They heard a noise. It seemed the door was being forced.

The man wearing glasses whispered.

- Who the hell is that? How come he is here?

- Quiet!

The door seemed to have been opened. It kind of complained in its ungreased hinges, with a distinctive sound.

- He is in! What is he looking for in there?

- Let’s get out of here, before someone shows up. This is getting too dangerous!

- Wait!

The loud sound of an alarm setting off was coming from inside the house. They heard someone hurrying down the stairs and suddenly the hooded figure sprinted past them, jumped over the roped rail and disappeared in the darkness, away from them and from the light.

Not long afterwards a police car, flashing its red and blue lights, raced up the cobblestone street, followed by a white van with red lettering on the side. The two cars stopped by the mill. They heard the noise of people shouting and running closer…

- What the fuck? Did you see that? I can’t believe this!

- What are these guys doing here? What are they up to?

- This is not good news! Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.

- No. Wait! That man did not have time enough to search for things while he was in there. I wonder what he was looking for upstairs. Maybe this is our chance to get in the mill, without trespassing…

- What do you mean? Are you crazy? We cannot go in there. These guys are dangerous and they might know us!

- I’ve just had an idea. We’ll turn around the mill and pretend we are just nosy passers-by trying to find out what’s going on here. We better split!

- This is crazy, man!

- Don’t think much. Just go. Now!

People were coming from different directions. A police event was something the quiet village was not used to, so it was quite a commotion.

They walked around, separated from each other, trying to avoid being seen together.

When the man wearing glasses was approaching the door, he felt like someone pulled him back.

- Hey!

He turned around. A policeman was holding his arm. He stiffened when he realized there was another man, he was sure he had seen before, standing by the officer.

***