Chapter 11: A Contract

  We descended to the second floor.

  On the way there, I quickly explained to Trent what Alice and I had talked about when I first came across her.

  He listened patiently, eyes widening at some of the details. But I assured him he was exaggerating.

  Then, we approached Alice’s exhibit.

  Since my conversation with her, she’d assembled her invention – or at least most of it. But she wasn’t alone. A middle-aged man with a staff armband was speaking to her.

  “Damn it.” Trent muttered.

  “Calm down, assistant.” I replied. “We’ll get our chance.”

  We lingered just far enough to stay out of their line of sight, quiet and unsuspicious, as I tried to catch their conversation.

  “Miss Verldson,” the organizer was saying, “I’ve already told you. If you submit your second invention, we’ll gladly revise the lineup and move you to the first floor where you belong.”

  “And I’ve already told you,” Alice snapped in a hushed voice, “The Eye for Lie is my one and only invention. I’m not changing it to appease anyone.”

  The man frowned, exasperated. “You’re making things difficult for the Committee, Miss. And Prime Vorrick will side with us – you know that. Please, reconsider before the Expo begins.”

  Alice’s eyes narrowed. “Prime Vorrick has nothing to do with it. He’ll have to learn to accept my decisions.”

  The man hesitated, then sighed. “I…see. I’ll inform him – and the Committee.”

  With a resigned expression, he turned and walked off.

  So, she had a second invention. One that aligned better with Skyhaven’s vision. I wondered what it could be…

  Trent and I used the moment to close in. I noticed her disguised bodyguards subtly shift at out approach, alert but holding their ground. They didn’t interfere, still pretending to be with the staff.

  Before I spoke, I briefly wondered how different my original timeline was compared to this, still struggling with the thought of what a ‘significant change’ was.

  “Hi there.” I greeted her.

  Damn, why did it come out so awkward?

  “If it isn’t Viktor Halegrim,” she replied with a faint smile. “I thought I scared you off indefinitely with all my rambling earlier.”

  “Oh, not at all. That’s actually why I’m here.” I bluffed.

  Next to me, Trent gave a small cough, trying to get my attention.

  “Oh – right.” I said, gesturing toward him, the gears in my mind already at work. “Alice, this is Trent, my assistant…and agent.”

  “Agent?” Trent blinked.

  Alice looked equally surprised.

  I had to see her handwriting, and this was the best angle I could think of.

  I nodded, keeping my voice steady. “Yes. You see, I’m a man of innovation – I envision things, then craft them. But I’ve got no real sense of their market value. On the other hand, Trent here? Financial genius.”

  “I am?” Trent muttered quietly. Then, realizing the game, quickly nodded. “I am.”

  I continued. “I trust him more than I trust myself. He makes sure I don’t get played when it’s time to cut deals. No offense, of course.”

  She laughed. “My, my. I didn’t expect you to turn around so quickly. You seemed hesitant before.”

  “That was before I learned who you are.” I said.

  No point pretending otherwise – she’d see through it anyway.

  She nodded once, still smiling. “Very well, Man of Innovation.” She said, then turned to Trent. “What did you have in mind, Mr. Agent?”

  Trent stepped forward. The confidence in his voice didn’t quite match the uncertainty in his eyes, but that was classic Trent.

  “Well,” he said, lacing his fingers together, “given my client’s remarkable brilliance and the sheer potential and versatility of the Chrono Quill, a sixty-forty partnership seems…equitable.”

  “Deal.” Alice replied immediately.

  Trent blinked. “Sixty to Viktor – you understood that, right?”

  “I did,” She said, smiling. “And I said deal.”

  Trent shot me a wide-eyed glance, then pushed forward. “We’ll also be expecting half the usage and development rights for this joint collaboration, naturally.”

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  “Naturally.” Alice echoed, nodding.

  “One moment.” Trent said, turning to me with a barely-contained grin.

  He leaned closely and whispered. “Dude, I had no idea I was this good. Should’ve pushed for seventy.”

  I would’ve laughed if the end of the world didn’t possibly depend on this negotiation.

  “Don’t get cocky.” I whispered back. “Just get her to write it down. Anything, even a rough draft.”

  “Ohh, smart.” He whispered, then pivoted back to Alice with a dramatic flourish, his confidence rising.

  “It seems like we have a deal, Miss Verldson.” Trent said. “But naturally, we’ll need that in writing. A simple agreement. Just so we’re sure you don’t turn on us all of a sudden. You see, I’ve been in this line of business for a long time – “

  “How long?” Alice asked, seemingly amused.

  But Trent was unshakable. “Plenty. Some would say too long.”

  She laughed again, then turned toward me. “Your have a very good agent.”

  Then, she turned her back to us. From a crate beside her invention, she retrieved a leather-bound notebook. Her initials – A.V. – were elegantly engraved on the front in silver. A mechanical pen was affixed to the spine, a slim brass thing with an ink capsule embedded at the base and tiny adjustments knobs near the nib – an expensive model.

  She opened to a page somewhere in the middle – not the first blank one, I noticed – and began to write.

  Agreement of Collaboration

  Between Viktor Halegrim and Alice Verldson regarding the further joint development of the Chrono Quill and the Eye for Lie devices.

  Terms: 60% of all future proceeds and recognition to Viktor Halegrim. 40% to Alice Verldson.

  Full development rights shared equally.

  Signed:

  1. Verldson -

  2. Halegrim -

  But I wasn’t looking at what she wrote.

  I was studying how she wrote it.

  Her handwriting was the opposite of the note’s. Flowing. Unmistakably feminine. Her letters curved gracefully, including some flourishes – like the loop in her V, the tail on her g. It was a practiced and elegant handwriting – as expected from someone of her status.

  The note in my pocket was written in flat handwriting. A calculated neutrality.

  Still…I couldn’t be sure. If she wanted to disguise her handwriting, this is exactly the contrast she’d go for.

  I had to keep looking.

  She signed next to her name and handed me the pen. “Your turn.”

  I took it and signed at the bottom without ever reading the contents – who cared? This day was headed for calamity either way, and I’d be reborn in that cell again.

  Alice wrote a second draft, identical to the first, and we signed it as well.

  “Let’s talk again after the Expo.” She suggested, extending her hand for a handshake. “We can discuss the working process better then.”

  Then she tore one page out and gave it to me.

  I handed our copy to Trent, an idea forming in my mind – another thing I could do to find out if she was the culprit.

  I nodded, shook her hand, and as I turned away, I navigated to the Inventory menu in my COG and selected the Bronze Key. It materialized in my hand – fast and discreet.

  But instead of curling my fingers around it, I let it slip.

  I wanted her to see it.

  The key hit the ground with a clink, bouncing once on the polished floor.

  I turned back quickly, watching her reaction.

  But there was nothing. No flicker of recognition. No tension. Just the polite reflex of someone who saw someone dropping something.

  She crouched down and picked it up.

  “Viktor,” she said, holding it out, “You dropped this.”

  Her tone was casual. Relaxed. As was the polite smile on her face.

  I hesitated, searching her eyes for even the faintest crack in her mask, then slowly accepted the key.

  Even if she was the one who’d put it inside my pocket, I couldn’t tell.

  “A bronze key.” She remarked, tilting her head with seemingly genuine confusion. “It’s very expensive. You should be careful not to lose it.”

  ***

  I climbed the stairs behind an ecstatic Trent, deep in my thoughts.

  Had her words back there meant something? Or was I overthinking it, reading too much into an offhand remark? Maybe she was just surprised that someone from Orlinth – someone like me – would carry a key made of pure bronze.

  And why wouldn’t she be surprised by it? She had all the reasons to find it odd.

  I sighed.

  She wasn’t wrong. The key was expensive. Bronze was an expensive material – and essential component in many creations. Not keys. If I had to guess, whatever this thing opened had to be in Skyhaven. Orlinthers wouldn’t throw away bronze to create a key.

  But what did it open? And more importantly – where exactly in Skyhaven?

  This was only my second time in Skyhaven. I barely knew anything beyond the Divine – and that was impossible to miss even if you tried. The rest? I’d need a map.

  Wait a minute...

  Should I even keep pursuing this as a lead?

  Back in the Time Realm, when Chronos and his assistants laid it all out – Valdemar, Erebus, the loop – everything felt focused. Complex, but also tangible. A threat to be stopped, a world to be saved. Relatively speaking, it was simple. But I hadn’t known about the key or the note then. I hadn’t realized I was being stalked by someone.

  Am I even sure it’s connected?

  Like I thought before, it could be Devin pulling another prank on me. Arresting me for nothing wasn’t enough. He had to have another laugh at my expense.

  But the key was what ticked me off.

  Why would Devin have a bronze key opening something in Skyhaven? As far as I knew, he wasn’t rich, nor could he ever visit Skyhaven – he was an Orlinth rat just like the rest of us even if he loved to act like he wasn’t.

  But if it wasn’t him, then who was it?

  Whoever it was had to have access to Skyhaven – that much was certain. But they didn’t necessarily have to be the one who physically slipped the key and the note into my pocket. That task could’ve been handed off. Easily.

  Considering the unhealthy number of Ironwatch Enforcers I’d passed through today, any one of them could’ve been tasked with this simple task. And then the question becomes even harder – not who placed the key in my pocket, but who gave the order?

  “She was actually really nice.” Trent said. “Not how I imagined an oligarch would speak to us.”

  His voice snapped me out of my spiral. I blinked. “What? Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Maybe in addition to this goldmine,” he said, holding up the signed contract with a grin, “we found you a wife.”

  I rolled my eyes, not in a mood for jests. “Don’t be foolish. You sound like my dad. Not every interaction with a female is a future marriage.”

  “What? It could happen.”

  “No, it can’t.” I said, sharper than I wanted. “You know it better than anyone. They’re different people.”

  Trent fell quiet for a second. “Maybe you’re right…”

  Of course I was right. People in Skyhaven were a different breed. And I won’t trust them even if my life depended on it.

  We walked the rest of the way to my exhibit in silence.

  “Say,” Trent said after a while, glancing over his shoulder, “am I your agent going forward, or was this like a one-time gig?”

  A one-time gig that would likely repeat itself a maximum of one hundred and twenty-three more times – but hopefully, less than that.

  “Sure.” I said calmly.

  Trent grinned, then nodded toward the key still in my hand. “Where’s that from, anyway? I didn’t know you were secretly rich.”

  “I’m not.” I replied flatly.

  “Still, if someone in Orlinth saw it, they might actually beat you up for it.”

  I nodded. “I know. I have no idea where it came from. I just…found it in my pocket.”

  “Huh?” His steps slowed, eyes widening. “That’s – wait, what?”

  “Never mind that.” I said quickly, regretting the slip, not wanting the conversation to go into territories Chronos asked me to stay away from.