Chapter 1

I was tired, I was hungry, and it was getting dark out. I was late from school due to detention caused by some stupid argument with a PE teacher. I was leaning down over my bike unlocking it when I noted a shadow approaching from behind. I quickly snapped the lock back together and stood up, turning around.

He looked so out of place. A business man type in his mid thirties, balding hair, suit and briefcase and all. It was amazing I hadn't heard him park or get out of that shiny Mercedes behind him. He walked over to me with confident steps, and I eased into what my dad called a 'relaxed ready stance'. Basically you just take a step away from obstacles such as my bike, and make sure you stand with your feet a bit apart so that you have good balance. And of course, no hands in pockets. For a year I actually stopped wearing clothes with pockets just to get out of the habit of keeping my hands in there. Now they relaxed along my sides as the man stopped just outside of kicking distance.

So it was a pretty shitty neighbourhood. Anything looked out of place and it was probably bad for you, maybe even lethal. And as I said, this business man looked way out of place.

He looked me over twice, comparing me to a photo he pulled out of his pocket. He was smart enough to pull it out slowly, and only using his extended fingers. I was looking for the sign. A motion, a movement, a glimpse of something in his face or posture, a hidden weapon. Any reason for me to take a step forward and do my best to make sure he didn't kill me before I knocked him out.

He slowly put down his briefcase on the ground and opened it and turned it around. It was filled to the brim with money. He rose slowly and stepped back.

I didn't move. I don't know how often these kinds of things happen to you, but my first instinct was to get the hell away. Cover was a long way though and he might have a gun. Money? What money? Why money? Why me? Why would he have a picture of me, and more importantly, why would he need to find me... and show me cash? I had seen cash.

Okay, maybe I hadn't seen this much cash, but... I swallowed hard as he broke the silence. His voice was pleasant but he spoke barely audibly as if to avoid any possible witnesses to what he said. He also barely moved his lips, as if fully expecting some lip reader to be sitting with binoculars a house over, watching his every step.

"You will take that briefcase and you will invest the money with the help of a financial advisor you will meet in a few minutes. You will find a letter underneath the cash giving a few ideas about what to invest in. Follow the ideas; they will rapidly make you very rich... You will continue your life as a poor man though until your father and mother dies. Then you will go under ground. A sizable amount of your wealth will be funding research into stasis and cryogenics, and finally you will travel into the far future, in a dreamless sleep. The corporations you have started and invested in will have grown considerably, and through some legal loopholes you quickly gain control of a massive amount of wealth. You spend a lot of it researching bidirectional time travel, and once your scientists make a breakthrough you use the machine repeatedly to go back in time and start and accelerate the chain of events that leads to this moment, right here. You then travel back to Neolithic times and are never seen again. Your reasons unknown."

Again, I don't know how often these things happen to you, but I just stared at him until he finally backed off, turned around and got in the back seat of the car. His door opened and closed without a sound. He rolled down his window and looked at me, and then pointed down along the street.

"You better hurry. Next alley over, she'll appreciate it more if you don't let her get raped."

Okay, so I should have reacted quicker. Car went away, briefcase full of money in front of me, someone screamed in the distant. I sat down. It seemed logical at the time. I stared at the money for a while, the piles of bills were kept together with rubber bands, which was probably lucky, or the breeze still would have had me chasing my money all over the pavement. Yeah, my money. It had to be my money. I stood up and walked over to the briefcase, bending over and carefully moving some piles away until I could see the letter beneath them. No hidden bombs or anything. Good. My money.

Wait a minute. Scream. Someone had screamed. I slowly started to connect with reality again as I closed the briefcase, unlocked the bike and took off towards next alley over with the speed of confusion. Rich, rich, rich, rich, rich, rich the thoughts pounded my mind and I couldn't wrap my head around it. What was going on? Why me, Why... oh he had explained everything, of course, but then again there was this other dude who drank too much and occupied the bench near my school, and he said that the reason the stoplights were red and the go lights were green is because when you puke your blood up you know it's time to stop fighting your problems and if it's green you might as well start again. He didn't seem to have briefcases full of money though.

So did having money make someone trustworthy? I had money now, was I trustworthy? Did I have money now? I glanced down at the briefcase again as I slowed in and sneaked slowly up to the corner of the alley. No lamps right behind me, no chance of showing too much. I tore my eyes away from the briefcase and looked into the alley. Two men were tearing clothes off of a girl. They seemed drunk, but being big and strong and drunk enough to ignore her little scratching and kicking, they still had her pretty fucked. Or would have, soon.

I don't know what you would have done, but I know my attention was on the scene before me. I didn't think about any briefcase full of cash anymore, just about a pretty girl getting molested. I wondered for a split second if I could just go, or rather... would my conscience let me? They were strong, they could seriously fuck me up... She was crying. Giving up. No, fuck it no... Nobody did anything any more. Nobody helped anyone.

I picked up speed and jumped off my bike, tackling the seemingly most aggressive one to the ground. I rolled to my feet and turned around. He had barely gotten up on all fours, mumbling about how many ways he was going to break me. I kicked out hard, hoping it was hard enough to knock him out but not hard enough to kill. Aiming for the temple is dangerous when you do not really want to kill anyone, but he was seriously out of line, and my training had kicked in. The other one approached me staggering, he had released the girl but he was still a threat - I could see it in the way he moved not to pick up his friend, not to run, but towards me. Hostile. So I charged, knee to the groin, elbow to the face, step aside, let him fall, hammer punch to the neck.

The girl was pretty shook up. I wasn't much better of myself, but the adrenaline still kept me in combat mode. I checked the surroundings, gave her my sweatshirt to wear. Her skirt was wearable. I had to help her dress. At first she didn't react, but then she looked at me with a curious look. "Who are you?"

I muttered something beneath my breath and she seemed to wake up a little more trying to hear what I said. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat?"

I smiled at her and helped her jump down from the dumpster the assailants had placed her on. "I said I am nobody." She looked down at her feet, trying to balance with one heel broken. She raised a leg while leaning onto me and snapped the other heel of as well. Practical, I like practical.

"Nemo then. In Latin..." Her voice trailed away. I checked my bike over first, and it was mostly unharmed. Some scratches to the paint. The briefcase... yes, not a scratch. I picked it up and led the bike out while the lady clung to my left arm as if wanting to lean on me. Her legs where shaking silently, making her steps unstable. I tried to converse with her to take her mind of the problems.

"So... who are you then? Speaks Latin, pretty face, nicely dressed. You don't exactly seem to belong here. Beauty such as yours would have been ruined years ago in this area."

She blushed as if I had given her a compliment, and I guess I had. We walked to a bus stop. Not safe, but lighted enough and enough people around that it was unlikely we would get more trouble. She sat down, but I kept alert, glancing back in the direction we came to make sure they didn't come after us.

"I'm Tina, Tina Bierce. I don't speak Latin, but I know a few terms from financial law, since I studied economics. I've got a job interview tomorrow and an old friend of mine promised me a place to sleep... I had no idea she lived in such a..." She seemed to be able to handle herself better now that she had something to speak about that wasn't her recent attack. I smiled at her.

"So, Tina-Tina Bierce, where are you heading. Is your friend worried, luggage, all that. Not that I am trying to get rid of you, but it is getting to be past my bedtime."

She glanced at me as if she hadn't noticed it before. "Oh, but you... A kid saved my life. Well... Thank you." She was silent for a while as if in deep thought, and then continued. "Well, she will be worried. I didn't bring any luggage; she promised I could use one of her dresses. Could you just... follow me there? I don't..."