Time Well Spent - An Original Short Story by K H Simmons

Photo by VanveenJF on Unsplash

‘Doesn't it seem ironic that you get paid in time for your time?’ the junkie laughed as I stepped through the garbage blocking the doorway.

He reached out with a scrawny hand as I passed, making a desperate grab for my trouser leg. His fingers were so frail that the material slipped right through them. His dark eyes begged me for help, even if he couldn’t communicate it. It was clear he had very little time left. Whatever he’d had, he'd squandered for one last hit. It made me wonder what kind of a high would be worth going through the agony of a time siphon until you had virtually nothing left.

I was fortunate to have never had to give up my time, I'd witnessed it though. One of my very first big arrests was sentenced to all time. As I was the detective in charge of the case, it was my duty to witness the time siphon first-hand. It's something you never forget. Nothing quite proves that time is the lifeblood of the universe as a time siphon.
The man's name was Eckhard Rhine, he was responsible for the deaths of sixteen children. He had done unspeakable things to them. It wasn't a man you could feel sorry for and yet, seeing him strapped into that machine, the needles protruding from his flesh as they distilled his time and sucked it right out of him. Seeing him wither and fracture, hearing him scream in agony as every remaining second was expunged...I’m not sure I would wish that upon anyone.
Perhaps the brain was merciful. Perhaps it was easy to forget the pain especially as it was lulled into a toxic utopia. Perhaps he saw it as a punishment.

I tore my eyes away from the addict and stepped through the door into the darkness beyond. An old woman sat in the hallway beyond, dosing in her chair. Every second I spent down in the Shifts; I was grateful for my lot in life. Not everyone was so lucky as to never need to sell their time. I didn't wake the old woman as I crept up the stairs. It wasn't her I was here for.

The door to the apartment was distorted, half was rotting with some kind of plant life breaking its way through the panelling, the other half was freshly painted and full of hope. Where the two halves met the paint and plant merged and fractured creating jagged, glass-like points that warped and shifted when you looked at them.

Being careful to avoid the shards of the halfway-line I twisted the rusted doorknob and opened the door to the apartment. Inside it was like looking through a kaleidoscope. In some places the wallpaper was fresh and bright, the sofa cushions were plumped, and the sun streamed through the open window. In others the wallpaper was scorched and blackened, the sofa cushions were covered in rubble and cobwebs, and darkness swirled like smoke in the air. There were fractures everywhere, the jagged edges of siphoned time glinted in the air.

For everything there was a price. Time couldn't be made; it could only be taken. Where the time was taken from was none of my business. I was here because someone here was selling time that didn't belong to them. Through the chaotic mess of the apartment I couldn’t see any sign of machinery, nor whoever was taking the time. Either they’d been tipped off or they’d got what they needed already. I had no desire to try to navigate the vortex within. Coming into contact with a time fracture was one way to guarantee losing everything. I quietly shut the distorted door and made my way back downstairs.

The old woman was awake now, she watched me descend the stairs with rheumy blue eyes. ‘You missed him,’ she croaked.

‘You saw him?’ I approached her chair and crouched down so I could hear her better and vice versa. She gave me a stiff nod.

‘Young man, but no younger than he should be,’ she tried and failed to sit up straighter in the chair. I put an arm around her and helped her slide back. Her bones protruded through paper-thin skin. I don’t know how old she was, she looked like she was in her nineties if she hadn’t given or received any time.

‘Anything you can tell me will help,’ I said.

‘Will it help me? Will it give me back my time?’ she laughed. The laugh turned into a racking cough that sounded like it could tear her lungs.

‘He took from you?’ I asked.

‘Oh no,’ she gave me a tight-lipped smile. ‘Aevum did that all by themselves.’

Aevum - the blessing or curse of humanity depending on who you asked or where you looked. They held the monopoly on time. I couldn’t say much, they also made sure that I got paid. It didn’t mean I approved of some of the things they did though. The Shifts being one of them.

‘Please, that man, the one you saw. He’s taking time illegally, he could hurt people,’ I said.
She snorted through her nose.

‘Only thing he’s hurting is Aevum’s profit margins. Good for him, I say,’ she replied.

‘Ma’am, please don’t make me warn you about impeding an ongoing investigation,’ I didn’t want to say it, but at the end of the day I had a job to do.

She sighed and gave me a sour look.

‘Dark hair, beard, dark clothes, can’t remember much more. You can blame Aevum for that. Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re wasting the pitiful amount of time I have left,’ she grumbled.

I nodded my thanks, making a note of her name and address. When I left the building there was no sign of the junkie. A young man with dark hair and a beard was lingering nearby though.

‘Stop, put your hands on your head and don’t move,’ I said, my heart pounding against my ribs. Why hadn’t he run?

‘Alright, but first I want to show you something,’ he said.

‘No, keep your hands where I can see them,’ I replied, taking my handcuffs from my belt. The young man took a step towards me, keeping his hands planted firmly on his head.

‘I think you’ll want to see this,’ he twitched his head to the side.

I turned to look just as a second man stepped out of the shadows. His clothes were dirty and torn, but his face was young and healthy. The dark eyes were the same though.

‘What is this?’ I muttered. I didn’t like that there was two of them now. I had my gun but using it in the Shifts so close to a time fracture could be disastrous.

‘A second chance,’ the first man said. He’d stepped closer to me, although his hands were still on his head.

‘Thank you,’ the second man whispered.

‘Don’t go throwing it away this time,’ the first man warned.

The junkie nodded. ‘I won’t, I promise, I won’t.’ Just moments ago, he had been on the edge of death with no time left at all. Now he was brimming with it. Life and health were his. How?

‘Come,’ the first man gestured.

I was torn. He was my target; I was sure of it. He was taking time without a doubt. Then what did I just witness? Why give it to the junkie? I followed him at a distance as he re-entered the building. The old woman was dosing in her chair still. Her eyes opened as he stepped close to her.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked. I watched from the doorway in case he had the time siphon hidden somewhere.

‘Josie,’ she answered.

‘I believe this is yours Josie,’ he reached into his pocket.

I drew my gun and shouted a warning.

Slowly he pulled his hand back out, he was holding a crystalline syringe, the same kind I received every month. It was filled with a glimmering gold substance that was neither liquid nor gas. It was distilled time. He injected it into her frail arm. I could see the gold glittering just beneath her skin, it spread up her arm, smoothing wrinkles and erasing liver spots as it went. Her body straightened and her muscles became firm again. When it reached her eyes, the clouds cleared and they sparkled blue. Grey strands of hair transitioned to blonde in a matter of seconds.

When it finished, her full red lips parted and she breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, not quite believing it.

‘Why?’ I asked.

The young man turned to me, the empty syringe still in his hand.

‘I take from Aevum what Aevum took from them. It belongs to them,’ he nodded to Josie who was examining her hands in the light.

‘But, upstairs?’ I stumbled over my words.

‘Upstairs? That’s been like that for years,’ Josie laughed, her voice clear and pure. I frowned, unsure what to think.

‘Why are you telling me this? You know I’ve got a warrant for your arrest,’ I said.

‘I’m telling you because you’re not one of Aevum’s grunts. You’re a detective. You do what you do because you believe it’s right. So, do you think what I’m doing is wrong? If you do, then arrest me right now,’ he held out his hands ready for me to cuff them.

I hesitated. My gun wavered.

‘Is it right that these people haven’t been given any time? Is it right that they’ve had time taken from them and their homes? Is it right that Aevum has more time than any of us?’ the young man pressed, still with his hands held out to me.
I looked from Josie, to the young man and gave a slight shake of my head. I stared as Josie got out of her chair with a spring in her step. The young man dropped his hands. Shrugged and disappeared through the doorway behind him, as he did, he called back to me.

‘They deserve time as much as any of us. I’m just here to redistribute what’s theirs.’

About Me

I'm Katy, but go by K H Simmons officially. I write a lot of sci-fi, dark fantasy and dystopian fiction. If you're here for sparkly vampires, you're in the wrong place ;)

I frequently post short stories on my Facebook page, as well as work on full length novels. If you want more short stories like the above - check out my anthology Death, Demons & Dystopia available on Amazon/Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YN5DY98

When I'm not writing, I can usually be found cuddling dogs, reading, at the gym or playing video games.