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| Scene Title | The Advantage Of Knowing |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In the battle over history, Luther finds that it's his turn to step up. |
| Date | November 1, 2010 |
Each unheard tick of the clock takes him forward in time. Forward to the future. Forward to Redbird Security, where Luther has chosen to throw in his lot with the ones who seek to change it. Why he's done so, perhaps not even he knows. What he does know is that here, Now, he has something going, something different than just having been wandering around the city dodging underneath the eyes of the public.
Robyn would have been proud.
It should be around that time when the majority of the employees are headed off to dinner. That's when he'll hit the employee break room to scrounge out his own. The man has a twenty in his pocket from helping out a new friend, but he's been loathe to use it. Maybe it means something more than just money.
A business that specialises in security would want to be secure. A business that specialises in security as a cover would desire to be more so. But cameras, alarms, and locking mechanisms don't mean much to someone who can dart in through time and space both like a fish exploring a complex set of coral.
When Luther is given the company he avoided, it's without fanfare — just a rush of air and the sight of someone appearing in his periphery. Hiro still has Australian heat baking off the shoulders of his coat, and a mildly serene expression despite the standing out of sweat on his brow, evidence of tension from using his own ability. He has a big damn sword strapped to his back, jarring up ceilingwards at an angle, and in contrast, a demure, snowy white crane pinched between his fingers.
He's currently studying Luther with some confusion, and glances around as if to see if there is anyone else in the room. Which is a little unfair.
The little rush of frantic breeze settles, and Luther turns his gaze in the direction of its origin. Nobody around could be more surprised; then again, nobody else is around. The man is startled to say the least, but he has enough composure to shoot just a restrained stare at the shorter, but perhaps more dangerous, Japanese man who has just suddenly appeared in the room.
When his wits jump back onto the tracks, Luther's first words are to blurt out, not a 'who are you' or a 'what are you doing here' but, "Shouldn't you come in with more of a 'bamf' kind of sound?"
"No." Well. That's a simple enough answer.
Hiro stands silent for a few moments longer, twirling the paper crane around by the tip of its wing, before he offers out the item for Luther to take. "My name is Hiro Nakamura. I am a time traveler. This is for you." His arm straightens a little more in gesture for Luther to take the paper crane. He can see, now, that there is something printed on the paper, just visible within its folds — a photograph, and some written words. "It is your destiny," is added, helpfully.
Universal gestures of exchange - this, Luther understands on some innate level. But while the fundamentals are there, the details are still garbled. Hence it takes a moment, but he finally does pluck the folded crane away. "Destiny?" he echoes, confusion overlaying the man's tone. "How do you even know who I am?" Ah, here come the usual questions, no doubt. To his credit, he doesn't ask about time travel. Yet.
"I do not know who you are," Hiro supplies, now moving to pace around the kitchen a little. "Only by name and description. It is the postcognitive that I am working with— Rhys Bluthner— that was able to see the past, and watch your success as a hero against two women who were led astray, and manipulated into the changing the past in ways they do not understand. When the past changes, the effect ripples outwards, until crashing waves of change meet the present."
It's been a long month, and he hasn't discovered a way to pitch this without sounding crazy yet. By now, he's just used to sounding crazy. "You have allies who have assisted also. Elisabeth Harrison and Monica Dawson are in Australia, sixteen years ago, as we speak now. Richard Cardinal, before them both. Peyton Whitney— "
That brings Hiro some pause, and he lets out a sigh, and a dismissive headshake. The point's been made, anyway.
"Hiro, I'm sure you've seen some crazy things in your time… times… but if what Mr. Cardinal says is right, and if those visions that a lot of us got about November 8th are going to come true? Then it's just going to get crazier from here on out, isn't it?" Luther twists the little paper crane between his fingers, eyeing the writing peeking out. "You didn't just come here to give me this, did you?"
She will need your help. She has needed your help. That's what's written on the crane, along with a photograph of a blonde woman known now as Odessa Knutson.
Hiro listens to Luther's words with a kind of still serenity of knowledge that craziness will happen, and craziness is soon. He flexes his fingers, restlessly, and addresses the easy part. "I need you to come with me, to 1984. I will give you more details of your mission there. You will rescue a child— a baby, really, from a monster. If you decide to accept your destiny, of course."
Of course. He adds, "The future will be crazy, but we will have the advantage of knowing. If everything changes, we will lose even that."
Luther opens his mouth, but winds up simply gawping for a few seconds in uncertainty of his own thoughts let alone words. Finally, he closes his slack jaw and gives the barest nod of consent. It's an reflexive motion, one done before he even really thinks on it. The look in his eyes says the rest: just how old was he in 1984…?
It could be worse. Far worse.
It could be 1974.
Hiro allows for a tiny, Mona Lisa-like smile at the consent. Kind of a sad smile too, to be honest, before he starts to raise his hand. Then hesitates. On second thought— "Do you have a gun, Luther Bellamy?"
He may need it.