Day 1: Everything Has A Prize

“No.” Luke said firmly for the fourth time that meeting.

“Mr Gaudreau…” The patience in the voice of the grey-haired man with trim build, seated across the room from the thin yet sculpted man in white tank top in the armchair, remained as constant as it had been throughout the meeting, “I can only infer from your reaction that you have failed to comprehend my offer.” The grey-haired man pulled his cheque book and a pencil from the chest pocket of his blue three piece suit. He scribbled on the cheque at the top in a flashy manner, tearing the slip out and holding it by a corner for each hand as he stood up and presented it to Luke.

“See this, Mr Gaudreau? That is a one followed by eight zeroes. Not four. Not six. Eight. Do you know what number that constitutes, Mr Gaudreau? A hundred million dollars. If after three generations your family managed to amount to half that sum through your best efforts, I would be thoroughly surprised. This is the astonishing offer I lay before you, in exchange for the deed to your house. Such offers are few and far between. I only ask you to consider this very carefully before making a decision.”

Luke took the cheque from the elderly gentleman’s hands, looked it over thoroughly, then ripped it to pieces.

“No matter how many times you ask, Mr Hayden, my answer will remain the same,” Luke inhaled, “No!”

Victor Hayden glared at the scraps of paper as they rained to the floor, “Mr Gaudreau… I can appreciate a resolute mind, but everyone has a tipping point. I am not usually this up front when it comes to business, Mr Gaudreau, but for this occasion I am left with little recourse: you are standing on a gold mine. At this point you could ask for any price, and I would be inclined to comply regardless of what that price may be. Were you to ask for your own city, I would consider it not too much of an exaggeration. I am an exceedingly wealthy man, Mr Gaudreau. All the cards are in your hand. It is your move. With this knowledge in mind, what shall your reply be?”

“No.” The strain in the patience of Luke’s voice grew ever obvious.

Victor sighed in frustration, but presented a comforting smile, “I understand how this might feel, Mr Gaudreau. A wealthy, geriatric individual invites himself to your life, throwing money in your face and appears relentless in his efforts to persuade you to move away; surrendering the residence that no doubt has become paramount to your identity since you moved in. I can understand that all of this can come across as rather overwhelming. Suspicious, even. But I have a vision, Mr Gaudreau. A vision of this town. A vision of the future. One where Clovertown receives the rejuvenation it so desperately needs. The young will have opportunities. The old will have a safety net for their autumn days. The town will grow, and become bustling with the hope and light of a true metropolis.” Victor points dramatically with his pen towards the city skyline in the distance, “In my vision there will be a luxury apartment complex right over there, and this… This will be part of a great mall. People from across half the state will travel to shop around, and settle in. Can you honestly say you can not share my vision? That it is a vision not worth pursuing?”

Luke shakes his head, “Mr Hayden… I have no doubt you have the best intentions in mind, but… I wish I could convince you, I’m not just some broken record. I really don’t want to sell my property.”

Victor clears his throat and inhales through clenched teeth, “And why, Mr Gaudreau, is that?”

“I really feel like that is not something I need to indulge, Mr Hayden.”

“But Mr Gaudreau… If I knew what your endgame was, then perhaps we could settle on some arrangement… Find some compromise… Perhaps…”

“I think it is time for you to leave, Mr Hayden.” Luke walks over to the front door and opens it for Victor.

Victor walked right up to Luke’s space and looked him square in the eye, “I am unaccustomed to not getting my way, Mr Gaudreau.”

“Then it’s about time you got used to it, champ. Not gonna change my mind. Not gonna happen.”

Victor sighed and slipped his cheque book back into his chest pocket and produced a business card instead, “Very well, Mr Gaudreau.” He scribbled down something quickly on the card, “But if you change your mind, you can reach my secretary on this number. She will get you in contact with me on the shortest possible notice.”

Luke took the card and slipped it into his wallet, “I will keep that in mind, Mr Hayden. Just don’t expect too much.”

Victor walked out through the door, “Same goes to you, Mr Gaudreau. I can assure you that you will not get a better deal than this.”

“Actually, Mr Hayden… I already turned down twice the sum you offered, when Mr Reeves was here earlier.”

SNAP!

Blue ink ran between Victor’s fingers as the pen in his grasp broke in two, “...I see. Well, have a good afternoon, Mr Gaudreau.” Victor produced a handkerchief from his chest pocket and wiped the ink off his palms, folding it and handing it over to his chauffeur, who proceeded to open the door to Victor’s sports car for him. Soon after they drove off.

“I take it Mr Hayden didn’t find any progress today?” The chauffeur asked as he looked at his dismayed employer in the mirror.

“The man will absolutely not budge.” Victor said, “And to top it off, Anslow Reeves is on my heels. Again. Pursuing the same goal as me, like he always does.”

“Ah, but of course. Misfortune thrives in company, doesn’t it? At this point none of you are gonna convince him about anything, if you just go about sabotaging each others’ efforts.”

“I am afraid that none of us will not even have the opportunity to be sabotaged, before we are rejected by Mr Gaudreau. I hate to say it, but our only alternative appears to be forming a temporary alliance.”

“No deal.” The blonde man in a fancy red and black suit, whose portliness did little to compromise his youthful countenance, said as he leaned in on the pool table so as to aim the cue.

Victor was growing tired of being rejected, “I sincerely ask you to reconsider, Reeves. It really appears that Lucas Gaudreau is determined not to be persuaded. We are far more likely to find the right angle if we form an alliance for the purpose.”

“Not gonna happen, Vicky.” The cue shocked the white ball, which in turn scattered the lump of colourful balls like a swarm of insects, “I trust you as far as I can throw Manhattan.”

“What does that have to do with anything!?” Victor exclaimed, “Are you really under the persuasion that I trust you any better? Of course not! But I know that if we form an alliance, your efforts will invariably progress my plans. And you will find that the vice-versa is true for you as well! And that is really all that matters! How can you possibly justify refusing my aid?”

“Vicky, old buddy.” With a smug face Anslow circled the table, shooting glances towards the well-dressed older man, “You’re overthinking this way too much. If I can’t trust my allies, I can’t work together with them. It’s that simple. If you agree we can’t trust eachother, then you should understand that much.”

Victor opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The sentiment was so antithetical to his own world-view that he was completely unable to even start pointing out the errors in reasoning that Anslow expressed.

“Look… I don’t really need your help, all right?” Anslow aimed his cue once more, “I’ve got my own ways to deal with troublesome fellas like him. You just gotta apply just the right amount of pressure in just the right way, and he’ll come crawling back to me, begging me to let him accept my offer. You just wait and see.”

Victor didn’t know why he expected any other answer. Unlike Victor, the twenty-seven year old Anslow never had to struggle for his wealth. The exceedingly vast fortune of the Reeves Family had lasted for six generations. How could Anslow possibly know what it was like to need anything?

For old money like Anslow, who couldn’t possibly exhaust all of their resources if they tried, their lives are not so much about earning money, but spending it… And at least occasionally spending it wisely, even though strictly speaking it wouldn’t be necessary. After all, the only thing of value that is really at stake is their pride, and for men like Anslow their pride was as cheap as they come.

That is why Anslow treated this business like a game. Like a competition.

“If it is a competition you want, Anslow…” Victor said silently to himself, as a grim smile grew on his face, “...Then I shall be happy to comply.”

“Come again, Vicky?” Anslow said without looking up from his pool game.

“Oh, I was making myself ready to leave. Clearly we are at an impasse, and I see no need to extend negotiations when all it does is deplete valuable time.”

“For once, Vicky… You said something I can agree with.” Anslow struck the white ball with his cue.

Days turned to weeks. Victor sent surveyors and lawyers to harass the unsuspecting Lucas with complaints, warrants and obstructive bureaucracy, but nothing helped.

Anslow hired bad neighbours to drive him off the property, and even had hired thugs steal his car, to impress him with the idea that the neighbourhood wasn’t safe.

And yet nothing appeared to move this young man.

CLICK! CLA-CLA-CLACK! CLICK-CLICK! CLICK! CLACK!

Victor Hayden was in dire need of unwinding, and for him there was only one way to release stress properly. Dressed in his grey waistcoat, and with the sleeves of his light-blue shirt folded to his elbows, he struck in rapid succession at the unpainted martial arts dummy of cherry wood in the basement of Hayden Tower. The dummy resembled an overweight coat-rack, but with each peg inserted into a lever-like socket. That was what made the satisfying clicking sound connecting each punch with the next, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm as Victor fluidly struck the pegs one after another.

“Damnit!” CLICK-CLICK-CLACK! “Damnit all! Two months have passed! And are we even an iota closer to reaching a breakthrough? No! Damnit! That Anslow is going to drive me to an early grave!”

“Huh?” Emmie said from behind Victor and his dummy, at the desk on which the 24’’ monitor rested, “Having to contest with this Anslow guy, all the time and every time, really drives on your nerves this much?”

The woman with the long, curly auburn hair trapped in a ponytail that spewed out from the back of her hair like a bouquet of flowers before falling behind her back, was Emmie Carmen. She was Victor’s pet-nerd, as he called her, whose job was to research and develop the various grand and intricate ideas that regularly sprung into Victor’s mind during all hours of the day, as well as to maintain the technology that had been developed because of Victor’s ideas, but which he had deemed too valuable for the open market.

“Certainly not.” CLICK-CLI-CLI-CLACK! “The contests against him are, in and of themselves, trivial matters, if not stimulating. What does bother me is… Why? Why do we so often pursue the same enterprise? Why do I have to compete with him so often for the same goal? Am I to believe that he and I really have so much in common? That we think in exactly the same ways? That I can not accept!” CLICK! CLACK!

“I… Hmmm…” Emmie scratched her chin, “I see, well.. Look, if I’m gonna listen to your talk, and do my job at the same time… Can you at least tone down on the training over there?.”

“If what you are trying to do is find anything out about Lucas from his online profile…” CLICK-CLACK! CLACK! “...Then you are better off leaving it be. It has been done already, and all that ever came out of it was his many hours of lurking in the idol forums, and a few posts on those Fan Wiki sites. One would think a loner like that would have amassed quite the online footprint over the years.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Emmie said as she scrolled on the Excel sheet she had worked on for the past week, “No Facebook, no Gmail… Heck, no DeviantArt page! What’s this guy doing all day anyways? He isn’t hanging out with friends, that’s for sure. Still… I gotta do something while I wait for the DNA test to be finished… Which I suppose really should be just about done now. Let me just read up the results….”

“I hardly see this as anything but a stroke of desperation, but go ahead.” CLA-CLICK! Victor kicked the lower pegs of the dummy.

“Well, well… Looks like Lucas Guadreau, so called, is actually named Elijah Tours.”

“So this man is not who he says he is?” CLI-CLI-CLICK-CLACK! “Then who would that make him, if not someone who cannot use his real name freely? A former gangster? An illegal alien? A protected witness?”

“Mmmm…” Emmie bit her lower lip, “No. Nothing like that comes up in the registry. Bloodtype AB-... One eighth irish… Age is… Two!?”

CLICK…. PANG!!

As one of the pegs from the martial arts dummy fell to the floor with a solitary clack, an exasperated Victor turned towards Emmie, running his hand through his short, damp, grey hair.

“… What did you just say?”

“I- I’m sorry, Victor…”, Emmie’s fingers ran across the keyboard like a stung caterpillar, “Something must’ve gone wrong here. That can’t be right. I don’t know what happened, but… I’ll fix it, okay? I’ll just…”

“Heh…” Victor’s confused expression grew into a devious smile, “Hehehe… So that was his secret all along? Thank you, Emmie. Now I know exactly what angle I need to take.”

…Utterly hopeless.

Three years had passed since singer and idol Judy Carson retired from the scene in May of 2038, forever crushing web designer Elijah Tosh’s dream of seeing her show live. This devastated Elijah. He was left utterly bereft of courage.

It was then a unique opportunity presented itself: He could travel back to the 2020s, when Judy’s career first got started, and catch her very first performance. He would be able to witness Judy Carson enter the world stage with his very own eyes, as long as he can procure a ticket in time.

He may have squandered every opportunity to hear Judy live on stage that ever came in his life before, but not this time. This time he had needed a miracle to ever get another chance, and a miracle was what he got. He could not take this opportunity for granted, no matter what. He even bought a house in the very town where Judy would be performing for the first time, only two blocks away from the theatre where she would perform.

Fortunately it turned out that logging into the Internet of the future was trivial compared to moving an entire person to the past, and since Elijah could work from home, he could make a living even though many of his clients would not be born for another few years, and so could earn enough for a diet of cup ramen and paying the power bill.

Since then Elijah’s determination had been put to the test at every turn. He had been offered obscene amounts of money to move out. After that he had found himself constantly threatened and bullied, his time in the neighbourhood turning into a living nightmare.

Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to live in the 2020s?

But he never relented, and yet that determination proved futile. He turned up the first day at the stadium before sunrise to buy a ticket to Judy’s concert, but all the tickets had been pre-booked. He made an offer online at a ticket, at $15 000, over seven grand above the previous offer, but at the very last moment someone made a counter offer before Elijah could even react.

The concert was less than a week away, and his options were getting fewer every day. At that point he even considered contacting Anslow Reeves, to see whether his connections and vast resources could get him inside. Elijah had been warned not to involve himself and his time-travel shenanigans with the people of that time, but he was really getting ****. His cellphone rested on his palm, his thumb hovering over the call button of Anslow’s number…

RING!

Elijah sighed and put the phone back into his pocket and answered the door. Whoever that was better have a damn good reason to disturb him.

The moment he saw the bespectacled, mature face of Victor greeting him with a smile, Elijah threw the door. Victor caught the door before it could slam and put his foot between.

“Go away! You… You vampire!” Elijah pushed on the door trying to **** the resisting Victor out, “There’s nothing you can say that I would like to hear right now!”

“I understand… And I certainly would not wish to waste your time, Mr Tosh.” When Victor found that Elijah no longer pushed, he pulled the door to reveal the guest that had been obscured behind the door.

Elijah could hardly believe his eyes. Right in front of him was a young, chipper looking woman about a head shorter than Elijah, her caramel-coloured hair with pink highlights hanging down the length of her slender neck. Her eyes were like a pair of vibrantly blue topazes decorating a face so full of life and joy it was like she was bringing spring with her wherever she went.

“Elijah Tosh…” Victor gestured towards the young beauty, “Meet Judy Carson.”

“Nice to meet’cha!” The woman took a light, dance-like step towards a stunned Elijah, “I’ve heard you’re my biggest fan! You’ll come to see my concert, won’t’cha?” She grabbed his hands and winked.

Two days later, during the night a pair of ruffians in black clothes stepped in through the window they pried open to Lucas Guadreau’s house. The older one turned on the flashlight in his hand and scanned the living room, finding it conspicuously empty.

“Nothing here...” The younger one said, “Looks like this was a bust..”

“Who cares?” The older one snapped, “The boss just wanted us to mess up this place… You know? Spook the guy that lives here.”

As they made their way into the living room, no less than six men in body armour with sub machineguns popped up. They jumped out from behind the couch, from behind a lamp in the corner and from under the armchair, guns pointed at the two home intruders who all raised their hands reflexively.

“Don’t move!” The leader of the team commands, “On your knees. Now. Take out your cellphones, and slide them over.”

The burglars complied, and one of the soldiers picked up the cellphone, looking through the notifications of the phone, he contacted his employer through the microphone in his helmet.

“Ah, so you have apprehended them?” Victor said into his cellphone, “Exquisite. As expected, Mr Reeves’s contacts will be found on their cellphones as well. Would that not put our dear little Anslow in quite the predicament, you think? In all likelihood we would be able to tie him to **** affairs with this as well. If I play my cards right, I will have him under my thumb for years to come. Proceed to turn them over to the authorities, and hand the cellphones over to tech. That will be all.”

BEEEP!

“Another resounding success, Emmie.” With a smug grin, Victor looked over the beautiful cityscape rolled out beneath him like a meadow of flowers of light, from his balcony at Hayden Tower, as he pocketed his cellphone and poured a glass of porter.

“I… don’t get it.” Emmie said from behind him, “You figured it out, right? That this guy was a time traveller. So then you could… Do what exactly?”

Victor took a sip from his flute glass, “I could engineer our future, his past, into one beneficial for me. In this case by sponsoring and coaching this madame Carson into the astonishing success Elijah knew in his time.”

“Yeah, but… But how did you know why he time travelled to begin with? And how exactly did he manage to do that to begin with?”

“Emmie… You, of all people, should know that I am a Traveller myself.”

“Ah… Ah! So it was you who sent him back to begin with!”

“Yes. While in disguise, obviously.” Victor poured a glass for Emmie as well.

“Ah, so then… You kind of created your own problem, right?”

“Emmie… Occasionally you will find that the difference between a problem and an opportunity is purely one of semantics. I got the property that I wanted, and I pushed Anslow into a compromising position of which I am currently at full liberty to take advantage. Not to mention, this Carson girl is going to make for a significant asset.”

“Then all turned up sunshine and lollipops for you. As usual. Great. So what’s the moral of the story here? That you win cause you can travel through time?”

“A very concise and accurate way to put it, Emmie.” Victor sat himself down at the other side of the table from Emmie, as he handed her the glass, “Yes. This world is all about being at the right place at the right time. That is why I pushed my technology to its limit in pursuit of domesticating the procession of time. Anslow will never understand the value of this. That is the difference between him and me. And that is why he lost.” Victor looked out into the silhouetted city contrasted against luminous green clouds over a starry sky.

Over time Emmie Carmen had gotten so used to Victor that she forgot how sly and ruthless he can be. Perhaps it is best not to try and double cross him any time soon.

“To opportunity!” Victor raised his glass towards Emmie.

“Yes, opportunity.” Emmie raised her glass as well and sipped from it.