The Timeservers

Chapter 1

           Part One
May you live in interesting times.

Toronto, Ontario

The Governor of Northern Security Headquarters

December 2, 227 P.F.E

0145 hours

'Welcome to the future,' that's what they told Mythos when he got to this country. It didn't work out exactly as he planned.
Mythos has reached the strange point of the night when thoughts start to go in odd directions. He lets them, and that's where they go. He's not worried about falling down this rabbit hole and won't be interrupted any time soon, except by Hound's snoring.
Hound, Mythos' recruiter to the Guardians, trained Mythos for two months. He educated Mythos on New America's laws, technology, and government. After the training, he decided to borrow from Mythos's successes. The two developed an understanding. Hound drifts by from his old pristine record (Which Mythos is majorly questioning), and Mythos gets to operate as he chooses.
Right now, Mythos is not operating. He's settled in the shotgun seat of a shuttle, with one leg on the control panel and a book downloaded to read. The book loses his attention, so he puts down the screen he's reading it on and looks out the windshield to at least give the impression that he's doing his job.
The building the smuggler is operating from used to be a museum, the Royal Ontario Museum. Instead of building new facilities, they retrofitted old ones, usually decimating their intended use.
The ROM didn't fare well in its retrofit. It's a minor governor's office now. Guardians, private securities, and other people protecting the country's north use the building as headquarters. Tonight they're being used for means that the New government won't be happy about.
Mythos sees movement on the road in front of the museum and picks up his screen to zoom in on it. The person is trying to be stealthy and casual, and you have to pick one. He doesn't. He looks like a man who thinks he's a mouse and just walked in on a performance of Cats. Mythos rolls his eyes at the man's failed technique and waits for him to go inside. It takes a while for him to get around the locks on the glass front doors.
When the man gets inside, Mythos pokes Hound once to either try to wake him up or make sure he's alive before stepping out of the shuttle and pulling on his jacket. He checks for his badge, screen, and x-calibre handgun on the way to the door and smashes it with the butt of his gun. In a country where the citizens are supposed to be intelligent and good, the idiot criminal can get away with murder.
Mythos steps through the shattered glass and strides into the central atrium as he pulls out his screen. He uses an infra-red setting to follow the man's footsteps right to the second floor, what used to be the Egyptian section.
His skin crawls as he thinks about the mummies that were once displayed, now replaced by utilitarian desks and cubicles. It's a maze and gives the smuggler an unfortunate advantage. Mythos keeps his weapon ready for assurance and takes a deep breath before rounding the corner to confront the man.
"Freeze, by order of the Guardians!" Mythos aims his gun at the man he was surveying and the Governor of Northern Security. There are several other people huddled in the corner, and they have the characteristic sunken cheeks and hopeless expressions of high strikers.
"Oh, I should have read that file better." Mythos bites his lip and looks desperately around the room for historical art or weaponry. Maybe the smuggled stuff is things they found in a forgotten corner of the museum instead of humans wanting to escape.
The governor steps forward with his arms raised and a cold expression. "You don't know what you're doing, son. Go back to the Spire. That's an order."
The man Mythos saw earlier turns around and takes off a pair of glasses to reveal gold in his eyes- a tell-tale sign of being a Historian. "Historian," the man says to Mythos. The gold flecks in Mythos' eyes betray him as also being from that side, the wrong one.
"You're smuggling these people out of New America?"
"Go home and forget what you saw here," the governor presses.
"I don't answer to you."
One of the people starts crying, a young child. Their mother shushes them, dragging them close to her chest. Mythos wants to scream. Morals and duty start duking it out in his heart and mind. He'd rather run through what had been the Mesopotamia section and throw himself through the observation window than have to deal with all this.
There's a sinking feeling in his chest when he realizes what all this is about. It's a test. If he passes- turning these people in- it will prove his allegiance to New America. They like to find new and torturous ways of ensuring he won't betray them. Each seems more like a twisted social experiment brought to life.
"You'll get caught."
"Maybe, but we have to try. Even if the people get captured, they'll live better than they do now," the governor explains.
The Historian nods and clasps his hands behind his back, straightening. "Think about your roots. We can take you with us and bring you home to North America, and you'll be free."
"I can't. I don't have roots."
"Then think about what your life would be if you weren't fortunate enough to qualify as a Guardian," the governor tries, rushing toward Mythos with pleading.
Mythos recognizes the misdirection and turns toward the Historian instead. The Historian draws a dart gun from behind his back, shooting quickly. Mythos knows he can dodge, easily taking out the Historian, the governor, and any of the escapees who might try to fight him. He doesn't. Mythos watches time slow, a side effect he'd come to rely on, and waits for the dart to hit. He manages to kick the governor before the dart strikes and tries not to look too relieved when it sends him to the ground with the consciousness draining from him. He lifts his gun and fires at a spot close to the Historian, already not the best shot and made worse with his blurred and sleepy eyes.
The Historian's gold eyes meet Mythos's, and understanding passes between them. This man can't free Mythos, but that doesn't mean the laws of New America completely trap him.