S1, 20 Return (FB) (February 17, 2015)

Corresponding text underneath each picture.

**10th January 2095: Present Day**

John, the old man who’s home Tracks and I were hiding out in, had offered us food and shelter for as long as we needed it, however I knew that the GI would still be hunting us. We had to get away as soon as possible. However with Tracks’ broken leg and the Viper still crashed in a field, we didn’t really have much choice but to stay put for the time being.

But after spending nearly two days working on the scrap metal we’d gathered, I had created what I believed to be a solid new leg for Tracks. It even looked a little better than his original, I thought to myself.

Although we needed to get away as soon as possible, one more night couldn’t hurt, so I instructed Tracks to power down for a while to get some rest. I informed our host that by the time he awoke in the morning, we would be gone and he very kindly put together some food parcels to take with us. I thanked him and then joined Tracks in getting some sleep.

When I woke, it was the middle of the night. Perfect for us.

I turned Tracks back on and after picking up the food parcels, we quietly left the house and made our way through the darkness back to the crash site.

We spent the rest of the night working on the Viper and by daybreak the damage had been repaired. We were free.

Except, although we could now leave, something was holding me back. Something nagging at the back of my mind and it took me a good amount of time to realise what it was.

Earth. This is my homeworld. The world where all the humans, who had now spread out among the galaxy, had come from. And yet now, for me at least, it was a hostile place. The homeworld of the Galactic Imperium. The planet was home to both friend and foe alike.

Home.

*HOME!* That was it! The nagging feeling! I knew what I had to do now.

Chain: “Tracks! We’re taking a detour!” I called to him as I climbed into the cockpit.

**A little while later…**

Flying low across both the continent and then the ocean to avoid detection, we headed West, back towards America. We hit the coast and followed it a little way North and when the city became visible in the distance, I set the Viper down in a field on the outskirts of a small town.

‘There it is’. I thought to myself as I climbed out, gazing at the city. New York.

I instructed Tracks to stay and guard the ship and I ventured into town to the train station, which I knew was there from my years living in the city.

After a brief wait for the train to arrive, I boarded it, the mag-lev repulsors kicked in and in seconds I was speeding back towards my old home.

I got off one station early on purpose and walked the rest of the distance to my destination.

And then there it was. The apartment block that housed my parent’s old penthouse suite. I took a deep breath and then went inside.

Since the murder of my parents, the apartment had been left untouched, in memory of them both, as they were much loved members of the city’s elite. There was nobody in the lobby and so I was able to get straight into an elevator and ride it all the way to the top. The keypad asked for the clearance code to visit my level. I typed in the code that we used when I was a child but it bleeped a nugatory answer. I frowned and prized a panel away from the wall next to the keypad. A few moments and some re-wiring later, the elevator was on the move to the top floor.

There was a soft ‘*ding*’ as we came to a halt and slowly the doors slid open.

I was here. Back where it all happened.

With another calming breath, I stepped from the elevator and into the corridor. Ahead of me at the far end of the corridor were four doors. The one on the left led to my parent’s room. The one beyond that was my old room, the one on the end was the bathroom and the one on the right was the kitchen.

But just to my right at this end of the corridor, was the door in to the main living room. I slowly walked forwards and turned to face into the room that was the scene of my nightmares for the best part of my life.

Of course, during the day, as it was now, it looked perfectly ordinary. The sun shone through the multiple windows and the whole place seemed light and airy. The old, wooden grandfather clock still ticked and the statues still stood on their pedestals.

I ventured slowly further inside, looking all about me at the home I had once known. I came to a halt just behind the sofa, just by the area where I had discovered my parent’s laying murdered on the ground.

I pulled off my hat in respect and gritted my teeth to hold back the tears, as the memories of that night filled my mind. I gently shook my head, wondering what on Earth could have happened. All these years later and still I didn’t know the truth.

The truth.

Mr. Grey had promised it to me and still he had not delivered. How much more ‘work’ was I going to have to do for him before he spilled?

I had to look away before I got too upset but as I did so, something caught my eye. There on the ground beside one of the cabinets was a photograph. An old one at that. I bent down and picked it up.

It was at this point that I realised the picture was torn. A section from the end was missing; appearing to have been ripped off on purpose. But who would have done that? And why? I studied the photo in more detail and realised that I remembered it from my childhood. It had always been framed and sat on the cabinet I was stood next to. I looked and sure enough, there was the empty frame laying in the dust.

Dust!

I looked more at the dust for clues as to when the photo had been moved, but the dust layer was just as thick on the frame as it was everywhere else. Whoever had taken the picture out and ripped it, it must have happened soon after the murders.

I turned my attention back to the picture itself and nearly choked as I realised who was in it.

It was a group photo of seven people, most of whom I didn’t recognise. But at the front of the picture were my parents. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I gazed at the image in my hands. I brushed it away and spent a good minute simply looking at my parents.

With sadness I moved my eyes away from them and looked over the other people in the picture, seeing if I recognised anybody. I remembered one of the men, the one just left of my father in the photo. I didn’t know his name or anything about him but I remember he was one of the frequent visitors to our apartment.

He always brought me sweets.

I liked him.

But other than that, I couldn’t say that I knew any of the others. Not that I remembered anyway. But they were clearly all friends of my parents.

Of course, the question that remained was, who was in the missing portion of the photo?

I tucked the photo into an inside pocket of my coat and turned to face out of the window.

*The window.*

Suddenly, like a slap in the face, a memory from that fateful night hit me. A lone curtain; flapping in the breeze.

That on its own meant nothing, however, on that night that was the only curtain to have been moving and we had only just returned from the theatre, there would have been no widows open to create a breeze!

I rushed over to it and looked all around. Of course, there was nothing to be seen now, but I decided to look more closely just in case.

After examining the seal around the opening part of the window, I discovered nothing, however when I opened it up and looked outside, I could faintly see pressure marks on the lock. Somebody had opened the window from the outside!

So I *hadn’t* been the only other person in the flat! Somebody, the real murderer, had snuck in through the window! But we were over a hundred stories up! How they got up here was another mystery, however there were many possible explanations. Jetpack, abseiled from the roof, zip wired from another building, possibly even climbed up the outside with the help of suction pads. That was a question I couldn’t answer right now.

I closed the window and then plonked myself down on the sofa with an audible sigh. For a moment I just sat and stared at the big blank TV screen in front of me, but then I reached into my satchel and pulled out my comlink.

Keying in Mr. Grey’s code, I had to wait a surprising amount of time before he answered and when he did, he seemed very irritable.

Mr. Grey: “Yes? What is it?”

Chain: “I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything, but we need to talk.”

Mr. Grey: “Can’t it wait?”

Chain: “No. I’ve waited long enough.”

Mr. Grey paused and appeared to think.

Chain: “I want answers. About my parent’s murders. You promised them to me and so far all that’s happened is I’ve run around the galaxy doing errands for you and I’ve gotten nothing in return.”

Again. Mr. Grey waited a few seconds before saying anything, but when he did he seemed to have calmed down a little.

Mr. Grey: “Frank,”

I winced internally as he used my real name.

Mr. Grey: “Yes I promised you answers, but now is not the right time.”

Chain: “What do you mean, not the right time?” I started getting angry. “I’m sat in the same room that my parents were killed in and you’re telling me that now is not the right time?! I can’t think of a *BETTER* time!"

Mr. Grey seemed taken aback when I said where I was. He seemed genuinely shocked but there was something else underneath the shock, something I couldn’t quite read, not through the hologram. But whatever it was, it confused me out of my anger. What was that?

But no sooner had I noticed it that it was gone.

Mr. Grey: “Frank, you aren’t ready yet. The truth may be bigger than you realise.”

Chain: “Oh yeah? Try me.”

Mr. Grey: “No. I know you are not up to it yet. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Chain: “Do you? Do you really?” My anger started to surface again.

Mr. Grey: “Yes. Yes I do. Now, unless there is anything else…”

I cut him off at that point.

Chain: “Actually there is. I’ve found something.”

Mr. Grey: “Go on…”

I paused, wondering whether or not I should actually tell him about the ripped photograph I’d found. I was going to but then decided not to. That was a matter that I would look into myself. There was no need to concern him with it.

Chain: “The window. I remember seeing the curtain blowing just before my parents died, but the window wasn’t open. There must have been somebody else, hidden, in the room. I checked the window and found that the lock had been forced from the outside. Whoever killed my parents came in through the window.”

I don’t know what I’d expected Mr. Grey’s reaction to be but it certainly wasn’t the one he gave.

Mr. Grey: “Well of course.” He stated bluntly.

Chain: “Excuse me?” I asked, confused.

Mr. Grey: “Well naturally they came in through the window. There are only two possibilities for how the assailant got in; through the window or through the front door. I don’t know how much you remember from your childhood but that building used to have pretty sophisticated security systems in place and so coming in through the main door without proper authorisation would have meant certain death. Which leaves the windows as the only other means of entrance.”

Chain: “Oh….” I felt pretty stupid. I thought I had made some great discovery, found a clue, the next step on the road to the truth, but it turned out that all I’d done was work out what was blatantly obvious to everyone else.

Mr. Grey: “And of course the assailant would have had to have been inside the apartment <i>before</i> you returned home, otherwise your parents would have heard them entering the room. Which means that the murderer would have had to find a good hiding place to wait.”

Chain: “Behind the curtain!” I exclaimed, as my theory was confirmed. “That’s what I saw moving! But of course, I took no notice of it at the time!”

Mr. Grey: “Oh Frank. If only you’d investigated there and then, your parents may have lived.”

That hurt. That hurt a lot. Even the way he said it sounded condescending. Before I could say anything though, he continued.

Mr. Grey: “*BUT* of course we can’t change the past.” He said, his tone of voice changing back to his usual calm self.

Chain: “Unfortunately.”

Mr. Grey: “Indeed.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I know I promised you answers, Frank, and soon enough, answers you will get. But right now, you must wait.”

Chain: “Wait for what?”

Mr. Grey: “For me to tell you.” he put blankly but then paused again. “Look, why don’t you stay there for a little while. Relax. I don’t have anything for you to do at the minute. It would be good for you to stop running around the whole time.”

Chain: “Finally, something we both agree on.”

Mr Grey: “I will ensure you are not disturbed. Stay there until I have need of you again. Understood?”

Chain: “Okay,” I nodded. “But when do *I* get some answers?”

Mr. Grey: “All in good time, my friend. All in good time.”

And with that, he ended the transmission.

I sighed. That was a good an answer as I was going to get.

**BONUS PICTURES:**

The train station set.

A better look at the way I lit the station.

As my series is going to be jumping around though time, I will include a date on each episode and add it to the timeline at the end of each episode so that you can follow it.

TIMELINE