Heroes Chapter 8 These Pieces are Broken

She ran through the woods, panting, the dried blood coating her hands as a nightmarish reminder of what she had done, a small voice in her ears leading her this way. She had no idea where she was going or who she was talking to, but the voice kept telling her to just run forward. Someone would be waiting for her, just a few more feet. Her legs were starting to hurt, her rich black hair was plastered to her head because of the sweat, her heart pounding in her ears, and there he was, Manfred von Richthofen, the terrifying man who kept to himself. He didn’t even greet her, just turned and she followed him to this strange and magical place, where people lived and died and lived again. Aveline walked down the stairs towards the basement, where Richard Feynman would be working on cracking the labyrinth that was Ira’s system. It had been his voice that brought her here, it must have been six, maybe eight months (such a strange word) ago and he had been the one who gave her a proper introduction to the world of the Time Keepers. They were a strange lot, former citizens of Hyperborea who, like her, had realized that something wasn’t right. Many of them had been guided by the Time Keeper’s propaganda and had been recruited by the man they called Wilhelm Canaris, but not Aveline. She had discovered it on her own. She had had no clear idea why the Guardians were wrong, she just knew she needed to get away from them. She had been one of Hector’s consultants and one of his personal favorites. That was the only reason he let her in there with him as he performed the Oswald Procedure on one of the unpeacefuls. That was the only reason she had been able to grab that scalpel.

Aveline frowned when she reached the dim basement with the dizzying arrange of computer screens flashing with random batches of data and she didn’t see Feynman. He was always down here.
“Looking for Dick?”
She jumped as Malala uncurled from her chair. She was wearing her purple and blue dress that Feynman had once described as popular in the Middle East (Aveline still wasn’t sure what that meant) and her purple and blue Venetian butterfly mask, her emerald, sphinxlike eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Yes, I wanted to…he was giving me lessons,” she muttered, still nervous around the others, especially the originals.
Malala smiled, “He’s taking a well-deserved rest.”
“Oh.”
“I can tell him you were looking for him.”
“No, it’s ok.”
Malala was not warm, but she wasn’t as cold and standoffish as Manfred von Richthofen and Jean Moulin. At least Aveline didn’t feel that same funny feeling she felt around Turning around Malala. Feynman had told her that he, Malala, and Themistocles were originally from Earth, that strange planet they all called home, and they were the first to see the evil that was inherit to the Guardian’s society. So they created this place, a safe haven for those who wanted another life, and they created the Time Keepers, a militant branch to work towards the Guardian’s end. She had met the others, the ones who only wanted to learn about their past and develop a better world once the Guardians fell. She liked them, but she wanted to do more.
“Is there anything else?” asked Malala, watching her closely.
Aveline looked down as she wrung her hands.
“I’ve…I’ve picked my name.”
Malala straightened.
“Really?”
“Yes, Ada Lovelace,” she looked up with a grin, “I thought Feynman would find that funny.”
“Yes, he will appreciate it,” Malala smiled, “Have you picked a face yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Are you thinking of taking a more active role?”
“I want to help Feynman break Ira. I think we can make far more progress together than letting him do all the work by himself.”
Her emerald eyes flashed from behind the mask and Aveline knew she could see right through her.
“Or does he prefer to work alone?”
“No, but he’s not alone. He has Sin-Itiro.”
“Yes, but Sin-Itiro is not here. He’s in HQ 2. I could be useful because I would be working at his side.”
Malala hid a smirk and Aveline knew she was making a fool of herself.
“You should talk to Feynman about it.”
“Yes, I will.”
Aveline turned to walk up the stairs before turning to face Malala.
“Do you think he would say no?”
“I think he’ll be amused by your offer.”
“But will he say no?”
Malala gave her an enigmatic smile before turning to face the screens again.

Aveline sighed as she walked up the stairs, towards the main level. Feynman called this the museum and it was a room full of old artifacts from Earth. She had looked at these things many times as she tried to understand where she was and who she had come from. It was still strange to think of herself as a human and to understand that all of these people had come before her and were a part of her. The others spoke with such reverence when they mentioned these people, but all Aveline saw were faces and strange devices. She still couldn’t quite believe that these were her ancestors. Her dark brown eyes widened and she swallowed as she saw Richthofen wandering the hall. He was the only Time Keeper Aveline actively disliked. She didn’t know why but there was something about him that was off. It also didn’t help that Feynman couldn’t stand him and didn’t make his hatred unknown. Some of the other Time Keepers had told her that Richthofen had once worked for the Guardians, but this was a place for new beginnings. She didn’t know how she felt about that. She held her breathe and tried to hide in the shadows as Richthofen approached her, praying he wouldn’t notice her.
“Why are you hiding?”
She squeaked and jumped.
“I uh I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Richthofen had a shaved that revealed a hideous scar on the back of his head, arresting blue eyes, and a black Venetian mask of an eagle with his wings spread and its beak open. He wore the thick grey uniform of a German Aviator during one of the world wars (Aveline could never remember how many there had been) and crisp, black, knee high boots. His arms were folded behind his back as he stared her down, dissecting her the way Turing used to.
“You can’t disturb me.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that statement so she settled with an, “oh.”
“They say you want to take an active part in our war.”
“Yes, I’m going to help Feynman break Ira’s system.”
He nodded his head, his eyes sliding out of focus.
“You’ll need a name and a face.”
“I have a name. Picked it this morning.”
He looked at her intrigued.
“Ada Lovelace.”
“Byron’s daughter.”
“Yes, and the world’s first computer programmer.”
“Rumored to be a whore with a severe gambling addiction.”
Aveline frowned.
“And you are a murderer.”
His eyes flashed and she took a step back, wishing she still had the scalpel.
“Funny coming from you.”
“He didn’t die,” she said bitterly.
“Better for you,” he said, and his face softened and even his mask seemed to droop, “You don’t have to live with it hanging over your head.”
She furrowed her eyebrows as she watched the fascinating change. He was no longer standing tall and erect, a proud German. Instead he was wizen, almost doubled over with some unknown pain, and his eyes were staring at her anymore, but somewhere in the far distance.
“Richthofen?”
“Do you have a face?” he asked, snapping back like a boomerang.
“No, not yet.”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her.
“Come.”
Without another word, he marched down the hallway, leaving Aveline half a second to run away.
“Come!” he called just as she was about to dart to the stairs.
With a sigh, she ran after him, amazed at his pace. She ran and he marched deep into the museum, Aveline feeling like she being lost in time, until he finally stopped at a display of two women dressed in frills and low cut dresses with pushed out rears. He stepped into the display, Aveline wincing as she was certain that wasn’t allowed, and pulled a mask off one of the dummies.
“This is your new face.”
She took it nervously and her eyes widened as she studied it. It was a turquoise blue eye mask, studded with diamonds, and on the right hand side was a rich plume of peacock feathers.
“Something only Byron’s daughter would wear.”
She looked up with a small smile.
“Thank you.”
“After the name, the face is the most important part. It is who you will be.”
“Until we win anyway,” she added.
His eyes unfocused again and he frowned.
“Yes, victory will free us all.”
Her face softened and she wondered if he really should be left alone.
“Why don’t you follow me upstairs?” she said, “I’m sure Moulin is looking for you.”
“No, I have things to do,” he said, turning away and wandering down the hall again, “Good luck, Ada.”
She frowned as he took a right and disappeared.

She walked upstairs towards her bedroom (her bedroom another strange thought), the blue mask in her hands. Aveline hated to admit it, but it was a very nice mask and she had grown very fond of it during  the time it took her to find her room again. She had asked the others about Richthofen and they always either brushed her off or took her that the Guardians had tried to perform the Oswald Procedure on him and it had gone terribly wrong. She thought about what he said and wondered if there was anyone else besides Manfred von Richthofen. She didn’t know anyone’s real names. It wasn’t safe just in case they were collected or Ira found a way inside their minds, but she knew everyone had them. As she thought about Richthofen, she wondered if anyone even remembered them. Aveline paused as she reached Feynman’s door and bit her lip. She knew she shouldn’t, that he deserved his rest, but at the same time. Her shaking hand slowly wrapped itself around the knob and she held her breath as she quietly pushed the door open. She peered around the door and smiled when she saw Feynman sprawled in his bed, his Venetian jester mask on the floor, his uniform still on. Poor man. She rested her head against the door as she watched him sleep. He was a little older than she was, with crazy brown hair and a hint of stubble on his chin. He wasn’t handsome, but he was very charming and it was his voice  that had pulled her out of the woods. His voice that saved her not only from the Guardians, but herself. She looked down at the blue mask and smiled. He would like it except for the feathers. They would drive him crazy. And she could never tell him who gave it to her. He didn’t want Aveline to talk to Richthofen at all. She had always meant to ask why. She looked up and slowly entered the room, careful to silently close the door, before placing her mask on his crowded dresser. She gently sat down at the end of the bed and held her breath as he muttered under his breath and rubbed his nose. Her face softened as she slowly laid down next to him, careful not to wake him, and rested her head against his shoulder. She smiled as he mmmed and she closed her eyes.

Maxwell woke with a start and blinked profusely as he tried to remember where he was. Shit. He closed his eyes as he rested his hand on his forehead. Still here. Still a Time Keeper. Every time he went to bed he hoped he would wake up in his bunk back in Switzerland, Daniel yelling at him that they were going to be late, and this entire thing had been nothing but one long nightmare. Each morning he was bitterly disappointed. He let out an ack at how dry his mouth was and wondered what the hell it was about sleep that made him feel like he had just transverse the Sahara. As he tried to shift, he noticed that something heavy was resting on his shoulder. He opened his eyes a crack and they widened when he saw Aveline sleeping next to him. What the? He blinked and wondered if he was still dreaming. He considered pinching himself, but reprehended himself for wanting to ruin such a wonderful dream. Instead he snuggled close to her, wrapped an arm around her, and rested his chin against her head, strands of her black hair tickling his nose, causing him to smile.
“So you don’t mind?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
“Who am I to complain about waking up to a beautiful woman in my bed?”
He opened his eyes as she rose and looked down at him. He brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled.
“You should have done this sooner.”
“I would have but you never sleep.”
He smirked as she shifted and laid down in his arms again.
“I’ve picked a name.”
“Shhh, that stuff can wait,” he said, tracing her cheek.
She looked up at him.
“Can it?”
“Just for a few minutes.”
Her face softened as he rested a hand on her cheek.
“Do you really think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes, the first thing I told Themistocles when I saw you was that you had a Greta Garbo thing going on.”
She furrowed her eyebrows.
“Was she beautiful?”
“Very.”
“Will you let me help you break Ira’s system?”
“Is that what you want?”
She nodded her head.
“It’s going to be very frustrating.”
“I know, I’ve watched you do it for the past six months.”
He smiled.
“I want to help.”
“And you’re saying I need the help the most.”
“Well it was either you or Richthofen.”
His face tightened and she impulsively kissed his cheek. Her face fell and she bit her lip.
“I’m-”
“Shhh.”
He rest a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss, a real kiss. She held her breath as she felt his lips against hers, she could actually taste him, not some faint impulse designed by Ira, but his actual taste and feel and his fingers running through her hair. She pushed into the kiss, pushing him onto his back, as she climbed on top of him, desperate to feel someone for the first time.