Alec Gibelyou 1 Biding Time For a moment, Emmett stood at the window, gazing westward toward the horizon.

Great plumes of smoke billowed in front of the sunset, casting shadows that crawled over abandoned houses. Theyre coming closer, Weston, he said, turning away from the sunlight. Theyll reach the city soon. I need to get moving. So do you. What did you call me to see? A bomb sounded in the distance, and Emmett felt the floor shiver under his feet. Weston stood not five feet away, wearing a smirk to match the pride in his eyes. Forgive the delay, my friend, said Weston, maintaining unblinking eye contact all the while. I had work that I could not leave unfinished, but youll soon see that we have all the time we need. He paused, but only stood and continued to smile, as if waiting for something. Shadows slithered in through the windows. Emmett took a step toward Weston, anger rising into his face. While he lingered here, his comrades stood ready to give their lives should the enemy breach the city. What right did this mad magician have to waste his time? I dont share your carelessness, or whatever you call your attitude, he growled. You told me you wanted me to see your work. I want to see whats important enough to keep you in the city when everyone else has left. Show me. The smile vanished from Westons face, and confusion replaced his look of pride. Naturally, he said. Right this way. Without another word, he turned his back to Emmett and began to walk away in that carefree, ponderous manner that annoyed Emmett so. Another bomb sounded in the distance. Emmett watched a small clock as it skittered across one of Westons many shelves. Normally, he could tolerate Westons foolishness without any trouble, but not with an army

Alec Gibelyou 2 marching on the city! The man should have left during the evacuation! Was his tinkering more important than the protection of the city? But the Defense Commission remembered Westons contributions to the armory years before, and they were afraid to ignore his cries in a time of crisis. And they couldnt send just any soldier send Emmett, the strategist, in case he needed to make an important decision. They came to the door of Westons basement bunker, and Emmett fumed as Weston ponderously punched in his code. Another bomb rumbled, closer this time. The door to the bunker slid open, and Weston turned to flash a triumphant smile before moseying to another door to a smaller vault. With infuriatingly slow movements, he entered a second code. A curved bolt rotated counterclockwise and Weston pulled the vault open with a mighty heave, then gestured inside with another triumphant grin. Emmett stared into the vault with a mixture of incredulity and indignation. Jars, he spat. You brought me here to see a vault full of empty jars. They lined the walls of the vault, which were really no more than stacks of shelves. They were plain glass jars, like the ones city storehouses used for food only weeks before the war broke out. When bomb tremors reached the vault, the jars chattered excitedly amongst themselves. Weston laughed. Perhaps he meant to sound intimidating, but merely sounded mad. His breathy cackle echoed in the emptiness of the bunker, returning after he cut himself off with a gasp. No! he cried. He stepped into the vault, seized a jar and raised it over his head. This is so much more. Keeping his eyes locked on Emmett, he slowly lowered the jar and put his hand on the lid. The bottle isnt empty, you see. Emmett stumbled back. Just a moment before, Weston had been standing in the vault. Now he stood face to face with Emmett and he had not moved at all. What is this, Weston? he cried, indignation giving way to awe.

Alec Gibelyou 3 Weston laughed again, but he sounded slightly worn, as if wearied at the end of a long day. He still sounded mad. The bottles are full, he said. Ive filled them with time. Time enough to move unseen, time enough to flee the city whenever I wish or time enough to dance around the enemy while they stand still. The walls rumbled with the force of another bomb, and Emmett offered a silent query with surprised but harsh eyes. The jars chittered their amusement. Think back to the days before the war, when we stored excess food in jars like these back when excess food was still around. Ive taken hours, days, maybe years of my life and stored them, ready to be released and used when it matters most! As Weston made his speech, he walked back into the vault, and Emmett followed him, looking curiously at the jars. Take one! continued Weston. From his eyes shone the glory that he saw in his mind. At first I could only store and recall my own time at will, but now I believe Ive found a way that time can be stored in one bottle by one man and released for use by another. Think of what could be done! We dont need to leave the city when we can destroy the enemy in the blink of an eye! As he listened to Weston, keeping his thoughts of the man to himself, Emmett took one of the jars from its shelf. He nearly dropped it in surprise when he saw his hand through the glass, gnarled and wreathed in wrinkles. Slowly, he brought it up to eye level between himself and Weston, but through the jar of time he saw nothing but the walls of the vault. Suppressing a shiver, Weston put the jar back on its shelf. Surely, he said, with good time management, something like this would be totally unnecessary. Westons grin retreated, but it left the ghost of a complacent smirk. Unnecessary? What does that have to do with it? Besides, I can use my time when it will be most effective, instead of using it when its given to me. He scoffed. At any rate Somewhere close to the house, another bomb struck. Tremors more severe than any that had yet come shook the vault, and jars leapt from every shelf in the vault to crash on the floor. Though

Alec Gibelyou 4 the air was still in the vault, and even the shards of broken jars seemed to hang uncertainly only an inch or two off the ground, Emmett could feel something rushing past him from behind rushing toward Weston. Seconds lingered like hours in the vault. Emmett hung suspended in the moment while Weston, unable to move, felt his lost years returning to him. Wrinkles webbed his face like cracks before his gray, whitening hair grew to conceal them. Too slow to flee before his surprise, Westons grin exposed his teeth, already loose from shrinking gums. He did not even have time to raise his hands, now curled into crumpled fists. The life left his eyes, but he still had time to account for, and Emmett watched in horror as the old man, now a corpse, continued to decay and wither until only a pile of dust lay on the floor of the vault. Silence pervaded a moment longer. As soon as Emmett felt able to move again, he wasted no time in fleeing to rejoin his comrades on the battle front. He had no reason to bide his time here in a madmans dusty vault. What would he tell the Defense Commission? Weston simply failed to evacuate in time and was killed by a blast from one of the bombs? Could they believe the truth that the years Weston had tried to shackle broke free and turned on him? One jar teetered precariously on its shelf after Emmett had gone. A final tremor knocked it to the ground with the other broken jars. Stirred by an ageless wind, Westons remains scattered amidst the shards of all the moments he never thought to use.