Earnest Harold Penrose, known by his friends as Earney, the great adventurer, a science man, at the time, he would not have seen Captain Jaclyn Locke, who was then called just Jaclyn Locke, any different from the young adults of her day.  She wore the black uniform of the Policeman, and the insignia of The Great States, etched in Silver thread to her front pocket, and her blood red hair, shaved at the sides, only a mop not spoiled at the top, was combed back. She was the perfect specimen of her sector.

 

She remembered how he tried to side step her, as she walked towards him. She had stopped and had saluted him. He had first looked startled, but when he followed her gaze, he saw his own insignia on his white coat jacket. His fair, sandy hair went into his eyes momentarily, but as he looked up, she saw his maroon-colored eyes, secretly the color of her favorite lip-stick. He had looked at her, and she had known even then that he was not a normal young man of twenty. He had saluted back, but had lacked the respect as he smiled lightly. She remembered her aggravation.

 
“Why are you smiling? She answered rudely, feeling that no one had any respect for the simplest rules. She scanned him with her eyes. She had implants now. Her eyes were like lasers or at least she was told. Letters came out of now where and settled in the foreground, just in front of the man. They were big enough that she could read them with no problem.
 
“Dr. Earnest Harold Penrose”
 
He nodded to confirm the information, even if it wasn’t necessary, as the Police were up-graded within seconds.
 

She respected his privacy, as she had too and read his employers name, and living locations to herself. He was a government employee, which meant she did not have access to any further information about his work.
 
“And, your name?”
 
She stopped scanning him, and looked back at him. The young doctor was looking at her. Her wrinkle in the middle of her forehead became more prominent.
 
“This is not a acquaintance party, why are you not at work, there is no alarm?” She said and looked at him.
 
The young man eyed her carefully this time. His purple eyes steady. She did not blink, but stared back at him evenly.
 
“You’re new.” He stated flatly.
 
She ignored the comment as she looked up and down at him.
 
“I can fine you or detain you for loitering in the streets. ” She looked down at his wardrobe. He had on a white lab coat, but instead of his white shoes, his feet were bare.
 
She lifted one of her eyebrows slightly. He seemed to have guessed her next question.
 
“Yes. I am barefoot. It feels nice to walk without shoes. I feel like I’m still on Earth. You know?”
 
She did not know, and took out something thin and silver, and started pressing buttons on it.
 
He tightened the hold on the things in his hands, and approached her until he was in her reach. She stood her ground, as she was always told, and had her weapon finger tips away. He seemed to know his distance, as he stopped, but his friendly smile was gone. He looked older now then his age.
 
“They are cleaning everything out. I HAVE to see it.”
 
She thought. If there were something urgent, blocks, especially streets away, she would know. She was assigned to patrol the streets.
 

“Who is doing what? Is there an emergency?” Her voice took on a more series tone. She felt herself feel the rush of a possible chase. She had not seen a real crime yet.
 
“The National Museum of Art”
 
She looked at him, and her eyes began their scan again.
 
“What is wrong with the building?”
 
The men ran his hand through his blond hair and looked steady at her.
 
“Back in its day, it was the Old City Museum; The City that was going to be remembered. And, before then, the museum was just one of many. It was the Metropolitan. When they moved the National Museum down the street, father said it would stay as it is; but, they kept adding things.”
 
He adjusted his white jacket, which was a little too big on him. A cold draft hit them. She remained rooted to her stance, without moving even a little. He continued, he let himself take his time.
 
“There is no place for Rembrandt or the old masters, not even for paintings of Washington, if you will. There is no place anywhere that they will preserve. I can’t see why they wouldn’t announce whatever else they are building in its place. But, it is what I told my father; they clean things out as if it’s recycle. What is it to them? ”
 
“Them?” She asked, and hesitated if to not reach and grasp the weapon. The man was obviously out, in the streets, rambling, although an official of the SCIENCE sector, she could easily detain him.
 
The young man looked at her, and sighted. He seemed to have lost his cool, but then he looked again as if he was going to smile.
 
“Who is Them? You’re a Them, and I’m a Them too. We are to blame. But… ” He reached for the things in his hands.
 
“Stop, do not move.” She pointed a small, silver gun at him. It was her favorite possession naturally after she passed all her tests. Everyone wanted one. She got a revolver something something. It fit on her belt perfectly.
 
She held out the silver gun in front of him, and he froze, some of what was in his hands fell to the floor. They were some kind of pieces of something. He looked like he was holding broken parts of some kind, but they were light so that the air blew them in different directions. One triangle shaped object landed on her foot. She kicked it away. The material turned, and there were words on it, and below the words there was a picture of a large citadel, with many towers, thin and elegant.
 
“What is this?” She was genuinely confused, but stated her question sharply.
 
He still had his arms up after she pointed the something something at him. She lowered the weapon. He didn’t move, but he didn’t seem to have lost his speech. He cleared his throat.
 
“It’s the Great Citadel; pride of architects and scientists. My father has asked me to join the Citadel. I believe…. that is what is going to replace the Museum. It’s an honor to work there. But, they are up to their necks in Them.”
 
He smiled now, but she didn’t understand the joke as she looked steady at him.
 
“I apologies, I’m sure you have better things to do then to listen to me. But, I must go. Will you let me leave?”
 
She crossed her hands, but her eyes were already moving. She was searching for something; in the process she had turned her head to the side. The doctor was wrong. There was no cleaning up of old buildings. She did not see anything about a museum.
 
“There is no..”
 
And, she blinked a few times, and realized she had let him slip.
 
*** revolver something something (I’m not good with gun names)
 

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