Flitz and the Girl from Jamonka
For those wanting more than shallow and limited expressions of our faith in literature, you may want to take a look at my first book in a series exploring the battle between God's people and their enemies trying to eradicate and exterminate them from the face of the earth. This time we fight back!
The except below is from a conversation Flitz had with his wife in a virtual reality encounter, where numerous variables of the past are brought together to form a narrative that may present different aspects of the past that may provide clues to not only what happened, but what may happen in the future.
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Flitz's mind was working feverishly. There was something lingering at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't put a finger on it yet. They continued.
"You mentioned these unfamiliar people. Was there ever any verbal communication or physical contact made, even if it was walking by in a crowded hall and they brushed against you slightly?"
"Only once," she answered. "It wasn't the communication that made an impact on me. It was his eyes. Something about the waiter's eyes didn't seem right. They were off in some way. It was like I was looking at a human face with eyes that didn't belong to it. They were cold, emotionless, piercing; it seemed there was a hate in them, but a hate that wasn't personal."
"I don't understand that," said Flitz. "How would you know if it was or wasn't personal?"
"When he looked at others during the meal, the same look was given to others. It was like I was some type of focus of his, but it could have just as easily been someone else. It may sound strange, but it gave me the sense of being a project of his, or something like that. My conclusions were drawn from the fact that while he was always aware of his surroundings and who was in the room, his attention always came back to me and Kaara. It was definitely more than his job as a waiter that caused him to be vigilant concerning monitoring our presence."
"Why didn't you ever tell me about it," asked Flitz. "That doesn't seem to be in character for you."
"Your old friend told me not to. You know, the one from several years ago I was introduced to at our wedding reception. I can't remember his name."
Flitz had to think. What that meant was Syryntha never was told his name, or when consistently debriefed about her life, forgot to include it in the interviews. If she had, the name would have been revealed. She had a sharp memory and sense for detail. It would have been unlike her; even so soon after the wedding and all the changes their new life together brought.
"There were a lot of people you met from the agency at the reception. What did he look like," asked Flitz.
"He's hard to describe. If I recall, he was tall and slender, with a very average face that wouldn't be noticed in a crowd unless you focused on him very carefully."
Looking directly at her, Flitz noticed a barely discernible flicker in her image. Something was wrong. That never had happened before in his experience in the virtual reality room. Her record and data had somehow been tampered with; something that wasn't believed to be possible with the protections in place. He waited. Whether or not this was from a friendly or an enemy combatant was yet to be revealed. Every sense in him was now on high alert. Another flicker.