Who: Miles and Fortune What: Miles pays a visit to Kingate Trust When: 2:27 p.m. Where: Kingate Trust, Chicago Rating: TBD Status: Complete
For three and a half hours, Miles sat on the outside patio of a Starbucks, located across from the Kingate Trust in Chicago. In that period of time he'd already gone through two lattes and a near boiling cup of Earl Grey (which he had to admit was not nearly as good as Twinings of London.) Then again, few things ever were. After finishing the second latte, he was feeling considerably buzzed and had to control himself for fear that he might accidentally travel to another moment in time. Now he was on the tea and he could feel himself coming down from his caffeinated high, losing his adrenaline, getting a little sleepy. But still he sat at the outdoor cafe, as though expecting something to happen.
Of course, there was never any guarantee that anything would happen. Even though he had seen the future, (many versions of it,) he still didn't know what would happen. Not exactly. Naturally there were some events in history that simply didn't change. Or, if they did, it was on such a minuscule scale that it was hardly ever noticeable. To change a truly historic event required a good deal of effort and involvement from numerous individuals. And that was more than difficult to coordinate or arrange. Sometimes it was nearly impossible. He'd once been asked by a young student (many years in the future from this date,) why he did not go back in time and do something really good. Something that would benefit all of humanity. Why did he not, for example, kill Hitler as a child and prevent the genocide that would follow. His reply was simple: Because someone else would have replaced him. Of course, the events would have changed. Perhaps the death toll would have been lower. Perhaps higher. Maybe even the outcome would be different. But an international crisis would have still occurred. Lives would still have been lost. And Miles didn't believe in exchanging one bad for another. That was like accepting the lesser of two evils. But you never knew which outcome would be the less evil. (So sometimes the evil that you knew, was the safer choice.)
Then what good are you? His subconscious would always ask himself.
Miles still hadn't come up with a good answer to that question. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't that he couldn't do anything. It wasn't that he couldn't change things, because he could. But the universe seemed to adjust itself. The temporal continuum needed balance. Not everything could end in goodness. Tears and loss were an intricate aspect of life. He couldn't give everyone a happy ending. Not even himself.
He glanced down to his pocket watch. 2:26 p.m. It was time. He stood up from the bistro-styled chair and made his way across the street to the Kingate building. He weaved through the crowds of people in the crosswalk. No one mumbled an apology. They rarely did in big cities. But that was alright. No one apologized in the future either.
Once inside the building, Miles paused for a moment, glancing about the lobby. What's the plan? He asked himself. There is no plan, his thoughts replied. Then he crossed the stretch of tile towards the main receptionist desk.
He leaned over the counter of the desk, causing him to receive quite the unpleasant look of disdain from a receptionist with a low-cut blouse.
"Can I help you?" She asked, pausing to scrutinize a crack in one of her nails.
"I was wondering if I might meet with Mr. Kindle."
The girl looked at him with a blank expression for a good twenty seconds, as though trying to determine if Miles was joking, then she broke out into an annoying laugh.
"Are you serious?"
"If I said yes, would you pity a fool for trying?"
"Are you an auditor?"
"...Is this a trick question?"
"I'm calling security," she said, picking up the phone.
"Not necessary!" Miles blurted out. Then he walked away from the desk. The receptionist kept an eye on him for a moment, but as soon as she averted her attention back down to her poorly-performed manicure, Miles slipped around a corner to the elevators.