Ace was dressed in a short-sleeved gray shirt sprinkled in bleach stains and a pair of worn jeans held up with a belt. A thick-knitted scarf was wrapped around his neck beneath his short ponytail, and an old pair of work boots a few sizes too big donned his feet. He had also devised a headband from a knitted cap that had been too covered in holes to function as a hat. While Ace remained ever grateful for these simple gifts, it was yet another reminder at how inadequate Elliot felt to take someone in.
Ace had woken up hours before he had, and the stranger had somehow fixed the water heater, taken a shower, and cooked a batch of egg-toast before the smell of breakfast roused him from sleep. Ace apologized that the breakfast wasn’t much, but Elliot felt almost embarrassed that he didn’t keep much food on hand for anyone other than himself. Ace, however, remained firm that he wanted to help as much as he could until he was back on his feet.
The words struck Elliot as Ace began to chatter about a friend or family member. While it could be as simple as getting him on his feet and allowing him to go on his way, he knew the young man had a much greater hurdle to cross than just finding his niche in the world: if what he said were true, he had to find how to get back to his own niche.
Following up on Ace’s insistence on helping out, Elliot recognized that not everyone knew how to fix a water heater—especially someone from a country still lacking in major technology feats. When questioned, Ace joked that he and his brother had just installed a water heater days before his mysterious disappearance. This gave the young man hope that his home couldn’t be so far away if that type of technology was similar.
This theory was somewhat debunked when Elliot offered Ace up for temporary employment to Stephan, a friend and skilled mechanic. Ace walked into the old garage and was presented with technology that no longer matched up with his hometown: a gas-powered automobile.
The bartender stood by the wide garage door of the shop, watching as Stephan showed Ace around the contents of an automobile’s hood. Ace nodded and took it all in, but Elliot could tell by Ace’s somewhat befuddled expression that he had never seen the likes of a car before.
As Ace leaned into the hood and began uncapping one of the fluid reservoirs, Stephan walked over to Elliot with a grin.
“So?” Elliot asked, his hands in his pockets as a cold wind blew into the garage.
“I think he’ll do just fine,” Stephan commented as he wiped his sun-tanned forehead with the back of his hand. “I don’t think he’s worked on a car before, but right now I just need an extra couple of hands to do what I tell ‘em.” The handyman laughed. “It’s awf’lly kind of you to take him under your wing.”
He shrugged. “I suppose I’ve been given more than my share of help over the years, so I ought to deal some of it back out.”
“It was ol’ Gershwin who got you back on your feet, wa’n’t it?”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Elliot’s lips. “Yeah,” he said, almost dazedly.
Stephan gave the man a hearty pat on the back. “He was a good man, I know that. And it’s great to see you followin’ in his footsteps.”
Elliot’s smile turned sarcastic as the mechanic started back to the car. “I’m still not convinced I’m doing a very good job.”
“I’ve filled it up, sir,” Ace popped upright as Stephan walked up to him.
“Right to the line?”
“Exactly to the line!”
“Good man! Now let’s move on to the battery.”
“The battery.” Ace repeated, donning an almost childlike grin.
Elliot found Ace’s excitement for learning about the basics of a car battery almost comical. He shook his head and decided to visit the market to stock up his pantry while Ace was occupied.
--
As soon as Elliot opened the bathroom door, he was struck down by a powerfully savory scent.
“What the heck are you cooking?” He asked, trying to figure out if the room was smoky or if it was just the steam from his shower.
“Just some fish,” Ace was crouched in front of the oven as he peered inside. “I may have overdone it on the seasoning, but they’re not on fire yet.”
“Yet?” Elliot raised his eyebrows. “So, you’ve figured out how to work the oven?”
“It’s amazing,” Ace glanced at Elliot as he turned one of the knobs. One of the burners on the stove glowed red hot, then clicked off with another turn. “I can control heat!”
The man chuckled. “You guys have electric water heaters, but not electric stoves?”
“I mean, they exist, but I’m too poor to have anything but wood-burning. I doubt I would have ever seen the water heater if it weren’t for my brother.”
“Huh.” He hummed. “Well, careful you don’t put the heat too high in there. Of course, even burnt fish is better that I usually eat.”
“They’re not burnt yet!”
“You keep saying ‘yet’.” He grinned. “Either way, I’m going to get spoiled while you’re here.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He smiled as he straightened up. He stepped over as Elliot opened the door to the fridge.
His ponytail half-obscured a faint marking on the back of his neck.
Elliot released the fridge door and backed away with wide eyes.
The door bumped against Ace, and he turned back to see what had happened.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Elliot’s surprise had turned to anger.
Ace’s brows knitted with concern. “What?”
“This whole time—you never said you were a freaking Echo!”
“A—a what??” Ace shrunk at Elliot’s tone as the fridge door slammed behind him.
Elliot let out a short laugh and shook his head. “You know, you play a really good game!” He pointed at Ace with a sneer. “You went through great lengths to make me believe your little sob story.”
“But it wasn’t—what are you talking about?”
“And you thought your hair was going to cover up your mark!”
“What mark?” Ace’s hand shot to his neck.
“Still playing dumb! You are incredible, sir.” Elliot crossed his arms.
Ace attempted to reach forward. “Elliot—”
“Stay back!” He barked as Ace backed into the counter. “You get me all wrapped around your finger just for you to turn on me when I least expect it!”
“What have I done to make you think that?” Ace spat in reply, “With everything you’ve done for me, what purpose would I have to do anything against you??”
“Why would you care if you’re an Echo?!”
“What’s an Echo??”
The man scowled and reached toward Ace’s neck. Before Ace could do little more than raise his hands, Elliot tapped his fingers at the base of his skull.
A wave of blue light pulsed from Ace’s fingertips and up his arms like veins.
Ace let out a short cry and practically collapsed as Elliot stepped back into place. His eyes were wide and fearful beneath arched brows. “What was that?” He hissed, horrified as his hands trembled before his eyes.
At last, Elliot’s heated expression began to lighten. “You... you really have no idea?”
Ace remained silent and unmoving with his back against the oven, his knees against his chest, and his fingers curled in the air.
Elliot took a deep breath. “You escaped from the research facility?”
“Yes.” Ace muttered.
“And you’ve never had power before?”
“No.”
“And you have no clue what an Echo is?”
“No.”
Elliot sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get up; I think the fish is burning.”
Ace scrambled away as Elliot stepped in to remove the pan of crisp fish filets from the oven. He set them down on the counter with the oven mitts and then turned to Ace.
“I am taking a huge risk if I trust you on all this.” Elliot muttered sternly. “But if you really are telling the truth, it sounds like a lot more happened at the research facility than you just waking up there.”
“What did they do to me?” Ace cowered near the cupboard, his arms balled against the bleach-stained shirt. “What was the light on my arms? What mark is on my neck?”
Elliot waved his hands to quell Ace’s spattering of questions. “I don’t know what they did, but I can at least explain what Echoes are.”
“And why you’re scared of me all of a sudden?”
The man pressed his lips into a frown. The stranger standing before him looked even more terrified and lost than he been the night before. He again sighed and grabbed two plates from the cabinet over the oven. “We might as well talk on a full stomach.”
Ace swallowed, watching Elliot grab a spatula to scrape the fish free from the pan. “Sorry they burned,” he offered gently.
“They’re just extra-crispy.”
The tan-haired man straightened up, and could only blink as Elliot handed him a fork and a plate with two small filets. Then, silently, Elliot grabbed his own plate and retreated to the couch.
Ace cautiously joined him on the opposite side, setting his plate in his lap.
“There are two planets here in our little corner of the world,” Elliot began without so much as a glance in Ace’s direction. “We’re here on Barea, and the other planet is called Aravast. Do either of those names ring a bell?”
Ace shook his head.
Elliot nodded and turned back to eat a bite of fish. “You’ve seen the people here: pretty normal and unassuming. The people of Aravast, however, each had an immeasurable power. And whenever you have people that have something that other people don’t, it doesn’t end well.”
He took another bite as Ace finally attempted the same. “A hundred years or so ago, a massive explosion destroyed almost all life on Aravast. Some people say Barea did it in an act of defense. Some people say Aravast did it themselves to keep us from gathering their resources. I don’t trust either story, but, whatever the case may be, Barea thought that entire race of people had been wiped away.”
“But?” Ace tilted his head.
“But, the next thing we know, people in New Arden started showing up with these strange, diamond-shaped birthmarks on the backs of their necks. No one knew what they were, until a generation or two later when their descendants had begun to develop Aravasti power.” Elliot glanced out at the sunset peeking through the half-drawn curtains. “Before we knew it, these ‘Echoes’ from Aravast had infiltrated every community in the area.”
“And that’s... me?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“But how?” Ace frowned, “I’m not from Barea or Aravast, and I wasn’t born with this mark on my neck.”
“That’s where you coming from the research facility might come into play.”
Ace nearly dropped his plate out of his lap. “Wait—do you think they gave me Aravast powers?”
“While that very statement makes absolutely no sense,” Elliot scowled lightly, “that’s what it’s looking like.”
“Okay,” Ace’s foot began to bounce as his mind reeled in thought. “Assuming that’s the case, that means somehow I was taken out of my homeland, brought here to the research facility, and given the mark on my neck and the power that comes with it.” He glanced up at Elliot. “What kind of power is it?”
“I think they’re all different elemental powers, but I’ve never really paid much attention.” He paused. “When you broke out, were there others?”
“There was a whole room full of people,” Ace bit his lip. “Maybe a hundred?”
“A hundred,” Elliot repeated, although he still found it difficult to believe the words. “What in the heck are they doing?”
“So, was it the power that made people scared of the Echoes?”
“The power was part of it, but people freaked out because they thought we were being undermined by vengeful Aravasti people, and that’s what NAGA started to spout out. Echoes couldn’t be trusted; Echoes were unpredictable and powerful; Echoes were out to get you. So, they were ordered to be executed.”
Ace almost choked on the last bit of fish as he gasped and recoiled against the arm of the sofa.
Elliot glanced at Ace with his lips skewed. “That’s why I freaked out when I noticed you had the mark of an Echo. And that’s why I’m having a hard time believing that the same entity that ordered all Echoes to be executed would willingly embed their power into random other people.”
The young man had balled himself up again. “What am I supposed to do?” He whispered.
“That’s an excellent question.” Elliot’s eyes narrowed as he huffed and stood up. “Because if anyone finds out about you, I’ll be toast as much as you’ll be toast.”
“Do I need to leave?” He swallowed as he scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Elliot again found himself frozen in place. It would be easy to send Ace away. He would be relieved from the struggles of finding Ace’s home world, and he would be far removed from Ace’s newfound genetics.
But his mind again drifted to the night where he fell, starving, at the gate of an older gentlemen who had been tending his garden in the cool air of dusk. The gentleman rose and took him in, offering him food and drink and a place to stay without a single hesitation. There had been no talk of terms or conditions, or even an expiration of his kindness. After months of uncertainly, pain, and loss, it was the first place he finally felt safe.
“No. You need to stay here.”
Ace’s scrunched face unclenched.
“I don’t want to risk someone else finding you.” Elliot’s expression wavered between annoyance and empathy. “This won’t be easy trying to figure out how you got here and what happened to you, so you had better be telling the truth—I’m not risking my neck for nothing, okay?”
Ace bobbed his head. “Of course—I promise this is the truth!” His brows peaked anxiously. “Thank you,” he added softly.
Elliot nodded without another word and returned his plate to the kitchen. “I need to go start my shift. Stay in here, but if you have to go anywhere, you better be sure to cover your neck.”
“Okay.”
“And if anyone finds out what you are, I had no idea.”
Ace bowed solemnly. “Got it.”
The Barean offered a brief sigh as he looked back at Ace, gripping his keys in his hand. “Thanks for cooking dinner.” He admitted.
The stranger’s lips tugged into a half-smile as Elliot shut the door behind him.