The Traveler

David Matthews reached blindly for his cell phone, not wanting to pry open his heavy eyelids. After ten seconds without success, he begrudgingly convinced himself to open his eyes and found that his phone had fallen to the ground.

He snatched it up from the ground as fast as he could, his head spinning as he sat up to answer, "Hello?" He didn't receive a response from the other end. Turning his phone so he could see it, he figured out that he hadn't made it in time.

"Perfect." He said with a sigh. His phone read: 0417, and his captain had just called.

With a yawn, he stretched and went to the bathroom before calling back. He splashed water on his face and let the cool water run down his face in streams as he allowed his body the time it needed to start functioning. Before he could even reach down and grab his phone, it started ringing again.

With a shake of his head, he answered, "Detective Matthews."

"Good morning. We got another one."

"Another one? So you weren't calling for a morning chat?" Matthews asked with slight disdain in his voice. Twenty years on the job and he still never could get used to these wake-up calls. At this point, he felt like the job had won. Eighteen years of marriage down the drain and a teenage daughter who could barely stand to be in the same room as him. He used to feel like it made a difference. Now he just felt like it was the same shit, different day.

"Funny Mathews," Captain Higgins declared unamused. "You'll be briefed and directed where to go once you get to the station. Bring coffee."

"Yes," the phone cut off, "sir." Shaking his head and sighing, David quickly got his things together for the day.

He sipped his coffee as his car raced along the underground highways at speeds of up to 100mph. The technology of the world had come so far and yet they still couldn't solve some of the most basic human problems. Homelessness ran rampant, more people than ever went hungry daily, and the murder rate was at an all-time high.

His mind turned away from the problems of society as the underground road brought him up to the surface level. He set his coffee down and prepared to drive the rest of the way to the station. If you could even call it that. It was absolutely massive, taking up an entire city block in San Francisco, California.

The building was as modern as it comes. Tall, square, metallic, and shined as bright as the sun it reflected. Each window was not only bullet-proof but recorded everything on a 24/7 basis. A fly couldn't get by a window without it being scanned and cleared by the security team. Unlike other police stations, this one, by all appearances, was not labeled as one. In fact, there wasn't a sign in sight to indicate what this building held at all. It didn't even have an entrance door on any of the four sides.

David pulled up alongside the curb in one of the designated areas. His car and retina was scanned and the platform took him down to the parking structure below. His car was taken automatically to its designated position. He got out and made his way to the security check.

"Morning Tim," David said as he approached the security guard.

"David! How you been man? Haven't seen you in a while, was thinking you didn't make it out of that last firefight."

David chuckled, "Yeah, well," he shrugged not really knowing how to respond, "life seems to have other plans for me at this point." David pulled a coffee out of the holder and handed it to his old acquaintance. He had known this man his entire career and didn't know much more about him than the fact that he liked his coffee as black as the Devil's soul.

"Here's your morning mud," David said with a playful smirk.

Tim chuckled. "Just how God intended it! Appreciate you, boss man. Take care of yourself now, and I'll be seeing you soon." Tim said in his usual upbeat tune, with his award-winning smile.

"Have a good one Tim," David said as he picked up his badge and firearm.

David headed into the station to the briefing room where his captain and partner were waiting for him.

"Nice of you to join us, princess, " his partner Winston said with a grin. "Thought you might've decided to just sleep in."

David and Winston had been partners for the better part of the last decade. They spent more time with each other than they had their wives, hence they were both miserably divorced. Every time they got an early wake-up call, Wintson beat him to the station despite living outside of the city. At this point, it was just tradition to give David grief for being the last to show up.

"Yeah, well they took longer than I expected to warm up your milk today," David said as he slid his partner's cup across the table to him.

"If you ladies are done flirting, we do actually have some work to do," Captain Higgins stated irritated per usual, as he took his coffee, and turned his attention to the center of the table.

With the wave of his hand, the hologram table pulled up an image of a man with blue jeans and a striped polo laying on his back. Two wounds that looked like bullet holes. One in the chest and one in the head. Professional hit. Not only that but the third time this guy had been killed in the last two weeks.

"I'm sure you boys remember Mr. Banks. This is in a lab in Los Angeles, California, Universe code 3741KTC. He was found this morning by his secretary as she was coming in for her day's work. The office was tossed and they have no traces of forcible entry. At this point, they can't seem to find anything missing, but I'm betting that they will soon discover that his personal briefcase is gone. In this universe, Mr. Banks was killed at the age of 37. He works at the robotics lab performing tests on nanotech, just like in the other universes he was killed in."

"Well if the killer is traveling to different dimensions and time periods, he must be a traveler. Obviously, this guy didn't get killed in three universes by coincidence," Winston said.

"Maybe, but we don't know for sure yet. You know how it goes. Sometimes the universes line up more than we think they do. Either way, you two are going to 3741K to check it out. Your contact will be Detective Jennifer Smith. She will meet you when you get there and provide you with whatever you need. Here's your paperwork for when you get there," the captain said as he tossed a paperclipped stack with identification and other documentation they would need, "You'll be staying at a motel around the corner from the lab. It will be nighttime when you get there so I suggest you rest up."

"Perfect, beers on you David," Winston said with a smile.

"I was thinking beers on the cap. What do you think cap?" David asked.

"I think that if you like your job you'll get some rest and stay out of trouble." The captain said dryly.

"Captain, do you ever smile?" Winston asked.

The captain gave him a stone-cold look with his eyebrows raised.

Winston held his stare briefly before saying, "Yeah, well... we should go. Good seeing you cap." Winston stood and tucked his chair in before making his way out to the hall.

"Captain, did you call Fin on this one?" David asked.

With a sigh, the captain responded, "I did, but haven't gotten a response yet. He's been MIA for the last week."

"MIA? Did he suddenly get a life or what?" Winston asked.

"Detective work is his life. That doesn't sound like him." David said

"Well, he doesn't have to answer to us. He is after all a private detective," Captain Higgins responded with a shrug.

"Well, keep us posted. I think we could use his help on this one," David said.

David and Winston left the office and made their way to the transporter. Captain Higgins watched through the glass doors as they made their way down the spacious corridors. When they turned the corner he let out a sigh as his mind wandered to Fin. He pulled out a file and flipped it open. On the front cover was a picture of an older man with snow-white hair. He wore gold rim glasses and a plain dark blue dress shirt. His white goatee trimmed to perfection as always. The name at the top read Finneas O'Bryan.