Albert stared at the ceiling. Somehow his brain wasn’t letting him breathe automatically. He had to force himself to do it. He struggled through the pain of what he was certain was broken ribs.

The door of the prison closed with a thunk. The pain was too much. He wasn’t going to remain conscious for much longer. He almost closed his eyes when Mr. Germain’s face filled his view. He was looking at the state of him.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay Albert?” Mr. Germain said, looking Albert in the eye.

“How?” Albert managed to ask.

Again, Mr. Germain took in Albert’s state. He shook his head. “I’ve got to move you.”

“Make sure I stay awake,” Albert said.

“Alright. Ready?” Mr. Germain asked.

Albert nodded. At least his neck and face were alright. In a swift motion, Mr. Germain grabbed Albert’s shoulder and hoisted him onto his back. The darkness threatened to take hold, and Albert let out a scream to keep it at bay.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Germain said as he finished situating Albert on his back. “I’m so sorry, Albert.”

Albert had a feeling Mr. Germain wasn’t just talking about the pain caused by moving him. Mr. Germain struggled to the door, keeping Albert on his back, moving him as little as possible. Albert’s vision swam at a dangerous rate.

“Keep me awake,” Albert said.

“Right, right. Okay,” Mr. Germain said as they entered the brightly lit hall. “So, um, Ron said you liked physics?”

“Yeah,” Albert said.

“I don’t know what that is,” Mr. Germain said, now getting his stride and quickly moving down the hall toward the elevator. “Can you tell me about it?”

In that moment, Albert would have told Mr. Germain anything. Mr. Germain swiped his key into the elevator as Albert talked about whatever his mind came up with about physics. None of it would make sense to Mr. Germain. Not just because Mr. Germain didn’t know about physics, but Albert doubted anything he said made sense. Mr. Germain was really good at pretending to be interested, though.

The elevator doors opened and Mr. Germain struggled inside before hitting a button.

“Tell me more,” Mr. Germain said when Albert realized he had trailed off. Albert tried to open his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “Albert? Hey, come on. Tell me more. You were talking about motion? Something about an equation? How does motion have an equation?”

“It’s velocity,” Albert said, his words slurring.

“Right. Velocity.”

“Motion velocity. Same. Sorta. Motion is like velocity. Need velocity in motion.”

“Good, yes. It has an equation? How is that possible?”

His vision was fuzzy, like a bad reception on a TV. “Velocity is equivalent to a-” Albert let out a groan as pain shot through his leg. Mr. Germain moved his arm away from his leg. “Specification. Specification of an object’s speed. Direction of motion,” Albert said as the elevator doors opened.

Mr. Germain burst out of the elevator and into the lobby. “Medic! I need a medical team right now!”

“Change of its position…” Albert mumbled.

“Mr. Germain, you’re coming with us!” someone shouted.

“He needs a medic! Get a team here now!” Mr. Germain yelled.

“Function of time…” Albert said.

Someone was pulling Mr. Germain, and a ripple of fresh pain crashed through his body.

“Careful! Can’t you see he’s hurt!” Mr. Germain said.

“You are under arrest for treason! President Arnold’s orders!”

“Albert has no part in this! He needs a team of medical professionals right now!” Mr. Germain said.

Someone grabbed Albert and he let out a scream of pain. “Stop!” Mr. Germain yelled. Albert tumbled to the ground, feeling his consciousness giving up. “Medic!” Mr. Germain’s voice carried through the lobby. A lot of sounds hit his ears all at once. He heard the struggle and the sound of handcuffs being placed on Mr. Germain. A large group was shouting about Mr. Germain’s crimes against President Arnold, he heard someone start singing about how disturbed Albert looked.

“Stop! Please!” Was Mr. Germain crying? “Let those medical professionals through! Help Albert! President Arnold is responsible for all of this! He must be stopped!”

“Knock him out! He’s struggling too much!” an agent shouted.

Albert opened his eyes and turned to see Mr. Germain struggling under a large group of agents as one of them placed a cloth around his nose and mouth. The first tears fell from his eyes as he watched Mr. Germain being dragged away in a state of half-consciousness.

“He’s hurt!” a woman screamed. “Let me through!”

“No one is to touch him!” another agent said. “Mr. Holmes is coming to collect him soon.”

“This is my job!”

Do not stop me!” the woman half screamed, half sang.

“We have our orders too,

“We will not let him go free,” the agent sang.

The doors of the lobby were thrown open and he heard someone run in, out of breath. “Let them go!” Albert recognized that voice. It was Mr. Wayne. Albert turned to see Mr. Wayne, sweat running down his face like he had run a mile, and he looked angry. “Let go of the medical professionals right now. Let them tend to the kid.”

“Or what?” someone asked.

Mr. Wayne pulled out his gun, his face serious. Just like that, every noise in the room vanished. The only sound was the different melodies playing together before dying out. Instinctually, the agent let go of the woman who took the opportunity to run to Albert. A few other medical professionals trickled through. Albert focused on the light fixture in the ceiling before he felt an injection in his thigh and he gasped for air, the entire room coming into focus. Mr. Germain was gone with most of the agents trailing after him.

“Hey, there,” the woman said, easing Albert back to the floor. “My name is Florence. What’s yours?”

“Albert,” Albert managed to gasp.

“We’re here to help, Albert.”

The agent who held Florence back was glaring at Mr. Wayne. Mr. Wayne still stood at the doorway, his gun pointed right at the agent. Florence whispered orders as the medical professionals worked fast.

“We have our orders,” the agent said, looking annoyed. “Mr. Holmes will come and collect this kid. No one is to touch him.”

“Look Albert right in the eye and tell him you want the medics to stop helping him,” Mr. Wayne said.

The elevator door opened and Mr. Holmes barged into the lobby, taking in the situation. He glared at Mr. Wayne. “John, put your gun away. Albert is coming with me.”

“He is in no state to be moved,” Florence said.

“Just get him on a stretcher. My own team will look at him,” Mr. Holmes said.

Albert reached over and grabbed Florence’s arm, tears in his eyes. “Don’t let me go with him,” he managed to choke out. “Please. He’s going to kill me.” Florence’s eyes widened.

“Don’t listen to the boy. He’s clearly delusional from the pain,” Mr. Holmes said.

Mr. Wayne strode forward, standing between Albert and Mr. Holmes, pointing the gun right between Mr. Holmes’ eyes. “What team? Where are you taking him?”

“Every second we spend in the lobby is another second you’re denying him help,” Mr. Holmes said.

The medical team eased Albert onto the stretcher, and Albert closed his eyes, gasping in pain. He was losing a lot of blood. “Take him to the hospital floor,” Florence said.

“No, he’s coming with me,” Mr. Holmes said, an unusual flare of anger in his voice.

“I am the head medical professional for the S.E.A.,” Florence said as she grabbed Albert’s good arm to keep him close to her. “He goes to the hospital floor. Your team can meet me there.”

Mr. Holmes glared, then nodded to a group of half a dozen agents who all pulled out their guns, pointing them at Mr. Wayne, Florence, Albert, and the other medical professionals. Some of the medics slowly stepped away, hands in the air. Whatever injection Florence gave Albert, it was starting to wear off. Albert’s vision was swimming.

Mr. Holmes smirked. “One more chance, Florence. Give the boy to me.”

Mr. Wayne stood in front of Albert and Florence, pointing his gun right between Mr. Holmes’ eyes. “Out of the way, Mr. Holmes. This kid stays with Florence, or so help me I will drop you where you stand,” John said.

“Really John?” Mr. Holmes said. John ran his eyes over the group of people pointing guns at him before he pulled another gun out of the back of his pants, pointing it at the group. As confident as ever, he stared Mr. Holmes down. “Don’t pretend this is a challenge for me.”

Darkness was surrounding Albert’s vision. He was losing his battle. He was going to pass out, despite the adrenaline coursing through his body. Everything had to come to an end eventually. Mr. Wayne continued to stare Mr. Holmes down. Right before Albert lost all consciousness, Mr. Holmes’ smile faltered.

***

Marie was still making the formula, glancing out the window every so often. It had been almost a full day since she talked with Mr. Rogers. She was trying to focus on her work, but at this point she could do it in her sleep. Billy was chatting with Edgar, and he would not shut up. It was something she recognized as a defense mechanism. Everyone was nervous, but he showed it by talking non-stop. Marie wished he would talk to her, but she was willing to give him space.

The door opened and Charles and Alice returned with a hobo. Marie got up and walked over to the hobo, recognizing her almost immediately.

“Pusher?” Marie asked. “Hey! It’s been awhile.” Pusher was one of the hobos that helped her out when Marie was pretending to be a hobo. They didn’t know she was pretending, but they were kind to her all the same.

Pusher stared at Marie. “Peacemaker? Is this what happened? Do you remember who you are?”

Marie’s cheeks turned to fire, and she had to look away. Yes, she had talked to Mr. Rogers, but she still remembered what she had done to Billy. “Marie. My name is Marie. I’m not… Peacemaker.”

Pusher nodded, her eyes fell on Sophie. Sophie stood up, giving her a small wave. “Hi. I’m Sophie. I’m… Germain. One of the… my parents… I’m sorry.” Sophie winced. “I had a lot of issues I was going through as a hobo. I wasn’t the nicest.”

Pusher still looked surprised as she saw the two of them. “I guess I’ll know who I am shortly.”

Alice put an arm around Pusher and gave her a squeeze. “Marie, Sophie, this is Rosa Parks. She’s agreed to help the other hobos get their memories back should our plan go wrong.”

“Let’s not tempt Murphy’s Law any more than we already have,” Charles said.

Alice smiled as she picked up one of the vials. “Is this the fast acting one?”

Marie’s dad nodded. “Yes. Let us know if you need anything.”

Alice took Rosa by the arm and led her into the room with no windows. Charles waited by the door.

“Did you have time to stop by the memorial park?” Marie asked, tucking some hair behind her ears.

Charles nodded before giving Marie an apologetic look. “We couldn’t find anything. I’m sorry, but maybe your friend didn’t have time to send us something.”

Marie frowned, feeling uncomfortable. “No. He made a promise. I’m quite sure he’s the kind of guy that keeps his promises. He was going to send word by tonight with an update. Did you go too soon? What time is it?”

Charles moved his wrist to check his watch. “Almost midnight. We would have caught it. It was one of the last things we did before coming back here.”

Marie let out a breath. She couldn’t explain it, but a fear settled into her soul. Charles gave her a curious look. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Edgar?” Marie asked, turning to him. Edgar glanced up at her, and Billy stopped talking. “If Mr. Rogers promised an update by tonight, and it hasn’t happened, what… what do you think that means?”

Edgar winced. “Mr. Rogers promised an update?”

Marie nodded. “By tonight.”

The fear traveled from his eyes to the rest of his face as he stood. “Something happened. Something bad. They might be in trouble.”

The fear in Edgar’s voice was catching. Charles’ face fell before he examined what was in the room. “Okay. Okay, Vlad? Tom? Gather up what vials we have. Take them to the places we discussed. Make sure they’re secure.” Rosa gave a choked sob inside the room. Charles began walking backwards into it. “Billy? Edgar? Marie? We need to get as many vials hidden in the city as possible tonight. Don’t go in groups. Go separately, just in case you get caught. If we don’t hear back from Mr. Rogers by tomorrow afternoon, we’re leaving the city and Rosa will make sure the other hobos get their memories back.”

Charles disappeared into the room to help Alice.

“They had no reason to arrest me.” Rosa was trying to be quiet, but Marie could tell she was distraught. “I didn’t do that much.”

“Are you kidding?” Alice said, squeezing her hand. “You stood up to those bullies.”

Rosa was crying. “I’ve lost so many years of my life being a hobo.” She was starting to hyperventilate. “They lied to us! They lied to us all!” Rosa was starting to dissolve into sobbing and shaking. Marie backed away, feeling sick to her stomach. She had no idea what it would like to be a hobo for years and be lied to.

Sophie grabbed a bag of vials, giving Marie a sad smile. Sophie must know what Rosa was going through. “I’ll see you later.”

Marie nodded as everyone else sprang into action, grabbing as many vials as possible before leaving the apartment and disappearing into the night. Marie left the apartment into the cool summer night air.