Sheriff Brody's presence was a storm cloud permanently hovering over Harmony Creek, and lately, the lightning had been getting closer. Ellis felt it in the subtle shift in the air, the way people moved with a little less freedom, a little more fear. He also felt it as a persistent, dull ache behind his eyes. It was the mental probe of Deputy Miller, assigned to shadow him. Miller wasn't subtle. A nondescript Ford sedan, perpetually parked a block down from Abernathy's church, or across the street from the room Ellis rented above the general store. Miller himself, feigning interest in a newspaper at the diner, always within sight.
It was a clumsy attempt at surveillance, but effective enough. Ellis knew he was being watched, that every move was being scrutinized. The pressure was relentless. He could sense Miller's thoughts – a monotonous stream of boredom punctuated by flashes of suspicion, casual prejudice, and a yearning for a cold beer. It was a low-level hum of negativity that grated on Ellis's already frayed nerves.
He tried to shield his mind, erecting mental barriers, but Miller was persistent, like a mosquito buzzing around a light. The constant probing was exhausting, making it difficult to focus, to sleep, to think. He considered confronting Miller directly, telling him to back off, but he knew that would only escalate the situation, give Brody the excuse he needed.
One sweltering afternoon, Ellis was helping Mr. Abernathy unload supplies for the church's soup kitchen. The heat shimmered off the asphalt, making the air thick and heavy. Miller was there, of course, leaning against his car, pretending to adjust the rearview mirror, his eyes never leaving Ellis.
Brody pulled up in his own vehicle, the Sheriff's car a stark symbol of authority. He sauntered over, his boots kicking up dust. "Langston," he drawled, his voice a low rumble. "Just making sure you're keeping busy. Wouldn't want you stirring up trouble."
Ellis met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I'm simply lending a hand, Sheriff. Helping those in need."
Brody chuckled, a harsh, unpleasant sound. "That so? Seems to me you're always around when there's trouble brewing. Like that little protest the other day."
"I was merely an observer," Ellis replied, carefully controlling his tone. "I believe in peaceful assembly."
"Peaceful, huh? That's not what I heard. Heard you were right in the thick of it, stirring things up." Brody stepped closer, invading Ellis's personal space. "You know, we don't take kindly to outsiders coming here and causing problems."
Ellis stood his ground. "I'm not causing any problems, Sheriff. I'm just trying to make a living, like anyone else."
"Is that what you're doing, Ellis?" Sarah's voice cut through the tension. She had been watching from the doorway of the church, her eyes narrowed. "Or are you here to cause trouble?"
Brody turned his attention to Sarah, a smirk twisting his lips. "Now, Sarah, you know I'm just looking out for your best interests. Making sure these outsiders don't take advantage of you good folks."
"We don't need your protection, Sheriff," Sarah said, her voice firm. "We can take care of ourselves."
Brody's smirk faded. "Don't be so sure about that, Sarah. There are forces at work you don't understand." He glanced back at Ellis, his eyes filled with thinly veiled threat. "Just be careful who you trust."
Brody finally left, kicking up a cloud of dust as he drove away. Ellis watched him go, his jaw tight.
Sarah approached Ellis, her expression unreadable. "What was that all about?" she asked, her voice low.
"Just the Sheriff making his presence known," Ellis replied, trying to downplay the encounter.
"He's been watching you," Sarah said, her eyes searching his face. "Ever since the protest. He thinks you're involved somehow."
Ellis sighed. "I'm not involved in anything, Sarah. I'm just trying to stay out of trouble."
Sarah studied him for a long moment, her gaze intense. "Maybe," she said finally. "But I don't think you're telling me everything." She paused, then added, "But I know one thing for sure, whatever you are, you're not as big a threat as that man."
She turned and walked back into the church, leaving Ellis standing alone in the sweltering heat, the weight of Brody's suspicion heavy on his shoulders. He was trapped, caught between his desire to help and his fear of exposure, of the consequences of using his powers.
Later that evening, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the town, Sarah sought Ellis out. She found him sitting on the steps of the general store, staring into the distance.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked, her voice softer now.
Ellis nodded, gesturing for her to sit beside him.
"I saw Brody talking to you today," she began, "He's been after you ever since the protest. I don't know what you did, but he's got it out for you."
Ellis hesitated, searching for the right words. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth, not all of it, but he couldn't keep her completely in the dark either. "I've… seen injustice before, Sarah," he said carefully. "In other places, other times. I know what it looks like. And I know what it can do."
Sarah was silent for a moment, absorbing his words. "Other places?" she asked, her brow furrowed.
Ellis avoided her gaze. "It doesn't matter. What matters is what's happening here, now." He looked at her, his eyes pleading. "I want to help, Sarah. I want to fight against this… this oppression."
Sarah studied him, her expression thoughtful. "Why?" she asked. "Why would you risk everything for us? You barely know us."
Ellis struggled to explain. He thought of the faces on Xylon 1, the desperate hope in their eyes, the sacrifices they had made. He thought of Kael'tar, the stoic leader who had taught him the true meaning of courage. He thought of Eddington, of the friend he had lost, the price he had paid.
"Because it's the right thing to do," he said simply. "Because everyone deserves to be free. Because silence in the face of injustice is complicity." He spoke about fighting against oppressive regimes on other planets, framing it as a metaphor for the struggle against racism and injustice in the South. He described the tactics used by the oppressors, the importance of resistance, and the sacrifices that were necessary to achieve freedom.
He avoided revealing the specific details of his past, but he shared enough to convince Sarah that he was on their side. He emphasized the importance of unity and non-violent resistance, drawing parallels between the Xylon prisoners and the black community.
Sarah listened intently, her eyes never leaving his face. When he finished, she was silent for a long moment, her thoughts churning. "I don't know what to make of you, Ellis," she said finally. "But I believe you. I believe you want to help." She paused, then added, "We need allies, Ellis. We're up against a powerful enemy. If you're willing to stand with us, I'm willing to trust you."
A wave of relief washed over Ellis. He wasn't alone anymore. He had found someone who understood, someone who believed in him, despite his secrets. "Thank you, Sarah," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I won't let you down."
He was still wrestling with the immense moral dilemma that had been plaguing him since he arrived. Should he intervene further and risk altering history or causing harm? Or should he stand by and watch injustice prevail, mirroring his feelings of helplessness post-Eddington?
He remembered the oath he took to protect the timeline, the warnings about the dangers of altering the past. But he also remembered the faces of the Xylon prisoners, the suffering he witnessed, and the lives he failed to save. He could not stand by and watch injustice prevail, but he feared that his actions would have unintended consequences.
He wrestled with the question of whether the ends justify the means, whether it is better to risk altering history or to allow injustice to continue.
The next day, Ellis decided to test the waters, to see how far he could push his abilities without attracting too much attention. He knew he couldn't directly confront Brody, not yet, but he could try to gather information, to anticipate the Sheriff's next move.
During a town meeting, held in the sweltering community hall, Ellis found himself standing near Brody. The Sheriff was holding court, surrounded by his cronies, his voice booming with authority. Ellis closed his eyes, focused his mind, and reached out, attempting to penetrate Brody's thoughts.
It was like hitting a brick wall. Brody's mind was a fortress, a chaotic jumble of prejudice, hatred, and determination. Ellis struggled to sift through the noise, to find something concrete, something useful. He saw flashes of violence, arrests, the suppression of the black community. He saw images of men cowering in fear, dogs barking, and fire hoses blasting.
The intensity of Brody's thoughts was overwhelming, like being plunged into a pool of ice water. Ellis felt himself reeling, his head pounding. The effort was draining, exhausting. He stumbled backward, gasping for breath.
He opened his eyes, his vision blurred. Brody was staring at him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You alright, Langston?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery. "You look a little pale."
Ellis forced a smile. "Just the heat, Sheriff," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's a bit stifling in here."
Brody continued to stare at him, his gaze unwavering. Ellis knew he had pushed too far, that he had revealed too much. He had to be more careful, more subtle.
The effort triggered another headache, a searing pain that reinforced the danger of using his powers. He retreated, moving away from Brody, seeking refuge in the crowd. He needed to find a way to help, to fight against the injustice, but he couldn't afford to expose himself, to risk everything. He needed to find a balance, a way to use his abilities without drawing too much attention, without altering the timeline, without sacrificing his own sanity. The balance was delicate, and Ellis was beginning to feel the weight of it.