The Devil's Copper

The Devil’s Copper
Copyright © 2020 by Jamie Crothall
Published 2021 by Feybreak Books
Publisher’s Disclaimer
The following thriller is a work of fiction. All characters are purely fictional. This book contains violence and mature subject matter; reader discretion is advised. Please don’t pirate, or in any other way illegally reproduce this book. Because screwing authors out of their royalties is bad. If you like this book, please remember to leave a review.
This book won 2nd Place in the 2020 Write-Fighters 3-Day Novella Contest. As such, the author of this book is a total badass, and holds the Write-Fighters seal of approval.


Table of Contents
Dedications
Introduction
Pologue
The Devil's Copper
Epilogue
Addendum: Walter
About the Author


Dedications
To my friends. Those who eventually left Sudbury, as well as those who stayed.  Quite a divisive subject, isn’t it?


INTRODUCTION
Fun fact: The word ‘nickel’ comes from the term ‘kupfernickel’, which is German for ‘Devil’s Copper’.  The name was ‘coined’ because the mineral identified by miners in the 18th century looked like copper, but took considerably more effort to extract, and wasn’t as malleable or useful.  The name itself derived from ‘kupfer’ meaning copper, and ‘Nickel’ which was an old German name for a troublesome spirit (similar to ‘Old Nick’).  It was not until a Swedish baron derived a process for extraction that the nature of nickel was discovered, and he retained its supernatural namesake.
Meanwhile in Canada, the first mining endeavour, ‘The Canadian Copper Company’, was founded in the 1880’s and was partnered with the New Jersey-based ‘Orford Refining Company’.  They set up a plant (and subsequent community) known as ‘Orford Village’ to treat and upgrade matte prior to shipping it to New Jersey.  This community later became known as Copper Cliff, which is now a neighbourhood within the City of Sudbury.  After finding that the ore was rich in nickel the Canadian Copper Company and Orford Refining Company merged to form the International Nickel Company (INCO) in 1902, which was based in New York.  In 1916 ‘INCO Canada’ was incorporated in Copper Cliff, by which point it was providing 80% of the world’s nickel.
While a US five cent piece was 75% copper, by 1922 all Canadian units were pure nickel.  This declined over time and by 1999 they were 94.5% steel, 3.5% copper, and only 2% nickel plating.  Overall demand seemed to drop over the decades, however recent technology has revitalized the demand.  Nickel is used to produce stainless steel, electroplating and nickel-cadmium batteries.  The rise of the electric car is also creating a renewed demand.
How is this relevant to the story, you ask? Well, it’s set in Sudbury, Ontario. And it never hurts to know these things.


PROLOGUE
You don’t meet time travelers every day.  Least of all in the Gatchell area.
It was a typical spring day in Sudbury; the sweet relief of fresh air through long-closed windows was offset by the smell of thawing dog poop, and the cliché of ‘spring showers’ was grossly overridden by the onslaught of flooded basements from the excessive amount of melting snow.  I was on some random errand for Mr. Linden, my boss, the purpose of which was quickly forgotten when I saw a man standing by my car.
I slowed and assessed the man. Did he just happen to choose that place to stand? Or was it on purpose?  He kept scanning the parking lot.  It made me uneasy.  I clutched my purse close and considered walking away.  But it was broad daylight.  The parking lot was relatively busy.  I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, and continued on my path.  Making a laundry list of mental notes, in case I had to describe him to a police sketch artist later.  But with great calm and composure.
The young man - who had short brown hair, equally brown eyes, a boyish red-ish hue to his skin which his stubble tried to hide, slightly arched shoulders, no discernable facial features, and a rather colourful jacket – continued his scan of the perimeter and stopped short when he saw me approach from about twenty feet away.  My pace slowed as his face dropped.  He looked like he had seen a ghost, however that aghast expression was slowly overtaken by an astonished smile.
“Oh…my…god…”
“I’m sorry, that’s my car,” I said quietly, and a little more quietly than intended.  He was standing in front of the driver’s side door.  But when he realized his infraction, he jumped away, as though repelled by some force field.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted.  Then, while not directed towards me, he continued, “…I can’t believe it…”
“Can’t believe what?” I asked.
“Do you know who you are?”
“Sure. For the most part…”
“You’re…”
“I’m…?”
“You’re…”
“…trying to go back to work.”
“You’re Billie.  Elizabeth ‘Billie’ Turner.”
Okay. That took away any bit of control I felt I had over the situation.  My heart jumped.  I had no idea who this guy was, but he knew both the name I was born with and the name I wish other people would have the decency to call me by.
“Says who?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.  I started fishing for my keys in my purse.
Despite my wariness he appeared far more awkward than I could have dreamed of.  His hands went in and out of his pockets, his mouth moved to form several words that his breath could not produce, and his feet shuffled about whenever he wasn’t inserting them into his mouth.
“I’ve always had such a crush on you…”
“What?”
“Ever since I was a kid.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m sorry, this isn’t going how I planned.”
“So you’re saying there was a plan?”
“You’re my favourite actress,” he blurted.  “You always have been!  Ever since I saw ‘The Studious Mouse’