Ryan Time

by Craig Robertson

  Someone who did not heed the warning quickly enough was slammed against the wall as soldiers passed.

  “I'm staying here.”

  “No can do, sir. That's against protocol and our orders.” They lifted him from his chair and began carrying him out.

  He quickly stood and tried to shake them off. “Very well, but I'll bloody well walk out of here.”

  They freed him and one fell in behind, while the other took point, and stepped quickly toward the door.

  They almost made it. As the first soldier stepped into the hallway a huge Edoozer hand grabbed him and crushed his head and neck.

  “Oh, God,” gasped Payette. He backed away slowly.

  Two things happened in a flash. The remaining soldier thumbed his safety off and lunged past the president. He began firing on automatic before he reached the door. The wall began shredding. He twisted into the passageway, never releasing the trigger. Once he saw the beast, he swept his barrel from side to side.

  Tank sprinted to Payette's side. He literally threw him over his shoulder and sprinted to the back of the room.

  Once Masterson saw what he was doing she waved her arms in the air. “Everyone get between the door and the president. Now, now, now.”

  The guard in the hall wailed as the Edoozer cut him in half with a pincer arm.

  Short bursts of rifle fire could be heard down the hall behind the enemy. I guessed three, maybe four shooters. The Edoozer sprang out of view in the direction of the bullets. Multiple screams were heard. The hall fell silent.

  Slowly, like in a 1950s B-science fiction movie, the Edoozer rounded the corner on its stick legs, and entered the room. Its head swung in a nauseating manner as it scanned the room. A laptop slammed against the side of it's head. I turned. Tank was snatching up another.

  “Ah, my Tannnk,” hissed the body maker. “I have come for my Tankkkk.” It stepped toward him. A second computer bounced harmlessly off it's forehead. It walked almost casually. Occasionally, it hit the floor, more often it crushed someone where the were they stood, frozen in fear.

  Tank was about ready to launch a chair when the body maker gently but swiftly wrapped him in a claw hand and lifted him to it's chest.

  “Where is my high vvvvvoiiz?” It scanned the remaining crowd slowly. “Ah, there is my high voooize.” It stepped up and the table and came right at me.

  I tried to force past those around me to get to the door, but only made a couple steps before it swooped me up. It's gasp was firm. I could barely breath, if I'd needed to breathe. It's claws were coarsely barbed and punctured my skin all over, but the damn thing clearly wasn't intent on killing either of us, presently. It turned. Sapale was easy for it to identify. No one else had the full burqa. It scooped her up quickly.

  “Now, wherezzz my highest voice?” Sachiko. Somehow it knew she was part of the team that damaged the fleet. Those soulless eyes swept back and forth, searching. Someone knocked Sachiko down, and she yelped. That was enough for the body master to ID her. It snatched her from the floor.

  Several MPs stumbled through the door.

  “Don't shoot,” yelled a commanding voice, “it has prisoners.”

  Tank screamed, “Fire, fire. That's a direct order. Shoot to kill.”

  The soldiers didn't respond. Tank's face was partly covered, and he couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell very loudly, either. Plus, the guards were so afraid, I doubt they listened to what they were hearing.

  It held us as steady as full glasses of water as it sprinted down the hall. I had to make a decision. I might be able to fight it, but I'd really blow my cover. Then again, my cover'd do me little good if I was killed. I shot my fibers around it's head, and pulled for all I was worth. Its head twisted, but not nearly enough to hurt the damn thing. I tried the sleep command, which works on some species. Nothing. As a last gasp effort, I tried to entangle its thin legs, so it'd fall, and let go of us. No luck. The fibers didn't stick well enough to get a proper purchase. Even knowing it wouldn't work, I tried lasering the side of its head. Nothing. Ugly thing was tough,

  In a flash we were aboard its ship. The inside was completely black. I could feel the body maker was still running, as air whooshed through it's claws and onto my face. After ten seconds or so it stopped. It set me down, though I had no idea where.

  “You okay, Sachiko?” called out Tank.

  “Yes. I'm over here. Are you alright?”

  “Sapale,” called out Jon, “you here?”

  “Yes, and I've already stripped off that ridiculous outfit.

  “I'm good, in case anyone wants to know,” I shouted a bit annoyed. “Everybody keep talking and I'll find you.”

  “Okay, but be careful.”

  I heard Tank crash into something and then the floor. It sounded metallic.

  “Tank, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Rookie mistake. I'll try it slower this time.”

  I started counting out loud. By thirty-six he slapped me with a hand.

  “Tank, good to see you. How are things?”

  We started making noise, and the women found us quick enough.

  Sachiko was obviously crying. She clung to Tank like he was her only lifeline.

  “Easy, kiddo.” He hugged her tightly and began stoking her long hair. “Easy does it. We're fine for now. Stay calm and we'll figure something out.” He held her until she was ready to let him go.

  “I can't see a thing,” I said loudly.

  “Me either,” responded Tank. “The Edoozers must see in a different frequency than visible light. I'm as blind as a … Hey, why not?” He started clapping his hands. “We can echolocate.”

  “I think this may be a little easier,” I said, as I switched on some external lights. They were faint, but the two humans could see a little, while Sapale and I saw things perfectly.

  “Can you two see okay to move?” I asked quietly.

  “Maybe,” replied Sachiko.

  “I think I do,” was Tanks response.

  “To your left I think the walls are farther away. Hold hands, if you get close enough to one another. Wait. I have a better idea. Sachiko, stay where you are. Sapale will come get you. I'll grab you, Tank.”

  “Your robotic eyes that good in the dark?” he asked.

  “Better. I can see your hands shaking.”

  “I do that when I'm cold.”

  “Sure. Not nervous.”

  “I'm a Marine. If we shake, we're either cold or it's a bad habit. Those are the only two reasons.”

  “I'll take your word on it, for now.”

  As I finished teasing him, I rested a hand on his shoulder. In a couple seconds, the women were by our side.

  We proceeded to a door or hallway. After rounding it, I saw a dull glow in the distance. We headed for it quickly. Pretty soon it became apparent the light glow was from a room off the corridor we were traversing. When we came to that intersection, we slipped around the corner, into the room, and pressed our backs against the wall.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Tank.

  “Vending machine, I think. Do you have any change?” I replied.

  “No one likes a smart ass.”

  I made a soft fart sound in reply.

  “Why isn't the body maker, or some damn alien, following us?” Tank whispered.

  “No clue. My guess is he's busy not getting wormholed as he lights out of the solar system. He's probably never had a prisoner to know what to do with one.”

  “Not reassuring. How long do we have?”

  “Not too very long. Come on. Let's get a look at that contraption.”

  We walked over slowly. The machine or devise was spherical and around twenty meters in diameter.

  As we neared I said, “It's transparent.”

  “I think so too. But what's the glowy stuff inside?” asked Sapale.

  “Kind of like a Jacob's ladder maybe?” guessed Sachiko.

  “Yeah, I can see the similarity. But this is randomly floating in three d
imensions.”

  “Plasma?” asked Sapale.

  I considered that a second. “No, that'd be much brighter. The stuff's hot. Plus who'd want to look at plasma?”

  It hit me. Of course. “It's time.”

  “Huh? Time for what?”

  “No, silly. We're looking at time. That's the time, or whatever, the Edoozers collect.”

  “Why would you leap to that very remote conclusion?” my wife pressed.

  “Because, if I've learned one thing about these horse's asses, it's that they love time. They, I don't know, revere it.”

  “Makes sense I guess. What, you think they cook up some popcorn and sit here staring at it?” Tank questioned.

  I looked to him. “Maybe they stand.”

  “This college professor persona has changed you. I'm not liking it so far.”

  “Tough titties.”

  “Doooo noootttt ttoouchh,” screamed the body maker, from behind where he'd snuck up on us.

  Tank balled up his fist and hurled it toward source of the green light. “You forgot to say please.” With that he slammed his fist down like a sledge on the clear, time-containing orb. It shattered with surprising ease.

  In physics, if a gas or liquid is more densely present in one location than another, it will diffuse until it has become uniform in its density. That is exactly what time did. It didn't burst, rush, or explode catastrophically. It spread like a soft breeze, like a gentle rumor. It wafted out of the breach and teased its way into the room. When it passed over and enveloped us, I could feel it. I knew time like I knew my own name. I was everywhere the time had been and I was standing right where I was, both feet firmly on the floor. If heroin was one millionth as great a rush, I'd never stop using it, assuming, of course we ever escaped. And time knew we would. No, I knew we would. No, in time we would. Yes, I experienced a time that hadn't occurred yet when Tank and Sachiko and Sapale and I were free and back home.

  My mind accelerated into reckless rapture. I spread my arms and swung myself around like Julie Andrews in the opening scene of The Sound of Music. Tank was in my time, too. He stood erect as the Washington Monument. His smile was bigger than the Grand Canyon. We floated in pure joy, forever, which lasted around five seconds.

  The body maker howled with the protest of a thousand deaths and raged over to the base of the time orb. He tapped and struck what must have been keys or switches. The escaped time still meandered through the air, but the hole was sealed and no more time was released. When he was satisfied the damage was contained, he wheeled on us. With a roar he charged, all seven arms grasping toward us.

  I could care less that we were about to die brutally. I was far too happy to worry about such a little thing as death. I wished that time would stop, so I could linger with it always, but if it didn't, I was good.

  That's when I noticed the body maker had stopped abruptly. A pincer hand was ten inches from my neck, but it was motionless. That, I did not anticipate. Through my wonder I turned to Tank. Two claw arms were even closer to his torso, but were also motionless. The women stood behind us, but they were targeted by other nasty appendages a little father off. All were motionless.

  I took a step. I could move. Just no one or nothing else seemed to have that capability. It hit me, what I'd done. I closed my eyes, and wished that the other three were in my time.

  “Now there's something you don't see everyday,” observed Tank. He poked at one of the claws. His withdrew his hand like he received a shock. Then he punched at it. Nothing. Then he hauled back a leg and kicked it with all his might. The body part didn't budge.

  Sapale came up and slid an arm around my elbow. “Did you just have the highest high you've ever had?”

  “I did. One could get used to that feeling.”

  She smiled with all the joy in the universe. “One could.”

  Sachiko batted at pincers. Nothing. She climbed up on it, sat, and crossed her legs. “Not very comfortable.” she slid to the floor.

  “What, I repeat, what the hell just happened?” demanded Tank.

  I squinted as I reflected. “We were standing here. The body maker repaired the damage you'd caused. He rushed us with primal hatred. I was having such a wonderful experience, I wished that time would stop, so I could live the rapture longer. Then, everything, except me, was frozen in time.”

  “Wait, you actually thought to yourself I want time to stop?”

  I pursed my lips. “Yes. I believe that's what I wished for.”

  “Oh yeah. We get wishes now.” Tank pumped his fist up and down wildly.

  “What are you on about, sir?” I pressed.

  “Don't you see? We absorbed time. Then you willed it to stop and it did.”

  “No. I can't do that.” I squeaked, “Can I?”

  “I think you just did,” remarked Sapale, as she patted my arm.

  “Oh, then I wished it to start again for you three, and you came to life.”

  Tank rubbed his chin. “Any idea how long this power might last?”

  I walked to the orb and leaned back on it. Though the world had stopped, the flow of time in it's bottle hadn't. No surprise there. I guess. “I haven't a clue. It would be nice if it never ended.”

  “Never ending time. Now there's a concept,” marveled Sapale.

  “I can see now why these creeps go to such lengths to acquire time. It's more than amazing stuff,” cooed Sachiko.

  We were all quiet a while.

  Sachiko finally spoke. “Time is open to us. I see us sitting at the White House in the future. There's no panic, no aliens crushing people.”

  “Yes, I see that future too,” said a passion-ridden Tank.

  “Let's all wish for that,” she breathed.

  Famous last words.

  THIRTEEN

  We stood, huddled tightly together in the White House. My eyes darted around to make reference. Though the room was empty, we were clearly in the Blue Room. That was basically the main entrance on the first floor. We'd passed through it the times we were summoned to the Situation Room, and I'd visited the White House a few times before my Ark 1 flight.

  “Do you notice something odd?” Tank asked quietly.

  “Maybe,” I said softly. There was something not quite right about the place. Sachiko mentioned that she saw us in a future, peaceful White House. This didn't seem like that.

  “No guards and no people,” said Sapale.

  Oops. She was wearing her coveralls and a short sleeve top. No burqa.

  “Maybe it's a holiday,” offered Sachiko.

  “There's no holiday where security is given the day off. Shaky, we should have been shot by now for appearing out of nowhere. Do you smell the wood fires?” Tank visibly sniffed the air.

  “If you do I guess so. They must have fireplaces, right? The White House can burn logs.”

  “I smell a lot of them,” I responded. “Probably having to do with all that snow I see out the windows.”

  “Snow in August?” Sachiko asked, puzzled.

  “Not hardly,” I returned. “Global warming meant that at this point, whatever's left of New England gets very little snow.”

  “So you think it's not August?” queried Sapale.

  I pointed, without speaking, to the window. Just then a man with a stovepipe hat walked in and stamped his feet to get the snow off. He wore a Victorian suit under his top coat. Yellow vest and vertical stripes on his pants, a real period piece. He noticed us and tipped his hat to me. “Good afternoon,” he said noncommittally. Then he disappeared into the Cross Hall.

  “Now there's so—” began Tank.

  “Don't say it,” I said. “Just don't. Come.”

  I led the others into the Cross Hall. The visitor was nearly to the end. Another man left one room and entered another. He took no note of us.

  “Did that fellow leave a trail of BO or what?” asked Tank.

  He had. “Quiet. This way.” I marched us off toward the West Wing. I had to stop when I reached the spot, a
nd the conclusion, that the West Wing wasn't present. “Where was the Oval Office before there was a West Wing?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Beats me. Lincoln's office was upstairs, I think. I toured here once with the family, and I think the docent mentioned that,” replied Tank.

  I headed back to where I'd seen stairs. We went to the next floor up and stepped into a hallway. That's when we saw a guard. And, not possibly a good thing, he saw us.

  “Wait there,” he said loudly. He strode over heavily, his rifle in one hand. “Who are you and what are you doing here. And why the devil are you wearing men's breeches, ma'am?”

  Tank composed himself quickly. “I'm General Sherman. I'm here to see the president. And watch your mouth around these ladies, if you've grown to fancy those stripes on your sleeve.”

  He scowled. “I served under General Sherman two year back. He comes here often. You are not he, sir.” He raised his rifle.

  “I'm another General Sherman, you idiot.”

  “Never heard there were two.”

  “What a surprise a sergeant doesn't know all the general officers. Now stand aside.”

  “Nope.” He called over his shoulder. “Billy, get some men up here on the double. We got trouble.” That's when his eyes strayed to actually notice Sapale.

  “Hey, what kind of—”

  “I wish time would stop,” I said softly. Hot damn. It did.

  “Nice move, Jon,” praised Tank.

  We stepped around the frozen form of the sergeant and headed to what was likely Lincoln's office. We guessed correctly. The great man himself sat behind a smallish-wooden desk, placed starkly in the center of the room. Immediately, I knew a woman hadn't done the decorating. He was staring at the floor, lost in thought, it would seem. His desktop was a mess with books, documents, and scribbled-on paper. He was alone. I pointed that the women should sit in the two of the chairs across from him. Us guys stood behind them.

  “Jon,” Sachiko queried, “why are we in Lincoln's office? We don't need to be here. You know that, right?”

  “If we're in the mid 1860s, with a chance to meet Abraham Lincoln, you can pretty much bet I'm going to meet Abraham Lincoln.”