by Edward Gates
“Stop,” Russell commanded again and the fans stopped. He combed his hair, and on the medical panel in his bathroom, selected four-by-four antibiotic bandages. He pressed the button three times and the panel dispensed three bandages which Russell put on over his wound. He dressed in his blue employee overalls and looked around his room for his encoded employee chip. Then he remembered, the lockbox!
“Time!” Russell said aloud.
“9:25 PM, JUNE 27th, 2220,” the mechanical voice announced.
Five more minutes until he jumped to Amarillo, he thought. He had to hurry.
As quickly as a wounded man could move, and at the same time trying not to attract attention to himself, Russell made his way to the building where his time jump was in process. Before he went in, he saw a man in a suit leave the lab building and walk right past him directly to a waiting personal vehicle in front of the lab. The man was preoccupied on his data cell and didn’t pay any attention to Russell. The man climbed into the seat, barked a destination command and sat back while the computer controlled vehicle sped away. All Russell could do was watch as the vehicle disappeared in the dark. The suit! That’s the guy I saw in the lab! “What the hell was Paul Camber doing here this time of night?” Russell murmured.
Russell didn’t like Paul Camber and he certainly didn’t trust him. An account representative for an international electronics conglomerate that supplied a few electronic components shouldn’t be here this time of night. Something wasn’t right, Russell thought. But he didn’t have time to worry about that now.
Russell let himself into the non-descript grey concrete building that housed a number of DARPA’s ultra-secret black projects. There was no trace of these projects. They weren’t on anyone’s books, so they didn’t officially exist. These were the type of projects where a person could be entirely erased and no one would know anything about it. Russell had to be careful.
Although there were a few people around, no one paid any attention to him as he walked to the door of his lab. After a palm scan, the door clicked open and Russell went in. As soon as he entered, there was a bright flash of a blue light that filled the entire room. He looked over at the large silver and gold disks housed in a separate glass enclosure, and watched himself disappear in the light. A chill ran through his body at the vision of his body dematerializing in-between the two disks. He froze for a second, startled by the sight. After the flash disappeared, he regained his composure and ducked behind a power panel and watched the two operators at their stations.
Michael O’Riley sat at his console with his back to the glass enclosure. Steven Marcohen, was standing at his station watching the data roll across the glass top display of his desk. With their backs to him, Russell made his way to the lockbox and retrieved his data cell and employee chip. He quickly scampered back to the cover of the power panels.
“I lost him!” Steven yelled. He appeared to be quite agitated as he looked over at Michael.
“What do you mean lost him?” Michael jumped to his feet.
“He was there, and then, all of a sudden, his genetic ID just vanished! My God! He’s lost. We lost him, Mike! What do we do?”
“Settle down, Steve. We couldn’t have lost him. Run diagnostics. Make sure the equipment didn’t fail.” Michael turned to go to Steven’s station when he suddenly stopped. A blinking red light on the panel of his console was flashing the destination date. “Oh my God!” Michael froze.
“What?”
“He’s not lost. He’s in another dimension.”
“What are you talking about?” Steven asked. “He can’t be in another dimension.”
“The destination,” Michael said. “It’s set wrong. Instead of 1992, it was set to 1892.”
“How could that happen?” Steven asked.
“I don’t know! Somebody had to have changed it, or … or … somehow I accidentally reset it. I don’t know! I don’t know!” Michael replied.
“Well get him back!”
“We can’t just get him back, Steve! It’s not that simple. The entire system is programmed for 1992 but with the matrix set to 1892, God knows where he ended up. We’d have to reprogram the whole system just to find him!” Michael said. He dropped back down in his chair and stared at the blank screens at his station, in what appeared to be deep thought.
“What’ll we do?” Steven asked.
“Quiet. I’m thinking. Go get Zeller. Hopefully I’ll have this figured out when you get back.”
Russell ducked farther back behind the power panels as Steven rushed past him on his way out of the lab. He was relieved to find out that he wasn’t sent to 1892 on purpose. Russell decided to make himself known, but just as he was about to step out, Michael leaned back in his chair and laughed. It wasn’t an accident.
30
Doctor Zeller
Russell struggled with the notion that Michael was the one that sabotaged his time jump. A cold sweat broke out all over his body and he trembled with fear. He sank lower behind the power units and watched Michael sit motionless behind his station. He was now certain his being sent to 1892 was deliberate. Michael just kept staring at the blank tracking screen as if expecting something to happen.
Russell wasn’t sure what to do. Fear gripped him and he couldn’t move. He thought about Charlie and wished he was there. He thought about confronting Michael when Steven returned with Doctor Melissa Zeller.
Doctor Zeller was the physicist in charge of the teleportation program and Russell’s boss. She was a tall slender lady and quite attractive for her age. Not that the mid-fifties was old, but most people of that age group show certain signs of aging. With her, however, any signs of her age were non-existent. Her short red hair bounced as she walked, or rather marched. She always moved as if she had a deliberate purpose to her gait, as if she was bearing down on a target. Russell froze as Steven and Doctor Zeller passed by in a hurry.
“Report!” Doctor Zeller demanded as she got within earshot of Michael.
Michael, apparently startled by her abrupt arrival, rose and quickly turned to face his boss. He didn’t, or couldn’t speak at all. He just stood staring at Doctor Zeller with his mouth open.
“Michael?” Doctor Zeller said again. “I’m waiting.”
Michael stammered a bit as he began. “We … we … we programmed the destination mark for an area just north of Amarillo, Texas on this date in 1992. Everything seemed to go exactly as before. No problems at all.” Michael looked over at Steven, who still had a bewildered look about him.
“Go on,” Doctor Zeller urged.
“Well, after a few minutes, Steve just said he lost track of Hicks. Gone, just like that.”
Doctor Zeller walked over to Steven and stood close to him. “How did this happen, Steven?” She asked in a stern managerial voice. Steven couldn’t look her in the face. He kept looking down. “I’m waiting, Mr. Marcohen. You need to tell me what happened.”
Russell fought back the urge to jump out and tell what he knew. He stayed in the shadows and watched Steven briefly raise his head and look at Doctor Zeller.
“It was my fault,” Michael said interrupting Doctor Zeller’s interrogation of Steven.
“Your fault?” Doctor Zeller turned now to Michael.
But then Steven finally spoke up. “Well, it … it was crazy! I was tracking him. We had good data on him. It appeared he transformed fine. Then …” He again looked at Doctor Zeller and then over at Michael.
“Then what?” Doctor Zeller demanded.
“Then … then he just wasn’t there anymore. I thought the tracking system failed but the diagnostics I ran proved everything was functioning correctly. He just disappeared.”
Doctor Zeller stepped back from Steven. “They don’t just disappear, Steven. Get him back.” She turned to Michael “You two get Russell back here. I don’t care how you do it and I don’t care how long it takes. You get him back here!”
“He’s in another dimension,” Michael said. “It’s not that eas
y. It’s going to take some time.”
“Another dimension? What dimension?”
“We’re not sure.” Michael lowered his head.
“What do you mean you’re not sure?” Doctor Zeller raised her voice. “How in the world did he miss a programmed dimension?”
“Like I said, it’s my fault.” Michael said. “Somehow the matrix year was off by one digit. It got switched to 1892 instead of 1992. The programming is set for 1992 but the matrix was set to 1892. I didn’t catch it until Steve said he lost him.”
“Then find him in 1892 and get him back here.” She turned and stormed out of the lab.
Russell knew the problems Michael and Steven would face. They would have to trace the exact path Russell took through the matrix to 1892, mathematically rebuild that same path, and then try to retrieve him. He knew they would both be busy for quite some time. He also knew they would never succeed. This would be a good time to make his way out of the lab and pay Doctor Zeller a visit.
31
Revelation
Russell watched the two operators. They were busy running trace sequences through the time matrix trying to locate the exact path Russell followed. Michael moved the setting back to 1892 and began to run a new set of scans. He appeared surprised that the scan didn’t locate Russell in 1892. He stood and with a bewildered expression on his face, watched the negative returns coming to his station from the scan.
“Got something?” Steven asked.
“No,” Michael said. “No, but there should have at least been ... No. I mean I got nothing. Not a thing. There’s no trace of him.” He sat back down at his station. He looked over at Steven to ensure Steven was busy and not paying any attention to him. Then Michael went back to running meaningless traces just to appear busy. It was obvious to Russell that Michael had no intention of bringing him back at all.
With both operators feverishly working at their respective stations, Russell slipped unnoticed out of the lab. He moved outside and into the night shadows of the grey concrete building housing top secret DARPA black projects. Russell kept rolling the revelations he had just uncovered over in his mind trying to digest it all.
First there was Mr. Camber. As an outside sales rep, he had limited access to the buildings and was restricted from the labs. Any visits to the various labs in the building were usually controlled and escorted by an employee or a guarad. Russell wondered how he was able to get unfettered access.
Paul Camber’s corporation was well connected in the government and had deep pockets. Through some corporate and government espionage, they found out about the time-travel project. The value of this project to their corporation, both commercially and criminally, would be immeasurable and have global implications. They were determined to do whatever it took to acquire the technology for their own private use, regardless of consequences and cost.
A few weeks ago, Mr. Camber asked Russell to supply him with certain information and documents about the project. Camber told him that he could “… make it worth his while” if he cooperated. Russell refused his offer and Paul Camber told him he’d made a big mistake. At the time Russell didn’t know what he meant by that. Now he did.
Camber either changed the date himself while Michael was busy, or successfully bribed Michael to do it. He must have convinced Michael that they had to get rid of Russell and supply technical project information to him. Russell was sure Michael was getting well paid for his betrayal. He had to talk to Doctor Zeller.
Russell walked out of the building’s shadows and across the courtyard to the administration building. It was one of the most secure buildings in the complex. There’s only one way in and one way out. Aside from the massive steel door that was virtually impregnable when closed, the entrance was controlled by a very large, heavily armed guard whose job is to find any reason to deny entry. The guard’s station is a small enclosure of steel, concrete, and two inch-thick shatterproof glass plates.
“I want to see Doctor Zeller,” Russell announced as he approached the scanners on the front of the booth.
“Pretty late. I don’t think the doctor is here.”
“She’s here,” Russell said. “She just came back from the lab. Tell her Russell Hicks needs to speak with her. She’ll see me.”
The guard stared at Russell for a moment. Russell could tell by his demeanor that he was not very happy to see him. “Hicks?” He asked.
“Yeah, Russell Hicks.” He placed his ID chip on the sensor by the gate.
“Scan.” The guard said and Russell put his right hand on a palm scanner. The guard watched a screen inside his office for the results of Russell’s palm scan. Seemingly satisfied that Russell was who he said he was, he pressed his data cell and announced to Doctor Zeller that Russell was here to see her. It was a short conversation.
A steel gate next to the guard booth swung open. Russell walked through the gate and stopped as the guard approached. “Through the second door.”
Russell looked down the hallway of a series of large thick metal doors, resembling bank vaults. The second door slowly opened for him. He thanked the guard and entered into a small entry room. The large door closed behind him and he heard the bolts engage to lock him in. Once the door was secure, a second smaller door on the opposite side of the room opened to reveal a small staircase that led to Doctor Zeller’s office.
Russell found it difficult climbing the stairs with the wound in his side. He looked up at the top of the stairs and there to greet him was Doctor Zeller. She watched him struggle to climb the steps.
“I’m glad they got you back, Hicks. Are you hurt?”
“Yes. I’m hurt. But they didn’t get me back.” Russell paused at the top of the stairs. “They’re still looking for me. They don’t know I’m back here yet.” He kept walking past her into her office and sat down. Doctor Zeller, frozen in place by his last remarks, didn’t reply. She stared at him with a confused and concerned look on her face as he passed her. She followed him into the office and closed the door.
“What are you talking about?” she asked in an authoritative tone.
“We need to talk about a lot of things I learned. And you’re not going to believe half of it,” Russell said.
Doctor Zeller sat down behind her desk and leaned forward to her desk console. “Does this involve the project?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then I’d better get Mike and Steve over here.” She reached for her communication switches.
“No!” Russell reached forward and stopped her hand. “Let them keep searching. They’ll be busy for hours. You need to know some things first.”
Doctor Zeller leaned back in her chair. Russell told her the whole story about his encounter with Charlie and the old west. He told her about Charlie’s time travel and how he got back using Charlie’s device, which was decades ahead of anything he and Doctor Zeller could ever imagine at this stage of their project. He spoke about his wound and what happened to him afterwards. Russell paused in his story and sat quietly for a moment gathering his thoughts of the past week with Charlie. Eventually the story rolled around to his encounter with Paul Camber and the suspicion he had about Michael. He was certain that the “mistake” Michael supposedly made was not a mistake at all, but a deliberate attempt to get rid of him.
“I would have been lost for good if it hadn’t been for Charlie,” he finally said.
Doctor Zeller didn’t answer at first. It was as if she was transfixed by Russell’s story. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands behind her head. “Some of this is just too unbelievable! What are the odds of you travelling to an arbitrary time dimension and running into another traveler? This is just too much.”
Russell leaned forward and supported himself on Doctor Zeller’s desk, “Charlie was no fool. He had some very stern warnings about how dangerous time travel could be; not only to the past and the future, but also for the traveler. He lived it for t
hirty years. He saw himself as a caretaker of that era. He’s been right about everything he’s said. I believed him. I think we need to re-evaluate not only what we’re doing here, but why we’re doing it.” Their discussion went on for hours.
Russell was pale and in pain. He felt as if he would faint at any time. Doctor Zeller summoned a medical team to her office. The medical techs wanted to take him to their facility but Doctor Zeller and Russell both refused and made them swear to keep this treatment secret for now. Doctor Zeller told them Russell would be brought to the medical facility the next day and they could report their late night call then.
Hours had passed. In utter frustration Steven crumpled up his empty paper coffee cup and threw it at the console of his station. “That’s it!” he yelled. “I’m done. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t think anymore.”
Michael turned toward Steven and appeared just as frustrated. “I don’t know either, Steve. I’m with you. I’ve checked 100 years on either side of that target in the matrix and got nothing. It’s like he just disappeared.”
Steven walked over and sat on the corner of Michael’s station desk. “What’ll we do? We’ve only been able to rebuild a third of his path. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to find any further trace, much less rebuild it.” He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “If this gets out, we’re done. This project is over.”
“This project is not over,” Michael said. “Everyone knew the hazards with this game. Even Hicks. He above all knew the risks involved. Hell, he’s the one who told us about the possible problems.” Michael stood and walked a few steps away. “No, this project isn’t done. They need this to keep going. They need us to keep going. They need us to work out the kinks.” He paused and stood looking back and forth between Steven and the humming equipment. Steven sat motionless with his head still in his hands. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want any?”