The front door to the manor opens and a young man walks out. Jay is literally an older version of Jonah, so he has the same sandy hair, though now it’s been cut short. Adolescence has stretched him, his limbs yearning for manhood, but lacking the material to fill out. Even with his awkward angles and thin frame, Jay walks with confidence. His journal entries had exposed his nervousness, but it isn’t showing tonight. His father turns as he walks up, perhaps hoping for a last minute change of heart. Jay pauses near him, looking Ebenezer in the eyes, but says nothing. After this moment of silence, he walks up to the old man.
“Good evening, Master Elgin,” Jay says.
“It seems your time has come, young man,” Elgin replies. “I presume you are well prepared?”
“I’m ready,” Jay says. He straightens up a little taller and strides around the men to the open rear door of the vehicle. He casts a single lingering glance at the house, his expression softening, and for a moment he looks like the little boy I know. He then climbs into the dark interior of the truck, slamming the door closed behind him. I follow his last gaze to the manor and notice the face peering out of an upstairs window.
Jonah.
Elgin hands something to his assistant and the bulky man lumbers over to Ebenezer to put the item in his hand.
“We don’t want you to feel you have been entirely unappreciated, Sprocket,” Elgin says. “Your assistance in these matters has been most effective.”
“You think I was after money?” Ebenezer scoffs.
“No. I am aware of your priorities. We simply want you to have the means to enjoy your time with your remaining son.” He turns and begins his shuffle back to the truck. “Relish it while you can.”
Ebenezer is scowling at the old man’s back. “I’ve done what you asked. I never want to see you here again, Elgin.”
The old man doesn’t respond, he merely climbs into the truck and closes the door behind himself. The assistant gets into the front seat and presses something on the console. I note there is no steering wheel on either side of the dashboard. He closes his door and the interior goes dark again. The truck executes a neat turn and leaves the way it came, leaving Ebenezer staring after it. When the truck is gone, he looks at the something in his palm and slips it into his pocket before making his way back the house.
Jonah is still watching from the upstairs window, but as his father gets close to the house, his head disappears behind the curtains. I’m left alone again in the darkness, trying to make sense of what I’ve just seen.
I climb back into the garden shed and jump back to a minute after I left. Darius is outside in the drizzling rain, staring at the house.
“And now you know,” he says.
“I don’t know what I know,” I reply. “Only that Ebenezer wasn’t very honest with us. You could hardly call that trying to stop someone. He pretty much just let Jay go.”
“You know that Jonah and Jay are alternates of one another, not brothers,” Darius says.
“Yeah. I did know that. But Jonah has had a different past now, so they shouldn’t necessarily go down the same path.”
“Unless someone forces them.”
I ponder what the synth is implying. “Are these Eternals using mind control? The people I know who have heard of the Eternals consider them a creepy cult. I don’t get what makes anyone want to join them.”
“In his conversations with himself, Jay claimed the Eternals would save humanity.”
“From what?”
“The future.”
I run a hand though my now-wet hair. “Jonah seems like a smart kid. I assume Jay is just as sharp. He’s still just a teenager though. Why did they recruit him?”
Darius is quiet for a moment, then turns his gaze toward the manor. “That is the most difficult part. The Eternals did not seek out Master Jay. He found them.”
I run into Ebenezer at the top of the stairs just outside the door to Jonah’s room. He looks at my soggy appearance and frowns. “Can I get you a towel? I know English weather is—”
I put up a hand to cut him off. “When I first met Jonah he was wearing a helmet on his head. Bright colors, looked like a snail. Said his brother gave it to him. I assume you’re familiar with it?”
“Yes, Jonah was rather fond of—”
“You built it, didn’t you.”
Ebenezer narrows his eyes. “My workshop here at home has always been open to the boys. They both enjoy tinkering on whatever suits them.”
“But you would have wanted this project to succeed. Jonah said it kept out ‘brain invaders.’ He meant The Eternals. What did you design into it?”
Ebenezer considers me a moment, seeming to waffle about whether to admit his involvement, but when I don’t relent in staring him down, he finally begins to explain.
“It was a device intended to reorganize a person’s brain. It has applications for treatment of Alzheimer’s, dementia, and a variety of other mental disorders. It maps brain activity and memories, and determines what is considered ‘normal.’ Then, if changes occur outside of established parameters, it can make corrections, modify the mind back to the original. It had other applications too—aiding in memory retention especially.”
“Like some kind of re-boot? Put your brain back to factory settings? That sounds a bit scary.”
“No. It’s more fluid than that. You can certainly learn new things, gain new memories, but by cataloguing your mind, it would guard against catastrophic loss of memory from disease or trauma. The medical applications would make it highly desirable.”
“Did it go into production?”
“No. Ambrose Cybergenics got embroiled in a lawsuit over the ethical implications of the device. People worried that their minds would be cloned. There were rumors going around that the company was copying people’s memory files into synths—using them to steal people’s identities. After the company’s involvement in the last chronothon, their reputation suffered badly. It’s under new management since the founder is still missing, but the courts ruled against them and the rights to the device reverted back to me.
“I had kept various prototypes around anyway, because I discovered there were even more applications for time travelers. It doesn’t just prevent loss of old memories. It also guards against a mass influx of new memories.” He looks me in the eye with the last line.
“Sudden influx. Like if someone was trying to add new content to your mind.”
Ebenezer nods. “These Eternals, they do things I never thought possible. They get into your head.” He taps a crooked finger against his temple. “They already got to my family in another timestream.”
“Jay.”
“When he showed up here, telling me when he was from, I didn’t know what to think. He’s my son, alternate timestream or not, but he was different. Troubled. I don’t know all the details of his future in that time, but it’s not one I want for Jonah. Whatever he’s gotten himself into, I’m not going to see them corrupt my boy too.”
“Jonah said that Jay was the one who gave him the helmet. It sounded like Jay was trying to protect him.”
Ebenezer’s expression softens. “Jay’s a good boy. At least when he’s himself. Lately he’s been more and more like—someone different. I don’t know how to describe it. He’s losing his mind. That’s the most accurate way to put it. He knew it, though. There was nothing I could do. Days when he wasn’t obsessively chanting or getting lost in his own head, sometimes he’d come back to us. Those were the good days. He asked me to make Jonah the helmet on a day like that. Helped me make it. He did love him. During times when he remembered us anyway.” Ebenezer stares at me, his face a mask of worry. “The boy should still be wearing it. He might listen to you. He respects you.”
“Where is the helmet now?”
“In his bedroom.” Ebenezer gestures toward the door.
I rap my knuckles against the door a few times and enter. Jonah is seated on his bed, showing Tucket and Mym something on an electronic tablet.
All three look up when I enter. The new snail helmet is hanging on a hook next to the closet. I remove it from the hook and inspect it. It’s not painted this time, just a metallic chrome that appears to be the same material Darius is made of. It’s much lighter than I expected. I take a knee in front of Jonah, handing him the helmet. The boy sets his tablet aside and takes the helmet from me.
“Looks like you might still need this, bud.”
Jonah frowns. “You said I wouldn’t have to. You said I’ll always be one of the good guys. And good guys don’t invade people’s brains.”
I sigh, taking the helmet from his lap and carefully squeezing it onto his head. “You are one of the good guys, Jonah. But sometimes even good guys need a little bit of help staying that way. We just want to keep you safe, till we know what the future brings.”
Jonah doesn’t argue, but I can tell he’s disappointed. His eyes search mine for just a moment, then he slides off the bed and dashes out of the room. Barley gets out of his dog bed in the corner and trots after him, tail wagging.
Mym is watching me closely.
Ebenezer wraps his arms around himself. “He’ll be all right. It’s been rough for him lately. I’m sure he’s going to get adjusted to it.” He looks at Tucket and Mym. “I hope you all can stay the night and spend a little more time with him. He seems to be enjoying your company very much.” He shifts a little and waves toward the doorway. “Can I talk you into a plate of Darius’s shepherd’s pie?”
As Ebenezer leads Tucket downstairs in search of dinner, Mym takes me aside to question me. She grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway where we won’t be overheard from downstairs.
“What is this all about? Who are you protecting the boy from?”
I pull Mym a little closer, hugging her to my chest, grateful for a moment alone with her. “I think I’m protecting him from himself, as shitty as that sounds.”
Mym wraps her arms around me. “The older brother is him, right? You think these Eternals he’s caught up with might be a threat to this version of him too?”
I kiss the top of her head. “I think so.”
“What did you learn from the book?”
“Not as much as I learned from the butler.” I give her the abbreviated account of my trip to Wednesday night and the visitors in the black truck, including how I recognized the old man’s voice. “Darius said the men that showed up weren’t just here to collect Jay. Whoever they are, they’re up to something big, and we’re involved now. That old man, Elgin, was at your dad’s lab as a kid and he knew my name.”
Mym looks up at me. “Our next stop should be somewhere with a tachyon pulse transmitter. We need to let dad know what we’ve found.”
“Let’s make that first thing tomorrow then. If he’s had any luck, maybe he can answer some of our questions too.” God knows we need something to go on. I take Mym’s hand and lead her downstairs.
On our way to the kitchen we pass a case displaying a collection of Ebenezer’s inventions, including a pair of shiny robotic heads. Both bear a striking resemblance to the current chief of house. I can’t help but wonder how Darius feels about their present condition, and if he finds their presence in the manor strange. Would he wish for more of himself around the house to interact with? So far, my experience with other selves has inclined me to think he may be better off than I am. He knows where his alternates are at all times, and they seem unlikely to meddle with his future. Can I say the same?
10
“One of my favorite parts of being a time traveler is the ability to feel out of place, even in one’s own culture. Journeying across fifty years can make a person a foreigner just as much as a trip across hemispheres.” -Journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, August 28, 1912
The Neverwhere
The thick bark of the redwood tree flakes away under pressure from my fingertips. The crevices and crannies of the gargantuan trunk contain bits of leaves, leavings from bugs, even chunks of lichen grasping for a hold. It is all so real.
Only it isn’t.
I am a ghost. A memory among memories. Some ethereal waif, traipsing from remembered past to remembered past. Whose mind do I occupy now? Is it still my own? I left my body all alone back in St. Petersburg in a lab in 1996. I try to imagine a scenario where I might return to it, but that is impossible now. I vanished. There one moment, gone the next.
There one moment.
I never imagined my end while I was alive. I certainly didn’t consider the possibility that I might simply stop being, letting the world around me continue while all that there ever was of me confined itself to an ultimate brief sliver of time. One final moment, forever.
I frown at my piece of redwood bark and crumble it in my hand. In some ways I’m freer now. I can travel from one location to another, flitting from memory to memory at will. I haven’t had to eat or sleep or even take a leak. There is certainly no way I’ll be asked to come in to work. I’ve called in dead.
So why don’t I feel dead? Why have I not passed on? Is it some lingering business that keeps me here?
I know what I desire to be the reason. I want to believe that I have a purpose, a meaning. I want to believe that my life mattered so much that death couldn’t take me. Perhaps that I was too young. A life still so promising. I had after all, found love. It is tempting to believe that love could be more powerful than death, that because of it, I am bound and knotted to her life so intricately that no violent end could unravel us.
That is what I would like to believe. What I feel, however, is that death is still very real for me. My tenuous hold on consciousness grows thinner and frays at times, most especially when I find myself in the presence of Zurvan. What was it Benny said?
He collects souls.
The forest is pleasant. Growing. It feels alive, too. This memory is vivid—not even a hint of fog to spoil the view. My family came to this part of the park repeatedly in my childhood. Even so, I can sense the impermanence of it. If I were to wander, perhaps hike off the trail and beyond the familiar ridge to the south, I couldn’t keep going. There are trails in this forest that lead all the way to the coast. I’ve seen many of them, but not enough. I couldn’t make it to the ocean from here. I couldn’t make it back to Oregon or farther south in California. My memory is too spotty.
The air in front of me shimmers when I reach my hand out. The hint of a portal. To where? What is my next step in solving this mystery? I have more clues now. A message to the cult of Eternals. More obscure names and references to puzzle over. The Alpha. Yanar Dag. Zurvan. It’s all nonsense to me without some frame of reference. I need to find the hard edges of the puzzle—frame this mystery so I can begin to wrap my mind around it.
Zurvan’s memories overlap mine in St. Petersburg, but only in a distant, desolate version of the city. The flooded, brackish shell of skeletal condos and ruined skyscrapers. What was he doing there? I recall the four-sided building with the fire pit inside. The miniature temple seemed so out of place, stacked on the rubble of the city. Everything about Zurvan felt out of place there. His was the other realm. The desert and dunes. Benny said it was Iraq or Iran. He spoke like he’d been there. How is it that Benny has seen so much? How many other people’s memories has he explored? The ragged version of me has survived in this place somehow. He’s fled and hid, but he’s survived.
And he saved me. A feat I’ve failed to accomplish with others.
My only ally in his place has more information than I do. He has to. Perhaps he holds more of the edge pieces. At least some of them. If so, we can solve this together.
I open a portal to the cemetery, but he isn’t there. I try Kaylee’s apartment next, then back to the house in Oregon, all with no luck. I stroll down an empty Central Avenue, poking my head into favorite bars and restaurants without seeing him. I have my hands out to open a portal and am about to start on another tour of my old apartments when I find him. Or rather, he finds me.
“Why are you looking for me?” Benny is leaning against
the dingy brick corner of Detroit Liquors, appraising me cautiously. It’s a spot I usually associate with panhandlers or hippie musicians who sit cross-legged next to open guitar cases, hastily murdering Bob Marley tunes in hopes of scoring beer money. With his bare feet and frayed jeans, Benny looks worthy of a handful of loose change himself. His unkempt hair is drooping into his eyes in a thick blanket, making him look like a forgotten Beatle.
I put my hands back in my pockets and face him. “I need your help.”
Benny wrinkles his nose. I’m not sure if he’s displeased by my suggestion or if perhaps his memory has brought back more details of what this corner of Central Avenue typically smelled like. He shrugs away from the wall and starts walking downhill, crossing the street, aimed toward the marina a block and a half down. I jog after him.
“I saw Zurvan again. Saw him talk to someone.”
Benny pauses with one foot on the curb of the next sidewalk. “You shouldn’t get near him. He’s dangerous.”
“He has someone helping him on the other side. They send him people to talk to. Do you know what’s going on there?”
Benny studies my face for a moment, then keeps walking. I catch up and fall into step beside him. “He talks to a guy named Elgin. The Eternal Line of Gnomon. These people are supposed to bring him a star, and he says he’ll save them from the fate of humanity. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
Benny crosses his arms and keeps his eyes on the sidewalk ahead of him. Physically he’s cut off, but I can tell he’s listening.
“I had more luck with the past, too. I saw another one of us. Couple actually, but I saw one from the future. He was looking for me.”
Benny stops short this time and turns, his eyes searching my face, scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes. His voice is sharp and aggressive. “Someone is looking? One of us?”
“Yeah. He knows about this place, he knows I’m here.”
“What did you do? How did you get through to him?” Benny’s voice is eager now—hungry.
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