Empty Planet

by Lynette Sloane

  Charlie peered out from behind her saying, “Dad?”

  John spoke again, “Maisie, please let me explain. Can I come in? I have so much to tell you.”

  Mum hesitated then spoke quietly, “You have five minutes.” John followed her into the hallway, pushed the washing out of the way with his foot, and shut the door.

  I waited at the bottom of the driveway. Soon the front door opened again and Charlie and my younger self stepped outside. The boys were complaining that their Mum had only sent them out of the house so she could speak to the stranger in private. They ran down the driveway stopping when they noticed me.

  “Are you with that man?” asked Charlie.

  “Is he our Dad?” the younger boy cut in before I could answer Charlie’s question. Being able to look into the eyes of this young lad, knowing I was in fact looking into my own eyes, was mind blowing and something very few people will experience.

  “Yes I’m with him. You’ll have to ask your Mum who he is when you get back.” I looked at Charlie feeling such love for my brother. I grieved for him too, knowing what a mess he was going to make of his life, and swore to myself that when I got back to natural time I would do everything I could to help him get off the drugs and get his life back in order.

  I watched the two boys run up the street, remembering they would take a detour to the park and mess about for a bit before they returned home without the bread and milk.

  __________

  I waited by the wall for a further five minutes talking to a neighbour who thought I held a striking likeness to one of the Massie’s lads. When John opened the door I ducked behind the large rhododendron bush so Mum wouldn’t see me. If a neighbour had noticed the likeness I held to my younger self it was natural that Mum would too, and I didn’t want to interfere with the timeline.

  However, John needed to prove to Mum that he was telling the truth so called me up to the front door. I was so nervous I thought I would clam up and be unable to say anything.

  Mum took one look at me and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness it is him!” She hugged me and I held on to her, having to force myself to let go. I couldn’t make her suspicious and didn’t want her to think I hadn’t seen her for so long. I was so happy to be with her again, but the grief I felt, knowing I’d have to leave her in a few short minutes, was almost more than I could bear.

  Mum was very perceptive, and even though our eyes only met for a moment I could see she knew something was wrong. When John excused himself for a few minutes, asking to go to the bathroom, Mum signalled me to follow her into the dining room and shut the door behind us so he couldn’t hear what she had to say.

  “We’ve only got a moment,” she said quickly, “I can read you like a book you know, even though you’re grown up. In your time, how long is it since you’ve seen me?”

  “About twenty months. I’ve been very busy at work.”

  “Steve, don’t take me for a fool. There’s more to it than that. I saw it in your eyes. You didn’t want to let go of me. In your time I’m dead aren’t I?”

  “I’m not allowed to discuss anything about the future.”

  “So that’s a yes then. You remember that time you stayed at Nan’s in the Easter holidays, and when you got back I was very ill?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, I’d had surgery for bowel cancer. They thought they’d got it all, but there was always a chance it would return. I recently had another scare, but it proved to be nothing. At least now I know I have several more years and I’ll see you both grow up.”

  “Sorry Mum.”

  “It’s ok; knowing I’ll see you and Charlie become adults has made me very happy.”

  “One more thing Mum, I hope they’ll forgive me for telling you. I’m getting married tomorrow, that is, the day after I get back.”

  “Oh Steve, I won’t be at your wedding. Who is she?” Mum asked, disappointed, yet happy to know I was settling down. I took a small wallet out of my jeans pocket, opened it and showed Mum a photo.

  “Her name’s Anna. She’s a wonderful girl; I love her so much. We met in Port Glasgow when Dad was on business.”

  “She looks lovely. Will I meet her?”

  “Lot’s of times, but when you do please don’t say anything about this.”

  “Don’t worry I won’t.” Mum smiled and hugged me again. “Come on, we’d better go back in the hall or your father will wonder what we’ve been talking about. You can’t tell him about me.”

  I said I wouldn’t.

  John came downstairs as we walked back into the hallway. He looked over to Mum and asked, “Have you decided? Can I start seeing the boys?”

  “Yes, of course you can, now I know it’s all true.” She paused, then continued, “I guess neither of you have transport.” We both shook our heads. “John, your car’s still in the garage. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. It still runs so you can take it.”

  We made our way outside. Mum unlocked the garage and gave the car keys to Dad, who smiled and thanked her.

  Dad and I drove off in the black, four-wheel drive people carrier. It was a good thing that we didn’t need to get diesel because neither of us had any money with us, and my credit card wouldn’t have worked; it would be another seven years before it would be registered and the Steve Blakely of this timeframe would be old enough to apply for it.

  We stopped at a service station and John phoned ahead—reversing the charges—to let a very surprised C know he was alive, back from the future and on his way to Section. Of course, we were driving to the original Section building, not the one Section had just relocated to in natural time.

  Once back in the car John inquired, “I suppose you know the way to Section Headquarters?”

  “Yes, and I now understand why you broke the rules and gave me that information.”

  “And I shall do so again when your younger self is older,” John told me.

  __________

  Several hours later we pulled into the nondescript side road which lead to Section Headquarters, both exhausted from the days activities and the long drive. The security guard stopped us at the main gate, but immediately let us drive through when John gave him the password, which consisted of eleven random letters and numbers. He directed us into a large hanger housing several helicopters where an armed detail was waiting for us.

  Several security personnel immediately surrounded the vehicle and stood pointing their firearms in our direction.

  “Get out of the car and spread eagle of the floor,” shouted one of the guards. We did as he commanded.

  John was told to stand first. An aging, slightly overweight medical officer scanned him for weapons then took his retinal readings in order to identify him. Once satisfied, the officer told him to step to one side. Next, the guard told me to stand. The medical officer scanned me for weapons, found my handgun and ammunition, and passed it to the guard who confiscated it. Next he performed a retinal scan.

  John said, “It’s ok, he’s my son. You won’t find his readings on record.”

  They didn’t, so the guard told me to accompany my father into the main building. Because I couldn’t be identified, two armed security personnel walked behind us as a safety precaution. Everything at Section looked much the same as it had the last time I’d been here, except one of the buildings was missing. In its place were a grassed area and a rose garden.

  We were shown into C’s office. C looked at Dad with interest. The last time he’d seen John, John had looked thirty-two, now he appeared to be nearly sixty. This was much older than expected, even though from C’s perspective Dad had been missing for ten years.

  “Whatever happened to you,” C exclaimed.

  “Extreme temporal advancement. I jumped too far. Fortunately my future self thought to send an injection with this young man to stabilise my internal organs. My appearance aged but inside I’m still in my early thirties.”

  “We might be able to help you with that,” said C. “There
have been several advancements in skin regeneration while you’re been away. If that injection contains what I think it does we’ll have you looking years younger in no time.”

  C looked at me curiously, wondering who I was.

  “This is Steve, my youngest son. He’ll work for Section in the future and you’ll send him forward in time to retrieve me.”

  I explained, “I travelled by vortex to the year 2283, where I had discovered John six weeks previously, but couldn’t send him back to his original time as the length of the jump would have proved fatal. Unfortunately, he reacted badly to the injection and I had to drag him through the vortex and ended up getting trapped here in my past.”

  “Well,” said C, “we can send you back to your time once we’re satisfied beyond any doubt that you are who you say you are. I know you aren’t allowed to tell us anything that could result in an alteration of the timeline, but I do have a couple of questions for you.”

  “Yes Commander?” I answered.

  “Firstly, how did you open the vortex to travel to this time?”

  “With this,” I said, taking the handheld temporal transceiver out of my jacket pocket and offering it to him. C took it, turning it in his hands and examining at it from every angle.

  “Now that’s an impressive piece of technology,” he said. Then handing it back to me continued, “You’d better take it with you. We might create an alternative future if we have this too soon … Secondly, have you noticed anything different to the Section of your time since you’ve been here?” I was tempted to tell C that in the future he would be completely bald, but thought better of it.

  Instead, remembering the missing building I answered, “Section had a new building erected on the far side of the helicopter hanger: Area Two. It holds the vortex room and much of the vortex technology, and is, I mean, will be the highest security building in the compound.”

  “Correct,” said C. “Only Section Directorship and I knew we were planning another vortex room. Have you met any of them?”

  “Only Zee, Sir”

  John looked surprised. Evidently he didn’t know anything about Zee or the new building.

  C said, “Well Steve, we’d better get you back to your own time.”

  He pressed his intercom and spoke to one of the vortex staff, “Prepare the vortex interface for a small jump, we’ll give you the details when we get there.” C loosed the intercom button and spoke to John, “We’ll have to try to think of a plausible explanation for your disappearance and reappearance. The police mounted an extensive hunt for you; you were declared legally dead a couple of years ago.” As we walked to the vortex room he added, “It’s a good thing Maisie never remarried.”

  C continued, “Steve, I think it best that we send you directly into Section Headquarters. After all, we are sending you forward to a time where the earth is still populated, and we don’t want any civilians witnessing the vortex or your re-emergence into their time frame. This would contravene all temporal directives laid down by Section Directorship and I’m not prepared to do that. There can be no exceptions. I hope no one saw you two returning through the vortex earlier today.”

  “No, no one,” I assured him. “Commander, you can send me to the same coordinates, but you won’t find Section Headquarters at that location. Section was relocated … I don’t know where. We’re on high alert, so for security reasons all Section employees travel to and from work by vortex.”

  “Who decided that?”

  “You Commander.” C stopped walking and thought for a moment. We stopped too.

  As if suddenly gaining a revelation, John spoke up, “I think this would work. Steve, pass me that temporal transceiver device.” I unzipped my pocket and passed the devise to him. He eagerly removed the back saying, “Yes, yes, I can charge the plasma cells and reprogram this. Steve, you said that after you opened the vortex to send me home the devise sent out a temporal pulse, informing Section of your position and indicating that you were ready to return. They will have sent you a vortex but, of course, you weren’t there, you were stranded in this time.”

  “That’s right. Can you get it to send another pulse?” I asked.

  “Not exactly.” John answered. “Your Section will have sent out a signal, a type of temporal sweep, to search for you. If I can be precise I can send a similar signal forward through time. It will rebound off their signal giving me the exact location—place and time—of the Vortex Technology Centre. We can then open a vortex and send you back. I’ll just need the exact departure date and time of your last jump into the future so I can start the search from that point.”

  C said, “John, you’re a genius, get working on that straight away.”

  When we arrived in the vortex room the temporal transporter had fully booted up and the technician, a spotty chap in his early twenties, was awaiting the coordinates for the jump. C introduced him as Pete.

  When he saw me he looked intrigued.

  “Are you Steve Blakely?” I nodded. “I saw you and your mother at the eisteddfod last week; you were eleven years old.”

  “I remember.”

  “And now you’re my age, so you have to be from the future. How can this be? With the exception of return jumps, we haven’t been able to travel back in time yet. Every rule of quantum physics and entropy disallows us to reverse time, so how did you get here.”

  “There have been a few breakthroughs in time travel recently, but we still can’t travel back past Zero hour, you know, the point of the first ever jump,” I told him.

  John had been busily working on the temporal transceiver and had it ready to send a signal to search for the temporal sweep. He entered the date and time of my previous jump and linked the devise directly into the vortex interface. Within moments several terabytes of data were downloading into the temporal hard drive.

  “How important is it that I get you back to the exact date and time?” Pete asked, trying to process all the information.

  “Please try your best, I’m getting married the day after you send me back and I don’t want to miss my wedding.”

  “No pressure then,” he said, rechecking his calculations. “I don’t usually need to be so accurate.” He paused, and then looking pleased with himself said, “This has to be right; I’ve gone through it twice and come to the same answer.”

  “Or the same wrong answer,” I quipped nervously.

  A vortex began opening in front of me. Soon it was the correct size for the jump, but there was a problem. It wasn’t sparkling as brightly as usual, suggesting a power drain.

  “What’s wrong?” asked John and C in unison.

  “I’m not sure yet, I’m running a diagnostic,” Pete responded. “The fault’s not coming from our side. Section, that is, Section of the future is trying to block us.”

  C spoke to Pete, “Can you give me audio through the vortex?”

  “Working on that now Commander.”

  A faint conversation drifted back through time; my father was saying, “Commander, a vortex is opening.”

  “What, I didn’t order that. Block it and send a security team; I’m coming right over.”

  We all listened with interest, John and C realising they were listening to their future selves.

  C of the past said, “Give me visual.”

  “Yes Commander.” A picture of the future started to appear in the centre of the vortex, foggy at first, then with increasing clarity:

  I could see the older version of my father standing at the vortex controls in natural time. Curiously, he didn’t appear as old as he had when he had sent me through the vortex. This was proof that C’s skin regeneration treatment had worked.

  I heard him say, “I can’t block it much longer.” He paused as he examined the temporal readings. “Commander it’s one of ours and is originating from our previous Headquarters.”

  C appeared alongside him. “Then I can’t be Earthsong,” he said. Dad checked the temporal readings again, hardly believing what he saw.<
br />
  “No, it originates from the past, ten years, five months and twenty-two days ago.”

  “Ok,” said C, let it open.”

  Now unhindered, the vortex reached its optimum strength within moments. John hugged and wished me well in the future.

  C nodded and said, “Go on lad. You’ve got a planet full of humanity to save.”

  “Yes Commander,” I said, as I stepped out of the past and back into natural time.

  I turned and watched the vortex fade. Knowing the people standing on the other side—now ten years, five months and twenty-two days in my past—could see and hear me, I called through the vortex hoping my voice would carry back through time, “Look after Mum and Charlie,” but heard no reply. Within moments the vortex and the past were gone, sealed in time.

  Dad was very relieved to see me. Before I’d left to rescue him from the future he’d had the appearance of a man in his late seventies, but due to the injection John had given himself, and the skin regeneration technology C had mentioned, Dad now appeared twenty years younger.

  “Wow, what an adventure,” I exclaimed.

  “You don’t have to tell us, we can remember,” said C.

  “If you can remember what happened, and where I’d gone, why did you send the vortex?” I asked. “You would have known I wouldn’t be there; it’s all in your past after all.”

  Dad answered, “But then I couldn’t have used the temporal transceiver to locate the temporal sweep and find Section’s new headquarters.”

  Chapter 18

  Anna and I were married the next day. I stood at the front of the chapel watching her walk up the aisle towards me in a traditional white, silk dress and veil, the look completed by the white-gold tiara her grandmother, Glenys, had worn on her wedding day nearly sixty years before. Anna looked stunning.

  I know it’s a cliché to say this was the happiest day of my life, but it was: yet the day was also tinged with melancholy. Most young couples enter marriage imagining their lives panning out. They picture themselves raising children and growing old together, but knowledge of the future can bring sadness as well as joy. Anna and I knew something of the future: a future where we could only hope for a couple of years together at the most.