by Julie Cross
I walked over to the cabinet and opened the metal door, eyeing rows and rows of medical supplies and pills. An entire shelf was filled with unopened bags of B-29 supplements identical to the one in my hand. “Do you not have access to B-29 here?”
Grayson glanced at me through his safety goggles. “Actually, B-29 hasn’t been discovered yet. Not until 2048. And won’t be widely used for another fifteen years after that.”
I had learned about the necessity of B-29 in health education in school but hadn’t known it was a more recent discovery. In my present, it was received as a vaccine once a year on the first day of school. I knew B-29 was an emotion regulator, but I had never thought about what would happen if people went without it, since it works to keep the mind focused on calm, rational thoughts and actions. Not that anger, fear, and sadness no longer exist. I’ve definitely experienced my share of fear and anger growing up with three older brothers. But was the lack of B-29 in 1987 the reason for the noise and chaos in the world? Did quiet places exist outside New York City?
“So, do you give them to people here?”
Grayson shook his head. “No, we don’t tamper with the past unnecessarily.”
“Right.” I swung my arms back and forth, not sure how to maintain a conversation with this much older time traveler and not sound like an immature child. I’d rather he think I was mature and responsible, following orders the United States military had given me. “Um, Dr. Ludwig said not to come back right away. Since I’m alone this time. My mind needs rest.”
Grayson’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yes, it’s very risky, indeed, that long a jump.” He pulled out a stool and pointed at it, indicating I should sit, which I did right away. “Let’s give you a quick check, all right?”
I nodded and allowed him to shine a light in my eyes, listen to my heart, and measure my pulse. Grayson seemed very different than the others I’d come to know. He seemed more expressive and full of secrets that he couldn’t hide completely. Somehow this made me feel calm and secure, probably because a lot of times I felt the same way. Like I couldn’t keep my feelings from showing on my face. That’s probably what delayed Dr. Ludwig from letting me jump on my own. He could tell I was scared to try even if I didn’t say it out loud.
“I think about two or three hours’ recovery time will be just fine,” Grayson finally said after his thorough exam. “Probably best if you hang out here, stay out of trouble.”
“Sure.”
He pulled up another stool and sat across from me. “Tell me about your family. How are they handling things so far?”
“I haven’t really talked to them much,” I admitted. “My mother called on my birthday. Thomas said I wouldn’t be able to go back home, too much of a security risk, I guess, and it would be easier if I just let them go.”
“Easier for whom?” Grayson asked, then shook his head. “He’s partially correct. Since your identity and ability have been revealed worldwide, there are all kinds of possible terrorist threats, and targeting your family, who aren’t as well protected as you are, is a definite concern.”
I looked down at my hands, trying to hide any fear. “That’s what President Healy said, too.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Three older brothers. I’m the baby of the family.”
He smiled. “What are they like? Do you get along?”
I spent three hours talking to Grayson about everything from my oldest brother’s new wife and daughter to the girls at my old school and my mother’s inability to remember which kid was named what whenever she got angry with us. He said that parents had very similar experiences in 1987 and that increased brainpower and technology over time wouldn’t change family dynamics. Some things were just human nature.
It made me miss them all over again, and after returning to the present, I decided to contact my oldest brother, Henry. Seeing my little niece toddling around on the screen after all these months had passed caused me to feel sadder than I have since I first left home last December.
* * *
“So what’s the deal with this B-29 stuff?” Holly asked before I had a chance to.
We had also listened to and read the text of the memory files Blake showed me yesterday for Holly’s benefit.
“It’s not what you think,” Blake said. “Honestly, I think it’s probably a very useful and important supplement. What you guys have to realize is that the world I lived in, before everything started changing, before Project Eyewall, was a really great place. I’ve spent a lot of time in your present and I can make an accurate comparison. The future was a better place to be than the past. The forward motion was mostly positive, as it had been in the history you two probably studied in school.”
I leaned against the wall, watching Holly twist back and forth in the only chair in the room. “But what changed for you? And what kind of forward progress happens between my present and yours? I know the Tempus gene evolves and people become smarter, a few time travelers appear, but what else?” Holly asked.
Blake folded his arms across his chest, his forehead wrinkling like he was deep in thought. “Well, there’s a broader acceptance of differences—race, religion, politics, sexuality.” Blake’s eyebrows shot up and he returned his hands to the control panel. I noticed pink creeping up his neck toward his face and wondered what kind of filed-away memory would cause him to turn red like that. “There’s also the Plague of 2600. It was a dark time but the government did what they had to for humanity to survive. Basically, there was a very deadly disease spread by skin-to-skin human contact. For nearly thirty years we fought it, and the population of the United States decreased by half.”
“By half?” Holly and I said together.
“Yes. It was devastating. Many people covered their hands and faces at all times. Reproduction happened in a lab for most families. And while the government worked to come up with a vaccine, they offered drugs that blocked certain responses in the brain such as … libido,” he finally said, and I had to assume that was the reason for the red face. “Nothing was mandatory, it’s just people were panicking and there was no vaccine. They had to do something. Of course, there were the rebels who were against people taking the inhibitors. They called it mind control, but no one wanted to control people, it was the disease that needed controlling. Anyway, they finally managed to produce a working vaccine, lifted all the warnings, and no longer coordinated couples genetically based on their immunities to the disease.”
“Wait,” Holly interrupted. “They coordinated people? That seems really weird and very communist or something.”
“Like I said, it was a desperate time,” Blake answered with a shrug. “And the government went into huge debt over developing the coordination system and funding all the fertility labs. They couldn’t wait to get rid of it. They even had to borrow money from China.”
This was like the most interesting history (or future, I guess) lesson I’d ever heard. What would people in 1900 have thought of everything that happened between then and my present? I bet it would seem just as crazy.
“So it didn’t spread worldwide?” I asked.
Blake shook his head. “Nope. As soon as they discovered the transmission, there was no foreign travel allowed. No crossing borders. Nothing. And even though the government went to great lengths to encourage people to live and take risks once the vaccination program had been implemented nationwide, people were still conservative, kept all the same precautions for a long time. Once you see a loved one’s skin rot and fall off in a three-day period, it’s hard to shake those habits. So, even in my time, some of that still lingered just a little, and that’s the reason certain items legal for consumption in your present had been outlawed for decades in my present. Which you’ll see in this next entry.”
AUGUST 15, 2874.
MEMORY EXTRACTED FROM HOST.
“I have big news for you,” Thomas said, entering our apartment, Jean and Nora trailing behind him.
He went on t
o talk about the big committee meeting that afternoon with Dr. Ludwig and several other scientists and government officials and they all determined that I was now allowed one personal time jump per week. There are virtually no limitations on when and where I can explore, just no major alterations without clearing them first. I can use the time to study the past—science and history, anthropology—anything to gain cultural experience and knowledge that will help me blend in with different time periods when I’m on a mission.
It’s a big deal. A huge privilege. I know that, but it’s hard for me to be excited about gaining permission to go back in time and observe strangers in a period that isn’t my own, when I still have this constant ache to go home. To visit people I know and love. I’ve been down ever since I called Henry. Dr. Ludwig must have been able to tell because he increased my B-29 injections to four a year rather than the standard one every twelve months. Maybe Thomas was right. It would have been easier if I had just left it alone.
And I can’t help wondering if this additional freedom I gained today was based more on my lackluster performance and effort lately than on real merit.
“This is so exciting!” Jean said.
For once, I actually managed to meet her eyes, though only for a few seconds, without feeling my face flush.
“You deserve a little fun and freedom,” Nora said.
Somehow, after talking for a few minutes, Nora and Thomas ended up leaving me alone in my apartment with Jean, who produced a bottle of what she called wine from a bag I hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding.
“To celebrate,” she said with a grin. “I got it from 2014. Think it has a long shelf life?”
It was a poor attempt at a time-travel joke, but I laughed anyway because it was, well, Jean. Beautiful Jean.
She used some strange mechanical device to remove the stopper in the bottle and then poured two full glasses.
I took a long sip. It tasted like fruit and water and another flavor that was completely new to me. After several more swallows, it became more than a taste—a dozen emotions, a song I couldn’t recall, something strong and soft all at the same time.
“Good, huh?” Jean said.
“Yeah.” I glanced down at the dark purple liquid sloshing around the sides of the glass. “Why would they stop making this? It’s amazing.”
She shrugged. “I have no idea, but I do know what my next research project will be. During my allotted free time.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
In no time at all, Jean and I had finished the entire bottle and were now seated on the couch, searching my handheld for any information we could find on the history of wine.
For some reason, after sharing the beverage with Jean, I didn’t feel nervous sitting so close to her, laughing and talking almost as easily as I had that day with Grayson. And it wasn’t just emotionally altering. Physically, my limbs almost felt detached from my body or like my bones had thinned and suddenly become more agile, increasing their range of motion. My eyes had trouble focusing on the screen held between me and Jean, but I didn’t really mind the blurriness at all. I didn’t really mind anything. And I didn’t feel sad.
Jean glanced up at me for a split second, those green eyes shining with all kinds of hidden secrets. “I think I might understand now why wine is unavailable in 2874.”
“Uh, me, too.” Then both of us started laughing so hard that my handheld dropped to the floor and my fingers were suddenly free to touch Jean’s bright red hair. Something I’d thought entirely too much about in the past eight months. “It’s so … orangey,” I mumbled.
“And yet they still call it red,” Jean said, laughing some more. “And orangey isn’t a word.”
“It is now. I’ve just named your hair. It’s orangey.”
She reached up and gently weaved her fingers in my hair, sending a jolt through my entire body. “Then we’ll call yours sandy. Have you seen the beach before?”
“I lived near the beach,” I said, feeling the tiniest pang of longing—for home, for summers on the beach. My hands were moving on their own, traveling across her cheek, tracing the outline of her jaw and chin. “I saw someone do this once, in a jump with Thomas a couple months ago, this guy and girl sitting on a bench, right near the street, with all the chaos surrounding them. I think I get it now. Touching is human nature.”
Jean clapped a hand over my mouth, her eyes suddenly turning dark. “Don’t let them hear you talk like that. Ever.”
I dropped my hand to my lap. “Like what? It’s not going to kill either of us. This isn’t 2600. We’ve been vaccinated.”
“I know but it sounds like Grayson,” she said. “He got so caught up in, well, I don’t know what exactly, but I’ve read his old reports. His philosophies on human nature and the lack of influence from technology are so different from everything Dr. Ludwig preaches. Dr. Ludwig’s goal is to control the future by altering the past based on what we learn over time. It’s smart when you think about it, really. Why shouldn’t we learn from our past mistakes? Why shouldn’t we strive for a better world for the next generation if our abilities make this possible? It’s not like man manufactured time travelers. We’re made this way for a reason.”
I agreed with Jean, I truly did. But at the moment, I didn’t want to talk about the bigger picture or the world beyond our time. I just wanted her to understand what I had felt only seconds ago. There was no fact to dispute it. It just was. I took her hands and placed them on my face, moving them slowly down toward my neck. She stopped talking and drew in a sudden breath, unable to exhale.
“See?” I said.
Until this very moment, I’d never touched anyone unless it was necessary—a planned gesture to display emotion or kindness. That was how everyone was, except for that guy and girl I’d seen in the past. And except for my parents, who I’d seen on a rare occasion unconsciously seeking out contact with the other. This, tonight, it didn’t feel like a plan. It felt more like a desperate need, or a want. I couldn’t tell the difference and somewhere in the back of mind, I knew that there was probably a big difference between the two emotions—need and want.
And yet I didn’t care in the least.
I leaned into Jean and felt the heat of her surrounding me. And then my mouth was on hers … kissing … the most effective way to spread communicable diseases. Logic was losing big-time.
All four of our hands suddenly sought out more skin to touch—bare necks, under our shirts. Eventually it became apparent how much easier it would be to just throw them on the floor.
“Open your mouth,” she whispered after the shirts hit the floor and I kissed her for the hundredth time. “I saw this once…”
* * *
Blake hit the button to stop the recording and his face was bright red again. He kept his eyes on the control panel, and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t realize how much detail was inserted into my memory file.”
I glanced at Holly, who looked wide-eyed, but not a trace of the blushing that had infested Blake was on her face. My Holly would have been at least a little bit pink out of sympathy for Blake. Agent Holly seemed to have every emotion under control.
“Okay, so you were drunk,” she summarized. “And people in your present don’t get drunk or kiss, apparently.”
“They do kiss and everything else,” Blake said, finally looking at us. “It’s not usually so impulsive, more careful and planned. You get checked for immunities and cleared by a physician first. That’s how I was raised, anyway, and it’s all I knew. It could be different for some people in my present. I’m not really sure. Obviously, it was the same for Jean, too.”
“If you know all about the Plague of 2600,” I asked, “then why didn’t any of you go back to 2600 and give the government the secret formula for the vaccine or whatever?”
Blake sighed. “The division of government that supervised us wouldn’t allow any jumps to the plague period. It was off-limits. I think they were convinced that it would change too much
about the future, that the world would have been overpopulated and too fearless.”
“But they could go around altering people’s genetics?” Holly said. “I think we need to hear the rest of this one. Hit that button or I will.”
Blake eyed Holly’s gun tucked in the side of her jeans and then sighed before starting up both the audio and visual replay.
I did open my mouth, but more to reply than because I wanted to figure out what she was going to do. Her tongue carefully slipped into my mouth and I froze, not sure what came next. She closed her mouth again and started kissing things that weren’t my lips—cheeks, neck, collarbone. Then she grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast. I became so lost in feeling this whole new type of skin, I didn’t even notice the door open.
“Jean!” Nora said. “Blake! What are you…?”
We both jumped apart, reaching for our wrinkled shirts on the floor and banging our heads together in the process. Once my shirt was safely returned to its original spot, I glanced at Thomas, standing behind Nora. His expression was completely unreadable. But at least he didn’t look shocked or angry.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said to Jean.
Jean’s cheeks were flushed to a beautiful rosy color that clashed with her hair. My eyes bounced between the two of them, trying to understand Thomas’s words.
He just shrugged and picked up the empty bottle on the counter, holding it for Nora to see. “Dr. Ludwig wouldn’t exactly be disappointed if two of his beloved time travelers were caught reproducing.”
“Reproducing?” Jean and I said together.
Then I moved to the opposite end of the couch.
Creating offspring wasn’t exactly on my evening to-do list. Although I knew how it worked. Why couldn’t I have seen that was where we were headed a few minutes ago? I just didn’t think about it. I was too absorbed in the moment.
“He’s sixteen,” Nora said to Thomas under her breath. “He can’t do that yet.”
“Apparently he can,” Thomas said, shrugging again.