by Joel Adrian
The butterflies took to her stomach. Joey Del Core sounded like a bad type of person to mix into this operation.
Wayne noticed her expression. “Yeah, that’s how we all felt when his name hit Bravon’s desk. He’s not happy at all. Anywho, I’ll come get you when we need you, okay?”
She nodded, and Wayne Baron took his leave of her.
Emersyn ate quickly, stuffing the spoonfuls of eggs and pieces of imitation bacon into her mouth. It wasn’t anything like a home-cooked meal, but it held much more substance than the cheap, fast-food breakfast she’d eaten yesterday.
After eating her fill, she leaned back in her chair, a new swarm of worry taking over her mind. Catalina Hernandez sounded like a proper, reformed prisoner who should be on this mission. Joey Del Core sounded like a big-time mobster who pulled some strings to get himself attached to the mission.
She’d be worried he was going to attack them every moment.
You don’t know how this will play out, she reminded herself. The prisoners might not have guns or even weapons, and that reassured her.
She was hoping to see Mona again today. A series of questions crossed her mind, and though one-on-one time with herself was unlikely, she figured she could learn whatever she could in the limited amount of time they had together.
Picking up her phone, she checked her notifications. 22 missed texts from Ollie. She groaned. That boy just doesn’t know when to stop, she thought.
Without reading any of his texts, she opened a message to him and informed him she was working on something that was on a need-to-know basis and she would re-establish contact with him when she was done.
The text was cold, and she felt a pang of guilt for brushing him off. But everything going on at the base was more important, and she couldn’t lose sight of it for the same Ollie who’d refused to go out with her because it wasn’t a certain day of the week.
Emersyn debated texting her father. The two were growing further and further apart every year, down to a phone call a few times a year, and seeing one another for Thanksgiving and Christmas. He worked two jobs, and always told her he had to keep himself busy or he’d go mad. Even during holidays, she always got the feeling he’d rather be at work than spending the time with her.
She decided against sending him a text. It would only raise more questions, and from what Bravon Pearson had said, the quieter this was kept the better.
An hour later, Wayne Baron came for her. “They’re ready for you, child.”
She stood and followed the rotund man to the jeep outside. He drove her towards a large, central tent. It looked out of place amid all the buildings. Three other jeeps were parked outside the dark green canopy. Six soldiers, fully armored and armed with assault rifles, stood out front.
“Okay,” Wayne said as he brought the jeep to a stop next to the others. He turned to her and forced a smile. “Let’s go meet these prisoners, shall we?”
Chapter 4
Emersyn had never seen so many guards in a small space. At least two dozen soldiers, all armed with handguns, stood inside the tent. They were divided among the two prisoners, and the leftover guards stood at the front.
Sergeant Major Bravon Pearson stood behind a folding table to the immediate left. There were diagrams and papers strewn about, and six other men standing next to him. Emersyn couldn’t hear what he was saying, but by looking at what he was pointing at, they appeared to be mapping out the activation site.
“Well, this is where I leave you,” Wayne said. He frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a brave one for doing this. Lord knows I’d never be able to.”
She gave him a thankful smile, and he exited the tent.
“So, you must be the double, eh?”
Emersyn turned to see a soldier approaching her from behind. He was strikingly attractive, with bright hazel eyes and short blonde hair cropped at the sides. The man looked to be in his mid-30’s. He smiled, flashing a mouthful of shiny white teeth. He looked like a model from TV or a famous actor, not a down-and-dirty soldier.
It took Emersyn a moment to see his hand: she was too transfixed by his appearance. She glanced down and took it in a shake. She smiled weakly back at him but kept her eyes on his hand. “Emersyn.”
“Tanner Highwall. Specialist Tanner Highwall,” he said, emphasizing his rank. “No need to act like you’re not impressed. The ladies always are.”
She chuckled. He seemed brash, but she welcomed the off-putting humor. Everything had been so serious since she arrived.
“I hear we’ll be working together.” He pulled his hand back and nodded his head towards Sergeant Bravon Pearson. “Pops like me enough to let me tag along.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re going to be on the mission?”
“Damn skippy. Time travel and all that shit? I’d have signed up twice if they woulda let me. But then no-nonsense Naomi wouldn’t get to come.”
Emersyn shook her head, trying to follow what the cocky man was saying. “Sorry, no-nonsense what?”
He chortled. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you’re not from here. ‘No-nonsense Naomi,’ just a nickname I gave to Private First Class Naomi Sandovol.” He smiled when he said her name, flashing those perfect white teeth again. “I always give her shit. She’s too damn serious! Has a giant stick up her butt.”
“Excuse me, Specialist?”
They both turned to see a fit young African-American woman with her arms folded. She wore the same army fatigues as Tanner. Her hair was cut short and tied back. Her eyes were burning a piercing stare into the Specialist. “I don’t believe I heard you right.”
He quickly stood up straight and saluted her. “Ma’am.”
She stood still for a moment.
Emersyn exchanged a glance between the two, confused. Wasn’t a Specialist of a higher rank than a Private First Class?
After a moment, Tanner Highwall started busting up laughing. Naomi Sandovol turned her head and rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smile that was taking over her face.
“I can’t stand this boy.”
His eyes widened. “’Boy’? I’ve got at least ten years on you, Sandovol.”
She shoved past him playfully. “And we’re going into the future. You’re going to be a gray old man where we’re going.”
“I get more attractive with age!” he called after her as she walked towards a group of guards surrounding a prisoner.
Bravon Pearson approached Emersyn from the side. His eyes had heavy bags under them. It looked like the Sergeant hadn’t gotten any sleep. “I see you met my two hand-picked soldiers for this mission.”
“Fine soldiers,” she said with a smirk.
“They’ll get the job done. I wanted to meet with you last. I briefed my team on where we’re going and what to expect, but please, come over to my table. There’s some things I’d like to show you.”
Bravon led her back to the table set where she’d first seen him. There were new papers and documents strewn about the table. Emersyn glanced over a couple of them. They dealt with time travel theories, issues of paradoxes, and what looked like hand-scribbled notes.
The Sergeant picked the notes up and pointed to one of the documents titled ‘A Multiverse With Perspective.’
“So this is everything I took down across multiple interviews with Mona.” He shook the hand-scribbled paper. “And this is what our head scientists were able to theorize based off said notes.” He tapped a finger on the paper his other hand was on top of. “I won’t bore you, but from what she’s said, so far we’ve got confirmation that every time the Requiem gem is used, it confirms a new universe in existence.”
She studied the document. Most of it was gibberish to her. “How many universes are there, exactly?”
He bit his lip and considered his answer. “It’s . . . hard to say, for certain. From what Mona told us, we can only confirm a new universe or a new instance of a universe when the Requiem is used to go back in time and change events. Then that universe
plays out in a different fashion, forging its own way. The problem is in her universe, they didn’t use it for more than studies, so we don’t know how drastic of a change it makes. To answer you, she said in her timeline, the gem was used four times. There’s at least four other universes out there, five counting hers, and six counting ours.”
There’s six other Emersyn Mona Bergs out there, she thought. She sucked in a breath and reached a hand out to the table, steadying herself. “By going back to her time . . . looking for this evidence, are we ripping open a new one or returning to hers?”
He set the hand-written notes down and shook his head. “That’s tough to say. She said all the prior time travelers returned to her time with no problem. But she’s not a Requiem operator, she’s just a soldier. Mona said she saw someone do it once, she thinks she knows how to program it.”
Emersyn looked over the pile of notes. She reached down into them and pulled a folder from beneath the mountain of documents. It contained pictures of a large cavern, a pool of water growing as the floor dipped. Work lights had been set up around the perimeter.
“That’s the activation site,” Bravon noted. “We’ve had a dozen teams in and out of there over the last 48 hours.”
Emersyn eased herself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs surrounding the table. She studied the picture, but it only resembled a regular cave to her. She had no idea what the significance of it was. She let the photo drop to the table and turned to Bravon.
“Do we know why she came here? If there’s, what, four other universes, why not warn them?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. From what Mona told me, these time travelers are kept under scrutiny. She had no idea what those other universes are like; they could be in a state significantly worse than her own. Coming here, she knew she’d have something to work with at the very least because it established a new timeline.”
A soldier tapped Bravon on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. He acknowledged them and turned back to Emersyn. “Mona’s two minutes out. We’re going to get you, my soldiers, the prisoners, and her all at the front of the room while I lay out the mission. You’ll meet with everyone, and then tonight, we go.”
Emersyn swallowed hard. In less than a day, she’d either be in a universe separate from her own, or she’d be dead.
After Mona arrived, Emersyn was escorted to the front of the tent. There was a rising platform where Bravon Pearson stood. Guards were positioned at their front and back. She was situated next to Mona, who winked at her out of the corner of her eye.
Emersyn got her first good look at the two prisoners. Catalina Hernandez looked frailer than she’d anticipated: like a paranoid mouse, constantly on alert for an attack. She was smaller, with long black hair running down her back. Tattoos decorated both of her arms, almost covering them entirely.
Joey Del Core couldn’t have been more opposite. He was an older, obese man with a round face and multiple chins. His black hair was slicked back, and he wore a nasty expression that made him look like he’d hit anyone he didn’t like.
Sergeant Major Bravon Pearson took the stage and welcomed them all. He praised the scientists on the base and explained their plan. They’d fly to St. Charles, Idaho where Mona would lead them into the activation site and use the Requiem, in conjunction with the activator, to transition them back to just before the war during her time.
Once there, they’d do their best to blend in, take photos and videos of local news and reports, establish what the cause of war was within their allotted time, and what the state of Russia’s Prime Minister was. From there, they’d re-activate the Requiem, transport back with their findings, and if sufficient, President Warren would begin necessary negotiations and diplomacies to prevent the war from happening.
Bravon stepped down from the platform and motioned for all six of his crew to step forward. He glanced over each of them, keeping his expression plain.
“I know a lot of us haven’t worked together before, some of us aren’t soldiers, but we need to get along to make this happen. I need to know you will all follow my command above everything else. This is still a military operation. Is that clear?”
Everyone agreed, except Joey Del Core. He folded his tree trunk-like arms and frowned. “I’m jus’ doin’ this for the time off my bid. That offer still stands, yeah?” His Italian accent was unmistakable, as was the confidence in his voice.
Bravon clenched his hands. “Whatever offer our recruitment team made you stands, Mr. Del Core.”
Joey twisted his mouth into a sarcastic grin. “Capiche, then, boss. We’re a-okay.”
“Where’s the Requiem? And the activator?” Mona asked.
Bravon pointed at a guard behind them. “One of my transport guards has it stowed away in a briefcase. You’ll be given it at the activation site, and then we’ll begin.”
“It’s going to take at least ten minutes for me to get it set up and programmed. While we’re transitioning, I need absolute protection. If we’re attacked mid-transition, well, some bad things will happen.”
Catalina raised her hand. “Sergeant-man, you said we were goin’ to end up before this . . . apocalypse, right?” Catalina asked, extending a finger at Bravon. “Will we see ourselves?”
Mona squinted, her expression becoming downcast. “Well, you all shouldn’t. You weren’t anywhere near Idaho.”
“And you?” Emersyn asked, looking at her counterpart.
Mona turned to face Emersyn, forcing a smile. “Let’s just say I shouldn’t see myself . . . at any cost.”
“Are these prisoners going to be armed, sir?” Naomi asked. She glanced over the two convicts.
Bravon turned to face Catalina and Joey. “You two will be armed with batons and pistol that fire rubber bullets. You’re under no means necessary to fire these weapons, reveal them, or even acknowledge they exist unless you’re given a direct order from me. Understood?”
“Understood, Sergeant Commander,” Catalina said, her voice shaking.
“Yeah, yeah, guy.” Joey eyed Bravon, his expression not wavering.
Bravon let his stare linger on Joey for another few moments, then turned back to the rest of them. “This is not a mission we’re anticipating violence in. We’ll all have side-arms, except for Emersyn. Don’t reveal them, don’t acknowledge them. Our goal is to be in and out.”
The team of six was dismissed, and Emersyn felt disconnected from her body as she made her way back into the scorching heat. She’d felt determined like she needed to make the best of the situation when she arrived. Now, the familiar worry and uncertainty had taken hold again. She wasn’t sure if she could make it through this.
She leaned against the tent and lowered down, rest her hands on her thighs. She was okay with everything for a while, then a storm of shock and worry overcame her like a shotgun blast. It was a vicious cycle. Focusing was out of the question, despite how hard she tried to rid herself of the worry.
Emersyn turned and puked onto the ground.
She spat the taste out of her mouth, trying to rid herself of it. The acidic bile tainted her tongue, making her feel like she was going to get sick again.
A hand clamped down on Emersyn’s shoulder. She spun around. Mona stood behind her, biting her lip. “You alright there?”
Emersyn exhaled and closed her eyes. “Trying to be, anyway.” She noticed Mona wasn’t wearing any ankle or wrist restraints. “They letting you walk free now?”
Mona reached up and brushed a handful of black-gray hair from her face. “Your Sergeant Pearson and I get on pretty well. He convinced the president I wasn’t a threat, that I was here to help. Imagine that.”
Emersyn turned away from the pile of throw-up, the smell making her feel sick again. She started back into the tent, but Mona stuck an arm out and stopped her.
“Listen, ah, I know you’re not used to being a soldier, but we have to complete this mission, even if it means I don’t come back. Okay?”
Emersyn saw th
e concern on Mona’s face. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
Mona grimaced, her stare locked onto her younger self. She shook her head. “Please. I know deep down in there somewhere, you’re me. You have to see the bigger picture. If I don’t make it, it doesn’t matter. World’s gone to hell anyway. But you have to make it back here, you have to show them. Your word carries that weight because you’re me.”
“I won’t let you die.” Emersyn glanced over Mona and made her way back into the tent, trying to calm her anxieties.
Chapter 5
Night came quick. The crew showered, ate, and prepared themselves for the mission. Emersyn saw everyone reacting to the stipulations differently. Tanner seemed excited, Naomi couldn’t be more indifferent, Joey couldn’t care less, Mona and Catalina were anxious, and Bravon was quiet and confident, keeping to himself.
They were called to board the plane around 7 P.M. Emersyn had meant to text Ollie a more understandable response, but it’d slipped her mind during the day and she didn’t have time as the crew headed for the plane.
Bravon, Tanner, Naomi, and Mona were all dressed in fatigues. Joey and Catalina wore casual clothes. Emersyn had on a long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of jeans. She hoped they didn’t segregate them based on apparel: the two convicts weren’t the ideal partners.
Once they were all inside and strapped into their seats, the engines of the plane roared to life. Most everyone was quiet, save for Tanner cracking the occasional one-liner to try and lighten the mood. As much as she hated it, she laughed at a couple of them. It helped ease her into what was coming next.
One of the guards on the ship came around offering sedatives for the plane journey. Nearly everyone took one, except for Mona and Emersyn.
“Some things don’t change,” Emersyn noted.
Mona cracked a smile. “Just sick of sleeping. It’s the same thing I’ve been doing for almost all my time at that base.”