by Lilly Mance
“Well, I’m listening to yours.”
His eyes sparkled, and a huge grin covered his face. “My wife,” he whispered, barely audible, grinning ear to ear.
I felt my cheeks flush, and my heart skipped a beat, so I quickly moved our conversation forward, “Could it be that both sides are like cults––deluded with dogma, forgetting common sense?”
“That's what I realized last night. But,” he came around the table next to me, cupping my face, “They are highly intelligent, informed, and skilled. And that makes them dangerous,” his gaze was serious, sending a shudder down my spine. I wasn’t into dangerous and scary stuff.
“Then we'll have to be smart about it,” I said, locking my arms around his waist. “No memory sharing with Zoe,” I chuckled, nervously.
“Actually,” Zack flashed a wry smile, “That could be our secret weapon.”
“How?” I tilted my head, looking up at him.
“I have a trick to share what I want,” he said, mysteriously smiling.
“I know,” I giggled, “And so does Zoe. She told me about it.”
“Yeah, but she knows you can't,” his eyes widened, brows shot up. “No-one else can. It's my specialty!”
“How does that help us? She’ll see in mine what you omit.”
“What she doesn't know is that it can be taught,” he chuckled, winking.
“Oh,” I chuckled, as well. “So, you'll teach me, and she'll trust my memories thinking they couldn't be tampered with?”
“Exactly,” a devilish smile crossed his face. He kissed me softly, “Now eat. You have a letter to write,” he winked, and crossed back to his side of the table.
“What? This is food?” I looked at him in disgust. A square of unrecognizable something was in my plate.
“Yes,” he chuckled, “It's all nutrients, no waste. Try it. It doesn't taste bad.”
“It looks like a sponge,” I frowned looking at the alien in my plate.
Zack laughed, shaking his head. He took a bite of his sponge, then said, “You'll get used to it.”
“I doubt it. Don't you have real food?” I sliced a piece of my sponge, carefully bringing it closer to my mouth, sniffing it first.
“We grow fruits and veggies in our greenhouses. But it's for personal indulgence, not sustenance,” he said, looking quite amused by my facial expression.
I took a bite, pleasantly surprised by the taste. It was sweet and melted inside my mouth. I expected it to be more sponge-like, and hard to chew, not disappear like cotton candy. “It's not bad,” I said, “I'm afraid to ask what's for lunch.”
Zack choked, then sputtered, “A bigger sponge.” My mouth dropped causing another wave of laughter from him. “You see that piece of appliance behind my back?” He motioned toward something I previously thought was a stove.
“Yes.”
“We use that to make all meals. Just enter the amount of nutrients you need, and it comes out as a sponge,” he emphasized the word sponge, obviously amused by the term I used for it.
“How will I know how much goes into what?”
“I pre-programmed it, so you can choose breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the menu,” he was done with his sponge, so he stood up, and took his plate to the sink.
~*~
Chapter #25
“Appear weak when you are strong,
and strong when you are weak.”
–– Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Staring at the blank piece of paper, I wondered how to begin. What do I tell them? I'm leaving you forever, but don't worry, I have great sponges for lunch? I sighed out of desperation, twirling a pen in my hand. How do I tell them everything in a way that it doesn't sound crazy, and that it gives them some comfort?
“Dear Mom and Dad,” I scribbled, and then my mind went back to blank. I sighed again, lowering my forehead on the table. This was harder than I thought it would be. I glanced sideways, eying a pile of papers. Zack went through a lot of trouble to get them. Paper wasn't that common in his time, but...What the heck, I thought, I’ll go with whatever comes to mind first, and throw away if it sucks. I closed my eyes, and imagined talking to my parents face to face, and then started writing what I’d say:
I love you, and I hope you’ll understand. I’m not dead, nor am I missing. I live in the FUTURE, a hundred years from now, with my husband, and I will never age. A husband. Writing that word felt strange, but good. My eyes wandered off toward Zack. Peacefully slanted in a chair, he was going through some notes. He must have felt my gaze, because his eyes picked up, and he flashed a big smile. Yap! My wonderful husband. I felt warmth fill my chest, and went back to my letter.
I know how it sounds, but this letter is all I can give you, and I’m breaking a whole set of rules by writing it, so I’m trying to keep it concise.
I want you to know that I’m happy, and I hope that you’ll have an open mind about this. I’ve included several pictures of me in the future so you’d know it’s true. If you can keep this a secret, I might be able to sneak a couple of more letters over time.
I wanted to tell you the truth at the airport, but as you can see, the truth isn’t that simple to tell. I had to choose between you and my soul mate. By now, my choice is obvious, but I want you to know that I didn’t come to this decision easily or quickly. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. If he weren’t from the future, it wouldn’t have come to this. I hope you’ll understand that I couldn’t handle losing him, and this is my attempt of not losing you either.
I love you and miss you terribly,
Lyra
I lowered the pen and read the letter. It was good enough. I spun in my chair, and smiled at Zack, waving the letter.
“Done?” He asked, half grinning. I nodded, biting my lip. “Will you hold it up so I can take a picture of you with it?” He pulled out the tiniest camera I’ve ever seen. Ridiculously small.
“Sure,” I grinned wide. Zack came closer, taking a macro-shot of the letter and me. I hoped that my happiness at that moment would somehow be visible on that picture.
The rest of the morning, we kept snapping pictures of me next to things that would blow my parents’ minds. Heck, some of those things blew my mind, as well. We had one chance to make them believe, so I reached for another mini camera on the table, and took a shot of my lunch, planning to write “Can you believe they call this lunch here?” on it. That should give it a splash of my personality they too knew well—whining over food.
Zack chuckled, shaking his head.
“What?” I looked at him sideways, timidly smiling.
“You really hate the sponge that much?” He asked, grinning over my lunch photo session.
“No,” I giggled, feeling my cheeks getting warmer. I leaned forward to take another shot of my plate. At that second, Zack snapped a picture of me taking a picture of my plate.
“If that doesn’t prove that you’re not forced to live here,” he chuckled, “I don’t know what will.”
~*~
Zack explained that he would deliver the letter to my parents, because my emotions would cause too much disturbance in the field, possibly revealing what we were doing to both sides in the war. I knew he was right, but I wanted to see my parents one more time, so he promised to share his memories upon return.
“It will be a good practice at omitting memories, as well,” he said, tucking my letter in his back pocket. “Here we go. The army of two,” he smiled, cupping my cheeks. I stared at his gleaming eyes, adoring the way he looked at me as if I were his most precious belonging. His lashes swept down as he kissed me, and then disappeared from my view.
Feeling kind of empty, I spun on my heels, and started toward the window. Taking a deep breath, I crossed my fingers, praying my parents would believe us.
“Ly,” Zack said behind my back, startling the ghost out of me.
“Geez! You spooked my knickers off,” I sputtered, panting. “I'll never get used to this time travel instant returns.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Wanna see?” Grinning, he took a step toward me.
“They believed us?” I gaped, and then jumped into his embrace, locking my legs around him.
“You bet,” he spun me in his arms. “You must have never lied to them before. They had no doubt that it was true.”
“I can't say never, but mostly I told them the truth,” wide grin was plastered to my face.
“Without further delay,” Zack said, and then sent his memories through his bracelet.
My face turned into gooey as soon as my parents' faces hit my view. Seeing Mom and Dad crying while reading my letter, I felt as if an iron fist had grabbed my chest, but then I realized those were tears of joy. They were actually happy for me! Smiling through tears, they flipped through our photos, commenting on each one. Dad wrapped his arm around Mom, kissing the top of her head. When it was over, I glanced at Zack. He was gazing at me with so much love.
“Thank you,” I entered his embrace, sealing our lips together. There wasn't a more perfect moment than that. I felt fulfilled. Everything fell into its place.
“Come,” Zack threaded his fingers through mine. “We've got to practice. Zoe might call us for a mission any moment now. I'd hate to explain why I took her code out of our security system.”
Reality slapped my face. Mere mention of Zoe's name sent unease straight to my stomach. “What code and what system?”
“Our home, my beautiful wife,” he locked his arms around me while my heart did a couple of three-sixties, “Is surrounded by an invisible force field to keep snooping time travelers out. Only those whose code is in our database may come through.”
“Oh,” I giggled, “I was wondering why Ethan hasn't dropped by.”
Zack laughed wholeheartedly, “I took them all off,” he flashed a mischievous grin. “I have to put them back, though. A day of privacy is understandable, but anything more than that might raise suspicion.”
It took me a couple of hours of non-stop practice before I managed to omit a single piece of my memory. Unlike me, Zack was pretty patient about it. His cool and steady voice guided me through a complicated neuro-labyrinth of my brain. At moments, I wondered whether he knew my brain better than I did. Later, though, I was certain he did. Before Zack, I never knew my neurons could be programmed to do anything, let alone put a permanent omission to a memory for others without losing access to it myself. It put a whole other perspective on amnesia.
Getting that small piece of memory omitted was the hardest part, but once I got the hang of it, the rest ran smoothly. It was as if my brain just needed to be shown how, and then it knew what to do. By the end of the day, I sent my memories to Zack like a pro.
“One last thing,” Zack looked at me, biting his lip. “You can't omit any private moments we share.”
“Whoa,” I sputtered. “That's not fair!”
“It’s not,” he chuckled, “But to keep it credible, you have to let it all in.”
“I get that, but I don't have to like it,” I pursed my lips into a pout.
Zack leaned in and gently bit my pursed lip, “I don't like it either,” he murmured against my lips. Suggestively, I pushed closer into him, but he stopped me by saying, “We've got some other things to do first.”
“Like what?” My pout was back in place.
“Did you see those lockers in Zoe's office?”
“Those things that look like safety deposit boxes?”
He nodded.
“Mhm,” I confirmed.
“That's where all our memories are kept. From all time travelers ever,” Zack's eyes twinkled.
“I thought everything was in Zoe's head,” I chuckled.
“It's a big head, but not that big,” we both burst out laughing. “Anyway––” He paused, nibbling his lower lip.
“Yeah?”
“We have to hack them.”
“We what?!” I gazed at him, incredulously. Was he out of his mind? “Do I look like a hacker to you? A-a,” I shook my head.
“We have to, Ly. It's the only way to get to the truth,” he stopped my shaking head by cupping my face.
“It's a way to Zoe's shit list! That's what it is,” I sent him a glare. “We'll get caught.”
“No we won't,” he faked a self-assured smile, but that didn't reassure me at all.
“Do you have a trick for that, as well?”
“Nope. But we'll make a plan that will ensure we don't get caught,” his smile turned into a crooked one.
“Before I lose my mind, as well,” I strode off, gazing out the window toward nighttime city skyline. “What do you know about time ending? What's the official story?”
“Right! We never did cover that, did we?”
“Not that I know of,” I said without turning around.
“We usually get to that part later, after new recruits understand more about the nature of time and space.”
“I think I know enough by now to get to that step,” I replied, turning slowly to face him.
“You sure do,” he smiled. “After the originals invented time travel, they were keen on fixing things to make a better world. At first, it was the little things. Some historical mistakes that resulted in a loss of life were the first to get fixed. When they saw it had worked, the originals took on bigger tasks to fix, each time going further back into history. What they didn't understand is that history has a way of readjusting itself.”
“Readjusting?” I repeated, scratching my chin.
“Mhm. Those lives they saved by fixing history ended up dead in some other events later on, and with some new casualties. When they discovered some of them, they tried to correct them, as well. They didn't understand that those weren't new events, but rather history keeping a score, and adding a penalty to it. That resulted in a complex domino effect with more and more casualties.”
“How come they didn't notice?”
“Those things are subtle and not easily noticeable. The adjustment doesn't happen immediately. They were so wrapped up in doing good, and then the end came as the sum of all changes, wiping them out of existence.”
“Dammit,” I breathed.
“After they perished, the ones that were still alive studied all data in depth, and noticed that history had that effect. All of this was a process of trial and error until we learned the laws, or the rules of engagement if you will. Luckily, the originals were smart, and knew that recorded history would only have the latest version, so they founded a memory bank before they changed anything.”
“Can anyone access that memory bank?”
“No. Only Zoe from TGA and Harold from Elders can.”
“Why? If it's all true, why wouldn't everyone be allowed to see it?”
“That's what I thought, and why I want to hack it. After we broke into two factions, and Zoe and Harold put a lock on it, the rest of us that were recruited later were told that they couldn't risk losing the only copy of real history to some unforeseen error. Knowing how fragile those chips are, no-one doubted that explanation.”
“Do you think they are hiding something?” I held my breath.
“Not sure. I have this nagging feeling. We've been fighting this war for so long, and nothing ever changes. It's a never-ending ping-pong. There must be something,” his face was worried.
“And if there isn't?”
“No harm done,” he flashed a brief smile, then glanced down, and started jerking a zipper on his cargos.
“Are we getting Ethan and Sophie into this?”
Zack's eyes shot up. He pondered that idea for a moment and then replied, “I'd rather not.”
“Let's say I'm crazy enough to go along with this,” I said. Zack's lip curved to the side. “We know nothing about hacking. How do we do it?”
“I didn't mean it literally,” he chuckled. “We should get access to those memories, is all.”
“And how do we do that? Chop Zoe's head off?”
“No,” he laughed, “But I like the way your mind works,” he
winked. I frowned, so he ditched the grin, and said, “I'll do some snooping around, and see how we can get her access code.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“For now, omit this conversation,” he kissed my forehead, and I did as he asked.
~*~
Chapter #26
“All war is deception.”
–– Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Zack did some digging and snooping around, while I did my best to keep cool, and act normal. We met with Sophie and Ethan almost every day, and it was nearly impossible to keep it from them. Luckily, we were the unbreakables, so they thought our weird looks and occasional double-meaning conversations were a part of that.
While waiting to be called on a mission, our everyday routine was checking the frequency field for any disturbances. Feeling like Yoda, I kept cracking jokes about the force, but they all fell short. Only Zack knew that it was my sloppy way of coping with what a disturbance would mean—a fifty-fifty chance that he would be erased from existence—so he did his best to show support.
Zack returned all access codes to our home's security grid, but he put an additional reinforcement around the bathroom attached to our room so no-one besides us could enter. Naturally, Zoe asked him about that, so he told her it was temporary until I got used to showering without protection. Strangely, she bought it. Or at least she acted as if she did. We didn't care as long as we had a safe room where we could have all our confidential conversations. However, she did ask for my memories more frequently under the guise of monitoring my adjustment to the new environment since I was so shy and fragile, as she put it.
The first memory transfer to her was a mortifying event. My palms were clammy, beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, and my heart threatened to give me a coronary, but after she seemed satisfied, I relaxed and trusted the process completely. She was no fool, though. There was no room for error.
~*~