A Long Time Until Now

by Michael Z. Williamson

  The doctor looked troubled.

  “Very well, as you wish. Is there anything else you would like addressed?”

  “My knees, ankles and wrists still hurt from old injuries, and I have trauma to the sole of my right foot recently.”

  “Were there fractures?”

  “One wrist, one ankle. The rest was lots of soft tissue and compressional damage and a puncture wound.”

  “What about your teeth?”

  “If I have any cavities, please fix them.”

  Just like that. Like ordering food. One knee job, a tooth fix, and a side of thyroid repair, please, extra large.

  “You have respectable teeth, under the circumstances, but there are old repairs. We can regeneratively restore those, too.”

  Uh . . . She said, “That will affect how we are identified back home.”

  “Your commander says fingerprints and DNA will be sufficient. If you’d like us to, we can.”

  She could ask him easily, but there was no reason they’d lie about it.

  She asked, “Can you fix any cavities to resemble the original ones?”

  “We could, but it’s easier and better to regenerate them.”

  “If Captain Elliott approves, then I’ll take it. Thank you.” She was placing a lot of trust in him, and them, but he’d brought them this far.

  The doctor held up a glass.

  “This is your medication. Drink it.” It wasn’t much of a bedside manner.

  “That’s it?”

  “Your fallibilities are easily addressed. That will cause regeneration of the tissue.”

  She sipped it. It tasted like strawberry juice. She drank it in two mouthfuls. She crushed the cup and it disappeared in dust.

  “You should notice the tooth fillings falling loose over the next two days or so. The other problems will be less noticeable until they’re gone.”

  “Thank you very much,” she said.

  “You’re welcome, Gina. You can send the next person.”

  It was just like an Army processing line. In, out, next troop, hurry up and wait.

  Some things never changed.

  Sean Elliott didn’t feel much different after the medical treatment, though the two fillings he’d had were crumbling out, and there was new enamel under them.

  Spencer and Alexander seemed bouncy.

  “I don’t hurt!” she said. “My knees and ankles bend without grinding. There’s no pins and needles in my wrists.” She squatted, bent, shimmied upright with a nice jiggle.

  “I’m alert, and I can remember things,” she said.

  Then she added, “Some things. I still have gaps.”

  “Great to hear,” he said. They’d fixed the aftereffects of an aircraft crash. In minutes. How long did they live here? If Alexander was forty-four and looked thirty, how old were some of the Cogi?

  Twine was dressed in a leotard over tights this morning. Her makeup and hair were blue to match. Her hair was swept up and back. Against her skin it was striking, almost like an anime character.

  “Good morning, Captain,” she said.

  “Good morning, Ms. Twine.” She was being formal, so he was. It varied day to day.

  “We are to meet with what you would probably call a committee, regarding your return. Can you speak for all your soldiers?”

  “That depends on the subject, but I believe I can for what’s involved.”

  Goddamn. Could they be . . . ?

  “Please come with me then.”

  She explained as they walked. She was tall, strode quickly, and he had a view of her amazing ass. He brought his eyes up to her shoulders and watched those muscles roll instead. Wow.

  “They’ve seen all your briefing information,” she said. “They may have a few additional questions. Be honest. ‘I do not have that information’ is a very good answer to give, if you don’t have the information. These are as much scientists as politicians. Consulting experts.”

  “So they’ll talk to the leadership?”

  “For these matters they are the leadership. They’ll take input from elsewhere as well, but they will decide.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  It was nothing like he expected.

  They walked into another domelike room, a bit like a planetarium. It was half-lit, with seats around the arc but not in rows. Some were higher than others, and he saw one of them change locations.

  “Welcome, Captain Elliott,” someone said. “Is that pronunci correct?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “Great. Grab some food or what have you.”

  “Strawberry juice will be fine, thank you very much.”

  “Riz.”

  A glass appeared, held by some kind of serving machine.

  A screen in front of him showed faces and names. It slid down and to the left and poised there, easy to see, but not intrusive. There were sixteen people here, nine males, five females, two he wasn’t sure about.

  Someone else said, “Dokey, so translost to Paleolithic, two years subjective. Arnet and Cryder recovery brought you and displacees here, crave to go home. Substantially correct?”

  That was a quick summary.

  “Yes, ma’am, we’d like to go home.”

  “Social vs practical. Comprend.”

  Another said, “Era still subject to strong familial emotional ties. Fascinating, but respectable.”

  “Compassion for feelings, pers. Comprend vs symp.”

  “Wooz.”

  The first inquisitor said, “Appears minimal present contact. Well done. Observed tech within base for past-contemp spec. No risk. Approve.”

  “Approve.” “Approve.” “Well done, Prof Twine. Approve.”

  He heard her reply, “Tank, graz.”

  “Spec on further temporal flashout?”

  “Unknowable.”

  “Opinion?”

  “Shielding upgrade. Threat issue—”

  Audio went silent. He could see them talking and addressing each other, but he heard nothing. Apparently he wasn’t cleared for this part.

  Audio came back with someone saying, “Risk feasible. Compassionate flashout.”

  “Public react?”

  “Nah, do it.”

  “Go.”

  “Reasonable permit survive, simplest. No sido.”

  “Captain, do you have any add comment?”

  He took a deep breath, and said, “Sirs, ma’ams, we’re very grateful to you for recovering us, and your hospitality here has been exceptional. I know there’s many other issues to consider, but if there’s any way at all, even with risk involved, we’d like to return home. I don’t know what specific information I can offer, but I’ll answer anything you ask.”

  “Fair. You are welcome for your stay, and thanks and graz for your information on your era. Good stuff. Conclude?”

  It was agreed, and they disbanded without any ceremony. He was alone with Twine in moments.

  “That was strange, from my perspective,” he said, leaning back in the chair. It was almost like stadium theater seating.

  “You did well,” she said, and brought her chair down near his.

  He faced her and said, “Thanks. What about the other groups?”

  “Those have other issues, still resolving. For one, we can’t place the Gadorth to an exact time or place.”

  A small part of him wanted to stonewall and insist they all be returned, but he had no bargaining chips, it wasn’t his problem, and he was afraid they’d call his bluff.

  “There are some details of concern,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “We know the exact location to send you, but don’t want to mix your arrival and departure.”

  “In case we wind up back where we were?”

  “That would be ironic. They fear the coalescing waves would kill you, among other side effects.”

  “Yes, let’s please avoid that.” He had no idea what energies were involved here, but he imagined intersecting nuclear events.

&
nbsp; “You will be nearby temporally and spatially, but probably not exactly.”

  “Understood.”

  “Let’s discuss how you will present to your own people.”

  It was another two hours and a lunch before they were done, but it was a very productive discussion.

  She led him through the insane corridor back to their dome.

  She said, “Your people appreciate touch in friendship.”

  “Yes?”

  “May I offer you a hug before you leave?”

  A hug, and anything else she wanted to offer, was absolutely fine with him.

  “I’m almost afraid I’d like it too much.”

  She grinned. “That’s a normal response, too.” She wrapped arms around his shoulders and neck, pressed against him knee to cheek, and he clutched her. He’d never appreciated a hug more in his life. She was a human being, warm, and firmly soft.

  He realized he was weeping.

  She broke the touch and stepped back.

  “I will try to visit before you depart,” she said. “I have other projects to monitor, but this one is special to me, you all are. Do you need help relaying the news?”

  “I may. Thanks very much, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll answer any questions then leave your group alone to discuss it.”

  “Thank you,” he said again, and realized he wanted to say it to everyone, repeatedly.

  He turned and stepped through the doorway, with Twine following.

  Everyone was sitting around the table, and they looked at him, tense and eager.

  “They’re going to try to send us home tomorrow.”

  There was a collective inhale and everyone went rigid.

  “They can’t guarantee where or when. It will be within a few hundred miles, and within a few months. We may actually arrive before we left, in which case, we have to go to ground and stay hidden until we know we’ve passed our disappearance date.”

  “This is very important,” Twine said. “We can’t predict what would happen if you encountered yourselves. It might pinch off a new universe. It might cause something like the shock that sent you back, only worse. Or your past selves might just react very badly to your current selves.”

  Spencer asked, “What do we do about a cover story?”

  Elliott said, “That depends on if we’re before or after. If we’re after and have been missing, there’s any number of things we can say. Hijacked is easiest. But we’ll have to agree on details, and I’m afraid they’ll find holes, in which case we get accused of espionage or treason. If we’re before, then we have to wait until after, and we’re very different than we were last year.”

  Jenny Caswell said, “They’re going to think us nuts or lying, either way.”

  “So we have to be able to prove we were here, without too many details.”

  Twine said, “I will leave you alone for now. If you need help, just call. I’ll be available.”

  “Thank you!” everyone chorused.

  Sean was nervous about one thing. He was catching on to their language. When the committee concluded, the chairperson had said, “We’ve decided we can let them live. That’s simplest and I don’t think there will be any side effects.”

  “Okay,” he said, to get past that disturbing memory. “We’ll be in Asia, sometime within a few months. Then we have to make sure we’re not early. So we may have to stay hidden another several months. Everyone understands that, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I will collect all your phones. There’s no communication until I make it. You don’t need them here, so you may as well hand them over now. Pull the cards or batteries if you like. I just want the bodies.”

  There was a little grumbling, but everyone was very sober and complied.

  Trinidad said, “If we might be a while, we need some supplies.”

  “Yes, put a list together and we’ll have them supply us.”

  “Toilet paper and chocolate!” Alexander said.

  “Coffee and toothpaste and razors,” Spencer added.

  CHAPTER 47

  Gina slept only because House dosed them again.

  She did feel better overall. Her joints didn’t ache, she was down four pounds in a week, and her mental acuity was buzzing. She had checklists memorized, and could rattle from memory everybody’s gear.

  “Ms. Twine, will I be able to get my camera back before we depart?”

  “Of course. It was necessary to delete most of your images.”

  She’d expected that.

  “I understand. Were they of use to you?”

  “More than you can imagine, especially with our conversations. You are gifted in your field.”

  “Thank you very much.” Good. If only they knew how gifted. She shifted slightly as the duplicate memory cards in a shielded pouch in her bra itched. Of course, it was possible those had been scrubbed remotely. If so, she had another memory stick secured somewhere else.

  She’d remembered to do that before they bounced forward, even with her brain broken. She wanted to brag about that fact.

  “You’ll take care of Cal?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. He’s a very handsome animal. The species still exists, but has changed, and we’ll examine him noninvasively, as we have been.”

  She was going to miss the stinky furball. It was possible to buy them as exotic pets. She might do that.

  “Thank you,” she said. Once again, they were losing a connection.

  They were escorted to their vehicles, which were clean, surrounded by gear, and had crates of supplies nearby.

  “Those are MREs,” she said.

  “Close copies. They may taste different, but are at least as nutritious and will look the same to observers, in case you must delay.”

  Dalton asked, “What about ammo? We’re going back to a war zone.”

  “You have full combat loads as you described, cased and ready. You can load as soon as you board.”

  Spencer said, “Mags in, chambers empty until we arrive, then we’ll reassess.”

  Details, details, and they were all eager. Were they really going home? It had been two and a half years, longer than any scheduled deployment, in places no soldier had ever thought of going.

  “Are you all ready, then?” Twine asked.

  Spencer said, “Yes, ma’am. We’ll don armor and load up.”

  “One moment, then.”

  She stepped over and hugged him, full body.

  He looked a bit stunned as Twine turned to Gina and offered the same, with the tall woman’s bosom in her face. Gina didn’t mind. It felt good to be touched. Would she see her kids?

  Lar had a lighter touch and was more like a cat, lithe and easing into it so it was hard to tell when the hug started and ended. Ed was warm and strong and seemed a bit bothered. He hugged like a wrestler.

  “Thank you,” she said afterward.

  “You are all welcome. Thank you for the information and your company. I’m sad we won’t meet again.”

  “So are we.”

  They kept losing friends, even though few died. It was strange and bothersome.

  Martin Spencer sat aboard the MRAP, and waited. This wasn’t the bored wait of nothing. This was the tense wait of impending combat, or another loss in time, in which case he wasn’t sure anyone would risk the effort to recover them.

  How fucked up would that be, to wind up in some desolate primitive world after experiencing the limited but insane hospitality of the far future?

  The vehicles had been repaired, and with reproduction twenty-first century tools, so as to minimize even that transfer of technology. He gathered the future folk were very unhappy with the dissemination of knowledge in the past. It certainly gave their very free society something to argue about.

  And fuck them, too. Perhaps they’d have the iron will to live as natives. Or perhaps they’d have curled up and died, being even further removed from nature than he and his comrades.

 
Then he just hoped it worked.

  From overhead, House said, “The system is in power, and the transfer is pending. There is no way to predict exac—”

  BANG.

  They fell, but not as far as the first time, only a few inches.

  They’d moved. Scrubby growth, distant sheep . . .

  Well, it certainly looked like Asscrackistan.

  Elliott said, “Unass, perimeter, scan.”

  He took the rear and looked about. They were on a hillside, in what looked like spring, with little around them.

  And he could smell the difference.

  “I smell farming, industry and chemical crap in the air,” he said.

  “Yeah!” Ortiz agreed. “It definitely smells like home. And I don’t care about the pollution.”

  Elliott said, “I have signal.”

  “Yes?” The tension was palpable.

  “It’s March third.”

  “What year?”

  “Next year. Our next year. We’ve been gone six months.”

  Ortiz shouted, “Get the fucking radio up, we’re going home!”

  Spencer said, “Let me do the talking. I know what they want to hear.”

  He took the radio, switched to Guard frequency and clicked it. “Charlie Nine to any allied unit. Emergency, over.” He gave their convoy and route number. He waited a painful thirty seconds and repeated.

  “Unit identified as Charlie Nine, this is Trumpcard. If this is a joke you are in trouble, over.”

  “Trumpcard, no joke. This is Charlie Nine. I believe we’ve been out of contact about six months. It’s a long story for debrief. We need rescue and recovery. Charlie Eight is with us. All personnel are fit and capable, over.”

  “Charlie Nine, understood. We have your grid. Identify your last four, over.”

  “Fower fife two tree, over.”

  “I will be damned. You’re real. Welcome home, over.”

  He felt tears welling up.

  “Thank you, sir. It’s great to be here, over.”

  “We are on station, and should have you in range. Keep your line open, over.”

  “Roger. Charlie Nine, listening, out.”

  Shit, they really were home.

  He turned to the rest and said, “Okay, they’re going to show up. We do exactly as they say—they have to confirm we’re not hostile. Expect to be treated like prisoners at first. Expect to be positively identified. Then we get to talk. It’s going to be weeks or months before we’re done. But we’re back.”