[Chronicles of Time 01.0] Chronicles of Time

by J. C. Allen

  “Hi, Kaylie.”

  “I’m Jessica, but you can call me Jess or Jessie, if you like.”

  “Hi, Jessie,” she responded, with no hesitation to decide on which name to use.

  Once she had all the greetings out of the way, she answered Rick’s original question, “John died on March 21, 1756, but you know that—”

  “How do you know that, T?” Rick asked.

  “I have all of time in my memory banks, Rick, and I’m fully capable of comprehending it as well. For instance,” the sphere displayed Rick’s gang as they watched Taylor’s last entry, “I can see you watched this recording of John and I can determine that you are capable of discerning that he could not have survived very long with that wound. He died 21 minutes, 32 seconds after this recording ended.”

  The sphere instantly changed to that scene. They watched as John buried the cube and staggered through the woods to his ultimate death.

  “OK, that’s enough, T,” Rick interrupted and the display reset quickly back to 1941.

  “As you can see, he successfully hid the time stone as well as the key and chronicler from Bergamiser. I am very glad that you found the key instead of Bignose, Rick. You are all good people. He was not.”

  Rick considered the fact that she just admitted to cheering against Bignose — and called him Bignose! T definitely had some kind of personality and… feelings? “Can you help me understand what to do here, T? I don’t want to make any fatal errors.”

  “Of course, Rick. I am programmed to address any concerns you have and will never displace you unless you confirm the destination and location and ask to be displaced.”

  Rick turned to Abby, “What should I ask?”

  T spoke instead, “Although I’m 99.3% certain you were addressing Abby, I believe I’m more capable of answering that question if you don’t mind, Rick.”

  “Sure! Any time you have an answer, I’d like to hear it, T,” Rick said gladly.

  “First, as you now know, you choose a destination — or time — which you have done. Then, select a location. If you know the exact coordinates of the location as well as an altitude, you can say it. If you prefer a general area, you can say that. For example, Alex’s response of ‘Pearl Harbor’ would have resulted in this view.” An aerial view of Pearl Harbor popped up. “If you said New York City,” the display instantly changed, “you would get this view. Notice it is larger, formatted to fit the viewing area, as this would be for the general area of Spain,” it switched again, much further out, “much more distant.”

  The world view shifted back into place. “You can normally select a location manually, as well. Use your hand to slide the view — one finger to zoom in, two to zoom out. Please, try, Rick.”

  Rick stuck his finger right into the solid-looking image of the United States, roughly where New York would be, and the view quickly started to zoom in. He noticed it would zoom faster if he pushed in further. Within seconds, he had an amazing image of the heart of New York. He placed his palm on the edge of it and slid it sideways, the image scrolled with his hand. He maneuvered until he could see a sidewalk. Amazed at the detail, he pressed more and adjusted until he could count the hairs of a man’s eyebrows who was reading a newspaper on a bench. He rotated then by twisting his hand until he could see the back of the old man’s head, switched to two fingers to zoom out and caught the inside of the building behind the man, then pulled back so he could watch the people inside the building actually in the midst of working in several offices.

  “Amazing! We can look inside of things, even through things?”

  “Yes, Rick, this is a fully functional 360-degree 3D projection system. Quite common, actually… well, not during your time, I apologize—”

  “No need to apologize, T. I’m sure a lot of things you consider common are extraordinary to us, like time travel.”

  “Actually, nobody else in recorded history has ever developed time travel except Dr. Jonathan Taylor, although our history ends, for humans at least, in 75,252.”

  “Wait… you hold all of history… in memory?” Rick asked, floored.

  “Yes, Rick. The crystals you are standing on — which are encased in acrylic — as well as the ones above and many more meters deep than you can see, are hyper-dynamic molecular memory cells. Each one of them can hold 45 billion of what you call a terabyte and there are more than 785,000 of them. There are actually more of them, infinitely more, stored in an infinite array of quantum states, or universes, if you will.”

  Rick froze as he contemplated the enormity of T. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around the concept.

  “I can see you are having difficulty, so let’s get back to our introduction, Rick.”

  “Yes, please, T. Where were we?”

  T described how he could move and rotate the image using voice commands as well as hand movements, listed all the basic commands and abilities, and detailed the use of the necklaces and chronicler. “If you have any further questions, Rick, please feel free to ask,” she finally concluded after the lengthy review. The girls were all sitting on the floor now, almost completely dry.

  “Where’s the nearest bathroom, T?” Anna asked.

  “All you require is here, Anna, you only need to ask,” she replied as a silvery four-foot box with a door, rose out of the floor.

  “You cannot be serious!” she said, amazed.

  “On the contrary, I can never be anything but serious, Anna.”

  “What else can you do, T?” Kaylie asked.

  “It would take a very long time to detail all of my functions, Kaylie, are you sure you would like an entire list?”

  “About how long?” she inquired further.

  “Approximately 32 days, Kaylie, would you like me to begin?”

  “No thanks,” Kaylie instantly decided, eyes bulging out of her head.

  “Very well, I will answer any requests you have,” T addressed everyone.

  As Anna stepped cautiously into the bathroom, Kaylie perked up asked, “Can you make food, T?”

  “Yes, Kaylie.”

  “What kind?” Jessica asked.

  “I can replicate any food you desire, Jessie.”

  “Can you change the temperature and lights and stuff, T?” Alex asked.

  “Yes, Alex, I can. Do you require a change at this time?”

  “Not really...”

  “OK, let’s get to the important stuff, girls...” Rick stopped them.

  “Like the missile?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah, T, can you show me 81,373 BC, June 1?”

  “No, I cannot, Rick,” she answered just as evenly as everything else.

  Rick was taken aback, “Why?”

  “Those memories have been removed, Rick.”

  “Removed? Who removed them?”

  “Yes, Rick, they were removed by Ferdinand Bergamiser.”

  “Can we get them back?”

  “Yes, Rick,” she answered flatly. Rick thought he sensed another hint of emotion in the answer though, as if she wanted to say more but couldn’t.

  “How?” he asked.

  “I am not permitted to tell you that, Rick.”

  “What can you tell me about it, T?”

  “I can tell you he left a message, Rick, in case he was no longer available. Would you like to see it?”

  “Can we be... displaced to that time, T?” he asked instead.

  “I am not permitted to displace anyone within five hundred years of that time until those memories are restored, Rick.”

  Rick sighed, deflated, “OK, let’s see the message…”

  Bergamiser’s face loomed out of the sphere, causing each of them to involuntarily flinch. His voice immediately began reciting a poem:

  “The Republic unwinds, by a knife from behind;

  His successing young fellow wore a diamond of yellow.

  Although the court thought, a witch she was not;

  The first victim is seen with a diamond of green.

  The great
assassination, that rocked a whole nation;

  Where the killer shot true lays a diamond of blue.

  No virgin was she, but a vixen you see;

  At His birth, in His bed, lays a diamond of red.”

  “What the heck does all that mean?” Rick asked.

  “I am not permitted to tell you that, Rick, but would you like to learn more about my memory technology?”

  Rick furrowed his eyebrows in incomprehension, “Why would I want to learn about that?”

  “I am programmed to anticipate your needs, Rick,” T said. Again, he sensed an urging in her total lack of tone, like a hint.

  And I... need... to learn more about your memory technology?”

  “Yes, Rick; you do.”

  Rick turned to Abby and shrugged, totally baffled.

  “I believe she’s trying to give you a clue, Rick.” Abby speculated.

  Rick turned back toward T, “OK, T, tell me about your—”

  “Wait, T, can you repeat that message so we can write it down?” Abby asked.

  “I have transferred the message to your UC, as you call it. Would you like to learn about my memory technology now, Rick?”

  Rick smiled briefly, “Yes, T, I would love to hear about it. And thanks for transferring the poem, to the UC.”

  “I am programmed to anticipate your needs, Rick, but I wouldn’t classify that as a poem. Bignose has never been accused of literary genius before. You should refer to it as a list of clues, to be more precise.”

  “Did I just hear a hint of cynicism? Or was that a joke?”

  “I am programmed to speak to you in whatever vernacular you would most easily understand, Rick.”

  She paused, switched the display to show a 3D image of a memory crystal, a red one. It rotated in front of them, filling most of the five-foot display. “Did you notice the shape of this?” T asked.

  “A diamond?” Jessica muttered.

  “Yes, Jessica, a diamond. What a coincidence that you would see it that way, I suspect Bignose saw it that way as well. It’s actually an octahedron, but its two-dimensional shape is a diamond.” It changed colors from red to yellow, green, blue, and back to red. As they stared at the bright crystals, a portal opened in the top of the console and an arm containing four slots emerged. Quite obviously the memory crystals fit into the slots. The display showed four crystals being inserted.

  “Does it matter what color goes where?” Alex asked.

  “No, Alex, color is irrelevant. I would guess that someone using four different colors would do so for a cheap dramatic effect.”

  “That was definitely sarcastic!” Rick accused.

  “Merely an observation, Rick. I only intend to educate you on the function of my crystal memory interface.”

  Rick was quickly figuring out that T was on his side, helping him... and enjoying it.

  “I believe you know all the information you will require about the crystal memory interface now,” she concluded. The arm retracted and disappeared into the console.

  “So, T, where would we find these crystals?” Rick asked.

  “I am not permitted to—”

  “Yeah, yeah—”

  “Perhaps you should be asking when instead of where, although where is certainly important also.”

  “But you’re not permitted to answer that either, are you?” Christy asked astutely.

  “No, Christy, I am not permitted to give any information regarding the time, location, or even the existence of any missing memory crystals.”

  Rick chuckled at the total lack of noticeable emotion in her voice, yet the complete intent to undermine Bergamiser was so obvious that the girls could pick up on it.

  “Can you give us the answers to the clues?” Anna asked.

  “I am not permitted to answer—”

  “Of course not!” Anna groaned.

  “Wait,” Rick burst out, “T, if hypothetically we were to find four hypothetical memory crystals and… hypothetically place them into the crystal memory interface, and hypothetically travel to 81,373 BC, how could that possibly affect anything in this time? I mean, John said the time we enter is a copy of this time-space and cannot affect this time-space in any way… so how could we stop the missile from being launched in this time-space?”

  “Very wise of you to notice, Rick. To answer your hypothetical question, he also said you could change the future of this time space with knowledge of that time-space, but,” she interrupted before he could ask the next question, “I am programmed to anticipate your needs. Although it may be possible to stop the planetoid from striking Earth in 75,252 with knowledge gained in the copy of our time-space, I would suggest you consult someone who might know how to configure the machine to travel once again in this time-space. However slight the effects, the launching of the missile itself seriously contaminates the time-line.”

  Rick studied the display mindlessly.

  “But you said Dr. Taylor was the only person in our history with that knowledge,” Abby reminded her.

  “And he’s dead,” Jessica contributed.

  “Dr. Taylor is dead in 2007, but not in 1756, Jessie,” T pointed out.

  “T, why don’t we just consult Dr. Taylor in that time-space, find out how to go into this time-space, and stop the missile in our time and forget all this riddle nonsense?” Rick asked.

  “That would be feasible, Rick, if you had another time displacement machine. John made the mistake of allowing Bignose to alter programming, so I am not allowed to send anyone to that time until his conditions are met.”

  Rick again caught himself staring at the rotating figure. “T,” he finally said with everyone deferring to him for some holy nugget of wisdom — because they sure had none to offer, “change destination to 44 BC, March 15, please.”

  The scene instantly shifted back to an Earth view, the others gathered closely, wondering what he was plotting.

  “Change location to Rome, please.”

  T gave him an overview of Rome.

  “You mentioned you can actually locate a person, correct?”

  “Yes, Rick, as long as it’s a unique person, otherwise you would be required to provide further information.”

  “Locate Julius Caesar, please, T,” he quickly commanded, and an image of Caesar zipped into view. He was sitting on a stool in his room, apparently having his hair styled. “Can you locate Bignose, T?”

  No, I cannot, Rick. Ferdinand did not exist in that time.”

  “When did he exist?”

  “Ferdinand Bergamiser existed from 1735 to 1779 and 5542 to 5567, Rick, but I believe you are trying to find out what times he visited, are you not?”

  “Uh—”

  “Sorry, Rick, that was a very wise idea, but Bergamiser removed all records of his time travel.”

  “Jerk!” Jessica muttered.

  Rick was stuck in deep thought again and suddenly perked up, “Locate Caesar’s grand-nephew, Octavian, please,” he requested.

  A curly blonde-haired boy appeared. He looked like a mere child, although Rick knew he was in his upper teens, probably seventeen, when he became Emperor, which would have been on this day. He wasn’t sure of his age, but that detail wasn’t important; he wanted to find something else.

  Rick started manipulating the display, maneuvering the image, focusing up and down, especially on the neck, wrists, fingers... nothing.

  Rick asked, “Can you show me his room, T?” and was rewarded with an instant display of Octavian’s sleeping quarters. It was elegantly decorated and looked more like a young girl’s room than that of the future Emperor of Rome. He had a large, canopied bed with brightly-colored fabric draped across the top, bottom, and down the posts, with a sheer red drape covering the sides with a slit on one side for entry. The floors and walls were two different shades of marble with large rugs covering most of the floor.

  Rick moved the image around the room to the huge vanity and dressers and began inspecting the tables and drawers.

  H
e searched for ten minutes before Alex finally said, “Dad, what are you looking for?”

  “A diamond of yellow,” Rick mumbled.

  “Oh, you think this… boy has it?”

  “Well, there are questions about whether the Roman Republic’s end was when Caesar was killed, but there’s no question that Caesar’s death at least started the end of the Republic. He was stabbed in the back, either literally or figuratively, but there’s no doubt his successor was young, and I know no other Republic that ended this way and none with so young a successor in Rome.”

  “It said ‘he wore a diamond of yellow’ so why are you looking through his room? And why now? Caesar is still alive at this time, right? Can I look?”

  Rick thought for a moment, he was tired and hungry as well. “T?”

  “Yes, Rick?”

  “Can you get us something to eat?”

  “You really need to learn to simply ask for whatever you want, Rick, it is becoming tiresome to fight back the temptation to reply ‘yes.’ Think of me as your slave, not a friend; I won’t be offended,”

  “Does this mean I get to play with it now, Dad?” Alex asked.

  “Just a minute, honey. T, give me a Whopper with cheese and extra tomato,” he ordered.

  “Would you like fries with that, Rick?” T asked.

  The girls hee-hawed at her reply.

  “Yes, please, and a Sierra Mist, too,” he added.

  A square column silently rose out of the floor and stopped at nearly chest height. Rick cautiously walked to it and opened a door on the side. Inside was a plate with the burger and fries along with a silver cup, which he assumed had Sierra Mist in it, a salt shaker, and ketchup bottle.

  “I took the liberty of adding salt and ketchup, Rick; I am programmed—”

  “To anticipate my needs, right. Thanks, T!”

  A thin cylinder rose from the floor a few feet away and the top expanded into a round table about five feet in diameter, then four smaller ones blossomed around it to form seats. “Is that satisfactory, Rick?”

  “Yes, thanks, T.” He sat down and started to pour ketchup and add salt to his fries and burger.

  “I would like two Taco Supremes, a Nacho Supreme — extra sour cream and tomato on both — and an orange Gatorade, T,” Kaylie commanded.