The Garden

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The Garden Page 34

by Craig W. Turner


  “Yes, if we can get access.”

  “I have an idea for that.”

  The crowd was virtually impassable, but Keegan used his large frame to push through until they reached the stairs leading down to the field. As they emerged from the public area, they could see that thousands of chairs had been set up cathedral-style on the playing field, facing a stage on which hung a colorful backdrop reading, Time: Infinite Possibilities, and featuring a larger-than-life headshot of Dipin’s father, “The Father of Time Travel,” Javesh Chopra. It took Keegan’s breath away to see the image of a man he revered, whose work had shaped his own life, and who had died some twenty years earlier, when Keegan was just a teenager whose only legitimate career aspiration was to play shooting guard for the Knicks. To the right, a 30-foot banner read 2067 Yale University Speaker Series in blue-and-white.

  “Wow,” said Reilly next to him. “My old friend.”

  “Would you have met yet at this point?”

  “No. We met about ten years after this.”

  “Good.”

  Without saying anything else, Keegan darted down the stairs as quickly as the flow of the crowd would let him. He didn’t know if Reilly was keeping up, but when he reached the bottom, as he suspected, they found the mouth of the dugout was heavily guarded. That, plus the obvious aisle that had been created to the stage area, confirmed for him that Chopra was inside. He stepped over the railing and onto the field in foul territory, about twenty feet from the dugout, and scanned the crowd. After a moment, a young woman sitting and waiting in an aisle seat for the presentation to begin caught his eye, and he hurried over to her.

  “Excuse me,” he said, catching her attention. It was never easy for a 6’7” man with tattoos on his face to delicately get a woman’s attention, but she took it in stride. “I was wondering if I could borrow a sheet of paper and use your pen for a moment.”

  Silently, she tore a sheet of paper from her pad and handed it to him with her pen. “Thank you,” Keegan said. “I appreciate it. Everyone else around has a tablet for notes. I’m a pen-and-paper guy myself.” The woman smiled politely as he jotted down a note on the paper, then handed her pen back to her, thanking her again.

  He turned and retreated toward the dugout, where Reilly caught up to him. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying something,” he said.

  Keegan approached one of the uniformed guards standing in front of the dugout. An expert in reading people’s reactions to his physical presence, he noticed the man flinch. “I’m sorry, officer,” he said, “but I need to get this note to Dr. Chopra.”

  The man, a well-built African-American, shook his head. “I can’t do that, sir.”

  “It’s important,” he said. He looked back at Reilly. “We work for Dr. Chopra.” He waved the note. “This is about his presentation today.”

  The officer held out his hand for the note. Keegan hesitated, considering quickly if giving him the note would be a mistake, trying not to let his indecision show on his face. Deciding it might be the only way, he handed it over. The man opened it, inspected it for a moment, and then folded it again. “He’ll know what this means?”

  “He will, yes.” Keegan said.

  The officer turned and took a few steps into the dugout, grabbing a young man standing behind him. Though they couldn’t hear what he was saying, the officer handed over the note and the man disappeared into the tunnel presumably leading to the locker room.

  “I was hasty,” Keegan whispered to Reilly. “I probably should’ve let you handle that.”

  “Too late now.”

  The officer returned to them and asked them to wait to the side, which they did.

  Keegan took the idle time to look over the sea of people settling into their seats. There were thousands upon thousands of people in attendance, and he thought back to his history, trying to determine at this point what the status of time travel technology was in Dr. Javesh Chopra’s creation. As Reilly had pointed out, the SATP concept would be initiated in about ten years, so Chopra was most likely in the process of perfecting the time portal. Only ten years away from success, his theories on time travel would be well-developed at this point, thus his popularity as a keynote speaker. Keegan knew of him that he was an extremely private person, more comfortable in front of a microscope than a microphone, and did not grant speaking engagements often. It was reasonable that this event had impacted Fitcher enough for him to include the moment in his autobiography.

  Movement to his side pulled his attention away from the crowd and his thoughts. He looked down to see the man who had disappeared into the dugout standing with the officer.

  “Dr. Chopra would like to see you,” he said.

  CHAPTER 78

  Keegan could barely contain himself. In fact, a big part of him was thinking he wouldn’t be able to keep it together, and would come across as a teenager seeing her favorite rock star in person.

  Pacing the floor in front of him, while he sat on a wooden stool in the Yale baseball team’s locker room, was the man who had been the predominant influence on his life – his career path, his ambitions, even his college major. And even though he knew the man’s own son on a somewhat personal level, it wasn’t of the same grandeur. Through the magic of time travel, he now had the opportunity.

  Not only that, but he’d been successful in capturing his attention. One of the most brilliant men who had ever lived, and Keegan had run a gambit on him that had worked. He felt cavalier and humbled at the same time.

  “My wife is three months pregnant with our first child,” Dr. Chopra said, looking squarely at Keegan, his voice reminiscent of Dipin’s, but with a deeper accent. “We’ve already decided that if it’s a boy we’re going to name him Dipin. There’s only two people on the planet who know that, and that’s my wife and me.” Keegan started to respond but Chopra held up his hand. “I can only assume that you’ve arrived from the future, and now you’ve ruined our surprise concerning the gender of our child. I won’t tell Mrs. Chopra.”

  Not what Keegan expected him to say. “I’m sorry?” he said.

  Chopra laughed. “Actually, it’s quite ingenious,” he said, looking at the ceiling as he spoke. “There was little chance of you getting in here to see me with all the security, unless you blew my mind with something significant. Which you’ve done. My quandary is deciding what I should ask you, and how much I want to know. How much is safe for me to know? Because just your presence here tells me so much about my future, that I’m honestly terrified of what you might say.”

  Keegan sighed. The magic of the moment was suddenly lost in the severity. Chopra was right. What they were doing was unbelievably dangerous, but a part of him hoped that almost in a fatherly way Chopra could steer him through the situation. He hadn’t considered the ramifications of their contact.

  “Still,” Chopra said, “you’re here for a reason and your chicanery in contacting me tells me that you at least believe that I can help. First question, Dr. McIntyre: Where are you from?”

  Keegan looked around the locker room to make sure no one had lingered when Chopra had sent his security detail away. He didn’t know how freely Chopra talked with his team, but the fewer people knew what was happening, the better for everyone involved. “The year 2109.”

  Chopra nodded. “And whatever brought you here, I had something to do with its creation?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said. Reilly, on another stool next to him, remained quiet. This was Keegan’s ballgame.

  “And my son, Dipin?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He nodded again, slowly, thinking as he gestured. “Okay,” he finally said, “I don’t want to know too much. Can you tell me your dilemma without telling me the entire future of time travel science?”

  “I believe so, sir.”

  “Go on.”

  Keegan took a glance at Reilly, as if to invite him into the conversation, but he simply motioned for him to go ahead. “Our arrival here tells you that time tr
avel is a technology that is successfully used,” he said, trying to protect Chopra from as many details as possible and still get the point across. He spoke slowly to check himself. “It’s also highly regulated and under the watchful eye of an international consortium. To date, there has been no malfeasance.”

  “To date?”

  Keegan nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, we’ve learned that the President of the United States, who was elected in 2108, is attempting to dismantle the program that’s in place and unilaterally take control.”

  “That could be very dangerous,” Chopra said. He looked at Reilly. “You’re not saying much.”

  “Intentionally,” Reilly said. While Keegan had introduced himself, Reilly had chosen not to. Noticing it, Keegan had been impressed with the General’s wisdom on the fly.

  “Hmmm,” Chopra said, finally pulling a stool of his own from an adjoining locker and sitting across from them. “So, your issue is the political environment some four decades into the future.” He shook his head. “I don’t see how I can help.”

  “He’s here.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “The man who will be elected president in 2108.”

  Chopra pointed to the ground. “He’s here? Today? How could you possibly know that?”

  “He wrote about it in his autobiography,” Keegan said. “He credited your speech today as the turning point in his life on the road to the White House.”

  “Really?” Chopra leaned back on his stool, clearly dumbfounded. Keegan tried to read whether it was about the perilous future they’d described for him, or the fact that he’d influenced someone who would ultimately hold the most powerful office in the world. Turns out it was the former. “Well, I can’t give this speech, then.”

  “But you can’t not give this speech,” Keegan said. “We don’t know who’s in the crowd today that will be inspired by your words into other pursuits, including time travel science itself. We’re not here to upset the apple cart. Originally, my plan was to intercept the President and keep him from attending, which was a delusion of grandeur. It wasn’t until I saw the crowd out there that I realized how ill-conceived it was.”

  “That doesn’t leave me with many options now, does it, Dr. McIntyre?” Chopra said. “I really can only give the speech or not give the speech.”

  “You can change the speech,” Reilly said, breaking his silence.

  “Change it? How?” Chopra asked, interested. Keegan looked at him, as well.

  “Not having heard what you have to say, and not knowing exactly where the science is as of today, I don’t know,” Reilly said. “But I’m wondering if there is something in your speech that he may have latched onto that set him on this path. Taking over the time travel program was not on a list of the President’s ‘Top 10’ priorities. It was the first thing that he dug into the second he removed his hand from the Bible. Within six months of taking office, he’s already made his move on the program, and it’s causing chaos. Somewhere along the way, he picked up his own theories about how time travel could be used to his political advantage, and I’m betting today was that day.”

  Chopra put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Without looking up, he said, “You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t have a written copy of the speech, and I don’t use a teleprompter. I’m going to have to go through the speech in my head and see if there’s anything that stands out.”

  They sat while he pondered for several minutes. At one point, he got up from the stool and resumed his pacing around the locker room. Keegan watched him work, studying how a genius sorted out thoughts in his own mind. He watched his facial expressions and body language as he went through his own overview of his presentation. It was an experience he knew he would relish forever.

  A knock on the door interrupted their thoughts, and Reilly got up to answer it. He opened the door, had a whispered conversation, and then closed the door. When he returned, Chopra was still deep in his introspection, so he sat again. “They’re asking where he is. He’s supposed to be on now.”

  Keegan laughed. “I don’t think he’s-”

  “I’m sorry,” Chopra said.

  They both turned to look at him. “You’re sorry?” Keegan asked.

  He was nodding. “Yes, for whatever problems I’ve caused you. I know exactly what I said that influenced him.”

  “You do?”

  Chopra sighed and sat on his stool once again. He folded his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. “Often the best way to make the case for something is to enunciate the worst-case scenario,” he said. “I didn’t only inspire him through the science of discovery in this speech, I gave him the plan that you tell me he is enacting in your present time.” He closed his eyes and recited, “Human time travel will either finally allow humanity to reach its full potential, or bring about its demise. In a controlled environment, where mankind as a whole has control over the science, it can be used to help us flourish socially, environmentally and politically, as we not only secure knowledge of the mistakes of the past, but develop understanding of what it was that made them mistakes. However, if the balance shifts, and control over time falls into the hands of one, or a few, the possibility of irreparable damage is almost guaranteed. Societies, cultures and ways-of-life, the things that are the essence of humanity, can be obliterated. And while the allure of being able to eliminate your political or military enemy before they have a chance to become an enemy may seem expedient, the repercussions would be uncontrollable and far-reaching. This cannot be allowed. It can never be allowed. And we must all work together to ensure it doesn’t happen.” He stopped and looked up at them. “Honestly, I don’t know why I included that section in there. The rest of the speech is all about discovery, urging the students listening to spend their lives dedicated to making discoveries. I suppose a part of me felt the need to add a caveat. Perhaps to soothe my own conscience. I am thankful you caught me.”

  “I don’t know,” Keegan said, shaking his head. “Do we really think changing a section of a speech 40 years ago will change the President’s motivations in the future? He’s a smart guy. He doesn’t seem like the type that needs to be spoon fed ideas.”

  “No idea is spoon fed,” Chopra said. “Ideas are planted like seeds and cultivated by personal experience. Sometimes, they’re impossible to stop once conceived.”

  “No, no,” Keegan said, panic striking him suddenly. “Now thinking this through, if we change the President’s intentions, it will destroy everything that was happening back in the present time.” He looked at Reilly. “You said the mission happened in response to the President’s orders. If those aren’t his orders, then there’s no telling what we’ll be going back to. We don’t know where the team will be. We don’t know where you or I will be.” He turned his focus back to Chopra. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here. We can’t do this.”

  “Well, Dr. McIntyre,” Chopra said, “you can’t expect me to go on as planned, knowing what I now know. It doesn’t matter that it’s 40 years in the future. If my work is going to cause harm, I can’t go through with it.”

  Keegan started to push back, but Reilly jumped in. “No,” he said. “Keegan’s right. It’s too big a risk. We need to send him on his way as planned.”

  Chopra was silent, looking at Keegan, though Reilly had been talking. “I’m listening only because the two of you appear to have a lot more experience with time travel than I do, as my work is only based on theories. I can’t argue with you that changing the past to correct the future comes with a great deal of risk, but I can also make the case that since we’re talking about the future to me, and not to you, you’ll have to understand that I have a very different perspective than you do on preventing it. So, tell me, what do you propose to do?” His tone was different than it was even moments before and in every video Keegan had ever seen. Hope was gone. He was dead serious.

  “He’s not going to do anything,” Reilly said. “I am.”

  Now Keegan looked a
t his traveling companion, though he could still feel Chopra looking at him.

  “How?” Chopra asked.

  Reilly looked at the locker room floor. “Well, that’s probably best if I’m the only one who knows. You’ll have to trust me.”

  Chopra stood up. “Trust you?”

  There was another knock on the door and one of the pages stuck her head through the door. “Dr. Chopra, it’s time,” she said.

  “They can wait,” he said sharply without looking. The woman closed the door, leaving them alone again, and he returned his attention to Reilly. “Trust you? I don’t know you.”

  “You will,” Reilly said.

  “But I don’t today.”

  Now Reilly stood and faced him. “Dr. Chopra, I have traveled to destinations you cannot even imagine, using technology that you created,” he said. “I have seen the power of this science, and I know full well what it could mean if it fell into the wrong hands. I have sacrificed myself to come here to stop what is happening in our present time. If it wasn’t imprudent to do so, I could sit here and lay out the entire scenario for you, and – in detail – break down for you how we got from this event today to where we are in your future. But I can’t do that, and I won’t do that. What I will do is engage in a single-minded plan to rectify the situation, where I will be the only one who has any knowledge of my actions, to protect you, Keegan, his team and the world.”

  Chopra was silent for a moment, and remained standing, staring into Reilly’s eyes. After a moment, he said quietly, “These are just words, you know.”

  Reilly shook his head. “Not to me, they’re not.”

  Keegan could see the determination in his face, and for the first time since they arrived realized that he, himself had a choice to make, as well. Within the last hour or so, he’d gone from complete mistrust for Reilly to at least giving him the benefit of the doubt. But that wasn’t good enough. If he was going to leave Reilly behind to do whatever it was that he was planning, he needed to trust him implicitly – a guy who had just admitted to him that he’d been charged with the task of murdering his colleagues. In a short while, Keegan would be traveling back to his present time, and whatever Reilly will have done would have a tremendous impact on what he would find when he got there. He tried to quickly weigh his options, and made a decision. “To me, either,” he said, standing and drawing Chopra’s attention. “It’s the only way.”

 

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