A Chronetic Memory (The Chronography Records Book 1)

by O'Hara, Kim K.

  She reached into the pocket of her lab coat for a tissue, not really expecting to find one, but hoping all the same. Instead, she found a plastic leaf, a scrap of leather, a stone, and a metal disk. With a pang of nostalgia, she remembered how Jored had quickly figured out which were the best sources. A thought crossed her mind, so brief she almost missed it, but there it was.

  Those objects had been with her all this time. If she could remember Jored, would these objects still have their chronetic imprints intact? Could she, if she scanned the leather or stone or metal disk, see him one more time?

  She fumbled for an object and found the leather scrap. She placed it in the chamber, taking out the object she had just scanned before her meltdown, and tuned into 22150606:180000, scanning forward quickly.

  At first, all she saw in the filtered light was pocket lint and glimpses of the other three objects. About five minutes in, she saw her own hand reach in and surround the objects. A room emerged, a familiar room. Kat and Marak’s house. A shelf materialized under her viewpoint. Still, all these things could have happened in this new reality as well as the old. She kept watching. As the Dani in the image stepped back from the shelf, her throat tightened. There was Jored’s dear, smiling little face. Her hand shot out to hit the pause button, and she gazed at him hungrily. Her integration with the machine made it seem absolutely, completely, real. She wanted to reach out and touch his face. Her arms ached to hug him. If only Kat and Marak could see this!

  Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. But that was a plan that would have to wait until tomorrow.

  For now, she would need to finish her assigned—and self-assigned—tasks. She sped through the time decay checks without finding any blanks. She had just enough time to check the padlock before leaving for the day.

  By now, she had all the settings memorized. She put it on full circle to catch every possible clue and backed it up two minutes for a first try. If she saw something interesting, she could always back it up more.

  Dani was used to ignoring most of the sensory inputs from the scanner when she did her daily tasks, but now she absorbed the details and ignored her own surroundings. It helped to close her eyes.

  In front of her was the garden with the empty patio. Behind her was a street scene. People passed her along the sidewalk, some in pairs or groups, chatting cheerfully, others alone, intent on their destinations or a connexion call. She listened attentively, looking for anyone that might be a blackmail target.

  “… never have enough games at a party. My daughter can recommend …”

  “…would be a mistake. Finally, he listened, and everything …”

  “… going to want to reschedule that meeting. When’s a good time for …”

  “… got home and the kids had cleaned their rooms. I felt like I was …”

  She hit the blank without finding anything. No words that sounded suspicious or guilty. No potential for blackmail here. Of course, she couldn’t tell what conversations might have passed the padlock during the blanked out time, but she remembered that the original investigation had been directed toward the patio. If it was the blackmailer who had commissioned the recording, it would make sense that the focal point of his interest was there.

  She adjusted the settings for the time after the blank and turned the scanner on again, ready to absorb every detail.

  There! There were people on the patio. This must be the couple Marak talked about, the people he avoided by sneaking around the front. A distinguished-looking middle-aged man with graying hair, dressed comfortably but professionally in a short-sleeved button-up shirt, was standing near a seated woman, bent over with her face in her hands. She was crying quietly. He reached over for her awkwardly, then seemed to think better of it.

  The man had his back to Dani, and she couldn’t see the woman’s face. Maybe if she kept watching, she would catch a glimpse.

  “Are you sure?” the man asked.

  The woman looked up, and Dani caught her breath. She knew this woman, with her dark hair and soft eyes. It was Dr. Brant, nine years younger. “Why else would I have this lapse of memory, Mitch?”

  Mitch. Dani tried to think who that might be.

  “Could you have fallen asleep? It was late at night.”

  “I don’t think so. And I was so groggy when I got home. I hardly remember anything from after the accident, until the next morning.” She thought for a minute. “And I remember absolutely nothing from before the accident.”

  “Still, you haven’t had anything to drink for months. Do you remember going to a bar? Did you find a bottle out at home the next day?”

  “No, but …” She stopped, ashamed.

  “What is it?”

  “I do have a bottle at home, that I tucked away for, well, you know, emergencies?” She looked up apologetically, then continued, “I took that out the morning after, and nearly half the bottle was gone. It wasn’t that big a bottle, but it was enough. I’m so glad Royce was there to take me home before they tested my alcohol level!”

  Royce! That had to be Kat’s Uncle Royce! Then that would make Mitch … Dr. Mitchum Seebak!

  At that moment, he sat back down, with his face where she could see him. “If he hadn’t, you’d be in jail now.”

  “Do you think I’m worried about that? I’m worried about the family. What will happen to Lexil if Elena doesn’t wake up? This is all my fault.”

  “Lexil is okay, for now. Well, physically, anyway. He’s with me. He misses his mom and dad, of course. But he’s sixteen, and he doesn’t like to let it show. I’ve known him practically all his life, and he used to talk to me all the time. But this will take a while, I think. The only thing I get from him, other than small talk, is to ask me every day if I’ve heard anything new. He spends all day on Saturdays at her bedside. He used to be there even more often, every waking hour of every day, until we convinced him he needed to go back to school.”

  Dr. Brant groaned again. So much guilt to bear! Dani thought. But Dr. Brant regained her composure in a few seconds. “He’s a smart kid. I hope, for his sake, that she does wake up. He was so close to both of them.”

  “I hope so too, but it’s not looking good.”

  “We can always pray for miracles.”

  “Yes, we can always do that.”

  She had recovered enough to stand. He put an arm around her shoulders in a fatherly gesture and walked with her off the range of the scanner.

  Dani was so absorbed, she almost forgot to turn it off.

  She was a little shocked to find out that Dr. Brant had been involved in the accident that ultimately killed Dr. Howe. That was a piece of information that had not made the news or the textbooks. She was certain, now, that she’d learned what the blackmailer knew. But who would want to blackmail Dr. Brant? What would the blackmailer gain? Was it for money or for something else?

  Dani decided she would try, one more time, to talk to the scientist. Only this time, she would do it somewhere she wouldn’t be seen. It was likely that the blackmailer was part of the institute in some way, and until she knew who it was, she would need to hide her investigations from everybody except Anders. She supposed she could add Dr. Brant to that list now. The victim was not likely to also be the blackmailer.

  She glanced at her worktablet. Time to go.

  Time to talk to Anders.

  RIACH TUBE STOP, Alki Beach, Seattle, WA. 1710, Thursday, June 8, 2215.

  “Going my way?” Anders was waiting at the tube station already, sitting on a bench. He flashed a broad grin.

  “Thought I might!” She smiled. That grin lifted her spirits, even though she knew they would be talking about serious—and possibly dangerous—things. In this world where she had to consider everybody a brand new acquaintance, he was fast becoming one of her favorites.

  He hopped up to join her. As they moved together toward the back of the platform, away from the pressing crowds. Dani had a vague sense that something was different here. Was the clock tower shorter
than it used to be? Or its face shaped differently? She couldn’t remember exactly. Oh well. She shrugged slightly.

  Anders interrupted her momentary puzzlement and asked her quietly, “Find out anything?”

  “Yes, actually.” She, too, lowered her voice. “Something pretty big. Did you?”

  “I looked into the question of where the money is going. If your theory is correct about the anonymous money being blackmail money—”

  “I think we can be sure of that, after what I found today,” Dani interjected.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. A string of tube cars pulled into the station. She watched to the right while Anders watched to the left for one they could claim for just the two of them. Not this time. There would be another in a few minutes.

  “So where is the money going?” she prompted him.

  “Well, it isn’t necessary for the general operating expenses of the institute. It’s being shuffled aside into a Research and Development account.”

  Dani felt an unexpected sense of relief. She hadn’t realized it, but she had had a nagging worry that her job was only possible because of illicit gains. “So we’re not minions of a criminal mastermind?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A criminal mastermind might still be running the place.” He grinned at her. “Do you want to work for a criminal mastermind?”

  “Not particularly. Criminal masterminds aren’t my type.”

  “No? What is your type, out of curiosity?” His tone was light, but his eyes avoided hers when she glanced over at him. Was there the hint of another question beneath the teasing inquiry? She couldn’t be sure. She decided to ignore it.

  “For an employer?” She matched his tone. “Why? Do you know someplace I can put in an order and get one ready-made?”

  “If I did, would I be working in a place that barely acknowledges my existence?”

  “You might, if you had reasons for wanting to go unnoticed!” Dani countered.

  “Speaking of that, what did you find?”

  She glanced around to be sure no one was in earshot. “I found an object with a blank.”

  “And you checked the before-and-after parts?”

  “Yes. The before part was nothing. Just people walking by, snippets of conversation. But the after part was definitely blackmail material, and I can only assume the missing part was too.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to share the details with him. Dr. Brant was no anonymous victim. She was someone they both knew.

  He nodded. “So your idea was solid. Is the blackmail material anything we should report to someone?”

  She considered, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not until we know more about what’s going on here, anyway. We don’t even know who we could report it to safely.”

  “Then don’t tell me any of the details.” He paused and looked at her carefully. “Unless you need to, you know, for yourself.”

  She laughed, a little startled. “Is it that obvious?”

  He had looked down at his worktablet, but she caught the noncommittal smile before it shifted to a slight frown. “But here’s another question. Can you tell me when the blank might have been made? Give me a date for a scan that worked and one that didn’t?”

  “Actually, yes. It was intact on Monday, when I scanned it the first time. The first time it could have been converted and used was Monday evening.”

  He skimmed quickly through his figures. “Nothing. The last deposit was early Monday.”

  “Well, the thing is …” she paused.

  “What?” he prompted.

  “This person might not be being blackmailed for money.”

  “No? What else? Control?”

  “I think so.”

  He had come to the same conclusion she had, without even having seen the specifics. She thought through what she had witnessed in the observation box that afternoon. Every time she saw Dr. Brant at the institute, she was subdued and distant. But in the garden she seemed vulnerable and open. Granted, she was with a good friend. But was her daily resistance to any kind of casual conversation a real preference? Dani had always thought so. But now she wondered. Was it a byproduct of tight control?

  A new set of tube cars slid into the station, whooshing almost silently into place. The platform had almost cleared with the previous set, so it was a simple matter to claim one.

  “I have a little experiment I’m going to try, tomorrow,” she told him after they got settled in. “I might be able to find out more.”

  “Sounds good. Listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you: Have you given any thought to what we should do with this information, assuming we find something really conclusive?”

  She hesitated. Was it time to introduce Anders to Kat and Marak?

  “I’m really not sure what to do about it. But I’ve got a couple of friends that would have some ideas. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Nothing I can’t cancel.”

  “I’ll try to set up a meeting, if you’re willing. How do I reach you if it works out?” she asked.

  He gave her his contact information just as the tube slid into place at his stop. “See you tomorrow!”

  “Or later tonight!” she called after him. Then she sat back to think.

  19

  Recollection

  SEEBAK LABORATORY, Vashon Island, WA. 1720, Thursday, June 8, 2215.

  “Okay, Lexil. Are you ready? The disturbance is on the move again.” Doc had superimposed a map on the time disturbance graphic and was studying the screen intently. For the moment, all other research was forgotten.

  “Where is it?” Lexil reminded himself that what they called a “disturbance” was, in this case, almost certainly a person. A person whose actions were changed as a result of the unusually large original disturbance they had noted the day before.

  “Departing from the institute, heading across the bay.”

  “On the tube, then. Can you tell which line?”

  “The blue line, I think. Heading toward First Hill.”

  “I’ll catch the green line and head that direction. The disturbance will get there first, I’m sure.” Lex grabbed a hip bag and his worktablet and walked with long, easy strides toward the door.

  “We’ll keep in contact, and if it moves again, I’ll direct you to intercept it. “

  Lexil hesitated. “You’re sure you have no specific instructions for me? I feel pretty blind, going out there without a plan.”

  “First order of the day is just to investigate. You’re a scientist. Observe with as little interaction as possible.”

  “I’d still like to try the insertion experiment, if we get a chance.”

  “We’ll see how it looks, after you make contact with it. Him? Her? Well, you’ll find out the gender of this ‘disturbance’ soon enough.” Doc grinned. “Enjoy yourself.”

  “Yeah, right. Here I go!” Lexil left, muttering to himself. Doc was getting a little too much enjoyment out of his discomfort, he thought. Granted, he’d been eager to get out and do some real field work for a long time, and he’d even asked for this opportunity last night. But he really felt that anybody would be a little tentative given the totally untested nature of this whole deal. Being on the cutting edge of research had its definite disadvantages.

  Then he smiled. It was an adventure. What he might discover today! He let out a whoop, grateful that the road to the nearest tube station was mostly deserted. A hundred years ago, there’d have been ground cars along this road and he’d have garnered some questioning looks.

  Vashon Island was one of the few places left in the Seattle area where a person could still find towering fir trees, flourishing madronas, and gentle streams. While the urgent need for housing in the more urban areas had stacked apartments high and squeezed homes together, the quirky community on Vashon had continued to hold out.

  It wasn’t just the Seebak house and lab combo that nestled among the trees. Most homes, except those along the shore or close to the main highway along the length of
the island, still had a green belt buffer to separate them.

  Lexil remembered the West Seattle neighborhood he had come from, over ten years earlier. Houses were spaced no more than seven meters apart. Side windows were always tinted, to give a measure of privacy, both upstairs and downstairs. Some of the older homes had been divided into quaint, multi-level apartment units. His parents, both professionals, had been wealthy enough to afford a house without an upstairs apartment.

  What a different life that had been! His mother was the consummate hostess, gracious and caring. His dad was a little more reserved, but appreciated his mother’s social ease. He had come to know all his neighbors at a very young age because they were frequent dinner guests and often joined his family for afternoon barbecues on the weekends in fair weather.

  In contrast, on Vashon, he interacted with none of the neighbors. He knew other people on the island, of course, because he had enrolled in Vashon High School for his last two years. Most of his studies there had been through the telestudy program, because it was more convenient to his work with Doc in the lab, but there were the mandatory group sessions and lots of online interaction. He probably knew a hundred or so other kids—now young adults—his age. There had even been a girlfriend for a while. Their relationship had ended on a friendly note, but he had completely lost touch with her in the intervening years. He had heard she was married and had a little girl and another on the way.

  Funny that she came to mind just now. Well, she was his only serious relationship. He didn’t count the casual flings he had enjoyed during his college years. By that time, his work had become so interesting he hadn’t invested the kind of time or attention that a strong relationship had needed. To be honest, he had probably been an irritation to those girls, and he didn’t blame them at all for breaking it off after just a few weeks. He wasn’t a very good relationship risk. He missed it, though, he had to admit. What he really needed was a partner, someone he could share his work with.