Sergi made all the preparations and entered the exact location coordinates where the ray would hit, as well as determined the exact power of the energy needed to transfer the dog back to that particular year, on that particular day. He timed the ray to hit in exactly two hours, which would give him enough time to get to the nearby bridge, the perfect location for the inertial motion, as the free fall would be perfect at that place. As for the fate of the dog, the animal had been trained to take the watch off of his collar, and Sergi only hoped the creature would find a better life in 2018. As soon as the dog hit the place, an extra beam would be sent to the device, and both the device and mineral would disintegrate, leaving no trace. There would be no error, and it would be a direct hit, thanks to the satellite tracking system built into the device.
He hugged the dog, strapped an unloaded gun on him with plastic tape, and tied the watch lightly around his neck. They went to the bridge, where he had already carefully marked the exact location. As soon as the ray hit the watch, Sergi planned to push the dog of the bridge. It felt cruel, but Sergi knew that science often required great sacrifices, and he was willing to make them to prove himself right, no matter the cost. At exactly two a.m., the light hit the watch, and the dog was pushed off the bridge with a yelp and promptly disappeared in midair. Sergi quickly ran to his car, turned on his laptop, and searched for any security news from the stadium at Super Bowl 2018. He couldn’t believe it when he read the headlines: “Stranded Dog Strapped with Gun Found on Super Bowl Eve. Police Still Searching for Clues.” No one had any answers, and everything happened at the exact time Sergi had planned.
“I knew it!” he screamed, proud of himself. “Where are you bastards now? Go on and laugh, you pathetic, ignorant fools! Laugh all you want to, but I told you! I told you I could travel back in time!”
Sergi was proud of what he had done, and now that his dog had made it, it was his turn. All he had to do was to prepare the responsibilities required of each of his chosen men from the past. He would then give them to a Japanese man whom he knew was an exact fit for the role—a man named Yaturo Hitari.
Sergi prepared the files, filling them with all the details and resources they would need, laying out their responsibilities. Their lives were an open book for him; it was just a matter of filling in the spaces. They would be like his puppets, and he would be pulling all the strings.
Sergi was confident that Hitari would carry the burden well. He decided he had to meet with Hitari at the perfect moment, a time when Yaturo was elated and feeling positive. The grand opening of the steel factory was the perfect opportunity for such an important rendezvous. It was the largest factory of its kind in Asia that time. He entered the date of May 17, 1967, as that would give him a full day to make his arrangements. He then entered the exact coordinates for his location; it would be in a secluded park in Kyoto, early morning. From there, he would go to a hotel and rest a bit, then meet Hitari the following day. Sergi allowed himself four days to finish the meeting. He would be brought back to his present date and entered the exact location he would be in for the mineral activation. He chose the Kiyomizu-dera Temple as the location of his travel back, as it there was a perfect area he could plunge from to achieve the necessary inertial motion.
All he took with him was the file, some money, and his beloved toothpicks; he always had toothpicks in his mouth—a habit he’d picked up from a young age. There wasn’t a moment when he didn’t have one in his hand.
Everything was set, and he was confident that he would be successful. He arrived at the bridge site and waited for the right moment. The beam hit, and he jumped. It all happened in a flash, and there he was, in the middle of the park, standing alone on a warm day in Kyoto. Other than a mild headache the first day, everything went well.
It was a busy day at the Hitari Steel Factory, and the Japanese were very proud of the achievement, as people from all sectors of life were present. Everything was perfectly arranged, and Sergi could see Hitari from a distance. He was busy greeting everyone and talking to them. Clearly, it had to be the best day of his life. Little did he know that what he would find out later was far more important.
Sergi waited for the right moment to approach Hitari, when he saw him standing alone with a glass of wine in his hand. He approached Hitari and congratulated him on the opening, then requested that they talk in private, as he had something very important to tell him. Hitari was reluctant at first, but he was kind enough to take him to his office on the third floor of the factory. It offered a beautiful view of the entire factory.
Sergi was very direct and to the point. He began talking about world power and giving control to the youth to change history. He knew Hitari was involved with several movements during college, but Sergi felt he wasn’t having the impact on Hitari that he had planned. Hitari didn’t seem very interested. Sergi had already established a Plan B, and since Hitari didn’t seem to want to give him time to explain, he took an envelope out of his coat and asked him to have a look at it. He told him if he was interested, they should meet at the Kiyomizu-dera Temple three days later. He told Hitari to be there at exactly two p.m. and to come alone, or he wouldn’t get the answers he would be seeking. The moment Hitari took the envelope, Sergi was convinced that his plan had worked; he knew there wasn’t even the slightest chance that Hitari would ignore his fate.
Sergi spent the next two days resting. His headache was getting worse, and he was very nauseous. He knew it wasn’t from something he’d eaten. He simply felt ill, and a visit to a local doctor didn’t prove much, as all his vitals were normal. Since they couldn’t find any cause for his discomfort, the doctor related it to stress, and Sergi felt that could be the issue. After all, it was very stressful pushing his dog off a bridge, traveling through time, and making plans to change the world forever.
When the time came, Sergi went to the temple early and arrived there around one p.m. He checked the area where he had entered the coordinates for his travel back to the future, his present later that night, and all seemed normal. He would have to sneak in one way or another after the temple visiting hours were over.
Around a quarter till two p.m., Sergi saw Hitari from a distance, looking anxious and confused. Sergi waited for it to be exactly two p.m. and then went to talk to him. Hitari seemed like a raging bull, a person in need of answers. He was all fired up, and that was exactly how Sergi wanted him to be. After some give-and-take, Hitari’s interest in the whole thing was undeniable; he was ready to take responsibility.
Hitari offered to take Sergi somewhere private, but before leaving, Hitari wanted to pay some respect to the temple. Sergi had to take off his sunglasses and remove the toothpick out of his mouth. He couldn’t throw it on the floor, so he just pushed it into a bag he was carrying and joined Hitari in paying some respect. Sharing Hitari’s beliefs that moment was the least Sergi could do for the man who was going to spend his life carrying out his plans.
Their meeting took many hours, and it was very tiring for Sergi. He felt so sick at times that he had to excuse himself. He instructed Hitari how to handle the files he gave him, but he was sure Hitari would understand exactly what he had to do and when to do it. He had to follow a strict time schedule, and Sergi insisted that it should be followed to the last word. He assured Yaturo several times that it was all about saving lives and changing the world. Sergi told him that without it, the world would be a darker, crueler place. He knew he could play on those cards, for those were Hitari’s weak points, and he was sure Hitari would follow every word written in the files and would listen to his last wish as well and carry it out without hesitation.
Just as he was about to leave, Hitari asked Sergi a question, a question he had anticipated, and was well prepared for. He wanted to know his name. He couldn’t give his real name, so he offered the name of the closest thing to him, closer than any human being: his dog and savior, Alexi.
The plunge from the temple worked later that night, and Sergi was back in his office,
in 2034. His illness was progressing rapidly. Not only was he nauseous, but he was beginning to cough up blood. He was confident that it was merely a side effect of the radiation, and he decided he should have done more trials before traveling himself. The radiation might very well prove fatal, but he had seen his plan through, and he didn’t care what happened to him.
He needed some rest, but he had to make at least one more visit back in time—a visit to a person who would play a crucial role in changing the past, a person he didn’t mention to Hitari. He had to visit that person himself. He had to visit his father, and he decided to do so on the day of his own birth, the day Sergi came into the world.
He took a look at his office. He knew he had to destroy everything; it was his discovery and his alone, and he did not want anyone else to benefit from it or take credit for all his hard work. He took out the files, burned them all, and deleted all the memory that contained all his years of research. Then, it was time for Sergi’s last adventure.
Despite his pain and weakness, the experience was unique; it was more than amazing. Sergi was looking at himself through the mirror at the hospital, standing in the corridor near the nursery, looking at all the babies who had just been born. He was waiting for his dad Dmitri to come look at his newborn son. When Dmitri arrived, Sergi approached him and said, “Your son seems smart, Dmitri.”
“Excuse me? You look familiar. Have I met you somewhere? How do you know my name?” Dmitri asked.
“That’s not important now, Professor,” Sergi replied.
“Again, how do you know my name? And why are you here?” asked Dmitri nervously.
“I don’t have time to talk. Please read this, and if you are convinced, please follow its words. Other than that, there are two things I want from you, Mr. Armanov. Teach your son how to hunt at a young age, even before he goes to school. He needs strong arms. Secondly, be sure your son becomes a physics genius. You only have to lead the way for him,” concluded Sergi, and then he ran away before his father could catch him. He knew his father would do as he had asked, and what he had written would surely convince him.
His headaches became intolerably painful, but he felt he was fulfilling his destiny. He knew he was close to dying. He took off the watch, removed the minerals from it, and put them in his pockets. Then, he smashed the watch into pieces and scattered them about as he was walking.
Sergi made the decision before traveling back to the current date. He knew he was about to die, and he knew when and where he wanted to do so—at the place where he had found those minerals. His father’s mining plant had made it all possible. When he reached the place, it looked different. That came as no surprise, because the mining hadn’t started yet, and nothing had yet been discovered there. It would take years for them to start working in the area, and he walked around until he found what he thought was where they would establish their findings. The weather was cold and snowy, and he eventually reached an icy lake. “It should be around here somewhere,” he said to himself between bloody coughs.
He walked carefully on the ice until he heard a crack and felt it breaking beneath his feet. Below him, the icy layer shattered, and he was quickly sucked into the deep, freezing waters.
Epilogue
Tuesday was a special day for the retirement home, the day of the week when most of the residents’ families brought life to the place by visiting their loved ones. For English, as his friends at the home called him, it was just like any other day: breakfast of a cheese sandwich and coffee at eight a.m., then out in the garden for a nice stretch, weather permitting.
Ever since he’d arrived at the place more than three years prior, no one had ever visited him. He’d spent a long time in a coma, and he couldn’t remember a thing. The hospital had no other choice than to send him to a state-run facility when he woke up and didn’t fit back in the daily life, and the residents and staff there had become his family because he couldn’t remember who he really was. On Tuesdays, he shared in the visits with some of their loved ones, but then he wandered off to watch TV alone, passing the hours away in lonely desperation.
He was watching the news when they started talking about a Russian billionaire who had been missing for weeks. The maid who passed by every week had filed a missing persons report, but the police had no clues of the man’s whereabouts. His name didn’t ring a bell, but when the news showed his photo, English felt something, some slight twang of recognition. His head began to spin, and he started to see things: a young boy and a dog running in a park. He was holding his head, wailing in pain, when one of the nurses came running. The staff rushed him to his room and gave him some sedatives to calm him down. It had never happened to him before.
Later that night, the same thing happened again, and he began seeing more vivid flashes. He saw the child and the dog again, and then he remembered the child calling a name. “Alexi?” he said aloud. “Yes, Alexi!”
He asked one of the staffers what she knew about his past and what had happened to him, but all she could tell him was that he had suffered a severe head injury more than twenty-some years ago and had gone into a coma as a result, his treatment was all taken care of by an anonymous person to keep him alive. He’d woken up in a Russian hospital and was admitted at the home since he could not remember anything about who he was or where he was from. They called him English because of his native language since he could not remember his name.
More and more flashes came to him as the days wore on. In every one, he saw the same park, the same child, and the same dog. He heard the name “Alexi!” being called over and over again, and then one day, more came back to him.
He didn’t tell anyone about his memory gradually returning, as it was still unclear to him at that point who he really was. At the same time, he tried to remain calm, and he didn’t want any added pressure from anyone. In time, he remembered why he spoke English. He was an American—an American named John Teddy.
He started taking long walks in the garden, as it was helping him piece the strange memories of his past together. Every day, things became less fuzzy for him, and he began to understand himself more, to know who he really was. He remembered pieces here and there, including some memories about his son, his wife, Japan, and an odd little man named Yaturo.
He remembered the day of his injury well. He’d been shot, but it was him who wanted to kill that boy. But why would I want to kill a child? And who shot me? So many crucial pieces of the story were still missing.
One thing was for sure: He had to get out of that facility one way or another. One thing John hadn’t lost was his curious nature, and he had to search for himself. He had no documents, and it was impossible for them to let him go, but he had to escape, so he did so the very next day.
All he had in the line of personal possessions was a watch. It looked expensive, and he assumed it must have been a gift or something. The watch was quickly pawned for a meager $900, but that was enough for him to reach Moscow and buy him time. He had an underlying instinct that he needed to leave the country. Somehow, he knew Russia wasn’t safe for him.
He met several people in Moscow who offered to help, but all wanted money in advance, and he had nothing to offer them. Finally, one of them contacted John in private. The stranger wanted to help not out of generosity, but because he felt there was something special about John. He teased, “I know you’re rich. I am sure you have money hidden somewhere. I‘ll help you get anywhere you need to go, as long as you promise to pay me right when you figure out how wealthy you really are.”
John replied, “Get me to Stockholm, and you’ll get more than you want.”
A few days later, John was in Stockholm. The bank was surprised to see him after all those years, and his money had increased greatly from all the accrued interest. The contents in the safety deposit box, which required his fingerprints to open, gave him a clear idea of what had happened. It was a smart move to leave a notebook behind recounting the events leading up to shooting.
J
ohn wondered how Sergi lived after the attack. Where is he? Is he really missing, or is he even alive? How did he do it? How did he travel back in time? All those questions started to build up in his mind. He didn’t have any answers, but for once, he didn’t care. He had already lost years of his life. He had tried to change in the past, and that had gotten him nowhere except into a coma. John decided that he was powerless to do anything, and his will was weaker than Yaturo’s. All he wanted was to know what happened to his son. He had to find Adam.
It wasn’t difficult to get a new American passport, as his old passport and an explanation for his long disappearance was enough. John was eager to go back to the States and to find his son.
Interestingly enough, Adam was working as an instructor at the university, teaching Japanese. He seemed to be doing well. John thought of revealing his identity to his son, but he decided there was no sense in complicating Adam’s life any further. He was just happy to see that Adam had survived and was doing well for himself, and he was happier that Adam had chosen to study and teach Japanese. John could only assume that was because he loved and missed his father so much and that he had always been on Adam’s mind, and that made him feel wonderful.
Other than being happy for Adam, John wasn’t happy being back in the States. His life on American soil had died over two decades ago—the day he found Susan in bed with another man. He had a few years left, and he wanted a peaceful end. He had plenty of money, and all he had to do was take a plane to Kyoto. In order for him to begin a new life, he had to end what was left of his old one, and there was nowhere better to do that than the beautiful place he’d claimed as his home so many years ago.
The Clout of Gen Page 12