Time of the Draig

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  After basic, she had been transferred to research and assigned to UNK005 for weapons development. Boomer was supposed to be sent immediately to the front in the Middle East post-basic. It was the only time she had gone to her father for help within the military. It was an abuse to ask the four-star general for something like a change in placement. But her dad had quickly approved the idea; he said he liked knowing someone was always going to be watching her back given the nature of her research.

  Samantha glanced up at the sergeant and back to Captain Chandler before she answered. “Yes.” She had to look away as Sergeant Michaels puffed out his enormous chest in an effort to look more intimidating. The fake cough covered her chuckle as Chandler took an involuntary step backward. “You should go to your quarters and study the material. We can go over any questions you may have in the morning.”

  Chandler put the flash drive in his pocket and walked to the door. Without looking up from her desk, Samantha asked, “Is there something you forgot, Captain?”

  He turned and stared mutely before raising his hand in salute. She returned the formality and pretended to focus on the computer. As soon the door closed behind him, the restrained laughter finally broke free.

  Boomer stepped in front of the desk. “I don’t think the captain liked me. Do think you it’s because I’m black?”

  How could he possibly say that with no smile? she wondered before she lost all her forced composure and laughed until tears formed in her eyes. Finally able to respond, Samantha said, “Sure, that must be it. His reaction had nothing to do with your imposing body language, the I’d-love-to-kill-you glare in your eyes, or your general largeness, Boomer.”

  He pondered the response. “Just checking.” The smile broke free when he asked, “Are you done pissing on your territory?”

  “Okay, so it was a bit over the top making him salute, but I couldn’t resist, Boomer.” With a glance at the camera, she added, “You should sit while you can. Besides, looking up at you makes my neck hurt.” She smiled as he took the chair in front of her desk. She added for the benefit of whomever monitored the lab, “No one can expect me to be pleased to have someone else in my lab. Bringing Captain Chandler up to speed is only going to slow my research.”

  Boomer replied, “We need to talk.”

  Some matters held a universal truth: no good conversation ever started with those words. Samantha held his gaze. “Let me change into fatigues first.” She rose from the desk and walked to the other keypad in the lab. As she held her thumb to the pad, the door to their private quarters opened.

  The plain room contained the basics: two beds, dresser, bathroom, and an efficiency kitchen. Somewhere on sub-level seven she had more luxurious quarters, but they were too far from the lab and too far from Boomer. The makeshift quarters served their needs just fine, and it allowed her and Boomer the comfort of knowing the lab was secure.

  The dress whites landed on the bed. There was no reason to hang them in the closet because she would never wear them again. The fatigues were all she would need. In that there was a choice: desert camouflage or the green version. She chose the green, even though the base was buried in the desert.

  As she sat on the bed lacing her boots, she noted the full packs in the corner. Boomer had done as she had asked, but there had been no doubt in her mind he would. They were together in all things.

  Samantha rose and opened the top drawer of the dresser. She caressed the dog tags as she stared at the Marine Corps-issued material. Once there had been a time when the tags meant the world to her, but now they were a reminder of what had been lost. A heavy sigh was as close to an emotion as she could muster. With a final touch, she said a silent goodbye to the reminder of what was no longer.

  On a beautiful September morning, the world she knew changed forever. Terrorists destroyed the World Trade Center, most of the Pentagon, and the White House within three hours. The next day the whole of New York City was obliterated from the map, as was Washington D.C., by nuclear bombs. The east coast was still unlivable due to the radiation. With most of the government dead, the military had taken control and never let go.

  When these events took place, she had been stationed in Germany as part of an international think tank to begin studying UNK005. Her father had her transferred to the base in Arizona immediately, even though it didn’t “officially” exist. UNK005 came with her. Boomer was supposed to be sent to the action. It had been a simple matter of hacking into the main system and changing his orders. Her dad had other concerns while he tried to maintain order and keep martial law from getting out of control. Besides, that learning experience served her well, as she had had to do the same thing four other times. There was no way she would let anything happen to Boomer.

  Five years later, the war still raged. Theorists were right when they said no one would win World War III. Maybe there was a country that would survive and go on, but it wasn’t hers. The military press releases always put a positive spin on everything, as morale needed to be high. She had hacked into enough classified data to know the war was over; the former USA had lost, even if they hadn’t surrendered.

  Samantha sighed and breathed in the stale recycled air. Her line of thinking only broke her heart and made her miss her parents even more. Her mom had died in the initial attack on the Pentagon. Her dad’s transport plane had been destroyed eighteen months earlier, supposedly by enemy missiles, something no one could prove. The general was too outspoken against the new regime. He wanted elected officials in office, not a power-hungry military. She assumed he had spoken up one too many times.

  As she reached for the door release pad, Samantha gazed longingly at the bed. It had been too many nights since she had slept more than a handful of hours. Her shoulders squared as determination again filled her being. She knew the planned course of action was what her father would ask of her because they had once had the theoretical conversation. While the risks were immense, there was little to no choice. Something needed to be changed, and he had been right-UNK005 had no business in their world. The object in question was the only reason the whole of the country hadn’t been destroyed. Every other remaining power wanted its untapped potential for its own.

  Her hand fell away from the door as she turned, and she took the fourteen steps to the kitchen. She grabbed the last item in the freezer, one homemade blueberry muffin. The canned blueberries had cost her months of saved ration points. A horrible day in the lab had resulted in a baking fiesta. Sometimes control came from manipulating the simple things.

  She smirked at the solitary item. Boomer had lousy control. There had been forty-eight of them two weeks when she made them. No sense saving the last one because there won’t be anyone here to eat it tomorrow.

  As she entered the lab, Boomer smiled at the item in her hand. He knew what it signified: the last day here. Samantha sat at the desk where she had spent the last four years, ten months, and sixteen days. Guilt washed over her before she made the conscious decision to send it away.

  “What do we need to talk about?” she asked with a deliberately flat voice, knowing they were being monitored.

  Boomer answered, “Transfer orders came in for me today. Tomorrow morning at 0800 I’m to report for transport.”

  “Where?” she asked, without betraying the fear the orders brought.

  “It just says to report for transfer, not where,” he answered without inflection.

  She knew no printed destination usually meant a one-way ticket to where the latest round of ground fighting was taking place. Once again her conscience nagged her. Boomer deserved a choice. In order to offer him one, however, they needed to talk freely. With a click to the mouse, the quiet lab blared with heavy guitars and percussion. The singer crooned about getting a bullet blasted through his head; she understood the feeling. While she truly feared little, the bullet would find her head if she fail
ed in her secret mission. But then, the bullet would eventually find her simply for not delivering the results the United Forces demanded.

  As the violent music soothed something deep inside, she was finally ready for the conversation. Samantha looked at Boomer and was certain no one could overhear their silent talk; they both had become very adept at lip reading given the circumstances. She mouthed, “It’s up to you. Do you want to come with me, or do you want me to transfer you somewhere safe?”

  Boomer immediately mouthed, “Nowhere is safe, and we both know it. Besides, I told you I was coming with you.” The smile crossed his face as he stated his pledge, “I’ve got your back.”

  “And I’ve got yours,” she replied immediately. There was no doubt Boomer would come with her. However, the plan was shaky at best and riddled with risk.

  “Is everything ready?” he asked silently with a nervous glance to the metal poles.

  “It will be before you are reported late for transfer. I just want to double check the calculations one more time,” Samantha said as she rose from the desk and walked to the far computer bank. Her hand reached for the control panel that held the safe. Entering the access code, the hidden door sprung open. Her hand reached for UNK005. The softball-size object offered its usual light vibration as she held it in her palm.

  She held the sphere up to the light and marveled at it. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be a perfect sphere made of amber. But it was so much more. The black swirling material inside, while still of unknown origin, contained what seemed to be an endless amount of information and energy unlike anything the world had ever known. She had only scratched the proverbial surface of what she could learn. It was still more than any other human being had ever done.

  UNK005, or unknown object number five, had been found buried in the desert near Phoenix almost twenty years earlier when the military dug the foundation for the base. It had traveled the world and stumped every scientist and archaeologist her father had brought in for answers. Carbon dating hadn’t worked, and no laser could even scratch the surface, much less open it for study.

  The memory surfaced clearly in her mind. Her father had been stationed in Southeast Asia, and Samantha had been visiting on her first leave. One night at dinner he opened the case and asked her what she thought. It had vibrated for her then, too, which was something unique. When she told him, his face brightened. Dad told her to keep quiet about that part and promised he would see her assigned to the international project. His lips had twitched into a smirk as he said, “I think it likes you.”

  She shook aside the memory and glanced at the clock, 0930 hours. Not much time to work with, but even that was amusing. For better or worse, time was hers to control.

  The object went into the case next to her mainframe computer as she prepared to work. Boomer didn’t need the order to stand and block her from the prying eye of the security camera. He did so unbidden.

  As soon as his massive frame effectively hid her from sight, the real work began. Her private laptop slid out from its protective drawer along with UNK005’s little brother. There was the secret, the part only she, Boomer, and her late father knew. There was more than one object. The little one was the size of a golf ball and looked the same. It didn’t have the same amount of raw power, but the two together were a complete circuit.

  Samantha spoke more for her own benefit as the singer crooned about people of the sun, not that she had seen or felt the warmth of the sun in months. “We need to prevent these from ever being found. I have the original map stored on my computer, showing exactly where the items were found in 1986. We are going to arrive two years prior and find it first. It will be up to us to find a better hiding place.”

  She continued thinking out loud. “We will arrive in Kansas City and travel by train to Denver, then rent a car, and drive the remaining distance. The objects were only five feet deep in the ground. We should be able to rent the equipment we need at any local hardware store.”

  “Our fake IDs and passports are in my computer case. The gold and silver coins tucked within the case can be sold easily. Old records indicate a coin collector who lived in Kansas City at that time with a storefront on the edge of downtown, and I have the address,” Samantha finished as she again silently thanked her father for his vision. Immediately after 9/11, he had turned his life’s savings into gold and silver coins, the only substances that still carried value.

  The smaller version of UNK005 sat next to her laptop. She placed an electrode on the large one and another to the small one and then connected them wirelessly to her temple with a final electrode. She set the main computer to run useless algorithms and began the real work on her laptop.

  With a final glance at Boomer, she said, “If you want to change your mind, say so now, no hard feelings. I’m planning on nine separate time jumps before Kansas City, 1984. There can be no chance of tracking us, and so many things could go wrong . . .”

  “Got your back, so get to work. And as soon as you’re not paying attention, I’m changing the music. There is only so much of this anarchy crap I can handle.”

  Her angst faded as her mind activated UNK005. It seemed to welcome her presence, and she was lost in the final calculations.

  Chapter 2

  It took all her concentration to lift the finger that signaled for one more minute. Samantha’s fingers flew over the laptop keyboard as she entered the last of the algorithm. The mass had to be correct or they would never make the nine jumps she needed to feel safe. Even lost in the programming she knew the word “safe” had no place in the context of time shifting.

  Again Boomer’s voice rang out in the laboratory. “Major Sykes, it has been way too long. If you don’t disconnect, I will do it myself.”

  Her fingers hit enter for the last time, and she reached for the electrode that held her connected to UNK005. A warm hand gripped her shoulders as she slumped forward. Boomer is right. It was too long. She sighed as she forced her back to straighten behind the desk. With a hand over the one that held her upright, she said, “I’m okay, really, I’m okay. How long was I in?”

  “It’s 0600 on Tuesday, Sam,” Boomer answered. “You were in the system for over twenty hours. I hope you were done because I’m not letting you go in again for at least eight hours.”

  She smiled at the command in the voice. “Sergeant Michaels, you are overstepping your place. I still outrank you. Besides, after a quick shower, it’s time to go.” She cocked her head to the side and asked, “Earth, Wind and Fire? Nice music choice.” It was enough to make her want to change her landing date to September if only to honor the melody.

  Boomer looked down and asked, “Why do we need nine jumps?”

  “We probably don’t. I’ve done a great job submitting only falsified data to the colonel. It should take Captain Chandler at least a year to duplicate my work. By the time they can begin looking for us, no one will have any idea where to start, though we will leave a residual quantum trail. We will have jumped through eight other chronological points and geographical locations before our final destination. It’s why we complete the journey via conventional travel.” Samantha added, “By then it shouldn’t matter. If we are successful, this time line, with all its horrors, should no longer exist.”

  “Are you sure, Sam? Every time you say that I can see the panic in those green eyes . . . and the doubt.”

  He knew her too well. She wouldn’t allow the military to use time travel, for fear of causing chaos in time, but she was about to do the same thing. The only question was whether or not removing UNK005 from the world was enough to prevent the world from battling over its power.

  Boomer interrupted her thoughts. “I believe in you, and you know that. Given the state of the world, we can’t do worse.”

  Only Boomer could make something as complex as changing the fabric of reality into a simple ques
tion of morality. She answered, “Okay, we go in thirty.” Samantha gave her braided head a pat. If she was going to potentially unravel the fabric of the universe, she decided she was going to do it with clean hair.

  That thought died as the door to the lab opened from the hallway. In half a heartbeat, Boomer was on his feet, shielding her, with his handgun aimed at the door. He demanded, “State your business, or I will shoot.”

  “At ease, Sergeant,” the colonel commanded. “Holster that weapon immediately and turn off the damn music.”

  Samantha sprang into quick action as Boomer again used his frame to hide her from sight. The laptop was placed in its carrying case, and UNK005’s little brother was also hidden in the bag. The electrode was again placed on the surface of the small sphere, while the other was placed back on her temple. After making certain another electrode remained firm on the larger UNK005 and that the computer was still on, she turned off the music and sat ready to face the intrusion.

  As the normally quiet room filled with eight handcuffed men wearing large packs, the colonel, Captain Chandler, and two guards armed with automatic weaponry, she asked, “Is there a reason you are emptying the brig into my lab?”

  The colonel answered with a grin. “These men have volunteered for duty.”

  She made a quick scan of the so-called volunteers. All wore the uniform of the United Forces, and she assumed they were all scheduled for death. Military tribunals no longer existed, but then right and wrong had also disappeared. If you failed to serve, your execution was a given. In the line of men, she was surprised to see a face she knew. The captain smiled as she met his gaze. “Captain Harrison,” she said in surprise. The man nodded in acknowledgment.