Persistence of Vision

by Liesel K. Hill

  Marcus hung his head and sighed. “And then there was you. Doc did some tests and realized that roughly one year of your memories were gone—the entire time you’d spent with us. You had another history you were born to, meant to be part of—you needed to be returned to it. In plucking you from your own time, the plan was always to take you back when we achieved success. Your memories of us were gone. It was decided that the easiest, most ethical thing to do was to put you back in the same time we took you from—when you were in Vegas.”

  Marcus raised his hazel eyes to hers, and she couldn’t have looked away if her life depended on it.

  “Maggie, I want you to know that it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. None of us got to say good-bye. We never woke you up. You’d have just been confused and scared. So we sent you back. That was the last time I saw you before yesterday. It’s been about a year.”

  He continued to stare into her face for several seconds before blinking rapidly and looking down.

  “Two months ago, the collectives began coalescing again. There are once again only two large ones. And reports of the murders of individuals are reaching record numbers.

  “We did succeed, but only for a time. We hoped that it was that simple—that we’d succeeded with only one casualty. Now we know it was wishful thinking. How can you succeed against an enemy you don’t know anything about and can’t understand? We must try again, even though the team isn’t whole. At least we have you. We’re already looking for another to fill Colin’s role, and we’ll start over.”

  “How do you know this time will be any different?”

  He smiled. “We have a lot more information this time. We know how the Mastermind was controlling the collectives. We gathered information from the censors we planted, so we know a lot about their ships and the level of their technology. We have a good idea of what to expect.”

  He sounded optimistic, but Maggie felt hopeless.

  Marcus took her hands in his. They were warm and large enough that one could encompass both of hers. “I know it sounds bleak, but it’s not as bad as you think. Everyone’s happy to have you back. We’re family here. If we almost succeeded before, when we had no idea what we were doing, I have no doubt that we can succeed for good. We just have to put our hearts and minds and muscles into it.”

  She returned his smile, though she didn’t feel it. She hoped he was right.

  Chapter 9: The Team

  After eating, Marcus led Maggie out of the room. The corridors were dark, and lights turned on and then off again as they passed.

  “Why not just leave the lights on during the day?” Maggie asked, thinking of censor lights in her time that turned on with motion and didn’t turn off unless several minutes passed without movement.

  “To conserve energy. This place takes a lot of power to run.”

  “But how do they work?”

  “Like a lot of the basic needs of living, the lights in this place are always ready to work. Everything is in place for a complete circuit. I’m the one turning it on and off.”

  “How?”

  “With my thoughts. I complete the circuit in any area we’re in, so we can see where we’re going. When we’ve passed, I turn it off.”

  “But…you can do that just by thinking about it?”

  “So can you.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Maybe I could before, but that’s something I’ll have to relearn.”

  “You already did it once, Maggie.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  Marcus smiled over at her. “You just don’t realize you did.”

  “When?”

  “In the facilities this morning. I heard the water running in the sink.”

  “I just put my hands under the facet. Isn’t it on a censor?”

  “No. Not in the way you’re thinking. We don’t build handles and knobs anymore, because we can use our minds to do things. If water came out, it’s because you told it to.”

  “You make it sound like I commanded it or something. All I did was put my hands under the tap and hope for water.”

  “That’s often good enough. Maybe just by being here your brain is remembering things. Not your memories themselves but some sort of cellular memory.”

  Maggie was skeptical. “But if I don’t know what I’m doing, if I’m not concentrating, how can it just…work for me?”

  “The answer is partially in this facility. We’ve discovered that when unintelligent objects are manipulated by humans for a time, they become more docile, more pliable. If someone tries to manipulate an object that is, say, out in the forest and has never been worked on by a human, the object puts forth resistance.”

  “What kind of resistance?”

  “It’s hard to describe unless you’ve tried it yourself, but you can feel the molecules pushing against your influence. Not that it can’t be done, especially by someone experienced in manipulating unintelligent matter, but it’s harder.

  “The point is that we’ve all lived and worked here for years now. Where other objects might require a lot of concentration, this facility is very malleable to our wishes, so simply wishing for something is enough to bring it forth.”

  Maggie sighed. “If you say so.”

  “Here we are.”

  Marcus led her through a maze of hallways and intersections. After five minutes she was completely lost. They moved steadily up an incline and came to a long, straight corridor. At the end, which she sensed might be the highest point in the facility, was a double doorway, though with no doors, just like all the other rooms.

  “This is the team’s command center,” Marcus said, leading her through the doorway.

  Just as before, it seemed dark from the corridor, but once she stepped through, the room was well lit.

  It was as big as the entire main floor of her home. Consoles lined the perimeter, complete with chairs pushed up to them, but like the other equipment she’d seen, they were dead machines. The surfaces looked like solid metal with no colors, buttons, or anything to evidence a working machine.

  There were a few notable exceptions. Three chairs were occupied: two on the far side of the room and one ten feet from the door she and Marcus had just come through. Where there were people sitting, the consoles were alive with lights and designs.

  In the center of the room, two large tables had been pushed together to make an enormous one. It was piled with maps, books, and documents she couldn’t identify.

  When they entered, the people in the room turned toward them, and Maggie was immediately uncomfortable. When each of them saw her, they broke into broad smiles, said her name, and got up from their chairs. Obviously they knew her, but other than Karl and Doc, none of them looked familiar to her.

  Marcus stepped up beside her. “Yes, everyone. Maggie is here. She’s going to need everyone’s help filling in details, but try not to overwhelm her. I think I’ve already done an excellent job of that.”

  He smiled down at her, and she smiled back but didn’t bother denying it. What was the point?

  “Let’s start with introductions. You remember Doc and Karl from last night.”

  Maggie nodded at each of them.

  “How are you feeling today, Maggie?” Doc crossed the room and took her hand.

  “Still a bit confused, I’m afraid, but that’s all.”

  “No headaches? Nausea? Nightmares?”

  “…No.”

  Doc cocked an eyebrow at her hesitation. “If you have any trouble sleeping, let me know.”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Good to see you again, Maggie.” Karl’s grin was like a bear’s—so huge it was a little scary. He was all teeth.

  Marcus directed her toward the person who’d been sitting at the console a few feet from the door. He was standing now, staring at her intently. He had light-brown hair and a slightly freckled complexion. Maggie’s first impression was that he was way too thin, like a musician. His hair was slightly rockstar-ish too, but his eyes had depth, an
d his smile was beautiful.

  “Maggie, this is Clay.”

  Maggie stepped forward and took his outstretched hand. “Concealer?”

  He smiled. “That’s right.”

  His voice was soft; he was either very shy, very soft spoken, or both.

  Clay said nothing else, and Marcus steered Maggie around the center table to where the other two had been sitting at their consoles.

  One was a dark-haired woman in her late thirties. The wrinkles adorning the crannies of her face and the circles under her eyes relegated her to handsomeness, but as a younger woman, she must have been quite stunning. Her dark hair was bobbed and framed a full face, and her eyes were kind.

  “Maggie, this is Joan.”

  Joan’s smile was warm as she took Maggie’s hand. “It’s so good to see you again, Maggie.” Joan glanced from side to side. “It’s good to have some relief from all the testosterone around here.”

  The men all chuckled.

  “And finally, this is Dillon.”

  Maggie shook his hand but was confused. She’d not heard his name before. “And what do you do?”

  It was Marcus that answered. “Oh, he’s not named in the prophecy, but there are many here who aren’t. Just because they don’t have a direct role doesn’t mean they don’t believe in what we’re doing. They volunteer their time and skills for our cause.”

  “And believe me,” Doc chimed in, “we’re grateful for it.”

  Dillon couldn’t be much older than Maggie herself, but his hairline had receded enough to make him look quite bald in front. His bulk gave him extra skin around his eyes and mouth, making him look perpetually tired.

  “I am a security advisor, Maggie. I helped build Interchron, so I know its ins and outs and secret passages. We have a large security force, and I’m its leader.”

  Maggie nodded. “Nice to meet you.” She turned, letting her gaze light on each of them. “Nice to meet you all. Again.”

  They all chuckled or smiled and bobbed their heads at her.

  “Actually,” Dillon said, “I’m glad you’re here, Marcus. There’s a matter on the lower level that needs your attention.”

  Marcus turned to Joan. “What are you working on?”

  “Nothing pressing.”

  “If I go with Dillon, can you show Maggie around a bit? Try to re-familiarize her with everything?”

  “Of course.”

  “Take her down to meet some of the families. Talking with them will help her get a feel for the place. Tell her as many details of what happened before as you can remember. That goes for everyone.” His gaze swept around the room. “In lieu of a memory, we need to give Maggie as rounded a picture of what happened as possible. Remember she’s starting from scratch. She doesn’t know our technology or how things work, so be patient and answer her questions.”

  Everyone nodded as he spoke. Marcus turned to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Will you be okay without me for a while?”

  Maggie hoped her smile was confident. “Sure.”

  Marcus smiled back, laugh crinkles forming around his hazel eyes as he did, before turning to Dillon. “Lead the way.”

  “I’ll take you around the whole facility,” Joan said, “but would you like a quick tour of the command center first?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Sure.”

  “We all know how to do everything, but we each have our specialties. The station I’m at has censors that focus on the collectives and their activities. We usually call this the specs station because we can hone in on a specific place or hive and monitor their movements and activities.”

  Joan turned in her chair and motioned to where Clay was sitting. “Clay is monitoring NetworkInfo. We have several different networks of spies. They are all individuals, many with families living here in the compound. We’ve been unable to infiltrate the collectives, but we watch them closely and monitor their communications with each other.”

  Standing, Joan moved over to the area Dillon had been at. At some point his console had gone dead and Maggie hadn’t noticed, but as Joan sat and put her hands on the smooth, metallic surface, it came to life again, showing what looked like an interactive blueprint.

  “This shows us Interchron. From here we can monitor any part of the compound. We can superimpose scans for different substances or chemicals to tell if certain areas are affected by them. We can also overlay infrared to see where people are at all times. Things like that.”

  “So you have to touch the consoles to turn them on?”

  Joan’s eyes grew wide. After a moment of awkward silence, she said, “You really are a greenie at this.”

  “That’s gotta suck.” It was Karl. He was probably trying to mumble, but his voice was so loud and deep that it carried clearly to her.

  She looked over at him, but he was pretending to ignore her.

  “Don’t mind him,” Joan said. “He’s got a weird sense of humor.”

  Maggie ignored the deep, indignant huff from behind her.

  “The expression sucks is still around?”

  She couldn’t help but notice everyone’s speech patterns. They were speaking English, and she could understand them perfectly, but their words had a different sound than she was used to, like they were dragging out the ends of their words or just forming them differently than she did. She supposed the evolution of speech was to be expected, but this was the first time she’d heard any of them use that expression.

  Joan laughed when she realized what Maggie was asking.

  “Actually, no. He learned that from you the last time you were here. You kept saying that, and no one knew what you meant. Finally you taught us, and Karl hasn’t stopped saying it since.”

  Smiling, Maggie looked over at Karl again.

  He grinned and saluted her with two fingers. “You single-handedly preserved that figure of speech for posterity, Maggs.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes, noting how natural it felt to have him call her that. “Yeah, that’s what I want to be known for.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, everyone’s got to be known for something. You can’t pick and choose.”

  Joan laughed. Over against the opposite wall, Clay was working quietly, but Maggie could see that he too was grinning. Suddenly Maggie had a very real, disconcerting sense of being home.

  Chapter 10: Creature Comforts

  Interchron was a maze Maggie wasn’t sure she’d ever figure out. The entrance she’d used the previous night was not a main one. It was at the top of the mountain and, as it led to the corridor near the command center, was used mostly by the team.

  Maggie was surprised to find a thriving community hidden within the mountain. Nearly a hundred people lived in the mountain’s shelter, most of them down low in the depths. These were people who believed in individuality and didn’t want to be forced into collectives. Though they weren’t mentioned in the prophecy, each in their own way contributed to the goal of bringing individual freedom back.

  Interchron was a series of hollowed-out caves. The farther down she went, the more places there were to explore. Unlike what she would have expected, there was no dampness in the caves. They were completely dry and filled with soft, beach-like sand. There was evidence of electricity and plumbing throughout, though she couldn’t always see it. The only difference between this community and the ones Maggie was used to—other than the occasional technological tweak that made Maggie feel as if she were on the movie set of a sci-fi—was the lack of natural light. This place felt just as advanced as anything Maggie was used to.

  Joan took her through the corridors without ceremony. She met many people, most of whom recognized her.

  One looked a lot like Joan.

  “Maggie, this is my daughter, Lila.”

  Maggie smiled. Lila couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, but she was a spitting image of her mother. “We met the other night. Nice to see you again, Lila.”

  “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” With a little
flit of a wave, she disappeared around a gigantic stalactite.

  “How old are you, Joan? You don’t look old enough to have a daughter Lila’s age.”

  Joan smiled. “Thank you, but I assure you I am. I’m forty-three. Come, I want to show you something.”

  They wound through the maze of corridors, passing more people with whom Maggie had similar conversations. They recognized her and tried to speak to her in a familiar way, but Joan stopped them, and they would offer to help Maggie in any way they could. They were some of the kindest people she’d ever met.

  They walked for twenty minutes before the number of people in the corridors thinned out. Then they went several minutes without meeting anyone. They came to a long, dark passageway. Unlike other places they’d been, there were no lights in it.

  Joan located a box built into the wall from which she pulled what Maggie guessed was this century’s equivalent of a flashlight. Joan cupped it in her hands, and soon it radiated a warm, yellow glow. She held it out above her like a lantern and started down the passageway.

  “No lights in here?” Maggie asked, following.

  “No. We could put them in, but no one ever comes down here. It’s cold and far away from the others.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Because you used to come here. It’s one of your favorite spots.”

  The passageway opened into a large cavern. As soon as Maggie entered, a cool wind hit her full in the face. It was cold enough to send chills down her spine, but she liked the freshness. None of Interchron felt close or stuffy, but this was more open, more free.

  “I see why,” Maggie said, and Joan laughed.

  The ground stretched out for fifteen feet before dropping off sharply. Maggie went to the edge and knelt, peering out into the darkness.

  “What’s down there?”

  “We don’t know. Because of the lack of light, no one’s ever been down there. I think it’s a canyon of some kind.”