by Amy Kinzer
Dr. Thompson’s words bounce off the walls.
No more incidents.
But what if I decide not to come back? Then what will happen?
Will they shut down the program because of me?
I can’t mess anybody’s life up any more than I already have. My time at IYD is to make things better. Not worse. Dr. Thompson said they can’t have any more unexplainable incidents. But what if the incident was explainable and I didn’t come back on purpose?
But how would they ever know?
I glance at Farrah on the other side of the room. I’m sure I know why Farrah is here. She’s looking to go back for the same reason I am.
Redemption.
A second chance.
Maybe Farrah’s the one person I can trust with my past.
The video shows Norris program the Slider. The room fills with gasps as a wavy hole in the air appears. Norris goes running into the waves. You can almost see the past in the waves. Like time could jump out of the hole and into the present. Norris enters the waves and disappears. It’s the last time he’s seen.
“Class, what you just witnessed was the last time someone entered a vortex. Rick will be our first successful traveler next week, followed by Matt. We need to make sure that we have everything set up right so you can return. We cannot lose another student.”
“How is it possible that he just disappeared?” Rick asks.
“That’s the discussion for today. We believe that one of two things happened last year. Either Norris went back in time and tried to change something, or that something went wrong as he programmed the Slider and he ended up in a parallel universe.”
“A parallel universe?”
“Yes. Several different universes co-exist. One of the possibilities is that Norris got lost in time and ended up in a parallel universe and wasn’t able to find his way back. That’s why he his existence was scrubbed here. But we believe the most likely thing is he tried to change something and caused a wrinkle in time that affected his return.”
Silence.
Everyone takes in what Dr. Thompson said. I can tell people are scared. If something goes wrong, going back in time threatens to erase us from existence. Or send us to a parallel universe.
I’m not scared.
There’s nothing for me here.
I want to go back.
***
Dr. Thompson continues with his lecture. Winn Theory states that time is happening all around us. I look around the room. I don’t see time everywhere. All I see is what is happening around me. There’s no evidence that anyone can skip around the time continuum.
Shannon raises her hand for, like, the one hundredth time. The girl is filled with questions and curiosities
“If time is happening everywhere, then what happens when you die?”
Dr. Thompson claps his hands together. He looks pleased. “Another good question, Shannon. I’m glad you have your thinking cap on.” He looks around the room. “Think about it: if time is happening everywhere. If there are universes parallel to the one we live in now, then you never die. You’re always living somewhere.”
You never die.
I think of Violet. Is she alive somewhere?
“But you do die,” I interrupt. Everyone turns around and looks at me. Like there’s an invisible voice speaking from the back of the room or something. Or like they forgot I’m here. I shift in my seat under everyone’s eyes. I don’t like to be the center of attention. It’s been a long time since I wanted anyone to even notice that I’m in a room.
“Yes, good point, Matt. Death is the one thing that everyone has in common with time. You are born, you live the trajectory of your life, and then your time ends. That’s the reality that we know. But, somewhere else on the time continuum, you are still alive. Every second that ever existed is happening somewhere. It’s making the jump from now until then that’s the hard part.”
I consider what he says. It both makes sense and doesn’t. If time is happening all around us, and we’re always alive somewhere, then why do we get so upset at death?
“Then why’s it so hard when someone dies?”
“Good question. Because on the plane of existence that you are conscious of, you have no way of reaching out to the dead. You don’t know where they are, nor do you have the ability to reach out to them, but you shouldn’t feel a complete loss when someone close to you dies. They’re still alive in another point in time.”
“But they will die the same way each time?”
“Yes, Matt, that’s the hard part.”
Dr. Thompson continues his lecture while I try to wrap my mind around what he said. I try to picture every moment of my life happening in space. It’s invisible to me.
The one thing I can’t imagine is living the accident over and over again or living death in a loop; the replay of a life with so many possibilities that’s ruined abruptly.
I can’t let Violet stay there, having her life snuffed out over and over again.
I need to give her a second chance.
Chapter Nineteen
Farrah–Kate
Except for the glow of the TV, the room is dark. I’m sitting on the couch in the common area with my knees pulled up to my chest, watching the scene I’ve seen a thousand times when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I search my peripheral vision for the source of the movement. I thought everyone was in bed. The last thing I need is for my roommates to see me watching this movie again.
Especially Matt.
When I don’t see anything I look around, searching. The room is empty and quiet. But then I hear something and this time I’m sure it’s not my imagination. I turn my head towards the source of the noise and I’m met with the real reason I came to Nevada in the middle of the summer to become an apprentice for a political party: Marvin Winn.
“Hello,” he says. He’s standing in the shadows but I can make out his diminutive figure. Up close he looks older, shorter. His hair is greyer than in the pictures, and he’s bent over, as if gravity is trying to pull him back down from where he came.
I want to speak but my tongue’s stuck to the bottom of my mouth. I keep trying to formulate words but my mouth just can’t conjugate them. I try one more time: “Pfft…”
“Cat got your tongue, girl?”
“Uh … no…”
“Say something then.”
“Pfft…” Maybe the cat does have my tongue.
He steps closer to me. “Are you a mute? We don’t allow mutes at IYD. If you can’t speak I’m going to have to send you home. Only healthy youths are allowed at IYD. Anyone with special needs is expelled from the institute.” He comes closer and stands right in front of me, blocking my view of the TV. My heart beats in my ears and I shake my head to make the noise go away. He’s short, like my height, his heavily wrinkled skin reminds me of my neighbor’s Shar Pei, and he smells stale, like a visit to my grandmother’s house.
He tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to say something. He keeps coming closer and I realize that if I don’t say something soon, he’ll be standing on top of me.
Finally, I spit, “Hi. I’m Farrah Ryan.”
“Yes, I already know who you are. What are you doing up so late? Don’t you have class in the morning?”
“Yes.”
He pauses as if he’s waiting for me to say something else. The only sound in the room is the TV in the background. “Then don’t you think you should be in bed? I don’t run this Institute to have people showing up late for class and slacking off. The Party is serious about our students’ attentiveness.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll get right to bed.”
“Good. We need to make sure all the students are wide-awake and ready for the day. Now turn the TV off.”
I reach for the remote control and for the first time he actually notices what’s on the screen. He waves his arthritic hand in the air and I set the remote back down. Next thing I know he�
��s joined me on the couch, sitting on the far edge, watching the movie.
Several minutes pass and I don’t know what to do. I watch him across from me. The distance is both safe and uncomfortable. Suddenly tired, I stifle a yawn.
He breaks the silence. “You look like her…” He doesn’t turn my direction.
I squint my eyes through the dark room at the TV. She’s on the screen, wearing skinny pants and a polyester jacket. I trace her face with my eyes. I wish I looked like her. A lot of people think I look like my dad. “Really? You think so?”
“You could be twins. It’s as if I’ve gone back in time twenty years and there she is.” He looks over at me and back at the TV. “Spitting image is what you are. She was a lot of fun, your mom. She used to come out to Vegas quite a bit before you were born. She’d bring her friends… That was before she married your dad, of course. After they were married we didn’t see her anymore.”
My brow furrows. “You knew my mom?”
“Oh yeah, Lynnette was a Vegas regular…” He turns and looks at me, his eyes piercing me through the dark. “She’d be real proud of you coming out here for the summer. I know if she could see you now she’d be real proud.”
I lower my head. “Thanks,” is all I can think of to say.
Then the room goes silent. The movie ends and the credits roll against a gently drifting soundtrack. Marvin pushes himself up off the couch, the movement in slow motion, and when he steadies himself he says one last thing. “Don’t disappoint her. Even though she’s not here I know she’s watching.” Then he turns and walks towards the front door, leaving me alone in a room lit by TV snow.
Chapter Twenty
Rick
It’s almost time to go. I’m still first. And being first secures my place in the history books. That’s all that matters. People go around life worrying about the littlest things no one will ever think about again. Not me. I only care about the big stuff. Time travel is big. And nothing is bigger than being the first.
Matt’s right: there’s no reason to panic. Dr. Thompson has been working on the Slider all year. It’s the last hurdle before I’m initiated into the Party. Once I’m one of them they’ll let me in on their secrets – and I want those, too.
And, really, it’s so stupid the reason they’re sending me back. It’s nothing. I’m sure if they wanted to they could scrub all the government computers of my misdeeds. But they want me to make a change.
I really think they’re just experimenting on me. Turning me into a human guinea pig. Like I care. They think they can outsmart me? They know nothing. I know they’re doing worse than just sending a bunch of high school kids back in time in that tent they have hidden in Area 31. They have no idea I know about the tent.
They’re a bunch of amateurs.
They would need to be a lot smarter than that to pull one over me.
***
I’m in my hotel room listening through the door, waiting for the sound of activity outside my bedroom to die down. I need to check something before I go – just a little something – and I don’t want anyone to stop me.
The voices outside my room won’t go away. Security. They’re talking about the opposition. Forces have been building up. Security has a close eye on what goes on outside the hotel.
But it means nothing because I’m leaving soon, to change my past, to come back as the perfect Party member, a person with nothing to hide.
Or at least nothing to hide that they’ll know about.
The voices fade away. I count to a thousand after they’re gone. I put my ear to the door. I pretend like I’m stretching. I’m wearing gym clothes. Like I’m going for a little exercise.
The hallway is silent.
It’s time for me to go.
***
Maria is behind the desk in the business center. She still has her nice smile and is, as usual, filing her nails. She’s always filing her nails. Like she’s obsessed. She nods at me when I walk in the door.
“Good evening, Rick. I haven’t seen you in here lately. The computers are wide open. Choose any one you’d like.”
“Hi, Maria. Yeah, they’re keeping us pretty busy out at the school.”
I pick the computer in the back of the room and wait for Maria to go back to filing. A security guard comes in and starts chatting her up. Her skin flushes red. The guard leans over her desk and whispers something in her ear. She giggles.
Amateurs.
I scrape the ePrivacy device onto the back of the computer and go to the satellite image of Area 31. They’ve constructed a fence around the tent. The fence looks like it much be at least ten feet tall. It’s topped off with barbed wire. A tank sits outside the gate, waiting for intruders. The construction workers are gone. Whatever they’ve been building is done.
Maria giggles the entire time I’m writing. I pretend like I’m researching. Like I’m taking notes. Because they’re watching; they have to be. But all I have is an interest in researching the Party.
I log onto the Conspiraciesrus.com forums. The thread is titled: It’s Done. Marcus is the owner of the thread. They’ve seen the completion of the facility. I wonder if they witnessed the security guard and the beast in the back of the truck that tried to pull off his arm. I look up at Maria and the guard flirting with her. They’re deep in conversation so I type a quick message:
It’s almost time for me to enter the vortex. I saw they finished the facility in Area 31. Keep the discussion going. If you see anything, post it here. I’m checking messages sporadically.
I log out of the forum and remove the security device. When I’m done I turn off the computer and head out of the center. Maria looks up at me like she forgot I was ever here.
“Get what you need?” she asks.
“Yep, thank you.” I glance at the security guard and nod my head. He nods back and goes back to talking to Maria.
I walk as fast as I can back to my room.
Chapter Twenty-One
Farrah–Kate
The sound of the pool’s waterfall and the distant traffic and voices from the street below are the only things I hear. I’m lying on my back on one of the Winn Hotel’s lounge chairs staring into the night. It’s one of those evenings where I can see for a million miles. The universe is swirling in the sky. Every pin prick represents a moment in time. My mind considers everything Dr. Thompson told us. Time is everywhere. It’s happening everywhere. You just have to find the vortex to take you where you want to go.
I take a deep breath. I should go inside; it’s getting late and we have our last class in the morning before it’s Rick’s turn to travel. And after Rick it’s Matt’s turn. I know it’s going to be difficult for Matt going back to that night. I worry about what Matt has planned.
Goosebumps prickle my skin. I feel those before anything else. Something moves and I sit up so quick that stars fill my eyes. I look over my shoulder. Marvin stands at the edge of the pool, leaning on his cane, watching me.
“Nice evening.” He walks over to where I’m sitting.
I nod my head. I never know what to say around Marvin. He’s allusive: a man that hides in secure offices and in shadows – a man with a secret and enough money to make anything happen.
And he’s the man who holds the key to my past.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I agree.
He limps to the lounge chair next to where I’m sitting and gingerly lowers himself onto it. His joints creak, pop. He lays back and we both stare at the expansive sky. The only sounds are crickets and cicadas chirping all around us, drowning out the street noise from below.
“You know, there are small wormholes everywhere.” He waves his arm in the air as if one will appear in front of us. “Small ones … they open up for a brief moment and then they’re gone. The problem is, no one knew where to find the holes – not until the Slider was invented. I knew it was possible all along, I was sure of it; I wouldn’t have spent my life’s fortune it wasn’t possible. Dr. Thompson is a genius. I’v
e been looking for these passages in time my whole life and they were here all along.” I nod my head. “Now we can find the holes, send people through, and bring them back. But it only works if they go back with the right intentions.” He gives me a hard look. I can feel his eyes burning through me, looking for the truth. “What are your intentions, Farrah? You’re not going to be like Norris Chen and not return, are you?”
I consider his question. There are so many things I’d like to change about my past, but nothing more than changing what happened to my mother. I’m worried that changing her death is not something that can happen in a day, or a week, or even a month. Mom’s entire life led her to the end. Mom got all of her self-worth from acting, and little from anything else. And when the acting jobs dried up, there was nothing left to keep her going. I was too young when Mom died to change the trajectory of her life. I can only go back and change that night. After that I’ll have to rely on Mom to try to change the rest.
I start to cry. The years of pain I’ve built up inside me start to leak out. I’m cracked and my insides are dripping out. My shoulders shake. Poison leaks out through my tears.
Growing up without my mom is the worst thing that happened to me. I imagine all the things that would have been different if she had been around. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween … I was the only kid without birthday parties. I never brought food for the bake sales. There were no mother-daughter days at the spa.
It was only my dad and I, living in the same house, but not really living together at all.
Marvin gets up and joins me on the couch.
“Farrah, after you help your mom, make sure you come back. It’s what your mother would want. She’d want a better future for you. I know it.”
I smile at Marvin through my tears. He’s such a mystery to the people at IYD. I wonder the real reason he chose to put all of his money towards the creation of the Slider. Why a man who could do anything he wanted would choose to spend all his money, time, and energy trying to send people back in time.