by Brad Raylend
I sprinted through the jungle towards the sound of screams. I had been monitoring the village for the past few days, I thought the U.S. troops would pass it by as they would any other farming village, but the reports of M16s and M60s in the distance told me otherwise. I ran and slid down a mud chute that dropped me into a creek that led down to the village. The moment my feet splashed into the brown water, bullets cracked around me. I dashed down the winding creek, doing my best to stay low. Trees and vegetation exploded around me and bullets zipped past my head. I finally got to a good position behind a small embankment and tried to figure out who the hell was shooting at me.
The village was only a few hundred meters away on the other side of the ridge to my back. The people shooting at me were no doubt Americans. I had come to recognize the sound of AKs during a long career of fighting individuals wielding Soviet-made weaponry, and these were definitely not 7.62 rounds smacking the dirt. I had to get back to Suong. I had left her with the people in the village a few days prior. I could hear the soldiers to my front maneuvering towards my position. They were yelling at each other in English to push up. I shouldered my rifle and looked through the IR reflex sight. I could see multiple heat signatures. They were now only several meters away.
I couldn’t run. It was uphill behind me and the cloaking system was practically useless with the amount of mud and muck caked on the suit’s surface … not to mention my dumb ass had left my helmet in my pack back at my hide sight. They were now almost on me. I shouldered my suppressed rifle and disengaged the safety. It was them or me. I saw the head of the first one and I leveled the sights on him. I squeezed off the shot and the round snapped his head backwards. The men behind him screamed out to him. I felt horrible. His brothers in arms called out to him in horror. I kept my rifle up, waiting for the next few soldiers to enter my field of fire. They began to move in on me, doing their best to confuse me by bounding forwards, alternating their forward movement while laying down suppressive fire. I could see exactly what they were trying to do, and it wasn’t going to help them. Every time one would pop his head up, I would shift over, staying in a high knee, keeping my rifle firmly pressed into my shoulder. The recoil was practically nonexistent against the suit’s muscular exterior. Remaining in semi auto, I continued to squeeze the trigger, my rounds mostly hitting them in the large metal helmets they wore. It made a sickening smack as it tore through the helmets and then their heads.
After taking out at least six, I dropped down into a low knee and quickly conducted a tac-reload. I had forced myself to practice retaining my empty magazines every time I reloaded. Regardless of whether or not I was in a pinch, it was vital that I didn’t leave anything behind during my operations for obvious reasons, considering the lightweight plastic magazines I used were not made until 2018. I continued engaging the American soldiers, the whole time cursing under my breath. I wanted them to fall back, I didn’t want to have to kill any more, but they gave me no choice.
THE NEW WORLD
The next morning, he was woken by a knock on the door. Albrecht walked in and Todd sat up, grabbing his folded-up flight suit from beneath the bed and slipping his legs into it.
“How’d you sleep, Todd?” Albrecht asked. He paused, realizing he had barged in without asking for Todd’s permission. “Oh, sorry, I’ll come back. Keep forgetting it’s a different you.” He chuckled.
Todd looked up at him as he put on a pair of Salomon hiking shoes from under the bed. “It’s okay, man. You’re good,” he said as he zipped the flight suit up to chest level.
Todd looked around the room; the sun shone brightly through the window, lighting the room. Albrecht picked up the journal that had been sitting on the nightstand and looked at it for a moment. Todd could see the sadness in his eyes.
“What was the other me like?” Todd asked, resting his elbows on his legs.
Albrecht handed him the journal. Todd took it from him hesitantly. He looked at the cover, then back at Albrecht.
“He was a good man … and my friend,” Albrecht said, looking down at the white tile floor.
Todd stood up. “Was?”
Albrecht put his hands in the pockets of his lab coat as he leaned up against the wall opposite Todd. “I don’t think I will ever understand why he did what he did. I wish I could but …”
Curiosity spread over Todd’s face. Throughout the night, he had pondered about the previous “him.” He had never asked what had come of him. He obviously had removed himself from the original timeline in order to alter the future, but what had happened to him? Part of Todd was afraid to ask; the possibility that his other-self had been killed was the most probable possibility, which would make sense why they had returned to the future to retrieve Todd, but why all the secrecy, why not just tell him?
Albrecht sat down in the chair at the small writing desk opposite the bed. He crossed his arms and looked up at Todd, who stood with an eager expression.
“It all started when we sent him to Vietnam.” He rocked slightly in the chair as he spoke, gazing out the window into the blinding white of the rising sun reflecting off the snow.
“The Vietnam War was the beginning of the end not only for the country, but it seemed to be the breaking point for York himself. The very war we created through our actions in the early stages of the Cold War; killing Stalin, and then Kennedy … it was like we got ourselves out of one mess just to step into another.”
Todd sat back down on the bed “I … or York, killed Kennedy?” he asked.
Albrecht nodded. “Like Kara said last night, if Kennedy hadn’t died, the Cold War would have escalated much quicker into WWIII. It was a necessary act of judgment in order to save millions of lives. It was my call. York was just following orders. Looking back on it now, I fear we may have made a mistake. Maybe there was another way … maybe we could have resolved the issue abroad.” Albrecht looked troubled. It was obvious he felt somewhat responsible for the state of the world.
A silence swept through the room as a million questions came to mind. He was about to speak to break the silence, but Albrecht did it for him.
“I want you to read that,” he said, nodding towards the journal. “He left it here … for his replacement, I assume. Something tells me he didn’t foresee us finding you. I need you to get inside his head.” Albrecht grinned. “Shouldn’t be too hard, you are the same person after all.” He stood and walked to the door. “Come on, Todd, we’ve got a lot to cover.”
Todd followed Albrecht into the break room. There were about ten or so people eating breakfast and chatting quietly, but the room fell silent when Todd entered. Albrecht ended the awkward moment. “Good morning, everyone,” he said cheerfully.
Several good mornings were returned, then one of the individuals approached Albrecht holding a tablet and brought something to his attention. Todd leaned in slightly to eavesdrop on their conversation. From what he gathered, the individual was informing the professor of a “recent update to timeline relevant to current work schedule.” Most likely pertaining to Todd’s upcoming task, he thought.
“Will you excuse me, Todd, I’ve got some important matters to attend to. I’ll see you in a bit,” Albrecht said. “Grab some breakfast.” Then he walked out of the break room with the other individual.
Todd looked around and spied Kara at a table in the corner. She sat with a dark-skinned girl whose long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Todd moved past a group having a whispered conversation—no doubt about him—and made his way to the fridge. He grabbed a juice out of the door rack and then made himself a bowl of oatmeal. He glanced back into the break room at the several groups of individuals speaking quietly, many of whom broke eye contact at the sight of him.
He walked over to Kara’s table and could hear she was talking about something history-related with the other woman. He held out his juice and oatmeal. “Mind if I sit here?”
Kara looked startled at the sight of him. A big smile broke over the other girl’s face.
“Todd!” she said with excitement as she stood up and hugged him.
Todd looked at Kara in confusion.
The girl finally let go and stepped back. “It’s so good to see you again, I mean … I know it’s not the same you … but still it’s so good to see you!”
Todd smiled slightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Kara interrupted. “Todd, this is Amber Hassan. She’s a tech specialist here.”
Amber smiled. “Tech specialist and your BFF!”
Todd grinned. “Thanks … can never have too many of those.”
The two sat down at the table, Todd practically inhaling the oatmeal while Amber talked nonstop about her recent breakthrough with something called “IHD12,” which from what he could make out was some kind of helmet. Kara and Amber chatted on for several minutes while Todd left to grab two more bowls of oatmeal. On his return the second time, Amber turned with excitement as if she was meeting him for the first time all over again.
“Todd!” she said with a big smile on her face. “Have you and Kara had time to … catch up at all?”
Kara shot Amber a look of anger mixed with embarrassment. Todd could see the redness in her cheeks. Looking back at Todd, she appeared to mask her embarrassment with a look of slight annoyance.
“Todd, I was the other Todd’s … I suppose you could say counselor. Besides giving him detailed briefs on the time periods which he would travel to, I also made it my personal duty to monitor his mental health.”
Todd scratched the stubble on his cheek. “So, I’ve gathered that the ‘other me’ wasn’t exactly a charmer in his last days, am I right?”
Sadness came over them, and the two girls looked at each other and then at the table.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Kara said softly.
Todd looked at her intensely. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it,” she said as she finished off her glass of orange juice and set it down on her plate.
“I think you can tell me,” Todd said impatiently.
People began leaving the break room, no doubt heading out into the main floors to begin their work day. Kara stood up with her plate and glass and headed over to the sink. Amber remained sitting next to Todd.
“It’s so good to see you, Todd,” Amber said, placing her hand on Todd’s. “It’s good to see you like this.”
Todd looked at her and smiled. “I don’t know you, but … I can tell you and I are going to be good friends.”
Amber smiled. “It’s good to have my badass Navy SEAL back.”
Todd tilted his head in confusion. “SEAL?”
Amber rolled her eyes and smiled. “Aw, stupid time travel stuff … messes up everything.”
Todd chuckled. “So the other Todd was a frogman, huh?”
The door slid open next to the kitchen and Albrecht stepped in. “Ready, Todd?” he asked.
Todd stood up, saying goodbye to Amber. As he walked out with Albrecht, he glanced over at Kara but she stood in the kitchen, her back to him.
The two men made their way down the main hall and stopped at the door labeled R&D. Albrecht punched in a five-digit code. There was a slight beeping noise, then the door slid open. The lab was occupied by a few workers, most of whom were gathered around the tables near the center of the room which had a variety of weaponry laid out. Albrecht walked up to one of the individuals in the corner who was manning a work station with a holographic monitor.
Todd stopped at a table where an overweight man in a lab coat seemed to be putting the final touches on a small microchip with a soldering needle. On the table next to him was a .300 Blackout rifle. It was a high-end AR-style weapon popular among the Operators in his unit. Todd noticed it was quite unique in its design. The outer skin of the rifle was also unique, as it resembled a carbon fiber weave.
A large hand presented itself to Todd. “How do you do, Mr. York,” said the thick man in the white coat. He had a scruffy beard that extended down his neck and nearly met with his chest hair protruding from the collar of his Glock t-shirt.
Todd returned the greeting. “I’m guessing like everyone else you’re well acquainted with me already?”
The man smiled. “Not you, but the other York, sure. Name’s Kevin Burns. I’m the weapons expert here.”
Todd nodded with a slight grin. “My kind of guy.”
Kevin crossed his arms over the large gut that stuck out of his lab coat. “Not sure what they will be having you do this time around, but I can assure you, you will be well prepared to utilize any weaponry that you encounter during your missions.” He looked over at the table and grabbed a heavily modified Sig Sauer pistol off the table “So in your timeline … you still with DEVGRU?” He was referring to the other name for Seal Team Six.
Todd shook his head “No, CAG.”
Kevin looked intrigued at this news. He placed the Sig back down on the table and picked up a 1911 that lay beside the rifle. “As far as I know, you D-boys still pack the good old 1911, am I right?” he said as he racked the slide back on the pistol and locked it into place using the slide lock. He looked in the chamber, then handed it to Todd.
Todd smiled as he held the pistol. “Some of us do.”
The 1911 had been his sidearm of choice for as long as he could remember. The gun had saved his life on multiple occasions during his time with the unit, proving to be one of the most reliable weapons he had ever used. Though it had been heavily modified with a custom-threaded barrel, built-in light and laser in the lower receiver, and a small flip-up tritium reflex sight on the rear of the slide, which when flipped down became standard iron sights, the overall mechanics of the weapon had remained basically the same since its birth nearly a hundred and twenty years ago. Not even John M. Browning himself would have been able to predict that his legendary firearm would stay in service until the end of time.
Todd gripped the pistol, his hands wrapped around its carbon fiber grip comfortably. He found an empty side of the room and presented the weapon up, aiming down the sights. His firing hand thumb rested atop the safety, his other thumb just below, both oriented towards his target. The fingers of his left hand rested in between the fingers on his right. Making sure he was applying equal pressure on the grip, he moved his finger from the lower receiver down to the trigger. Without budging, he disengaged the safety with his thumb and squeezed the trigger. The hammer clunked forward without any rattle in the gun, and the sights didn’t budge from his target which was a small warning sign on the wall.
Todd smiled. “Perfect.”
Albrecht approached the two men. “Todd,” he said, motioning him over.
Todd racked the slide and clicked the ambidextrous safety back up. He handed the pistol to Kevin, who was smiling ear to ear.
Todd joined Albrecht, who stood beside Amber. She was adjusting an armored suit worn by a silver manikin. Two metal pillars with lights running down the insides were on each side of the manikin, illuminating the complex outfit. The majority of the suit was made up of large flexible armor plates that resembled the human muscular system. The plates were separated by a tough nylon-type material that was located on most of the joints and between the plates. A system of small transparent cables or wires about a centimeter in diameter ran down the extremities of the body on the edges of the plates. On the wrist was a dual connection port for something that its wearer would attach to most likely operate the entire system. Over all, between the weapons and the suit, the equipment they had at this facility was far more advanced than what Todd had used back at his unit.
Albrecht placed his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’m sure you’ve been wondering … this is it.”
Todd looked at the suit, then back at Albrecht. “This is what?” he said in confusion.
“The key to the past,” Albrecht said as his eyes scanned over the complex skin of the black suit.
“This?” Todd said, pointing at the suit. “This is the time machine?�
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Albrecht turned to him and nodded. “Yes … not what you were expecting, I’m sure.”
Todd chuckled. “Well I wasn’t expecting to see a DeLorean parked in the garage … but this definitely is not what I expected. Where’s the cape and cowl?”
Albrecht laughed.
“So, you just put the suit on and press a button?” Todd asked with a look of disbelief.
Albrecht looked at Amber, who was holding a clipboard in front of her.
“Essentially yes … but there is a little more that goes into it. The suit itself is not what produces the energy necessary to initiate the sequence, it is these cables that line it,” she said as she pointed to the thin transparent cables that ran down the sides of the armor plates on the suit like veins. “These cables, when activated, create a massive amount of energy which creates a window. This window … is what some might call a wormhole. Together, the cables generate a spherical energy field with a radius of about three meters. Which when directed by the MTX sends whatever is within that radius to whatever year specified.”
“This wormhole … how does it work?” Todd asked, scratching his chin.
Amber brushed a stray hair behind her ear, “Man first began to grasp the idea of time travel when we first left Earth. It was discovered that time in space was slower than time down on Earth. I’m sure you’ve heard of the theory of relativity. It was theorized for many years that this could be a small example of time travel, but that notion was swept under the rug. Until 2015, that is.” She looked over at Albrecht, who grinned and stepped towards the suit.
“I had been working for the Department of Defense for almost six years when I made a breakthrough in my studies in quantum physics. In late 2015, I was working on a machine in Virginia that was used to study the effects of accelerating protons many times faster than they already travel and colliding them at a single point. This machine was similar in purpose to a machine in Switzerland known as the Large Hadron Collider. Only ours was one hundred times smaller.” He chuckled. “We discovered that the collisions made by the protons formed strange energy pockets which we assumed were black holes. They were open only for a small period of time and were about the size of a marble.” He pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. “We are talking milliseconds that these things were open. So, the idea was to calculate the proper speed and the correct number of protons needed to create a large enough reaction upon collision in order to form a reasonably sized black hole. A few months later, we found it, when I received a letter on my desk describing the exact calculations to create a sufficient-sized wormhole. The letter had been signed by myself a year in the future.”