Soul Source: Back and There Again

by Charles Vella

  3

  "Hello Sarah."

  "Jesus Dutch," Sarah said when she'd whipped around. "Don't sneak up on me like that." She turned back around. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

  "Heart attacks are becoming more common in young people. In fact last year..."

  "Skip it Dutch," she said turning back to the console. "I was just joking."

  "Aah. I'm afraid I'm not sure that's very funny. Since you had to explain it I mean," he said bitterly.

  "Right."

  "What are you doing Sarah?"

  "What's it look like I'm doing?"

  "It looks like you're preparing for a mission."

  "Give the man a kewpie doll."

  "That's very generous of you. Although kewpie doll does not appear in my memory data. And I don't really play with dolls. Except during some experiments Dr. Ted..." Dutch's face reddened and his voice trailed off but Sarah didn't notice.

  "Everyone's getting ready for a mission." She nodded toward the clear wall across the narrow room from where Dutch'd entered. People, busy people, were starting to crowd the launch room. Screens on the wall had flickered to life. "I don't need three guesses to figure out what that mission is. Well I'm going back with them. I'm hitchhiking with whoever Agnes intends to send. And no one's going to stop me." She spun around and pointed a finger at him. "Not even you. So don't try." She turned back around to the console. "I'm warning you," she added with her back to him.

  Dutch looked around the small room, at the console of screens hung on the walls, the wall that looked out on the regular launch area, then turned back to Sarah.

  "Why do you think that anyone intends to stop you Sarah?"

  "Enough wind up Dutch. Get to the pitch. I'm in a hurry here."

  "Very good visual Sarah. Very appropriate."

  "Thanks Dutch." She turned and faced him, crossed her arms and tapped her toe. "The point? I'm busy here."

  "Yes. The point." He nodded his head and smiled. "Well, you're correct. The mission is going today. But you seem to be assuming that Agnes isn't going to send you."

  "She isn't." Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Is she?"

  Dutch smiled back.

  "Let me get this straight. You," she pointed a finger at Dutch's chest, "...are telling me," she pointed a thumb at herself, "...that Agnes," she waved her finger in the air. Dutch reached out and moved her finger to point more to the left, "...is sending me on the mission." She put her hands on her hips. "Is that it?"

  "All I know is Monica has turned it down and Agnes wants to see you."

  "Monica turned it down?" She frowned. "When'd she do that?"

  "I believe Agnes actually wants to see you relatively soon. The mission is scheduled for ten o'clock."

  "Ten?" She looked at the activity on the other side of the window. "Are you leveling with me Dutch. Because don't forget I'm the only person left here who knows about your override."

  Dutch blushed. "Agnes does want to see you," he stammered, avoiding her eye.

  She gave him one last searching look then disappeared through the door.

  When it swished closed behind her Dutch turned to the console. He pushed the thought of the override from his memory banks and tapped a few icons and nodded. The redness disappeared and he smiled. "This should be funny," he chuckled. "And I won't explain it to anyone."

  *

  "I know."

  Agnes felt the blood run cold in her veins. She looked up at the young woman leaning over her, hands planted on the top of Agnes's desk. The same young woman she'd met in the launch room. The same young woman...the face...the thought made her shudder. She carefully leaned back in her chair and somehow managed a poker face.

  "You know what?"

  "I don't know," Sarah admitted with a frown, straightening. "Exactly. But I know I know something. I know it."

  "Why don't you sit down Sarah," Agnes waved at the chairs across her desk and Sarah dropped into one of them, arms folded across her chest, looking amazingly like an angry fourteen-year-old. "Now." Agnes folded her hands on the desk in front of her and tried to look like the principal. Tried to convince herself that her twenty-four year fear of the face glaring across the desk at her was irrational. "I have something to say," she waved a hand as Sarah's mouth opened and it snapped shut. "You'll get your chance to tell me whatever it is you think you know. But first listen to me. We don't have a lot of time."

  Sarah's jaw set and her arms settled tighter over her chest but she didn't say anything. Agnes stared at her a few seconds longer then took a deep breath. Like standing on a cliff and staring down at the water below. Far below. She closed her eyes and jumped.

  "Unlike you, I know what I know. And I know why you want to go on this mission." She leaned forward, her knuckles white from gripping her hands together. "We can stop this Sarah. You and I. It doesn't have to happen that way." She took another deep breath, felt as if she were about to hyperventilate, leaned farther across the desk. Lowered her voice before uttering what she'd never imagined she'd be able to say out loud. "I can tell you where to go," she almost whispered. "When they won't be armed."

  "How do you..."

  "Forget it," Agnes snapped. "Whatever it is you imagine you know, I'm telling you that you can forget it. It doesn't matter, won't matter, after you get back from this mission."

  Sarah stared back, her lined brow shifting from suspicion to puzzlement. "Then you don't know."

  "Know what?" Agnes snapped. "For God's sake why do you people talk in riddles? The question is whether you want to stop it or not. That's what you have to decide."

  Sarah sat silent for what seemed a long time. Agnes's stomach rode an express elevator down to the depths of her soul. She was afraid she'd throw up on the desk. She'd climbed out on the limb and handed Sarah an ax.

  When she finally spoke, Sarah's voice was low and solemn. "You're right. Doesn't matter. How do I stop them?"

  Agnes leaned back in her chair, feeling the flush of victory in her face. Not the end of the journey, but the beginning. "That," she said, "I'm completely confident you'll figure out. You're smarter than all of them." All of them? Warn her about Pruitt? Her conscience gnawed at her but that could only complicate things. "But I can tell you where and when to go."

  Sarah nodded. "OK. Then tell me."

  *

  "My screen projector."

  "Your screen projector?" Dutch asked. "Is there a problem with your screen projector?"

  "It's working." Justin stepped out of the car and looked around.

  Dutch frowned. "That doesn't seem like a problem."

  "It wasn't working before."

  "I see."

  "Where are you?" the small voice rose from the screen projected on Justin's wrist.

  "I'm..." He looked around then at Dutch. "Where am I?"

  "You're behind the main building."

  "We need you in the prep room. Now."

  "Prep room? What's the..."

  "Now."

  "Now? Why?" But Lemberger's face'd disappeared. Justin stared at his blank wrist for a few seconds then turned to Dutch. "They want me in the prep room."

  "That does appear to be the case."

  He took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. "Should I understand any of this? Because I don't? Why did she drive away from Monica and lock me in her car?" He finally shrugged when Dutch didn't answer and looked at the building. "How do I get in?"

  "I know a shortcut."

  Justin nodded, followed Dutch toward the building.

  "There's no door..." A square of grass slid away in front of them, revealing a short escalator. Justin stood there, looking down at it.

  "They do appear to be in a hurry."

  Justin nodded and followed Dutch down the escalator. Stopped. "But what's the prep room? And why do they want me there?"

  "I'm sure they'll explain everything when you get there." Dutch led him through another door and across a narrow corri
dor where another door slid open.

  "Where are we?"

  Dutch ignored him. Justin followed him down a hall. An elevator door swished open and Justin got in.

  "I wouldn't mention the shortcut," Dutch advised.

  Justin turned and opened his mouth to answer, but by the time anything came out the door had closed and the elevator was dropping almost as fast as his stomach.

  2

  Funny she hadn't thought of coming before. Actually that wasn't true. She'd thought about coming before the mission to offer sympathy and tell him that he was better off without Veronica anyway. May want to rephrase that now. Come on. You don't know what happened. Don't know where she is. She might be fine. Complaining that the ride ruined her hair. But the thought of Veronica, staring at her through that windshield, sent a chill down Monica's spine that made her shiver in spite of the heat as she limped up to the house on her broken heel. No. Better not to mention Veronica at all.

  She could see Pruitt's house through the trees as she walked up to the front door. Did they hang out together? Go back and forth to borrow cups of sugar? Evidently Veronica'd been going back and forth although she didn't need a bag for the sugar she carried. Whatever they used to do, Ted and Pruitt weren't hanging out together now.

  She got to the door, stopped. It took her a second to realize that she was surprised to be looking at the closed door. Every time she'd ever been here the door'd opened as she approached and Ted'd stood there, grinning with his hand out in front of him, fingers splayed. Not now. Somehow the closed door was one of the saddest things she'd ever seen.

  She glanced around. The wall was completely smooth around the door, so she finally gave a soft tap, as if afraid she might wake up the ghosts living there. She waited. Even though she couldn't hear anything she felt a presence of some kind inside the house. Her patience was rewarded when the door finally slid open.

  No. Rewarded wasn't the word. Whatever she'd expected she wasn't prepared for this. It flickered through her mind that she may never've seen Ted when he wasn't grinning, getting ready to grin, or just finished grinning. In fact, she'd always kind of thought that if you looked up grin on line you should see Ted's smiling face. He wasn't grinning now.

  Haggard was the only word she could come up with as he stared at her across the threshold then worked up to a wan imitation of his old smile. He turned without a word and walked into the living room. Monica limped after him. She stopped near the sofa but Ted passed the furniture and walked to the large glass door and stood with his back to her, staring out into the bright sun. The air conditioning must have to work full blast constantly to counteract the heat coming from the sun, which filled the room with a natural light like you almost never saw inside anymore.

  "Well I'm going to sit down," she finally said. She lowered herself onto the sofa. "Sarah somehow blocked me from projecting a screen. I didn't have any way to call for a ride and had to walk all..."

  "Veronica's dead."

  Monica's stomach dropped. Not like it was a surprise. She'd figured. Still, all she had to do was close her eyes to see Veronica staring at her through the windshield of the truck, her eyes framed by hair that Monica'd just accused her of coloring out of a bottle. You'd have to search a long time to find anything to feel good about in that picture.

  "I'm sorry Ted. I wish there was..."

  "There is," he said, turning away from the window. He dragged himself into the living room and slowly lowered himself into a chair across the small table from where she sat. "Something you can do."

  "There is?"

  "Not about Veronica," he added. They sat silently for what seemed a long time before he finally went on, leaning over with his elbows on his knees, talking to his shoes. "I never should've married her," he sighed. "But she is, was, so beautiful."

  If you like that sort of...stopstopstop. The man's in pain. The eyes on the other side of the windshield that Monica couldn't get out of her mind narrowed accusingly.

  "And she wanted to so badly." He looked up and she thought with panic that he might cry. "Did you know that she asked me?"

  "I didn't know that."

  He wagged his head and dropped his eyes again. "If it hadn't been Pruitt it would've been someone else," he muttered, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Probably was someone else," he added.

  "Oh Ted," she started to get up but he waved her back down.

  "Don't worry Monica. I'm a big boy." But he didn't look big. He was every sixth grade boy who'd just seen his first love kissing his best friend, or maybe his worse enemy. She realized that Pruitt'd probably been both. "Anyway, there isn't time."

  "Isn't time for what?"

  "They're sending Sarah and some," Ted frowned deeply for a second, "...some Homeland Security, I don't know, guard or something. On the mission."

  "They are?"

  "Do you know about Verma?"

  "Mission? Homeland Security? Verma? I'm trying to keep up Ted but can you elaborate a little?"

  "Never mind," he waved a hand again. "You've got to worry about Sarah and that guy..."

  "That guy?" She frowned at him. Homeland Security? "You mean Justin? He's from Homeland Security?"

  "Justin. That's it. Justin Case." A grin flickered onto his face and he started to raise a finger at her but his eyes caught his hand as it was rising and the grin froze into a grimace. He slowly lowered his finger, staring at it as if it'd betrayed him, and nodded.

  "He's some kind of aide to Agnes."

  "I met him." She frowned. "What's that you said? He's a Homeland Security guard?"

  "Well, I'm not sure exactly what he is. But they're sending him with Sarah. It must be to make sure she does what they want."

  "Good luck with that." She tried to imagine Justin giving Sarah orders. "They better give him a whip and a chair."

  He smiled weakly, as if a lifetime of sunny disposition were trying to break through the mushroom cloud of his last week. "They're not that stupid. They'll use psychology." He pointed a finger at his head.

  "Psychology? On Sarah? I'd try nuclear weapons first and escalate from there."

  "Sarah's got a weak point. Her parents."

  "Her parents? What about her parents?"

  He stood and paced around the room, talking to himself. "I don't know what they're actually trying to do back there." He shook his head. "The surveillance systems are all down."

  "You can see the surveillance systems?"

  "The point is," he stopped and held his hands out. Shook them in front of his face like a B movie imitation of a symphony conductor, "...you've got to go with them Monica."

  "Go with them? Why should...how can..."

  "I'll tell you how to do it." He dropped down onto the sofa next to her. "There's a room off the launch room. It's an..." he hesitated as if searching for the right word. "...an experimental room. It's right next to the launch room but you have to know how to get to it."

  "Experimental room?"

  "A second launch room. One that can be connected to the main launch room to link into the closed timeline curve of the main launch."

  "But that's against..."

  "Every policy we have," he finished. "Pruitt put those policies in place. And they're good policies. But Pruitt doesn't know about the experimental room. It's been erased from all the building plans."

  "So you didn't have to follow his policies."

  "Well," he said with a sheepish grin. "I needed a way to experiment."

  "You and Sarah."

  He nodded and sighed. "I have to warn you Monica. Sarah and..."

  "Justin."

  "Justin." He sighed again. Shook his head sadly. "Sarah and Justin are in grave danger. And so are you. I, none of us, has any idea what's going to happen now." He sighed. "I wish I could confer with Pruitt, but I'm not sure he can be trusted any longer."

  "I would've thought that's the one thing you could be sure about."

  "There's something I
don't know."

  "Only one thing? Then you're ahead of me."

  He shook his head and looked at her. "Don't trust him Monica."

  She nodded. Stared into his earnest eyes. Don't trust Pruitt. OK. No need to argue with that sentiment. "So," she finally said. "You want me to follow them. Break every rule we have about time travel. That's it?" He nodded. Fine. No problem. Anything else? Can I burn down an old folk's home for you? "And do what? Why am I following them?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "All I know is you follow them." He seemed to jolt up at the sound of his words. "Excuse me a second." He jumped up and disappeared into the back of the house before she could say anything.

  "All you know is I follow them," she said to the empty room. It's like being dropped into one of those old movies her mother used to watch that were all opening and closing doors and misunderstandings. Plots and subplots unfolding around her but she was clueless. So what does she do? Follow them? But how could she? Was it dangerous? For her? For Sarah and Justin? What if they diverted and ended up in the middle of Lake Erie? What category of intervention would it cause for her to go back without authorization? When she came back she'd be facing a real firing squad.

  "Ted," she said as he came back into the room. "I don't know if I can do this. The implications..."

  "Monica." He sat down next to her and took her hands. "I can't explain but you have to."

  "But..."

  They both turned as the door swished open. Dutch walked into the room. He shot Ted an accusing look, then beamed at Monica. His eyes were deep blue. She'd never seen them that color.

  "Are you looking for me?"

  "Ted," Monica's eyes edged away from Dutch but kept him in her peripheral vision. "What is this? Is this some kind of joke?"

  "If it is don't ask me to explain it," Dutch said. He glared at Ted and the blue in his eyes flipped to a pale red. "That would spoil it."

  "I didn't know Dutch." Ted wagged his head morosely. "No one ever told me." Ted shot an accusing glance at Monica.