Soul Source: Back and There Again

by Charles Vella

  "Sorry Monica." He loosened his grip but led her firmly back to the chair. "You shouldn't be able to open the door anyway but still..." she felt herself set firmly back down, "...better not to take chances. Safety first."

  "But he's...how," she looked back and forth wildly between the light and Dutch. "Is he..."

  "Dead?" Dutch looked at the closed door. "I expect so, although to be honest I haven't calculated precisely at what point in the cleaning that would happen."

  "Oh my God." Monica buried her face in her hands. First Verma. Then Sarah burned to death in the van. Now this. Someone being broiled like a lobster in the bathroom. "And we're just sitting here."

  "Why, what do you think we should do?" Dutch asked, puzzled.

  Monica's head snapped up. "Get him out. What do you..." she stopped, stared at the door, thought about her bathroom meeting with Sarah. "Dutch," she said slowly as she started to catch up with the conversation. "Who did this?"

  "Did this?"

  "Rigged the bathroom system. Not many people could figure out how to do that." It had to be Dutch. He'd as good as said he'd killed Verma after all. But still. How would Sarah feel about that killer? And Sarah could override the bathroom. But Sarah wouldn't've done that. Would she? Not even to the person she thought was responsible for her father's death? Sure she talks about killing Pruitt and Agnes but she doesn't mean it, does she?

  Dutch frowned. "I'm not entirely sure I should tell you that Monica. I wasn't specifically instructed not to tell anyone, however it does seem clear that it could cause some embarrassment."

  "It wasn't Sarah, was it?"

  "Sarah," he said in surprise and Monica felt relief wash over her.

  "Oh no. You see, it's rather a complicated story. Dr. Ted has spent years trying to perfect my decision making. The programs governing it have become extremely complicated." He looked around and lowered his voice. "To be completely honest I have to describe some of his more recent efforts as a little sloppy."

  "But what's that..."

  "It's a long story," he sighed. "The situation presented a great deal of ambiguity. Agnes wanted to talk to him but Pruitt didn't want her to. In the end," he explained. "I realized that while killing him was what Pruitt wanted, doing so also eliminated the conflict because Agnes would no longer be able talk to him, once he was dead. I must confess that the process of reaching that conclusion actually raised my body temperature half of a degree."

  "Pruitt," she jumped up again. "Of course," she said, relieved. "I should've known. The killer knew Pruitt was involved in the attack."

  "And that Agnes wanted to talk with him," Dutch confirmed. "There's a great deal of conflict between Agnes and Pruitt," he said sadly. "More even than between Dr. Ted and Pruitt. I am rather beginning to think that Pruitt's the problem. I thought I'd resolved it, but things didn't work out as I'd planned."

  "Resolved it? The conflict between Ted and Pruitt? Dutch, did you send Ted back to find Pruitt and Veronica...to find them...together?"

  "I calculated an ninety-two percent probability that Dr. Ted would kill Pruitt. The conflict was quite exhausting Monica," Dutch said with the air of a person grateful to finally find someone to talk to. "You see, Dr. Ted programmed me to obey both of them. I can resolve cases of ambiguity with a random number generator..."

  "You flip a coin?"

  "A very apt analogy. But that seems to cause as many problems as it solves. Oh I have an override," he said with a dismissive wave, but she noticed he avoided looking her in the eye, "...but never mind about that. No," he said with a sad shake of his head. "It seemed easier to have one of them leave." He shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately then Agnes came. I still haven't completely resolved the ambiguity of how to treat Agnes's orders compared to Pruitt's," he sighed. "And then there's the one from Homeland Security." He shook his head sadly.

  She shot up from the chair. "Thursday morning. What time is it?"

  "Seven thirty-two."

  She felt herself deflate. "Then it's too late to stop Veronica."

  "Oh yes."

  "Who did it Dutch? Who killed Veronica?"

  "Why you did."

  "Me?"

  "It was a diversion. You see your arrival coincided with her departure. That's also why I couldn't be sure exactly where you'd arrive."

  "But who programmed us to come back when she left?"

  "I did of course."

  "But why..." No. What's the point. She edged toward the door. "Does anyone else know we're back?" She felt the door behind her. Turned. Stared at it some more but it stayed closed.

  "That's a very good point," Dutch said as she turned back around with a sinking heart. "I don't believe anyone knows you've returned yet, but I imagine Pruitt will figure it out soon."

  "What'll he do then? He'll probably want to hide us until we leave." If that makes sense.

  "Why yes," Dutch said with a grin. Monica stared at his pointed finger and tried to figure out why her heart was suddenly in her throat. "In a manner of speaking I suppose hiding you is accurate. I don't think he'll intend for it to only be until you leave though."

  "What? You mean he'll..." Dutch nodded encouragingly. "But why?"

  "Well Monica, Pruitt has some information, but not complete information because you haven't left yet. Pruitt will probably believe that you've come back with the tape, since that was the original mission." He lifted a hand and Monica realized he was holding an old fashioned video tape. "In that case, having as much experience with Pruitt as I do, I believe that he will prioritize you as he did our guest." He nodded toward the bathroom. "I really do prefer guest to prisoner."

  "Prioritize me? You mean he, Pruitt..." Her eyes widened. "You?"

  "If I'm interpreting your question correctly I believe there's no doubt that Pruitt will want to make sure to get the tape from you and to make sure you aren't able to tell anyone about it."

  "He can see I don't have it."

  "I really don't think it matters. You see, if you say you don't have it, I imagine that he'll believe you've hidden it. Pruitt isn't very trusting. I actually believe that Pruitt will be more worried about you knowing that he was involved than he was about our guest. He would certainly view you as a bigger threat."

  "But you'll tell him I don't have the tape."

  "Oh I couldn't do that."

  "You couldn't...but...he wouldn't...you wouldn't let him...you already saved me once."

  "Oh that was quite different," he assured her. "You were in danger and there's nothing in my programming suggesting that I should obey that person chasing you. Pruitt on the other hand..."

  "But there's ambiguity between me and Pruitt."

  "I'm afraid that you're clearly lower in my decision-making hierarchy than Pruitt is Monica," he said sadly. "Dr. Ted was actually quite hierarchical in those matters. Pruitt outranks you."

  "Then you'd kill me."

  "Oh certainly."

  "But only if Pruitt tells you to."

  "I don't see any reason to do it otherwise. Do you?"

  "Nono," she said quickly, nodding as if he'd just explained something she'd been having difficulty understanding. "And he's coming back? Here? Pruitt?"

  "I believe so."

  "Well," she edged toward the door. "I should probably get going then."

  "I think that's probably a good idea," he agreed. "And Monica."

  She stopped. He stared at her but didn't say anything.

  "I'm sort of in a hurry here Dutch." She tapped the door.

  He nodded. "Of course. I was just hoping you'd hold this a second for me." He held out the tape.

  "Hold it? Why...Oh never mind." She took the tape and Dutch grinned. He closed his eyes and held out his hand.

  "You want it back?"

  He nodded, his grin widening.

  She placed the tape in his hand. OK. That answered one question. A cyborg could go crazy. "Nothing else is there?" she asked, turning as the door s
lid open

  "Just to be careful," he said, his eyes still closed. "It's very dangerous out there."

  "Thanks Dutch. But I think I've figured that part out."

  *

  "Too late," Monica sighed to herself. Veronica stared at her through the truck windshield whenever she closed her eyes. The door swished open in front of her and she wandered up out of the ground at the back of the building. "Too late," she repeated, but didn't like it any better this time.

  So what happens now? Veronica gone. Justin gone. Sarah...Monica felt her eyes fill up. Sarah. She isn't, wasn't, just a young woman. She is, was, a force of nature. How in the world could she be gone? What else could happen?

  Click.

  Monica looked up from the ground she'd been staring at, across the narrow road that circled the complex, and into the barrel of a gun. Her stomach sank as she raised her eyes over the barrel to the evil grin of the man who'd killed Justin. The blood she'd left on his shirt when she'd kicked him in the face didn't do much to raise her spirits.

  "You," she said. Well that made sense. "Well what do you want?"

  That seemed to throw him. His grin disappeared and he frowned across the narrow road at her. He lowered the gun a half inch and stared at her. "It's what I don't want. Witnesses."

  "Witnesses?" she said with a chuckle. That's a good one. Witnesses. To a crime that happened almost a quarter century ago. She shook her head, her chuckle growing into a laugh. "Do you have any idea..." she asked, "...what time it is?"

  "What time it is?" He stared across the road at her. "You're crazy." He looked around. The blank wall of a building behind her. Behind him woods. Where the hell were they? She'd come up out of the ground somehow. How'd she done that? Last thing he remembered before the crash was driving down some road in the country, turning on the cop car's lights to pull over that van. Next thing he knew he was, where? Everything'd gone dark and he was bouncing across grass. Wrecked the car. Kicked in the face. Wandering around in the woods as it got light. Light and hot. He shook his head. Something was very strange but he'd worry about that later. First things first. He looked around. No one. His eyes settled back on her and looked her up and down. "You're crazy," he repeated, then gave the end of the rifle a jerk towards the woods. "But there's no hurry. Let's take a little walk."

  "A walk?" She stared at him with wide eyes. "With you? You need a rifle to get a girl into the woods with you. When was the last time you washed?"

  "Well I've got a rifle." He sneered, lifting it and taking a step onto the road, but he'd learned his lesson and stopped too far away for her to charge. Nothing behind her but grass and the wall of the building. His grin returned as she took a step back and he took another one onto the road.

  Almost a step too far. The car whizzed in silently from around the corner. He didn't see it until it was almost on him. He leapt back, waving the rifle in the air like a pinwheel as he pirouetted. He staggered backward to try to keep his balance but ended up rolling back onto the grass. The car squealed to a stop and the door slid open. Monica stared open mouthed.

  "I wouldn't wait all day," Sarah said. "That gorilla will probably evolve and be standing on two feet any second now."

  5

  "Well?" Pruitt's eyes slid past Dutch and rested on the red light of the bathroom.

  "Oh yes," Dutch said without being asked. "He's quite dead. But at this time I can't tell you whether there's anything funny about it."

  "Funny? What are you talking about?"

  "I can't explain," Dutch said bitterly.

  Pruitt frowned. "It was a diversion. Wasn't it?" he asked, turning back to the light.

  "It certainly appears so," Dutch agreed. "Quite an interesting phenomenon."

  Pruitt stared at him curiously, then let his gaze wander around the apartment. His eyes stopped again on the red light shining next to the bathroom door.

  "Did they bring the tape back?"

  Dutch grinned broadly. "The last time I saw Monica she had the tape."

  Pruitt's head snapped toward Dutch. His brow darkened. "You mean you had her here? And you let her go?"

  "You never asked me to detain Monica Pruitt. It's an interesting logic problem, isn't it?" Dutch went on after they'd stood in silence a few seconds. "You can't keep them from going because they're already back."

  "You said Monica. And Sarah's with her?"

  "I believe so, although I haven't actually seen Sarah. Monica did mention her."

  Pruitt turned again and stared fixedly at the red light on the bathroom so he didn't see Dutch's grin broaden. Pruitt's stoicism wavered at the edges like a crumbling marble bust. One corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "What does the DNA monitor say?"

  "I'm afraid the surveillance systems are down," Dutch said apologetically. "Perhaps we should start counting Sarahs and when we get to two we'll know it was her." He opened his mouth to say something, suppressed whatever it was with a giggle, and pointed a finger at Pruitt.

  Pruitt stared at Dutch for a long time before turning back to the red light. Monica was sent, no, will be sent, on the mission. Agnes intends to send Sarah. The diversion means that there are two of each of them. Running around loose. One of them with the tape. And one of the Sarahs'd seen him in the alley, so she knows, which means Monica knows. He'd decided to send Sarah back because he knew she hadn't succeeded. It didn't occur to him she might return before she'd left. How had that happened? He glanced at Dutch, that inane grin. He'd have to figure that out, but that isn't the most pressing problem. Monica and Sarah, the ones who've returned, are now significant threats. Threats that had to be dealt with.

  "Can you tell them apart?"

  "You know Pruitt, I'm not sure."

  Pruitt stared at him stonily. It was all slipping out of control. Four people, no, two versions of two people. If he eliminated the wrong ones they wouldn't be able to go back. What happened then? The fact that they're back and he still remembered the attack meant he'd been right. They'd failed to stop it. But did it? They've returned, yes, but they haven't left yet. Does that mean that the impacts from their trip haven't shown up in the present yet? If that's the case, then he needs to stop them from going, doesn't he? But what would that mean for the ones who were already back? If they don't go on the mission will the ones who've returned just disappear from the alternative version of the future? No. It was far too risky to stop them from going on the mission at this point. So he had to find the ones who'd returned and do it fast. But how could he tell them apart? Their DNA'd be identical even if the surveillance systems were working. And why aren't they working? They'd never stopped once since they'd been installed. He glanced at Dutch, lifted his hands to his head. These are questions that should be dealt with over years of carefully crafted experimentation. Not by allowing a bunch of cowboys to go flinging themselves into the past and back with no regard to the consequences.

  "For God's sake Dutch, turn that damn light off."

  4

  "Sarah?"

  "I just happened to be passing by. You looked like you needed a ride."

  "Are you... have you... I mean..."

  "I know what you mean," she said, glancing in the mirror. "I'm me. I mean I'm the version of me that went back with you. Pretty weird huh? The fact that there's two of us running around. People tend to think one of me's plenty."

  "You knew."

  "It wasn't hard to figure out. Once I realized my car wasn't supposed to go in for service until Friday. I've set up my own anti theft system. No one but me could take that, this, car. So I figured I must've left and come back."

  Monica nodded. "I saw myself crossing the launch room just before I left."

  "You came by to say goodbye."

  "I did? Why would..."

  Sarah's lips tightened into a small line. "I also figured I must've failed since nothing'd changed with my parents. But still, I hoped it might be different."

  Monica nodded. "The van," she finally said.
"I thought you were..."

  "I was thrown clear. After you jumped out," she added with an accusing look.

  "I didn't jump out. I was thrown out too. How can you say that?"

  "I need to find the dweeb...Justin. You don't know where he is do you?"

  Monica glanced at the clock on the dash screen. "He's at Hazel..." Damn damn damn. "Why'd I tell you that?"

  "Thanks."

  "Sarah you can't."

  "Sorry but I don't have all day." The car jolted to a stop. "I've got things to do."

  "You can't Sarah. Think what it means if Justin doesn't go on the mission."

  "I don't care what it means," she said, sagging with one hand resting on the joystick. "I'd stop myself from going but I can't be sure. I've never had to deal with anyone that smart before..."

  "If you do this you're not as smart as you think..."

  "... so I've got to stop him...."

  "I won't let you."

  "... and I can't take you along."

  "Can't take me along?" Monica turned to look out the back window. They'd gone around a curve and she couldn't see the lunatic with the gun, but how far back could he be? "After what happened back there? You expect me to get out?"

  "It's not always about you Monica."

  "This time it is about me. He has a gun and he's trying to kill me."

  Sarah rolled her eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe you can't handle a gorilla like that? You did fine back at the police car."

  "I was lucky."

  "Honestly Monica, sometimes you are such a damsel in distress. Eject."

  "Eject? What...?" The door slid open and Monica's seat swiveled ninety degrees so fast that she found herself sideways in it when she was thrown out of the door. She tumbled onto the grass, rolled and came up sitting.

  "I installed it after that date with Kenny." Sarah shook her head. "What was I thinking?" was the last thing Monica heard before the door slid closed.

  "I'M GLAD YOU'RE SAFE," Monica shouted after the car as it rolled away. "BECAUSE I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."

  She sat, staring at the blank space where the car'd been, then pushed herself up. She wiped the dirt off her palms and looked around. The corner that the lunatic with the gun'd disappeared behind was still quiet, but they hadn't driven far. He could show up around it any second. Or he could be sneaking through the woods to catch her from behind. She glanced back. The building was in front of her. A blank wall of windows. She started walking toward it. Are there other ways in set into the ground? Dutch'd said 'them', hadn't he? How do you open them anyway? She couldn't just walk in the front door. Could she? Not without potentially running into herself. Where was she now? At Hazel's? Or on that forced march back. Where'd Sarah, the other Sarah, gone after taking her car? It's probably sitting in the parking lot now. If she could get to her office and get a screen projector maybe she could...