The Power of Forgetting

by A M Russell

  *****

  Sixteen

  This was my punishment, if there was any to be had; I couldn't bear it. After five minutes of staring into the dark I started to worry. After five more I jumped to my feet. Oliver suddenly stood up and pushed me back against a tree.

  'You stay focused now.' The order was softly implacable.

  I was still pinned to the tree.

  'Now then soldier; just stop now. Let's not give the enemy anything.' Oliver then looked up listening carefully. He froze into to immobility. I was still crushed. He lifted one finger to his lips, and slowly removed his other hand too. He motioned to me for us to slip sideways behind a tree.

  We eased ourselves round. We listened into the night. There might have been something…. but what it was I could not identify? A slight sound perhaps?

  We slowly sank into the thicker bushes. We lay there motionless. I didn't have time to indulge any fear. This wasn't about being clever; it was just about not getting caught.

  A few minutes later, there was no whisper of air. The night was becoming stiller and warmer again. Set against the backdrop of this magical warmth, we were still waiting. Oliver was right next to me; but you would have to trip over him to know he was there. Normally I would have succumbed to the enforced stillness, and entered some hyper relaxed state, while still remaining alert.

  But I was anxious in a way that was creeping me out, rather than causing me to do anything silly. Oliver had relieved me of that impulse quite easily. So we carried on waiting, and the tension of something, or someone watching and waiting somewhere nearby was too much. I pressed my face further into the dirt and tried to focus. It was beginning to feel the first pangs of panic again.

  'Easy…. Easy now.' It was the first time Oliver had spoken for at least twenty minutes.

  A few minutes later he slowly sat up with his back against a nearby tree. He was scanning the distance, looking for slight movement between the boles of trees that could not be accounted for by the occasional breath of a night breeze.

  'Clear now.' He said, and I sat up too with my back against the same tree. We flexed our muscles to relieve the stiffness. I waited for him to speak again.

  'We have waited long enough.' Oliver said.

  'Thank God!' I said at last.

  'You've been silently shouting it ever since last night.' Oliver was matter-of-fact, 'something is going wrong with the whole thing.'

  'It was always a crazy idea.' I said.

  'Admitting that you should never trust your friends is hard.' He said.

  'Oh.'

  'You think they're all compromised.'

  'Yes.' I said.

  'You're right.' Oliver nudged me. I took the water canister from him without comment.

  I took a good mouthful before responding, 'I'm right?'

  'Yes.'

  'Really?'

  'Yes.' Oliver inflected it with more of an accent.

  I ran my hands through my hair, which flopped annoying in my eyes. I breathed slowly, steadily, focusing calming myself. There was time. There was always time. I took another sip.

  'Better?' Oliver held out a hand, I gave him the water bottle back.

  'Yes, now I am. A little…'

  'Ready in five?' Oliver asked.

  'Make it two minutes.' I replied.

  'How does it work really?' Oliver asked as we crouched in a small clear space near another tree.

  'I think it's about feeling the connection. Just think about someone keeping tight hold of your hand. Then you should feel a sudden pull. After that, even if you try, you won't be able to let go.'

  'Like a strong magnet?'

  'Yeah, I guess. A very strong magnet. You really can't let go.'

  'Alright, I get it. What about arriving?'

  'The connection breaks as soon as you arrive. And the time flux surrounding you dissipates in two minutes.'

  Oliver grinned at me, as far as I could tell, from the low level of illumination, 'Two minutes again. I must start a collection.'

  'Of things?'

  'Of moments.'

  'Oh,' I said, 'doesn't that end up being a bit weird?'

  'Collecting times you've had? Nah! That way I don't have it weighing down the pack.'

  I fiddled with my jacket clips feeling a bit freaky. After all, what did I have but past imperfect on the memory front?

  'I don't remember.' I said.

  'You don't have to.' it was understandable that Oliver was being so reassuring, after all I was about to mess with his molecules in a way that made anything that you saw on TV seem easy by comparison.

  'Alright?' I held out a hand.

  'Are you now?' Oliver grasped my forearms very firmly.

  'Yes…' I said beginning to focus, as I locked my grip round his arm just above the wrist also; 'I'm…. it’s….'

  'Just relax,' said Oliver, 'I think it's working.'

  I felt then a tingle or charge pass over us both. I relaxed my grip, but my hands felt as if they were fused to Oliver's arms, and in turn his were to mine. I shut my eyes, and dipped down into the bright threads that were the mental picture of the time energy within. Almost immediately a golden thread swirled round us. My eyes sprung open. Like fine spider webs of golden silk, they spun round us, gently glowing in the dimness of late evening. Neither of us spoke, but I saw Oliver's face. His eyes were wide with a look of delight, a bit like a kid a Christmas. He smiled at me and laughed.

  I felt that lift then; it was a lightness of heart, a strange euphoria for my senses. A sense of waking….

  Then I focused on the time and place… ten to one near the old corridor. There was a sudden rush of gold filaments, as if we had been brushed by someone's hair. Then a brief sensation of coolness, then….

  I sat down suddenly on the floor. Our hands broke apart. Oliver remained crouching down, balanced on both feet. He rested his fingertips on the floor. He seemed fine, just waiting the required two minutes.

  I was on the other hand, having some difficulty getting back up into a crouched position. So I opted for sprawling on the floor in an untidy heap. The feeling then was of something disappearing down a plug hole. The shimmer of static going to earth it seemed. I bent forward then… I felt hollow and strange. I breathed slowly and tried not to gag as a feeling of extreme nausea rolled over me. The sweat rose, and my throat contracted. I leaned forward to press my head against the cool floor.

  Oliver was beside me then, 'Come on,' he whispered, 'I think we need to get moving straight away.'

  'I…. I'm coming….' I forced myself to my feet. We started to jog across the wide silent dark space. Oliver kept hold of me. I had to squeeze my eyes shut every few yards to stop the queasy feeling. Just ahead still arches appeared in the dimness. For some reason we had ended up in the marble hall. I didn't have time to consider the reason why, as Oliver pulled me sideways behind a column arch. We stayed still. Somewhere in the middle of that vast space a single light bobbed along. It was impossible to tell whether it was near to us or not. We waited. The light: - a lantern we assumed continued its undulating path for several minutes, during which time the sickly feeling eased. All at once the light was eclipsed, and no further points of brightness came into view.

  We both breathed in relief.

  'You okay now Captain?' Oliver might have been amused, but I could see in the semidarkness.

  'Fine. Yeah, just fine. You?'

  'It was pretty cool. I thought I'd seen everything. But that was… really good fun.' He was definitely smirking then at my pathetically weak stomach.

  'In my defence,' I said as we started to move again, 'I did get us to the right place…. Well, nearly.'

  'Uh…. Jared?'

  'What?'

  'It's night.'

  'Oh…. shit!'

  'Hush now….' said Oliver, we will need to find what time it is exactly. Let's keep it soft and low…'

  'Sounds like a diet spread.' I said.

  'No talking.' said Oliver as we slipped into a corri
dor.

  In a few minutes we had found our way to those back corridors or unused rooms. I was puzzled by the speed which we reached that same deserted school room. Outside the moon was setting.

  'It's about 4 am,' said Oliver as he hunted round the room, 'ah, here it is… I thought so.'

  'What?'

  'Wiring.'

  'So?'

  'I'll just connect into the system. We'll have the date, time a current situation in a sheep shearing minute.'

  I watched as Oliver quickly attached a set of wires from his pack. He set the small gadget onto a dim display setting. A moment later we found a set of code.

  'That one. Environmental systems. Not protected by the main shell of the building's security. One moment… here.'

  He shoved a pencil and paper into my hand.

  'August First 112 BC.' He said slowly.

  'Are you sure?'

  'Yeah, pretty much. It is going to be one of those days. I can tell.'

  'Anything else?'

  'Wait…' Oliver moved the small cursor. 'Something…. I don't know. Something attached to the date settings. Odd…'

  'What is it.?'

  'A moment and I'll tell you.' He fiddled some more with the small device, then quickly disconnected it.

  'I think,' said Oliver, 'I may have accidentally stumbled upon a little bomb.'

  'Tell me.'

  'Not a bomb that goes boom, but one that goes nuke ‘em through the whole computer system.'

  'But isn't that what we want?'

  'Yes, and no. the system that this was placed in wasn't the main data core. It is a lower security system. One that their general personnel have access to, no one would ever think to look in it… because no one would either be stupid enough; or brilliant enough to put something there.'

  'A bomb that will fry the whole system?'

  'Exactly.'

  'What is the problem with that?'

  'We have to stop it if we can.'

  'Why?'

  'It is going to destroy everything….'

  'You mean explode don't you?'

  'Well… I don't know exactly if that will happen… most likely it might.'

  'If you're going to say boom, then say it!'

  'Alright, ' Oliver regarded me with a level sense of pity, 'at midnight tomorrow the whole thing is going to go Boom!'

  'Brilliant you say?'

  'Yes.'

  'Okay, so what has She done?' I asked him.

  'How did you know?'

  'Female intuition. Where to now?'

  'Erm… you do realise that we have arrived back into last night, don't you?'

  'Last night…. But that's the right date…. Oh, but it would be of course, it's AM. Okay, sorry…. Really mucky jump; not a tidy one at all.'

  'Well it does give us time… but we need to be really careful. There is the possibly of major…. Err, paradox.'

  'That's the one.' I said lightly. Whether this really would be the case, I didn’t know. Perhaps that's why I felt so light. Chance to muck things up in an entirely new way this time….

  I considered what I had already seen, before we come to this place. We sneaked along dark and deserted corridors, with a creepy sense of ease that somehow made my musings all the more irrational. Oliver seemed quite stuck on one thing. That we had to make sure that the building didn't go into meltdown. I wasn't sure why, so I asked him.

  'That's what happens when you switch off the environmental control. Therefore…. there must be an electrical grid somewhere.'

  'What on earth?'

  'Like a mini power station. Whatever it is, it pulling one hell of a lot of power.'

  'The labs.'

  'Yes, the labs.' Oliver looked sideways at me for a moment, 'I don't think we are going to like what we find.'

  'So where is all the power being generated from?'

  'Come on! Jared; you need the clear your mind. Start working it through. If I thought that this…. talent of yours dumbed you down that much, I would never have come.'

  I fell into a sullen silence for a while, as we edged along yet another featureless corridor. He'd got a point. I wasn't at my best. But considering all the stress that everyone had endured since the whole experiment began, I was at least still able to make rational assessment of the facts. Trouble was I didn't have all the facts.

  We stopped, and listened. A sound. Something familiar, domestic even. A low continuous note with an undulating resonance that made your teeth feel nervous.

  'It's cooler down here.' Oliver said.

  'Ten degrees.' I said, flipping open the suit flap to view the small readout on my arm.

  'Switch it over the wrist viewer,' Oliver instructed, 'then we can tread carefully.'

  We moved a few more feet. Oliver put his right hand against the wall.

  'There's something behind here.' He moved his hand, then pressed his ear against it and frowned.

  I checked the readout again. Nine degrees. Oliver straightened up.

  'It's somewhere along here. We will have to find a way in.'

  'The map doesn't mark anything at the end of this corridor, it must the right place.'

  'Very good,' said Oliver, 'getting back up to speed.'

  'Eight degrees, ' I said as we trod softly along this grey map marked dead end.

  Suddenly there it was; a door. Secure, large, formidable and a strange dark black…. When I say dark black, I mean that there seemed to be no reflection form its surface. It was like the black of a black board. The darkness that is found in a cellar; like coal; or the sleek surface of a modern electronic gadget, but with no reflection to indicate it boundaries. The edges of the frame were the normal grey colour; and it seemed to have no markings or joint of any kind.

  'Blast door.' said Oliver, 'give me a hand with this panel.'

  He already had three of the screws out. I took them and he removes the last three.

  'The secret, ' said Oliver, 'to getting in through any door. Is to remember that they have to be able to get through it when they need to with ease. Every system is built for convenience of the end user. And therefor always has a weakness.' With this he attached the wire of the gadget to the connector behind a key pad.

  'And the code is?' he looked at me.

  'What do you want me to do?'

  'Press nine, pause, then one…'

  I did so. And he nodded.

  'Eight, then two?'

  'You think? Yes, it's right.' Oliver was looking happier.

  'Seven, then…'

  'Just do it.'

  'Okay.'

  We carried on. The last one was five and zero. Oliver got me to repeat that one. Then we went back up in reverse; six to four…. three to seven….and so on.

  'I am living proof that it is better to be lucky than smart.' said Oliver as the door smoothly slid upwards.

  'Oh, I don't know, ' I said 'I think you're pretty smart too.'

  Oliver fitted the panel back in place, 'No boyo. Just clever. Really "Smart" is for our friend the prof.'

  'Jules?'

  'Yes. Dr Rosen.' Oliver seemed slightly tense then, 'come on. Let's find out what this really is all about.'

  'Why are we doing this?' I asked as we ducked until the still moving door.

  'Perhaps we owe it to ourselves.' He answered me with another expletive then that it wasn't about to translate, and then said: 'None of us will ever have a full night's sleep again, if we don't risk everything to stop this thing that these people are doing. This is wrong. Creation of a human or not the province of science, nor is it a game for the luxury of the rich and influential.'

  'Could it be a game?'

  'We shouldn't rule it out.' Oliver looked uncomfortable, 'what we saw in the mountain could just be a fore taste of the whole thing.'

  'The end result of which is a life time of experience in one night!'

  'Did you think this before?' I said, as we neared the end of the corridor. At that moment Oliver stopped and held up a hand. I froze. Then I sa
w something really odd. Something like a glass table and lots of coloured glass tubes. Oliver moved slightly to the side. I stepped forward slowly. My eyes followed the tubes, which extended along this glass table towards a light source. The table itself was empty. Oliver was already examining the glass. Then one look at me was all it took. It is here. All at once I saw them, arranged in circles round a central column of brilliantly lit tubes: the glass tables extended outwards like the spokes of a wheel; and on each one was laid a figure covered with a gauzy semi-opaque cloth. Bodies. Oliver moved near to one. He leant over it, eyes scanning closely inch by inch. I hadn't moved yet; I was rooted to the spot at the sight of these copies.

  'Who are they?' I was having difficulty keeping the growl out of my voice. Fear of the unknown.... or perhaps disgust, or revulsion. I looked at the wrist viewer. Five degrees. It was cool in here, but not freezing.

  'Look at this.' Oliver beckoned me. He pointed at a small panel at the end of this glass bier. It was metal and about three inches long. There were letters and numbers stamped into the surface, a bit like those plastic strips with the gummed backs.... made on some sort of hand held machine.

  'Do you see?' Oliver stared at me. I met his eyes. 'See what?' I said.

  'Letters and numbers; it coded for each one. What do you make of it?' Oliver seemed puzzled by my reluctance, 'Right there.' He pointed at the nearest one.

  I went forward and examined the panel. There were Roman numerals "I" then "V" followed by a six-digit number.

  'Sell by date?' I said and laughed nervously.

  'Hum,' Oliver eyed me for a moment and moved to the next one, 'the code is the same for all these,' he said, 'it must relate to some sort of batch number.'

  'That's like eggs in egg boxes.' I said.

  'Very like. All hatched on the same day.'

  I wish I hadn't brought up the subject of eggs, as it didn't help at all. I was thinking of all the things you could keep in a fridge, and chilled people were not my preference. We carried on moving through the room. We moved smoothly and very quietly so as not to wake these bodies. The feeling of being in a hospital mortuary was strong, but with the added unpleasantness of thought that they were actually alive in some fashion.