by Paul Siluch
“For what?” Daniel asked.
“That’s classified,” she said. “I can assure you they were for extreme, extreme situations. Anyway, the timejet is supposed to be deployed for a fourth mission, but something keeps happening.”
“Something?”
Kyoko nodded. “Strange anomalies have been appearing in the time stream. We can’t determine what they are. But they’ve been appearing ever since we got the go-ahead to deploy this fourth mission. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?” Daniel gestured helplessly around the cockpit. “I can’t help you. I don’t even know what I’m looking at here!”
“But it’s your research,” Kyoko said. “We’re hoping you can look it over, see if we’ve made an interpretation error.”
“Why me?” Daniel asked. “What I mean is, why me at this age? Why not a future me, the one who already did the research?”
“Because the only time bubble we found intersecting your life was the one of you at your current age.” She held up her hand. “Before you ask me any more questions, why don’t you read your research papers? We’re stuck here for another nine hours. I can set you up on one of the nav computers.”
“But I–”
“Look, Daniel,” Kyoko said. “We’re talking about the possible end of the world. We’re desperate. We need all the help we can get. We think you’re the key.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.”
♦♦♦
A few hours later, Kyoko yawned and stretched her arms over her head. She’d racked her brains trying to solve the last two puzzles of the message from her future self. She smoothed the note one last time and placed it neatly on the control panel. “How’s it going back there?”
“It’s so strange to recognize myself in these writings.” Daniel laughed in disbelief. “I don’t even know how I feel. But, I have questions.”
Kyoko unfolded herself from the captain’s chair and crossed the cockpit. She leaned over Daniel’s shoulder and peered at the place he pointed to on nav screen.
“This section seems to have a chunk missing,” he said, “right where it should segue into the second dimension of time travel. Is there another copy?”
Kyoko frowned. “There are no other dimensions to time travel. Only the first dimension.”
Daniel stared up at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“About what?”
“There are three dimensions of time travel. It’s just like space. There’s the first dimension, or the x-axis that we’re in now that moves through time. Then there’s the y-axis, which crosses time. Then the z-axis, which moves above and below time.”
Kyoko shrugged. “Never heard of y-axis time travel.”
“Really.” Daniel cocked his head. “I’m having a hard time believing that.” He looked around. “All signs point to my theory being right.”
Kyoko shrugged again.
“If we were only able to move through time, along the x-axis, where would we be right now?”
Kyoko tapped her foot. “I don’t get what you’re asking.”
“We’d stay in the same physical location in space.” He gestured at the viewscreen. “We’d still be on the park bench. When we stopped time-traveling, we’d still be on the park bench but a hundred years in the future.”
“Seventy.” Kyoko’s chin jutted out.
“Whatever, seventy. But we’re not on the park bench, are we?” He rose from the chair and spread his arms. “We’re outside the time stream, in whatever this is, a time-jet thing. We’ll travel next to the time stream, right? And when we reach wherever we’re going, whenever we’re going, we’ll cross back into the time stream. Y-axis travel. I’ll show you.” He patted his pockets. “Hand me that piece of paper.”
Kyoko leapt to the control panel and snatched up the note. “You don’t have to show me. I get it, Hilbie.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“What, a ‘Hilbie?” Kyoko flushed. “It’s what we call people who think they’re geniuses. In your day, I guess it’s like calling someone ‘Einstein’.” She stuck the note in her pocket.
“Really,” he said. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Cool. But I meant that.” He pointed at her pocket.
“Classified.” She sniffed. “So, what’s so important about two-dimensional time travel?”
“I have an idea.” Daniel sat back at the console. “Can you show me what the anomalies look like?”
Kyoko tapped a few keys. “Here you go.”
“Hm.” It was Daniel’s turn to frown. “Does anyone else have a timejet? Any other country?”
“Not a chance.”
Daniel eyed her. “How do you know?”
“Classified.” She winked.
Daniel stroked his chin. “So you’re an experienced time traveler.”
“One of the best.” She drew herself up to her full height. “It’s why you have the pleasure of my company.”
Daniel whistled. “I’m honored to know I deserve the best. But I think my ego just got stroked.”
“Play your cards right and it won’t be the only thing to…” Kyoko flinched. “Sorry. That was inappropriate. I’ve been told my mind is like corn syrup.”
Daniel looked blankly at her.
“No, that’s not it,” Kyoko continued, embarrassed. “What did Max say? The brain is moving? My mind is flowing?”
“The wit flows like molasses,” they said together.
“My mother says that about me!” Daniel said as they laughed. “I can’t believe that saying lasted seventy years!”
“Crazy!” Koyko’s shoulders relaxed. “So…where were we?”
“The anomaly,” Daniel said. “Is there any footage as it occurs?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Did anyone witness it, like, during a mission?” Daniel pressed. “You, perhaps?”
“I don’t have high enough clearance to know all of the details. What’s your point?”
Daniel exhaled. “Things keep going wrong just as you’re about to go on a mission. This one part of my thesis is missing. I think someone, or something, is traveling through time and sabotaging the missions.” He looked at the screen. “It’s just a hypothesis.”
“If it’s one of your theories, it’s probably true.” Kyoko grinned. “You’re the original Hilbie, after all. How do we test it?”
Daniel pointed at the viewscreen. “Is that a window or a monitor?”
“Monitor.”
“And everything’s captured by cameras?”
“Sensors. The principle’s the same.”
“Perfect,” he said, clasping his hands. “Then what we need to do is jump from two-dimensional to three-dimensional time travel. We need to raise the sensors up, so we can see the entire length of the time-stream.”
Kyoko’s hand covered her mouth. Daniel knows how to look up.
“I don’t know if the z-axis exists in time travel,” Daniel continued. “I haven’t gotten that far in my research.” He slumped in the chair.
Kyoko thought a moment. “It totally exists. Look.” She waved her arms around her. “See? I’m in 3-D!”
They laughed again.
“Okay.” Daniel leapt up. “How do we raise the sensors?”
Kyoko grinned. “We take a walk outside.”
♦♦♦
“That was a waste of time,” Kyoko said. She hung her helmet on the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I’ll think of something else.” He wiped his cloudy visor with a gloved hand.
“The fog is on the inside, Hilbie,” Kyoko said. “I told you to not talk so much.” She helped him lift his helmet off. “And don’t be sorry. It was a good idea,” she said as she hung his helmet next to hers. “I had no idea the sensors were fused to the hull.”
“I’ve let you down. I don’t like letting people down.” He faced the wall.
“I know. I’ve rea
d your autobiography.” She unzipped his suit and patted his back. “Me next.” She swept her long hair aside as she turned away.
Daniel fumbled with the zipper. “It’s stuck.” He yanked.
“Ow!”
“It won’t budge!” Daniel said. “It’s the sensors all over again! I can’t do anything right!”
“Hold my hair,” Kyoko commanded. Their wrists touched as she reached behind her head and carefully extracted a strand of hair from the teeth of the zipper. “Give it another try.”
His fingers brushed the nape of her neck. A shiver ran down her spine as he unzipped the uniform.
“See? No need to panic.” Kyoko avoided his eyes as they stripped off their suits. “You did that just fine.”
“Wow.” Daniel exhaled. “I was on my way to a meltdown. You’re good.”
“Like I said, I’ve read your autobiography.” Kyoko headed to the galley. “It’s a best seller.”
Daniel followed. “Are you allowed to tell me stuff like that? Doesn’t it mess with the time-space continuum or something?”
“Not if you don’t remember.” Kyoko handed him a packet. “Eat this. We need a break.” She took a large bite of what looked like a wheatgrass bar.
“What is it?” He stuck a finger inside the packet and nudged around. “Never mind, I don’t care. I’m starving.” He tipped the bag to his mouth and tapped the contents in.
“It’s scientifically created to replenish you as efficiently as possible: the most nutrients with the least taste.”
“Mission accomplished,” Daniel said as he chewed.
Kyoko and Daniel sat on the floor and ate in silence.
“What did you mean, ‘if I don’t remember’?” Daniel abruptly asked as he brushed crumbs off of his shirt.
“Standard procedure for a time extraction like this is to wipe the memory upon returning you to your own time.” Kyoko touched her pocket. “I’m not sure this is a standard mission anymore.” She handed the note to Daniel and briefed him on Max and the repairs.
“So, the third one on the list is all about you,” Kyoko finished. “If raising the sensors won’t work, we need other ideas.”
“I know how to look up. Whoa.” Daniel sat back. “So how much time do we have left?”
Kyoko glanced at the timer on the HPM. “About an hour.”
Daniel ran his hands through his hair. “Sometimes I do well under pressure.”
“I know,” Kyoko smiled. “Your autobiography.” Her smile faded. “I’m flying blind here. Maybe we’re not supposed to ‘look up’ now. If you can’t come up with anything, I think we should go to my time like they originally planned. But if you can think of something before then, we’ll do it. And no matter what happens, I will get you home. I promise. All right?”
“All right.” Daniel rose and extended a hand to Kyoko.
Kyoko took his hand and let him pull her up. He pulled her into a hug.
“Thank you,” he breathed into her hair. “This is the best blind date I’ve ever had.”
“You’re welcome,” Kyoko said, startled.
He released her and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s do this.” He scanned the cockpit. “Maybe we can elevate the whole timejet instead of just the sensors. There’s no steering wheel on this thing?”
Kyoko shook her head. “It doesn’t move through time like a regular jet does through space. Strictly x-axis.”
“Right. Next idea?”
They brainstormed: mirrors! Painted glass! Spotlights! Each idea would dead end due to lack of materials or time to execute it.
“Too bad you didn’t think to add a button to raise the sensors when you designed this thing,” Kyoko said. She flopped into the captain’s chair.
Daniel lowered himself into the co-captain’s chair. He tented his fingers and stared at the control panel for a few minutes.
Kyoko let herself watch him.
Suddenly, Daniel straightened up. “Kyoko,” he said slowly, “don’t move. Promise me you won’t move. It’s important.”
Kyoko nodded, mystified.
“Because if I designed this thing, I’d install that button right here!” In one deft move, he jabbed a round, silver button.
“No!” Kyoko slapped Daniel’s arm. “You idiot! I told you never to touch this stuff!”
A mechanical grinding noise filled the room.
“Look!” Daniel pointed at the viewscreen.
The view changed. The walls of the time tunnel stretched into inky blackness like a sewer pipe.
Kyoko’s mouth fell open.
“Yes!” Daniel pumped his fist. “Daniel knows how to look up!” He twirled his chair and laughed.
“You did it,” she said, incredulous. Daniel shoved his hand in her face. “What are you doing?”
“A high five!” Daniel shook his palm at her. “Hit me!”
Kyoko shrugged and punched his hand.
♦♦♦
“Again, I apologize,” Kyoko called over her shoulder. She put the liquid cast in the HPM. “I’ve never heard of a high five.”
“I’m just as much to blame,” Daniel said. “I should’ve known that if I told you to hit me, you’d hit me.” He winced as Kyoko applied the solidifying cast. “Do you think it’s broken?”
“No,” Kyoko lied. “All set.” She sat next to him in the captain’s chair and stared at the viewscreen. “Anything?”
Daniel shook his head. “I think we’ll know once we see it.”
Behind them, the timer on the HPM sounded. Kyoko keyed in a few commands. “The repairs are complete,” she said. “If something doesn’t happen soon, we’ll have to leave.”
“Something’s happening.” Daniel pointed at the viewscreen. “Right on time.”
At the furthest point along the time tunnel, bits of blue light sparked and died, like lightning bugs drowning. The blue lights traveled systematically along the tunnel, getting closer to the timejet with every bright flash.
A lustrous red wavelength emerged from the depths of the inky blackness. It traveled at enormous speed.
“Impact!” Kyoko shouted.
The viewscreen turned bright red. White noise filled the cockpit. Kyoko clung to the control panel as the timejet swayed.
The viewscreen jolted into focus.
It was the cockpit of another timejet.
Thick, black scorch marks riddled the back wall. A small fire burned in the galley. A red gel-like substance smeared the bottom right corner of the viewscreen.
Standing at the controls was another Kyoko.
Chunks of singed hair exposed a gash in her neck. The right side of her face was swollen and bruised. The black jacket of her uniform covered the chair behind her. Blood ran down her left arm into her red-gloved hand. She madly worked the console in front of her. A short-range plasma handgun lay to her left.
“What the…” Daniel said.
OtherKyoko’s head snapped up. “Daniel?” She peered into the viewscreen. Her eyes filled with tears as a lopsided smile spread across her face. “Is it really you?”
Kyoko and Daniel exchanged an uneasy glance.
“Sorry,” OtherKyoko said. She clasped her hands. “It’s…it’s been a while, that’s all.” Her eyes drank Daniel in. “It’s good to see you again. I–”
“Who the hell are you?” Kyoko said. She shouldered ahead of Daniel, placing herself between him and the viewscreen. Her fists clenched.
OtherKoyko’s reverie broke. “You know who I am.” She glanced at something above the viewscreen. “You’re early.”
“I know, ten hours early,” Kyoko said. “And no, I don’t know who you are. Not for sure.”
“You’ve altered things by not waiting the full twenty.”
“You could’ve had the time-seal crack sooner.”
“You have to trust me and do what I say as of right now.” OtherKyoko started to glance over her shoulder, but stopped. “It’s the only way to fix things.”
“She’s lying!” A vo
ice said offscreen.
“You’re the liar!” OtherKyoko shouted. Her hands flew over the controls.
A body slammed into OtherKyoko, knocking her out of frame.
Kyoko and Daniel watched helplessly as a fight ensued, moving back into frame. Kyoko recognized the man as he punched OtherKyoko in the face.
“Max!”
“He’s not Max!” OtherKyoko gasped. Blood spilled over her mouth.
“She’s not Kyoko,” Max shouted. He kicked OtherKyoko in the stomach. She fell to the floor, groaning and clutching her sides. Max faced the viewscreen. “It’s not how time travel works, remember? Our training at the academy? There can’t be more than one version of a person in the timeline.” His voice softened. “Kyoko, honey, it’s me. I swear. Look, I know things now…they gave me your diary. If I’d known how you felt about me…I thought you were joking around.” Max grasped the lip of the console as the cockpit rumbled. The handgun skittered across the panel onto the floor near OtherKyoko.
They lunged for the handgun at the same time.
“Move the timejet,” Max said. “It’s a trap!”
He slammed OtherKyoko into a metal cabinet. She slithered around and elbowed him in the stomach, but he clung to the handgun.
“Don’t listen to him!” OtherKyoko shouted. “If you move, they’ll destroy you!”
They wrestled. The handgun discharged, knocking OtherKyoko’s jacket to the floor.
Propped in the chair was Daniel’s mangled, bloody corpse.
“Don’t you touch him!” OtherKyoko screamed. She twisted the gun away from Max and aimed it at his chest. He raised his hands in surrender.
“I loved you like a brother.” Her hand trembled.
“We both know it was more than that,” he said. “It still can be.” He slowly lowered a hand, palm outstretched. “Give me the gun. We can still fix this. It’s not too late.”
OtherKyoko hesitated.
“Good,” he cooed. He stepped closer. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said softly. “We can go back to how it was. Leave this whole timeline behind. Remember when I gave you that little gold number for your birthday?” His fingers inched towards the handgun’s nozzle.