He looks at me, and I nod.
“Good, and from now on, this world is everything that happens on the left of the screen, and your old world is everything that happens on the right of the screen. As the timelines marches forward, we represent that as a vertical line going up, and we will map the J1 and J2 activities against that. Got it?”
I nod.
“Right, so, the next thing we do is represent the jump of J2 from his world to yours by this arrow. It starts at exactly the same place you arrived in this world, W2, and it ends on the origin of your first jump in W1.”
I watch as he basically draws an equivalent line in the opposite direction from what he calls W2 back to W1. I notice that it’s a different colour. It’s in green.
“The important thing is that the origin of each line is the same as the termination of the other. At this point we don’t know which jump caused the other. I know James 2 thinks that it was you who forced him from one world to another, from W2 to W1, but to be honest, James, I don’t think we can say that yet. It may be that he was actually the prime originator of the jump sequences, and that he travelled from W2 to W1 first of all, thereby causing your jump from W1 to W2. And, we also don’t know if there is any measurable difference in time on a timeline between when the conscious self in one body switches from one James to another James. As far as we know, at the moment, it seems pretty simultaneous. i.e. When one James leaves one body, the other James immediately arrives.” The Professor hesitates for a second, turns and looks at me.
I hesitate for a second, but then I nod.
“Good, then for now, we shall assume simultaneous causality of the jump sequences. No one is to blame. We shall just assume they both happened at the same time. In other words, at some point in time and space, which we mark here with an X, you and J2, simply switched places.”
At the other end of the video link, the Professor walks off his screen for a second.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Whisky. Need a top up…” I hear a disembodied voice explain. “I suggest you do the same!”
Perhaps one of the best ideas of the evening so far.
“Okay, now…” the Professor continues, sipping his new wee dram, and reaching forward and putting the glass down on a table somewhere in front of his screen area. “Now, we start getting to the interesting bits… Here, on the left of the screen, in W2, we draw another arrow, going vertically, which represents the time, almost a year, which you spent in W2 after your first jump, and before your second jump through the portal eight years ago…”
“Last week… you mean…”
“Yes, and no. On this timeline we will mark that as eight years, as you will see in a moment. But for now, your activity in W2 will terminate on this horizontal line here.”
I watch as the Professor stops the arrow head, just beside a horizontal line he draws on the W2 vertical time line.
“I’ll now do the equivalent for the time J2 spent on the W1 timeline, representing the time he spent in your world before jumping back to W2 to be with Jane again. And for now, we will assume that the time he spent in W1 is exactly the same and equivalent to the time you spent in W2 before your second jump.”
I watch as the Professor draws a vertical green arrow on the W1 timeline, which has the same length as the one just drawn in the W2 area, and which also terminates beside a small horizontal line drawn on the W1 vertical timeline.
“With me so far?” he asks, standing back to admire his work on his whiteboard so far.
I half laugh, and I hear myself utter the words… “So far, so good.”
“Excellent. Now, what we know from the letter J2 gave to Jane is that he returned through the portal eight years ago and landed here on the timeline on the left in W2. I will represent that jump with this green line from the horizontal line on the right to the horizontal line on the left, and mark that arrow as J2. Yes?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“So, good, what we now have is effectively a rectangle… three sides of the rectangle represent the time-loop undergone by J2, signifying his journey from his world W2, to your world, where he lived for a year, and then came back to here…” The professor taps the horizontal line on the W2 timeline on the left, where the last of my red arrows terminates. “… and the left side of the rectangle represents your journey in time in this world, until the day you made your second jump.”
I nod.
“And it’s worthwhile reiterating that I was there, at this point… ” the Professor taps the board at the point where the green and red arrows of J1 and J2 intersect on the W2 timeline. “ I filmed it, and watched how as you left J2’s body, J2 returned. It was most remarkable. Fascinating!”
“This is the part that doesn’t make any sense to me… Actually, NONE of this makes any bloody sense to me, but what I can’t understand is, if James2 managed to make it back from my world W1 to here in W2, why did I not transfer over to his body in W1? Why did I end up jumping eight years into the future, instead of going back through the portal to my time?”
“Ah… I’m glad you asked that question, James. Well done! It’s a brilliant question!”
“So, what’s the answer?” I ask, momentarily hopeful that the Professor is about to answer it.
“Honestly, James, I don’t have a clue. I have no idea. Yet. I’m sure there’s a good and proper answer, which I hope we’ll figure out soon, but for now?… No idea, my boy. None at all!”
The Professor is at least nothing but honest. Not always the most tactful of people, but certainly honest. My heart sinks.
The Professor is standing staring at the white board, his back turned to me. I can see he is thinking, so I don’t say anything.
“Okay, let’s get back to work. Let’s add in what else we know just now.” He steps forward, swaps pens in his hands, and draws a red arrow on the timeline in W2 going vertically upward from the horizontal mark where J2 and J1 currently both collide.
This time he draws a dotted line, not solid. It’s slightly curved, bowing outwards, then returning to intersect the W2 timeline at another horizontal mark that the Professor immediately draws in black where the J1 arrow lands.
“This dotted red line represents you jumping forward in time by eight years…”
He then swaps pen colours again, “… and this green line which we’ll mark as J2, represents the other James now living in this world, W2, for the past eight years. This is his timeline in W2.”
The Professor draws out the green line, but terminates at the same horizontal line where my dotted red line comes to an end.
He then starts to draw a solid red line going vertically upwards.
“… And… this red line represents you now, moving forward in W2 on a J1 timeline. Which we will update as and when other things happen to you…”
I raise my hand and point to the horizontal line where my dotted J1 red line intersected the green line of J2, and where the J2 line just stopped.
“Like I said at the beginning of this, what happened to J2, the other James, when I suddenly appeared in this world? Where did he go then?” I ask. “I must have bounced him off somewhere else again? Should we mark his path down at all?”
“Not yet. We can’t.” The Professor shakes his head, turning back to face me on camera. “At this point we don’t know where James 2 is. He might have jumped directly back to your world, or just like what happened to you during your last jump, maybe he has jumped forward in time on this timeline.”
“And if he has, then that means I will definitely have another jump coming my way, when his and my timelines intersect again?”
“Yes. I think so, James. But, on the other hand, that may not be the case if he has jumped back to your world.”
“So, I’m stuck here then?”
“No. Most certainly not. It’s just like as it was before, we have to try and adapt the formulae to try and predict what will happen next.”
“And how long will that take, Professor?”
>
“Another excellent question, James, my boy.”
“Do you have an excellent answer for me, Professor, old son?” I ask, slightly annoyed.
“Actually, no, I do not. At least, not yet. But, soon, one day soon, I’m sure I will!”
The Professor turns back to look at the white board, and my gaze follows his.
For a while we both stand staring at the timescape diagram that now maps out my existence.
Two worlds.
W2.
And W1.
One question dominates my mind: “Where is James 2 now?”
Chapter Thirty Three
What next?
9 pm
It’s a warm evening. I’m sitting outside on my balcony, underneath the stars, staring out across London, watching the lights of the city twinkling on the Thames.
I can spot a number of new builds that have appeared on the distant curve of the Thames as it flows towards the city centre from Richmond and Battersea. Each of them fights for status and their share of river views, with different designs that strive to be both innovative and different. Not just tall skyscrapers. Each is individual, with fancy ways of differentiating the highest floors. Point tops. Curved tops. Tops with outdoor swimming pools, or helipads. Tapered tops. Bulbous tops. Gone is the simple square or rectangular topping that we used to culminate tall buildings with above anything between seventy and ninety floors.
In London, the race to build the tallest, most stylish or outlandish buildings has begun. Or had begun, before The ’18 stopped all further building works.
It’s weird. Now it’s night I can see the lights sparkling from the tall residential buildings of London, spread out along the riverside. Inside there must be hundreds, maybe thousands of people. During the day there is no sign of them, but at night, their presence lights up the skyline like little fireflies in the night.
I think back to Jane during the day. I wonder how many of the people I can see tonight are starving? Have any actually died of starvation, locked in their homes, unable to go out, with their food all gone?
For the first time I worry about the world. About society.
Is there anything sinister going on? Have people become prisoners of the government?
Or is the government simply doing its best to keep as many people alive as possible?
When will everyone be let out again?
I shake my head, and redirect my thoughts back to Sarah and Keira and Nicole.
What did I, no, not me, the other James, do to them?
An image of the other James lying on top of Sarah in our bed fills my mind. Hurting her, raping her…
I imagine Sarah fighting back, but James employing more and more force.
Then in my mind, the other James turns towards me and laughs.
Just then, my SP rings and vibrates on the table in front of me, mercifully bringing my thoughts back from wherever they were going.
--------------------
"Home Secretary?” I say, recognising the name that displays itself on the front of the phone as I pick it up.
“Hello, James. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“No, not at all.” I reply. “Oh,… I’m sorry. I was meant to call you, I think. I got the message earlier this evening, but I’ve been on the phone with the Professor ever since.”
“That’s no problem, James. I was just calling to see how you were. And to see how you were settling in and if you needed anything at all?”
“Wow, that’s very kind of you, Home Secretary…”
“Caroline. I thought we’d got that bit clear already. Please call me Caroline.”
“Sorry,… again. I will. It’s just that today’s been quite tough.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, James. But I did also say that if there’s anything I can do for you, you should just let me know.”
“I know, you did. But I’m okay for now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes… I am… wait, actually, no.” I reply, suddenly thinking of something she could possibly really help me with. “Perhaps… maybe you could help with something. I’m looking for a person that I urgently need to talk to. Her name is Sarah Dinah Turnstone. Well, it was the last time I saw her, which was eight years ago.”
“Your wife in your world?”
“How… how do you know that?” I ask.
“The Professor told me all about it. I’m sorry, I made him. Don’t be angry with him. He knows that unless you get the help you need in this world, you won’t be able to make your ‘jump’ back to your world. You need friends in this world. Powerful friends. And The Professor and I are two of them.”
“Who else knows?” I ask.
“So far… no one. And we’ll keep it that way as long as you wish.”
I nod, although she can’t see it. A stupid habit. “Good,” I say.
“Do you have her date of birth?” she asks.
So I spend the next ten minutes giving her all the relevant details that I can think of.
“Do you think you might be able to help?” I ask, when I’ve finally told her everything.
“I’m the Home Secretary, James. Yes, I think I can help!” she laughs.
There is a slightly awkward pause. It’s as if the Home Secretary wants to say something else, but doesn’t.
“Okay, good. Then, shall I call you when I find something out?” she asks.
“I’d appreciate that,” I reply, trying not to let it show in my tone of voice that I thought her question was a little funny. Of course she should call!
I say good night to her. I hang up. And then I raid the drinks cabinet in the lounge.
Settling back down in my chair on the balcony, I crack open a couple of miniature whiskies and pour them into a glass.
They don’t last long, and soon I am opening up a large bottle of whisky that is on display on one of the bookshelves. Obviously a very expensive bottle. Definitely one that I would never be able to afford.
As I sit under the stars a feeling of helplessness and despair settles over me.
Ever since I arrived in this world, over ‘nine’ years ago, I’ve been constantly fighting to find a way home, or to find Sarah. And now, everything is even further away than ever. Suddenly it just all seems too much.
I’m exhausted.
I may never make the jump back home now. I may never see Keira and Nicole and Sarah again. What the hell am I doing here in the future, anyway?
I rest my head back against the top of the chair, staring up at the universe above me, then close my eyes.
What if Sarah in this world refuses to see me ever again?
And now, knowing that my bastard altered ego me is probably chasing after Sarah in my own world right now… it’s suddenly all too much.
Pointless.
Beyond my control.
Without opening my eyes, I reach for my glass on the table, and tip the rest of whisky into my mouth.
I feel the alcohol coursing through my body, and I welcome the hit I feel as it reaches my brain.
The phone rings.
Blinking my eyes open, I find the phone on the table.
“Home Secretary… sorry, Caroline. It’ss so nice to hear from you again, sso quickly.”
“You too James. Listen, what are you doing just now?”
A direct question. It demands a direct answer.
“Getting drunk. Very drunk. I’ve not been drunk for years, at least eight, and I feel the need.”
“By yourself?” she asks.
“Aha… yes… now that’s a good question, a silly question, actually, given the pandemic and everything…” I hear myself say. Stupidly.
“I need a drink too. Fancy a drinking partner? I’m just across the road actually, still at my office in Marsham Street, not far from you at all, and I could stop by, if you wish. I’ve also got something for you. I could leave it at the reception for you, if you wish. But I’d prefer to hand it to you in person, if possible.”
�
��Sure. The more the merrier. Although, technically, is coming over here just now not against the rules? Given The ’18 and everything?”
“James. We’ve both got Blue Passes. We can do what we want. And plus, technically…it’s me that makes the rules.”
“Good point. Pop on over then, and I’ll pour you a glass of something nice. What do you fancy?”
“Champagne?”
--------------------
As I wait for the Home Secretary of the United Kingdom to ‘pop across’ from an office somewhere nearby, I fetch another glass and a bottle of champagne from the fridge, and try to collect my emotions and thoughts.
Asking the Home Secretary to try and help find Sarah feels a little like going behind the Professor’s back. I know he told me that he had Sarah’s address, but he was reluctant to give it to me because he felt quite strongly it was too early to go and see her. But after today’s revelations, I can’t wait. I need to go and find Sarah. I need to meet my son. And then I need to somehow get back to my world and protect my other family from …from “me”. From my altered ego, Mr Hyde, James 2.
While I’m waiting, I take a quick shower and put on some of the other clothes that I’ve been given to wear in this world.
It’s only as I arrange them all on my bed and try to choose which one to wear to meet the Home Secretary that, for the first time since arriving here in 2021, I notice the subtle changes of style in the modern clothing.
Slightly tighter, narrower cuts. More vivid colours. Rounded edges on smaller collars. I choose a casual blue shirt, and some brown trousers, slightly tighter than I’ve worn before. I also find a new pair of brown, soft leather shoes.
I shave, put on some expensive balm, and tidy my hair.
And bingo, I’m ready.
Once again, the ridiculousness of the whole situation occurs to me, as I stand in the mirror making final adjustments. Last week I was a down-and-out tramp, living on the street. But now, only a week later, I’ll be drinking champagne with the Home Secretary in a penthouse flat in Whitehall.
Am I Dead? Page 22