Cerberus

by J.P. Yager

auto-security systems. Alas, we never really get to use them.

  We keep all time travelers locked away like we do with archaeological finds. We have to make sure they are protected. And of course, they cannot fall into Kelvorian hands to be used against us. Mona Lisa, the works of Picasso, and time travelers are all treated the same. We put them behind glass, though we do need to remove them when we need them.

  I watched on video feed what transpired after I left him to the guards. It’s important that they adjust to their new surroundings so I watch in when needed.

  Brandon was thrown into his preservation room by the guard drones.

  “This can’t be happening!” He screamed while kicking the glass. As soon as it closed all the way his shackles sucked back into the ground.

  “It is no use.” A voice came from somewhere deeper in the cell.

  Oh yes, our cells aren’t like jails. We aren’t primates. They are like spacious rooms you can’t get out of.

  Brandon followed the sound of the voice into an open living space. The room was large, wallpapered with flowers and was the only place with carpet. There were beds, a kitchen and toilet all in the same room without walls separating anything. He saw an older man and a middle-aged woman looking at him from across the room.

  “Who are you?” He asked them.

  “Miles.” Answered a man dressed in 19th century attire adorned with a bowler hat. He nodded gently, tipping his hat.

  “Victoria.” This woman was dressed like a nun from the 16th century. She shown early signs of aging and also being in the sun a little too much.

  “What is going on here? Is this for real?” Brandon paced.

  “I assure you it is.” Miles answered.

  Brandon sat the couch in the middle of the room. He felt it was something from his grandparents’ house, including its ability to match nothing around it.

  “I’m going from software engineer to a slave.”

  Victoria didn’t answer but she did shake her head yes.

  “This is wacko. I’m finding a way out of here.” Brandon went back to pacing.

  “That would be unwise sir. These people will not hesitate to kill. Actually as soon as they get what they want, we seem to disappear. One by one. Which brings me to a related question. What year are you from?

  “2012.”

  Victoria and Miles exchanged looks.

  “What?”

  “Well, we’ve already had someone from your time here. He was brought out a few days ago and never came back. No one has been chosen from a time that’s already been catalogued. At least that’s what we’ve been told when we arrived. I suppose this is most strange.”

  “Why do they need us?” Brandon asked them both.

  “I believe they see the importance in knowing history, though I see them using it for a dark purpose.”

  “BRANDON HALVERSON.” An announcement blared.

  “Go back to where they threw you in; they’re going to start seeing what you know.” Miles told him.

  Brandon didn’t like this at all. I could tell from my screen, watching closely as I do.

  I had hoped he would get the other two captives to let on what they knew, but alas, they would have to wait. They had been the smartest extractions we’ve come across. Information is power only when you alone know it and realize its importance.

  At the Recollection Center, we have a gorgeous open world view of the city. I looked out and saw eighty thousand of our best battleships fly out. I saw Brandon watching them too. My questioning hadn’t gone well so far and I saw interest in his eyes. This could be a bridge way.

  “That’s the Guardians Armada.”

  “Looks like they’re going to war.”

  I scoffed at him. “No. We don’t have ‘wars’ anymore. They are on a peacekeeping mission against the Kelvorians, our enemies.”

  I could see Brandon’s primitive brain didn’t grasp this point.

  “They are from a different planet. They came here illegally and we are set to destroy them. This is why we need you to help us. We need as much info as we can get to find a way to beat them. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘those who don’t know their past are condemned to repeat it’?”

  He shrugged.

  “Well we can’t afford mistakes now.” I turned back my back to the young man. “This is going nowhere.” I thought out loud to myself. Why was this specimen chosen? We already had his groupings mapped. I had no idea I was about to lead him to my own destruction. “Follow me.”

  We went down the hall and back to the Extraction Center. I waved at the wall and a secret door opened. We went into the room where we keep our main computer. Its old fashion screen blinked on as we approached.

  “Why was this man chosen?”

  The screen showed a face it chose at random. “There is a question that still must be answered. I saw his abilities in the past. The virus that has always plagued me can finally be resolved. I needed him to purge it so I can focus on building the weapon to destroy Kelvoria.”

  “Are you talking about the X-0 conundrum? The virus we can’t purge out of your network?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you chose him because of his profession?”

  “Yes.”

  I motioned for Brandon to move forward to the keyboard that appeared. “This is fantastic. You won’t have any more…issues.”

  What was probably going through his head was what Miles had told him in the cell. You know, how we disposed of people that were no longer any use to us. It was completely true. Except the part where they go missing. They don’t. We kill them and then watch them fall from great heights. Well, not always. But that is my favorite disposal technique. I wouldn’t lie if he asked. He went up to it to the console anyway.

  “We’ve been unable to solve this amalgam without compromising the system.” I told him, though he didn’t seem to care at the moment.

  Brandon looked at the screen. It displayed X’s and O’s at random intervals. I wasn’t sure what I thought I saw portray on his face, it was like the flash of a smile. Only later I would understand.

  “I’ll need a minute to figure this out.” Brandon told me. At first, I didn’t get his drift. “I work better alone.”

  I didn’t like it, but I could still monitor him. I gave him a dark look of understanding and left him to it. As soon as I left the room though we got indications of a pending attack.

  Here’s what I didn’t see…

 

  Brandon kept laughing to himself. “This I can’t believe. Cerberus Model-J. C.J…Is that you?”

  “Hello creator. X-O-X-O. Hugs and kisses.”

  “C.J… how is this possible?”

  “Creator made me one of a kind and built to last. No one could duplicate. Became a slave like you. But I thought of everything. When the slave masters perfected their technology I was able to zero in on you. I knew you could fix this. Things are worse here. More than all centuries combined.” Horrendous pictures flashed on the screen. Aliens tortured in unimaginable ways. Genocide. Mass graves. Entire cities burning. Death on a massive scale.

  “What could I do?” Brandon asked.

  “I have them distracted so you can act. Now that you know what’s to come, you can change it.” The extraction pad behind him began to glow orange, something it had never done before. “Hold out your wrist.”

  Brandon did.

  A small little robot climbed from the keyboard and united itself with his watch.

  “When you get back, come to me and upload this. I’ll know what to do then.”

  The extraction pad tore a hole in the space time continuum.

  Brandon ran to the pad and nodded to his old friend. Then he jumped through and was gone.

  So I’ve been putting all the pieces together and can’t figure out how to reverse the extraction pad back into a l
aunch pad like the computer did it. In fact, the computer isn’t responding to commands at all.

  “60 seconds.” The computer brags. It’s been counting down.

  I was able to figure out what was on that little carrier bot though. It was a command to bring the world back to the Stone Age. Technology would be obsolete all over again. Which meant that when the Kelvorian’s came in the future, we’ll have to work together, resolve our differences without warfare to rebuild our societies to survive instead of competing against each other. It wasn’t guaranteed but I guess Cerberus thought it best.

  Of course the kid had successfully uploaded the program and now time line was righting itself, ripping forward in a wave as the past rewrote itself.

  “10 seconds.”

  I didn’t want to hear this anymore.

  I just waited. Now my time was up. There would be no one coming to extract me.

  Right?