Out of Time

by E W Barnes

  “Is there some way we can use your program to figure out when in the future Sharon was taken?” Caelen asked.

  Agent Diogo looked thoughtful. “We could try incorporating the data generated when she was shifted to the future into the simulation and see if it will generate accurate temporal coordinates.”

  She moved to a workstation where she pulled up a screen and activated it, tying the tablet to the workstation computer to download the data. There was a long silence as they waited.

  “Something’s not right,” she said finally as she tapped the screen.

  “What’s wrong?” Caelen said.

  “The system’s been slow all day, but now it appears frozen. I don’t understand….” she turned to look at Director Veta.

  “Agent MacGregor, didn’t you experience a system slowdown recently?” Director Veta asked in a soft voice.

  “Yes, I did,” he answered, looking even more grim than he had a moment before. “I reported it to temporal computing but have heard nothing yet.”

  “Please follow up, Agent MacGregor. This has become your highest priority,” Director Veta ordered.

  Agent MacGregor nodded curtly and left the room.

  “Highest priority?” Caelen protested. “Finding Sharon should be our highest priority!”

  “Agent Winters, I assure you it is. These priorities are the same. I suspect Sharon’s disappearance and the system slowdown are connected.”

  A loud blaring sound interrupted before Caelen responded.

  “That’s the emergency signal,” Agent Diogo exclaimed in alarm.

  “Excuse us, Agent Diogo. Please keep working on finding the temporal coordinates to when Agent Gorse was shifted in the future,” Director Veta instructed as she hurried out.

  Caelen was torn between remaining to see what Agent Diogo might learn or joining the director in case the emergency was related to Sharon’s disappearance. Reluctantly he followed Director Veta.

  He did not have to go far. Director Veta and several TPC security personnel were clustered at the entrance to the hall that housed the temporal amplifier units used by agents. They were speaking in hushed voices, tones that made Caelen’s stomach tighten. He stopped outside the circle of agents speaking hurriedly to Director Veta.

  “Something terrible has happened,” a voice said quietly next to him. It was Assistant Director Miranda Noon.

  “Sharon…” Caelen started in a choked voice.

  “No, it’s not Sharon,” Miranda said as more security agents arrived followed by medical staff. “An agent was killed trying to shift back to TPC headquarters.”

  “How?” Caelen asked. “Were they on a dangerous assignment?”

  “No,” Miranda shook her head, the recording lenses in her eyes having turned the deep orange of alarm. “It was a routine shift, gathering chrono-historical information. We don’t know what happened.”

  “Director!” Agent MacGregor called out from across the atrium.

  Director Veta nodded in response to an agent’s statement and turned to face Agent MacGregor.

  “I can see from your face you’re the bearer of bad news, Chausiku.”

  “I am. Perhaps we should go to your office?”

  “There’s no point. Word of this will spread faster than we can manage it. Give me the bad news and we'll handle it from there.”

  Agent MacGregor cleared his throat and glanced around as if still trying to curtail the spread of whatever he was about to report.

  “Temporal computing has found a virus, Director. A computer virus. In the mainframe itself.”

  “Why was it not discovered earlier?” Director Veta’s face darkened.

  “According to temporal computing, the virus was designed to mimic background data until it was activated. The virus detection program was not designed to filter background data.”

  “Do they know the source of the virus?”

  “No, but the first appearance of the virus coincides with Yorga Zintel’s, ah, departure.”

  Director Veta looked back to where the security agents and medical personnel were carefully loading a body for transport.

  “This death?” Director Veta’s voice was cold.

  Agent MacGregor nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid it appears the virus caused this death.”

  “And because the temporal mainframe connects to all times, there is no time in the past or future that we can travel to safely,” Miranda said.

  “What do you mean? If we use a temporal amplifier we will die?” Caelen started incredulously.

  Agent MacGregor looked stricken.

  “The more the temporal mainframe is used the more damage the virus will do. Our agents in the field are trapped in the past.”

  “Which means we can’t find Sharon and she can’t get back to us,” Caelen said through gritted teeth.

  Director Veta moved quickly across the atrium, speaking rapidly to Miranda, who was taking instructions through her specialized contact lenses. Caelen followed them, uninvited and unnoticed for now.

  “Is there anyone scheduled for a return in the next few minutes?”

  “No, however that doesn’t account for emergency shifts,” Miranda answered.

  “Make an immediate system-wide announcement restricting all temporal amplifier use. Instruct agents in the field to implement emergency infiltration and assimilation protocols until further notice.”

  “Yes, Director.”

  “Go, make the announcement - I don’t want to risk losing anyone else. Join me in my office when that’s completed. I must contact President Platt and the World Government and inform them of our status.”

  Miranda was back in the director’s office within minutes. Caelen took a seat close to the door in case the director ordered him to leave. So far, she had not.

  “I’ve made the announcement, Director,” Miranda said.

  “Good, thank you. I’m contacting President Platt now,” Director Veta said as she accessed the computer terminal embedded in her desk. Her fingers froze as the overhead lights flickered.

  “What now?” she murmured.

  The flickering increased, accompanied by a faint humming. Caelen, Miranda, and the Director stood, and Miranda moved to the window. There was a flash of light followed by a long, deep rumbling. The humming grew to a drone.

  Another flash and the holographic sky outside the building flared white. Images of trees and bushes on the boundaries of their underground home became fuzzy, grew brighter, then blinked out. Roughly hewn rocks were illuminated briefly before the grounds went dark. They were entombed in blackness.

  With a buzz, emergency generators started up. Lights came back on at half power.

  “Do we still have communications?” Miranda asked as Director Veta returned to her desk.

  “Yes,” the Director said. “I’m connecting now.”

  “Ferhana!” President Platt gasped. His face was white. “We’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour.”

  “I’m afraid I must report the death of an agent, Mr. President. Another of our agents has been kidnapped and we’ve discovered a virus in the temporal mainframe. We just lost main power…” Director Veta began.

  “It’s the rift!” the President interrupted. “They have opened the rift.”

  “The rift… but how? What about the safeguards?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s open. They are here. Their armies are pouring through as we speak. We are marshaling our forces, but we are outmanned and outgunned. We believe their target is TPC headquarters. You’ve got to get your people out of there.”

  “I’ll order an immediate evacuation,” Director Veta replied.

  “We’ll hold them off as long as we can,” President Platt responded.

  Communication was cut off abruptly.

  “Computer, general announcement mode.” Director Veta’s voice was harsh with fear.

  “General announcement mode ready,” a mechanized voice responded.

  “Agents and staff of the TPC
this is Director Ferhana Veta. I’m ordering an immediate evacuation of TPC headquarters. This is not a drill. Please calmly proceed to the nearest exits. Again, begin immediate evacuation. This is not a drill.”

  Director Veta closed her eyes, then looked to Miranda and Caelen.

  “Miranda, I want you on top, coordinating on the surface. I’ll stay here to make sure everyone gets out.” The director opened a desk drawer and handed Miranda a device similar to a temporal amplifier remote control, only much smaller. “Use this to communicate with me as needed,” she said as she clipped a second device to her neckline.

  “How can I help, Director?” Caelen asked.

  “Keep people calm, keep people moving,” Director Veta answered, with the first note of anxiety in her voice. “I’ll join Chausiku’s team in searching the building to make sure we leave no one behind. Let’s go.”

  A crowd was forming in the elevator bay and security agents were working to keep people calm and orderly. Miranda spoke with one and then returned. Worry could be seen again in her deeply orange eyes.

  “Director, the power has been cut to the elevators and the stairs have been blocked by explosives. We are trapped.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  2204 - The Saboteur

  Agent MacGregor came up behind Miranda after confirming all exits to the surface were blocked.

  “What do we do now, Director?” he asked quietly.

  Director Veta took a deep breath.

  “Gather everyone in the meeting hall. We’ll plan our next steps together. Reassure everyone that we’re in no immediate danger,” she added as he turned away.

  Where before the predominant emotion was worry, as people filed into the hall behind the atrium Caelen saw the first signs of anxiety: crossed arms and wringing hands here, wide eyes there, accompanied by furtive conversations and furrowed brows. Caelen understood how they felt. He, too, was on edge.

  Director Veta and Miranda waited on the raised platform waiting for all staff to arrive. They fielded quiet questions from those at the front trying to take advantage of their proximity to the director and assistant director to ease their fears. Miranda and Director Veta would only politely reply:

  “We’ll share everything we know when all staff have joined us in just a few moments.”

  Soon Agent MacGregor stepped into the doorway and, once he had Director Veta’s attention, dropped his head in a slow and deliberate nod. Everyone was there.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, as you know we’ve experienced a system-wide power loss, and that I ordered an immediate evacuation. Now we have learned both the elevators are nonfunctioning and the staircases are inaccessible. For the time being we are stuck here.

  “What you don’t know is why I ordered the evacuation. Before we lost communication with the surface, President Platt informed me that our world is under attack from the parallel earth of the Alexander Event. Somehow, they reopened the rift and we are being invaded.”

  There were gasps, cries, and screams in response to this announcement. Several people shouted questions.

  “What about the temporal amplifiers? Can’t we shift to safety?” someone called out.

  “We’ve determined the temporal mainframe has been infected with a virus. Tragically, the virus has killed an agent returning from an assignment. Until we can eradicate it, we cannot use the temporal amplifiers without risking more lives.”

  “What about the agents in the field? How will they get back?”

  “For now, our agents in the field will have to remain in the past until they can safely return.”

  “For how long?” another person shouted. “How long before their presence in the past impacts the future?”

  Director Veta exchanged glances with Miranda. “We’ll have to deal with that when we can.”

  The response this time was a quiet growl, like the sound of the ocean from a distance. It flowed across the room as people expressed their dismay, fear, and anger to their neighbors.

  “What are we going to do?” a woman in the middle of the room yelled.

  “We are safe for the moment,” the Director said. “We will remain in the TPC and continue to work on eradicating the virus and clearing a safe path to the surface.”

  “What about our families?” a man shouted. “Are they safe? What’s the World Government doing to protect them? Can we talk to them?”

  “I’m afraid we’ve had no further contact from the World Government and communications have been cut off. We don’t have any information about what’s happening on the surface.”

  “How’re we going to get out of here?” another woman exclaimed. “We have to help our families!”

  More shouts: “Yes!” and “Why can’t we bring them here?” and “Why aren’t you doing something?”

  Director Veta held up her hand and the room slowly quieted down. Caelen saw Agent MacGregor making note of who took the longest to stop talking.

  “I know you’re frightened and worried for your families. We all are. We’ve told you all we know. If you have any ideas on how we can proceed, please share them with us.”

  Low murmurs. Then a man spoke up.

  “Does this have anything to do with the disappearance of Assistant Director Zintel and Agent Fernley?”

  The room grew silent in anticipation of her answer. Director Veta took a deep breath. She had shared very little with TPC staff about Yorga Zintel’s membership in and Jonas Fernley’s defection to the Chestnut Covin. At the time she thought it was in the TPC’s best interests to protect staff from the ugliness of the betrayal. Considering recent events, she now wondered if that was a mistake.

  “We don’t know,” she admitted.

  “I heard Yorga Zintel created another timeline,” someone else said.

  “That’s true,” the Director responded as many in the room inhaled in shock. “It was Agent Winters and Assistant Director Noon,” she nodded to both. “Along with Agent Fernley and Agent Gorse, who set things right.”

  “Where is Agent Gorse?”

  Director Veta looked even more uncomfortable. “We don’t know. We believe she was abducted.”

  “Doesn’t that mean the Chestnut Covin is involved?” a woman asked.

  The phrase Chestnut Covin rippled through the room.

  “That might be the case. The truth is, we have very little information to go on,” the Director said, but the murmurs in the room were growing louder. The initial shock was wearing off. People were frightened and giving-in to their instinctual fear responses - freeze, flight, or fight mode.

  “How can we be safe here if someone has cut off our access to the surface?” a man shouted. Others answered him: “Yeah!” and “We can’t!” and “We have to get out of here!”

  Agent MacGregor’s security teams were spreading out along the walls readying themselves to stop a riot. The staff of the TPC was morphing into an angry mob.

  “We need to give them something to do,” Miranda whispered to Director Veta. “They need to be productive to help them manage their fear.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” the Director said. She raised her hands to the crowd. “We need volunteers,” she shouted over the noise.

  It took two more shouts for people to focus their attention on her again.

  “Volunteers for what?” a man asked suspiciously.

  “We need people to help us organize our resources - we must collect food, clothing, and medical supplies. Anything that can be of use.”

  “Director!” Agent MacGregor called from the back of the room. “I think we should try to find the old access tunnel, the one used when the space for TPC headquarters was originally excavated.”

  “That’s right!” a woman shouted. “The tunnel leads to the CERN facilities. We might get to the surface from there.”

  “Good idea,” Director Veta nodded.

  “We should also keep trying to eradicate the virus from the mainframe,” Agent Diogo added.

  “Very good. Those who wish to help coordinat
e resources, report to Assistant Director Noon. Those who are volunteering to locate the access tunnels, please see Agent MacGregor. Those with the appropriate background to help with purging the mainframe, please join Agent Diogo.”

  The mob broke apart into clusters of volunteer teams. In the span of just a few minutes the mood of the room transformed from angry turmoil to focused action. There were very few who did not immediately join a team; most of those waited to talk with the director for one last moment of reassurance before heading off to help with the tasks.

  Agent MacGregor remained behind until it was just the two of them. He looked at Director Veta without speaking.

  “Caelen?” was all she said. Agent MacGregor nodded in response.

  “Just make sure he’s never left alone,” she instructed.

  Agent MacGregor nodded again and departed.

  Soon groups were leaving the hall to gather all the food and water to be found. With the power out, the automated meal dispensers would not function, but there were provisions elsewhere. They removed from stasis lockers foods collected from different times for later study. There were personal snacks found in offices and micro-apartments. There were also the orchards behind the building. One intrepid party found flashlights in the chrono-history storage lockers and harvested fruit from the trees in the darkness under the rocky roof of what was now a cavern instead of a holographic sky.

  Others returned to the hall with piles of clothes from all different eras in human history, and tools and items available to the chrono-historians for their research. They gathered medical resources from herbal remedies to antibiotics and viral cocktails. Ten bio containment suits were set against a wall to one side of the hall. Director Veta fervently hoped they would not be needed.

  Another group also carrying flashlights could be seen on the outer perimeter of the cavern, searching for the sealed entrance to the old tunnel. This group was gone the longest and was almost the last to report back to Director Veta in the hall.

  “We found the tunnel,” Agent MacGregor said in a quiet voice, though those nearby smiled and some quietly cheered. He was covered with dirt and perspiration but radiated satisfaction that his quest had been successful. “I don’t think it’s been used since the access was closed off and there have been rock falls and at least one cave-in. It’ll take some time to reinforce it for us to travel safely, but it shouldn’t be hard to do.”