Daniel lowered his head. The dystopian future was bad enough. That his own country was the cause was difficult to accept. But Aiden’s scientific description rang true. It was the most reliable explanation Daniel had heard since he’d arrived.
“Disputed fact number two,” Aiden continued. “You’d think we’d all agree on the date of this holocaust, but even that’s not certain.”
Daniel ventured a guess. “October nineteenth, 2023?” Only a few hours ago that date seemed certain. It gave him ten days to sort things out once he returned. He was beginning to doubt that he’d have that luxury now.
Aiden shook his head. “Probably propaganda, designed to mesh with the dates for other false narratives the government issued. Most people agree, including just about everyone who was an adult at the time that it wasn’t the nineteenth. It was the ninth of October.”
Monday, October 9, 2023. The date when I jumped.
“Holy hell.” Daniel hung his head. “I might already be too late. The belt can’t take me any further back than when I left. About eleven that morning. Eastern time.”
“The missile hit San Francisco at five p.m. that evening. Rush hour. Something everyone remembers, so I know it’s accurate.”
Daniel did the math. “Nine hours to spare, including the time zone difference. Not much to work with.” If he could get back—and even that much was now up in the air—he could relay the captain’s name, the submarine name and time of launch to Griffith. The FBI coupled with the Navy would know what to do from there. They still had a chance, but the timing would be very tight.
Daniel shook his head. “First things first. I’ve got to get that belt back.”
“Yeah.” Aiden paused. “About that…”
“Start at the top,” Vitoria advised. She obviously knew something about the belt she hadn’t yet mentioned.
“All right. Backing up a little,” Aiden said. “Ever heard of Christian reconstructionists?”
Daniel shook his head.
“A fundamentalist movement back in the twentieth century to bring America into compliance with the strictest interpretation of the Bible. It languished in the early 2000s but regained traction after the nuclear strike. Of course, you can find any passage you want in the Bible to support your predefined viewpoint, but some of their preachers were pretty effective in claiming that nuclear weapons were too dangerous to be managed by anyone who didn’t have the direct blessing of God.”
“I think I see where this is going,” Daniel said. That oxymoron, scientific intolerance, was stuck in his thoughts.
“Yeah. They said the military, along with the corporations and scientists who created these weapons, couldn’t be trusted. It became science versus the godly. Of course, we’ve seen this conflict before going all the way back to Galileo, but after the nuclear launch, it kept building. It just wouldn’t go away.”
“The propaganda didn’t help much,” Vitoria said.
“Yeah, America has always done a piss-poor job of defining what is news and what is misinformation. When you don’t have any rules prohibiting it, misinformation always wins. It gives people exactly what they want to hear. Doesn’t matter if it’s true.”
“Confirmation bias,” Daniel said. “People accept what fits within their belief system and reject everything else.”
Aiden stood up and paced the room, his body language becoming more agitated. “So, things got even worse. The Committee formed from the reconstructionist groups and started pressuring politicians. With a lot of money pouring in from TV evangelists, they had plenty to spread around in Washington. It wasn’t long before allegiance to the principle that ‘dangerous science must be controlled’ became a litmus test for anyone holding public office.”
“That’s when scientific intolerance came into the picture,” Vitoria said. “Researchers began to see consequences when they published ordinary scientific papers. It didn’t matter the subject. Astronomy, biology, archeology. Anything that caused offense or that contradicted their beliefs was intolerant. Scientists were fined or lost their government jobs. A few were sent to prison.”
Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “Attacking science isn’t just intellectually senseless, it’s counterproductive. Society doesn’t make much progress without science. At least, that’s what I’d be screaming to anyone who would listen.”
Vitoria lowered her head but couldn’t hide her smile. “Of course you would. My Daniel did too. He was a popular figure, at least within the opposition. Several bestselling books. Regular television appearances. They warned him, but he wouldn’t keep quiet.”
“So, they put him on trial?”
“Worse. They converted him.”
Daniel gagged. “Converted? Not possible. Look, I know myself, and I’m not about to become a follower of any religion.”
Vitoria rolled her eyes and motioned to Aiden. “You tell him, you know the technology better than me.”
Aiden turned to Daniel. “Your time jump is well known. Today’s date has been anticipated in books, movies, documentaries, you name it. But over the years, people became wary about messing with time, in part because your jump occurred just before the nuclear launch. Some people even say you caused the war, though there’s plenty of evidence that you worked hard to stop it.”
“But I failed?” It was a disturbing thought. He already knew the name of the submarine and the captain. Just keep the boat in port and the launch would never happen.
“Yes, you failed. But don’t get me wrong, I’m in agreement with the Committee on this one. I think you can succeed.”
“The second time around is different than the first?” Daniel asked.
“Or maybe this is the ten millionth time in an endless loop.” Vitoria said. “Sorry, that’s very depressing.”
Aiden shrugged. “Look, all we know is that history says you made the jump, returned to 2023 and did your best. For whatever reason, you didn’t prevent the launch, and this disaster is now recorded in our history books. Anyway, dial back to three years ago. Older Daniel, our Daniel, was a pain in their side, but the Committee knew they couldn’t arrest him or put him on trial—he was too popular. So, they went for something just as devastating, maybe worse. They found a loophole, or created one, it doesn’t really matter, and threw him in prison for scientific intolerance without a trial. No public announcement, he just disappeared. And then they used shard-motion technology to create 3-D videos of Daniel saying he’d converted.”
“Shard-motion?”
“A new take on an old con. A method to produce a perfect fake. They record hours of video—a person speaking, for example—and then break the digital results down into small clips of a few pixels each, called shards. They can reassemble the shards into a new video that looks just as real as the original but is complete fantasy. They have software that automatically matches the shards to the facial motions required to say any word, so they can literally type out the words they want Daniel to say, press a button, and create an accurate 3-D video of him saying those exact words.”
“You can’t tell the difference between a shard-motion video and a live broadcast,” Vitoria added.
“Well, you can,” Aiden said, “but you need some pretty sophisticated analysis software, which we have. The Committee put out dozens of Daniel videos and they spread like wildfire across the olinwun network. Daniel meeting Father. Daniel giving thanks to the Committee for showing him the god he’d never understood. Daniel renouncing the unmanaged science of the past.”
“Daniel telling me to come to the future,” Daniel said.
Vitoria nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
The depth of the deception was beginning to become clear. Daniel sighed. “They showed me a second video where he spoke directly into the camera and told me to trust them. Crafted on the spot, I suppose. Can they do that?”
Aiden nodded. “Just type the words and push a button. Once all the shards are in a database, they can generate a new video in seconds. Misinformation w
orks, particularly when backed by good technology. The net effect of their three-year campaign made their supporters joyous that a strong critic had converted to their side. Of course, the opposition was skeptical but remained supportive of the Daniel they knew. In the end, everyone came around to loving Daniel Rice.”
“Explains a lot,” Daniel said with a shake of his head. There hadn’t been a single person he’d met that wasn’t happy he was here.
“But it all changed last April,” Jacquelyn said. She’d been listening quietly. Perhaps she’d heard these revelations before, or at least wasn’t surprised by them.
“Yes, in April, they produced another video of Daniel in a hospital. He looked genuinely sick. I don’t know how they managed that, but we confirmed it was a fake. At first, we thought they’d concocted the story of his death as cover for actually killing him. But if our informants are correct, he’s still in prison. Or was, as of last week.”
“We’re worried, though,” Vitoria said. “The enforcers could give the order to eliminate him at any time.”
Aiden stood up and walked over to her. He squatted and held her hand. “Vitoria, we’re not going to let that happen. We’ve got the plan worked out and plenty of help on the inside. It’s risky, but I’m confident we can get him out.”
“Yes, but can you keep him alive once he’s out?” She looked bitter. “The enforcers will be everywhere.”
“We’ll get him. He’ll be safe,” Aiden assured.
Vitoria soured further and turned to Daniel. “You’d better hope Aiden is right. My Daniel is the only person who knows how to get you home alive.”
29 Convolutions
The conversation had turned to the single most important topic—Daniel’s return to 2023. An ominous turn, if Daniel had interpreted Vitoria’s words correctly. Only older Daniel knew how to get home alive, and he was in prison.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” Aiden hung his head. “I’m no expert on time jumps, but my contacts in Europe describe something called snapback.”
Zin had warned about it. Brother Christopher had said it could be managed. Father had scoffed at it. But if snapback was real, the human body wouldn’t survive the return to uncompressed time. Damage to the atomic structure, disruption of the cardiovascular system resulting in a full-body hemorrhage. A nasty way to go. Becton had died from it, as far as anyone could tell.
“Their guy in Committee Reception, Christopher, said that temporal dislocation was the real issue but told me that adjustments to the belt would solve it. Was he lying?”
“He’s lying,” Aiden said.
“Just remember,” Jacquelyn said. “Reception doesn’t know half of what goes on in Security, my floor. And Security is probably just as clueless about the next level up. Brother Christopher is a good man, I can personally vouch for that. But he might not know.”
A lie begun at the top and perpetuated by underlings who accepted it as truth was the hardest to detect. In hindsight, it had been probably a mistake to turn over the belt, even if Christopher was an honest man. If snapback was real, Daniel’s fate had been sealed as soon as he’d flowed forward into the future.
“So there’s no going back now?”
“I didn’t say that,” Aiden answered. “There’s no question you can get back to your own time. It’s just that…”
“I won’t survive long.”
Aiden nodded, unable to make eye contact. He reached into a pocket, pulled out a shiny coin with an eagle hologram and handed it to Daniel. “You already know about the submarine, but the same info is reproduced on the olinwun, in case… you know. Plus, there’s intelligence on the early reconstructionists. Our main problem is that most of them are deceased today. But back in 2023, they wouldn’t be hard to track down. Routine police work. All the details and contacts are there. Plus, I’ve hacked this olinwun’s geolocation feature. The Committee can’t track it.”
The room became deathly quiet while Daniel absorbed a new reality. It was a different path than his predecessor had taken. Probably a good thing since the older version of himself had failed to prevent the launch. Aiden might be offering the only path to success.
If dying for a cause is considered success.
He examined both sides of the olinwun, not looking for anything in particular. Whatever data it contained wouldn’t be visible, but the FBI had already figured out how to read the device. All Daniel had to do was hand the coin over to someone with authority, and his part in this mission was complete.
He pictured Becton stumbling into the Orlando police station, blood running from his nose and ears, doing very much the same thing. In Daniel’s case, it might be Agent Griffith accepting the coin—if Daniel could find him before dying.
Staring at the coin, Daniel asked the question that had been on his mind since Aiden had provided the bad news. “Why do you think they want me dead?” The Committee had explicitly told him to flow forward. It’s your only path, the note on the whiteboard had said. Now it was painfully clear that those instructions had ensured his death.
“Well, there’s the political reason,” Aiden answered. “You were trouble for them for many years. Bringing you to the future was one way to shut you up.”
Daniel pondered the idea and shook his head. “No, that can’t be it. Father was convinced of the multiverse theory of time—that there are many paths and many instances of each of us. Bringing me to the future doesn’t erase the aggravation my older self already caused. For Father, that water is already under the bridge.”
Jacquelyn shook her head. “My brain hurts just trying to follow this.”
“Yeah, it’s really convoluted,” Daniel said. “But lay it out logically. If the information on the olinwun they gave me is bogus, that means they want me to return to my own time. They’re certain to give the belt back to me because it’s the only way that bogus information is going to get to 2023.”
“True,” Aiden said. “They want you to fail. They want the nuclear launch to happen.”
“So, I return to my time, I die, and the coin does all the talking from there. But its message is a deception.”
Exactly what happened to Becton.
“Sad, but that part makes sense,” Aiden said. “What doesn’t make sense is the multiple paths theory. Your failure would just create a new path. Here in 2053, we’re unaffected. So why do it?”
Daniel thought about the question for a minute. The answer had been there all along. “We have to think like Father. He’s preoccupied with his fate, almost obsessed. He talked about being an instance of a class and having a duty to his class. He talks about many versions of himself out there, and every version must help the others.”
“So weird,” Jacquelyn said.
“Yeah,” Daniel continued. “But it explains his motivation. Sending me to my death, along with bogus information, ensures the launch takes place and eliminates me from that timeline. A two-for-one. If there’s another version of Father who inhabits my timeline, he benefits.”
Aiden nodded in agreement. “As bizarre as your interpretation sounds, I think I agree. But there’s good news too. We already disrupted half of that plan when Vitoria dumped the bogus olinwun. This new coin is valid, and unless somebody examines it closely, they won’t know the difference.” He shrugged. “Of course, I still don’t have a way to get you back home in one piece. Once they tricked you into flowing forward, it was game over.”
“Not over,” said Vitoria. She held her chin in her hands, elbows on knees. She looked deep in thought.
“Sure,” said Aiden. “There’s whatever Daniel in prison knows, if we can get him out.”
She leaned back. “My Daniel told me about his jump. He returned safely. I don’t know how, I never understood the details, but whatever he did, you must do the same.”
“Maybe it really is a time loop,” Daniel said. “I get hooked into the future by Committee treachery and then ask myself how to get back to my own time, so I can then grow old and repeat the s
ame process every thirty years. Maybe it’s happened a million times. Maybe it’s been looping forever.”
Aiden blew out a breath. “Whew, heavy stuff.”
Vitoria stood up, pacing. “No, no, no.” Her voice was angry, growing in intensity. “It’s not the same! This, right now, the four of us in this room. It’s not the same. When my Daniel jumped, there was no future Daniel in prison, there was no resistance group that kidnapped him from a party, no pretty girl with propositions, no safe house. For my Daniel, none of this ever happened. If it had, he would have told me about it. He would have known they would come to arrest him.”
Daniel shrugged. “Yeah. He would have been me, listening to you say this.”
She rubbed her temple with eyes closed. “That night when they broke down our door, beat him and dragged him away, I assure you the shock on his face was very real. He didn’t know it was coming.”
“So, it’s not a loop,” Daniel said, even though he still wasn’t sure.
Vitoria stood over him. “No, it isn’t a loop. We changed it. Jacquelyn and I prepared for weeks to take you from the party. Aiden recorded data on this olinwun.” She spread her arms wide. “This day, this moment—right now—has never happened before. We changed our path.” She pointed a finger at Daniel. “And you can too.”
Daniel listened, doing his best to absorb her point of view. Events in time were malleable and layered, allowing for multiple paths even while permitting the bizarre implications that came with jumping to the future. It was a fair explanation, and so far, it matched the facts. He was even ready to accept her challenge to change his own path.
But he wasn’t quite ready to accept his death as a consequence of that change. Vitoria herself had suggested the solution.
The Quantum Series Box Set Page 81