“Nothing we can’t explain. You escaped. I tried to stop you, but you managed to get Bennett’s gun. I had no choice but to open the gate.”
The old man extended a hand. “You’re a good man, Watson. I won’t forget.” He turned to look over his shoulder as a pickup truck pulled into a parking lot just outside the gate.
********************
Daniel and Jacquelyn climbed into the backseat of Aiden’s car. The front passenger seat seemed to be crammed with electronics, a mobile command center. Daniel didn’t fail to notice the semiautomatic pistol holstered just under the dashboard.
They sped away with Vitoria leading. “Relax. Sleep if you want,” Aiden said, looking in the rearview mirror. “It’ll be a while.”
Sleep didn’t seem likely, but at least the fireworks, if any, were an hour away. Daniel glanced at Jacquelyn, who had transformed once more in both her clothing and manner. A resistance fighter. Or so he imagined.
She reached out a hand, and he took it. “You ready for this?” she asked.
“What, the resistance?”
“No, meeting yourself. If all goes well, that’s what’s going to happen. Kind of weird, don’t you think?”
“As long as it’s a peaceful meeting, I won’t complain.” But she was right. Confronting yourself—not just a twin but a duplication of your own consciousness—would be every kind of weird.
They drove along dark roads of what seemed to be the outskirts of the city and then turned onto a country road with farm fields on either side.
Jacquelyn motioned to his jacket pocket. “Do you have a picture of her?”
Daniel pulled out his phone. “Who?” He suspected he knew but asked anyway.
“Your girlfriend. What’s her name?”
“Nala. You want to see a photo of her?” It seemed an odd request.
“I’ll bet she’s pretty.”
Daniel scrolled through some pictures until he found one of Nala walking on the beach in Haiti. He held the phone for Jacquelyn to see.
“Wow, she’s gorgeous,” Jacquelyn said. “Love the old bikini. We don’t get to wear those anymore.” Jacquelyn swiped her finger across the phone and looked at a few more pictures. A selfie of Daniel and Nala on the dance floor, a restaurant table by the sand. “Do you love her?”
Daniel held a tight smile in check. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“That’s nice,” Jacquelyn said with sincerity. “I wish I had that. Just one guy, that’s really all I want.” She swiped through several more photos. Daniel’s sister and niece. A hike in the Cascades.
Daniel handed the phone to her. “Go ahead, if you’re interested.”
“You don’t mind? I really love looking at the old photos. The way things used to be. My mom has a device like this, and it still works too. She tells me stories. It makes me feel like… you know, like I’m there.”
Daniel smiled. “I’ve got a few stories too.”
She snuggled close. “I’d love to hear them.”
For the next twenty minutes, they swiped through more photos. Daniel reminisced about the “old days,” and Jacquelyn absorbed every word. She was particularly interested in the ordinary things. The furniture in people’s houses, women’s hairstyles, just the fact that people wore glasses, something no one did anymore.
She seemed less interested in the stories related to Fermilab or CERN, including the more fantastic events of his life, like walking through a 4-D portal into the heart of Core. Maybe those things just didn’t register as being real. She explained that all that “alien stuff” happened in Europe or China. America was now very isolated.
The time passed quickly, and soon Aiden slowed as they approached a town. He pulled onto a small gravel road adjacent to a country grocery store and parked, turning off the car lights.
Vitoria parked her car in the front of the same store, but she didn’t get out. A solitary light on a post lit the front of the darkened store.
Aiden checked the display of one of the electronics devices bolted haphazardly to his dashboard. “They’re close,” he said. He signaled an OK sign through the window to Vitoria, who nodded. “If anything goes wrong, we get out fast.”
“And Vitoria?” Jacquelyn asked.
“She’s on her own,” Aiden said. “But we’re not expecting any problems. The driver bringing Daniel here is a good man. Trustworthy.”
Aiden reached for the gun under the dash and checked its magazine. Just being prepared, Daniel hoped.
Toward the east, an orange glow foretold the coming sunrise. A few minutes later, a pickup truck pulled into the grocery store parking lot. The driver stepped out and peered into Vitoria’s car, then opened the passenger door and helped an old man climb out. He had long gray hair and walked slowly.
Vitoria jumped out and grabbed the old man around his waist, helping him into the passenger seat of her car. Once he was seated, she leaned in and kissed him. She flashed a huge smile and another OK sign back to Aiden.
“So far so good. We’ll meet them at Cecille’s.”
“A safe place?” Daniel asked.
“Otherwise known as the resistance café,” Aiden said with a smile. “Good people. They serve a great country breakfast too.”
Thirty minutes later, with the rising sun just peeking over the treetops, they pulled up to a restaurant by the side of the road. There was only one other car in the lot, but the neon sign displaying Cecille’s was lit.
A large black woman showed them to a table in a back room, giving Aiden a hug and whispering in his ear. She brought coffee and they waited.
It wasn’t long. The café door opened, and Vitoria walked in with her husband. He looked ridiculously old. Gray, bloodless skin. Thin to the point of withered. He walked hunched over, one arm linked with his wife, the other hand holding a cane. This man was only in his seventies, but he looked older. Three years in prison might do that.
Daniel’s intellect rebelled. His nerves tingled. What’s the protocol for meeting yourself?
First things first. Daniel jumped up and supported the other side of the old man, helping him to a chair. Vitoria sat next to him, a broad smile across her face.
The two Daniels, young and old, eyed each other. Silent. Observing. The old man grinned, and Daniel grinned back. There was almost no reason to speak. Daniel knew exactly what his counterpart was thinking.
How does this guy differ from me?
The future was sitting right in front of him, connected in some strange way, yet unquestionably a separate consciousness. Like a clone, or maybe a father whose genes had somehow been transferred intact to his son. But it was more than that. Daniel couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. He simply felt it.
“You okay?” he finally asked.
The old man nodded. “Never better.” He examined the handle of his cane. “Had a brief tussle with a guard this morning. My golf game’s not as good as it used to be, and I might have twisted my back a bit. But I’m not complaining.”
He looked around the restaurant and smiled. It probably didn’t matter where he was. Anyplace was better than a prison cell. Daniel didn’t probe further. There was no need. For that matter, there was no need to get acquainted. You already know yourself. Daniel felt it, and he knew the old man felt it too.
Vitoria poured a glass of water for him. She rubbed a hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead.
Just a few feet away, but thirty years into the future, sat Daniel Rice and his Brazilian wife, Vitoria. The idea was mind-boggling, and Daniel could happily observe the bizarre dynamics all afternoon while his analytic mind came up with a hundred questions.
31 Infinite Regression
Daniel faced himself. Perhaps another version of himself who had made his own choices and lived a somewhat different life. But they were still the same person. His self-imposed limits on future knowledge now seemed as unworkable as keeping a kid away from Christmas presents until the adults had poured their morning coffee. It just wasn’t going to happe
n.
Daniel paced the restaurant, unable to sit still with the rest of the group. The first of many questions popped into his head. “You didn’t create that video that called me here, did you?”
The old man shook his head. “No. The same thing happened to me. A faked 3-D video brought me to the future. But you’re one up on me. I never met myself. This is all new.” His voice was scratchy and didn’t really sound like Daniel’s, but most people say they sound funny when they hear their own voice recorded.
“Which confirms this timeline has changed,” Daniel said. “We’re not in a perpetual loop.”
Vitoria looked smug. “As I said.”
Daniel nodded to Vitoria. “Not doubting your view, I’m just looking for evidence.” He returned to the old man. “Your confirmation demonstrates a key element of time that we haven’t talked about yet.”
“Which is?” Vitoria asked.
“We’re not the only Daniels. A third Daniel had to exist for the Committee to create that shard-motion video that called you to your future. And if there’s a third, why not a fourth, and a fifth? You see where I’m going. There may be an infinite regression of Daniels, each jumping to the future at age forty-four and tangling with the Committee in his seventies. The exact circumstances may be different, but there’s no telling how many times a similar scenario has occurred.”
Old man Daniel seemed disturbed by this idea, probably because he recognized the pattern now that he was in contact with his younger self. Vitoria didn’t look any better.
“What’s more,” Daniel said, “I’m the latest Daniel, but probably not the last.”
“Only if you fail,” Vitoria said. “But if you return to your time and prevent the nuclear launch, then the Committee might never form. In that altered timeline, there would be no one to call you to the future. It would break the cycle.”
Daniel nodded, but he wasn’t completely convinced of her argument. There was still something nonsensical about all of this. The evidence of multiple versions of himself sat before him—he couldn’t deny that part. But the idea of multiple timelines meant that anything could happen and probably would. Every event on every timeline was independent. Changes on one timeline had no bearing on the others. Preventing a nuclear launch on his own timeline might save millions of lives, but that same launch would still occur on a thousand other timelines. In the grand scheme, would his actions have any real meaning?
He rubbed his chin and stared at the floor. “I don’t know, I’m just not buying the multiple timelines idea. I guess I never did. It’s the same concept as the multiverse, where every quantum fluctuation spawns an entirely new universe.”
“But didn’t we just prove that multiple timelines exist?” old man Daniel asked. “I jumped to this date, but I have an entirely different memory of it. This must be a different timeline.”
“What if,” Daniel asked, “there’s only one timeline, but the universe allows changes? Time is not a static list of events like a history book; it’s fluid, always changing, but there’s only one flow, one path, one timeline. Your jump from thirty years ago no longer exists anywhere except in your mind. A new history has been written—I just wrote it—and I erased your version of events.”
Old man Daniel nodded, grasping the idea easily. Daniel knew he would. “That means your jump will be replaced when another Daniel comes along behind you.”
“Only if I fail. And that’s not going to happen.” Daniel glanced at Vitoria, who approved his optimism with a large smile. “With your help, I’m going to be the last in a long line of Daniels jumping to the future.”
“But it’s not just this jump,” old Daniel said. “It’s bigger. Think about it. Jumping to the future is not the cause of a succession of Daniels. Those different versions of us would be there anyway, even if we hadn’t jumped.”
Daniel nodded. The old man might be onto something. Of course, the old man was himself. That helped.
The older version continued with their shared theory. “What if there is just one timeline, but events along that line keep flowing repeatedly down that line like waves on a rope? Each wave replaces the wave in front of it. Each wave is a little different than the one before it.”
“I see what you mean,” Daniel said.
“I don’t,” said Jacquelyn. “You want to explain that so the rest of us simpletons can understand it?”
The longer Daniel thought about it, the more it made sense. “He’s saying that we each exist in multiple versions, but on a single timeline. As we move along this line, events come at us, we interact with other people, we make decisions and the world around us changes. But our consciousness is just one wave on that timeline, and the actions we take replace whatever future was written by the previous wave. For better or worse.”
He squatted in front of Jacquelyn. “So, it’s not just me, it’s you too. It’s everyone. An infinite number of ourselves, each moving through time and making the best of the world around us at that instant. My only advantage is that I had the opportunity to peek into the future that I’m now changing.”
She seemed to like the idea now that it had been generalized to include everyone. “So, there’s a future Jacquelyn out there, forging her own path and making her own memories. I might not get to meet her, but I can change anything she did.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea. The future is real, and so is the past.” He pointed to old Daniel and to himself. “But there’s only one timeline, and the events in time are always changing as each wave passes through.”
“A hopeful idea,” older Daniel said, rubbing the same crick in his neck that younger Daniel sometimes got. “I don’t mind being replaced by something better.”
It wasn’t far from the idea Father had brought up, even if the words were different. Instances of a class. One individual among many, all the same person and with a duty to improve their class. Perhaps Father was right.
Vitoria glanced back and forth as the two Daniels talked. A broad smile formed on her face. “I’m enjoying this. It’s funny, I didn’t think I would. But look at this. I have my husband back, and now we have a son who is just as smart.” She rose from her chair and embraced Daniel. “I’m sorry, I must label you. Otherwise, I’ll lose my mind. Or maybe I’m already crazy.”
Daniel shook his head and hugged her tight. “I don’t mind. I’m honored.”
“Hey, youngster,” the old man called out. “That’s my wife you’re fooling around with.”
Daniel took a chair next to his very close relative. “She’s pretty amazing. Determined, brave, resourceful. She got you out of prison. You picked a great wife.”
The old man grinned, and not at Daniel but at Vitoria. “Pretty sure she picked me.”
Vitoria snorted. “Nonsense, we picked each other. He was making eyes at me across a coffee shop and I told him he was being rude.”
The old man reached out for her hand. “She walked right over, pushed my laptop closed and told me I’d better learn some manners or she wouldn’t go out with me. I hadn’t even asked her out.”
They probably weren’t doing it intentionally, but they were sharing a key moment in Daniel’s future. Would the same event happen once more? How often had he sat in a coffee shop staring at his laptop? Perhaps one day he’d look up and notice a much younger Vitoria. He’d probably stare at her too, prompting her to chastise him for bad manners. What would he say to her?
It might be a moot point. He was currently locked in the future with no sure way of returning to his own time. Young Vitoria was just as far away as Nala.
“You two lovebirds should get some time alone,” Daniel said. “But if you don’t mind, we haven’t talked about the single most burning question.”
“Probably about empros time and Becton’s belt,” older Daniel replied.
“Wow. Connected minds.”
“Not really. Vitoria told me about it on the drive over.” He grinned.
Even though his need for information was deadly serious, Dan
iel didn’t mind levity or the breezy conversation. The man had just been freed from prison; he had every right to be happy. But Daniel needed his input. “I seem to be stuck here. Snapback and all that. Maybe you can shed some light. How did you get back?”
Old man Daniel lowered his head and squeezed Vitoria’s hand. “I wish I could help you, I really do. But my jump was different. Simpler.” He looked up. “I never flowed forward. I never left empros time. I walked around a frozen world for most of two days. I gathered what I could and returned to 2023. For me, the dangers Zin mentioned weren’t a factor.” He kissed Vitoria’s hand. “Don’t blame Vitoria; she didn’t know the details because I didn’t tell her.”
His revelation hit Daniel like a punch in the gut. It explained why his version of events was so different. The old man had never interacted with anyone, never met with the Committee or Father, never been given an olinwun. He’d probably pulled information from the whiteboard computer. He would have had access to whatever he might find in desk drawers, even Father’s inner sanctum. But in the end, he returned safely to his own time—exactly as Zin and Chloe had advised.
It also explained why he’d failed to stop the nuclear launch. He’d never met Aiden or anyone else in the resistance. Whatever information he’d gathered was that same mix of real and fake that the Committee managed so well.
Daniel’s decision to flow forward had changed everything, giving him a real chance at changing an ugly history. But it might also produce an early death.
The whole thing felt rotten. Unfair. Yet unavoidable. He could return to 2023. The Committee might even help him do it. The information on the new coin Aiden had provided might even stop the nuclear launch and prevent the Committee from ever forming. But he’d die in the process.
A sacrifice made for others, including other versions of myself.
If his theory of time was correct, another version of himself, following just behind on the timeline, would be unburdened by the history Daniel would erase. With the cycle broken, that even-younger version of himself would never be called to the future, would know nothing of a religious cult that turned into a dominant political force. That version would never meet Jacquelyn and would have no knowledge of Vitoria—unless he happened to meet her in a coffee shop.
The Quantum Series Box Set Page 83