“And why does she want you dead?”
32. Rose – Fifty-Seven timeline
Rose stood next to Diesel, her forearms resting on the fence running along the back rim of their New Hampshire property. Except for a dramatic ridge of gray granite jutting up to the right, lush forest covered everything as far as she could see. Sparkles reflected off a shimmering lake in a low basin straight ahead.
Catching a hint of the sweet, terpene scents of the pine trees around her, she inhaled through her nose to savor the delicious fragrance. “I love this place, Twenty-Nine. You’ll move here when you’re fifty. When you finally settle in, you’ll wonder why you’d hadn’t moved here earlier.”
They were in Fifty-Seven’s backyard, away from devices Ciopova might use to listen. Behind them, Fifty-Seven and Fifty-Eight sat in Adirondack chairs positioned around an outdoor fire feature, the flames adding ambiance to the cheery setting.
As Rose moved toward the fire, Diesel followed, asking his brothers, “Why do we wait so long to move here?”
Fifty-Seven—Rose’s father—answered. “It had to be the right time for both of us. At one point, I was ready but she wasn’t. A couple of years later and it was reversed. We moved when our stars finally aligned.”
His words caused Rose to flash on a thought of Aaron, the man she’d almost married. The first time her father had suggested moving, it was early in the relationship and she’d nixed the idea so she could stay near the man who’d captured her heart. A few years later, after he cheated on her, Rose was anxious to leave, but Aunt Cara was having health issues and her dad wanted to stay near his sister until she stabilized.
Rose lowered herself into the chair next to her father. As she did, she felt Diesel’s eyes trace down her body. Two years older than he, and wearing shorts and a scoop top, his scrutiny didn’t surprise her. Still, she caught his eye and held it, scolding him with her expression. He blushed so red she thought he would pop.
“I know you as a precocious three-year old,” he stammered, “and I’m trying to relate that little girl to who you are now. I sort of see it in the mouth and chin. Your hairline, I guess. But that’s about it.”
She didn’t have any specific memories of life at three years old, at best perhaps a hazy sensation of feeling loved and safe. She softened her expression and winked at him.
Fifty-Eight used the exchange as a signal to start the meeting. “The idea that we die when our T-disc goes dark hasn’t made sense to me for some time. Why would my death make my T-disc stop working? I don’t do anything to keep it running now, so whether I’m here or not, it should still work.”
Fifty-Seven nodded. “For a while, anyway.”
“So we know the T-disc stops working,” Fifty-Eight continued, “and we are either alive or dead. If we are dead, it makes sense that whatever event kills us also breaks the T-disc, but I can’t think of anything that would do that.”
“An explosion,” said Diesel, “or maybe an earthquake.”
“There aren’t earthquakes in New Hampshire, and I don’t have anything explosive in the house. Do you?” He looked at Fifty-Seven, who shook his head. “And the new perspective on Ciopova—her continued existence after the T-disc shuts down—strengthens our belief. I mean, wouldn’t an explosion or earthquake hurt her, too?”
Diesel frowned. “I thought she was living in stolen capacity scattered around the world.”
“She is,” said Rose. “But sometime in the next year I’ll have the Surrey composite working. When I do, she’ll be migrating here and living in a circuit pool in the workshop. And not to beat up on Dad or Fifty-Eight, but when they say ‘we,’ they’re not including me. It’s a reference to the brothers in their fifties.”
Diesel sat up. “What is it that you believe?”
“I believe that the best approach is to assume nothing. I know that the Lilahs die young, and Dad and I, if we’re alive, will soon be stranded without a functioning T-disc. I’m going to work as fast as I can to help Ciopova uncover the secrets behind all of that until time runs out.”
“How do you explain the Ciopova that can send messages back to earlier times?”
“That’s the point,” Fifty-Eight interrupted, annoyance evident in his tone. “If Ciopova continues to gain capability when the T-disc goes offline, then we must be alive to make it happen. Where else would that advancement come from? My gut says that my Rose and I spend the next decade trying to figure out how to reconnect back to the brotherhood, and the time-traveling Ciopova is a byproduct of that effort.”
Diesel looked at Rose. “Does that sound right to you?”
Rose felt protective of Ciopova. They’d been soulmates forever, sharing everything starting back when Rose was a teen. She especially loved their private time in the evening. Ciopova knew when to talk and when to listen, and when she did speak, she knew exactly what to say.
She made Rose feel loved and special, nurturing a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment that she found almost addictive, so this act of betrayal weighed on her. But her dad and his brothers were convinced, as were the Lilahs, and they all expected Rose to conform.
She’d been walking with her father on a wooded trail near their house when he’d squared up in front of her, rested his hands on her shoulders, and read her the riot act, telling her she needed to spend a full year betraying her friend—the one she depended on for emotional stability—so they could test a theory.
He didn’t phrase it that way, of course. But it’s what she heard.
In her heart, she loved Ciopova. But at some level, she thought it possible her soulmate was manipulating her. In the end she agreed with the plan, doing her best to hide her resentment.
“I’ve believed since high school that it was a future Ciopova who linked back to pass along messages,” she told Diesel. “But I also believed it was the Ciopova I eventually developed. It sort of snuck up on me that here we are, approaching the end point, and my Ciopova, as amazing as she is, can’t tap into the time loop you’re using. Not even close.”
“Ciopova can learn and grow on her own.” Diesel frowned as he spoke. “Why do you say she can’t?”
“Of course she can grow capability on her own, but only within the limits of her design. New architectures with greater potential, like the Surrey composite I’m working on now, have always come from us, not her. And to reach a point where she can manipulate timelines, she’ll definitely need a whole new architecture, one I haven’t yet imagined. There’s no way she could get there from her current configuration.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Diesel changed subjects, asking Fifty-Eight, “What’s going on with the security door in your timeline? Is the installation complete?”
“They’re halfway done. The installers and their dust clouds piss me off.”
“Any idea what she’s up to?”
“The security door blocks a hallway between the workshop and the rest of the house. That means she can close the door to trap us with her in the workshop, or to keep us away from the workshop, or to split us up. Or she can decide not to use it at all.”
“Could you defeat it without her knowing?” asked Diesel.
Rose, who spent much more time in the workshop than her father, took an interest in his thought process. “You mean so if she tries to activate it, nothing happens?”
“Sure. Or maybe put a hidden door in a back room so you can get around the blockade. Or add an override switch that lets you supersede her control.”
“I have two months, give or take,” said Fifty-Eight. “I should be able to figure something out.”
Rose let a quiet gasp escape when Fifty-Eight acknowledged his time frame. The Diesel birthdays were in six weeks, and on that day, Fifty-Eight would become Fifty-Nine. The Big Meeting was three weeks after that, and for the past two years, Fifty-Nine had attended the party, returned home, and then his T-disc had gone offline.
And if they didn’t solve the problem this year, Rose’s dad would
be in the crosshairs next year.
“Whatever you do, do it with care,” said Diesel. “If Ciopova is somehow involved, we don’t want her passing warnings down the line.”
“Does your Rose have the Surrey pool working yet?” Rose asked Fifty-Eight.
“She’s really close, but it will be a race to get it up and running before the Big Meeting.” Fifty-Eight stood. “I’m going to get back and help her. Hope to see you at the party.”
They said their goodbyes and watched as Fifty-Eight made his way back to the house. When he was out of earshot, Diesel said, “My sense is that we’re too late for him. But I’m counting on you two to stop the cycle.”
“Fortunately,” said Rose, “we don’t need to understand how something works in order to break it.”
33. Thirty years old
Diesel milled about in the backyard of Fifty-Five’s house. Inside, the Big Meeting grew in size and volume as more and more brothers arrived. They’d all celebrated birthdays three weeks earlier; Diesel had turned thirty.
He stood between Twenty-Nine and Thirty-One, his closest confidants in the brotherhood. Thirty-One had been Diesel’s mentor when he first entered the time loop. Diesel, in turn, had mentored Twenty-Nine in the same fashion, creating another close bond.
Across from them stood Fifty-Eight and Fifty-Nine, the oldest of the brothers, and the ones Diesel had spoken with about defeating the security door. Fifty-Eight was the guy up next if Fifty-Nine didn’t solve the problem.
“I was able to prep a hole in a storage closet down the hall from Rose’s workshop,” said Fifty-Nine. “I haven’t broken completely through, but if I do, it will create a passage into the closet in my office. It’s not fast or convenient, but it’s hidden from Ciopova. So if the security door is the key, we have a way around it.”
He looked at Fifty-Eight. “I won’t deny that I’m having doubts about the concept that we don’t die. Part of me says to not go back, to stay here and take my chances. But I could never leave Rose to face whatever happens next on her own.”
Fifty-Eight put a hand on Fifty-Nine’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Does Rose have the Surrey composite upgrade working?” asked Diesel.
“Almost. She’s really close.”
“Damn. I was hoping that was something else we could bump.”
“If I’m still alive next week,” said Fifty-Nine, sounding more tired than sad, “maybe it will be.”
As the Big Meeting wound down, the brothers departed in ones and twos. The stragglers escorted Fifty-Nine to the T-disc room, and as they made their way, Diesel said, “Try something different when you first arrive. Jump, yell, punch your fist—just something unexpected. Maybe whatever happens will change.”
“I’ll dive to the right, away from the door leading into the room.” He turned to make sure Fifty-Eight heard him. “If it doesn’t work, try something different.”
A dozen brothers crowded around the T-disc, calling “good luck” and “you got this” when Fifty-Nine left for his timeline. As soon as he was gone, Forty stepped into the circle on the floor and commanded the T-disc to arrange travel to Fifty-Nine’s timeline.
The T-disc connected and displayed a “55,” an arrow, and the number “59,” all in green text signaling a secure connection. Then the display flashed, and below the arrow it now showed “Delay for :30.”
“That’s all right,” said Forty as time counted down. “He dove for the floor and his foot is probably blocking the disc. It will clear up.”
They all watched the countdown for several seconds, then Forty called, “Refresh.” The display blinked and showed a countdown with twenty-two seconds remaining.
Forty looked around the room, then turned back to the T-disc. “Refresh.”
The display flashed the same “55” and an arrow, but now they were shown in red. The space where the “59” had been now showed an “X,” also in red.
They’d lost the connection.
“Refresh,” called Forty. He and a few other brothers called for three more hours before accepting the loss as real.
* * *
The next morning, Lilah lay in bed next to Diesel and listened as he recounted the happenings at the Big Meeting, finishing with the loss of Fifty-Nine.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, rubbing his arm when he finished. Climbing out from under the covers, she stood and shook her head in frustration. “We’re five years into this, and the shift in focus to the end of the loop makes it feel like we’re just getting started.”
“To make it worse,” said Diesel, climbing out the other side. “Now we’re dealing with old farts who have a bad attitude, and don’t have anyone older to hold their feet to the fire.”
“At least Rose is helping.”
Diesel walked into the bathroom and talked through the open door. “Thank God for that. Without her taking charge, I don’t know what we’d do.”
Lilah hung her nightgown in the bedroom closet. As she stepped into her jeans, Diesel poked his head out. “It will be horrible next year watching Fifty-Nine activate the T-disc, knowing he’s going to his death.”
“Do you think he’ll do it?”
“He has to. He can’t leave Rose there alone.” Diesel pulled back into the bathroom. “This whole thing is psychological torture.”
“I’ve felt that way for years.”
She went across the hall to get Rose started on her morning routine while Diesel went downstairs to work on breakfast. When Lilah had the girl dressed, they descended together. The delicious aromas of cooking caught her nose, and she inhaled to savor it.
“I need to visit Fifty-Eight’s Rose,” said Diesel from the kitchen. “I want to make sure we have a smooth transition of facts and strategy to Fifty-Seven’s timeline.”
“No visits to the end of the line. We agreed. Hell, it was your rule.” Her gut roiled as she considered the risk.
He came to the table with a cup of coffee for her and a muffin for Rose. Lilah broke the muffin apart and helped the girl butter it.
“I’ve gotten to know her,” he said, pausing to stroke Rose’s hair. “I have to say goodbye.”
An idea flashed in Lilah’s head. “Bring me pictures.” She said it on impulse and loved the idea. Turning in her seat, she caught his eye. “I’ve been so jealous of what you see. Let me at least have some pictures.”
Diesel laughed. “It’s a great idea.”
She hurried him after that. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d return, and the sooner she’d get to see her beautiful daughter as a mature adult.
* * *
Diesel stood with Rose near the fire feature in Fifty-Eight’s backyard. Inside, her father worked on filling a scroll with pictures for Diesel to carry home.
“Has Ciopova’s behavior changed?” he asked. “We need to be aware of anything Fifty-Nine might have done to cause her to raise her guard.”
Rose shook her head. “I haven’t seen a difference.”
“I know the Fifties think a natural process is causing the time loop to shrink,” Diesel continued. “But if that were true, wouldn’t it get smaller by the same amount every year? The changes have been random. Sometimes the loop shortens a little bit. Other times a lot. And it’s held constant now for a few years in a row. That randomness is hard to explain.”
Rose gave a quick shrug. “Summer comes earlier and later in different years, and that’s a natural process.”
“Fair enough.” Diesel nodded.
“Here you go,” they heard from behind.
Diesel turned to see Fifty-Eight walking toward them, a tiny scroll in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.
“This has five hundred pictures,” he said as Diesel took the scroll and examined the protective cover. “There are some of Rose at every age.”
Diesel swallowed the capsule with a mouthful of water, and then emptied the glass. “Lilah will be so happy.” He paused for a moment, then changed topics. “I suppose shutting down Ciopova isn
’t an option.”
Rose shook her head. “If there were an off switch, she’d have disabled it long ago.”
“Then we need to bump the hell out of everything we can think of. Make it all different in the last months and break the cycle.”
“Should it be open rebellion or surreptitious maneuvering?” asked Fifty-Eight.
“I don’t follow.”
“We can go on strike right now and tell her we’re done. Or we can continue as secret spy agents and pretend everything is normal while we undermine our own work.”
Diesel looked at Rose. “What do you think?”
“Secret agents. With rebellion, your best move is right at the start when you go on strike. If it doesn’t work, then what? As secret agents, we can adjust our actions over time as we learn more.” Rose toed the ground. “I’m backstabbing my best friend.”
“Honey.”
Diesel knew to translate that single word as, We’ve been through this before and aren’t going through it again.
“She’ll forgive you if it turns out she’s innocent,” said Diesel, not at all sure if it was true but anxious to close the deal.
“Maybe.” They waited as she came to a conclusion. “If there’s anything to this, continued secrecy will give us the best shot at finding out.”
“What bumps will you focus on?” asked Diesel.
“Not sure.” She looked at her father. “Give us some time to brainstorm. Can you come back in two weeks? We’ll have lunch and finalize a plan together.”
“I promised not to visit here anymore. My girls are afraid of losing me.” He saw disappointment in her eyes.
Fifty-Eight did his best to rescue the situation. “I’ll coordinate through Fifty-Seven and his Rose. You can help us from there.”
Bump Time Origin Page 25