Sliptime

by Jeffrey Grode

  “Go for it,” Patrick said. “I’m clear.”

  Simmons ripped open Caliban’s shirt, electrified the paddles, and sent a current arcing through the laboratory director’s body. After several failed attempts Simmons hung his head. “I believe there’s been too much blood loss.”

  “Don, go find security. We need some backup.” Patrick motioned his head toward the exit. “And see if we still have that demo pulse rifle in the building. We’ll need it.”

  “Okay, but come with me. You won’t be able to stop Zander by yourself.”

  A smile inched up Patrick’s lips. “Go. Amo and I might be able to slow him down.”

  Simmons nodded and hurried out of the lab.

  Patrick’s earpiece chirped. “Commander, Zander is still here. He’s arming himself in a weapon storage room at the far end of the lab. Shall I engage?”

  “Yes.” Patrick stood and scanned the lab for a weapon, but saw nothing lethal until his eyes fell upon the defibrillator. “I’m on my way.” As the lights continued to flicker, Patrick jogged past the deactivated bots and came to a sudden halt near the storage room.

  Amo’s body phased back into view and faced his green-eyed opponent in the storage room. Four feet away, the newly resurrected robot held his laser tube at the ready.

  Amo’s right arm came up to prevent Patrick from entering the storage room. “Stand down, soldier,” Amo said to the armed robot. “We mean you no harm.”

  “What is this terrible place, Brother?” the once-Zander asked. “It reeks of machine oil and death.”

  “Do you know who you are?” asked Amo.

  “I am Tiwah, warrior class. Why has my body been reconfigured with a way-gate transceiver?”

  Vsshhhh-click. “I am Amorphous. Your body belongs to Zander, Kommunikation Direktive. You’re wearing the wrong microprocessor. Put down your weapon and we will help you.”

  Kwww-click. “Stand aside, Amorphous. I will kill this human and open a way-gate to Erde,” Tiwah said. “We must rescue and repair our fallen kom-bots.”

  “Now, Amo,” Patrick said in a low voice. “Destroy him with your laser.”

  Amo took a step closer to the green-eyed robot. “Tiwah. I command you to put down the weapon.”

  “You are not my commander.” Tiwah raised the laser tube at Amo. “You are defective.”

  Chrissakes. Patrick raised the defibrillator paddles in one hand, pressed the shock button, and dove at Tiwah. The charged paddles struck the green-eyed robot’s torso and sent a shock wave coruscating through its metal body. Tiwah’s legs buckled, but not before his laser sliced Patrick in half across the hips. The laser fire not only cut, but cauterized Patrick’s devastating wound.

  Patrick’s blood still surged through his heart, but the shock and the pain were excruciating. He lay face up on the floor and saw a robot with blue eyes kneel beside him.

  “Commander, we must leave immediately,” Amo said.

  Something clanked on his right. Tiwah rose on shaky legs, took three steps forward into the lab, and opened a portal to a dark and dusty world. Five Erdian soldiers surged back through the portal and into the lab. Erde found access to Earth for the first time since the OHW.

  Patrick grabbed Amo’s metal arm. “We must stop them before—”

  Vsshhhh-click. “It is too late to stop them, but I can save my commander.” Amo squeezed his arm. “Stay with me now. We travel.”

  A warm summer wind blew as Patrick worked in Betty’s garden. The weeds flourished, but they were no match for his persistence. He worked his way around the pepper plants and pulled a large leafy weed—careful to extract the root intact. He tossed the weed into a nearby bushel basket and wiped his brow.

  Patrick ran his tongue around dry lips. How long had he been out here? He wished Betty would bring him a nice cold glass of her homemade lemonade, but he hadn’t seen her since . . . breakfast? Probably busy makin’ me lunch by now. He sniffed the air as if to catch a whiff of her cooking, but smelled an odd chemical odor instead.

  Best get to the house and clean up. Ooh. A cramp worked up his leg from his calf to his hip. He tried to stand but couldn’t. Something is wrong with me legs.

  “Commander, wake if you can,” Amo said.

  Patrick’s eyes opened. The strong light made him blink several times until they adjusted. He lay on a work table and saw white walls, white boards scrawled with diagrams and theoretical algorithms, and a green robot with blue eyes. I’m home. The right side of his face felt numb as if he’d suffered a stroke. His tongue felt useless.

  “Sir.” We have you in a stasis field until we can find the—”

  Patrick blinked once, twice, and darkness took him.

  Chapter 23

  The Terran winter felt colder than he remembered. After spending the last year on a dry and dusty world, he was lucky to be back. His clothing, though dirty and worn, had been functional for the mines, but wouldn’t keep him warm on this world. As the frigid wind blasted his body, even the snarling tiger tattoo on his forearm shivered. At least his battered sun hat kept his head warm.

  Tiger, as he’d been nicknamed first in the mine, and later in fighting pits of Erde, learned how to stay positive, despite how hatred’s ploy had exiled him. The powers of the dusty brown world had beaten him down, but pain had molded his strength and courage.

  Hope, perseverance, and science had helped him find his way back to Terra—though this planet had never been his home, but it might be. In the end, luck, longing, and love had saved him—or so he hoped. Yes, today is about hope . . . and a girl.

  Through the heavy snowstorm, he recognized Jack’s home across the street. Jagged icicles hung from the roof and gutter. Inside the house, warm friends and a hateful enemy gathered to celebrate Patsy’s birthday. Checking his chronometer, he breathed a sigh of relief. 8:30. Good. I’m a little early. Tiger had a very short window to speak with Ben. His chest tightened. I hope they listen to reason.

  Inside Jack’s house, Albert’s jaw tightened. “Just remember to give this bronze medallion directly to your grandfather.” Albert turned and left the room without a goodbye.

  Ben looked at the t-medallion and put it in his pocket. “Did I piss off your grandfather?”

  “Pop-Pop?” Jack shrugged. “Nah. He hasn’t been the same since our CSD shot him and your FBI kept him prisoner on Earth, and now he’s helping Grandma Betsy recover from her implant surgery.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Hmmm.” Jack shrugged. “Sometimes she’s forgetful and a little ditzy.”

  “Really? She seemed fine when I saw her last summer.” Grandma Betsy had been very kind to him. She had helped convince him not to blame himself for his brother’s death.

  Jack nodded. “We’re hoping it’s just temporary.”

  “Me too.”

  Jack’s eyebrows knit together. “I’m going to check on her. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Jack stood and left the room without closing the door.

  The digital clock near Jack’s bed read 8:40. Ben fished the t-medallion out of his pocket. As he turned it over, he saw tiny scratches on the round casing.

  Basshhh. Something hit the outside of Jack’s bedroom window. The glass dripped with splattered ice and snow.

  Ben put the medallion back into his pocket and looked out the window. Through the snow-spattered pane, a man with a scraggly beard and an odd hat stood in the snow. The man motioned for Ben to open the window. Probably one of Jack’s friends.

  Ben unlocked the window and pushed at the wooden frame, but no matter how hard he pushed, the window wouldn’t open. Between the blowing snow and the condensation, he couldn’t quite make out the man’s face. Ben wiped the fog from the inside windowpane, peered back outside, and motioned towards the front of the house. The man nodded.

  As quickly and silently as he could, Ben hurried from Jack’s room and down the hall toward the steps. Despite his curiosity, his gut warned him the visitor brought trouble. Careful not to clomp down the
wooden stairs, he made his way to the front door.

  Alone in the foyer, Ben peered through the gauzy window curtain and saw the outline of the tall man waiting on the front porch. When Ben opened the door, toenails clacked on the foyer tiles behind him. He turned to stop Jack’s dog from bolting through the door.

  “Don’t worry,” the visitor said. “Ginger won’t bite me.”

  Ben turned toward the stranger and was dumbstruck. Beneath the scraggly beard, worn clothes, and the odd hat, he might have been looking into a mirror.

  “It’s okay, Ben,” the man said through shivering teeth. “I’m a friend and my feet are freezing out here. Let’s go up to Jack’s room so we can talk.”

  Ben took a step back, let the man inside, and closed the door. “Who—”

  “Do we have company?” Patsy called from the living room.

  “Just a friend,” Ben replied. “We’ll be upstairs.”

  The visitor raced up the steps on leather clogs. Ben followed and caught up with him as they both entered Jack’s room.

  Jack sat on his bed. “There you are. I brought Pop-Pop and Grandma by to see you, but you were gone—” Jack gaped at the stranger.

  “Hi, Jack. Good to see you again.” The visitor closed the door and removed his hat and coat.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Jack said as he stood.

  “You can call me ‘Tiger,’ but if you really want to know,” Tiger pointed toward Ben, “I’m him.”

  “What do you mean?” Ben’s gut churned, but his eyes fixated on the jagged scar just beneath Tiger’s beard. “Are you my doppelganger from another world?”

  “No, not a double, Ben. I’m you, just a little older.”

  Ben looked at Tiger up and down and folded his arms. “You’re a good bit taller than me.”

  “Growth spurt over the last year—about six inches.”

  Jack nodded. “Ben, he does look like you.”

  “Guys—Shit and double shit. Please, listen!” Tiger groaned. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

  Jack smirked. “Balls up. He sounds like you too.”

  “Okay, Tiger.” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

  “One year ago today, in my timeline, Albert gave me a bronze time medallion and asked if I would return it to GranPat,” Tiger said.

  Ben eyes widened when he heard Tiger mention GranPat. He pulled the t-medallion from his shirt pocket. “One like this?”

  “One and the same. Albert told you not to fool with it. Right?”

  “I didn’t.” Ben narrowed his eyes. “Not yet anyway.”

  “Ahh. But I did,” Tiger said. “I thought I was clever enough to fix it myself, but it turned out Albert had rigged the medallion. It sent me back one year in time . . . to Erde. I worked my ass off to stay alive and come back to warn you—so you wouldn’t make the same mistake as me.”

  “This sounds like a heap of cowshit to me.” Jack said, and flopped back down on his bed. “Lock the door, Ben. I gotta hear this whopper.”

  Tiger frowned. “I need to talk with Ben. Alone.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow at Ben.

  “Jack stays,” Ben said. Both Ben and Tiger remained standing.

  “Alright then,” Tiger said. “I’ve spent enough time working in Erdian mines to realize Albert had wanted GranPat to trigger the medallion’s time-trap instead of me. I’m not sure how to deal with that, but we need to warn GranPat that he’s got an enemy.”

  “Hold up,” Jack said. “My grandfather wouldn’t do that to Patrick. They are friends, unless . . .”

  “Jack, remember, I told you that Patrick and Albert had a dust-up,” Tiger said. “Albert fell and accidently cut his hand with a razor. I cleaned up the blood in the lab.”

  “I . . . we, told you, Jack,” Ben said, his eyes moving from Jack to Tiger, “and I saw the bandage on Albert’s hand today that proves it.”

  “I saw it too.” Jack hung his head. “Ok. I believe you both. I didn’t know Pop-Pop could be so cold, but maybe he had a good reason.”

  “Maybe.” Ben looked at Tiger for a moment. But I’m not going there. “Tiger, thanks for saving me from the trap, but how did you return to Terra?”

  “Remember, Ben-Gen, our cyborg doppelganger on Erde?” Tiger asked. “I found him and met his family. Ben-Gen’s grandfather defused and reconfigured the bronze t-medallion and combined it with a chronometer he’d invented. Took him almost a year to repair the medallion, but I was still locked out until today—when someone opened a beacon from Earth. I slid from Erde, to Earth, and then to your signature on Terra.”

  “Wait a minute.” Ben said to his taller-self. “If you are who you say you are, and your warning stops me from being trapped on Erde, wouldn’t that erase you and your timeline? You would cease to exist.”

  Tiger smiled. “Hey. So far I’m still here. Maybe you decide to go to Erde even after being warned.”

  “Why would I?” Is this guy for real?

  “Hmmm. Maybe you want to work in the mines.” Tiger flexed his muscles, which were larger than Ben’s. “Maybe you want to fight in the pits for extra money. I’ve learned wrestling moves you’ve never seen before. I could crush LaGreca in a rematch!”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “You know about LaGreca?”

  Tiger smiled. “I’m you. Remember?”

  Ben frowned. “Do you call yourself ‘Tiger’ because of the tattoo?”

  “I earned the name and my wounds fighting bullies in the mine and monsters in the Pit.” Tiger removed his shirt and showed them the wicked scars on his chest and back.

  “Cowshit.” Jack said. “Those aren’t all from fighting.”

  Tiger held his head high. “Some from the lash, but most are from knife duels and wild animals. Fighting against cyber-wolves nearly killed me, but those matches earned me the most money.”

  “I’m impressed, but given the choice . . .” Ben crossed his arms. “I think I’ll skip the trip.”

  Tiger donned his shirt. “Erde wasn’t all bad. I spent a lot of time with Alora and her children while Ben-Gen recovered from his laser wounds. She’s a wonderful woman. You might like to meet her.”

  Ben’s eyes flared. “You . . . didn’t.”

  “Of course not. I’m you, remember?” Tiger chuckled. “I spent the last year thinking about the one girl I really love. Memories of her helped me survive the pain and agony of living on a dying planet.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “Who? Lori?”

  Jack narrowed his eyes at Ben.

  “Hah,” Tiger scoffed. “Funny you would have to ask, Ben. I fell in love with Ruth here on Terra. She was the one girl who loved me no matter what. I’ll never forget her soft, soft lips when we kissed last summer, or her apricot perfume, or how kind and gracious she’d been to me—to you Ben, when you visited her this week. Do you remember? I do. That was me too.”

  Ben nodded, and snuck a peek toward Jack, who seemed intrigued. “I remember, but . . . maybe not the same as you do,” Ben admitted. “You’ve had a lot of time too think about her.”

  “I’ve thought about her every day and night I spent on Erde. Just the thought of Ruth’s love gave me hope and strength to stay alive so I could keep my word—I had promised her I would come back.”

  Ben nodded. I promised Ruth the same.

  Tiger continued. “Helping Ben-Gen and Alora with their kids on Erde, gave me an appreciation for family. Believe or not, I’m good with kids. And now, I’ve returned, here, to live with Ruth and our future baby if she’ll still have me.”

  “Hold on,” Jack said as he rose to his feet. “What do you expect Ben to do? Sacrifice the next year of his life on Erde so you can take his girlfriend on Terra? You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  Ben didn’t know what to say. Would he sacrifice himself to preserve the timeline and become Tiger? Did he really want to commit the rest of his life to Ruth? He knew one thing for certain; he didn’t want to spend a year on Erde. Ben’s eyes
roamed past Tiger and Jack and rested on the door. His shoulders sagged. There must be a better way.

  “Jack, you’re right.” Tiger tensed and his tattoo writhed. “I wouldn’t wish my experience on anyone, but I have an idea.”

  “I’m listening,” Ben said.

  “Good.” Tiger sounded sure of himself. “What if we can create two timelines going forward? I remain here and now on Terra, and spend a lifetime with Ruth and our new family. Ben, you go back to Earth and live your life as you see fit, but never return. Terra will be off-limits. I don’t want to confuse Ruth, or risk losing her. ”

  “But I like visiting Terra . . .” Ben sought Jack’s eyes. “What do you think?”

  Jack shrugged. “I can’t help you, Bro. You’re negotiating with your older and more experienced self. Just think about what he has to say, and do the right thing. Besides, I could still visit you on Earth.”

  Ben grimaced. “Hey. Why should I step aside?” His shoulders straightened as he faced Tiger. “I’m not so sure I like the idea of you with Ruth.” I’m the one responsible for her and the baby, right?

  Tiger laughed. “But I am you, and I choose Ruth. She is my future.”

  Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Sounds like he really loves her.”

  Ben took a step forward and poked Tiger in the chest “You’re more like a poser. Maybe you should go back to Erde.”

  Tiger grabbed four of Ben’s fingers, rotated his hand, and forced Ben to his knees. “Been there, done that. But if you don’t believe me, I’ll take you there for a visit.”

  “Ease up, Tiger,” Jack took a step toward them. “This is a big decision for both of you. Give Ben some time to think about it.”

  Tiger let go and stepped back, but his eyes stayed wary.

  Ben stood slowly and stretched his sore fingers. “Okay. Maybe I should agree to your proposal, but I’m not a total dick. Let’s say you really are me, only older. What if you’re wrong? What if I dodge Albert’s trap, crash the timeline, and you cease to exist!”

  Tiger nodded. “We don’t know for sure, but I’m willing to take the chance. For you, Ruth, and the baby. C’mon, trust me, and you’ll be trusting yourself.”