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L’Enfant Terrible
By Jason Michael Hiaeshutter
Morning comes sooner than I’d have preferred. I stumble through my morning routine and head to the lab. All the usual artifacts are scattered along the research tables. Mostly, these artifacts consist of Maya junk typical in this area. Sometimes I wonder why the college still funds our research here. Every day it looks more and more like this part of
Scanning my work area, I see some newly discovered parchment on my table. Dr. Sashara must have left it here for me to look over. I can see that the text is written in proto-Maya. There is also a receipt here from the carbon dating lab. What? That can’t be right. 50 years old? That’s it? Hardly seems worth the time. But, it is in proto-Maya. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to translate a bit of it.
~What I am about to tell you will be a great strain on my ability to explain. Not for any lack of mastery of your language for my fluency of all your native tongues is complete. It is more so that the sounds and voice patterns of my language can not be formed by any Terran alphabet, and some of my words are untranslatable in any other form of communication. Who I am you will not be able to fathom but before I begin my telling I point out that I am no god. It does not serve my purpose to claim a form of divinity toward people of this Terran world, though many of my people have before~
An incredible discovery if I’d ever seen one. Unfortunately, it would go unrecognized by my colleagues. Many in my profession would scoff at the idea of an extraterrestrial discovery of this magnitude. True enough, the document is most likely a fake. The script is written in proto-Maya but only carbon dates to be approximately 50 years old or so. Nonetheless, I feel compelled to study more of the text.
I see Dr. Sashara coming around the corner. He will be sure to discredit the document when he sees my report. Maybe he will allow me to keep the parchments for my own personal benefit.
“Dr. Veilleux, how is your analysis?” my supervisor asks. I watch as he reviews the clipboard holding my report.
“I’m not sure what to make of this Dr. Sashara,” I answer.
“Terran alphabet? What the devil? Are you sure your translation is accurate, Jon?”
I nod my head eagerly. “I am positive, sir. Terran is spelled out in modern English. I couldn’t imagine anything else this could reference.”
“Obviously a fake I’d say. A reference to the word Terra, indeed. Probably some science fiction nut playing a prank. The age is dated somewhere around the late 1950’s? Even more proof that this text is bogus. Dispose of it at once. We’ve got plenty more parchment to analyze. No sense wasting precious time with obvious fiction. Some joker wanting to reinvent the Turin Shroud is not worth our efforts.”
This is the exact response I was expecting from Sashara. But he is right isn’t he? I mean the university hasn’t been funding us the past eleven years to discover convincing fiction. Archeologists are meant to discover history, not dreams of the future. If Dr. Sashara believes my head is in the stars, he’ll send me packing faster than I can say, beam me up, Scotty. Still, it’s good for a souvenir, right? If Sashara thinks it’s destroyed, no harm no foul. Looking around the lab, I see the good doctor left me alone. I place the documents in my briefcase and plan to finish translating after I get off duty. Even archeologists are allowed a hobby.
After my duty day, I return to my dorm and eagerly open my briefcase. As I stare at the aged papers I reflect on the genius of using proto-Maya for the text of the document. If these parchments are fake, use of proto-Maya would surly arouse enough curiosity to grab an archeologist’s attention. Not to mention the fact that 50 years is just old enough to age the papers in a way to make the validity of the discovery vague until tested. Fake or not, it surely peaked my curiosity.
~My people, the Watchers, have been among you since the beginning. We colonized you and taught you to build your first societies. It was no surprise the damage you’ve done to yourselves. Not that I am judging, for our actions resulted in our own destruction as well. This was the reason why we vanished after teaching you how to walk. We could no longer show ourselves for fear we would influence our past mistakes on to you. Future contact was ruled illegal by my people~
Colonized us? Pioneers from the stars? Amazing as it may sound, the notion would be dismissed instantly. The author would be written off as some L. Ron Hubbard wannabe. But what if? A first hand account? Like reading the early memoirs from the captain of the Mayflower. Honestly, is it truly so unbelievable that we could have been colonized by a distant world? Recent theories have surfaced claiming that ancient writings reference visitors from space. Hieroglyphics depict people with circles around their heads that could arguably be space helmets. So why not? Why should we discredit one theory over another. On the other hand, what of a 50 year old document telling the story of the colonization of Earth? Chronologically it makes no sense. I suppose these Watchers could be immortal. But why wait so long to make contact again, especially if it is against their rules to do so? Are they trying to warn us of something? Ah, too late to translate more tonight. I will continue tomorrow.
* * *
Morning comes sooner than I’d have preferred. Never the less, I stumble into the day room and start the coffee. By the time I finish my shower the pot is finished brewing. My friend, Dr. David Holt, is already sipping on a cup by the time I return to the day room. He smiles when he sees me.
“Morning Jon, sleep good?”
“Morning Dave,” I answer. “Good as expected with these god awful accommodations.”
I almost tell him about my restless night. How I tossed and turned, wondering about those old documents we’d found. Another opinion would be helpful. The opinion of an open, yet unbiased mind. Would Dave be that person? Or would he dismiss the idea as quickly as Sashara did? I guess an impartial question wouldn’t hurt.
“Dave,” I ask warily, “do you have any theories on the dawn of man?”
Dave chuckles his answer. “Whoa,” he says, “that is one heavy question for 0730. Generally I don’t discuss such things till my second cup.”
“I know, I know,” I agree. “It’s just…well…there’s this collection of parchment I’ve been analyzing. It suggests that we, as a species, were colonized by some other planet.”
Dave nods. “Oh yes,” he says. “I heard about that. The old man told you to discard it, right? So what? You see some validity in it or something?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I answer. “There is plenty of evidence to pronounce the documents fake. But, you know, I keep asking myself what if? You know, Dave? I mean, what if we’ve discovered some kind of proof. Documented proof that we are not alone in the universe.”
Dave sips his coffee, obviously pondering my question. “Well, I’ll just say this,” he says, “as archeologists our job is to find answers to our past. The long lost stories of our ancestors if you will. Did our ancestors come from the stars? Who knows?” He downs the rest of his cup and stands, looking up to the ceiling of the day room. “It’s a preposterous notion, though. Thinking that we are alone in this universe, as vast as space is. As a scientist, the law of averages almost forbids me from believing there is nothing else out there. Now, whether or not they populated the Earth for us? That my friend, we may never know.”
With that, Dave heads off to work. If I value my position here, I suppose I should follow him.
* * *
Central America in the middle of August. Never in my life have I felt a hot quite like this. The Guatemalan Government has given us permission to dig and completely deface certain points of interest for our research. Sometimes I can’t even remember what it is we’re looking for. We constantly come across artifacts we’d already seen the likes of time and time again. Nothing is ever new. New? Poor choice of words, I guess. In this line of work it’s the older the better. So the saying goes.
I watch over the dig crew, supervising and looking over artifacts. If I, or one of the other doctors, deem the artifact important enough, it is tagged and sorted for analyzing. Across the site, I see Dr. Eldrin. Sally, we call her off duty. Beautiful and curvy, she always has the ability to get the blood pumping, even in this ghastly heat. She seems to be looking over an artifact, maybe I’ll take a peek myself.
“Good morning, Dr. Eldrin,” I casually greet, “what you got there?”
Sally smiles at me. Warm and comforting, she always brightens my day. “Hello, Dr. Veilleux,” she says. “Nothing really. Typical Maya pottery with the usual artwork. Nothing notable.”
Looking over the pottery, I have to agree. Pretty as it is, we’ve got more than enough of it already and more would simply clutter the warehouse.
“Down day tomorrow,” Sally continues. “Some of us are planning on hitting the beer hooch tonight.” She smiles warmly. “You gonna be there?”
Her smile is intoxicating. I feel I should at least make an appearance. After all, those documents aren’t going anywhere.
“Well,” she says, still smiling at me, “I’ll watch for you. All work and no play can be bad for your health around here.”
I nod at her and return to my area. As I walk away I realize partying tonight seems less and less important. Besides, I’m entitled to my own past time. I decide to decline the invitation out and return to my little alien friend.
* * *
~Terraforming planets of this solar system had been accomplished many times. As far as I know, the fourth planet had been Terraformed the most, three times in the last 40 thousand years. I come from the generation of the second Terraformation of the fifth planet. Not the body you would call Jupitor. A fifth planet completely wiped off the canvas of the night sky, destroyed by our own hands. The ultimate mistake. It’s human nature, really, to destroy ourselves. Yes, we are human, just as you are and therefore prone to the same human ignorance. When we realized our end was near, a group of us hastily set out to the third planet. It was a desperate decision really. The fourth was not ready for a Terraform because of how badly its atmosphere was destroyed with its last colonization. But at least with planet four, the astral body stayed in tact. Not like what we did to the fifth. Reduced to nothing but a field of rock and dust. The third planet, you call Earth or Terra, we had a different name for it then, was a last minute choice. Many believed it to be too close to the sun for a proper Terraform, but luckily the procedure took~
A destroyed fifth planet? Well, it’s not the first time the idea was presented. There have even been hypothetic scenarios involving civilizations similar to our own. Phaeton I think was the name. Although, if this is true I’m sure it was called something different by its locals.
According to the clock it’s 2330. I can hear the partying going on outside. So what? The night is still young. I don’t have to work tomorrow, and they are certainly not keeping me up. Maybe I’ll translate a little more and then join them.
~This part will be the most difficult to explain, but also the most important. I tried to leave a warning via the Maya civilization but I’m afraid the message will not be fully understood in time. You see, historically we have chronically been destined to destroy ourselves. Somehow, we cannot seem to learn from our mistakes. Each time we Terraform a planet, the duration of human life has lasted exactly 6023 years. Some civilizations had advanced more than others, but more advanced civilization simply led to more devastating ends. The ultimate demise of my own fifth planet is a perfect example of that. In your case, we tried to restart your civilization several times when we thought things we going off track. Unfortunately, these actions resulted in a distorted and uncertain age of Terra. It is against the rules for me to make this contact with you and my people will discover my insubordination soon. If I am caught there will be consequences but I have to risk it. For all intents and purposes we are the mothers and fathers of your race. As a parent, I cannot stand by and watch your destruction unfold so I must warn you. By the time humankind has populated planet three for 6023 years, the AD calendar will show 12…21…2012. Heed this warning Jean-Luc Veilleux, time is running out~
Wait what? Did I read that right? Yep, modern English. Unmistakable. Called me by name. My full name even. How is that possible? I wasn’t even born 50 years ago. I rub my eyes, thinking it’s possible I’m imagining things. I have been working a lot lately. I read it again. My name, plain as the nose on my face. Okay, I’m starting to get freaked out now. I can feel myself start to shake. This is scary. How is it possible?
A loud pounding sound startles me. It’s my door. Drunk colleagues no doubt. Should I answer? How can I not? I could sit in my room and pretend I don’t hear the knocking. Sure Jon, good idea. Show everyone you’re losing your mind. Okay, shake this off and go to the door. Open it.
“Hello?”
Nothing. Sounds of laughing, drinking friends. But nobody at my door. I did hear the door, right? Maybe I am losing it. I shut the door. There it is again. A loud knocking. I open the door violently.
“WHAT!”
Nothing again. What is going on? Maybe I need a drink. I leave the door open and go for my jacket.
“It’s not cold,” I hear a voice say. “You won’t need that.”
I spin around. Nobody in the doorway. “Who’s there?” I ask. If this is a prank I’m not the least bit amused.
“It’s just me, Jon.” The voice is behind me now. In the room with me. I turn quickly and see. Sally. Dr. Sally Eldrin. “I thought you might want some company.”
I rub my eyes again. If this is a hallucination, it’s starting to look good. With clear eyes, I see her. Yep, still standing there, in the flesh. Dressed in black stretch pants and a red tank top. Oh, god, I must be dreaming. Two years of heat and ancient dust has finally gone to my head. But hey, hallucination or not, I might as well go with it.
“Everyone’s out having a good time. Why are you cooped up in here?” She asks me.
I look directly into her green eyes. They sparkle hypnotically, locking me in to her gaze. A strange feeling of euphoria creeps over me. She crosses her arms around her mid section and slowly lifts her tank top over her head. Her body is perfect.
“Why don’t you shut that door,” she suggests. Somehow, I find the ability to look away long enough to do as she says. I reach for the door. I seem to be moving very slowly now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’m moving through water. I’m completely conscious of this feeling yet I don’t mind it a bit. I feel like the luckiest man alive. I shut the door and turn back to stare at Sally. She’s spread out on the couch now. Topless and beautiful. Her green eyes grab me again and I can’t look away. Then again, would I really want to? Those eyes seem to glow brighter and brighter as I stare. Somewhere in my subconscious I notice a high pitched tone in my ears, barely noticeable. Who cares? Probably a machine someone forgot to shut off earlier. A generator or something. I’ve got more important things to concentrate on right now. She gets brighter still as I get closer. Soon, her body is completely silhouetted by light. Still, I can’t look away. Is that sound getting louder too? So what? It’s nothing. I reach for Sally, moving through water again. Big deal, I’ll swim to her if I have to. I’m compelled to go to her. That beautiful light. Almost there.
“JON!”
A pulsing flash. A gun shot? Laser shot? My vision comes back to focus. Time begins to restore to normal speed. What’s happened? I’m being pulled away. What’s…
“Dave,” I say. It’s Dave yanking my arm. He’s running, dragging me along somewhere. He’s fast. Visions blur past me so fast I can’t make them out.
“Dave,” I say again. Am I shouting? Am I speaking calmly? I can’t tell. I feel so disoriented. “What’s going on?”
Finally we stop. I look around. I don’t recognize the surroundings. Some kind of cave maybe? No, the walls are too smooth. More like a room. I look closer and discover this room has no doors, no windows. Am I dreaming? What the hell is going on? I see Dave. He seems to be speaking but I can’t understand him. No, not speaking. He’s just making sounds. Trilling high pitched sounds with his tongue.
“Dave,” I manage to utter. “Dave, what the hell are you doing?”
Dave stops making his strange noises and looks at me. “I’m locking the Rifter,” he answers.
“The what?”
Dave turns back and begins his tongue trills again. He pauses a second to tell me he’ll explain when there is more time, then continues the noises.
Finally Dave finishes. His face seems to have a slight red tint emanating from his skin that fades quickly as he turns to me. Smiling he addresses me.
“Now,” he says, “what was your question?”
Is he mad? My question? I could ask a million questions and still not have an inkling of understanding as to what all happened in the last five minutes.
“Where are we?” I finally ask.
“This is a Rifter,” he answers matter of factly. He speaks as if this should all be common knowledge.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I say. “What is a Rifter?”
“It’s a time pocket,” he explains. “We’re suspended outside of time. I had to take you here before that Watcher drained you.”
“Drained me?”
“You finished translating the message. The Watchers feel they need to destroy you in order to preserve their laws.”
“Message? You mean the parchments I translated?”
“Yes,” he answers. “This is the only place I could take you where you’d be safe. We’re drifting in a time pocket. It will take a little time for the Watchers to locate us. We’re safe for the moment.”
Is he kidding? “Time pocket?” I utter. “Great, One minute I’m about to make it with a woman I’ve had a crush on for months, and the next I’m sitting on the floor of the damn TARDIS with a classic case of blue balls.”
Dave smiles. “I’ll gladly take your cynicism as gratitude.”
This has to be a dream. I’m so confused, I haven’t the foggiest idea how to ask all the questions swimming through my mind right now.
“Dave, who are you?” I finally ask. Good, I’ll start simple.
“Haven’t you figured it out, Jon? I’m a Watcher, just like Sally. Well not exactly like Sally. I mean, I don’t want to drain you.”
“Well that’s refreshing.”
“I know it’s a lot to swallow, Jon, but you gotta trust me. I’m a Watcher. In fact, I’m the Watcher. The one who wrote you that message.”
Dave nonchalantly goes back to his trills and pitches. I know I should ask more questions. Should disbelieve and write this off as a dream. What good would that do? It would just waste time and anyway, I think I already know the answers.
So Dave is the Watcher who wrote those documents. A message as he called it. A message directly to me, written about twenty years before I was even born. How? This time pocket thing probably. Time doesn’t matter to these Watchers. They can go to any point of time they choose.
“So how does this Rifter work?” I finally ask.
“You got over your skepticism quick,” he responds. “Well, as I said we are sitting in a time pocket. A sort of rift suspended out of time. I can land us at any point in Earth’s prior time line. Of course there are limitations.”
“Such as?” I ask, genuinely excited by all this.
“Well for example,” he says, “there is no such thing as future travel. If it hasn’t happened, we can’t go to it. In other words, no sneak peeks at the final chapter. Also, there is no such thing as parallel universes. If the time line changes, it changes. The altered timeline is instantly destroyed. However, sometimes the Rifter will pick up reminiscent coding, ghosts if you will, of destroyed timelines. But it is impossible to visit them. It would be like attempting to land a leer jet on a rain cloud. There is no substance to it.”
I nod. “Okay,” I say, “so you said you are the one who wrote that message. Why did you address it to me personally? What can I do? If we are going to destroy our own planet, how could I ever stop it?”
“Somebody has to try, Jon,” he answers. “I’ve studied you for years. I felt you to be the most open minded person I’d observed in ages. I didn’t want to spend a great deal of time convincing someone that this is all real. You struck me as someone who would embrace the opportunity.”
“You talk like you’re offering me a job or something.”
“Or something, yeah. In a matter of speaking. Look Jon, I have a plan but I can’t do it alone. I need your help.” Dave extends his hand to me. “What do you say?” he continues, “Ready to save the planet with me?”
The offering me a job crack was meant to be a joke. But looking into his eyes I can see he is serious.
“Of course you are not a captive,” he assures. “I can take you back to your dorm. You can wake up this past morning. The message will be destroyed just as Dr. Sashara ordered. You can live out your life writing this whole experience off as a dream. The other Watchers will leave you alone I assure you. With the message destroyed they will no longer see you as a threat. I’ll respect your decision but I need an answer now.”
No time to sleep on it? I guess I understand. But if the world truly is ending, how can I turn down the chance to save it. I nod at Dave confidently. “I’m in,” I answer.
Just as I grab the extended hand of my new partner, the Rifter begins to shake violently.
“What was that?” I ask urgently.
Dave’s face immediately turns serious. “The Watchers,” he says, “they’ve located us.”
The Rifter shakes again. I can’t stay on my feet because the movement knocks me off balance. “So what are we going to do now?” I ask, struggling to stabilize myself. I yell louder too since the shake is causing great echoes within the Rifter.
“Well,” Dave shouts, “when all logic fails, what should one do?”
I am shocked and a bit irritated by his lack of concern at our current state of affairs. I say nothing but shrug my shoulders impatiently. He turns to me with a strange smile and his face again begins that strange glow.
“Resort to a heuristic solution,” he says. The words echo loudly and his face becomes so bright I can no longer look at him. Finally the echoing is ear piercing and the glow engulfs the entire Rifter…then…
* * *
Once again I have the feeling like I am trying to move through water. I’m completely disoriented and feel as though I am floating. I can’t seem to see my hand in front of my face, yet I am not surrounded by blackness. It’s more of a pleasant blue color. My ears have a sort of residual, dull hum in them from the echoes of Dave’s words which appear to be the only sound. I can’t say how long I float in this vast emptiness, but eventually I feel another hand wrap around my own. I feel a rush of wind blast my body as if all time and space rush back into place. I feel my feet place against a solid surface and the blue emptiness lifts like a blanket to uncover the scenery hiding behind it. I look to my side and see Dave standing there, holding my hand and smiling warmly.
“Dave,” I finally utter. “Where are we now?” As I speak, my voice sounds strange. As it leaves my throat, it seems to have a kind of hollow feel about it. Almost as if I am speaking within a vacuum.
Dave looks around the landscape with an unmistakable look of nostalgia on his face. “This,” he nods. “This was my home. The fifth planet as it was on its final day.”
I stare in bewilderment. An entire planet long extinct. My eyes, the only of my kind to ever witness its fullness. Not much different than Earth really. The sky is a more purplish/green color. Buildings seem to be made of metal and completely smooth on all sides. Looks like they don’t have much diversity in architecture. Hovering machines zoom overhead which are obviously a main mode of transportation. All and all, I am a bit disappointed in the stereotypical futuristic appearance of this planet. Although, technically this isn’t the future I am looking at. It’s the past. Dave watches me close as I drink the scenery in deeply with my eyes.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” he asks. “I miss it so much.” He shifts his head back and forth, admiring his past. His memories. It’s obvious that he regards them well. “I had a family,” he says as he points across my left shoulder. I turn to look in the direction he’s pointing but obviously see nothing that would mean much to me. “They are there.”
“Do you want to go see them?” I ask caringly.
With this Dave laughs heartily. “Do you believe we are actually here?” he asks amusingly.
“Well…I…” I stutter.
“Jon, the Rifter is a powerful device,” he says, “but not that powerful. I can travel anywhere in your planet’s history, but not my own.” Dave’s smile slowly fades as he hangs his head. “I can never return here again. None of us can.”
After a brief silence, Dave explains that these are his memories. He is sharing them with me so I may get a better understanding of where his people come from and why they are among us. He tells me that I am currently in a state of sleep and my corporeal body is lying in my own cot in my dorm on this past morning. He says he had to make a last minute decision before the other Watchers breached the Rifter so he decided to put me back to the morning before I completely translated his message. Dave says the Watchers will wait for me to indicate that I know the entire message before coming after me again. In other words, we are safe…for now.
Dave shows me many areas of the fifth planet. I now understand what he means by some of his language being untranslatable to English. In Dave’s language, the name for Planet Five is a word I cannot spell out in letters, and truthfully, cannot even pronounce. Dave’s true name is difficult too. The closest I can come to spelling it out would be, Chrrrrtetet. This spelling is not entirely accurate, however, since the pronunciation involves a lot of raising and lowering the pitch while making the trill with your tongue.
I look around in awe of my ability to experience this phenomenon. Dave explains that it was a typical past time to share dreams as well as waking thoughts with one another in the days of Planet Five. Husbands and wives could share dreams as a means of growing closer together while inventers could share thoughts as a means of developing ideas.
I can’t help but notice that for a world on the brink of destruction, the place looks unbelievably peaceful. Normally one would imagine a great war with nuclear explosions and things of that nature to be going on all around. Dave explains that this was the greatest problem when the end came. The entire population of Planet Five was made up of scientists. Mechanics, pilots, parking attendants, any type of job you could imagine had been replaced by artificial intelligent means. Scientists were employed to keep these machines running properly and watch for any glitches in the system. No, there were no glitches; the scientists were successful in keeping all the stereotypical dangers involved in an economy run by machines out of the loop. Dave explains that these technologies did not create a job shortage either. It was just the opposite actually as there was a need for many scientists in many fields in order to keep the world operating smoothly. What caused the destruction was simple human nature. Armed Forces were abolished and all wars were fought by computer. At first, war seemed civilized. Destructions were actually scheduled, like the demolition of a building, and people of the community were evacuated for the duration of the attack. Scheduled attacks were ruled as the most humane way to settle differences and sometimes a faction would concede before the attack would commence, hence settling the conflict. Sometimes an area would welcome an attack because when it was over, it actually created revenue and improved the economy while the rebuilding took place. But eventually, things got personal. Small cities were getting attacked without authorization. Surprise attacks would be a good way to describe them. The worst idea ever was the thought that men should be able to posses the power to destroy an entire population with the push of a button. But that is what Planet Five came to. Some felt that scheduled attacks never got the point across and thus situations were never resolved. Other times, things would get personal. A man would sleep with another man’s wife and the betrayed husband would launch an attack. Of course there were laws against these acts and those responsible were labeled war criminals. At first, these rogue scientists firing the surprise attacks were being charged as criminals and gravely punished for their crimes. But it began happening more and more until eventually, there was a great divide of scientists. Sides were taken and a battle of destruction was waged. Law scientists set up a massive target grid locating the positions of the criminal element. Criminals did the same to the law. Both sides knew there would be a devastating repercussion to the planet yet neither even considered yielding their position. Dave explains that what we are looking at now is the final moments when calculations on both sides have just been completed. Any moment now we will witness the destruction of an entire planet for no better reason than the disgusting trait of human vanity.
While we wait for the destruction to come, Dave also explains, in greater detail, the history of the Watchers. He explains that for every Terraforming, there are Watchers assigned to help the new planet grow. Watchers exist for as long as their assigned planet exists. When that planet is about to die, they search for the next generation of Watchers to take their place in the next Terraforming. Dave says it is usually a welcoming feeling for a Watcher to come to his or her end, to end an eternity. To hand your responsibility over to the next group and lay down to rest forever. Dave says by this time in his past, he had already become a Watcher and would be on a very young Planet Three right now, harvesting it for human life. As I watch him explain these things to me, he seems to regard some of his memories with a touch of regret. It makes me wonder if he would still agree to be a Watcher if he could do it over again. I am just about to open my mouth to ask him when he tells me the end is beginning.
“Okay, Jon,” he says, “this is it.”
I look around and notice everything, the whole world, seems quieter. Almost as if the entire population knows what’s about to happen.
Finally, Dave counts down, “three, two, one.”
The explosion is brilliant. It’s a brightness like I have never seen before. Debris flies through the air in leaps and bounds, some of it comes directly toward me. I feel no concussion, no impact of any kind. Debris that does come my way passes through me as if I am nothing more than a shadow. I guess in this case that is exactly what I am, a shadow standing within the eminent destruction of an entire world. Surrounded by the souls of billions of men and women robbed of their own existence. I watch as the explosions do the work they are meant to do, sending objects into oblivion. Finally, the explosions stop. But before the dust has time to settle, the explosions seem to reverse themselves into a type of implosion. The debris that was flying past now seems to suck backwards. The entire planet seems to be sucking into a funnel and disappearing out of existence. The surface and sky rips apart and folds into itself. Finally, I watch as the whole world is engulfed and only a tiny sphere floats before me. Mere moments pass and finally, the sphere detonates, shooting rock and dust in gigantic chunks. And now here I stand, in the middle of the famous asteroid belt between the planets we refer to as Mars and Jupiter. Somehow, I can feel the ghosts of entire civilizations whispering all around me. It suddenly strikes me that these are the remains of our ancestors. I feel sad, remorseful that I now know the history of our own humanity. That what I just witnessed, albeit the most devastating case, was not the first time humankind obliterated itself, nor will it be the last. Now Dave, a refugee of this disaster, has enlisted me to help him ensure history does not repeat itself again. I hope I never let him down. As I turn to ask him what’s next, my question is automatically answered. Dave’s face begins his mysterious glow again and my surroundings begin to dissolve. A bright flash is the last thing I see.
* * *
Morning comes sooner than I’d have preferred. I lay in bed a few extra moments just staring at the ceiling of my dorm room. I get the feeling that I had just wakened from an incredibly elaborate dream. The kind you know you had yet you can’t quite remember. I woke with the details of this dream on the tip of my brain but the harder I try to remember it, the faster it slips away. Eventually, I make the decision that it isn’t all that important and I stumble lazily out of my cot.
When I stand, I feel a bit disoriented. It almost feels like today should be my down day, but the calendar display on my clock shows it is the last work day of my cycle. Oh well, I decide to head out to the day room and start the coffee. As I fill the coffee maker with water, I feel overcome by a nagging feeling of déjà vu. Ah, never mind. It’s not like my routine changes from day to day. I go through the same motions every morning. I change the filter and switch on the Proctor Silex. By the time I finish my shower the pot should be ready.
It’s a rather hot morning. I adjust the shower temperature to make it just cool enough to feel refreshing, yet not too cold to shock my system. As the water assists in waking my mind, I try to recall the events of last night. I find my memory to be extremely hazy concerning the details of my late evening. I know I was up late because I am feeling it now but it is not like me to pull an all nighter on a work night unless working on something important. It was research, right? I was up late doing research. Well, that doesn’t make sense, what research? I was translating some parchment we’d discovered yesterday, but I remember Dr. Sashara ordering me to discontinue studying that due to obvious signs of fraudulence. Yes, I remember that but…those parchments. I feel my skin crawl when I think of them. Like something in the translation spooked me or something. But what? I just can’t remember. I chuckle to myself. This Guatemalan heat. It can really get to you if you let it. I shake off the jitters and shut off the water.
After getting dressed I head back to the day room for my morning coffee, it should be ready by now. That creepy déjà vu feeling overcomes me again and I can imagine my friend Dave already starting on the pot I had made. It’s not a big deal, we all pitch in on coffee every week and I wouldn’t think of claiming the whole pot for myself. It’s common for another person to beat me to the first cup of the morning since I’m normally the one who makes it and leaves it to brew. I walk in to the day room. Sure enough, there is Dave, already sipping on a cup. He smiles when he sees me.
“Morning Jon, sleep good?”
“Morning Dave,” I answer. “Good as expected with these god awful accommodations.”
I almost ask him about last night. How I can’t seem to remember what I did after work or even going to bed. Maybe we stayed up and got hammered. Not very likely for me on a work night, but I have been overworked lately. Maybe the guys talked me into letting my hair down. Either way, another point of view would be helpful. Maybe knowing what he did last night would jog my own memory. But what do I say. Hey Dave, did you see me last night? I can’t seem to remember anything. He’d think I’m crazy. Maybe an impartial question wouldn’t hurt.
“So Dave, what did you do last night?”
Dave answers quickly, as if he was planning on saying it whether I asked or not. “Me? Oh, just compiled some theories on the dawn of man.”
What? What a strange answer. Dawn of man? But as I think the words myself, they seem to echo in my head. Dawn of man. Did he and I have a conversation about this before?
“What’s wrong, Jon?” he asks. “You look a little pale.”
Slowly, I sit down. “Yeah,” I respond. “I do feel a bit dizzy.”
“Maybe you should go see the site physician,” he suggests. “That would be the logical thing to do.”
My head is pounding. The room seems to be spinning around me. What is going on? “I’ll be fine,” I answer. “I just need to sit for a minute.”
“Okay,” Dave nods. “Well, if you won’t see the doc, I can at least get you some water. That would be the heuristic solution to your problem.”
What? Heuristic? And suddenly I feel like I am hit with a sack of bricks. I fall out of the chair and land on my hands and knees. Memories flood through me like a hurricane. I hold still for the duration of this mind bombardment until the end when I am forced onto my back. I see Dave standing over me with what appears to be a tissue or something. He bends down to help me up.
“Here,” he says. “Use this. When you stand your nose will bleed for a couple minutes. Time distortion isn’t pretty when you’re not used to it.”
I stand. Sure enough, my nose starts leaking blood like a sieve. On a good note, the dizziness in my head is gone.
“The bleeding will stop in a few minutes,” Dave assures me. “But we aren’t safe here anymore. We have to move quickly.”
Dave grabs my hand and I again feel the winds passing over me as we travel at impossible speeds. When we finally stop, I notice we have returned to the Rifter.
“Where to?” I ask. “What’s your plan?”
Dave doesn’t answer. I feel compelled to guess our destination. This Rifter is virtually a time machine and I can’t even begin to fathom the millions of possibilities. We can avert every catastrophic disaster since the beginning of time. We’ll save millions.
As if reading my mind, Dave speaks. “We’re not going to drastically change history, Jon. It doesn’t work, trust me.”
“Oh yeah,” I agree, “the butterfly effect, right? We’d spin ourselves into messes far worse than the ones we fixed.”
It makes sense really. Say we go back and kill Hitler before he takes power. What flood gate would that open? What new form of history would fill in that hole? Who’s to say we wouldn’t make matters worse. Seemingly, a major crisis would be averted, right? But what if stopping horrible events alters another necessary step in our survival? What if everything that has happened since that day never happens now? The Korean War? Desert Storm? Did good come from those military actions? Maybe the attack on
“So what is the plan?” I ask.
His answer is puzzling. “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; and do not harm the oil and the wine.”
What? What is he saying? I don’t understand? Dave notices my look of confusion and smiles.
“It’s a passage from the book of Revelations, 6 and 6,” he explains. “It is a reference to great famine across the Earth.”
Famine, what famine?
“Economies are failing every day,” Dave continues. “No jobs. No money. The
I hear excitement elevate in Dave’s voice. I start to ask about his plan but he continues speaking.
“My people devastated our beautiful world. We blew ourselves up because of our own vanity. But the one thing we did get right was our economy. We never consumed resources without the knowledge that the resources would need replacing. In fact, replenishment was one of the first things we invented. But you,” Dave seems angry now. “You and your frivolous squandering of what this world gave you.”
Sitting in the Rifter, I can feel G forces holding me down, as if picking up intense speed, if such a thing is possible in a time pocket. “Dave,” I ask. “Are you okay?”
He continues as if he never hears my question. “We showed you,” he continues. “When we started this world. We showed you how to care for your resources. Showed you the importance of replenishment. But what happened? As generations passed, you got lazier. You turned a blind eye to the rapid depletions. We entrusted you with this beautiful world. You took and took until there was nothing left. The Watchers have long since abandoned you. It is now up to me to put this world back on track.”
Dave is obviously becoming agitated. I don’t really know what to say. “So…what do you need me to do?” I finally ask.
Dave stares at me a moment. The only sound is the ringing in my ear that I gather to be from the Rifter. When he speaks, his voice sounds deeper, sinister even. It sends a chill down my spine like I’d never felt before. “One third,” he finally answers.
One third? What does that mean? I can only imagine what he is referring to. He mentioned the book of Revelations. The book mentions God ordering this famine on the world. He also orders one third of the Earth’s population to be wiped out of existence. Is that Dave’s great plan? Wiping out one third of the Earth? Mass genocide of the human race? Has eternity on this planet made him mad?
The ringing in my ear gets louder and I feel the G forces tighten more around my body. Soon, I can no longer remain erect and I am forced flat on my back. I am completely frozen in place. As I lay paralyzed, I wonder what my place in his plan could be. If he was going to wipe out one third of the Earth, what could he possibly need me for? Deciding I’m running out of time to leisurely ponder the answer, I ask him outright.
“I’ve known you for years, Jean-Luc,” he explains. “I’ve put you through a time loop several times to ensure you were the perfect candidate for my plan. I deemed you one of the worthy who would help me rebuild.”
“But what about the other Watchers?” I ask. “They will never allow this.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” he answers. “I need your help with them too.”
My help? What can I possibly do to fight off the Watchers? He truly has gone mad.
“You will keep them off my tail,” he further explains. “I am bringing the Rifter to maximum speed. Soon the Rifter will split and you and I will separate. The Watchers will continue to chase you while I carry out our plan.”
Our plan? Is he kidding? What have I signed up for here? I thought I was going to help save the world, not bring on destruction. I can’t go through with this. Suddenly, I feel the Rifter stumble, as if we were on a cable car and one of the cables snapped. I fly forward and hit the wall of the time pocket. I am able to move to my knees now and I feel like I am going to be sick. Then the Rifter begins shaking violently again.
Dave looks around. “Oh, not again!” he shouts. “We were so close this time.” He looks at me with crazy red eyes. “Well, back again we go.”
No, not again. What if I don’t remember? How many times has he put me through this hell? Is this an endless cycle? If so I need to stop it…Now! But as I move, bright lights blind my eyes.
* * *
Morning comes sooner than I’d have preferred. As I sit up in my cot, I feel as though my head is about to split open. Hangover? I can’t remember drinking last night. In fact, I don’t remember anything about last night. I stumble to the medicine cabinet and grab a few aspirin. I decide to head out to the day room to start the coffee. Opening the door of my dorm room I discover the morning is blindingly bright today. No, it can’t be daylight, it seems like something else. Unnatural in a way. I hear a whispering echo in my head. Heuristic, the voice says. Heuristic? Why would that word be stuck in my…Ah! My face contorts like I was hit with an invisible fist and I fall to the floor. Memories flash flood into my head and soon I remember what’s going on. I need to get out of here. I turn to hide but soon realize it’s too late. I see her. Dr. Sally Eldrin, or whatever her real name is. She stands before me with a group of other men and women flanked on both sides of her. More Watchers I assume. She reaches for me and I pull back. I see blood drip onto my arm, my nose is bleeding again.
“It’s okay, Jon,” she encourages. “We’re here to help you.”
Somehow, her voice sooths me, I feel I can trust it. I let her take my arm and again feel the rush of wind blast around me. Knowing the drill, I soon find myself on yet another Rifter. If these Watchers are going to drain me (whatever that is), I hope they do it now. I’m too tired to play this game anymore.
“Don’t worry,” Sally says. “We are not here to hurt you.” Again her voice comforts me, I feel at ease. “You’ve been through a lot Jean-Luc Veilleux. We can finally put a stop to all this.” One of the other Watchers hands me an odd piece of cloth, I assume he intends for me to stop my bloody nose with it. Sally continues, “we’ve been trying for years to crack your code word. Finally on this last run, we discovered it. Good thing, too. I don’t think your mind can handle the time loop much longer.”
What was your first clue, lady?
“Don’t blame Dave,” she continues. “Believe it or not, he means well. But we have put our rules in place for a reason. Truly, we could be gods to you if we wanted to be. The rules are meant to keep us humble. To watch over you without interfering with the natural course of things. Dave acted out like l’enfant terrible. He lost all regard for our ways and went renegade against us. His quest to do what he thought was right actually made him insane. You were the key to stopping him.”
Me again? Why am I constantly the key element in this whole thing? Six billion people in this world and I’m the lucky one.
“Don’t worry, Jon,” Sally smiles as she speaks, “your part in this is over. As we speak Dave is being apprehended. Don’t worry, he will not be harmed but he will lose his powers as a Watcher. He will live out a long and healthy human life just like the rest of you. He will have no memory of his past life on the fifth planet nor his time as a Watcher. We will watch over him as lovingly as we do all of you.”
I feel at peace as Sally explains things to me. Things are not hectic or chaotic like they were with Dave. I think back to my first memory of this so called time loop. It’s of Sally seemingly trying to seduce me. Is that what she was doing? Should I trust what she says now? They have all mentioned that I have been in this time loop much longer than my apparent memory tells me. What if I can’t trust any of them. What if I’ve been caught up in the middle of some Watcher civil war and they continuously wipe my memories to suit their needs.
“You tried to seduce me once?” I tell her.
“Yes,” she agrees. “Yes, I guess I did. It was a desperate attempt really. Time was running out and we needed your code word. I thought I might be able to get close enough to probe your mind. Drain you as Dave undoubtedly put it. It would not have hurt you though. It would have simply brought us to this point much earlier.”
“What about the end of the world?” I ask. “2012, or 6023 or whatever it is. Are we destroying ourselves?”
The Watchers look at each other and speak in their strange trilling language. Finally Sally answers. “It is impossible to tell the future, Jon. We can only observe the past. If destruction is meant to be, it is meant to be. Nature will simply run its course and there is no way to prevent it. We are probing the world for the next generation of Watchers to start the next Terraform, but that is simply a precaution. It doesn’t mean we have any knowledge of an eminent end.”
At this point, I can see what’s coming. I hope she isn’t seriously considering asking me, but I prepare for the question.
“No Jon,” she says. I swear these people can read minds. “We are not going to recruit you. In truth, you are more than caring enough and we believe you would be a fantastic Watcher. But your mind cannot handle the stress anymore. You have time looped too many times without the proper conditioning required to withstand the stress. Your brain tissue is too far gone now to accept the process.”
Great. Brain damage, here I come.
“We will be able to repair the damage enough for you to have a long and healthy life, don’t worry about that,” she explains. “Just not enough to prepare you for the conditioning.”
That’s a relief.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “Soon you will not recall any of this. When we are through you will have no knowledge of the ordeal you had experienced.”
Sally extends her hand to me again. I take it, expecting to wisp away again at super speeds. Not this time. She walks with me to a chamber door. The door seems to appear out of the solid wall of the Rifter. I guess I never did notice how we got in here.
She leads me to another strange room with surroundings identical to the Rifter. I can hear a voice screaming and yelling in a panic. It’s Dave’s voice.
“LET ME GO!” he screams. “IT MUST BE DONE!”
I can see him now. Sitting in a strange type of chair. He’s strapped in the seat and struggling violently. There is an identical chair next to the one he’s in that I know is meant for me. With Sally still holding my hand, I do not feel afraid. Supposedly, this chair is going to send me back to my normal life. But what if it doesn’t? The chair could fry my brain for all I know. But there is something so comforting about Sally’s hand. She has a caring nature about her I’ve always been able to feel. I can remember it being there even before I can remember being involved with this mess. I guess that is why I trust her. Why I willingly climb into the chair.
I lay back into the seat and do not struggle. I reflect on everything I’d seen throughout this adventure. I know where we’re from and I know where we’re headed. Doomed if we keep on the road we currently travel. Sally referred to Dave as l’enfant terrible, but I don’t think that is entirely the case. Dave was simply trying to protect us from ourselves, granted his solution was the wrong one but he felt the sacrifice was worth it in the end. When you really look at it, it was we who acted as l’enfant terrible. We as the human race of the third planet. We developed the audacity to abuse our planet instead of nurture it. Never looking back at the consequences of our actions until it was too late. Never feeling remorse for the damage and pain we put this beautiful Earth through. As I see the bright light shoot towards me, I pray it’s not too late to change our ways.
* * *
Morning comes sooner that I’d have preferred.
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