Empty Planet

by Lynette Sloane

  “Mr. Franklin has suffered some temporal stress, but thanks to the antibodies in his blood the effects have been minimised.”

  “Minimised?” I questioned, fearing for my friends safety. I’d never seen any one look so ill. These effects did not look minimal.

  “Yes. I’ve explained to my patient that temporal stress can cause weakness and aging in some cases, but in his case the effects will be temporary. He’ll be back to his old self in a few weeks.

  “The first analysis is very promising, but we’ll need some more blood in a couple of days when our guest here feels stronger. Thereafter we’ll need a small sample every second day.”

  David didn’t acknowledge the specialist, but turned to me saying, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You’ve done very well so far,” I tried to encourage him. “They only want a small sample every other day. Your body will hardly notice the difference.”

  “It’s not the blood, that’s the easy bit, it’s the people. I don’t think I can cope. I’ve been on my own too long. I miss my animals and I don’t want anyone else near me … except you of course.”

  Over the next few months I visited David Senior every day. Delighted with the results of their research, the doctors started taking daily blood samples and stockpiling them for creating the vaccinations. David gradually grew stronger and slowly put the weight back on. During his stay at Section he dealt with his unique situation by refusing to speak to anyone but me. When I was with him he chatted freely, telling me all about his farm, the animals, and how he’d caught a half grown, wild dog, tamed it and kept it as a working pet, but while I was away not one word passed his lips.

  He cooperated with the medical team, letting them take blood samples and generally check him over, but he wouldn’t talk to them. A couple of times I noticed a smart, middle-aged lady trying to engage him in conversation, but he completely blanked her refusing to say a word. She seemed upset and each time left holding back tears.

  I asked David who she was, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and said, “No one that matters.”

  I promised him that I would be there to see him off when he returned to his time. The thought of going home cheered him up considerably and he told me he was actually looking forward to going back.

  About four months after David Senior’s arrival, Doctor Toren, the Chief Medical Officer, came in with some news. I offered to leave so he could speak to his patient in private, but David insisted that I stayed.

  Doctor Toren explained that as David was no longer in contact with the super-virus his body had stopped making the required antibodies. The other medical professionals had all agreed that if David stayed in this time frame much longer he wouldn’t have enough residual antibodies left in his blood to survive the super-virus when he returned to his own time, although, of course, if the anti-virus were successful he wouldn’t need them anyway.

  Toren checked David over the following day, making sure he was strong enough to leave, and then discharged him, telling him a vortex would be programmed to take him home at around ten o’clock that evening.

  “It can’t take you back any sooner,” the doctor explained, “as the vortex system is being upgraded and will be offline.

  Dad rang me with the news that David wouldn’t have to wait for the next window in the meteorite fragment shower, as he was still immune to the super-virus. Unfortunately, sending him back to the exact time that he had left would cause a rift in the temporal fabric— causing time to fragment—so Section had decided to send him back to a point in time two days after his initial journey. This left enough distance between the jumps to preserve the temporal fabric, ensuring that he wouldn’t have been away from the farm for too long; no one wanted his animals to starve.

  That evening I left the smallholding and travelled to Section by vortex, hoping to spend a couple of hours with David Senior before he left the natural time frame. Dad met me outside the vortex room. We walked across Area C towards the infirmary, and were just passing a rest area where employees came to sit and relax during their breaks, when a technician rushed up and asked Dad to oversee some final adjustments to the temporal vortex interface.

  Dad groaned and said, “Ok. Steve, wait here. I’ll be two minutes.”

  I chose a leather chair next to a large foliage plant, sat down, leaned back and shut my eyes while I waited. After a short time an alarm sounded and I became aware of a commotion. People started rushing through the corridors, deep concern etched on their faces. I stopped a technician and asked him what was happening, but he wouldn’t tell me anything.

  While I was deciding whom else to ask, a Hub Supervisor Technician hurried up to me. Dressed in a charcoal grey pencil skirt and white blouse, she was a little older than me and wore her long, dark hair in a single French plait at the back of her head. Her nametag read, ‘Vanessa Wilkins’. She took my arm and led me to one side.

  “Mr. Franklin’s gone,” she said.

  “What already, I promised to see him off through the vortex,” I said, disappointed.

  “No,” she continued, “a few minutes ago the chief medic discovered a male nurse lying in Mr. Franklin’s bed. Mr Franklin is missing. He’d taken the nurse by surprise, knocked him over the head, and put him in his bed covering him with a sheet. The medic’s uniform, security pass and car have all been taken. The whole of Section has been searched and we’ve just heard that the car has been found about seventeen miles from here. No one would have guessed Mr. Franklin could do all that. He put on quite a little old man act.”

  As she was speaking her pager sounded. She checked it for a message then said, “We’ve been summoned to the Hub. There’s an emergency meeting.”

  We quickly made our way there. The large room was filled to capacity, and although we took a seat near the back C immediately spotted me.

  “Good, Steve Blakely is here,” he said, then addressing me added, “You know David Franklin better than any of us, after all, he wouldn’t speak to anyone but you. Do you have any idea why he ‘escaped’ and where he would go?”

  I stood before answering, “The only link he has to this timeframe is his sister, his father, and his younger self, but not knowing the exact date would make it difficult for him to locate any of them. He wouldn’t know where they would be.”

  At that moment a rather overweight, but smartly dressed man stood up. I didn’t recall having seen him before. He spoke hesitantly, like a child who knows he has to tell the truth but nervously anticipates the repercussions of what he has to say.

  “Mr. Franklin asked me for a newspaper yesterday so I let him read mine. I didn’t see any harm in it; I was just amazed that he’d spoken to me.”

  C sighed, “He was planning this, newspapers always have the date on them, so he now has the exact date. If his memory serves him well enough he’ll remember where his younger self, his father and sister are right now.

  “Steve any idea where that might be?”

  “Anna will be on her way to Port Eynon on the Gower Coast.” I quickly checked my watch adding, “Actually, she might already be there. I planned to meet her at the caravan park later tonight. David, that is, young David from this time frame, and his girlfriend, Dawn, are in Penzance and are joining us tomorrow. As far I know her father will be at the smallholding.”

  Doctor Toren waited for a moment, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stood up. “I think I might have made matters worse. I told Mr. Franklin the vortex interface would be offline until later this evening.”

  C took a deep breath and started pacing back and forth in front of the main viewing screen, every eye watching him as we waited in silence for his directive. He stopped pacing, steepled his fingers, and looked down bringing them up to his forehead, then turned to face us, lowering his hands.

  He looked very troubled and spoke with urgency, “So now David Franklin Senior knows we can’t use vortex technology to follow him. This was the perfect opportunity for him to make his getaway. It�
��s imperative that we stop him speaking to his father, his sister, and his younger self. David Senior mustn’t be allowed to change history, it could mean that we never discover him to be a survivor, and then there would be no vaccine, and no hope for mankind … and we don’t even know what effect it would have on the time-space fabric should he come into contact with his younger self.”

  The Commander gave orders for a contingent to go to the smallholding and another to Port Eynon, with the instruction that they find David Senior before he could have having any contact with Anna, his father – who in this time frame would be younger than David Senior now was—or his younger self.

  “This is probably the most important mission you will ever go on,” he told them, “so do whatever is necessary to bring David Senior back alive, but if this is impossible, shoot to kill. David might have to die to give us all a chance of life.”

  Then turning away from us he quietly added, “Someone else once did that.”

  __________

  My instinct was telling me that David Senior would be trying to reach Anna. I hoped I was right. C had made it clear that if David Senior refused to come back he could be shot, so I needed to speak to him before Section found him.

  I knew it would take several hours to reach Swansea by car, and then another half hour to reach Port Eynon. Dad was sitting a few rows in front of me, so I texted him on his mobile as I couldn’t risk anyone overhearing what I wanted to ask him.

  ‘I need a chance to speak to David Senior. I think I can talk him out of this and get him to come back with me. He won’t speak to C’s men. They’ll probably shoot him. Can you help me?’

  Everyone was beginning to leave the Hub area. Dad made his way to me across the crowded room and discreetly dropped his security level pass into my pocket. Speaking very quietly he said, “Go straight to helipad B and show my pass to the pilot. He’ll fly you wherever you need to go. I’ll sort it all out. It will be at least two hours before the vortex interface is back online”

  I left the Hub and ran to Helipad B located behind the Area B buildings. It was quite a distance and I was gasping for breath by the time I got there. The helicopter engine was already running and the blades rotating. Two armed security men caught up with me. The taller one, a huge muscular guy well over two metres tall, asked to see my pass. They watched me very carefully, their hands on their weapons as I brought the pass out of my pocket.

  “Ok,” said the other security man. He gestured me to board the helicopter. “Your trip has been authorised by the Commander and we have orders to accompany you.”

  We all ducked as we ran under the helicopter blades and climbed inside. Soon we were flying towards the Gower coast. I learned that the larger guard was known as Goliath, and the other was called Red due to his distinctive flame red beard and crew cut. Original, I thought.

  About forty-five minutes into our flight the lights of a large settlement came into view.

  Goliath pointed though the window and shouted over the thwok thwok thwok of the helicopter blades, “That’s Swansea.”

  Red had been told I could handle a handgun so passed me a Smith and Wesson nine millimetre with silencer saying, “We’re going to land in a field about half a mile from the campsite, then we’ll make our way over on foot. You’re to go on ahead and we’ll shadow you at a distance so the target won’t panic. He won’t see us unless we want him to.”

  The pilot landed the helicopter in a field and cut the engine. I was running on adrenalin, hoping that I would find the right words to say to convince David to come back with me. His life was on the line and I wanted to protect him.

  Goliath told me to ring Anna to see if she was still alone or if David Senior was already with her. I made the call but there was no reply so I phoned her brother, younger David, to find out if he knew her whereabouts.

  He seemed pleased to hear from me, “Hi Townie,” he said cheerfully, “I’m really looking forward to our break this weekend. Anna phoned about an hour ago to say she’d arrived at the caravan. She couldn’t get hold of you. Dawn and I will be following tomorrow.”

  “I’ve been trying to reach Anna but she’s not answering,” I told him.

  “Oh, that phone of her’s drives me mad, it’s always on silent.”

  Not knowing I was poised for action in a helicopter near to the campsite, David gave me the postcode so I could find it on my satellite navigation device, adding, “It’s easy to get to, take the Gower road out of Swansea and keep going as far as you can. After about seventeen miles the road stops abruptly. If you carry on you’ll drive onto the beach. The campsite’s on the right.”

  I thanked him, ended the call and phoned Anna again. She answered on the third ring.

  “Hi Steve, you on your way?”

  “Yes, I’ll be about an hour, depending on the traffic,” I lied, hoping that one day I’d be able to tell her the truth about this night.

  “Which caravan are we staying in?”

  “ Eleven B.”

  “Is anyone with you?”

  “No. I thought I told you the others aren’t joining us ’til tomorrow. We’ve got the caravan to ourselves tonight.” Speaking in a more seductive voice she added, “Can’t wait to see you … to slid my hand inside your shirt … and kiss you all over.”

  Slightly embarrassed that Goliath and Red might have overheard Anna’s words I said, “Sorry, my phone’s cutting out … speak to you later, love you,” and hung up.

  “She’s alone,” I told the two security men, who nodded in acknowledgment.

  As the three of us climbed out of the helicopter and started walking towards the caravan site the heavens opened, soaking us within seconds. Thick cloud cover made it difficult for us to find our way, although the moon occasionally fought its way through and lighted our path for a few moments at a time. Goliath rested his hand on my shoulder to get my attention and we all stopped walking.

  He spoke quietly, “You have to be professional and lay all emotional attachment aside. When you spot the target, talk first but use the handgun if necessary. Remember the bigger picture above loyalty to David Franklin.”

  I shuddered at the thought of using a handgun on my best friend, and hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The rain was getting much heavier. I looked at the caravan site ahead of me, wondering which was Eleven B.

  From David Senior’s perspective this weekend break had happened many decades ago during his youth, so if his memory served him well he would have the advantage in finding the right caravan. I left the two guards by the hedge bordering the site and carried on alone, climbing over a style and walking up the muddy road towards the site.

  The moon came out from behind a cloud, spotlighting a vague movement near to an old stable building. Whatever it was seemed to have gone inside the stable, so I crept over to the building and peered through a dirty windowpane.

  I’d found him. David was sitting on a bail of hay, resting before he walked up the hill to the caravan. As I opened the door he looked up, slightly shaken at seeing me.

  “You have to let me go; I have to warn them. I can’t lose them again; I can’t live through those empty years again,” he pleaded.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied. “I’m sorry you lost Anna and your father. I’m sorry for the whole human race, but I can’t let you change history.”

  David argued, “It’s not history yet. In this time frame it hasn’t happened yet. It doesn’t have to happen. Anna doesn’t have to die.”

  “You know I want that more than anything,” I answered him, determined not to let any thoughts of Anna suffering and dying cloud my judgement. Without her my life would be as empty as the planet I often visited.

  Drawing on all the inner strength and determination I could muster I continued, “But if you warn her you’ll change history, and if, as a result of your warning, I don’t bring you back to this time frame, there won’t be a vaccine and everyone will die.”

  David stood up and slowly started moving towards the ba
ck door. He walked with the stoop of the elderly, his gait giving away his age. I wished I could read his thoughts, or at least see the expression on his face, but it was too dark and Jumpers don’t have any special gifting for mind reading.

  “But Steve, if that’s the case, and I never travel back in time with you, I won’t be able to warn Anna and everything will stay as it is now.” His voice seemed detached somehow, like he was talking to a stranger, and not to his good friend.

  “I don’t know, it’s a time paradox,” I replied, slowly taking my gun out of my coat pocket, my hand hidden in the darkness. I realised I wasn’t going to be able to convince him to change his mind, but I didn’t give up trying.

  “Please come back with me David. We can work something out. Section will do something.”

  David was adamant, “I’m going to Anna. You’ll have to shoot me to stop me, and if you kill me you’ll be killing Anna. Can you live with that? Can you kill the woman you love … the mother of your unborn child?”

  “What? Anna isn’t pregnant.”

  “No not yet, but she was six months pregnant when she died. That’s why she asked our father to carry the Christmas tree in out of the pick-up.”

  I didn’t know whether to believe David or not. He was desperate and would have said anything to convince me to let him go to his sister.

  My head was spinning, trying to work it all out, but I had my orders. I had to remember the bigger picture.

  I continued, “By that measure, if I let you go I’m killing the whole human race, including Anna and any children we may have. Please give the vaccine a chance to work. I’ll make sure Anna gets a shot.”

  David was slowly making his way past some timber stacked precariously against the stable wall. There were several large pieces. It was hard to make him out in the darkness, but I edged forward towards him, hoping to overpower him rather than shoot him. As I neared him he pushed the timber towards me and made a run for it through the doorway. The wood fell against me, striking me on the side of my head and knocking me to the ground. I dropped my handgun. Instinctively I brought my hand up to my head. It felt warm and sticky. I was bleeding from a gash just above my left ear. I fumbled around the floor searching for the handgun in the shadows. My hand brushed against it so I grabbed at it, struggled to my feet and staggered outside the stable. In the distance I could make out David’s silhouetted figure running towards a caravan.