The Time Tribulations

by Travis Borne

  “Steve,” Red said, “your turn. Explain it to them, please.”

  98. Revelations

  “Jim,” Steve said, slowly shaking his tan plastic head. “The lenders over there, please take another look at them.” Like a breeze, all eyes drifted toward the sleepers. “They have never faltered. For more than twenty years there has always been at least one lender plugged in.”

  “Of course,” Jim replied. “I know enough about lending, I’ve been doing it for nearly fifteen years. Now what does this have to do with anything? It’s great to meet your family, Red, Maggie, and no disrespect, but after this meal you've so graciously served we need to get the equipment we came for, and we need to get back—or our friends are going to die.” He desperately wanted that genetic manipulator, and the materials Martin had specified; he wanted to fix his friends and head out to save the others, kick some ass, rescue his brother. Jessie snuggled closer, like an extension of his resolve, like a wife—for they had just recently spent decades together, in Hell.

  “Jim,” Steve continued, as if ignoring the plea, “please listen. Herald didn’t leave this world until he finally found Amy. After he found her, Q and all others left except for Red and his family, and Manny and his family—Amy was the one thing holding him back and he was convinced that somehow, she was still alive out there. He had fallen deep into his madness, again, pushed Ana away for a time, and was more secretive than even you realize, and I’m about to let you in on a secret. When Herald finally found Amy he opened up, but not before his madness had transformed him into something else. He would yell at nothing but air, and talked exclusively to someone named Demon—there were others too, and they tormented him terribly. It all came back to him, the demented, twisted thoughts and hallucinations, so he finally told us later. Red and I, for Ana could no longer get close to him, brought him back—and we did so using what had become of Rafael’s sketches.”

  “What secret? What does this have to—”

  Red interrupted, “He found you first, Jim, three years before he finally found Amy. You were the first try… He had given Jerry, your brother, his word that he would do his best.” Jim shook his head quickly, not getting it.

  “He printed Amy,” Steve said. “We still possess all of that technology here.”

  Breathing ceased, and others cocked their heads.

  “We can do marvelous things,” Red said. “Jim, he wouldn’t have left you. Herald, while he can at times really plummet into the depths of his own tortured mind and transform back into a misanthrope, he is and has always been a man of his word.”

  “So, what are trying to say?” Jim chuckled sarcastically, nervously.

  “You are not the real Jim.”

  “Well, that explains a lot,” Rafael said within his mind, thinking about how Jim had so easily taken over Marlo’s system.

  “That’s ridiculous!” Jessie exploded. She looked into Jim’s eyes and pressed herself into him. His saltwater blues, the ones she had come to love, bled with nervousness. And Jim rose to his feet and bolted, leaving Jessie’s arms. He already knew where the bathroom was: right next to the now magnificent countertop, the one that had been simple once, having only a despised TV. This time his nervous shit wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  99.The Shit

  “Get a hold of yourself, Jim,” he told himself. Beads of sweat were water balloons blowing up from the pores of his bald head. Flurb, plup, plub, flurp—blump! He hadn't eaten much since he’d been in a coma, and had lost weight—flurb, plup, pupupub, zzit, zeet, pift, pift—but this was a total clean out, and the water balloons hit him, soaking his blue lender uniform.

  “It just can’t be,” he said, finished but unable to move. “That would mean I have that thing in my head, that I was needed just as much as Amy, that, it just can’t be—there’s a Jim in every one of the towns Herald had created! All of it was one huge test, a setup to save some, the good ones—and kill the rest. A filter!” He thought of a miner, sifting the dirt and taking only the worthy stones, the gold.

  Knock knock. The taps were light, meek.

  “Jim, can I come in?” her voice asked softly.

  “She won’t love me anymore,” he mumbled. “I’m not even fucking real!”

  “Jim, please.”

  “But why in the world am I in love with Jessie anyways?”

  “Because we love each other.” Jessie had crept in slowly, and amid the pounding in his head, his fast hyperventilating, she was right there on the other side of the stall door. “Jim, I love you, and I will always love you.”

  Silence.

  “Are you holding your breath, Jim?” She heard a pushing, forced moan, like a person recovering from a punch to the gut.

  And through ringing ears he heard something, something sliding across the floor. He looked up and there she was, looking down on him. She turned her head at the smell, then refocused onto his bloodshot eyes.

  He was doing it again, just like he had explained to her, when they talked and walked for years. After he’d released Amy he held his breath, tightened every muscle hard enough to tear tendon from bone, and his temples throbbed like toad bellies.

  But amid the smell, Jessie’s eyes bore into his soul.

  If I have a soul, he thought. She was doing it again, too, something powerful, and with it came a warm feeling that assuaged his red-hot rage, calling it back down, and this time he was convinced—it works out here, on the outside. They’d been together so long—it had to be the other variable: the love that had grown between them. The bond was a tree the size of a universe and he could feel its roots enwrapping his heart, knowing it would never let go. And now, looking up at her, as she looked down at him on the shitter, he saw her as the branches of the magnificent tree they had nurtured. Even in Hell, it didn’t matter, the tree grew and grew. And he saw her backlit and as beautiful as ever—even when she was burnt like a marshmallow with no white center, she was still beautiful. He loved her inside and out.

  They were connected, mentally.

  Now, and just as she always had done when times got tough, when they were on fire, when they had to wade through magma—because it was the only way—she was doing what he loved most: smiling, and sending him her focused eyes—they were a gateway that linked them both, a gateway that could take them back and wring out the hell, leaving only the good. And it was her hair, too, now a more natural color and texture, and how it framed her thin, smooth face. Her bangs were golden arches, up in the center, her locks long and falling down to him like a lifeline. Her once so fluorescent eyes, now a gripping olive color—he had fallen head over heels for the woman he once despised, the woman for whom he had once held his breath, tightened his muscles, and nearly popped tendons from bone. His hatred was the reversal of a planet’s magnetic pole, from negativity to positivity, but mostly it was the shedding of a rubber suit, his old skin, his ignorance and shortsightedness.

  “I love you and I’m never going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, James.”

  It wasn’t the first time she had called him James. But he liked it every time she did. Only his mother had called him by his full name, James—”

  “James Derek Otts, I want you to flush and come out of there now.”

  Now, she was calling him by the entire thing. They were married, as a matter of fact, had said the vows after their bodies had regenerated to a near usable state. Their eyes and sensory organs always came first—a good thing, even burning in Hell, where time was a runaway train—for they had found each other, on terms which allowed openness, impartiality, and equality to prevail.

  The sweat balloons stopped being filled. Jim took in a breath. “But, I’m not James.” Jessie's eyes were hands reaching into his hot red heart, smothering the fire. He looked up at her, and she glared at him banteringly; the inside stuff only they knew bounced back and forth.

  “You are James, to me, still Jim to everyone you know.” She pulled her hair back, which had been falling over the wall of the stall she seem
ed to have gotten comfortable on, and made a pony tail—she always made a pony tail when she got serious. He loved it when she’d take it out, her blond locks would fall like golden rays of light whipped round by a gravity tornado, and, he also loved when she pulled it back into a tight, spanking-new ponytail—when she meant business.

  “Jessica Rose Mancini, I love you, but what am I going to do?”

  “Flush, James.” Jessica smiled. Jim’s color returned and he smiled too. He wiped, made a weird face after sliding the paper—or whatever it was—through his ass, then reached behind to flush.

  “Where’s the damn handle?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Open the door so I can take a look.”

  “Just go ask, Jess.”

  “Okay.” Jess climbed off the wastepaper bin and went for the door.

  “Wait, I found it.” Suuuwish-kuuoo-pahhhh! With the power flush went a part of Jim—he’d be James; and also went a part of Jess. The name George had branded her, after a porn star he liked—she’d be Jessica, now, Jess to Jim.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you, Jess. I really hope we can—”

  “We can, now come on out,” Jess said. “I think they have something you are going to want to hear.”

  100. Santa's Beans

  The table was silent. Only the kids who had been told to go play and the peaceful sounds of the indoor forest, could be heard. James exited the bathroom, walking a little awkward for the first few steps, and went to where Jess was sitting. He didn’t take a seat, just stood behind her and said, “Spill the beans, Santa Claus.” There, someone finally said what everyone was thinking! Santa chuckled, and laughter erupted.

  Red said, “I think that would be best, and spill it I will. How about we log in to my map so I can show you—”

  “No!” Jon said, Jess said, James said, Lia said, even Rafael.

  “Just kidding,” Red replied. Unsettling relief was nerve gas. “Sorry, I hope that wasn’t in bad taste.” They had discussed it briefly on the elevator: the recent successful rescue.

  “You should be a comedian,” Rafael said. “What we’ve recently endured is a sensitive topic.”

  “Rafael, we’ve been down here a long time, and well, being cooped up—”

  “Get on with the explanation,” James burst. “Long time? I bet you don’t even know what a long time is.”

  “I’d say,” Jess mumbled.

  “Apologies. Perhaps there was something I missed.”

  Jon said, “Sir, if you would, please continue.”

  Red turned to face James. “Actually, Jim, we do realize what a long time is. Rafael and Herald had been working on many things, but Herald is gone, never coming back. Thankfully for us, and unlike Herald’s, Rafael left his notes, sketches as we’ve come to call them, unlocked. We’ve learned many things and we have managed to break a part of Herald’s encryption, actually our oldest children have accomplished that. In terms of their minds, they are more than 120 years old, and in combination with another program which we simply call The Stuff, have the combined knowledge of a thousand-year-old human. What can they do with it? Well, like I said earlier, you haven’t seen anything yet.

  “We’ve been connected to every city, and have been able to see just about everything that occurs within them since near the beginning, but the connection is still only one way. Fully encrypted transmission, the same way a lent consciousness gets transferred to the sphere within your head, Jim. And—” Red looked over to Lia.

  “Are we? Am I?” Lia asked, eyes wide.

  Steve answered, “No. You, just like the Ted in your town, are the real deal. Although, you were copied. There were a select few who were copied in order to nudge the course of events a certain way. Anyone who had logged in to the system could be copied, and some were, discarded later—accidental death, or by other means—after the intelligent part of the grand plan, based here, had decided it so.” A sigh escaped them all.

  “Playing God,” Nanny said.

  “Yes, it was Herald’s plan from the beginning,” Steve continued, “and he was a real misanthrope, although Ana, and Amy—and you, Rafael…he always thought of you as his best friend and became very distraught when he’d found out what he thought you had done…these special people in his life managed to pull him out of his lunacy for a time, hence, he saved some rather than sitting back to watch it all burn. And Herald never said he could save all. A misanthrope’s compromise was to save only those who had proven themselves worthy.”

  “But what about James?” Jessie asked.

  “Jim?”

  She nodded.

  “Just like I told you, Jessie—”

  “Just Jess from now on,” she said, and reached up to squeeze James’ hand. “Right, James?” He still stood behind her. She looked up, he down, and their eyes linked up.

  Red looked over to James, and then to Steve. Steve said, facing James, “There is nothing to worry about, Jim, excuse me, James—” It was glaringly obvious now, Jess and James had shared one hell of a moment in the shitter. “—in fact, with the gift you possess, you are quite extraordinary. And you are, we surmise, the only living human left on Earth who possesses it. Perhaps you shared a special moment with Herald when he had arrived? And therefore, he had a change of heart, deviating from his plan, allowing you to stay, allowing someone as special as you to remain. Herald is extremely perspicacious and we must assume he knew you’d accomplish something special as well, of course however, not how and in what way—that is a choice he put into your hands. You see, James. You are the one, now, you are—special.”

  “But you said earlier that you possess the technology here,” Alex said, picking up on a piece of the puzzle that didn’t jive. “Is he so special if you can print more?”

  “I said we unlocked a part of Herald’s encryption,” Red replied, “the lending program itself, not every endeavor he’d accomplished. We believe unlocking the mystery of the sphere in Rafael’s, James’, Steve’s, every bot’s head, is as paradoxical as the anomaly that is Herald.”

  “Marlo said he could duplicate it,” Jon said. “The one Herald handed to J—James. Marlo—I mean Martin—said that it is unlocked. And Rafael, you helped to construct it, correct?”

  “Herald was the key,” Rafael replied. “I helped, and worked on other things, but as I already explained to you and James in the Old Town map—well, it is the same, Herald possesses a special gift. And if Isaac and Madison have deciphered the core of the lending program then they are quite gifted as well.”

  “James,” Steve queried, “has your system, Martin, made the attempt?”

  “He needs parts. Hence part of the reason we are here.”

  “Well, we have tried and it cannot be done, at least not by us, and especially not after it has been activated by a new consciousness—then it becomes locked, permanently.”

  “Hmm,” Jon pondered. “That is something we have yet to think of. But we could still try, correct?”

  “Yes,” Steve answered. A silence arrived, until the kids playing in the tree house screamed; they were chasing each other around it, and swinging on a tire swing.

  “So, what is to become of the love of my life,” Jess said, impatiently.

  “Jim—James, excuse me,” Red said, “you can become more than any bot. You have the potential to be smarter than even Madison, the young woman with the highest stable IQ, EIQ, and CIQ, in the world!”

  Jess added, “Emotional and creative intelligence quotient.”

  “Yes,” Steve confirmed.

  “A higher IQ than Herald’s?” Jon questioned.

  Steve replied, “Well, we cannot say, yet I presume not, in a sense. Herald has a very special gift. He is an anomaly within the universe, and instability comes with that, so it seems.”

  “This is insane,” Jess said. “But you said James would be okay, able to live normally.”

  “Madison and Isaac are due to log out any minute now and we will provide a demonstration that
can explain it better. Are there any lenders here who would like to take their place? It really is quite a world, and I think a great opportunity to experience something new. Very relaxing, invigorating, and there’s a lot to do. Two lenders, any volunteers?”

  “I’ll do it,” Trixie and Nanny and Lia said at exactly the same time. Abell just raised his hand.

  “I’m with you, Trix,” Alex said, following her adventurous urge.

  “Me too,” Fran blasted. “This crazy talk is twistin’ my brain into a ball of knots.”

  “Your brain has been in knots since I met you,” Nanny quipped. Chuckles among those who knew the red-headed pilot well confirmed just that.

  “Can you take six?” Lia asked.

  “There are beds enough for four.”

  Lia and Abell relinquished the chance, allowing Nanny and Fran, and Alex and Trixie the opportunity. Then Red continued, “You may head over. The process is no different than that at your facility. Once inside please let Isaac and Madison know they have guests. Two of you will have to wait until they wake up, but it should be soon after.”

  Trixie asked, “And how will we know who, or where they are?”

  “They will know, and find you.”

  Trixie and Alex headed over, holding hands. Fran and Nanny bumbled along behind them. Everyone watched them leave, anxiously. The new couple looked back once: Trixie sent a thumbs up, Alex nodded then tugged on the edges of his suit like the secret agent he loved to act out. Within moments of logging in Isaac and Madison awoke, then sat up. James looked back at Santa who was smiling as if Christmas had arrived, and Santa gestured with a nod. James returned his head, and upon seeing it, his jaw as well as the jaws of his friends sitting at the table, fell open.