The Time Tribulations

by Travis Borne

  101. Maddy and Isaac

  Madison and Isaac stretched, smiled a hello to Nanny and Fran, rotated their heads to see the group at the leisure table—and then floated over. Nanny and Fran, having waited patiently for the only other beds, gazed up at them as if Halley’s Comet had arrived early—then finally mounted the beds with faces like adult-sized, Floridian children who’d just seen snow for the first time. Baffled, with stoned mugs, they logged in.

  Around the fantastic phantasms air warped as if the center of their heads contained a starburst of fists punching gravity.

  Agape, every guest blinked eyes; some did reality checks. A diaphanous aura, like hairs on tarantulas caught in a breeze, came off the hovering young adults, barely distinguishable as they floated like helium balloons. The young adults went up and over the table and toward the kitchen counters.

  “Hello, visitors,” Madison said.

  “A pleasure to finally meet everyone in person,” Isaac said. He wore a white jumpsuit, similar to the basic uniforms in Jewel City, but tighter with a little sheen. Both were taller than their parents, like Winter, and very, very good looking. It was apparent on faces—every countenance said, “Red and Maggie can’t really be your parents,” and, “How is this possible?”

  They descended. Maddy plucked an orange drink from the fridge, Isaac took a red cocktail, then both walked on air like 80s dancers on the moon: Isaac went round counterclockwise, and Madison, she floated like the second hand on a thousand-dollar wrist watch; they took a seat. Next to Jess, Madison smiled and said, “Just call me Maddy.” Inside minds, handshakes, hugs, and greetings fluttered like a bomb’s payload; the shrapnel was butterflies. “They are our parents, but we have three parents. Herald is our third parent. He also is our father.”

  Isaac answered the other most prominent question: “We have learned to manipulate the physical realm that binds us.”

  “Incredible,” Jess said. “And you can read our thoughts?”

  Inside her mind, as well the other humans, Madison replied with a yes. Eyes went round; all received the same word, not exactly a yes but rather an image of a glass head floating above a field in the springtime: the mouth released iridescent soap bubbles, popping gently like real ones made by a kid, a 99¢ plastic wand, plus the cup of soapy water. Every bubble whispered, “yes, yes, yes—yes,” and with it came smells of spring flowers, and warmth by light from a bright yellow sun. The clarity was a world of glass.

  “Rafael, you knew about this, surely,” Jon said.

  “But of course, although I had my doubts about any of this, the bunker and anything or anyone actually remaining here in Vallecito.” He nodded to the young adults, Winter, Maddy, and Isaac. “I departed to construct Jewel City before the three of you were born. But now, I am very interested upon seeing the long-term results of this particular project. Red and Maggie could never have kids, and this was one of the projects Herald and I worked on together. Maddy and Isaac possess a part of Herald. Winter possesses DNA from Ana. When Red told Herald in the heli-jet that they could never have kids, Herald sparked at the idea. Manny and Blanca likewise could not conceive, nor any of the first lenders—and that is how he recruited them, all stemming from the glint of an idea sparked by Red’s words one fateful day. In return for lending, well… Red was the reason Maggie couldn’t conceive, therefore, she received a special gift from Herald, and Blanca received a gift from Ana. And there were others, but as I now see, they all left with Herald.”

  Isaac, his purplish aura settling, said, “If I may, Rafael?” Rafael nodded, and Isaac continued, “We have some explaining to do and we are very excited about you, James. When we—”

  “How did you know I’m going by James now?”

  Isaac merely tapped a finger to his temple, then continued, “When we learned you were going to stay we received new purpose, besides just living to procreate and evolve—exponentially at that.

  “And we recently devised a means to help you rescue the others, your brother.” Isaac had the voice of a senior citizen: calm, mature, yet youthful at the same time. His hair, red mottled with plugs of jet black, was combed neatly, such as a 1950s businessman’s.

  “It would be quite a deviation from your plan,” Madison said. “If you will hear it?” Likewise, Madison was gentle with her words, levelheaded. She spoke elegantly and clear and wore her uniform, the sheen, white suit, close to her skin; her aura was brimstone yellow like heaven in a bottle, its scents pouring out and teasing nostrils, eyes, and it went through ears, touching brains like a massage. She had shoulder-length, wavy dark-brown and blond hair—as if her head was mottled with Herald’s seed. And her curves rivaled Jess’s, but less shapely than Winter’s.

  “Of course,” James said, “after that demonstration, surely we can work together, and surely we will need the powers you possess. What is—” He thought about them saying he was special. His mind was quick, too, putting things together like no other time. “Am I going to be able to—”

  “You will be able to do much, much more, James. If you choose to go through with what we have planned. But please, do not become apprehensive as we tread into this idea. It is only one plan, one that we know will work. It will save not only your brother, and those about to die, those currently dying far beneath the sea, but possibly, this entire planet.”

  They know everything, James thought. And then he thought about—tacos and tequila; and he shook his head.

  “We know a lot,” Isaac said, reading his mind. “We can manipulate matter to a substantial degree and communicate over vast distances using the power of thought—and that is just the tip of the iceberg, and unfortunately, the recent subconscious thought breezing through your head is spot on.”

  “What are they talking about, James?” Jess said. She squeezed his hand and he finally took his seat beside her. James’ hand got warm as if he’d actually drank some tequila, just then; Jess saw the image like a tumbleweed passing through her mind: James, her love, gulped a double shot of the glimmering gold.

  “Do you have any?” James said, craving some for real. He rubbed Jess's leg nervously—his hand had become a steam iron—and he smiled uneasily.

  “Not tequila,” Red answered, “but how about some more of Red’s finest? I do have a stronger batch.” He nodded.

  Jon acknowledged like a best friend there for his bud. He said, “I’ll have some of that.”

  And Rafael, he had his own spot-on prescience—they (Lia, Jon, and he) received many of James’ memories through the system while logged in to Jim’s personal hell, especially the most recent memories. And although Rafael had evolved enough to no longer need to fake eat and drink, this was a special occasion. And it wasn’t long before the now not-so-jolly Santa, more seriously, went round the table delivering presents to one metal cup after another, his secret stash.

  Glasses raised—a toast akin to glorious knights at the round table before the battle soon to decide the war. All rose, save Jess’s glass. She knew something was wrong, and she hadn’t removed her eyes from James.

  James—perspicaciously—realized it was one of them, Isaac or Maddy, who had made the shot taste exactly like tequila. They modified only his senses. After the shot his nervousness faded to nil, his ass puckered no more. He hadn’t a need to take a shit this time, and he was more content than he had ever been. James’ feelings were a flood of goodness. He remembered Nelman, the touch to the center of his chest right before the first bot he’d accepted since the war, leapt like a cheetah; Nelman made the ultimate sacrifice—and so did the Amy he knew, a lent person, perhaps, but a real one, just as real as he was sitting here, in some bunker, in some decimated land that had once been “Colorful Colorado.” He said, “It’s okay, Jess. Whatever happens, I will always remember the hundreds of years we shared. Amid the pain, the heat…well, I wouldn’t trade any of it for anything in the world, but I must trade something for the world.”

  She fell into him. She squeezed him. Tight, her arms were the essence,
the definition of love. And after one, maybe two, or three tense minutes among those at the table, one or two or ten or twenty that said right then and there, “You are third wheels, all of you. Please…wait…you’ll be back to the universe in a minute—maybe 633 plus one million minutes.”

  James heard her, felt her, and he held her equally in return. His mind sent a jolt of power to a memory: the extra millions of minutes they had stolen, the heaven before the hell, the hell that, when looking back on it, was heaven as well. He changed once, twice, and this was the final step in the evolution of his ego, an ego made possible because of a lent consciousness. And the favor will get paid in full, he thought, he roared!

  Jess wiped her tears and sat tall. James wiped his tears, tears of love, tears from a new and completely different man.

  And Jess took in a fast, sucking breath. She sat upright. A flash of her new and old self, too: when she’d been in court, facing the angry citizens of Jewel City—and now. With passion, with resolve, with spirit, she sat tall just like she’d sat in court that day, and said, “Spill it, Isaac and Madison.” She crossed her arms, and did not have to wait.

  102. The Decision

  Five heads at the leisure table fell back as if sinking into an imaginary headrest. Eyes closed, and some mouths fell open.

  The imagery unfurled as pellucid iridescent water. The flood came over them like spring from winter, as if Chronos had clicked fast forward. A new dream world went through five minds, and like the Higgs to a universe, materialized their bodies. Logged in, without equipment! Similar to the map Marlo had shared with three humans and a bot, this world too possessed substance, enough to make faces gaping nutcrackers. And there stood Isaac and Maddy before them, floating. James, Jess, Jon, Lia, and Abell stood on the ground, which seemed to rumble beneath their feet as if it was alive. They didn’t need to ask where they were, through mental transference Maddy explained much, but not everything.

  “This is the world as it could have been,” Isaac said. He waved an arm about. Ahead and to the right, fertile land laid out before them a waterfall crashing its water into a lake. Left and farther below were vague remnants of a crumbled bridge that had been consumed by the forest. The stream flooded over yesteryear’s echoes and meandered down the mountain; boulders were moved against massive pillars as if an ice age had once bullied them, carving the land. White water sloshed and the stream, like a million white rabbits, made itself disappear into the thick, damp woodlands falling and sprawling out before them. The growth, as if steroids arrived with nightly rains, was a sight to behold.

  “A world, without us,” Maddy said, after a long moment of silence. The wilderness, mottled with valleys and stabbed by huge rock swords, all topped with even more green, was a glutton to the same fresh oxygen currently teasing their lungs, in turn widening eyes and dropping jaws. “We want to get it all back, while there’s still time.”

  Just then the green forest fluttered beyond the lake. That rumble again, traveling up and into their knees, but this time it was stronger. Through the mist and behind boulders the size of a neighborhood, something rustled the trees: sugar maples, magnolias, and unknown oddities the size of redwoods, gnarled like bonsai trees, and there were flowers like umbrellas: purples, teals, and fluorescent yellows, and orange palmettos resembling starbursts. Then it poked out, at the end of a very long and twisting neck; then came two more, and a smaller one. Could it really be?

  “Dinosaurs!” Lia erupted. After disturbing the crooked trees, countless others scattered: colorful birds the size of automobiles, and smaller ones schooling like fish. The sky became a tapestry. Myriad species twisted up and about like living rainbows.

  “Every type of life, once,” Isaac said. “Accelerated-growth tech could restore it on Earth. And because of Boron many species have been saved. They can all be resurrected to their former glory.”

  “Boron?” James asked.

  “Soon you will know much, James. All of you. Earth could thrive like this for its remaining one billion years. Earth basks in the habitual zone—Mars is positioned to receive it for another billion after that.”

  “This is the planet Earth? As it could be?”

  “This, Jon, is Venus, enjoying its last billion—Earth, as you very well know, took a turn for the worse. Humanity on Venus, was exceedingly similar, for a time.”

  “How can you possibly know this?” Jess asked.

  “Our highly developed minds—a result of Rafael’s now finished program, which we simply call The Stuff—have been able to connect with various beings. Most are good, and some want to help, and some, have provided advice in the form of foresight. We managed to communicate with the few Venusians who had decided to remain in the physical universe. Although they now reside billions of light years away, on another world, they told us much. Long since departed and very wise, our predecessors seeded Earth before departing. And humans here, unlike the Venusians, misused power frivolously. This—” Isaac waved his hand outward again. The landscape changed, flattened. “—is Earth.”

  The Brontosauruses became elephants. The group now seemed to be somewhere in Africa. Still, Isaac and Maddy floated mere feet above, and James, Jess, Jon, Lia, and Abell stood in the vegetation of a savanna.

  “The Great Serengeti Plains.” Isaac’s gesture was another Christmas ghost, and an ominous sensation tugged on stomachs. The plains were a vast, undulating, tan carpet, and the group looked out from behind an oasis of bushes, with tall trees resembling umbrellas that’d been blown upward.

  A rushing noise stopped any mouth that wanted to ask another question, and it was apparent: whooping and hollering was getting louder. Men ran out from around them, thirteen charging hunters, or just plain drunks. They wore power shoes and had jumper packs. Leaping, laughing, some tripping—they chased the elephants. The tech they possessed allowed for great speed and their leaps were up and over and beyond. A beat-up, light-blue safari vehicle came next. It followed the acrobatic inebriates, jumping bumps and jolting the driver who held a beer out the window, as steady as he could.

  The wired, loaded, tipsy, dancing dronkies teased the elephants, and the baby cried out for its mother. Jess could watch no longer. She turned her head after the first shot took Momma down. And the drunken sadists teased the baby elephant, prodded it over and over and over and it cried and screamed until the volts made it go weak, then they killed it, too. And the kings of the congregation roared, trumpets sounded loud enough to make the ears of the hiding onlookers ring: tuning forks were swords delivering cold lacerations deep into their brains.

  But the trumpets soon ceased. Only laughing could be heard.

  In a facile, sickening, and heartless manner the team of poachers killed every one of the magnificent beasts. Sawing began quickly after. Then they loaded the tusks onto the vehicle while buoyant boasts uplifted spirits—that and another round of beers. “Payday boys,” one man said. And then they were gone: leaping away, some running as fast as a cheetah—courtesy of clever technology. Most rode in the truck, beers bouncing with attitudes in the clouds. And the elephants, who’d minutes earlier seemed playful and content, had been left to rot.

  The five of them, plus Maddy and Isaac, bore witness. Saddened, destroyed, and not a one shed not a tear. Abell, the animal lover he was, grew angry and became red. Then, more changes.

  “And everything led to this.” Maddy waved both arms about.

  The grass went from tan to gray and the world crumbled like a cracker being crushed by an angry god. Knees buckled as the ground told each of them to sit—and they fell onto garbage. The pleasant sweetness of the earth, although tainted with evil, pride, greed, and the unbearable, the unthinkable, was vacuumed from their heads. And heads rotated this way and that, while Isaac and Madison still floated; tears fell from their eyes, and the sun that made the larger-than-life drops glimmer as they fell toward today’s planet Earth, faded away. Black and white the world became, and cold, and the stench was spoiled meat cooking on a grill abo
ve burning tires, its broth a chemical hodgepodge. The sky became a fog enswirled in pollution, and they covered their faces from the stinging odor which had become toxic gas. Five confused individuals stood like five fleas within matted clumps of interminable trash, rubble that had been cities spanning hundreds of miles in every direction, and buildings were toppled gravestones. There no longer came any transference from the two white-suited gods hovering above them; minds stepped henceforth, alone, wading through priorities, evolving, realizing hard truths, accepting change, and even, blame.

  “The world…as it is today,” James said. He brought his head up slowly, and the others mimicked decisively. A touch was a finger going into their hearts. On the end of the finger was a bright light telling them one thing…

  “The power of possibility resides in your hands, our hands, and those willing.” Somehow Maddy and Isaac were channeling energy into them, and then the five of them knew well of the Venusians, and the others.

  “Yes, James,” Isaac finally said, with his virtual mouth. “And it will take a miracle to bring everything back, but we believe we just might have found a way, and it’s all thanks to a decision you made recently, selflessly. And henceforth everything will again depend on you, and one very important decision.”

  “What—what’s happening now?” Lia asked. They could sense another change and knew it was the last Christmas ghost they’d meet. The odors peeled away, the world became a hand of objectivity rather than a pit of subjectivity, and the seven of them rose up. Higher, then higher.

  They flew around the world and both Madison and Isaac really began. Maddy told them exactly what it was going to take, and she and her twin brother demonstrated their ideas as if they shared oppositely polarized minds balanced by unknown energy—the power to stabilize something wonderful. The plan was fully absorbed over the course of one hour, and it wasn’t an easy swallow for everyone in the group. When all was said and done, they landed in the same wasteland from which they’d sprang, and James said, “I have made my decision.”