The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

  Joe continued his questioning. “So you investigated the missing machine. What types of crimes do you investigate normally? Are the enforcers like police?”

  “I’m not familiar with that term.”

  “Police?” Joe asked. “Cops. They catch law breakers.”

  “Yes,” Fort nodded. “But not the laws of the land. The laws of life. I enforce those.”

  “And they are?”

  Fort shook his head. “I can’t say. I don’t want to give too much away.”

  “So the time machine, being immoral or unethical fell into life enforcement.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you tracked the time machine thief.”

  Fort shook his head. “No, I wasn’t tracking the machine thief at all. The individual I was tracking ended up actually being the one who took the machine. I followed this persons trail and found the HG Wells. The trail stopped there. A quantum scientist was able to determine that several trips here were made and the final one the perpetrator planned on staying. They sent me through to retrieve and destroy.”

  “Retrieve and destroy what?” Joe asked.

  “The clone.”

  Joe looked at Jason then Frank. “The clone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Male. Female.”

  “I don’t know.” Fort said. “The clone had been placed in a special habitat, protected and watched by only a select few. No details were ever given. The clone escaped its habitat, killed its guards and I have been tracking its scent.”

  Frank asked. “Like a dog.”

  Fort snickered. “Sort of, but I had a unit that picked up on the chip barcode placed in the clones foot. Unfortunately, one of the things that told us about the clone’s plan to stay here was the fact that the chip was removed. I kept getting the chip signal, but I was also getting a trail of blood.”

  Joe nodded. ‘The clone was carrying the chip.”

  “Yes, sir. And the chip was left behind at the HG Wells. Which ended up being rigged. Obviously.” Fort explained. “So you see, I don’t know anything about the clone except it’s here. In this time. In Beginnings or one of your provinces and it’s blending in or hiding well. There’s a reason the clone was locked away. I’m fearful if we don’t find it, what could happen.”

  ***

  They laughed. It was too good not to share in person with Dean and not to make an event over. She stopped at the bakery for some flat bread, Hector had his salads done up with the left over vegetables and she topped it with the new apple vinegar.

  Lunch with a kick,

  The kick being a laugh.

  “Oh … my God.” Ellen shook her head, wiped her mouth and stood from the cryo lab stool. “Water?”

  “Yeah,” Dean took an after laugh breath.

  “It is so funny, Dean.” She paused at the counter. “Rabbit three died.”

  “Nah, he’s fine.”

  “His insides are out.”

  “Shit.” Dean jumped up and raced over. “Shit. The new antibiotic exploded.” He brought a piece of bread to his mouth took a bite, shrugged then went back to his lunch. “Guess I made it too strong.”

  Ellen brought a glass over. “They were talking to him for a good twenty minutes.”

  “And they told you what he said?”

  “No, I eavesdropped. Then I asked Fort.”

  “You mean Tenanay.” Dean said.

  Ellen giggled. “Frank is so funny.”

  “So, Fort actually called it the HG Wells?”

  Ellen nodded. “The …” She quoted her fingers. “Hayes, Godrichson, and Wells machine.” She noticed the odd look Dean gave her. “What?”

  “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that he called it ‘Hayes’? I mean Billy …”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head.

  “Why?”

  “Because he told me he was from the future and I said, “Oh, I was there my son Billy reinvented a time machine to go.”

  “Ah…” Dean nodded. “Now I see.”

  “Great imagination Fort has.”

  “Not really, I mean if he was wandering around, how ingenious is it and creative to come up with the ‘clone’ story.”

  “Awfully convenient after you just confessed that.”

  “Tell me about it,” Dean said. “You are going to have so much fun with him.”

  “I know. I love delusional.” She sighed out.

  “So, you said Frank, Joe and Jason were talking to him for a while. What’s Frank say.”

  Ellen cleared her throat and did her best Frank imitation. “Fuckin’ whacked.”

  Dean snickered. “Joe and Jason.”

  “They really didn’t say anything.”

  “You don’t think they believe him, do you?’

  “Who? Joe and Jason?” Ellen fluttered her lips. “Please. Hardly. The last two people in Beginnings who would believe he was from the future would be Joe and Jason.”

  ***

  After a final few clicks, Jason conceded with a shake of his head. “The HG Wells is no way connected to the regressionator. No way. His trip from the future didn’t register at all with my machine. I just went through and should have caught a ripple or wave. Nothing.”

  Joe rubbed his chin. “So, that means someone else definitely recreated it.”

  Jason nodded.

  “Is it possible Jason? Just think for a second. Is it possible this person is the one messing with your machine, only doing so from the future?”

  “Absolutely,” Jason said. “He could have used his own machine. Went back twenty or so years, messed with this one. I mean, whoever recreated the HG Wells is a genius.”

  “Could the clone be the genius?”

  Jason shrugged. “Don’t know. But the clone explains a lot of the strange things happening.”

  “You know, people were talking about this cloning Dean did. See? It came back to bite us in the ass.”

  “We can’t blame the clone on Dean.” Jason said. “As much as I’d like to. We can’t. Cloning has been around and will be around long after we’re gone.”

  “But, let’s suppose …” Joe said. “Suppose some sort of freak war happened, wiped out everything including your time machine. That was rebuilt, but what would remain unscathed in Beginnings?”

  “The cryo lab and tunnels.”

  With a snap, Joe pointed. “Exactly. Dean’s research. What if he never stopped working on the clones?”

  “Lied on television.”

  Joe held out his hand palm up. “Could be.” After another run to his chin, he lifted his phone. “Dean? You busy? Good. Hey, do me a favor. I know you said you killed the cloning project, but could you give me a list of the people you did clone?” Joe rolled his eyes. “The why is not important, can you? Good. See you in a few.”

  Jason watched Joe hang up. “What’s going on?”

  “Fort chased a clone through the time machine. He said the clone has been here before. I say the reason we haven’t seen him is because we see him or her all the time.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “You bet your ass. The clone can’t be figured out, because the clone blends right in. It may have been born in the future but it’s a clone of someone right here. Right now.”

  Jason stood up. “Let’s get that clone list.” He stopped at the lab door. “Joe? Out of curiosity. Have you thought about the possibility that Fort didn’t come from the future, but rather made it up like Ellen suggests.”

  “Yes, I have.” Joe nodded.

  “And?”

  “And …” Joe breathed out. “Though realistically my daughter may be correct. It’s been pretty damn dull around here. I’m having fun.”

  With a smile, and a ‘me too’, Jason opened the door.

  ***

  Before the world went bad, back in the days of baseball, television, constant music and carefree living. Before all that, people were normal. Frank reflected on that. Particularly a lot.

  He made a list of questions for
Fort. Even if Fort was delusional, Frank wanted to hear about life in the future. Were things back to the way they were before the world died?

  He had to go to the Killer Baby region, and Frank opted to do it alone. After all, it gave him time to think and a part of that area really did spawn those memories of the old world.

  They were particularly vivid. Memories of the old world. Ellen gave him the go ahead to do it. Frank wanted to plan it all, his gift of sorts to Ellen. And he started with zero hesitation.

  He had just gotten back from seeing Reverend Bob, setting up a wedding day. Gemma was excited about a cake she was going to design. Ben From Fabrics said he and Todd could come up with a fabulous dress for Ellen and Frank had plans to pull out something he hadn’t looked at since right after the plague.

  He didn’t even think Ellen knew he had it. He kept it folded in a box. While on the food run with Jonas, Frank stopped at his old base housing and retrieved it. Folded it neatly, wrapped it in plastic, and tucked it away.

  Since he was eighteen years old he had loved Ellen. Since he was that young he envisioned himself standing at the altar watching proudly as the love of his life journeyed toward him to bind them together forever.

  Yes, they married before. But they did so with no fanfare. No family or friends. In the middle of a field, they said ‘I do’. Simply and quick.

  Perhaps that was why they had so many problems. They didn’t do it up right, and they didn’t do it the way they deserved.

  The year before Ellen promised to marry him, but he was taken by the Society.

  Finally they came full circle. His fantasy of life was about to come true. Frank always wanted to be standing there waiting on his beautiful bride wearing his Army dress blues, complete with every metal he earned in every battle and wore.

  So proud of life.

  And he was about to get that chance.

  Ellen always boasted how she loved him in uniform and Frank hoped she wouldn’t think it was dumb. He ran the idea by Hal. Hal gave that proud smile, grip to Frank’s arm and said, “Big Brother, I think now you see why we dress the way we do in the UWA. The pride shines much brighter.”

  Then Frank asked Hal to be his best man.

  Not Robbie. Not Jimmy. Hal. Hal was the one who championed his and Ellen’s relationship without ever interfering. So he asked.

  To which Hal was floored, choked up, and honored.

  Like he always saw in his mind, his brothers would stand by him during it all. All of them dressed in uniform. Frank would have to find dress blues for Robbie, and a Navy Whites for Jimmy.

  Hal would help him. He was even moved when Frank showed him his old Army Dress Blues. But Hal suggested maybe Frank was a tad bigger. So Frank took the uniform down to Ben. Ben cried when he saw it. Certain he had outgrown it, Frank was surprised it didn’t need much tailoring. Ben would have that ready, along with his cover. As far as the metals and pins, Frank had plans to shine them up himself.

  He didn’t have much time.

  March 20th was just around the corner.

  The wedding day.

  He literally got a twitch in his stomach thinking about it.

  But he had to pause those thoughts when he arrived at the gate.

  A baseball resting against the inside perimeter made him laugh. How it got there was beyond Frank. Probably one of Robbie’s numerous testing techniques.

  “Down 32.” Frank spoke into the headset.

  “Got it. Want it back up while you’re out there.”

  “Um …” Frank peered out. “You know what? Yeah. In case they are feisty today.”

  “Roger that, Frank. Over.”

  Frank lowered the headset, waited for the sound of the gate to go down and opened it.

  “I’m in,” he said. “Bring it up.”

  Security did.

  Breathing out an ‘Okay’ and thinking, let’s see what’s going on up here, Frank forged forward. The tales of the sperm swamp filled his head and he chuckled. Pulling out a map of the region, Frank checked the sector and head that way. It wasn’t too far from the gate. Folded map back in his pocket, Frank arrived.

  “What do we have here?” he saw, speckled throughout the area a white dust. Crouching down Frank ran his fingers through it. “Not sperm.”

  It was a heavier dust. Particles that stuck to his fingers. He blew it outward.

  Adjusting his radio, he changed the channel. “Dean, you there. Dean come in.”

  Static. “Here, Frank. What’s up?”

  “Hey, I’m up in the region. At the sperm swamp.”

  “Is there new stuff?”

  “That’s negative, Dean. Have you checked that sample you took the other day?”

  “Not recently. Why?” Dean asked.

  “You near where you can check it?”

  “Um … yeah. Hold on. Why.”

  “I want to know the consistency.”

  “It’s in the fridge so it’s should be ….”

  Pause.

  “Dean?”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a powder.”

  “Same here. I don’t think its sperm, Dean.”

  Dean chuckled. “Neither do I.”

  “I’m not convinced it’s a molting either.”

  “Really?” Dean asked. “Why do you say that?”

  “Fuckin’ animals up here, Dean. If this was a molting, birds would be everywhere.”

  “Even with the killer babies.”

  “They don’t eat everything. Plus, where’s the maggots. Flies. No, this is something completely different.”

  “I’m reluctantly gonna agree.”

  “Alright, just checking with you. I’m gonna scope the area some more and see what I can find.”

  “Since you’re the only one who can.”

  “And I forgot my music player.”

  “Looks like you’re gonna have to sing the Journey songs.”

  “Hey, Dean?” Frank asked. “Want me to sing over the radio?”

  Before Dean could answer, Joe did. “Don’t you dare.”

  Frank’s head cocked back.

  Then Henry, “That’s not very nice, Joe, Frank has a wonderful singing voice.”

  Robbie’s laughter broke through. “Yeah, right. I love you big brother, but…”

  “Guys,” Jimmy cut in. “Why do you pick on Frank.”

  Hal said, “Because he picks on everyone else.”

  Dean’s interjection of, “There you have it Frank. Now make your own call. See you when you come in.”

  “Fuck,” Frank whispered. ‘Can no one stay out of my business? Look at you guys all fuckin eavesdropping.”

  “It’s not eavesdropping,” Joe said. “It’s a goddamn radio, and you hit ‘all call’”

  Frank looked down. “Oh.” He chuckled. “In that case.” He stood up. “Ladies and Gentleman, for you listening pleasure …”

  “Frank!” Joe radioed.

  Robbie grunted. “Uh.”

  Henry said, “Sing faithfully.”

  Frank cleared his throat and began to sing his own words to Faithfully. Instead of ‘Highway Run’ …” he sang, “And they run … really fuckin’ fast, their gnarly little jaws, began to chomp …”

  Break in song.

  Joe: “Jesus Christ.”

  Frank continued, “Killer Child …”

  “Frank, this is a goddamn radio.”

  Frank ignored the call and kept on going. “Stalks thirty-two, running in a pack come after you …. And being me ain’t easy on little Dean. He wishes he was as strong as me. I get the joy of indestructibility. Oh, man, I stand right here. I’m forever Frank ….”

  Silence.

  Frank stopped.

  After a moment, Joe interjected. “Annoyingly.”

  Robbie clicked in to laugh.

  “Come on, big brother,” Hal said. ‘That was funny. Gotta give it to Dad.”

  “Hold on,” Frank whispered.

  “Frank?” Joe
called out. “Everything Okay.”

  “Just a sec.”

  One step, one crunch of the winter leaves and nature under his boot and Frank stopped when he heard it. A rustling. It sounded like the killer babies, but he couldn’t catch the scent. His head turned from left to right, shifting eyes, looking for whatever it was he felt.

  In his earpiece, “Frank.” Joe called out.

  “I’m going into Radio si ….”

  Fast. Rustling. Whistling, Frank caught it in his scope of vision. “Fuck,” He wisped out. Pulling his rifle forward, Frank barely had time to aim when he saw it sail his way.

  Head first

  Body prone.

  A Killer Baby.

  “Stop.” Frank ordered

  It didn’t. But something wasn’t right. About the way it approached. The way it came his way didn’t sent the typical warning signals off.

  The Killer Baby slammed into Frank’s chest. It hit him like a concrete block, the heavy thick weight crashing into his mid section, and briefly stumbling him back, taking his breath away.

  The body of the Killer Baby went from his chest to the ground. Did the aimless impact render it unconscious? A quick glance down told Frank that wasn’t the case.

  A purple ring, thick around its twisted neck showed Frank how the Killer Baby died. The discoloration told him the child was dead for a while.

  He pulled the mouthpiece close. “We have problems.”

  “What’s going on?” Joe asked.

  It didn’t make sense? Something broke the neck of a Killer Baby? How was that possible? Not only were they tough, but too fast for anyone to catch.

  From a squatting, examining proposition, Frank stood. “Dad, I have …”

  It came from nowhere. Unseen, but felt. A slam to the left side of Frank’s face, hard, sailed his head to the side with a loud crack that rang through over the airwaves along with a rarely heard grunt.

  Joe set down the radio, rubbed his chin. In the jeep he had pulled over, looked to Jason, lifted the radio again and made the call on a different channel. “Robert …”

  “I’m on my way, Dad.”

  With a quick jerk of the wheel, Joe sped the way of the back gate.