A Shattered Future

by Joel Adrian

  Her cell phone vibrated. She pulled it from her pocket and opened the notification panel. It read: “1 New Text From: Ollie.”

  Swiping the notification, she opened the text and read it over. It said: “Why the hell did u leave? What are u talking about? Plz call me.”

  Emersyn bit her lip. She couldn’t place a call, not now. But she also knew she’d likely be less permitted to call from Fort Ashen. She’d be surprised if they didn’t confiscate her phone. Bravon probably didn’t realize she still had it.

  She texted Ollie a quick message telling him she’d contact him as soon as possible but it was a matter of security and tucked her phone back into her pocket.

  The trip was wearing long on her. She was anxious, restless, and needed to get some air. Her leg was pumping a thousand miles an hour. She ran a hand through her hair. Never took that bath, she remembered.

  Tell me we’ll be there soon.

  The rest of the car ride was quiet and long. She’d resorted to draining the rest of her cell phone battery playing a muted game, and when it was near-dead she turned it off to preserve 10% in case she needed to contact someone.

  After a few more hours, they finally came upon the base. A sign out front welcomed them to Fort Ashen. Inside, there was a massive sprawl of military buildings, and in the distance, she heard guns being fired. Soldiers followed their drill instructor in a jog next to the side of the road. Others were in a spot doing push-ups, and another group was running through a large, expansive obstacle course.

  This is the real deal, she thought.

  Emersyn didn’t know much about the military or have much interest in it, but she recalled Ricky Garfield from High School had enlisted and often posted on social media about the army. That had been 10 years ago, but she saw his personality change, even in his online persona. He lost his immature sense of humor and became a much more serious, focused person. He’d served 8 years, then transitioned to a recruiter role.

  She glanced around at all the young recruits, their hair cut short and their faces trying to hide the intimidation. She knew she would never survive inside a world like this: being broken down by a drill instructor, shouted at, insulted. She’d end up going mad.

  The SUV pulled up to a small office and stopped. Outside, two soldiers were talking. The door to the office opened and a portly older man with gray hair stepped out. He was dressed in a suit one size too small and carried a briefcase in his hand. He stepped down the two steps on the deck and seemed to be out of breath.

  “Wait here,” Bravon said as he stepped out of the SUV, closing the door behind him.

  Emersyn watched with full attention. The Sergeant walked over to the man in the suit, and the two talked back and forth for a moment. Bravon turned and walked back to the SUV.

  Her heart rate tripled as he opened her door. He motioned for her to step out.

  She turned and grabbed her bag with a shaking hand, trying to ground herself and suppress her anxiety.

  “Good luck,” the driver said, not turning his head.

  Emersyn stepped out, the hot Atlanta heat immediately beating down on her. She brought a hand up and pushed her unkempt hair from her face, glancing around. Another group of soldiers jogged by, a drill instructor at their side swearing and shouting at them.

  “This way, Ms. Berg.” Bravon turned and led both her and the man in the suit into the small office.

  Inside, the air conditioning thrust relief upon her. She’d only been outside for a minute, but even that was enough for her.

  The man in the suit pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the beads of sweat lining his forehead. He wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

  The office was small. There was a desk that held a computer and a phone, a circular meeting table with plastic chairs around it, a couch, and an old, standard-definition TV in the corner. It was a cramped building, one of the two windows occupied by the air conditioning unit.

  Emersyn didn’t consider herself claustrophobic, but with even just the three of them here, the room felt constricting.

  “Take a seat,” Bravon said, pulling a chair back at the table. Emersyn and the man in the suit all sat.

  She tapped an index finger on the light brown wood, her gaze down but eyes darting from Bravon to the man in the suit, waiting for one of them to tell her what this is all about. She tried to purge the worst-case scenario from her mind, but it kept tugging at her.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” Bravon said, setting his hands on the table. He traded a concerned glance with the man in the suit and nodded. “This is Wayne Baron. He’s our resident scientist.”

  “Hello,” he said, offering a warm smile.

  “Hi,” Emersyn said quietly, eyes glued to the table.

  “We brought you here today because you’ve been unwillingly thrust into one of the greatest discoveries of our time.” He stood and walked to the desk. He opened one of the cabinets, and was back at the table a second later, holding a folder. He placed the folder down and pulled a pen from his pocket. He slid both to Emersyn. “But before I can tell you what it is, I need you to sign these.

  “They’re legal documents. Feel free to sort through the mumbo-jumbo yourself, but they all say that what we’re going to discuss doesn’t leave this base. You can’t tell your friends, family, anybody. Do I make myself clear?” He stared right at her.

  “Yes,” she said without raising her eyes. She opened the folder.

  Inside were at least two dozen pages of small-print words, throwing around non-disclosures and legal ramifications. There were four pages that she had to initial and sign. She knew from asking the Sergeant previously that if she refused, things would just get worse for her. As much as she’d like to, she couldn’t rebel now.

  She swallowed hard and, despite her shaking hand, signed her name on all the pages. She dropped the pen on the paper, closed the folder, and slid it back towards the Sergeant.

  The fear was dragging Emersyn down now. She clutched her eyes shut. “Now, can you finally tell me what’s going on please?”

  “Child, are you . . . open to change?” Wayne Baron asked. He had a heavy southern accent that contrasted with his high-pitched voice. His hand clutched the edge of the table.

  Emersyn opened her eyes, tilting her head a bit.

  She could see Wayne knew she was confused. He cleared his throat and extended his arm. “There are things we thought we knew, things we’ve taught your generation and many generations before that we . . . well, we just discovered might not be true.”

  She half-shook her head, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

  Wayne shifted his position, turning to face her with his entire body. “We’ve encountered something myself and my team can’t explain. I was brought in with 6 others. Physicists, other scientists, you name it.” He stopped for a moment as if carefully considering his next words. “It appears all we knew of time has been flipped 180 degrees.”

  Bravon stood and moved to his desk, picking up the landline phone. He punched in a number on the keypad and turned towards the two while he waited. “Yeah, I’m in my office. Bring her over. And watch her, I’m serious.” He dropped the phone back into the receiver and folded his arms. “She’s coming.”

  “Who’s coming?” Emersyn asked, looking up. The vague answer Wayne Baron gave her wasn’t putting her at ease, and now someone was on their way. She looked at Bravon, panicking. “You’ve got to tell me. I signed your form. Please.”

  He walked slowly towards the table. “Trust me, for something like this, it’s better that you see it first. I needed to. That’s why we came and found you.”

  She groaned. Everyone was talking in riddles, it was like they were under their own legal bindings to use vague words and indefinite answers. Glancing down, she focused on the table again, trying to calm herself. “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she said under her breath.

  “It’s okay, child.” Wayne reached over and put a meaty hand on hers. “Just remembe
r, we’re all in this together. This has thrown all of us for a loop.”

  Emersyn jerked her head up. “But I don’t even know what you’re—”

  There were two loud bangs on the door. She jerked to the side, eyes snapping over to it. The knocks were loud and bold, like the ones Bravon Pearson had used on her own door. They had an authority about them.

  Bravon spared her a concerning glance, and turned, heading for the door.

  Emersyn watched, fingers digging into the edge of the table. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she felt dizziness overcome her. The door handle turned and in stepped two individuals.

  One was another soldier. He had his gun drawn and at his side. In his free hand, he was escorting a prisoner. It was an older woman, bound at the wrists and ankles with chains. She had graying black hair tied into a ponytail and dark brown eyes. There was a scar running across the bridge of her nose, and the edges of her eyes were speckled with crow’s feet.

  As Emersyn studied her face, an uneasy feeling punched her in the gut. She felt like the curtain was being pulled back slowly.

  The woman looked like her, but much older.

  “That’s . . .” She couldn’t speak, she was at a loss for words.

  “Impossible?” Wayne Baron asked, shifting to arc his head towards the older woman. He rested a hand on his protruding gut and studied her for a moment. Emersyn could see the fascination in his eyes. “That’s what we thought, too. In fact,” he said, turning to look back her way, “we were sure of it up until the moment you answered the door for Sergeant Major Bravon here.”

  Emersyn couldn’t speak. She stared at the older woman, transfixed by her. That’s . . . me? The face was worn, but the same. The eyes were the same. Even the hair. That was Emersyn. But it couldn’t be, because she was Emersyn, wasn’t she?

  I’ve lost my mind.

  She buried her face in her hands and gave up trying to figure it out. The last 24 hours had been so stressful for her she’d no doubt lost her mind and succumbed to some form of hallucination. Bravon wasn’t real, Wayne wasn’t real, and the other her certainly wasn’t real.

  Sergeant Bravon Pearson leaned against his desk, watching Emersyn. “I know it’s a shock, but she’s you. We ran her DNA against yours. We utilized the government’s biggest database. This isn’t a mistake, this isn’t a joke. This woman is you.”

  Emersyn watched older self through her fingers, keeping her face shielded. The world was playing a cruel trick on her, and she wouldn’t give in.

  Turning to Bravon, Wayne shrugged. “Maybe it’s best if we, ah, leave ‘em alone?”

  Bravon turned away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know how dangerous she is.”

  “So we leave the guard. Whaddaya say?” Wayne stood with a massive sigh. “Come on, we sure as hell ain’t convincing her.”

  Bravon sighed and motioned to the guard. “You stay here. We’ll be outside. Anything happens, anything, and you do what needs to be done.

  “Aye, sir.”

  “We’ll be just outside. Give her a chance. She managed to convince the Command Sergeant Major, and that’s no easy task.” Bravon opened the door for Wayne. He pointed at the older Emersyn. “And you . . . tell her what you told us. This is what you asked for, anyways.”

  The door shut behind him, and the two were left alone.

  Emersyn studied the other her, trying to make sense of how this was possible. The situation felt achingly wrong. Not only did she have to believe the woman in front of her was, in fact, her, but now she had some sort of message she’d brought with her?

  The older Emersyn pulled a chair back and sat down directly across from her.

  “What is this?” Emersyn asked, letting her hands drop, forcing herself to stare into her much-older self. “You’re not real.”

  “Afraid I am,” elder Emersyn said. She leaned back in her chair, studying her younger self. Things were quiet between them for a minute. “You’ve probably got a lot of questions. The most important thing right now is that you believe every damn word I say. I’m going to start with that. I am you, and I’ll prove it.”

  Emersyn watched her. Even her voice sounded familiar. It was gruffer and held more of an edge, but it was hers.

  “Third grade. We had a crush on Joshua Pine. Followed him home twice a week for a month until he moved away. Remember that?”

  Emersyn nodded her head a bit.

  “Okay, and something more personal. I know I used to hate this: mom died when we were 12.”

  As her eyes widened, the realization struck Emersyn in the face like a slap: this was her. She couldn’t deny it.

  “Yeah, I remember,” the older Emersyn carried on. She cracked a half-smile. “I remember it all. Being afraid, not wanting to think about it. Who wants to remember their own mother’s death? We sure as hell didn’t.” She cleared her throat and sighed. “But it’s me, you can be sure.”

  “B-but . . . how—”

  “I’d show it to you, but the soldiers here didn’t trust me to keep it. There’s a gem that made all this possible. In my time, we called it the Requiem. It’s a gem that allows us to travel through time. There’s two or three of them we know of so far. There’s activation sites for the Requiems, the energy bonds within it, and it teleports you. I don’t understand all the fancy garbage they sling around with the science, but . . . it works.”

  Emersyn watched, trying to process it all. She was open to hearing it. She had to be: somehow, there was an older version of herself sitting before her. But time travel, a gem called a Requiem, it was throwing her for a loop.

  The elder Emersyn smiled. “Don’t worry, it took me seeing it to believe it, too. That’s why I’m here. We couldn’t just write you a message and throw it back. You needed to see this. You needed to see me.”

  “Okay . . .” Emersyn brought her hands up and rubbed at her temples. “But why you? I mean, why me? What’s so important? I’m nobody. I work at Atriarch. I don’t see—”

  “That all changes.” The older Emersyn leaned back in her chair, shifting uncomfortably. “At least, in my timeline it does. This is going to change everything. But I got out of that god-forsaken place. Found myself something I was good at. We had quite the ride.”

  “And somehow I ended up in the army?” She couldn’t fathom the idea of gearing up, using guns, and fighting. It all sounded so foreign even in her mind.

  Her counterpart cracked a smile. She was letting her guard down, Emersyn noticed.

  “The army’s the best damn thing to happen to me.” She looked proudly at her dirty uniform. “Gave me a place to be myself. I didn’t have to worry about pleasing Gary, I wasn’t concerned with some marriage I despised, I could focus on myself. We were one of the older recruits, but I did pretty good.” She winked at Emersyn.

  “Marriage? So Ollie and I . . .”

  “Four years.” She shook her head. “It gets worse. A lot worse. But trust me, it gets better. You get these fatigues, you get that rifle.” Her smile gleamed. “You kick some serious ass.”

  Emersyn couldn’t hide her smirk, but it was due to the absurdity of the claim. “I can’t really imagine it.”

  The two studied each other for a long while.

  “How’s this work exactly?” Emersyn asked. “Are you going to tell me every decision I need to make so I end up in the exact spot you’re in now?”

  The notion of time travel being real left Emersyn staggered. She had more questions brimming at her mind than she thought possible to hold in her head. The occasional fantasy about rewinding the clock or an interesting question posed by a movie had her consider the concept, but she had no idea how many of those rules would apply in the real world.

  The older Emersyn chuckled. “Not quite. I’m here to make sure you don’t end up in the spot I’m in, actually. If things go the way they did for me, your life is going to be hell. 20 years from now, the Ruskies end up combating us with nuclear bombs . . . we fire back, and the whole world goe
s to hell for it.”

  Emersyn vaguely recalled the small bit of the news broadcast she’d heard about there being a new Prime Minister in Russia. Was that was started the whole thing? The seed that would grow into nuclear warfare two decades from now? “Okay,” she responded, trying to look at this information with an open mind. If she broke it down bit by bit and didn’t try to take it all in at once she felt better. “How does this Requiem fit into all of this? How’d you find it?”

  “I didn’t. Some scientist in Idaho discovered it. Military swooped in and took possession of it, and from there, they tested its power. It’s one of those things you can’t really believe, at least not until you see it.” The elder Emersyn chortled. “First time I saw it, I almost pissed myself. When you take it to an activate site—”

  “How do you find these activation sites?” Emersyn asked.

  “They have this machine that tests for it, but the important thing is there’s one in Idaho. The time-jumpers have all said that they’re in the same spot no matter what timeline you’re in. It’s . . . a bit complicated. Hell, I don’t even understand it all. But what’s important is I’m here to stop that damn war from happening.”

  Emersyn bit her lip. Her mind was slowly absorbing the information, coming around to it. She reached her hands up and rubbed at her shoulders, the air suddenly felt more frigid. She tried to dismiss the semantics from her mind and focus on the purpose of the other Emersyn: preventing this destruction she was claiming. “Okay, so how do we stop the war?”

  Her counterpart shrugged. “Hell if I know. I told the Sergeant Major, he promised to pass it up the chain. I was sent back here after the war, but my Commander Thompson told me to make sure it starts here, because of the Prime Minister.”

  “Got it.” That confirmed the suspicion Emersyn had: the Prime Minister was related.

  The older Emersyn said, “The problem is, the military folks in this timeline aren’t exactly taking me at my word. Day or two before you showed up, they told me they wanted proof. They needed to see the gem in action.”

  As if on cue, the door opened and Sergeant Bravon, Wayne Baron, and the guard who escorted Emersyn’s counterpart re-entered the office.