by William Oday
It will come as small consolation, but know that I worked feverishly for ten years to return to that moment, to solve the problem of dialing in a time gate with such unerring accuracy.
And it finally worked! I did it!
Please forgive a dead man for his lingering vanity. Pride has always been my biggest failure. Pride that only I could lead this project. Pride that only I knew what was best for humanity.
That pride led to your death.
But maybe you will allow it to balance my account somewhat by knowing that it also led to your rebirth.
In any case, judge me however you will. I certainly have no room to ask for anything more.
And the reason for that is partly from the wrongs I have done to you in the past. But it is also partly from the wrongs I have to do to you in the present.
Judging from the state of the world as it is today, and knowing that you reading this means I was successful with what I will attempt tomorrow, I believe you must be and feel quite alone.
Alone to lead the project forward.
Alone to save mankind.
It is not a fair burden to pass to anyone.
And I know that you have never wanted to lead after the tragedy of your actions as a youth.
It is an injustice that you must accept. I wish that I could be here to share the burden, but I can not.
Listen to me, Zhang. My son, of my heart even if not of my body. Humanity’s future depends on you. And though you don’t believe it, you are strong enough to see it through.
Zhang wiped away the welling tears blurring his vision, making the text unreadable. He sniffed and continued on.
Here is what you must do. At the bottom of this file, you will find the contact information for high-level diplomats from around the world. Due to the nature of the calamity that has befallen us, I’m sure it will prove impossible to get through to many of them. But I am just as certain that some are reachable. Our facility was not the only one in the world prepared for this kind of emergency.
You must send an invitation to all governments of the world to come here. We have over a dozen stable time gates on this island. Each government must be given the opportunity to send its people through to colonize the past.
You understand the ramifications of power better than most. Those that accept and journey to the island will not want to share. They will want control of such a precious resource. They will attempt to use force if necessary to obtain that control.
And you must not let that happen.
The past doesn’t belong to one nation or one race, but to all mankind. Or as many as can take advantage in this new world.
And so you must issue a threat and be prepared to carry it out.
They will know if you are bluffing, and so you must not.
If any nation attempts to take control of Project Hermes or wrest control of a time gate not allotted to it, then promise that you will destabilize and destroy all of them.
The time gates are our only salvation.
If they want to survive, they will obey.
I know that explains nothing of the particulars. I know it will not be easy. But you stood up to a column of tanks with nothing but shopping bags in your hands. Whether you believe it or not, you are strong enough to do this.
Here at the end, my last thoughts are of you.
Tomorrow morning is the test. If it is successful as I believe it will be, then I will have achieved going back to the minutes before I lost you.
I intend to bring you back alive. Both of us, if possible, but it is you that matters more. What will have been moments for you has been ten long years for me.
Ten years of guilt eating away at my soul. I am no longer the man you knew. I no longer know what I am.
I only know this.
That I love you.
Growing up an orphaned gutter rat on the streets of Kalcutta made my heart hard enough to survive, but it also kept me distant from all who passed through my life.
All except you.
I never had a father and never had a child so perhaps I can’t truly know what that relationship means. But I know that I love you like a son. And like a father, I am proud of all that you have become.
You mean the world to me.
You mean all worlds to me.
I will love you forever.
Hari
Zhang covered his eyes with his hands. The moisture wetted his palms and trickled down his wrists.
He would do as Hari wanted. Not because he believed he was capable, but because he wouldn’t disappoint the memory of someone so dear.
Zhang swallowed hard and wiped the tears away with his shirt sleeve. He scrolled down to the long list of contacts that followed.
He paused on one.
A high-ranking official in the Chinese government.
He would send the invitations. He would do as instructed. And those governments that both believed and had the means would make their way to the island.
But one invitation would be different from the others.
The one to the land of his birth.
If the Chinese government wanted a future for its people, then they would bring something precious with them when they made the journey.
They would bring his long lost wife and son.
36
EMILY stepped back and watched the gray smoke curl up into the air. She used a long stick to shift the blanket of seaweed so that a little more air got to the smoldering fire underneath. It was a delicate balance between keeping the fire going but also smothering it with damp material to get as much smoke as possible.
She shifted things around a bit more until the balance felt right.
Tendrils of dark smoke swirled and twisting together as they rose. It was turning into a good signal fire. With the afternoon skies relatively clear aside from the blanket of smog that dimmed the higher altitudes, it would be visible for miles. If there were any boats nearby, they’d see it.
Which wasn’t guaranteed to be a good thing.
It depended on who did the seeing.
But after recovering feeling in her feet and legs from the morning’s close encounter with a prehistoric killing machine, she’d decided it was worth the risk.
The Coast Guard wasn’t going to be out looking for her. There would be no news broadcasts describing a missing girl and her last known whereabouts.
No. That was before things fell apart.
Things were different now.
She’d be lucky not to die here. Slowly starving and wondering why she was cursed. Wondering why she’d ever left her grandmother alone in Oakland in the first place.
The prize money was the answer, of course. But simple logic didn’t make so much as a dent in the dark misery festering in her heart.
If four leaf clovers gave people luck, her life was one long discovery of no leaf clovers. No leaves, just withered stems.
A low rumbling caught her attention.
Great. Just her bad luck. She’d been stranded on an island filled with hungry bears.
No. That wasn’t it.
She turned and almost shouted with glee when she saw a fishing trawler rounding the spit of land that jutted out to the south.
Fear followed a second later.
What if whoever was steering the boat wasn’t the rescuing-a- damsel-in-distress type? What if the damsel had just called over a new type of distress? The type that came with fists and knives and guns and an eagerness to use them?
There was only one way to find out.
She waved the stick back and forth above her head.
The trawler turned and started heading toward her.
Emily watched with equal parts anticipation and anxiety. She reached to her hip and unclipped the sheathed kukri. She attached it to the hem of her pants at her lower back. Better not to advertise any advantages she might need. She set the end of the long stick into the fire and laid it on the sand within easy reach.
It was thick enough to pack a punch. And fl
ames on the end would help as a deterrent.
If it was needed.
She hoped it wasn’t.
But hope wasn’t a good plan.
Backups were.
The trawler puttered closer and she saw a man appear on the deck. He waved and shouted something but the distance and the pounding surf swept the sound away.
Emily waved her hands above her head in wide arcs.
The man waved back.
“Hello!” she shouted. She cupped her hands together to amplify the sound and tried again. “I need help!”
The man waved again and then disappeared inside the pilot’s cabin.
She couldn’t make anything out through the windows from this distance.
She waited.
The trawler slowed to a stop some fifty yards beyond the break.
What was he doing? She didn’t want to swim out there. The water was freezing cold, and she hadn’t forgotten the monster from that morning that had nearly crushed and drowned her.
The man appeared again on the front deck and tossed an anchor over the side. He peered after it and must’ve been satisfied with what he saw as he started toward the back of the boat.
Emily saw it now.
A small dinghy hanging from ropes on the aft deck.
The man shifted it out over the side and lowered it to the water. He waved again before climbing over the side and dropping into the smaller boat.
He seemed nice enough.
Maybe she was being overly pessimistic.
Maybe the world didn’t have a plan to make her miserable and knock her down every time she got back up.
Maybe.
The man yanked an ignition cord a few times and an outboard motor puttered to life. He took a seat and revved the engine making it sound like a weed eater on steroids.
The dinghy spun around and headed for shore.
Emily was about to yell with joy…
But it died with a gurgle in her throat.
In the open water out beyond the trawler, a dark shape rose out of the water.
37
In seconds, what could’ve been initially mistaken for a swimming seal or something equally harmless became clear.
A wide triangular fin cutting through the water, spilling white foam to the sides behind.
Emily waved her hands, frantically trying to tell her would-be rescuer to go back. “Shark!” She pointed behind him and screamed so loud her throat burned. She held a flat vertical hand to her forehead hoping he’d recognize the scuba signal for the creature. “Shark! Behind you!”
The man waved and the dinghy kept coming. Now halfway between the trawler and the beach.
The front of the trawler jerked down, the bow dipping below the surface before it bobbed back up. The shark inadvertently severed the anchor line because the line still attached to the boat floated on the surface of the water.
The crashing water off the boat settling down got the man’s attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw what Emily saw.
Passing by the trawler, sending a wave that slapped into it broadside, a seven foot tall fin soared above the surface. A massive shadow darkened the water beneath.
The outboard motor shrieked as the man got on the gas.
But it was too late.
White water churned as the massive broad nose of the beast rose above the surface. Jaws opened revealing row upon row of shredding death. Water sluiced out between the rows, spilling down in small waterfalls to the surface below.
Emily screamed, because there was nothing she could do to help. And that somehow made it worse.
The sound came out of her mouth, but also came from a deeper place. A place that recognized the finality of the end. A place that had fought that end since the beginning of life.
The man jumped to his feet and lifted his hands as if they might somehow protect him from what was to come.
Half of the beast’s body rose above the white water before it hit its target. Dark gray skin lifted above the water line revealing the lighter shade of the underbelly.
Emily wanted to turn away.
But she couldn’t.
The beast came down with the crushing force of an avalanche. Wild power that knew nothing greater than itself. An animal perfected over millions of years of evolution now executing on its promise.
The back of the dinghy jumped up as the leading wave hit it. The man stumbled back. He didn’t fall. There wasn’t time before he disappeared into the dark abyss.
The gaping maw simply erased him before splintering the dinghy into exploding fragments of shredded fiberglass. The broad back of the shark slipped down into the water. The dorsal fin sliced through the surface and spun away toward deeper water. With a final powerful kick of its tail, the monster sunk below the surface.
The swathe of white frothing water stood out against the surrounding blue. Bits of the dinghy bobbed violently away, riding the smaller radial waves.
It wasn’t like the attack on the orca. The water didn’t turn the red and pink of blood and bubbles and water.
There was no blood.
None.
It was like the man had never existed.
He was there one minute and gone the next.
Emily stared at the spot in horror as what little evidence remained slowly ebbed away. But then she noticed something that pushed the thoughts away.
The trawler was drifting. Heading straight toward the jagged rocks that crusted the shoreline to the south.
She didn’t hesitate.
She ran, dragging up and into the survival suit as she went.
That boat was her way out.
If it didn’t get bashed to splinters first.
Out of breath, with her heart hammering in her ears, she jumped out onto the wide band of rocks where the boat was headed.
She was going to get there first!
Emily skipped from one uneven surface to the next. The boots of the suit doing a good job gripping the wet moss-covered rocks.
Getting there first was one thing. Then, she’d have to jump into the water, swim out to the boat and figure out how to climb aboard. All while a nightmare from the black water below waited. And before the boat hit the rocks.
Nearly across the band of rocks.
Another four carefully placed steps would do it.
Her right boot landed exactly where she intended. A flat plane of rock that was large enough to find purchase.
The rock shifted underfoot.
It rolled, yanking her boot to the left, sending her snatching for balance to the right. She keeled over and slammed headfirst into a boulder.
The impact sent an electric pain echoing down to her toes and fingertips.
Stunned.
Blinking hard trying to clear the fog.
Fighting to keep the dim edges surrounding her vision from advancing further toward the center.
A wave slammed into the rocks, lifting her up, floating, and then dropped onto the rocks again.
Her spine hit and she gasped in agony.
Ice cold seawater poured down her throat.
Emily knew this could be it, but she wasn’t going to die without a fight. She paddled her arms wildly like a child learning to swim, fighting to get her feet under her before the next wave rolled in.
A crashing sound directly behind her turned her blood to ice.
The shark was there, coming to claim her.
She shifted around and saw that it was the boat, almost within arm’s reach.
The side slammed into the rocks again as another wave rolled in.
She launched herself toward it and got a hold on the side. After a couple of tries, she managed to wriggle up and over only to spill onto the back deck.
A wave swept through and the stern crashed onto the rocks tossing her briefly into the air before coming down hard again.
She scrambled to her feet and dashed toward the door to the pilot’s cabin. She threw open the door and held onto the frame to keep from being thrown b
y another wave that tossed the boat onto the rocks.
She found the wheel and the ignition and throttle next to it. Not wasting precious seconds to investigate further, she hurried over and twisted the key to the right. She jammed the button down and a the engines grumbled from somewhere below.
The warbling sputtered a few times and then caught, roaring to life.
Another wave lifted and dropped the boat onto the rocks. A terrible splitting sound shook the hull.
She slammed the throttle forward and clung to the wheel as the boat lurched forward. She steered to the right, into the oncoming waves, slicing through them with ease.
Another minute and she made it beyond the break and out into the gentle waves flowing along the surface.
Emily glanced out the side windows and back windows.
The island shrank as she continued on.
Taking her bearings from where the explosion had occurred the night before, she steered to the left and saw the compass showed that it was a southerly direction.
She scanned the gauges and noted with unbridled gratitude that the fuel dial showed a nearly full tank.
Who knew how much capacity this thing had, but it looked like the type designed to go fishing for days. Like some of the smaller boats on those reality TV shows with the captains that clearly did hard drugs and whose lives reflected the harshness of their environment.
She was about to allow herself a small smile when she noticed something odd.
The far horizon of the ocean wasn’t flat like it should’ve been. It was canted over a little.
Rather, she realized, the boat was.
She pulled back on the throttle and boat listed further. There was a problem.
The nascent smile hardened into a frown. She should’ve known better. Something was always going to go wrong.
It was just a matter of time.
Emily exited the cabin and followed the lean of the boat to the aft deck. She crossed it to the far side which hung noticeably lower in the water. She leaned out over the side and gasped.
The boat hadn’t escaped its encounter with the rocks without a scratch. A scratch would’ve been no problem.
She would’ve welcomed a scratch any day.
