Dispersion: Book Two of the Recursion Event Saga

by Brian J. Walton

  “Who?”

  “From the film. One of those government guys that the other Jane was working with, or—oh hell, do you think he’s one of those guys from the future?”

  Vance grabs my arm and I realize I’ve been pacing, making fast circles around the small kitchen.

  “Are you sure?”

  “You can see my car. The asshole smashed the window in and pulled me out of it, Vance. Like I was a toy doll.”

  “But you’re sure that he mentioned Jane?”

  “Yes. And he thought I was Gardner for some reason.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “I know. I’ve never been mistaken for Gardner in my life.”

  “What did he say? Exactly?”

  “That if he ever saw me with Jane again, he would kill me.”

  “Jesus… Did he say anything else?”

  “Yeah, he called her Molly.”

  “Molly? Why would he do that?”

  “Vance, do you think she’s lying to us about her name?”

  Vance furrows his brow in thought. “She’s told us everything else. Why would she lie about that?”

  “Maybe she’s hiding something,” I say. “Maybe, if we found out who she really is, we would learn something that would change everything.”

  Vance turns, now pacing the kitchen himself. “No, that’s crazy. What we need to do right now is figure out a plan. First, we need to get the others. And, Ellis, we need to do that regression therapy as soon as possible. We need to get the upper hand on these assholes and you’re our best hope.”

  “Vance, these guys are fucking serious!”

  Vance stops, turning back on me. “That’s why we have to do something. Do you really believe that the U.S. Government can be trusted with a power like this? Do you really the government, the same one that got us into this endless fucking war, to have the ability to travel through time?”

  I stare at him a moment, then quickly shake my head.

  “ Somebody’s got to bring them down.”

  “And how are we going to do that?”

  Vance opens his mouth, then closes it again.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “Jane has a plan,” he says, his voice quiet. “It’s best if she tells you.”

  I sigh in frustration. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Jane has to tell me. You know, I’m starting to get sick of all this secrecy.”

  “Ellis, we’re past that point. I’m not trying to be secretive. It’s Jane, man. I don’t understand half the stuff she’s talking about. You saw the film. How would you explain that to, I don’t know, Jim? How would you do it?”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “And you already know the part of the plan that concerns you. You need to help us locate the ISD’s LA Station. Have you thought more about what we talked about last night.”

  I lean back against the kitchen counter. “Yes, Aleisha can do her thing.”

  “What about your parents? Do you think you can get an address from them?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t spoken to my dad in months.”

  Vance looks at me. “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated,” I say.

  “Figure out something to say to him. You’re a writer, after all.” Vance checks his watch. “We’ve got a meal drop for Jane at noon. Aleisha and Quincy should be there. We can do your first session this afternoon. But you still need to get that address.”

  Vance claps me on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s figure out what you’ve got buried in that skull of yours.”

  Vance locks the door to the poorhouse and we make our way around the house toward the street.

  “By the way, Jim called me last night.” Vance says, glancing at me as we walk. “He said you got drunk and trashed the place.”

  I shake my head. “I was only a little drunk.”

  “Come on. What was it then?”

  I look up at the ceiling. “Writer’s block.”

  “He said he kicked you out. Where did you sleep last night?”

  I hesitate. “My car.”

  Vance shakes his head. “Not another word. You can stay here.”

  “It’s not your place,” I say.

  Vance runs a hand through dark, greasy hair. “Longdale hasn’t stepped foot in here in weeks. Besides, you and me stick together”

  We round the side of the house and the street comes into view.

  “I can drive.” I say. “But as I mentioned, the windshield is broken.”

  “Just the windshield?” Vance asks.

  It takes a moment to register what is going on. Bob Carr’s two goons are leaning against their black Lincoln Continental, parked just behind my own car. The hood of my car is up and there are several long snake-like objects strewn on the lawn in front of it. Fan belts, by the look of them.

  Vance gives me a nudge. “Who are they?”

  I feel a knot of frustration growing in my chest. “Remember those mafia guys I said we didn’t have to worry about?”

  “Yeah? Do we have to worry about them?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say.

  I step in front of Vance, angling for the two goons in front of my car. As I get closer, I notice that a puddle of liquid is slowly spreading across the pavement. I can smell it now. Gas. I force a fake smile.

  “Nice to see you guys.”

  The big one, Carl, turns to me and grins.

  “Likewise.” He gestures at the car. “Terrible look. If you need to go somewhere we could give you a ride.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “You’re happy to be of assistance. Before you ask, the script is coming along just fine. But what the hell is wrong with my car?”

  Terry folds his arms across his chest. “Your gas line has been cut, and you’re missing a few belts. I really hope you don’t have plans because I don’t think you’re going anywhere soon.”

  Vance joins, staring at the two goons like they’ve gone insane.

  Carl ignores him. “But you wouldn’t have plans, right? Because, as we all know, you’ve got too much writing to do.”

  “Thanks for the offer guys, but I can get a ride with my friend.”

  Vance puts an arm in front of me. “No, Ellis. This isn’t right.”

  He steps forward. “What the hell did you? Did you do this to my friend’s car?”

  “Vance, quit it,” I hiss.

  “No, do these guys think they can really just get away with this?”

  “Get away with what?” Terry asks, spreading his arms wide.

  “Cutting his gas line and fan belts, that’s what!”

  I take his arm, tugging him backwards, but Vance doesn’t budge. “It’s not worth it, let’s just go!”

  Vance shoves me aside and advances on the two goons. Carl blinks at him for a moment in surprise, then pushes away from the car and shuffles up to Vance.

  “What the problem here, fella?” Carl asks, his high pitched voice coming out in a wheezy whisper.

  “You’re going to help fix my friend’s car.”

  Carl squints down at him. “I assure you would if I had any part in the matter.”

  I notice Terry slowing stepping behind Vance.

  Vance clenches a fist. “I want names from both of you. Right now.”

  Terry gives Vance a tap on the shoulder. He grins as Vance turns around and says in his gravelly whisper, “I’m Mickey.”

  “And I’m Mouse,” Carl squeaks out, clenching his own fist and raising it.

  “And we’re leaving,” I say as I lunge in, grabbing Vance around the shoulder and pulling him to the side. “Get your bike,” I hiss.

  “Ellis, what the hell is going on here?”

  I push him forward toward his motorcycle. “You’re getting us out of here. Come on!”

  Vance climbs onto his and I jump on the back. He puts his helmet on and starts the bike.

  Carl waves as we drive past them and onto the street. “Be seeing you!”

  Vance turns his head, shouting back to me. “What just
happened back there?”

  I blink against the wind, feeling dazed.

  “It’s that damn screenplay, I’m late on the draft.”

  “So they send the mafia?”

  “Bob Carr does!”

  “Jesus Christ, Ellis! We’ve got government killers after us. We don’t need the mafia as well!”

  “You don’t think I know that?” I mutter, too quietly for Vance to hear.

  I turn back to see the house, my car, and Bob Carr’s mafia goons as they fade into the distance.

  Vance knocks twice on the door, waits a moment, and then knocks three more times. He glances over at me as we wait for the storage room to be opened.

  “What do they do if a Janitor comes looking for an old table?” I ask.

  “They go hide in the tunnel,” Vance says.

  The door opens and Aleisha waves us in. “We were just having lunch,” she says.

  Quincy and Jane are seated around the lab table. There are fries and the remnants of hamburgers in front of them.

  “We need to talk,” Vance says, brushing past Aleisha and stepping inside the room. Aleisha shuts the door as Jane and Quincy both turn toward us.

  “About what?” Jane asks.

  “About Vic,” I say.

  Jane sits forward in her chair.

  “What about Vic?” she asks, her voice quiet.

  We cross the room, stopping in front of the lab table. I share a glance with Vance. He takes a breath. “He, um, visited Ellis. He knows Ellis is with us. He knows that we meet here.”

  “Did he say anything?” Jane asks.

  I shrug. “He told me never to see you again or he would, you know, kill me.” I take in a breath. “So I must be either really stupid or certifiably insane because… here I am.”

  “Well, thank you,” Jane says, turning toward me. “I need you here. So does this mean you’ve decided to help?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I’ll do the therapy thing and I’ll get that address from my dad. But first, I have some questions about you and this Vic guy.”

  “Ellis,” Vance says, quietly.

  “It’s okay,” Jane says. She turns back to me. “What questions?”

  “Just so I can get this straight, this guy Vic rescued you, then stayed with you for a few years in Brazil until you made your way up here. But he’s ISD. You say the ISD is the enemy, but it sounds a lot like he’s trying to protect you. So which is it? And while we’re at it, how the hell do you expect to take down this enormously powerful government entity in the first place?”

  “The ISD is not my friend, and Vic made his choice a long time ago.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “It means that he and I don’t see eye to eye, and we haven’t for a while.”

  “And why didn’t you tell us your name was Molly?” I ask.

  “Ellis, what are you talking about?” Aleisha asks.

  Jane looks at Aleisha, then turns to me. “Did he tell you that?”

  Quincy pushes his chair back. “Have you been lying to us?”

  I nod at Jane. “Yeah, he told me that.”

  She stands up suddenly and turns away from the group. “She was named Molly, but…” Jane trails off, “But I didn’t change my name to keep anything from you. I changed my name because she and I are not the same person. I’ve already had years of life that she never did. Just because her memories have invaded my head doesn’t meant I owe her anything.”

  “Have you been lying about anything else?”

  “Jesus, Ellis. She’s allowed to use a fake name?” Aleisha moves toward Jane and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, but Jane twists away.

  She turns back to us, holding up her hands. “You don’t understand what it’s like having all of this—this shit in my head. I have memories of the future. Do you get that? Memories! Of the future! And, to make things even more confusing, as we get closer to that future, my memories change. So believe me when I say that I’m doing the best I can here! My name isn’t Jane. My name isn’t even Molly. Because he—” Jane looks away. “He stole that life away from me.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to go home,” I say.

  “Dammit, Ellis! I don’t even know what home is. It’s not now. It’s not Paris in the fifties. It’s not Minnesota in the eighties, or New York in the nineties.”

  “New York?” I ask. “Are those... her memories?”

  Jane nods.

  “What else do you remember?

  “We don’t have to do this now,” Aleisha says.

  “You all have heard this,” I say. “I need to know some of it too.” I look back at Jane. “What else?”

  “My husband.”

  “Do you have good memories of him?” I ask.

  “I remember him… dying.”

  “Oh.”

  She shrugs, as if to apologize. “It’s okay. I remember other things about him. That he’s funny. Smart. He really loved me, I know that much. He didn’t deserve me. Or her, I should say. Christ, it’s weird talking about someone from the future that I haven’t even met yet.”

  Jane reaches a hand to her face and I realize that she’s crying. Aleisha grabs a napkin and hands it to her. She moves back to the table, shooting me a scathing look. “I said, we don’t have to do this now.”

  “My life was just threatened,” I say.

  “Why?” Quincy asks.

  I turn to him in surprise. “What do you mean, why?”

  “No one else here was threatened by Jane’s creepy ISD buddy from the future. So why you?”

  Vance furrows his brow. “That’s a good question.”

  “If I had to guess,” Jane says, turning back. “It’s because I’m right, and you’re the key to helping us find the ISD’s Los Angeles Station. Vic must know that as well.”

  “And if I’m going to be all in on this, then I need to know exactly what you’re planning.”

  Jane folds the napkin and tucks it into her pocket. “I’ve been dreaming of her.” Her voice is a whisper and I have to step forward to hear her.

  “Her?” I ask. “You mean… Molly?”

  “Yes,” Jane says. “And in my dreams, the man who started this all—Phaedrus—he’s at the Los Angeles Station on that night, and I—well, Molly—she visits him. But the dream, it changes. In one version of the dream, Molly visits him and afterward he escapes. A guard just walks him out of there. But in another version, I’m there. I’ve been captured. Someone is leading me in, and I see her. And she sees me. And that’s when we both know that it’s all over.

  I look around at the others. They’ve heard this before, and their faces are somber. They have the look of people going to a funeral. Or, worse, they have the look of true believers.

  “In this second dream,” Jane continues, “After I see her, there’s this awful noise. The lights in the Station begin to flash and everything starts to shake. The walls and ceiling begin to crumble. The hallway I’m in tears apart and dirt pours in. It’s like we’re underground and the earth is just swallowing us up. And then it’s over. I wake up. The dream ends.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “What happens in your dream?”

  “It’s a Recursion Event,” Jane says. “Being too close to yourself causes the universe to do react. Sometimes violently. It’s how I ended up in this time. If I can find the LA Station by Sunday, I can cause a Recursion Event that will kill Phaedrus and will prevent me from ever being stolen from my home.”

  “And bring a real blow to the ISD,” Vance adds.

  “This is your plan?” I ask, feeling incredulous. “That’s a suicide mission.”

  Jane shakes her head. “Not for me, it isn’t. And no one has to go except me. I’m asking for your help to get there. Nothing more.”

  Jane turns to me. “Will you help me?”

  I glance at Aleisha, then look back at the large tank sitting in the corner of the room. “Do I have to get in there?”

  Forty-five minutes later and the
acid is kicking in. I am naked, except for my underwear, floating in a chamber of warm salt water. Above me is a steel door. It’s open. Through it, I can see Vance and the others as they hurry around the lab. Quincy adjusts a microphone on the inside of the tank while Vance sets up the 16mm film camera, just above where the window in the tank’s door will be.

  I hear a loud burst of static from a speaker inside of the tank. Then Aleisha’s voice booms from the speaker. “The chamber is soundproofed, but there’s a microphone inside of it that will allow us to hear everything you say, while still cutting out all the outside sound.”

  “It’s too loud!” I yell.

  Aleisha looks over at someone I can’t see. Is it Jane? I don’t remember. “He’ll level out soon, then we can start.”

  Jane appears in my field of vision. She floats toward me. Her olive skin has a shifting pattern to it, like ocean waves.

  “You’re flying,” I say.

  Jane leans in over the opening. “No, you are. That’s the LSD talking. It’s going to help you access your subconscious mind.” Jane’s voice echoes like falling boulders around the chamber. “The sensory deprivation chamber will cut down on the hallucinatory effects and help you focus.”

  I nod. “Focus, focus. I need to focus.”

  “That’s right,” Jane says. “I need you to focus in order to remember everything that you can.”

  “Why is it so important to you?” I only whisper, but my voice sounds as loud as Niagara

  She leans in closer. “Do you want to hear a secret?”

  I nod.

  Jane’s voice is barely a whisper. “I want to go home.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I thought you said that was impossible.”

  Aleisha walks over to the chamber and Jane straightens, moving to let Aleisha through.

  “I am going to close the door now,” Aleisha says.

  I nod. Aleisha steps back and reaches for the hatch. There’s a loud creak, a thunderous clang, and darkness embraces me.

  Ellis, can you hear me?

  Yes, I can hear you.

  Good, now I want you to float and relax. Close your eyes, take a breath, and relax.

  It’s dark in here.

  It’s okay. Focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. Focus on my voice and breathe. Are you relaxed, Ellis?