The four faces staring back at me appeared mildly confident while a little in awe. There’s no denying the keen enthusiasm and interest in time travel of anyone studying to become a Sentinel. It’s a vocation, not just a job. Like any vocation, novices like to hear what drove me to the League of Guardians. Did I feel mysteriously drawn, or was it simply a career decision? I suppose it was a bit of both. Saving the Universe while exploring the past offers a worthy goal and plenty of adventure.
After Joan concluded the introductions, I moved forward. Their data revealed that only one lived on Earth. Two were from Mars and one from Ganymede, the largest of Jupiter’s moons. Their holographic images were perfect representations that provided effortless interaction. If they attained Sentinel status, all would be based on Earth.
“Welcome. I’m Sentinel Major Brodie Tyrell. Before we begin, I am obliged to remind you that anything you learn here today cannot be passed on to a friend, relative, or stranger. To do so will be considered an act of treason and the penalty for that is life imprisonment on one of the penal colonies.”
I waited for a response, got none, and continued on. “That’s the nasty bit over with. Please introduce yourselves to each other before we continue. Include where you’re currently living.”
They did so quickly and quieted down within a minute.
When ready, I began. “Many assumptions about time travel in the early twenty-first century have been proven wrong, starting with our ability to materialize in the past. Going back in time turns us into ghosts, apparitions. We didn’t exist then, and for that reason, the Natural Order of the Universe does not permit our physical presence. What it does allow is our metaphysical presence—our indestructible energy to travel back. This can manifest itself into our original human form, but transparently, and most often without much detail, such as features. We usually appear as dark silhouettes with gray outlines.
“Using this kind of materialization to achieve our mission is a last resort. I’ve used it to frighten off the inquisitive. Our two most powerful capabilities are through our interaction with people of the period by making contact using telepathy or telekinesis. However, we’re regularly mistaken for poltergeists or rogue spirits and even the Devil. I’ve been exorcised at least two dozen times and still none the worse for it.”
No one laughed. All wore serious expressions.
“By telepathically communicating with people in positions of authority, we generate adjustments to anomalies, so they’re effectively corrected. Using telepathy, we sow seeds of ideas. Unwitting participants, when awake, sense it like a whisper or a sudden bright idea. At night, it’s a dream. They think it was their own idea, and that’s important. The telekinesis aspects are tougher and demand much more training before perfected. However, once operational, they really are useful and fun. Moving inanimate objects around and switching on electrical devices as a way of indicating what we need is like leading a detective with clues.”
Still no reaction.
“Novices also find it tough getting their heads around the fact that, before the twenty-seventh-century, people inhabited the land rather than the sea and air. Today, landers number just a third of the population, with their primary purposes being agriculture for food production, transportation, or the maintenance of wildlife.”
“Are novices ever allowed to complete their training sooner than the standard ten years?” Novice Blundell, a fifteen-year-old youth with a mop of fair hair and face full of freckles, asked.
His family was the only one with influence in government. His mother was a personal assistant to one of the Cabinet Leaders. However, that was not the reason for his selection. His primary skill set in ancient languages could prove highly valuable since, from 2840, only two languages remained in use—Chinese and English.
The selection of each novice had been my responsibility, and I needed them for specific tasks. Blundell had ticked all the right boxes. I simply couldn’t ignore him, even though my Commander considered him politically dangerous. Over the past year, we had noticed the leadership was growing less than willing to share their opinion about universal expansion. After the war with the Haze began, even more so. We suspected that divisions within the leadership were forming for reasons as yet unknown.
“The standard ten years is what it is for a reason. Until a quicker alternative to develop telepathy and telekinesis is made available, we’re stuck with this long period of training. You can’t take short cuts.”
He looked disappointed. “I’ve heard that Andromedins achieve graduation in nine years.”
“There was one,” I corrected. “Stavo Boreax.”
“How did he manage to shortcut it by a year?” Novice Kay, the eldest youth by a matter of months, asked.
Originally from Egypt, Kay’s family had moved to Mars before he was born, although it was less obvious than with some. His swarthy skin retained its soft brown texture, unlike whiter-skinned humans who developed an orange tinge from frequent contact with the Martian soil. Kay’s parents were miners based in the city of Dollfus five miles from an iridium mine. His forte was a keen scholarly interest in old Earth religions; something less relevant to humans today since most held no beliefs other than in the Natural Order (NO) followed by the universe. However, his knowledge would prove highly beneficial when we began exploration to identify how humanity began in this small corner of the universe.
I shrugged and replied flatly, “No idea.” I lied because the truth was classified. Boreax had been the first human to test a new software cell intended to enhance his telepathic and telekinetic abilities specifically for time travel. If successful, Sentinel training could be dramatically reduced. Since his loss, no other human tests had been carried out.
“Aren’t you even curious?” Novice Brown asked, a youthful-faced girl with red hair who looked much younger than she was.
She was another Martian, confirmed by her orange skin. Her family members were freight operators carrying whatever the Martian mines produced to the outer worlds in our solar system. Although more than a little spoiled, her ability to rely on instinct to make challenging decisions had proved astounding under examination. She was either the luckiest girl in the universe or possessed an innate ability to identify her best options using instinct alone.
“I might’ve been had he survived. He died on his first mission,” I said.
The entire class appeared stunned by the news. The loss of a Sentinel had never been made public, little about us ever is.
Brown was the first to find her voice. “How can we be killed if our energies are indestructible?”
“It happens when an energy gets trapped in the past,” I explained. “Our enemies, such as the Haze, somehow sever the thread between our energy in the past and our human bodies in the present. Doing so produces two effects that we are currently studying. With Boreax, his heart stopped and refused to be restarted. The other effect is that our human body remains brain dead, unable to reconnect with its thread. We can keep them alive, but they’re no more than vegetables.”
“How’s that possible?” Kay asked, genuinely concerned.
This was not public knowledge for good reason. The leadership did not want to create panic, and the idea that it was possible to murder human hosts in such a way might generate enough public disquiet for time travel to be halted—a disaster for all.
“The Haze have so far defied our science,” I admitted. “They’re from another universe and are quite unlike any species found here. As you’re aware, the primary species in our universe is humanoid. The main physical differences between those on different worlds relate to size, features, skin color, texture, vision, skull shape, and lifespan. Other creatures may differ in appearance, but all are organic. However, because we’re the primary species, we expect the basic biped form to be consistent no matter the world or universe. That’s why the Haze have taken us completely by surprise ... they’re totally unlike any living creatures we’ve ever encountered.”
“
What are the Haze?” Brown asked.
It was a good question and, apart from a few brief encounters in which I needed to kill them, I really had no idea. “They’re best described as Gasiform creatures, like small clouds in the sky, except they can vary in color and size. We’ve detected blue, green, yellow, and orange. We gave them the name because they’re unwilling to tell us about themselves.”
“How do we talk to clouds?” Brown asked.
“I wish I knew,” I said. “Their type of communication remains unknown. All we really know about them is that they’re highly aggressive and refuse any attempt at negotiation. Additionally, they’re responsible for attacking our timeline as a way of expanding our universe to destruction. There’s no doubt they’re intent on our extermination.”
“Surely you can’t be certain about that if we’re not communicating with them?” Kay said. “We must focus on overcoming the communications block with them if we’re going to make progress toward a peaceful solution.”
Human history had demonstrated innumerable times that negotiation was the best course of action to avoid violent confrontation. It was therefore understandable that each novice would likely share Kay’s opinion.
“Focusing on staying alive is predominant right now,” I reminded him. “You are not negotiators; you’re soldiers. Your job is to prevent the overexpansion of the universe created by our enemies. Until the politicians say otherwise, you will kill enemies whenever or wherever you encounter them. Do any of you disagree or not understand your role?”
Silence.
“Where are they from?” Norse asked.
She was a pretty black girl from Ganymede. Her family members were pioneers—tough, resilient, and determined. Of the four novices, she would likely prove the most rebellious. Still, if I could channel her natural attributes, she could prove to be a leader. Her presence had been sealed by a natural expertise in archaeology. At a young age, she had proved her ability to recognize ancient artifacts, even alien ones. At age eleven, she discovered remnants from an alien culture initially ignored by learned scholars. Her persistence and determination to prove herself right brought her praise after she sent artifacts to Earth’s Alien Science Museum, where they were identified as manufactured utensils. Ganymede had indeed witnessed some form of alien civilization now long gone.
“They enter our universe through black holes. Our scientists believe their gaseous form allows them, unlike us, to move freely through them. Any form of physical entity, be it machine or organic, is crushed. Hence, we’re unable to trace where the Haze originate. A defense grid armed with electric pulse cannons surrounds all black holes throughout the Humanoid Universe.”
“Do we know why they want to destroy us?” Brown asked.
“No, but there’s no doubt they do. As I’ve already said, expanding our universe to extinction is the way they’re trying to do it.”
“Can you explain how that works?” Blundell asked.
“As you’re aware, our universe is continuing to expand, and only in the last hundred years, we were unconcerned, believing it was a natural occurrence. However, scientists have come to realize that a relationship exists between expansion and what we’re calling Time-Patterns. When a Time-Pattern is formed, the universe must accommodate it and expands to do so. This type of expansion is unnatural, and for that reason, its growth places pressure on the perimeter of the universe, weakening its entire structure.”
“Exactly what is a Time-Pattern?” Blundell asked again.
“For hundreds of years, humans believed that it was possible to change an original timeline by traveling back and taking action to alter it. For example, stopping someone in the past from being born and by doing so, changing the original timeline. We were wrong. Meddling with the past has no effect on the original timeline.”
“It doesn’t?” Brown said.
“When an artificial change in the past occurs, a Time-Pattern is created at the exact moment. However, instead of changing the original outcome, the generation of a new timeline stream deviates from the original to add an alternative outcome. The original timeline and outcome continue unchanged. They run in parallel. Original timelines are unchangeable. However, the universe still needs to contend with adding an artificial timeline, the new Time-Pattern. To do so, it absorbs the new Time Pattern at a different speed and provides its existence without damaging the original version. The expansion is triggered once the process is complete.”
“So, what you’re saying is that there are two identical timelines with different outcomes? It’s like a sliding doors concept. Step through or hold back?”
“Yes, but it gets more complicated after multiple Time-Patterns are created, expanding the universe toward its breaking point, which is where we’re currently at.”
“Is it possible to travel into a black hole using energy alone as we do in time travel?” Norse asked. She had been listening quietly, but her eyes were busy looking right and left at classmates as if wondering whether she dare speak out.
“It hasn’t been attempted, but it’s a possibility that we recognize.”
“Does that mean we’ll attempt it?” she asked. “If so, when?”
“It means that we’ll have to wait until our leaders decide we need to make the attempt. Until then, we defend the universe as we have been doing.”
“We seem to be missing an opportunity to take this war to the Haze themselves. That’s where we should be fighting instead of in our own back garden,” Norse said.
I shared her sentiment, but giving in to emotional responses was something we all needed to avoid. A cool head was required to battle our enemies. Anything else would only assist them by creating division. “We follow our leadership because only they have a full picture of all that is happening. There are issues and problems that you will be told about that have an impact on our leadership’s responses. If it’s considered possible, I’m sure they’ll order us to travel through a black hole to the Haze universe.”
“You place great store in our leadership being able to recognize when the time is right,” Norse said, her dissent possibly mimicking that of her parents and others on Ganymede, who often believed themselves forgotten by the leadership.
“I’ve learned to accept that they’re trustworthy. It would be useful if you’ll also accept their guidance without making any attempt at undermining them.”
“But you agree with me that we should be taking this war to the Haze universe?” she persisted. She clearly liked to make her point.
“Are you testing Brodie’s loyalty?” Joan interrupted, her tone hostile. She could be very protective of me.
“Not at all, Joan,” she replied, staring at the holographic figure of Scarlet Johansson. “I merely wish to know if he’s as frustrated as I believe him to be by delays to a course of action that should already have been attempted.”
“You’re angry, Norse. Is that because you feel ignored by the leadership as do many others on Ganymede?” Joan asked.
“Enough,” I said. “Norse, we’re soldiers. We follow orders and leave the big plans and strategies to our leaders. That’s the way it works. If you’re having a problem with that, then you should leave now.”
She stared straight back at me, not with defiance or contempt, something else. “I understand how a hierarchy works, Brodie. I just wanted your opinion about whether I could trust my life to it. Seems I can.”
“I’m not sure I like her,” Joan said.
“You don’t have to like me, Joan. I’m here to be a Sentinel. Help me achieve that, and we’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m sure I don’t like her!” Joan corrected, never one to mince words.
“How do we recognize the Haze when we time travel? Aren’t they invisible like us?” Brown asked, dragging our attention away from the other girl.
“From personal experience, it’s easy. They’re the ones attempting to drive our ancestors insane with hauntings and possession. If you pick up on a bogeyman being present during
time travel or a priest being brought in for an exorcism, you can be sure that a Haze is behind it. Look around for a darker patch of air, and it’ll be them. There are other ways too, but we’ll come to those soon enough.”
“Can we destroy them?” Brown asked.
“Yes, they’re not invulnerable, but it’s not always easy. You must get inside them and basically think them to death. We found that, once inside, if we concentrate on generating heat, it seems we dry them out. They’re vapor of unknown composition.”
“Have you killed any?”
“Several.”
“Are there any side effects when we return from the past?”
Brown had been identified as suffering from agliophobia. Her fear of pain was irrational compared to normal people, and would no doubt prove a challenge, although it didn’t prohibit her entry to the Sentinels. The chances of her failure as a result of agliophobia were considered acceptable.
“Some have suffered bouts of nausea, a few others, headaches, but apart from that, nothing long-term or terminal.”
“Is there any idea how we get trapped in the past?” she asked.
“That’s a work in progress, but there’s a theory that when we make an attack by getting inside one, other Haze join and merge with our intended victim to create a gas so thick we can’t escape. They then somehow disconnect our energy thread to the present, and our human body dies.” I checked the time and smiled. “Lunch. Go get something to eat, and I’ll meet you back here in an hour. We’ll be following a recording in this suite that displays my last mission. I’ll also be telling you about our other, more major problem. See you in one hour.”
NO ONE WAS LATE AS the hologram threw up an image of the mission I chose to show the class. I had been scheduled for my next mission at the Assignment of Correction located at the League of Guardians Orbital Palace (LGOP). The 250-mile flight from the LG base located in Northern Ireland to the orbital palace usually took five minutes, but a minor problem with my transport’s autopilot meant that I had to fly myself, which I hadn’t done in a while. Some claim it’s the same as riding a bike; once mastered, you never forget. To be honest, it’s a little more complicated than that, especially if you hope to survive. Being careful to avoid damaging my transport or the base took time; hence, I arrived at my destination later than expected.
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