“Don't worry about having something to do. The real fun begins in the morning. For now, take a shower, enjoy your dinner, and check out the library a few levels down. Try to have some fun, as strange as it all sounds. You'll hear from me soon enough.”
Roger turned from Val and opened the door. He exited a moment later and closed the door quietly. Val hopped off the bed and looked around her room more. She realized Roger was kidding about acquiring clothes from the commissary because as she looked in the drawers of her new dresser, she found, neatly folded, all of her clothes from home – from undergarments to formal wear. Wow! she thought. He must have known I'd say yes.
Content that not all of her old life had been abandoned, Val proceeded to the bathroom and filled the tub for a bath. Much like the dresser, the tub was arranged just as she had it decorated at home, with all of her scented candles and bath supplies where she expected to find them. After removing her clothes, Val slid under the warm water and closed her eyes. Home.
James looked down at his cup of coffee, which he had barely sipped, and said nothing. The man who just introduced himself as John Archer had taken a seat at his table and listened as James just finished telling him of the recent events. He was still rattled by the thought that someone caused this to his wife intentionally, but Archer claimed he could help with her condition.
“James, what I am about to tell you very few people know. In fact, you are one of only two Americans on United States soil who have ever heard these words. I am head of a project conducted by an organization that is about to go on a remarkable expedition. When I worked for the government, I discovered proof that travel through time was possible.”
I knew that! James thought to himself.
“Now, I know you'll have a hard time believing this but I'm going to have to cut to the chase since time is short. The group I am putting together is going to do just what I was able to prove: travel through time. A vessel is waiting in a secure location for one hundred experts from all over the world and they are ready to leave. The trouble is I only have ninety-nine people, Mr. Grant.”
James finally stirred a little and looked up.
“Do you see why I am here now, James?”
“Why?”
Archer jumped a bit in his chair, as he did not expect James to say anything until he was through. “Well, I am here to…”
“No,” James interrupted, “why are you traveling through time?”
Archer smiled. “You’re a wise man for asking. But first, may I ask you with what affliction your wife suffered from?”
“Cancer,” James said plainly.
“I see,” Archer said. “I know this may not be of much comfort now, James, but millions of good people like you have been pained by the effects of this disease. The purpose of the mission is to rid the world of all such pain.
“You see, the main reason we are going on such a journey is to jump-start the world's civilizations. Isn't it interesting that there have been no major breakthroughs or cures for major diseases in over fifty years? What if you were able to go deep into the future and find the cures to all the world's plagues? And what if you could bring them back to our time? Think of the lives we could save.”
“You can't be serious,” James said, cutting Archer off. “What about potential paradoxes you could create in the stream of time?”
“We have already addressed such concerns,” Archer continued. “The very first people who were brought on board were a team of ethicists to debate precisely what you speak of. Believe me, James, we wouldn’t engage in such a dangerous ambition unless the benefits outweighed the risks.”
“And why are you telling me any of this? I run a charity for lost children. What's a philanthropist and soon-to-be widower going to add to your experiment?”
Archer sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “We are looking for people who have an emotional investment in what we are doing. The expedition is not just engineers and doctors. We have artists, writers, and poets and yes, we need philanthropists. You see, the charity industry is regulated heavily by the government, right?” He went on without waiting for a reply. “Isn’t it possible that more sensible laws may exist in the distant future? What if you could lobby for those same laws, but in our time? Couldn’t your organization then do more good things? Think of the advances your donations could contribute to if your industry were regulated more fairly.”
James nodded and finally took a drink from his cup, nearly chugging the now-cooled liquid. He knew to proceed delicately. This man, Archer, almost certainly didn’t know of his previous travels in time, and he couldn’t give any indication of reluctance or excitement. Either way, he might rouse suspicion. “So let me see if I get this straight: You want me to travel in time with you to somehow acquire medical technology that will cure the disease that is killing me wife. What happens when we get back? I get a paycheck and go back to life and watch her die? No, I don't think so. I'll only help you on one condition.”
Archer smiled widely. “Name it.”
“I'll come with you and do whatever you ask, if you agree to return to the past - before my wife dies.”
“A little selfish, isn't it?”
“I admit it is, but if you knew just how special she was, you'd understand why I couldn't live without her.”
“How refreshing it is for someone to demand something other than more money! Then I guess we have an agreement.”
A few months before he ever met James Grant, John Archer sat alone at his desk late at night and looked over the report on the time machine's instrumentation. It had only been a couple of months since arriving here and Roger had recently offered him the chance to interview some of the candidates for the mission. Only hours earlier, Archer alerted Roger that his work on the machine was complete. Further, the machine could be retrofitted to the vessel for the expedition as soon as he wanted. Roger was ecstatic and had dozens of question, all of which Archer answered confidently. The only reservation Archer had was a private one, which he feared to say aloud. No matter, since Roger was off to examine another candidate – a young army widow.
In the time that he worked aboard the base, Archer overheard many late-night crewmembers discuss the future with a pessimism he was unaccustomed to hearing. Often, discussions turned philosophical, with nearly all of his assistants concluding that humankind would never put Archer's machine to good use. Curious of their fears, he decided to engage the time machine for the first time. While he often used pieces of fruit to verify the machine worked in the laboratory, tonight he wanted to use it alone and learn for himself if the crew was right – if humankind would ever make it out of its technological adolescence.
Archer activated the machine and disabled the computer from logging the machine's activity, a feature he designed to make sure it was only used with sufficient authorization first. Since he considered it still to be in the testing phase, he felt no need to report exactly where he was going. He programmed the machine's target date to one thousand years in the future, the geographical coordinates somewhere in the heart of New York City. He stepped inside and, a moment later, disappeared in a flash of blue light.
Archer stood in silence, unsure that he went anywhere at first. Until he opened his eyes and looked around. There was not a single person in sight. There were no animals. No buildings stood where he imagined they would. Instead of skyscrapers, there were mounds of grass all around, trees growing atop them. The only remnants of civilization were the occasional stainless steel objects that littered the wasteland. He dared not move as the time machine in the past was programmed to transport him back in a few moments.
With the exception of the wind, Archer did not hear a sound. The sight of his civilization in ruins shocked him. Finally, just moments before he disappeared, he found a sign of life: a lonely cockroach brushed past his foot. In a second flash of azure light, Archer returned home.
A few days after Val arrived, she was called by Roger for assistance. True to his advice,
Val spent most of her time reading books from the library, eating to her heart's content, and, despite the tough exterior she presented to Roger, she came to grip with her husband's death. Although he never mentioned grieving as something to keep her occupied, she saw how wise Roger was for giving her enough time to adjust. Finally, on the third day, she was ready to participate in her new mission.
“Are you well-rested?” Roger asked as she followed his directions to the strategy room.
“Yes,” she replied into the mic on her earpiece. She descended several decks lower to reach the communication hub of the rig. Adjacent to the control room was the strategy room, where Roger stood patiently waiting.
“Is everything to your liking so far?”
“It is, actually. The room is a bit quaint, but still cozy. In fact, I'm starting to like it more than that monstrous house I had before.”
“Most of us lived outside of our true means or necessity. It's been a welcome change for all of us coming here and living as a family. You'll find you learn to cope with differences better when you're a thousand miles from land.”
She laughed. “I'm not here to play den mother, am I?”
“Not at all. In fact, you'll meet a few of the other women later today. For now, I wanted to give you the grand tour of the strategy room. This is one of the few places that are restricted to the celibates. This is where we discuss plans and iron out problems that will inevitably arise.
“This is also the room that houses many of the security items we'll need after our mission succeeds.” Along the wall was a large cabinet that opened with the key Roger had around his neck. He reached inside and removed several large weapons. “These, for example, are some of the weapons we'll be using when we begin our campaign to secure the device we need. We won't have a need for them when it's time to repopulate so they'll be destroyed. We secured them last week while Archer was retrofitting the vessel for flight. As far as he knows, his machine has never been activated.”
“What do they do?” she asked as she reached for one of the weapons and studied it.
“The one you have there is particularly lethal. We lost a member of my security team to one of these things in the future. Fortunately, there was nothing left for anyone to identify him. That's what it does: vaporizes human beings. I'm sure glad the future is no less barbaric than the present, aren't you?” he asked sarcastically.
After examining the gun a moment longer, and scared to push any of its buttons, she laid it down on the table in front of them. Roger placed it inside the cabinet and locked the door.
“Roger, I hope you don't think I'm prying, but...” she began.
“My organization is an open book to you, Val. Ask whatever you'd like.”
“Well, you've mentioned the hundred civilians for the repopulation and the twenty or so celibates for governing, but what's to become of everyone else? The crew, for example.”
“I'm afraid that's where I've been a little deceitful. You see, the crew is here for a paycheck. True, they believe in the mission and believe they will contribute in the new society. However, when the time comes, they won't be coming with us. I want no one in the new world to be concerned with greed; we will all work to better each other and ourselves. Does that sound harsh to you?”
“No,” she said. “I suppose no more than the mission itself.”
“My wife and I used to lose sleep over this, Val. But there's no other way. There's no other solution short of divine intervention; and the present system cannot be fixed.”
“I understand. All I want is unity.”
He smiled warmly at her. “Good. Please, feel free to explore the rest of the ship. Decks labeled in blue are for Archer's use, though, so I hope you'll keep our arrangement for the time being.”
“Of course,” she said. “Please call me if you need anything at all.” With that, she left and returned to her room. Once there, she slipped into a bath and then to bed.
Deep in the heart of the New World Organization's floating home base was the Conference Room. In the center of that room was a perfectly round steel table. Around that table sat the twenty-one future leaders of humanity.
Roger sat quietly among the men and women he called his brothers and sisters. Many of them were people who were with him before Jennifer died, and some more recent acquaintances, like Val Ferguson, their youngest member. She was introduced to everyone here shortly after she arrived, and was well liked already.
“Well, friends,” Roger began as he passed a stack of booklets around the table, “the time has come to prepare for the next phase of our mission. Doctor Archer tells me the time machine is finished, but it will still be a little while until our vessel is completed. Still, I thought it a good idea to finalize our new constitution for when we return and begin to govern.
“The one thing that probably jumps out when you look at page one is the extensive moral requirements for our leaders. You already know of our celibacy – which, for the record – will not be enforced until we assume our place as rulers. This isn't to say I'm encouraging any wild parties, but if there's anything anyone needs to get out of their system, now's the time.”
The group smiled at each other as not a few of them shifted their weight out of discomfort – but not Val.
“The requirements are pretty straight-forward, and with the exception of sexual relations, we will expect the civilians to adhere to the same standards. Most of the items listed should be foregone conclusions – no murder, stealing, adultery, et cetera. One item that I have kept under wraps for some time is concerning the surprisingly small number of women among us. This was not by accident. It was Jennifer's original plan, and I've always agreed with her, that the three of you ladies will have the real power among us.”
Val looked up in surprise by the announcement. Despite her assumptions, the men at the table nodded in approval of Roger's suggestion. I never thought I'd see the day, she thought.
“We still have a lot to sort out, and I'll get an itinerary of the mission together for all of you. The next few weeks will be busy around here as I'll be going over many of the technical issues with Doctor Archer and getting the civilians motivated. Until now, they've been keeping busy in the recreation room, in the gymnasium, and to be perfectly frank, a few of them have begun their assignments as reproducers in earnest. No pregnancies to speak of, but not for any lack of trying on their part.”
The group chuckled nervously and shifted uncomfortably again. No wonder some of these people were chosen for celibates, Val thought. They're a bunch of prudes!
“Anyway,” Roger went on, “I fear our civilian friends will begin getting bored. They've already sworn to keeping Archer in the dark, and to be honest, I think they're getting tired of his optimism. I'm not sure how we can sequester him any further, but I'm sure a solution will present itself. Are there any questions?”
The group collectively shook their heads.
“Okay, well, if any part of the constitution doesn't make sense, you all know how to reach me.”
The celibates were dismissed a moment later, they all filed out, leaving Roger and Val seated alone.
“So, the women in charge, huh?” she asked.
“Surprised?”
“Yes, pleasantly.”
“I thought you would,” he said, “but there's another reason I bring it up. You see, what we're working towards is not just my own dream, but also my wife's. I wanted the group to get used to the idea of answering to a woman because our itinerary will include a bit of a selfish detour. I promised Jennifer that if we ever succeeded, I would return to bring her with me. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” Val said. “Do you need my help with anything?”
“Not at the moment. But, Val, I would like you to come with me when we go back. I believe she will be very excited to meet you.”
“Thank you, Roger. I'll try not to let her down.”
Roger stepped forward and patted Val's hand. “I'm not worried. You've not let me down
.”
Val smiled and walked off to her quarters with a skip in her step. Roger watched her leave, removed a locket from inside his coat, and examined the picture of his wife inside. Just a little while longer, my dear.
Chapter 5
Archer sat quietly in his office reading over schematics for the expedition vessel under construction. Roger knocked on the door’s frame and entered, as there were no doors in the office deck. “Everything on schedule?”
Arched looked up suddenly and jumped a little. “Yes, very much so. Sorry, you scared me a bit.”
“Well, you've been working for weeks on this with little to no sleep; I figured you'd like a ten minute chat just to change up your day.”
“Oh, sure,” Archer said as he set his papers on the desk. “Anything in particular on your mind?”
“No, just usual status report stuff.”
The Great Altruist Page 24
