Time to return to reality. He snuggles down in his blanket, closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep when the authorities approach his crib.
Jack was back at his computer again.
“Yes!” he said out loud, punching the air. “Phew, it was close though,” he laughs.
Almost about to get up from his computer, Jack was alerted by another message: “We wish to continue our research. Please be aware that this exercise is top-secret, and all instructions should be carried out in a proper manner. It is imperative that our research program not be tampered with in any way. Doing so can bring about serious consequences and may alter the course of history for the operator. It is a pioneer program, and does not rule out misadventure inadvertently instigated by the operator. Please do not attempt any solo journeys. There are viral instigators from Jovian who may try to intercept you, tempting you to undertake solo journeys, which may lead to self-destruction. It is vital that you exercise discernment.”
“Self-destruction!” Jack said aloud. “Bloody hell!” He remembered the black Volvo Estate with the number-plate JOVIAN and wondered if they had anything to do with the ‘viral instigators’.
They must have hacked into my computer, Jack thought, now realising that a third party was watching him.
“We wish to continue our research. Are you in readiness to proceed?” the message went on to say.
“Yes,” he typed.
“Please apply virtual reality device and type in a date and duration of time as 19 September 1993 - five hours.” Jack wondered why they had requested a date this time, but typed it in anyway, feeling somewhat hesitant about the length of time away.
Jack finds himself at eleven years old in a room filled with people, his parents celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary. His cousin Josh sits beside him. He immediately begins looking for his mother, firstly recognising her outfit: a dark blue twinset she had bought especially for the occasion. Jack is in awe of her, but once again tells himself not to rush up and smother her with kisses. After all, he knows that eleven-year-old boys don’t do that sort of thing. He admires her from a distance, marvelling at her hostess skills. Jack’s father appears by his mother’s side, placing his hand protectively in the small of her back while they chat to another couple. Jack becomes aware of the respect his dad has for his mum, and hopes his own eventual marriage will be the same. He tells himself he will see to it.
His mind wanders to Megan. What if… There is a definite mutual affection between them, but the prospect of marriage seems too bizarre to him.
Far out! he says to himself, realising something. There is an uncanny likeness between Megan and his mother. The same green eyes. Also their mannerisms are similar, he thinks. Megan has golden blonde hair, his mother a dark strawberry blonde. Jack shrugs it off, considering it a silly notion as he’s aware that Megan is like a ‘mother figure’ to him even though she is two-and-a-half years his junior.
Maybe it’s because I miss Mum so much, he reflects. And here he is, able to see and hear his mother, a magical memory that he is actually reliving.
A relative approaches him and asks him to pass around the hors d’oeuvres. In doing so he catches sight of his reflection in the lounge mirror. Jack had forgotten what he looked like: a medium-sized eleven-year-old with dark brown hair, a haircut in a modern 1990s’ style, a haircut that his schoolmates also sported. He thinks he looks pretty cool. The zits hadn’t broken out yet - they were yet to come. Oh, the years he’d agonised over those. Even today, the odd scar from his teenage zits still remain.
His father comes up to him, startling him. “Jack, I want you to accompany me on the guitar, a piece for our friends.”
“Sure, okay, dad,” he replies, hiding the surprise in his voice. Jack had been learning the drums, and wasn’t bad at all, his father eager to show off his son’s talent. After Ben’s introduction of what they intend to play, Jack is away. Everyone starts clapping in time and tapping their feet. Jack is quietly thrilled to remember how to play. A couple of people begin dancing, encouraging others up, the small lounge eventually bursting at the seams with dancers. Jack beams, wondering if he’ll make it into a band somewhere.
Get a grip! he says to himself. He realises it is easy to get confused between the real world and this whatever-it-is situation he keeps finding himself in.
After they finish, Ben Dunlop organises stereo music, and the atmosphere grows more and more charged as the night wears on. Jack is having a ball, dancing with all of his cousins.
Nancy Dunlop talks with her younger sister Pippa, whom she hasn’t seen for some time. Jack can see them in deep conversation in the kitchen. Hovering by the doorway, he sees his aunt hand a photo to his mother. Nancy then cups her hand over her mouth. Jack backs away as he doesn’t want them to see him. He tries to mingle with the others, but feels concerned for his mum, and also somewhat curious. His mother and aunt join their guests again, and are once again smiling and laughing. As it is nearly midnight Jack starts to feel weary. His younger cousin has already fallen asleep in the spare room and there is no-one else to hang out with anymore. He puts himself to bed after saying his goodnights.
In a while, Nancy comes into his room to tuck him in. Jack sleepily asks her, “Who was in that picture that Aunt Pippa was showing you?”
“It’s a photo of Katy,” his mother replies, looking surprised. She quickly tucks in the sheets, giving Jack a kiss on the forehead.
Jack lies there for a while thinking about his cousin who died of leukaemia at the age of eleven. This wakes him, and he feels an urge to look at the photo. Stealing into his parents’ bedroom Jack finds his mother’s handbag, and rummages through it. Back in his room, Jack switches on his bedside lamp. The photo of the young girl takes him by surprise. She has beautiful green eyes, olive complexion and honey-blonde hair.
“Far out!” he says aloud, discerning that her smile and Megan’s smile are one and the same. Her hair is lighter, much lighter, but the image before him, he thinks, is a cross between his mother and a very young Megan. He puts the photo carefully back into his mother’s handbag and returns to his bed, his mind spinning.
He drifts off to sleep.
Jack found himself back at his computer with a message awaiting him.
“Thank you for participating. There is a very important message in your last virtual reality experience. Please progress carefully, and once again we stress that you do not partake in any self-instigated journeys. Please await further instructions that will be issued within the next twenty-four hours.”
Chapter 2
There are a few things to find out, Jack considered. He arranged to meet Megan in the park.
A row of ducklings follow their mother around the lake; an endearing scene. As he waited for Megan the sun’s warmth brought about a pleasant feeling, a promise of good things to come.
Megan arrived carrying a flax bag full of goodies for lunch. Jack felt lucky to have a gorgeous Kiwi girl like Megan.
She enjoyed doing all the picnic stuff as it brought back memories for her, when she and her mother made lunches for all the stockmen then deliver them out on the station in the old farm ute, a welcome sight for the horsemen who had been up since the crack of dawn rounding up sheep. She arose at five a.m. to help her mother organise a hearty breakfast for them, then once the dishes were done they started making the sandwiches. It was hard work but Megan enjoyed every minute of it, while other girls of her age were busy with their friends.
In those days Megan was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. The younger stockmen thought that in a few years’ time she’d be prime stock, but knew if they overstepped the mark they’d be out of a job, so they kept their thoughts to themselves. Besides, old man McGlew could be a tough old bugger at times, and certainly wouldn’t put up with anyone taking a shot at his ‘baby’. And they sure didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. All in all they had a pretty good working relationship with Megan.
Jack gazed at his gi
rlfriend, contemplating that she had the most stunning smile, and became filled with pride that they were actually an item. They sat on the grass and ate their lunch in silence, with Jack wondering how he was going to raise the subject.
“Megan, your parents are Scottish, aren’t they?” he broached.
“Dad is,” Megan replied, “why?”
“No reason,” he lied. “It’s just that after all this time I still don’t know your family that well. Just thought it would be nice to find out the heritage of my sweet Scottish girl.”
“Oh, I’m not Scottish. I was adopted, but Dad is definitely Scottish, and he’s got the McGlew temper to boot,” she laughed. Jack contained his surprise.
Dennis and Barbara McGlew were nice enough people, now in retirement. Their age portrayed them rather like grandparents than parents to Megan. Jack had surmised that they would have been well into their forties when Megan was born.
“Megan, you never told me you were adopted,” he almost accused.
“Well, I never thought it would bother you,” she curtly replied, looking suddenly annoyed.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to… Your other brothers and sisters, are they all adopted too?” he asked cautiously, attempting to sidetrack the situation.
“Nope, just me. They’re all a lot older than me, too. My eldest sister is eighteen years older, and when she started having children I was only four, so they were my playmates. They’re all biological McGlews, but I don’t see myself as being the odd one out because they’ve treated me like a normal sister. My parents are paying top dollar for a good education too. My brothers and sisters all went to ordinary schools. That’s why I’m nearly at uni now. I’m really clever you know,” she grinned.
“Why were you adopted?” Jack blurted, but then quickly apologised.
“That’s okay, I guess,” Megan replied, looking slightly mystified at him. “My mother was involved with Women’s Refuge. She took an interest in one girl, my bio-mother, who’d gotten herself involved with a pig of a man, my bio-father, and ended up at the Refuge. I think she was a hippie, into drugs and sex and stuff like that,” she grimaced. “Mum has never kept any secrets from me, but I actually never really wanted to know. What’s past is past, and I’d prefer to think that I came from a nice, respectable, well-to-do family and not some hideous background. I’m quite happy with things the way they are. Okay?”
Jack knew he had to stop the twenty questions, knowing he was touching on a taboo subject.
Quit while you’re ahead, he cautioned himself. They spent the rest of the day walking around the park, holding hands.
Jack noticed the black Volvo parked across the road again. The two occupants hadn’t seen Jack return home, and seemed to be engaged in something.
Probably their laptop again. Jack bolted down his driveway and across the road, startling them when he knocked on the window. The man in the passenger seat promptly closed the laptop and removed his headphones.
A surge of adrenaline shot through him. “Would you two jerks mind telling me what’s going on? Are you spying on me?” he demanded. Jack was pumped and spoiling for a fight.
The smaller man spoke in an accent so strange that Jack could barely understand him. “Do not alarm yourself, young man, we are not here to harm you. We have a mission that we must carry out, that we do not expect you to understand. Your privacy is safe with us.”
The driver didn’t say a word. Maybe he doesn’t speak English, Jack thought. He stared at the one who spoke.
“Bugger off! And keep away from my place! I know you are somehow meddling with my computer. If you don’t, then I’ll get legal advice,” Jack yelled at them, though he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
What would I say to a lawyer - There’s someone messing with my computer and telling me to change my history and shit?
The small man calmly responded, “Do not attempt to put an end to our mission.” With that they drove away at such a speed Jack didn’t think was possible.
Time for a Coke, he thought, trying to calm down.
His computer was buzzing. “What now?” he exclaimed, infuriated.
There were his parents again, waiting to talk to him. “Hello, Jack,” his father beamed.
Immediately thrilled, Jack spoke into the mike. “Mum, Dad, hello. Have you been watching what’s been going on here? I was at your fifteenth wedding anniversary!”
“Yes Dear,” his mother smiled. Oh those sweet words, how he missed them. “We’ve been involved at this end. It is a top-secret exercise that is being monitored by Jovian’s greatest scientists.”
Jack had so much to say. “Mum, Dad, there’s some people here from Jovian. They keep appearing in a black Volvo with dark windows, and are meddling with my computer. And they’ve already got me to type in a date and situation of my own choosing, where I was born into a black family!”
His parents glanced at each other. “Please don’t attempt anything that isn’t requested by our scientists Son, or you could find yourself in danger,” his father warned.
“I know! No, I won’t be doing anything like that again, but who are they? And why are they here? I feel a bit scared of them,” Jack confessed.
“If you don’t do what they’re trying to get you to do, there’s nothing to worry about. They’re agents for a group of Jovian reprobates who are trying to attempt their own research program, but are tapping into ours. To them it means a stake in rights over all galactic communication with Earth. It’s a very sought-after formula. There are a lot of intelligent people here, and unfortunately a minority of them have unsavoury intentions. Their influence could corrupt the powers that be. I suppose you could call them the Mafia of Jovian, without any of the killing,” his father explained.
“Well, that’s reassuring, I think,” Jack said, more anxious now than he already was. “So should I just ignore them?”
“Yes. Our scientists are working on the situation from here to block them,” Jack’s mother answered.
“How did they get agents here?” Jack asked.
“We’re not exactly sure. What they’re doing is illegal and they will be seen to by the Supreme Institution of Corrections upon their return,” his father assured him.
“Well, I sure as hell hope they return soon. This whole thing is scary enough without them bloody hanging around.”
“Please try and handle it Son,” his father said. “We’ll make sure they don’t hurt you. We wish you were here with us.”
Jack changed the subject. “I’ve met this girl called Megan, and I’ve since found out some things that kinda make me feel funny about our relationship. She’s from down the line and was adopted into an older family - the McGlews. She sorta looks like you Mum, and when I was at your wedding anniversary I saw a photo that Aunt Pippa gave you. It was of Katy who you said had died of leukaemia when she was eleven. She looked like a young version of Megan.”
His parents glanced at each other again, his mother looking uneasy. “Please don’t continue with this relationship. I can’t give details right now. It’s something that has to be explained to you when you’re here with us,” his father stated.
Jack felt a stab of fear. He glared back at his parents.
“I have to go,” he said, and quickly switched off his computer. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Megan. He knew he had to get to the bottom of it.
This was turning into a nightmare, Jack thought, pondering over what he was going to do.
The next day he told Megan he wanted to ask her about her life as a young girl. He also asked for her date of birth. It didn’t seem too out of character, and she wasn’t suspicious of his fishing for information.
Jack readied his plan of attack, but knew he had to wait until it was requested. It came in six days’ time.
There was another message: “We wish to continue our research. Are you in readiness to proceed?”
“Yes,” he quickly typed.
“Please apply virtual reality device and typ
e in a date and duration of time.”
Jack typed in 4th December 1984, two hours.
He finds himself being babysat at his aunt’s house. Jack deems he is between the ages of two and three. His surroundings produce a sense of anxiety all babies feel when in unfamiliar territory. He wasn’t in his Aunt Pippa’s care very often as she lived in the South Island. How he came to be here he doesn’t know. And at the minute, his Aunt Pippa is not with him. Jack sees the legs of a man walking towards him, swinging him up. He is an older man, perhaps in his forties, he judges.
The man has noticed Jack’s distressed expression. “Thare, thare, wee man,” he soothes. “I’m aff tae tak’ care o’ ye th’day while yer mummy’s busy. Ye kin ca’ me Uncle Dennis if ye lik’. Wur aff tae hae some fin, aff tae wrap ye up a’ nice ‘n’ warm ‘n’ tak’ ye fur a walk.” Jack is intrigued by this man’s broad Scottish accent. He sits in his stroller while Dennis pushes him down the clay driveway, erratically dodging obstacles. The older man then lifts Jack out of his stroller and carries him across a paddock to where several pigs are waiting for their dinner. The pigs snort as Dennis empties the bucket of scraps into their food trough. Jack watches in his little blue gumboots, fascinated. The pigs seem tame, and after finishing their meal one rolls over, snorting happily while Dennis gives the sow a scratch on her belly.
This is not why I keyed in Megan’s birth date.
Dennis carries Jack through to another paddock where sheep huddle together in pens, having been mustered the day before in readiness for shearing. Dennis scans the flock, checking for any lame sheep. He tells Jack to see if he can catch one.
How immature, Jack thinks, but he tells himself he needs to remember he is only two-and-a-half, and has to act like it. So off he trots in his gumboots, and trips in a puddle of mud.
The Jovian Legacy Page 3
