by Mark Tufo
“Sir, welcome back,” Master Sergeant Beckert said. “We’ve got problems.”
“That’s my break-in period? Welcome back, we’re fucked?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that, sir.”
“Tell me what’s going on, and I’ll decide what level of fuckedness we are.”
“Sir, as you know, according to the ship’s computer we are much closer to the Prog home world than we should be.”
“Now, just so we’re clear and I’m not just still in a drug induced stupor, it’s a possibility that this is a computer glitch, is that correct?”
“It is, sir. We can’t use normal celestial charting during a buckle, we are completely at the mercy of what the computer says.”
Right. Except the computer kept changing its mind about our whereabouts, or our whenabouts. When you are traveling at or above the speed of light or whatever this bucket was doing, there are no visible stars, no way to orientate ourselves, no distant shorelines above the horizon. We got there when the computer told us we got there, pretty much.
“So, are we now scheduled to come out in what? Two weeks?” When you’re a kid waiting for summer vacation, two weeks might as well be half a century; when you are about to get back into a space battle, it feels like about seventeen minutes ‘til the shooting starts again.
“Yes, sir, still two weeks but, it will be space date six thousand twenty-four.”
“Beckert.” I sighed.
“Sorry, sir. We’re so immersed in the lingo down here I forget that everyone isn’t up to speed. Space date refers to when Progs began traveling in space; they started with year one and so on.”
“How much do you like being a Master Sergeant?”
“Very much, sir.”
“Then you’d better get on with it. A leg I no longer have is itching like it’s been slathered in honey and buried knee deep in a fire ant hill. Right now, I’m contemplating taking my pants off and scratching the living fuck out of it before beating you about the head.”
“That wouldn’t be advisable,” Dee replied.
“Yeah, man. Ain’t nobody wants to see that,” BT added.
“What the hell are you doing here? I gave you the day off.”
“And miss your first day back? No way,” BT said as he sat down. “Plus, I know what Beckert is about to say and I want to know what you think.”
“Alright…space dates. Let me have it.”
“Sir, by our reality continuum, that is, well, when we dropped out of the buckle, it was actually six-thousand twenty-nine.”
“Wait, what? So, we’re not only much closer to our destination we’re also five years early? How can that even be possible? That would mean this ship hasn’t even left wherever it came from to head toward earth.”
“This is what we’re muddling through, sir.”
“And what are the odds this is a computer malfunction?” I was going to keep hoping for that until I got one.
“Actually low, sir. We’ve done multiple diagnostics, and everything is running to specs or better; that there would be this one issue seems highly unlikely.”
“But not impossible.” Ever the optimist, me.
“Right now, sir, I don’t think anything is impossible.”
“Dee, any thoughts?” He was the most philosophical of us all.
“The amount of damage this ship could wreak, given that it has created its own time stream, could be catastrophic.”
“Its own time stream?”
“The master sergeant came to me with this problem yesterday. I have had time to reflect on it.”
“Good to see that the man in charge was the last to find out,” I said.
“Yeah, last man. I knew yesterday as well,” Tracy smiled.
“There is a causal link from our time trap to what is happening to us now. These are things that physicists and string theorists would have to untangle, but for our practical purposes, appears we have dropped out of the time line we were traveling in and have started our own new path.”
“A different time line? How different? Is there any reason to hope the Progs never found us? The Stryvers? Perhaps we’re all friends hanging out in the hot tub.”
“There is a common theory known as the path of least resistance. Yes, we have dipped out from what we knew, but it is also likely that in seeking to reestablish itself, time will insert us back into the closest reality we knew before.”
“I’m not digging this shit, I’m not digging this shit at all. So right now, if we’re five years in the past, aren’t we all back on Earth? We’ve just won round one, and we’re planning on rebuilding. My son…” I choked up a bit. “My son isn’t even born yet? How can I be expected to believe this bullshit? I would rather this be a malfunction, Beckert, if you value your rank I suggest you run more tests.”
“Sir, there’s nothing else we could do. I exhausted every method before I brought this to light. If I could, I’d have someone from Earth send me a picture of them holding a dated newspaper.”
“Now you’re just talking crazy,” BT said. “Where the hell would someone get a newspaper?” That got some laughs around the table, even lifted my heart…but still, how does one wrestle with the magnitude of something that cannot be fathomed?
“There’s an uptick here,” Tracy said, leaning into the table. “Maybe we have just started the rebuilding process back home if what he is saying is too be believed, and just maybe we are here as well–time clones, if you will. We’re going to get to the Prog home world and they are going to have absolutely no way of expecting us.”
“Clones? Does that make us less real?” I asked. That seemed a valid question. I had my problems with religion, and my doubts about souls and whatnot; no matter whether I believed in them or not there was a chance they existed, but if I were indeed a copy, do I still own that particular asset? Or would it be split in half? Of all the things the colonel had just said this was the one I could not get past.
“I didn’t think that part through. Are you suggesting there might be two active Mike Talbots?” BT actually looked scared, or at least concerned.
Beckert nodded. I was on the verge of freaking the fuck out, then things took a subtle shift. For the briefest of seconds, the thought did cross my mind about there being two Tracys at once; now there’s a threesome we could…well, you know, that’s where my thoughts went, though the other Mike would not be invited, that would just be weird. The thought was immediately quelled though, as Dee spoke.
“This is something we will need to ponder. We must assume there would be severe consequences for us if we were to meet with our ‘others’ or even when this ship comes into contact with its other self. It is possible that the two cannot exist simultaneously; which of us will take precedence? Or perhaps time will attempt to correct itself and meld us together…that could be extremely uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable? That’s the best you have? Sounds disgusting and definitely horrifying.” I told him.
“I imagine it would be; I was trying to be positive.”
“Alright, I get that. In theory, there are most likely dozens of paradoxes, the ‘what if I kill my grandfather’ story or Dee’s ‘two of the same cannot exist at the same time’ to name a couple. But maybe, just maybe, we were handed a powerful, unlikely weapon. We could eliminate the Progerian threat right now and forever.”
“Sir, this is still only one ship against an armada,” Beckert said.
“Oh, I didn’t say it wasn’t a suicide mission, and nobody may ever know what we did here.”
“We will,” Dee said.
I pointed and nodded. “He gets it!”
“I love what you’re saying here, and I get it, Mike, but circling back around to your paradox stuff,” BT started, “let’s say we’re successful here, we wreak unimaginable damage and this ship or rather the earlier version and her sister ships cannot go to Earth.”
“I like where you’re heading,” I said naively.
“That just gives the Stry
vers an open-door policy.”
“Shit.” Now I saw where he was going.
“Paul never has a reason to get on this ship with Asuras and none of those crazy things you did with the Guardian ever happen, leaving a whole bunch of ugly ass spider things to ravage our world.”
“Shit.” My mind was furiously working in loops attempting to correct a problem that didn’t have an answer. “What the hell do we do, then? We’re still going to show up in Aradinia airspace; do we just buckle off into the sunset once we get there?”
“I would not advise that,” Dee stated. “They will see us, and the Progerians will have their own questions to deal with. It is very likely with just us showing up they will delay sending the fleet to Earth and thus the cycle will continue.”
“Either that or hunt us down and abolish Earth entirely since we’re obviously more advanced than they thought,” Beckert added.
“This is the real reason why time travel isn’t done. It’s a fucking pain in the ass,” I said. “Alright, I am of the belief, for no good or valid reason, that time will do its best to stay the course. That other Mike will have to find another way to deal with the Stryvers. This Mike? Well he’s going to rain hell down on the Progerians from the heavens.”
“I don’t think I like when he refers to himself in the third person,” BT said to Dee. “Somehow makes him seem crazier.”
“Agreed,” Dee replied.
Chapter 10
MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 8
We were supposedly a few days out from our buckle departure point. The Progs weren’t causing any trouble, but the mutes, well they seemed mighty agitated and that was making me nervous. I called for a war council.
“The mutes are going to be a problem. I need ideas,” I said. It was myself, Tracy, Dee, BT, Beckert, Captain Fields, and the newly promoted Corporal Pender. Decided making him a non-commissioned officer was in our best interests, just because the kid seemed to come up with answers out of left field and I got sick of Beckert rolling his eyes whenever the kid spoke up.
“They’re coalescing on deck seven near a group of warehouse rooms,” Fields reported.
“Yeah, nothing suspicious about that. Anyone have any idea what’s in there? Weapons, maybe?”
“Deck seven?” Dee asked. He had a pensive look on his face.
“You know something?” I asked.
“Master Sergeant, could you please pull up the layout of the ship?”
BT and Dee had crowded around the display, making it impossible for those of us size-challenged to get a look.
“You see that?” BT was pointing to something.
“It is as I expected,” Dee replied.
“How about the rest of us?” I said.
Dee moved, BT pointed again. “Tubes,” was Tracy’s one-word answer, as if that was going to explain everything.
“I hope I’m not the only one that still doesn’t know what’s going on,” I told her.
Instead of a smart-ass answer from Dee, or BT for that matter, Dee said, “The tubes lead to missile bays. It is highly likely that the mutes are guarding stores of dexfloradeth.”
“Planet busters.” I wasn’t sure, but it seemed logical. “We need that hallway and those stores.”
“Michael,” Dee said.
“Dee, we are one ship against an entire advanced planet. You’ve seen the computer simulations. Even at our most successful we don’t have much chance of making a lasting impact.”
“And you believe that arbitrarily wiping out an entire world is the answer?” he asked.
There was a lot of uncomfortable shifting from the others. I gave him a stone-cold look, though my stomach was in spin cycle.
“I’m not in love with the idea, Dee, but there’s nothing arbitrary in any of this, and if you go back a ways I’m pretty sure you’ll see that they started it. That stuff, just like the renderers, is on this ship, which leads me to believe they fully intended on using it on my world, or somebody’s. And don’t give me that shit about two wrongs. That relates to two kids on a playground throwing rocks. This race intends to wipe us completely off the slate.”
“And now that is what you are proposing.”
“Besides your hope that there are two of each of us working on this problem, I haven’t heard a viable plan from anyone. I haven’t decided one way or another, considering I just found out that’s an option.”
“You realize there are billions of innocent citizens on that planet, correct?”
“I said I haven’t made up my mind. Now with that being said, again, I think it’s time for everyone to give their best opinion, and only based on what we know for certain this time.”
“First thing we need to do is take that hallway. Then we can decide,” Tracy said.
“And if we should proceed?” I prodded.
“If it stops the war, I say yes, do whatever is necessary. Sorry, Dee,” she said, letting her gaze fall from his.
“BT?” I asked.
“I don’t like it, man, I don’t like it at all. If it’s anything like earth, most of them down there are just doing their best to survive. They probably don’t even have a clue what their military’s up to. What about the Genos? The other races we’re wiping out? Probably some majestic as hell animals down there, too, and we’re just going to wipe them out through no fault of their own. Wrong place at the wrong time, man. That’s rough.” He shook his head, I took that for a “nay” vote, one I hadn’t expected.
“Beckert?”
“Take them out, sir, while we have the advantage,” he said, “that’s war.”
“Captain Fields?” I was going around the table.
“I’m with the Master Sergeant and the colonel on this one. The odds we’ll get another chance are nearly non-existent.”
“Pender?”
“I don’t think it’s right, sir. I know it may be our only chance, but to kill so many that have nothing to do with it, that’s a lot of blood on our hands. I’d rather die knowing I didn’t do this.”
“Drababan, I understand your stance. BT, and Pender, I see your points and they’re good ones. But have you two forgotten our home world? They destroyed billions without prejudice. They leveled cities, took out everything we ever built, all our creation. It will be decades upon decades before any substantial part of what is now gone can be rebuilt; and our civilization will never fully recover. How many more are going to die just attempting to survive? Looks like you are three for and three against, but this isn’t a democracy and we’re not voting. I just wanted to know which way my team leaned, but the decision was always going to be carried around on my shoulders. Either way, I want that hallway. Colonel, Major, I want you to come up with a plan that involves minimal loss of life to gain that area. Understood?”
Yes sir,” Tracy and Dee said in unison.
“Beckert, Pender, I want you to map out the most effective ground placement of the bombs, then I want some high percentage models of what to expect.” They nodded. “Captain Fields, you’re coming with me. I have an Imperial Witness I’d like to talk to.”
“I’d like to get a detail, sir. His personal guard is nearly fifty strong.”
“I guess he has some trust issues. Alright. Meet me back here in thirty.”
Everyone filed out except for Dee. Sort of expected that.
“I haven’t made up my mind, old friend,” I told him.
“Taking that hallway leads me to believe that you have. The collateral damage is far too great for this expedition. At what point is it not worth fighting for?”
“I need that leverage. I need them to think we are capable of time travel and that we can use their best weapons against them. Seems to me that would be some mighty powerful footing.”
“You are not always as ignorant as I believe you to be.”
“If that’s sarcasm, buddy, you really have been working on your delivery.”
He shrugged.
“It’s a tough call for me, Dee. I want to make every one of those fu
ckers pay for what they’ve done to us, and yes, to me. I am allowed to be selfish about this. I was forced to kill other humans for their amusement. You know what that does to someone?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck…I’m sorry. I would think you of all people would be manning the trigger on this.”
“I am tired of death, Michael. I want to live; I want others to live.”
“Yeah, Dee, but are they going to let us? Unlike Pender’s call, if it’s an us or them scenario, for me it’s always going to be us. It was not us that traveled the stars and decided to beat up on everything we encountered.”
“And if humans had? Would you still stand on the side of Us?
“I’m not going to get into what-ifs with you, Dee, it goes nowhere. In all likelihood, when this shit is over and we come out on top, we’ll take ships like these and go venturing out. We’ll come across a less evolved species and just push them to the side; hell, that’s what our early explorers did in spades. There’s no part of me that thinks it will be different just because we’re a thousand years older. We’re a violent, territorial, expansionist, sons of bitches species, and the Progs are going to fucking wish they had never crossed our path.”
“I stayed behind so that perhaps you could collect your thought process, let cooler heads prevail, as your kind say. I think instead I have incited your inclinations towards combat.”
“Do you realize the opportunity I have here? We are five years in the past. How many lives do you think I can save back on earth?”
“You are rationalizing. The cost of each of those saved will be soaked in the blood of each lost here.”
“Dee, I Don’t Fucking Care,” I stressed each word. That was a lie; you can’t be responsible for the death of billions of sentient beings and not have it affect you profoundly. I was fighting violently for a side of the argument I knew wasn’t right; but being one man who had suffered great loss, I would and could rationalize. “Do you think those we could save are going to shed a tear for those that died here? The Progerians brought this on themselves. We didn’t try to take their home world, we didn’t bomb the living shit out of them, we didn’t eat them, we didn’t force them to fight in arenas, we didn’t bring the Stryvers to their doorstep. I get it. Maybe we would have done the same, but we didn’t. Yeah, let’s just fly off into the sunset, save our own little ship and head back to our ruined world. Then I can tell all those orphans, those parents that, unimaginably, lost their children, sisters without their brothers, the lovers who’ve lost their partners, that we had a chance to save them but we felt too bad about it. Yeah, that sounds like a fantastic idea; of course, you’ll be there to help me with that, right?”
