Timelines

by Bob Blink

  I stuttered a bit as my brain tried to formulate six questions at once. “Micro-meds,” I finally managed to get out, although that wasn’t the first question in my mind.

  “Medicines that work at the microscopic level. I think the term you used would be nano-medicines. They can read your DNA, decide what is damaged, and make repairs from inside your system. Very powerful. They can rebuild organs that have been totally destroyed. And smart drugs. I have given you a whole spectrum of micro-inhibitors. You could have unleashed a variety of deadly plagues across the eons with your unprotected wandering through the time matrix.” I got a hostile glare with that.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, although I wasn’t exactly certain what I was apologizing for. It had never occurred to me that I might be unprotected from the germs of another age, or that something I carried safely within me could be deadly to the inhabitants of another time. “Are you sure that your alien technology is really safe for me?” As she had said, I was a bit stupid. Perhaps it was that I was still recovering, but whatever she had used had obviously worked. I don’t think the best medical technology known at home could have done much for me, even had I been in the best of hospitals rather than in a frozen cave in the mountains.

  “Alien technology,” she looked confused. “I’m not an alien. I am from the same world as you. A little way uptime, but the same earth.”

  I didn’t think so. “Why lie?” I said. “I am amazed at the resemblance between our species, but I don’t believe you are a natural result of a few centuries of evolution.”

  That was the most I had said in our conversation so far. She listened intently to my words, almost as though she was feeling and absorbing the rhythm of my speech and details of pronunciation. She also looked momentarily confused, then suddenly laughed.

  “This,” she laughed again, pointing to herself. “I had forgotten what it looks like. It is important to fit in and where I live now its normal to use body color.”

  It was a nice laugh I realized. Sexy even. However, now it was my turn to be confused. “Body color?” I asked.

  “ChemTabs. Micro-tech makeup,” she responded. “It only lasts a day or so. By tomorrow my natural coloring will be back and I will look much as you. The makeup chemically alters the skin pigmentation of selected areas of the body at the cellular level. People change at will. Some wear the same pattern for months, others change almost daily. The idea comes from something an author from your own time proposed. Once the technology made it possible, someone started the fad. The original versions of the coloring were slow to act, but the newest versions work very quickly. I think the practice is a bit weird, but it is best not to stand out.”

  “So you are really human? From what I would call the future? Then you are one of the builders of this, what did you call it, the time matrix?”

  She seemed to listen again carefully to my words, as though she had to translate them carefully. I thought I might have to reserve acceptance of her claims. Why did it take her time to understand me when she could speak so easily? “Yes, yes, and decidedly no,” she responded. “I am definitely not one of those responsible for this dangerous creation.”

  “Then how did you get access to the time matrix, to use your term? I have been using it off an on for a couple of years. I have never seen anyone else inside the complex.”

  “I have seen no others either. Although I had reason to suspect someone else had been inside. Imagine my surprise to find you at the intersection. You are very lucky I chose that day to bring supplies back here.”

  I noticed she hadn’t really answered my question. But it brought another thought to mind and a bit of a chill up my spine. “That reminds me. My key is gone,” I said, reaching down towards my chest as if to grasp an imaginary object hanging from my neck.

  She knew exactly what I meant. She hesitated, sighed, and then stood up and walked across the room. She rummaged around the items lying on the table, and returned a moment later holding the treasured key in her hand. Standing over me, she dangled the necklace of braided steel that held the key just out of reach. After a moment of silence, she allowed it to drop slowly into my outstretched hand. The relief that surged through my body was overwhelming. Nothing she could have done could have ensured my trust more than that simple act. I looked at the corroded coppery looking object, knowing the material, whatever it was, was not copper. It was harder than anything I had ever seen and hadn’t worn or changed color at all in the two years I had worn it. Roughly an inch and a half on a side and a quarter of an inch thick, it had a small hole in one end through which I had strung the steel cord, and a small rectangular opening in the opposite edge. It looked almost like it plugged into something, but what? One side was covered with odd symbols, writing I assumed, and the other had a small frosted rectangle that had never shown any activity. It also was unscratchable.

  “Thank you,” I whispered softly.

  She waved a hand absently. “Please” she began, “don’t leave until you are well. And please, let us talk. We are the only two who seem to have access to the matrix, and while you can go home, I cannot.” The pain associated with her last statement was obvious. I didn’t know why, but suddenly wanted to learn as much about her as possible.

  She had once again walked across the room, although this time she went to the pile of boxes I had noted earlier. She returned with a cylindrical bottle, tore open a cover, held it a moment, and then handed it to me.

  “Drink,” she instructed. “Your body needs this. Later we will arrange for something more to your liking. I didn’t think you would be this far along yet.”

  To my surprise the bottle was warm. I suspected she had held it a moment to allow whatever mechanism responsible to have time to heat the contents. It had no real taste, but I felt better after having swallowed the contents. Maybe it was only having a full stomach that made the difference.

  “Jim Crampton,” I said, holding out my hand after setting down the drink. It was time to get to know this lady better. I had a feeling she was going to be an invaluable friend, and it was already clear she knew many things I didn’t.

  “I know. Your document package had your name on it.” She pointed to my wallet, which lay open on the table across the room. “It also tells where you are from, and when,” she added with a hint of a smile. She was one up on me again. She knew my name and what time frame I was from. I still knew nothing about her.

  “Karole,” she said suddenly, as if reading my mind. I suddenly wondered if she could. I hoped not. Some of my thoughts. . . . .

  “Just Karole?” I asked.

  “I have a number,” she said. “But it is long, and you wouldn’t remember it anyway. Besides, you didn’t use them in the 21st century, did you?”

  I was noticing something. Her English was different than it had been. It was already sounding more and more like my own. We had talked very little, but it was if she was able to adapt her language to match my own. I asked her about it.

  “More micro-meds,” was her response. “Modified learning. The language ability dies away when we are young, but doctors had learned not only to reactivate these centers, but the means of stimulating the rate of learning. It works especially well when the learning involves a modification of a language or skill already known, as in this case. When I learned when and where you were from, I obtained some of the medications so I could adjust my language. I hope we are going to have much to share, and so I must speak your language. In a couple of days I will be fully adapted, and the medications will go dormant.”

  More magic. I was going to have to get used to it, I supposed.

  “Another thing,” she added. “The medications you have been taking. They have another effect. You can expect an increased life span, almost double of what you are used to. That is, unless you make a habit of capturing spears with your body. You are protected from disease and aging, but not against physical damage. Oh, and you won’t be infecting others with your viruses. People are safe from you now.” She sa
id this as matter-of-fact, not a hint of the significance of what it meant.

  “Karole,” I said, tasting the odd pronunciation on my tongue. “I am overwhelmed. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “I know what time is yours,” she offered. “I am from about 800 years uptime from you. I have been aware of the matrix and using it for almost four years now. And you?”

  “Almost two years now,” I offered.

  “Do you know when and where all of the tunnels go?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you know how to change the destination of the tunnels”?

  “Ah, no.”

  “Can you read any of the writing in the center, or operate any of the equipment?”

  “No again.” I wasn’t going to impress her with my knowledge.

  “Any ideas why the complex is there in the first place?”

  “Not a clue,” I responded honestly.

  She looked at me a minute. “For two years of adventuring, you sure don’t know much do you?”

  I was embarrassed at my lack of knowledge, but she continued after a momentary pause before I could try and defend my shortcomings. “Me either,” she admitted. After four years I can’t even turn on their damn computers. We are going to make a powerful team James Crampton.”

  I thought of a question she hadn’t asked. “Do you have any idea who built it?” I asked, expecting a ‘no’ in return.

  She looked at me a long moment with anger building in her eyes then replied. “Oh yes. I know who built it!”

  “Who?” I asked eagerly, curious to have this part of the mystery explained at least, but surprised by her change in attitude.

  “Not who, what! It was built by a race of aliens. Okay,” she admitted, “I don’t know where they are from, or what they call themselves, or how long they have been here. But I know they are up to something we aren’t going to like. And,” she finished angrily, “the hairy bastards took my brother!”

  Too much input. I was stunned. Aliens after all. I had wondered and feared, but now she had given substance to my worries. And her brother? How the hell? I was at a loss for what to say and sat momentarily tongue-tied. By the time I was able to recover, she suddenly stood up. “We can talk about this later. It will soon be dark outside, and I am getting hungry and you are ready for real food.”

  It was my first indication of the time of day here. Karole had pulled what looked like a short rifle from the pile of equipment across the room. She handled it like she knew what she was doing.

  “You will have to wait here. Your strength is greater than you think, but still not up to a walk of any distance. By tomorrow I can show you around.”

  “Are you a good enough shot with that,” I asked. She didn’t look like the hunter type.

  “Its an NIR; Neural Inhibitor Rifle. Adjustable power and spread. With minimum power and wide angle spread, I can drop every rabbit within fifty yards. This is not hunting. It is gathering.”

  “Oh,” she said stopping and turning back my way with a savage gleam in her eye. “And on maximum setting it kills aliens just fine!”

  Then it hit me that she knew this from personal experience. It seemed my new friend had more than seen the aliens. She had started her own little war with them and had killed at least one!

  She had skinned rabbit before, and soon had them roasting on a spit inside some form of oven. A variety of other foods, some of which I recognized and some of which I didn’t came out of her supply cache across the room. Soon some very appealing smells permeated the small room.

  “Microwave?” I asked pointing at the oven in which the two rabbits were roasting.

  “Thermal. Meat is best cooked by good old-fashioned heat. I became fond of the older ways of cooking during my first months after becoming cut off from home.”

  “Will you tell me about it?” I asked carefully. She had clearly been upset by the memories, but I desperately wanted to know what she had seen. She had clues to what I had been seeking since stumbling into this mystery two long years before.

  She hesitated, then started her story. It took a while and continued through our dinner, of which I ate more than my share. She was correct in that I was already feeling amazingly better. There was hardly any pain anymore, and when I looked before turning in for the night, the bruising was virtually gone.

  “Okay,” she started. “I told you that I lived almost eight hundred years uptime from you. My older brother and mother were my only family, but she was ill and barely knew us anymore. Despite advances in medicine, there were still things that just couldn’t be cured, especially damage to the brain. Hers was such a situation. She had been badly hurt in an accident, and had never recovered. Requiring a great deal of care she lived in a special facility.”

  She paused for a moment to catch her breath and consider the direction she wanted to head. “I was in school working on a general technical major. I still didn’t know what I really wanted to do, but I had time, as it was only my sixth year of college. I had another two years before having to specialize, but was beginning to think that some branch of thermal physics might be for me. Science had unlocked many sources of energy, so many choices that energy was more than abundant, but the prolific uses of energy meant a lot of waste heat. It is a problem that was growing worse every decade. But I wasn’t sure I was disciplined enough for it. My brother was a wonder kid in one of the military combines, and I wanted to talk to him about it. The problem with the really good jobs in the theoretical area was that the military dominated the field. I wasn’t sure I wanted that, despite the importance of defense. Certainly some of the other nations were already threatening the colonies on the other planets, and even some of the colonies on the nearby stars were at risk and we had to be able to protect them.” She shook her head. She was getting off track.

  “So I went to see him. A surprise visit actually. I wasn’t supposed to be able to get into his living compound, but I had learned how more than a year earlier. I let myself in when I arrived, just being playful. I slipped through the house looking for him when I heard a noise down the hall where his study was. That wasn’t a big surprise. He was working even though he was at home. I peeked into the study to find my brother lying on the floor; dead, unconscious, I don’t know. Three creatures stood over him, quietly grunting back and forth.” She paused and looked my way.

  I indicated I was with her and asked what the creatures had looked like.

  “Bipeds, like us. Clearly alien. There were three of them. Average height was a little less than you,” she added looking my way. “They were covered with medium length brown hair everywhere I could see, but much of their body was covered by a single loose garment. On top of this was a harness of some sort, which housed a pack with a variety of controls. I think it controlled some kind of field that seemed to surround them, or maybe their air. You’ve noticed that the air in the complex is oxygen rich, haven’t you?”

  I had noticed, and had actually run tests. More than 25% oxygen, which is one of the reasons I had all along expected an alien involvement. But there were a lot of reasons why humans might have wanted an oxygen rich atmosphere. Our space missions used an almost pure oxygen environment, although at the same partial pressure as sea level oxygen. The alien complex ran at almost normal pressure. The issue had never been conclusive.

  Karole continued her tale uninterrupted. “Single wide nostril, and four eyes. There appeared to be two sets, both positioned similar to ours on the head, but with their smaller set of eyes placed higher and back a bit. I think they are responsive to different wavelengths of light.”

  “I was terrified,” she said dropping the description. “I backed away and ran down to the library. My brother was a collector of weapons, even some from as far back as your time. He had taught me to shoot some of them, and I grabbed the most powerful from his safe. My palm print was encoded to open it,” she added. “I hurried back down the hall, adjusting the setting to maximum strength and narrow beam.”
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br />   She paused momentarily, then continued. “They aren’t very strong because my brother was clearly a load for them. One had managed to get him over his shoulder and was struggling to get him to the balcony where they each mounted a small vehicle, really just a tripod with a long handle in the center, and a set of pedals. You must have seen the devices in the matrix, down by the ramp that leads to the tunnels. Another was already aboard his vehicle and was lifting into the air. However the vehicles worked, they worked silently, and projected a field that made them difficult to see.”

  “The third alien happened to be looking my way as I entered the room. But it hadn’t been expecting anything, and wasn’t ready. Besides, I think the alien thought it safe against whatever weapons might be encountered.” She paused again, remembering. “I shot him square in the chest. Military issue,” she indicated, “even if only the training version and with limited power and charge capacity. Thank goodness for my brother’s connections that allowed him to have it. The alien’s nervous system was as susceptible as ours is. He just crumpled and fell to the floor.”

  “And the others?” I asked knowing they must have gotten away.

  “Up and gone in an instant,” she replied. “I had my Skybike, of course,” and she pointed towards one of the walls where a small oddly framed device sat. It looked a bit like an exercise bike as there were no wheels, just a couple of seats, handle bars, and a control panel. I hadn’t even paid it any notice earlier.

  “I had left it downstairs and had to run to get back where it sat by the rear entrance. I jumped aboard and headed off in the direction they had disappeared, carrying the neural rifle in one hand, as there wasn’t really any place to secure it. I went high, hoping to extend my viewing range, but still thought I had lost them. Fortunately, I was faster than they were, and I was flying up high where they didn’t see me. I don’t think they expected to be pursued anyway.”