Chapter Six
The Future: 7245 A.D.
EVEN AFTER HEARING the riddle, Savannah Proehl hadn't been able to make much sense of it, other than to figure out the number fourteen was important to her mission to save the world. After getting the Soonseen's Lonnan Nation to cease firing at a ship from their Kinnan Nation, President Kunan Slaan had asked her to stick around in the future for a while.
The problem of the human race dying out as a result of Hinjo Junta's actions had remained. Though the immediate danger from deflected energy beams striking the planet had passed, Savannah found that she could not return home as soon as she wanted.
Not that she actually did want to return home. The multitude of scars on her back, the scar on her leg and the scar across her rib cage all reminded her of what awaited her when she returned to her father.
She still smelled the foul alcohol on his breath as he leered over her. She might be bleeding, asleep, or crying. So often had he beaten her that his facial expression remained the same, unlike after the first whipping Savannah had endured.
He had been apologetic back then. He said that he regretted what he had done, and Savannah had believed him. She wanted more than anything to believe that her father had it in him to overcome his own monstrous nature.
Yet, by the time her back fully healed from the whipping, he had done it again. He whipped her with a leather belt. He always held the buckle in one red fist. Each time the leather struck her back, Savannah lost a little more faith in her father.
By the time she had lost track of how many times he had whipped her, any hope she had once harbored of her father overcoming his demons had disappeared. She no longer thought it would be possible for her father to become the kind, loving man she remembered.
That man had hugged her at all hours of the day, had taken her to the park, and had watched her favorite cartoons with her. He had even laughed at the jokes Savannah thought only she understood. She had felt, back then, that she and her father had a special connection.
Returning to him would mean that she was inviting him to hurt her again. Worse, he would likely be angrier than ever since she had left him. He had always warned her against running away, even though the idea had never crossed her mind.
She couldn't leave him, even if she found herself hating him. Washing blood stained sheets and blankets had become routine in her household. She had never once thought that matters could be better anywhere else.
That's why she wondered why Kenneth's body bore no scars. Every parent had to beat their child. Savannah had always thought so. Yet, Kenneth had never been beaten, if the condition of his body was any indication.
When Savannah had first seen him with his shirt off, she had been too caught up in her emotions to think through what it might mean for her to be different, for her to have parents that acted worse than another person's parents.
Considering the future, however, she found that the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to stay. She said she wanted to go home because she had been tired of solving everyone else's problems.
Kenneth had been right about that when he told President Slaan that the people of the future needed to clean up their own messes. Savannah felt the same way. She wanted to live in peace, apart from all the crises and disasters and emergencies.
As far as she could tell, for all the problems it had, the seventy-third century had more peace than the twenty-first century did.
She sat in the president's mansion in Jakarta. President Slaan had placed her in a room with three walls and several panes of glass connected to each other to form one great transparent wall. The evening sun streamed in through the glass, shining upon her braided hair which lay over one shoulder.
An empty white can lie before her on a glass table. The can had once contained the same kind of gray nutrients she had eaten in Alexandria. She wouldn't call it food, not since she had come to regard it as little better than puppy chow.
President Slaan had promised to bring her food from the Temporal Constabulary. The nearest constabulary base lay in Okinawa, which was further away from Jakarta than Savannah would have guessed.
Having flown around the world of the future herself, she knew that nothing came instantly. Yet she had hoped that, as she had been promised food around midday, it would arrive in time for supper. When 7 PM had come and gone, she had given in and said she would eat more dog food if it meant she didn't have to be hungry.
Having finished off the can of nutrients, she sat back on a white, cushioned sofa, giving her mind over to the problem of the riddle. As long as President Slaan was convinced that Savannah, together with Unquill and Kenneth could save the world, he would keep them around.
As Savannah thought about it, the three people in the riddle could have referred to anyone. Moreover, as she considered the riddle itself, she found herself wondering if it wasn't all just an elaborate prank, or a scheme to achieve some other end.
Solving the riddle-if it could be solved-would free her from under President Slaan's thumb. After that, she could go and do whatever she wanted. Provided of course that the people of the future found a more permanent solution for her than the temporal alignment device bulging out of the skin from her hip.
She pressed a hand there, feeling it give way. When she removed her hand, the device returned the same bulge it had.
Unquill had said the temporal alignment device kept her alive-at least for another seven days. She had only that much time to solve the riddle and save the world. That thought made her grin. Save the world? Not such a big deal, all things considered.
She got up off the couch, returning to her exploration of the president's mansion. She left the empty can where it lay on the table. She didn't want to have to look at it or think about it again. Since she had eaten in the sun room on the west side of the mansion, she had to walk through the hallway to get back to the main room, where the president of Jakarta and Unquill waited.
The soft, red carpet beneath her feet bore elaborate designs of flowers. Never once did the design repeat anywhere in the house. Each section of the carpet was unique. Busts of people Savannah didn't recognize stood on pedestals on either side of the hallway.
A great, ancient painting of a man standing beside a black, smoking cannon had been placed on the wall at the point where the hallway took a sharp left. The man wore a silly, wide hat. He had a hand inside his button-up uniform. He looked off into the distance, towards some object Savannah could only imagine.
She put a hand over her mouth while she chuckled at the irony of the painting. Someone had taken a great deal of trouble to paint a serious-looking man in a serious-looking location wearing the most ridiculous of clothes.
Turning left at the painting, she passed by a guest room in which Kenneth had taken to a video game. With the central computer back on, President Slaan had suggested a bit of entertainment to pass the time. Kenneth had jumped at the offer. He sat on the floor in front of a large screen with a wireless controller in hand.
A spaceship moved about the screen, shooting red beams of energy all around. One beam struck a meteor, vaporizing it. Savannah waved at Kenneth. He looked at her in his peripheral vision, and then gave a friendly grunt.
Savannah walked further down the hallway, and entered the lobby, which she supposed might also be called a reception room. Six couches, in pairs of three, sat across from each other on top of a shiny black floor in which Savannah saw her reflection. Somehow, she managed to get some of the nutrients on her forehead. She licked her index finger, and wiped the food away.
Unquill noticed her at once. For the first time in a long time, he looked happy. A smile crept over his face. Savannah realized that she hadn't seen him smile since he had run from the Black Brigade in the sky transfer station in Williamsport.
He had always looked haggard to her, as though life had just been too much for him. Now, sitting next to President Slaan, a glint appeared in his eyes that Savannah remembered seeing when he had watched her
eat a plate full of vegetables.
Unquill said, "Significant citizen, come and join us."
Savannah sat down on the floor in front of the couch. She rubbed the back of her neck. "You don't have to call me that anymore. I'm just Savannah. Just plain old Savannah. Okay?"
Unquill smiled. The smile relaxed Savannah more than any words of his could have. He said, "Okay."
President Slaan, who at some point had taken off both his socks and shoes, crossed his left leg over his right. His bare foot hanging in mid air seemed out of place to Savannah given that he still wore his best working clothes. He said, "Have you finished eating?"
Savannah made a face at him. "Yes, it gets worse every time."
President Kunan Slaan shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable. He said, "I apologize for that. I'm told a week's worth of food will arrive at about 3 AM tonight. They had quite a time harvesting all the food at the constabulary on such short notice. Some of their plants aren't even ready to be harvested."
Savannah sighed with relief. "I'll be happy to eat some real food again."
Kunan scratched the top of his bare foot. He said, "Now then, shall we talk more about the riddle?"
"If you like," Savannah said. She crossed her legs and placed her hands on her thighs. "Although...I'm wondering what happened to that stuff what's his name was talking about. The Okuda Drive?"
"If you're referring to Officer Winnow Unpo of the Black Brigade, I have heard his information and instructed him to have it processed into the central computer as an ongoing case investigation. So far, the information we have is incomplete.
"We know that three people-namely, Imam Walid Felor of Alexandria, Olon Daniel of Jakarta and Kaloa Syncrate of Europe were involved in collecting money for research and production. We also know that all three of these people are now dead."
The smile vanished from Unquill's face. Suddenly, the haggard expression he had carried with him for the last week returned. Savannah wondered if he regretted the death of Imam Felor, or Olon Daniel. Savannah tried to forget both man-with reason.
Imam Felor had murdered a woman in the streets of Alexandria, and he had done the same crime numerous times. He was evil and he deserved to die. While Olon Daniel had tried to kidnap her, prompting Savannah to blast him with a powerful weapon that, she knew, helped killed him, even if he'd ultimately died of a heart attack. The charge on the weapon she had received in Madagascar had been used up.
Savannah ran a hand along her right palm, where the weapon had once rested. It gave her the feeling of control, something that had been illusive her entire life. She sighed. It also had a heavy price, but if it would save people and put evil men into extinction, she would pay it again.
"Is this connected to the riddle at all?" she asked.
"I think so. Mind you, it's only a guess. But so far, we have three people who have turned up dead, all of whom have a connection to a project that is supposed to make our atmosphere ships capable of standing up to the Soonseen.
"What greater threat could there be than that? Whoever owned ships like that would have the world by the tail. There would be no military force that could stand up to ships equipped with the Okuda Drive, if the specifications I read today are correct."
Unquill grimaced. He said, "Our primary purpose-at least for now-is to find out who is behind those three people. When I met with Kaloa, she told me she works for an organization."
When Unquill spoke her name, his face twisted into a mask of pain and regret. He continued, "If the organization exists, it can be found. I want to find it. They-they killed her."
Savannah asked, "Where do we start?"
President Slaan uncrossed his legs and placed his bare feet on the floor. He said, "Since I have all the power equal to the Council of Thirds, I can authorize quite a number of things. Understand that I can't do everything they can do. I can, however, authorize a trip for you to visit Heracleion. It's underneath the Atlantic Ocean, some miles west of the Catalans."
Savannah bit her lower lip. "Where's the Catalans?"
"I believe in your time, this region was called Portugal? I believe that's the name. It was a country on the Iberian Peninsula. The region elected to call itself the Catalan Nations a few thousand years ago. I can authorize a flight first thing tomorrow morning.
"I want you to poke around, let me know what you find. Now that the computer is working again, we can stay in constant contact. On my end, I will work with Officer Unpo to unravel this organization he's found."
Savannah, who did not look forward to more traveling when she had already flown around the world more times than she could count in the last week, said, "Is it necessary to go there in person?"
President Slaan stretched his arms out in front of him. To Savannah, he looked tired and sore. He said, "Whatever is going on there, it's not showing up in the computer records. Otherwise, we would have found it by now. This organization appears to have found a way to communicate on a worldwide scale without using the computer. Whatever their method, they will have left traces behind somewhere.
"I want you to look at the researchers in the eye. Ask the people at that facility what their impressions are. They may confide their secrets to a stranger rather than someone they know intimately. I'm counting on that aspect of human nature to work for us. It will be up to you to convince them that you are trustworthy."
Savannah turned to Unquill. She asked him, "Do we have to fly in? Can't we do that from here? Video conference or something?"
Unquill sighed. He said, "I'm bone tired. I've got jet lag. I'm sick at heart. But I...I think this is the best way to go. There's no substitute for looking someone in the eyes. This is why we do research by sending people through the time stream, rather than just looking at old books."
Savannah looked down at her hands. She concentrated on her growing fingernails rather than speak the response in her mind. There was, after all, nothing to say. She had been brought into the future against her will, and the people of the future planned on keeping her there until she helped them fix their problems.
If she protested, she would only sound selfish, self-centered. She didn't want them having the opposite impression, either-that she was only too willing to help with whatever they needed. As a result, she said nothing.
President Slaan said, "Then that's decided. I'll arrange for the flight now." He stood up, and walked out of the room.
Savannah's eyes followed him. Once he was out of hearing range, she said to Unquill, "Do we have to?"
Unquill rubbed his eyes with the knuckles of each hand. He then put his hands on his lap and said, "I don't want to either. I'd rather sleep and forget about everything. But, you know, if we have a chance to make a positive change in the world, we should take it. It's not just our lives that we affect. It's everyone.
"We have an impact on people we haven't even met. Some of them will never even know that we changed their lives for the better. If someone offers us a chance to make that change, to improve the lives of the people in this world, shouldn't we take that chance? This world is not just made for only ourselves. It's made for everyone. Don't you think so?"
Savannah could not disagree with him. She sighed again. "I wish you aren't so right all the time."
AS SHE LAY on the first comfortable bed she had found in the seventy-third century, Savannah reflected on everything that had happened since Unquill had stepped through what she now understood to be a passageway through time and taken her out of school.
She wondered why time travel had made her so sleepy-why, as far as she could tell, many people in the seventy-third century had problems with sleep. Was that the price of living so long? She didn't know.
She had felt tired far more often than she had back home. She had flown across the sky, met robots, told she could save the world, crashed a spaceship, stolen a tank from rebels, and killed a man. Had she really done all those things and not someone else? She found it hard to believe her own memory when she recalled everyth
ing that had happened.
She still could not understand what it was in her that had driven her to relentlessly shoot the man named Olon Daniel. Savannah had only seen him alive for a brief time-no more than ten minutes. In those ten minutes, she had determined that he did not deserve to live.
He had drawn a weapon on her, and then told her to cooperate with him. She could not remember every moment of killing him. The memory had grown hazy in her mind, even though it had only been yesterday.
That, among other things, led to her to believe that she had something innately wrong with her. She was not normal, not normal in the ways that the immature girls in middle school had been. Many of them wore too much makeup, or didn't bother showering, or carried handcuffs in their backpacks. Savannah had never quite been able to figure out what those had been used for.
The more she thought about it, though, the more she realized that everything about her life had been unique. She did not fit in anywhere, even if the boys in the A/V Club pretended to like her while they developed photographs in the darkroom.
She brought her face out of the soft white pillow she was laying in. Moonlight shone in through the skylight, causing objects in the room to cast unusual-looking shadows. A vase full of different-colored flowers had been placed on top of the mahogany nightstand.
Shadows of the flower petals looked like wide jaws full of teeth. The scent of flowers drifted through the room that made Savannah sniffle.
Someone had thought to lay a brown teddy bear on the bed before she arrived. She had thrown the teddy bear across the room, where it came to rest on its head next to a closet door. The teddy bear reminded Savannah of her father. She felt sorry right after she had thrown the bear.
The bear had feelings, too, didn't it? Then she laughed at herself for thinking a toy full of stuffing could feel anything at all. She left it lying on the floor, feeling guilty whenever she looked at it.
Expensive-looking paintings hung on the wall which, in the dark, looked to Savannah like blurs of color. President Slaan preferred paintings that depicted actual people, rather than the squiggles of colors and lines she'd seen once on a museum tour. She found that she liked Kunan's paintings better.
She tried to make out the painting on the wall to her left, a wide landscape in which a man stood on the platform of a guillotine, facing away from the metal blade. She wondered what the painter had been trying to express when he put that scene on the canvas.
Though she had left the door to her room open just a crack-enough for a sliver of light to pass through-she hadn't expected it to swing open until she left the next morning. As it slowly opened, she saw Kenneth there, a blanket slung over one shoulder, his hair all askew.
He wore blue pajamas with white stripes on them. The sleeves of his pajamas hung over his hands so that he gripped everything through blue cloth.
He entered the room, and then closed the door behind him. He tiptoed quietly into the room, and upon seeing Savannah awake, stood up straight. He hadn't expected her to be awake. He asked, "Is it all right if I sleep in your room tonight? I'm...um. I'm scared of the dark."
Savannah pulled back the blankets, and shifted over to give him space on the bed. She said, "You can sleep here."
She found that, once Kenneth lay down beside her, all the thoughts that were drifting through her mind finally gave way to sleep. Deep slumber stood ready with arms wide open to hold her in its embrace. She felt Kenneth's arm holding her close to him, but couldn't tell if it was just in her dreams.
~~~~~~
The End
Into the Unknown
The Magaram Legends Part One
Journey Through Time (A Time Travel Adventure Collection Part 1) Page 21
