Redemption: Supernatural Time-Traveling Romance with Sci-fi and Metaphysics

by Jacklyn A. Lo

  As he finished, Ann found herself at the traffic lights in question and looked in each direction. “So what difference does it make to me in the course of my life stream if I choose now to go right or left?”

  “Well, as far as your soul is concerned—that being the part of you that goes from life to life throughout your spiritual existence—it’s not so much about right or left as it is about good or evil,” said Rob. “However,” he added, with a wink, “turning right would bring us to the supermarket almost 5 minutes quicker than turning left.”

  “Thanks,” said Ann, pulling away to the right. “Carry on. What difference does good and evil make to my soul, then?”

  “This is where Nirvana comes in. By choosing what is good, your soul is enlarged, progressing towards enlightenment and ultimate redemption. But when you choose evil instead, your soul becomes darker, heavier, heading deeper into the gloom of brutality.”

  Ann turned the car into the parking lot and eased it into a space. Switching off the engine, she picked up the E-A device to give Rob her full attention. “It sounds like we’re talking more about spiritual choices, rather than deciding which way to head to the shops?”

  “Quite,” said Rob, his screen rippling as he took on his usual form.

  “So what effect do these spiritual choices have on a person in a material sense?”

  “My sources tell me that as you progress towards enlightenment, by making choices for good, your eyes are more open, able to see things which you would never have noticed before. You gain a greater understanding, broader insight, even a heightened ability to see what is good and evil, and so to be more able to make the right choices. On the other hand, choosing darkness affects every area of a person’s life for the worse. Their insight is narrowed, their horizons are lowered, and their capacity for vision and creativity are diminished.”

  “So making the right choices is pretty important!” said Ann. “So how can I ensure I don’t end up making the wrong decision?”

  “There are various opinions on this matter. Some say the most important thing is to create personal values for yourself. Another is simply to be sensitive to yourself; listen to your true self.”

  Ann raised her eyebrows. “Well, that may sound simple to you, Rob, but I wouldn’t even know where to start!”

  “My research suggests it may be simpler than you think, my lady. Take the time for solitude and silence, getting away from the noise of other people and constant drone of the media. Then you can consider your choices more clearly.”

  Ann considered this, and couldn’t remember the last time she was ever really quiet or still. “Interesting,” she said. “I’ll have to give that a shot sometime.”

  “Not right now though,” said Rob, his face fading from the screen. “You have a call.”

  “Ann!” It was Tomo. “What are you doing at the moment?”

  “Just going shopping,” said Ann, pointing to the supermarket, despite the fact Tomo couldn’t see it from the camera.

  “I need to see you. Come and meet me at Café Sky.”

  Ann was taken aback slightly by the urgency in his voice. “What, now?”

  “Yes, now. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “But I’m—” she began, but the screen went blank. Tomo had gone.

  What on earth could be wrong with Tomo? Ann thought to herself as she pulled her car up at the sidewalk and headed towards the Café Sky. Has something happened to him? Has he been fired? That would be terrible news, indeed, after the amazing work he’s done on the 3D imaging for the E-A device. Something strange certainly seemed to be going on.

  She pushed open the café door and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the subdued lighting inside. Above her, the café’s domed roof was emblazoned with a panorama of the night sky. Stars twinkled in familiar patterns and, in the center, a full moon glowed with cold, white light. Even as Ann watched it, the display began to change as the black sheet of night shifted through shades of blue, dark to light, until it reached the blue of a summer day, the stars replaced by small, fluffy clouds, the moon by the fierce face of the sun.

  A movement across the café caught her eye and Ann dropped her gaze to see Tomo waving at her. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, sharp and black. A smart tie emerged from beneath the starched, white collar of his shirt and he had a black fedora perched on his head that cast a shadow across his eyes. Somehow, all these odd items of clothing suited him very well and Ann once again considered how attractive Tomo was. But the whole effect was pretty bizarre, the sort that Ann had rarely ever seen outside of an old photograph.

  “What’s this, a fancy dress party?” she said, walking up to his table. “Even lawyers stopped wearing ties years ago. And as for that weird hat… did you join an amateur dramatics group or something?”

  Tomo looked completely unfazed by her playful sarcasm and leaned back in his chair smiling at her as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Or something,” he said with an easy smile. “I like to dress appropriately for the occasion, and today is a very special day! Please sit down.”

  Ann took the other seat at the table and looked at him over interlaced fingers. “So what’s the big rush?”

  “This!” said Tomo, placing what looked to Ann like a slim version of Linda’s E-Panel on the table.

  “Okay.” Ann frowned, unsure what to make of it. “So what?”

  In answer to her question, a hologram appeared in the air between them. It was a head and, to Ann’s amazement, she realized it was Rob. It smiled at her and it looked so real that she found herself pushing her chair back slightly, finding the head a little creepy.

  She peered around it to look at Tomo. “This is… incredible! Is this a hologram version of the E-Assistant? You kept this quiet.”

  “I wanted to wait until it was just right,” he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “I was thinking this would make a nice upgrade to the thing. Watch this.” He tapped the device on the table and Ann stared in wonder as Rob’s head bobbed off across the restaurant, peeping behind the counter where the barista was busy making coffee, then zooming behind a plant before swinging back to hover over the table again.

  “It’s not tethered to the device,” Tomo explained. “In fact, it can move up to a hundred meters from it in any direction.”

  “Really?” She laughed as she thought of Rob’s head bursting through the wall of a dark alley and scaring the people walking along it. “We would have to change the terms and conditions for our users!”

  Tomo tapped the device again and the head vanished. “So you like it then?”

  “Tomo, I love it!” said Ann, the fascination clear on her face. “You’re fantastic.”

  “Thank you. You’re pretty amazing yourself!” he said and leant forward to stare into her eyes. “So, have I made you happy?”

  Ann considered this. She was certainly excited about what this meant for the E-A device and proud of Tomo’s work. But, happy? Her thoughts turned again to Michael—to his attentive eyes, his light hair, his gentle touch. She sighed.

  “I’m proud of you, Tomo. This is going to be great for our business.”

  “I reckon so,” he said, slipping the device back into his bag and taking out something, which Ann couldn’t quite make out. “Though it’s only a prototype at the moment. It hasn’t gone through beta testing yet.”

  “But all the same, it’s years ahead of any of our competitors. It was certainly worth rushing here for!”

  “But it’s not the only reason I asked you to see me, Ann.” He gave her a mysterious look as he opened his hands to reveal a small pretty box, placing it carefully on the table and sliding it towards Ann. “I wanted to give you something else as well.”

  “What’s in here?” she asked with a smile, picking it up. “Another floating head? A real genie, maybe?” Inside there was a gorgeous ring on which was set a heart-shaped pink ruby encrusted with small diamonds. Wow, she thought. It’s gorgeous! It
reminds me of the gift from King Louis, and it’s probably worth just as much! It doesn’t have a portrait hidden inside though. Ann tore her eyes off it to look back at Tomo. “What is this?”

  “A ring,” he said, the mysterious look still on his face. Ann felt a blush creeping up her face and was glad to see that the café ceiling was now displaying a sunset, bathing everything in its deep, red glow. Somehow, Tomo still managed to look cool, even nonchalant, as though they were discussing nothing more than the weather or what they each had for dinner the previous evening.

  Ann took a deep breath, pulling herself together, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Yes, I know it’s a ring…”

  Tomo leaned forward again, his eyes gazing intensely into hers. “It’s an engagement ring.”

  “Wow!” She raised her eyebrows in surprise, sitting further back in her chair. “And it’s a beautiful one. Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “That would be you, Ann.”

  Ann blinked, stunned for a moment, unable to take it in. “Me? But…” She looked at the ring again. It was so elegant and looked exactly her size, and the temptation to put it on her finger was almost overwhelming. Maybe Nina was right, she thought. Maybe my haunting dreams are just a side effect of loneliness. And Tomo is a great guy, a genius in his field. It would be so simple to just put the ring on, dissolve in the warmth of Tomo’s hand and forget all about this spiritual stuff. That would be nice, like when I’m with Michael… Michael! If I choose Tomo, how can I be with Michael? What was Rob saying about making choices? We have to make a right choice in order not to be robotic?’

  “Try it on, Ann.” Tomo’s voice snapped her out of her contemplation.

  Watching the ruby heart glistening in the rays of the rising sun, Ann was anxiously thinking. And how about my own heart? Isn’t it fulfilled by love with Michael? Can I accept Tomo, and just throw away my feelings for Michael? No! So long as I have a gleam of hope, even at the expense of my terrible loneliness, I will wait for Michael’s love.

  “No,” said Ann decidedly, looking straight into Tomo’s astonished eyes. “No.”

  Her colleague’s face fell and Ann realized she had never seen him looking sad before. She reached out and placed a hand gently on his.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, as he met her eyes again. “I can’t. But thank you. Thank you for everything, Tomo.” And with that she stood up and left the cafe.

  ~

  Back in her car, Ann found all those unhelpful thoughts flooding back, cluttering up her mind and filling her with anxiety. What do I do? She wondered as she buried her head in her hands. How has everything gotten so complicated? If only things were clearer with Michael, but I don’t know what his real intentions are.

  “What should I do?” she said aloud.

  “Well, there’s still the shopping to do,” said Rob helpfully, appearing as normal on the screen of the E-A device.

  “Forget the shopping, Rob!” said Ann, sitting up as she made her decision. “We’re going back to the psychic’s house!”

  Smolensk, Russia. July 1942

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She bursts awake as an explosion rips through a nearby building. She’s enveloped in a cloud of dust and a shower of stone. Coughing, she brushes the dirt off her clothes and looks around the narrow trench. Close by, a young woman rocks back and forth on her heels, her arms wrapped around her knees.

  “Katya!” she shouts, shaking the woman by the shoulder. “Katya! Are you okay?”

  Katya looks up, her face confused for a moment. She tries to focus. “They told us the Germans wouldn’t come here today,” she says at last. “They told us! Why are they here, Lena? Why are they attacking us today? We aren’t prepared at all!”

  “I don’t know. I guess. . .” She pauses as another shell lands a street away, tearing through walls and shaking the ground. As the echoes die away she shakes more dust and earth from her hair and tries not to listen to the screams of the injured. “I guess the Germans changed their mind. They are ruled by a madman, after all, and unpredictability is his main weapon.”

  “We have to get a radio transceiver,” says Katya. “We need to contact command about the attack.”

  Lena helps Katya to her feet and together they peer over the edge of the trench. “The transceiver should be in there,” she says, pointing to a canopy around a hundred meters away. “That’s where it’s supposed to be kept. Come on!”

  Together they scramble out of the trench, dirt and blood staining their uniforms. To the right, the ground is littered with the dead and dying, victims of the bombing that hammered those nearby with a lethal blast of bricks and splintered wood. Scrabbling over the rubble they head towards the canopy. Katya slips and catches hold of an arm only to find out there is no body attached to it, and Elena stumbles across a young girl lying on half a door, her face spattered with blood, her breathing quick and shallow.

  “Hey, you!” calls Elena, catching sight of a nurse huddling behind a nearby wall. “Get over here and help this girl. She’s wounded, damn it!”

  Eventually she and Katya reach the canopy where a small trestle table has been set up. On it there sits a radio transceiver.

  “Here it is!” she says, hurrying over to it. Katya joins her and throws the switch to power it up. There is nothing. No sound comes from the radio, not even the faintest crackle of static. Nothing.

  “I can’t get it to work!” says Katya with disappointment, her voice close to panic. Elena heaves up the radio and shakes it.

  “Fuck!” she says at the sound of broken glass rattling inside the machine. I don’t believe it!” She never used to utter such filthy curses back at home, before this terrible conflict started. Her parents would never have allowed it. But she has been using increasingly worse language in recent months, both in Russian and English, as long as no one else is around, since it would be dangerous to reveal knowledge of her native language. The words have power. They may not be polite, but they help, and war is no place for civility or genteel maidens, just as it is evidently no place for glass tubes! “This is so bloody typical of the equipment we get dumped with. No wonder the Germans are trampling all over us.” She curses again, under her breath, furious with the Soviet leadership and their cavalier attitude toward their troops.

  A young sergeant, barely old enough to shave, hurries into the canopy. When he catches sight of Elena, he stops and salutes.

  Oh hell, she thinks, looking at his smooth features. What is this kid? Sixteen? Seventeen? We’re trying fight off the Germans with children and broken glass. Another shell strikes, this time only fifteen meters down the street, showering the canopy in stones and dust. They duck for cover, but the canopy holds and the next shell hits several blocks away.

  “It’s busted!” says the sergeant, pointing at the radio.

  “Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Elena replies, the anger evident in her voice. “The bloody tubes have blown. Why wasn’t this equipment checked and serviced?”

  He shrugs and gestures to the carnage around them. “It’s the bombing. The glass bulbs can’t take the shock. It’s the same with the spares. There’s not a single one here intact.”

  “What are we going to do?” asks Katya frantically. “We have to get to a radio! We have to inform command.”

  “There is another radio,” says the sergeant. “Without glass tubes.”

  Elena looks around at the empty area. “Where the hell is it, then?”

  “One kilometer from here, give or take.” He turns to point across the city. “That way.”

  As she turns to see the direction he is indicating, she catches sight of another young soldier running across the square towards the canopy. Just then, the ground shakes as a bomb rips apart a building to the left, spewing rubble across the square. What appears to be an iron bathtub rockets through the air, striking the runner in the shoulder and knocking him to the ground. Blood pumps from where his head and arm used to be. Elena stares in horror. This is a nightmare! Can
we possibly survive a thousand-meter-long dash across the city? Looking back at the broken radio she realizes there is no other option. We have to try!

  As if to confirm her decision, the German artillery shifts its focus and the sound of the bombs grows distant.

  She turns to the sergeant. “How long do you reckon we’ve got before they start shelling us again?”

  “Who knows?” he says with a shrug. “Who can predict what these bastards are going to do next?”

  “And who knows when we’ll get a better chance than this?” She stops a moment, listening to the sounds of destruction moving steadily away from their position. “Okay,” she says. “We’re going to risk it and try to get to that radio. Will you help us, sergeant?” It is not so much a request as a command and he follows her and Katya out of the canopy without a word, ducking as they embark on the terrifyingly long kilometer towards their goal.

  Fifteen streets separate them from the radio station and each one is littered with rubble, with the dying and the dead. In one of them, Elena sees a small girl, barely two years old, sitting on the steps of a house, crying loudly as she grips the blood-spattered arm of her dead mother. In another, a wall lies across the thoroughfare and, as she and her companions clamber over it, she notices a single leg sticking out from beneath the broken brickwork. As they scurry through the city, their progress is marked by the constant rhythm of the German artillery, sometimes in a distant street, sometimes much closer.