by Various
Brad smiled sadly at the man. “I love you, Dad.”
His father smiled broadly. “I love you too, son.”
His dad walked down the hall and disappeared from sight.
Brad watched until the man was gone and he heard the bathroom door lock behind him. Sighing heavily, Brad pulled back his sleeve, exposing a bulky watch. He pressed the screen of the watch, and it blinked angrily in the cramped kitchen.
“TimeCorps, this is Barbara,” a woman’s voice floated through the room.
“This is Mr. Green,” Brad said softly into the watch. “I’m ready for extraction.”
“Very well, Mr. Green,” the disembodied voice replied. “Please stand clear of the doorway.”
The edges of the kitchen archway hummed with power. Blue light bled from the edges of the doorway, reaching like fingers toward the center of the empty space. The tendrils of energy merged and spun, leaving a twisting iris in the center of the archway.
Glancing through the iris to the empty living room beyond, Brad smiled and wiped his eyes before stepping through the portal.
“Relax, Mr. Green,” a voice demanded as Brad rocked unsteadily on his feet. “The time jump can be disorienting. The discomfort will pass momentarily.”
The sense of vertigo receded, leaving only the ache of loss in Brad’s chest in its wake.
As his vision cleared, Brad looked around the sterilized metal cylinder. A pressurized door was closed and sealed to his left. The air still smelled of burnt ozone, and each breath tingled in the back of his throat.
“I hope your farewell was satisfactory?” the travel counselor’s voice asked through speakers embedded in the walls.
Brad nodded, remembering the feel of embracing his father one last time. “I was in Hong Kong when he had his heart attack. This is exactly what I needed, thank you.”
“There are grief counselors on hand if you feel the need to speak with one over your loss. Going through this experience can often reopen wounds we thought we’d dealt with years ago.”
Brad shook his head, knowing the cameras in the ceiling would see the movement. “It’s been five years since he died. I’ve come to terms with his loss. I… I just had to see him one last time.”
For the briefest moment, there was silence. Brad wondered if they could detect his elevated heartbeat and sweaty palms. No matter how stoic he tried to be, seeing his father again brought back a flood of painful emotions.
“Your account has been charged. Your wife is waiting for you when you feel sufficiently recovered. We thank you for your business.”
“Thank you. Tell Katheryn that I’ll be out in a moment.”
If you enjoyed, It's the Little Things, we recommend you check out Wind Warrior by: Jon Messenger.
“It will only sting for the first few seconds, and then you will feel really cold,” the man said, tightening the strap around my waist.
I’d anticipated this moment for as long as I could remember, and now that it was here, all I could think about was how tightly the cocoon hugged my body. I tried to recite all the promises they’d fed us from childhood as he systematically strapped down my arms and then my legs. Adventure, pure knowledge and intelligence, a chance to change the world, our own way to leave a legacy…
My mom squeezed my forearm. “Just think, you could go anywhere, anytime. What you will see will be glorious. You can help humanity. Help us avoid catastrophic mistakes.”
I wasn’t sure if the words were for me or to reassure herself.
“I know, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile, which was probably blocked by the man pushing my forehead down. A wave of claustrophobia washed over me as my head was smashed between two foam pieces. I tried to ignore the rising panic.
“You won’t be gone long, and when you come back, we will celebrate. I’ll make your favorite coconut cake,” my mom said, her words muffled but still distinguishable. Though her lips were curled into a smile, her eyes told another story.
I blinked, trying to block the fear I saw in them.
“Sounds good.” My words echoed in my head.
She glanced at the man, who was now down by my feet. The other technicians were distracted, their backs turned to us as they punched in the launch-code sequence. I knew enough of the process to know once everything was set, I’d be alone in this room.
My mom leaned closer. “I wish you dad could have seen you. He’d be so proud.”
“Me too,” I said, though my dad was nothing more than a dream to me. A ghost who’d made my mom and I famous.
Having been the chief engineer and nuclear scientist behind the Hahn Space Program, he’d volunteered to be the first launch subject. To test the theory. To forge into time and space. His cohorts had talked him into adding two eighteen-year-olds to the initial launch. The teenagers returned unharmed. My dad, on the other hand, did not.
In the seventeen years the Hahn Space Program had been launching eighteen-year-olds into time, not one had been lost.
“At least we know his life wasn’t in vain,” she mumbled so low I could barely make out her words.
“Yes,” was all I could say before the technician interrupted.
“We are all set. Mrs. Hahn, time to say your farewells. Once I start the IV, the launch sequence will begin counting down.”
“Yes, of course,” she nodded and then leaned over me. “I love you, Tabitha. Don’t ever forget that. When you get there, take everything in quickly. Trust yourself. You’ll know what to do. Gather up everything you can, and then return to the cocoon. I’ll be here waiting for you to come home.”
Being an only child, I was all my mom had. I inhaled deeply. Everything’s going to be fine. The program’s foolproof. Everyone went out on their eighteenth birthday, and they all returned a year later with information to share to make our society stronger. It was my dad’s vision. The legacy he left behind. Now it’s my turn to do my part.
“I love you, too,” I said as she leaned down to kiss my forehead.
She tried to hide the tears, but I saw them anyway as she was ushered from the room.
I swallowed back my own tears as a pang of loneliness engulfed me. This was something I needed to do. If I didn’t, I’d be an outcast, even with my family’s legacy. I had to do it for my dad—a person I didn’t remember but loved anyway. I really had to do it for my mom—how would it look if Charles Hahn’s own daughter didn’t serve her time?
I gasped as the small sting I’d been promised turned out to be a searing pain. The one truth the man had spoken was it didn’t last long before turning to what felt like ice water being shot through my veins. When it hit my throat, I shut my eyes. The roar of the engines below my body made my whole frame vibrate. Suddenly, I was grateful for the tightness of the cocoon. It muffled me from the world, holding my adrenaline-shaking body in place. I glanced out only once more when I heard the top casing snap into place. Totally enclosed, the elongated, egg-shaped cocoon would take me to my destiny.
Why my dad thought we couldn’t know the when and where we were heading was beyond me. What harm could it do? I wasn’t sure if I feared the past or the future more. My friend Tommy’s experience in the Jurassic terrified me. Still, it made for some good stories.
Wonder what stories I’ll be telling my friends? It was my last coherent thought before the drugs took effect and I succumbed to the deep sleep.
***
I groaned at the annoying beeping in my ear. Did I forget to turn off my alarm again? Trying to roll over to smack the dang thing, I panicked at my inability to move. My eyes flew open as the last threads of deep sleep dissipated.
My mission! I’m here…
I tried to remember how I’d been instructed to open the cocoon.
“This is Tabitha Hahn, requesting permission to embark on my launch mission.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears.
Nothing happened. Should I try again?
A crack resounded, followed by the groan of gears shifting into motion. A thin, film-like
material webbed across my face as my gas mask secured itself. Can’t risk landing somewhere without oxygen and not being prepared.
As the cocoon’s cover lifted, the straps securing me unlatched themselves, and like slithering snakes, slunk away. The foam core melded into the cocoon, leaving me free to move as I waited on the lid to finish opening. I’d worn the gas mask in simulations, but knowing this was the real thing, I turned my neck both ways, making sure the webbing moved with me. Glancing up, I squinted at the bright light. The cocoon’s gears hissed, releasing billows of steam. I coughed, shielding my eyes, almost scared to see what lay just beyond.
Suddenly, the whole genius of my dad’s plan seemed totally ludicrous. Who in their right mind sends teens out into space and time? Even if it’s only for one day… we are still completely alone, with no idea of what we’ll face. It’s not like I’m armed with a real weapon. I glanced down at the small, black cylinder attached to my hip, knowing the pathetic Taser didn’t stand a chance against real artillery. Granted, I wore the program-issued suit, which was engineered to protect my body from all sorts of elements, but it wouldn’t stop me from being eaten by a dinosaur or the thousands of other strange creatures encountered through the years.
I stared out into the space before me, my eyes finally adjusting to the sudden brightness. All I saw were trees with swaying branches and grassy knolls surrounding them. I could even make out what looked like daffodils. Possibly Earth. Earth I could handle. At least, I hoped.
Now, next question, when am I? Was it the 140th century or the 18th? Or was I going to be swapping horror stories with Tommy? Please no dinosaurs.
I took a steadying breath and extended one leg. My foot landed with a crunch as I climbed down. I glanced one last time at my cocoon, happy to see it camouflage itself into its surroundings. I made a mental note of the markers around it—I’d need to find it again.
With a deep breath, I glanced down at my suit. Two pinhead-sized, red lights blinked back at me. One signified the suit was now recording my every move—making my own, personal mission video to be watched, evaluated, and studied by everyone back home.
The other, a clock, counted down my twenty-four hours. When the time was up, it’d turn green. Then I can go home. I fingered the camcorder light. It wouldn’t take much to pop it off. Then, no one would know I sat and hid, wasting my one chance to improve humanity.
I squared my shoulders. I’m not a coward. Might as well make my kiss of time count.
My mom told me my dad had dubbed the launch missions “kisses of time.” Being gone twenty-four hours meant losing one year back home. Not long enough to ruin anyone’s life, but just long enough to gather useful information.
“Here’s to my kiss,” I mumbled under my breath, the word itself making my insides squirm. I was the only eighteen-year-old I knew that hadn’t been kissed for real. My mom said boys were just intimated by me. Doubt that.
I shook my head; I needed to focus on my surroundings. I’d been wandering for a few minutes, but so far, I’d seen nothing but vegetation—useful for gathering information and usually safe, unless you landed somewhere fraught with deadly, hissing plants like my friend Paige had.
I pulled out my extractor, running the black probe along the surfaces I’d passed. So far, all the samples I’d gathered matched Earth’s geography. So far so good.
Reaching a clearing, I stopped short. Before me lay large fields. Back home, trees, grass, and wildflowers were in abundance, as were crop fields and vegetable gardens, but they never yielded more than beauty. I dropped to my knees to get a closer look at something I’d never seen before—long, thin fruit dangling from the stems.
World-renowned scientists were at a loss as to why our plants had stopped producing fruit. It was one of the problems my dad had wanted to fix. At least, that was what I’d been told in school since I was five.
Now, here was actual fruit. I recognized the plant from my studies, but the name escaped me. I gingerly touched one. It was firmer than I’d expected. I let it go, watching it bounce gently back into place.
I didn’t waste any more time, running my extractor along the plant’s beans, leaves, and stems. The lean, black tool beeped softly, recording data to bring back home. I probed the soil next. Maybe this was what you were looking for, Dad…
I felt the impact before I had a chance to react. My body soared to the ground, my face landing in the dirt, sliding to a stop. My hand shot to my hip, grabbing the Taser, readying myself to go on the defensive. After the initial shock of being plowed down, I identified the thing on me as human by the feeling of knees digging into my back and hands trying to secure my arms.
I didn’t wait to ask questions; I reached back, straining my shoulder, and shoved my Taser into the person’s kneecap. The mangled cry I heard identified my attacker as masculine. Not wanting to wait for him to regain his balance, I rolled around, kicking his still-lingering body off of me.
I heard his grunt of surprise as he struggled to his knees, trying to stand. I jumped to my feet, ready to deliver a roundhouse to his skull while he was down. It’d be so easy, and it would render him a non-threat. Though my training had kicked in, the fact he wore no protective headgear jarred me. This wasn’t just a simulation, and seeing him momentarily defenseless made me hesitate. I swiped at my field of vision, trying to clear the dirt off my gas mask. Realizing nothing covered the guy’s face, I pressed the release button on my mask, and it melded back into my suit.
I should strike him now. I prepared myself, arms up and ready, yet I didn’t move. He was slow to his feet, but I sickened as he rose. He’s huge! Why didn’t I take him when he was down? My only advantage lay in my speed. And the fact he hadn’t expected me to fight back. Which I’ve now lost.
But he didn’t attack, either; instead, we eyed each other as he rubbed his thigh with one hand. Getting a better look at his facial features, I decided he was probably only a few years older than me. Assuming the people of this time period aged at the same rate we did.
I found myself momentarily taken by the deepness of his brown eyes. What’s wrong with me? Who cares if he’s attractive? I should have kicked him in the head when I had the chance.
“You’re human,” he said, his voice surprisingly devoid of any accent.
I stared at him. “As are you. What year is this?”
He took in my raised hands but didn’t seem to be calculating a way to take me down, which made no sense. After all, he had been the one to attack me. What’s he waiting for now?
“Year?” he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re the ones who have questions for you, starting with how did you get in here?”
“We?” I swept my eyes up and down, noticing his suit. Looks military. My senses kicked into high alert as I surveyed the area. At least I saw them coming this time—four more wearing similar suits. They ran straight for me, my Taser only connecting with one before I was smashed to the ground and handcuffed.
“Couldn’t even handle a tiny girl?” one of the soldiers with bright red hair taunted, shoving the man who’d first accosted me. “Give you your first mission, and you stop to flirt.”
They hefted me to my feet and shoved me toward the brown-eyed guy. “Here, see if you can control her now.”
There were snickers and catcalls by the others as the guy grabbed my arm and said, “Come on.”
He pushed me forward, trying to get me to cooperate. I pretended to go along with it as I calculated my attack steps to take each one out, like I’d done in simulations. A jolt of heat roared up my back. I seized up, shaking uncontrollably.
“What did you do that for?” the guy shouted at the redhead, withdrawing his hand from me.
“She’s about to eat you for lunch,” the redhead barked back. “Learn to recognize a trained soldier, Bryce. I don’t care how hot she is.”
I wanted to fight back, but everything went black as my legs turned to mush underneath me.
***
I didn’t
know what to expect when I came to, but a gray-walled interrogation room was almost a relief. First thing I checked was my flashing red light. Not green. Good. Same day still.
With shackled wrists and ankles, I tried to sit up straighter in the hard-backed chair I was tied to. No one sat across from me at the metal table I was pressed up against. I glanced around, thinking it odd they didn’t disguise the window straight ahead of me. Then again, everyone knows two-way mirrors are just that—two-way.
The clear glass did allow me to see who was watching me, however. Two men in white lab coats—one much older than the other, with snow-white hair and beard and the other probably in his mid- to late-thirties if I were to guess. His glasses kept reflecting back light when he looked my way, making him appear less human somehow. They had no qualms about staring at me while talking amongst themselves.
I glanced around, still trying to place what century I’d landed in. The fact that the soldiers had spoken English led me to believe I was probably in North America, and by the feel of the electric shock I’d received, we were no earlier than the 21st century. Considering all the places and times I could have gone, this was good news to me.
A door opened in the corner, and to my surprise, Bryce entered. He didn’t make eye contact as he grabbed hold of the chair opposite me and sat down. He whipped out a notebook and slapped it down on the table.
The sound made me jump.
“What’s your name?” he asked, finally glancing up at me.
I hesitated, then decided my best chance of getting out of here was to play nice. “Tabitha Hahn.”
He didn’t write down my response but instead cast a glance over his shoulder at the two in lab coats. They wrote something on their clipboard and then nodded at Bryce to continue.
He stared back at me. “Tabitha Hahn, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Ever go by Tabby?”
I glared at him. “No. I’m not a cat.”
There was a hint of a smile playing at his mouth. “Could have fooled me out there today.”
Not sure what to make of his offhanded comment, I asked, “Where am I?”
