The Rage Room

by Lisa de Nikolits

  I nodded, shrinking back in my chair. I knew the spinning ball. What I hadn’t known was that time travel would necessitate this level of bravery, and I was beginning to have my doubts that I was the right man for the job.

  Sting Ray Bob continued. “Yeah, well, it could be like that. Trying to get stories from people about what it was actually like in displaced time is tough because memories fade fast, like bad dreams. I’ve heard it’s very grey, like being in a fog, and you feel stuck, like you can’t make anything happen. Just remember, don’t panic. Know that we’ll be working on it from this side.”

  “What was the longest they were stuck?”

  “Two days. One woman came back dehydrated and hallucinating wildly. She lost her sense of gravity. We put her in a decompression chamber for a couple of weeks and she’s fine now, although she never regained her balance. But from a data-gathering point of view, her experience was invaluable. The facts we mined were incredible, and all of them will be used to help you.”

  “How many people have time travelled?” I asked and Sting Ray looked at Jaxen.

  “Over three dozen,” Jaxen replied. He sounded like he was lying, but I couldn’t exactly call him out on it. “Any other questions?”

  “Jazza’s mother. He said she died in a rage room accident. Are you guys going to pretend you don’t know about that?”

  “All we know is that she was a pioneer in the industry,” Jaxen replied and folded his arms. Subject closed.

  “And what about Ava and her manifesto? You guys are involved with her, right? And Mother? How does it all fit in?”

  “Ah, buddy.” Jaxen looked firm. “That’s all on a need-to-know basis, and at this particular moment, you do not need to know. Above your paygrade, so to speak. Sorry, buddy. The day will come, believe me, and you will be fully looped in, but today is not that day. Any other questions pertaining to the actual jump?”

  I thought hard. “So if I go back and I do not kill my family, then I will arrive safely in my future in which my family will be alive and Jazza will be alive and so will Ava and Adwar?”

  “That is correct. Other things may be different. Jazza may have made other choices subsequent to the date on which you killed your children—who knows? And Ava too. And even Celeste. You cannot change other people’s actions, only an action of your own. So things will be different, but your children will be alive.”

  “I get it. At least I think I get it. I’ve pinpointed when I want to go back. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m getting tired of talking. Let’s do it.”

  “Not so fast, buddy boy. You still need to rest. We plan to hook you up with electrolytes and flood your system with goodies from the lab. Get rid of that headache and make you feel strong.” Jaxen was firm.

  “You’re going to drug me again?”

  “You don’t exactly have a choice but to trust us, isn’t that so? What are you going to do, run?”

  Bastard. I stood up, resigned to my fate.

  “But on the plus side,” he said cheerfully, “we’ve got a bunch of classic time travel movies for you to watch while you heal. Memento, Back to the Future, The Butterfly Effect, Sputnik’s Children. My advice would be for you to sit back and enjoy yourself while you can.”

  I half expected him to say, Interview terminated.

  I had no choice but to do exactly what he said, and I let Sting Ray Bob lead me away.

  26. THE FIRST JUMP

  IT WAS TIME TO DO THE FIRST JUMP. I was terrified, but I had to do it. It was all mapped out. I was going to go back to that fateful day when I returned to work and let Jazza and Ava take control of the PeachDiamondDelux Program. I wouldn’t sign off on anything. And I would have to find out how to make Nanny Flo stay. I’d also ferret out whatever Celeste was hiding. I hadn’t forgotten Jazza’s comment. And I wouldn’t kill Mother. Or Adwar. I’d probably still kill Ava. Nope, only joking. No killing. I’d have the whole situation under control, and I’d have my kids and my life back. Maybe it wouldn’t be perfect, but that was just fine too.

  Jaxen dropped me off at St. Drogo’s. “We’ll be waiting for you when you come back,” he said. “But in case there’s a delay, hang onto this.” He handed me my fob and a token for a Parkette, two streets north of here. I was confused. “Your car’s got money and supplies, just in case. We’ll be here, but if for any reason we’re not, go to your car and we’ll hook up there.”

  I nodded and shoved the fob in my pocket. He waved and drove off, and I was left alone. I’d been hoping he would come in with me and help see me off, but he left me. It reminded me of my first day of school when Mother marched me up to the main gates, pointed vaguely towards the gothic arched entrance, and left.

  Really, Mother? Couldn’t you have stayed to see me safely inside? The sheer terror of walking up those stairs all by myself and feeling so lost and out of place flooded my mind now, and I was that kid again.

  St. Drogo’s was filled with early morning commuters, their GrumpyCatAvatar expressions firmly in place. I flashed back to being one of them. Did I really want to go back and have to be part of the grind? I thought about what Knox had said, about winning the lottery. Was there a way I could do that? Only if I could find the winning ticket number. Hmmm. I suddenly wanted more time to think about this, but then I remembered something. I had five jumps! I didn’t have to solve world peace or my finances in this jump; all I had to do was go back and fix those pesky murders.

  And then when I was back in real time, I’d note the winning lottery ticket number, jump back, buy it, wait a week, jump into real time, and collect my winnings! Great! But that would have to wait. This jump was to clean up my mess. Hey wait, was that Shasta? I twisted around, but in their hurry to get in and out of the station the wave of annoyed commuters shoved me in between two fare collection booths. I yanked up my sleeve and bared my wrist. Okay, here goes nothing.

  The gates sprang open. I hesitated, and then I leapt through, fully expecting nothing to happen, nothing at all. I thought I’d land on the other side and have to pick a lane of those swift-moving bodies, go east or westbound, and that I’d better make it fast or the commuters behind me would mow me down.

  But I landed in my house, exactly like Sting Ray Bob had said I would. Time travel me looked down at my sleeping son. I walked past our bedroom, where Celeste was fast asleep, snoring. It was weird, doing my day on rewind, and I shook my head like a dog after a swim. I forced myself to carry on and not get distracted by how surreal it all felt. I went downstairs to say goodbye to Nanny Flo. And, once back at work, I tried to nail down Ava and Jazza in the shared office they’d set up for us. Daddy had just left, issuing his parting shot. “God helps those who help themselves,” he said. “But if you ask me, you need God’s help most of all.” He gave me a meaningful glance and left. He was right. I had the most to lose, and everyone in the room knew it. Jazza had just returned from his brain scour and he was seething. Ava was Mount Helena ready to blow. She put the silver pyramid paper weights on the desks to scramble the Board’s audio, and she and Jazza faced each other, ready to attack.

  “Guys, wait,” I said urgently. “Listen! We have to take control of this because if we don’t, we’ll all end up dead. You have to listen to me!”

  They both ignored me and started screaming. I opened my mouth to mediate, but Celeste flashed me and I had to leave. Oh shit. I’d miscalculated and wasted a bunch of days. I should only have come in after I’d deposited Celeste and Lila in their respective clinics. Now there was nothing to do but wait it out until I got to the moment when Ava brought up the program.

  The days passed with nail-biting slowness, and I finally got to the point where I could address things and make a pivotal change.

  Ava was in full spiel. “We’re going to flash ads everywhere, Sharps, on every wall and building. We’re taking over personal Crystal Path viewing. Henceforth, all content will be sponsored.
Through the viewer’s eye, the world’s going to look like a kaleidescope of logos tossed its cookies in Real Life Las Vegas, but it’ll work and we’ll generate the revenue we’ve been tasked with.”

  I stuck to my script. “You’re turning the world into a virtual catalogue? That kind of hard sell is illegal! Advertising has to be hidden, experience-driven! That’s how123BlikiWin, ClothesKissezThugs, and CrystalMeBooty worked. We never advertised directly. It was all about being in the game. Direct merch sales are banned.”

  “There are ways around things,” Ava said, as expected. “A way into allowing direct advertising onto personal devices. Your Mr. Williamson is one of the masterminds behind it. I never knew he had that kind of legal savvy. I have to admit I’m even mildly impressed. He spotted a loophole and dove right through it, opening up a whole new world. Maybe he knew it was there all along and was saving it for an ICE situation, which this admittedly is.”

  I saw my opportunity to rewrite the narrative and I jumped up. “Ava! Listen to me. We can’t do this. If we do, we’ll all die. Well, I won’t die, but I’ll kill you.”

  She burst out laughing. “Yeah? In your dreams.” Even Jazza laughed at me.

  “Seriously guys, it’s true,” I insisted. “Ava, you want Jazza to steal money for your army so you can change the world. You want to pin it on me. And believe me, the consequences are disastrous. You guys can’t do this. And you’re in love, even if you won’t admit it to yourselves.”

  “Now you’ve really lost your mind,” Ava spat out, although Jazza perked up when I mentioned mutual love. Ava slammed her hand on the desk, and I jumped.

  “Listen to me, Sharps, you insignificant little shit, sit the fuck down. Never, ever mention words like ‘army’ in here, even with our decrypting devices. If you do, we’ll all end up on the Farms, never mind the Sheds. Do you hear me? The fucking farms! Forced labour, drugged.”

  She looked over at Jazza. “I did believe we had something,” she said softly, and Jazza melted. That was when I knew she was playing him.

  “Don’t believe her!” I yelled. “She just wants you on board with her and not me! She’ll say anything to make you do what she wants! But you’ll end up dead!”

  Ava walked up to Jazza and put her hand on his shoulder. “You know me better than that. Yes, I was angry, but I understand. Sharps is an idiot, but he is right. We’re in love.”

  “Don’t believe her! She’s lying! She’s playing you!”

  “But you said it first!” Jazza was torn. His massive bloodhound face swung from me to Ava and back. “I’m not listening to either of you right now. I’m going to work on the plan. And Sharps, Ava’s right, shut the fuck up or we’ll end up on the Farm.”

  He sat down, and I could see his expression was lighter. He believed her. He’d do anything she wanted. If anything, I’d made things worse. He was more sucked into her honeytrap than ever.

  I looked down at my wrist. I could see the tiny node of the implant and the faint scar from where it was placed. I was trying to change my life. I was trying to change my future, all our futures. Why wasn’t this going more easily?

  “Okay,” I immediately replied. “You guys are right. Sorry. I panicked, okay?” I held my hands up in agreement. “My bad. Give me my homework. But,” I added firmly, “I’m not signing off on any shit I don’t understand.”

  They both cracked up laughing. “Sharps,” Ava said kindly, “when the fuck have you ever understood anything? You’ll sign where we tell you to.”

  To my credit, I tried to really figure out what the PeachDiamondDelux Program was about. Something to do with hacking into the users of our other programs and creating bots to send them individualized shopping plans with bonus incentives. The bots would access the users’ bank accounts to see where they shopped the most. I wondered what the Union of Ethics and Trustworthy Communications, the UETC, would have to say about that. But Ava had mentioned that Daddy was the one behind the loophole, so the whole thing must be legal or it wouldn’t be happening.

  Yeah, I knew that was me being naïve and stupid. So that’s how Jazza ripped off so much money. He not only stole from the company, he stole from the users too. Wrong on so many levels.

  I grabbed a portable comm and went to a shared space filled with VendaRipple dispensers and cheerful jellybean-coloured plastic sofas. I sat down on a teal sofa in the corner and tried to figure out what to do.

  This program, and Jazza and Ava, were the dominos that made the whole house of cards of my life come crashing down. So far I had proven two things: I couldn’t stop Jazza and I couldn’t stop the program. So, what could I do? The only thing I could do was let it move forward, and then, on the day in question, not kill Ava, not kill Adwar, and, when Jazza left his suicide note, let it fall on him. I’d have to wait to go back to the future and come back on the day of the killings and pin the whole thing on Jazza, and obviously, I wouldn’t kill anyone.

  Yeah, I’d still take the fall for signing off on the money, but at least I’d have my family. I wouldn’t have a job, but I’d win the lottery later, wouldn’t I? I had to let things roll as they were. I’d thought I could cut Jazza off at the pass, but I couldn’t.

  What if I resigned now? But I wouldn’t find another job. There were no other jobs. Shed jobs were minimum wage and I couldn’t afford that.

  “Making lists?” A voice spoke behind my ear. Startled, I inadvertently let out a little scream.

  It was Daddy. I leapt up, clutching the comm to my chest. “Daddy! I mean Mr. Williamson! So good to see you, sir! Listen, sorry to trouble you, but do you have a moment?”

  “Not really, son. I’m off to a meeting of the Sky Trust. Can’t keep them waiting. Saw you sitting here, and I just wanted to say hello and see how things were going.”

  “Not well, sir,” I blurted out. “I need to be reassigned, sir. Ava’s gunning for us both, sir, and we can’t win. Trust me, we’ll end up losing everything. Jazza can’t be part of the project, because he’ll do anything Ava wants. I’m worried that, because I don’t understand the specifics and they want me to sign off on it, I’ll be the fall guy and so will you. You’ve got no idea how much Ava hates you.”

  Daddy looked at me. “Calm down, son. Walk me to the elevator.”

  I followed him, and he pushed the button. “Sharps, my boy, you need to calm down. Jazza and Ava have looped me in. The PeachDiamondDelux Program is sound. All you need to do is sign where they tell you to, do you see? You’re our front man, which is how I keep a roof over your and Celeste’s head. I’m very fond you, my boy, you know that, but you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, har har! I’ve wanted to use that joke for a while, but I never wanted to hurt your feelings, but there it is. You’re a good husband to my Celly, and Bax is a gem. And we’ve got a new kiddie set up to bake. But son, where do you think you’re going to get another job like this? Or a woman like Celly? She’s high maintenance. Which means you need to step up even more. She’s costing me a bundle and Mummy’s set her sights on a condo in Real Life Florida, so I’ve got my own problems. You need this job, and it’s a good one. You need to keep Celly on the straight and narrow. That’s your job, my boy.”

  “But Ava and the kiddies and Jazza end up dead!”

  Daddy looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Sharps, coming back to work has clearly involved some trauma for you. Listen, son, no one’s going to die. I’ve seen the program. It’s all sound. Run with it! Run hard!”

  Oh shit.

  I cast around for something else to say, but the elevator arrived and Daddy held the door open. “Son,” he said, resting a big hand heavily on my shoulder, “you’ve been given a goose that lays the golden egg. Just let it do its job and you do yours. Simple. We’ll not have any more of this hysteria, roger that?”

  “Roger that,” I echoed as the door closed, my enthusiasm pale and wintry. So much for my big bold idea of trying to
save my world.

  I went to the men’s room, shut myself in a cubicle, and put my head in my hands.

  There had to be another way. But what? I couldn’t exactly kill Ava or Jazza now. Besides, I wasn’t a homicidal maniac. I had to figure out a peaceful solution. But what? I was trapped. Fine. I’d let the rest of the week run its course, then I’d come back and let Jazza take the fall.

  I was a little annoyed that Daddy saw me so clearly. I’d thought I had him fooled. I’d hoped he thought I was more impressive than that, but clearly not. The only fool in all of this was me. But I’d still do what I could to find out about Celeste’s secrets and Nanny Flo’s family.

  I went back to my desk, but I couldn’t concentrate on the remaining thousand documents outlining the program. I was supposed to read all of it? I groaned out loud. It wasn’t even three in the afternoon, and I was bored out of my mind.

  I messaged Nanny Flo for the seventh time.

  Bax okay?

  All good, Mr Sharps!

  I drummed my fingers on the desk. Across from me, Ava and Jazza were working closely. She was practically sitting in his lap. It made me want to throw up. She was playing him more than ever, and I only had myself to blame. Why hadn’t I figured things out better? I could have gotten him onside. Because I had no proof of anything, that’s why. I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  I got up. I needed to vent. So to the rage room I went.

  27. TRYING TO MAKE ALTERNATIVE PLANS

  I HEADED FOR THE NEAREST RAGE ROOM to thrash the shit out of crap. And yet my mood didn’t improve.