by Ike Hamill
He’s typing quickly as he speaks. He’s going back through the logs to see what I’ve done.
He won’t figure it out.
“Shit,” Arthur says. He turns to the bear. “He rolled back the upgrades to the containment module.”
“Big deal,” the bear says. “The system won’t rebuild a module to replace it with non-working code. He’s the one who implemented that safety measure.” He points a paw at me.
He’s right, in a way. The system is careful to accept no new code that hasn’t been tested and approved. Either by mistake or attack, we anticipated a circumstance where we would need to reject bad code. That rule won’t apply to my changes. I haven’t submitted a change, or tried to inject new logic. All I did was roll back one key file. The system won’t reject my change because it was previously approved by me. My rollback will slip right into place.
That assumes that the bear doesn’t figure it out and put a stop to my rollback before it can be compiled.
I see it written in his eyes. He’s trying to deduce my scheme. He knows that I wouldn’t have made a stupid mistake, like entering in a change which would be rejected. He must figure that I have a different idea. I can’t let him reach the logical conclusion—I need a distraction.
“So, which is it? Do you like the pinups of women or bears?” I ask.
He cocks his head as he stares at me. He’s distracted, but not completely. The bear is thinking too hard. He must realize that my question was intended as a distraction, and it’s making him work the problem more frantically.
“Does Janice know about your porn collection?” I ask.
It’s a desperate attempt, but I am indeed desperate. I need something. If he guesses that I’ve rolled back a file, he could find it and revert the change before the compile is complete. The bear turns to my brother.
“Search the log for a date change,” the bear says.
“I did,” Arthur says. “No changes from today.”
“No,” the bear says, “it wouldn’t be from today. Search backwards from the release date and find the oldest file. He slipped in an old file.”
The bear has the right idea, but he’s not knowledgeable enough about the system to know how to locate my sabotage. There’s a way to compare the dates from the last build to the current queue, but the bear has no idea about that.
Adam, who knows even less than the bear, panics. I try to hold him back, but he jumps up and makes a run for Arthur. The bear is much faster and much closer. He takes a step forward and swings a giant paw. The blow hits Adam in the chest, driving him backwards with bone-crushing force. Adam flies off his feet. My reaction is pure instinct. I roll away from him and bring up an arm to protect my head. Adam’s hip brushes past me as he tumbles over me. He skids to a stop on the floor.
The bear roars in triumph. He steps forward, challenging me to take up Adam’s attack. I put my hands up. Arthur has been distracted away from the task and seconds are ticking away as the build machine works to replace their good code with the old stuff that I injected. Adam’s approach was simple, direct, and effective. I hope he didn’t pay for it with his life.
I pull myself across the floor to reach him. He’s still, but I can see his chest rising and falling. I grab his arm.
“Got it!” Arthur says.
I turn back.
The bear has joined Arthur and they’re focused on the screen. Arthur’s fingers are flying over the keys as he moves back through the change log and pins down the exact file that changed.
“This one,” Arthur says. “It looks like it’s the algorithm that tunes the fields.”
He’s right.
“All I have to do is push out the latest version of this file and I can get it into the process before the build reaches this module.”
I should have picked a lower-level module. I should have picked something that would be pulled into the process earlier.
“Do you have enough time?” the bear asks.
“Yeah, I still have a few minutes.”
I hold my breath.
“The latest version is this one here,” Arthur says.
I can only hope that he fails to check the date on that file.
“We just need to put it in the queue and… there!” he puts up his hands with a flourish and smiles as he turns. “Perfect.”
“Shit,” I whisper to myself. I suppose my last bit of subterfuge was unsuccessful. I made a tiny change to the file before I rolled it back. My plan was that even if someone figured out what I had done, the change would trigger…
“Why is it red?” the bear asks.
Arthur knits his brow and looks confused before he turns back to the monitor.
“Wait,” he says. “This file has been changed today. It’s going to have to step through the review process before it can be accepted into the build.”
“Take the earlier version,” the bear says.
“I can’t,” Arthur says. “Once the file has been submitted to the build, it has to be reviewed before it can be replaced. It’s one of the safety features.”
“Then how did he do it?” the bear asks. He turns towards me. When the bear snarls, his teeth look like they’re about a foot long.
“He didn’t submit it,” Arthur says. “He only saved it.”
That’s exactly right. If I had submitted the file, I would be in exactly the same situation that Arthur is now in. The file has to go through the full review and sign-off before it can be used, and it can’t be replaced without that process either. I only saved the file. I was relying on Arthur to make the error of committing it.
“Fix it,” the bear says, advancing on me.
“He can’t,” Arthur says. His head slumps and his hands fall away from the keyboard.
“Fix it,” the bear says. His eyes catch the overhead lights and they seem to be glowing.
“It’s fucked,” Arthur says. “It will take an hour to push the change through. The build will be done in minutes. There’s no way to stop a split now.”
The bear doesn’t seem to care. He flashes forward with a burst of speed and clamps down on my ankle. The force of his jaws sends a jolt of pain up my leg. He shakes his head and I’m thrashed back and forth as my knee pops and twists.
I scream out my agony.
My brain has only one reaction to pain and fear now. I relax. I breathe out the tearing flesh and crunching bones. I breathe out the straining tendons. I’m aware of Adam next to me. He’s crawling forward and grabbing my shoulders. He and the bear are playing tug of war with my limp body.
“Stop!” Arthur screams. He stands up. “We have to evacuate all the citizens into the new timeline now. This place is already dead.”
The bear spits out my foot. My blood begins to flow on the floor as he backs up. Adam grips me under my armpit and starts to drag me backwards as my consciousness ebbs.
Chapter Forty-Two
* Apartment *
I WAKE UP ON my couch.
The TV is on. There’s a cartoon cat chasing a mouse. He’ll never catch him. That stupid smug mouse still makes me angry.
I try to sit up and realize that there’s pain in the world. It wouldn’t stop me from getting up, but it’s bothersome. I don’t want to deal with it, so I stay put.
Vanessa comes through the door.
“Good. I’m glad you’re up,” she says. She sits on the coffee table. She puts her hand on my forehead. “You’ve been out for a while. I was starting to think that Adam gave you one too many pills.”
Her hand presses me into the pillow. It’s a delicate touch, and I wouldn’t dream of resisting.
“We did it,” I say. “We broke the machine so it won’t destroy the world.”
Vanessa nods, but she’s frowning.
“What?” I ask.
“Just try to relax.”
I don’t want to relax. I know what happens when I do—it always leads to trouble.
“What?”
She doesn’t answer. She takes my hand
in hers and leans in close to kiss my cheek. I feel the warmth of her touch flow through me in waves. When I close my eyes, I still remember what she looked like dressed in animal skins. She was a wild woman. She conquered the forest and talked to me when nobody else would. She gave me a taste of human contact before it was allowed.
Eventually, she even told me her name.
When I open my eyes again, Adam is standing next to her.
I manage to push my way up.
“Be careful,” Vanessa says. “We have your ankle in an air cast.”
She hands me some water.
“I feel fine,” I say.
“That’s the pills,” Adam say. “You’re doped to the gills.”
“Great.”
“You would rather be in pain?” Vanessa asks.
I shake my head. I would rather not feel like my brain was in a complete fog, but I guess some tradeoffs are required.
“How did you get us out of there?” I ask Adam.
“Back through the bear’s ship on Venus, then back to Maldy, then back here,” Adam says.
It makes me tired just thinking about it. I can’t imagine how he managed to drag me. Especially after he was thrown across the room by the bear.
“So the machine was disabled, right? Is it on the news?”
Adam looks away. He tries to look me in the eyes again, but his eyes shift the other direction.
“It didn’t work out the way I thought,” he says.
“It’s going to be okay,” Vanessa says. “At least for the duration of our lives, everything will be fine.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Adam takes a deep breath. Vanessa moves over and gestures to him, but he doesn’t want to sit that close. He needs a little distance before he’s going to disclose his information. I see his eyes shift over to the vent. I’m sure he wants to be on the other side of it right now. That’s where he’s most comfortable—separated from the rest of us by a nice metal screen.
To his credit, he settles into the chair next to the bookcase.
“Yes,” he says eventually. “Yes, the machine is disabled. But it’s also not disabled. Things were farther along than I thought, and the overload was already inevitable. So we’re stuck with two parallel fates.”
“What?” I ask.
“Right now, if you ask anyone, ProNavitas went offline two days ago. They’re no longer generating power, and they will never be operational again. The world is still shaking from the news. All those plans and projects are being scrapped. Some markets are crashing, and some are through the roof.”
“So where’s the parallel fate?”
“In the future,” Adam says. “This line goes blank in about forty years. You can’t even fold to it. Another line picks up in it’s place. In that one, InAeturnum runs for the same forty years and then it blows. It takes out most of the planet with it. In that reality, Arthur’s colony is the only place where human’s survive.”
I shake my head. “What? Why not transport people to there? Why not send people to Maldy, or Higg, or somewhere else?”
Adam shakes his head.
Vanessa squeezes my hand. “They won’t allow it. The bears have sealed off mankind from emigrating from Earth. They blame us for everything.”
I still can’t get my head around it.
Adam picks up the explanation. “When the machine collapses, it seals off most everything. You can’t even fold in that world, and their portals don’t work. Before we reach there, the bears will have sent every human back to Earth and hunted down the ones who wouldn’t come willingly. I can only execute transverse shifts there—forward or back. It’s sealed.”
“Is that possible?”
Adam shrugs. “I suppose it must be.”
“So he wins,” I say. “After everything, Arthur gets exactly what he wanted.”
Vanessa lifts my hand until I look her in the eyes. “Dennis, we think your brother is dead.”
The news hits me right in the chest. My brain denies what she said—they must be wrong—but my heart believes it from the moment she speaks the words.
“Impossible.”
Neither of them contradict me. I wish they would. I would argue that Arthur was in control of everything. I would argue that Arthur was a master of self-preservation. I would argue that he is a survivor. They don’t speak, so I don’t have anyone to argue with.
“Did anyone tell Robert?” I ask.
Vanessa and Adam look at each other. I struggle to my feet.
---- * ----
I put all my weight on my good foot, using the cast only to balance myself. My hand is bandaged as well. I must look like half a mummy to the students weaving down the hall. I knock again. He must be out.
The door opens as I’m turning away.
“What?” Robert asks.
“Can I come in?”
He lets the door swing inwards as he walks back to his desk. There’s nowhere to sit except for his bed. My nephew, the serious college student, is bent over his studies on a Thursday evening while his dorm hall is virtually empty. Everyone else probably getting a jump on the weekend. When I was in college, there was a local bar that had Thursday-night drink specials if your ordered an appetizer. I probably spent twice as much on potato skins as I would have on cheap beer in another joint. Still, the place was warm and dim and loud. I wish I could take Vanessa back there with me. We could get the corner booth and drink until the world ended.
Robert finally looks up from his notes. “Do you want something?”
“Robert, I’m your uncle.”
There’s no pause before his response. “So I’ve heard.”
“I have some bad news about your father.”
“He’s not dead,” Robert says.
“I’m afraid he might be.”
Robert shakes his head.
The door opens and I spin to see who it is. It’s just another young college student. These kids never show pure joy on their faces, even on a Thursday night. They always look grim, but with a hint of ironic amusement at the folly of life. I’ve seen this kid around the halls, but I don’t remember his name. At least he wears a smile. That alone makes him more likable than the rest.
“Hey,” he says.
Robert gives the newcomer a little nod.
“Laurel is down at the Grinder,” the kid says.
“Cool,” Robert says.
With a gesture, the young man’s enthusiasm seems barely contained. “Let’s go. You can work on that any time.”
“It’s due tomorrow,” Robert says.
The kid wrinkles his nose as if I farted. I take that back—I don’t think the kid would even smell it if I farted. I’m invisible here.
“The longer you wait,” the kid says. He backs out and shuts the door behind himself.
I’m alone with my nephew again.
“You can go if you have something to do,” I say. He doesn’t want my permission. I gave it to him in the hopes that it might anger him into communication.
“Germaine always thinks there’s a conspiracy. There’s not,” Robert says.
I nod as if I knew what he’s talking about.
“So, your dad,” I say. “He owned a company in Australia. I’m not sure you know about it.”
“ProNav? Of course I know. What do you think I’m studying? I’m going to counsel the Grids when they’re ready.”
Again, I nod.
“There was an accident down there. He was trying to stabilize the ribbon to make it safe for everyone.”
Robert nods. None of this is new information.
“I’ve seen the video. Eleven people died. Your father was one of them.”
Now he’s shaking his head.
“Dad had a plan. He told me about it. He knows what’s in the future.” He gestures towards the door. I’m afraid that my nephew is just barely holding himself together at this point. “That’s why I don’t care that Laurel is down in the Grinder. I know that she’s going to marry me.
I know we’re going to be together forever and that we’re going to have one son and one daughter. Dad is going to be waiting for us. Laurel is going to go to the Grids before me and then I’ll follow after I’ve taken care of everything here. It’s all planned out.”
“The future can change, Robert.”
“Not anymore, it can’t,” he says. He looks like he wants to stand up and hit me. I think I’ve agitated him enough for one day. Before he can get violent, I start the painful process of getting up.
“I’ll leave you to your studies. I’m sorry I interrupted you. If you ever want to talk to someone, I’m just around the corner.”
He’s not paying attention. His nose is firmly back inside his notes.
I inch towards the door and let myself out.
---- * ----
It’s amazing—even knowing that everything will come to an end, life continues on as normal. I’m accumulating hard physical evidence of the change that’s coming. Bears swept Maldy, using automated hovercraft that patrolled the skies. They destroyed Adam’s cabin. I found him one day, standing in the ruins of it.
The Higg colony was wiped out. The bears restored the forest of Llanive to the native wildlife. Vanessa says that the refugees who lived in the woods were taken to Canada and Alaska. They’re staying wild until Arthur’s company can finish the Grids. That’s the name of that massive concrete construction that I visited. It will hold a million people one day. It will shepherd them through the destruction of Earth.
It’s becoming harder and harder to make any serious space-time folds. Each year, everything gets stiffer. I don’t think it’s my ability waning. Adam reports the same problems when I talk to him through the vent. Then again, he’s so distraught over his Maldy cabin that his testimony is hardly trustworthy.
Vanessa has given up her dorm room. She lives with me now. I used to think my apartment was small. With her living there, the apartment has grown to a place of infinite possibilities. Every corner is utilized, personalized, and inhabited. Vanessa has a knack for giving her surroundings life. Our apartment has a warmth that I didn’t think possible.
