by Geoff Wolak
A bright flash preceded a portal opening. Jimmy gestured Jesus towards it, the young Seethan stepping through, quickly followed by Jimmy with his head down. Jimmy moved aside white curtains, and straightened to find a startled Seethan female.
‘Great Maker,’ she gasped, standing and bowing.
Jimmy took in the room with a frown as the portal powered down. ‘Is this … your apartment?’
‘Yes,’ they answered.
Jimmy took in the cramped rooms cluttered with equipment, and the make-do portal coils, half-eaten pizza laying around, shaking his head. ‘How old are you two?’
‘I’m twenty-five,’ Jesus offered. ‘And Sandra is twenty-four.’
‘Sandra? A human name?’
‘Most names are human now,’ she explained. ‘It’s … the modern trend.’
‘And you speak perfect English,’ Jimmy noted.
‘If you want to get on in school or business, you learn English,’ Jesus pointed out as Jimmy took in their tatty apartment.
‘You’re electricity bill must be steep.’
‘We … illegally tapped into the mains,’ Sandra explained, her head still low.
Jimmy peered through a window, finding a city at night, and that they were on a high floor. ‘Which city is this?’ he puzzled.
‘Denver, sir.’
‘Denver?’ Jimmy repeated with a curled lip.
‘The capital, sir.’
‘Denver is your capital? There is so … something wrong with that,’ Jimmy quipped as he took in the equipment on display. ‘And you acquired portal technology … how?’
‘We both undertook our degrees in portal technology,’ Jesus explained. ‘Are you … going to turn us in?’
‘If I did … what would they do to you?’ Jimmy posed.
‘They’d kill us,’ Sandra stated.
‘So, when I’ve finished doing here what I came to do … you’ll be offered sanctuary on my world.’ Jesus and Sandra exchanged a look. ‘If, before I return, the authorities get here, go back to that world at that time, and ask my people for sanctuary.’
Jesus faced Sandra. ‘We could breed there without a license.’
She smiled. ‘And raise our own children.’
‘I’m guessing that Seethan practises haven’t progressed much,’ Jimmy began. ‘How many years have advanced since the barn preaching?’
‘Eighty-nine years, sir,’ they explained.
‘And the split in the time line?’
Jesus and Sandra exchanged looks. ‘Sixty years ago, but few know about it, and those that do have been threatened with death. The theory is banned.’
Jimmy slowly nodded to himself. ‘Write down this address for me.’
Jesus wrote down the address. Apartment 356, Block 12, 21st Street, Denver.
Jimmy pocketed it. ‘Now, where would I find your President at this hour?’
‘At the White House, sir, north side of the city.’
‘Of course,’ Jimmy mocked. ‘You two pack your bags, and get ready to leave … forever.’
‘You came here alone, sir,’ Jesus began, ‘and to go to the President will be … dangerous.’
Jimmy closed in on Jesus. ‘You … went to that world alone, and you could have been killed or locked up. You did it out of conviction, willing to make a difference – for good – and to sacrifice yourself for others. Now, multiply your convictions by a thousand, and you’ll know how I feel. If I’m killed, then it will be a noble death, trying to help others, trying to save lives.’
Jesus and Sandra both knelt. ‘We are in the presence of The One.’
‘Do me a favour, after you’ve stopped kneeling. Never mention to anyone - on any world, anywhere, what you did. You pretended to be someone that you are not, and for that they would genuinely crucify you.’
‘We shall not speak, as you request,’ Sandra offered, now standing, but still bowing.
‘I’ll be back in an hour, if all goes well,’ Jimmy said as he opened the door. ‘Oh, you know how to open a portal in a different physical location, yes?’
‘The technique was perfected just six years ago, sir,’ Sandra said. ‘It was part of my degree studies. I … worked with a military sponsorship,’ she admitted, sounding ashamed.
Jimmy nodded, and stepped out.
‘Lift is on the right!’ Jesus shouted after him.
Jimmy pressed the button and waited. A door opened behind him, a scream issued, the door slamming shut. Jimmy faced the lift. ‘No humans on this world, hence the reaction,’ he muttered. ‘Yet … they try and emulate us; English language, human names. Hmmm. And they know me, even my face.’
The lift door opened with a ‘ping’, a Seethan stepping out quickly.
‘Nice night for it,’ Jimmy offered as he passed the man, soon pushing the button for ‘Lobby’, the words in English. As the doors closed he heard a belated scream. Descending slowly in a smart gold-enamelled lift, Jimmy listened to the pleasant background music, his journey having started on the 35th floor. At floor 25 the lift juddered to a halt, the doors opening with a ‘Ping’.
Two Seethan men in tuxedos stood with two smartly dressed ladies, all carrying bottles. They stared, open-mouthed, at Jimmy.
‘Going down?’ Jimmy asked.
A female fainted with a thud, not caught by her escort for the evening. The doors slid shut a few seconds later, and Jimmy continued on down. On the 17th floor the lift again juddered to a halt, the doors opening. An elderly man with a stick hobbled in, bent double and not looking up.
‘Which floor?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Ten!’ came curtly back.
Jimmy pressed ten, the doors closing. ‘Nice night for it.’
‘Bollocks!’ the old man let out.
Jimmy turned his head, his eyes wide, and blinked. Turning back towards the lift doors, he said, ‘I guess Paul Holton had something to do with this world’s advancement.’
‘Holton? Best president we had back in the day. These young fools don’t know shit from snow. Don’t know what it is to do a hard day’s work.’
‘That is so true,’ Jimmy agreed.
The lift eased to a halt at floor ten, the old man hobbling out, not having set eyes on Jimmy. At the lobby, Jimmy heaved a big breath. ‘Here goes nothing.’
The door opened to a group of ten Seethans, all chatting away. The conversations quickly ebbed away as Jimmy took a step forwards. A bottle was dropped, smashing on the hard marble floor of the lobby.
‘Waste of good booze,’ Jimmy commented as he walked around the group, all heads turning to following him. At the reception desk, a female screamed and fainted, a man stood rigidly shocked. ‘Could you call me a taxi?’
‘A … a taxi?’
‘Yes. You know … vehicle to get me to your White House.’
‘You … you … want to go to the White House, sir?’
‘Yes, please.’
The revellers had all turned about and followed Jimmy, people stepping in from the street just halting and freezing.
The man behind reception pointed. ‘There’s a cab … sat right there, sir.’
‘Excellent. Thanks for your help.’
A camera flashed. Jimmy turned to the female holding the camera. ‘Would you like a group photograph?’
She hesitantly nodded. Jimmy walked over, directing the girl out, and to snap Jimmy with the group.
‘Gather round,’ Jimmy called. The revellers moved quickly, the girl taking several snaps. People starting holding up devices and taking video images. Jimmy smiled politely, nodded at a few people, and headed out to the taxi. In the street, women screamed and halted as Jimmy approached the taxi, the yellow vehicle looking not unlike cars of 2048 Earth.
Jimmy eased in and closed the door. Placing a hand on the driver’s shoulder, he said, ‘Do not be afraid, and take me to the White House.’
Only now did the driver glance in his mirror, before swivelling his head around. ‘You’re … you’re a human!’
‘I�
�m Jimmy Silo.’
‘Silo! Wha … wha … wha …’
‘I have business with your President, and I’ve come a long way across time and space to be here. And … your customers will never believe that I sat in your cab. You’ll … make yourself a great deal of money.’
The driver’s demeanour altered. ‘Shit, yes. Oh, sorry for the profanity, your holiness.’
‘Perhaps we should get a move on,’ Jimmy nudged.
‘Sorry.’ The driver pulled out and joined the traffic. ‘My wife will never believe this. And she’s a … you know.’
‘A … secret Christian?’
‘Yeah, and with you here the arseholes in office don’t dare enact the new powers.’
‘New powers…?’
‘At the moment it’s a fine to be caught with religious text, but the new powers could make that a jail term.’
‘That’s terrible, but I’ll let you in on a great secret spanning many worlds and thousands of years. Religion can be a great source of comfort for a person, if used for the right purpose. That purpose … is to try and fight the animal within, the animal that makes us want to do bad things.
‘An ordered society, and a religious doctrine, can go hand in hand, and on my original world the Christian Ten Commandments were a basis for our laws. Unfortunately, different groups interpreted the ancient religious teachings in different ways, and made war on each other for small variations of beliefs. Now, what would you say if one group of Seether killed another group because they both interpreted my words differently?’
‘That would be … not right, your holiness.’
‘Correct. So don’t be in a hurry to find religion, and you can quote me on that.’
Flashing blue lights shot past them.
‘Those police may be after me,’ Jimmy suggested. ‘Do you think you could get me to the White House by a discreet route?’
The driver swung the wheel, cut-up other traffic, and was soon on a side street next to a park. As he drove, he accessed a computer on the dashboard. ‘This’ll jam my tracker, and make the controller think I’m heading the other way.’
‘Excellent. And I won’t ask why you’ve previously made use of such a manoeuvre.’
‘Sometimes I had Christians on board.’
‘Don’t forget what I said, religious teachings can be used for power and corruption by bad people. Your beliefs are between you and God, and you don’t need churches, bands or loud praise.’
‘I can’t believe I’m having religious teachings from the Prophet himself,’ the cabby said, shaking his head. He hit the accelerator and bumped a curb, soon crossing a park. Fortunately, it was dark, the park empty. Bumping onto the road the other side, he screeched around a corner.
‘Is that … your parliament building?’ Jimmy asked, craning his neck to see the large building.
‘Senate, yes. For all the good they do. Real power lies with the President.’
‘As it did on many worlds, at many times,’ Jimmy said with a sigh.
At the next corner they cut a red light and went straight through at speed.
‘What’s the time here?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Eighth hour past midday, just about.’
‘And I hope your President is not visiting another city.’
‘He’s there, I think, he was on the news this afternoon; new powers to curb air pollution and global warming.’
‘He doesn’t sound all bad. Have you used algae plumes to grab carbon dioxide?’
‘No, I don’t think so, sir.’
‘Then I may be able to offer some assistance.’
‘Will you … be removing the President?’
‘That’s not my task, and that is down to the people,’ Jimmy insisted.
‘The voting is rigged.’
‘Rigged?’
‘Well, not rigged, but whoever has the most money wins because of all the advertising.’
Jimmy sighed. ‘Sounds familiar.’
‘That’s the White House, sir.’
Jimmy peered ahead, to a building that looked nothing like the US Presidential White House on his world. But it was white at least. They closed in on it at speed, able to drive right past it and to within fifty yards. The cab screeched to a halt at the main entrance, a dozen guards stood visible.
‘Thanks for the lift, sorry that I don’t have any cash.’
‘For you, it was an honour, sir, a great honour.’
‘Try and wait for me if you can, but don’t risk yourself on my account.’
‘Can I use the video, your holiness?’
‘Video?’ Jimmy asked.
The cabby tapped a device fitted to the roof. ‘All on tape, sir.’
Jimmy smiled. ‘You may use it, sell it, and benefit from it anyway you choose,’ he said as he eased out.
The White House police closed in, then stopped dead, exchanging looks. They started to back up.
‘I’m expected inside,’ Jimmy loudly told them as he strode forwards. The police moved aside and escorted Jimmy inside, up a curving road past ornate flowerbeds, and past large white pillars to the front door. Two other police officers stood waiting, both now shocked, radios hurriedly used. The door was opened and Jimmy led inside, an official in a suit walking forwards.
‘Then it is true,’ the man said as he stopped, looking Jimmy up and down. ‘We … had reports of a human being seen.’ He shook his head.
‘Not one of your humans created in a lab,’ Jimmy began. ‘The real thing.’ He put out a hand, the man reluctantly shaking. ‘Jimmy Silo, the original.’
‘You … know about our clones?’ the man puzzled as the door was closed, police waved away.
‘Did you really believe that you could get the better of me?’
Other officials, some quite old, now appeared and stepped forwards, staring wide-eyed at Jimmy.
‘The original Silo is long since dead, fifty years or more,’ an official said, examining Jimmy as if he might be a fake.
Jimmy took a moment to reflect on his reported death. ‘How did he die?’
‘He fell ill, and … fell apart. Turned into liquid. I was there!’
‘Ah,’ Jimmy said with a smile.
‘What’s so funny?’ the same man demanded.
‘Your ignorance, that’s what’s funny.’
‘You came here alone?’ the same man angrily demanded.
‘Yes,’ Jimmy said with a nod, now being led down the corridor.
‘Then you risked yourself for nothing,’ the same man uttered.
‘What’s your position … here?’ Jimmy asked him.
‘National Security Advisor,’ the man reluctantly admitted as Jimmy was shown into a state room, pointed towards a sofa.
‘Well, National Security Advisor, check your sensors and see if they can spot the rather large military base we placed on your moon.’
The men all shocked upright. ‘You … put a base on our moon? When? And how?’
‘We have your frequency, thanks to a bunch of college kids building a portal and interfering in your past.’
‘College kids?’
‘Christian believers,’ Jimmy emphasised. ‘They introduced Christianity to your people before I stopped them.’
‘Christians? With a portal?’ The power brokers were mortified.
‘Yes, and by now my image will be all over your world.’
‘We can suppress that, claim you to be an actor,’ a man suggested as he sat opposite.
‘And what about the missiles raining down on your cities?’ Jimmy posed.
The same man stood. ‘Missiles?’
‘If you have suitable radars, check them.’
An aide rushed in. ‘Sir,’ he said towards the NSA. ‘Several objects just appeared in space, sir, they came out of nowhere.’ The aide stopped dead and stared at Jimmy.
‘High-yield EMP weapons,’ Jimmy said. ‘Very advanced. They’ll knock-out all of your satellites, and then target your cities.’
The door bur
st open and the President stepped in flanked by two aides, the Seethan President showing locks of grey hair above his ears. The others in the room moved back, Jimmy standing.
‘Mister President,’ Jimmy flatly offered, a hint of a grin evident.
‘Mister President,’ the NSA quickly got in. ‘There are strange objects appearing in orbit, and Silo says they’re EMPs targeted at us.’
The President slowly nodded to himself, looking at the floor, before waving people to seats. He sat himself, Jimmy sitting opposite. Facing Jimmy, he took a moment. ‘So you’re him, the original Silo.’ He took in a portrait over the fireplace. ‘You know, some smart young fellas tried to tell me that interfering with the time line was a bad idea.’ He glanced at the NSA. ‘A right bad idea. Others, they tried to convince me of … what a great opportunity we’d have if we could make a few alterations to our society’s development.’
‘Time portals … can be used, or abused,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘And there are several civilian groups on this world opening portals to your past, groups you don’t even know about. And some of those groups are trying to counter anything you may do … by introducing Christianity.’
The President slowly nodded to himself. ‘A door swings two ways.’
‘And a paradox could wipe you all out in an instant, your entire species.’
The President again nodded. ‘What are these things in orbit?’
‘Enough EMP weapons and missiles to destroy your principal cities, to … cut off the head, and to allow your people to start again.’
‘Cut off the head, meaning the government and the military,’ the President noted.
‘Yes, since the people … did not send a fake version of me through time.’
‘Some very smart people assured me that the duplicate was perfect,’ the President said, glancing at the various faces. ‘And now they’ve brought us to the edge of ruin.’
An aide lifted a lap-top style computer after it bleeped. ‘Sir, missiles moving towards us from the Moon, dozens of them.’
The President faced Jimmy. ‘I suppose … this is where we negotiate.’
‘No, this is where you get a tap on the shoulder. Call it a … learning experience.’
‘And will it be a painful … learning experience?’
