Sliptime

by Jeffrey Grode

  Patrick changed the subject. He didn’t say anything about his work projects, since Patsy had once tried to turn him over to Commonwealth security agents. He did talk about his daughter, Patty, starting a garden in the spring, and wished Patsy a happy birthday for this Saturday.

  “Albert, is that you?” Betsy opened her eyes. “Since when did you care about planting a garden?”

  Patsy moved toward the bed. “I’m here, Mom. Patrick came to visit.”

  “Patrick?” She studied him. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  His mouth opened, but he couldn’t find the words.

  “He’s your friend from Earth, Mom.” Patsy turned toward him. “She’s really tired.”

  He wasn’t so sure. Patrick walked to her side and squeezed her hand. “Hope you’re feelin’ better. It’s so good to see you again.”

  She narrowed her eyes and pulled her hand from his grasp. “Again?”

  “You don’t remember me?”

  “You resemble Albert, but I don’t . . . understand.” She blinked her eyes and turned toward her daughter. “What is this man doing here?”

  “I came to visit you.” Seeing Betsy’s frown, he glanced at Patsy for help, but she merely shrugged.

  Betsy pressed the nurse’s call button. “I’m sorry, but you must have the wrong room. Maybe the nurse can help you find your wife, or whoever you’re looking for.” She turned to her daughter. “Where’s your father? Why isn’t he here?”

  “Miss Betsy, I’m sorry, I—.”

  “Patsy, please tell this . . . gentleman I’m a married woman and would like to have some privacy.”

  The call nurse glided into the room. “Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

  Patrick’s face grew ashen. Albert what have you done? He left the room without saying another word. As he walked down the hall, he tossed the razor into the trash lest he use it on his doppelganger.

  The elevator took him to the hospital basement. Returning to Albert’s house would tax his civility, if not his humanity. Had Albert dared create an implant to erase his wife’s memories? He shook his head. Such an act would be an obscene violation of the Hippocratic Oath for any medical doctor, although he wasn’t sure if it applied to Albert or the Commonwealth. The procedure smacked of mind control, something he’d feared might happen. The next time you see her . . . she won’t even know your name.

  She didn’t remember him. He felt like he’d lost his wife, Betty, all over again, except this time she hadn’t died. His thoughts ran to an old friend whose husband had Alzheimer’s disease. Her husband no longer remembered her after being married for fifty-five years. It happens, except in Betsy’s case, Albert had deliberately used implant technology to punish her. Or me. I might deserve this but she doesn’t. Bastard!

  Patrick knew he didn’t have the tech, access, or experience to reprogram her. Even so, did he have the right? Who knew what transpired between Betsy and Albert? What if she had regrets and asked for this? No. Her last visit would lead him to believe the opposite. She wasn’t the same anymore. What had she said to him? “Maybe the nurse can help you find your wife, or whoever you’re looking for.”

  Patrick walked into a deserted men’s room in the hospital basement and created an encrypted portal directly to his phased lab. Upon arrival, he noticed Amo must have cleaned up the table and the blood from the floor.

  “Thank you, Amo, for saving me from Albert’s wrath.”

  Vsshhhh-click. Amo appeared, his bright blue eyes shone in stark contrast to his green metal body under the bright laboratory lights.

  “You are welcome, Commander.” Amo blinked. “Do you wish me to take any precautions with him in the future, or have you normalized your relationship?”

  “Good point. Please re-scramble our p-medallion signatures to block Albert’s return to Earth. He needs a cooling off period.”

  “For how long?” Amo asked.

  Patrick scratched the bald spot on the top of his head. “Let’s discuss that after I return.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back in time to see a friend. If all goes well I’ll return momentarily.” He reached into the computer desk drawer, pulled out the cloth sack, and looked inside. His eyes narrowed. “Amo, who has been here since I left?”

  “Ben. He cleaned up the lab,” Amo said. “We had a good conversation.”

  “Did he take something?”

  Amo’s ceramic blue eyes blinked. “Yes, he took a time medallion.”

  Patrick laid his hands on his hips. Chrissakes. “Did anyone else visit?”

  “Yes. I used the computer to monitor the hidden house cameras. The FBI and Dr. Caliban searched your house, turned many things upside down, and found a family picture and blood on the cellar floor. Unable to find you, Albert, your prototype detector, or me, they left."

  “Did they find the phased lab?”

  “No,” Amo said.

  Patrick took off his dark rimmed glasses. “Wait a minute. How could you watch the FBI on a live camera feed if relative time stands still in the phased lab?”

  “Commander, I have a confession to make.” Amo blinked. “After finishing my assignments in the phased lab, I realized a relative eternity could pass before you might return. I had become bored and useless waiting inside the phased lab as time slowed to a stop outside. Initially, I left the lab and learned more about your culture from news, commercials, and reality shows. I decided we would both be better served if I resolved the chrono-disparity. I built a modulator to synchronize the phased lab with real time when it seemed most appropriate.”

  Patrick ran his hand over the crown of his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Commander, I know how much you valued the extra time in the lab, and I use that as a default setting whenever you arrive, but I feared for my sanity. If I lost my mind, I might become obsolete, or even . . . dangerous.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows raised. “Amo, I completely understand, and though I will generally need phased time when I work in this lab, please don’t hold back the next time you are concerned about somethin’. We’re a team, and I value your thoughts. Understand?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Patrick nodded. “Thank you, for lettin’ me know, and for your thoughtful and innovative mind. I don’t want anythin’ bad to happen to you.” Patrick placed his hand on Amo’s green metallic shoulder. “You are truly amazin’. Remind me to give you a raise.”

  Visshhhh-click. “You do not pay me now.”

  “Name your price.” He smiled.

  “Swearing the Commander’s Pledge was enough. Honor it always.” Amo blinked. “Besides, you cannot afford me.”

  Patrick laughed. “How true.” He looked back to the pouch in his hand, took a deep breath, and replaced his glasses. “I’m glad the FBI didn’t find their way inside this lab, but someone else did besides Ben. I had three time medallions in this pouch, and I’m down to one. Who else was here?”

  Amo nodded. “Albert visited 1.75 hours after you left and took a t-medallion.”

  “Oh my Lord. Please, see if you can lock down both Albert’s portal and time medallions. We need to deny him access to Earth until I say so. I don’t want any more surprise visitors.” While I’m gone I want you to keep an eye on Ben. Please keep him safe.”

  “Yes, sir. Should I start now or earlier?”

  “Earlier is fine. Use your t-processor and discretion, but keep hidden.”

  Vsshhhh-click. “Yes, Sir.” Amo folded his arms in a humanlike approximation of concern.

  Patrick smiled. Where had Amo learned that gesture? “Somethin’ wrong?”

  Amo uncrossed his arms. “Commander, are you sure you want to risk a journey to the past? We have not yet tested the effects of time travel upon human subjects.”

  “Yes. I need to make this trip . . . Please watch over Ben.” Patrick calibrated his bronze t-medallion, pressed the switch, and a swirling green mist devoured him.

  Chapter 1
1

  Good morning, Terra. Patsy woke Friday in her old bedroom in her parents’ house in Carmichael. Her mother stayed in the hospital, while her father snored away in his room. She slid out of bed, crossed the hall, and checked on him as he slept. His forehead felt cool to her touch so she didn’t wake him. She thanked the Redeemer he was all right and for the earplugs she kept in her suitcase.

  Patsy felt like a newer better version of herself since she had her own faulty implant removed, and hoped her mother would experience the same. Mom seemed fine last night, until her memory lapsed regarding Patrick. Weirder still, her mother couldn’t remember Ben, visiting Earth last fall after the war with Erde, or using portals. Dad and Jack’s portal medallions remained a family secret, but how could Mom have forgotten so soon? The doctor assured her that Mom hadn’t suffered a stroke, and that patients often had lapses when the older memory chips were replaced. He’d said if her mother’s vitals were good, she would be released today and would improve with time.

  Patsy thought of her son and smiled. She couldn’t wait to return to Carlston and see Jack home from college to celebrate her birthday. She planned to serve his favorite hamburger and noodle au gratin casserole, angel food cake, and choco-cherry ice cream. Goose bumps tingled along her arm and her smile grew broader. Jack had hinted Ben might visit too.

  She’d felt lonely while Jack lived at Pitt and her friend, Dean, had business in Vegas. After her gunshot wound had healed enough for her to travel, Patty and Dean, had a wonderful vacation in Sin City. Dean had helped her find an attorney to press charges against the Terran Commonwealth and CSD.

  Though the shooter, CSD Agent Vargas, had disappeared, CSD settled out of court to avoid negative publicity and bury any public discussion about teleportation. Imagine the headlines—CSD Agent Shoots Single Mother in Her Hospital Bed. Proceeds from the settlement covered her medical bills, a new car, Jack’s college tuition, her mortgage, and her trip to Vegas.

  Patsy had offered to pay her father back the five thousand dollars she purloined from his safety deposit box, but Daddy told her to keep it. Her father already made big money from his association with the technical research and development firms, implant technology, and some whiz-gig thing called a computer.

  She missed Dean though. He’d returned to Vegas for a court hearing related to his car accident. A party bus, loaded with drunken revelers, had plowed into his rental vehicle just as he left to buy a twenty-four pack of Dice Beer. Fortunately, Patsy had stayed behind in the hotel to paint her pigglies, missed the ruckus, and scored a six-pack from the motel clerk. Dean had to wear a neck brace for the last three months—especially when he left the house. You never could tell who might be watching.

  Patsy made her way to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and snickered when she saw her new tee shirt—What’s eaten by Vegans stays in Vegans. As she climbed into the shower, she wondered if her good humor resulted from her recent financial freedom or living without the implant meant to govern her mood swings. No doubt seeing Ben alive had helped, even if he wasn’t really her son. He’s some kinda . . . dobblegrupper from another world. Still, she missed him too.

  It had been years since the whole family had come together for a birthday party with presents, candles, singing, and laughter. Must have been sometime before Ben had died, and her ex-husband, Johnnie, had run off with that crazy-ass Lucy from the hardware store. Even so, she’d survived. Lately, she wondered if Lucy hadn’t done her a big favor. Johnnie seemed happy enough, and little Suzie was a sweetheart.

  Ben dressed for school and stuffed a change of clothes into his knapsack for his upcoming trip to Terra. He smelled synthetic oil and suddenly the hair on the back of his neck prickled. “So how long have you been watching me?”

  Visshhhh-click. “Since we met. Last night the commander asked me to watch over you.”

  “But you were here before I met you. How did—oh, you used a t-medallion?”

  “No. I have an internal t-processor, rather than a medallion, which allows me to travel through time. Conceptually, I may appear to be in two different places at the same time, but I am still one me. Last night I went back one week.”

  “Does GranPat know I took one of his new medallions?”

  “Yes.” Amo stayed invisible, or i-phased, per instructions.

  “Was he pissed?” Ben turned in the direction of the robot’s voice.

  “That word has several meanings, but I believe you meant ‘angry.’ No he was not angry with you.”

  Well I’m going to Terra today at noon. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yes. I will go in advance to scout the entry site.”

  “Okay, but we need some rules. One. Please stay invisible as much as possible. I don’t want to freak anyone out. Two. There are times I need privacy. I’ll let you know when. Three. Try not to hurt anyone. Four. Listen to me and I’ll listen to you. I want us to be friends.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Ben wondered if Amo was being sarcastic. Even if he could see him, Ben doubted he could read Amo’s face.

  “Please call me ‘Ben.’ ‘Master’ sounds odd.”

  “Yes, Ben. I have conditions as well.”

  “Yes, of course.” Ben sat on his bed and tied his shoes. “What are they?”

  Amo reappeared and his blue ceramic eyes focused. He sat on Ben’s desk chair. “One. Consider the consequences before you act. Two. Try not to put yourself in danger or someone may be hurt. Three. Do not ask me to hurt anyone. I will decide what is necessary to prevent further harm. Four. I may not always be there for you. Five. Always tell the truth.”

  “I understand. I try to tell the truth, but sometimes—”

  “Knock, knock,” Mom said outside his door. “Someone in there with you?”

  Ben twitched and Amo disappeared. “Come in.”

  She entered and her eyes panned the room. “I have breakfast on the table for you. Did you pack a change of clothes?”

  “Yes.” Ben could smell bacon and his mouth watered.

  Mom folded her arms. “Be careful in Terra. Tell Jack we miss him and he’s always welcome for a visit.”

  “I will. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Ben had told his parents he was visiting Jack today, and would probably stay overnight. He hoped to be back to Earth at seven a.m. for wrestling practice, return to Terra for Patsy’s party at noon, and back to Earth for Mom’s birthday party at three p.m. He sighed. And then my special date with Trudy.

  “Everything okay?” Mom’s right eyebrow went up.

  “All good. Just a busy weekend.”

  “You can talk to me about anything. I promise.”

  Ben felt the presence of the invisible Amorphous in the room with them. Always tell the truth. How could he tell his mother Trudy wanted to have sex? She would forbid him, and maybe even ground him. What would he say? But Mom, she wants to give up the booty. This felt way too awkward.

  His mother frowned. “Ben, I know I wasn’t . . . there for you in the past, but I’m here now. Please, let me help if I can.” Her face seemed strong and fragile at the same time.

  She didn’t want to hear about my problems before, and now she wants to . . . Wait. Wasn’t this what I always wanted? “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve got a date Saturday night with Trudy.”

  “Nice girl. Go on.” Mom leaned on the doorframe.

  He shivered a little. “She wants to get more serious. I like her, but I’m not sure I’m ready for . . . you know, that.”

  “Oh.” His mother’s back straightened. “Hmm. Tell her how you feel. She’ll understand. You have two more years of high school, and then college. It’s not a race.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” But what if I cave? I couldn’t say no to Ruth on Terra.

  She folded her arms. “You have to be strong and live your life the best you can, even if it means disappointing someone you care about. Are you ready to get married or take care of a baby?”

  “No way!”

  “Then you know
better than to take any chances, or give in to peer pressure. And you can’t always count on contraceptives. Is she on the pill?” Her eyebrows arched.

  “I don’t know.” He felt too warm and looked at the door.

  “C’mon, Ben. Men need protection to prevent pregnancies and STD’s.” His mom’s face flushed. “You need to know these things. Have a long talk with her before you do anything you’ll regret. Be smart. Okay? I’m not ready to be a grandmother.”

  STD’s. Oh, God. He sighed. “Yep. Thanks, Mom. You’re right.” Jack had already chewed him out about hooking up with Ruth. “I don’t want to mess things up.”

  She walked over and ruffled his hair. “Love you, Benzo. See you downstairs.”

  Ben heard her light footsteps fade in the hall. Love you too, Mom.

  Visshhhh-click.

  On Friday morning, Jack drove home to Carlston from Pitt and parked his car in the town parking garage. He emerged on Maple Avenue and passed a snow-covered Fountain Park. The copper statue of Al Gore, otherwise known as the Green Apostle, wore a tall white wizard hat of fresh snow. Tiny glaciers of ice glistened down its cheeks like frozen tears.

  The air was cold, but the sun warmed Jack’s face. He’d told his mother he would come home Saturday for her birthday, but instead, skipped Friday afternoon classes and arrived a day early. He looked forward to his doppel-brother’s arrival from Earth, and hoped Ben could help him sort out the mystery, or misery, of losing Lori. Some riddles are too hard to solve alone.

  As Jack walked past the shops, movie house, and restaurants, waves of memories floated through his mind. Though he tried to focus on the kindness Lori had shown him, he couldn’t expunge the sight of her in Brandon’s truck. The memory loop ran in his head like a runaway horse.

  Jack found himself in the parking lot behind Moonlight Pies where he’d planned to meet Ben at noon. His watch read 11:50. A blue garbage truck backed into the alley to pick up a large green dumpster. While moving in reverse, the truck sounded a warning.