The Sphere: A Journey In Time (14 page)

BOOK: The Sphere: A Journey In Time
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"Drop that and place your hands on your heads."

 

I dropped the paper and turned, startled. In the doorway behind us a man in a black suit was pointing a gun at us while another man at his side held a lantern. I placed my hands on my head and nudged Noah to do the same. "Who are you?"

 

I put on my best accent. "We are French visitors."

 

I heard Noah groan slightly. "Oui," was all he could manage.

 

"What are you doing here, sneaking around in this office?"

 

"Our papers, sir. The clerk threatened to keep them from us."

 

"Why would he do that?"

 

"He wanted favors from me, sir."

 

The man looked like he might believe it. "That sounds like something you should take up with the mayor. I'm not saying I believe your tale just yet. You'll have to come with me while I check out your story." He motioned with the gun. We followed the man with the lantern out and the man with the gun followed behind. "Staying in the town inn?"

 

"Oui, sir." I prayed that he would take us to jail before checking at the inn. And that Noah wouldn't try to do anything stupid like steal the gun from him. I'm sure he could, but it was not likely to keep us from attracting even more attention.

 

He led us to a cell in another part of the court house. "You just sit tight while I go find the clerk and have a chat with him." He left us with a lantern.

 

Noah turned to me as soon as the two men were out of sight. "1882, do you know what this means?"

 

"What?" The date had no special meaning to me. I couldn't think of a single thing that happened in 1882 that could be of significance.

 

"It's exactly between 1692 and 2073." He looked around at the cell. "We need to get out of here."

 

"Two foreigners disappear from a prison? That's hardly blending in."

 

"Just be glad we're not back in 1692. They would've burned you by now." He sighed. "We'd be forgotten. They'll shore up their defenses. This is hardly a high security prison, I could break this window open easily. They're probably counting that you'd have to steal a horse to get anywhere in short order. Then they'd have you for horse theft as well." He had pulled out his sphere as he was talking.

 

"Ok then, we leave." I pulled out my sphere and opened it. "But what happens now? The sphere was supposed to take us back to 2073, we only went half way. But will it still be programmed for 2073? They always just take it away, I've never thought to ask if it resets after use or anything. What if it reset to some default after we traveled the first time?"

 

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would the destination change unless they specifically make it change?"

 

I looked back down at the glowing red light. "I don't know. They said they would readjust yours so you didn't come back at the same time as your future self. Somehow they can do that. Maybe they gave something to the scout and he fiddled with your sphere when you weren't looking."

 

"So it sounds like they need to be actively involved in changing the destination time."

 

"Then how did we end up back here?"

 

"Well this may sound rather simplistic, but we're halfway there.” Noah paced slowly as he tried to work it out. “The sphere is meant for one person and it tried to take two of us. Perhaps we halved its power."

 

"That does sound simplistic, but also reasonable. So if we tried both of us again on my sphere that should take us home."

 

"I'm not so sure." He started pacing again. "From the sphere's point of view, it's trying to take us from here back to our present day. I don't think it's an absolute thing, I think it must be relative to our current timeline."

 

"So," I tried to follow his logic. "You think if both of us try to go back on one sphere again, we'll merely get sent halfway again?"

 

"1970s."

 

"Ugh. No thanks."

 

"I think we got lucky with our last trip anyway. If this is Georgetown, we probably arrived right on the spot where the return chamber will be built. Imagine what else could be built in the spot in the meantime. In the 1970s. What if we end up in the middle of a furnace?"

 

"But your sphere is working again. Or at least, the light is on again. We can both go back now with our own spheres."

 

"Yeah." He looked at it with distrust. "What if they don't want me back. What if they're sending me somewhere else? We'd both be gone and you'd never know."

 

"And I thought I was paranoid.” I held my hand out. “Then take my sphere. Go back. Convince them that if you don't come back within an hour I'm taking the sphere no matter where it goes. They won't let me do that if it's not back to our time period." I heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening and footsteps heading our way.

 

"It's a chance I'll just have to take. Go, Addy!" He pushed the button on his sphere and was gone. I pushed mine as well.

 

Chapter 14

 

I fell hard on my hands and knees against the white mats on the floor. I closed my eyes against the brightness of the White Box and fought off the wave of nausea, breathing hard. It didn't seem to help. The air, normally clean and odorless, had an acrid smell and felt thick with decay. I coughed up a bit of bile and waited for the voice to ask me my name while continuing to breathe heavily. I collapsed onto the floor and coughed some more, trying to open my eyes against the harsh lights. The white walls slowly came into focus. I didn't see the aides come to take my sphere away. In fact, I saw it laying there still, not far from where I had dropped it. I didn't see anyone at all.

 

As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I realized the normal spot lights were not even on, it was merely the whitewashed walls illuminated by the ambient light that were so intense against my eyes after the gas lamp lit night I had just left. I picked myself back up onto my hands and knees. My time must be off, I thought to myself. I came back early, or late, and no one was expecting me. I leaned over to grab the sphere and noticed the mat had a moldy look and smell about it. They never smelled that great to begin with, but this looked like no one had been in here to clean up the sweat and sick in a few weeks. How late was I?

 

I forced my legs to hold my weight as I stood, pocketed the sphere again and staggered over to the exit door into the examination room. I figured from there I'd be able to call someone and get some assistance. The examination room was also unlit like the return chamber, but without the plain white walls it was dark by comparison, and once again I had to wait for my vision to adjust. “Hello?” My voice echoed in the room. Surely someone was watching, someone was always watching. I knew from watching Noah's return video roughly where a camera would be, looked up towards that direction and asked for help. Any second now, someone would come to help me.

 

Or perhaps not. If it was the middle of the night there wouldn't be much call for someone to be monitoring this area. Still, I would expect the return chambers to at least have a few alarms. I leaned over the examination table for support while I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I saw a set of clothes piled on a chair near the wall to my left. I took them over to a sink and undressed, throwing the normal clothes on and replaced the sphere in one of the pant’s pockets.

 

I turned on the faucet. It sputtered for a moment before some cool water ran out. I splashed my face and wondered if the bathing area would be working. Given the lack of lighting in here, I doubted it. In fact, I didn't see any lights on anywhere. None of the medical equipment had those soft red standby lights that glowed even when they were powered down. I had never been through here at night. Would they actually power down the whole dome? The only light seemed to be coming from the return chamber. I didn’t understand how that could be though, if the lights in there had been off. I rummaged around in a cabinet and found an ambient light disc. I activated it and waited as it rose to hover just above my head. With a little more light surrounding me, I realized the place looked in a state of disarray. Dr. Crebbs seemed a bit anal-retentive, so this took me by surprise.

 

I moved on to the next room and looked longingly at the tub, but as I moved closer I noticed the water that pooled at the bottom was dirty and had a green algae-like tint to it. Something in the recesses of my brain told me this was not good. Algae must take several months at least to form in an environment like this. I moved more quickly now through the rooms and reached the hall at nearly a run.

 

Like everything else, it was dark. I turned to my right, intent on heading back to the living area dome, but hesitated, remembering the room I sat in just a few days ago while the important looking people debated what to do about Noah. I turned back to the left and walked down the hall past where the older version of Noah had been held briefly. When I reached the door that I thought was the boardroom, I tried the handle. The door was locked. Feeling a bit silly, I knocked on it. I was not surprised by the lack of response. I didn't want to try kicking it in while wearing the soft shoes I had put on in the examination room. My 17th century boots were still back there, but I didn't think it would give so easily as the wooden doors did. I looked around the hall for something to smash against the door but there were only a few toppled chairs.

 

I looked back at the door with yearning. I felt like the answers to so many of the secrets they had kept from us were in that room. I looked further down the hall and realized I had never been past this door. I walked a little further down the hall, past a few more doors and turned a corner. Though the hall was exactly the same, it looked darker. I began to feel uneasy and glanced up at the ceiling, looking for some sign of surveillance equipment. I glanced behind me a few times, certain I was being watched as I walked toward the door at the end of the hall. I expected it to be locked, like the other door, but the handle turned easily and a sense of foreboding overcame me.

 

I stood there for a moment, clutching the handle, motionless, and waited for something to happen. Nothing moved. I could hear nothing but the sound of my breath. I pushed the door open a crack and tried to peek through but could see nothing. I took a deep breath and flung the door wide open, trying to convey a sense of confidence that I lacked.

 

It was an office. A large, ornate wooden desk that looked out of place in a facility like this sat directly across from the doorway. A door sat in the middle of each wall. As I stepped into the room, a soft light came on, and I heard Connery say “Good morning, Dr. Lancing.” I stopped immediately and surveyed the room, but no one else could be found. I realized it must have been an automated system. It seemed there was at least some power left.

 

I grabbed the light disc, turned it off and pocketed it, then walked around to the desk and sat down. A display sprang to life above the desk. The main part of the display showed a paper someone was working on. There were a bunch of equations and some constants I didn’t recognize. In the upper right corner of the display was a chart that looked like someone’s vital signs. The name said “E. Phillips,” and to my surprise, the chart was updating. E. Phillips was alive and being monitored, almost certainly nearby.

 

I was about to jump up and try the doors when the lower right corner of the display caught my attention. Two folders sat there, one labeled “A. MacDuff” and one labeled “N. Kent.” My eyes bored into the icon representing Noah’s folder and after a few seconds it opened.

 

The folder contained a list of files, the date of the most recent one was June 3rd, 2073. It was a memo titled “Neutralization Order.” Below that was a video dated June 2nd, 2073. It was titled “Interrogation Session 4.” A few more videos followed of prior interrogation sessions and Noah’s return. Then a long list of files of various missions and status reports. I looked back up at the first file. “Open.”

 

Connery’s voice greeted me again. “N. Kent files subject to clearance level 1 or special access channels."

 

The folder closed as well as the unfinished paper. I swore to the room. The remaining display was a split screen of video monitors. One showed the White Box. The other three were places I didn’t recognize. One looked like a dorm room, one like a hospital room, and the last a large laboratory. I couldn’t see the bed well in the hospital room, but my instinct told me that was where I would find E. Phillips. I stood up from the desk and walked to the door on my left. It was locked. There was another door next to it that opened.

 

It was a dormitory style room. A dozen beds lined the walls. Small desks next to each bed contained papers and personal effects. All the beds were neatly made except for one. The third bed on the left was disheveled and a mark that looked like dried blood stained the left side of the pillow. I picked up a framed photo on the desk that showed an adolescent girl grinning with a ball poised a few inches above her open hand. The picture must have been taken shortly after she tossed it in the air. She was standing next to a man grinning down at her, but most of his face was obscured by long hair. I could only guess that it was Doctor Lancing.

 

I decided this must have been some sort of medical research wing, though I wondered why the head of medical research would have files on Noah and me. I ran my finger along the top edge of the desk but no dust had collected on it. I opened the single desk drawer. It had a few file links inside and the ball from the picture with some writing on it. I pulled it out to read it. Eliza Phillips had signed it with a date: November 24, 2068. 5 years before I started working here. I had no idea this place was here the whole time I had been employed.

 

Why would this place look pristine while the return chambers were in shambles? I put the ball away and walked around to the next desk. The picture on this desk was another child. He was holding a card up with a heart on it. His smile was elated. He was standing in front of someone wearing a lab coat who had their hands on his shoulders, but he was cut off from the chest up. “Doctor Lancing again, I presume?” When I opened the drawer, the desk was completely empty.

 

I sighed and continued to the end of the room. The door at the end was also unlocked and I recognized the laboratory from the video feed in the other room. In person though, it didn’t look like a laboratory at all. There was only one lab table and it was pushed into a corner as though it had been in the way. A single petri dish filled with some gooey substance sat in the middle of it. There was no other lab equipment visible, which I found odd.

 

The floor was softly carpeted, a definite change from the rest of the facility, and large pillows were strewn about. A neatly stacked pile of blocks, taller than me, stood precariously off to the side of the room. Two empty chairs sat facing each other in another corner. The lab table was out of place in such a comfortable setting. There was no other exit so I left the room and went back through the dormitory to the office again.

 

The door on the opposite side of the office also opened easily. Before I even had it open I heard the soft beep of a heart monitor and knew I had found Eliza. She lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed. Electrodes connected her to various machines. I didn’t understand how she could be here; as far as I could tell, no one else was around. Perhaps if I waited someone would show up to take care of her. Perhaps Doctor Lancing was still working here. Or perhaps she’s been sitting here on life support for weeks.

 

She didn’t look ill in the slightest, and her IV drip was nearly full. Someone had definitely been here recently. She wasn’t even on a ventilator, she must have been breathing on her own. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Eliza?” She did not stir. Nothing about her changed.

 

I glanced around the room. Next to the head of her bed was a chair with a strange looking helmet on it. A cable came out of the top and snaked somewhere behind Eliza. I walked around the other side of the bed to see where it went and immediately regretted it. Eliza’s skull had been cut away. The other side of the cable looked like a claw that had been dug into her brain.

 

I turned away and ran from the room, trying to control the nauseated feeling that had surfaced. From the office I could still hear the soft beep of the monitor. She’s alive, I kept telling myself. Someone here had done that to her, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out who it was when they finally returned to her. I moved to leave the place but was stopped by the mental picture of the helmet on the chair. It was linked to her brain. Perhaps it was a way to communicate with her. If I could find out what was going on, maybe I could help her.

 

I looked around nervously. I was fairly convinced that someone would be coming back through here at some point, and I didn’t want that to happen while I was in the room with Eliza. What choice did I have though, I had to find out what was going on here. I went back into the room and looked around again. There was a closet off to the left that housed medical supplies. I figured, if I heard someone come into the office, I could hide there.

 

I sat down, took a deep breath and put the helmet on my head. I closed my eyes and tried to listen, but nothing happened. I opened my eyes again and glanced over at her. “Eliza,” I whispered.

 

Immediately images started filling my head. I gripped the arms of the chair, the intensity of it was painful. It was like someone had taken over my mind and would not allow any of my own thoughts to surface. I struggled to get a handle on myself, the images were flashing past so quickly I couldn’t understand any of them. I forced myself to relax, clear my mind and focus on what I was seeing.

 

There was one image I started to recognize, it was showing over and over again. It was the picture of Eliza and Doctor Lancing with the ball in the air over her hand. I was seeing it through the eyes of Eliza. The image stretched out into a few seconds during which I could feel Doctor Lancing pat Eliza on the shoulder. She stared at the ball and I could feel her face as she broke from an intense look of focus into a smile. The ball didn’t move during this time.

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