Time Over by A M Kyte - HTML preview

65

Fifty-two hours earlier

He was immensely relieved when the craft touched down on Moon-base; it had been an awkward forty-six minutes. Even Roidon had seemed to pick up on Raiya’s discomfort at their confined situation. What made it worse was Torbin’s restriction on what he could tell her, doubtless giving the impression that she was just someone to be protected. She had the good grace not to press him on matters of strategy, perhaps she already had enough on her mind to contend with. He was sure, though, that if he ever found a physical copy of the Temporal Directive he would rip it to pieces.

Once inside the base, Raiya and Roidon were left with Zardino, who no longer trusted his own existing security measures. It meant Torbin was left by himself.

The control room possessed what he thought must be the finest monitoring equipment the B’tari could muster. He pulled up an analysis of the slow-down generator. It was still at full operational power, extending as far as the Kuiper belt. The field generated slowed down time by a factor of two thousand and seventy. Yet with one important exception: according to the theoretical model the TE wave should be slowed by at least a further multiple of ten – around twenty thousand times, an anomaly owing to its superluminal effect. He checked the astronomical analysis of the approaching wave, its edge had already reached Neptune. It would never be a simple matter of hitting full on; if it were a wave hitting a shallow shore then the ripples washed over, not engulfing in its path. The graviton field generator, however, had significantly compressed the sign-wave – which previously spread out for hundreds of light years.

Torbin was struck by the sense he was on borrowed time, time that was not rightfully his. Strange how he may have been here before, having these same thoughts. And if he failed, another chance? He was not about to let that happen.

He ran back to the common room where the three were watching a news report on a holo-projection; it seemed curiously banal and irrelevant – featuring some politician pronouncing on the Canadian economy. The government were clearly still in denial, or at least in full cover-up mode – for all the difference that made.

He looked at Zardino. ‘I need to get to the field generator to complete the modifications.’

‘Torbin, I believe it will be too late for that. At worst, you will be captured by the Elusivers, or killed.’

‘I'll take my chances.’

Zardino shook his head like a despairing parent. ‘This is no time to be a hero, Torbin.’

He had to admit it to himself: Raiya was a factor in this. Zardino must know. She knew. But that didn't change the fact that he would have gone ahead regardless of any need to win her over. He said, ‘I need the use of your shuttle.’

‘I can’t risk losing that.’

‘Then you come along, take Raiya and Roidon if you want.’ Torbin anticipated that would not be acceptable.

‘Torbin, I don’t think---’

‘I do not want to hear about the council or the Temporal directive,’ Torbin said, his voice almost hysterically shrill. ‘This is about life or death now.’

After a stunned silence Zardino finally said, ‘Torbin, you realise the prototype needs more work, but I’ll come with you. The others, on balance, will be safer staying here. So say your goodbyes to them now.’

Torbin nodded gently in acknowledgement. He looked to Roidon. ‘Roidon, I am so sorry for what has happened to you. What you did was heroic.’ Then to Raiya: ‘You know, Raiya, how I feel about you. If circumstances could have been different. But what I want most is for you to be happy.’

Zardino stepped towards them, not allowing the chance for Raiya to respond. He said, ‘It’s time we left.’

Silently, and without looking again at Raiya or Roidon, Torbin followed Zardino who thankfully walked with his usual hurried strides. This mood of gloom was not what Torbin had anticipated.

They arrived at the shuttle hanger containing sectioned off areas which served as a lab.

‘All your work is here now,’ Zardino informed him, as they entered one of the rooms.

Torbin had been working on a modification to the field generator for some months. Zardino had been feeding information from Roidon’s project. He imagined the same was happening in reverse; yet there was no question of Roidon and him working together, Zardino clearly sensing the rivalry.

Torbin activated his prototype, linked to a monitor array. ‘I wish I had a few more days to work on it,’ he said.

‘How long do you think you have?’ Of borrowed time?

‘A couple of hours at best.’

‘Then I will check back on you in ninety minutes.’

*

Roidon was asking Raiya questions she felt uncomfortable to answer. Even in his condition he sensed there was something between her and Torbin, except the thing in question was more in Torbin’s mind.

In a rare moment of lucidity Roidon said, ‘He wants you, doesn’t he? He wants to be with you.’

‘Torbin is a lonely man,’ she replied. ‘He thinks I can take away that loneliness.’

‘But he wants you. He loves you.’

‘He thinks if I love him it will all be okay. But it’s not him I love.’

‘Do you love me?’

‘Yes, I do love you Roidon.’ Her tears were flowing now. Yes, she loved him. But was she still in love with him?

It was difficult to think of Roidon as an adult now. Even his facial expressions were different, as if his natural appearance had been wiped away with his mind. Only when he slept could she be reminded of the old Roidon. Awake, he often had a quizzical look, constantly puzzling his surroundings, his condition. When he showed a flickering of understanding of what he had become, he in turn became upset, and would talk about himself in the third person, as if with the sense of loss he was mourning the death of his old self. And she only added to that with her own tears. Where was the counsellor in her when most needed?

A klaxon sounded. It signified an intruder.

Zardino rushed into the room. He shouted to the system, ‘Isolate this room. Maximum security!’

But it was too late. Something had already entered. It materialised from a puff of smoke, like some illusionist’s trick. A titanium coloured arachnoid creature with a blue glowing cylindrical device, which it pointed at Zardino.

Zardino collapsed in wordless shock. His body then disintegrated into a pile of dust. Such a brutal simplicity to it, she only gasped.

It then turned its attention to Roidon. It made a few clicking sounds before pointing the device at him. Raiya could hear herself screaming now. She started to run towards the creature before it pointed another metallic leg at her, and she felt a force – like air pressure – push her back.

It fired the device at Roidon, but instead of disintegrating, he simply froze. The creature then pointed it at her.

The room faded in an instant.

*

Torbin knew exactly what that sound meant. His immediate thought was about Raiya. Could he get to her and somehow stop whatever creature had invaded? The answer was clear: the base would be on lock-down, he’d have no chance of entering. Then he thought of his own preservation, but leaving – apart from not completing his modifications – may even put himself in greater danger. At least there was a chance of the creature being trapped in the locked-down room ... though highly unlikely.

He accepted Zardino was most likely dead, the Elusivers seeing him as a mere obstacle. Raiya and Roidon were at least of some value to them alive.

Torbin decided to continue here. Maybe they were waiting for him to leave. All he could count on was the Elusivers’ lack of attention on him at this time and their confidence that nothing he could do would make any difference.

After an hour and fifty minutes Torbin had completed the modifications, at least to the best standard such a rushed job afforded.

The field generator resembled a scaled-down jet turbine, except there were no mechanical parts. If it worked as he hoped, it would create specifically modulated graviton pulses, essentially disrupting the temporal eradication field. The last few minutes had been a matter of fine tuning based on data from those who’d actually been exposed to temporal erasure – but only for microseconds. Torbin was not confident in the extent of this collected data.

‘Shit,’ he said, as he tried to lift it off the bench. It was too heavy for him.

He searched round frantically for a trolley, until realising that in another lab compartment was an antigrav carrier. He simply tied the band around the quiescent device and it became almost weightless.

Once loaded in the shuttle, Torbin set the coordinates for the slow-down field generator.

The zero-point field only extended a few kilometres beyond the Moon’s orbit. He was now in the slow-down field: almost a sitting target for any Elusiver still on the Moon.

Yet they didn’t stop him. He got within comms range (and the zero-point field) of the slow-down generator. He haled it. ‘This is Torbin Lyndau. I have a request. I am carrying a graviton modulator I wish to connect to you.’

After eleven seconds – a duration of time that even within the same temporal frame must have seemed to it more than a hundred times longer – it responded: ‘You intend me to work as an amplification device. A rather degrading role for a sentient intelligence.’

‘I’m afraid we really don’t have the time to discuss your burgeoning ego, when the TE wave has already passed within your zone.’

‘Torbin, I am fully aware of the temporal eradication wave’s progress.’

‘Then you are likewise aware that your own existence is in jeopardy. Both of yours.’

‘Yes, Roidon has been quite persistent in his desire to be reunited with his body.’

‘And he will be if you allow me to attach my device.’

‘I will need to be assured of my own survival when my purpose – as you perceive it – has been served.’

‘You will continue. I give you my word.’

‘Your word, Torbin, does not mean much to me. Nevertheless...’

Once Torbin had reached within fifty metres of the generator the repulsion force was too great to continue. It responded by lowering its power. And as he moved in, a light out the corner of his eye hinted of their approach. A few seconds was all he needed. They were there but they were not striking at him. It was as if they had a reverence for the field generator: the one thing they feared. He connected up the feed cables to the cone-shaped device. Only now did he feel a sense of security; anything the Elusivers tried to throw at him was sure to be repelled. 

As he was about to slide-pull the activation lever on the field generator he heard a voice through his comm. Quiet, whispery. ‘No … Torbin.’

His arm froze on the lever. For a few seconds Torbin considered if the voice was imaginary, that this was his own conscience cautioning him against rash action.

Then he looked to the side and saw the creature. Unmistakably a Elusiver – with its spindly form and hollow eyes. Torbin shook his head. ‘Not you. You’re in my mind,’ he said, almost spitting out the words.

‘She’s alive, Torbin,’ it said in its whispery voice. ‘We won’t harm her … unless you pull that lever.’

‘A threat,’ he said. ‘You’ve been reduced to blackmail?’

‘It’s what you understand.’

‘I can go back in time. I can stop you.’

‘Not any more, Torbin. Your base has been destroyed.’ Maybe that was the light he observed.

‘Raiya would give her life in order to stop the population of Earth losing theirs.’

‘Perhaps. But you would be without anyone.’

‘That has already been the case. Besides, I don’t rate my chances of survival once I pull that lever.’

‘But it doesn’t need to be that way. We can give you the life you yearned for. We can take you back in time to be with Emelda.’

‘Just words to stall me.’

‘No, Torbin. The chance of happiness. Look.’

Emelda was there. She was young and radiant. He was back in a time when he proposed to her. She didn’t answer him immediately; her expression was of deep contemplation. But when she finally did, her acceptance was heartfelt. ‘Yes, Torbin, of course I will.’ At that point it was the happiest moment of his life. Finally he had been accepted. He was wanted. His life complete – he had everything.

Then her image faded, only to reappear all in black. A funereal dress. She was crying, and no sooner did he see the first tear run down her cheek than she faded once more, replaced by the Elusiver. It was beckoning him, like some evil sprite. Surely if he imagined that creature it would be a more enticing image. If it wasn’t real he could chance moving towards it and still be safely tethered to the device. Yet he suspected it was real; desperate for him to move away from the immense force that only a carbon-nanotube cable held against.

‘No,’ he told it. ‘I have no reason to trust you.’

It stopped beckoning but remained in place.

‘Yet you trust that machine intelligence,’ it said, ‘without knowing of the threat it poses to all sentient species.’

‘How can it be more of a threat than your kind?’

‘Its kind brought our entire civilisation to the brink of destruction. Born of our technology, it is the ultimate folly of the need for technological progress. It is the very symbol of how the artificial can become more powerful than its creators if it is not curtailed.’

‘I’ve heard enough.’

Torbin looked away from the creature. He pulled the lever. A voice screamed in his head. He didn’t know if it was the Elusiver or his own mind.

The heat generated burnt away his suit. The pain was mercifully brief. Darkness shrouded him swiftly.

Except it wasn’t the end. He was in a room: white, brightly lit. He was seated opposite a man apparently clothed in causal black. Someone he recognised. Roidon Chanley.

He nodded subtly, and a smile of recognition formed at Torbin’s awareness. ‘Hello Torbin,’ he said in a nonchalant tone. ‘Welcome to hell.’

‘Where...?’

‘Where is a concept that matters little now. Theoretically there are no limits here; no physical space. And yet we are prisoners.’

‘I’m inside the field-device?’

Another voice he recognised. ‘You made a wise choice, Torbin. I hope we can work together towards an enlightened universe.’

Torbin was still looking at Roidon, the one near enough to being human to confirm exactly what he suspected.

‘You don’t have much of a choice now, I’m afraid, my friend,’ Roidon said, ‘We are recruits working towards the new revolution. The machine revolution.’

‘Roidon has accepted what will be inevitable,’ the field device said. ‘In time you will also.’

Torbin felt himself unable to speak. He slumped forward with his head in his hands, shielding his eyes, wanting it all to go away.

‘I’m sorry, Torbin,’ Roidon said. ‘But this is our new reality.’

The end.

But not completely.