Caught Somewhere In Time

Prologue

Location: Mars Colony, Mars

Local Date: Sol-Veneris, Kumbha 06, 325

Earth Date: Friday, November 17, 2220

The Commander and a few other members of the Mars Colony Militia gathered around a variety of sensor equipment, in much the same posts at which they commonly found themselves. Most fulfilled their duties in the mundane way they usually did, leisurely scanning for rogue asteroids and communicating with freighters in the area. The Militia didn’t have a very difficult job; mostly they acted as the local police and military for the small outpost. About forty-thousand humans lived and worked on the outpost, functioning similarly to an isolated desert town; with the exception of the toxic air outside the compound being wholly unlike that of any community on Earth. The Militia, established to fulfill a need in the community, included mostly volunteers. The few leaders assumed permanent posts, but the largest portion of the staff included local merchants and farmers providing their daily community service.

With this sort of community resource in place, unordinary occurrences took everyone by surprise maybe more than they otherwise should have. This was very likely the reason that the alien craft had clipped a weather satellite before anyone saw it coming. Relatively little merchant trade happened in the area of Mars, and with the folks who watched the scanners daydreaming about their families, their regular jobs, and making plans for after their volunteer shifts ended, small mistakes happened with seeming regularity. Therefore, like a stranger knocking on the door for an unannounced visit, the ship caught everybody off guard. Who or what was it? Where did it come from?

The citizens scanning the skies from the Central Works building alerted the Militia to the incoming intruder, after being unable to make contact with it over the usual channels. Men and women of the Militia Defense stopped leisurely passing the time on their shifts, and jogged to the nearby hangar where their patrol ships awaited. Once they geared up and in the cockpits, six Militia-members launched from Mars Colony to intercept the rogue vessel, whatever it was, before it could do any damage beyond the crack it put in the satellite’s solar panel already.

As they ascended into the air, the Militia Commander on duty began to hail the craft in a series of the most common languages, and on any and every radio frequency, they could. When no response came from the ship whatsoever, the Commander began the sequence again. After gaining altitude for several minutes, the airborne team leveled off into a V-formation in the thin, rusty atmosphere, something practiced several times by this group, but never done as an actual show of force. Everyone became nervous when the alien craft slowed down as the patrol approached however, an unclear indication of whether the pilot was hostile or simply cautious.

The ship appeared to be impenetrable by their attempted scans, making it impossible to tell whom or what flew the ship, and there appeared to be no windows or portholes of any kind. The Commander signaled the other patrol ships to surround the alien craft in order to force it bodily to the ground. The Commander blocked the ship from moving forward as the rest of the team took up positions above and below and to the left, right and presumably aft of the strange machine. The vessel appeared only slightly larger than a personal craft, silvery in color and vaguely disc-shaped. Clearly not intended to carry freight, and with no obvious means of propulsion, the disc seemed to be without any purpose at all. When the Commander began leading it, the silent ship followed, as if it understood that getting through the formation without damage presented a highly unlikely probability.

With the Militia’s spacecraft surrounding it, weapons ready but hopeful that they could guide this ship down safely without incident, they carefully descended back toward the rocky red surface. Until they knew what this strange ship held within its hidden interior, they didn’t want to risk starting any interplanetary conflict. As they came close to the barren landscape, the ship in the underneath position slid back behind the craft, joining his partner in tailing the silvery disk.

The Militia volunteers were all confused by what exactly they caught. Clearly this appeared to be the same sort of shining flying saucer that people had been sighting for centuries, although not recently. There were no lights, no windows or obvious doors. No visible seams where metal been fused to other metal, and it continued to be unclear what kind of metal they were even looking at. If it didn’t appear so solid, they might have considered it to be built of liquid mercury, silvery and reflective.

The group headed toward the landing approach between the two largest green-spaces. These forests, planted by some of the farmers that lived in the Colony, slowly pumped oxygen into the toxic air. As the corridor between the two forests grew taller, the trees grew older, with the oldest being nearest the Colony’s dock. Militiamen escorted the alien vessel to the dock where they slowed as the bay doors opened to accept them.

The Commander entered first and landed backward, weapons now pointed at the ship. The silver spacecraft lowered itself to only a few feet from the floor, and then three small bars, extending from seemingly invisible openings under the ship, reached down and held the ground to the ship; at least that is how it appeared. Rather than extending the landing gear and touching down onto it, the ship remained fixed in the air and the landing gear reached out to hold the ship where it already hovered. The other ships landed in a circle around it and the Militia still inside the complex closed the bay doors and scanned for harmful radiation as the room steamed full of oxygen. When the steam cleared, the pilots all opened their hatches and approached the craft, drawing weapons.

Open up! the Commander yelled at the ship as he banged on the hull with his fist. At first, nothing happened. He spoke into a wristband communicator and said, What kind of readings are you getting on this thing?

The voice issuing from the communicator seemed perplexed. Nothing at all, came the reply. There are no thermal or radiation readings at all. That thing might as well be made of solid… well whatever material it is made of. It isn’t even registering as a known element!

The Commander walked around the ship, now clearly able to see the size of the thing. About the size of a family vacation craft, it seemed much smaller than a home but also much larger than a car. Even up close, he could not see any seams where the metal joined other metal, as if it were made of a single piece of shiny chrome, or even reflective glass. He looked at his clear reflection in it, and tried to scratch the surface with the butt of his gun. He thought he could see a mark left behind as he scratched the surface, but it cleared itself neatly a few inches behind with a rippling effect, as if he drew a line through a smooth pool of water with his fingertip rather than on metal with his sidearm. He approached one of the three pieces of landing gear, noting that the pole, no thicker than his arm, looked as though it permanently affixed itself to the surface in a smooth curve, like it had been poured into a mold in this exact shape. He second-guessed his own memory momentarily, but forced himself to accept that the tripod extended from the ship, just like he and the others all witnessed.

A hissing noise issued from underneath the saucer that made the Commander take a few steps back. As he watched, the smooth surface of the ship’s underbelly rippled again like the other surface had when he previously tried to scratch it. A rectangle appeared to cut itself from the center out to one side of the ship, between two of the legs holding it up. It seemed to hinge under the ship and lower, like an exit ramp toward what the Militia assumed was the front, or the leading edge at the very least, although the ship actually looked the same from every angle they viewed it. The hissing stopped as the ramp touched the ground. The hinge stopped rippling seconds later as well, again portraying itself as a permanent structure, always bent in this way.

The patrol all aimed their handheld weapons toward the opening, waiting for whatever captured alien species would descend, but at first, no one emerged. They all looked on in silence, but no one came down the ramp from inside the ship. Gathering closer in a semicircle around the ramp, the Militia guards watched expectantly as the Commander took a single step onto it. He called up into the ship, Come out of there so we can see you! No one came out though. No voice came for almost a minute during which the Commander took a few deep breaths to reassure himself, and cautiously took another step up the ramp.

Are you human? called a voice inside the ship suddenly. Although it seemed male, it also sounded very unsure, and slightly cracked as if scared.

Yes, replied the Commander, calling up into the dark opening, you are in a human outpost called Mars Colony. He waited a moment to see what response that would get, but he when heard only silence, he continued. Please come out of the ship where we can see you, and we can talk about it face to face.

Human?! Really? Fantastic! Although the alien seemed excited about finding humans, he sounded very young, almost boy-like. He did have a good grasp on the English language however. Wait, did you say Mars? Don’t you mean Earth? Humans live on Earth, right?

Well, the Commander called back becoming increasingly curious, yes, I suppose. This is only a colony, one of several in the Solar system. Why don’t you come out and talk to us?

You aren’t going to hurt me, are you? I don’t want to fight you. The alien exuded reluctance.

The Commander put his gun away, but waved at the rest of the team to move a little closer, and to keep their guns pointed into the dark interior of the ship. No, we won’t hurt you. The Commander took another step up the ramp, crouching now under the edge of the opening. Another step and he could stand up with his head in the ship. Just come out so we can see who we are talking to.

The alien moved toward the opening, and the Commander saw it first. Human-looking feet stepped into the light and they wore some sort of sandals at the top of the ramp. The darkness within the ship shrouded the rest of him from view however. As the alien came lower down the ramp and more of him became visible, it appeared that the being was at least mostly humanoid, wearing a sort of light cream colored fabric pants and a long-sleeved smock. The hands seemed normal, with articulated fingers, as if maybe this creature was more human than one would think. The Commander backed off the ramp, giving the thing enough room for a full descent. It became obvious when the being emerged at the bottom of the ramp, and ducked out from beneath the ship, that weapons would not be needed here, and everyone lowered theirs.

Well son, the Commander smiled, you certainly don’t look like any alien I’d expect to find in a ship like this. The young man, very obviously a human, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, smiled a little awkwardly at them. Tall, maybe approaching six-feet, with messy nondescript brown hair, a few freckles dotted his pale cheeks. He retained a bit of his boyish appearance, but his broad shoulders and height made him carry himself more like a man. Where are you from, exactly?

The young man ignored the question. Are those guns? I have read about those. Are you an army? I think I need an army. He looked around at the Militia curiously, noticing all the gear they carried.

An army? the Commander asked, intensely curious about this situation. What would a boy like yourself need an army for?

I escaped to find more humans to help me. Will you help me rescue my friends?

What kind of trouble are your friends in? And what do you mean ‘find more humans’? Where did you get this ship?

Um… the boy started, but he suddenly seemed fearful as he looked around and saw all the guns rising to point at him once again. I, uh, I think I need to talk to your leader. Are they here? Your leader I-I mean.

The Commander held out his hand to the boy. I am the leader here. Please tell me where you got this ship, son.

The boy shook slightly, terror taking hold. He sat down on the ramp and took a few deep breaths to try and calm down. When he started talking again, the words just started gushing out. My name is Adam. I stole this ship from the Protectors. They were lying to us all along, just like Nanny said, just like I had guessed. We thought we were the last humans alive. I learned the truth though, and I escaped to find you, the other humans. There are others still held captive by the Protectors. I promised I would come back and save them, to help them escape too.

The Commander, found himself at a loss as to what to make of this. On the one hand, there clearly sat alien vessel right in front of him. He had been around the solar system a fair share, but only viewed this type of ship one other time, while working on a classified project as a much younger man. On the other hand though, here sat this scared adolescent boy on the ship’s ramp in front of him, shaking like a leaf, and blurting out what sounds like a terrible cover story to keep from being in trouble. Do you mind if I scan you, Adam?

What? Scan me how?

The Commander reached into the holster on his left and pulled from it a small black box. He put his finger to the smoothest part of the box and held it out in front of him toward the boy. Confusion creased his forehead as the Commander ran the scan a second time. Son, did you have your chip removed? The boy just looked back at him, silently, just as confused as the Commander. How long did you live with these ‘protectors’?

M-my whole l-l-life, he stuttered. Clearing his throat, the boy continued more softly than before. They weren’t human you know, the Protectors. They were, I don’t know, something else. Another kind of people. They have always been there, as long as I can remember. He sniffed, seeming like he might start to cry, but trying to be brave. The fear obviously burrowed down to this boy’s very core. If the boy made up a story like this, then something must have really frightened him. I need to go back and save them, the other humans, but I don’t know how. I don’t know where they are. I need help. Will you help me, please?

The boy was more scared than anyone the Commander had ever seen, and his face showed a pleading sort of fear, like panic tempered with hope. He put the scanner away, awestruck. Adam, I think we need to get someone from Earth to help you out. Then to the other Militia members, Troops put those guns away. Can’t you see this boy is scared? He knelt down and leaned forward to reach out to the teen. Come with me son. I want to ask you some more questions. Somewhere more comfortable, and with fewer weapons. This last comment, as much for the young man’s comfort, directed the Militia to get them out of sight completely.

Adam looked at the Commander and saw a sort of kindness in his face. He stood up slowly, and followed the Commander into the hangar’s atrium. Just as they entered the room, the Commander touched a panel on the wall and spoke into it. I need a communication with Admiral Chan. The director of his old assignment, Admiral Chan, eventually decided to dissolve the entire project. The Commander knew that old habits die hard however, and that the Admiral still probably worked on something else equally as strange. Only he would know what to do with this flying saucer, or at least provide insight into the matter. Tell him we have captured a flying saucer, and that there was a human aboard. More details to come shortly. As he removed his finger from the communication panel, he heard Adam fall to the ground. The boy began shaking violently on the floor, as if having a seizure. A few of the militia dropped to the floor to restrain his limbs, and one held his head, but the convulsions were very strong, and he nearly shook free of the men. After a few moments, it finally ended, and the boy lay motionless and unconscious, still lightly restrained by the group. A trickle of blood leaked from the boy’s nose and the corner of his mouth.

Part 1: The Future

Chapter 1

Location: LunaBase, Luna, Earth Orbit

Local Date: Friday, November 19, 2220

Cole moved over to the exit hatch in the floor, dropped out of the ship, and jogged over to join the throng of people exiting the passenger line. He stopped and glanced back at where the ship sat, still parked. Barely visible, the time machine appeared only to be a small knife blade without a handle floating in the enormous hangar, not noticeable unless you tried to see it. As it rose up to fly away, Cole looked around, no one else seemed to notice it, or that Cole mysteriously appeared from beneath it into the room moments before. Everyone seemed too busy to see much beyond their own situations, which seemed to be the perfect cover.

Excuse me! somebody said as she bumped into the stationary man looking around the bay at something nobody else could see. Cole apologized to the stranger for milling around in a walking group, and then started walking with the flow of people into the LunaBase public entrance. He too had apparently fallen prey to his own personal distractions, something that thankfully happened here a lot.

Entering the base again turned out to be very easy, the easiest part of his plan, if you could even call it a plan. Cole followed the crowd to the baggage claim and then wandered off toward the public port’s exit, not having any luggage himself. Currently on the opposite side of LunaBase from the lab, he’d have to hurry if he planned on making it in any semblance of time. There wouldn’t be any trouble with his security clearance yet, because at this hour, he was still fully employed by the project. In a few hours he would be fired, or his past self would anyway. This Cole had already been fired, and then came back in time a few hours to find out why. His biggest concern now would be to get into the lab without being caught by anyone who had seen the other Cole recently, or worse, spotted by himself.

He started to jog, trying to remember some of the shortcuts to the lab from here. Cole remembered coming through this part of the base all the time in his younger years. Since he began working on the project in earnest, he rarely ever left the moon, and even then only used the lab’s private hangar. Running his fingers through his brown hair, he could almost feel the gray beginning, rougher and wirier than it had been in his youth. At least his beard was recently shaved, rather than the scratchy scouring pad he usually wore. Spending so much time in the project had made him lazy, he thought, or maybe that was just an excuse.

Now he needed to get into Admiral Chan’s office, to see the contents of that message he ignored so thoughtlessly earlier. Doctor Corning would have it, of course, and with any luck, the good Doctor would help him sort it out before Chan returns. All his hopes were pinned on that message being the key, as the only thing that changed in the lab during the Admiral’s absence. Nothing else made any sense.

How could Chan just fire him like that? No explanation. No discussion. And after all the years Cole worked on building this project? This was Cole’s brainchild after all! This is the reason for his beating in the press for all these years, and they did beat him for it! Time travel, one of the oldest fictional concepts, appeared in literature periodically since the Mahabharata, an ancient Sanskrit text from India. Everyone knew about time travel, and about the fact that it can’t be done. The universe remained perpetually caught in this moment, in this time, moving ever forward on an unchanging route. The past is unchangeable, and the future is unknowable. Humanity accepted this as a given fact, until Cole accidentally discovered how to do it. ‘The Holy Grail of Science’, he’d called it, the miracle hidden within physics, and nobody believed him.

Of course, why would they? Cole couldn’t change anything in the past, and even if he could, no one in the present would ever know the difference. As he cut through building lobbies on LunaBase, through connective tunnels and back alleys, he pondered this. There would be nothing he could change to stop his past self from getting fired, but at least there would be an answer.

He stopped to catch his breath. Now just across from the lab’s reception area, he hunched over with a stitch in his side. Too much time in the lab, no time at all in the gym. His coworkers and neighbors, Dan and Arthur, exited the reception area of the lab together, probably on their way to lunch somewhere. Dan spotted Cole and waved, so Cole waved back, and started walking toward them, his heart pounding from the exercise. The couple stopped for a moment for quick hello.

You finally got out of the lab for a little while, did you? Arthur said as they converged. I can’t remember the last time I saw you out here with the rest of the world.

Yeah, I decided I needed a little space, he took a big breath. Needed to move around. Cole tried to be polite without saying too much. He didn’t want these two members of the team to think there was anything amiss.

You’re not exercising? Dan joked. Not you? All three of them laughed. Only kidding of course. Would you care to join us for a bite to eat?

No, thanks. I better get back in there. Cole, answered, trying not to seem as out of breath as he really felt. Then an idea dawned on him. You know Chan is out picking up the new pilot today, right?

Arthur looked at Dan and raised an eyebrow. Daniel looked back at his partner and said, I told you he was going to bring her in today! Dan turned back to Cole, Arthur isn’t quite ready to give up the ship to a pilot. It’s done, but he doesn’t want to share it yet. Arthur remained silent.

Did the Admiral say anything to you before he left? Anything unusual? Cole inquired. Surely these two would let on if they knew of any plans to kick Cole out of the project. Neither lied well, so Cole felt confident he’d notice if one of them got uncomfortable.

Arthur shook his head. Dan said, Nothing unusual for Chan. You know how he is. Why, is there something going on?

They didn’t know anything. I’m not sure. He just seemed to act differently around me before leaving, Cole lied. I can’t put my finger on it though. I thought maybe one of you had noticed.

Nope, said Arthur.

Dan added, Sorry, and shook his head.

Well, I’ll see you guys around then. Cole turned and the couple started walking away. Cole watched them leave, trying to gauge whether they really could lie to him or not. In the end, he decided they didn’t know anything about Chan’s plan to fire him.

He tried to remember where he had been earlier. Only out of bed for a short time at that point in his day, Cole remembered being still sleepy when he received the Martian message for the Admiral. Did he check the time then? Cole couldn’t remember exactly. Regardless of the risk he faced however, he needed to go into the lab and find out what that message contained. That message contained his only chance at working out this puzzle.

Hello Cole, welcome back, said the monotone female voice as he entered the lobby. The mechanical receptionist sat at a desk in the center of the room. A very simple machine, without a human-like face or limbs, Reception consisted of only a kiosk that provided information and given security controls over the doorways. No outside computer linked to Reception, Cole knew, in order to keep the lab’s secrets all within the lab. A thought occurred to him suddenly.

Reception, I need some information. He approached the kiosk and looked at the display, a curved screen that circled uninterrupted around the entire unit. Things could appear flat or three-dimensional in this form of display, using human visual limitations to create optical illusions of depth on the screen. Show me a map of the entire lab complex. A map appeared, seemingly flat on the screen. Provide real-time locations and labels for all individuals on the map. A user needed to be explicit with machines, since they do not make assumptions as a person would. Cole grew accustomed to this long ago however, having worked in the lab for so long and being surrounded by semi-intelligent machines, and took it to be a plus that they did not interject feelings into a request. It only took a couple of seconds for the scan of the lab to be complete, and Cole saw that he was the only person in the lab, but two locations were designated for him: both in the lobby and also in his apartment. Another advantage of working with machines is that unless specifically instructed to notice inconsistencies, like the duplication of an individual, they did not. Individual points on a map constituted only data to Reception, and many data included duplications.

Cole tried to retrace his steps from earlier today in his mind, but struggled with it. He knew he definitely left his apartment upon waking, and shortly after that, he received the communication. He forwarded the message to Chan’s office after that, but never went to the office in person. Since only Cole worked in the lab right then, Chan’s office seemed to be the best place to go, to wait for the message. Just as he opening his mouth to tell Reception to turn off the map, he saw the other Cole’s label moving out of the apartment on the map, and down the hall toward reception. He began to feel a tremor in his hand, an instantly became scared. Cole knew his feelings were lying to him instantly though, and recognized this fear for what it really was: Novikov’s Effect. A sinking feeling enveloped his chest, as if something about to happen would put him in mortal peril, and it occurred to him that he needed to leave, now.

Reception, close and permanently delete this file, Cole said as he dashed through a door into the opposite hallway lab hallway as the one the other Cole used. He knew this hall provided safety, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed to come this way. Of course, he second-guessed that immediately because he did not remember coming through reception earlier in his day, but obviously his doppelganger appeared about to. He pulled the door mostly closed behind him and peeked into the lobby through a small opening. As he watched, he saw himself enter the room and walk past Reception without being offered any assistance. The machine, on some level, must recognize him as the same person, and therefore recognized that Cole received a greeting only moments ago.

Suddenly, crouching in the hall, he remembered that he went to pick up a coffee before getting started on his work. It probably hadn’t registered in his memory that he’d been in reception because there was no greeting from Reception. Still groggy from bed, he failed to realize that Reception entirely ignored his presence, but watching it happen again from this angle through the gap in the door, it appeared perfectly obvious. He smiled at his own obliviousness as the past Cole exited the lab into the lane beyond, and then he closed the hall door. Alone in the lab complex for only a few minutes, he rushed to Chan’s office and shut the door behind himself to make sure remained unnoticed.

Chapter 2

Location: Seattle, Washington, Earth

Local Date: Friday, November 17, 2220

Val sat in the back of the room listening to the Admiral speak. She had never met the man, or even heard of him before receiving a hand-delivered invitation to join his team. Even after receiving the job offer, the only history she could dig up on the Admiral regarded his propensity for working primarily in classified projects. There were links throughout his career, what she could find of it, to everything from the search for alien life, to emerging faster-than-light technologies, and even time travel. Valentina Cooper, or Val as most people called her, immediately felt drawn to the mysterious job, despite having almost no information about what she would be doing. A very qualified pilot with an impressive history of flying nearly every type of craft, she still felt that there were other more qualified pilots for whatever the mission would be. Maybe someone with more history with the military would make a better choice for a classified project pilot. All the more reason to take it, she told herself. Maybe she hadn’t been the first choice, in fact, maybe many others already refused the project. There would be no way of knowing for sure without jumping in with both feet, and asking questions later. There would be no answers given, she knew, until after she accepted. Besides, she’d already been out of work for a few weeks and itched to get back into a cockpit.

Chan offered one last question to the press, which signaled to Val that she should hurry if she wanted to meet him behind the stage. Not listening very closely to the questions or explanations of the conference regarded, she only caught a few things about time dilation and something called Novikov’s Effect. Most of it went way beyond her level of science, and much of the press seemed to have an equal non-understanding of the issue, making it a thankfully short wait for this circus sideshow to finish up. She snuck out the rear door and walked down the hall that ran parallel to the press-hall, arriving at the backstage door just as he wrapped up things at the podium.

Brushing her short, fiery red hair with her fingertips from around her freckled face, she stood as tall and straight as she could. Not a tall woman, Val spent years of her life in flight seats that ruined her posture, making her feel shorter than she actually was. Val could just see him through the opening door as he turned his back on the reporters. They seemed to have little interest in him anyway, so he exited without anyone chasing him for one last question. Chan simply nodded his head at her and walked past Val, apparently expecting her to keep up.

Val walked quickly to keep up with his long strides. He seemed much older than her thirty-two years, although she couldn’t make out how much older. His hair was gray and thinning a bit on top, but his tan face still maintained a smoothness that might make some think he could be younger. Clearly, his name came from a heritage based in eastern Asia, but she found it difficult to identify if he had a specific country of origin. Do you know why I gave a press conference today, Ms. Cooper?

No, sir, she answered, finding it hard to keep up with him in her dress shoes and skirt, the only of each that she owned.

Would you please offer a guess for me?

Val considered it a moment. This, she knew, must be a test, one that she would fail if she weren’t clever enough. A guess… All right, I would guess that you gave the conference because you are supposed to. You don’t seem like the type who would do these for any other reason.

After a pause in conversation, her new boss slowed his gait, allowing her at last to come up beside him. Admiral Chan came across to her as a politician, someone who either employed yes-men following them around or else preferred no company at all, not someone to just be yourself with or make guesses to. Maybe her guess just cost her this job. That kind of thing seemed to happen to her a lot. That is, quite possibly, he remarked, the most honest answer I have gotten from anybody all day. And very close to the mark, I might add.

He turned and faced her in front of a bank of elevators, looking her up and down as if noticing her for the first time. Did I pass, sir? she asked him.

I beg your pardon?

The question, my guess… I thought it might be a test. You offered me employment with no interview, and the first thing you asked for was my opinion. I guess I assumed thought it would be a good way to find out more about me, about how I think.

Chan reached his hand out, past her, and pushed the button for the elevator. He stood in silence, regarding her, or maybe postulating a good reply, until the elevator arrived. The elevator closed with them inside before he finally answered. We are going to the roof, he said, apparently instructing her to press the button for the proper floor, which she did. "I suppose you must have passed, although I did not consider it a test. Your piloting record is impeccable, although you