A/N - Sorry for the delay in the update. Holidays and other stuff
interfered. Anyway, you know the drill. I own nothing. I have nothing. So
it'd be pointless to sue. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed.
That can't be said enough! I particularly thank the faithful
readers/reviewers. I never thought my little story would actually garner
fans! The book mentioned in this chapter, "A Brief History of Time" is by
the renowned and gifted physicist, Stephen Hawkings. The book itself is a
fascinating read so I'd definitely recommend it. Be warned, I said it's a
fascinating read, not a light and easy read. :-] I'm not actually quoting
it but I use ideas and possibilities espoused within it and thought I
should give credit where credit is due. Feedback feeds the muse, who
inspires the author, which leads to quicker updates. ;-]
[ ] denotes Sydney's thoughts
***********CIA/Joint Task Force Operations Center, May 9, 2003, Morning**********
It hadn't taken her long to understand the significance of 'H.G. Wells.' Even if she hadn't studied literature in college, she would have still figured it out. H.G. Wells was well known for his science fiction novel, "The Time Machine," which was essentially about time traveling.
But after pondering that all night, she still wasn't sure what her mother intended for her to understand.
[Was she telling me that time travel was involved? But how? I'm exactly in the same time I remembered, even though everyone else thinks I've 'lost' two years. So did everyone *else* time travel and I'm in some. . .what?]
She shook her head. [Why is it that every time I think I've got another piece of the puzzle figured out, the puzzle just gets more complicated?]
Before she could think of it any longer, there was the soft beeping of the access code, and then the doors to her medical observation unit slid open. She had expected to see Vaughn, but instead, a familiar face, with the same shy smile, greeted her.
"Hi Sydney."
"Marshall!"
Marshall looked just as she remembered him. A little awkward, a little shy, and very endearing. He hadn't changed at all. But then again, neither had anyone else, in a physical sense at least. But she recognized the look of uncertainty and concern in his eyes that everyone seemed to regard her with these days. She went over to him and embraced him for several long minutes.
"Uh. . .how are you?" he asked, when they finally broke apart.
"I'm better now that you're here," she said with a big smile and was rewarded with a full Marshall J. Flinkman blush. "How are *you*? I mean it couldn't have been easy finding out about SD-6."
Marshall shook his head. "No, no, it wasn't. I try not to think about it too much 'cause you know if I do, I tend to start sobbing which leads to hyperventilating and then I have to sit and breathe into a bag for a good 30 minutes which would interfere with my job and that wouldn't be good since I'm supposed to have the new computer filtering systems set up by next week and that's. . ." Marshall stopped abruptly. "It's good to see you, Sydney."
She grinned. "It's really good to see you, Marshall."
Marshall looked around the medlab uncomfortably. "Uh, it's. . .when you went missing, things were really bad at SD-6. Everyone there really missed you."
"Even when you found out that I was a double agent?"
"Oh, well that was definitely one of those 'Whoa!' moments, you know? But when your father explained things after we got debriefed by the CIA, it. . .it was kind of hard to not see his point of view."
"My father debriefed you?"
Marshall nodded. "I think he insisted on debriefing some people personally."
She nodded and there was a long awkward pause as both just smiled uncomfortably at each other. Finally Marshall cleared his throat and indicated a small box that he was holding.
"Uh, I'm supposed to. . .uh, prep you."
"Prep me?" she asked, as she eyed the box warily. "For what?"
Marshall went over to the cot and set the box down. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'd thought for sure Agent Vaughn would have. Or at least your mother, I mean Director Bristow, since she was the one who asked me to handle this."
At the mention of her mother, Sydney's mind snapped into overdrive. "My mother asked you to do this personally/"
Marshall nodded as he fidgeted with something inside the box. "She came up to me about an hour ago and asked if I could handle this myself. She said it would be easier for you to have a familiar face. Which I can understand since it can't be easy being cooped up in here. It's like a hospital here except without the friendly nurses or the jello. You know the kind they give you in those little plastic bowls that are really small like you used to have when you were in school and ate at the cafeteria."
"What exactly are you supposed to do?"
"Oh it's just a simple thing," said Marshall as he took out a small black box. He held it up for her to see. "I'm just supposed to hook you up with a tracker."
"A tracker?"
Marshall nodded. "The CIA wants to be able to keep track of you for the time being. I mean until you're cleared for formal duty again. We just don't, uh, want to lose you again."
"Why would you need to monitor me if I'm here?"
Marshall looked at her in surprise. "You didn't know? I-I mean. . .well of course if you didn't know about me and the monitoring device then you wouldn't know that you're going to be sent back to the safe house."
"Do you know when?"
"Today I think. Otherwise, your mother wouldn't have requested that I handle this immediately."
Sydney's mind was racing. She was getting out? [Does that mean I passed the tests? No, of course not. If I did, then I wouldn't need Marshall's tracker. So if I didn't pass, why were they sending me to the less secure safe house?] And then her mind latched onto what Marshall had just said. . .'otherwise your mother wouldn't have requested that I handle this immediately.'
She knew that there had to be something else going on. First the clue about H.G. Wells and now sending Marshall in to see her on some pretense of having him hook her up with a tracking device. Even if she didn't know what the current CIA structure was like, she'd venture to guess that Marshall didn't routinely handle something like this.
[No, my mother sent him to see me for another reason.]
"Uh, Syd? You ready?" Marshall looked at her expectantly.
She still wasn't sure what was going on, but she decided to follow her instincts. "Uh, Marshall. . .can I ask you something?" He nodded. "I mean it's gonna sound kind of. . .strange."
Marshall smiled. "I'm used to strange."
She paused and drew in a deep breath. [Just do it. Just spit it out.] "Uh, Marshall, is, uh, is time traveling possible?"
Marshall looked at her for a beat. "You mean like in reality?"
She nodded. "Is it possible?"
He considered her question for several minutes. "In theory, it is. I mean even Einstein would have to concede that it's possible based on his theory of relativity. It certainly doesn't eliminate the possibility in any conclusive way."
"How is it possible? I mean, what exactly makes in possible in theory?"
Marshall straightened, which she knew was a sign that he was going to launch into a tangent-filled explanation. It was a good thing for her that she enjoyed his tangents and they never distracted her from his primary message. "O.K. You know Einstein's whole 'E=mc squared' theory?" She nodded. "His theory of relativity is based on the principle that there is no absolute time. And that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. But the flip side of that is that if you can travel faster than the speed of light, you could, in theory, travel back in time. Well, your time of course since there's no fixed, absolute time."
She shook her head. There were no tangents in that explanation and yet, even with her high level of intelligence, she still didn't grasp it. "OK, let's take it a little slower," she said with a smile. "Why exactly can't things travel faster than the speed of light?"
"OK, see, Einstein's formula, 'E=mcsquared'? That means that an energy that an object has due to its motion will ultimately add to its mass. So see if the motion of an object increases so that it approaches the speed of light, its mass will get bigger and bigger, which requires more and more energy in order to keep it at that high speed. And so far, nothing has been able to produce that kind of energy or power so nothing can move faster than the speed of light."
[Power? Like Rambaldi-type power?] "Uh, Marshall, let's just say that such an energy exists and you can travel at the speed of light? Then what? You can go back in time?"
Marshall nodded before he looked at her curiously. "Do you think you traveled back in time?"
She forced herself to laugh. "No, of course not. I'm just. . .you know.. .considering. I mean this whole experience is so weird that something as 'out there' as time travel seems reasonable sometimes."
"Time travel's not all that 'out there,'" said Marshall. "I mean if we could generate the kind of energy we do by splitting an atom, it's not impossible to imagine that someday we might find a way to generate enough power to get an object to move faster than the speed of light. Or that we could open up a wormhole."
"Wormhole?"
"It's uh. . .a warp of the space-time continuum." At her puzzled expression, he elaborated. "Kind of like a shortcut between two places. Did you ever see that show? 'Sliders'? They traveled to different dimensions by sliding through wormholes basically. It was a pretty cool show for a while and Kari Wuhrer? She was like. . .'Wow!'"
Sydney smiled. "Uh, I'm not sure I fully understand but let's say that time travel is possible, doesn't it present problems? I mean, wouldn't you age in reverse when you travel back in time? Or at least run into your younger selves?"
"Ah, see, the twin paradox takes care of that."
"Twin paradox?"
Marshall nodded. "'Cause see, the theory of relativity says there's no such thing as absolute time, right? So that would mean different people would observe different times. It's like everyone has their own perception of time. So see the twin paradox says that if one twin is left here on Earth and then another goes off in this space ship and travels near the speed of light and you know, goes out and explores space a bit, when that twin comes back, he would be younger than the twin on Earth. He might even be the exact same age he was when he left if the entire time he was in a sleep state like they put the Robinson family in." He took in her perplexed expression. "You know the Robinson family? From 'Lost in Space'? With the robot and 'Danger, Will Robinson. Danger!" Marshall had changed his voice to a robot-like drone at the last part.
She shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, I must have missed that."
Oh, it's okay," said Marshall with a smile. "It wasn't as good as the series. Though the special effects were much better in the movie than the series, especially with that mask that comes down over their faces and. . .anyway, they go into hyper-sleep in the movie while they're traveling hundreds of light years away so when they wake up, they're the exact same age they were when they left, even though, technically hundreds of years had passed."
"So what you're saying is that if someone travels back through time, they'd be the same age they were before they did the. . .time traveling?"
"They should be. In most of the movies they are. I mean like in 'Back to the Future' Michael J. Fox is the exact same age he was in 1985 even though he traveled back to when he wasn't even born yet. Which is just as well since watching him as an egg in his mother's body wouldn't be as interesting. Unless they got Bruce Willis to be the egg's voice like they did in 'Look Who's Talking." The first one. The second one with Roseanne was. . .not so good."
She was really trying to absorb all of this but it was proving difficult. Yet she forced herself to press on. "O.K. So let's say that time travel is possible. I mean why haven't we seen any future visitors coming to warn us of things? I mean wouldn't someone from the future have thought to warn somebody of say Hitler? Or the World Wars? The dangers of the nuclear age?"
Marshall was really into this topic because he was doing that little bounce that he usually did when he was explaining his latest gadget. "O.K. See there's some theories about that. One is the 'fixed time' theory that says that the past is fixed and can't be changed so if you go back in time, you're stuck with the way things are. That was kind of like what happened in that Kathleen Turner movie? You know how she hated being married to Nicolas Cage so she went back to high school with the intention of dumping him but she ended up staying married to him after all?"
"But what if things had changed? Like everything?"
"Well, the other theory is called the 'alternate histories hypothesis' which basically says that when you travel back in time you enter alternate histories, different than the fixed or recorded histories."
"And you can change things?"
"You already did just by traveling back through time."
"But can you change it back? I mean to the way it was before you traveled back into time?"
"In theory, you could. I mean you couldn't get it back perfectly the way it was originally. Like in 'Back to the Future' you know how Michael J. Fox goes back in time to the 60's and then when he goes back to 1985, things had changed. His father was successful and his father's nemesis, Biff, was this mechanic who had to wax and take care of all the McFly's cool cars? I mean things were kind of back to normal. They still lived in the same house and Marty. . .that's Michael J. Fox's character. . .he still had the same brother and sister and the same girlfriend but things were better for him."
A spark of hope flared within her. For the first time since she had awoken in Hong Kong, she felt like there was a way to 'fix' things. Of course the way that she was envisioning was theoretically possible but realistically impossible. But at least there was some hope. "O.K. But let's say you end up in the same time that you remember but everything's different. I mean, is time traveling involved then?"
"Could be," said Marshall considering. "Or you could be in an alternate dimension, which really is a form of time traveling. What exactly do you mean 'the same time'?"
She considered his question and the best way to answer it, without giving anything away. [I don't need to have Marshall thinking that I've lost my mind.] "Uh. . .well, let's say that you're in the present, like now, and then you go to sleep and when you wake up, everything's different. Like the people you knew aren't the same. Or how you remember things."
"That kind of sounds like 'Back to the Future 2'" Marshall smiled sheepishly at her look. "I was a big fan of Christopher Lloyd." A pause as he took in her lack of understanding. "He played 'Doc' who was like this genius. See, Doc built a time machine out of a Delorean and he was always figuring things out. I always wanted to be that guy. Plus he got the girl and a really cool flying train at the end of the trilogy."
She smiled. "You are the guy who always figures things out Marshall."
Marshall blushed. "Oh. . .thanks. Uh. . .anyway, see in the second movie, Biff steals this almanac from the future and then takes the Delorean and goes back in time to give it to his younger self so that his younger self can use it to win bets on sporting events and get rich. So then when Marty goes back to his time, 1985, everything was different since Biff wasn't the mechanic anymore but this filthy rich businessman and the town where Marty lived was under Biff's thumb and Marty's mother was married to Biff and she had gotten her. . .well you know. . ' Marshall stopped and awkwardly indicated his chest. "She got them. . .uh, fixed. And also Biff had murdered Marty's father. It was like a whole new world, but then Doc figured out that because Biff altered the past, they were living in an altered future."
"And he changed that?" she asked. "I-I mean, Marty, I assume he went back to change things and then things went back to normal in 1985 again?"
Marshall nodded. "Right. After they stole the almanac back from Biff in the 60's, when Marty went back to 1985, it was like he remembered it. At least the better version of his life in 1985."
Again that spark of hope flared within her. "Uh, Marshall. . .is it possible to time travel without knowing that you're time traveling?"
"Not unless you're unconscious," said Marshall with a grin. "I mean that would be the ultimate joyride, especially if you're going through a wormhole or in a craft that could go faster than the speed of light. It'd be pretty hard to not know that."
"B-but if you were unconscious, it's possible? And then you'd wake up in a whole new world even though not much time had passed right?"
"You'd be Jennifer!" Marshall exclaimed, which startled her a bit.
"Who's Jennifer?"
"Oh, she was Marty's girlfriend. And in the second movie, she faints when she sees herself in the future. So Marty and Doc take her back to 1985 and they put her on the porch swing in the front of her house, only that was the 1985 where Biff was in control of everything. I mean she doesn't wake up or anything until after Marty and Doc had fixed things so that it was back to the 'normal' 1985." Marshall did a funny air quote around the word normal here. "So anyway, if she had woken up in that altered 1985, it would be like she had time traveled and not known it." He stopped and considered something. "Well, technically she did time travel and not know it so yeah, I guess it is possible."
She was surprised at how things were beginning to make sense, despite the fact that she didn't understand half of what Marshall was saying. Before she could probe him further, however, there was the familiar 'beeps' of the security code being punched in and then the doors slid open. She looked over to see Vaughn, in one of his suits, walking in and carrying a cup of coffee in one hand.
"Hi." Vaughn offered her and Marshall a small smile.
"Hi," she said.
"Oh, Agent Vaughn. . .or actually it'd be Mr. Vaughn since you're not with the CIA anymore although I was told that you were back on a temporary basis so I guess you'd still be an agent or-"
"Whichever you prefer," said Vaughn.
Marshall nodded. "Right, well, I was just about to hook Sydney up to the tracker. It won't take long."
Vaughn nodded. "Don't let me interrupt then."
Sydney smiled at Marshall as he approached her holding a metallic looking syringe. "Uh. . .this might sting a little."
She nodded. "Where?"
"It's uh, gonna go inside the skin of your upper arm."
"O.K.," she said, rolling up the sleeve of her T-shirt. Marshall hesitated slightly before he held the syringe to her arm and injected. As he had warned her, it had stung, but it wasn't much worse than the flu shots that she had received. "Is that all?"
Marshall nodded as he returned the syringe to the box. "Yeah. Um, it's a nano processor. It's linked to one of our satellites and should give us your location at all times." At her look, he added, "Just for the time being. I was told it wasn't supposed to be permanent so I used the tracker that lies just below the epidermis so that when it's time to remove it they won't need to, you know, cut too deep."
She smiled. "Thanks, Marshall."
He nodded and looked awkwardly from Vaughn to Sydney. "Uh, well, okay. I guess I should get back then."
"I'll see you soon," she said, giving him a small wave as he retreated out the medlab doors.
After the doors slid close behind Marshall, she turned to Vaughn. "So, uh, I heard I was getting sprung from here."
He nodded. "It's being cleared right now." He looked down at the coffee cup he was holding and held it out to her. "This is for you. I figured you'd need a decent cup of coffee today."
"Thanks. And yeah, the coffee here leaves a lot to be desired." She took the proffered cup and sipped it gratefully. "So, uh, how much longer do I have to be here?"
"We can leave right now if you want."
"Really?"
He smiled. "Well, we could leave the medlab but you're not quite cleared for leaving the Ops Center yet. I thought that uh, you might want to come to my office while we wait for your clearance to go through." He cleared his throat nervously. "I thought maybe you'd have enough of this place by now."
She grinned. "You're right. I have."
******CIA Joint Task Force Operations Center, Vaughn's Temporary Office******
Vaughn's office was different. It wasn't the office she remembered, but then again, that had been in the old Ops Center. Still, his office was an actual office and not a desk in the middle of the large rotunda of the Ops Center. His 'new' office was a small room accessible by several small hallways and connecting doors that she didn't recognize. She suspected that he might have taken the circuitous route because he didn't want her to know exactly where his office was located within the Ops Center. Not that she blamed him for his 'cloak and dagger' routine, since she knew that without clearance, she shouldn't be shown more of the Ops Center than necessary, but she was still irked by it. Anything and everything that reminded her of the drastic change in circumstances that she had suffered bothered her.
"Uh, here. . .have a seat," said Vaughn as he adjusted one of the two chairs facing a standard office desk for her.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she slid into the chair.
Vaughn smiled and walked around the desk to his chair. [Whoa. Déjà vu. Again.] "So, uh, did you sleep okay?"
She shrugged. "Well enough."
"I was uh, just told that you don't need to undergo any more tests."
"Great," she said with a small smile.
There was a long, awkward pause before Vaughn cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess it was good to see Marshall again?"
She smiled. "Yeah it was. It really helped seeing him."
"Helped? In what way?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "Just, you know. . .seeing another familiar face and uh, Marshall's just. . .he's really great and I guess I needed that. The familiarity I mean."
He nodded. "I can understand that."
She looked around his office in an effort to avoid probing the subject further. "It's doesn't seem to suit you."
"What?"
She waved her hand around the office. "The office. Doesn't really feel like it's yours."
"Oh, yeah. Well, it's just a loaner. I'm not really in the CIA so they put me into a little office out of the way. Harder for me to steal secrets from them and report it to the NSA that way."
He had said the last part with a sardonic smile but she could also tell that there was some truth in it. "Still some turf battles going on huh?"
"To put it mildly." He sighed. "Anyway, my office at the NSA actually looks lived in. Which means it's a controlled mess."
She chuckled. She remembered that about Vaughn. He threw his clothes on the floor, like most men, but it was all in a nice little heap. "As long as you know where every messy pile of papers are right?"
He grinned. "Exactly. But my wife doesn't appreciate it when it's piles of clothes."
Her smile froze on her face at the mention of his wife. And instantly, her reaction bothered her. This was a different world. Literally. And Vaughn and his wife shouldn't bother her because he wasn't the same person she knew. Of course, what she knew rationally wasn't always how she responded emotionally. "Right."
Vaughn looked at her uncomfortably for a beat. "Listen, Syd-"
"So how long have you been married?" she asked in a voice that sounded strange even to her. It was this falsely cheerful voice. The kind of voice you used when someone had caught you crying and you wanted to pretend that you hadn't.
"Uh. . .about a year and a half."
She did the math quickly in her head. And then, she somehow just knew who Vaughn's wife was. "You married Alice?" She blurted it out before thinking and the instant she had said it, she wanted the words back because Vaughn's reaction was exactly as she knew it would be. Confusion, and then shock.
"H-how did you know I married Alice? How do you know Alice?"
She stared at him in what she knew had to be a good imitation of a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. "Uh. . .I. . ."
Vaughn was still staring at her with that 'what-the-hell' expression. "I-I'm pretty sure I never mentioned Alice to you."
"You did," she said quickly. "At the car wash remember?"
She could literally see his mind flashing back to their meet at the car wash and she was praying with all her might that he wouldn't remember the details too clearly. But as she saw the look of remembrance pass over his face, quickly followed by a look of even deeper confusion, she knew that she wasn't getting out of this one easily. "Yeah, but I never mentioned Alice by name. I just said she was my girlfriend."
[Damn it! Damn it!] She swallowed while frantically searching for a plausible answer. She was saved however by a rap on Vaughn's open office door. They both turned to find Kendall standing there, regarding them with a grim expression.
Kendall looked exactly the same, and she suspected, he would act just as she remembered. It didn't take her long to be proven right. "Mr. Vaughn. I was told you were here. Along with Ms. Bristow."
Displeasure was clearly evident in Kendall's voice but Vaughn either didn't notice or simply chose to ignore it. "And whoever told you was clearly well informed. What can I do for you?"
Kendall pursed his lips and she had to stifle a smile. [The more things change. . .] "I just came to inform you that Ms. Bristow had been cleared to return to the safe house." He turned and looked at her for the first time. "I assume you've been fitted with the tracker."
She nodded. "Yes."
He gave a curt nod. "Fine." He turned back to Vaughn. "Then, anytime, Mr. Vaughn. And I don't have to remind you about the proper protocol for escorting a non-classified person through the Ops Center."
Vaughn stood up. "No, you don't."
Kendall cast one last look at them before he turned and walked out. Vaughn stared after him for a bit before turning back to her. "You don't like him do you?"
He smiled wryly. "What makes you say that?"
She smiled, grateful that Kendall's interruption had put his mind off her slip about Alice. Or at least she hoped. "I'm a trained spy remember? I'm supposed to pick up on those things."
He chuckled and then came around the desk, indicating the door. "So, what do you say we get out of here?"
************CIA Safe House, Late Evening***********
She had been asleep. But since Hong Kong, she didn't sleep the way she normally did. Afraid to lose consciousness too fully, she somehow managed to sleep but not deeply. As if her conscious mind was always there, lurking just beneath the veil of drowsiness. So it hadn't been hard for her to sense that someone had entered the safe house. They had broken in because she hadn't heard the key in the front door. And they were creeping around, with the lights out.
She laid perfectly still, keeping her breathing even to give the impression that she was asleep, while she listened carefully. Whoever was in the house was making their way to her room. Slowly and steadily.
She heard them pause outside her door before they opened it and walked in. They took a second to close the door before they crept towards the bed. It took all of her training to remain perfectly still. And somehow, despite her racing heartbeat, she managed to keep her breathing slow and steady.
She watched the person's shadow on the wall as it crept closer and closer to her. When they were in the perfect position, she moved quickly.
Swinging her feet out from underneath the covers, she landed a blow square in their chest.
"Oooohh!"
The intruder keeled over but Sydney wasn't done. She brought her arm down on the intruder's back, hitting them hard in the back of the neck and sending them crashing to their knees. She was just about to deliver a blow from her knee to the intruder's face when a familiar voice called out to her.
"Sydney! It's me!"
She was so surprised that her defenses didn't have time to spring up. "Mom?!"
[ ] denotes Sydney's thoughts
***********CIA/Joint Task Force Operations Center, May 9, 2003, Morning**********
It hadn't taken her long to understand the significance of 'H.G. Wells.' Even if she hadn't studied literature in college, she would have still figured it out. H.G. Wells was well known for his science fiction novel, "The Time Machine," which was essentially about time traveling.
But after pondering that all night, she still wasn't sure what her mother intended for her to understand.
[Was she telling me that time travel was involved? But how? I'm exactly in the same time I remembered, even though everyone else thinks I've 'lost' two years. So did everyone *else* time travel and I'm in some. . .what?]
She shook her head. [Why is it that every time I think I've got another piece of the puzzle figured out, the puzzle just gets more complicated?]
Before she could think of it any longer, there was the soft beeping of the access code, and then the doors to her medical observation unit slid open. She had expected to see Vaughn, but instead, a familiar face, with the same shy smile, greeted her.
"Hi Sydney."
"Marshall!"
Marshall looked just as she remembered him. A little awkward, a little shy, and very endearing. He hadn't changed at all. But then again, neither had anyone else, in a physical sense at least. But she recognized the look of uncertainty and concern in his eyes that everyone seemed to regard her with these days. She went over to him and embraced him for several long minutes.
"Uh. . .how are you?" he asked, when they finally broke apart.
"I'm better now that you're here," she said with a big smile and was rewarded with a full Marshall J. Flinkman blush. "How are *you*? I mean it couldn't have been easy finding out about SD-6."
Marshall shook his head. "No, no, it wasn't. I try not to think about it too much 'cause you know if I do, I tend to start sobbing which leads to hyperventilating and then I have to sit and breathe into a bag for a good 30 minutes which would interfere with my job and that wouldn't be good since I'm supposed to have the new computer filtering systems set up by next week and that's. . ." Marshall stopped abruptly. "It's good to see you, Sydney."
She grinned. "It's really good to see you, Marshall."
Marshall looked around the medlab uncomfortably. "Uh, it's. . .when you went missing, things were really bad at SD-6. Everyone there really missed you."
"Even when you found out that I was a double agent?"
"Oh, well that was definitely one of those 'Whoa!' moments, you know? But when your father explained things after we got debriefed by the CIA, it. . .it was kind of hard to not see his point of view."
"My father debriefed you?"
Marshall nodded. "I think he insisted on debriefing some people personally."
She nodded and there was a long awkward pause as both just smiled uncomfortably at each other. Finally Marshall cleared his throat and indicated a small box that he was holding.
"Uh, I'm supposed to. . .uh, prep you."
"Prep me?" she asked, as she eyed the box warily. "For what?"
Marshall went over to the cot and set the box down. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'd thought for sure Agent Vaughn would have. Or at least your mother, I mean Director Bristow, since she was the one who asked me to handle this."
At the mention of her mother, Sydney's mind snapped into overdrive. "My mother asked you to do this personally/"
Marshall nodded as he fidgeted with something inside the box. "She came up to me about an hour ago and asked if I could handle this myself. She said it would be easier for you to have a familiar face. Which I can understand since it can't be easy being cooped up in here. It's like a hospital here except without the friendly nurses or the jello. You know the kind they give you in those little plastic bowls that are really small like you used to have when you were in school and ate at the cafeteria."
"What exactly are you supposed to do?"
"Oh it's just a simple thing," said Marshall as he took out a small black box. He held it up for her to see. "I'm just supposed to hook you up with a tracker."
"A tracker?"
Marshall nodded. "The CIA wants to be able to keep track of you for the time being. I mean until you're cleared for formal duty again. We just don't, uh, want to lose you again."
"Why would you need to monitor me if I'm here?"
Marshall looked at her in surprise. "You didn't know? I-I mean. . .well of course if you didn't know about me and the monitoring device then you wouldn't know that you're going to be sent back to the safe house."
"Do you know when?"
"Today I think. Otherwise, your mother wouldn't have requested that I handle this immediately."
Sydney's mind was racing. She was getting out? [Does that mean I passed the tests? No, of course not. If I did, then I wouldn't need Marshall's tracker. So if I didn't pass, why were they sending me to the less secure safe house?] And then her mind latched onto what Marshall had just said. . .'otherwise your mother wouldn't have requested that I handle this immediately.'
She knew that there had to be something else going on. First the clue about H.G. Wells and now sending Marshall in to see her on some pretense of having him hook her up with a tracking device. Even if she didn't know what the current CIA structure was like, she'd venture to guess that Marshall didn't routinely handle something like this.
[No, my mother sent him to see me for another reason.]
"Uh, Syd? You ready?" Marshall looked at her expectantly.
She still wasn't sure what was going on, but she decided to follow her instincts. "Uh, Marshall. . .can I ask you something?" He nodded. "I mean it's gonna sound kind of. . .strange."
Marshall smiled. "I'm used to strange."
She paused and drew in a deep breath. [Just do it. Just spit it out.] "Uh, Marshall, is, uh, is time traveling possible?"
Marshall looked at her for a beat. "You mean like in reality?"
She nodded. "Is it possible?"
He considered her question for several minutes. "In theory, it is. I mean even Einstein would have to concede that it's possible based on his theory of relativity. It certainly doesn't eliminate the possibility in any conclusive way."
"How is it possible? I mean, what exactly makes in possible in theory?"
Marshall straightened, which she knew was a sign that he was going to launch into a tangent-filled explanation. It was a good thing for her that she enjoyed his tangents and they never distracted her from his primary message. "O.K. You know Einstein's whole 'E=mc squared' theory?" She nodded. "His theory of relativity is based on the principle that there is no absolute time. And that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. But the flip side of that is that if you can travel faster than the speed of light, you could, in theory, travel back in time. Well, your time of course since there's no fixed, absolute time."
She shook her head. There were no tangents in that explanation and yet, even with her high level of intelligence, she still didn't grasp it. "OK, let's take it a little slower," she said with a smile. "Why exactly can't things travel faster than the speed of light?"
"OK, see, Einstein's formula, 'E=mcsquared'? That means that an energy that an object has due to its motion will ultimately add to its mass. So see if the motion of an object increases so that it approaches the speed of light, its mass will get bigger and bigger, which requires more and more energy in order to keep it at that high speed. And so far, nothing has been able to produce that kind of energy or power so nothing can move faster than the speed of light."
[Power? Like Rambaldi-type power?] "Uh, Marshall, let's just say that such an energy exists and you can travel at the speed of light? Then what? You can go back in time?"
Marshall nodded before he looked at her curiously. "Do you think you traveled back in time?"
She forced herself to laugh. "No, of course not. I'm just. . .you know.. .considering. I mean this whole experience is so weird that something as 'out there' as time travel seems reasonable sometimes."
"Time travel's not all that 'out there,'" said Marshall. "I mean if we could generate the kind of energy we do by splitting an atom, it's not impossible to imagine that someday we might find a way to generate enough power to get an object to move faster than the speed of light. Or that we could open up a wormhole."
"Wormhole?"
"It's uh. . .a warp of the space-time continuum." At her puzzled expression, he elaborated. "Kind of like a shortcut between two places. Did you ever see that show? 'Sliders'? They traveled to different dimensions by sliding through wormholes basically. It was a pretty cool show for a while and Kari Wuhrer? She was like. . .'Wow!'"
Sydney smiled. "Uh, I'm not sure I fully understand but let's say that time travel is possible, doesn't it present problems? I mean, wouldn't you age in reverse when you travel back in time? Or at least run into your younger selves?"
"Ah, see, the twin paradox takes care of that."
"Twin paradox?"
Marshall nodded. "'Cause see, the theory of relativity says there's no such thing as absolute time, right? So that would mean different people would observe different times. It's like everyone has their own perception of time. So see the twin paradox says that if one twin is left here on Earth and then another goes off in this space ship and travels near the speed of light and you know, goes out and explores space a bit, when that twin comes back, he would be younger than the twin on Earth. He might even be the exact same age he was when he left if the entire time he was in a sleep state like they put the Robinson family in." He took in her perplexed expression. "You know the Robinson family? From 'Lost in Space'? With the robot and 'Danger, Will Robinson. Danger!" Marshall had changed his voice to a robot-like drone at the last part.
She shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, I must have missed that."
Oh, it's okay," said Marshall with a smile. "It wasn't as good as the series. Though the special effects were much better in the movie than the series, especially with that mask that comes down over their faces and. . .anyway, they go into hyper-sleep in the movie while they're traveling hundreds of light years away so when they wake up, they're the exact same age they were when they left, even though, technically hundreds of years had passed."
"So what you're saying is that if someone travels back through time, they'd be the same age they were before they did the. . .time traveling?"
"They should be. In most of the movies they are. I mean like in 'Back to the Future' Michael J. Fox is the exact same age he was in 1985 even though he traveled back to when he wasn't even born yet. Which is just as well since watching him as an egg in his mother's body wouldn't be as interesting. Unless they got Bruce Willis to be the egg's voice like they did in 'Look Who's Talking." The first one. The second one with Roseanne was. . .not so good."
She was really trying to absorb all of this but it was proving difficult. Yet she forced herself to press on. "O.K. So let's say that time travel is possible. I mean why haven't we seen any future visitors coming to warn us of things? I mean wouldn't someone from the future have thought to warn somebody of say Hitler? Or the World Wars? The dangers of the nuclear age?"
Marshall was really into this topic because he was doing that little bounce that he usually did when he was explaining his latest gadget. "O.K. See there's some theories about that. One is the 'fixed time' theory that says that the past is fixed and can't be changed so if you go back in time, you're stuck with the way things are. That was kind of like what happened in that Kathleen Turner movie? You know how she hated being married to Nicolas Cage so she went back to high school with the intention of dumping him but she ended up staying married to him after all?"
"But what if things had changed? Like everything?"
"Well, the other theory is called the 'alternate histories hypothesis' which basically says that when you travel back in time you enter alternate histories, different than the fixed or recorded histories."
"And you can change things?"
"You already did just by traveling back through time."
"But can you change it back? I mean to the way it was before you traveled back into time?"
"In theory, you could. I mean you couldn't get it back perfectly the way it was originally. Like in 'Back to the Future' you know how Michael J. Fox goes back in time to the 60's and then when he goes back to 1985, things had changed. His father was successful and his father's nemesis, Biff, was this mechanic who had to wax and take care of all the McFly's cool cars? I mean things were kind of back to normal. They still lived in the same house and Marty. . .that's Michael J. Fox's character. . .he still had the same brother and sister and the same girlfriend but things were better for him."
A spark of hope flared within her. For the first time since she had awoken in Hong Kong, she felt like there was a way to 'fix' things. Of course the way that she was envisioning was theoretically possible but realistically impossible. But at least there was some hope. "O.K. But let's say you end up in the same time that you remember but everything's different. I mean, is time traveling involved then?"
"Could be," said Marshall considering. "Or you could be in an alternate dimension, which really is a form of time traveling. What exactly do you mean 'the same time'?"
She considered his question and the best way to answer it, without giving anything away. [I don't need to have Marshall thinking that I've lost my mind.] "Uh. . .well, let's say that you're in the present, like now, and then you go to sleep and when you wake up, everything's different. Like the people you knew aren't the same. Or how you remember things."
"That kind of sounds like 'Back to the Future 2'" Marshall smiled sheepishly at her look. "I was a big fan of Christopher Lloyd." A pause as he took in her lack of understanding. "He played 'Doc' who was like this genius. See, Doc built a time machine out of a Delorean and he was always figuring things out. I always wanted to be that guy. Plus he got the girl and a really cool flying train at the end of the trilogy."
She smiled. "You are the guy who always figures things out Marshall."
Marshall blushed. "Oh. . .thanks. Uh. . .anyway, see in the second movie, Biff steals this almanac from the future and then takes the Delorean and goes back in time to give it to his younger self so that his younger self can use it to win bets on sporting events and get rich. So then when Marty goes back to his time, 1985, everything was different since Biff wasn't the mechanic anymore but this filthy rich businessman and the town where Marty lived was under Biff's thumb and Marty's mother was married to Biff and she had gotten her. . .well you know. . ' Marshall stopped and awkwardly indicated his chest. "She got them. . .uh, fixed. And also Biff had murdered Marty's father. It was like a whole new world, but then Doc figured out that because Biff altered the past, they were living in an altered future."
"And he changed that?" she asked. "I-I mean, Marty, I assume he went back to change things and then things went back to normal in 1985 again?"
Marshall nodded. "Right. After they stole the almanac back from Biff in the 60's, when Marty went back to 1985, it was like he remembered it. At least the better version of his life in 1985."
Again that spark of hope flared within her. "Uh, Marshall. . .is it possible to time travel without knowing that you're time traveling?"
"Not unless you're unconscious," said Marshall with a grin. "I mean that would be the ultimate joyride, especially if you're going through a wormhole or in a craft that could go faster than the speed of light. It'd be pretty hard to not know that."
"B-but if you were unconscious, it's possible? And then you'd wake up in a whole new world even though not much time had passed right?"
"You'd be Jennifer!" Marshall exclaimed, which startled her a bit.
"Who's Jennifer?"
"Oh, she was Marty's girlfriend. And in the second movie, she faints when she sees herself in the future. So Marty and Doc take her back to 1985 and they put her on the porch swing in the front of her house, only that was the 1985 where Biff was in control of everything. I mean she doesn't wake up or anything until after Marty and Doc had fixed things so that it was back to the 'normal' 1985." Marshall did a funny air quote around the word normal here. "So anyway, if she had woken up in that altered 1985, it would be like she had time traveled and not known it." He stopped and considered something. "Well, technically she did time travel and not know it so yeah, I guess it is possible."
She was surprised at how things were beginning to make sense, despite the fact that she didn't understand half of what Marshall was saying. Before she could probe him further, however, there was the familiar 'beeps' of the security code being punched in and then the doors slid open. She looked over to see Vaughn, in one of his suits, walking in and carrying a cup of coffee in one hand.
"Hi." Vaughn offered her and Marshall a small smile.
"Hi," she said.
"Oh, Agent Vaughn. . .or actually it'd be Mr. Vaughn since you're not with the CIA anymore although I was told that you were back on a temporary basis so I guess you'd still be an agent or-"
"Whichever you prefer," said Vaughn.
Marshall nodded. "Right, well, I was just about to hook Sydney up to the tracker. It won't take long."
Vaughn nodded. "Don't let me interrupt then."
Sydney smiled at Marshall as he approached her holding a metallic looking syringe. "Uh. . .this might sting a little."
She nodded. "Where?"
"It's uh, gonna go inside the skin of your upper arm."
"O.K.," she said, rolling up the sleeve of her T-shirt. Marshall hesitated slightly before he held the syringe to her arm and injected. As he had warned her, it had stung, but it wasn't much worse than the flu shots that she had received. "Is that all?"
Marshall nodded as he returned the syringe to the box. "Yeah. Um, it's a nano processor. It's linked to one of our satellites and should give us your location at all times." At her look, he added, "Just for the time being. I was told it wasn't supposed to be permanent so I used the tracker that lies just below the epidermis so that when it's time to remove it they won't need to, you know, cut too deep."
She smiled. "Thanks, Marshall."
He nodded and looked awkwardly from Vaughn to Sydney. "Uh, well, okay. I guess I should get back then."
"I'll see you soon," she said, giving him a small wave as he retreated out the medlab doors.
After the doors slid close behind Marshall, she turned to Vaughn. "So, uh, I heard I was getting sprung from here."
He nodded. "It's being cleared right now." He looked down at the coffee cup he was holding and held it out to her. "This is for you. I figured you'd need a decent cup of coffee today."
"Thanks. And yeah, the coffee here leaves a lot to be desired." She took the proffered cup and sipped it gratefully. "So, uh, how much longer do I have to be here?"
"We can leave right now if you want."
"Really?"
He smiled. "Well, we could leave the medlab but you're not quite cleared for leaving the Ops Center yet. I thought that uh, you might want to come to my office while we wait for your clearance to go through." He cleared his throat nervously. "I thought maybe you'd have enough of this place by now."
She grinned. "You're right. I have."
******CIA Joint Task Force Operations Center, Vaughn's Temporary Office******
Vaughn's office was different. It wasn't the office she remembered, but then again, that had been in the old Ops Center. Still, his office was an actual office and not a desk in the middle of the large rotunda of the Ops Center. His 'new' office was a small room accessible by several small hallways and connecting doors that she didn't recognize. She suspected that he might have taken the circuitous route because he didn't want her to know exactly where his office was located within the Ops Center. Not that she blamed him for his 'cloak and dagger' routine, since she knew that without clearance, she shouldn't be shown more of the Ops Center than necessary, but she was still irked by it. Anything and everything that reminded her of the drastic change in circumstances that she had suffered bothered her.
"Uh, here. . .have a seat," said Vaughn as he adjusted one of the two chairs facing a standard office desk for her.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she slid into the chair.
Vaughn smiled and walked around the desk to his chair. [Whoa. Déjà vu. Again.] "So, uh, did you sleep okay?"
She shrugged. "Well enough."
"I was uh, just told that you don't need to undergo any more tests."
"Great," she said with a small smile.
There was a long, awkward pause before Vaughn cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess it was good to see Marshall again?"
She smiled. "Yeah it was. It really helped seeing him."
"Helped? In what way?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "Just, you know. . .seeing another familiar face and uh, Marshall's just. . .he's really great and I guess I needed that. The familiarity I mean."
He nodded. "I can understand that."
She looked around his office in an effort to avoid probing the subject further. "It's doesn't seem to suit you."
"What?"
She waved her hand around the office. "The office. Doesn't really feel like it's yours."
"Oh, yeah. Well, it's just a loaner. I'm not really in the CIA so they put me into a little office out of the way. Harder for me to steal secrets from them and report it to the NSA that way."
He had said the last part with a sardonic smile but she could also tell that there was some truth in it. "Still some turf battles going on huh?"
"To put it mildly." He sighed. "Anyway, my office at the NSA actually looks lived in. Which means it's a controlled mess."
She chuckled. She remembered that about Vaughn. He threw his clothes on the floor, like most men, but it was all in a nice little heap. "As long as you know where every messy pile of papers are right?"
He grinned. "Exactly. But my wife doesn't appreciate it when it's piles of clothes."
Her smile froze on her face at the mention of his wife. And instantly, her reaction bothered her. This was a different world. Literally. And Vaughn and his wife shouldn't bother her because he wasn't the same person she knew. Of course, what she knew rationally wasn't always how she responded emotionally. "Right."
Vaughn looked at her uncomfortably for a beat. "Listen, Syd-"
"So how long have you been married?" she asked in a voice that sounded strange even to her. It was this falsely cheerful voice. The kind of voice you used when someone had caught you crying and you wanted to pretend that you hadn't.
"Uh. . .about a year and a half."
She did the math quickly in her head. And then, she somehow just knew who Vaughn's wife was. "You married Alice?" She blurted it out before thinking and the instant she had said it, she wanted the words back because Vaughn's reaction was exactly as she knew it would be. Confusion, and then shock.
"H-how did you know I married Alice? How do you know Alice?"
She stared at him in what she knew had to be a good imitation of a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. "Uh. . .I. . ."
Vaughn was still staring at her with that 'what-the-hell' expression. "I-I'm pretty sure I never mentioned Alice to you."
"You did," she said quickly. "At the car wash remember?"
She could literally see his mind flashing back to their meet at the car wash and she was praying with all her might that he wouldn't remember the details too clearly. But as she saw the look of remembrance pass over his face, quickly followed by a look of even deeper confusion, she knew that she wasn't getting out of this one easily. "Yeah, but I never mentioned Alice by name. I just said she was my girlfriend."
[Damn it! Damn it!] She swallowed while frantically searching for a plausible answer. She was saved however by a rap on Vaughn's open office door. They both turned to find Kendall standing there, regarding them with a grim expression.
Kendall looked exactly the same, and she suspected, he would act just as she remembered. It didn't take her long to be proven right. "Mr. Vaughn. I was told you were here. Along with Ms. Bristow."
Displeasure was clearly evident in Kendall's voice but Vaughn either didn't notice or simply chose to ignore it. "And whoever told you was clearly well informed. What can I do for you?"
Kendall pursed his lips and she had to stifle a smile. [The more things change. . .] "I just came to inform you that Ms. Bristow had been cleared to return to the safe house." He turned and looked at her for the first time. "I assume you've been fitted with the tracker."
She nodded. "Yes."
He gave a curt nod. "Fine." He turned back to Vaughn. "Then, anytime, Mr. Vaughn. And I don't have to remind you about the proper protocol for escorting a non-classified person through the Ops Center."
Vaughn stood up. "No, you don't."
Kendall cast one last look at them before he turned and walked out. Vaughn stared after him for a bit before turning back to her. "You don't like him do you?"
He smiled wryly. "What makes you say that?"
She smiled, grateful that Kendall's interruption had put his mind off her slip about Alice. Or at least she hoped. "I'm a trained spy remember? I'm supposed to pick up on those things."
He chuckled and then came around the desk, indicating the door. "So, what do you say we get out of here?"
************CIA Safe House, Late Evening***********
She had been asleep. But since Hong Kong, she didn't sleep the way she normally did. Afraid to lose consciousness too fully, she somehow managed to sleep but not deeply. As if her conscious mind was always there, lurking just beneath the veil of drowsiness. So it hadn't been hard for her to sense that someone had entered the safe house. They had broken in because she hadn't heard the key in the front door. And they were creeping around, with the lights out.
She laid perfectly still, keeping her breathing even to give the impression that she was asleep, while she listened carefully. Whoever was in the house was making their way to her room. Slowly and steadily.
She heard them pause outside her door before they opened it and walked in. They took a second to close the door before they crept towards the bed. It took all of her training to remain perfectly still. And somehow, despite her racing heartbeat, she managed to keep her breathing slow and steady.
She watched the person's shadow on the wall as it crept closer and closer to her. When they were in the perfect position, she moved quickly.
Swinging her feet out from underneath the covers, she landed a blow square in their chest.
"Oooohh!"
The intruder keeled over but Sydney wasn't done. She brought her arm down on the intruder's back, hitting them hard in the back of the neck and sending them crashing to their knees. She was just about to deliver a blow from her knee to the intruder's face when a familiar voice called out to her.
"Sydney! It's me!"
She was so surprised that her defenses didn't have time to spring up. "Mom?!"