Chapter 29
Six Days, Seven Hours, Nine Minutes
"You see, Frank," Talmadge maintained, "throughout history of the latter half of the twentieth century, it had long been speculated – mostly by thinkers within the UFO community and some noted conspiracy theorists – that the United States' ongoing flirtation with nuclear power was the single most important event in capturing the attention of an advanced alien civilization. Despite what any of us may think of the Atomic Age, the dropping of the hydrogen bomb on, first, Hiroshima and, later, Nagasaki signified a scientific and cultural renaissance within the galactic community. The detonation of nuclear weapons signified that the human race had reached a new plateau in the field of science. Little did we know, others were watching from across the stars. They weren't necessarily waiting for us to make the technological leap, but they were still watching. Once we did, they came here in their ships ... first, to observe ... second, to establish contact."
"Establish contact?"
The director smiled. "Precisely." Suddenly, he held up his hands. "Oh, don't get me wrong. History in our timeline quite possibly unfolded like it did in yours. The events in Roswell took place. The technology from that downed spacecraft was used in the construction of the Sphere. However, little did we know that representatives from the stars had met – in privacy – with a delegation speaking on behalf of all mankind."
"For what purpose?"
"Principally," Mentnor took over the tale, "it was an agreement of terms."
"Terms?" Parker asked. "What kind of terms? Make sure to keep your nukes in your backyard?"
"Nothing quite so radical," he quipped. "No, the aliens wanted to continue their study of our various societies."
"Why would they want to study us?" It wasn't making much sense to Parker, and he desperately wanted to understand. "It sounds like we were still using Beta machines while they were burning CDs by just thinking about them, so what did Space MENSA want from the Neanderthals?"
"These travelers belonged to an incredibly sophisticated race," Mentnor explained. "They had, quite literally, made extraordinary leaps and bounds – socially, psychologically, and technologically. In fact, they had evolved so quickly – they had advanced their civilization so dramatically in such a compressed period of time – that, somehow, they lost touch with how they came to be the race of people they were." Parker thought he saw the glimmer of wisdom in the scientist's eye. Was it envy, or was it compassion for a people who had lost their identity in favor of science? He didn't know. "These aliens hoped that studying us – a far more primitive species – they could perhaps unlock a clearer understanding of themselves ... who they were, where they had come from, and how they evolved." The older man shrugged. "Strictly from an anthropological point of view, I suppose it made perfect sense – against the backdrop of cosmic existence. Sometimes the hardest answers to find can only be answered by the simplest of people. I don't know if I ever believed them, but I understood why they were looking to Earth for the answers to their questions."
"So," Parker mused aloud, "in your timeline, everyone was aware of an alien presence?"
"Not everyone," Talmadge corrected. "As I said, this was a select group of individuals. As they've come down through the ages, we've called them the Illuminati."
"I've heard of them," the chrononaut said. "They exist in my timeline, only they're a rumor mostly. But – you're telling me that in your timeline, in your reality – they're a known group?"
"That's correct."
"Geesh," he retorted. "I hope they don't have their own lobbyists for Congress."
The director smiled. "Once Frank Parker crashed the Sphere with the airliner en route to destroy the first of the Twin Towers, he caused an explosion of such magnitude that Earth once again caught the attention of these aliens. As they were once drawn to us for study in the mid 1940's, they now returned in full force. Frank Parker had convinced them that mankind had crossed another barrier, stepping beyond the Atomic Age into an Age of Chronology." Talmadge shook his head, finding the tale almost too hard to believe. "By their definition, Frank Parker – a human – had mastered the science of Time Travel – an ability they knew they had accidentally given us access to some sixty odd years earlier with the events of Roswell – and that brought their leaders to a second meeting with the Illuminati ... only, this time, the heads of various world organizations and governments were also contacted. So, yes, in our reality, society is very aware that a higher intelligence has made contact. They aren't aware of the extent of the dialogue that, even today, continues between our two very different races, but citizens of Earth know that we are definitely far from alone in the universe."
Slowly, Parker pieced together what such a series of events might mean for history. "These aliens ... they aided in the manufacture of another Sphere?" He took a few steps around the glass wall as he thought aloud. "Your Frank Parker showed them that mankind had crossed a line – had achieved a higher plane of existence – so they shared their technology openly?" Stopping in his tracks, he shook his head. "This is too weird!"
Talmadge laughed. "That's right, Frank."
"Our worlds are not so very different, Frank," Mentnor underscored. "Again, there are events that link these two timelines together. That's not to say that all events with have parallels."
"But alien contact?" Parker reasoned. "That's just ... I can't even begin to imagine!"
"It certainly set global defenses on high alert for some months to come," Talmadge agreed. "As the days wore on and the various countries of the world realized that the aliens – as best as could be determined – posed absolutely no threat to any man, woman, or child, people returned to their lives. Things went back to normal. After all, the government was meeting with the aliens on a regular basis. Yes, the aliens provided a gift to the United States by supplying us with another Sphere – think of it as a temporal Statue of Liberty – and Project BackStep was allowed to continue ... with certain restrictions."
Parker raised an eyebrow. "What kind of restrictions?"
"An alien delegate – Larnord – sits on the NSA Advisory Committee that oversees and approves all BackStep operations," Talmadge clarified. "Now, with the blessing of the NSA and the aliens, we're allowed to engage in BackSteps that are reviewed and endorsed by a civilization with a very efficient grasp of time travel. This ensures us that we're not radically altering our timeline so much to the point that we cause any type of rupture in the space/time continuum."
Planting on hand on the glass, Parker stood completely still. "This is incredible," he finally said. "I can't believe ... you're telling me an alien works at the NSA?"
"There are certain elements of our ongoing communication with their species that aren't exactly public knowledge, Frank," Talmadge added. "The Presidential Advisory Committee felt that too much disclosure would force the American people – in particular – to rethink what influence it would accept from these space visitors."
"And all this was caused by the explosion of the first Sphere?"
"All that and more," Mentnor explained. "Frank, what you did ... well, what our Frank Parker did ... he opened a portal that didn't close for several months."
Confused, Parker turned to the scientist. "What do you mean, Isaac?"
"That single event – the rupture of a craft designed for temporal operations – did cause a rip in the fabric of time," he went on. "You have to understand that time is a very, very delicate weave, and what we know now ... well, we were only making the best educated guesses. Now, we have facts upon which to base whether or not a BackStep would only serve the domino effect for far more devastating events. Somehow, what our Frank Parker did caught the attention of chrononauts from other realities – it seems that many, many timelines share some form of recovered technology from the Roswell crash, and it seems that many, many societies put the surviving technology to similar use."
"What Isaac is putting politely, Frank," Talmadge took over, "is that, suddenly, our world was flooded by visits from chrononauts from other timelines." He sighed heavily. "By crashing the Sphere into the airliner, Frank Parker saved the world months of unimaginable pain ... but he accidentally weakened the barriers that separated our reality from others ... and he accidentally caused events we could never have anticipated."
"What?" Parker asked. "What did he do?"
"It brings us to the reason of your containment, Frank," Mentnor assured the man. "You see, time travel within your own continuum is, on the cellular level, limited in terms of the dangers. Of course, I would imagine that you've experienced some physical trauma as a result of BackStepping. Pain. Minor impairment of motor skills for a short period of time immediately following your trip back in time. Bleeding from the eyes ... sometimes, the ears ... or other orifices of your body." The older man glanced away for several seconds before continuing. "As it would turn out, these time travelers from other realities ... when they made contact with people of our reality, the results have almost always been fatal."
Parker shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Isaac, are you saying ... are you saying that I'm some sort of walking lethal infection?"
"That's a polite way of putting it, Frank," Talmadge answered. "You've given us the courtesy of listening while we filled you in on the differences between your world and ours, so I'm going to repay that courtesy by being perfectly blunt." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he faced the man – separately only by the dense pane of protective glass. "Think of yourself as an Angel of Death. Anyone you come into to contact with suffers accelerated physiological trauma. The effects are often immediate: high fever, nausea, an inability to focus. Over the next several hours to the next few days depending upon the person's metabolism, the cells of their tissue begin to break down in ways we've not been able to effectively treat." The man grimly shook his head. "In all of our recorded encounters with chrononauts – Frank Parker or otherwise – the longest victim has lasted was three days ... and, let me assure you, those were three very painful days before the woman's inevitable death."
"As a consequence," Mentnor added, "we established these containment procedures. Everything you've experienced since you arrived in our reality – the isolation – is completely necessary to ensure the survival of every living person on this planet."
Parker placed a hand on his chest. "You mean ... I infect them with death?"
"Only those you make contact with," Talmadge assured him. "It isn't anything contagious other between you and those you come into close proximity with. We've taken precautions, regardless, in our efforts to further understand the effects of such an encounter – that's why you might recall several of the field operatives wearing CDC-issued protective gear before you were placed in the isolation chamber."
"But ... Bradley, I have met people," Parker suddenly recalled aloud. "There was this old man who ran a restaurant after I arrived." He struggled with the memories of the last several hours. "Ebdon! Ebdon Finkle! And those NSA field agents who picked me up! I've exposed them, Bradley! They were there not long after I arrived!"
The director held up his hands. "And all of them are currently under observation."
"Under observation where?"
"Here," Talmadge assured him. "They've been brought to Never Never Land. Olga and her team are attending to them as we speak."
"Olga?"
Parker couldn't remember whether or not he had heard her name before, but, in an instant, his heart pounded. She was here. In this other timeline – in this other reality – Olga Vukavitch was real. She was out there – somewhere – doing her job, like she always did, trying to save lives.
"She's here, Frank," Talmadge said. "Those people couldn't be in better hands."
Deliberately, the chrononaut nodded.
"That's why we've contained you, Frank," the man continued, "and why we've stopped you from completing your mission." He pulled out his hands and held them out in a gesture of surrender. "If we were to let you out – if we were to cooperate with you and send you out into the field to accomplish whatever it is you were sent here to do – every single person you can into contact with ... they'd quite possibly be dead within a matter of hours. As I've no doubt you understand, that's a risk the NSA cannot and will not allow."
The three of them stood silent for several long moments.
"Except," Parker finally said.
"Except?"
"Except this time," he explained, "you may not have that choice, Bradley."
The director cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"The parallelogram," Parker reminded him.
"What about it?"
"The parallelogram!" he practically shouted. "A parallelogram. It was four points, two at each end. Now, in Isaac's terms, those ends represent events that tie the timelines together."
"Yes, that's right."
"Think about it, Bradley," the young man challenged. "Isaac said that your world and my world run parallel. That much we know. We dress alike. We share the same doctors, dentists, tailors. Hell, we probably all wear boxers instead of briefs. That sort of little stuff." He held up his hands into a shape similar to the one Mentnor had made not long ago. He showed the rectangle to the two men on the other side of the glass. "But, in the bigger sense, we're linked by events of ... what did you say ... events of temporal significance?"
The older man sat silently, studying Parker's face.
"If that's true," the chrononaut pressed, "then isn't it possible that the reason I've been sent back in time is directly linked to preserving not only one but also the existence, the distinctiveness, the solidarity of both timelines?" Quickly, Parker nodded at the scientist. "Now, like I said when all of us started talking, I'm no Brainiac, but this parallel convergence thing? That doesn't sound like a whole lotta fun, if you catch my meaning. I don't know about you, but I, for one, wouldn't be looking forward to having my world collide chronologically with another one and face extinction, if that's what time has in store for me." He took a moment to compose his thoughts before explaining, "This event that would cause not only my world but yours to converge, wipe the slate clean, and leave one left standing in the center ring ... isn't it possible that the event I'm here to stop is the other end of the parallelogram? Isn't it possible that it's the only thing keeping our timelines separate?"
"I'm not following you, Talmadge replied.
Mentnor sat upright in his chair.
"I think I understand," he interrupted. "Bradley, listen to what Frank's saying." Again, he held up his hands, forming a rectangle with his fingers. "It's quite possible that this Frank Parker is here to accomplish a mission that our Frank Parker, may he rest in peace, will no longer have the chance to complete. So, it stands to reason that if Frank isn't allowed to complete his task – if we contain him here, if we keep him from averting whatever disaster he's been sent to correct – then the result could be the convergence of our two timelines ... into one."
Suddenly, the scientist glanced up at his former boss.
"Bradley, if we allowed that to happen, then we would be responsible for the end of life as we know it."
End of Chapter 29
Six Days, Seven Hours, Nine Minutes
"You see, Frank," Talmadge maintained, "throughout history of the latter half of the twentieth century, it had long been speculated – mostly by thinkers within the UFO community and some noted conspiracy theorists – that the United States' ongoing flirtation with nuclear power was the single most important event in capturing the attention of an advanced alien civilization. Despite what any of us may think of the Atomic Age, the dropping of the hydrogen bomb on, first, Hiroshima and, later, Nagasaki signified a scientific and cultural renaissance within the galactic community. The detonation of nuclear weapons signified that the human race had reached a new plateau in the field of science. Little did we know, others were watching from across the stars. They weren't necessarily waiting for us to make the technological leap, but they were still watching. Once we did, they came here in their ships ... first, to observe ... second, to establish contact."
"Establish contact?"
The director smiled. "Precisely." Suddenly, he held up his hands. "Oh, don't get me wrong. History in our timeline quite possibly unfolded like it did in yours. The events in Roswell took place. The technology from that downed spacecraft was used in the construction of the Sphere. However, little did we know that representatives from the stars had met – in privacy – with a delegation speaking on behalf of all mankind."
"For what purpose?"
"Principally," Mentnor took over the tale, "it was an agreement of terms."
"Terms?" Parker asked. "What kind of terms? Make sure to keep your nukes in your backyard?"
"Nothing quite so radical," he quipped. "No, the aliens wanted to continue their study of our various societies."
"Why would they want to study us?" It wasn't making much sense to Parker, and he desperately wanted to understand. "It sounds like we were still using Beta machines while they were burning CDs by just thinking about them, so what did Space MENSA want from the Neanderthals?"
"These travelers belonged to an incredibly sophisticated race," Mentnor explained. "They had, quite literally, made extraordinary leaps and bounds – socially, psychologically, and technologically. In fact, they had evolved so quickly – they had advanced their civilization so dramatically in such a compressed period of time – that, somehow, they lost touch with how they came to be the race of people they were." Parker thought he saw the glimmer of wisdom in the scientist's eye. Was it envy, or was it compassion for a people who had lost their identity in favor of science? He didn't know. "These aliens hoped that studying us – a far more primitive species – they could perhaps unlock a clearer understanding of themselves ... who they were, where they had come from, and how they evolved." The older man shrugged. "Strictly from an anthropological point of view, I suppose it made perfect sense – against the backdrop of cosmic existence. Sometimes the hardest answers to find can only be answered by the simplest of people. I don't know if I ever believed them, but I understood why they were looking to Earth for the answers to their questions."
"So," Parker mused aloud, "in your timeline, everyone was aware of an alien presence?"
"Not everyone," Talmadge corrected. "As I said, this was a select group of individuals. As they've come down through the ages, we've called them the Illuminati."
"I've heard of them," the chrononaut said. "They exist in my timeline, only they're a rumor mostly. But – you're telling me that in your timeline, in your reality – they're a known group?"
"That's correct."
"Geesh," he retorted. "I hope they don't have their own lobbyists for Congress."
The director smiled. "Once Frank Parker crashed the Sphere with the airliner en route to destroy the first of the Twin Towers, he caused an explosion of such magnitude that Earth once again caught the attention of these aliens. As they were once drawn to us for study in the mid 1940's, they now returned in full force. Frank Parker had convinced them that mankind had crossed another barrier, stepping beyond the Atomic Age into an Age of Chronology." Talmadge shook his head, finding the tale almost too hard to believe. "By their definition, Frank Parker – a human – had mastered the science of Time Travel – an ability they knew they had accidentally given us access to some sixty odd years earlier with the events of Roswell – and that brought their leaders to a second meeting with the Illuminati ... only, this time, the heads of various world organizations and governments were also contacted. So, yes, in our reality, society is very aware that a higher intelligence has made contact. They aren't aware of the extent of the dialogue that, even today, continues between our two very different races, but citizens of Earth know that we are definitely far from alone in the universe."
Slowly, Parker pieced together what such a series of events might mean for history. "These aliens ... they aided in the manufacture of another Sphere?" He took a few steps around the glass wall as he thought aloud. "Your Frank Parker showed them that mankind had crossed a line – had achieved a higher plane of existence – so they shared their technology openly?" Stopping in his tracks, he shook his head. "This is too weird!"
Talmadge laughed. "That's right, Frank."
"Our worlds are not so very different, Frank," Mentnor underscored. "Again, there are events that link these two timelines together. That's not to say that all events with have parallels."
"But alien contact?" Parker reasoned. "That's just ... I can't even begin to imagine!"
"It certainly set global defenses on high alert for some months to come," Talmadge agreed. "As the days wore on and the various countries of the world realized that the aliens – as best as could be determined – posed absolutely no threat to any man, woman, or child, people returned to their lives. Things went back to normal. After all, the government was meeting with the aliens on a regular basis. Yes, the aliens provided a gift to the United States by supplying us with another Sphere – think of it as a temporal Statue of Liberty – and Project BackStep was allowed to continue ... with certain restrictions."
Parker raised an eyebrow. "What kind of restrictions?"
"An alien delegate – Larnord – sits on the NSA Advisory Committee that oversees and approves all BackStep operations," Talmadge clarified. "Now, with the blessing of the NSA and the aliens, we're allowed to engage in BackSteps that are reviewed and endorsed by a civilization with a very efficient grasp of time travel. This ensures us that we're not radically altering our timeline so much to the point that we cause any type of rupture in the space/time continuum."
Planting on hand on the glass, Parker stood completely still. "This is incredible," he finally said. "I can't believe ... you're telling me an alien works at the NSA?"
"There are certain elements of our ongoing communication with their species that aren't exactly public knowledge, Frank," Talmadge added. "The Presidential Advisory Committee felt that too much disclosure would force the American people – in particular – to rethink what influence it would accept from these space visitors."
"And all this was caused by the explosion of the first Sphere?"
"All that and more," Mentnor explained. "Frank, what you did ... well, what our Frank Parker did ... he opened a portal that didn't close for several months."
Confused, Parker turned to the scientist. "What do you mean, Isaac?"
"That single event – the rupture of a craft designed for temporal operations – did cause a rip in the fabric of time," he went on. "You have to understand that time is a very, very delicate weave, and what we know now ... well, we were only making the best educated guesses. Now, we have facts upon which to base whether or not a BackStep would only serve the domino effect for far more devastating events. Somehow, what our Frank Parker did caught the attention of chrononauts from other realities – it seems that many, many timelines share some form of recovered technology from the Roswell crash, and it seems that many, many societies put the surviving technology to similar use."
"What Isaac is putting politely, Frank," Talmadge took over, "is that, suddenly, our world was flooded by visits from chrononauts from other timelines." He sighed heavily. "By crashing the Sphere into the airliner, Frank Parker saved the world months of unimaginable pain ... but he accidentally weakened the barriers that separated our reality from others ... and he accidentally caused events we could never have anticipated."
"What?" Parker asked. "What did he do?"
"It brings us to the reason of your containment, Frank," Mentnor assured the man. "You see, time travel within your own continuum is, on the cellular level, limited in terms of the dangers. Of course, I would imagine that you've experienced some physical trauma as a result of BackStepping. Pain. Minor impairment of motor skills for a short period of time immediately following your trip back in time. Bleeding from the eyes ... sometimes, the ears ... or other orifices of your body." The older man glanced away for several seconds before continuing. "As it would turn out, these time travelers from other realities ... when they made contact with people of our reality, the results have almost always been fatal."
Parker shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Isaac, are you saying ... are you saying that I'm some sort of walking lethal infection?"
"That's a polite way of putting it, Frank," Talmadge answered. "You've given us the courtesy of listening while we filled you in on the differences between your world and ours, so I'm going to repay that courtesy by being perfectly blunt." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he faced the man – separately only by the dense pane of protective glass. "Think of yourself as an Angel of Death. Anyone you come into to contact with suffers accelerated physiological trauma. The effects are often immediate: high fever, nausea, an inability to focus. Over the next several hours to the next few days depending upon the person's metabolism, the cells of their tissue begin to break down in ways we've not been able to effectively treat." The man grimly shook his head. "In all of our recorded encounters with chrononauts – Frank Parker or otherwise – the longest victim has lasted was three days ... and, let me assure you, those were three very painful days before the woman's inevitable death."
"As a consequence," Mentnor added, "we established these containment procedures. Everything you've experienced since you arrived in our reality – the isolation – is completely necessary to ensure the survival of every living person on this planet."
Parker placed a hand on his chest. "You mean ... I infect them with death?"
"Only those you make contact with," Talmadge assured him. "It isn't anything contagious other between you and those you come into close proximity with. We've taken precautions, regardless, in our efforts to further understand the effects of such an encounter – that's why you might recall several of the field operatives wearing CDC-issued protective gear before you were placed in the isolation chamber."
"But ... Bradley, I have met people," Parker suddenly recalled aloud. "There was this old man who ran a restaurant after I arrived." He struggled with the memories of the last several hours. "Ebdon! Ebdon Finkle! And those NSA field agents who picked me up! I've exposed them, Bradley! They were there not long after I arrived!"
The director held up his hands. "And all of them are currently under observation."
"Under observation where?"
"Here," Talmadge assured him. "They've been brought to Never Never Land. Olga and her team are attending to them as we speak."
"Olga?"
Parker couldn't remember whether or not he had heard her name before, but, in an instant, his heart pounded. She was here. In this other timeline – in this other reality – Olga Vukavitch was real. She was out there – somewhere – doing her job, like she always did, trying to save lives.
"She's here, Frank," Talmadge said. "Those people couldn't be in better hands."
Deliberately, the chrononaut nodded.
"That's why we've contained you, Frank," the man continued, "and why we've stopped you from completing your mission." He pulled out his hands and held them out in a gesture of surrender. "If we were to let you out – if we were to cooperate with you and send you out into the field to accomplish whatever it is you were sent here to do – every single person you can into contact with ... they'd quite possibly be dead within a matter of hours. As I've no doubt you understand, that's a risk the NSA cannot and will not allow."
The three of them stood silent for several long moments.
"Except," Parker finally said.
"Except?"
"Except this time," he explained, "you may not have that choice, Bradley."
The director cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"The parallelogram," Parker reminded him.
"What about it?"
"The parallelogram!" he practically shouted. "A parallelogram. It was four points, two at each end. Now, in Isaac's terms, those ends represent events that tie the timelines together."
"Yes, that's right."
"Think about it, Bradley," the young man challenged. "Isaac said that your world and my world run parallel. That much we know. We dress alike. We share the same doctors, dentists, tailors. Hell, we probably all wear boxers instead of briefs. That sort of little stuff." He held up his hands into a shape similar to the one Mentnor had made not long ago. He showed the rectangle to the two men on the other side of the glass. "But, in the bigger sense, we're linked by events of ... what did you say ... events of temporal significance?"
The older man sat silently, studying Parker's face.
"If that's true," the chrononaut pressed, "then isn't it possible that the reason I've been sent back in time is directly linked to preserving not only one but also the existence, the distinctiveness, the solidarity of both timelines?" Quickly, Parker nodded at the scientist. "Now, like I said when all of us started talking, I'm no Brainiac, but this parallel convergence thing? That doesn't sound like a whole lotta fun, if you catch my meaning. I don't know about you, but I, for one, wouldn't be looking forward to having my world collide chronologically with another one and face extinction, if that's what time has in store for me." He took a moment to compose his thoughts before explaining, "This event that would cause not only my world but yours to converge, wipe the slate clean, and leave one left standing in the center ring ... isn't it possible that the event I'm here to stop is the other end of the parallelogram? Isn't it possible that it's the only thing keeping our timelines separate?"
"I'm not following you, Talmadge replied.
Mentnor sat upright in his chair.
"I think I understand," he interrupted. "Bradley, listen to what Frank's saying." Again, he held up his hands, forming a rectangle with his fingers. "It's quite possible that this Frank Parker is here to accomplish a mission that our Frank Parker, may he rest in peace, will no longer have the chance to complete. So, it stands to reason that if Frank isn't allowed to complete his task – if we contain him here, if we keep him from averting whatever disaster he's been sent to correct – then the result could be the convergence of our two timelines ... into one."
Suddenly, the scientist glanced up at his former boss.
"Bradley, if we allowed that to happen, then we would be responsible for the end of life as we know it."
End of Chapter 29