Thank you for reading and reviewing. :) Lots going on over here, but time to write is eagerly sought.
57
West Dome-
Trapped in a loop of bent time and paradox, thirty-one people sheltered in place. They were deep underground, in a lead and concrete-walled bunker, perhaps a hundred feet wide by one-fifty long, and twelve in height. Air and water were filtered, cleaned and recirculated, and there was food for three months, if they limited themselves to one small meal a day. Other than that, and the omnipresent rattling, scratching noises, life settled into routine. They got back to "normal", because that's what you did, even in the last place, the last few moments, on Earth.
Lieutenant Commander Sheffield helped Sharl assign jobs, making sure there was always someone on vent detail, and that no one refused their fair share of food. There were a few pets present: two local hamsters, with bright golden eyes and long, fluffy tails, a bluish winged lizard, and one last Mini-Max. Maybe that was a problem, Sheff fretted, because they consumed food and power that ought to have gone to people, but the morale-boost mattered. Just like the two kids, Caleb and Kaise, those "pets" gave everyone hope, and something to fuss over. That's why Sheff let them stay.
Professor Moffat set up a sheet-walled clinic, meaning to keep track of the natives' recovery. There was much to jot down because… well done, Hiram… thank you, John… they were getting better. Little things, at first, like cuts that stopped bleeding and bruises that faded away; Moffy recorded it all. Hiram would return soon, she was sure, and he'd want to know that his cure had proven effective.
Meanwhile, Caleb installed himself as sort of a one-guy entertainment committee (with Kaise's help, for special effects). He could hold the natives enthralled just by describing the water slides at Wavey World, or by talking about bike rides, kayaking and flight. Best of all were his tales of International Rescue (some of which, yeah… he embroidered). They wanted to hear those, again and again.
Once, as part of a story, he kissed Kaise. Hadn't meant to. Just… fit the moment, but she got really wide-eyed and quiet, afterward. Dumb, huh? Not like there was any real privacy, and maybe not any future, either. Plus, she was a whole foot and some taller than him… but, he liked her. A lot. Even scratched up, like that. Even with hair just now growing back on her head. He liked her, and wanted to show it.
There was a food replicator on the shelter's north wall. Broken, naturally, but Major Pope had sworn that he'd fix it, using the opportunity to teach the natives a little basic engineering. If nothing else, they were eager to learn, and no longer so frightened of sharp metal tools.
That's how the days passed, as billions of nanites slashed at their walls, and they waited for Brains to come back with help.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tracy Island, at the ring-
Nope. He'd thought it over, but Scott couldn't recall a single, less comfortable mission briefing. He, John and Grandma sat on one side of the round, sunken couch, with Max just behind them. The Mechanic lounged at the other end, sprawling with arrogant, confident ease, as Brains paced the center and tried to explain.
"All of th- this," said the engineer, nervously, "is a… a t- time bubble, for lack of, ah… of b- better words. It is only one p- possible timeline."
"Looks pretty solid to me," Scott objected, pounding the back of the couch with his hand. Beside him, his brother had that unfocused, faraway look in his eyes that usually meant he was talking to Eos. Not seeming to notice, Brains shook his head.
"It would, ah… would s- seem so to us, as we are a p- part of it, Scott, but trust me that, ah… that n- none of this is fact, y- yet."
Grandma Tracy's blue eyes narrowed. At her directive, Max had gone to the kitchen for coffee and doughnuts, but nobody felt like indulging (although the Mechanic did jack into an outlet, for charge).
"Y'r gonna have ta put it plainer n' that, Doctor Hackenbacker. What d'you mean, we ain't fact?"
"I m- mean that a version of me c- came back in time, to, ah… to ch- change an awful future, Mrs. T- Tracy, and that h- has been, ah… been p- partly successful."
"What awful future?" probed Scott, half-noticing John's sudden stillness.
"One in w- which a terrible, ah… terrible d- disease has killed John and n- nearly yourself, V- Virgil and Alan, then gone on to, ah… to m- mutate, infect, and destroy the human race. One in w- which an ancient spacecraft has b- brought savage nanites to rid Earth of organic l- lifeforms."
Scott blinked, then looked over at John, who was pale, but composed. His brother nodded slightly, having apparently heard something similar from Eos. Turning back to the engineer, Scott said,
"All right… even supposing we accept what you're saying is true, Brains," (which, frankly, he doubted) "…what's the Mechanic got to do with it?"
Hackenbacker inhaled deeply and squared his thin shoulders. Convincing Kane to cooperate had been only half of the battle. Scott was stubborn, John bleak, Mrs. Tracy openly skeptical… but he refused to back down, because seven hundred years from now, they very badly needed him to win this fight.
"I h- have cured the illness, I, ah… I th- think, Scott. But, in so d- doing, I have left people t- trapped in the, ah… the f- future. They must be r- rescued, and the alien n- nanobots prevented from ever, ah… ever r- reaching Earth. The M- Mechanic is a cyborg. His p- power to animate and c- control mechanical objects will, ah… will g- give us the edge we need to, ah… to f- forestall humanity's end."
"Bullsh*t," snapped Scott.
"That's what I said," muttered Kane.
"You stay outta this!" Grandma exploded. "F'r all we know, them nanites is somethin' you cooked up an' stuck on a fake alien spaceship, so's you could swoop in an' make y'rself look good!"
Kane barked a short, mocking laugh.
"Believe me, "Grandma", nothing matters less than the world's opinion of my actions. Vermin are useful, or they're dead. You lot…" he shrugged broad, muscular shoulders, making his orange-brown armour rattle and creak. "…waste time saving the pests from their own stupidity. Let 'em die. Who gives a sh*t? Less to eliminate, later on."
Stirring a bit on the couch, John asked,
"So, why are you here, then? If the Earth's population means nothing, why are you helping Brains save it?"
Kane stared at the astronaut with those cold, amber eyes of his. John did not look away.
"Honestly?" mused the cyborg, "Because Horatio bribed me, and because... if I'm the one who screwed things up so no one's going to get sh*t… then maybe I'd better get off my ass and help fix it. Doesn't change anything between us, though. Don't get comfortable, Star-boy."
As if anyone would be comfortable around the Mechanic, unless he was dead, or in lockdown. Said Brains, sensing another flare-up,
"If y- you will all, ah… all f- follow me, I will provide you w- with evidence, down in my, ah… my l- laboratory."
Scott glowered. He did not like any plan that brought the Mechanic on a stroll through their best technologies. Still, if Brains had proof, then maybe they ought to listen, he reasoned. On the other hand, Scott wondered: What bribe? What had Hackenbacker offered, that the Mechanic would work with the Tracys to score? Not one of the Birds... right?
Together, they followed Dr. Hackenbacker onto the lift, which was, yeah… quite an interesting ride. Like being stuck in a closet with a grizzly bear. Not that Kane stank, exactly. He smelt of machine parts, lubricant oil and seared interface flesh. Something else, too. Something not unlike themselves; as if they had a few genes in common, somewhere. Didn't mean that they had to like it, though. Grandma hissed something to Max, who sprayed a quick blast of lemon air-freshener. Didn't help.
The ride down couldn't end soon enough to suit Scott. Much longer, and he would have made his own door. Anyhow, Brains took them all into his time lab, where everything seemed to be almost doubled, and stretched like rubber around some kind of invisible corner. Didn't know how else to describe it, except that it made them all slightly nauseous to look at and pass through.
John put a long, muscular arm across the door to block Grandma from entering, as Scott turned to face Hackenbacker.
"Safe to go in?" he demanded.
Hands in his jacket pockets, Brains said,
"I h- have been here, myself, and suffered, ah… suffered n- no adverse effects. B- But perhaps Mrs. Tracy sh- should, ah…"
"My wrinkled ol' butt I'm stayin' outside!" raged Sally. "John Matthew, you move that arm, or I'll tan y'r hide!"
The arm moved, although John stayed plenty close enough to grab the old lady, should anything happen. A Mini-max swarm was darting around inside the lab like the wild, melding beads in a kid's kaleidoscope. Pretty, but weird.
Scott stalked over to the doubled time crystal, feeling himself sifting through more than one dimension; like he was being poured across the bends on a sheet of folded paper. Again, weird.
"What's causing all this?" he asked, learning the hard way that turning too fast stretched his vision across a wider, smeared distance, and made people's organs pop into view.
"Th- The time crystal," Brains told him, pointing. "As it already existed h- here, at this point in my, ah… my p- past, it could only m- materialise by shifting sideways, half a d- dimension. That is m- my evidence that neither the c-crystal, nor part of me truly belong here."
The Mechanic's armour had generated a brief, buzzing alarm when he entered the metal-walled lab, but he'd soon cut it off. Now, the cyborg strode right up to that pulsing blue shard.
"Where'd this thing come from?" he asked, rubbing at the interface between his jaw and the breath mask.
"F- From the, ah… the B- Big Bang," the engineer told him. "I suspect that there are others, and that th- they travel randomly throughout the c- cosmos. We encountered th- this one, in China."
"So, it travels time, and takes people with it," Scott mused, actually moving closer to Kane, in order to see better. There was something achingly lovely about that pulsing blue glow.
"Indeed, Scott. P- People and, ah… and th- things. Now, I propose that w- we suit up, prepare, and then ride along with the, ah… the c- crystal, as it jumps back to th- the future. Because of my tampering, we, ah… we sh- shall arrive more than w- week after I left the others."
Spreading his arms and looking from face to still-wary face, Brains added,
"I c- can only ask… will you h- help me to reach them, please? I p- promised."
It was John who spoke first, musing,
"I think I can almost remember what you're talking about Brains. Strange people. Very tall, and… sick. They were sick."
Hackenbacker let out a tightly pent breath.
"Yes, indeed, my friend, and you helped to save them, I am sure. Will, ah… will y- you do so, again?"
The astronaut nodded, sending unruly red hair sliding into his eyes.
"What the h*ll (Sorry, Grandma). Why not?"
Scott turned away from regarding the crystal, saying,
"We both will, Brains. Even in time-travel, a rescue's a rescue."
Nobody quite looked at him (except for Sally Tracy, who'd not left off glaring) but the Mechanic's vote was next. Instead of a direct answer, though, Kane asked,
"If we open your time loop and get the d*mn "victims" out, what happens then? Will this become the new "now"? Or are we in for more changes?"
Brains took off his glasses and began polishing the lenses on his jacket sleeve; a thing he always did, when needing to think.
"I d- do not know how to answer th- that question, Kane. I b- believe that it will… but t-time travel is quite complex, and there m- may be other versions of ourselves, trying d- different solutions."
"If we do nothing…?" the Mechanic probed.
"Th- Then this temporal locus w- will cease to exist, and all shall, ah… shall b- be lost."
The cyborg rubbed at his bristling mohawk and tattooed scalp. Staring hard at Brains, he growled,
"Everything you offered before, plus IR stays out of my way forever, in family politics. I'll leave the vermin… and the Kyranos… the h*ll alone. Best you're going to get. No negotiation."
Brains acquiesced with a dip of his head.
"I h- have no choice but to accept your, ah… your t- terms," he said, adding, "S- Scott, John, you w- will need to suit up, with full helmets and, ah… and p- protective gear. I, as well. M- Mechanic…"
"I can take care of myself," he rumbled. "Recommend a forcefield for your candy-ass Tracys, over there. And I'll need some time to interface with the nanites, once we arrive. That sh*t doesn't happen instantly."
Another deep voice cut in, then; one that shouldn't have been there.
"I'm coming, too," announced Virgil Tracy, stepping into the lab. "I'll bring my exo-suit, and keep a close eye on him."
"You'll get your chance, Crash-Jockey," the Mechanic promised. "Once this is over. For now… H*ll, come join the party. More, the merrier, and accidents happen."
"Not if you want to live, they don't," said John, moving just enough to block Virgil, this time. "If we're fighting each other, we can't work the problem. It's a truce, or it isn't. If you can't handle that, Virgil, stay home."
John was his older brother, and therefore outranked him. Looking to move up the chain of command, Virgil turned to face Scott, who said,
"He's right, Virge. Last thing we need on this mission is for you two to start tearing into each other. If you can keep yourself in check, you're welcome to join us. Otherwise, stay here and keep the kids out of trouble. That's final. Now... you in?"
"Yeah," grunted the big, dark-haired pilot. "Let's do this."
…but he would not be taking his eyes off of Kane, no matter what. Thirty minutes later, in a flare of blue light, the rescue party set off.