Fractured Images
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Thursday, June 3, 3109, 12:33 PM
“Young-Rebecca has the gate set to 3089,” Siri announced.
Preparing herself with a sharp intake of breath, Rebecca flexed her shoulders, opened the door and exited into the passageway, turning left toward The Hall of The Gate. She’d remained concealed in the same room that Young-Rebecca had awoken in this morning, awaiting the moment when her younger self set the gate to 2:29 pm, Monday, June 3, 3089. She wore the gray tunic and slacks, but had substituted leather-soled flats for slippers to make her presence in the passageway known. Young-Rebecca should be gone when she arrived in the hall 30 seconds hence. She was.
With one notable exception, the morning had transpired exactly as she recalled. A misaligned ion-manipulator had allowed a 120’ tall transmission tower to be seen above the tree line in the distance. A crew dispatched by Holger had partially remedied the problem, but when looked at directly, a section of scaffolding and two transmission lines could be seen. Stepping onto the balcony, Young-Rebecca had noted the anomaly right away, drawing it to Rebecca’s attention. An instant later, however, she spotted Frieda and Arma, and all questions ceased. Rebecca hoped the incident would not prove a deal-breaker, somehow.
“Siri, dead-center the gate, all coordinates, please.” Siri confirmed her command, though Rebecca observed no difference in the hovering oval. “Lock all functions pending my verbal release.”
“All functions locked, Rebecca.”
Rebecca sighed. No more pretend now; her younger self had fled 20 years into the past, and Rebecca had just stranded her there. What a goddamned nightmare. It wasn’t nearly over yet, either.
“Revert my suite to normal, please.” The house she’d slept in nearly every night of her long stay in Arcadia lay safely concealed behind a manipulation field. Ever the sensible mother-figure in her life, Gudrun had insisted on Procurement dismantling the structure during Rebecca/Iris’s stay in the palace, but Rebecca had uncharacteristically refused. She couldn’t suffer the loss of her home for even a night; it had preserved her sanity, possibly even her life in the beginning. It now belonged to Arma.
“Do not allow Arma, or anyone else to access the gate while I’m gone, Siri.”
“Affirmed.”
Anxious, she disrobed and donned the black cords and warm flannel shirt that Procurement had provided for her return to 2014. It felt unbelievably good to wear the familiar outfit of her youth. Though 36 now, she fit the size 6 cords as though she had worn them yesterday. Her weight had shifted somewhat over the years, but she still tipped the scales at 115 pounds. Not many 36-year-old’s could say that, she thought. Dropping onto the edge of the dais, she slipped on her boots and laced them tight.
“Siri, please confirm my iPhone carries enough charge to complete this mission.”
“The phone is unnecessary for communication with Procurement after initial sync, but confirmed. The implanted chip in your shoulder will sync with Procurement once you arrive. You should be perfectly safe in 2912, Rebecca.”
“Right,” she said gruffly. “Safe as can be.” She took her feet. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing, Siri.”
Siri answered as she had every time Rebecca posed the question: “I haven’t the data to formulate a correct answer, Rebecca.”
“Fucking lie then!” she cried, wiping her eyes. She might never see Arma again, Holger, Gudrun, or Frieda. 3109. 2014, for that matter, failing a means to avert the pending disaster.
Frightened and shaking, she commanded: “Temporal coordinates to December 18, 2014, 9:24 pm. Spatial coordinates my sister’s bedroom, Siri.”
“Confirmed, Rebecca.”
She approached the gate, fear hunching her shoulders and balling her fists. “I can’t promise you a great future, Arma,” she whispered. “I can only try. I love you. I’ll always love you, baby.”
Rebecca stepped through, again leaving The Hall of The Gate silent and empty.
(Rebecca’s adventures are continued in A GREATER DYNAMIC. It should be posted sometime in mid-2020.)
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Thursday, December 18, 2014, 9:55 pm Standing before the mirror in the bathroom across the hall from her bedroom, Rebecca stripped off her shirt and tossed it on the floor. She’d worn these clothes for two days now; she hadn’t bathed in that time and she could smell herself. Her hair hung limp; worse, she had slept on it and not had a brush to get out the tangles. She grabbed up her brush now, and went to work. In the shower, she shampooed and shaved her underarms and legs, then rinsed her...
Thursday, June 3, 3109, 11:03 AM The Hall of the Gate stood empty. Nauseated and clutching her stomach, Rebecca hurried around the dais to the passageway beyond, half-expecting to hear Leda chastising Iris in the distance. She neither saw, nor heard, anyone. Stepping onto the dais, she approached the control panel and extended her right hand toward the central globe. She still had the list in her hand, she discovered. Curious despite her sense of urgency, she unfolded the paper and glanced at...
Thursday, December 18, 2014, 9:27 am. Stumbling away from the gate, she freed the Diet Coke from her pocket and twisted off the lid. The hiss/fizz of escaping carbon dioxide was Iggy Azalea to her ears. Lifting the rim to her lips, she couldn’t drink the soda; her nausea was too great. Cold and disgusted, she capped the bottle and staggered to the nearby patio table, yanked out the closest chair and collapsed onto the seat. Her nausea grew worse every time she jumped back to 2014, and lasted...
Thursday, December 18, 2014, 12:41 pm. Leda had taken the gate. Cursing, Rebecca kicked the wall directly above the dropped penny and staggered back, hopping one-footed as her left ankle screamed in pain. You stupid bimbo, she thought angrily, trying to walk it off. What are you so angry about, anyway? “Because!” she hissed angrily. “I’m stranded with my other, unsuspecting self, due home from school at 3 o’clock. How am I going to explain this to her?” Hobbling from the shed to the far...
Thursday, June 3, 3109, 11:55 AM The Hall of the Gate remained empty. Stressed to the point of nearly peeing herself, Rebecca dropped the bags and staggered rubber-kneed to the dais and dropped to her butt. She had nothing to calm her stomach this time; she’d left her Diet Coke in Gunther’s car, and not thought to grab a bottle from the fridge. Distractedly, she wondered if she had drunk any of the sodas in the refrigerator twice. Requiring more logic skills and concentration than she...
Monday, June 3, 3089, 2:29 pm She experienced no nausea at all. Looking about, Rebecca considered her decision to step through, wondered if having it out with Leda wasn’t a better plan of action. Stepping away from the portal, she lowered the bags and automatically glanced back. What if Leda followed her through? Certainly the woman had seen her, disappearing through the gate. Her glimpse of the person turning the corner was so fleeting that she hadn’t actually identified the figure as Leda,...
Monday, June 3, 3089, 3:06 pm Rebecca arose from the dais, pushing erect with both hands on her right knee. She swayed, the toe of her left boot just making contact with the floor. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she repeated slowly. She’d yelled herself hoarse, screaming Leda’s name. Hobbling to the record-shop bag, she snatched it up and searched out the Baby Ruth bars at the bottom. She’d bought one and gotten one free from Mr. Klause, when he’d rung up her sale and bagged her items. The bars were...
Tuesday, June 4, 3089, 9:07 am She had to do something fast. Her only food was the remaining candy bar in her coat pocket, and she’d gone without water--or any other liquid--since her Diet Coke some 20 hours ago. Not a tremendously long time under normal circumstances, but she had awoken with a burning bladder, a bad sign. A more indicative sign of her jump-induced dehydration lay in the color of her urine—a disturbingly dark yellow—and the scant amount she had deposited on the floor 5...
Tuesday, June 4, 3089, 11:55 am Leaving her parka to block the balcony gate—and theoretically, any railing closure—Rebecca boarded the escalator and stood calmly with the bags at her feet. The small girl, whom Rebecca guessed to be 5 or 6 years old, shifted anxiously at the bottom, rocking side to side, fitfully moving her lips. She seemed consumed equally by curiously and fear. As she slowly withdrew from the ramp, Rebecca cursed the gods for not revealing the girl sooner. Her antics on the...
Tuesday, June 4, 3089, 3:06 pm At 3:06 pm, Rebecca glanced up from the journal and discovered a procession wending its way along the path. Perhaps 50 natives in all; at the head of the line was a wizened old man, long white hair braided Native American style. The leader appeared legless, borne aloft in a canopied transport by four young, heavily-muscled male bearers, also with long braided hair. Each wore the same, hand-stitched tanned skins as Gudrun and Frieda. The elder’s chest was...
Tuesday, June 4, 3089, 9:10 pm Entering Leda’s suite, Rebecca dropped the bags and tiredly stretched, hands planted at the base of her spine. Her left ankle hurt like a bitch. She had a throbbing headache, and her mouth tasted foul. Delicious though the villager’s food may be, the seasoning tasted strongly of garlic. She’d also eaten cooked garlic cloves with the meal, and powerfully strong onions. Mutton always left a nasty aftertaste in her mouth. Regardless, like everyone else at the...
Wednesday, June 5, 3089, 8:38 am Rebecca awakened at 8:38 am. Stretching mightily, until it felt like every joint in her body would pop, she grabbed a pillow, jammed it down over her eyes, and sighed. It was Sunday and she never got up before 10 am. Never. She sat bolt upright 2 seconds later and stared around open-mouthed. It was her bedroom at home. “Mom?” she shrieked. She forgot her sore ankle and stumbled in agony jumping out of bed. Grabbing the edge of her desk for support, she looked...
Wednesday, June 5, 3089, 10:40 am Pacing away from the platform, Gudrun missed the gate’s arrival--also, Rebecca carefully stepping through on her crutches. Reaching the far end of her course, she turned back, cried out and tripped over her feet. She stared at Rebecca wide-eyed, angry and flustered. Rebecca laughed softly. “I brought you a gift.” In her left hand, the brooch translated her words into Birdsong. To Rebecca’s surprise, Gudrun made a quick sign of the cross and backed away two...
Wednesday, June 26, 3089, 7:21 am Three weeks later, dragging out of bed and checking through her bedroom window—Siri had warned her to expect rain today—she muttered irritably about the weather and headed for the bathroom. She walked with a limp, but the crutches and brace were gone, residing in the back of her walk-in closet. Crossing the hallway, she paused, hand on her stomach. “Oh, crap,” she moaned. “No! No, no, no!” She made it to the toilet and flipped up the lid, just barely in...
Monday, September 9, 3089, 2:25 pm She had begun to show. Not much at only 14 weeks, but enough that she felt the constriction in her cords in the morning. Fortune had blessed Rebecca with the discovery of an experienced midwife in the personage of Gudrun, cementing their developing foster-mother-daughter relationship. Rebecca considered Frieda her adopted little sister, and had already converted the 5-year-old to 21st Century thinking. Perverted her, Gudrun might disagree. As a mother, she...
3091, 3092, 3093, 3094, 3095... 3109.
Wednesday, May 19, 3109, 11:06 am Preoccupied with thoughts of Arma’s wedding 2 weeks hence, Rebecca entered The Hall of The Gate, intent upon searching out a deserted beach on the California coast, where the honeymooner’s could spend a stress-free two weeks away from mom and Arma’s future in-laws. Max was a wonderful young man—she couldn’t pick a better husband-to-be for her daughter, Gudrun claimed—and while Rebecca was inclined to agree with this affirmation, she suffered the anxiety of...
Wednesday, June 2, 3109, 9:00 PM Rebecca paced restlessly before the gate. Gudrun had used a rinse on her hair last night, adding the remembered touch of gray, and then expertly applied makeup that made her appear 10 years older than her actual age. In a few minutes time, once Siri sent the gate to December 18, 2014, at 9:24 pm, Young-Rebecca would tumble through backwards and whack her head on the floor. She would discover Rebecca in the detested purple lounge wear that was as close as she...
Wednesday, June 2, 3109, 9:15 PM Her Bizzy K ball cap. “Son of a bee,” she muttered, stooping to snatch it up. She’d last seen this beautiful cap the afternoon of December 18, 2014. Gunther had promised to return it. Like that ever happened, she thought. Carrying the cap to the control console, she placed it carefully atop Leda’s hand-written lexicon on the shelf below. Young-Rebecca might, or might not need it in 3089, Causal Expression, et. al. She glanced at the clock floating above the...
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