Earth Prime
February 2, 1998
The diner was packed with kids. Or, at least, John viewed them as such. Being just a block from campus, it was generally one of the go-to establishments for students to dine, which usually was a reason for John to avoid going there. He wasn’t sure why Sherri had directed the two of them here, but he felt like they stuck out among the late teens and twenty-somethings around them.
And since he’d taken permanent hiatus from his teaching to focus on his work at Project Long Jump, he hadn’t so much as spent time around people of this undercooked age.
The two of them sat in a small booth towards the back. Sherri’s eyes were on the door to the kitchen, just behind the counter, and they had barely looked away since they’d arrived.
“Okay,” said John, lacing his fingers together, and leaning forward. “What’s goin’ on, Sherri?”
Her eyes moved to him for a moment, before turning back, and she gave him an enigmatic smile.
“It’s probably time, I think,” she said.
“Time for what?” He narrowed his eyes.
She nodded towards her eyeline, and he followed it. The door to the kitchen had opened, and Colin Mallory came out, wearing an apron and hairnet. John felt his jaw slacken at the sight of his old student.
“Colin’s original history has been altered. A lot,” said Sherri. “He needs a hand getting to the right place, at the right time.”
“There wasn’t anything in the notes about that,” John said, scratching the side of his neck. He watched Colin standing at a table, writing down an order on his notepad.
Sherri nodded. “I know. But do you remember I told you about that… experience… I had, when my brain was still entangled with the other Maggie?”
John gave her a look, amused that she would even have to ask. “Do I remember the whole reason you stayed here? Of course I do.”
“Of course you do,” she repeated, chuckling. “Stupid question.”
She leaned toward him, placing a hand on the table. “Anyway, it was in this diner.” She knocked on the table.
“I’d never seen this diner before, and I highly doubt the other Maggie had either. And we certainly hadn’t seen Colin looking like that.” She pointed a thumb at Colin, who was now at a milkshake mixer, holding a steel cup to it. “So when I came across this place after the vision, I knew it was significant. Lo and behold, Colin started working here back in ’93.”
John nodded slowly. “And you said you met a future version of yourself here?”
“She looked just like me, but twenty years older.” Sherri said, and passed a hand over her face. “Just like this.”
“Well, I don’t see the younger versions of you here,” John said, trying to work out where this conversation was headed.
“I don’t think I was in the literal future,” Sherri said, and gazed at the ceiling, squinting. “What were the words she used…? Something about… temporal flux points? Construct?”
John nodded slowly, his mind piecing things together. After a moment, he grabbed two napkins. He placed one on the table, and held the other up, tearing it almost in half.
“The machine pulled half of you through a wormhole while your atoms were converted temporarily into a fourth dimensional energy state, and then the separation process remained incomplete for those few hours afterwards.”
He waved a finger over the section of napkin that was still attached. “So your mind was a convergence point of two different universes, two different timelines. But because you were also displaced in time, your brain’s extra-temporal state was also trying to reconcile the changes that were happening around you in realtime, such as with Colin. Those would be the ‘temporal flux points,’ I assume.”
On the untouched napkin, he drew a line that diverged into numerous branches. “It’s possible that in that state, you were capable of seeing varied timelines branching from your current point, and your mind created a construct based on one of the possible outcomes.”
He met her eye. “Did that make sense?”
Sherri grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He crumpled up the napkins, sharing a smile with her.
“Hey there, what can I get— Doc Beckett?”
John looked up to see Colin standing at the table, notepad and pen at the ready. His eyes were wide and eyebrows high, as he looked at his old professor.
“Colin, it’s been a while, huh?” John looked up at him with a bittersweet expression.
Colin’s notepad drifted downward. “Where have you been all this time? I haven’t seen you since… well, you know.”
John scratched the back of his head. “It’s… it’s a long story. How are you doing, Colin?”
Colin’s eyes fell to his feet. “Oh, you know. One day at a time. It’s been years and I still feel like Quinn’s gonna just show up some day. It’s been especially hard on Mom.”
Poor kid.
“Yeah, I know how it is. You wanna talk about it?”
Colin glanced at the clock on the wall.
“I finish up in ten minutes,” he said.
“Well, when you do, take a seat with us, okay?”
Colin nodded. “Okay.”
Colin looked at Sherri, seemingly noticing her presence for the first time. “Oh, hi. Are you two…?”
Sherri laughed. “No, no. I’m Sam’s… cousin. Sherri.” She held out a hand, and Colin shook it. “He’s told me a lot about you and Quinn.”
She leaned in, and whispered: “You’re his favourite students.” She winked, and gave him a broad grin. Colin responded with a bashful glance at John.
John gave him a confirming nod. “Don’t let my other former students know, but… she’s not wrong.”
Colin’s cheeks were going rosy, and he composed himself, lifting the notepad. “Anyway, what can I get you?”
“Just a couple of cheeseburgers and a bowl of fries will do us,” John replied. “Hold the pickle on Sherri’s.”
He winked at her, and she nodded with approval.
Colin jotted down the order, nodded, and hurried away to fill out the remainder of his shift.
“So what do you think we need to do for him?” John asked.
Sherri rested her chin in her palms. “I’m not so sure of the exact original history, but I know that he needs to start travelling with Quinn and the others sometime after the invasion. We just need to get him in a position where that happens. He was originally on a different world until Quinn tracked him down. Maybe this time he needs to track them down.”
Track them down. John stroked his chin.
“I believe in a month or so, two of Quinn’s companions are due back on our Earth. Rembrandt and…” he chuckled. “Wade Welles.”
Sherri smirked as John brushed aside the images he now associated with that name and face.
“It’ll mark about three months until the invasion,” he continued. “In the event we – God forbid – fail, it might be a good idea to get them off-world, to Quinn, before they’re captured. And send Colin with them.”
He gave a resolute nod. “Okay, I think that’ll work. Higgins can generate a tracking algorithm for Quinn’s quantum signature, and I’ll retrofit his sliding tech to get Colin on his tail when the time comes.”
Sherri smiled. “I’m glad you stayed here with me, John.”
John placed an arm around her. “Can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be.”
* * *
San Antonio, New Mexico
December 8, 2002
Sam couldn’t imagine anywhere he would rather have been, as he tickled the ivories at a cosy tavern, surrounded by his friends. It had been an overwhelming 24 hours, filled with heartfelt greetings, medical checkups, extensive debriefings, and a psychological assessment from Verbena. But now, he was finally able to just enjoy the company of the people he loved.
As his song came to a close, he leaned back, stretching.
“I remember you playing that in 1978,” Colin said as he leaned on the piano, beer in hand. “Billy Joel, right?”
“Yeah,” confirmed Sam, and stood to meet Colin’s towering height. He looked curiously at the man. “Colin, you’re… different.”
Colin gave him an amused look. “You noticed that, huh? That’s interesting.”
He sipped his drink, thoughtful. “I altered my history kind of a lot, so the quirks I used to have in my speech were… overwritten, I guess is the word for it.”
As it occurred to Sam what Colin meant by that, his mouth broke out in a grin. “So you really did it, huh?”
Colin peeked out over the rim of the beer glass, and nodded. He pulled it away from his mouth, setting it on the top of the piano.
“I guess that bartender was right: I am the same in here,” he said, hand on heart. “At least, I think so?”
Sam gently put his own hand over Colin’s heart. “Absolutely.”
They shared a meaningful look, before a question came to Sam.
“What was that thing you were holding when I leaped in?” he mimed holding an eyeglass to his face.
Colin grinned. “Remember when Quinn was doing those tests on you, and then made the distortion detector?”
“Sure, how could I forget being poked and prodded?” Sam said wryly.
“Well, it was at that point that he got it into his head to develop a device that would let him see through the illusion… without the headache.”
He reached into his pocket, producing the telescopic gizmo. He pulled it open, and handed it to Sam.
“It’s called a Reality Lens.”
It had the hallmarks of Quinn’s ramshackle creations, made with scrap parts. It looked to have been adapted from an old monocular scope, with a small box attached full of circuitry, and the eye lens had been replaced by an advanced electronic display. Sam was impressed, once again, at the ingenuity.
“Quinn made this?” Sam asked.
“Nope! I did.” Colin was looking proudly at his creation. “Quinn had other things to do, which I’m sure he can’t wait to show you.”
“How did you configure it? I wasn’t around to test on.”
He handed the Reality Lens back to Colin, who folded it up and put it back in his pocket.
“We’ve been here three years, Doc,” he said. “We weren’t allowed into your facility for most of it, so Sammy Jo tested it out in the Waiting Room and helped me get a perfect picture.”
Sam’s breath caught. “Sa— did you say, ‘Sammy Jo?’”
“Yeah,” said Colin, “She was our main contact before we were allowed down there.”
I guess Donna wasn’t the only one I forgot.
Sam bit his lip. “I… need to see her.”
“Well I don’t know where she is now, but why don’t you swing by our little operation tomorrow? It’s just the nondescript warehouse-looking building about a mile south of here. Sign out the front says ‘Holbrook Systems;’ meaningless cover name. Sammy’s due there in the morning.”
Colin crossed his arms. “And… we can tell you all about why we ended up here. It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ll bet it is,” mused Sam, as he made eye contact with Al across the room. Al beckoned him over, and Sam held up a finger in response.
He leaned towards Colin. “You see him there, right?”
“Who, Al?”
Sam gave him a sheepish look. “I have to get used to talking to him more openly, y’know? Now that he’s… really there.”
He almost felt sad that he’d only have to go to the bathroom to answer nature’s call.