chapter 6
August 20, 2097
The following morning, Mitch made his rounds, touring preparations for the op. Seeing things come together buoyed his spirit. His meeting with Jake the previous evening had given him renewed hope that this mismatched group of people just might be able to pull off these seemingly impossible tasks. However, not an hour later, the positive vibe had all but evaporated when he arrived home to find that his wife had made good on her promise to leave and take the kids. The house stood quiet as a tomb and without his family there, it might as well have been one.
Mitch’s attention was coaxed back to the present by a buzz he could feel in the air as he followed up on the teams and their prep staff. The whole NRD base seemed to hum with excitement and activity. This phenomenon was common during the preparatory phase of any operation. Planning for ops typically had a motivational effect on staff, even if the people preparing were largely in the dark in regard to details. The particulars of this op were limited to only a few key people with top-level security clearance: Mitch, several NRD top executives and the team members themselves. The international community was leaning heavily on the NRD to get the mess cleaned up before it became a global problem. That being said, Mitch doubted anyone would feel assured if he announced to the entire world that twelve brave men and women were going back in time for advice from a man who died nearly ninety years ago. Then, based on that advice, they would change the course of history, possibly de-create hundreds of thousands of people and alter the lives of billions. After the operation succeeded, time would be re-written, and no one would ever know the problem had ever existed, except for himself and the twelve people on the operation. It was a desperate solution for an extreme problem that grew worse each day with each new report of further takeovers and brazen invasions. The robots were multiplying, and if they continued to collect Elevanium at their current rate, it would spell disaster for the whole planet in a very short period of time. Mitch shuddered to think about what could happen if the robots got their hands on the entire reserve of the super element. Every person in the world was now a stakeholder in this project. Failure was not an option.
It seemed to Mitch that the week leading up to the operation was the fastest, yet longest of his life. Days flew by in a blur of activity. The members of the three teams spent their time cramming in as much knowledge and skills as possible. They refined their strategies, recalculated their risks and developed contingency plans for their contingency plans. While the teams prepared themselves mentally, Mitch fortified the base for an attack by the robots. Thanks to the insight gained from the captured robot’s hard drive, he knew of their intent to invade. But at the time of the robot’s capture, no date had been set. Had they decided since? Mitch had no way of knowing, so he prepared as if the attack was coming tomorrow. He had ordered more troops and heavy artillery from other bases around the country and added a second and third redundant power source for the security system that protected the Elevanium vault. Twenty-four hours a day, troops patrolled the grounds. Still, he questioned whether it would be enough.
With little more than eight hours until the launch of the operation, Mitch found a moment’s peace to attempt sleep on the couch in his office. Mitch set the alarm on his watch for 3:00 A.M. but he tossed and turned for several hours and shut the alarm off before it chimed. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes, grateful that from his perspective, the entire ordeal would all be over in a little less than thirty hours.
Mitch grabbed a metal lockbox from his desk and walked up the fire exit stairs to the second floor. Judging from the darkness he saw through the glass office walls surrounding him, he was alone on the floor. Halfway down the hallway, he approached the time travel control centre. The room’s double glass doors slid open automatically at Mitch’s authorized presence and he entered. The room’s low ceiling and the absence of windows to the outdoors gave the space an enclosed feel despite being quite spacious. Large monitors were projected at the back, illuminating the darkened room enough for Mitch to see without the overhead lights.
The time travel control centre contained monitoring stations and tracking equipment that managed the time travelling system. Each monitor displayed different maps, clocks, countdowns, count ups and status reports that monitored the status of time travellers. Dominating the centre of the room was a thick, round metal base with a large glass capsule fixed above it. Suspended in the heart of the glass enclosure was a large, polished cube of Elevanium, the size of a soccer ball. Rotating slowly, the cube floated in the centre of the glass tube, glowing unnaturally white despite its partial transparency.
This particular piece of Elevanium now held more importance than the rest of the country’s Elevanium supply combined. This glowing, gleaming stone played an instrumental role in the success of Operation TimeShift. The energy harnessed from this stone powered the time travel system, and by extension, the bonded time generator. If the robots stole this piece of Elevanium before the moment of the timeshift, the system would shut down and the open window of bonded time would collapse. The effects would be catastrophic. With no bonded time, the changes each team had been sent back in time to make would not be connected and the resulting effects could damage their present situation in ways Mitch could not begin to imagine.
Mitch walked over to a wall where a bank of black nylon backpacks hung on individual hooks. Fourteen of the packs were missing: one for each member of the op, plus one for the astrogeologist in 2016 so they could take him to meet up with Team One and one for a spare. Mitch smiled at Riley’s penchant for preparedness.
Mitch set the metal box down on the nearest desk, removed one of the backpacks from its hook and unzipped the main pouch. He reached inside, felt around and found an oversized watch. He removed the watch he was wearing, slid it into his pants pocket and strapped the cumbersome watch in its place. Mitch brought the backpack over to the bank of projected screens at the back of the room and tapped the holographic menus several times. He entered the number forty-seven—the number embroidered on the front of the backpack—and a loading bar appeared with a message that flashed, “Activating time travel device.” The message blinked several times and then Mitch heard both the pack and the watch beep simultaneously. Pack number forty-seven appeared on the screen at the bottom of a list showing the fourteen other activated packs.
Mitch turned his attention away from the screen and unzipped the front panel of the pack. The fabric panel folded forward to reveal an elaborate control panel. Mitch changed several of the values on the touch screen interface and set the destination time to the current time, minus two seconds. He zipped up the pack, slid his arms through the straps and picked up his metal lockbox. Mitch stepped into the middle of the room. With the box lodged under one arm, he awkwardly held up the arm wearing the bulky watch. As he readied his index finger over the white button on the watch’s face, he inhaled deeply. He had never travelled through time before and, although he planned to go just two seconds back in time, he still felt his heart race.
He knew the importance of this precautionary step. When the timeshift occurred and time rewrote itself, the entire mission—the problems with the robots, his life as he knew it—would be re-written. Just as it would be for everyone else on the planet. He knew that by sending himself back in time, even just two seconds, it would be enough to remove him from his natural time sequence. When the timeshift occurred and time rewrote itself along with everybody else’s memories, he would still retain all of the knowledge and memories he possessed at this moment. There was a good chance that his new, post-timeshift reality would no longer match these memories.
Was it dangerous? Absolutely. Did he like the idea? Absolutely not. He was putting himself and his family at extreme risk. After the timeshift, he would need to investigate his life to see how time had rewritten it. Would he be married to his wife? Would he have kids? Would he have the same friends? Will he have even been born? Mitch pushed the thoughts from his mind. How his
life was going to change as a result of the timeshift was beyond his control. He knew if he dwelled on it too much, the endless speculation could drive him mad. Instead, he chose to hope for the best. He was doing what needed to be done for the sake of the men and women of Operation TimeShift, whose efforts would ensure he and the rest of the world had a future.
Mitch inhaled one last time and unconsciously held it. As he prepared to press the button, a version of himself appeared in front of him, holding the same box. The future version of himself smiled. Mitch stared incredulously, even though he had fully expected to see this. He wasted no time and pressed the white button to initiate his two-second leap back in time.
Suddenly, his perspective on the room changed. He now faced the front of the room and the past version of himself stood in front of him—white-faced with a gaping expression. That had been him, two seconds ago. He smiled at the pale version himself and blinked. The past version of himself had vanished.
August 23, 2097
Carrying three white plastic boxes tucked under his arm, Mitch joined the teams at the deployment site outside one of the aircraft bays of B Hangar. He saw two large, distinct piles of gear and supplies. Members of the three teams milled around the piles, some talking animatedly as they double and triple-checked their lists. Others looked nervous and quiet. Each member wore a black backpack and bulky watch identical to the one Mitch had worn the night before to send himself two seconds back in time.
Mitch called the three leads away from the group to offer his final words. There were no last minute plans or directions. If something had been missed, they would need to figure it out on the fly.
“I forgot about these,” said Mitch. He handed each lead one of the square boxes. Stamped into the side of each box was the word, “CUBE.”
Riley took the box with barely a glance, nodded in acknowledgement and slid it under her arm. Mitch recognized her game face; he had seen her steely gaze and firmly set jaw many times before as she mentally prepared for deployment.
Jake read the contents on the side of the box. “Jeez. Is this really necessary?” he asked.
“You never know what people are capable of until they’re pushed to their limits. Especially on long-term ops. It never hurts to be prepared,” said Riley. She thought of the number of ops she had gone on with Finn and knew she would never need to use it, but it was a matter of protocol and safety for both the team and the op.
Riley’s matter-of-fact take on the cube took Jake by surprise, and he wondered if she had ever had to use it during any of her past experiences in the field.
“Oh, and Spencer, that’s not for recreational use, no matter how tempted I know you’ll be.” Mitch laughed. He watched Spencer’s eyes widen as he read the box.
The three leads returned to their teams after quick farewells, handshakes and well wishes. Mitch addressed the group one last time.
“Alright everyone. This is it.” Mitch studied their faces as he spoke. Some of them were smiling and excited, some looked green. The concept of time travel was thrilling in movies but in real life, it unnerved many people, himself included. “I know this isn’t your standard op and some of you will be doing things you haven’t done before now. But you’re all smart and I know that you’re all going to do great. Do not get caught, I can’t guarantee that we can get you out. Finally, and most importantly, this is bonded time, ladies and gentlemen. There are no do-overs. Good luck teams.”
Mitch watched each person hit the same white button on their watch as he had the night previous. All twelve people along with the mountains of supplies disappeared. Realizing he had been holding his breath, he exhaled heavily and stared at the empty concrete where the group had stood just seconds ago. He closed his eyes and took in the magnitude of the op when he heard footsteps approaching from across the hangar.
“Sir?” called the voice. It echoed through the cavernous hangar. “Sir, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. Another power centre has fallen, sir. We’ve lost power to all city infrastructure on the south-west side.”