Jago 9

slippery through time

The door opened silently and they stepped from the tiny room back into the large open area. But the open space was different from when they had entered the little room, it was filled with light now, light which hurt her eyes, but it was empty of clutter too, save for three desks, each covered with a variety of equipment and cables that snaked to the floor, and each desk with a comfortable chair beside or beneath it that hadn’t been there moments earlier. Esta paused at the door for a moment, then stepped into the room and walked around it, slowly, pacing it out, savoring the feeling of the room like a cat, tapping the walls with the butt of her spear and, satisfied, she propped it against a wall, went to the nearest chair and sat down, spinning round and round in simple pleasure. Then she slowed down and stopped, looking at Professor John Ames. ‘How does this work?’ she asked, her arm taking in the room with a sweep.

‘How’s it work?’

She ignored the fact he was repeating her words back to her and adding a question mark, saying, ‘How’s everything changed?’

‘It’s that,’ he said, pointing back at the tiny room with the single door.’ I built it.’

‘What’s it do?’

‘It takes me to different times. Us,’ he added. ‘Takes us.’

She snorted. ‘How does it work?’

He gave it some thought, she could see, how to explain it, what to tell her. ‘It’s slippy,’ he explained, finally. ‘Slippy through time. That’s the only way I can describe it.’

She didn’t look impressed.

‘Imagine a riverbed,’ he said. ‘That’s the universe. The world we live in. And the river itself is time. Mostly we’re with the water, moving along the riverbed, always in one direction, forward. That little room is like a fish, it can swim in either direction. It’s free of the,’ he paused to consider the right word, ‘it’s free of the inevitability of the river and the riverbed.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It’s not quite tethered. To time or space.’

‘So where are we?’

‘You should ask when are we?’

She looked unimpressed but humored him. ‘When are we?’

‘Sixty-five years ago. From where we were.’

She said, ‘Can we go and look? Outside?’

He said, ‘Leave your spear behind, maybe?’

‘Ok.’

She unlocked the knife from the staff with a click, tucked it into her boot, unfurled her skirt she wore over her pants so that it was calf length, covering the blade.

He went to the door and she followed, he turned, ‘Those two men who chased us...’

‘Dead.’

He went to ask something more but she just stared at him, repeated the word, mouthing it silently. Dead. He glanced at the dark stain on her hip, not her blood, she’d explained. It was someone’s though, and it had not yet gone dark, still glistening, still damp. A single spot. He took a long deep breath, ‘I can’t expect life to stay the same for sixty years,’ he told himself, ‘The world changed.’

This last spoken out loud.

She nodded, ‘I heard that it did,’ opening the door, impatiently. They walked up three flights of stairs, he huffing and puffing, she collected, serene, unhurried. Outside, instead of nighttime darkness, it was full daylight.

‘Come with me,’ he said. The Professor was pleased with his work but as a fat, rather plain man, he was also quietly pleased too to be accompanied by a tall, lean, strikingly attractive young woman. She swayed when she walked. On some primal level, having her with him as he swiped his keycard to open the barrier to the outside world pleased him more than any scientific breakthrough could. ‘Can I take you for a latte?’ he asked her.

‘Ok,’ she said, not knowing what latte was.

---

‘So this is your world?’ Esta said.

‘Yes. Do you like it?’ he was somehow eager that she should be impressed and he studied her as he spoke. She had black hair, cheekbones too large for her face, a wide mouth that curled at the edges, and her eyes were green with flashes of amber. The iris of her left eye was keyhole shaped. She was strikingly beautiful in a harsh, unforgiving kind of way, even the clothes she wore, the muted colors, the functional, purposeful cut of them - even her clothes complimented her quiet beauty.

She shook her head dismissively, looking around. ‘Too much going on. Too much noise. Too many people.’

‘You like the coffee?’

‘It tastes like bitter milk,’ she said. ‘It’s ok.’ She drank some more, then she said, ‘I’ve seen enough. Take me back.’

The professor sat back in his chair, at ease. ‘And what if I don’t?’ he asked playfully.

Her eyes bored through him. ‘I’ll take out my knife and I’ll blind you. Then I’ll cut off your balls. Take me back.’

‘Your sense of humor lacks any…humor,’ he said.

‘You’re fat.’

‘I can lose weight.’

‘I laugh when things are funny,’ she said, adding, ‘and you will never lose weight.’

‘What are you, my doctor?’ he asked, trying for a humorous tone that he couldn’t quite make out in hers.

‘If I was, I’d throw myself from a tall building for being a failure,’ she looked at him, only the slightest raise of one eyebrow a clue that she was teasing him and, finally, he got it, chose to get it, grinned. ‘Forgive me, Esta. I’ll take you back to where I found you.’

‘So this is sixty years ago?’ she asked as they stood to go.

‘Sixty-five. Where we are, this is now.’

‘And that little room slides between times?’

They were walking back to the science institute now. ‘Pretty much,’ he said.

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure I could explain how it works,’ he said.

She shook her head, ‘No, I meant why did you build it?’

---

If you are enjoying this story please like, comment and subscribe. If you want to help support my writing project, please consider a paid subscription.