Surfacing (Spark Saga) (17 page)

             
In one swift movement, Alex leans in and kisses my neck lightly and whispers in my ear, “You are a beautiful thing, Tess Turner.”

Zach

              Exhausted from the game, I go home fairly early and crash.  Dani was a little upset, but she understood, plus I’d be all rested up for the dance, so she agreed.  I am asleep almost immediately, but I wake up a couple hours later in a panic from a dream:

              It is dark.  The wind is blowing.  I don’t know where I’m at, somewhere wide open—a park or a field.  The wind stops completely for a moment, and I take a deep breath.  Then, an enormous gust of cold air, followed by a bright pulsating light in the sky, literally takes my breath away.  At first, I am certain this place—wherever it may be—has something to do with
The Time Machine
.  I’m merely imagining some scene I have read.  A vague worry crosses my mind, that this place will be frightening—strange creatures and objects?  The ends of the earth?  The thought builds and builds until it becomes oppressive.  I am immobilized with fear.  Suddenly, I realize that the pulsating lights are streaks of lightning.

             
In the distance, I see the slight suggestion of a person, and my first thought is my father.  That here, in my dream, is how he has chosen to make his presence known to me.  As my eyes adjust to the light, I realize it is too small to be my father, and, finally, that the figure is wearing a white dress.  I walk toward her.  Thunder booms and there is a metallic taste in my mouth.  As she starts to turn, I notice another figure standing about twenty feet away from her, wearing a similar white dress.  A sudden blinding flash of lightning reveals that the first figure is Tess.  I squint my eyes in the direction of the other figure, and, as I suspected, it’s Dani.

             
A memory surfaces.  I am standing behind Tess who is in the yard in the midst of a storm that threatens to surge at any moment.  This is where I am.  A stream of lightning ripples across the sky effortlessly, silently, until the thunder explodes upon us.  I call out to them, to come away, get out of the storm, but they simply stand there.  I am frozen.  I want to run back to safety, but I know I must try to help them…. But who?  Which one will I go to?  I fall down on my knees and cover my ears.  And I wake up.

             
I throw the covers off and try to orient myself.  The clock says 11:00.  My heart is beating, thinking about the dream.  Forced to choose either Dani or Tess to save, I woke up at the critical moment.  It is not a decision I would want to make, that’s for sure.  Too nervous to go back to sleep at the moment, I sit down at my computer and open my email to a message:

September 10, 2012

TO:
                            Zach Webb

FROM:
              E.G.W.

RE:
                            Follow-up

Dear Zach,

Since you have not responded to my last message, that you either did not get it, or you are still considering it
, I will assume that you did get it, and that you have not decided how to reply.  Let me continue, with hopes you will receive it well.

There was a moment during the research project, when I needed to take it to the next level.  I had studied Tess’s brain activity, and had made the connections needed to facilitate time travel.  And yet, I had to connect it to present time.  After some consideration, I decided that the presence of a memory chip would be needed within the subject, so that I could record the activity.  If I have any regrets about this project, it is that I did not consult anyone upon my decision to implant the chip.  Believe me, the thought has likely just crossed your mind—that I took this liberty without permission—has occurred to me on many occasions, and yet, the benefits of the project as a whole certainly warrant it, in my opinion.  So, judge me as you will.  Suffice it to say that I did consider all options, and that is simply how it progressed—from theory and a few scientific building blocks, to actual revelations about time travel.  I discovered, after studying the activity on Tess’s memory chip, that I was able to artificially “plant” various concepts that would become part of her memory.  I chose things I was fairly certain she would
not know about, such as the words to a song that had just been released.  And it stayed. I discovered that her brain held unusual currents that I presumed a result of her accident, that created a perfect environment for exploring the possibilities of memory.  She was the perfect specimen because of her unique significance and experience…not just that Tess Turner was made for time travel, but indeed, if time travel was made
for Tess Turner.

Now to the rest of the story.

Once my hypothesis about time travel was placed within practical perimeters, I decided to try it myself.  I went to my favorite hiking spot, as you may know, at Deer Creek.  I had implanted my own chip, containing specific neuron activity from Tess’s chip.  In short, I had essentially programmed myself for time travel, using the catalyst of lightning.

I chose a stormy day, of course.  Your mother asked me where I was going in such terrible weather, but I explained it was for the research project, without giving her further details.  Incidentally, she was always completely supportive of my work…

At any rate, there I was.  It was an exciting moment, but, in truth, very daunting as well.  I was about to enter another time.  Many thoughts pervaded my mind…including injury, or death—or worse, to be abandoned alone in some strange place, unable to return.

These were my thoughts, as I proceeded. 

At some point in time, I will tell you specifically what happened that day.  To summarize, I discovered the reality of time travel.  I had survived it, intact.  And I had a wealth of new information to record in my logs.  All my hard work had finally paid off.

I will leave you with this now and allow you time to ask questions, if necessary.  I have much more to tell you.

Affectionately,

E.G.W.

I have been thinking about a way to confirm the messenger’s identity.  Since he indicated that the chip is only accessibly prior to its implantation, any earlier memory could confirm it.  I have also considered the possibility that he is simply making this up, so I must choose carefully.  If I ask the right question, then I can be relatively sure it’s my father.

September 10, 2012

TO:                            E.G.W.

FROM:
              Zach

RE:
                            Follow-up

What was the song my grandma used to sing to
me when I was little?

Within a few minutes, he replies with the answer I was looking for:  “You Are My Sunshine.”  Almost instantly, my pulse quickens.  This is a memory we both had, prior to the chips, so it is a fairly good indicator of his identity.  The only question that matters now is where he is.  Is he contacting me
from the future?
  My mind reels with the idea of it, and yet, I have to smile.  It would make sense, the pinnacle of his career, to accomplish such a feat.

September 10, 2012

TO:                            E.G.W.

FROM:
              Zach             

RE:
                            Follow-up

I will set aside my reservations for the moment and assume that you are who you say you are, and that this communication with me serves some greater purpose, which I will wait, patiently, to hear.  I supposed my most pressing question is… are you alive?

Sincerely,

Zach

September 10, 2012

TO:
                            Zach

FROM:
              Your Father

RE:
                            Follow-up

A most pressing question indeed, and one that I have anticipated. 
But you are not ready for the answer. 

Ok, there are two possibilities here.  One, my father is alive somewhere (unlikely).  Two, I am actually communicating with someone else.  Someone else who has already authenticated his identity.  I am so confused.

September 10, 2012

TO:                            E.G.W.

FROM:
              Zach             

RE:
                            Follow-up

I no longer know what I’m doing or who I’m communicating with.  I must end this correspondence as it is causing me undue stress.

September 10, 2012

TO:                            Zach

FROM:
              E.G.W.             

RE:
                            Follow-up

Please do not be confused.  All responses are authentic, and will be utilized in such a way to ensure the best possible outcome for you, Zach, as that is my greatest priority—then, and now, and forever.

However, that said, the technology is not fool-proof.  There are inevitable limitations, as with any science.  The limitations exist in the thin line between what is known, tangibly, and what the mind perceives and feels.  That is the line between Truth and Belief.  We choose what we want to believe, regardless of what we, in truth, see before our very eyes and within our minds.  You may be wondering why, given my inevitable death, I did not choose to journey to the future and never come back—with hopes that perhaps some medical procedure could save my life.  I did consider this possibility, but the truth is—and this truth, I believe—I wanted to die near the people I love the most—you and your mother.  I chose the natural progression of things rather than tempting fate by changing circumstances, because it was more important to me to experience love.

Now as to this matter with you and Tess, I have mentioned that you must proceed carefully.  Indeed, for reasons far surpassing your own earthly desires.  This research is secret, and I fear that, if given over to the wrong hands, it will be used for ignoble purposes.  That said, moving forward, you must keep all communication to yourself.  You cannot even reveal these discussions to Tess herself.  This may seem odd to you, considering your previous methods of
convincing her…but let me be clear:  I have seen the natural progression of things, and you must not do anything to jeopardize it.  To do so could prove disastrous for both yourself and others in your life. 

Here is the truth (I have seen it):  You will marry Tess Turner.  It is not wise to utilize this technology for any purpose other than to further the good of mankind as a whole.  This means that any personal use of it must be destroyed.  Your chip must be destroyed, and mine as well.  Once this has been done, you must deliver all research logs to the proper authority whom I will designate at a later time, once these tasks have been accomplished.  Believe me, it is for the best.

Sincerely,

Your father

Tess

              Oh my, am I imagining things, or did Alex just kiss me and tell me I’m beautiful?  I’m feeling lightheaded.  I look at him and he is staring directly into my eyes and he just nods, as if to say, “That’s right.”

             
I lean closer and wrap my arms around his neck, mainly to keep from fainting, I think. 
What the heck?  What happened to just friends?  Was this whole friend date thing just a way to get me alone?

             
“Where’s Cricket?”  I ask, my nerves flipping out.

             
“I dunno,” Alex says, brushing his lips across my neck again.  “You smell good.”  The music changes again, a slow song now… Adele.

             
Crap.
 
Now what?  Where the heck IS Cricket, anyway?  Please, Cricket, rescue me.
  I’m thinking these things, but to tell you the truth, Alex is looking so adorable, that I can’t
not
stare back into his eyes.  I have no idea what to say.  My stomach is whirling around and it’s making me dizzy. 

             
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”  Alex, whispering, kissing my neck, words I’d never imagined anyone saying.  “To be this close to you?”

             
I am still searching the crowd for Cricket, Dani—anyone.  But I don’t recognize a single soul.  It’s as if Alex and I are the only ones here.  I hear myself saying, “This feels so nice,” laying my head on his shoulder. 
Whoa, did I just say that?  What is going on?

             
“I knew it would,” he replies, his fingers entwining in my hair.  “I’m glad you’re here.”