Out of Time by Ryan Matthew Harker (ebooks online reader txt) 📕

As I’m tying the flag to its improvisional pole and setting it in the ground I explain America to Sammi. “It’s actually America,” I tell her. “It’s the country I grew up in. It encompasses this land.” I sweep an arm about and the flag almost topples. I hurry to steady it, piling rocks around the base as Sammi brings them to me. “Actually, from the looks of things, it used to encompass this land.” I sigh and plant the last rock. “It was once the greatest country in history.”

I stand up, give the pole a firm shake to make sure it’ll withstand stress and weather, and brush my hands together to dislodge accumulative dirt particles. Ha, dirt particles, looking at my hands only serves to remind me that, along with food, it’s been a inordinate amount of time since my last shower. My only consolation in the matter is it’s been an equally, or nearly so, long amount of time since Sammi’s done the same.

“Let’s see if we can find some food,” I say as I plant my hands on my hips, rocking back on my heels to stare off in the distance.

“Do you think we’ll be able to find anything here?” Sammi asks. “This place looks so barren.”

“No,” I admit. “Unfortunately I’ve developed an unhealthy need to moderately explore every Time I happen across.” I grab her by the hand. “Let’s explore a little. If we don’t stumble across anything soon, we’ll try a different Time.”

“Sounds good,” she agrees and we start strolling over the rolling dunes of this wasteland.

It’s sort of pretty in its way. Reminds me quite a bit of Mars. Thinking of Mars reminds me of what Sammi told me about my experience there being only a dream. Ras said basically the same thing when he called it virtual reality. Something about the whole situation bugs me in the back of my mind. The time I spent in the Cryo-Dreamer was so real. It did something to me, changing the way I see reality. It reminds me of being on a low grade acid trip, everything in this desert looks real crisp, clear, and the colors are extra vivid. My mind feels more open, sharper but at the same time a surreal feeling sits right on the edge, threatening to overwhelm it. I need to know more about Cryo-Dreamers.

“What’s a Cryo-Dreamer?” I ask Sammi?

What’s a Cryo-Dreamer, echoes in my ears.

I’m awake in the comfortable bed.

It’s rather frightening me. I keep waking up in compromising situations with no memory of how I got there. Not so unlike blacking out after a night of heavy drinking. I think I prefer the drinking.

“Are you awake?”

I open my eyes in a snap. It’s Sammi. I’m in the bed. Definitely not hungover.

I sit up in the bed, pushing back from Sammi as I demand, “Just what the heck is going on here?!”

She reads the panic just right, sits back, and holds her hands up. “It’s ok, Davey. You’re safe.”

“I just left you,” I stammer. “We were in 3023.”

“Where?”

“Not where, when. We were in 3023.”

“We were in the tower. You took a pretty good knock on your head. I got you back to the Lander. Now we’re on our way back to Earth. You’ve been comatose through it all.” Sammi is trying to reassure me. I want to believe her but I can’t.

“No!” I insist. “I thought I was here but I was really in a Cryo-Dreamer. You thawed me out and we fought our way to the Chronicler.”

“The Chronicler?”

“Yes, only when we got there so was Ras. He had Zenociders with him, too many to escape, we had to Travel.”

“Travel?” she asks. “Travel how?”

“With Khronos. I told him to Travel and he brought us to the year 3023. We were just starting to look for food and I woke up here... again,” I try to shake the confusion from my brain. “But if this was only a virtual reality inside the Cryo-Dreamer, how did I get here this time?”

“What’s a Cryo-Dreamer?”

Confusion paints Sammi’s face as surely as it does my own. I place my hands over my face and rub my eyes with my palms. “I don’t know. You were about to tell me when I woke up.”

“When you woke up. See, it was only a dream,” Sammi smiles. She looks relieved. “I’ve never even heard of a Cryo-Dreamer before.”

I groan and flop back down into the cushiony softness of the bed, closing my eyes to this reality. Could it be true? Did I just dream the battle at the DTA building? I wish I could be sure. It seemed so real.

“Are you hungry?” Sammi asks.

“Yes,” I mumble. “Famished.”

“I’ll go get you something to eat.” I hear Sammi stand up and walk across the room. The door whooshes open and she says, “Your stuff is in the chest at the foot of the bed.” A couple more steps, another whoosh, and I’m alone.

This life I’m living is as about as complicated as about any relationship I’ve ever been in. I may be in a relationship right now for all I know. I definitely have some overly strong feelings for Sammi, and she did risk her life to save me from Wolfman. Whoa, hold on a minute here! I’m getting a little off base. Yeah, she saved my life, that’s to say if this isn’t a dream, or an elaborate ruse by Ras, or, or, or who knows what.

I shove aside my frustration at not knowing and throw aside the blankets that cover me. I swing my legs off the bed and the floor is surprisingly warm under my bare feet. Standing and walking to the foot of the bed brings back the memory of my rescue, the explosion that knocked me out, by the aches in multiple parts of my body. Opening the trunk I retrieve my clothes and dress. I’ve spent just about as much time sleeping and getting dressed lately than just about anything else. My clothes are clean for the first time in months, Sammi must’ve washed them, and they feel heavenly against my skin. I’m clean as well, she must’ve bathed me while I was out. The sensation is pure bliss.

I crouch down again, slow, gingerly so as not to aggravate aches that waking up in a box and an intense fight down twenty flights of stairs almost had me forgetting. My trench is neatly folded at the bottom. It looks a darn sight worse for wear after years (and millennium) of sideslipping through Space/Time. Though a lot better now that it’s been washed. I smile at the memory of the day I bought it. I was a sorry little squirt back then, and I’m sad to think somewhere out there in the multiverse there are versions of me that never went to the track, was never fearful for his life, and above all else, never stumbled into his future self’s apartment and paradoxically picked up his Timemachine.

I pick up the trench. Under it, at the bottom of the trunk, are my guns and my SEAID. Thankfully. “Khronos, you in there?”

“Yes, Davey. I am fully charged,” issues from the little, square black box.

I’m thinking about how Khronos in the other reality was acting. “How’re you doing?” I ask him.

“All systems are green. I am fully operational. Thank you for asking, Davey.”

“Um, yeah, you’re welcome. So, ah, Khronos, have you been keeping an eye on everything.”

“I do not have eyes, Davey.”

“Yeah, I know, but what I mean is, have you been observing events as they take place around us. You know, thinking about the team...”

“The team? You, Sammi, and I?”

“...yeah, the team. Thinking about what we’re doing and how it can be done and what stuff might happen and what to do if it does? Have you be thinking about these things?”

“If you are inquiring whether I am noting the course of your actions throughout certain key intervals and analyzing their corresponding relationships with what you have repeatedly stated is the goal by which you wish to measure the successful completion of our mission, and if you are further inquiring if I can deduce what the most prudent actions would be to any given situation we might find ourselves in, then the answer to your inquiries is, yes.”

And there you have it, from the horse’s mouth. And, if I’m not mistaken, that’s pretty much the same answer he gave me last time. One thing’s for certain, he’s getting smarter, and his learning curve is definitely a lot higher than TRU’s.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“For what, Davey?”

“For being so danged smart.”

If a talking cell phone could smile, I’m sure Khronos is beaming when he says, “You are very welcome, Davey!”

I tuck Khronos into my back pocket and stuff the trench back on top of my guns before closing the trunk. As the trunk latch clicks I hear a whoosh behind me and Sammi enters the room, bringing the tantalizing smell of food in with her.

“Good, you’re up!” she cheerfully announces. “I’ve got bacon and eggs, sausage and biscuits, milk, and I even found an orange!”

“Outstanding!” My excitement for the menu is only matched by my hunger. “All of it sounds amazing!”

“I’ll just set it over here.” Sammi brings the heavily laden tray over to a low table in the corner of the room and sets it down.

I’m famished, so like a ravening wolf I set on the meal and begin devouring it. The bacon doesn’t stand a chance, neither does the orange, then I gobble up the eggs and the sausage, making sure to wash it all down with the tall, ice cold glass of milk. OMG! Bacon, milk! These are the things which bring Heaven to Earth, or a spaceship shooting through the ether on its way to that humble little blue and green planet.

I drop the fork on the plate and drain the last dribbles of milk from the glass before belching loudly in appreciation . I push my chair away from the table and lean it back on two legs.

“That was incredible,” I say as I rub my distended belly.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Sammi says. She stands to one side of me and had been watching in silence as I shoveled the meal into my gullet. She picks up the scraped plate. “Let’s take this back to the galley and go up to the bridge.”

I acknowledge the idea by settling my chair back to four legs and rising from its seat. Sammi leads the way. The from the cabin whooshes open and shut as we pass through it. The galley isn’t far and Sammi disposes of the dirty dishes in one of its auto-washers. From there we go to the bridge, traversing a couple corridors and a short trip in an elevator to get there.

The bridge is fairly impressive in its own right. Banks of electrical equipment and guidance controls are under a large viewport through which one can watch stars streak past. In front of this sits three comfortable chairs mounted on a single post. The chairs are plush and obviously intended to swivel in position. I’m in awe of the complexity of the layout. So this is what it takes to pilot a spaceship.

“How do you know how to fly this thing?” I ask Sammi as I move about scrutinizing the different labels and lights identifying everything.

She shuffles her feet in embarrassment. “Um, I don’t really know how to fly it,” she discloses. “I just typed ‘Return to Earth’ into the console and hit the button that said autopilot.”

I laugh, “That’s all huh? Well, whatever works I guess. You do know we’re headed back to Earth, right?”

“I’m pretty sure,” she says. “That’s what the computer said before we took off, and it’s confirmed it a few times after it made course corrections.”

“Good enough for me,” I