Wallace Singer ran through the dark suburban streets with the devil at his heels. He was late, by a whole half hour. By the time he reached the place, the others would be gone. He would be met with the mocking silence of an empty house. He was sure of it. But he had to try. Anything would be better than to waste away in his brother's house, eating cup noodles while surrounded by reminders of his inadequacy. It would be torture by itself for all this to be for nothing, when he was already filled with knowledge that destroyed whatever peace he had.
They were everywhere now, watching him, mocking his doomed route. They stared from behind the manicured hedges, through the openings in the blinds of the bedroom windows, from the spaces in between the homes. Even the heavens were full of Their eyes- here and there a satellite, or maybe even the stars themselves were surveillance! He would never be able to hide himself from Them. So he might as well attempt to escape.
Just a few houses more...
And he reached it. The Doc's place, exactly like every other on the street, but harboring perhaps the most dangerous technology in human history.
He vaulted the fence guarding the backyard. The cellar doors were just around back, half buried in a garden. He pounded his fists on them, even stomped down in desperation.
The seconds that passed were total eternity. In the silence, the gears in Wallace's head ground against each other so forcefully that they threatened to tear his skull apart. No one would answer. He would be left out here to rot- worse, They would find him. He had gotten involved just enough to fill his head with damning knowledge, for which They would come. All the terrible cost without any real adventure, and all because of his tardiness.
No- not because of himself.
It was all John's fault. His idiot brother had stayed up late watching movies with his idiot girlfriend. How was Wallace supposed to sneak out unnoticed when the TV was right next to the backdoor? That bastard. Poetic, to be ruined by his brother yet again.
A click stopped his spiraling thoughts.
One of the doors opened just a crack. Then it rose all the way.
A mix of complete shock and joy to see Finn holding the door, staring at him with sullen blue eyes. He didn't seem angry that Wallace was late, but he didn't seem happy either. His bearded mouth was twisted into a mute line of worry. Wallace's relief melted from the acidic terror forming in his stomach. If they were still here, as good as that was... then something had gone wrong.
Without a word, Wallace squeezed past Finn and clambered down the ladder. Another click as the door locked above him.
Just being in the cellar made Wallace's skin crawl. It was a mad scientist's dumping ground. Cobweb-infested shelves held hundreds of test tubes and used syringes and rusting microscopes. Rodents crawled underneath enormous piles of garbage piled up around the room.
In the center of the cellar, the crux of this whole operation. A dozen monitors, and next to them, a mass about the size of a human being, shrouded under a white tablecloth. The machine, or at least part of it. It stood atop a circular metal platform with wires running from it to the computers.
Finn brushed past Wallace without paying him any mind, going straight for the monitors.
"What's going on?"
"Oh, nothing. Everything is just peachy, as long as you ignore that the quantum engine in our time machine is stalling out and the super genius doesn’t know what to do about it."
"Ah."
The monitors shifted from camera footage to a labyrinth of code that hurt Wallace's eyes. Finn tapped frantically at the keyboard.
"Take the blanket off. I'm firing it up."
"But you said-"
"I know what I said. It's broken on the other side, what we have here works fine. We need to be ready to go at any-"
Alarms all over the monitor. One of them automatically switched to the cameras, showing a stream of black sedans cruising down the street. Finn swore.
"Do it, now!"
"How close is that? How much time do we have?"
Wallace spoke while his fingers fumbled the fabric. With a tug, he exposed the silvery exterior beneath. This part of the machine was shaped like an enormous metal egg, scratched and dented from what it had taken to get it here.
"That's at the south entrance of the neighborhood. We have five minutes, maybe."
Finn punched away at the keys. A slit formed down the side of the egg and widened until it exposed the interior. It was a steel mess of cables and wiring, big enough for one person to crawl inside, or for two people who weren't particularly claustrophobic.
Another alarm, another monitor changed to a different view Wallace recognised as the north entrance. On the other screen, the view kept changing to follow the cars. There must have been twelve vehicles, each packed with silhouettes.
"Come on!" Finn pushed a final button. The egg let out a high-pitched screech. Wallace jumped back as electricity shot through the wires on the ground and a white orb of bright light formed inside the egg. A gust of air blew out through the basement, stirring the trash.
Through the cacophony, a radio in Finn's back pocket hissed to life. The Doc's voice fought through the static.
"F- Finn! I- it's working! Come, now!"
"Copy! Wallace, as soon as it opens, you jump inside. I'll be right behind you!"
The cameras were showing the driveway outside, where the first car had already parked. The doors swung open, the enormous gun barrels exiting before their handlers. Wallace got his first look at Them as they walked up the driveway.
They were marked as FBI, of course. But the agents outside didn't belong to any known government, and yet, They had a part to play in every country in the world. Not the Illuminati, oh no, They made those guys up as a distraction. At least, that's what the Doc said. And they didn't seem implausible compared to the functioning time machine.
The orb spread out into a circular portal that filled the egg's interior. Wallace hesitated a few feet away.
"What are you waiting for? Jump!"
Wallace backed up to get a running start.
The portal flooded his vision.
This is it.
No returning.
Breathe.
He sprinted and dove headfirst into the light.
...
Wallace should never have been there that day.
There was no one else outside. No one needed to go outside anymore. The outside was dirty, only the machines went out to work.
The inside was comfortable. There was a TV, video games, food, a robot chef. Inside, it was easy to fall back into a deep fog and forget everything.
That's what Wallace was doing all day before he went for a walk. That's what he should've kept doing.
Instead, he picked that exact moment to get sick of it all, sick of his brother, and set foot outside. He picked that exact pace as he walked down the street that took him to the Doc's house.
If he had been two minutes later, or earlier, he would've missed it.
He would've missed the sight of Finn walking away from a moving truck in the driveway with a box, not noticing Wallace or the metal object that slipped out of his box.
Anyone else would've kept walking. Wallace, on the other hand, was cursed with the inability to mind his own business.
Finn was behind the house before Wallace could say anything, so Wallace went to get the metal object.
It was a metal sphere, with screws jutting out from the top and bottom. It fit in the palm of Wallace's hand. They must have been assembling something, a kitchen robot maybe. It didn't look like a piece they made extras for. So he followed the man into the backyard.
He came around just as Finn shut the cellar door behind him. Wallace went after him and started pounding on the doors.
"Hello? Sir? You dropped something."
They let him stew for a moment. Looking back, they must have been checking the cams to make sure no one else was around.
Then in one single blur, Finn leapt out through the doors like an ambush predator and pulled Wallace down.
It took him a moment to process the shock and to realize that there was a cold gun barrel on his temple.
He looked up to find some bearded menace with wicked green eyes holding the weapon.
"Who are you? Who sent you?"
Wallace could only offer the object in reply. Finn snatched it, and as thanks, hit him across the face with the gun.
"Is this one of your old colleagues?" A new man appeared, this one completely bald and dressed in dirty coveralls.
"I don't recognize him. Where'd you come from?"
"I uh- uh- uh- I live over there! Down the street! Don't shoot me!"
"Like hell you do."
"I swear! I'm just Wallace! I'm nobody! I won't tell anyone!"
This last part seemed appropriate for the situation. His first thought was that he had walked in on a drug deal or a meeting of the mob. But there were only two men here, neither of whom had a foreign accent, and they seemed to be building something. There was a metal framework in the center of the cellar, surrounded by boxes and power tools.
"Oh, you won't."
"NO!!" Wallace found his fear surprising. He didn't have much of a life to lose. Why should he care if he got shot?
"Wait- how did you find this place?" The unarmed man spoke up.
"I was just- he dropped that thing and I- I wanted to return it-"
The second man looked at the first.
"You did what?"
"It was an- accident."
"How could you be so careless?"
"Well, look how small it is!"
"My God, Finn, how did you ever make it as one of them?"
The second man turned to Wallace.
"What's your name, son?"
"Wallace. Singer. I live at 983 South Pine Street with my brother John, I swear!"
The man sighed.
"He's nobody."
"Then we can kill him?"
"No!"
"What do we do?"
"I won't tell anyone! I don't have anyone to tell!" Wallace was almost sobbing by then.
"You just mentioned your brother."
"I won't! Especially not him."
The two men exchanged a glance.
"Alright, Wallace. I'll tell you what. If I let you go, and if you don't tell anyone, you can come back here at midnight, sharp."
"What?!"
"Shut up, Finn. Wallace, if you come back here, you can be a part of something unbelievable."
"Have you lost your mind?!"
"Listen, I know his type. These people, they sit around all day doing nothing. What's he supposed to say, if he does tell anyone? Son, if you aren't back here at midnight exactly, They will find you, and They will kill you just for knowing about this."
"They?"
"You'll know 'em when you see 'em."
"Doc, are you sure-"
"Yes! I'm sure. Now get outta here, kid. Hug your family, if you have one. It's eight o'clock now. I expect you back here in four hours, if you know what's good for you."
Wallace stumbled out into a world where nothing seemed real anymore.
He thought more during those four hours than he had for the past two years of his life. Should he go back there? Where those two men were building... something. Something big, something they shouldn't. And They didn't want them to.
That was all he knew. His mind jumped to fill in the blanks and spin him quite the narrative. He always knew They were watching, and this only confirmed it. They were already after him. He was in this dump because of Their machinations. And the two men and the mysterious Machine offered a way out.
He wasn't about to test if they were lying, only to find a man with pale skin and sunglasses knocking on the front door one day.
So he did the one reasonable thing and planned his escape.
... There was no break in between one world and the next. As soon as Wallace touched the portal, he was face down on a metal floor. He shot straight up, feeling oddly fine. He wasn't even nauseous.
"Where's Finn?" The Doc was already standing over him, pulling him up to his feet.
Finn hit the ground before Wallace had a chance to respond.
"Quick! Retract the probe!" The Doc shouted.
The portal sat in a concave, oval-shaped space within the wall. Finn went to a pad of buttons and switches on the wall and flipped a lever. On command, the portal stretched to conform to its cubby's shape and size- and like that, without any warning, the portal was replaced by the metal egg, perfectly lodged in the oval dent.
"Did you set off the charges?"
"Yes sir. They were rigged to blow five seconds after I left."
"We got it back just in time, then. Did they come?"
"You couldn't have fixed it sooner- they were walking up the driveway when we left. What did you do?"
"The control board was damaged. It wasn't communicating with anything."
"Oh, fantastic. It's working now, though?"
"Yes. I can pilot it now."
"Uh, I'm sorry. What's going on?"
Both turned to Wallace. Finn spoke first.
"I didn't expect you to show up. Good that you did, I guess."
"Um, thanks."
"I suppose you do deserve some kind of explanation," said the Doc, extending his hand.
"But first, introductions. I am-"
"The Doc. And you're Finn." Judging from their expressions, he was right. Whatever triumph he felt was trumped by unease from the cold suspicion overtaking their faces. He added quickly,
"I just know that because I listened to you talking. I'm not one of them, I swear."
The two exchanged a dubious glance.
"Well, I’m afraid there isn’t much time. We have to move fast, before they come after us on this side. I’m going up to the control room. Finn, get him a suit. And explain, if you can." The Doc started towards a door at the end of the metal hall.
"What does he need a suit for? Are you actually taking him out there with you?"
"Just do it," the Doc said without turning around. The door opened for him when he reached it, and shut behind him.
Finn turned to look at Wallace, his face puzzled.
"I don’t think there’s a simpler way to say this," he said after a pause.
"But in short, this is a, well, a time machine. We stole it from those people in the suits, from Them. I used to be one of them, that’s how we got it. I slipped up, of course, which is how you ended up wrapped in this mess."
"Oh, okay."
"For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for this. People like you… this is too much for people like you."
"No, that’s alright. I didn’t have any other weekend plans, and I don’t think anyone will miss me. My brother definitely won’t miss me."
Finn stared blankly at Wallace for a second.
"You’re just as crazy as him, you know."
He sighed.
"Follow me."
Finn took Wallace through the same door that the Doc had slipped through a moment before. It led to another hallway, the left side leading to a pair of heavy metal doors with a sign labeled “CONTROL” above them, and the right side leading to another small door labeled “EQUIPMENT”. They went right, walking into the equipment room. It was full of aquamarine lockers, a few hanging ajar with dark gray space suits and what looked like silver pajamas hanging on the inside. Finn pulled a locker open and drew out one of the pajamas.
“This is an undersuit. You want to put it on first. Go through the lockers until you find one your size, and then I’ll help you with the suit itself. It’s heavy.”
Wallace shuffled over to the first open locker he saw and took out the undersuit. It smelled of sweat, but when he started slipping it on it fit well. It even felt like pajamas when it was all the way on, though a little bit more stiff with some kind of thick fiber lining the outside. It didn’t itch at least, and that was good. He turned around after putting it on to find Finn standing right behind him.
Silently, Finn held the suit up so that Wallace could enter through a zip-up opening in the back. He wasn’t lying about the weight. It was like putting on a coat of lead so heavy that Wallace had to sit down on a bench after putting it on. There was more after that too, an additional metal plate that went on top of Wallace’s shoulders and a pair of boots. When they were finished, Wallace couldn't even stand up from his seat.
“We'll hold off on the helmet until the Doc comes back,” Finn said, seeing the struggle on Wallace's face.
After he spoke, there was the low rumble of an engine roaring to life beneath their feet. Wallace felt the dropping sensation of an elevator going down in his stomach as the room trembled just slightly.
“Took him long enough,” muttered Finn.
“You know, he has no clue what he's doing. He's got no plan, we're just… running in a random direction. They'll catch us. That's what they do.”
Finn began to pace around the room.
“He’s insane, he’s insane… why did I ever…”
Wallace had the feeling that he was supposed to say something to make Finn feel better, but he didn’t know what. He just kept quiet, watching him walk around the room, talking to himself. Suddenly, he turned and looked straight at Wallace.
“You know, the only reason he’s bringing you along is to use you as bait. We’re both just disposable to him, you know?”
Wallace shook his head. Finn gave a weak laugh.
“I kinda like you, Wallace. Which is why I’m telling you this. Be careful-”
The doors opened and the Doc stormed in triumphantly.
“Wallace! Look at you!”
The Doc beamed a serpentine smile.
“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll suit up too, and I’ll be right with you.”
“Where exactly are we going?” Finn cut in as the Doc began changing into an undersuit.
“A few hundred million years into the past. The Pliocene, to be precise. I have a… hypothesis I’d like to test out there.”
“Understood,” Finn said, taking a suit out of the locker.
“Oh, you’re not going. I need someone capable to watch over the ship while I’m gone,” the Doc said, still with that smile.
“I’ll have Wallace tag along, so he doesn’t bother you. If he runs off out there, it’s his funeral, you know.” The Doc chuckled.
Finn gave Wallace a brief look. Wallace swallowed. Fear began to creep in.
For how old and frail the Doc looked, he was able to put the suit on without any help or issues. He was preparing to put his helmet on when he glanced at Finn.
“The control room is all set up for you, Finn. Feel free to run up there now.”
Finn nodded, and, looking back at Wallace one last time, darted out of the room. The Doc stepped over to Wallace, smile growing wider.
“Why don’t you put your helmet on? See how it feels. We’ll check if your comms work, while we’re at it.”
With some effort, Wallace lifted the helmet off the table and slid it onto his head. It was claustrophobic, but cool instead of stuffy, which was a small mercy. The Doc did the same, his face shrouded behind the tinted visor. He looked down at his wrist and pushed a button. His voice crackled through Wallace’s helmet, echoing from everywhere at once.
“Check, check. Can you hear me?”
“Yes!” Wallace shouted.
“Oh, I can’t hear you. See the panel on your wrist? See the little yellow buttons? Push the one with the number one on it. That’ll be the first channel.”
“Can you hear me now?” Wallace said, doing as he was told.
“Perfect! Well, come along. The unknown is waiting!” With that, he left the room. Wallace spent a full minute trying his best to stand up with the weight. He heaved once, twice, and on the third time stood to his feet, stumbling forward and almost falling again after he did. He straightened himself, acclimating to the weight before heading out the door. But the suit wasn’t the only reason he waited to step out.
Bait. The word kept echoing in his brain. He didn’t know what the Doc was planning, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. While he was debating what to do, his hand brushed against a pocket on his suit and felt a lump. Without thinking, he reached inside and retrieved the object. It was a gun. Metallic, futuristic, and alien, to be sure, but undeniably a gun. His heart thundered. He put it back before he could be seen holding it.
Now, when he stepped outside, he felt a small ounce of hope. He hadn’t shot a gun in years, but it gave him some kind of a chance. The Doc was waiting by where they had entered the ship, the egg gone again and another glowing portal in its place.
“Trouble with the suit?” he asked over the radio.
Wallace nodded.
“Heavy, isn’t it? But you’re practically invincible in that thing, so I’d say it’s a fair trade!” He laughed.
“Well. After you. You get the honor of being the first explorer.” By his voice, Wallace knew he was smiling as he held his hand out towards the portal.
Bait.
Wallace turned toward the portal. He took a deep breath and two steps forward. On the second, he tripped over himself and fell face first into the portal.
…
Wallace fell into a puddle of mud that flooded his whole visor. He tried to prop himself up, only for the mud to wrap around his hands and pull him deeper in. He spent a moment flopping around in the mud, hoping and praying that the Doc wouldn't accidentally step on him while he was in this pathetic state. Eventually, he managed to roll himself over onto his back and rise slowly into a sitting position. Some explorer, he thought to himself while trying to wipe the mud off his visor. It was unlikely that Columbus spent his first moments in the New World flopping on the ground like a fish out of water.
Trying to wipe the muddy visor with his muddy hands didn't do much other than smear it, but some more useless struggling did eventually clear enough space for him to see his surroundings.
He was surrounded by trees, willows perhaps. The ground was a mushy wet soup with dozens of tiny streams passing through, and innumerable shrubs and grasses growing everywhere. Soft sunlight poured down on him through the branches. As he whipped his head from side to side in dumbstruck awe, a beetle buzzed lazily through the air and landed on his visor, staying for just a moment before taking off again. In the midst of this all, there was the time machine...
Shutting. Shrinking. Vanishing.
Wallace exploded into a panic strong enough to help him stand up. Had the Doc let him go first so that he could strand him out here? His radio crackled.
"Don't worry, it'll be back when we need it."
Wallace turned around. The Doc was standing right there, fiddling with some kind of handheld device.
"39.6624... 105.1637 negative..." The Doc mumbled to himself, shaking his head slowly.
"Alright, I've got it." He stuffed his monitor into a pouch on his leg and nodded at Wallace. Wallace stumbled back in sudden terror, tripping and nearly falling over. An enormous shape passed behind the Doc. Wallace only saw parts of it through the trees, enough to see that it was big. The Doc turned around and chuckled.
"Don't mind the local fauna. The biggest ones are all vegetarian anyway." With two lumbering steps, he came close enough that Wallace could again see that deranged smile. He thought of the tiger baring its teeth. He thought of Finn.
Bait...
He tried to smile back.
"Hey, do you want to see something fairly interesting?"
Interesting? Like the inside of a dinosaur's stomach?
"Uh..."
"Come on, Wallace! Where's your sense of adventure? Isn't this all fantastic? Follow me, I promise I won't lead you astray."
The Doc went splashing through the mud, leaving Wallace behind to fidget with his suit while he thought about whether or not to follow. Bait, for what?
By the time the earliest justice system was invented, he'd be fossilized if anything happened. Why him? Why not him? The world was out to get him, that much was for sure. Reason or fairness had never stopped it in the past.
He messed with the pouch on his leg, tearing and sticking the Velcro. He slipped his jittering fingers inside and felt the cool end of a metal object. Too slim to be another hand-held monitor. He took it out.
It was janky, strange, but there was no mistaking it. Here was the trigger, and there the barrel. The last time he shot a handgun was a whole decade ago with his father. But having it in his hands electrified him. He put it back with a deep breath. Now, he could proceed with an ace hidden in his sleeve. Whatever the Doc was planning, he wouldn't see it coming.
Wallace shuffled out of the treeline. The copse broke off into a wide open prairie. Wet grass stretched as far as the eye could see, rivers rushing underneath them. A familiar mountain range rose up out of the horizon. And dispersed through the area, animals. Wallace's inner child exploded with glee at this prehistoric realm. Horse-like creatures galloped across the plains near a herd of grazing woolly mammoths who shook themselves from time to time to get rid of an apparently timeless scourge, mosquitoes. Wallace could see their swarms flocking in patches above the water, the occasional bird dashing through for fast food. Here and there, the prairie was interrupted by a copse of silent trees. What a heavenly place this planet used to be, he thought.
"683 Pine Circle, right?" The Doc caught him off guard with the question and its timing.
"Um, yes," Wallace said, fumbling with the now muddy radio controls.
"Just a little bit further, then."
They trekked for a little while. Most of the wildlife was too far away to notice them, and the rest watched them with wonderful, curious eyes. The Doc stopped suddenly on top of a random bush. He scanned the area around him, took a few steps forward, and turned to face Wallace.
"Ta-da! 683 Pine Circle."
"What?"
"This is about the spot where your house will be four million years in the future. Isn't that amazing?"
Wallace stared blankly.
"We only moved through time, not space. Geographically, we're in the same spot. We'd have to move it when it's on this side to get it to move anywhere. But I find that very interesting. Look, that would be the street right there, and then that house with the two kids who always get into fights in the front yard, and the curve that everyone always takes too fast."
The Doc's giddiness almost made Wallace forget about Finn. Here, he seemed human. Joyful, almost. When Wallace stayed silent, the Doc sighed.
"Oh, alright then. I suppose we should get to work now." The Doc turned around, searching the horizon.
"Straight and Narrow Cont."
"Do you see that ridge, maybe half a mile away?" He pointed into the distance, looking at Wallace.
It was a set of formidable hills, a good deal taller than the surrounding plains. Wallace nodded.
"That's where we're going. I need to confirm a theory of mine."
The Doc set out. Half a mile in this cage of a suit sounded like hell to Wallace, and indeed it was. Half a mile trudging along through mud, each step heavier than the last. Wallace felt like he was swimming in his own sweat. But he didn't really notice. All he could think about was the gun. If something should happen, what did he shoot? Could he shoot the Doc? No, no. Nothing had happened yet. Keep it quiet, but stay ready. Look at this world for now.
By the time Wallace was born, there was less than a thousand acres of the South American rainforest. Tigers and pandas were long extinct. He grew up under a steel gray sky, colored from time to time with a traveling puff of smog. All of this was... too much. To him, the world was always so ugly and crooked, but perhaps his only issue was that he was born four million years too late.
Before long, they approached the ridge. It was a steep and abrupt incline, covered in grasses and rocks. Birds circled overhead, and some kind of rodent scurried up the hill as they neared.
The radio crackled. The Doc's voice came, but as quiet and unintelligible muttering. Wallace figured he'd turned it on by accident. For the last stretch, he heard the Doc's incessant whispering, always just a little bit too quiet to be understood outside of the occasional word or two. His companion's posture drooped down lower the closer they got to the ridge. By the end of it, he was hunched over, hands hanging at the sides.
"Wallace. We're here." With these words, the Doc sunk down to a seated position on the ground.
"I'm a little tired. These limbs don't work how they did when I was your age. Could you go up there and tell me what you see? I'll be right down here."
Bait.
Why, you go right ahead, Wallace. Up to the top of that hill, straight into the mouth of the beast. You'd be doing me a favor, son. If there isn't anything up there, well, color me surprised- there'll be plenty more opportunities to get rid of you. Wallace put his hand on his pocket. Could he undo the Velcro in time in case something was up there?
"Alright, Doc." He smiled and nodded, hoping his tone didn't reveal anything.
He marched towards the hill. It was a steep incline. The weight of Wallace's helmet threatened to pull him back down after every inch he gained. By the end, he was crawling. At the end of his ascent, he collapsed face down.
"Wallace?"
"Sorry, just catching my breath."
When he lifted his head, he immediately wanted to put it down again. His jaw fell to the bottom of his helmet. It wasn't that it was shocking, it was that he didn't know what he was seeing.
"Wallace? Wallace! What's there? Tell me, tell me!"
The words came in intervals, describing the top of the scene first and then all the way to the bottom.
"Uh... there's this... brownish-blackish blimp thing hanging in the sky, kinda low..."
"Yes?"
"And uh, below it there are these... giant bugs- no, crabs. Wearing cloaks."
"Go on. What else?"
"I see... people. I think. They're talking to the crabs. They look like cave men but with... clothes?"
"Anything else?"
"And... oh God. Oh God!"
"Wallace! What?"
"It's Them, sir! It's Them! The agents! We have to go!"
"No! Stay there! Tell me, what are they doing?"
"They've got their own probe, Doc! Except a lot bigger. There's thirty, maybe more! They have guns, sir!"
"What are they doing?!"
"They're, uh, also talking to the crabs. Please, sir! We have to go!"
"Damn you, Wallace! You coward! Come down here, now!"
Wallace tried to run back down the hill. He lost balance halfway, tumbling down to the base. His head knocked against the Doc at the bottom. The other didn't seem to notice. He was pacing around, mumbling to himself.
"There can't be. Humanity doesn't even exist yet. How are they... unless..."
"Doc? We have to go!" Wallace stood to his trembling feet.
"There's no goddamned way it goes as far back as Australopithecus. Even if it did, there's no way they could be here, in North America! Yes, Wallace? Am I right?"
"Doc, please..."
"But why can't it go back that far? They're here, aren't they? What isn't possible?"
Wallace glanced back to the hill. He was so far away. They couldn't have seen him. Unless they did.
"Have you ever thought, Wallace, how exactly they recruit new members if they're so secret?"
"Sir?"
"They don't! You're born into it! It's in your blood! All the way back from the very dawn of humanity!"
"Oh god..." Wallace turned around. If he had been spotted, then every second they waited gave Them a chance to catch up. The Doc's rambling paused. Wallace turned back around, hoping he was ready to run. He saw for a split second the glint of the silver weapon in the Doc's hands as he swung it at Wallace. It was a direct hit, sending his head bouncing between the walls of his helmet. He hit the ground hard on his side. Before he had processed the one hit, the Doc was standing over him with the weapon- a metal baton, just like Finn's. He brought the end down into Wallace's chest. An electric current shot through him, sending his body into convulsions as spit foamed at his mouth. The Doc held the rod for three seconds. Another second, and Wallace was certain he would've died. Instead, the Doc pulled away, leaving Wallace teetering on the edge of consciousness.
"Mother always said we were a chosen race. But I had to know for sure. And now... well, it makes sense. Take the few and spread them out through the world ahead of time, make them stronger. You believe in every one of their lies, Wallace. Your whole life is a lie."
Hollow laughter over the radio.
"Yes, my mother always said we were above the lower swine, like you. But my father... he was a sympathetic fool. He betrayed us. He betrayed the chosen ones."
Through hazy eyes, Wallace vaguely saw the Doc's face. He was practically drooling, blood from his nose dripping down to the spit pouring from his mouth. Blood and spit all over his chin and the teeth in that soulless smile.
"What do you think, Wallace? You think they'll let me back in if I turn in that traitor waiting for me? Will that make up for the father's sins? I think so..."
He turned, shambling away in that hunched walk.
"Well, it was nice knowing you. Don't worry. They won't kill you. You may even be useful for them, for once in your life. As a lab rat. Plenty of drugs and poisons and mind control techniques to test, you know."
Wallace watched the mad scientist walk away, raving to himself. This was it. It had already happened.
Useless.
Pathetic.
Bait.
For once in your life... do something. Don't piss it all away. Don't just watch it slip. Don't watch him walk.
With hands still trembling from the shock, Wallace reached for the pouch.
An agonizing minute of fumbling as he got it open. Another minute to take it out. And another to sit up to his knees, and yet another to lift the weapon up in an unsteady grip.
"Excuse me, sir..."
The Doc turned back.
The gun will not shoot. It will click on an empty magazine. The Doc will laugh and keep moving. With the way Wallace's life is going, that's what should happen.
But every dog has its day.
The gun fires with a report that he hears even through his helmet. It's low. The Doc's leg is turned in such a way that the electric bolt hits the side of his knee, a part unprotected by the knee pad. Blinding light fills the air for just a second. When it passed, it was the Doc's turn to crumple down. His leg was a smoking crater with the bones and muscle on display. The rest of the savannah was visible through the gaping hole in the flesh.
Wallace tried not to look at his face as he walked over. He put the gun away in his pouch, and bent down to search the Doc. The monitor he'd been using was on the undamaged leg, thankfully. He removed it, ignoring the crazed blubbering and babbling coming over the radio.
"Wuh- wuh- Wallace?"
He stared straight at the monitor, only at the monitor. It turned on with a click, showing some sort of map and a set of coordinates at the bottom.
"Sorry, gotta go."
They almost certainly saw that flash of light. Wallace took off. He remembered more or less what the coordinates were, but even then, it was almost a straight shot to that first group of trees. Or was it? No time for questions now.
Wallace ran as fast as he could with armor on. Without looking back. He could not allow himself to look back. Birds erupted from the ground and rodents scurried away as he dashed through water and mud. He'd covered a good distance before he realized his biggest problem.
"It'll be back when we need it."
Well, he needed it. He couldn't get there and find nothing.
Finn. Finn was in the control room. There had to be a way to call him. It was a whole circus act to run, hold the device, and tap at the control pad on his other arm, all at the same time, but there was no other choice. There were several buttons with the speaker symbol. Different channels, he assumed. He clicked each one and screamed Finn's name, waiting a moment for a response and moving to the next. Of course, it was the very last one.
"What? Wallace? That you?"
"You were right, Finn. He's crazy!"
"Oh my God, Wallace! What's going on?"
"Bring the probe back, please! I need to get out of here!"
"Aw- alright, I'm sending it in."
"Thank you, Finn, thank you! I'm coming!"
"What the hell happened? Are you alright? Where's the Doc? What is that horrible sound?"
A growling, snarling sound like a rabid dog joined their voices in the channel.
"I- don't know." Don't look back, don't look back.
"This is the collective channel." Finn paused.
"Wallace, where's the Doc?"
Wallace glanced back. Some distance back, but catching up, a black space suit. The Doc was running like a disjointed rag doll, limbs flying every which way. With each step on the ruined leg, he stumbled forward. But he was closing the distance. And behind him, going even faster- the blur of some sort of creature with a dozen crawling limbs dragging itself across the ground.
"Wallace?"
"I'm almost there."
Wallace looked ahead. No human being should've been able to move that fast, even without such an injury. He thought he recognized the original plot of trees just up ahead, but then again, all the trees looked the same.
"Finn! Finn! Don't help that... that mud person! You and I, we're better! We're the superior race! Don't do this!"
Yes- it was absolutely the same. The coordinates lined up. The finish line was right there. And indeed, he could see the silver sheen of the egg through the trees.
Just before entering, he looked back one more time. The Doc was maybe ten feet behind him, and the multi-limbed crab monster was already close enough that he could see the chinks in its armor. For his own good, he didn't focus on the crab. Instead, he pulled together every ounce of strength he had left to finish the run. There it was, the egg. Open wide, with the portal waiting. If the Doc jumped in right after, then it was all for naught. A horrible shriek tore through the radio. He looked back one more time to see that the Doc's leg had snapped. It was all but off, dangling by a thread of tissue.
He went straight to crawling through the mud. Wallace stumbled backwards until he reached the probe and tripped backwards. The last thing he saw before falling into the portal was the Doc's outstretched hand.
Wallace hit the metal flat on his back. He sat up a moment later to scoot away from the portal. Finn was already tripping the lever.
The Doc's voice rang out through the radio.
"Wait! Don't get me, get them! Get them! I'm not a traitor! I pledge nothing but allegiance to you, most holy one. No, no, n-" The channel cut off when the portal closed.
Wallace lay there for a moment, dumbstruck and all out of breath.
"What happened?" Finn extended an arm to Wallace.
"He went crazy. He tried to ditch me, and he was going to hand you over to them."
"Wallace, what did you see?"
"I don't-" What would he even say? Should he even say it? Finn was one of them after all, there was no telling how he would react. Wallace swallowed. If anything happened, he only needed enough time to draw his weapon. Assuming it still had ammunition.
Wallace relayed the scene the best he could. With each word, Finn's face fell more and more. At the end of it, he leaned back against a wall and slipped down to the floor.
With his head in his hands, he said
"They were always preaching that bullshit about being chosen by alien gods. I thought it was all nonsense but..." he sighed.
"What are we going to do?"
"Wallace, you wouldn't believe the things I've seen. The things I know, the secrets I keep. Conspiracy theories? We make that shit up to distract you. But not even I know what they do to the people they catch. I had another decade of training before they initiated me to that level. I can only imagine what they'll do to us."
"But what- where do we go now?"
"I don't know! When they're hunting you, you don't escape! There's no place on earth we can hide, no time we can hide."
"Why not? Can't you make the probe send us to the middle of Nicaragua in 1815 or something?"
"The machine travels only through time, not space. No matter when we send the probe, we'll be stuck in the middle of Colorado. And they know that. They'll be scouring the whole timeline in that one specific spot."
A lump formed in Wallace's throat. His brave rebellion against death back there was all for nothing. They were going to be caught anyway. It was inevitable.
"Oh god, it's over, it's..."
Wallace could almost see the epiphany as it formed on Finn's face. He shot straight to his feet.
"Follow me. I have an idea."
Finn took off for the door. Wallace went after him, boots clanging against the metal. They went straight for the elevator.
"They'll be expecting us to go to the Jurassic or the Middle Ages or colonial times. They can't be every-when at once, so that's where they'll be going first." The elevator squealed all the way to the top. When it opened, they were in a room that seemed to be made of buttons and switches. The walls were covered with screens, all displaying a nonsense series of numbers and images. All the blinking lights nearly caused Wallace an aneurysm just by looking at them.
"What they won't be expecting at first is us to go to the future. After we left. Not too near, not too far. What would the sweet spot be?"
Like a maestro puts his hands on a piano and creates a beautiful symphony, so it was with Finn and the control room. His hands seemed to run all by themselves, clicking and flicking and tapping. Something deep beneath their feet roared to life.
"Five years. No, ten years. Yes. That should be good. They wouldn't be surveilling it as strongly by then. I wonder what they covered the explosion as. A gas leak? Terrorism?"
"Explosion?"
"The Doc had me load the house with C4 and blow it up before we left. They'd find themselves a smoking crater out there."
"But- the people."
"Oh, I wouldn't be afraid. Us agents can take a lot more than that and stand back up."
"I mean, the other people. Your neighbors."
Finn looked Wallace dead in the eyes. They held the stare for a moment.
"If they weren't right by the windows, they should've been fine. Now, ten years."
There were absolutely people next to the windows. Most bedrooms have windows. And people were sleeping. Kids were sleeping. Wallace kept quiet. Instead, he took off the helmet he didn't realize he was still wearing.
An engine roared to life. The machine moved, not forward or back but upwards like one enormous elevator. It went with gradually mounting speed until it seemed like Wallace would be squashed into the floor. And just like that, it stopped after almost no time at all and without dropping speed. Wallace went a few inches off the ground and came back down on his rear.
"Alright, that's it. The year 2040. Do you think they have flying cars by now?" Finn chuckled. Wallace was too busy standing up to laugh back.
Finn's smile quickly vanished. His brow furrowed at numbers displayed on one of the screens. He didn't seem particularly happy with them, whatever they meant.
"Hold on, Wallace. I'm going to check something." He pushed a few more buttons. Words Wallace actually understood came up on a screen: REMOTE PROBE LAUNCH INITIATED. A moment later, LAUNCH SUCCESSFUL.
"What the hell?" Finn almost shrieked at the sight of some new numbers appearing. A few monitors changed to video screens. It must have been what the probe was seeing. Wallace could tell, without Finn's reaction, that it was not seeing the right thing. Rubble, everywhere. The Rockies were still there in one direction, and there were a few trees standing, but there was not a single intact structure as far as the eye could see. Everything was rocks and lichen.
"Nobody got hurt, huh?"
"No! With that kind of blast, nearby houses may have been damaged but... nothing like this. Look! That's Denver over there. Or at least, it used to be."
Finn pointed to some distant ruins on the monitor.
"What happened?" Finn did not respond. He only turned to Wallace with a reluctant look on his face.
"I hate to ask you this."
"Oh God, no!"
"But since you already have your suit on and everything... could you step out there for me?"
Wallace walked up to the portal carefully this time, overstepping the uneven bump in the floor with a slow stride. He went to the other side with the proper entrance for a temporal explorer, walking slowly and triumphantly out into the new world. And what a world it was.
He could already see the tops of ruined homes peeking up over the walls of the crater he was standing in. Here and there he saw a fragment of rotting wood buried in the dirt around him, or a charred stud sticking out of the dirt, but not one other bit of evidence that there had ever been a house here. He took a few staggered steps forward to the section of wall that seemed easiest to climb. The suit made even hoisting himself over difficult, but he made it up with the sense that he was starting to get the hang of this.
"Wallace? Are you alright?" Finn asked when Wallace was already brushing the dirt off himself at the top.
"Yeah, just fantastic. What am I supposed to do here exactly?"
"Well, unless the footage was wrong you should be seeing a whole lot of not so magnificent desolation."
"Actually, I'd say it is pretty magnificent." Green. Everywhere he looked it was green. Scars of green ran everywhere through the cracked asphalt. The ruins were wrapped in flowering vines. Hints of gray still lingered in the sky, but the blue was breaking through in some places as if a giant had scraped some of the smog off with his finger. In the distance, the same mountains he had seen millions of years ago still stood tall. Most importantly, there was nobody.
"Is there anything out there? Any signs of life?"
"There's plenty of life. Just no people."
Wallace turned in the direction of Denver and was faced with a giant dent in the landscape where the skyscrapers should've been.
"Oh, that's... not good, is it?"
"I don't know, I can't see. But if you're seeing any massive holes in the ground, that would be from the nuke."
"Nuke?"
"You sound surprised. The agency's been watching. The uppers were saying we were due for nuclear conflict almost any day by the time I left. It was all they could do to keep the politicians reined in. What I want to know is when exactly it did end up happening."
"Wait a minute- is it radioactive out here?"
"The suit filters it out, and even if it didn't, these levels I'm seeing shouldn't be enough to kill you unless you're there for a long time, which you won't be. The tool I put in your backpack is a soil sampler. All I want you to do is find a spot, preferably under still water, and take a sample of dirt. That's all."
There was some perfectly good dirt right underneath Wallace's feet. With relief, he began to pull the backpack off his shoulders. He had already drawn out the tool, which looked like a pogo stick with the end hollowed out, when Finn spoke up again.
"Before you just go for the first patch of dirt you find, you have to make sure it's level and undisturbed. Again, it would be best if you found some still water."
"Where the hell am I gonna find still water? You want me to walk to Bear Creek?"
"Check the homes first. The basements might've flooded."
Wallace groaned at the prospect of staying longer. There was something eerie in the air, despite the beauty. The landscape was picturesque, but best observed as a picture, when no radioactive mutants could leap out at you. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and went straight for the closest house.
It looked like it was held together by nothing but spit. He knocked on the door, laughing quietly to himself as he did. The door squealed open, hanging on only by the bottom hinge. He expected a cramped, rotting haunted house with plenty of dark corners for zombies to hide. Instead, he found the back half of the house completely ripped open, light pouring in from every corner. He slipped inside, scrunching up so that the suit wouldn't get stuck.
There was more mold inside than anything. While searching for the basement door, he found a windowsill overrun with unchecked house plants, portraits on the walls glossed over with green residue, and the remains of some rotten food spread out through the kitchen. He wondered if any kids had lived here, if they had been here for the blast. If they had, had they known what was going to happen before the shockwave hit? The house was totally empty besides the top half of a personal kitchen robot lying inert before the stairs to the basement. Its legs were down the stairs, half submerged in filthy water.
Wallace lit up again. Score! This would be over fast after all.
He shuffled slowly down the steps, hearing them creak underneath his every step. If he fell over in the water, he would definitely drown with all this weight.
Not in his wildest imaginations had he thought digging up dirt would be as difficult as it was. He had to step waist-deep into the practically septic pool and squint for a spot where the ground was exposed below the floorboards. The only light in the basement spilled through cracks in the ceiling, and every sunspot illuminated glistening swarms of mosquitoes. Of course, the dirt spot he found was right underneath a cloud of the bloodsuckers. He had to contend with them crawling all over his visor, all while trying to sample the dirt without also disturbing it with his clumsy footfalls. But he did it.
While marching back up, he had to decide whether to feel triumphant or disgusted. He couldn't wait to shed this second layer of skin, dripping with what was more or less septic water. Finn ordered him to return immediately, as if Wallace was planning to stay a while and frolick through irradiated daisy fields. He shuffled back out the front door with the tube full of soil clenched in his fist, feeling not half bad about himself. On his way to the crater across the street, he cast a sort of offhand glance to his left.
There was an unfortunately familiar presence at the end of the street. Its hulking figure was insectile, but the segmented shell and the pinching claws convinced him it was some kind of crustacean. It had eight pairs of limbs, two of which it was standing on with the other six held out in front of it, each ascending pair ending with more cruel claws until the very last, which were large enough to snap Wallace in half. Its head was oddly doglike, elongated with a large nose, ending with serrated mandibles instead of a panting mouth. The back of its head flared out into an impressive fan studded with four enormous eyes and more small ones in the center of its "face". It was wearing a black cloak with a golden trim. The slit pupils of its larger eyes looked directly at him in total silence. Behind it in the sky, there was another brown blimp, only much closer.
This was the thing that had killed Doc. He was only a few feet away from the pod, but they were fast. He could only stand there and hold its gaze.
"Wallace? What happened?"
The crab didn't move either. He wished it would rush over now. He would fight back. Go for the eyes. Prompt it to kill him instead of taking him prisoner. With those claws, it would be painless.
But the creature relaxed, lowering its arms. The mandibles seemed to exhale in what resembled something of an exasperated sigh. It turned to crawl away without looking at Wallace.
"It's like I wasn't worth the time," Wallace mumbled, more to himself than to Finn.
Earlier, he had been flying from one side of the lab to the other, cutting up the sample into small cakes of soil and then drying each one out in some kind of microwave before stuffing them into a giant metal cylinder that was currently whirring in the corner. Now, he was pacing around the lab with a coffee, maddeningly stamping his feet as he walked.
"I'm sure we'll find out whatever it did soon enough. Right now, all we can do is wait."
"Alright, and after we wait? You find out how long ago everything went to hell, and then...?"
"We'll see."
"What do you mean, we'll see? You don't even know what to do!"
"Be quiet. It's ready."
There was a beeping sound coming from the cylinder. Finn went to pore over the nonsensical information visible on a monitor nearby while Wallace buried his head in his hands.
Even this agent here was lost, grasping at straws. There was nowhere to run where there were neither black suits nor crab aliens waiting for them. That thing had been there to deliver a message: we are here, we are always here. It had been toying with him.
"Well, I'll be damned. That's it, right there." There was a loud crash.
Wallace looked up to see Finn hysterically laughing. He had pushed the metal cylinder over on its side, and he didn't stop there. For the next few minutes he went rampaging around the lab, tearing everything apart. Wallace could only sit and hope no flying test tubes were aimed at his face. When there was nothing left to dismantle, Finn stood panting amidst the wreckage.
"You know why I left them, Wallace?"
He went on without a response.
"'Atoms for peace'. That's what we called it, as a joke. Everything going fine, until the uppers announced one August morning that they were going to bring about a nuclear rapture by nudging the politicians into striking first. But don't fear, they told us. When the dust settled, we were going to ascend to heaven with our alien overlords. Or something like that. That's why I left, because they had all gone insane."
He looked at Wallace with tears in his eyes.
"They went and did it, Wallace. It said there that it happened the very same year that we left. And they might've been right, about the aliens."
There was a pause. Wallace didn't know what to say. This was the second psychotic meltdown he'd seen in the past couple hours, or a couple million years. This time, his gun was in the locker room with his shed suit. Could he make it there in time, in case things got violent? Finn straightened himself, taking a deep breath.
"You do what you want, Wallace. I'm not making any decisions for you. But I'm going to kill myself. I won't let them have me. I won't-"
A thundering boom rocked the lab. Whatever was still un-smashed came flying through the air. Wallace tucked his arms to his head as he was thrown to the ground. An alarm like an elephant being torn apart rolled through, and the lights turned bright red.
Finn shot straight up.
"The control room, now!" Wallace scrambled to his feet and followed him as he ran through to the elevator, which of course took an eternity to reach the top.
The control room was even more disorienting than it had been. Every single light and screen was a crimson strobe. Wallace couldn't see anything other than Finn's silhouette running up to the control board.
"They found us! They're in the void with us!"
"How?!"
"Their ship is right outside! They just torpedoed our defense systems! We have to ru-"
Another earth-shattering boom. Wallace was flung right into a screen that shattered on impact. When he got up, Finn was desperately clacking the keys.
"Oh shit! They got the primary engine. We might still have just enough for a jump with the secondary- yes! Thank God!"
The great beast roared to life under Wallace, this time with a gut-wrenching clattering noise. The beast was sick, but the elevator motion began again, this time heading downwards.
"Oh please, oh please, oh-" A third boom. This time, the control room lit up with sparks from all sides. Finn flew back and crashed into Wallace. There was a terrible groaning sound. The room tilted slightly on its side, sending them both sliding against the ground. It didn't stop moving.
Wallace braced for another explosion. Nothing came. They kept moving. But something felt wrong. The metal was squealing, the engine below clattering and croaking. Finn stood up and ran back to the control board.
"Oh God... we have to suit up. Get to the locker room!"
Wallace didn't argue. He clambered into the elevator, where he lay against the wall. Finn clambered in close behind and activated it. The doors shut only halfway and the elevator inched along, squeaking all the way. At the bottom, the doors wouldn't budge open, and Finn had to force them open.
"Finn, what's-" Wallace felt it was useless to ask. He could guess what was happening anyway. Finn ran straight for the locker room, not looking back. Wallace hurried to catch up.
The walls were bending around them. The door to the locker room didn't open until Finn kicked it. When they got in, Finn went straight to tearing open a locker. Wallace did the same. The suit he chose was large enough to feel like a whole vehicle around him. He threw it on without any argument. When he had everything but the helmet on, he turned to look at Finn. He was staring vacantly into space with only the bottom half of a suit.
"It's been fun, Wallace. We're going to die now. The best I can give you is a choice of how to go out." His voice was quiet and his face was solemn, looking at nothing.
Wallace looked at him, his face turning pale.
"There was a malfunction. This thing is going to explode any second now. When it does, it'll be pulled through a rift in time and crash-land on the other side."
"But if we go now, we can get out on time. Come on, put your suit on!"
"No, Wallace. There was a malfunction. I sent us thirty billion years into the past. The universe, Wallace, is thirteen billion years old. If we get out there now, we'll cease to exist. There will literally be nothing, not even the cold vacuum of space. So you can either wait here and die in the explosion, or you can go out and instantly die. If you're going with the second, I suggest you hurry up." The machine lurched again, tilting so that the floor was now perfectly vertical. Another explosion rattled the ground, which was now at Wallace's side.
Finn let himself fall with the movement of the machine. His face was blank, his body limp. Wallace grabbed his helmet and jumped through the door. He couldn't sit here and wait to die, even though it was over either way.
The machine tilted to be all the way upside down. He crawled along the ceiling to the pod.
Finn was right. It had been fun, if also terrifying. Much better than anything else that he could've thought to do.
He pulled the lever, or rather pushed it down from his angle. The pod started its process.
He got everything he wanted after all. And dying in an exploding time machine was certainly a way to go.
He regretted nothing.
As he jumped into the portal, he felt bursts of light and heat searing against his back. Through the white void he went.
…
Wallace woke with a start. The sky was very bright, all heaven-like. That seemed wrong to him. If anything, he belonged in the circle of hell reserved for sloth. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that the light had a blood-red tint. The sky was deep crimson, occupied by imposing black clouds. Now that was more accurate. He sat up.
He was surrounded by piles of wreckage. Behind him, the pod was buried upside down, in ground that was also red. Among the fragments, he could make out a locker, some lab equipment, and a few chunks of the control board. Finn's top half was sticking out from underneath one of the control panels. Wallace hurried over as soon as he saw him.
Finn was face up on the ground. His whole face was covered in blood and one arm was snapped in half. He looked up at Wallace with one eye, the other a ruined pit. Some blood bubbled from his mouth.
Wallace looked up, in the direction of the mountains. What he saw was a pillar rising out of the earth, and upon it thousands of spire structures rising into the air, dotted with holes like coral. A city.