Deadly Memory by =joseph-sweet

Deadly Memory

By Joseph Sweet

Brian awoke in a cold sweat. A bright flash in the night, the smell of sulfur; someone had been shot, but who? In a few short seconds, the answers to his very existence had flashed before his eyes, and then vanished just as quickly.

The electric door to his room slid open then, and Victor walked in, a smug look on his face as usual.

The way he acted most of the time, it was as though he thought Brian owed his life to him.

"Bad dream?" he asked.

"Yah," he replied, noticing the nervous raising of Victor's eyebrows, "I dreamed you and me were related."

"Funny." He stated in a dry sarcastic tone, although it was obvious from the look on his face that he wanted to backhand him. There were rules against such a thing, but he often wondered with Victor how much those rules actually meant to him. He seemed like the type to laugh at rules. It might only take a little of extra pushing for this man to snap and do something bad.

"I thought so." Brian mumbled under his breath, shrugging, and wondered what he had ever done to make this man hate him so.

"So, what did you really have a nightmare about?"

"Dreamed I'd been shot."

"Hmm."

"So what's it mean?"

"Doesn't matter." he stated with a fake smile, "It was just a dream, right?"

"Well then, why the hell did you ask?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Hmm, I can't remember the last time I was so sorry."

"Kill the sarcasm; you'll be meeting your mate today."

"What if I don't like her?"

"The computer says you will."

"Who gives a shit what a computer says?" Brian asked, outraged that a machine had decided his fate for him.

Mary walked in at that moment, pushing a tray with his breakfast on it. A disapproving look was pasted across her face, and he had a hard time not responding to it.

"Sorry Mary." he said.

"You'd better curb that language, or I'll take your breakfast back."

"That'd be cruelty to animals." Victor replied with a grin.

"Oh get the hell out of here you prick." Mary shouted, swatting at him with a rolled up paper. Brian had never seen her get so angry so quickly and he stared at her in shock.

Victor ducked her swing and walked out of the room, laughing his little troll laugh. Brian swore the man was evil in some way.

"My language?" Brian scolded her, and then smiled.

"Aint much of a role model am I?" she said.

"You're the best."

She sat on the side of his bed then, a serious look passing over her. She actually seemed to care so much for him. And she was the closest thing to a mother he'd had. That thought led him to thoughts of his own mother and the conflicting stories of what he'd been told and what his subconscious seemed to be suggesting in the dreams he had each night.

He wanted in that instant to hug her and cry, but he was too old for that.

"You still havin' those dreams?"

A cold chill moved slowly up his spine.

"Yeah."

"Don't you go telling him or anyone else about 'em, you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I didn't say this, and you just remember that. But if you tell them, you'll be in danger. Don't you forget it."

"But, why?"

"Just trust me."

If he'd known his mother, he'd have imagined her to be like Mary. She seemed to genuinely care about him. There was a fear just below the surface of her smile, however, which scared him. She knew something horrible. Some truth she didn't dare admit, even to herself. She'd never tell him what it was, and he was pretty sure that if he did know, he wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone else about it.

At times he figured that he was just paranoid. But if he'd known how real that danger was, maybe he'd have run sooner.

There were dreams he hadn't told Victor about. Dreams so bizarre he tried not to think about them, and they were coming more frequently now.

"So why do you hate him so much?" he asked, mainly to change the subject of his thoughts. "I mean, other than the fact that he's a jerk."

She gave him the strangest look then. "He's a bad man. You remember that. And that's all you need to know."

George stepped out onto the street. This was one of the last cities. As impossible as it would seem, he remembered how it was here six hundred years before the war. He remembered it as though he were there yesterday, because in his memories he had been.

They were watching him. He was being considered for code red clearance, and for that they needed to trust him completely. If they knew the memories he had, more of which were surfacing each day, or of the dreams each night of a time and place in which he could not have been, he'd be dead.

It was more than just past life memories, though. He was not a natural part of this time, and he knew this with a growing certainty. As strange as the thought seemed, he'd been brought here from his true time. There was no way to explain it yet.

But when he had clearance, he'd figure it out. With access to the database and top clearance for the current project, he'd find out what was going on.

And then there was Brian. He was a key to figuring this out as well. Not only because he was part of the memories, but because the two of them were a part of the council's plans.

"George." Frank shouted from across the courtyard. George turned to see him waving his hands by the entrance.

He picked up his pace. "Hey," he said, trying not to sound nervous. "What's up?"

"Krieger sent me out here to give you your new card."

"Already?" he asked in disbelief. Surely it couldn't have been that easy. He would have to keep his eyes opened in case this was some sort of test.

"Yup." With that Frank handed him a red plastic card with a hologram of his face and a magnetic strip.

"Well that was easy." he said, "I thought they'd make me take a few hundred tests or something."

"Apparently not. Now I on the other hand, had to take at least a dozen tests, and two years of classes. But then again, I'm not a clone."

"I was going to ask, but I was kind of afraid to. Just who am I a clone of?"

"Ah ah Georgy, them's the kind of questions'll get that card taken back."

"What would it hurt for me to know who the blood donor was?" George asked, unable to keep quiet about it any longer. He needed to know and it looked as though this man might just be willing to share the info.

"Well I guess it wouldn't, but you be sure you don't let any of the kids know they were cloned."

"Yeah I remember, but what's the difference between them and me?"

"You mean why did we tell you that you were a clone, and not them?"

"Exactly."

"Because your aging was accelerated and theirs wasn't."

"So you're saying that it's easier for an adult to accept such a thing, than for a child. Even if they were born at the same time?"

"Listen, George. I'm only going to say this once. Questioning the council isn't smart. They're paranoid. And if they think for an instant that they can't trust you, your life would be in danger. After the first group of clones, you can't blame them."

"I thought we were the first batch. What are you talking about?" he asked, concern obvious in his voice.

"I thought you knew." A mixed look of embarrassment and fear passed over him. His eyes darted back and forth across the street, and he quickly scanned the surrounding area to make sure no one was close enough to hear what he was about to say.

"No."

"Jesus." The look was panic now.

"What?"

"I guess I have to tell you now. But if you tell anyone, they could make me disappear."

"I won't tell a soul." George told him.

"Okay. The first clones remembered the lives of the blood donors."

"And that's catastrophic why?"

"You don't understand. They were starting to remember both lives; this one and the life of the person who was cloned. With each day the memories of the past life became more and more vivid, until the two realities were inseparable in their minds and it was too much for them to handle. They went insane."

"What did they do with them?"

"They were terminated."

"I hope you mean pink slips." George stated, a cold terror washing over him just then.

"No, I mean gassed."

"Jesus. Well how did they fix the problem this time?"

Frank just looked at him. "I don't know." There was a look of fear so strong George wanted to hug him, but figured he wouldn't exactly take it the right way.

"And," he added, "I don't ask!"

III

Brian stepped into the huge plastic cylinder for his daily testing.

"That's it," Victor said, the grin on his face making him more and more nervous by the minute.

Suddenly he was in a much bigger room, with a lot more kids. He looked around at them in a daze. All of them looked scared.

The room was filled suddenly with a hissing sound.

Everyone began choking, including him.

He could feel consciousness slipping away, as he fought frantically to find air which simply wasn't there anymore.

Suddenly he was back in the small tank. He'd fallen to his knees without knowing it.

Victor was already standing in front of the cylinder, waiting for it to open. He was holding a gun.

"What's that for?" Brian asked, as the tube opened.

"What happened just then?" Victor demanded to know.

"I don't know," he lied, "Everything just went white."

For the next hour, he sat in the same room. Twice the tests had been done on him than had been scheduled. What, he wondered, would it hurt to tell them what I saw? He was about ready to say whatever they wanted to hear if they would just let him out of here.

Across the room, Victor was arguing with a man Brian had never seen before. His words were just loud enough for him to catch something he didn't like.

"It's happening again."

"Stay calm," said the other man, "In the last one, it happened at least two months before this."

"He knows."

"The donor had seizures. And based on the original documents we had on him, they didn't always show in tests."

"This wasn't a seizure."

"That is your opinion mister Caldwell, and I do suggest that you keep it to yourself. Now go tend to the boy."

Brian closed his eyes so they would think he'd fallen asleep on the table.

He could feel victor watching him from only a few feet away.

"Hey, shit head."

Brian opened his eyes, and looked around, doing a pretty convincing job of acting as though he'd just been awakened.

"The doctors say you're okay, so get dressed and get outta here, and make sure you're ready after dinner."

Brian frowned at this. He knew what it was that he needed to be ready for, and he wasn't all that interested.

They were going to introduce him to his mate.

There was no reason to talk about it. They were going to make him do it, and he knew that he had no say in the matter.

"Oh yah." Victor added, as he neared the door.

"What?"

"Your fag buddy is here too."

"George?" he asked, ignoring the insult toward his friend.

"Yah. Just make sure you're back in time for dinner."

George looked to be in an especially good mood today.

"Hay there Bry," he started, "Wanna get outta this place for a while?"

"Hell yah!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. In fact, he wanted nothing more at the moment. Why had Victor pulled a gun on him? What in the hell had that been about? He's a very bad man, Mary's words repeated in his head from earlier, and he shivered as a chill moved violently through him.

A few minutes later they were driving.

"So, where're we goin?"

"Sackets Harbor."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Why there?" From what he'd been taught about that place, it was abandoned and falling apart. Still, in class he had felt drawn to the pictures of old dilapidated buildings somehow.

"Well, I figured it would be quiet, and we could just hang out. Maybe go fishing."

"Wow." They'd been taught about fish, but as far as he knew, there were no living ones in Lake Ontario. Just the same, though, it might be fun to try.

"I brought dinner too."

"Victor said I'd have to be back by dinner time." He said in a dead, heartbroken voice. Surely they weren't going to let him out of dinner today. Not when they had a computer assigned mate waiting for him. A mate, he thought, They're actually going to make me marry some stranger. The thought made him feel as though he were going to throw up.

"Well Victor probably didn't know that I got permission from higher up to let you have dinner out there with me." He stated with a sort of self satisfaction, but there was something else going on here. Brian could see it in his eyes.

George reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device with a wand on the end, and began to hold it out over Brian's chest.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell you in a minute."

He moved it down toward his shoes, and back up over his body again.

With a satisfied grin, he put the device back in his pocket.

"What was that?"

"I was just making sure you didn't have a bug on you."

"A bug?"

"A listening device."

"Who would be listening?"

"Someone who didn't want me to tell you the truth."

"About what?"

"Those dreams you've been having."

Brian was stunned into silence at that. How did George know about the dreams? Of all of the kids back at the facility, he hadn't really made any friends. George was all he had, and he wanted to trust him. He half wanted to tell him all about the nightmares, but Mary's words were still haunting him, so he kept quiet.

"You'll understand when we get out to Sackets." George continued.

They drove in silence after that.

They drove through the empty little town quietly, all the while chills moving through Brian's body; he knew this place, and it wasn't just a feeling of having visited once before, but one of having lived and grown to adult-hood here.

The knowledge that he was only seventeen did enter his mind, but he had been tempted to find a mirror a couple times. Just when he thought he was going to ask George to turn around and take him back, they pulled onto Main Street.

He was silenced then by the utter desolation of the place. It was as though he'd been here earlier today and the place had gone to hell in only a few hours.

Then they were stopping.

"Do you remember this place?" George asked him.

"Oh my God." He breathed, rocked by a sudden sensation of déjà vu so strong that he nearly began shaking.

He was stepping out of the car without fully realizing it.

They had come here together as friends, to eat and enjoy the summer day.

"I've wanted to come back here for a couple years now." George stated.

"We had fun that day."

"So you remember?"

"How?" he asked, unable to get more than that one word out at the moment.

"Well you were about ten years older. And I was a few years older myself, but we were here about six hundred years ago."

"Was it a past life?"

"Now you see, that's an interesting question. I know for a fact that none of your classes, or anything they've exposed you to, has had anything to do with reincarnation... Yet you know what it is."

"Because I knew then."

"Precisely, but it isn't reincarnation."

"What then?"

"It's better if we go inside." With that he walked around the car to the back passenger seat and retrieved their lunch.

Once inside, in near complete darkness, George fished out a flash-light and made his way to a fuse box. A few seconds later they had electricity. "Before you ask, I wired this place up weeks ago."

"Nice."

They headed down the long ramp, toward where he knew the bar would be, and George cautiously pushed open a door that had once been made almost entirely of glass.

Off to the left, he could just make out the kitchen through a door-less walkway as they rounded the corner and turned right onto the dock.

Sitting there, overlooking the water, where George had setup a table for them, the conversation continued.

"So," began Brian, "what is it?"

"What?"

"You said it wasn't reincarnation, so what is it?"

"Cloning."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"So who am I a clone of?"

While Brian and George were driving to Sackets Harbor, Victor was talking to the head of the council, Francis Meadows.

"Look, I'm not questioning your judgment, but I don't think it was a good idea."

"What could it hurt to let them have a nice quiet day?"she asked.

"That's where he grew up, that's what it could hurt."

"Exactly."

"Okay, I'm lost." The slight British accent he spoke with grew thicker by the second as he tried to conceal his anger.

"Look at it this way. You remember what happened to the last batch. We showed them things that would have been familiar to their previous selves."

"Yah, and it drove them over the edge."

"Yes, and what better test than to let them both be confronted with a place that would be more than familiar to their donors?"

"And see how they react."

"Correct. Why wait for them to flip out? Why not push them to it, if it's going to happen? Save ourselves the trouble later on. We only need them to be fine until we have a second generation. After that, they don't matter."

When Victor only stared in admiration, perhaps feeling a slight bit foolish, she continued, "And, if you've finished questioning my judgment, I'd like you to prepare things for his mate."

VII

Halfway through their conversation, Brian turned to his side, and saw people. They sat at tables, eating their meals as though the restaurant were back in business. To his left, in the water; ducks were swimming around, waiting for food from the dining tourists, as though most birds hadn't been wiped out of existence hundreds of years ago.

"Brian."

He turned back to George, startled, and everything was back the way it had been. The same abandoned restaurant, in a town empty of life.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"Thought I lost you there for a second."

"I thought I saw people... And Ducks."

"You're going to have to be careful of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Keep it under control. Remind yourself what's real. And most of all, don't let anyone back home know about it."

"But, why?" he asked, afraid for the first time today, remembering the fear he'd seen in Mary's eyes.

"There was another batch of clones before us."

"They gassed them, didn't they?" he asked, his eyes dropping to the table, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Yah, how'd you know?"

"I saw it, like I was there."

"Like you saw the people and the ducks."

"Yup."

"I'd like to drive you around." George said suddenly, "Show you some more things."

"Okay." he said greedily, eager to change the subject.

VIII

Victor Cycled the machine up, supposedly for a test run. He'd done this about a hundred times. The council had no idea what he was really doing. He had an hour in here and he always programmed the machine to bring him back at a point before that time was up. Besides, if anyone ever came in looking for him, they would assume he'd either stepped out for a few minutes or finished up for the night and forgot to turn off the lights.

After the first clones had been terminated, he'd been given the go ahead to re-collect the blood samples and then go back in time and eliminate the host's parents before they'd been born. He was given as much time to do it as it took him, but they wouldn't take no for an answer.

This, the council thought, would eliminate the memories in the next set of subjects, because they would have no alternate life to remember. This ended up creating an alternate reality, where the subjects had never been born. The blood samples, however, still existed somehow. They had no explanation for this, other than the possibility that the other timeline where they had been collected, still existed somewhere.

Victor had grown to like the murders. There were no consequences. Even if he did get arrested, he could merrily go along with the police; and when the timer went off back here, he'd be pulled back.

"Two hours should be enough." he said, programming the machine to bring him back after forty five minutes had passed in this timeline. He stood in the center of the eight foot ring." There was a crackle of energy, a tingling sensation and then cold dark nothing for a few seconds; and then he was there, shivering. His clothing stuck to his sweat-drenched body.

He reached for his gun, caressed it with his left hand, his baby.

"Shit!" Brian said, "I used to live here. In-fact at the age I am now, I would have still lived here with my parents."

"Don't you find that odd? That you remember it as though it's all happened before rather than remember it as it would be happening."

"You mean, as if I was this age in both times, and the future hadn't happened yet in either one?"

"Something like that. The guy I talked to said that was how the first clones remembered; as though it were still happening in both time-lines and they were experiencing each day from two perspectives."

"Why do you think we're different?"

"That's the part that scares me, and I try not to think about it."

"You think they went back and did something to silence the memories?"

"That would seem the most likely answer." he said, semming suddenly depressed.

"But if they went back and killed us, wouldn't that kill the memories?" he asked, "I mean, if there was suddenly no other life to remember, why do we remember it all here and now?"

"I don't know."

"The whole thing is so frustrating."

"Maybe that's one of the things that bothers Victor about you."

"What?"

"You don't sound like a seventeen year old, going on eighteen tomorrow."

"I don't think I did the first time around either."

Victor closed in on the man in the parking lot. He was about to kill Brian's father for the fifth time, when he had an idea.

Four times, he had killed the man. Four times, he'd done it a different way. But this time, he was going to let him live.

As long as he'd killed the man, things would not have changed. What he'd found was that when he went back to the exact moment he'd been in before, he ceased to be there as his previous self. So it was just one Victor, and he was able to live the whole thing over and over again as many times as he liked.

Today, he decided, he would play before he killed him.Given that both Brian and his woman's parents had been killed in just minutes from each other as they had frequented the same bar, he'd kill two birds with one stone if he just walked away.

Brian stopped, eyes going wide. His heart was pounding. Something was wrong. They were walking across Madison Barracks now. An abandoned military base, which in Brian's time, had been rebuilt with military and civilian housing, restaurants, and some tourist attractions.

George stopped then. "Brian?"

"S … Something's wrong." He managed before the world around him began to spin out of control and go white.

"You don't look good at all." He heard George saying from what seemed to be light years away.

The year is two thousand and four and you are living in Watertown, New York. his mind told him. Then, just as quickly, It's twenty six forty five, and you live at the North Country Research Foundation Community.

"Help." He said weakly, as his knees started to buckle and every muscle in his body seemed to give out at the same time, but he doubted his voice had been loud enough to hear.

Everything went completely grey then.

Victor had gone next to July Fifteenth 2004. In minutes he would be closing in on Brian. Here he would be 28.

He watched as Brian closed in on his apartment building.

Letting him live would probably drive him nuts, but as far as the council would know, he was never born in this timeline.

"Hey, Brian." he shouted across the street.

Brian turned to face him, and was there a look of recognition? Fear, perhaps? He wondered then if it was affecting them in both timelines.

"What's wrong?" he asked, when he just stared at him.

"Do I know you?" he asked.

"Yah," he stated simply, reaching behind his back, "It's me, Victor."

George crouched over Brian's unconscious body.

His eyes opened suddenly, but he seemed to be in a trance, looking beyond everything here. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"Brian." George said, attempting to get his attention.

"Victor?" he asked, and seemed, despite his dazed state, to suddenly be afraid.

"No, it's me, George." he tried to comfort him.

Victor took his chance, while Brian seemed dazed; pulling the gun from the back of his pants, and put a bullet in his chest.

He only gave a startled gasp. Probably - Victor imagined - all he was capable of just then, and dropped.

Victor watched as the pool of blood formed beneath him for a few seconds, and then stooped down and grabbed his keys, which he'd been holding in his hands the whole time.

"There, you smart-ass, little shit!" he whispered.

"He shot me George." he wheezed, blood gurgling in his throat and trickling from his mouth, his eyes rolling up in his head.

This, Victor had not planned for, and he almost fell backward.

In this time-line, there was no George Castile.

He had been removed from existence.

He shot me George. A shiver slid down his spine.

He walked slowly to the house, knowing that he had plenty of time, and walked straight to the apartment on the third floor.

Here he collected a couple of souvenirs. One of which was an acoustic-electric guitar. This, he thought, will push him over the edge.

He played a little in the future, but seeing his guitar from a life that he never should have had... Now that would be fun to watch.

A smile slowly slid across Victor's face. With any luck, he'd get to be the one to terminate the fucker when he lost his little mind.

Brian looked pale.

"He shot me George," he wheezed, sounding as though he were having trouble breathing.

And then he just sat up straight.

"I'm dead." he said.

"No, you're alive," George stated firmly, concern in his voice. "You're in Twenty Six Forty Five. Look at me. It's George."

"George," he said, with what seemed like relief, "I knew I didn't just dream you."

"Brian, wake up." he shouted, shaking him now.

"Can't bro." he stated simply, "They want me now."

"Who wants you?" he asked, tears welling in his eyes.

"I don't know who they are. There's so much light, and they're calling for me."

"Jesus." he said. What could he say to this? Don't go into the light?

Now Victor was back in the parking lot in 1975 with a guitar strapped to his back. He pistol whipped the man from behind this time, and as he fell forward he picked up his keys; a strong feeling of déjà vu came over him.

In a minute, he had the man on the back seat of his own car, and strangled the remaining life out of him.

He had fifteen minutes left.

It was time to have some fun. Sylvia was her name. And she was in the bar bathroom, freshening up so she could look her best.

No one noticed victor walking into the restroom.

None but Sylvia.

This was the second time he'd done this. He had taken her from behind, over the sink last time.

This time he told her to get on the floor.

As before, she told him he didn't need the gun, but as before, he held it to her head until he came in her, but instead of killing her this time, he let her live.

He looked at his watch for a moment, pulled her to a standing position.

"Want to see the eighth wonder of the world?"

She shook her head no.

Victor grabbed a fist-full of her hair, and pulled her over to one of the stalls; putting the gun away, and grabbing the guitar with his other hand, which he'd leaned against the wall.

She began to fight him now, thinking he was going to shoot her.

He turned her to him and smiled, as a look of horror spread across her face, and then he let go of her, and everything brightened. He was back in the lab.

He was half tempted to go back and do it again, but decided against it. As it was, he had to fix a few things. Going back to a moment in time in which he had already been, erased all that he had done there the first time. This meant that he hadn't killed a few other donors this time so he had to go back again and get the parents of Brian's girlfriend as well.

Brian sat bolt upright.

"You okay now?" George asked.

"I don't think so." Of course you're not alright, he thought suddenly, You're dead …

Am not he immediately argued.

"Hey, Brian. You still with me?"

"I think I know how they solved the dual memory problem."

Victor placed the guitar on Brian's bed, complete with a tag that said, "From Victor." If anyone asked why he had given it to him, he could simply say it was a wedding gift.

Just then, Veronica walked in.

"Have you seen Brian?"

"Umm," he blurted, at a complete loss now, "He'll be back in a little while."

She seemed unnerved suddenly, as though she might have seen something in his eyes that frightened her.

And very well, she should have, he thought just then.

Victor walked out quickly, without another word.

He had been tempted just then, and that wasn't good.

He had wanted her. Had wanted to do with her, what he'd done with women on his travels in time. Only thing was that he couldn't reset things here. The machines would record temporal anomalies and the council would know. As it was, he was lucky they didn't notice his returns from the past.

He was getting too used to being a god.

"Brian. Tell me what's going on." George pleaded.

"I think they killed us."

"What?"

"Yah, they killed us before we were old enough to know what had happened, so we would have no memories. But that wasn't enough for him."

"For who?" George asked, "You're talking crazy."

"He changes things. He goes back and plays."

George grabbed him this time and forced him to face him. "Who?"

"Victor." He grinned then, and something in Brian's eyes seemed to unnerve his friend a bit. "He just killed me again. Only this time, he waited till I was older, maybe just to get back at me."

George had cold chills just then so strong that he shook noticeably, as a revelation hit him. "Or to try and push you over the edge."

"But why?" Brian asked, intrigued and frightened at the same time.

"The last group of clones were terminated because they remembered and it drove them insane."

"Do you think he hates me that much?"

"I don't know. But no matter what happens, you have to make sure he doesn't find out that you know about it."

"But he won't stop, will he?"

"I don't know." he admitted, "Maybe if he doesn't think it's working."

Brian walked into his room a few hours later, to find Veronica sitting on his bed with a Light tan colored acoustic-electric guitar in her hands.

His eyes instantly sought out and found a dent in the wood, at the bottom front of the instrument. It had happened when the strap lock broke on stage and he'd dropped it in another life.

The room started to spin and he had to grab the casing to keep from falling.

"Are you okay?" he heard Veronica ask from far away.

Taking slow, deep breaths he managed to right himself again, and walked to her. "I'm okay. Just tired."

"I'm Veronica," she said, smiling.

I know, he thought, but said, "Brian." and shook her hand.

Things were starting to make more sense than he wanted them to. Not only had they cloned him, but they had cloned all those who'd been close to him as well.

He picked up the guitar. An electrical current moved through his hands and up his arms, then surged through him, and he fought the urge to throw the instrument down.

He sat on the bed without thinking then, and started playing a song. One he had written in that other world, at the age of twenty two or so.

Veronica seemed a slight bit dazed, and took a couple of steps backward.

"Everything okay?" he asked her, setting the guitar on the bed. He'd written the song for her, and it seemed she was remembering.

She looked a bit confused as he neared her, and without thinking about it, he took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. It was one of many kisses in his life, and his first at the same time. Something about that made it even more magical.

"How?" she asked.

"Just don't tell anyone." he said, holding her tight.

"So, you two are getting along well, I see." Victor said from the doorway. The look in his eyes was impossible to miss. He expected something. The guitar had been a part of his little game, and he'd wanted it to push Brian over the edge.

"Yes we are," Brian answered. "But you're quite the little perv now aren't you?"

"Wha …" Victor began, startled for perhaps the first time that Brian had ever seen.

"Is that how you get your kicks? Watching kids make out?" Brian continued. He knew he needed to somehow get control of his anger, but he couldn't help it. In his head, he could see this man crossing the street... pulling a gun. It's me, Victor, he'd said right before pulling the trigger.

"Bry don't" Veronica interrupted.

"Oh, Bry is it?" Victor laughed. "She's got a nickname for you already. Why you'd think you were married.

Brian flashed to a marriage in his head, but brushed it off, and was able to keep his composure.

Veronica was not.

Victor noticed her reaction right away. "Well, now. Looks like all isn't right here after all." he said snidely and began walking into the room.

Brian didn't have time to think about what he was doing. He reached out quickly and grabbed a large, heavy wooden chair, lifted it above his head.

"What's wrong honey?" Victor asked, closing in on Veronica.

Brian brought the chair down hard into Victor's head, Lifted it again as he dropped to the floor, brought it down once more.

"Oh God!" Veronica exclaimed, looking as though she were going to be sick.

Brian quickly took the man's clearance card from a retractable clip on his belt, and removed a gun from the back of his pants, where he'd seen it on a few occasions.

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked.

XII

George had just entered the building and was about to go see Brian when the alarm went off.

A short ways ahead, Brian rounded the corner with a gun, and was telling a security guard to drop his weapon and back off.

The guard wasn't going to do it, though, and George knew it. He had his gun trained on Brian.

George slowly closed the distance, carefully removing a fire extinguisher from the wall, and bashed the guard in the head with it.

He managed to squeeze off a shot as he went down, but luckily it missed.

George took off the man's belt, tying his hands together and to his legs, and pulled him into a supply closet.

"How do we get out of here?" Brian asked.

"We don't."

"What?"

"I found the time machine."

A few minutes later, with the alarms still going off around them, they stood in the time displacement chamber.

George ran to a console and typed something for a few seconds, and a large circular platform in the center of the room lit up.

He then walked over to them with two watches. "Put these on."

"What are they?"

"They're what's going to take you where you're going, but they'll also allow you to move through the time stream once you get there."

"What about you?"

"Right behind you."

Veronica hadn't said anything this whole time, and Brian was beginning to worry about her. "You okay?"

She nodded, "I guess I have to be."

Just then a guard burst into the room, and opened fire.

George pushed them into the center of the platform, and seconds later they were standing in a parking lot.

Veronica took hold of his arm, and the full weight of her almost knocked him over.

She said nothing, only looked at him, startled, and obviously in pain.

He took her in his arms, crouched down, noticing now the blood coming from her stomach.

She'd been shot before they could make it through. "I'll call 911." He assured her, but she was already slipping.

Rage filled him then, but there was nowhere to direct it.

She was gone a few seconds later.

He knew now that the emptiness he'd felt practically from birth, was just the feeling of being without her. Even though he hadn't realized it till now, he'd just been missing her from the other life.

And now he'd been given another chance with her, and he'd screwed it up.

No. he thought. He did.

As if on cue, a brief flicker of light marked the arrival of another traveler just a few yards away.

One who had been here many times.

Victor was so sure of his surroundings that he didn't even hear Brian approaching.

At the last second, he started to turn.

Brian Pistol whipped him in the face as he turned. Victor went down fast.

He took his gun, and pushed the other one right into his face.

"How did you …"

"Shut up!" Brian screamed.

He held up a hand then. It still had fresh blood on it from Veronica.

"Know what this is?"

"They're going to erase you."

"This is her blood." With that he smeared it on Victor's face. "You like that ass hole?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Well," Brian said, fighting the urge to beat the man's face with the handgun until it was nothing but mush. "You took everything from me. It's only fair that I return the favor."

"Wait."

Brian smiled and pulled the trigger. His stomach threatened to turn, but he didn't throw up. He, however, hadn't anticipated how loud the sound of the gun would be.

Placing Victor's gun in the front waste of his jeans, he wiped his off, put it in Victor's hand.

"Hey!" some guy yelled from across the parking lot, closing on his position. "What's going on?"

Brian turned to face his father.

"This guy shot a woman and then himself. Call 911."

"Call what?"

"The cops." he said, realizing now that 911 probably didn't exist yet.

While the man was running toward the bar on the other side of the parking lot, he removed the watch from Victor's wrist and the one from Veronica, and placed them in his pocket. He then kissed veronica on the lips and pressed the button on the side of his watch.

It displayed a date and time. He adjusted it to read July fifteenth 2004.

Before he could press the button again though, a sharp pain tore through his skull.

He dropped to his knees, fighting the voices that threatened to drive him insane.

His mind argued that he was seventeen years old and living in Sackets Harbor, NY, and immediately yelled back that he was full of shit, attempting to iron out which reality was real. Except that they both were, and therein lied the problem.

He lifted the watch, needing something to happen … Anything.

He pressed the button.

The voices stopped as he arrived on the sidewalk across from his other self's apartment building.

XIII

George held off the guards as long as he could. He'd killed two of them already.

He just needed a couple more minutes. Hopefully Brian and Veronica did what they needed to do and were done.

This would trap them wherever they were.

The door blew inward then with great force and he found himself thrown to the ground.

Four guards rushed in just then and shot him before he could get to his feet.

He died knowing that he had at least removed the information on where the two had gone from the computer. It wouldn't take them long, however, to track the watches and go to their location.

One of the guards moved quickly to the console, immediately noticing the bomb George had placed there.

They carefully removed it from the room, but as they reached the hallway, it went off.

If George had still been alive he would have been smiling.

The bomb was not only there to destroy the machine. It was a nice little toy he'd picked up from the lab which would release a virus into the air; a very fast acting one that would kill everything for miles.

XIV

Brian had made it to his apartment building minutes ago. The voices had blissfully silenced. He waited across the street to see himself get home to ensure that he'd done well.

Otherwise Victor might show to kill him again. After a half hour, however, he realized that he wasn't going to see himself. If Victor was able to keep going to the same moment and killing the same people, then it must only be possible for one version of you to exist at the same instance in one timeline.

As this thought occurred to him, he realized why it was that he no longer heard the voices. Here, in this time, he was the only version of himself that existed. There was no conflict. Unless, of-course, he attempted to think of the past seventeen years. Then there were arguments, but those were ones he could handle. He looked down at his hands then, and realized that they had grown a slight bit.

He walked to the apartment building and looked at his reflection in the glass of the front door.

"Amazing." he remarked.

He had grown to the age his other self was in this time. He looked at his watch then to see how much time he had, and realized that the numbers were changing rapidly.

Something was wrong.

He wasn't ready to be stuck here yet. As much as he wanted to run into the house and see if Veronica was there, he had other things to think of, and maybe only moments to do something.

He watched the dates cycle rapidly until he saw one close to where he had come from in the future and he quickly pressed the button on the side of the watch. As he did though, the screen scrambled, and he only had a split second to panic before everything went white.

An instant later he was in the time displacement chamber.

Part of the building had collapsed and it appeared that he wouldn't be able to make it out of the room.

The machine looked to be intact, but there was no electricity.

The room was fairly well lit, despite the lack of power, as a section of the ceiling was missing and light from outside was pouring in.

The voices in his head started arguing immediately, but it was somewhat bearable. It was obvious now why the first group of kids had gone insane. What could he do though? Go back and kill his father again?

"Not an option." he told himself, when he realized that he had actually considered it for a moment. The only option was to go back and take over the life which had been stolen from him.

It was then that he realized the watch on his wrist was dead.

"Great."

He noticed a skeleton behind the desk on the floor then.

A few seconds later he had George's badge in his hand.

How was it possible that the body had been left here for so long?

Fifteen minutes later however, he had the answer to that.

Standing on the roof of the building, Brian could see for quite some distance.

There were bodies everywhere.

The whole colony looked to be dead.

"Did you do this George?"

All of these people were dead. Maybe they deserved it, but what of the clones? He guessed they couldn't have saved them all, and maybe this was the humane way to have handled it. Deep down, he wished there had been some other way.

"How was work?" Veronica asked.

"Oh not bad." he replied, and walked over to give her a kiss. "I missed you though."

Just as he leaned in, their lips almost pressed together, he snapped back just in time to keep from falling to his death from the roof.

"Jesus."

Something had to happen, and quick, or he was going to lose his mind.

It had taken four hours to get power back up and running. Now that it was, he wasn't going to waste any time.

He had returned to the time displacement chamber and reprogrammed the machine to take him back in 30 seconds.

He thought about it for a few seconds, and wondered if he would be stealing his other self's life? What were the moral implications? His mind moved to Veronica then and he didn't care. It was his life damn it.

He thought of going back to the point in that timeline where he was seventeen, but he didn't want to live that part of his other life again. He remembered it well enough to know that.

As the final three seconds ticked by, Brian lit a stick of dynamite that he'd found while hunting around for power sources, and tossed it just before the machine relocated him.

The coordinates were still set to the hallway outside his apartment so that's where it took him.

As he arrived, the voice in his head stopped and his watch went dead.

Just then he thought he smelled smoke, and began to turn around as everything went white. It felt suddenly as though his body had been ripped apart, and just when he thought it would drive him insane, he was blessed by darkness.

Brian awoke in a hospital bed.

He'd had one hell of a dream, but he couldn't remember what it was.

"Hey." Veronica said from a chair at his bedside.

"What happened?"

"You had a Seizure. The doctor said you'd be fine."

Brian only remembered a little bit of what had happened right before, but recent memories that he did have were confusing. It was like he was having a dual memory of the past. What he knew to be real, this reality, and what he knew had to be part of a dream.

"What's wrong?" Veronica asked noticing his quiet and perhaps the confused look on his face.

"Oh, nothing. You ever have one of those dreams, where it seems when you wake up that you lived a whole other lifetime in there."

"Once or twice."

"I think that's all it was."

With the memory of this life feeling more and more solid by the moment, Brian was passing the future reality off as a lingering bad dream, and thinking about writing it down when he got home.

Then as they checked out, he was given his personal items in a bag.

He only needed to peek in once.

When he saw the watch, the whole thing came back to him in a flash and he knew that it had been real. He also knew, however, that he would likely soon forget if he let himself and he chose to do just that.