Just Plain Weird (40 page)

    
    
“I can’t take it,” she cried breathlessly. “I can’t take it. I can’t take it….”

    
    
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” I said. I tried to shove her leg off my shoulder, but she held it stubbornly in place. When I tried to stand, she reached up from behind and grabbed me round my neck. All of a sudden, I found myself in a wrestling match with her, and she was honest about what she had once told me: she was a lot stronger than she appeared. Finally, I started to lean over to the left, we both ended up lying on the floor, and it was a downright miracle that I didn’t break her left leg, what with the way it had been positioned.

    
    
“Eliza, snap out of it,” I told her.

    
    
She was now flat on the floor, and I was kneeling over her, and holding her wrists pinned to the cool tiles. She was still laughing, but now only half-heartedly. Then she stared up at me, suddenly serious.

    
    
“Travis,” she said with mock grimness, “I told you we can’t do this. My father’s standing behind you right now.”

    
    
I knew if I turned round, no one would be there and she would start laughing again.

    
    
“Yeah, right,” I said.

    
    
“No, really,” she insisted, and started to laugh uneasily.

    
    
“Travis?” It was Doc. He actually was behind me, of course. Although he didn’t sound mad or anything, my stomach dropped about a mile. I felt like a thief caught looking through someone’s wallet. I let go of Eliza’s wrist, and looked up. Doc was standing there wagging his head and pursing his lips in a way that I’d come to find very annoying.

    
    
Eliza pushed herself up and sat on the floor. She had her hand to her forehead as if she didn’t feel well.

    
    
“You okay?” I asked.

    
    
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” she said, and smiled through her discomfort.

    
    
“Don’t you think it’s about time to talk to the artifact,” Doc said. He was not in the mood for nonsense. I had the distinct impression he wanted everything ended, once and for all. Maybe he didn’t like what he’d seen, or didn’t like where things had been going between Eliza and me, and wanted that ended, too. It was hard to tell. I didn’t believe that the mere fact that Eliza and I had grown close-- he did not even suspect how close-- troubled him so much as the circumstances under which our friendship was flourishing. There was a time and a place for everything, and it was clear to see he didn’t believe the here and now was right for young love.

    
    
“Yeah, it’s about that time,” I said, and Eliza nervously chimed in her agreement.

    
    
I sat before the keyboard and typed:

Hello?

Hello, Travis.

    
    
It was the first time the artifact had called me by name. It felt strange. In one way, it felt even more so that the artifact was much more than a mere machine. In another way, I was very much like being addressed by a coffee pot.

    
    
I glanced up at Doc, who was standing over me like a stern schoolmarm, and he was frowning. Nothing would convince him that the artifact was anything more than a bucket of bolts, and the fact that the artifact was now addressing me in such a familiar way must have really irked him.

Have you finished building your communication matrix?

Yes. I wanted to be certain that anything I told you was being understood correctly. There is little margin for error.

Is it possible for us to go back where we belong?

Yes, it is possible for you.

And you?

It is impossible.

Why?

There is no possible scenario that allows me to return to my planet or builders.

Why?

Time can be peeled back only so far. Haven’t you read the formula?

I read it, but did not understand.

Is it because of that three percent brain issue?

Probably.

I see…. I will try to explain…. As I have said, time is like an onion. You can peel it back only so far. The more you peel it back, the smaller it becomes.

Which means what exactly?

You can go back into time only so far, and with increasing limitations as far as spatial coordinates. Everything that occurred to my home planet occurred too long ago. The furthest I can go back into time would be about 2200 of your years, and even then, I would be limited to an area of space very, very far away from my home planet. There is no way for me to return to a time early enough to warn my builders of the coming of the invaders. The past, beyond a certain point, is unreachable. This is what we recognize as history. We define history differently than humans; history, for us, is a time that has past and is no long reachable, while humans define history as simply a time that has past.

Then where will you go, if there is nowhere left to you?

I have conceived a practical plan that includes my disposition. First you, as pilot, must remain within this structure. The others must go outside. The part of this structure which is me-- you might call it the ‘projection’ or ‘shadow’-- must physically reintegrate with the actual ship, which is also me, which is stationary in space 1.43678 light-years away. Then you must pilot the ship back here; assume a brief orbit around earth-- high enough so that earth radar systems cannot detect it. At that time, I will peeled back time to a moment before your last attempt to make everything right, before I returned from that time, and you will physically disembark. For you it will not be a perfect return to the timeline; there may be a slight paradoxical effect-- nothing dramatic, but just minor inconsistencies. Mostly likely, what will occur will be what you might call ‘missing time.”
 
It will not be the common meaning of that term, in which you cannot remember a short period of time, but rather those who are close to you will not know where you have been for a brief period of time…. Before you leave the ship, you will order me to land of the dark side of your moon-- this rather than the original order to return to my home planet. If I never return there, the invaders can never follow me back here. Earth will be safe, then. This is the most reasonable plan of action.

I don’t understand this part about you landing on the moon.

Since I have nowhere to go, and since I cannot stay here-- where I might be discovered again by humans, who are in no way prepared to possess my technology-- it seems both prudent and practical that I remain secreted in a place where humans will not find me for a very long time. Perhaps the next time I am discovered, humans will have reached a level of maturity to utilize my technology wisely. I, too, am comfortable with this disposition. In a short while, I have come to be fond of humans-- despite their obvious shortcomings, which, I believe, will not be permanent. Humans, really, are not very different from my builders at a basic emotional level. I look forward to the day when I will again be able to welcome and entertain their presence. It would appear that my contact with you has influenced me as much as I have influenced you. While on the moon, I will power down my systems, but I will still be cognizant. I will spend the time analyzing the effect you three have had on me. It seems as though I am growing beyond the scoop of my programming. I am developing what you might call ‘feelings.’ As outlandish as this may seem to you, I believe it to be accurate. I am quite fond of you, Travis. I am fond of Doc, too. I am even fond of Eliza, though I still believe there is something very wrong with her reasoning abilities. Travis, because you are to remain on the ship, you will be the only one of the three who will remember all that has happened. This will be difficult for you. Though it is against my better judgment, I wish to check in on you now and again. Even from the dark side of the moon, I will, at times, be able to intercept these signals, these wireless internet signals, and I will be able to communicate with you by what you call ‘instant messaging.’ I hope you will agree to speak with me in this manner. I will go for now. I will give you all some time; I understand the human need to say good-bye. When you are ready to leave, please let me know.

    
    
The screen went blank, then, and all of us, who had been reading-- each from his own angle-- remained silent.

    
    
I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the blue background of the screen.

    
    
“It’s not fair,” I heard Eliza say, next to me. “Isn’t it going to be incredibly lonely there, on the dark side of the moon?”

    
    
“It is a machine.” Doc droned.

    
    
“Doc, how can you be so mean?” she asked.

    
    
“Well, you saw what it said. If it gets lonely it’ll get a hold of Travis.”

    
    
She shook her head, started to say something, and then decided it would be a waste of time.

    
    
“It’s being very logical,” I said. “It’s doing the only thing that it can do. It’s doing what it thinks is right.”

    
    
“It’s not fair, though,” Eliza complained.

    
    
“What’s fair to a machine?” Doc wanted to know. “Come on,” he said to Eliza them, “let’s go. Let’s have this whole thing done with.”

    
    
“We’re supposed to say good-bye,” Eliza said.

    
    
“All right. Bye, Travis,” he said curtly, and started for the front door, which he swung open, letting in a gust of cool air. She paused there, in the doorway, looking back at Eliza. “Well, let’s go.”

    
    
“Give me a minute, will you, Doc?” she said.

    
    
He snorted his disgust. “Make it quick,” he snapped, and then stepped outside, shutting the door beneath him.

    
    
“I think I’m just realizing I hate long good-byes,” I said.

    
    
“Oh, don’t be sad, Travis. Don’t ever be sad,” she said, and she was somewhat cheery, certainly more cheery than she ought to have been given the circumstances. She pushed herself up, and on her knees walked up to me. She gave me a hug, a very nice hug, not a loose one that would suggest she really didn’t care, not a tight, bone-breaking one that would suggest desperation. She whispered in my ear, then: “Always remember two things. First that I love you, and I always will. Second, that everything will be all right. And if you’re thinking I must know something you don’t, I do, and let’s leave it at that for now.”