The Sphere: A Journey In Time (11 page)

He shook his head slightly. "How can that be?"

I sighed. At least with this I could be honest. "I don't really even understand it myself, how it all works. But you were here. That place is here. The two of us used to sit out there in the grass under that dome together. Just like this." He looked like he didn't believe me. "The grass, it's a circular area right? And there are benches and buildings lining the edges of the circle?"

He looked astonished. "You can see my dreams?"

"No. I've lived them. You've lived them. They aren’t dreams." I could tell he didn’t believe me.

He glanced sideways at me, calculating something. Again, it was a gesture I recognized from Noah. “I would appreciate seeing this dome for myself.”

This conversation wasn’t getting us anywhere, I realized. I needed to get more information from him. “Montgomery, look, I want to help you. I promise I can help you, but I need to know more about what happened to you first.”

He still looked a little dazed by my knowledge of what he thought of as dreams. He closed his eyes and rubbed them briefly. When he reopened his eyes he focused on me again. “What do you need to know?”

"When you lost your memory, do you remember what day it was?"

He thought for a moment. "It was the winter. Snow covered the ground. Almost Christmas I believe."

"Anything else?"

"It was a Sunday. People were exiting the church as I wandered the square."

"Do you have any idea how close it was to Christmas? How much time passed before you celebrated the holiday?"

He closed his eyes and worried his forehead. "The wreath... The Advent wreath in the main square.” He nodded to himself and opened his eyes. He had a look of smug triumph on his face.  “They lit the third candle that day."

That meant nothing to me. "I don't understand. What's advent?"

He seemed surprised that I didn't know this. He straightened in his chair and pushed his glass aside, folding his hands in front of him. It felt like I was about to be lectured.

He cleared his throat and began. "There are 4 candles representing the 4 weeks of Advent that mark our watch for the birth of our Lord. Every week, another candle is lit to mark the passage of time. Supposing the third candle had been lit that week, it would mean it was the second to last Sunday before Christmas." He focused on me, talking almost like he would to a child and his voice slowed towards the end of his explanation.

"Noah, that's perfect!" For the first time since I entered the room, my smile came naturally.

He looked at me intently. He didn't seem to register my slip of his name. "You were there."

"What?” My face fell with confusion. “Where?"

"You were in my dreams. You were in the glass enclosure with me. That is why you seem familiar to me." His voice started to break. "But that can’t be,” he paused. “I believe I would appreciate some solitude."

"Of course. I'll come back again later, if you like."

I sat for a moment, waiting for a reply. When he didn't say anything in response after a few more moments, I excused myself and left the room.

I found Jim waiting for me just outside the door again. I had no idea where he had been watching from that he would emerge so quickly. "Addy, that makes no sense."

"What makes no sense?"

"His mission was supposed to end in August. The witch burning happened in August. What was he still doing there in December?"

I fought to try and understand what Jim was so rattled about. “I don’t know.”

“The nature of this mission has changed. They no longer think this was an accident. They think Noah was intentionally trying to escape.”

I had to laugh. “That’s ridiculous, Noah would never do that.”

“Think about it from their perspective. He’s never been exactly quiet about his disapproval of the way this place is run. And now he’s stayed well past the completion of a mission. No matter what the reason, they think he’s making them look bad, and they won’t have it.” He paused and took a deep breath, “And they’re rethinking sending you.”

The anger flared in me immediately. “They don’t trust me?”

“Can you blame them?”

I couldn’t argue with Jim. My hostility wavered. I knew deep down I would be more loyal to Noah than those people in the boardroom, even if it meant losing my job. “I’m still the best person they have for finding out what’s going on with him.”

“I’m not sure they care about that so much as... making an example of him.”

I caught the hesitation in Jim’s voice. I knew him well enough to know he didn’t voice out loud what he was actually thinking.

Chapter 11

The next few days were busy ones. They had agreed to give me a chance to convince Noah he should come back, so I started studying up on the 1690s and went for my costume fitting. The scout went back and returned a day later to confirm the date of Noah's memory loss and the existence of the woman he had mentioned being in his house when he woke up.

I was anxious to get my new mission underway but Jim was adamant that I didn't rush into it. He kept quizzing me on random information about the time period that I found completely unnecessary. I kept trying to assure him that I would only be there long enough to find Noah and warn him of what was to come. Though I knew I wasn’t as stealthy as a scout, the preparation was still overkill and I knew they intended it to be that way. They were trying to assert their control over me in relation to this mission. If they were already giving in by just letting me go, then they would have me do the mission on their terms.

I could tell Jim was still hiding something, but since it was likely I was being watched even more closely in the days before my mission, there was no way to find out what he wanted to tell me. My mind feared the worst, that making an example of Noah meant that he would be severely punished, possibly even dismissed, if I managed to get him to come back. I despaired at the idea that even if I got him back, he could be taken away again just as quickly. Getting him back was still preferable to doing nothing.

Montgomery Noah had been moved to a more comfortable living space at my repeated request. He was still being guarded but I could see him whenever I liked. He was happy to have someone to talk to but tended to retreat from me whenever I tried to talk about this place or the technologies around him. He had accepted now that he was in the future. With so much evidence to support the idea, it hadn’t taken long to convince him of the truth. He believed it, but he didn’t like it.

There were signs in him that I found reassuring. Aspects of his personality poked through from time to time. He took comfort in trying to cook and made lunch for me one day when I had told him I would come by. Even this didn't change the fact that he had an entire lifetime that had been taken from him. He frequently talked about his wife, children, and grandchildren, and I could tell that he missed them terribly. It comforted me to know that he had been such a devoted husband and father. It also devastated me to think that not only had that life been torn away from him, but that if I succeeded in my mission, it was a life he'd never know.

He had asked to see his quarters and also the grassy area in the dome where we sometimes had lunch. Both requests had been denied. Although I believed that taking him places that should be familiar to him might help him recover his memory, the powers that be didn't think it was worth the risk. They weren't very clear on what they thought that risk was though. More and more I got the feeling they just didn't care. A sneaking suspicion grew inside me that while I was gone, something would likely happen to Montgomery Noah.

Every time we got together the first thing he would ask me was if he was being sent back to his home. And every time I told him no, he asked when he would be. I kept telling him I wasn't sure, which was not necessarily a lie. For all I knew they would find a way to get our Noah back and send this one back to his own time. He had been subjected to all sorts of brain scans and tests. They seemed to be interested in his memory loss and were very eager to find out how it happened. I hoped, rather than believed this was for altruistic reasons concerning him. All the scout had been able to find out was the name of the woman who was with Noah at the time of his memory loss. The general consensus was that she must be involved in it somehow.

My last visit with Noah before my mission started out as usual, and I tried very hard to push away the sneaking suspicion that this was the last time I would see him. I hadn't been allowed to tell him that I was going back.

"I know your ideal solution would be to be sent back to your family, but if that turns out to be impossible, what is the next best alternative?"

Noah sat in silent thought for a few moments. I knew he would answer, as he did all my questions, and that he just needed time to process the idea. "Death."

Though my paranoia had convinced me that death was what he was headed for, I couldn't yield to that. "You can't be serious."

"What do I have to live for here? Trapped in this cell of a house, not allowed to do anything useful, no family left."

"What if there was a way to integrate you into this society?"

"From what I have witnessed, I do not want to be a member."

I couldn't blame him for that, given how he had been treated. "Okay then, the outside world. Forget about this place."

"This is all I know of your world."

That was certainly true. He wasn't allowed out, he wasn't allowed to read anything about current events or the history that brought us to this. The information I had given him about this place was sporadic at best. "It's much nicer than in here. You enjoy cooking, perhaps you could be a chef."

"You have food here I'm not even familiar with. And cooking machinery I've never used before. It would take me a long time to learn how things work in this time." He looked sad again, "Besides, I only enjoy cooking for company, and I know no one out there."

And he barely knew anyone in here. "And you think death is preferable to even trying?"

"I'm too old to be starting over."

"How old do you think you are?"

He hesitated. His aging process had slightly increased while he was gone, near as we could tell, but he was still a product of this society and had already outlived most people he would have met in Salem. When he left on his mission he would have looked to be in his early twenties to the people there. "I have to be at least seventy."

"One hundred and twelve." No reason to lie about this.

He inhaled through his teeth. "But I look-"

"About sixty, I know. A lot of developments have been made in health and medicine. The average life expectancy of a person born these days is about one hundred and sixty years."

“But I had no access to these developments.”

“True. There are things we can easily cure now that would’ve killed you back then. So you were lucky in the respect that you didn’t have some horrible accident. But your advanced immune system protected you from certain common diseases, and the fact that you born and raised in this time gave you a pretty good head start. Your time in the 1700s seemed to negate some of these advancements, so it’s not likely you would’ve lived the full one hundred and sixty years.”

"How old are you?"

"Forty-two." Though I knew I looked to be in my early twenties to him. He didn't seem to believe me. "Personnel file, Adelaide MacDuff." My file opened again before him. He had gotten used to this now and did not get frightened away. "Computer, date."

Connery’s voice responded, "Wednesday, April 26th, 2073."

He looked at my birthdate on the file and I could tell he was doing the math in his head. "This could have been falsified."

"Why would I lie about my age?" I smiled at the notion of vanity.

He had no answer. He looked over my profile more intently. He wasn't allowed access to many documents so naturally he would be curious about anything he could see. Most of our conversations went this way. It was obvious he still did not trust me, and I couldn't fault him for that. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I knew there was no reason to worry him. Still I couldn't keep the fear from my face. "Why do you look so uneasy?" he asked me.

"Someone is going back tomorrow. To find out what happened to you."

"What are you worried they'll find out?"

I couldn't answer that. I was eager to find out what had happened, my worry had to do with what was to come. "I just miss my friend."

"Why don't they just send me back?"

"We need to know any potential repercussions. This is dangerous stuff we're playing with here."

"Then you shouldn't be playing with it."

I laughed at his indignant tone. Noah and I had arguments like this all the time. "Seventy years ago you didn't seem to mind that much."

He shook his head at me. "I can't imagine someone like me ever approving of what goes on here. You're interfering with people's lives, with history."

"No. There are rules that we strictly adhere to, to prevent interference with the way history would normally unfold. We're very careful."

"Not careful enough, it would seem." He gave me a condescending look.

"Noah knew what he was doing. I know him and I know that much. We're very good at our jobs." It felt strange to be referring to Noah as a separate person from this man. Although they shared a few personality traits, this was definitely not the same person. "And he is one of the best." I wasn't sure why I said that in present tense. I guessed I just wanted to reassure myself that when I went back in time tomorrow morning, I would find the same person I knew and missed. And he would not be this old man who had given up hope.

He caught the inference and his temper flared. "You see? It would be easier on you if I died. Then you could remember that other man you knew who seems like such a great man and not this old, useless one."

This is not how I wanted our last moments together to go, but I fumed at his dismissiveness of his former self. "Maybe you’re right!" I violently sprang out of my chair and stormed out of his place.

I went back to my quarters, angry at myself for leaving things that way, and angry at him for not accepting who he really was. Once I had calmed down I decided to write him a note. I casually pocketed a pen and took one of my books into the bathroom with me, hoping for the first time ever, that my bathroom was not under video surveillance. I turned to a page near the back of the book that had one blank side and began to write on it. I explained my anger at him and what my mission really entailed. It felt cowardly, I should've told him the truth to his face. I fought with the idea of telling him not to trust anyone at the lab, but it wasn’t like he had any way to resist them. Not cooperating would be worse for him than merely being confused at what they wanted to do with him. I promised him I would do everything I could to get him back home to his family. I knew it was an empty promise since there was nothing I could actually do, but I didn’t want to leave him thinking I didn’t care to at least try.

Even with a sleeping pill I had a fitful night of tossing and turning. I woke up in the morning feeling worse about how I had left things, but knew there wouldn't be time to see him again before I left. And in a few hours, it wouldn't matter. He would likely be gone. Even if that old man never knew the truth, the real Noah, the one I was going to go help, would know my intentions were good.

I met Jim at the entrance to the departure chamber and surreptitiously handed him the note addressed to Montgomery Welsher. He gave a slight nod and slid it into his pants pocket, but I wasn't sure he'd be able to deliver it later, after I left. I changed into my costume and had my hair done up in a bun which I was able to hide under my bonnet. I had a picture of the aged Noah in a pocket in my skirt. It was the only thing I had decided to take with me. My orders were strict; if I couldn’t convince Noah to return or prevent his memory loss I had to leave immediately after it happened. They decided to send me back early in the morning so I had about 3 hours to complete my mission. The scout had found a patch of dense trees for my arrival not far from the house where Noah would be. I had memorized the map of the area. I knew by heart where I would arrive, how to get to Noah’s place from there, how long it would take, the path the woman took upon leaving him, and the square he wandered into afterward. Three hours should be more than ample time.

The medical team administered a sedative and a health packet to me before I entered the departure room. The sphere sat on a small pedestal in the middle of the plain white room. Without hesitation I walked up to it, flicked opened the lid with my thumb, and pressed the glowing red button.

Arrival was always an easier transition. I found myself surrounded by trees, almost as though they had been there the whole time.  I closed the lid on the sphere and shoved it down into my coat pocket before moving on. A strong breeze whistled through them and I cinched my coat tighter and tied my bonnet down over my brow a little more snugly. Most people in the town were supposed to be at church at this hour, so I knew I wasn't likely to run into anyone.