Interference (Chapter 7)

October 22, 2109, 3:00 AM

Patrik Ceiltra was in great distress. Last night, his daughter’s note just rang in his head. Mom in danger, took the time machine, be back soon, don’t worry... those few lines just repeated themselves. But he couldn’t help but worry. She just took the time machine out of nowhere? How had she even known where it was? Regardless, he paced, thinking over the last few stressful days.
All he’d done was work, trying not to remember the fact that his wife had come home from the capital only a few days ago to announce that they couldn’t be together anymore. It seemed random, but he’d realized how she’d stopped returning his chats, how she had nearly cut off all communication with him while she was gone.
He’d tried to tell himself that it was okay that she was feeling this way, that she would come back. But now, it was not only his daughter’s words on his mind, but the words on the document that had recently appeared, obscuring the work on his busiTop. The document requesting his signature, the one that asked him to do something he’d never thought of doing.
It seemed that these past days had only forced him to work harder, but now he’d been caught completely off guard. And everything was turning upside down. The main computer screen told the story of the Leader’s son going missing, and his great concern for him and how he was searching for him desperately now.
“Even amongst all his other business, Leader Alexander Abbort has such devotion for his family,” announced the mediawoman, before continuing to another government/dictator worshipping story. “And now, onto his most recent accomplishment in...”
Patrik turned off the screen after that second, sighing deeply. He’d had enough of that, those lies, propaganda being shoved down everyone’s throats, as they all listened blindly. And to think, he’d known the perpetrator of it all... he pushed the thought away, exiting out of the document requesting that he sign to end his marriage, trying to work again, trying to think of a way to get out of this, to fix all of it.
“Patrik Ceiltra? Please come to your door, Mr. Ceiltra, we have important manners to discuss with you,” came a syrupy voice from outside his door, their faces appearing on the security camera screen from within, their voices projected from the outer microphone. He knew they could see him inside with the camera outdoors showing the activities of his home.
Mediators. It seemed like there was really no difference between day and night for them, considering the miserable time at which they had now arrived. Those voices, those uniforms, their strange expressions. How deceitful could this place get? For a long time, he’d been doubting the ignorantly accepted “government” system, yet he’d shoved those thoughts down , and now, they were taking the front and center of his mind.
Reluctantly, he opened the door, and the two mediators, a male and a female in identical midnight-blue uniforms stepping inside with no formal welcome.
“Hello city mediators. What brings me the honor of seeing you in my home?” Patrik said, attempting to sound as genuine as possible, silently cursing his own hypocrisy. The odd, blank eyes of the female mediator met his.
“We’re here to inquire a few bits of information from you, if you do not mind,” she said, her voice so perfect, so soothing, desperate to move one, yet behind that voice, he heard a threat. Her true words were, in his mind, “We’re going to ask you questions, and if you don’t answer, there will be consequences.”
The two “mediators” sat down on the couch, and pulled out the newest, sleekest models of busiTops, as he sat across from them.
“It appears there has been time machine usage within the past 48 hours, is this so?” asked the male mediator. Lying would not be tolerated.
“Yes, this is so,” Patrik replied. It was safe to now, in the very least, though with every response to come, he expected to be digging himself and his family deeper into a hole they may not be able to get out of.
“And we understand that you have an older model time machine, correct? One that you had not yet returned to its manufacturer, yes?”
“Correct.”
“Well, sir, you do understand you could be reformed for this action?” said the female mediator. Patrik nodded.
“Regardless of such, it seems that the Ceiltra-owned time machine has traveled out of legal range and is currently out of detection.”
Where had Kainni gone? He thought. Even if she’d gone back a few months, or even years, it would still be in detection range... the only way for her to be out of range now would be...
Patrik desperately attempted to keep calm.
“Is that so?” he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.
“Yes, it is so. We’ve just stated it so. Now, Mr. Ceiltra, if you would please follow us back to our office, we will continue your questioning there,” said the female mediator crisply, standing in unison with her partner.
In laymen’s terms, “Mr. Ceiltra, you are under arrest.”


Kainni

When I awoke, I found that Troy was not next to me. It was not a pleasant feeling, considering last night’s events, and it took a few moments to remember where we had ended up. The guest room looked different, and there were no blinds in this guest room, only heavy curtains that now filtered in bluish light from the overcast outside.
That dream, though I didn’t understand it, just kept coming back to haunt me. And why would I want to fight, and especially, defeat, Troy? Why would he be my enemy? Other than obvious reasons... but those reasons, were literally, from yesterday. In the past. I’d done my best to keep them in, but I knew this was all going too fast, and that I should get back to listening to my common sense sometime.
I rose to my feet and started for the door of the guest room, which cracked open before I could even reach it.
“O-Oh... sorry, did I wake you?” Troy whispered as he let himself in. I shook my head, recovering from the momentary startle, laughing slightly to myself at his eerie timing.
“No, no, I was actually just about to leave the room and look for you...” I said, keeping my voice low as he did, assuming that others may still be asleep.
“Heh... yeah, Terra’s dad made me sleep on the couch...” he said, trailing off, rubbing the back of his neck like he felt sort of nervous.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s alright,” I said, tentatively sliding my arm around his waist and kissing his cheek. He smiled hesitantly, kissing my forehead and wrapping his arms around my waist. I mirrored him, and we stood there for a moment, until...
“Good morning, guests,” said Terra’s dad as he opened the door, his arms crossed, smiling with a half-smugness as he interrupted us. I felt my cheeks turn hot as we pulled away.
“I thought I’d stay home this morning for you two and Terra, if that’s alright. Anyway, what do you guys want for breakfast?” he asked.
Terra came down the hall, her hand on her forehead, looking greatly annoyed at her own rude awakening. She glared at her father for a second, before stalking back up the stairs, yawning.
“Uh... I don’t care,” I said, feeling the need to break the awkward silence. He seemed satisfied with that answer.
“I think it’d be nice to go out today, don’t you think?”
It looked like it was going to be another rainy day... of course it was a good day to go out again.
“If that’s alright with you two.”
We nodded, desperately hoping he’d let us get ready in peace.
“Alright then,” he said, starting toward the stairs.
“Terra! Time to get up, we’re going to get breakfast...”
I heard her groan from upstairs, before her dad peaked over at the guest room again.
“Oh, right, Troy, I have some clothes for you to borrow.”
He tossed a stack of folded clothes to him, motioning for him to leave the room. He gave me a backwards glance as he headed for the bathroom. Terra soon dropped by, still looking half-asleep, half-dead, and barely awake, handing me a pile of not too neat, yet clean, clothes to borrow from her.
“Here,” she said, yawning. “Sorry about my dad... he’s just... I dunno, him.”
“It’s alright,” I replied, making a weak attempt to smile reassuringly.
She responded a similar way, but I knew it would be harder for her. I closed the door after she was gone and slipped on a pair of dark, tapered jeans and a fitted button down shirt that had was checked with black and red and a combination of the two. The sleeves were three-quarters length if one buttoned their cuffs, just above my elbows. I slipped it on over a white tank top and put on my somewhat muddy boots.
Looking at myself in the mirror, though I accurately appeared a little sleep-deprived, I was satisfied with the look I had. I stepped into the hallway, Terra at the bottom of the stairs, Troy exiting to meet us there. Terra’s father was a little bit taller than Troy, so the clothes were a little big on him, yet the black button down shirt, with the three buttons open, sleeves rolled up, and dark jeans somehow seemed to work very well for him.
“Uh, Kainni, you can keep that outfit... I don’t really wear those clothes that much, so, yeah,” said Terra. I didn’t know why she didn’t like it. Troy took his place next to me, as Terra’s dad came downstairs, tossing his keys in the air as he made his way down.
“You all ready to go?” he said. We nodded collectively as he led us to the garage, where he must have put his car while we were sleeping. We assumed our spots from the night before, Terra in the passenger seat, her father driving, Troy and I in the back. Mr. Sawyer keyed a code into a remote control that opened the garage door, backing up as soon as our seatbelts were buckled, closing the door with the same code as soon as we were out.
Terra turned on the radio, and some soft song with adoring, but odd, lyrics came on, to which she changed the station. Loud guitar and a guy with a voice slightly whispery, then came on, to which her father, strangely, allowed to remain on the station, even when the guy’s voice rose, almost to a scream. Even when he did scream.
“Wow, I’m impressed, Dad, not changing the station to ‘good’ music... and on a Sunday,” Terra jeered, sarcastically. He just a smug look on his face, as he sang what sounded like the chorus under his breath, barely audible compared to the loud song bursting through his car speakers.
“Breathe your life into me, I can feel you, I'm falling, falling faster, breathe your life into me, I still need you, I'm falling, falling, breathe into me...” he sang. The song soon ended with a bang of even louder music, and screaming, which transferred into a man on the radio announcing that this was From the Heart, a program sponsored by Life for Christ Church...
“This is the POP station, why is there...? How is that even a Christian song, I mean, it’s like hardcore metal or something...”
“You don’t know hardcore metal, Terra.”
“I’m surprised you ever used to,” she muttered, “And that is really creepy, Dad.”
He just laughed to himself, as we arrived at a restaurant. A chain diner that looked like it was trying too hard, but still seemed popular, named “Denny’s”. I’d seen it in really old movies, and I mean, very, very old, but never did I think I would ever be face to face with an old chain restaurant like this.
Troy was staring at the floor of the car as our doors automatically unlocked and some song about scars on your wrist and that it was the last night you’ll spend alone came on, and Mr. Sawyer cut the engine. How would he know what hardcore metal was?
“Sometimes I cannot believe you went from being in a band that played like, Metallica or whatever, to being in the freaking church band...” Terra said to her father, annoyed, as Troy and I trailed the pair into the restaurant.
“One day you’ll understand,” he said, as we stood in line to be given menus and taken to a table. The place seemed pretty packed this morning.
“What time is it...?” I said, mostly to myself.
“Ten-thirty,” said the woman at the counter as I found ourselves suddenly at the front of the line. Well, that was quick. All the people must have been done with “church” already. What a weird place this was...
Hardly anyone I knew went to church anymore. In fact, none of my friends did. My parents didn’t. I didn’t, naturally. My parents said that I didn’t need to have someone, or, something, tell me how to live my life. And I agreed with them. And that I had to be logical about things, not to just blindly accept something. That, I was certainly good at.
But my mother never went as far as to diminish the intelligence of those who did believe in something beyond the earth. I knew that most people did, but didn’t like to say, for fear of being thought of in that light. She said that even if I didn’t agree with someone, however, that I shouldn’t judge them. And that I should never belittle them for what they believed.
Even when it seemed rather unbelievable. I thought about these things, trying desperately not to ache for her, my mother, as we took our seat at the table.
This whole time, Troy had not let his gaze leave the floor. He just didn’t seem to have anything to say. I glanced away from him at the father and daughter. Terra had given up her comments, now pretending to be absolutely fascinated by the many ways to put together a “Grand Slam” as the menu’s separate, laminated companion stated. Hm... food that I would never eat at home. I glanced through the menu, trying to see if anything familiar or appetizing resided there.
Nothing familiar, lots appetizing. I realized that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s meager lunch. Before that, nothing but about an eighth of a mug of coffee.
Troy seemed to be feeling the same way, trying to hide the ravenous look he had when other people received their orders. I kept my eyes on the menu, trying not to smell anything, trying not to be tempted to order whatever seemed like the largest, most caloric, meal that was available on the menu.
“Hello there, I’m Sandra, I’ll be your waitress for today. So is there anything you’d like to drink, coffee, tea...?”
Our waitress had light brown hair, and looked to be in her late teens, to early 20’s.
“I’ll take a coffee,” said Terra’s father.
“I’ll have coffee as well,” said Terra, a few odd moments too late, still keeping her eyes fixed to the menu, though her mind was elsewhere.
“Just water for me,” said Troy.
“I’ll have water as well,” I said, though I really did want more coffee. But I knew I wouldn’t need it. And it wasn’t good for me. Neither was much of the food here, I could see, but that I couldn’t really change much. Soon, the waitress returned with the tray of our drinks, handing the coffees to their respective persons, the water to Troy, and setting three miniature bowls of cream packages on the table.
“Are you guys ready to order?” she asked us.
“I’ll have the grand slam sandwich,” said Mr. Sawyer.
“One Slamwich,” said Sandra the waitress as she wrote down his order on her notepad, taking his menu in one swift motion afterwards.
“Wheat pancakes, please,” said Terra, still staring at the menu, and then at the table as it was relinquished.
“Hearty wheat hotcakes,” she said as she wrote her order down.
“I’ll have the vegetable and cheese omelet,” I said.
“Veggie-cheese omelet... and you, sir?” Sandra said, eyeing Troy, who still seemed undecided.
“I’ll have the French toast,” he said.
“The Fabulous French Toast platter?”
“Uh, yeah, that,” he replied, quietly.
“Alright then. I’ll be back with your meals soon,” she said, cheerily stepping to the next table. I wonder how much caffeine it took for her get so chipper working at a place that was so busy and crowded. Conversations passed throughout the restaurant like the tides of an ocean going in all different directions.

“...And your grant aunt Sam went to your great uncle’s house with...”

“...So therefore, there is no possible way that the thing could pass without great resistance and...”

“What’d you think of the game on Friday?”

“The songs in church today were nice...”

“...and in the dream, there was this evil muffin slash alien overlord chasing me and...”

“...and Mrs. Reynolds was talking to Lisa’s neighbor, that man on fourth street...”

“...Chris Nichol is so annoying...”

“...no sweetheart, don’t be digging in mommy’s purse, no that’s my keys...”

Someone’s search alarm went off in the parking lot a few moments after that. In spite of all the waves surrounding us, our table was an island of dry silence.
“Why did you take us here, Dad?” groaned Terra, finally making our table blend into the conversational masses.
“Well, I just wanted to get you guys some breakfast, and maybe talk a little or something... I haven’t hung out with you and your friends for a long time and...”
“Couldn’t we have just stayed home to do that?” she grumbled, as I eyed another family entering the restaurant. They were a neatly dressed group, most of them dressed somewhat formally, the mother in a black skirt and a rose-colored blouse, the father in a white, collared shirt, and black dress pants, their daughter, a little girl with a light brown hair, wore a dress. Their son was an exception—his hands were in his pockets, he had on a white t-shirt that had the logo on his shoes printed upon it in various colors, dark jeans, and a hat on over his shaggy dark brown hair.
As the family was led to the table, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, his deep, night-sky blue eyes. Immediately, I looked over at Troy, who seemed to be just as immersed in his thoughts as Terra had been earlier. I tuned out their conversation now, glancing back and forth between Troy and the guy who shared his eyes.
Troy now seemed to notice this guy who had an eerie likeness to himself. Quickly, he glanced away as our waitress arrived, setting up a stand for the two plates that she would later hand out.
“Hearty wheat hotcakes and a Slamwich,” she said, setting down Terra’s plate and her father’s in front of him.
“One fabulous French toast platter,” she said, annoying stating the menu’s titles for the dishes again, putting Troy’s plate in front of him.
“And a veggie-cheese omelet. I hope you all enjoy!”
She set my warm plate in front of me, taking the empty platters away and finally giving me permission to keep my mind from more pressing matters and focus on my food.

Troy

Where I had been nearly starving earlier, I found that I could not focus on eating now. That family, that other guy, over there, the name they called him, his face, reminded me of my own family tree. Each one of us looked like the ones we grew to hate, and he was one of them, I could see it.
Although, it didn't make sense; he had a little sister, a living mother. I morbidly wondered when these things would disappear for him. Unless he was the first one that cracked.
This was on my mind as we finally left the restaurant, after listening to the fractured conversation between Terra and her father, and his attempts to communicate with Kainni and I. It seemed he meant well, though his occasionally overbearing ways didn't really please Terra very much.
He didn't even ask us where we were from, or express aloud if he wondered why we were "running". Just asked us about our interests, maybe he asked how we knew each other. Conversation came naturally for him, and he listened as well as he spoke.
I, of all people would know a person who covered up their terrifying behavior and personality with something calmer and crowd-pleasing, but I could tell that Terra's father was genuine. I had never really experienced what a good male parent would be, but it seemed he would probably be pretty close.
It seemed impossible to understand why Terra would ever take for granted someone like that. Yet, I could see there were topics that he would avoid.
On the way to the hospital, the car radio on a station Terra seemed not to enjoy, a quiet and emotional and confusing song about being held in the worst of situations started to play.
"Remember when Mom used to listen to this Natalie Grant chick? You brought her to that concert...you were so sure that you could cheer her up with it..." she said, crossing her arms, her soft words like a serrated knife.
He didn't respond, eyes on the road, all the words he might have said having ceased.
"I mean, you'd think that she'd need someone like that with her while she's going through this... you'd think someone would be strong enough to help her..." she continued.
He turned off the radio abruptly, almost looking angry for a split second, though the anger was not aimed at his daughter, nor his currently absent wife. A few more blocks brought him the escape from the subject he so obviously wanted to avoid, the hospital rising as he parked in the lot.
Terra stepped from the car, her father following close behind, Kainni and I the last ones out. We walked inside, and I was grateful to be out of the emergency waiting room; it had been miserable in there, and though the hospital was tense with emotions of all states, being anywhere but there or within an actual hospital room seemed to be a breath of fresh air.
We approached the desk in a different wing, Terra the one with the most anticipation, as she asked: "Hi, we were wondering if Shane Trenton is able to take visitors right now," she said.
The receptionist looked up his name on her ancient computer, and nodded. "It looks like that would be okay, but you'll have to check with his doctor before going in. I think he's actually got some visitors right now, but..."
"What room is he in now?" Terra interrupted.
"Room 240, but it seems like he has some other visitors right now_"
"'Kay, thanks."
Terra immediately bounded for the room, disregarding the receptionist's subtle warnings as she dragged us behind her. It seemed she was in quite the hurry for this visit. Not as she had been the night before; it seemed she was panicking still, now, desperate to find if last night's reassurances had lasted and to make sure everything was okay.
"Hey, Ter, are you sure you don't want to pick something up from the gift shop downstairs first or...?" her father started, but she was already miles ahead of us.
And then she came to an abrupt halt in front of a door, room 240. Her gaze was fixed on the little door's window. Kainni and I soon arrived behind her, glancing inside as well.
There was a suited woman in the room, carrying a large case with her, as well as the doctor from the night before. I couldn't see Shane from behind them, and it appeared they were quite involved in their discussion.
"...made attempts to contact your..."
"...a backup for..."
"You're going to need a place to recover until we can reach one of your relatives. Is there anyone you know who could do that for you?"
At this opportune moment, the anxious girlfriend fumbled with the door's knob, before tapping lightly upon it. The doctor responded by opening the door a tiny bit.
"Well, it looks like our time is up," he said, more so talking to the woman in the suit than any of us. He walked back to his patient for a moment. "Shane, you think you can handle a few more visitors for a bit?"
Terra blocked the doorway, and we still couldn't see him.
"Sure," he replied, his voice hoarse and quiet, coughing slightly as he spoke.
The woman in the suit came to the door with the doctor.
"Alright. Don't be afraid to call the nurse if you need anything," he said, and the woman nodded.
"We'll be back soon."
We finally occupied the room, Terra immediately taking the seat closest to Shane.
The encounter with his father the other day had obviously not helped his current state, the more apparent bruises from the other day having been amplified, and there were several on his face, as well as many cuts and scratches, and a bandage over his forehead, probably more on his arm, one of which resided in a cast. It appeared that his ribs might be bandaged underneath his hospital attire, and his left foot, the one he'd been avoiding using the other day, was casted softly up his calf. All in all, he was very battered, though we all knew that it could have been much worse.
Which is why Terra seemed to cling so hard to his uninjured hand.
"Wow, don't I feel popular today," he managed to croak out. Terra smiled weakly at his attempt to lighten the slightly dim mood. He coughed. She was watching him closely, and then glanced over at her father, as if to ask a question. He didn't seem to understand.
"Who... who was that lady, Shane?" Terra prodded gently.
Shane attempted to sit up, but cringed back down onto the bed, coughing as he did so.
"Just... some... social worker or something."
"Ah. Well, it sounded like you needed a place to stay outside of the hospital."
Her father shot her a warning glance, to which she responded by looking pleadingly at him. She wanted to add another guest to their growing list of unpaying boarders, an injured one at that.
"Well..." Terra started.
He sighed. "We'll think about it."
"I... I was going to ask, Mr. Sawyer" Shane said, coughing slightly. "But I didn't... want to... cause any trouble..."
Trouble seemed to come easy to Shane and Terra, all too common in their disquieted lives. Those words and the apology in his reluctant, but almost desperate gaze seemed to satisfy Terra's father.
"I'll take it up with them with they come back in, alright? No promises, though. I want to help, but... I can't make any promises."
Shane nodded, but automatically seemed to regret this motion as he winced afterward, shooting himself into a coughing fit. Terra looked very distressed at the sight.
"Are you okay? Shane, calm down, take deep breaths..." she said, more panicky than really helpful was her tone. Eventually, he stopped coughing, taking a few long moments to catch his breath.
"Are you okay?" she repeated, quieter now.
"Y-Yeah... I'm fine..."
I heard the doorknob being turned, a young nurse stepping in with a tray of lunch food. I realized we'd eaten breakfast late, but not quite this late. Or maybe it was just the hospital schedules.
"Good morning again, Shane. And visitors," she said, greeting us all with a nice, positive smile; she was oddly a lot less annoying than the waitress.
"Morning again, Lea," he coughed out.
"Just thought I'd drop by and bring you some delicious hospital cuisine," she said, jokingly as she brought the tray to his right side, forcing Terra out of the chair and away from him.
"Oh, I'm sure," he replied sarcastically.
Lea the nurse, who seemed to be only a couple of inches shorter than me, with sun-bleached blond hair, smiled. "Well, it looks like you're doing pretty well. Anything you need?"
Shane was looking at the unappealing food. "Nothing for a while... maybe a little more_" He coughed again. "Some more meds for my ribs, if that's okay..."
"Alright, but we don't want to overmedicate you right now. Try getting something in your stomach first. I'll be back in ten. Enjoy your popularity," she said, winking, another genuine soul, as she headed for the door of the room.
"Wait... uh, Lea?" said Mr. Sawyer.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind taking me to Shane's doctor? I need to talk to him about something," he said.
"I could try. I think we can leave these kids alone for a minute," she said, and Terra's father followed her into the hall as she pulled out her strange radio-thing.
"Sorry I didn't bring you any food or anything..." said Terra, also looking at the unappetizing soft foods on the tray.
"At least... I'll be able to get out of here soon if they let... me stay... with you," he said, having forced himself to sit up and scoop up some yellowy-apple-colored mush into his mouth. His face scrunched at that moment.
"Can't wait to get out of here..." he muttered.
Terra put her hand on his shoulder, gently, sympathetically. She sighed. "I hope they do..." she said.
I wondered what the house would be like if we all had to live there. Albeit more spacious than Terra's mother's house, I could tell that things might not go very well with the four of us in one place again.
But there really wasn't much I could do. And it wasn't as though I would ever want to neglect an injured person a place to stay. But it wasn't even my house... I couldn't believe Mr. Sawyer could actually sacrifice his home like that. It was rather admirable to me.
After sitting back awkwardly and trying not to pay too much attention to the conversing couple, Terra's father, the doctor, and the social worker came to our rescue.
"Shane, as soon as you are recovered enough to leave the hospital, Mr. Sawyer is going to make arrangements to take you in until we locate a relative," announced the woman.
Terra looked like she was internally rejoicing at the news, and Shane seemed to be pretty happy about it as well. Her father seemed to be a little warmer to the idea now that he had it arranged.
The doctor scanned over us, the small crowd. "Well, I think it's time you guys be heading out for now," he said, as the nurse walked back in with some odd looking supplies.
"Hope your breakfast was good," she said. "Gotta check your vitals, make sure you're alive and all that..."
"Well, see you later, Shane," said Terra, her reluctance to leave coating her voice.
"See you later," he replied, smiling weakly. "Don't worry... I'll be seeing you a... lot more... seen..."
She brightened a little at this, as we all left the room.
"Mr. Sawyer, you're taking Shane into your place too?" said Kainni questioningly. He laughed slightly at the first of her statement.
"Call me Matt," he said. "And yes, I am. Is that alright with you?"
"Uh... sure," she replied, as we strapped ourselves into the backseat again.
"Thanks so much, Dad," said Terra, gratefully, embracing him tightly for once. "That was... really... really great of you."
"Gotta open my house up, you know? It's not really my house, it's..."
"Yeah, yeah, it was really nice, Dad. Thank you."
"Mi casa es... well, it belongs to whoever needs it," he replied. Terra sighed, her mood had not become weightier like it had been a while ago. I was glad this man was so kind to us, all of us. It was like nothing I had seen before. I watched the city as it flew by us, and though there might be chaos to come, I reached for Kainni's hand. I felt that we finally might have found someplace safe.

October 22, 2109, 12:00 PM

"It appears that you and your daughter have been violating the law for a long time. Your web history is loaded with illegal websites, to which you have been contributing to."
Upon the large screen in the conference room, were images of the websites the father and daughter had visited, places he wasn't even aware that his daughter had been to. Many of the sites had been closed. Responses that were tracked from her meTop showed up on the screen, speaking about suspicions, and against Alexander Abbort, some venting, some utterly passionate in emotion, anger, resentment, and all of it intelligent conclusions, and possible solutions to go about the way the seemingly peaceful nation was ruled.
He had one or two replies on some of the sites, but the vast majority of them were his daughter. A part of Patrik Ceiltra swelled with pride at his daughter's brilliance and willingness to stand up to injustice, though he was soon forced back into his current situation.
"The time machine was written in ownership by your family, and due to your partial ownership, you have also been deemed responsible for this violation of the current time machine code. You should know about the technicalities of the industry. You work for it, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Mr. Ceiltra, I'm going to have to ask you to remove the technological device," said the female mediator who had been interrogating him, more like stating all the facts THE Alexander had allowed her to look at. Which seemed to be his and his entire family's life.
He took off his glasses, which he had been controlling with his miniscule remote control that he’d been using with his left thumb and forefinger underneath the table, making them scan the information of his "industry" for the locations of some of his company's time machines all over the U.S. All he could see through the lenses were where the new machines were being distributed, and where the old machines were being exchanged or returned to. He relinquished them without a fight, knowing they were of no use to him now.
The Mediator woman motioned for him to give her what controlled them, and he handed the tiny remote to her. She crushed it between her thumb and forefinger, causing the power to cease.
“Well... do you have any protests to these suspected crimes, Mr. Ceiltra?” she said, her mood now appropriately cold for a person of her supposed stature.
“No, Mediator. I confess to all of them. However_”
“No ‘howevers’, Mr. Ceiltra. I have been requested to be your corrector, so, come along with me,” she said. She had a communication device implanted in her ear, and it appeared she was listening carefully for further instruction.
The rumors, the suspicions, they had to be true... no one went to jail anymore, they only got corrected.
If someone spoke out against the government’s rule publicly, or were caught at all, they would be corrected. If someone violated the laws against religious speaking, they were corrected. If someone had committed a horrible crime, even they were corrected. At times, criminals and those with different thoughts would disappear.
But what was correction? What was it, and what did it mean?
The Mediator grasped his face in her hands, forcing him to stare into her eyes, as she pulled out something metallic and glowing blue.
“Do not look away,” the Mediator commanded. Correction...
“Patrik Ceiltra... you are a follower of Alexander Abbort the ruler of our country, a great ruler, you will follow all his laws You will only speak highly of him...”

“So, how was the trip?” he’d asked.

“It was... it was great, Alexander Abbort has become an even more incredible man. And he is going to promote my business, and I am forever grateful for that,” she’d replied.

“You will now follow all of his laws, you will do whatever an Abbort Leader commands. You will report any crimes against him that you know are being committed.”

“Where’s Kainni? I’ve been wanting to talk to her for the longest time,” she’d asked.
“Oh, up in her room, probably just on her meTop or something.”

“Thank you.”

“You will do whatever he or his subjects demands of you, no matter what he asks.”

“I’m sorry, but this just isn’t going to work anymore... I can’t seem to go through with the things I want to do with you here. I just need to be out there on my own to really make something of this business...” she’d told him.

“Kainni, I love you,” She said to their daughter.

“But I just can’t be held down by you any longer...”

Her gaze had been focused on him now, and though her expression was so convincing, he had hoped desperately that the look in her eyes had not been true. That these were not her true wishes, but he couldn’t hold her down; he hadn’t before, or at least, he hadn’t thought he had, and though it seemed to be out of nowhere, he couldn’t force her to stay.
“I just need to be away for a while.”

The document that told him otherwise was still on his busiTop at home.

“Patrik Ceiltra, look at me!” the Mediator demanded, suddenly jabbing the side of his temple frantically with the glowing blue metal. There was a shot of pain at this motion, and he realized she’d made a fatal mistake in the order of her procedure. The other Mediator’s shouting voice suddenly became present in her ear, and she yelled angrily back at it, her own eyes flashing a lightning blue for a moment.
He pulled the tiny chip out, grateful that it had submerged entirely, like a burrowing tick, and threw the bloody piece of metal back at the woman, standing to run from the conference room, the “Mediator” scurrying close behind him.
As soon as they reached the door at the end of the long, ominous room, it swung open. They were greeted by the man whom the voice belonged to.
“We have some new information on the whereabouts of the Leader’s son,” he said. He stepped aside to reveal another guest.
“Your daughter seems to be the second party that brought on the interference between your machine and mine.”
Kainni’s father could not, absolutely did not want, to believe that he was facing the one he was facing now.
“Pamela, we’ll speak later,” he said, eyeing the Mediator that had unsuccessfully attempted to correct him. She nodded once, curtly before leaving the room with her partner. As soon as he was deserted, Alexander Abbort spoke, an icy smile on his face.
“Patrik Ceiltra. It sure has been a long time. Why don’t we sit down and have a chat?”

Kainni

The next few days passed by uneventfully. Sunday evening, Terra's father had gone to play with the "worship band" at his church. Troy and I had just relaxed in the guest room, while Terra spent time on one of the strange old laptop computers that had once been so popular.
Things looked a lot better with that technology in the future, though her computer had seemed simple enough to use. Regardless, I preferred the ones I had in my time. But it was interesting to observe all the technology of this time.
Though the circumstances here were not the greatest, I wanted to make the best of them. And Mr. Sawyer was a little bit more hospitable than Mrs. Sawyer. I tried not to consider this fact very much, knowing the reasons were most likely not entirely her fault.
Monday, Troy and I were left at home, while Terra was at school, her father at work. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to leave, like we had been able to at Terra's mother's house. It made sense, considering people our age were usually in school. I knew we could have dropped out at our age, which would make sense, considering our elusive "story". I didn't know what the plan for us would be while we stayed here much longer, though Troy had insisted we make a promise to leave as soon as possible.
I wondered, vaguely, how we'd managed to get past the law-keepers that we'd seen in the hospital. It wasn't as though, despite Terra's somewhat telling appearance, either of us looked too similar to her.
Yet after our last visit to Shane on Tuesday, I was left unsure of that fact.
"You guys are all really great. You seem so close," the nurse, Lea, said to us as we took Shane's various things to the exit of the room. I had been forced to carry his crutches for the timebeing, while Mr. Sawyer took one bag of his clothes and other items, which Terra had dropped in the night before, and Troy had another bag, while Terra took the handles of the wheelchair Shane would be using until he recovered enough to use the crutches. I smiled weakly, trying to match her words like we seemed to do. Terra and I hadn't been too fond of each other the past night.
"Are you two sisters, or cousins or something? You really look alike," she said as we started out.
"Uh... cousins," Terra filled in, taking the comment with an odd look on her face. What on earth was she thinking, her expression said.
"Yup, cousins," I said. What a strange thing this nurse would say.
She nodded at us, smiling, before walking over to Shane.
"Now please, don't come back soon," she said to him.
"No promises. But I'll do my best," he replied.
"That's all I'm asking for."
"Ai'ight. Hope not to see you later."
"Good luck, and get well," said the sincere nurse as she walked off to another hospital room.
I didn't understand how someone couldn't be entirely dead serious with a job like this, but, I suppose I wouldn't be able to handle this kind of work without keeping myself a little light at times. And it looked like she really connected with the patients.
Shane just stared at the floor as Terra pushed him out to the car, an old van that had seemed to be collecting dust in Terra's mother's garage, which Mr. Sawyer, who insisted we call him Matt, had driven out earlier this morning. He tried to help himself into the car, though he had needed assistance to do so. Troy helped Terra put the chair into the spacious trunk, taking his seat next to me in the farthest row to the back of the car, while Shane to the middle row, and Terra the passenger seat. We always seemed to assume this kind of organization in the Sawyers' cars. I sighed, staring out the window as we drove along.
Terra had a CD in, a female artist this time, nothing too loud and screeching like she'd pretended to be into on Sunday. The cover of the old thing had a girl wearing a black sweatshirt with a red X on it, the CD itself titled "Under My Skin".
The lyrics that I could make out of the first track didn't seem to be all that positive, but it wasn't like the sound of Red, the screaming, supposedly Christian band on Sunday. I found that I actually liked this song and singer, and put myself to trying to get as much out of the music as I could as we took our otherwise agonizingly silent ride to the house.
It was so strange that someone would think Terra and I would look similar enough to be like sisters. Did we really look that close? I tried to get a better glimpse of her from the backseat, glancing into the rearview mirror, which reflected her face for me. I guess, in spite of my dyed, choppy, hair, green eyes, and ridiculous paleness, and her hazely, green-brown eyes, dark brown hair, and perfectly tanned tone of skin, we looked pretty similar. It was our features, the way our face was shaped, perhaps our heights, maybe the way we even observed things, which might make someone think we were related.
If anything, she still looked more like my mother. Her skin was tanner than mine, her short hair having darkened to only hold a slight twinge of red, more brunette than anything. She was slim and taller, her green eyes the only definite thing we shared. Yet I suppose I still had some resemblance to her. Childhood photos of her on the old meTop album showed me this. When I was young, I had always hoped I’d grow to look like my beautiful mother, though she’d always told me that outward appearances were not what made someone. I had always looked too young, too plain, and too girlish and peppy. I tried not to care, but as I grew older, I did as much as I could to change how I looked. My appearance now more reflected who I thought I was inside.
Regardless, it was impossible to deny the resemblance of Terra and I, and the even eerier semblances to my own mother. I found that I despised these similarities now. Tried as I might have, I could not get these thoughts out of my head. The most likely situation for Troy and I was that we were never going to get back. That neither one of us would be able to accomplish our earlier goals. I didn’t want Troy to succeed at what he’d earlier suggested; I couldn’t bear the thought of not having him here with me, now that we’d found each other again. If he could save his mother without forcing himself out of existence, that would be great. But I could not think straight on that issue, I wasn’t sure how we could do that.
I knew that my goal could be accomplished and still leave the two of us in tact. The ideal would be to save both of our mothers. But I had the feeling the chances for us to do that were very slim. Technology was just not advanced enough to fix our machines, if they were still functional at all. The rainstorm from when we’d arrived probably hadn’t done anything to them in our absence, but the interference must have been really damaging, considering the total blackout on my machine from that day.
We finally arrived at Mr. Sawyer's place, where he removed Terra's CD, handing it back to her as he turned off the vehicle. Terra and her father then exited their seats to unlock the door and assist Shane out of the car again. She retrieved the wheelchair quickly, and Troy climbed over the seats and hopped out the back, motioning for me to follow. I complied, figuring it would be quicker to go out this way anyway due to the circumstances. I found myself having more sympathy for Shane than I had ever had since the day I'd met him. I'd learned soon after I'd judged his ways that he was more than just a jerk; he was a jerk raised by a worse one. It didn't take the blame from him for his actions, but it did explain things a little better. He had a temper, which Terra's own reflected well, but his seemed to take over more, and he had bad habits, and seemed to be a little reckless after these two things took him over.
It almost fit that this would be what brought him down. I felt bad, though, cruel to think that way, but there were consequences to every action. Saturday night he'd been running, not wanting to get caught for what he'd seen and what he'd done, and then he was anyway.
I looked at the sky, and saw the cloud cover thickening like it had the day we'd came. It heavier than it had then, these four days here threatening to ruin the mood I'd once had. I had to make the best of this, I reminded myself. I would not give up hope. We still had a chance, even if it was a slim one, to get back to where we needed to be. We could still manage.
Troy had the crutches this time as we followed half the Sawyers and Shane into the living room. Terra's father had set it up so that Shane had the first level guest room, which would be easier accessible for him, and forced Terra to share her room with me. Troy kept the living room couch. He didn't seem to mind. Terra had silently fumed over the move, not wanting to outwardly complain to her father much more, and she knew it would be necessary for the arrangement, at least for a while.
As she went in to help her boyfriend get situated, to which her father had supervised, I made my way to Terra's bedroom, seeing my new space on her no longer cluttered, honey colored wood floor. Her room was set with less personal decor that the room at her mother's house, one wall painted deep red, the other painted black. There were a couple of old posters of the girl that had been on the CD cover on her wall, and some of unidentified rock-looking bands. I set my meager lack of belongings (clothes borrowed from Terra) on the floor next to the sleeping bag, thinking that Troy's idea to leave soon was not such a bad one.
Her old-fashioned radio played quietly in the background, playing some obnoxious rap song, and I scanned her walls for anything interesting. Searching her drawers would have made me feel, appropriately, like a complete stalker, so I avoided that. There were, however, turned down picture frames. I lifted a frame on her dresser gently, peering beneath it, catching a glimpse of a collage of tiny photographs of her family. I flipped it up to see more.
There were some of her and her parents when she was very young, one that looked to be cut out of a directory for something, and one from maybe a couple of years ago. There was one that seemed to be taken by another relative, where the young family made silly faces on the camera. All of these photographs surrounded one central, large one, what appeared to be the most recent picture, with her and her parents smiling at the camera, though it looked like they were trying too hard. Her mother looked much more tired, much less vibrant, than she had in some of the earlier pictures, her father looked like he'd lost his ability to make a sincere smile, and it looked like Terra was simply struggling to keep it together.
I cautiously began putting down the photograph, when Terra opened the door soundlessly, startling me. She had her arms crossed, glaring at me bitterly. She snatched the frame off her dresser, stashing it into the first drawer, nearly hitting me with the drawer in the ribs, for a second revealing many other hidden objects like the frame beneath a skimpy cover of bras, t-shirts, and tank tops.
"If you don't want to live in the hallway, then don't touch my stuff," she said, turning off her obnoxious radio and pulling out an MP3 player, or, at least that's what I thought it was, and plugging in her damaging earbud head phones. I glared back at her, disliking being reprimanded, yet I knew she had reason to be upset. She had been much kinder at her mother's house... but I suppose this kind of stress could do this to someone.
Terra pulled out the book from earlier, her music up loud enough for me to hear the muffled sound of another female-led band or artist blasting out of her headphones. I glanced at another poster, seeing a band with an orange-headed female surrounded by three guys, all of them making some sort of silly face. I wondered if that band was the same one as the one she was listening to, though it didn't matter much.
How had she gotten that book from me? Well... it was hers. Or the library's anyway. She devoured each page quickly, having her full attention on the book and her music, like I wasn't even there. Well, I suppose it was alright with me. I could just head down to Troy now anyway... we hadn't spoken since we had gotten back. I stood, taking one more glance at the room, the photograph and the silent Terra imprinted on my mind, as I started downstairs. And then it clicked.
What if Terra really was related to my mother? What if I somehow managed to save my mother through her? It was entirely far-fetched, and it would take forever for the impact to really happen, but was it not possible? I entertained the idea in my head, excited by the possibilities, as far-fetched as they were.
Troy was in the kitchen with Mr. Sawyer, the two of them talking about some stuff I couldn't catch too well, and I assumed Shane was resting in the guest room. I continued downward, taking a turn into the kitchen, knocking on the wall as I came in.
The two stopped talking for a moment.
"Oh, hey Kainni. Sorry if Terra's not being the kindest about the new arrangements. She doesn't always take too kindly to this kind of thing," he said.
"It's fine. She seemed to be doing fine earlier," I lied.
"Well, that's good. It was nice of her to take you guys in the other night... I'm sorry about all this, I wouldn't mind letting you guys stay for a while longer_"
"No, Matt, we just couldn't," Troy interrupted. "You and your daughter have just been so generous to us, and we should really be on our way..." said Troy.
"I just don't want to have you kids be out there on your own. Don't worry about it."
"Thank you, Matt, but we wouldn't want to be anymore trouble. You have Terra and Shane to worry about and we wouldn't want to be a burden," Troy interrupted again. Why was he in such a hurry to leave?
Mr. Sawyer sighed. "Alright, alright. If you insist. But you guys can stay as long as you need."
A sound started coming out of nowhere, some loud, yet positive, song came on, and he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket.
"Hello? Oh, hi, hon...Yes, they're still here..."
He put his finger up in a "one minute" motion, as he headed up the stairs, nodding and talking. I glanced over at Troy, who seemed to be deep in thought, as he stared at the table.
“Hey,” I said to him, sliding my arm around his shoulders. He made a weak attempt to smile at me, though I could see he was in a rather serious mood.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked gently, staring into his deep blue eyes. He didn’t answer, pulling away from me gradually and staring at the table.
“Oh... nothing. Nothing important,” he replied, omitting his thoughts from his response. I knew he was lying. And every thought of his had become important the moment I remembered we were best friends. Which I realized now, was kind of strange. How could someone so intimately involved in my childhood be wiped almost entirely from my memory until the day I left home for the past?
“Troy, is something wrong?” I asked, curiously, trying to put away my own thoughts for the moment. He was beginning to worry me.
“No, no... nothing’s wrong...” he replied, absentmindedly, waving his hand like he was physically dismissing the notion. It seemed like he was telling the truth this time. But whatever was on his name, must have been fairly serious. I sighed, beginning to get frustrated at his lack of speaking. We’d gotten to know each other fairly well over these past four days, taking our earlier romance a little slower, and I couldn’t understand why he would want to keep anything, significant or not, from me.
My glance got sharper, before I crossed my arms, and turned away from him.
“I was... I was just thinking about how to fix the machines, Kainni,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. He didn’t like when I looked even the slightest bit upset with him. I suppose manipulating him wasn’t the kindest thing to do, but I wanted to know what was so important that he would... keep it from me.
“What do you mean, exactly, Troy?” I prodded, not wanting him to confirm what I found myself suspecting of him.
“Well... as much as this place has grown on me, I just don’t... It’s great here, safe, but we can’t keep putting a burden on this family, Kainni. And... I can’t just leave my mother there like she is. I can’t let her... I can’t let her... go the way she did.”
I stared at him, unable to conceal the shock and hurt on my face.
“Troy, I thought we talked about this... I... There has to be a way, if we can even get those things to work, that doesn’t...”
“There is no other way. Kainni... you don’t understand...”
“You can’t do that, Troy, you can’t just go and erase your birth, you can’t just...”
“Sh... keep it down,” he said, motioning for me to lower my voice, as he did his. I did, staring at him, my arms still crossed. I would not let him do that. No matter what, I would not let him erase his birth.
“Kainni... soon after she married him, he started working on something for the government. His father, who had climbed up in the ranks, was working very close to the president, and pulling tons of strings, to get his son to where... where he is now. The project my father was working on gave him lots of knowledge and information for an invention his father had given him plans for a long time ago.”
Troy’s voice grew quieter.
“He was making the chips, Kainni. He was learning methods of hypnotism, he worked on these things all the way until the leaders’ terms before him ran out. His father had cleared the way for him to make the world he was making now,” he said, swallowing.
“But the important thing is, she was the first... to... to be... brainwashed, basically. It didn’t always work, but that’s the point. She was the lab rat, and if I don’t stop her from being involved with him before that, then there’s no point. She’ll be done for, Kainni. If I can do something about it, I won’t let it happen. I can’t let it happen,” Troy said, his voice having diminished to a whisper.
I felt my heart racing with a thousand shades of horror and anger and pain, feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me, and I simply could not catch my breath to respond.
“Hey, guys,” said Mr. Sawyer as he returned from his phone call. I tried to compose myself as quickly as possible, turning to face the direction from where he was coming from, away from Troy.
“We’ve had a change of plans... if... it’s alright with you guys.”
Troy and I silently urged him to continue, nodding.
“Alright, well, my wife offered to take one of you back at her house, and...” he paused, his gaze having landed on me. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go stay with her for a while, Kainni. You don’t have to go, she just offered_”
“Please, go Kainni,” Terra cut in, as she sauntered down the stairs. Her father looked at her, not pleased with her desperate, unkind tone.
“I mean... I don’t mind, you don’t have to go, but... I mean, it’s hard on us, this is a crowded place, and...”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I snapped. “I can see when I’m not wanted.”
“Kainni, that’s not what I meant,” said Mr. Sawyer. “Of course we want you here, it’s only an offer, and_”
“Kainni, I don’t care. Just try to understand, we’re all stressed here, and...” Terra blurted. I glanced over at Troy, then at Terra on the stairs, Mr. Sawyer standing near us. I recalled, they could all be my relatives. And Troy, if I wasn’t here, I could easily lose him again.
“I... I think I’ll stay... if that’s okay,” I spoke up.
“I’ll go,” Troy offered, immediately afterward. I gaped at him, trying to catch my breath again.
Nobody protested, but it looked like “Matt” had a combination of some strange concern and relief on his face. He might not have said it, but I could see he’d been feeling a lot of pressure with these three new guests here. But Troy couldn’t go... there was no telling what he’d do to get one of our machines fixed.
“I guess I’ll call my wife about this alteration... you really don’t have to go if you don’t want to Troy, I’m sure we could...” started Mr. Sawyer.
“No, really, I want to go. It’s alright,” he said.
“It’s your choice.”
“I want to go,” he repeated, firm on his decision. I couldn’t believe he was doing this.
“Alright, well, I’ll get the okay from my wife about the changes,” Terra’s father said, pushing one key on his phone to dial her up.
I forced my gaze to stay on the floor, unable to look at Troy as he gathered the clothes he’d been lent into a bag on the floor by the couch. How could he do this? It wasn’t betrayal, I tried to tell myself. He just wanted to finish what he’d started. But I could not let this happen. As much as I wanted him to have what he wanted, as much as I wanted to let my mother’s best friend be saved, I couldn’t let him do it this way. And I had my own mother to save. No, it couldn’t go this way. But he still packed, and Mr. Sawyer finished his call, and he got his keys, and headed for his car...and Troy followed. I wanted to run, to step in front of him, force him not to go, knowing what his purpose was. But all I did was stand there pathetically and watch him leave.