Foray to the Future: Chapter 4

4

            Nathan thought all night about what Officer Denorus told him: “reported missing 20 August 2012.” Uncertainties about temporal paradoxes had him worried; since he was still reported missing in the past, did that mean that Nathan would not be able to leave the future? Does that mean that at no point in the future could he travel back to his own time? Or, alternatively, could he go back and live a comparatively normal life, changing how he was painted by the past? Nathan’s understanding of temporal mechanics was only as good as the science fiction he read in books and watched on television. Implausible theories and ridiculous fantasies of time travel all danced around like sensuous women in his mind; they all seemed so close and available, but he knew them to only tease his fancy. More and more theories emerged, one more ridiculous than the next, until his eyes slowly fluttered and he fell asleep.

Nathan awoke the next morning, though he would have preferred to remain in his calming imagination. He had dreamed that Mr. and Mrs. Gene were sorrowfully watching a news report about his mysterious disappearance, and then eagerly joined up with Henry Berringer to comb through the miles of highway Nathan had traversed. Henry seemed miserable; his face was bloated and his eyes were red, as if he had been crying the entire night. They walked through all the vast cornfields until they finally found Nathan, asleep in a small patch of downed corn. Everyone was overjoyed, even Henry;  and Mr. and Mrs. Gene hugged Nathan so tightly that his head almost popped off, and they all returned home. Henry and Nathan had a long, calm talk, and Henry finally allowed Nathan to find his own way in the world.

            Eventually, Nathan opened his eyes. The images of his dreams slowly faded away, leaving Nathan with a cold, hollow feeling in his chest. He lay there for an hour or so, hoping against hope that he had only been dreaming the unconscionable that had presented itself to him the day before. But, there was his small ward with the ceiling aglow, the large, open window, several doctors wearing their facemasks and skin suits, and five other beds containing five other patients. Nathan could not help but shut all this out, muting the world beyond the limits of his mind, thinking only of a darkness now being experienced by everyone he once knew. It was void of thought or emotion, and simply felt empty, like falling freely forever. The void felt cold, and pulled at him like hooks in his skin.

“Mr. Berringer.” Nathan snapped back to the present. Doctor Baker stood at the foot of Nathan’s bed, looking well rested and holding a silver bowl and spoon. He lacked the white facemask today. The skin around the rest of his face matched his forehead: relatively wrinkle-free. “I present to you the first of your nutrient-infused meals.” He handed the bowl to Nathan. Nathan certainly was hungry, seeing as his last meal had been nearly a day and a half ago. He grabbed the silver dish ravenously from Doctor Baker and was ready to bury his face into it before he looked at the meal itself.

            It was the color of a cloud during rain. There were a few lumps, making the thought of vomit creep perilously into Nathan’s mind. He looked up at Doctor Baker with a slight expression of disgust.

“Really?” Nathan asked. Doctor Baker smirked.

“It does not taste as bad as it looks, though I have no idea how it tastes, so I’m actually lying to you. I assure you though, it’s quite healthy and will enable you to eat anything you wish after you leave here,” replied Doctor Baker. He handed Nathan a spoon. Nathan reached for the spoon slowly, glancing back and forth from his meal to Doctor Baker, half-expecting the gray sludge to come alive and suffocate him. He poked the gray matter a few times with the spoon. It acted like porridge, except it was chunkier and not at all appetizing. Regardless, Nathan was hungry, so he picked up a spoonful, eyed it closely, and hesitantly put it in his mouth.

            It tasted like sour grapes. The taste actually surprised Nathan; he expected it to be as appealing as licking a spoonful of lead paint. It didn’t feel at all desirable in his mouth, but the taste was overwhelming enough so that he ignored the large chunks of stuff that reminded him of stale marshmallows. He swallowed it gratefully, taking spoonful after spoonful until there was no more mush for him to eat. He looked up at Doctor Baker, who stared in disbelief.

“It was actually good?” Doctor Baker asked, shocked.

“My expectations were just exceptionally low,” replied Nathan. He extended the bowl to Doctor Baker.

“More?” asked Doctor Baker.

“Please.”

Doctor Baker took the bowl, went to a small alcove in the wall adjacent to the entrance of the ward, pressed a few buttons, and returned a few seconds later. He handed the bowl to Nathan and Nathan took it eagerly, though his stomach unexpectedly started to grumble. He paused, surprised. He looked to Doctor Baker to help.

“What’s wrong?” asked the Doctor.

“My stomach, it feels upset.”

“Ah, yes, that would be the enzymes and amino acids taking effect on your digestive system. Toilets are out the door, to the right, about fifteen feet down. They will be on your left,” said Doctor Baker nonchalantly. Nathan leapt out of his bed. He felt unsure of whether or not he should run or walk based on the odd gurgling in his stomach, but he knew he should get there fast.

            Fifteen minutes later and after much fumbling with the odd toilets that Nathan would rather not remember, he finally returned to his bed. Doctor Baker stood leaning against the foot of Nathan’s bed, eating some of the mush. He looked up to see Nathan waddling awkwardly towards him with his hand on his backside. The Doctor opened his grinning mouth to say something, but Nathan pre-empted him and said, “No, no, just give me my mush, no comments.”

            Nathan sidled up next to his bed and climbed in awkwardly, issuing a sigh of relief once he laid himself upon it. Doctor Baker handed Nathan the mush, and the disgustingly hilarious cycle continued itself several more times and over the course of two hours. Doctor Baker would break into fits of stifled giggles every time Nathan entered the ward, as he would grasp his buttocks firmly and take each step with the utmost care. Finally, Nathan felt full without having to relieve himself. Doctor Baker pressed some buttons on his wrist bracelet, and a few minutes later, Officers Denorus and Ka’arin entered the ward. Nathan felt his control over his sphincter waver slightly.

            Doctor Baker, seeing the two men, adopted an unexpectedly welcoming disposition. He waved them over to Nathan’s bed.

“Officers, good morning. I hope you slept well and had decent meals. Mr. Berringer here certainly has. I know you have questions, and I certainly shall not impede your questioning process, but if you don’t mind, I will sit next to Mr. Berringer’s bed and provide color commentary where I feel appropriate. Just act as if I’m not here.” He grabbed a white chair from behind Nathan’s bed and sat on the opposite side from where the officers were standing. Nathan had never noticed the chair before; it looked rather like a spoon, except the handle was holding it up.

“Oh, one more thing.” Doctor Baker got up, jogged to the wall alcove, and returned with a bowl of mush. He began eating it and listening intently. Officer Denorus glared at the Doctor. Officer Ka’arin grabbed another chair from behind Nathan’s bed, similar to the Doctor’s, and placed it next to Nathan’s bed, on the opposite side of the Doctor. He sat in the chair calmly, not breaking eye contact with Nathan.

“Well then, Mr. Berringer, we certainly have quite the litany of questions for you to answer, as you can imagine,” gargled Officer Ka’arin, the water over his gills bubbling slightly. He pressed a few buttons on his wrist-bracelet.

“Please state your name for the record.”

Nathan cleared his throat and spoke exceptionally slowly.

“Nay-than Bear-inn-jerr,” a triumphant smile plastered on his face. “Esquire,” he added quickly. Officer Ka’arin squinted at him.

“Please list any educational qualifications you may have, in what area, and from what university.”

“Bachelor’s degrees in Agricultural Engineering, Astronomy, and Physics from the City University of Montana,” Nathan said flatly.

“According to the medical records we received, you appear to be temporally displaced by approximately three thousand years. Now, can you state for us where you were on the night of 15 August 18k243 and how you got there?”

“I was walking on the highway to Helena. I was going to try to catch a train from there to New York,” replied Nathan.

“A what?” asked Officer Denorus. His stolid expression broke to form an awkward curiosity. He almost looked like a dumbfounded child.

“A train. Choo-choo,” replied Nathan, moving his arms in a circular motion. Officer Denorus still gawked at Nathan.

“Old bit of transportation technology,” interjected Doctor Baker. “Please, continue.”

“Anyway,” continued Officer Ka’arin, “why were you going to take this ‘train’ to New York?”

“I left home,” replied Nathan coolly. “Dad and I had a falling out. I decided to leave and live with one of my relatives. Guess I never got that train, eh?”

“Right. Now, where did you get the ancient technologies that were found on your person?” asked Officer Ka’arin.

“I bought the telescope myself. 2004, I believe it was. My parents gave the phone to me when I was in college, 2008, I think. Damn thing barely worked anyway. I don’t know what other technology there is, unless you count the lunchbox and my underwear as ‘ancient technologies’,” said Nathan.

“We do not,” gurgled Officer Ka’arin. “Please describe how you arrived where we found you.”

            Nathan gave an exasperated sigh and recounted the strange buzzing he heard, the crack in space, how it threw him back, the blue portal, and his arrival to what seemed like the exact same place he had just left.

“Fascinating,” said Officer Ka’arin, his deep gurgling voice getting lighter. “Tell us more about this portal. Be very detailed.”

“It was…blue. It swirled with different bits of color, kind of like different bits of paint going down a drain. When I touched it, well, when my hand went through it, it felt cold. Not terribly freezing, but almost like a slight breeze in autumn. When I passed through it, I just felt the same cold feeling, nothing different.”

“And that crack, tell me again about it. Describe it in detail.” Officer Ka’arin looked at Nathan intently.

“Well,” Nathan started, “it was a crack. And it glowed. You know, take a hammer to a bit of wood or punch a window or something and it’ll look like that, though I suppose it won’t really look like a window because glass gets all spider-webby, so, actually forget I said that. That was just plain wrong of me; I apologize. But it did glow.

“Anyway, it kind of had a front and back, because when I went around it, there was no crack. It also buzzed like it was a beehive, and it got louder the closer I got to it. I could also feel some kind of warm, radiating energy from it, which kind of freaked me out, but at the same time, it was cold, so I didn’t much mind about that. So, because I’m an idiot, I decided to touch it, and then it threw me back like a hot potato.”

“Hm,” remarked Officer Denorus. Nathan had almost forgotten the statue was there.

“Oh, you’re here!” cried Nathan.

“Do the words ‘Silens Terra’ mean anything to you?” interjected Officer Ka’arin quickly. Nathan turned back to Officer Ka’arin.

“Sounds Latin. I think it means ‘Silent Earth,’ if language class taught me anything. What does that have to with me?” replied Nathan.

“Everything,” growled Officer Denorus. He seemed to have tired of the casual line of questions. “You seemed offended by my partner yesterday. Do human-alien hybrids disgust you? Do non-humans on this planet offend you? What are your plans for the upcoming election? Who are your co-conspirators? DO NOT LIE TO ME!” His eyes and tone were accusatory, staring unblinkingly at Nathan. Some spittle flew out of Officer Denorus’ mouth.

“I’ve just never seen one before. Kind of wish I had gills, I can’t swim.” Nathan then turned to Officer Ka’arin. “Do you have webbed feet too?” he asked, excited.

“My feet are actually three-toed fins, though they are too small to be counted as full-fledged Pompilian. I am a pretty good swimmer though,” remarked Officer Ka’arin with a relaxed tone.

“That’s so cool,” said Nathan, impressed. “Whenever I got into a pool, I’d sink to the bottom like a big ol’ lead weight. Nearly drowned once or twice.”

Officer Ka’arin continued.

“Anyway, not to get off-topic, and I’ll make this the last question,” at which Officer Denorus scoffed, “but have you ever experimented with temporal singularities or any kind of temporal or spatial distortion technology at any point in the past?”

Nathan looked at him, slightly bewildered.

“Not unless you count that time I made a clock powered by a potato for science class. Proud moment, that was, until it stopped working about ten minutes into my presentation.”

Doctor Baker gave a hearty guffaw at this, dribbling some mush down his uniform. The stains were absorbed by his clothing, which made them shrink like evaporating puddles.

“Sorry, it was funny,” said Doctor Baker, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“Well, I think we’re done for now. We are going to consult with our superiors and return within the hour. Thank you for your time, Mr. Berringer.” Officer Ka’arin stood up and turned to face Doctor Baker. “Doctor,” he said, nodding. Doctor Baker nodded in kind, and Officer Ka’arin turned to walk out of the ward. Officer Denorus lingered for a few seconds, his Easter Island-like face looking directly at Nathan. The man seemed to produce no major emotional changes in his face aside from the occasional tic and the ever-growing vein bulging out of the side of his forehead. His face was turning slightly red.

“Tyrian!” yelled Officer Ka’arin from the entrance of the ward. Officer Denorus finally turned away from Nathan and left. Nathan watched both him and his partner leave the ward, then turned to find Doctor Baker chuckling to himself.

“Temporal potato,” he giggled. Nathan giggled a bit too.

After approximately half an hour, the officers returned to the ward. Ka’arin looked nonchalant, though Denorus seemed angrier than usual. His right eye twitched on occasion, giving Nathan the impression that Denorus was trying to be awkwardly suggestive.

“Good news, Mr. Berringer, our superiors have determined that you are not a threat to Earth’s security. You’re free to remain here as long as the good Doctor feels you should stay. However, we do require a tissue sample in order to study the neutrino energy your body seems to have absorbed. Doctor, if you would provide that to us?” asked Officer Ka’arin.

“If Mr. Berringer doesn’t object,” said Doctor Baker. Nathan shook his head. Doctor Baker went to the wall alcove, pressed a few buttons, and returned with a device similar to the small metal peppershaker he used to inject the nanites into Nathan. This time, however, instead of having the peppershaker top, it had something that looked like a miniature bulls-eye on the tip. Doctor Baker was about to press it to Nathan’s neck, but Nathan drew back a little.

“I won’t want to break my skull open after you use that, will I?” asked Nathan, his voice wavering. Doctor Baker gave a short chuckle and pushed it to Nathan’s neck, where it made a sound like air expelling. It felt like a light pinch and it took less than a second. Nathan rubbed the area, amazed that he was still conscious after having some tissue removed. Doctor Baker handed the object to Officer Ka’arin, who deposited it in a hip pocket that did not exist before. The clothing continually surprised Nathan.

“Mr. Berringer, as you seemingly have no other place to reside, the Office of Vocational Placement and Aid has offered to give you a certification test. You say you already attended a school of higher learning and we will try to find your educational records. You’re going to need to take a certification test in order for the Office to gauge your aptitude for learning and comprehension of basic modern mathematical principles. There will not be a history portion, for obvious reasons, so it will be mainly mathematics. Luckily, basic mathematical principles have not drastically changed in the past few millennia, so calculus is still calculus. We can have the test ready within forty-five minutes, give or take. Do you agree to take it?” asked Officer Ka’arin.

“I suppose I have no choice, eh? I’m curious though, how come you’re so nonchalant about the mysterious boy from the past who appeared out of thin air, and is apparently three thousand years out of time?” asked Nathan incisively. The question had been residing in the back of his mind, finally making it onto his tongue. Officer Denorus seemed to want to answer, the vein in his forehead bulging, but instead Officer Ka’arin sighed.

“The fact is, we don’t quite know what to do with you. Something like this didn’t happen even before the temporal testing ban. We’ve got a million and one people running around back at the Defense and the Security offices, attempting to find out exactly what is going on. There have been requisition orders to incarcerate you, isolate you, dissect you, and question you thoroughly, though that would only happen if we found you were a…” Officer Ka’arin paused, thinking over his next words. “Anyway, you have your doctor here to thank for the unreasonably casual way you’ve been treated since your arrival. Thankfully, someone knows military law better than the military does.” Doctor Baker gave a clever smirk, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Well then, we will go to get your examination. I should let you know that, based on your performance on the examination, an acclimation officer will be assigned to you to help you become accustomed to our society.” Both officers turned to leave, but another question tumbled out of Nathan’s mouth.

“How did you know where to find me?” The officers stopped in place, and even Doctor Baker stood up straight. Officer Denorus, surprisingly, turned to answer.

“The terrestrial monitoring center picked up erratic neutrino readings in your location. We were dispatched to find out what they were,” he said in a very straightforward manner.

“What did you find?” asked Nathan.

“Not what we wanted,” answered Officer Denorus simply and sternly, who then walked out of the ward with Officer Ka’arin. Doctor Baker, after being satisfied about the officers’ temporary departure, lifted himself off the wall.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that I have other patients to whom I must attend. Good luck on your examination, Mr. Berringer.” Doctor Baker gave a nod.

“You can call me Nathan,” Nathan blurted out.

“Very well, Nathan. Don’t get too bored while you wait for your exam, and don’t leave the ward, please.” With that, Doctor Baker left the door-less exit.

            Much of the next half-hour was comprised of Nathan twiddling his thumbs, anxious about what a futuristic examination would contain. He could only help but imagine three-dimensional displays, interaction with geometrical shapes holographically projected in the air, or some kind of headset that would beam the examination right into his brain. Much to his chagrin, the officers returned with what looked like a piece of glass about the size of a normal piece of paper. Unlike paper, this piece of glass seemed to have some kind of blinking lights on it.

            Officer Ka’arin handed the glass to Nathan, and then looked at him for a second. Nathan looked down at this glass, unsure of what to make of it. There was his name in red print centered at the top with a little blue square box blinking below it. Beneath that, the glass read, “Examination dispensed on behalf of the Office of Vocational Placement and Aid, Earth, Terran System, subordinate in the Solar Confederation” in smaller red letters.

“Oh, right. Of course, sorry. Put your thumb on the blue box, say your name, and the process will begin. Circle your answer to indicate it is your final one. You can use your finger to write. There’s no time limit,” said Officer Ka’arin. Both officers then sat down in the two chairs next to Nathan’s bed, seemingly ready for an extremely long, drawn out process. Nathan pressed his right thumb to the box, being very gentle so as not to break the glass, though it did not seem very fragile. He spoke his name, and instantly the screen wiped itself. It now read “SECTION 1: SPATIAL GEOMETRY” at the top, and a “Question 1” had appeared beneath it. There was no multiple-choice option, so Nathan would have to work out the entire problem mathematically.

            Nathan worked at a reasonable pace, considering the consequences of his test. He felt that he did quite well on spatial geometry, though he completely flubbed four-dimensional geometry. Unfortunately for him, whenever he got a question wrong, the glass would glow red and would issue a small “beep,” which would prompt a snort from Officer Denorus. Nathan was able to get through geometric calculus with few errors, though he was absolutely dumbfounded by advanced differential geometry. There even came an odd section entitled “preferential symmetry,” which seemed to comprise more aesthetics than mathematics. Once traditional calculus came on, he was able to cruise through it without errors. Finally, and with a sigh of relief, Nathan came to a section on physics. Surprisingly, he faced a good portion of questions on Newtonian physics, and finally questions on relativity, gravitation, particle decay, atomic energy levels, and a plethora of things he knew relatively well. After more sections on astronomy, chemistry, and biology, mostly utilizing equations, he finished. A message appeared on the glass in red, saying, “CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE EXAMINATION. PLEASE FILL OUT THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE.” A new screen appeared, and the first question confused Nathan more than advanced differential geometry: “What is your favorite color?” He looked down the page, and the rest of the questions were all of the same nature, even going so far as to ask his sexual orientation, favorite holiday destination, and favorite day of the week. He wrote in all the answers, the glass flashed green for a second, and then wiped itself, now only a transparent piece of glass.

            Nathan looked up at the officers; Denorus had fallen asleep in his chair, his head slumped over, while Ka’arin seemed to be gradually sliding out of his, his head resting on his hand. He snored a bit, and whenever he did, the water next to his gills bubbled. Nathan cleared his throat.

“Ehem.” The officers didn’t stir. How long had Nathan been at it?

“BANG!” Nathan yelled, and both officers bolted up out of their chairs, looking around for signs of danger. Other patients even looked up at Nathan, who had a large, self-congratulatory grin on his face. After seeing no threats on their lives, both officers looked at Nathan.

“Oh, I’m done.” He handed the glass to Officer Ka’arin, who looked ready to squirt ink, if he had the ability to do so. Officer Denorus looked at his wrist-bracelet.

“Only took you four hours.” Nathan couldn’t tell if he was impressed or snide.

“We’ll send this to the Office and they’ll have the Acclimation Officer here tomorrow. In the meantime, do not leave the hospital grounds, or we may be forced to arrest you. Do you understand?” asked Officer Ka’arin groggily. Nathan raised his hand up to his forehead in a typical military salute.

“Aye, captain!” he said somewhat sardonically. Both officers rolled their eyes and left.

            Once they had gone, Nathan laid himself down in his bed. He stared at the perfectly white ceiling, thinking only of an uncertain life in this unbelievable time. He did not know what he would make of himself, and a sudden realization smacked him in the face: this was exactly what he wanted, but only in concept; a new beginning, a place in which he could make his own life, his fate guided by none other than himself. Of course, it would have been nice to have an understanding family member to take him in.

            Regardless, Nathan felt a bit more content that he had in the morning. His little sardonic barbs at the stone-faced officer had relieved a bit of stress, though not much; he still felt horribly anxious, though he tried not to show it. He looked around at the other patients; they all looked rather surly and stiff. Even their heads were directed forward, though their eyes would constantly dart around the room. There were no doctors around; in fact, aside from Doctor Baker, there hardly ever seemed to be any doctors in the ward, except for very rare instances.

“Hey, you, guy!” yelled Nathan at the man in the bed directly across from him. The man’s tiny eyes focused on Nathan. His black hair was disheveled, and a few days growth of facial hair made him look extraordinarily brusque.

“What are you here for?” asked Nathan. The man grunted loudly as if he were growling.

“Right then,” Nathan mumbled to himself. “Sleep it is.”