A Time Traveller’s Fable - Chapter 3

James

A Time Traveller’s Fable - A novel by Pete Brennan

Chapter 3 - James

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Dinner came and went without incident, as did the evening and lights out. Lily could not have known it was the last night she’d sleep in the orphanage. That she would one night soon miss this hard cot and her smelly room would never have occurred to her. 

In her blissful ignorance to the coming events of the next few days Lily sat on her bed, stared at the ceiling and fiddled with the old Jack of Hearts playing card again. Daydreaming about that day. Wishing she was powerful enough to jump back that far and tell her father not to fall in. To stay at home with her and her mother instead. To lock all the doors and windows and just wait the war out or pack their backs and run for the hills. 

She thought about her powers. She had only ever been able to turn the clock back almost a couple of hours. One hour, fifty-seven minutes and four seconds to be precise. That was her longest jump, at least the longest she had managed whilst taking notice of a working clock in her eye-line. She had only been able to go back a few minutes when her powers first manifested so there had been a lot of improvement with practice over time, but she was still a long way off going back a whole SIX YEARS. 

She thought about her age. She was the normal size and shape of a fifteen year old girl which she thought was strange. She didn't know how much time she had ‘relived’ by jumping back but it had to be many months. Maybe even a year or perhaps even two. Did she physically travel through time or did her consciousness jump back into her old body? She had heard of ‘Empowered Individuals’ with mind control abilities who could apparently ‘possess’ people. Was it too much of a stretch to think she could project her consciousness back through time and ‘possess’ herself?

As she pondered these profound questions in her room she gave little thought to the young boy who lived in the room directly behind her. She certainly could not have known the profound effect that his experiences this evening would have on her life in the next few hours. 

The third floor which Lily lived on was home to children whose powers had not yet manifested. Because Lily could never tell anyone about her powers, she remained here much longer than was normal and was thus much older than any of the other kids on the floor. They slept in rooms that they were told was for their own protection, which was partly true.

These rooms were essentially prison cells designed to contain any manner of powers that the children might manifest. All 6 sides were fireproof, bulletproof, freeze and radiation resistant. The doors were time locked and controlled by security who watched the third floor kids constantly through CCTV Cameras. Lily knew that most of them didn’t work or were dummies planted to keep the kids in line. She was old enough to see through the many fairy tales that the adults told the rest of the impressionable kids on this floor, who were mostly younger than eight. The day shift janitor had told her that only the camera in the main hallway overlooking the elevators was ever really monitored, the rest were either broken or deactivated to conserve power.

The myth of Big Brother watching these kids 24/7 was apparently enough to scare them into obeying the rules. 

The boy who lived next door to Lily was called James. He was a shy and troubled ten year old who had very little memory of the ‘world of before’ but whatever he witnessed when it fell had really messed him up. He almost never spoke to anyone in the orphanage common areas or in school and mostly kept to himself. Most of the time, people almost forgot he was even there at all. 

But that night, James would end up getting plenty of attention, as his powers manifested for the first time. There had never been any way to accurately predict what someone's powers would be before they showed up but if James could have opted out of his, he probably would have. 

Lying in bed that night, close to falling asleep, he heard a voice. Faint and distant at first. He couldn't really make out any words in particular, just mumblings. It alerted him, preventing him from sleeping for a while. As the evening went on the voice came and went, denying him sleep, but everytime it returned it was louder; clearer. 

He started to pick up words. ‘Further [...] Years [...] Go Back’. It was a girl's voice. She sounded older than him. Almost a grown up voice. A teenager, perhaps? Maybe it was that weirdo next door, Lily? Maybe she had stolen a phone off of a security guard and was talking to one of her weirdo school friends?

He wanted to bang on the wall and tell her to shut up but feared she might beat the shit out of him in the cafeteria at breakfast. He tried to block his ears, burying his head under the pillow. No change in volume level. If anything the voice was louder now. More words came through. Half sentences now. ‘Go back’ [...] Before the war [...] Stay with us’. 

James' head was pounding. More voices crept in, getting louder and louder each time. They became deafening. Voices he recognised as his fellow residents of Floor Three. He was certain now. They were so clear. Why were they all shouting? Why did covering his ears do nothing to muffle the sound at all? 

But one voice was always loudest. The teenage girl’s voice. It was obviously the voice of the girl next door; Lily. By now her voice was as loud as his own would be if he was singing at the top of his lungs. Echoing and reverberating around in his head. Not his ears, his mind. With all of the other voices he couldn’t make out everything she was saying but he heard a few things crystal clear, including one phrase that he would never forget. ‘I’m a fucking time traveller’. 

As Lily's voice is finally drowned out by the voices of hundreds of other kids in the building, James loses it. He screamed something close to ‘Shuddup!’ as loud as his lungs could muster, waking up the entire floor, and then he passed out.

He awakens in the infirmary on the ground floor a good while later. After investigating the ruckus, one of the security guards on duty noticed James convulsing in his bed. He had had a seizure, which was not uncommon for kids on the Third Floor, and been brought downstairs for monitoring by the staff doctor. Now, with his vitals stable and the customary sedatives administered to suppress the overwhelming weight of his new powers, he is being questioned by the dean of the orphanage and the doctor in the dean’s personal office.

[Dean] ‘Tell me what happened’, son’.

[James] ‘They were so loud’. 

[Dean] ‘Who was loud?’

[James] ‘The other kids’.

[Dean] ‘They were asleep. None of them were making any noise, James’. 

The dean was obviously very tired and frustrated at this late hour but the law dictates that all institutions document all ‘Manifestations’ accurately and promptly. The ‘Liberator’ is adamant about that. He must know every power as soon as humanly possible so he can decide that person's role in his ‘paradise’ or whatever he is calling it these days. 

[James] ‘They were dreaming. And I heard it all. Every word. Just like I hear yours now.’ 

[Doctor] ‘A ‘Possessor!  ‘I never thought I'd actually meet one.’ 

The dean turned and barked at one of the building’s security guards.

[Dean] ‘Go back to the office’. Send a message to the Palace Police. We have a ten year old male manifesting Possessor abilities. He is currently sedated and docile. Go now! We’ll finish up in here.’

Possessors were a rarity indeed. Most can not actually control people's thoughts; often they could just see, hear or read them. But some of them do have enough innate power within themselves to actually compel others to do things against their wishes. This makes them extremely useful to the Liberator’s cause and he reportedly spares no expense in nurturing them, investing in their development. This was exciting for the dean. If he could convince the state that it is in their best interests for James to remain here in a familiar environment where he can be comfortable, this establishment could be the beneficiary of the Liberator’s support.

The security guard did as he was told and as he left, the dean poured shots of homebrewed vodka in two filthy glass tumblers that he had hidden in his desk . He offered one to the doctor, who declined, shrugged, then combined the two glasses together and downed the disgusting liquor in one go.

[James] ‘She said she was a time traveller’. The boy was barely audible as he spoke and had his chin sheepishly buried in his chest. 

[Dean] ‘I’m sorry James. What did you say?’ 

[James] ‘A Time traveller. Lily! I heard her say, “I’m a fucking time traveller and I'm gonna go back and stop the war. I’m gonna kill the Liberator”’.  

The dean and the doctor gawked with disbelief. A ‘Possessor’ is one thing, but if they could also provide a bonafide ‘Time Traveller’ to the Liberator too, they would be heroes to the government’s cause. The opportunities to climb the social and corporate ladders bounced around in the dean’s mind. ‘Jackpot’, he thought. 

[Next: Chapter 4]