Chapter 1
IN THE first place, please bear in mind that I do not expect you to believe this story. If I had come across this journal, I would hardly believe the words contained within its pages. What you are about to read is an account of what I could coax this infernal machine into showing me. I am still learning the controls and quirks of the machine, having recently discovered it. I will elaborate further upon it as I learn more.
This all started when I came into possession of a damaged time vortex manipulator. A man who appeared to be an older version of myself gave it to me. Him, being me, I believed him to be trustworthy. It was to his credit that, at the time, he was breaking me out of a prison cell.
Any fault in a vortex manipulator would be cause to have the unit removed from service. An incorrect, or corrupted set of coordinates could mean disaster. An ever-moving universe requires exact precision. A lack thereof could leave you floating in deep space while the Sol system advances away from you. Or you could find yourself a spectator as Earth orbits the sun without you. The thought of materializing deep within the Earth crossed my mind with every jump.
Upon encoding the time and space coordinates, I activated the manipulator. Instead of falling by the side of my beloved Delilah, I was falling from a great height on a Tuesday afternoon. Below me lies a forest on the side of a mountain.
As far as incorrect coordinates go, it beats dying in the vacuum of space. Luckily for me, despite it being Tuesday, the brush in the forest was thick. Thick enough that when I passed into the tree line, my descent slowed. My survival became a new and welcome probability, if not unexpected for a Tuesday.
I burst forth from the tree line at a completely different angle than the one I entered. I was thrust into the air at a height that I estimate to be about six meters above the surface of a lake. As I fell, all the ways this could end raced through my mind. My newfound surety of survival went from probable to possible. The lake’s water could be acidic or teeming with hungry aquatic life waiting for a human-sized meal. Or the water could be so shallow that I die on impact.
Then again, a thought occurred to me as I hit the surface of the water. If the man who gave me this faulty manipulator was an older me, then this is all according to plan, and I can’t die. At least not permanent death. My death would create a paradox. I would be dead until someone found my body and removed the manipulator from my wrist. I’d return to life and be sent on my course to one day deliver a faulty vortex manipulator to my younger self. Of course, not this particular manipulator. Reuse the same manipulator in a loop like that, and the uncertainty principle comes into play. My younger self would most likely jump to a sufficiently different location to avoid survival. At least until the manipulator came off his wrist. Unless I am the next younger self. In this case, this was about to be a bad day.
I landed in the water, more or less uninjured. The edge of the lake was at a much greater distance than I’d ever swum before. Reaching the shore, exhausted, I fell onto my back and gasped for air. Lying on my back, I considered my good fortune. Everything that had to work together over the years to create this patch of forest and the lake below. I sat up and looked at where I had entered this new adventure. Instead of the sky I knew, this was a sky the likes of which I had never seen before. A beautiful mix of oranges, purples, and blue hues spread across the sky. Ribbons of aurora borealis wave from one horizon to the other. Turning my attention to the sun, of which I will fail to explain the wonder I beheld. It had expanded to an unbelievable size and burned with a reddish hue. The flames of the sun press up against an invisible barrier that surrounds the entire planet. The barrier keeps the sun’s destructive power at bay and sustains the environment. Without it, life wouldn’t persist here at all.
In the distance, a large city with skyscrapers dwarfed any I had seen before. Giant orbs lined its outskirts. I made my way to the city. Approaching the first orb I came across, I realized that I had underestimated how big they were. Comparing them to skyscrapers had been a gross oversimplification. I entered the lobby of the orb and found it deserted. The evidence of many years—decades—of abandonment was in every corner.
A humanoid being of light, fashioned to have the appearance of a female, appeared by my side. She—for that’s the gender it identified as—called herself a holographic concierge. I learned many things through interacting with her in conversation. It was as easy as it would be with another human being. The orbs were self-sustaining cities. Equipped with shopping centers, restaurants, habitation levels, schools, and recreation areas. Anyone living in an orb would never have to leave the building, except for specific business. Or leisure unusual to the day-to-day life of the average person.
This is about the time that my stomach took over the conversation. It had been a great deal of time since my last meal, and at that time it was one provided by my jailers. I found myself surrounded by shimmering lights, with only darkness in the distance.
A carousel of logos with text in a language I didn’t recognize rose through the darkness and circled me.
My new hologram friend said these were the names and logos of popular restaurants within the orb. I could choose from any I wanted to get a meal. This wasn’t helpful, which I let her know, and the carousel images were replaced with images of dishes that were popular choices from the restaurants previously suggested.
Half the foods I simply didn’t recognize, and the other half were heavily overstated for the occasion. “Can’t I just get a burger?” I believe this was the way I put it before I was enveloped in lights that I could curiously feel on my skin in what I can only describe as a tingle.
I was no longer in the lobby but found myself standing in a modest cafeteria-style room with tables and chairs covered with even more dust than the lobby. A food tray with a plate, fork, and knife materialized on the table in a shimmer of lights, followed by a plate with a hamburger and french fries. A voice from an intercom speaker in the ceiling informed me, “Taste and texture are approximated from memory records.” It didn’t lie; I haven’t had a burger that good since... I can’t remember when.
I called out to the hologram, “I can’t help but notice how empty this place is and all the dust. When was the last time anyone used this room?”
“It has been one million, three hundred seventy-five thousand, six hundred and seventy-nine days since anyone has utilized this particular space.”
“Three, almost four thousand years? Where did everyone go? I haven’t seen any bodies or evidence of a cataclysm.”
“The last remaining inhabitants of Earth were relocated by the National Trust when they took over conservatorship of the planet.”
It was then that I realized just how tired I was, and as I had that thought, my skin started to tingle again. I was enveloped in lights and found myself sitting on a bed with a surprising lack of dust. I laid back and allowed myself to start drifting off, but first I stuck my finger in the air and said, “Concierge, I appreciate the level of service you provide, but my head is off limits moving forward.”
“Understood, David,” she replied.
