The Power of Forgetting

By A M Russell

As Jared Arden searches for his personal truth, others are trying to stop him from finding a way to help defeat their enemy the mysterious Mr Rimmington. Jared tells his side to a story that cannot end well. He meets strangers in the guise of friends, and those who appear to be friends but are just the copy or shell of a person cooked up in a science experiment. Janey is the most dangerous of all. She knows what will happen in the future but cannot tell him. They have both discovered their time travel abilities and Janey takes a daring leap into a distant future world. The only problem; there is no way of escape. what must their friends do without them? Jared realises that the only way is to go back into the past; but he must leave everyone behind. Even his love for Marcia will fade in time, as he begins to understand the power of forgetting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A M Russell
• Release date: Jul 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311416704

A M Russell

I write science fiction novels with themes of time travel and alternate realities. I live in Yorkshire; the middle of Britain. A life long fan of fantasy and science fiction - a geek who has read "Lord of the Rings" several times. My passion writing stories began early on after hearing "The Lion the Witch, and the Wardrobe" at Junior School. I have a persistent curiosity that keeps me writing. It is my passion, my obsession, and the way I keep my mind focused and calm. I have a breakneck speed for writing, but edit much more slowly! I love films, The Time Machine; Matrix Trilogy; Inception; anything that bends the mind. I would love to see one of my creations turned into a film; I explore the world space in my books as if it is a movie. Best thing about writing? Being an Original. Best drink? A nice cup of Yorkshire tea. Best Moment so far: Getting my first book on Smashwords!

Book preview

The Power of

Forgetting

by

A.M.Russell

Copyright © Anne Russell 2016

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Dedication

For Bonnie

An Angel in Disguise

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

The End

One

Is there one day you remember above all others? I'm standing in the rain, waiting. So let me wait to answer that question. I waited for the lights to change, and then crossed. I am finding my way on unfamiliar paths; into the university grounds. The surge of humanity picks me up and guides me to the door.

'You will need to sign in.' a woman is holding a pen out to me. She's looking at me. I think she can see what I'm doing. I see her reaching down. Is it to call security? No. Another pen. This one isn't working.

I sign with the new roller ball. She folds up the tear off strip into a small shape and then passes it to me encased in the small badge holder, plus annoying clip. Better for fastening to girl's bags.

'Mr Arden?' she looks at me without curiosity, 'If you take the lift to the third floor. Then check in with the desk there.'

'The stairs?' I point towards a door with a fair chance of guessing in one the way to the stairwell. She was staring at me as if I was weird.

‘I get sick in lifts.’ I said to explain myself.

‘Oh claustrophobia….’ she says, bored with me already, ‘the stairs are there.’ She pointed at another door on the opposite side of the reception area.

‘No, it’s just motion sickness. You know….when things accelerate without warning.’ But she has moved on to the next human blob, and I am as irrelevant as the sunshine, that is inexplicably filtering through and marking the dusty air in motes of gold.

I bounce up the stairs. It’s always is like this; over-cheery to balance the fear. I wish that there was another way to do this. But we have to find out what he knows. Why me? That’s easy. I’m the only one who knew enough about him to catch him out last time. I have to do something that I don’t want to do. But I have motive… dear Lord; I have motive.

I have a secret that I never tell. Because to tell it would render me crazy in the eyes of the people who are here. I was running from this thing when the project got hold of me. I was looking for somewhere that is safe from the prying eyes of anyone who ever knew me. I was trying to get out…. I found myself almost heir to a whole castle full of secrets. When I was asked (blackmailed more like!) into resigning from the Bank Project board; becoming the nonentity that I wanted to be….I accepted. But freedom has a price. Now; when I close my eyes and hear those whispered voices, I muse that soon I will be free. There was only one place where they did not follow me. I will tell of that later, but now: Hanson, and a matter of unfinished business. I am like Merlin, David tells me. I asked him if he meant the cat. I didn’t think he would find it so funny.

I am waiting for Hanson to get back. He has, he thinks, an advantage over me. Jean has paged him. He knows I'm waiting. But it isn't like before, the naïve country boy with the worldly wise fellow student. Hanson.... He gathered others around him like a King summons his court. He enthrals them with his voice, his persuasion. And he is clever. I never doubted that; he seeks to be the magician (in a manner of speaking); he meditates, and ponders matters of philosophical weight. Yet I, I have a world of secret knowledge that is there; has always been there.... I never told Hanson, but it is as if he senses, as if he sniffs the air and scents the blood of the crime scene. I am innocent. So why was I drawn to a man who makes me feel so guilty? He drew us all: Me, Jules Rosen, Juliet Penn, Sam Wright.... And many others. It is like breaking a bad habit... leaving Hanson behind. But I just got trapped it seemed in a nightmare of my own making. He was the other one I knew, who had been part of that same circle, who met again for the Sandglass project. And everything that he had taken he took again. But with one difference....no one remembered this time, except a few such as myself. Sandglass was; and still is, a scientific experiment into other possible versions of reality. Of course, I was tempted! Of course, I wanted to see for myself. My sister was on the team of scientists who developed the thing from its first inception, and carried it forward to an actual parallel world. Just a little bit of coastline in England, and we found a new world; a new reality. And I regret so much; yet I found so much. And I hurt deeper inside than even I can see. Because I'm so scared of the power that I might have, and I want to forget. But first I must know what Hanson remembers.

'Hello Jay!' Hanson says firmly yet softly. He beckons me into his office.

'Well?' he settles himself down and produces a cigarillo and that zippo. He offers me one. I hesitate, and then take it. This is another thing that he adopted from me. But when he takes it into himself, it changes. It becomes more his that it ever was yours. And later what you do reminds you of his dominance. I find a lighter in my pocket.

'So you haven't given up then?' Hanson blows a stream of fragrant smoke towards the window behind him. It is as if he is trying to wreath us in flocks of clouds and obscure what is happening.

However, the question is curiously ambivalent. I look at him carefully and clearly for the first time. He is relaxed, unafraid. Why?

'I am here to see if you recall an experiment called Sandglass because I think that you might still be important to the whole thing.'

He is smiling now. I was deliberate in my flattery, and he probably knows this, but he had a weakness that can now still be exploited. The time spent on our curious, and bizarre mission of discovery had not ended Hanson's ability to be as egocentric as possible. And that was even after he had been kidnapped, imprisoned, pumped for information and later drugged and shackled to a chair. He was always able to obscure his real reasons for doing anything.....

He is still smiling and waiting for the right moment to suddenly speak. It is always better to avoid interrupting him. So I remain silent. I am a patient man; when I have to be. I learned to be more than that when I was on the expedition. I think of Davey, he makes me smile. He always does that.... Hanson sees that shift in my expression and clears his throat before speaking. My attention is back on him.

'I'm important?' he paused, 'That is quite a thought coming from you Jay?' he tilts his chin and stabs a finger that isn't curled round the cigarillo in my direction, 'Are you actually going to smoke that?'

I have been holding it. I have my lighter in the other hand. I put them both down on the edge of Hanson's desk.

'I want to know what you remember.' I am trying to keep the tone of rabid curiosity out of my voice.

'I remember....' he seems troubled then, '...a lot of things. I know you want to ask me something that pertains more to your own situation. So I will answer you.' he stares upwards. Unusually he seems worried; a strange kind of expression. It is like Hanson I knew when I first met him. I ignore the discomforting feeling that it's giving me and take the opportunity presented.

'When did you first know Janey Amber?' I asked and waited.

'Right after you did Jay. And before the last time,' he stared at me. A new expression, he continued with a surprisingly sensitive tone, 'You are the darkest person I know Jay. I can't fathom you at all. And as for Marcia, she came to me; in the cafeteria right here in the University. But the minute she saw you.... She was disappearing from me faster than one of her chocolate fudge cakes. She's actually crazier than you are! Well, I suppose she is. She wants to trawl through that dark forest that is your subconscious and find the buried treasure.'

I was biting my lip then. He has pressed my buttons. And I knew that what he said was true.... I looked up. He's looking at me in a worried way. Was it a new ploy to undermine me? I'd known him a long time. But this wasn't a tack he'd tried before with me. I reasoned it was probably one that worked better with the women he seduced. Perhaps he thought he'd try it on me. And it was bloody well working!

'Did Marcia say it was over?' I asked him.

'Yes....' he shifted in his seat, 'Surprisingly she was reasonable and rational about it. She explained that she couldn't be true to herself while she stayed with me. She said.... She appreciated my; well...' he fell silent and there it was again that worried look.

'Tell me' I said.

'She likes... Some aspects of my err... Well; she said I had some good points.'

'Marcia is majoring on finding people's good points.' I said.

'That's why it must be something exceptional with you.' Hanson assumed his normal confident manner here, 'I think she wants to save you.'

'She is certainly quite decided about wanting me around.' I'm testing him now. I want him to deny it. I want him to feel it. And then a second later I'm feeling guilty for wanting to punish him for stealing opportunities from me in the past.

'Marcia is....' he stubs out the remains of the smoke, '....the only One Hundred per cent truly good person that has ever been my misfortune to cross paths with. I hope she doesn't make you crazier than you clearly already are.'

‘You actually think I’m mad?’ Hanson is beginning to irritate me. And it’s getting me away from the point of what I need to find out.

‘It’s not what I think that really matters….’ He sounds oddly apologetic, but with an undercut of sarcasm that makes the whole thing much more chilling.

‘What do you mean?’ I said getting drawn in, despite my earlier resolve not to do so.

He doesn’t answer, but instead gets something out of a drawer. He slides it across the desk to me. It is a memory stick inside a small plastic pouch. He’s seeing my reaction. Seeing if I get it straight away. I feel slow. I’m trying to force my mind back to the point. I pick up the memory stick in its little wrapper.

‘It is for you.’ he said eventually, ‘I have to say that this was one of the aspects of the job that proved to the most useful for my own research.'

‘It's about all the team?' I asked, feeling the available oxygen in the room being sucked out.

'No,' he grins, 'just you. You certainly have some interesting hang-ups. I really pity Marcia.'

'But how?' my own voice sounds dangerously low and gravelly, 'Those files were supposed to be confidential.'

'They still are. I know that a lot of information has been.... well, forgotten. But I tried to retrieve what I could while I still had access.'

'But who else...?' I feel the words jam down inside my chest somewhere.

'No-one. Why are you concerned? The conspiracy theorists haven't got to them. You ought to be grateful that someone thought to clear the hard drives before we left.'

'You mean before we went on the last expedition?!' I thought of Marcia's printouts; I didn't need to look further to see the rationale for what he had done; it would be coming back to snap me in the shins. I slumped a little in the chair.

‘I do have some others,’ he said, ‘but, as I am not disposed to trust someone such as you to get them to their respective owners, I will have to contact each person individually.’

‘You read them?’ I asked him. I felt exposed. Especially since I wasn’t sure what I had told the person who did the assessment before we left on that last day at Base. It wasn’t Dr Rhodes…. So I supposed that the records must have been kept on the main drive and not the other. I remembered that Violette was quite careful what she uploaded…. So what the hell had Hanson actually got on me? Whatever it was he’d achieved quite neatly what I supposed he wanted, to disarm me. I waited to see what he would do now. Then there was only one thing I could do. I would choose my moment carefully.

‘There is something that I want to tell you. A secret that I know has frustrated your beloved Janey for a long time.’

‘Oh?’ I felt it couldn’t get really any more disheartening, and I was not in the mood for other mysteries.

‘The missing cord… you remember what happened.’

‘Yes?’ I sit up straighter again.

‘I know who took it.’

‘You know.’

‘Yes.’

‘You do?’ I couldn’t think of a more unlikely person to find it out.

‘I know who did it. And I know why.’

‘Okay…’ I was acting casual now. I pocketed the USB stick and stared at him. I was trying to find out if he’s lying. He’s pretending not to trust me. He knew that I would not take something for another person and open it, if I had been asked not to look. Perhaps he didn’t like the fact that I do have an honest side. But one side it is. He’s close enough on the rest to subdue me.

‘I know… Who, Why, How; and I can tell you something else as well: about another project from the Bank Collective.’

‘Is that what they’re calling it now?’

‘It is better than a lot of other names that were suggested.’

‘Who suggested them?’

‘You know I won’t tell you that.’ he said brusquely.

‘So what did you want to say?’ I think I’m glaring just a little too intensely. Hanson looks away. But it’s only to get a file from a drawer. He drops it in front of me.

‘This is worth far more than you can imagine.’ said Hanson heavily.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I can imagine quite a lot.’ I shifted in the chair ready to move, ‘But you do know that.’

‘I think you’re a very paranoid individual whose flights of fancy have often got the better of you.’ he lowered his voice, and said in a whisper, ‘there are other experiments in progress…. I am very important to one in particular…’

‘So of course,’ I said, as I got his drift, ‘if I said anything about it; you’d just refer to the psychiatrist’s report, to get whoever it was to not believe a word I said?’

‘You are smart.’ said Hanson smugly, ‘I will concede on that point. But of course…’

‘What is it?’ I asked him, beginning to push myself out of the seat, ‘Are you afraid of the crazy guy now?’

‘Those are your words.’ he said confidently, ‘I never said anything about it. I just refer to the report.’

‘Which was written by?’

‘The most respected scientist in the outfit.’

I’m shaking my head to clear the vision of sitting in that room, pouring out all that stuff. I was not intending that any of this should be used against me. I felt a sense of injustice that was getting stronger by the minute. There was just one thing left to ask. But Hanson had got in there first: ‘You have to read it of course. I can’t give you a copy of that. It really is confidential!’

‘I’m honoured Hanson….that you should regard me as a fit person to view this. After all you don’t want it to get into the hands of any sane people. They might do something useful with it… like cure some terrible disease, or stop bombs from exploding.’

‘That’s just silly,’ Hanson said, ‘I have been part of this long enough to prove that it works. I mean really works!’

‘What does?’

‘I can see through different eyes at the same time. It just takes a little time to get used to. And then it’s alright.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘It’s all in the file.’

‘I’d much rather you told me.’

‘Tell you what?’ He reaches for another smoke and lights it straight away.

‘Who took the rope… and who is taking over the experiment.’

‘I think you’re confused.’ Hanson said, ‘No one is taking over anything. That was never on the cards. I think you suddenly resigning from the Main Board was rather abrupt though. What do you know? No… wait; don’t answer that.’

‘I want you to tell me who took the cord?’

‘If I tell you that; then you tell me what you know.’

‘You want to ask me what I know.’ I said surprised. This wasn’t keeping the distance in quite the right way, ‘what do you want to know?’

‘Just who has taken the samples from the expedition? Just that…. Then you can know everything… I meant it Jared… I really do!’ he leans forward searching my face. This again is unexpected. There is something inordinately unsettling about his manner. It’s as if he’s had part of his personality expanded, while another part has contracted. I feel queasy… always a bad sign. I know that feeling; nothing to do with anything I’ve eaten.

‘Do you have anything to drink?’ I asked.

Hanson reached immediately into the deep drawer of his desk. He produced two glasses and a bottle of vodka, Russian of course. He pushed the small glass over to me. A moment and the curling fire stills that tremble inside. I stare at the window. It’s clouding over again.

‘I have no knowledge of what happened to the samples,’ I said simply, ‘I wasn’t with the rest of them.’

‘Of course…’ Hanson sips and then traces his finger around the rim of the glass, ‘but I suppose you might say that, if you knew who did know; and you weren’t disposed to recall that fact.’

‘I really wasn’t there. I was…. I was….’ I take another sip.

‘Got to watch that Jared…. could be difficult to find yourself on the other side of some parallel world.’

I breathed in sharply then. How could he know? I stared at the light and the thin black cigarette in the edge of the wooden surface. A lecturer’s desk, I remind myself. All those eager young minds, ready to receive a lasting impression will be fed from the man who spreads his secrets on this desk. And I was one once… I was that snow field, marked with no foot print.

‘You are familiar with the experience. And I know that you have experienced first-hand the crossing of reality. That jump back into one’s self. It is true isn’t it? You did this without drugs…. Without any kind of scientific interference….’ Hanson’s voice became lower, softer, and more persuasive, ‘We want to know how you did it; and perhaps a little information on the samples would be helpful too. Then you can have the thing you most desire. That way out you want so desperately.’ He was in control now. He was offering me an end to the torment…. And even if he was part of the reason why it had been so wide and so deep… I still felt that pull; that willingness to accept the credibility of the notion that Hanson held my answer in the palm of his hand.

‘What possible guarantees have I, that this isn’t just a trick?’

‘Read the first two pages, and then you tell me.’ he pushed the file into my hands.

I flicked it open and scanned down the sheets. I looked back at him. I picked up the cigarette and clicked a flame from the slim red disposable. Hanson looks nonplussed. I pulled the ash tray towards me and tap the first flakes in. I feel that slight buzz; just a hint, and the thin white ribbon of smoke curls around me like the spell from a magician’s wand.

‘Well?’ He clears his throat rather unnecessarily, and frowning holds out his hand for the file. I glanced back down at it again. The ability to speed read is never lost and I’ve been scanning the pages while he was distracted by the cloud of tobacco fug.

‘It’s not a very safe thing to do is it? Keeping a portable transmitter on a person?’

‘You got to that bit?’

‘Of course,’ I was flicking through a little bit more, as he leaned forward.

‘The file please,’ he said firmly, ‘I really need to get on. There is only half an hour to the next lecture.’

‘I’m sure they’ll wait,’ I glanced at the clock as I held out the closed folder. Quarter past Ten. Hanson takes hold of it. And at that moment I moved… springing out of the chair and slamming my other hand down on his left hand as he reaches across the desk. I slid across the corner and with the small pen delivered the shot into his shoulder… high up near the neck.

He reacted by reaching back and grabbing me with his right hand, and twisting out of the chair into the same swift movement. I end up sitting on the floor, with Hanson crouched over me. He was growling like a dog and his chest was heaving with anger and shock. I felt the weight of his whole body on my shoulders. He prized the pen from my hand. I let him take control. The drug will be swift and effective. Two minutes.

He released me and slumped on the floor. I edged away from him; I’m breathing rather quickly myself. I look at the clock. It will only last ten minutes at full intensity, and leave the system within the next five. The chemistry of it is activated as soon as it goes into the body. There’s some relaxant in there as well. It helps the subject be much more compliant. I can see it’s working….time to hear the truth.

‘I’m going to ask you some questions Andrew, do you understand?’

‘Yes…’ he looks at me surprised.

‘You will answer briefly and clearly.’

‘Yes.’

‘The first is this: Who do you work for in the Bank Collective?’

‘The Circle of Five.’

‘Who are they?’

‘Alexander Rimmington; August Charles; Ira Shore; Io Ream; and John Briar.’

‘Who is in charge of these five?’

‘Ira Shore.’

‘Do they act with the knowledge of the Board?’

‘No.’

‘Do some of the Board know what they are doing?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who knows?’

‘I do, and Janey Amber.’

‘What?’ I am startled, but must make use of the time I have…. It could be part of the parallel.

‘We pass messages to them.’

‘Does Janey Amber know she is doing this?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘A suggestion planted.’

‘Who else?’

‘I……’

‘Who else has a suggestion planted in their mind?’ I look at the clock again.

Hanson looks as if he’s trying to get the words out, but something is stopping him. It must be him. I try the next.

‘Forget that question. Tell me about the Warren project.’

‘I’m one of the test subjects.’

‘How many test subjects?’

‘Twelve.’

‘Name them.’

‘I don’t know who they are.’

‘Very well. Show me the portable generator.’

He lifts his shirt. There it was; a little flattish black block strapped in a band around the torso, at just about the natural waistline.

‘Is it controlled by a central program?’

‘No. They are all separate.’

‘Does it send a signal back to a central control?’

‘No.’

‘When do you next call in to your control?’

‘On the first of April.’

‘Indeed.’ I try not to smile, ‘When does the experiment run to?’

‘It has no end point.’

‘Does the box have a limited power supply?’

‘Yes.’

‘How long will it last?’

‘Eighteen months.’

‘How long has it been going?’

‘About eight months?’

I looked at the clock again. I could risk a couple more questions, before the answers became unreliable. ‘Did you volunteer?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you remember starting the experiment?’

‘I….err…’

‘What is the earliest memory you have before today?’

‘The Christmas party…. I think you were there too?’ Hanson is starting to come out of it. I’ll have to make this quick.

‘What happened there?

‘I was there. And then the assistant said I should leave. Then….’ He looked at me startled, ‘You punched me!’ he rubbed his jaw as if the memory was still fresh. ‘Why did you do that?’ he asked.

‘Do you remember what you said?’

‘No.’

‘Do you remember anything?’

‘Rimmington asked me to speak.’

‘What did he ask you to do?’

‘To….to….’ Hanson was blinking and shaking his head. I thought I must have gone too far. Eleven minutes after the start point. But I needed to know. It was the only think that mattered.

‘Damn that woman!’ said Hanson vehemently.

‘You mean Lorraine?’

‘Yes. She was doing something…. But I don’t know what.’ he looked up at me, and put his hand up to rub his neck. I didn’t ask him any more questions. A few more minutes and the disorientation would pass. Hanson clambered to his feet and sat back in his chair. He seemed to be trying to say something. As if running through a list. Truth serum, plus a little this, and a little of that…. George was a clever sod! This was one that had a little sting in the tale. In an hour he wouldn’t remember anything that had happened in the room. I would melt away like the ghost I was. I suppose though that there was no accounting for Hanson in the normal sense of the word.

I was about to sit down again, but he grabbed my wrist. ‘I want to know why you hit me Arden.’

‘I hit you,’ I said trying to shake him off, ‘because you insulted me very badly. And frankly you have had it coming for a very long time.’

‘Really?’ he grabbed by left wrist as well. There we were, two combatants locked together. I locked my hands around his forearms too. I wasn’t to be outdone and pulled him to his feet.

‘Lorraine’s a bitch,’ I said, ‘you really ought to avoid her.’

‘That, we do at least agree on.’ He pushed me backwards a couple of steps. Outside it had started to rain.

‘You’re hurting me.’ I said.

‘Can’t handle a little game?’ asked Hanson as I pushed him back.

‘Game? What game?’

‘Oh you don’t what to do what I can do Arden!’

Then I was trying to get him to release me. I felt the burning in my fingertips. It was like rope burn. I could feel that electricity of the tension between two realities. But his wasn’t two. I was falling now. Down and down. I tried to stop it. But he had me, and wouldn’t let go. The room was full of him. Different points in time; and different versions all interacting with each other. It was like Rimmington and his creatures. But this was like being in the nightmare. Hanson’s mental images were rough and undisciplined. I had found that the connection of time impressions was usually met with a rather unpleasant sensation of vertigo. But his was far worse. It was time spinning out of control. I saw Hanson meeting Rimmington… or rather; I saw it through his eyes. Then I saw another Hanson facing him. But I also saw him through his eyes, while looking out through the eyes of the other at the same time. Then another was added, then another; until I was begging Hanson to let go of me.

Suddenly I was aware of the room again. Hanson was sitting back white-faced in his chair; ‘Dear God!’ he said, ‘I’m so sorry Jared…. I never knew. It was awful….’

I saw his ashen-faced shock, and realised that while I had been bombarded with the results of Hanson’s experience in the Warren experiment; he had just taken a shuttle ride through the dark into my mind as well.

We sat there for a minute looking at each other; for the first time, with some real understanding. There, crawling at the edges was the past, all of it. I felt the ache in the left forearm; and realised, as the rain streamed down the windows that I had been much more of a burden to Hanson, than he had ever been to me. I had always had the power to choose. And even if he did, he just didn’t know it, and had ploughed in deeper to the Bank Collective than any sane person ought to do. It was only the fact that he believed himself to be invincible that stopped him from crumpling. I wasn’t gifted with that kind of egocentric capacity. I started to edge from the room. I felt in the pocket to make sure the pen was there. A ghost. I stumbled. Hanson picked me up. ‘Don’t....’ I said weakly; I could feel the boiling of those same separate Andrew Hansons that were walking around in the city somewhere. I was not that kind of person. I was too dark in mood, too intense. Hanson wasn’t without merit for knowing that much. I was sinking. Somehow… I found myself on the other side of the door. Hanson was still in his office. Ten minutes to start to forget…. Come on George. Will it mean I’ll be able to walk out of here?

Jean held out her hand as I crashed into her desk. The floor didn’t feel like it was attached to me. I was lighter that gravity….

‘Jared!’

‘Look Jean… just get me out of here. I have to get home….right now.’

She guided me to the lift in the outer hall, ‘I’ll take you to the first floor. Go out the back door. You’re on ground level there. Just cross the paved area between the two buildings opposite. The bus stop is there.’

‘It’s alright. I’m not far away.’

‘Shall I call you a taxi?’ she asked as I bent over groaning. As soon as the doors were open I headed out of the lift towards the exit.

‘Shall I call the others?’ Jean was being too worried.

‘No. I’m okay.’ I waved at her and skidded through the automatic doors. The fresh air hit me and fat drops of rain, ‘I’ll bloody well walk!’ I muttered. The rain had cleared the place of students. As I got on to the main street I didn’t shock too many of the curious onlookers, so intent were they is getting out of the wet.

It wasn’t so bad. I felt as if I was swimming through the water falling out of the sky. This was like the last time, but with a different cause. Time streams are like taking drugs; they really, really make you sick. Oh; and did I mention crazy as well? I had spent a long time even before I went on the expedition trying to avoid this sort of thing. I have a family that keeps its secrets well. But the one thing that you cannot ignore is your own nature. My sister… my older sister. She can control these streams of time. She is quite adept at it. She warned me that I would find this a problem if I didn’t face who I really was. She was so calm when I got cross about that. Karis is… well just so matter of fact about it all. She doesn’t get upset by things being bizarrely ordered in time and space. She can accept that she lived in a time that was not the one she should have lived in as a child. She is, to all intents and purposes the most perfect example of her kind….

I get to the street with my local shops on them. It’s pouring down now and I’m soaked to the skin. I’m glad of this. Water calms things; it halts things in their tracks. I turn my face upwards into the torrent. But it is quite chilly all the same and being soaked is not any fun at all.

I’m inside at last. It’s still raining. I’m lost in time. I can’t remember getting to the main door and climbing the stairs to my flat. I make a mug of tea. But I’m shaking too much to hold the cup. I sip it stood near the kettle and then go and stand under the shower for ten minutes. It’s a good job my watch is waterproof. Ten to four. I’m wondering what happened to the intervening time.

I had lain down on the seat cushions. I’m dressed in something warm, dry and comfortable. I can’t get it straight in my head what I was supposed to be doing about meeting Marcia. I think she said she was coming here later. It’s all confused. I’ve got a tray now with a whole pot of fresh tea to work down. I feel a little better. I really don’t know what effect this is going to have. I feel warm, yet a bit chilled and rather swimmy in my head. It was truly, even on an objective level, a horrible experience. Being more than one person, at the same time! I have had all on just coping with being one of me. And even so I remember different versions of the same event… perhaps that is why I’m feeling ill and disorientated. I’ve got travel rug that I keep for those times when It’s cold but I can’t sleep. I’ve wrapped it right around me as I watch the rain on the window.

There is a warmth that shifts around into the body and the mind, when things still. In the quiet afternoon the shadows dissipate. Since coming home from the expedition; I’ve stopped going running across the park and carrying on until I’m exhausted; and then to sit and wait for the stillness to come back in. I was partly something Violette said, and Marcia just bluntly announced that I will be doing what I’m supposed to from now on. I wasn’t sure how to take that. Davey didn’t say anything about it. He just asked where I kept the herbs and spices, and decided to invade the kitchen and cook something. He seems to like writing notes out too. Notes to himself I’ve discovered. I find post it type stickers left behind in odd places. And they never make any sense at all. I have gathered them up and given them back to him. Perhaps it’s the hope that someone else’s way of accepting the new world they are faced with is more successful than mine has been. But then again, I always had the same difficulty, so nothing has actually changed; perhaps irrationally I thought it would do.

Someone is here. They must have been let in by another resident. I feel really dire, and stumble to the door, hoping that maybe Marcia has brought some of her ginger drink again.

‘Jared?’ Davey stares at me like he’s seen a ghost, ‘I’ve been calling you. What happened?’

‘I…. do come in. there’s time enough for recriminations later. But I went to see Hanson.’

‘Oh? You did. What did he say?’ Davey never ceases to trouble me with this wide-eyed innocence. I’d thought it was a bit of a front, until I realised he really is like that. But right now I feel strange. He takes hold of me as something slips away. All the colours that drained out of the sky are arguing with me in the room. Yellow and bright green, and pinks that smell like exotic flowers. My vision crowded out with impossible things like Escher’s staircases. I slip downwards; Davey stops me from collapsing into a heap and sits on the floor holding me firmly to stop me from cracking my head against something. My back arches in a sudden rigidity followed by a complete limp dead weight. He rolls me carefully onto my side on the floor as my eyes roll and flicker and consciousness splinters into weird pieces. I dissolve into a cloudy dream.

‘Jared… Jared…’ someone says my name softly. I can’t work out whom. There are still little flutters of over-bright colours trembling in the side aisles waiting to gain some admittance to this world of muted iridescence.

I find myself on the settee and there is a tray on the small table. It has been pulled forward and delightful strands of steam curl from the spout of the pot.

‘I wondered where that teapot had gone.’ I said weakly

‘Glad to see you’re back with us.’ Violette lifts the teapot up and carefully starts to pour. I try to raise myself up, but can’t.

‘What happened?’ I ask her.

‘Perhaps I should say what didn’t happen,’ Violette is looking at me in that way that makes me feel about eight years old. Perhaps that’s why I feel confident she is the right person to deal with all this mess. Violette Rhodes, our personal physician. She is the only one who can treat this type of malady. A rare condition, brought about by mucking about too much with anomalous time distortions. Time Sickness is what we rather uncreatively call it. I know I’ve gone against her, and I think I might be in trouble. She is regarding me with her cool appraising expression.

‘Tell me,’ she said calmly, ‘why did you go and see Mr Hanson? Don’t you know that this was not a good idea?’

‘I had to know…. I needed to know.’ This time I’m up on one elbow and seeing the room from another angle… the upright one.

‘Well, never mind,’ she comes over and rearranges me so I can take the cup she offers, ‘You are very much advised to not do that sort of thing again. I am most….concerned about your wellbeing.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It is alright.’ she smiles her sweet engaging smile that makes a person feel instantly better, ‘Is there anything you might wish to discuss?’

‘I saw Hanson’s alter egos. It was pretty freaky. But he said he was sorry…. He saw into my mind as well. But I don’t know if that was when he was still drugged or not. I wondered if he would remember later what he had sapped from me.’

‘Do you want him to remember?’ she asked me.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Then perhaps he will know nothing of what happened between you.’

‘But he is different from before… it was really different.’

‘The leopard has changed his spots?’

‘Maybe....’ I said cautiously.

‘No one changes tack on their life without a very good reason.’ Violette sipped her tea in a very ladylike way.

‘Of course not.’ I thought of all the other times I’d been taken in by Hanson’s trickery.

‘Would you like your friends to come back in now?’ asked Violette politely.

‘What time is it?’ I suddenly felt confused.

‘Eight o’clock.’ answered Violette.

‘Is that morning, or evening?’

‘It’s evening. And still on the same day.’

‘Alright.’

Violette stood quickly and disappeared. I went to the window. I looked out towards the western rim of the evening sky. There were colours there, pale gold and the indigo edges of clouds, and that soft coral as the light began to shift towards true twilight.

‘Where are you?’ I whispered, ‘Find me…. Find me now. I’ll stop running….’ I reached down into a little box. I took out a black cigarette, and cracking open the window a fraction lit it with a match from the small box I always kept there. For such moments….when my mind wandered into strange channels, I had felt more at home out in the ice fields than I did now. I was wondering how long it would take for them all to arrive back in the room. I heard slight noises. There was a sound of conversation rising and falling, just on the edge of audible. The leaves sang their own song outside my window. They were talking about me. Was it rude? Was it concern? Out there in the Cloud Field I had been their Captain…. Expedition leader, after we had lost Hanson. That was partly Marcia’s doing. And then again she was with me in the Summerland…. I had caved in then. I wanted to stay away from her but I couldn’t….she is The One. I was seeing her in my dreams. I heard her laugh and I felt lighter somehow.

I blew the smoke out in a stream through the gap in the window. It was all rather confused after that when we were in the mountain. There were so many things layered onto each other, each one an island of memory. Ironic that I should only find some peace in the one place I was most afraid of. There at the edge of existence….I had seen my friend killed. The stuff of nightmares! But now I saw him come into the room smiling; he came near and picked up the matchbox.

‘Are you setting the world alight?’ he seemed intent on warning me of something, ‘There is someone here you might not want to see. Shall I send them away for you?’

‘That depends…’ I glanced towards the hall door.

‘On what?’ Davey leaned closer, ‘Marcia is in the kitchen…but she doesn’t know about Hanson.’

‘Yeah, she does,’ I said, ‘Come on Davey….You really have to try to tell me that Marcia doesn’t know that’s going on? That is not true.’

‘I thought she had some sort of… err problem with Mr Hanson?’ He stared out at the sky, as I looked at him.

‘You really should stop imagining things Davey. We really need to stop seeing what isn’t there.’

‘After all that happened?’ he said mildly.

‘Especially after that, it’s easy to get carried away.’ I thought of the giants. Davey was looking at me, waiting to see what else I would say. He seemed worried then, seeing my face. I must have been frowning, or looking moody or something.

‘Come on Jared. We’re all alright now. Aren’t we?’

‘I….’ the clouds were moving again and the thickening twilight was invading the room, ‘I really need to tell you and Marcia something. I don’t think it’s something the Doc can hear though.’

Davey looked at me intently for a moment or two as if measuring the significance of an idea he was currently toying with. I thought he wouldn’t speak, and drift into one of those extended daydreams, but he turned away towards my kitchen.

They all came in then: Marcia, Davey and Violette. The dear doctor was just about to go anyway, and stood there with her coat on, and