“Are you ready?” the shoes ask me. Brown snake skin shines up at me and I briefly feel a stab of sympathy for the animal that had been subject to such a distasteful afterlife.
“Ready,” I answer nonetheless. Someone tugs my frizzled brown hair into a loose knot by the neck. I remember viewing History Live on tv when I was younger, watching the old travelers pull on clunky fish-bowl shaped helmets. We don’t need those anymore. The United Countries of America has the most advanced technologies of the forty-second century.
My mom had called in the morning to ask if I was ready for this. She moved on from the topic before I could regurgitate the same answer again. I didn’t mind. A major dust storm had caused her and my father to relocate to one of the space centers. Mars only has so many space centers available and the increasing prevalence of such storms only heightens our dread. That is why my experiment here is crucial to the success of our species. The fate of 14 billion people stood on my shoulders. The Global Times had a blown up picture of my face on the cover--thinking about it, every magazine I’ve picked up had me somewhere on the front page.
As a sophomore in college, my thesis was accidentally picked up by the wrong professor and this turned out to be the best mistake of my life. The stranger turned out to be none other than Pietro Vilanova: the founding member of the Council of Eight. By chance he read my paper and it all started there for me. I was immediately plucked out of college and given the highest degree of clearance--right below the Council itself. My research became the most highly contested topic of the century: I received fan letters and hate mail to equal extent. Slowly but surely though, my hypotheses began to come true. First it was the falling clouds on Venus. Then the animals slowly started dying on Mercury from heat exposure. Now the dust clouds in Mars are making yet another planet uninhabitable. There used to be a time when people disregarded climate change on Earth. Now, as it spreads to the entire galaxy, there’s only one place in the world that could house a portion of humanity: the past.
“Eyes up,” the shoes order. My eyes flit up to the human-sized ring in front of me. The metallic sheen glints at me and I see my wide green eyes peering back from the surface. It took just a small semi to fly it over from the UCA Time Center.
Thin gloves made from the same soft material as my suit are pulled on while the last minute clips are quickly fastened into place. A thump on my shoulder signals completion.
“Are you ready, Ms Duran?” Pietro Vilanova asks me. The media was not allowed into the time chamber so as to not create any distractions. Only Vilanova and a few of the scientists who work with me for my research had the clearance. Am I ready?
More than anything else in the world.
My entire life’s work depends on the success of this experiment. This could change life how we see it forever: I could be the next Neil Armstrong. One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Time travel would only mark the beginning of intertemporal communication. The public used to say that changing the past would be disastrous for our future but what if there were regulations? That’s what’s going on in our solar system now. People said that traveling outside of the planet would not be possible. Look where we are now! After colonizing five of the big eight, we are spreading human kind’s reach through time.
“I’m ready.”
“Good. Orel, prep the chamber and make way for our first time traveler.” Vilanova’s eye lines crinkle into a mountain range on his face as he grins. His graying hair lightens with more flecks of salt than pepper. At sixty-two, he is one of the oldest presidents to lead the UCA, but even age could not hide the childish glee in his eyes. As I slowly make my way to the ring, hands reach up to congratulate me, the words of encouragement raining down in surplus. I allow myself a small smile: I can celebrate once I’m in the year 2020. One boot in front of the other, I find myself a foot in front of the ring. So close.
I could hear my heartbeat calling out to the world I’ve never known. My fingers tingle and I order my foot to stop bouncing. A frenzy of emotions cascade through my veins. It’s the feeling at the top of the roller coaster right before the big drop when you can’t decide between elation and hysteria.
“All set. Code 1400-C-Joy-Starter-954 is in progress. Await by for further instructions.”
I turn to face my colleagues and friends. The entire room peers up at me with varying degrees of awe and thrill. A slideshow of images flash through my head as the memories play a reminiscing movie. These people stood with me during the thick and thin. Now is the moment we face the truth.
“Let’s build the future, guys.”
I place one foot inside the ring amid thunderous applause and pause.
A deep breath in. Another foot in. Expectant eyes. Relaxing my curled claws. A single nod to Vilanova. A nod of goodbye. Then I give the command.
A blinding flash snaps my eyes shut and I feel a tug in my core. One… two… three seconds and it’s over. A small peek through my long lashes reveals a world of green. So many new shades of green that I’ve never seen before in my life. Emerald, jade, forest, olive. The warmth of the sun’s rays caress my grinning cheeks as I let out a whoop of success. I made it!
My eyes devour every sight, craning toward the sounds of life: of a full Earth filled with the song of nature’s calls. Birds made completely from flesh and bones glide through the fresh, cool Autumn breeze. A slow rising sound snaps my head left to reveal one of those antique cars that runs on fuel rising up over a crest. An amazed laugh bubbles up and overflows as I rush to the edge of the road. The ebony car barrels down the street, the wind giving chase on its heels. With a giddy giggle, I scamper to the middle of the road to watch the rear lights disappear into the horizon.
I made it. I really made it.
In the midst of my elation, I don’t notice the low rumbling that began to purr behind me. The next couple seconds go by slowly. A black car. The color of Death. My eyes shut to bask in Mother Earth’s song.
Thwack.
One thought floats helplessly as my consciousness drifts away: Don’t mess with the past.
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