...Continued
Tuesday August 23rd 1977
Callahan insisted on accompanying Steve to California. In Northridge, they drove to the Dawson farm in the midst of a raging thunderstorm. Pouring rain mixed with gale force winds hampered their chances of arriving in time for the opening of the vortex.
“This is insane Steve!” Callahan shouted over the roaring wind. “You’re liable to get electrocuted. Why don’t we wait till the storm dies down?”
“I can’t. I have to get to that field now,” he shouted back. He waved her back. “Go back to the car and drive back to the hotel.”
“No! I’m coming with you.”
Steve held out his arm to clasp her hand. As they neared the cornfield, Steve was suddenly overcome by dizziness. He slumped to his knees and lowered his head.
“Steve, what’s wrong?”
He inhaled deeply and shook his head. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass.” He stretched his arm out to her. “Could you help me up, please?”
She gripped his arm and hoisted him to his feet. He held on to her for support as they pressed on. They arrived just as the twister formed.
“There it is!” Steve motioned to the field.
“My God, it’s true!” she exclaimed in bewilderment before this majestic force of nature.
“I have to go.”
They hugged each other one last time and exchanged a passionate kiss.
“Come back to me, Steve” she said imploringly with the rain drowning her tears.
“I will.”
As Steve moved closer to the vortex, a bolt of lightning struck the ground a couple of feet away, knocking them senseless. A mere fifteen seconds later, Steve slowly regained consciousness to be struck with terror. His heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Callahan sprawled unconscious on the ground. He teetered to his feet and rushed over to her.
“Peggy?” he shouted hysterically, kneeling beside her. He panicked at the absence of a pulse. “My God! No!” He started CPR. “Come on. You can’t die. Come on!” He let out a sigh of relief when she gasped in a deep breath. He cradled her in his arms and shielded her face from the stabbing raindrops.
His terror-filled eyes darted between the vortex and Callahan, dithering between jumping into the wormhole and carrying his ladylove to safety. Finally the twister dwindled and disappeared.
Wednesday June 9th 2123
Seven of Steve’s duplicates had all congregated in a library in Cahill’s underground laboratory. While awaiting the scientist’s green light to start the recombine process, they shared stories of their respective journeys through time.
The 2123 Steve browsed through the shelves and picked up a history book that he thumbed through distractedly until he stumbled upon a chapter relating the fall of the American democratic empire.
“Listen to this, guys.” Steve perched himself on the arm of a chair and started reading aloud. “It says here that World War Three was declared in 2079 following a fall out with the Chinese President who failed to honor a logrolling in the fight against nuclear weapons. The US and other NATO nations were compelled to levy a sanction and an embargo against the country. Still China refused to yield under pressure to reveal the location of an underground nuclear and biological facility. NATO had no other alternative but to declare war on China. The hostilities lasted three years, ending with the surprise launch of an atomic warhead that practically decimated the country.
“Sounds like Hiroshima and Nagasaki revisited,” The 6057 Steve commented.
“The US claimed all the kudos since it was their lethal gadget that put an end to the war. The victorious president was acclaimed by the population, which was some sort of a cult of personality; the blind following a charismatic leader who is fact was a disguised fascist despot.”
“Unbelievable!” snorted the 3006 Steve.
“He gradually browbeat the world’s leaders by organizing pressure groups to convince them to rally in their camp. When that tactic came to a naught, he proceeded to initiate saber rattling to quell them, until he finally overpowered them in a coup d’état and implemented his autocratic regime by proclaiming himself the ultimate world leader,” the 2123 Steve continued.
“And nobody saw him coming or attempted to stop him?” the 1210 Steve asked in disbelief.
“They were apparently all mesmerized by this extremist’s grand standings and ideals. He maintained an aura of power through propaganda and pervasive indoctrinations via various media outlets.”
“There’s one consolation,” the 1760 Steve piped up.
“What’s that?”
“What’s past is past, but as for the future, we won’t see any of it, aside maybe from the devastating Californian earthquake in 2006.”
“Don’t be so sure,” the 2006 Steve sighed dejectedly.
All eyes turned to the alternate who stood, leaning against a wall with his eyes downcast.
“Stop right there!” The 2123 Steve cautioned. “I don’t want to know.”
“Me neither,” the 1400 Steve agreed. He paused as a grim thought dawned on him. “Wait a second…a thought just occurred to me. We’re all basically the same person, right?”
“Right.”
“Then what happens when we’re all merged into one? Won’t we remember what each of us experienced?”
“Dr Cahill says it’s possible we might recall some events, particularly the ones deeply engraved on our minds. It’s safe to assume they’re all sewn in our subconscious.”
“Then you’ll know,” the 2006 Steve said woefully as he slowly made eye contact with his qualmish counterparts.
Martin entered the library with Joan.
“Good, you’re all here.”
“Did you find him?” the 2123 Steve asked with anticipation, alluding to the missing 1977 alternate.
Martin heaved a sigh thick with dismay and shook his head. “Are you positive you were able to reach him during the CRV session?”
“Yes, but he was sleeping. Could it be that he disregarded my message as a mere dream?”
“We have to allow the possibility. I’ll recombine the seven of you right now and attempt to locate the missing link during the next time window.”
“Dr Cahill, what about Anne Fowler?” the 2006 Steve asked.
Martin put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and shook his head. “I’m sorry. But without an alternate in this timeline, there’s nothing I can do for her.”
“Say Joan, tell us…which Steve do you like best?” the 1760 Steve teased.
“Shut up!” The 6057 Steve scolded with a clap and the shoulder.
“Ouch! You realize you’re slapping yourself?”
Martin led the alternates to the linear acceleration bubble chamber, inside which were seven chairs aligned in a circle, each facing small metal spheres connected to a huge cylinder. He instructed them to take a seat and place their hands on the spheres in front of them.
“You won’t send us electrical shocks?” the 2006 Steve joked to lighten the palpable tension.
“Rest assured, it’s painless. You might feel a sense of depression but that will rapidly fade.”
“Good.”
“Are you all comfortable?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Okay, we’ll begin. You might want to close your eyes. The light intensity could be damaging to the retina.”
All Steve duplicates followed instructions and inhaled deeply. Cahill exited the chamber and sealed the door before stepping over to his console to activate the recombine process. He handed a pair of dark glasses to Joan.
“Joan, wear these and keep an eye on them. If one should lose consciousness before the procedure is completed, let me know.”
“Okay.”
Cahill cast one last cursory look over his instruments before switching on the accelerator. Intense light beams traveled from the cylinder through connecting cathode ray tubes linked to the spheres. All seven duplicates started dematerializing.
“The recombine is complete,” Cahill announced proudly. “His quantum matrix has stabilized.” He switched off the reactor and went to unseal the door. He stepped inside the chamber to open the central cylinder in which Steve was standing, unconscious. He pulled the limp man out and carried him to the sofa. He checked his vital signs and felt his forehead.
“Joan, will you bring me a damp towel, please?”
She nodded in agreement and went to the sink to douse a towel with water before returning to him. Cahill applied the damp cloth to Steve’s forehead.
“Stay with him.” He vacated his seat for Joan to sit by Steve. “Watch for any sign of his coming around.” He returned to his console to work out the details of Steve’s next remote viewing session to locate his missing alternate.
“Dr. Cahill, I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“What’s going to happen once we’re back in 1980?”
Cahill frowned and shook his head in puzzlement. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, take me for example. I’ve been missing for nearly a month. How am I going to explain my absence to my boss?”
“You won’t have to. You see, crossing the bridges of space-time does not impede the flow of continuity, providing you return to the initial dimension in time, what we call the origin wave. That way, you don’t create an alternate reality stream. In a nutshell, you’ll be back at exactly the same time you disappeared. No one will miss you.”
“I see.”
“I need to be accurate in my calculations. We cannot afford any gaping hole in the dilation equation or it will allow for a broader dimensional spectrum”
“What’s that?”
“You might return a few days ahead or forward in time.”
“Oh!”
“It’s not all that dramatic, but it could eventuate in a temporary deviation of a short-term nature in the flow of continuity, meaning your future and everyone else’s concerned could be altered to some degree.”
A red light flashed on the console, alerting Cahill of an unauthorized visitor to his complex. He turned on the monitor to identify the stranger.
“What’s he doing here?” Cahill muttered to himself upon seeing his oldest son Michael on the surveillance camera.
“Dad, it’s important. I need to talk to you,” Mike urged with a frantic voice.
Cahill opened the iron gates disguised as moldy wooden doors inside a condemned factory to allow his son into the complex. No sooner had he stepped inside that the doors shut close.
Michael hurried his way through the maze of tunnels before finally reaching his destination.
“Dad!”
“Michael, my Goodness! What’s wrong?”
“They’ve got Chris,” he informed between pants.
“What are you talking about? Who’s got Christopher?”
“Christian, the delegate. He unleashed his scavengers on him.”
“For what reasons?”
“Suspicion of treason. They’re convinced he’s harboring a fugitive. You.”
“Impossible! They sealed my file years ago.”
“They somehow uncloaked the mystery of his whereabouts when they inquired at the health club he was allegedly frequenting when in reality he was coming here!”
“What could have tipped them off?” Martin wondered. His suspicions fell on Michael. “Rather who?” He glared at his son who reciprocated with a similar look.
“Thanks a lot, dad. I really appreciate the confidence you entrust in me,” Michael replied cynically.
“What am I supposed to think? You opted for their way of life. You’re a follower.”
“I’m sorry but I wasn’t about to condemn my wife and kids to a wretched covert existence. I decided it’d be best to abide by the rules to thus grant them freedom?”
“Freedom?” Martin hissed.
“Okay, let’s not go there, dad. It’s obvious you and me differ in opinion on that subject. Our main concern right now is Chris. They threatened to eradicate him if I fail to locate you and convince you to come out of seclusion.”
“Why you?”
“They know I’m your son, or have you forgotten it?”
"You're crazy coming here. No doubt you've led them to my doorstep."
"They didn't follow me. I checked."
"They don't need to follow you." Cahill grabbed his son's right wrist. "That tells them everything they want to know," he spat, motioning to the GIDMIC embedded in the palm of Mike's hand. “This is dubious. It could be an elaborate hoax.”
“Are you prepared to gamble Chris’s life on that flimsy assumption?”
“Of course not.” Cahill was shocked at the mere suggestion. He paused briefly to weigh his options before nodding. “Okay, let’s go.”
Joan sprung to her feet. “Dr. Cahill, will you be back?” she asked with apprehension of having to remain in the lab alone with her unconscious partner.
“Hopefully yes. If not, Chris will return to set the coordinates. I’ll make sure of that.”
smdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdm
Fifteen minutes passed before Steve showed signs of regaining consciousness. Joan was sitting by him, dabbing his forehead with a damp towel when a small moan escaped his parched lips. She put the hand towel down and poured a glass of water.
“Steve!” she coaxed him awake. “Steve, can you hear me?”
“Ummmmm….” he grunted, his face wrinkling in discomfort. His right hand slowly went up to his aching head as he gradually opened his eyes.
“Hi!” she smiled. “Want some water?”
He gulped and nodded feebly. She assisted him to a sitting position and handed him the glass that he quaffed down.
“You alright Steve?”
“I bit dizzy but otherwise I think I’m okay. What happened?”
“You’re whole again. Well, eighty-six point three percent according to Doctor Cahill’s estimation.”
“The recombine worked?”
“Like a charm.”
Steve inhaled deeply before he tried to stand on his wobbly legs. Joan held his arm for support. He scanned the room for any sign of Martin.
“Where’s Doctor Cahill?”
“He’s gone with his son,” she answered, looking crestfallen.
“Chris?”
“No, the eldest. Michael.”
“Gone where?”
“To the authorities. They have incarcerated Christopher who apparently revealed that his father was still alive. They’re threatening him out of hiding.”
“Chris spilling the beans? Never.” Steve opined flatly.
“My thoughts exactly. I don’t trust Michael. My instincts tell me he’s behind this.”
“I take it he doesn’t subscribe to the Resistance movement’s school of thoughts?” Steve expressed on a sarcastic tone.
“He’s a hard-core right-winger.”
“Meanwhile, what do we do?”
“Wait…hope…pray that either Doctor Cahill or Chris return unharmed. Without them, we’re forever grounded in this lifetime,” she stated dejectedly with a heavy sigh.
Monday June 14th 2123
At the government establishment’s incarceration quarters Chris was lying on a cot, staring up at the ceiling of his holding cell with his hands crossed behind his head when a scavenger led his brother Michael to his cell.
“Thank you. I won’t be a minute,” Mike said to the guard who returned to his post.
Chris sprung to his feet. “Michael, what are you doing here?” he asked in utter surprise. He avoided stepping closer to the laser beams acting as bars.
“Well, good day to you too, brother,” Mike replied sarcastically.
“They got you too?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”
“I didn’t have to. You already had.”
“What?”
“They subjected you to their mind probe.”
“That contraption is ineffective on me, Mike. It cannot extract any information.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, dear brother. Its power renders it impossible for any human being to conceal anything.”
“You don’t understand. I can easily counteract the effect of…” Chris cut in mid sentence when it dawned on him that he was revealing too much.
“Of what?” Mike probed with curiosity.
“Never mind.”
“I came to tell you that you are free to go.”
“How come?” Chris asked, eyeing Mike dubiously.
“They’re holding dad. Once you told them he was alive, they sent me to get him.”
“You did what?” Chris hissed between gritted teeth. “That means they’re privy to the complex’s location?”
“No. I got dad to come out of his lair before they could delve deeper into your sub conscience.”
Chris clamped his eyes shut and heaved a loud sigh thick with aggravation.
“I warned you, Chris. I warned you about this gadget of yours! Eventually they’d be on to you.”
“You beetle head! Your GIDMIC already relayed all the data they need. They followed your every move.”
“They didn’t give me much choice. They threatened my family.”
“What time is it?”
Michael glanced at his watch. “Fifteen to two.”
“Less than two hours left,” Chris mumbled to himself, alluding to the vortex’s activation.
“Chris, we must do something about dad. He’s facing serious charges.”
“We will. Give me only two hours.”
“What for?”
“I need to return to the lab.”
“You’ve got a death wish or something?” Mike admonished.
“I must send Steve and Joan back to their timeline before it’s too late.”
“Chris, you’re unbelievable.” Mike shook his head in disbelief. “You are more preoccupied with the fate of two strangers than your own father’s.”
“I have good reasons.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“I can’t explain now. Time is running out. I need your help.”
“I’m not jeopardizing my life for those two.”
“By not helping me, you are.”
“Meaning?”
Chris stared down at his feet and drew in a lungful of air to summon his courage. “One of them, Steve, has the same genetic pattern.”
Mike frowned quizzically at Chris.
“The name Austin? Doesn’t it sound familiar?”
“Aside from being grandmother’s maiden n….” Mike’s voice faltered and his eyes widened in shock as his mind instantly made the correlation.
“Exactly,” Chris translated his brother inner thought. He continued by stressing the importance of his safe return home. “If we don’t return him to his timeline, our temporal signatures will be deleted from the linear time continuum and you and I will cease to exist.”
“You’re pulling my leg!”
“His DNA matches,” he stepped closer to his brother, standing stock-still on the opposite side of the laser beams. “Now, will you help me?” Chris asked on a slightly pleading tone.
Mike sighed and nodded in agreement.
Monday June 14th 2123
Back at the underground complex, Steve was asleep at the console after having racked his brain trying to decipher the intricate calculations fed into the computer. Time was ticking down. The opening of the vortex was drawing near and neither Chris nor Martin had shown up.
Joan padded up to him with a blanket that she gently spread over his shoulders. He awoke with a start.
“I’m sorry Steve. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Joan said apologetically.
“That’s okay.” He lazily raised his chest off the console and drew in a lungful of air as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Close to three o’clock.”
Steve quickly regained his composure. “Less than forty minutes. I’ve got to figure this last part.”
“Steve, you’ve been racking your brain for days. You’re exhausted!”
“Joan, we must yield to the fact that Chris and his father are probably never coming back. We are left on our own to throw the right switch that will initiate the process of our voyage back home.”
“Steve, you’re not a quantum physicist. Moreover this advanced technology is beyond the scope of our comprehension.”
“Doctor Cahill taught me through the specifics. I therefore have a general knowledge of how this works. I just need to recall the details.” He leaned his elbows against the console and rested his head on his fists. His eyes swiveled back and forth at the instrument panel before him.
At that moment, the ironclad door slid open.
“Chris! Thank God you’re here!” Joan gushed.
“Where’s your father?” Steve asked as he vacated his seat.
“They’re still holding him but not to worry…we’ll get him out.” Chris sat behind the console to chart the path of the oncoming vortex and initiate the return home for the two time travelers. “We have less than thirty-five minutes before the outward-bound vortex opens.”
Suddenly, a red light flashed. Chris switched on the surveillance camera monitor. He was surprised to see two scavengers freely roaming the corridors leading to the main computer room.
“I knew it!” he raged.
“What is it?” Steve asked.
“Look!” Chris pointed to the monitor. The scavengers were holding a ray gun their hostage’s head.
“Chris I know you’re in there. Please unlock that door or they’ll kill me,” Mike beseeched his brother through the surveillance camera.
“What are you doing to do?” Joan asked with apprehension.
“I cannot allow them to set foot in here.”
“Can they force their way in?” Steve asked.
“The facility is equipped with a firewall, an impregnable security system that denies access to anyone who fails to produce the correct password once they succeed in passing the thermoscan, which is highly unlikely in this case.”
“Your brother was here the other day. He had apparently no trouble setting foot in this lab,” Joan observed.
“Then he can easily hack the system,” Steve surmised.
“Not necessarily. He had the password then. The system changes it everyday.”
“Christopher, please answer me,” a frightened Mike begged. “Please! Open this door, I beg of you.”
“Sorry, brother,” Chris exhaled in despair. “No can do.”
In the monitor, our threesome witnessed the scavengers blasting their ray guns at Mike who crumbled to the floor.
“Oh my God!” Joan exclaimed with terror with a hand over her mouth.
Chris pulled a switch on the console that sent a toxic chemical gas through the corridor’s ventilation shafts, one that disabled the scavengers’ electronic circuits, rendering the androids inactive.
“That ought to take care of those bloodhounds!” He threw off another switch. “I’ve programmed the mainframe to autodestruct in less than thirty minutes. That should give us enough time to reach the beach.”
“You want to destroy this facility?” Steve asked in shock.
“Those were my father’s explicit instructions in the event they should find us out.”
“It’s a shame to see it all destroyed,” Joan said ruefully as she glanced around the room. “This is such work.”
“All the more reason why we mustn’t allow it to fall into enemy hands.” Chris glanced at the digital clock counting down to twenty-eight minutes and twelve seconds. “Let’s go!”
smdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdmsmdm
On the road to their destination, Chris’s car broke down. He urged Steve and Joan to step out of the car and continue the remaining yards on foot.
“How much time?” Steve asked.
Chris glanced down at his wristwatch. “Four minutes. We can make it. Hurry!”
As they made a mad dash toward the beach a loud implosion shook the ground beneath them.
“That’s it! It’s over. There’s no turning back now.”
They took a few seconds to mourn the destruction of the complex before they resumed their run and reached the beach within two minutes.
“We made it!” Joan enthused. Her glee was swiftly washed over by fear when she saw two scavengers emerging from the bushes. “Chris, look!”
Much to their surprise, the supposed dearly departed brother Michael appeared behind the two androids.
“I knew you’d be coming here, Brother,” Mike sneered.
“You?”
“That’s right, me.”
“But you…you’re…” Chris stammered.
“Dead? Come on Chris, give me a break.”
“That was a clone, wasn’t it?”
“And a darn good-looking one. He fooled you.”
Steve nervously glanced down at his wristwatch.
“I’ve made arrangement with our friendly delegate. He’s agreed not to eradicate you providing your two friends come with us,” Michael explained with a voice dripping with malicious glee.
“What about dad?” Mike looked downcast. Chris knitted his eyebrows and took three steps forward. “Michael, is dad okay?” Mike stared his brother in the eyes. The stonehearted look was self-explanatory “Oh my God! You didn’t?”
“He suffered an unfortunate heart attack,” Mike fibbed with a feigned mournful expression.
“Yeah, sure,” Chris said sarcastically.
“Chris I don’t want anything to happen to you. Just let those two go and you’ll be free.”
“Not on your life! They have to go back and you know why.”
“That won’t make the slightest difference.”
“Yes it will,” Chris argued.
A sudden gale force wind announced the opening of the vortex.
“Go! Jump!” Chris shouted to Steve and Joan.
Steve grabbed Joan’s hand but hesitated. “Come with us, Chris.”
“I can’t. It’s not my timeline.”
“1980 may not be much technology wise but our way of living beats what you have here. Together we can prevent this nightmare from ever taking place.”
“You can’t redefine historical events, Steve.”
“I sure am going to try.”
“Come on, Chris,” Joan encouraged by reaching her hand out to him.
Chris’s eyes darted between the two camps, dithering over which one to follow.
“I’m warning you, Chris. You go with them and I’ll kill your wife,” Mike threatened with a motion of the head toward the second-storey window of his beach house, where a scavenger was seen holding a ray gun at Emalyn’s head.
“Come on, Chris” Steve urged.
“I can’t Steve,” Chris said, reluctantly acknowledging defeat. “You go now! The vortex will lose containment in less than a minute. Go!”
Steve pulled at Joan’s hand and together they jumped inside the twister that swallowed them whole.
“Wise decision, Brother.” Mike motioned to the scavenger to kill the woman.
“Noooooooooooooooooo!” Chris screamed, dashing to the house. One scavenger quickly stopped his run and ordered him back to his initial spot. “You son-of-a-bitch!” he spat at Mike who merely smirked.
“Yeah, you’re right. Our mother was a bitch, wasn’t she?” he sneered. “It’s so unfortunate she perished in that tragic accident,” he finished on a sarcastic tone.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me,” Chris deplored.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What kind of monster are you?”
“The kind that keeps me and my family alive.”
“I’m disgusted to think you’re my kin.”
“Get over it, Chris. Get with the times.”
“Time,” Chris thought to himself. “Steve was right. I don’t belong here.” He swirled on his heels and dove head on into the vortex before it disappeared.
“Dammit!” Mike cursed at his misfortune. “We had them!”
“The delegate isn’t going to be happy,” one of the scavengers pointed out.
Monday September 30th 1980
Back in 1980, Steve and Joan are both coughed out of the vortex and make a rough landing in the fallow field. Steve spat out a few wheat twigs out of his mouth before hoisting himself up and assisting Joan to her feet.
“Joan, are you alright?” Steve shouted over the strong wind generated by the vortex.
“Yes, I think so,” she answered similarly while brushing herself off. “Are we back?”
A grin crossed Steve’s face at the familiar surroundings. “I think so.” He held her by the waist to steer her away from the twister’s path. At that moment, Chris appeared through the wormhole and dove head onto the ground.
“Chris!” Joan exclaimed.
Steve rushed to Chris’s side as the vortex closed. “Chris, you came!”
“Yeah!” he rasped painfully, clasping his right arm.
“You hurt?” Steve gave him a cursory examination.
“No. Just the rough landing that stunned me. I’ll be okay.” He held out his hand to Steve to get a hoist up. “Thanks!” He scanned the area. “So this is 1980?”
“Are we really back in 1980?” Joan asked.
“Yes, but there might be a slight deviation in the time gap.”
“Meaning we’re not back on September 24th,” Steve surmised.
“Right, but close.”
“There’s only one way to find out. I’ll call Oscar.”
They ploughed themselves out of the thick field and walked to the nearest pay phone to call a taxi to drive them to Steve’s hotel. In the lobby, Joan spotted a wall calendar indicating Monday September 30th 1980.
“One week after my disappearance. They must be looking for me.”
Joan picked up a newspaper and began skimming it for any news articles on Steve’s disappearance. “Maybe there’s something in here about a missing astronaut.”
“I doubt it, Joan. Oscar and the NSB wouldn’t have leaked this out to the media. I was in California on assignment looking for you and the other missing agents.” He picked up a phone at the reception desk and dialed Oscar’s private red phone number.
In Washington, Oscar was in his office with Callahan sorting through dozens of files on likely suspects who might have been involved in his top agents’ disappearances when the phone rang.
“Oscar Goldman.”
“Good to hear your voice, Goldie,” Steve teased with the nickname given to Oscar while he was State Prosecutor.
“Steve!” Oscar squealed, swiftly turning to Callahan who wore a broad elated smile. “Where are you? We’ve been looking all over for you? Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine Oscar. I’m in Northridge with Joan Corbett. She’s okay too. It’s a very long story Oscar,” Steve sighed and winked at Joan standing to his left. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”
“As long as you’re in one piece, that’s the main important thing.”
“Well, that’s debatable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I said, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to base.”
“I’ll have a plane ready for you at Ventura in an hour.”
“Fine. We’ll be there.”
Callahan beckoned Oscar to pass her the phone.
“Oh Steve, wait! There’s someone who would like to speak with you.” He handed the phone to his secretary.
“Steve!”
“Callahan?”
Chris reacted to the name and smiled knowingly.
“Steve, Thank God you’re alright. We’ve been so worried about you.” She brought the mouthpiece closer to her lips and whispered. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too. I haven’t forgotten about our weekend. Soon as I get back, we’ll discuss our plans.”
“I’d like that,” she replied shyly, glancing up at her boss who was wearing an amused grin.
“See you soon.” Steve hung up the phone. “That’s that. Oscar’s making arrangements to have a military plane fly us to Washington in an hour.” He frowned at Chris’s smirk. “Something funny?”
“Callahan, would that be Peggy Callahan?”
“That’s right.”
Chris let out a small chuckle. “It’s weird seeing and actually living your past.”
“About as strange as living your future.”
“You two are an item?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“Chris, I’m getting the feeling you know something I don’t.”
“Steve I know an awful lot about you.” Chris mocked with a friendly tap on Steve’s shoulder. “All I can say for now is that you and that little lady are going to be spending much time together.”
“Do tell!”
“That’s it. I’m not allowed to elaborate.”
“Uhn, uhn,” Steve scoffed.
Tuesday August 23rd 1977
Steve was standing at the window of Callahan’s hospital room, staring absentmindedly at the sheet of rain pouring down on the city. His dull mind relived each second of the terrifying lightning strike that nearly cost them both their lives. He wondered whether he’d be granted another opportunity to catch the next vortex. Until then, he couldn’t be seen roaming around. He had to keep a low profile knowing his 1977 counterpart would soon be on his feet.
He turned around and smiled at the sleeping form on the bed. He glanced at the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand, his goodbye gift to the little lady who had stolen his heart. He bent down to brush a light kiss on her forehead before he left the room.
Seconds after, the 1977 Steve slouched into the room, trailing his IV pole with him. His steps faltered as he dithered whether to approach the bed and risk rousing his slumbering friend. He padded up to the bed and gazed at the angel face staring up at him. He sat in a nearby chair and held her hand.
Her eyelids fluttered at the touch. She slowly opened her eyes to Steve’s smile. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself. How are you feeling?”
“Like the cushion that broke the elephant’s fall,” she joked.
Steve chuckled. “That’s a good one. Want some water?”
“Please.”
Steve stood from the chair and stepped over to the nightstand to pour her a glassful.
“Those are beautiful flowers,” she commented. “Are they from you?”
“I wish but I was just made aware of your condition a few minutes ago.” He handed her over the glass.
She stared at him in puzzlement. “You mean, you weren’t….?” She cut in mid sentence when it suddenly dawned on her that she was speaking to the 1977 Steve Austin.
“Weren’t what?”
“You’re our Steve!”
“Well yes. How many more are there?”
“How are you?”
“Better. I’ll be discharged in a couple of days.”
“That’s good news.”
Steve motioned to the flowers. “There’s a card. Do you want to read it?”
She raised herself into a sitting position and nodded. He took the card and handed it over to her. She opened the tiny envelope and slid out the card.
My dearest Peggy,
“I wished to stay with you until you awoke but I knew it’d be just a matter of time before my counterpart would get word of your admission and pay you a little visit. I recall being in the hospital on this day back in 1977 and the two of us meeting would result in…well…you know.
I am therefore compelled to remain inconspicuous until I can catch another vortex that will hopefully return me to my own time.
Please I beg of you…don’t try to locate me. It’s better this way.
Take care!
Your friend, always.
You know who (wink)”
She clenched the card to her heart and smiled wistfully.
“A boyfriend?”
“Hopefully. Someday…hopefully.”
THE END
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