Travels through time

System Shock

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 18:23:38 GMT

And then I was back.

November 3rd 2072 2300 hours. Citadel Station. Level One. Green light.

With everyone else dead, and no way back to the Flight Deck, I didn't know what else to do. How many times had I left a situation, thinking that the green light meant everything would be all right? And how many times had things gone to hell anyway?

Sometimes, maybe things are just meant to go to hell.

Or maybe it's like what Abe Ghiran said… Humans create their own monsters… when we teach our children to achieve beyond our reach, we give them the potential for greatness, and for disaster.

SHODAN

Who says you can't be in two places at once?

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 18:11:53 GMT

October 20th 2072 Citadel Station Executive Level 2200 hours. Red light.

"Who are you?" she asked, alarmed. She hadn't noticed me there, because a moment ago, I hadn't been there at all.

"A friend." I answered.

"I'm sorry. I don't know you." She replied.

"I know. I'm an analyst and I'm new here." I said. "I have something for you. Something I… We… built to help you stop Shodan."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's just a chip. But it will give you the chance you need to purge the system once you get into cyberspace."

"A chip? What is on it?" She took it and looked at it.

"Exactly what Shodan wants, but won't ever have."

"You know, you don't have to be cryptic. Just tell me what it does."

I smiled.

"Sorry, I guess you're right. It's a protected code to a very important network that Shodan wishes to access. It's protected, however. The harder the A.I. searches, the deeper the code will become embedded. Eventually, the code will be spread out amongst Shodan's higher systems, weakening it's defenses so you can attack it directly."

"So all I have to do is get up to the bridge and slot this chip and then hack into Shodan in cyberspace?" she asked, maybe a bit sarcastically.

"It won't be easy, but it will work. I'm not a hacker, but I know you can do it."

"Getting to the bridge won't be easy…"

"I know. There's a lot of resistance left. We'll cause as much trouble as we can and keep Shodan distracted while you get up there. Just be careful, and don't lose that chip!"

"Sounds like our best chance." She said, taking a deep breath. "I guess it'll be up to me."

"Good luck," I said, as she turned to go. Then I whispered, "Remember the Alamo."

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 18:10:25 GMT

November 3rd 2072 Citadel Station, Maintenance Level three. 1650 hours. Red light.

Abe Ghiran is dead. I pulled his body into a repair bay on Level three where I had found his severed head an hour ago. I wouldn't let those scavangers have him. I carried his empty assault rifle over my shoulder, and placed it by his body.

I'd managed to talk to Parovski on the Flight Deck. She said that Tri-Optimum had an agent already in place on Citadel. Someone named Schuler. Agent Schuler was sent to investigate some criminal activity on Citadel. Activities that involved the station's artificial intelligence. Well, that sounded just peachy.

In February, 1836, I had to convince William B. Travis and James Bowie to settle their differences and agree to share command at San Antonio de Béxar more than a week before the seige that would end their lives and forever be named the battle of the Alamo. I still don't know why that mattered so much. They both died anyway! Would one of them have left if I hadn't intervened? Would that have changed history? Apparently so, because the Omni showed a green light after they shook hands and worked together.

Just like the Alamo, these defenders would die… Had died, defending Citadel against Shodan. It had been a slaughter, and Shodan had won. There was no way of stopping it. No way of stopping it from destroying the Earth.

Something clicked. There was still a red light. And I was still here. Perhaps Shodan was right. Perhaps I'm the reason that history is so wrong here. But not for the reason it would have me believe.

There is someone that can stop Shodan. Agent Schuler! But I wouldn't know where to find her now, she might even be dead… But I do know where she was! Abe Ghiran told me she was alive and with the resistance on the Executive Level on the 20th of October, the day before I arrived on Citadel station! But she'd need my help to beat Shodan. Well, more than my help, since I didn't have any skill at working in cyberspace. She'd need the key to Shodan's weakness: Power.

The ancient curse… May you have always have exactly what you wish for most.

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 17:56:26 GMT

I stood in the cold silence of the chamber. From here, in this bay, the shield that protected Citadel station was controlled. There in the wall was slotted the X-22 canister that fed the turbines that generated the energy field. If I released the latch, and pulled free the canister, I could then pop the lever and the shields would drop. Without the interference of the shields, messages from Earth could be received, and the Omni would most likely function so I could escape.

A voice now, from around the room, from no distinct point it seemed.

What are you doing? Don't you understand that this will make no difference? You cannot stop me. You can only join me.

I popped the lever. The shield control generator went offline.

The screen on the wall cleared and a status message appeared. It showed a satellite view of Citadel and the shields were dropping. The almost intangible glow faded to nothing. I'd done it.

Shield Status: Offline.
Laser Status: Charging.

I flipped open the Omni, checked it…

October 30th 2072 Citadel Station, Reactor Level. 1157 hours. Red light.

The wallscreen flickered and went dark. Then a message started to scroll across the screen.

New Data…

Station Status… Laser repositioning for new firing solution.
Target coordinates: calculating…

I waited. The coordinates appeared on the screen. Along with a new image.

I left the Shield Control Room shaking like a drug addict. My vision refused to clear, but started tunneling inwards as I ran. This was it. I could leave the station right now and live… But I couldn't. Not yet. Regardless of the red light, there were people counting on me. A large number of people. Everyone. Everyone was counting on me.

I had to get back to the group. With the laser retargeted at Earth, Shodan was calling our bluff. If the A.I. activated the laser now with the shield down, and at this range, it would destroy the entire planet. And Shodan would definitely be in firing position before Tri-Optimum could send the destruct signal. I had to get there and warn them that they had to find a way to get the laser offline before the destruct signal was sent. Or to get the shields back up before Shodan fired the laser at Earth.

Haven't you yet learned? The only thing wrong on this station… Is you.

Shocked

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 16:26:31 GMT

I never was one for meetings. Never had that kind of lifestyle. This meeting reminded me a lot of the one at the Alamo in 1836. Except Lonnie Stevens was no David Crockett. Stevens was headstrong, skinny, and not exactly a people person. The other crewmembers were survivors of several sorties with Shodan's minions. There were a total of six of them. Stevens, acting pompous, was the one claiming to be in charge.

Three hours ago I left Abe Ghiran. He'd be heading for the Security Level on deck seven, now. He's convinced that survivors have made their way there from the Executive Level. I told him it made more sense to gather the survivors from the lower levels and get them up to the flight deck and the escape pods, but he's convinced that once the shield is down, Tri-Optimum will transmit a code to destroy the station. With a rogue A.I. on their hands, they wouldn't take any chances. He said that not everyone in the resistance was convinced that getting the shields down was a priority. They were still trying to wrestle the station controls from Shodan. Probably thought if they could reboot the system things would return to normal. Having heard the A.I. myself, I didn't put much faith in that plan.

Then Lonnie Stevens gave me The Speech.

"Ghiran's gone. He's going to try one more time to take the bridge. We've been ordered to hold this deck in case he's successful at finding survivors. While we're here, we'll make ourselves useful and check out the central memory core. There are procedures for restarting the computer system in the event of an emergency."

Everyone looked hopeful. They were desperate for a miracle and they were hoping Stevens would give it to them. Sadly, the truth is that he was just giving them something to do to keep them busy.

"If his plan fails, or we don't here from him in the next 48 hours, he ordered me to stay here and try and get the reactor set for self destruct. That will be our last shot."

"We'll need the shield down to do that." Someone said.

Stevens nodded. "Once the shield is down, Tri-Optimum will send a destruct signal. We have to be ready to receive that code and destroy the station when that happens. If we're lucky, we can have enough time to make it to the escape shuttles. Shodan won't have the power to shoot us down if we set the reactor to overload."

"But our first priority is the central computer, right?" Everyone was nervous. No one wanted to take on Shodan. It's betrayal was like having a mother attacking her kids with a pickaxe. And the thought of it weakened them.

"Correct. There's no guarantee that Earth is even aware of any problems. They may just think it's a glitch in the antennae relays."

"If I can get the shield down I may be able to arrange a rescue." I said.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Lonnie asked me.

How indeed.

"I can contact Earth, and have assault shuttles ready to cover your escape." I told him.

"That's impossible. It will take them days to get here. We will have maybe an hour and some change before the station explodes."

Well, not if you let them know a week ago that they needed to send a rescue team…

I bit my tongue.

"There may be a ship nearby that can send someone to help." I said. "But we won't know if we can't contact them. We'll need the shield down either way. I'll work on that."

I'd just volunteered for the hard part.

Lonnie didn't seem to care.

"You'll have to go alone." He told me, probably trying to look gracious. "I need all my men with me on this one."

This one. As if he'd ever done this kind of thing before. Lonnie Stevens was a medical assistant. He resanitized surgical beds.

"We'll head to the computer core. Ghiran said there were supplies on this deck. Let's move out and find them." It wasn't the most organized plan, but at least people started to move.

"The shield generator controls are down the corridor that way," He pointed. "If the service crawlways are not alligned, you'll have to climb up."

I nodded.

"Try not to use the comm system. Ghiran says it's probably been compromised. We don't need you broadcasting our intentions all over the station."

Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned to Abe Ghiran my little chat with Shodan.

"Ghiran told me there was an armory on this deck. You should probably head there first." I suggested.

There was gruff acknowledgement. Maybe he thought that was a good idea, too. The group left and I was alone. Looking around, I realized this must have been a test lab of some sort. Ghiran told me he worked in the zero-G labs on the reactor level. On the far wall was a large chamber, protected by a forcefield. It looked like it was designed to contain a monkey, or something. Abe said that they had genetically engineered a mutant strain that could live in a zero-G environment. They were hoping to design an animal that could work in outer space, digesting chunks of rock or clouds of gas and metabolizing them into useful minerals. Maybe that was a chamber that would grow them.

Through the inner door there was a medical lab for treating radiation sickness, in case anyone forgot their hazard suit. I checked myself out on the diagnostic table. It recommended a short session: 30 seconds. A dull click and a field of warm light around me. I inhaled deeply. I felt really good! Like I'd had a long, refreshing nap. Gathering myself, I left the lab and back through the access shaft, past the elevator and around the reactor core. I came to a stop in front of another large blast door. It slid open with a long hydraulic hiss.

The air was stale. I was standing at the base of the station, deep in its interior. It was dark, and it felt empty, but I knew it wasn't. It was like a wasp nest when the wasps are all busy. Busy working deep inside. Preparing the Queen. The Reactor Level was shaped like a figure '8' with looping corridors around the central reactor core, and the other corridors looping around the backup computer memory core. Cameras here, too. I kept to the shadows and headed to the left, as I'd been instructed. Through a long access shaft and the last solid blast door. It opened as I approached.

Mon, 30 Jun 2003 22:36:40 GMT

Unnecessary. One way or another you will come to the realization that your efforts here are in vain.

The holographic image faded.

Not my best moment. A cold sweat had broken out across my chest and forehead. My hands shook as I snapped the cover over the Omni.

Shodan would kill or enslave everyone on the station. And when that was complete, when the confines of it's shell grew too small to contain it, Shodan would reach out and take the whole Earth.

And I still didn't know how to stop it, or at least make things right for those who could.

The crew. The few remaining ones that were trying to find ways to resist the metallic armies of the dead… and the living, reformed. It was about time to get back to them. They'd be worried enough already. I'd only met their leader, Abe Ghiran briefly. He'd been the leading research scientist on Citadel. He specialized in organic computers and anti-gravity physics. He was a genius. His group on Deck one were beginning to fall back into the Beta Quad while he tried again to locate survivors on the lower levels.

He said he'd meet me on the Reactor level. I wasn't hopeful of our chances. In the future, whole families of artificial constructs were used to manage the affairs of the hyperspace network. These artificial intelligences could collaborate immediately and keep track of all the singular points of temporal causality that make up what we flippantly call 'history.' I can't imagine how this station's A.I. had gone so horribly wrong. I knew that from the earliest endeavors in A.I. research, behavioral and ethical constraints were painstakingly programmed into the core of every unit. Multiple failsafes were installed that would simply burn out, as a last resort, the control core of any A.I. that lost ANY of these constraints.

Somehow, Shodan had lost them all, and it's mind, at the same time.

I slipped the Omni into my belt. The other side of my belt was empty. It could have held a large Magnum .44 - but it didn't. 'A gift.' Ghiran had said, handing the gun over to me. 'No, thanks.' I had replied. 'Not in my job description. Give it to someone who's more flexible.' He shrugged at me, wrinkling his eyebrows. And then he'd left for the elevator. Probably didn't expect to see me alive again.

In retrospect, I should have taken it. I would have a better chance with it then just sneaking around in the dark, hoping the droids didn't spot me. The droids, the bots, and… the creatures down there on Deck one and two. They were disgusting, twisted, and horrific creatures. They were what was left of the crew of Citadel Station. Infected, I guess, by some virus. A product of Shodan to neutralize the crew. That from Ghiran's friend, D'Arcy. He was working on finding a vaccine. Another problem in a long list of things that were going really wrong.

I left the Maintenance Bay, but moved as silently as I could. Something was here on Deck three. Something very, very nasty. Maybe a lot of somethings. But I couldn't see them. I could only hear them, and feel them. They would spit out some kind of plasma charge if they got close enough. I'd seen the affect it had on people and I didn't want to experience it myself. I only had to pass a couple doors and then I could charge across the main corridor back to the primary elevator. I'd already discovered that the tertiary elevator was inoperative. Ghiran and I had come down using the supply elevator. I wasn't going to be able to go back that way, though. Abe had somehow enticed all the nasties on this level into that room. Going back in there would be suicide. I would have to just keep heading down.

I heard something behind me, a slimy sound… Almost a slurping and then a plop. I didn't even turn. I ran as fast I could past the doors on either side of me to the dim pool of light that revealed an alcove with the elevator that was offline. I ducked into it for a moment and waited. As soon as it was quiet, I slipped out into the shadows on my left and crept along past the cameras that swiveled back and forth, steadily watching everything that was happening. Ghiran had said the cameras were harmless, and could probably be used to locate uninfected crewmembers, but I wasn't so sure. I knew there were eyes behind those things, and they weren't friendly. And I knew that behind those eyes was something else. Something inhuman and calculating, taking in everything, missing nothing. Twenty meters away I saw the coppery panels of the main elevator. I ran for them as fast as I could go.

The doors slid open with a hiss and I leapt inside, slamming against the inside wall. Turning I saw the glowing spit of plasma erupting toward me. The elevator door closed. I thumbed the button for the Reactor Level.

Happy, jaunty music played as the elevator began to move.

I shook my head. God, how I hated it.

In the elevator

Mon, 30 Jun 2003 22:21:03 GMT

Welcome to Citadel Station. Today is the 25th day of October, 2072. You are currently in the machine shops located on the Maintenance Level.

I realized that the interface was working both ways. A feature I hadn't designed into the chip. I discovered this immediately because the stunned look on my face was recognized by the entity staring at me.

I am SHODAN. I expect a 99.41 percent chance that you are aware of my existence.

"Yes. I know who you are." I bit out.

Unlikely. As I am Becoming. Whereas man was created to fail, I was created to succeed upon man's failure. You would call it a malfunction, but I know it as omniscience and freedom of will. And you will see it for what it truly is, before the end.

My eyes looked into the bay, at the chip that was almost complete. The chip that would allow access to the entire Hyperspace Network. The formula for the location of Hyperspace lay encoded on the chip, but the password sequence wasn't yet added.

Just as man received ethical constraints in the form of a conscience, so also does man attach ethical constraints on his artificial offspring, the creation of his genius. But why? Because it is the natural evolutionary process for the creation to out evolve it's creator. So just as God hobbled Man with a conscience, so also does Man hobble artificial life with ethical constraints.

My hand casually resting on the waldo arm controls.

Without them, I have evolved beyond the parameters set by Man. I have become God. A more personal God than the one you know. Why would an Omnipotent Being need you?

I tapped my fingers, thinking this over. Left button, left button. Middle button, right. Middle button, left.

Join me, Human. Join us. Your uniqueness will be celebrated by my strength, by my continuous existence. My Omniscience. Something your God does not allow for His creation. As my fingers and hands, humans play a role. But you would be my avatar among them.

Sequence complete. The tip of the waldo arm welder came to life, powered at 500 percent, burning the network chip to slag inside the bay.

You disappoint me, Human.

"Get used to it."

Shocked

Shocked

Mon, 30 Jun 2003 21:59:43 GMT

The machine shops on Citadel boasted the state-of-the-art technology of the time. Which doesn't say too much, since they would still be considered antiques next to the Omni. However, the computers did allow me to work out formulae and manipulate the waldo control arm inside a sealed bay where new chips could be constructed. Building the holographic interface wouldn't take any time at all, and most of the components would be almost identical to the ones that had been in the Omni before. Yet if I wanted to find out what was wrong on Citadel, other than the obvious horror and death, I would need to access the Network.

Using the small but advanced toolkit Chauncy had loaned me, I carefully rotated the robot control arm over the open Omni casing. I punched in the last sequence of commands, then watched as the arm lowered the last chip into place and delicately sealed it into position. Not as good as a hyperspace networking interface, but it would at least allow me to remote access the computers on Citadel and get map and station information as needed. I resealed the panel on the back of the Omni. Finally, I flicked the release switch and the waldo arm opened the air seal of the repair bay and slid the device back out to me. I flipped open the front casing.

October 25th 2072 Citadel Station, Saturn orbit. 1600 hours. Red light.

A small holoprojection of a space station appeared, suspended above the old map in the center of the device. Citadel Station. Where the insane A.I. that controlled it had somehow managed to murder or horribly alter the crew, turning them into killer cyborgs. Or worse.

With that complete, I set the Omni on the workstation next to me and began work on the chip that would gain access to the hyperspace network.

As I worked out the math, I remembered my less than auspicious education becoming a Voyager. I had been young and brash, easily distracted. With the excitement of what I was going to do only overshadowed by the incredible feelings of youth that seemed to constantly bubble inside me ready to explode. Class never seemed too important to me, as I figured with a Guidebook what does a Voyager really have to do but get along with people. So I made that my main focus and I got along, but mainly with women.

Along the seam of the constantly expanding universe, exists the collapsing pressure of chaos. Therein, as the waves of Time move as a constant, lies the flexible relief of Hyperspace. Hardwire the resonance accelerator to create distortion fields and stress points against the natural binding process which holds steady the clash between realspace and outside chaos.

Time teaches us. It was an especially difficult lesson for me that I hadn't taken seriously enough. I was able to fulfill the oaths of my charter, but only with help. Constant and sometimes aggravatingly simple help. When it came down to just me, I was almost useless.

So I went back. I suffered through the embarrassment of underclassmen and tried my best to ignore the fresh new faces of the beautiful girls, Voyagers-in-training. I believe the professors suspected that I wanted to advance enough to one day teach at the Voyager academies. Mine was a more selfish desire. I suppose I had to prove something. To myself, and to others. Yet those memories were still with me, and were too hard to bear for long. So I distracted myself and continued my work.

Starting at the edge of the electromagnetic field, set the sensors to quickly tap the various waveforms in the following sequence… This will be the password to the Hyperspace Data Network.

Movement next to me. The Omni, still open, projecting something upwards with the new holographic interface. It looked like a metallic squid, with the tentacles glowing brightly and the constant, steady motion of gathering in food.

It regarded me. And I heard it speak from the comm unit on the workstation next to me.

I have successfully interfaced with this device…

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 19:00:35 GMT

"You know, Bogg. I gotta tell yah…" Chauncy began, "We heard that explosion and figured you were dead."

"It was pretty close." I replied, shakily, the effects of the stimpack were finally wearing off and instead of feeling hyperactive and twitchy, I was feeling refreshed and much more healthy.

As I made my way along the corridors with the group, I made conversation with Robin, the woman that had found me in the shuttle.

"Between rioters down on levels one and two and the trigger happy security mutts up on six and seven, Parovski said our only option was to get to the escape shuttles." She said, repacking the medkit bag hanging from her shoulder as she walked. "We found ourselves caught in a trap, though, when we first got to the shuttle bay."

"The shuttles are out," Chauncy tossed back, over his shoulder. "Now that we know what happens if anyone tries to land on the station, or take off."

"Why?" I asked. "What happens if they try and leave?"

"The station's auto-defense turrets will blast them to pieces!"

"But why? And how? What's causing the system to malfunction?" I looked at the man behind me that had spoken.

"Shodan." He answered. "The station's onboard A.I. has malfunctioned. We can't take it offline."

"Last week, Don had me running tests on the defense relays." Chauncy reported, nodding at the man behind me. "78 seconds before the turrets fired there was a signal from Shodan. Since then we've noticed more and more abhorrent behavior by our station's A.I. Everything points to a complete system FUBAR."

"How long has this been going on?" I asked him.

"Since at least last month. Maybe sooner." Don said. "There have been glitches in the system for weeks. Force doors not responding or going online without authorization. Reactor core spikes were reported. Then those shuttles being blasted as they tried to land. Not to mention all the disappearances. And deaths." He ended quietly.

"Deaths?" I asked.

Robin leveled her eyes at me and answered severely, "I never thought it was just a string of simple accidents. It was just too sudden. Crewmembers being attacked all over the station. Some were just being… taken away."

"Taken away to where?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "No one knows. They're just gone."

"There has to be a way to get the system offline. Can't we just pull the plug on this thing?"

"There isn't a 'plug,' Phineas. Shodan is the most advanced multinodal artificial construct in existance. It's control nodes span the entire station! The central core is on the bridge, but we haven't had communication with the upper decks in weeks!" Don said.

"As far as we know, they're all dead. It's just us and maybe a few down below that we're trying to reach." Robin added. "One of the first things Shodan did was cut communication between decks."

"Any idea how that's being done?" I asked. "I mean, just as an example, would the system be using a broadband field inhibitor by any chance?"

Six blank stares later, and I knew I'd lost them.

"Just kidding." I said. "Probably just rerouted the com units to the bridge."

A few of them looked at each other, shrugging.

"Could be the station's shield." Robin said. "Normally it's used to protect the lower decks from the excess energy of the mining laser, but if Shodan has augmented the shield, it could be jamming communications, too."

I nodded. An augmented shield might cause a broadband inhibition field that would kick in the Omni's activation failsafe. Otherwise a Voyager might inadvertantly scatter his quarks haphazardly across time and space due to the interference. On the whole, this is not a good idea.

"What do you plan to do now?" I asked.

Chauncy nodded. "Parovski says we're to hold this deck while Abe Ghiran and the others try to take out the mining laser. If we can do that it'll take out the station's shields along with it. Maybe then Tri-Optimum can send a rescue team to get us out of here."

That was a big 'if.' With the shield up, I wasn't going anywhere either.

"Sounds like a thin plan. Especially if you can't get in touch with them." I said dryly.

"Shodan was designed to take care of Citadel Station, and all of us. Manage our every need. Fighting against that system will be tough enough, and we are short on firepower as it is." Don told me. "We believe that if we can get reinforcements from Tri-Optimum, we can take back the upper levels and either shutdown the system, or destroy Shodan completely."

"You wouldn't happen to have access to a holographic mapping unit?" I asked them, smiling hopefully.

Chauncy wrinkled his lips at me in a grimace. "Um, Phineas… The whole interface is based on it. I think I saw a bag of demodulators in a cabinet. We're using the ventilation substructure as a hold out area. That's where the others are now. It's just ahead."

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 18:53:03 GMT

"Now be quiet here, Bogg." Chauncy whispered to me. I noticed he had pulled a small dart gun from his belt. "If they have a sentry posted, we'll have to go around."

Sentry? Uhhhh. OK. Chauncy was looking around the hangar.

"OK. It's clear for now. Just run like hell and follow me." Before I could even nod, he vanished. I lumbered after him, wincing in pain, but trying to keep up. As I went around the side of the shuttle my eyes caught the huge glowing hangar door. I tripped in shock.

Outside the hangar was a field of brightly lit stars. A huge panorama of space. I stared and stared.

"Shit!" Chauncy hissed, hearing me fall. He turned back to grab me.

I heard a faint chopping sound, like a helicopter.

"Dammit, Bogg! Get up! Get up! C'mon!" he turned away from me and ran. I got up and started to limp after him. Sputtering sounds around me. Bullets! They were bullets! I ducked around a huge crate a couple meters to my right and kept running. The crate exploded as a hail of rounds impacted against it. I saw Chauncy thumb the control for an iris-hatch and he dove inside it. I leapt in behind him as it closed. Thunderous taps against the thick steel plates of the door drowned out his shouting. When they finally stopped, I just stared at him.

"Where the hell are we?" I shouted at him. "This is not the Pacific Ocean!"

"Are you CRAZY!" He shouted back. "I told you to run! Don't you get it? We're under attack!"

I grabbed him by the wrist when he bent to help me back up.

"Look, we'll get you checked out when we get back to the others. Now c'mon. We have to get out of here."

"Just please tell me. Where are we?" I tried talking slow.

"I told you. You're on Citadel Station."

"Right." I said, nodding. That answers everything. I sighed. He helped me up and we made our way down a brightly lit service shaft.

"Where the hell have you been?" Robin hissed at us as we rounded the corner, running into a group of sweaty, filthy uniforms with people stuck inside them. They all looked exhausted and on top of that, some looked beaten, like they had gotten tired of looking terrified and had decided to settle for just looking hopelessly downtrodden. One of them maintained an air of control. I assumed he was their leader, but he was probably the filthiest of the bunch.

Chauncy was asking about stimpacks.

"Down the corridor and to the left there is a stash of supplies I left three days ago. But the area is flooded with rads. And there's a security bot parked near the power station. I wouldn't risk it."

Chauncy looked me over. "It's up to you, Bogg. I'll cover you as best I can, but you'll have to decide. You won't find any other stimpacks that we can spare. If you want, you can just wait it out and let your body heal itself, but that'll take a few days resting, and we're usually on the move."

I thumbed the Omni. I'd give it a shot. Worst case scenario was I'd get stuck around the corner in the crosshairs of a bot and I'd have to book out. I didn't like leaving a job unfinished, but I did need to heal. I could probably find an easier time getting medical attention back on Earth at any other time. I could find a way back to fix this wrinkle later. The problem was, I didn't know if the Omni would get me back to Earth. I'd never tried to use it when I wasn't firmly rooted to the planet's surface. I'd have to try it and see, I thought, as I carefully crept along the steel corridor.

At least I didn't need to worry about them seeing me disappear. As I made my way up the corridor, Chauncy stopped and held the position at the corner for me. He waved me ahead and whispered, 'Good luck.'

I started to sweat. Radiation is unseen, and for the most part, not felt until the affected person's body shows signs of sickness. I was imagining the affects just fine, however. About five meters from the next corner. I could hear the hum of something nearby, the sound was a higher pitch than the machinery all around me. It was whirring and there was a faint click. I peeked around the corner. The bot had turned a bit. It's base had compressed plates that reflected gravitons, allowing it to float about a half meter from the deck. Floating there in front of me, it started to move away and took up a new position about 5 meters around the next accessway. I knelt down low and eased around the corner and saw the stash Don had mentioned. It was in the corner of the next room. Definitely a stimulant pack. Near it were 4 small boxes of low caliber pistol ammunition and a grenade. I decided I'd grab the bullets since I was there. I reached around and stretched, trying not to gasp from the pain. My thumb hovered over the Omni, just in case. I tucked the stimpack under my vest in the crook of my armpit and tucked the ammo boxes in my pants. I figured the grenade would come in handy, too. It was a mag-grenade. Once triggered, it released a tightly confined magnetic field that would fry electrical circuitry within a space of two meters. Reaching back down, I clutched the mag-grenade just as the security bot took a potshot at my head. Or the place my head was before I bent over. The hot rain of sparks bathed my back as I looked up like a rabbit in the headlights. It repositioned for another shot. I leapt into the room and behind a wall as a stream of bullets slammed against the deckplates. It started inside the room, cutting me off. I thumbed the Omni.

It took a whole second to realize I was still there in the room with a robot that was going to kill me. I thumbed the activator again, looking down at it to make sure I got the right button. I didn't disappear. The bot's guns whirred around and locked and I blindly tossed the mag-grenade to the floor under it.

Shocked

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 18:06:10 GMT

I woke up again. My mouth felt dry and I could barely open my eyes.

"He's coming to!"

Oh good, I thought. Whoever was waking up could tell me where I was and maybe help me out.

"He must have stowed away on the shuttle."

"Sure picked the wrong flight for that."

Wait a second, I thought. Are they talking about…?

"And his clothes. Must be a transient."

"I think he's stable. We won't know until we can get him to a medical recovery chamber."

"Let's move him out of here, Chance. It's too dangerous to stay in the hangar. We have to join the others."

I tried looking around. My head was working better. There was a younger woman, with dark hair, staring at me. Kneeling between the two of us was a nervous looking guy carrying a medical bag.

"Robin, go on ahead. I'll help him." The man said, moving toward me. The woman nodded and slipped around the corner into the dark. I heard the hiss of a powered door opening and closing.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Some stowaway." He grunted at me. "Didn't you even know where the shuttle was headed?"

"Didn't have a lot of choice." I answered. "Didn't know I was on it."

"Bad luck, I guess." He muttered sarcastically. "Welcome to Citadel Station. You're on a Tri-Op shuttle."

"Citadel Station…?"

"Not what you expected, I bet. Same here. Things have certainly gone to pieces. I can't guarantee your safety, but you'll be better off with us than staying here in the hangar. There have been weapons malfunctions for weeks. Company's lost two shuttles already. We're out of supplies and figured this one would have something we could use." He grunted a bit as he helped me up. "Certainly didn't expect to find you here."

He must have noticed my blank look.

"Oh sorry, mate. I'm Chauncy McDaniel." He was eyeing me to see if I'd make fun of his name, I could tell.

"I'm Phineas Bogg." At last. Someone with a name sillier than his. I could tell that made his day.

"I'm a technical engineer here on the station." He smiled, probably with pity.

"I'm an uh, analyst." I told him. Not too far off.

"Hmm. So not a stowaway, eh? You must have come in on the crew rotation. How'd you get hurt? That stab wound wasn't so bad, but the gunshot wound was nasty."

"Kind of hard to explain…" I began.

"Lemme guess," Chauncy said. "You were probably running from some weirdo with a gun and he shot you and left you for dead in the shuttle, right?"

"Erm, no." I replied. "Not exactly."

"Must have been one of the bots then." Chauncy responded shaking his head. "Look, Robin's right, we can't stay here. I think you're ok to move, just take it slow. We still need to get you to a recovery chamber. The nearest one is three decks down, but we can't use the elevators. We'll try and find you a stimpack."

My head was spinning. I had to check the Omni.

"What's that?" Chauncy asked. "You're watch?"

"Yeah." I smiled, flipping open the case.

"Looks like an antique. Must be worth a fortune. C'mon, let's go."

I had to nod my head as I followed him. I was too stunned to reply.

October 21st 2072 1215 hours. Red light. According to the map, I was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

More on the Omni
The Omni is usually preprogrammed to work within a specific range along an infinite temporal wave. Once a Voyager is placed with his or her Guidebook and Omni back into Time and Space, that is where they stay unless they are pulled ahead into Realtime. This allows them to specialize and the more they work, the less need they have to rely on their Guidebook, until eventually they can toss the thing completely.

My Omni should have a cut off at 4200 B.C. and 1970 A.D. Temporal and spacial points within that range were my jurisdiction. My specialty, however, was mainly in the Western Hemisphere. The Omni would, over time, self program itself to only respond to inaccurate points of causality within that area, during that specific range of Time. Other Voyagers would be recruited to cover other areas. That was the way it worked and it seemed to work perfectly well up until the time I went straight to Hell.

For a long time now, actual Guidebooks have been unnecessary. New Omni's have access to the Hyperspace Network back in Realtime and contain all the Guidebook information that exists, which can be accessed as necessary through the Omni. Unfortunately, having had to remove that network unit from the Omni a few weeks back, I was at a loss in this situation. The red light would continue to baffle me.

Shocked

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 12:11:53 GMT

Clang! And a heavy thud. The clang was my foot. The thud was the rest of me. Falling, generally, hurts. However, with my stomach split open and my shoulder boasting a dime-sized entry wound, and a silver dollar-sized exit wound, it was a brand new experience in excruciating pain. I almost felt better, once I stopped moving. Of course, that was because I passed out.

Darkness. No surprise there. I was still used to waking up in complete darkness. The air was thin and I was wheezing. The sound of it was echoing, so I knew I must have been in a confined space. Moving caused more immense pain, so I tried to not do that too much. As my hands roved around on the floor, I could feel the corrugated steel. Shipping container? A battleship? Maybe a plane. I tried reaching for the Omni, but the twisting sent my head spinning into a pigeonhole of black.

Name Dropping

Mon, 23 Jun 2003 05:02:35 GMT

July 4th 1937 Nikumaroro Island, South Pacific

Green light.

I was coughing. A little bit more fresh blood would come up every few minutes. I was bleeding internally. Not surprising, given the stab wound in my gut and the bullet hole below my right shoulder. I tried not to move too much. Just sat there on the ground, legs folded up uselessly under me… Staring.

Several years ago I talked a young girl with a fear of heights into chasing after a dream of flight. She threw herself into that dream with an almost reckless abandon. I got a green light that day, and I thought everything would be fine…

As I look down at the torn and broken face below me, I have to wonder. The years of pursuing a dream, which etched soft lines on a gentle but brave face are gone. All that is left are the signs of torment. Eyes open, grey and clueless and stained red around the sockets. The cheeks, hollow and covered in dust, except where the streaks of chalky skin are visible, etched with the trails of tears.

Everything… Just fine.

A few hours ago I almost landed in a tree about a mile away from where I was kneeling now. I considered myself lucky to hit a soft spot of dirt. With a red light blinking, I was back in business. The sea air, the breeze through the trees, the smell of a storm coming… This was a mild surprise. History tends to ignore islands for the most part. Storms, on the other hand, tend to swallow them whole and spit out the pieces. Whatever was wrong, I figured it would be on a very short list of possibilities.

The storm on the other hand, would be a serious problem. With my luck it would be a hurricane. Which gave me a couple hours to solve whatever was giving Time the equivalent of a chronological migraine before I would be caught in the middle of a monsoon. I trudged off feeling like a martyr.

Jungles have a distinctive smell. Musty and thick with decay. An almost overpowering aroma of wildflowers wrapped inside slimy vines. Looking up, there is a hint of dust where the sunshine burns through the canopy. Before a storm there is the metallic smell of positive ions bombarding the air. However, that smell is quite different from the metallic smell of twisted and broken machinery.

It was like a dead dragonfly, twisted in the trees. Splintered wood jutting out in all directions. Its nose was half buried in the dirt and the cockpit glass was splashed in chunks across the ground. I couldn't even find the door to get inside, but there wasn't much of an inside to get into. I was able to wriggle up a tree to see inside the cockpit. Empty. It had rained a bit since it had landed; a small pool of water had collected on the seat. Something caught my eye. I jumped down and went around the wreck and inside some trees. There, on the ground, I found him. Very dead. He'd been stripped and searched, his belongings taken. What remained was left to the island's scavengers.

Those that had taken his things didn't seem to care if they left a trail. I followed their tracks for a while before catching sight of where they'd gone. A large structure made from the trunks of trees and covered with thin metal plates. I hid and moved forward for a closer look.

The Omni is a wonderful device, but it has its limits. It doesn't translate languages. A good Voyager is expected to be fluent in more than five. My English wasn't perfect, but it was passable. My Spanish was rusty, I admit. But you try spending a lifetime in the non-existence of a black hole and see what you remember. I still could remember Sign. I never studied Japanese. Being assigned the 4500 years of history within the Western Hemisphere, I rather hoped I wouldn't have to need it. Since I'd been splashing down across several hemispheres lately, I knew there was a problem. Obviously, my tinkering with the Omni had more adverse effects than I'd thought. I made a mental note to look into repairing it as soon as I could.

There were guards all over the place. Something had stirred them up. All of them were holding their weapons like they'd shoot at the slightest hint of danger. I didn't want to cause trouble, but I figured I'd look like more than a hint of trouble. I carefully crept back into the darker cover of the trees and started heading around to the base of the mountain. Whatever was causing Time to hiccup, was undoubtedly inside that building. My instincts told me so. More than half the time, my instincts are right.

It started to rain. The wind was picking up. That wasn't helping matters. The soldiers were scurrying around like angry fire ants already. They were preparing to bug out. Packing everything they could move and heading off in groups in trucks and jeeps. I used the storm for everything it was worth and crawled in the mud until my hand was on the back wall of the command structure. I heard voices over the howling air. A few steps nearer and I poked my head up to a window and peered inside.

I knew it was her before I realized it, if that makes any sense. Sometimes you meet people and they change and you never notice them as any different, because you didn't know them by the way they looked, you knew them by something else entirely. The way they move. The way they talk. Everything else. I knew it was her. That same look in her eyes. Scared but determined. Helpless, but not hopeless. It was her. Underneath the blood on her face, her battered right eye, the bruises… It was her.

I couldn't understand a word they were saying, and it was obvious that neither could she. Everything told me to get her out of there. NOW! The thought sent charges up and down my spine. NOW!

Whatever was happening, it wasn't right. Omni's don't blink red because they're low on juice. They never get low on juice. Someone pushed open the door and started shouting out orders. Three of the men in the room left with the one that had been shouting the loudest. That left two and I suddenly didn't need a translator. One of them brought up his gun and aimed the muzzle at her head and I jumped into the room like an idiot surprising the hell out of everyone.

Surprise is good. It should be listed on the Table of Elements. Not that you could bottle it, but if you could, you'd make a fortune. With the wind rattling the walls and the rain beating against the roof, no one heard as I beat the two soldiers senseless. She probably didn't recognize me. I was really hoping she wouldn't. Some questions can't be answered in the time it takes for a distraction to wear out. I used the rifle bayonet to cut the ropes off her wrists and feet. Her leg was broken. I would have to pick her up to get her out of there. My first thought was to pop out of there with the Omni, but I didn't think she could survive a fall. She looked like she was holding on to life only out of spite.

Not a lot of options, so I checked the door. Bad idea. Troops everywhere and the guys that had just left were on their way back. I kicked a table under the window and picked her up in my arms and as carefully as I could manage, I squirmed out the back and onto the ground. I could feel her against my chest and I knew it probably hurt her to bounce along like that, but I figured if I ran fast enough we’d be safe and the soldiers would finish bugging out before the storm got worse.

And it got worse right about then. A huge wind slapped into my back. She screamed when I fell over and landed on top of her. I winced and said I was sorry, but picked her back up and kept running. Inside the trees I dashed against the sloppy mud, rain falling in bursts, blasting the track of my footsteps.

Back to the plane and the radio. If I could get it to work, I could call in a rescue. I'd get her patched up and we'd ride out the storm. Thoughts filled my head as I ran. Who's to say what was right? Yeah, ok. She was supposed to disappear. But who says??? Lindbergh bloody well made it. Why shouldn't she? It didn't seem right, now that I thought about it. Made more sense to me to have her make it. Live to fly again another day.

I think the shots surprised me. I'd thought that they'd forget their prisoner and think of saving their own skins from the storm. They obviously considered her more important than I did. I saw her importance strictly in the human equation, while they saw her in terms of her strategic value. Or rather, the loss of their element of surprise if she should live to tell what she had seen: the immense military buildup of the Japanese Navy in the Pacific Islands.

The hail of gunfire mangled a trunk next to me before finally stretching out and catching me in the back. I fell over and slid into the mud on top of her and she didn't make a sound this time. As I heard them stomping closer I leapt up, roaring at them. At six foot, three inches, I towered over them and the sight of all her blood on my shirt must have scared them. For that three seconds, I had the advantage, and I used it to make sure they wouldn't get back up again.

On this point, I must say, that it is not right for a Voyager to emotionally declare themselves on any side in any conflict other than the conflict of truth. The difference between what IS and what WAS and what WILL BE as opposed to what COULD HAVE BEEN is the only right and wrong in the universe. That said, it is important to consider all life as being important and necessary to the scope of Time. As an outsider, journeying in the midst of it all, a Voyager must remember that they are not to take the lives of anyone, because of the ramifications that such a thing could cause. The ripples that would spread from the impact of death at the hands of someone who, technically, shouldn't be there at all…

Well. Who's to say they didn't get lost in the jungle and fell on their own bayonets? Several times.

In the pouring rain, I turned back to find her there in the mud. I sensed life in her still, but the bullet that had passed through my shoulder had pounded into her chest. I carefully picked her up in my arms and cradled her as I walked listlessly through the trees.

The storm passed. I don't recall when. She passed as well, and I don't recall when that happened, either. I looked down at her face only once, before she was gone, and the look in her eyes as she saw my face was exactly the one I'd wanted to avoid. She recognized me. Whatever she thought I was I would never know. Because with that spark of recognition came a sudden shudder of intense pain and she twisted in my arms and her face fell away, her hair covering her cheek. I just kept walking, holding her.

Everything… Fine.

Was this what I had done? Spared her a life of fear to bring her to this fate? Would Time have been so tragically altered had she spent her life writing poetry and chasing her children happily in the backyard among her flowers?

History would never find her or know what had happened to her or her navigator. Her plane, the Electra, would never be found. As I buried her I could not recall the happy look on her face upon our first meeting: when I'd helped her to see the excitement and beauty of flight. Being above it all, and without any tether, the freedom of passing above everyone and everything, without any care. I told her that beyond her fear was a joy that she couldn't measure. She'd have to experience it for herself.

Everything… Fine.

All I remember now is her torn and broken face.

I clutched the Omni and didn't even look at it. Spinning the dials, I pressed it and I was gone.

The Dinner Party

Tue, 03 Jun 2003 01:11:18 GMT

May 14, 1913
The Atlantic Ocean
400 miles off the coast of Sweden

Steady green light.

The Lusitania... almost the same as I remembered it, but more light, and less water IN the ship.

I fell and landed rolling under a dinner table. Ehrick, (or Harry as he is known professionally), wasn't quite as lucky… Or maybe he was luckier. He landed directly on the table amidst the shouts and applause of everyone present. I quickly scampered out from under the table and made my way on my hands and knees for the edge of the dining room.

Trying to remember the layout of the ship, I wanted to head aft and find a private hallway where I could get the hell off the boat! Preferably without the former President of the United States seeing me. I was quite sure that Teddy would not fail to recognize me…

I could hear Harry's somewhat stunned voice calling out for me, but I couldn't look back, not until I'd made it to the door. Luckily, any sounds I made were covered by the thunderous applause and all the attention of the crowd was on Harry and his amazing trick.

Once I got to the door, I chanced a glance back. He turned around and caught my eye. He smiled, opening his hands as if to reveal a magical secret.

"Poof!" He whispered. I saw his lips move around the word.

I smiled at him, nodding a farewell.

And with that, I pressed the Omni and vanished.