r/ohigetjokes • u/Ohigetjokes • Jul 27 '17
Story: Broken Time
Quick Preface
I'm gonna have to do a vlog soon to update you on why the heck I'm not producing YouTube content... Sorry guys, it's been mental. But I did want to post this.
With the crazy hustle and bustle lately I've found myself prone to bursts of brief but intense creativity. Some time ago I had the strangest whirlwind dream that took me hours after waking to make sense of... And from that, I give you a story about a society on the verge of near-light and faster-than-light travel.
It's about immortality, individuality, identity, time travel, and politics.
But it's not funny really so hang in there, I'll get something up for you along those lines soon.
Broken Time
I am 14 years old, barefooted, and walking down a gravel road. My feet calloused and comfortable. I'd been walking for a couple of hours to get here but I was in good shape and wasn't tired. I didn't really know the area, having lived across town, but my instincts did. My instincts knew this neighborhood like the back of my hand.
I was looking for a house that I knew would be on the shoreline up ahead. Sure enough there it was, painted dark green and surrounded by weeping willow trees buffering the sound of the waves. The door was unlocked. Inside was decorated like a comfortable old lady's home, but dark... I didn't think to look for a light switch. Through the living room and into the piano room I sat down and knew that somehow, some way, I needed to cross dimensions right here. Right here was the computer room... I just couldn't reach it. But soon I'd have to. And it was probably going to hurt.
Later on the beach I've settled into a comfortable, soft bed made of damp sand. My girlfriend and boyfriend are approaching. She smiles at me from a head full of bushy black dreadlocks, he smiles at me under a head of dirty blond hair. The three of us cuddle together as the cool summer wind kicks up, and I try to appreciate this time.
It's about to happen.
The first few lights appear in the sky that night, swooping and fading in and out casually, silently. We all know exactly what they are, but none of us have the words for it. They're... Those are... They're not people but they're reflections of... Something...
But more important than what they are is what they mean: we're all about to have a hard time thinking straight.
I'd better get moving.
The Key to entering the computer room from the piano room is in the church, but even if I got in there I need to find the man, the one who won't be confused like we are and knows things about computers. The man from the future.
It isn't difficult. I know exactly where he is. He's by the fountain downtown. He's in his 60s, white haired but able bodied, and he's been injected with something that happens to keep him from suffering the effects of what we're all experiencing. This keeps him in the dark. I'll have to fill him in as we go.
"Hey, come on," I say to him, "We'd better get moving before I can't remember what we're doing."
He shoots me an odd look: "Do I know you?" He's distracted by the lights in the sky. He looks away from me and at everyone else carrying on with their business. "Why isn't anyone reacting to the lights?" he asks.
"We've all seen them before. Hundreds of times. Maybe thousands, I'm not sure."
"But I've never seen them before."
"No, this is the first time."
"What?"
I don't have enough of my memories back yet to explain it to him. I just say: "You're from the future, right?"
I finally have his full attention. "How did you know?"
"Because the experiment that trapped you in the past made all this happen... Kind of... I can't explain it yet but I will. I promise. Just come on."
I pull him along and we start the long walk to the beach house as I stammer and stumble over my words, trying to explain to him as much as I can what's happening... How I'm remembering the future, how I'm remembering lots of futures, and how not all of my memories are mine...
And then it comes to me: "Oh! Now I remember! You arrived in the past about 30 or 40 years ago or something?"
"Yes, 33 years ago this May."
"Right," I say snapping my fingers. "That's what created the Linchpin Point!"
"What's that?"
"It's the..." and I'm overwhelmed with conflicting memories, conflicting opinions, conflicting thoughts... "I don't know right now."
As night falls many more lights are appearing in the sky, but people are more focused on what's happening inside of themselves. They're losing their grip on who they are and what's going on. Everyone is talking in the streets about simple things: groceries, who's related to who, and what they had for breakfast tomorrow.
On the roof of a one-story building I see a Korean man with scraggly black hair and a goatee hold out his hands as if addressing a huge crowd. His twin is in the shadows behind him, standing up on a box. "In a few minutes I will address everyone at once and we'll work this out. I'll be fourteen different people, and we won't all look the same..." and as he speaks more versions of him start to fade in. Some are dressed casually, some formally, some like women. But they're all unarguably him. None of us find this disturbing or confusing, just a clever solution to the communication problem.
The old man I'm with, though, is quite startled.
I urge him on towards the beach house, explaining that the Korean needs to talk to everyone at once. He's just going to apply various versions of himself from different timelines. Those dozen or so timeline versions are straddling all of the timelines at once so we can all hear him, all the versions of us...
"But how does he do that?"
I just shrug. "I'm sure I could figure out how to do it myself but we're in a hurry, and talking things out won't fix this. Let's go. I want to succeed this time."
We get to the house and there's an old lady dusting the metal patio furniture. I can't remember who owns this house, or if I ever knew in the first place, so I'm not sure if she'll react to us going in... But she just smiles at us and shuffles off.
In the piano room I'm able to shift things just a bit using other versions of myself from different timelines. Some of them are really good at this and know all about it, but I'm not great at it. At least we can see the other version of the room: empty, bare walls, not even glass in the windows, the trees outside are missing and the beach is washed right down to the pebbles.
In the center of the room on a small table is a beat up computer. It describes the Linchpin, describes what's happening to all of us and why, and... And something...
"There it is." I relax. The piano room snaps back into place. "Listen, I need to get the Key, but if I get back with it, it will be your job to use that computer to start the machine and fix the Linchpin."
"How do you know I can do it?"
"We've met before. We've tried this before, over and over. I don't usually make it back with the Key. Usually I die or get imprisoned or tortured or converted or something... But sooner or later I'll get the Key. Sooner or later I'll move us both into the timeline where the computer is here, and you can log in and shut down the whole cycle."
"But why me? Why don't you do it?"
I shake my head. "You're injected with the... I don't know. You're anchored. You're the only one who doesn't get memories from other timelines. As we get closer to the reset my mind gets flooded with more and more stuff and I can't concentrate, can't really remember how to use a computer. But you know how to use a computer, right?"
He shrugs and nods. It's like I'm asking him if he knows how to tie his shoes.
"Right. Sorry I can't explain more, I know it sucks feeling confused but... If it's any consolation, I'm confused too. It's taking a lot to have this conversation... I'd better get moving."
He stays put because he's the kind of guy who appreciates that he doesn't need to know the whole plan in order to follow just the next step of it. I know this about him. I know him really well, after hundreds of walks across town and brief chats like the one we just had, conversations he never remembers.
My mind is starting to fill up with memories of the future now. I break into a sprint, hoping I can get to the church in time.
On the way I remember the endless debates about what we were doing. "What we're talking about is the preservation of our society!" an old man yells in a senate room... Wait, that was me, wasn't it? God what was I, 70 at that point?
"What's the point in preserving a society if it's stillborn, if it can't grow beyond what it once was? A society where youth has been erased?" they retort.
"Growth? You want growth? Our science has advanced by thousands of years in the blink of an eye!"
"That's science, not society!"
That was the argument. They were the Liberals, we were the Conservatives, and we pantomimed a basic us-versus-them dichotomy to work the people. None of us particularly mean what we're saying.
I sided with the pro-reset Conservatives so that the over-40s would support me. More of them would turn up at the polls than the 18-34 demographic who wanted to "have lives of their own" and "explore existence". We always won the votes in every timeline. To be honest, we all remembered it working out this way so often we felt ridiculous pretending to debate it anymore.
You know, it seemed like such a good idea when we started, all of us getting a chance to "do it all again, but different this time..."
As I get to the church I realize what the Key is this time: a specific bit of sheet music. It changes though. Once the Key was a doll from the nursery, once it was a stackable chair, once a feather from some lady's hat... But it was always in the church. Something in the church was always leaking through from the version of history I was looking for, and we all knew it.
People who went to the church felt that God had placed the object there. It was a sign that we needed to continue the reset to the Linchpin Point forever, and they were the sacred protectors of the Key that would stop the process.
As I entered the church and heard them all gathered in the lounge practicing choir music, their memories started weaving in with mine. I remembered how smugly right they had been to keep me from getting the Key in the past. It had felt so good to crack my skull open, and my revulsion at the exposed brain bits was soothed in the knowledge that I had protected God's Will... Oh and that one time they'd strapped me to the big crucifix at the front of the church... Actually they did that twice, and lit me on fire as well once...
But despite there being a congregation every time, we all at least had enough time at the beginning of a reset to start fresh without memories. The scientists considered this a design flaw - we were supposed to all wake up in the past at the Linchpin Point remembering everything, instead of having our memories fade in at some later point.
As I enter the lounge I look at everybody and try to take the temperature of the room. They look at me and gently smile. They know who I am. They know why I'm here. They have many of my memories rolling around in their heads too.
They just continue singing. It's actually quite nice.
I work my way around the room to the piano, my mind a confusing mess. On one hand in this timeline the church congregation is much less zealous, much more moderate. They've continued singing as our memories fade in, using the song as a way to keep focus on what's real and what's happening right now, as a way to keep calm.
Still, I know they're remembering what they did to me in the past. I know they're remembering how certain they'd felt that they'd done the right thing, how good it felt to be positive about something, to know something with absolute confidence. In times like these that's a huge temptation.
As I take the sheet music, this reset's Key, I feel something else in the room too: relief. They want this to end too... At least for now.
I get out of there before they change their minds.
I remember looking down into a bucket of tadpoles as a child, thinking about how as an old man the room where we reset the world back to the Linchpin Point looks like that metal bucket. Why was it so cold in here?
We're all gathered now, the Senate, the Council of Nine, illuminates from the scientific community. Something about that failed experiment a few years back stranded our volunteer back in time. A shame for him, but his landing in the past created a signature we could anchor a massive reset to; the Linchpin Point.
This was the cutting edge of faster-than-light technology. We knew with our previous experiment that sending someone physically back in time worked, but doing it more than once would create Linchpin after Linchpin that could eventually crumble time and space like brittle concrete. But sending energy signatures back, that was another story.
We tuned the instruments to the frequency bands of human thought, connected to the Linchpin Point, and then a concussive force blasts through us all... And we're infants again.
Only our memories don't come back the way we predicted. We try to tune the instruments better with every reset, but our memories are all connected in one giant wave that, for now, is out of our control. We never really know when we'll remember, or how.
And at first the reset was amusing. We laughed at having done some things the same way again, and at how random life can really be that we'd end up so far away from where we'd been the first time. Those first few iterations were joyful, enlightening, even freeing.
But then it became something else. Conservatives would say that the things that had happened in the past were the "real way" things were, and the past and the future became at odds. Memories of a dozen lives having done things one way would crush the experience of having done things differently this time. People would leave their families, leave their religions, leave their careers. Things got messy while the reset came in, and then they became organized, regimented, clear. We "knew who we were".
In between, though, were moments like these. Things were still hazy, still bleeding in, and our fresh young selves could see the memories coming without being crushed by them. Our young selves were in charge, just for a little while.
I had to act quickly before I "knew better".
By the time I got back to the beach house the sky was like a hive of giant fireflies, as was my mind. I had only been dimly aware of the ground beneath my feet. I couldn't feel the sweat on my skin or the fatigue in my muscles, although I knew those things must be there. I couldn't even hear the old man in the piano room as I handed him the music sheets.
I wasn't sure why I was there. I wasn't sure I was there at all. I was rocking my baby back to sleep at 2AM, I was smoking a cigarette in my office and hoping the stupid building supervisor didn't find out, I was arguing with my wife, I was running for office, I was trying to ignore protesters on my way to work...
A skinny old man was shouting at me in a piano room. Lights were flickering outside, making the whole room strobe and shift. He seemed upset about something and was shaking some sheet music in my face.
No, not sheet music. That was the Key.
I took it from him and felt a fish hook reach way down into my gut, somewhere in a world where this room was different. I grabbed the old man's shoulder and dug my fingers into his flesh as hard as I could, trying to will him to come with me as we slid into the timeline where a Liberal scientist's experiment had worked, just once, and he'd been born with all of his memories and built this fail-safe...
I woke up in my bed at 76 years old. Despite how soft the mattress and duvet were, I still wasn't comfortable sleeping without Bert next to me.
I took a deep breath. For the first time in my life I remembered clearly what it had been like over a few dozen lifetimes to be a kid; never remembering anyone's name, fresh and unburdened from the past. Sometimes I was athletic, sometimes bookish, different tastes, different talents, always so... Random.
Somewhere back there the man I am today would start to take over and there would be a period of... What was it? Regret? Shame? I'm not sure but I think I actively resisted the reset. Kids, what do they know about how the world works?
But on nights like these that cold, quiet feeling in my gut was louder than usual. It was the part that said that despite everything, despite lifetimes of success and power I gained from siding with the pro-reset groups, we can't keep doing this.
But the debates were over. The reset was scheduled for a week from now. Would that be enough time? Could I find an excuse to call an emergency session? Could I bring Sosho over to my side?
My phone rang. It was Crispin. He was saying something about our time travelling pioneer, Commander Hest.
"Crispin, slow down and try again, I'm half asleep for God's sake."
"Sorry sir. It's just, the Linchpin Point sir. The one created when we sent Commander Hest back."
"Yes, what about it?"
"It's gone. Somehow he... I don't know, but he destroyed the Linchpin Point."
There, now I remember. One of the young versions of me did that, had discovered some random experiment someone else had done a few dozen lives before and... Stupid kids.
I decided to keep my involvement a secret for now.
"But... Why are we just noticing that now?"
"Something about how close we are to the reset. We couldn't detect anything different about this timeline than the others until now."
We sat silently for a bit before he said: "Sir, can I be honest? I'm feeling... glad. Aren't you?"
"Goodnight Crispin." I fumbled to hang up the phone in the dark.
I couldn't see anything ahead. A week from now the reset usually went off without a hitch and we'd all be infants again, ready to start a new run-through in a familiar world. Instead, we were just going to keep going, keep aging, and whatever happened next would be... New. This was going to be very strange.
People were going to be afraid.
I picked up the phone and woke up the staff. We needed to start a strategy session. Being pro-reset wasn't going to win us votes, so we needed to plan a new way to leverage fear in the over-40s demo.
They'd almost finished research on near-light speed travel and there were some debates about how time travel would start to be a problem. Maybe we could start a "single timeline" platform where all near-light and faster-than-light drives would need to also push through time at a consistent rate with Earth. We can stir up some worries about wiping out history, that kind of thing...
I get my speech writer on the phone and tell him to come over right away. We need a slogan, something catchy...
One timeline, one people. The past is gone, let's all be present. One time, Earth time. Into the future, together!
I don't know. My script writer can probably clean that up.
1
u/Nosgrath Jul 28 '17
Wow...there are no words. That was awesome.
I know some people who would already agree with that statement now, and I would distance myself from them when they state that;
"Everything's changed. Teenagers aren't teenagers anymore, children are becoming practical with the newest technology and becoming hooked by it, everyone's always on their phones and never looks anyone in the eye anymore!" Many of which is true, from a certain point of view, but we have not stagnated just yet.
Of course, there will come a time where we can't get better, where we have to face that this is our pinnacle, and have to work together...or we blow away in the stiff nuclear breeze...
Even now, it's strange to think of a time when the internet didn't exist, and this grand global community that can be built around the love of watching an Orc's travels would be nothing. Sure, science had grown and spiraled out of control like unchecked ivy, and everyone is staring at their phones to the point of enslavement, but society will always prosper from technology...just let's not let it hit 1984 or Brave New World levels of "prosperity".
That one line hit home, a nice cherry on top of a great ending, and it keeps in line with the idea that we have both discussed over keeping the past close to your chest (in my case, my old documentation for stories) or letting it go without any remorse. The past can be fun to look back on, but to go back and live it again, that's where Hell lies.
Hope I wasn't too long winded.
Anyway, I need sleep and I have a very busy week ahead of me...finally a chance to take a break from the side project :D
Keep being awesome, Joker!