A Flight to Remember: Part 1

A Flight to Remember

Part 1

A Living History

A Flight to Remember: Part 1 – A Living History 

Dom sat back, trying to relax in the pleather covered examination chair. It was teal and white with chrome edging, most likely designed with one of those automobiles they keep in the corporate museum from the mid twentieth century. Engineers, with their leather tool belts, darted back and forth, checking the connections to the hoses and wires that ran from the chair to the various equipment around the room. Some engineers were lifting up floor grates, leaving their lower half on the floor as their feet swayed up in the air. Others were squeezing between command consoles and coolant tanks, ensuring that nothing was loose or leaking. Scientists, in their white lab coats, checked readouts and tapped on gauges. Everyone in the massive room had a task, and each of them were constantly touching base with someone else either directly or over their radios. Everyone but Dom, who was told to sit in the chair until they were ready for him. 

Dom looked up at the massive piece of machinery over his head. A cylinder, ten feet across, hung from the ceiling. It was easily twenty feet long, with thousands of cables, hoses, panels, and display screens coming off of it in every direction. Attached to the bottom of the cylinder was a thick bar, maybe a few inches in diameter, that ended with a red lens, which glowed slightly. It was boxed by four prongs that also connected directly to the base, each ending in a set of electrical nodes. The nodes cracked as the electric arcs held steady, waiting for their opportunity to escape their currents.  

Dr. Marshall had explained how everything was supposed to work several times. The beam would digitally upload his atomic composition into the collider. It would then transfer him through the flux compacitors, which would then allow his photonic matter to be applied to the temporal stream. The electrical casing acts as a type of identification marker, allowing for accurate placement at the preferred destination, with a plus minus of .000083%. Dom had no idea what any of that meant, but ultimately it did not matter. As a historical agent, when Cornerstone Temporal Services and Catalogues tells you that you have been selected to participate in an investigation, you do not turn it down. Just like any Besides, there hadn’t been a mishap in over two years, which was pretty good when you consider that there are over three thousand transportation accidents each year.  

Just last week, it was reported that a thirty-year-old man became genetically spliced with a fly. In a moment of genius, someone was looking to save on their data plan by changing code in the accumulation program. Turned out that the individual actually changed the code in the foreign accumulation programing. The one that filters out foreign contaminates, causing the matter stream to redistribute the genetic markers. He took one step off the transporter, and fell to the ground convulsing. They say he lived for nearly six hours on life support while they attempted to reverse the process. 

Of course, even those incidents are few and far between when you compare them to the billions of transmissions occurring every hour. The early days were a nightmare. People losing limbs or organs, others just arrived dead on site. The Beta testers may have been paid a large sum, but the risk of death was way too high for Dom to ever consider being a test subject.  Luckily, there is no worry about providing any compensations today. The justice program provides all testing needs for the corporations. It’s efficient and fair, allowing the individual to make a meaningful contribution to the corporation and society as a whole. Depending on how well they participate, the corporation will even consider lifting any generational tariffs they may have produced in their, or their predecessors, judgements. 

It’s hard to believe that there ever was a time when people believed that their assigned role in society would have been better determined through their own actions and designs. Dom specialized in Late Period Civic Democracy, particularly the early twenty-first century. It was a chaotic time, which of course brought us to the Civic Wars and the dawn of the Corporate Age. At that time, Google was just a software corporation that was branching out into the developing tech market. Capitalism was merely a business model, corrupted and abused by the selfish ideals of democracy.  

Back then the nation was called North America and was broken up into three separate countries, Canada, United States, and Mexico. Each without a Board, but this thing called a Civil Government that was, in practice anyway, governed by a series of laws dictated by its members and elected by the populous to manage the nation. It wasn’t too hard to understand why the world was spiraling out of control. A nation based on anything other than foundational Capitalism leaves the people without purpose. Each person believing, they were capable of making macro decisions, which their laws decreed were applicable to each individual, regardless of bureaucratic station. It’s teachings, combined with public religion, another system meant to mislead the individual to their worth and govern their personal actions on a moral level, lead to rampant nationalism, sever social division that worked as a purposeful means to keep the people opposed to one another. It really was a baffling time. It was no wonder that they fell apart so quickly. 

Still, it was always good to remember these details, in the event that they become relevant during a mission. There is no point sending an historian, if they weren’t able to quickly know the base aspects of the age. If that were the case, they could just send anyone. True, having the neural interface makes obtaining such information incredibly easy. It is difficult to maintain a cover if you need to pause every time you are asked a question. 

“T-MINUS FIFTY MINUTES” The automated voice rang throughout the room. 

Dom was approached by one of the scientists. She was average height, brown hair put up in a tight bun. Dom couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was. Not the superficial attractiveness that the people with prosthetic faces have, but a natural look with high cheekbones and a gentle chin. Her brown eyes seemed nearly black compared to her pale skin. People in research divisions don’t find themselves outside very often, as such, regardless of heritage, they tend to be on the pale side. Her white coat was unbuttoned, revealing her form, thin, but filled out. Dom gave her the once over. She wore her Cornerstone jumpsuit with its bright Google national flag, flashing out as she briskly made her way around the engineers. In her left hand, she held a thick black case, that seemed to weigh her down a bit, judging by the way her shoulders slanted heavily to the side. 

“Chief Historian Officer Wallace.” she said, hand extended. “Executive Temporal Officer, Julie Fallowell. Let me, once again, thank you on behalf of Cornerstone for volunteering for this sending.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Dom replied. “And the pleasure is all mine. I have been training for this opportunity for a long time. It had been a dream of mine to actually get to see the twenty-first century myself. I want to sincerely thank you for choosing me for this sending.” 

“Well we are just as excited to have you.” Julie set the case on the floor next to the chair. “So, I understand that you have only been given the most basic of parameters for your sending, am I correct?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Oh, please, call me Julie. I have reviewed your file so many times, I feel that we are already close friends.” Julie said, with an awkward laugh. 

“Well, ok, very well, but only if you call me Dom. Deal?” Dom replied, flashing his own awkward smile back at her. 

“Sure, I mean, yes, Dom, sounds like a deal. So, let’s get to the technical parts of this trip.” Julie pulled a small tablet from her pocket, activating a holo-projection. “So, as you have been told, you will be going back to the twenty-first century. What I am about to show you is rated top-secret, by the National Board of Directors. For obvious reasons, we were not allowed to share this knowledge until we crossed the mission-go thresh hold.” 

Dom nodded his head, in acknowledgment, but remained silent. 

“This is an image of a craft we discovered, roughly a hundred miles north of the Cuberto archipelago.”  

Dom watched as Julie rotated the image of the craft, zooming in to show the single diver that was making their way towards it. Recognition suddenly appeared on his face. 

“Wait. Is that an airplane?” Dom asked. “Like, a real deal, fossil fuel airplane?” 

“I am glad to know that you are as astute as your file says you are. Yes, that is an airplane. A Boeing 777, if our records are correct.” 

Dom leaned closer towards the holo. The plane wasn’t very large, but flying crafts of that time would remain relatively small for the next hundred years or so. Still for the time, and a fuel-based propulsion system, it was a good size craft. From nose to tail, the craft was painted white, with a red and blue stripe that ran level with the wings. The tail was decaled with a C and an E, red on the top half, blue on the bottom, just like the stripe that ran its length. Each side had four hatches with a row of small porthole windows just above the line decal. Above the windows, on either side of the plan, was a word Dom was unfamiliar with. MALAYSIA. 

“Malaysia? I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the term.” Dom said, tentatively. When you are supposed to be the expert on something, it is potentially hazardous to your position to be ignorant of any part of it. 

“I am not surprised. I thought they were making up stories when they first told me.” Julie’s eyes lit up with excitement at Dom’s admission. “Apparently, there were thousands of island nations in southern Asia, far to the south east of the Myanmar-Yunnan island cluster.” 

“Oh, near where the Philippines were located. Ok that makes more sense. There were so many tiny nations back then, before the Antarctic thaw, it’s hard to remember the majority of them.” 

Julie’s excitement seemed to dim some. “Well, yeah. What makes this craft of even more interest, is that it is completely intact. As in, no physical damage anywhere on it.” Spreading her fingers, the holo zoomed in on the craft. “Not even any rust or corrosion is evident, almost as if it was sent directly from its time period, forward to us.” 

“Where there any people inside?” Dom asked. 

“From what the divers can tell, it is completely empty except that there are cloth boxes tucked away in cabinets above the seats, and scans show many more located in a hold on the bottom of the craft.” 

“Weird.” 

Julie’s voice dropped to a forced whisper, taking on a very serious tone. “That’s not the half of it. Despite the fact that it should have been under water for the last six hundred years, the interior is not flooded and the power system is still operational.” 

Dom sat back stunned. A fully preserved airplane from the twenty-first century. The amount we could learn about the culture and habits of the people.  

“Why aren’t we just moving it to the Historical Research Division? This is truly amazing!?” 

“Well, that is why you are here. We need to know how it got here. In case there is something dangerous that we need to know about. You are being sent back to March, 2014.” 

“Then I am assuming that the case has my cover?” 

“You would be assuming correctly.” She said playfully, opening the case. Inside was a set of clothes, a black suit that was typical of professional individuals. A white shirt, with a blue striped tie. A pair of black shoes and a black belt.  

Dom recognized the outfit as one that Elon Musk was wearing in his museum hologram. It would seem that they wanted him to look important, but not go all out with a Benzo suit. Wouldn’t want to make people think he was too rich. Next to the suit was an ID badge with a gold and blue Air Marshal shield, and a G-27 formless energy projector. 

“A G-27? Do they think it’s going to be that dangerous?” Dom asked, clearly uneasy at the weapon. 

“We are hoping it’s more of a precaution, but regardless, as an Air Marshal you should be armed am I right?” 

Dom sighed, and nodded his head. They were brutal times, and it was better to be prepared for it, rather than a victim.  

Julie continued, “Your return slate is built in to your brief case.” A black leather briefcase was set into the opposite side of the case. She popped it open, revealing a few manila folders with papers in them, pens, and a wallet. In the wallet was a picture I.D., three small plastic cards that were used for goods exchanges, each with enough currency to purchase a building. It only happened once, but since then it has been protocol to provide enough local currency to ensure any bartering needs. An eight-inch tablet was set in one of the pockets, and a grey laptop with a picture of an apple with a bite taken out on the top. Pulling a small tag on the inside of the briefcase, Julie lifted the liner to reveal the temporal relay processor. The inch and a half circle of quartz gave off a light glow, held in place by the clear silicone touch pad. 

“Due to the nature of your sending, we have overridden the DNA scan and set it for audio activation. Simply state your name and position, it has been attuned to your voice signature, and tell it to activate transfer. If you find that you cannot speak, then you will have to activate it manually, which is still DNA locked of course. 

Dom gave a bored nod. His training has had him using both types of activation in a stressful environment. Since the HTO has taken over as time agents there have only been six instances of failed return. Each of those were likely caused by the highly volatile environment they were going to. Pompeii, Atlantis, and Chernobyl were some of the obvious failed returns, but others could have been victims to violence, or just simply unlucky. Regardless, if the officer fails to log in within thirty-six hours, the temporal relay will begin to overheat and crack itself, wiping its data and destroying the device.  

Julie finished her boarding directions. “So, before I lock everything in for the sending, are there any questions or concerns?” 

“Not that come to mind.” 

“Excellent.” Julie closed the case and placed it into a holding slot just under Dom’s chair. A suctioning click confirmed that the case was secured in place. “Well Dom, good luck to you and safe journey. If all goes well, I will see you again in a just a little while.” 

“That sounds good. Maybe, if you’re not too busy, we could go out for a caffinette together?” 

Julie blushed slightly, “I’m going to have to think about it. I’ll let you know when you get back.”  

Dom smiled, “I guess I better make this quick then.” 

Julie returned a smile, locking eyes with him for a moment, before the engineers stepped in and began to prep Dom for the sending. 

It took another fifteen minutes for the engineers to fully secure Dom to his chair, reclining it back till he was nearly flat. Dom had gone through the process more than a dozen times, not including the simulators, but those had all been one day jumps. This would be Dom’s first real sending, and to a time where even the children were armed militants. He would just have to rely on his knowledge of the time period and his training. 

“Natalie.” Dom said out loud. 

A light binging sound went off in Dom’s ear, as his internal AI responded. “Yes, Dom. What may I do for you?” 

“I need to hone my twenty-first century culture. Find and compile a playlist of top songs, dominate genera’s only, spanning a thirty-year period.” 

“Would you like me to include any marketing jingles?” 

“Absolutely, they were always my favorites. Actually, start the list with the McDonalds Good Morning Song. I love that one.” 

“Not a problem, Dom. Starting playlist now.” 

Dom relaxed as the music allowed him to push back all the activity around him. Little by little, the scientists and engineers began to make their way out of the room to stand in the glass viewing rooms. 

“T-MINUS ONE MINUTE” The automated voice announced. Dom had been so caught up in his music, that he failed to notice the countdown announcements.  

“Natalie.” Dom said. 

“Yes, Dom. What may I do for your?” 

“Pause the playlist and monitor body functions for any temporal abnormalities.” 

“Not a problem, Dom. Monitoring body functions now. Would you like a display?” 

“Put it up in the left corner.” 

A green outlined representation of Dom’s body appeared in the upper left of his vision. Basic stats were displayed along the side, heartrate, respirations, blood pressure, and so on. 

The machine suspended over Dom began to hiss and buzz at it made its adjustments. The red light increased until the four prongs surrounding it crackled and buzzed, sending electrical currents directly to it. With that, the red light shot out, connecting with Dom just below his rib cage. He could feel his cells being excited, a sort of itchy, static-like feeling. The beam grew in intensity, and Dom could feel the heat from it, as it passed through him, down to the case holding his equipment  

Energy pulsed through Dom’s body in visible waves, moving out from the beam towards his head and feet. Electricity began to shoot out from the platform and Dom himself, slamming into the walls of the room and racing across the walls. The light became so bright that Dom could no longer see the anything around him, just a blinding whiteness. He lost feeling his feet and hands first. Then the lack of feeling spread towards his core and up towards his head. All at once, the world went silent and Dom felt as if he were being torn in a million strands. Every piece of him was hit with a cold fire. Bright lights in every color stretched out and passed in front of him. He could see everywhere all at once, yet he could see nothing.  

Though he could not explain why, Dom began to hear a static buzzing in his ears. The first sign that he was approaching his destination. A moment later, the world snapped into place around him. It was a small hotel room with white walls, and a brown carpet. A single bed took up the middle of the room, with a small desk and chair against the wall across from it. In front of Dom, a window with the curtains pulled closed. Behind him, his case, the exit door, and a small cubby leading to the bathroom. 

Getting his bearings, Dom took a few steps forward to the window and opened the curtains. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but Dom was pleased to see the large expanse of pavement and the sight of the three airplanes sitting on the far side of the lot and the other plane just below him docked to the terminal below.  

“Natalie.” 

“Yes, Dom. What may I do for you?” 

“Confirm current location.” 

“It will be my pleasure, Dom. You are currently located in room two hundred and thirty-seven of the Sama-Sama Express Transit Hotel, located in the Satellite Building adjacent to Gate C5 at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, Malaysia. It is presently eight fifteen am, on the eighth of March, two thousand and fourteen.” 

Dom smiled and turned towards his case. He would need to move things along if he was going to be in any shape to see Julie when he got back. It’s always good to have something to look forward to.