Time Matters

TIME MATTERS

Anita closed her eyes and read the screen. Good, no messages. Her secretary would still be asleep in Hong Kong so she had two hours before the mail started. She could dictate a couple of legal notices if necessary, while walking but she didn’t want to. She shivered with anticipation. She was going for a walk, in the open, for the first time!

Standing on a promontory and stretched to her full height, she could see the glittering sapphire blue of the Atlantic in the distance. In between, falling gently away down to the coastal plain, the forest canopy made a rippling, emerald carpet. Under this cover she was going to follow the route she had planned.

She called Lass and Cody, her two young border collies. They emerged from some dense undergrowth, pleased to see her after a few minutes away, tongues lolling with exertion and excitement. This was their first outing into the open air as well. They all set off and with each step her nervousness diminished and her enjoyment grew.

A quick check on the bioscreen on the inside of her eyelids confirmed she was where she should be. She was joining an ancient vehicular way called a railway which, centuries later, was still visible by satellite. She had logged the route onto her personal GPS system and was glad she had chosen audible as well as visual. Under the trees the light was variable and her bioscreen was almost unreadable, an unknown risk not factored in but never mind, she was managing fine and enjoying it.

She concentrated hard, constantly having to change direction because of a tree or prickly undergrowth and then following the corrective signals back to her path. Every few minutes she would come to an opening that would be flooded with light, which surprised her. From above, the canopy had seemed continuous.

The whole experience was stimulating. She could not understand why so few people ever ventured outside. OK, it was safe and predictable to be in a controlled environment, like a security blanket. Plants grew. No one was killed by floods or famine or hurricanes. Oh, but this breeze! It was delicious the way it played on your bare skin. Mmmm. Even the light was brighter. She would definitely get Dali and the children to come with her next time she walked the dogs.

The dogs! Where were they? ‘Lass! Cody!’ she called. No response. Their recall was usually immaculate. But that was in the home compound, with no other distractions. Not like out here.

Anita amplified her voice and raised it a register. The sound seemed to splinter the soft summer day. Still nothing. Now what should she do? The frisson of anticipatory fear she’d felt earlier returned and became anxiety. In her risk assessment she had not factored in the dogs running away, either!

If she returned home, would they eventually follow her? But they were young and had never been outside, so they wouldn’t know how. If they were hunting or chasing, they could be kilometres away by now. She couldn’t go home without them. The family would never forgive her.

Trying not to panic, she thought of her options. Usually, in such situations, she would ask someone more experienced. Friends with older children, solicitors with bigger practices, for instance. But dog owners? She didn’t know if there were any others on the planet. As far as she knew, all pet dogs had been replaced by robots centuries ago.

They’d had their own large robotic menagerie before that momentous afternoon when Dali had suggested they watch the oldest archived film they could find. In their multidimensional, experiential room they watched a jerky black and white American ‘movie’ about a collie called ‘Lassie’, and, as a family, fell in love.

They wanted one. They did the research. They made the bargains. The children would feed and exercise, Dali would do the training.

Anita had the task of sourcing. Probably because she had done a lot of travelling, with her job. But that was space shifting. This would involve time shifts, which could be quite dangerous.

They wanted a black and white collie, like in the film. Actually, they wanted two.

Their research revealed a farmstead only two kilometres from their own compound which had been there until the 22nd century. Domesticated mammals, sheep, had been cultivated there for centuries, until the planet adopted universal vegetarianism. Not only sheep had been bred on this farm, but also black and white collies, bred for shepherding the sheep. It soon became a must that their own dogs should come from that farm.

So, nine months before, Anita had meticulously calculated the space/time coordinates and with some careful time shifting had brought forward two weaned puppies.

Now on the verge of losing these two creatures, who had gone straight to the heart of her family, she suddenly knew what she must do. The farming family were the only people she knew of who were dog owners. Of course she hadn’t actually met them. When she had taken the puppies she had carefully avoided contact. Contact during time shifting was strictly prohibited and could result in the loss of your licence or worse. She would go back, though, and see if she could observe anything that might help. She called the dogs once more, to no avail, then desperately dictated the last coordinates to her computer.

Too late she realised her mistake. The shouting and screaming confirmed it. Her last space/time shift had been in the middle of winter, still dark, and had taken her into the straw filled barn where the pups were kept. No-one was astir and she had been able to remove the two wriggling pups and get out in seconds.

Now, the morning sun illuminated the barn and she was surrounded by all the sentients she was meant to avoid! Two adult dogs were jumping and barking furiously at her. A woman was advancing with a long-handled fork and shouting. A boy and girl were screaming. One very small girl stared silently. Anita fixed on her.

‘Hello!’ she said, over the noise. ‘Please don’t be frightened. My name is Anita. What’s yours?’

The effect of her voice was, as she had hoped, instantaneous. There was silence instead of screaming and shouting: calm in place of terror and panic.

The small girl said shyly ‘Sarah. You’ve got a beaootiful voice, Anita’. Then she put a thumb in her mouth.

The older girl said wonderingly ‘It’s a chord. It sort of sounds like - like a river of chocolate.’

‘Are you. . are you an alien?’ asked the boy. Although slightly smaller than his mother, he had placed himself between her and Anita.

Anita approved. She laughed. ‘Of course not. Are you?’

His mother found herself with only one option. OK, so there was a green, eight foot high, multi limbed monster towering over them. But she spoke in perfectly ordinary English, called herself Anita of all things and had even made a joke. She relaxed and allowed herself a grin.

‘Don’t answer that Philip. You might incriminate yourself. I’m Julie by the way, and this is my eldest, Miriam. But he has a point, A.. er Anita. You’re not like us at all. Where have you come from?’

Anita sighed. She was going to have to tell them, there was no way out.

‘Your question should be, when have I come from? I come from the future – your future’ she said.

‘Oh dear,’ said Julie, surprisingly calm, given the circumstances. ‘When is that? Did your species wipe out all the humans? Are you controlling our minds? Am I dreaming?’

‘Centuries – too many to worry about. And no, not a wipe out, just lots of settling, blending and clever gene therapy. And I was singing the Harmony Chord. And when the ability to produce that became genetically embedded, there were no more wars.

‘No more wars,’ repeated Miriam, longingly.

‘Everybody looks more or less like me, give or take the shade of green and the number of prehensile limbs. And I live, let me see.’ Anita went to the doorway of the barn. The family looked to where she was pointing – with one of – how many fingers?

‘Up there, where that building is.’

‘What, St Andrew’s Church?’ said Philip, ‘do you live in a church?’

‘No, we don’t. I hadn’t realised we had built our compound on an old sacred site. No wonder we feel something. .’

‘Spiritual?’ suggested Julie. Could she take a shot with her mobile, she was thinking. Derek, her husband, would never believe this.

‘Spiritual. That’s right. I live up there, with my family and until recently, several robotic pets.’

‘Robots’ whispered Philip, ‘cool.’

‘And then we watched an ancient projection, called a movie. It had a black and white dog called “Lassie”. Do you know it?’

The children looked blank but Julie nodded. ‘We decided what we would like best would be two real live dogs. But in my world, in your future, there are no pets of any description.’

‘No pets’ said Sarah, ‘that’s very sad.’

‘That’s what we thought. So in the planet archives we found that you are our space neighbours and you breed black and white collies!’

Wrong sort of collie, Anita, thought Julie, but her daughter was way ahead of her.

‘You stole our puppies.’ Miriam’s voice was hostile, accusing.

Anita was shocked. ‘I left payment. It was worth four months of my salary. I couldn’t leave a message. It’s forbidden to make contact. Didn’t you find it?’

‘You left two bits of coal,’ Miriam said, coldly.

‘Coal is the most valuable element we have. The planet’s coal was exhausted centuries ago. We have to mine it from the asteroid belt now. It’s the planetary currency standard.’

‘You mean like gold?’ asked Philip.

‘Gold?’ Anita was puzzled. ‘New planetary sources of gold are always being found. No, everything in my time is measured against micrograms of coal and I’m sorry that what I left wasn’t enough.’

‘It’s plenty,’ said Julie hurriedly, ‘we’re very grateful that you value those pups so much.’ She glared at her children, willing them not say that they’d chucked four months of Anita’s salary into the coal fired stove.

‘How are they doing?’

‘They’re doing really well,’ grinned Anita. ‘We’ve named them Lass and Cody.’

‘Are they growing properly?’ asked Philip. ‘They are not robots, you know, they need proper food,’ he added sternly.

‘Don’t worry, they’re in the upper third percentile for their age. I looked it up,’ she added, picking up the bewilderment all round. ‘But actually it’s because of them that I’ve time shifted again. It’s against all the laws to make contact and if anyone finds out. .’ She looked around as though expecting someone to creep out of the shadows.

‘We won’t tell, will we?’ Sarah said, round her thumb and her mother didn’t know whether to hug her with pride, or crack up laughing at what she’d said. Tell who? Julie was still convinced they were talking to an alien, or that they were dead!

Philip said quickly ‘Are they ill, or something?’

‘No,’ said Anita, ‘I’ve lost them. Just over there, but it’s all forest now. I mean, then.’

She told them about the training and how it was their first time outside.

‘I think I know what you need,’ Julie said. ‘Miriam, come over here a minute,’ and she whispered something quietly to her elder daughter who ran out of the barn.

‘When we train dogs, we use a special whistle,’ she explained. ‘It’s very high pitched so it carries a long way. And we have different whistle signals for come and sit, left and right. You can make them up yourself for the pups. But I think they might remember that noise - they were hearing it all the time for nine weeks. You can have one of ours.’

Miriam came back and in one hand had a tiny whistle. ‘I’ll show you,’ she said and, gripping it between her teeth and lips, blew a long loud high-pitched note. It was really too loud in the confined space, but the two dogs who had wandered outside were back in a flash, waiting at Miriam’s feet for the next command.

‘Impressive,’ said Anita.

‘You try,’ said Philip.

It was a struggle with her herbivore teeth and the onlookers battled to remain solemn as Anita contorted her lips, but eventually she managed the required piercing sound and the dogs came running to her, instead.

‘Let’s hope it has the same effect on the pups,’ she said.

Miriam smiled shyly. ‘I’ve brought this for you,’ she murmured and from a pocket pulled out a large lump of coal.

Anita’s eyes, already large, seemed to swallow her face as they focused on the unprepossessing piece of fuel. Gently, she took it into her hand.

‘This is enough for me to retire on,’ she said, in awe. She made to give it back. ‘I couldn’t possibly accept. It’s too much.’

‘Please take it,’ urged Julie, ‘it has cost us virtually nothing and it’s lovely to think it could do you so much good, in your time.’

‘But I can’t give you anything back,’ protested Anita. ‘I’d willingly give you my computer, but it’s embedded in my brain and the technology . .

‘Please don’t worry,’ said Julie. They all gazed at each other.

‘I like your bracelet,’ said Sarah into a silence which she felt should be filled. She didn’t want Anita to go and in her experience, if you complimented someone, they talked a bit more.

‘Oh this?’ asked Anita casually. ‘It’s nothing special, I assure you. Some sort of semi-precious stone.’

‘It sparkles so much it looks like diamonds,’ laughed Julie, her eyes mesmerised by the glittering, grape sized stones.

‘Oh yes, you’re right,’ Anita shrugged. ‘I can never remember the name. I like the coloured ones better.’ She paused. ‘Would you like it?’ she asked Sarah, unclipping the bracelet and handing it to her. ‘At least I’ll have given something in return, if only a cheap. .’

‘No, we can’t,’ Julie said, firmly, wishing things were different. ‘ If they are diamonds, what you have there is enough for us to retire on, too! It’s far too valuable a gift.’

Anita slowly opened a hand, black now from gripping the coal.

‘I’m going to leave this behind,’ she said, reluctantly. ‘It’s strictly forbidden to remove or add things when you’re time shifting. I’ve already taken the pups, I know. I’m calling that a species saving intervention. It’s actually done all the time but you need a special license.’

‘So,’ said Miriam, thoughtfully, ‘you have taken so many grams of coal. And left so many grams of diamond. How much do they each weigh, do you think?’

Anita weighed them in various hand combinations.

‘About the same,’ she said.

‘And they are both pure carbon,’ said Philip, suddenly remembering his chemistry. ‘So the net carbon gain is?’

‘Zero,’ they all said, except Sarah who hadn’t a clue what they were talking about but somehow knew the visit was coming to an end.

‘Will you retire?’ Anita asked Julie.

‘Probably not,‘ Julie grinned, ’but it might mean we could do something that is not profitable, but is close to our hearts. Rare breeds. What about you?’

‘No, but I might go part-time. I want to get my partner and the children outside and living a more natural life. I believe there are others on the planet who still do it. I want to go and find out.’

They all regarded each other, savouring the moment.

‘Well, goodbye.’

‘Goodbye. G’bye Anita.’

Then she was gone.

Julie blew out a long breath. ‘Was that real?’ she asked. ‘Have we just spent half an hour talking about dogs and diamonds to a green multi handed – how many handed?’

‘Six’ provided Philip

‘To a green, six handed monster?’

‘She wasn’t a monster’. This was Sarah. ‘She was lovely. I liked her.’

‘I know you did. I think we all did,’ her mother agreed, thoughtfully.

‘I wouldn’t want to look like her, would you?’ asked Miriam.

‘You know, if I had an extra one or two pairs of hands when wanted, I might not mind being a green, eight foot . . person sort of a thing.’

‘With a lovely voice,’ said Sarah.

‘Yes, and with that harmony gene. Definitely would be worth all this,’ Julie said, looking at the bracelet. Ask me again tomorrow’ she added, ‘if this hasn’t evaporated by then.’

‘Let’s tell Dad,’ Sarah said and ran out of the barn.

‘Good luck!’ Julie shouted after her. ‘Rather you than me.’

‘We never counted the whistle,’ Philip said. ‘She’s taken a sheep whistle to the future.’

I never counted the whistle, thought Anita as she completed her space/time shift. But everything she’d done had been illegal, from taking the puppies to the last half hour of direct contact. As a lawyer she was well aware of the penalties for such actions. It could cost her license to practice. She squeezed the coal tightly held in her mid-right hand. Oh well, she thought, maybe this is the kick-start I’ve needed. And the chaos theories were still only theories and getting less popular all the time.

She stretched her top lip over the whistle and gave a blast. In a few seconds the pups appeared at her feet, desperately pleased to see her, rolling over and yelping. She picked them up – they fit comfortably along two of her arms – and kissed their noses.

A new future spread out before her. Outdoors, at the mercy of the environment, living close to the land. The children running free. A farm. Some sheep maybe. She knew where there were some!

She started to plan her next time shift.