DR. SCRANTON: What did you have in mind?
COL. SMITH: Boyfriend, girlfriend, whichever way she swings. Background says she dated boys in college but didn’t have anyone serious. Meanwhile there was a female BFF in high school, lots of tears when she moved away. So it’s not entirely clear which way she leans. But it doesn’t matter: if we can get her emotionally attached to someone, we have a handle. Or if we find something she’s afraid of, we have a handle. Or if she gets religion, same deal. Or if we get her to imprint on her colleagues—the Small Unit paradigm—that works too. She may be an introvert, but she’s not invulnerable: we just need to get her to open up.
AGENT GOMEZ: We can use her without a handle if push comes to shove, can’t we?
COL. SMITH: Yes, but it’s less reliable. Humans are social organisms. We want her to feel protective toward us as a society, before we send her out among them. Otherwise there’s the risk of Stockholm Syndrome.
DR. SCRANTON: We don’t need that. Termination Expedient is all very well as a policy, but not a sensible option for unique assets. Too much risk of making the wrong call.
AGENT O’NEILL: So you want her to fall in love, get religion, discover patriotism, discover team loyalty, or learn to fear us. Okay, so noted. But why has everything come so far forward?
DR. SCRANTON: Because of BLACK RAIN. We’ve lost three drones and detected fallout in that time line. People in high places are beginning to ask questions, and it falls to us to provide answers.
COL. SMITH: Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times is enemy action.
DR. SCRANTON: Exactly.
END TRANSCRIPT
In the Valley of the Shadow of the Gate
CONNECTICUT, TIME LINE TWO, JULY 2020
They started Rita’s training three days, four MRIs, and one swearing-in after her last subarachnoid injections. The evening before, they began to cut back on the bad head meds. In the morning Rita, feeling a lot less mind-fuzzed and mildly irritable (if not stir-crazy), climbed out of bed and dressed in her own clothes before Marianne wheeled in her breakfast. “Well, we’re feeling better, are we? Great! Dr. Lane will be so pleased. I hear y’all have a visitor coming this morning…”
An hour later, stomach full and nerves buzzing with caffeine—it was the first mug of coffee she’d been allowed since the course of injections—she was in another windowless white room full of unidentifiable medical equipment, with a large display covering most of one wall. This one had markings taped out on the floor in various colors, like a basketball practice court that had accidentally shrunk. And she did indeed have a visitor, tapping his toes with Dr. Jenn. The Colonel smiled. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I feel fine,” she said noncommittally. She had a gut feeling that Colonel Smith wouldn’t appreciate her true feelings—a layer cake of resentment at being railroaded into this isolating situation, unease and disquiet at being treated as a medical guinea pig, and a glaze of boredom on top. He probably wanted something more positive: excitement, a sense of adventure, maybe a dose of unreflective salute-the-flag patriotism. “Is this the big day?”
“Yes, I certainly hope so!” Jenn interjected. “Yesterday’s bloods were looking good so—”
“I thought it would be best if I came to witness the first test jaunt,” Smith said easily. “It’ll be a major landmark.”
Rita nodded seriously. Landmark for what? she wondered. “But you’ve got the para-time machines…” She noticed Dr. Lane glance briefly in Smith’s direction, and his twitch of acknowledgment.
“They’re not very flexible,” he said blandly. His movements as jerky as a small bird’s, he stepped to one side. “Doctor, if you’d like to begin your orientation?”
“Sure.” Jenn smiled at Rita again. “Rita, because we cut back on the suppressors, you should be sensitive to trigger engrams now. So what we’re going to do here is try a very simple test run. First, we’re going to ground you—that should prevent you from jaunting by accident—and use the EEG and EKG to see what happens when we expose you to an engram. I’ll need to take bloods, too. Then this afternoon we’ll do it again, only without the grounding straps and using ambulatory biomonitoring.”
“Ah.” Rita stared at the marks on the floor. “What will happen?”
“This is a mirror room; there’s an identical facility in the time line the engram we’re using is keyed to. And there’s a transporter cell next door. What should happen is that you’ll jaunt over there; then we’ll use the transporter to come over and confirm you’re healthy before you make the return jaunt.”
“Jaunt? You’re using that word—”
The Colonel shrugged. “We lifted it from an old SF novel. It’s short and descriptive and differentiates what you’ll be doing—jaunting—from what the transporters do—para-time traversal.” He seemed to be mildly amused, if slightly tense. He turned to Dr. Lane: “I’ve got a meeting with Professor Schwartz now; message me before you proceed with the actual jaunt test.” He nodded at Rita and departed.
Rita stared at the door, then looked at Dr. Lane. “What now?” she asked, feeling hollow.
Jenn pointed her to the examining table. “Take a nap. Marianne should be here—we need to start by wiring you up. This is going to take a while, I’m afraid.”
Rita lay down and stared at the ceiling. “Does Colonel Smith visit often?” she asked.
“Is that his name?” Dr. Lane shook her head. “I wouldn’t know.” Her tone dropped slightly. “You’re asking questions again. Bad habit.”
“Sorry. I get bored easily.”
“Try not to.” Dr. Lane stood. “Back in a minute.” She disappeared, leaving Rita alone with her unanswered, stifled questions. More than a minute passed before she returned, Marianne and another paramedic trailing behind. “Okay, showtime! First, we’re going to wire up the EKG harness. You’ll be wearing it for the rest of the day, so if you wouldn’t mind stripping down to your underwear…”
*
The morning passed in a blur. Wired into an itchy tangle of electrodes, Rita sat through most of it staring at strange knotwork designs on the big screen on the wall opposite. Jenn and her assistants bustled around, discussing their test equipment readings as if Rita weren’t there.