CHAPTER 12

Excerpt from Tess Heiden’s diary:

When I opened my eyes again, the cube was in my hands… By what quantum miracle had this happened? I have no idea. The ways of space and time are inscrutable! All I know is that Bob and company succeeded in teleporting the artefact at the same time as our minds. One strange detail: the object had “shrunk in the wash,” if you’ll allow the expression. It was now no bigger than a thimble. Bob stood before me. He gave me a discreet sign of complicity (a simple nod of the head, nothing more). The transparent lid opened with its usual slowness. I staggered as I got out of the capsule, and Bob caught me. It wasn’t merely a thoughtful gesture on his part. I felt his hand slip into the hollow of mine and take the cube, a sleight of hand that went undetected. Bravo, Bobby!

I glanced over the shoulder of the master instructor: Commander Sand was there. His SSU watchdogs did not accompany him, this time, but he still seemed to be pissed off. Laura was speaking to him, no doubt trying to distract him. He listened to the hologram while keeping an eye on us, my comrades and me. The other members of the team were emerging one by one from their respective capsules, their legs unsteady. I often suffered from stuffed-up ears after a transfer. Probably a question of pressure. My hearing gradually returned to normal, and I could hear Laura trying to make excuses full of technical jargon:

“The death of the high priest provoked an incident… Tachyonic interference… We could not have predicted it, but there was something like a quantum pile-up… The whole island was erased from the map!”

I gritted my teeth, feeling disgusted. Because of me, a giant wave had ravaged an entire population. The word “genocide” came into my head with the force of a tsunami… And then, I thought of Razovski, without managing to settle on any precise emotion. Did I love him? Did I hate him? I guess I had mixed feelings. But what was that business at the very end, with him turning into some sort of blue elf?!

Sand cut short Laura’s explanations. “I want to interrogate them personally,” he said, pointing at me and my friends.

We were taken to the debriefing room. Bob accompanied us. On the way, he whispered in my ear, “The official version is that the tsunami was the direct consequence of the high priest’s death… A spell that went wrong, OK?”

I nodded discreetly to show that I’d understood.

There was no time to get into more details. We delivered our report. The SSU commander grilled us, playing “bad cop.” Bob and Laura were the “good cops.” I set the tone by feeding him a pretty story that carefully left out the role of the cube in this shadowy affair. There were no cortical recordings: I could say whatever I wanted, and my comrades backed up my statements. When I evoked the death of Agent Razovski (damn, I still can’t bring myself to say “my father”), my eyes grew misty with tears, and I wasn’t faking it. I sensed that Dominika was resisting a furious urge to take hold of my hand and say something comforting. But she managed to restrain herself. It was a good thing she did…

I believe I’m falling in love with her… OK, now we’re starting to turn this into a teen girl’s private diary, full of mush, but how else can I put it into words? Sometimes, you need to call a spade a spade. I can’t stop thinking about her. When she isn’t here, I miss her, and whenever I see her, my chest feels like it’s going to explode.

A bunch of clichés, you say? Yeah, well, to hell with you!

So, now we’re back in our quarters. “And now?” asked James, when we left the elevator and were about to go our separate ways. We couldn’t speak openly and talk about what we’d just experienced, but the looks we exchanged said a lot.

We formed a circle and held hands in silence. It was very intimate and very beautiful, because something strong emanated from the four of us. It was a closed circle and yet at the same time open to the rest of the universe. My friends! Now that’s a word I no longer have any hesitation about using. I’ve felt the warmth of their blood which has become mixed with mine. I have FRIENDS! It’s a new emotion for me, and frankly, almost a little frightening. For years now, I’ve been used to thinking and acting on my own. And now I’m part of an ensemble, a group. Me, who once hated the idea of owing something to someone, now realize that not only does this not bother me, but I actually find it… liberating!

Creating bonds… Damn, I had to travel four centuries into the future to learn how to do that!

Yeah, “and now?” as James would say.

I think I’m going to

Someone was knocking on the door of the cabin. Tess saved her text, closed her file, and stood up, feeling uncertain. It was late. Who would come bother her at this hour? She hoped it was Dominika. Her heart started racing while a long shiver ran down her spine, a promise of delights to follow. She went to the door and opened it…

And found herself face-to-face with a bearded old man dressed in an eccentric purple robe.

Professor Ronn, in person.

“Good evening, Tess. May I come in?”

The young woman remained open-mouthed for a couple of seconds.

“I… I mean… Yes, of course…”

She stepped aside to let the old man enter, and then she closed the door, but not before glancing out into the empty corridor. Ronn was definitely here alone. She wondered: what did he want?

“I… Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

There was an awkward silence.

“But I would like to sit down,” the old scientist said with a small smile.

He caressed his long beard. It was longer than had been in the snapshots she’d seen on the Infosphere. It was as if, with the passing years, his Dr Freud look had gradually given way to a Merlin returned from the ancient past.

The young woman and the scientist sat together on a bench, facing a big oval-shaped porthole looking out on space. A sun, a majestic scarlet star, was burning in an infinite black sea.

Tess asked, “Can we speak? I mean… really speak?”

She made a vague gesture that encompassed the rest of the cabin. Ronn responded with a sign indicating that he understood.

“Yes,” he said. “This conversation will remain between just the two of us. Strictly confidential. Laura has made sure of that.”

The scientist drew in a long breath. He twiddled with his beard. Evidently, he didn’t know where to begin.

“I’ve been observing you for a long time, did you know that?” he said by way of an introduction. When Tess made no reply, he continued, “I’m aware that you’ve undergone some difficult ordeals lately… I feel responsible and I would like to apologize for that.”

“Responsible?”

“This whole complicated plan, aimed at saving the agency… I’m the principal mastermind behind it. Bob, Laura, your father… They were merely carrying out my directives. So, if you need to feel angry with someone, it should be me.”

Tess had trouble swallowing. She wasn’t too sure what she was feeling. She was just extremely tired. Perhaps that was what people meant by “letting go”?

She sighed. “How could you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“About Atlantis… About its population being sacrificed on the altar of your plots, your schemes.”

“The island was doomed in any case. There was no impact on the historical scale.”

“Is that the only thing that counts, in the end? Preserving the integrity of your frigging timeline?”

Ronn said nothing, like a defendant taking refuge in silence to protect himself.

But Tess still had questions: “My role is over, isn’t it? I was supposed to serve as the key to unlock the system protecting the last cube and… Hey, by the way, what happened to the cube?”

The old man displayed a timid smile. But also a crafty one. One sensed that cunning had become second nature for him. “It’s in a safe place. Thanks to you.”

“So now that I’ve done what I was genetically programmed for–”

Ronn raised his hand to signify that she should stop right there.

“You weren’t ‘programmed’, as you put it. You have free will. At any time, you could have told us to go to hell and jumped ship. But you didn’t do that.”

“Oh yeah? From where I stand, I don’t have much choice at all.”

She shot him an accusing look.

He did not turn away, but replied, “We always have a choice.”

Tess scowled. She wanted to bite her nails, but restrained herself.

“OK,” she conceded grudgingly. “But that doesn’t answer my question…”

“Which was?”

“What do you expect from me now?”

“Lots of things. Thanks to you, we’ve won a battle–”

The young woman snorted derisively. “But not the war, is that it? Let me guess: the struggle between the forces of good and evil is endless?”

Tess could not prevent her words from taking on a bitter note. What was she doing here, on a space station, discussing the fate of the universe with a phony Dumbledore? It was a surreal situation. One more to add to a growing list.

Ronn gave her a patient look. “Yes, that’s exactly how things stand,” he said very calmly, without the slightest hint of irony. “Our enemies are powerful. I think the great confrontation has simply been postponed.”

As he uttered these words, the old man let his gaze drift toward the porthole, and the infinite space that lay beyond the clearsteel. There were two ways of seeing this cosmic panorama. Each small light, even the furthest one, was a star that shone with a warm, friendly fire. Or else one could consider the immense void as a bottomless well, full of latent menaces. No doubt in this precise instant Ronn was leaning toward the second option, because a veil seemed to darken his sparkling eyes as he lost himself in contemplation of the Sculptor Galaxy. His bushy, steely grey eyebrows practically merged into one as he frowned.

“We don’t know when the next assault will come, nor what form it will take,” he sighed. “But the clash is inevitable.”

“These enemies. If they aren’t the Syaans… Who are they?”

“Believe me, I’m not deliberately withholding information from you, this time… We really don’t know much about them. They were around before humanity. And since they’re immortal, their perception of time is very different from our own…”

“Immortal? Great… makes it super-easy to fight them! So, they’re sort of like gods, aren’t they?”

“In some ways. But they can also take on human form. They don’t need machines to travel in time, as opposed to the members of our agency…”

“My father could do that too, huh?”

“Yes.”

“That face with the blue skin and fine features that I thought I saw, just after his death… Was that his real appearance?”

Ronn nodded. “The Syaans are metamorphs. Since the beginning of this age-old struggle they’ve been engaged in, they’ve adopted the habit of not exposing their true faces. On the other hand, when they die, they revert to their original form… Your father was the first to extend a helping hand to we humans. He made the link between our two species… and you’re the living proof of that.”

“But… I don’t have blue skin!”

“A Syaan can control which part of their genetic capital they pass on to their children. I imagine that Pete wanted to spare you, let’s say, some teasing at school.”

Once again, the old man’s voice and gaze became cunning. He just couldn’t help himself…

Tess frowned. “Our common enemies, do they have a plan? Any precise objectives?”

“We think they want to return to primordial chaos, the beginnings of our universe…”

“The Big Bang?”

“Something like that, yes.”

Tess let out a long sigh. Suddenly, she felt discouraged. “To sum things up, we’re in big trouble… And please don’t answer that with something along the lines of: ‘Where there’s life, there’s hope.’”

“Yes, we’re in big trouble, as you say,” the scientist agreed with a melancholy smile. “Once again, the choice belongs to you. You can continue to help us, or you can stand there with your arms crossed and watch the end of the universe as a mere spectator. It will be one hell of a show, believe me…”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“But I have the feeling that you won’t stand by with your arms crossed, will you. That’s not your style.”

“We’ll see… I would have liked a break from active duty, even so.”

Ronn chuckled and stood up.

“I’m going to take my leave now, if you’ll allow me, dear.”

The old man was polite.

He’d get on well with James, Tess thought.

She stood up and accompanied her guest to the door, which opened with its characteristic hiss.

“Ah, I almost forgot…”

But Tess’s intuition told her that he never forgot a thing, and that this envelope he took from the violet folds of his robe, he’d been intending all along to give it to her now, at the end of their interview, and not before.

“For you.”

Tess took the envelope.

“You can open it.”

She unsealed it and discovered a photo.

An old photo in which her father, Pete Razovski, was holding her mother, Marcy Culligham, in his arms. They posed together in a forest with tall trees, perhaps sequoias, in front of a cabin which looked like a hunting lodge. You could almost smell the perfume of fresh earth and resin. They were smiling. They looked happy.

Tess’s heart and the throat were both knotted up.

“I liked your father very much,” Ronn said. “We had our differences. He was impossible to control, he liked being a maverick, and meddling in things… but he was a dear friend. I know that Bob is very sad, this evening. At this hour, he’s probably in the Red Light, downing drinks in Pete’s honour…”

“Thank you,” Tess articulated with difficulty.

Ronn nodded with his beard and turned around. “I’ll see you soon, Ms Heiden.”

The door closed behind him.

Tess remained alone with a yellowed snapshot in her hands and a bunch of emotions ready to burst in her chest.

This photo was perhaps her last link with the past.

And that past is behind you, she thought. It might be time now to turn to the future.

Ronn had not been mistaken. Bob was indeed in the Red Light. Tess caught sight of his big back hunched over the bar. It was late, and the place was emptying out, the bartender busying himself polishing and putting away glasses. Tess looked around like a wary cat, searching for any SSU members or other undesirable elements. But there was no sign of Commander Sand’s men, and not many people at all on the dance floor.

Tess advanced and put her hand on the arm of her master instructor. He turned around, looking older than usual. Sadder too. Another point that Ronn had gotten right.

Tess pointed with her chin at the half-empty bottle of hooch in front of Bob.

“Buy me a drink?”

Bob nodded his head and motioned toward the stool next to his. The gesture was clearly an invitation, and she accepted it without further ado.

A wistful smile had appeared on Bob’s face. He ordered a cocktail from the bartender, who swiftly mixed it and slid it across the bar to Tess, before resuming his cleaning.

Elbow still placed on the bar, Bob lifted his glass to make a toast with the young woman.

“I’m going to tell you about your father,” he said.

And his smile grew wider and more affectionate.