By J. M. Allison
Just pick one!
“If I pick the wrong one, everyone dies.” Miriel focused on the bomb in front of her. Sweat beaded her temples. She tracked a green wire as it twisted and dove through the tangle of red, yellow, and white wires.
That one. She took a deep breath, then yanked the wire free. The device issued a panicked chirping.
Wrong one! Cody stuffed one furry paw in his mouth, eyes wide.
Miriel scowled. “You’re my mentor, Captain Matteo, any suggestions?”
The small brown bear tilted his head and growled. Work faster! Lives are at stake. Cody’s urgency pressed against her mind over their mental link.
“I need more time.” Her eyes darted to the woven gold bracelet around her left wrist. The purple stone nested in the weave called to her.
Goya can’t be trusted. His devices can’t be trusted.
“It could give me the time we need.”
But the cost. Cody chewed on his paw and whined.
The bomb increased its chirp to a frantic pace. No time.
Miriel scooped Cody into her arms, prayed Goya’s gadget worked as advertised, then activated the stone on her bracelet.
The world blurred, swirling around her, and she focused on where she needed to be. Events spun backward like a movie on rewind. She lifted her finger from the stone and time played forward again. She’d transported back to her rooms at the Facility. She hurried to her data port and keyed in the parameters for the bomb she’d seen at Commerce Headquarters. Maybe she could even prevent the bomb from being planted.
We don’t know how time will play out. Even our presence here could disrupt things, Cody cautioned.
Miriel had seen enough time travel movies to agree. Best to go unnoticed. She quickly memorized the bomb schematics and turned off the data port. The screen went black, and she froze. An older woman stared back from the screen’s reflection. She tucked some hair behind one ear. The woman in the reflection did the same. Goya’s words echoed in her head: “It funnels future time back to provide time for you and everyone else to make the jump.”
So, the more she jumped, the more she’d age.
The door hissed open, and Miriel dove for cover behind the couch as yesterday’s version of herself and Cody entered the room.
You’re a chosen one. Saving the world is part of your destiny. Yesterday Cody’s words brought a smile. But if you fail training—
“They’ll ship me back to Earth. I know,” she’d answered.
She’d spent most of yesterday training, so if she stayed hidden in her room until tomorrow, then went directly to Commerce Headquarters, she should arrive in time to diffuse the bomb.
Time crawled by as she waited. At last, the sun rose and Miriel headed to Commerce Headquarters. A quick flash of her Facility credentials granted her unlimited access.
Miriel spotted the bomb and swore. This one had a timer, seventeen minutes and counting.
Use the bracelet again. Cody nuzzled her leg.
“What if the bomb changes again?”
We’ll have to risk it.
Miriel nodded, grabbed Cody, and activated the stone. Time rewound.
Miriel raced to the bomb’s location. This version boasted two tampering triggers. She ran a hand through her hair. How many times could she afford to use the bracelet? She pressed the stone.
The next version had a pressure plate.
“Need some help?”
Miriel spun and found herself face-to-face with her younger self. She tried for a reassuring smile. “Two minds are better than one.”
Her younger self took a cautious step forward. “Especially if they’re both mine, right?”
Miriel relaxed. She couldn’t recall ever meeting an older version of herself, so she hoped she hadn’t just broken time with this encounter.
They worked in silence, peeling back the bomb’s plating.
Thirteen. Beep. Twelve. Beep. Eleven. Beep.
They swore.
“Go.” Miriel shoved her younger self toward the door. “I’ve got this.”
“But—”
“No. Go!”
The younger Miriel and Cody hesitated, then fled the room.
Miriel pressed the stone. Reset.
“I almost have it!” Miriel clipped the wire. The beeping doubled its tempo. Her hands trembled.
You don’t have to do this alone. Cody pressed against her side.
Just one more wire. Miriel brushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. Blue or red? The bomb’s beeping grew more insistent.
Use the bracelet.
“No, I’ve got this.”
Cody’s furry paw landed on Miriel’s arm. Miriel, use the bracelet.
“I’ve already aged about ten years using it. I can’t…”
Yes, you can. You’re never alone as long as you let others help you.
Miriel snuck one arm around the bear and hugged him. “Thank—” The rest of her words were lost as Cody pressed his nose to the stone and time rewound.
When the world finally stopped spinning, Miriel looked down at her friend. Cody’s furry body lay limp and lifeless as a teddy bear in her arms. His eyes had glassed over, but he still wore an encouraging smile on his lips. Faithful to the end.
Miriel squeezed the bear, a tear sliding down her cheek. She wouldn’t waste his sacrifice.
This time, her fingers flew over the components, opening the bomb’s paneling with practiced ease. The bomb chirped with steady annoyance. She disabled the trip wires and the secondary detonator. The chirp increased speed. She clipped through the main detonation wire. The bomb whined and fell silent.
***
Years later, Miriel peered at the clumsy St. Bernard pups. The largest pup stumbled forward, his overlarge paws making him trip and flop. “You remind me of a friend I had long ago.” The puppy turned soulful eyes toward her.
You’re never alone as long as you let others help you.
The puppy whined and licked her nose, warming Miriel’s heart.
“How ’bout I call you Captain Matteo?” Miriel snuggled the dog close. “My friend was very much like you. Together, we saved the world. His name was Cody.”
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Love the Mateo/Miriel origin story!
Ah…heartbreaking but wonderful.