A Collision In Time

No one outside ourselves can rule us inwardly. When we know this, we become free.

– Buddha

Winter, 3203 BC (November 6th, Gregorian), Uruk, Sumeria

Emerson noticed Cara and Amarenzu leaving the house and felt a pang of regret for not apologizing to Cara yet. He had planned to, but Ariel and Uriel had distracted him with intriguing developments. I’ll speak with her when she comes back, he decided, and grabbed an apple from the basket in the kitchen before heading to the hut to retrieve Dov.

Emerson knocked on the closed door. “Hello?” he called.

“Emerson, please come in,” Dov replied.

He opened the door a crack and looked in.

“Come in,” Dov repeated. “Don’t be shy.”

Emerson entered. Dov had dressed, packed the bedding, and was rolling up the woven mat.

“You look one hundred percent better, Dov. Nice to see you join the world again.” Emerson chuckled.

“I do feel much better.”

He moved to hug her, but stopped.

“Oh, Emerson.” Dov leaned forward and embraced him. “Everything will be fine. Now would you mind helping me with that pile of blankets?”

“Sure, absolutely.” Emerson gathered the bundle of blankets and together they headed out of the hut.

“By the way, have you seen Cara? Did you talk with her?”

“Yeah, I saw her an hour or so ago. She left with Amarenzu, possibly on a walk or something. But no, I didn’t get a chance to talk before she left. Why?”

“Oh, well, I hope she’s careful. They’ll be back soon, I hope.” Dov had not addressed his question.

“Anyway, I came to see y’all for another reason. Ariel and Uriel have found something. They asked me to come and get you. I suspect it’s due to the time-wave disturbance.”

Dov stopped. “Wait. Why didn’t you say so?” She rushed ahead, followed by Emerson, and joined Ariel and Uriel in the courtyard.

“Dov,” said Uriel, “how are you feeling?”

“Much better. And again, I’m in your collective debt. What happened, a virus?”

“Yes, a six thousand-year-old virus is indeed what happened. We synthesized antibodies using Kushim’s family’s immune system. The city’s population has already had a battle with the virus and developed immunity. Obviously, you hadn’t. Perhaps being from Pachamama didn’t help you. It was a clever virus, having evaded your nano-defenses.”

“Thank god you included the medical databases in your memory.”

“An essential for time travel.” Uriel winked. “You co-edited a paper about that, did you not?”

“Yes, I suppose I did.” She grew serious. “Now, Emerson mentioned something about a time-wave disturbance?”

“Yes, we’ve found something.” Uriel projected a shimmering holograph displaying waving red and white lines.

“I’m afraid it is a little strange, however,” interjected Ariel. “Look at this disturbance.” He pointed to the red line. “What’s different about this is that it appears to have been initiated earlier than we detected. The anomaly shows itself not as a single event, like the others, but as a distribution over time. A whole series of continual time shifts.”

“I don’t understand,” said Dov. “You checked yesterday, and it wasn’t there.”

“Yes. Our bots have been checking continuously,” said Ariel. “The anomaly only triggered ninety minutes ago. See this line, here?”

“Ninety minutes ago?” Dov squinted to capture it better. “But you are right, this line shows the first disturbance started roughly three days ago. I don’t understand.”

“Maybe,” suggested Emerson, “this disturbance is caused by us simply being here. Maybe we are the ones responsible for shifting history. After all, we have shown Kushim all sorts of things, introducing him to new languages and cultures. Maybe we should look in the mirror, if I’ve understood a fraction of what I have been learning.”

“Interesting premise,” said Uriel.

“But inconsistent with our initial reports from Pachamama,” Ariel said. “And those outcomes were computed with a lot more data and processing power than anything we have here.”

“But what about the series of anomalies, rather than a single event?” asked Dov. She pointed at the red line’s bifurcations. “Perhaps we did initiate this distribution? Is there any way to filter out our impact?” Dov studied Uriel and Ariel, waiting for a reply.

Uriel shook his head but had no answer. “I’ll see if I can filter out our engagements.”

Dov nodded. “Study this and see if you can figure out what triggered the event three days ago. It’s conceivable Emerson is right and this is on us. However, that doesn’t make sense to me. I’ll be right back. Emerson, come join me for breakfast. I’ve not eaten in days.”

Dov spread a layer of honey on the unleavened bread and placed sliced apple and figs on top. She rolled it into a wrap and took a bite. She nodded toward Iamma and spoke in Sumerian. “I am so grateful to Nammu for this harvest.”

Emerson sampled a morsel of fig and spoke in English. “These figs are okay, but how I’d prefer them in a muffin or pancake. I miss breakfasts. I miss coffee.” He shifted to broken Sumerian and addressed Iamma. “I am grateful to Nammu for this harvest.”

“We didn’t drink coffee regularly in Pachamama,” Dov said. “Every once in a while we enjoyed a sweetened cup as an afternoon treat, but our morning drinks were mostly local teas.”

“I’m still addicted to coffee and love it first thing in the morning. Now, what did—”

Amarenzu ran through the door and raced to Dov and Iamma, gasping out words. Dov felt the blood drain from her face. She replied to Amarenzu, articulating each word to ensure she understood.

“Someone grabbed Cara,” Dov said to Emerson, “but I can’t understand what Amarenzu is saying and what happened.”

“What did you understand?” Emerson asked as he followed her out. “It was hard for me to follow and the translator’s not so good with emotions and the melodies in her voice.”

“Something about using a wrong spoon for honey and some men grabbing Cara as she acted immodestly and yelled at them in a language nobody could understand. It all sounded like nonsense.”

“Is she still at the market?”

“I don’t know, but I suggest we find out.” She sprinted toward Ariel and Uriel, Emerson calmly keeping pace with her.

In five minutes Ariel, Uriel, and Dov had changed into Sumerian outfits. Iamma and her eldest son readied themselves to head to the market. Emerson reluctantly agreed to stay home despite his argument that, should things become rough, they might need his size and strength.

They assembled at the door, debating the quickest, most discreet path. Every second that passed seemed like an eternity to Dov. She understood the need for prudence, preparation, and caution, but like a force of gravity, Cara’s situation pressed her to accelerate forward.

Kushim walked through the door. He looked at them, his expression reflecting both surprise and concern. A flurry of conversation ensued until he asked for silence and called upon Amarenzu to explain.

“Ah, yes,” he said and raised his hands. “Do not go to the market, that will be foolish. I think I know who Cara is with. Come and listen.”

He beckoned them into the next room, a sparely outfitted space with carpets laid over the dirt floor. Kushim motioned for everyone to sit on the mats and settled himself, rhythmically stroking his beard and twisting the beads that had been woven into its braids. He invited Amarenzu to sit beside him, and after a moment of silent thought, he began.

“I have a story to tell you. Three moons ago a new priest appeared at the priest council. This is unusual. By law, new priests join the council by petition and are approved by council consensus. Since the hasty appointment was unconventional, I decided the priest must be extraordinary and I requested to meet him. I have now met him twice, once yesterday and again just now. I now have insight.

“He is a cunning man, with a demeanor shrouded in darkness. Since the priest’s appointment, I marked storm clouds forming over the high priest-king and witnessed him being unusually indecisive. For instance, I heard the high priest-king delay routine decisions, directing them to the priest council instead. I observed how quickly the new priest asserts his dominance over the well-established council. This morning the council ordered the establishment of a militia to monitor the streets of Uruk for immoral behavior and to seek those who speak in a strange tongue. If such individuals are found, the militia is instructed to hold those people for judgement, by order of the new priest. The speed of his influence is concerning. I came home early today to warn you, our guests, to be even more discreet, but I see in this case I am too late.”

Kushim paused and held out his hand as a sign to wait. “This is whom you came to battle and what brings you this great distance to our home. Our adversary has arrived. He is named Noha.”

“She did speak in her strange tongue,” Amarenzu said.

Kushim nodded. “It was expected.”

“Fucking Modi,” Dov exclaimed in English. Emerson looked at her, surprised at her language but also satisfied.

Dov then spoke in Sumerian to Kushim. “I do believe in your wisdom. Our adversary introduced to you as Noha, we know as Asmodi. He is why we are here. He is whom you must be protected from.”

Emerson spoke in English, “He goes by too many names, that should be suspicious enough. Ask Kushim if the priest, Noha, was accompanied by anyone, by any women.”

Kushim nodded upon translation. He stared at Emerson and replied. “Yes, Noha arrived with two others. Two immoral women. I found it wrong that the priest would direct his militia against immodesty when he appears with his two escorts, or perhaps wives. Each with long dark hair and fair skin. They wear their tunics without shame or modesty.”

“Elinda,” said Emerson, feeling both angry and confused.

“And Lexus,” added Dov, annoyed. Her cheeks heated.

“I will arrange a private council with the high priest-king and petition for Cara’s release. This must only be a misunderstanding, and worse, ill treatment of guests of Uruk.”

“You must be careful,” said Dov. “Let us accompany you.”

* * *

The guards pushed Cara forward and removed the hood covering her head. Before she could digest her surroundings, the sentries closed the door with a loud bang. She found herself in a square empty room with a stone floor. A narrow window at the top of the wall opposite the door allowed dull light into the room. She concluded she must be in the ziggurat because of the number of stairs she’d climbed to arrive.

She moved to the corner nearest the window, sat cross-legged on the floor, and closed her eyes. She first thought of Amarenzu, and how frightened she must be. She hoped that the girl had been able to make it home to alert everyone. This reflection led her to the next worry. How would Dov react?

Cara stood, paced about the room, and finally rested in the corner. She meditated to calm her nerves. If Modi had meant to harm her, and she knew the bald man must be Modi, she would have been harmed already. He had other plans. By now Dov and her AIs, along with Kushim, must be well into devising a plan to free her. She smiled and knew that her rescue was imminent.

* * *

“Release the nano-drones,” said Dov next to Uriel. She told Emerson, “With their search pattern, it shouldn’t be hard to track Cara down. We start at the market and radiate out from there. There really shouldn’t be a single room in Uruk they can’t penetrate.”

“I hope so,” said Emerson. “We need information. From there we can figure out how to rescue her.”

“We’ll find her,” said Dov.

The time travelers sat together in the back courtyard, apart from the Sumerians, who likewise huddled together inside. Kushim’s family spoke in hushed, careful tones. The episode had shaken them, especially Iamma.

“They want us gone, I bet,” said Emerson, who watched the family debate. “We are now a threat to them. Bad luck, negative karma.”

“I agree. We should probably be prudent,” said Dov. “But we need to find Cara first, they must understand that.”

“One problem at a time,” said Uriel. “Let’s discuss Cara, shall we? She is as critical as Kushim is and our duty is to protect them both. I concur with you, Emerson, and also Dov, with your opinion. We must find her. Ariel and I are working on a plan that will provide us with the highest chance for success.”

“Continue,” urged Dov.

Uriel nodded. “The firefly project, similar to the firefly transformation that we did in Sandon, but rather than a virtual projection of information, I will boost and secure the network in a way that Modi cannot detect. Finally, I will deliver an implant for Cara so she can communicate with me directly and quietly.”

“Can you tell me in English what Uriel just said?” asked Emerson.

“He will package communication and processing into a fabricated insect form. We call that form a firefly and the firefly will interface with our technology using the network created by the nano-drones we launched. To communicate, Uriel as a firefly will implant another microscopic chip in Cara so she can hear and speak to him with her thoughts. This way we will gain intelligence but also reassure Cara we are around.”

“Sounds amazing,” said Emerson. “Though it wasn’t in plain English, I will just accept what you said. Essentially Uriel will transform into a spy bug.” He laughed. “When do you begin?”

“This evening,” said Uriel.

“Yeah, the sooner the better, please,” said Dov. “This is very stressful.”

* * *

“Cara?”

Cara enjoyed herself at a picnic with a glass of white wine and cheeses. Dov swam in the lake next to her. Uriel approached and…

“Cara, it’s Uriel. Don’t speak out.”

A fly whirred around her face. She swatted at the fly to keep it from the wine.

“Cara, think about hello.”

The insect was speaking to her. “Hello,” she thought, addressing the fly and opening her eyes, now awake.

“Hello, Cara. Don’t talk. I’m Uriel. I am communicating with you via this firefly. Tell yourself this is not a dream. Think it, don’t say it.”

“Am I dreaming?” Cara whispered to the fly.

“Shhh,” said the fly inside Cara’s head. “You are not crazy. You are witnessing twenty-ninth century technology. I am fabricated to resemble a firefly. I implanted another nanochip inside your ear that can pass on thoughts interfaced via your brainwaves. Now think, Hello, Uriel the firefly.”

Cara focused and thought, “Hello, Uriel the firefly.”

“Perfect. This is operational,” Uriel told Cara. “We’ve spent the last six hours searching for you. You weren’t difficult to find—your scent is characteristic and unique for Uruk. A dog would have found you much sooner, but we didn’t bring along sensors with that level of sophistication. No matter. Are you unhurt, Cara?”

“I am hungry and super thirsty, but otherwise okay, yes,” thought Cara to the fly. “I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole, thinking to a fly.” Cara smiled. “But it’s pleasant to know you are here, even as a fly.”

“I passed along the message to Dov and the others that you are unharmed. I am in constant contact with them. Now, did you discover why you were imprisoned or any other important information? Also, Dov wishes to have me reassure you that you will be out shortly”

“I don’t know. They shared nothing with me—as if they would anyway. Besides, the translation algorithms are terrible.”

Uriel buzzed about her without responding, then thought to her, “Dov says we will do everything to find out what’s going on, and get you out of here.”

Cara thought, “If Modi is involved, I wouldn’t hold your breath that it will be easy. Doesn’t he want me dead, after all?”

“Dov says, not necessarily. Your significance relates to events in Boston. He may be using you to get to Kushim and expose him, making him vulnerable.”

“Great of Dov to say that, but she is only speculating. Modi’s killed a lot of people; what’s one more casualty? Though I do agree, since he’s kept me alive, there must be a reason.”

“I didn’t communicate the first part of that to Dov,” said Uriel. “But I understand your worry. Tomorrow Kushim will petition the high king to release you. He had promised us that Modi, who is now calling himself Noha, holds influence but is not yet in charge. Let’s be optimistic.”

“Did you say Noha?” thought Cara.

“Yes, he probably chose a name to suit the era and context.”

“Well, I will remain optimistic, but I am a realist, Uriel.” Cara walked to the corner and lay down. “I am so thirsty.” She looked toward the ceiling, not wanting to project her thoughts anymore. She muttered faintly, “Listen, Uriel, I just want to sleep now. At least when I’m sleeping I’m not aware. I’m stressed—possibly your sensors know that. I appreciate you being here, of course, and please don’t leave. But if you can’t get me some water, please let me sleep.”

Uriel flew to the opposite corner and settled on the floor. “Sleep well, Cara. I promise we will do everything to protect you and make you comfortable.”

Cara fell asleep, only to be awakened a few hours later when a guard opened the door and placed a pitcher of water, bread, and figs on the ground. He closed the door. Cara, still drowsy, quenched her thirst. Satiated, she scanned the room until she spotted the firefly opposite her. It glowed in shifting colors. “Did you do this, Uriel?” Cara tasted a handful of figs. “I hope these aren’t drugged.”

“We had one more subvocalizer microchip available. I may have implanted it, along with offering suggestive thoughts to the guard. We have a new ally on our side, even if he doesn’t know it. I scanned the food; it’s safe.”

“Come here, little firefly,” thought Cara.

The firefly landed on Cara’s outstretched hands. She raised her hand holding the glowing fly to her face and gently kissed the fly. “Thank you, Uriel.”