Author’s note: Many years ago (don’t even think of asking how many) I read a book by David Gerrold, published in 1973, called, The Man who Folded Himself

It was a very different novel, and was actually nominated for a Nebula and a Hugo Award. The idea for this came from that book. Chapters 1 and 2 are loosely based on the beginning, but after that, it goes it’s separate way.

This is a story that will be added to when I have time, so please don’t expect it in any particular schedule.

Thank you to Malady for editing this.

--Rosemary

The Letters - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It had been a long time since Gregory had been to the home of his grandfather.

I know. Lots of stories start this way, but this is somewhat different.

Let’s resume.

Greg took the key out of his pocket and looked around. He turned a complete circle as he surveyed the property. There was nothing there except weeds. The mailbox was destroyed entirely. It appeared as though someone had driven by with a baseball bat and smashed it at high speed. The post still stood, although the top was jagged, but the mailbox was nowhere to be seen. He unlocked the door and entered the house.

On his twenty-first birthday, he had gained ownership, which was strange. He hardly knew his grandfather. He would have thought that someone else might have been willed the home, or the old man could have sold it. It should have paid off all debts, but strangely, he was the only beneficiary. There didn't seem to be any bank holding a mortgage, or unpaid taxes. He wasn’t going to argue.

On entering, however, he thought better. There was nothing in the house at all. Wallpaper was falling off the walls, and he saw more than one rat turd on the floor. He almost turned around and walked out, but he saw a bundle of sealed envelopes on the floor beside the door. His name was written on each envelope, in a flowing script: Gregory Anderson.

He took them into the kitchen, and if he’d thought the front room was terrible, the kitchen was utterly disease-laden. He looked through the back door, and there were more weeds. At one time, there may have been a patio and pool, but it was hard to tell.

Back into the front room and up the stairs, and he found more decaying house with not a thing in it. The restroom facilities were a disgusting avocado green, matching the kitchen, which was not a plus.

He went downstairs and glanced around again. There was no reason to stay. He would talk to a realtor in the morning and sell the house. He had hoped that there might be something of value, but there was nothing. Nothing.

He was about to leave when he spied something. Now you're probably thinking, ah, this is where he finds out that his grandfather had a secret room under the staircase, or something else silly like that.

Well, yes and no. You see, there was a closet under the staircase, but that's all. He almost didn't find it, but something compelled him to reach into a recess under one of the steps. He pulled out a plastic grocery bag with something inside it. He reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a belt of some kind. He shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the house, disgusted at the lack of anything substantial. Shit, he thought. The belt is probably worth more than the house! That was probably correct. There was very little value left in the house.

Gregory jumped into his car and headed home. On the way, he stopped to get a beer, then thought better of it and got a case. He drove on to his apartment and went inside. Throwing the letters on the kitchen table, he grabbed a beer, then put the rest in the fridge to hopefully cool down.

He grabbed the remote for his TV and went to turn it on; then, he realized he hadn't eaten most of the day, so he called Domino's Pizza and had them deliver a Ham and Pineapple pizza. It arrived just shy of a half-hour later (he timed it), and he paid the bill, excluding a tip. He didn't have much to his name.

That reminded him. He picked up a letter and saw Gregory Anderson on the envelope again. It was handwritten. He'd never seen another guy's handwriting so neat. He wondered if his grandfather had written it, or someone else.

He had been raised for as long as he could remember, by a woman who fit into the picture with his grandpa… Well, as far as Greg knew, she didn't. It did look like her writing, though. She was very particular in how he was raised and made sure his writing was as neat as hers. The writing on the envelopes couldn't be hers, however. She had died five years ago, and this looked pretty new.

He finally popped open a beer and took a sip. He looked again at his name on the envelope, then carefully ripped the edge open. He blew into it to open it wide and pulled out the letter.

It was on thin paper and was in the same, careful handwriting as the envelope. It was formal in its address of him: Gregory Glendale Anderson. It seemed strange that the writer had used his middle name on the letter, but not on the envelope, but then again, it hardly mattered.

He took another sip of beer, then started to read.

Gregory Glendale Anderson;

You are wondering who is writing this letter, and I will tell you that Grace is, and I, your grandfather, am dictating it.

I know that you have entered the house now. Obviously, because you're reading this letter. You will need to read the letters in order, as I have much to explain to you, and you will need to take the precaution of reading carefully.

Some of what I'm about to tell you will seem strange, but I ask that you hear me out.

You will have found the belt in the closet under the stairs. Grace knows that you love Harry Potter, so I decided to honor that by placing the belt there.

Keep the belt with you at all times! It is essential and will allow you to do almost anything you wish. I know that sounds like hogwash, but it's true.

I'm going to tell you how, this is possible, by explaining how I used it.

I don't know how it works, or even how it's powered, but the belt can move you through time. Yes, I know that sounds preposterous, but put the beer down and listen. Well, read on, anyway. Yes, I'm fully aware that you have a case of Rainier in your fridge, and that you've taken five sips of the first one.

At this, Greg looked around him. How could his grandpa know that? He died two years ago!

Now, you've just about finished that first beer. I'm not playing some parlor trick, Greg. I just want you to know that I really can move through time.

Greg took one more drink and drained the last of the can. This was starting to unnerve him.

He had finished the first page of the letter and got up to get another beer. He popped the top and took a sip. There was a rough spot where he caught his lip, so he poured it into a glass. He sat down and turned the page.

Don't you hate it when there's a rough spot on the rim of a can? Smart move, pouring the beer into a glass.

He stared at the page. What the Hell?! He felt like he was going to hyperventilate! It was evident that someone was watching him, but how?

I know you think you're being watched, and in a way, you are, but you need to hear me out. Let me give you a demonstration, okay? I want you to get the belt… you left it in the car, by the way… and press on the right side of the buckle one time. You'll hear one beep, then tap the center of the buckle.

Oh, and put the belt on, please, before you do any of this.

Greg stared at the paper for quite some time. He finished his beer, then another. He wasn't sure how to take any of this. His grandpa was dead. He knew that. He had seen the body. They had cremated it, for God's sake!

And what about Grace? Same scenario. Only there, he found the body and tried to do CPR. He failed, but by God, he had tried. She was the closest thing he knew to a mother. Well, Grandmother. She and his grandfather were the same age.

As he contemplated, he opened a fourth beer and took an idle sip. He was starting to feel lightheaded, and he stood up to get the belt from his car. He almost made it to the door, but then realized he would never get back without soaking his pants, so he turned to head to the restroom. Unfortunately, his turn was a bit too sharp, and the floor rushed up to meet him. Soon, he was snoring.

In the morning, Greg slowly climbed to his feet. He was distinctly uncomfortable and realized he had been unable to reach the bathroom. He shuffled to the bathroom, pulled off his sodden clothes, then carefully stepped over the side of the tub. He misplaced his foot inside, and slipped. He came down hard. Thankfully, he missed crushing his crotch on the edge of the tub, and instead, almost dislocated his right hip by hitting the back of his leg on it instead.

After a few barely decipherable words left his mouth, he realized his head, while throbbing, was clear.

It hurt to stand up, but he made it, and leaned against the wall. He turned on the water and let it just run down his body. It was hot, but he was hoping it might ease the pain in his leg.

Eventually, he eased his way out of the shower and into his bedroom where he found some clothes that weren't to smelly and threw them on. His head was much clearer, but his leg hurt like hell. He supposed he should go to an urgent care, but he knew they'd tell him that he needed to ice it and stay off it. He could figure that out for himself.

He limped out to the living room, past the wet spot from his collapse, and out to his car where he found the belt. Back inside, he looked at it carefully. It was a rather normal looking belt, and the buckle was rectangular. Kind of a bronze color, so not unattractive.

Something was tickling his mind. He'd seen this before, he was sure of it, but the more he thought about it, the less he could seem to remember.

He fingered the buckle a bit, then he remembered what the letter said. Press on the right side once, then the center. He did that.

The belt hadn’t moved, but it felt like his arms were almost pulled out of their sockets.

“Didn’t put it on, did you?” Wha?

“I didn’t either,” the voice continued. "Almost pulled my arms out of their sockets. I ended up sitting there, looking just like you do now.”

The Letters Chapter 2

Greg turned and looked at the speaker. He saw – himself. He certainly wasn’t expecting such a strange things to happen. It was bewildering.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked. His voice was a little shaky, and his arms felt like there was no strength in them.

“Well, as I said, I forgot to put the belt on and ended up… Well… You. Your arms are really sore, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I could pick up a can of beer, but if you have any Rainier left, I’d love to try.”

“Saved one for you.” The future him went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. “I lied. I’ve still got a few left, but you certainly drank plenty last night, didn’t you?”

“I think I overdid it a bit, yeah.” He looked at Future Him and said, “I’m still not convinced that you’re me.”

“I know, but by the end of our conversation, you will be.”

Greg looked at his 1 day older self. “Right. I suppose you know that because yesterday, you were me.”

“That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”

Past Greg shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth.”

Past moved the letter he had been reading and was about to pick up the next letter. Future stopped him, by picking up the stack of future letters. “I can’t let you read that letter yet. Of course, once you go back in time to one day ago, I can’t stop you. You need to read them in order.”

Past sighed and finished reading letter number one. “I warned you to put the belt on, but I know your future self has already told you not to do that again.”

“Now, to get back to your time, simply press the left side of the buckle once, then tap the center.”

“Your Grandpa”

“That’s it? That’s all it says?”

“I’m afraid so.

“But what if I don’t want to go back to my own time? After all, it’s just yesterday.”

Future shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it messes with the fabric of time and space to stay too long in another time and place?”

“I’ve always heard that if we were to touch, we’d blow up the universe.”

Future shook his head. “That only happens if the particles are identical. We’re not.”

“So you’re not me!” Past said, triumphantly.

“Yes, I am, but think about it. I drank more beers in my past, once you left. That changes my mass. Heck, since a second ago, I’ve lost skin cells. That makes my mass not the same as I was then. I wouldn’t say it’s impossible, but very unlikely for two of us to be absolutely identical.”

“But at the quantum level, it could happen.”

“Yeah, but that could theoretically happen at any time or place. You put the same spin on a particle and they can be identical. But I’m not even sure if that would happen. I think matter and antimatter would be more likely to cancel each other. Unless you’re planning to fuel a starship, I don’t think you’ve got any antimatter on your person.”

Past glared. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Heard my future self say it yesterday. Or rather today. Whatever.”

They talked for a little while longer, then Past Greg touched the belt buckle in a certain way and he was suddenly alone in the apartment, and it looked exactly as it had before he left.

-=#=-

The first thing Greg did when he returned to the past was read the second letter his grandfather had left for him.

Greg;

Now, I hope I don’t have to tell you to put the belt on again. It really is rough when you don’t. Yes, you’ll make it, but too many times in a row, and you’ll need to buy stock in Bengay®.

Now, I’m not going to tell you too much right now, because this is all new to you. Just know that there are certain ways to tap the belt that will take you to different points in history. It doesn’t work for taking you to different points on the globe. If you want to go to a different point on the globe, either go there before hand or be prepared to find transportation in the time you travel to.

I’ll tell you more about that later. There are some things you’ll need to remember.

Anyway, I don’t want to get things too confusing, so I’ll make this a very short letter so you don’t get overwhelmed.

Greg was almost angry at the brevity of the letter, but a belt that was able to take him to any time he wished was an almost overwhelming concept, and if you didn’t move in space, then he could see some definite dangers in going into the future. Even the past. What would happen if he was to pop in where someone else stood? What would happen? Would he kill someone? Would they be moved out of the way? How would that work.

He decided to clean up his apartment. He had seen how it was cleaned when he got to the future. He didn’t remember every detail, but he supposed that the continuity of the timeline would keep his work the same as it had been for his future self. Himself? He didn’t know how to think about himself in different parts of his timeline. It was all so confusing.

When he had finished cleaning his apartment for his upcoming guest – Past, he decided to call his past self – made sense. When he had finished, he took off the belt, and examined it, being careful not to touch the spots that would send him careening through time.

He realized that Grace had a buckle just like it, that she always wore, but hers had a narrower belt. He wasn’t sure what that meant, or if hers was a timebelt or not. Maybe it was just a copy that didn’t do anything.

Before he could do anymore thinking on the topic, however, there was a popping sound, and Past appeared, looking very sick.

“Didn’t put it on did you?” he asked Past. “I didn’t either. Almost pulled my arms out of their sockets. I ended up sitting there, looking just like you do now.”

-=#=-

“Oh, to see their faces in their first travel through time,” Grace said as she finished writing the second letter.

“It was such a long time ago,” Grandfather said as he tapped out his pipe.

“I’ll have been dead for twenty years by the time they read these letters.”

“Sort of,” he replied.

“I need to rest for awhile, George,” Grace said as she stood up.

“Say goodnight, Gracie,” the old man told her as he refilled his pipe.

She laughed and fingered her belt buckle. There was a pop, and she disappeared. He wasn’t sure where she called home. She hadn’t told him. He thought about the two boys in his past, or future, depending on how you looked at it, who thought that time continuity had to remain the same. He laughed. Well, they’d learn soon enough that it wasn’t that way.

It wasn’t that way at all.

---

Please don’t forget to comment and leave Kudos!

Thanks, Rosemary.

Thanks Malady, for your help in editing!

The Letters Chapter 3

Greg opened envelope number three. He had to admit, the belt appeared to work, and he also assumed that his grandfather had somehow either invented the thing, or found somehow.

Thus, when he opened the letter, it was with great anticipation that he started reading.

Kinda neat, isn't it? I really enjoyed it the first time I tried it too. Sorry to say, you're getting a hand-me-down time belt. I'm not sure how long the power will last, but it doesn't seem to have lost any potential since I started using it.

I know you are wondering how I know about you,. What you're thinking. I'll let you consider that yourself. There's no need for me to tell you. You'll figure it out yourself.

You've been wondering about going too far in time. Doing that is dangerous. I said I'd explain, and I'm going to now. You see, the time belt only displaces you in time. Not in physical location.

Hah! Grace is telling me that time is a physical location. Because of the constant motion of our world, it has to be, and I suppose she's right to a point. The fact is, I'm not completely sure of the methods that the damned thing works with.

Now Grace is telling me to watch my language. This is my letter, and I'll dictate it the way I please.

Anyway, since the belt only transports you through the 4th dimension (happy Grace? She's nodding yes) things can change in the first three. For example, what if you transported into where a tree grew, or had been years before? What if you tried to visit Pompeii? The ground level was considerably lower before the volcano erupted.

You see the problem? You need to take baby steps to get to a far off time. Of course, going into the future can be a big problem also. You don't know how the landscape might change tomorrow even. Pick a very stable spot to time jump on.

I'm going to let you go and think about things.

Greg flipped the letter, hoping something might have been written on the other side, but nothing was. He set it down.

Think about things, Grandfather had said. How did his grandfather know what he was thinking? He wasn't sure. It didn't make sense. He suddenly realized there was one way his grandfather would know. It was silly, but what if his grandfather wasn't that at all? What if his grandfather was him? He laughed at the idea, but it would explain a lot of things.

He suddenly realized that there was a place that he knew would be in the same place when his grandfather was alive. The house! It had been the old man's home. But first, he needed some sleep.

He arrived at the house and looked at it. It had a forbidding appearance. There were gargoyles on the roof. He'd not noticed them before. Not had he noticed that the house looked like a castle from England. Strange.

He opened the ten foot high wooden door and carefully entered. He didn't want the giant rats attacking. He'd seen the skeleton of a velociraptor here the last time he'd been by. A giant rat was still chewing on the bones as he walked by. It had turned and smiled at him, welcoming him to it's dining room.

Now, the skeleton was simply a pile of ash that blew across the floor. All except the middle claw of their hind legs. They were still whole, and as he walked by, one launched itself at him, intent on removing his eyes.

He ran, looking for a way upstairs. He knew the claw couldn't climb stairs, but they weren't there! How was he supposed to get upstairs?

He suddenly had an idea! He ran to the bathroom and pulled himself into the tub faucet. He took a deep breath and slipped by the cold water valve and hurried upstairs. He made it to the upstairs bathroom, and tried to get through the valve there. He couldn't! It wouldn't budge. He tried and tried, but he was running out of air! What was he going to do?

Greg awoke in a cold sweat. What the hell was that about? Did going to the house freak him out? Was he afraid of what his grandfather might say? He wasn't sure.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t. After twisting and turning for awhile, he gave up and got up. It was about 4 in the morning, and he really didn’t want to be up yet, but it seemed that what he wanted wasn’t going to be honored on this day.

He looked in the fridge, but nothing was left that he might find interesting. Some chicken salad from a few weeks ago was developing intelligence in the back, but he really didn’t have the energy to pull it out. Not to mention, he considered that if he disposed of it, he might be creating genocide on some unwitting new, although microscopic, civilization.

Some sour cream and yogurt had fallen into it, and there was, no doubt, a mixed gene pool. He closed the fridge, wondering if they’d soon start demanding equal rights.

Rather than deal with bacterial cultures, in either sense of the word, he took a quick shower. Getting rid of the sweat from his weird dream, seemed to help, so he glanced in the mirror, afraid of what he’d see.

He knew that would be a mistake, so he wasn’t surprised when he saw that he needed to get rid of his facial hair. Should he do it now? No. He didn’t have the energy for that either. Instead, he went into his room and pulled clean clothes out. Clean shirt, socks, pants, panties. He got dressed, and was ready. Oh yeah. Shoes. Where were the damned things? He looked around and finally found them. They had somehow crawled partway under the sofa where he’d dreamed of water faucets and raptor claws last night.

He was partway to the door when he felt his pants starting to slip down, and he immediately changed course and started looking for his belt. His timebelt! Where was it? He almost tore the apartment apart when he had a suspicion. He went into the bathroom and looked at the floor.

Would you believe that!? It was still in the belt loops from last night!

Feeling properly stupid, he hitched up his jeans, and cinched up his belt. Anything else he might need? His phone perhaps? That was on the table, right where he’d left it from the night before. Where Past left it from the night before. His phone was now 24 hours younger than it had been in relation to himself. Damn! He’d have to remember not to do that type of thing again.

Once more he turned around and began ripping things apart when he got to his car and realized that he couldn’t unlock it. Don’t laugh! At least he remembered to lock it!

Finally, after throwing everything from his dirty laundry basket onto the floor, he found his keys. His wallet? They were in the same pair of jeans. He got to the door, and deliberately stopped. Looking back at the mess he’d made because he wanted to go out for breakfast. He hadn’t had the energy to prepare anything, and look what he’d done to save energy.

He made a decision. He walked back to the fridge, opened it, reached in and grabbed the chicken salad. He pulled it and the sour cream / yogurt/ chicken genetic soup out and retched at the smell. Walking over to the garbage can, he dropped the mess into it and walked out the door.

He took a look at the time on his… He knew he’d forgotten something. He didn’t have his watch, but he pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 7 AM. He’d wasted an hour and a half looking for things. He backed his car out of its space and drove to the nearest Dennys.

There was a small pop as two people appeared, pushing the air out of where they stood. Greg’s grandfather, and Grace.

Looking around at the mess, Grace shook her head and giggled. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a mess this bad. Well, I’ve cleaned up your place enough times,” she told the grandfather.

“You expect me to believe that your home never looks like this?”

“I’ve changed a lot,” she told him.

-=#=-

Greg entered his grandfather's house. Technically, it was his, but he wasn't sure he wanted to inhabit it at the moment. Not after his dream. It just didn't seem to be a good thing. He wondered what would happen if he went back 20 years. Honestly, he didn't know what carpet would do to his shoes. Would he materialize with his shoes inside carpet? He looked down at the floor. There was no evidence that carpet had ever been on the floor. He hadn't opened the Fourth letter yet, so he did now.

Well, here you are in the house, and you're wondering where to materialize. Well, I’ll tell you. The floors are hardwood, so nothing is ever placed right under the chandelier in the center of the dining room.

Ha! I call it a dining room, but in reality, it’s more of a four dimensional transporter platform.

You can always safely transport into this house safely, there.

That’s all the letter said. He flipped it over, and found something interesting, however. It was a description of the controls on the belt. It showed how to travel days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, and so on. He decided to move two decades into the past. His grandfather would be alive then, and he’d like to talk to him.

He pushed the controls the required way. He felt a displacement, like he had before, but it seemed that nothing changed. He reached down to see what happened, but he heard a voice behind him.

“You traveled in time correctly, young man.”

He turned around, and saw his grandfather. The old man was standing with a cane and a missing leg. Greg thought about it and realized that it was now the year 2000. That meant that his grandfather would be about sixty years old.

“What happened to your leg?” Greg asked. “You had it the last time I saw you, and you were older than this.”

The old man indicated the time belt that he had on. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not from this time?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that, Gregory. I am. Well, relatively, anyway.” His eyes sparkled as he said it.

“Cute pun. Where’s the furniture?” Greg asked, looking around.

“There isn’t any. This is my secret lair, I suppose you could call it. I bought this long ago, and use it specifically for the purpose of time travel. I know this is a safe place.” He patted his stump. “You asked about the leg? Well, I lost it when I transported into a place I shouldn’t have. My leg transported into a boulder.” He laughed as he told the punchline to the story. “Really gave the paleontologists a start, I can tell you. They didn’t know what to do. They thought the boulder was from billions of years ago. It wasn’t, but they didn’t know what to do when they found the fossil of my leg inside.”

He lifted his stump in front of him and looked down. “You say you see me later in life and I have my leg. The fact is, medical technology in the future is such that parts of your body can be regrown. I’ll go to the future to do just that.”

Greg nodded. “How far in the future is that?”

“About a hundred years, when I trust their procedures enough to have it done.”

“So you’ve traveled in time a lot. How old are you?”

“You’re so full of questions, young man.” he indicated the way into the kitchen. “I brought some lawn chairs with me, so we can sit out back and talk.” He started moving in that direction, and Greg had no recourse but to follow him.

-=#=-

In Greg’s apartment, the Grandfather and Grace popped away, as if they’d never been there.

---

Please don't forget to leave kudos and comment! Thanks! Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 4

"Yeah. I've got a lot of questions."

"’How is this possible?’ I've really got no idea. If I did, I'd be a millionaire."

"Okay. How..."

"Do I know what you're thinking and doing all the time? You've considered that. Remember what Sherlock Holmes said." His Grandfather held out his hand, inviting Greg to complete the thought.

"When you've exhausted all the other possibilities, then the impossible, no matter how crazy, must be the answer."

"Well... Close enough."

"So, are you me?"

"Bingo!"

"Is Grace your wife?"

His Grandfather, or rather Future, sighed and said, "and here you were doing so good."

"I see. I'll have to work on that."

"Yeah. I think you'll figure it out eventually. Just think about it."

"What do you mean you think I'll figure it out eventually. You're me, I thought." Greg was confused, now.

"And here we have some of your misconceptions," Future said, laughing.

"What do you mean?" Greg wondered.

"Well, you think time is fixed. The fact is, you can change it."

"How so?"

Future chuckled. "Just what I said. You might not lose your leg like I did." He laughed a bit more. "You might take the knowledge you gained from me, and avoid what I did."

Greg shook his head. "I don't know that I understand this. So one of me could die early. Or one of me might live longer."

"That's a possibility. Just because you know that my version of you lived into his sixties, doesn't mean all of us do."

"Wait a minute!" Greg suddenly had an epiphany. "I'm transgender. So is Grace me?"

"I couldn't tell you. Maybe. I know she's a version of us, but are you that version? I couldn't begin to say."

Greg sighed. "This is so weird. I always thought she was a real woman."

"Well, she is," Future told him. "Remember how I said medical tech has really advanced in the future? They've learned how to recombine DNA. They can rearrange your DNA so that you're female. They can take you back into your childhood so you grow the way you should have."

"How come you didn't do that?" Greg asked.

"Think about it. I can be made younger. I still have time."

"How come I saw one of you… I mean, us die?"

"From what I can tell, there are flaws in the recombining of genes. Eventually, they can't do it anymore."

"It develops problems?"

"Sure, Kid. Even the first time, there are variances in the combinations. You keep building those up, it's eventually gonna get really bad."

Greg nodded. “Sort of like that Michael Crighton story, Timeline. The more they…”

“Yeah, Kid. I know the story. Just as well as you do,” Future said, frustrated.

“How do I know that? You just said we aren’t necessarily the same person.” He stared at Future as if daring him to contradict him.

“Okay. I get it,” Future said. “You’re right, you might know something I don’t. Think you’re a cocky little…”

He was cut off as a female voice came from within the house. “Gregory!”

A moment later, Grace walked out, carrying a small table. She set it on the grass, walked back into the house, then came out with a chair in one hand and a cooler in the other. She set up the chair, and then sat down.

This was a completely different Grace than any Greg had ever seen. She was maybe twenty. Honestly, she could have been Greg’s sister. His younger sister.

“Don’t worry, Greg. You - well, maybe you - will get to look at this body as much as you want.” She gave him an impish grin. “Kinda confusing never knowing which of me I’m talking to.”

“Don’t you mean which of me?” Greg asked.

“Maybe. Are you one of me?”

“I hope so!” Greg told her.

Completely straight-faced, she asked, “Are you trans?”

“Of course, how would I not be?”

Future shook his head. “You don’t get this do you, Kid?” He shook it in disgust again. “Hell, I don’t even get it. Explain it, Gracie!”

“You don’t get it, Gregory. I told you, don’t you ever give me orders again.”

“Oh… You’re that Gracie. You must have been regressed again. How many more do you have? Kinda getting worn down. Aren’t you, girl?”

She glared at the old man. “Not like you, you bastard. You’re the one who didn’t watch where he was going and ended up losing his leg. Pissing his pants while he stood there screaming for his mommy because he wanted a warm shoulder as he cut his own leg off.” She looked away, and Greg thought he saw a tear in her eye as she kept muttering about the ‘pain in her ass’.

What the hell? Greg thought. My different selves can’t even get along?

“No, we don’t always get along,” Future said, as if reading his mind. “Sometimes, we get like this particular Gracie and me. We don’t hate each other, but we don’t always get along.”

“Speak for yourself, Gregory. I haven’t liked you since I was your age.”

Future laughed outright. “She gets a bit cocky. She built the time belt. Says we males are too primitive to understand how it works.”

“That’s impossible,” Greg said.

“No,” Grace said. “Men really are too primitive.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Greg explained. “All of this is because of the time belt, but if you’re some future version of me, or one of me, then you can’t have invented it. It’s a paradox.”

“Listen to that, Gregory. He was listening!” She turned back to Greg. “You get a gold star! Except, you’re making a huge assumption. Which came first, Greg? The belt or me? It’s the old chicken and the egg stuff.”

“Well, I’m going to say, the belt didn’t just jump into being.”

“No, it didn’t, but don’t dismiss things just because they sound ridiculous to you.” She gave him a radiant smile.

“You seem to think I’m a future version of you. Your being transgender is a biological accident.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What if that’s just an assumption?” What if you’re a future version of me? Or of him? Have you thought of that?”

"How could that be the case? I'd remember!"

"Not necessarily. There are reasons someone might forget things," Grace suggested. She seemed to enjoy making his head spin.

“Oh, this is starting to hurt,” Greg said, putting his head down on the table in front of him.

Future shook his head. "You know, I brought him here to explain things. Not confuse him more."

She turned to Future. "You couldn't explain hair to a dog."

"I'm assuming," Greg said looking up, "that this is just a mental exercise."

Future guffawed at that. "Mental is right."

Grace gave him a dirty look, then shook her head. "The part about Gregory being a previous version was. He's obviously a future version as he seems to know your thoughts."

"What about you?" The young man asked.

"Have I displayed a penchant for knowing what you're thinking?"

"That's hardly conclusive. You may just be hiding things from me. Besides," he said, feeling he finally was beginning to get a handle on things. "You asked if I was trans."

“So? We’ve done so much with this belt, there are literally thousands of different versions of us. It means nothing.”

He felt deflated. “So am I a later version or an earlier version of you?”

She shook her head “I really don’t know,” she answered. He started to say something, but she shook her head. “Wait, Greg. What I mean is, I really have no idea if you and I are the same person. There’s no way to tell.”

"What about those Star Trek or Stargate things, where they'd check the person's signature thingamajig?" he asked.

"Doesn't work that way, Greg. We're all here in the same universe. Time is a dimension. Nothing more. That's what's changed with the belt. The dimension of time. We aren't flung to a different universe," she explained. "That's just science fiction."

“I don’t know either, Kid. We may be directly the same person, but there could be a divergence somewhere in between us," the old man said, shaking his head.

Greg barely picked up on what Grace was saying, when she muttered, “There’s a divergence with you, alright.”

Future glared at her, so it was quite apparent that he had heard her words as well.

Greg had to stifle a laugh as he asked, “So can you tell me the truth about my situation? Am I a previous version of some female, or a later?”

“Ha!” Future scoffed. “I think we’re our own line. Not a version of a female at all.”

“It’s nice for you to think that, isn’t it, Gregory?” Grace asked the old man.

“Well, it’s better than thinking I might have come from you!” he almost shouted at the girl.

Then Future leaned forward to Greg and spoke in an icy calm voice. “I have come to the conclusion that I am me. There’s no future or past as far as I’m concerned. Only the me that is sitting here, talking to you.”

Grace giggled. “I suppose that makes sense in a twisted way. None of us knows whether someone that we meet along our journey is us or someone entirely different.”

“Precisely,” Future told her. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

“So,” Greg said, hesitantly. “You really don’t know how our life has progressed? Why wouldn’t I know if I’m a future version of either of you?”

“You must have realized by now, Kid. When someone is regressed, problems can arise. The thing is, none of the companies who specialize in regression want to admit that something bad has happened, so if it does, they regress the person to a very young age, and send him or her out into the world as a new child. New papers and everything.”

“We can determine that someone is one of us by their look, and verifying their DNA, but that’s about it,” Grace added.

“That doesn’t sound like a very reputable business,” Greg observed.

“No. None of them are.”

“Why do you go back to them.”

Future was silent for a bit, and finally said, “We just do.”

Greg turned to Grace. “Why?”

She simply shrugged.

Please don’t forget to leave kudos and comment!

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 5

Suddenly, Grace stood up. "Let's take a little trip."

"Where?" Greg asked.

"The future," she said grinning."

"Wait a minute!" Future exclaimed.  "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You never think anything's a good idea."

"None of yours are!"

"Only from your point of view, Gregory."

"Fine," the old man said.  "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Greg asked again.

"Haven't you been listening, Kid?" Future asked. "We're heading to right here, only in the future."

"Sorry," Greg told him.  "I should have said, 'When are we going?'"

As soon as he said it, he figured what the answer would be, and his speculation was proved correct.

"Now," Grace said, with a devilish gleam in her eyes.

Greg sighed and stood.  He followed into the dining room, and they stood together.  Grace told him to set his belt for nine hundred seventy-eight years into the future, and all three pressed their activation buttons.

What seemed to be instantly, the feeling of displacement disappeared, and Greg looked around.  The room hadn't changed in all that time.  Even looking through the window didn't look any different.  

Grace, however, led the way out of the house and to a vehicle waiting outside.  This was where, or rather when she had come from.

They got in the vehicle, which had no visible controls, and not even any wheels that he could see.

"1625 McDonald Boulevard," Grace told the car.

Smoothly, the vehicle seemed to lift and turn, then began accelerating.  It was a comfortable ride, but there were no windows he could see out of.  

"Can we see where we're going?" Greg asked.  

"Display," Grace said, and the air in front of them shimmered, then they were looking at a scene Greg would have expected from the front seat of an airplane. The ground had to be over a thousand feet below them and continued to drop.  

He wasn't sure how far they'd flown, but he could see definite movement below.  

They continued to accelerate and climb until he saw a vast expanse of water in front of them, then land was gone.

"Why are we going to the company?" Future asked, suddenly.

"To show it to young Greg," Grace responded. 

"Why?"

Grace shook her head. "I thought he'd probably like to know what he's dealing with."

Future shook his head.  "You always do things like this.  I really don't see that it's necessary."

"Why not?  Do you think he's in danger there?"

"You know," Greg said suddenly. "I'm in the car too."

Grace and Future laughed.  “So you are, Kid.  Sorry about that.  I forget that things like that can be considered rude,” Future added.

“Right,” Greg responded.  He noticed that the car seemed to be descending now, and was slowing down.  There was very little sensation either way, but there was still a bit of sensation saying their speed was dropping.  The water below seemed to have more detail as well.  

Very little was said for the rest of the trip as they continued to descend and slow.  Finally, Greg saw a distant island that drew closer very quickly.

At last, they were over land, and moving over a beach lined with giant heads looking out to sea.  Easter Island? Greg wondered.  What are we doing at Easter Island?

They set down on a concrete pad that was a ways inland, and then the whisper of the engine died away.  Then the doors opened and they stepped out.  Greg had grown up in the middle of the United States, and never gotten to the seashore at all.  He was transfixed by the view, and the smell was strange to him.  After looking towards the sea, he turned around, looking at what he could see of the island.  There was very little to see, except scrub brush and water.  He could see the heads looking out at the water, but there wasn’t much more.  In front of the car – plane? – was what looked like a bunker door.  Like the entrance to ‘Sarah’ – the house Sheriff Carter called home in the show, “Eureka”.  

“This is the ‘company’? Greg asked. “It looks like the entrance to a nuclear bunker.”

Grace giggled at that. “You know where we are in the future,” she said.  “This is 3023.  Very few buildings remain on the surface of the world.  Most are built underground.”

“You called this by an address on McDonald Boulevard, I think it was.  There’s no street here,” he said as he looked back and forth.  In fact, maybe ten ‘cars’ could park on this pad.  Granted, there was no need for a road, but the area looked abandoned except for the entryway rising out of the ground.  There were two cars sitting near theirs, but no more.

“City streets are more a designation of a route now.  This is on a route through the South Pacific Ocean, strangely, called McDonald Boulevard.”

They filed through the doorway into a circular room, perhaps six feet in diameter.  Greg guessed that it must be an elevator.  The door to the outside slowly closed.  He watched as the front of their car disappeared from view.  The light in the elevator seemed to be coming from the walls and ceiling.  

After a moment, he felt a gentle sensation as the floor started moving downward.  Above, he observed the ceiling rising.  Apparently, the ‘elevator’ was simply the floor.  He reached out to the wall and touched it.  Well, he touched something.  It seemed like it was just’ well, resistance!  There was no sensation of movement at all.

It seemed by the ceiling above them, that they descended nearly a thousand feet.  We must be considerably below sea level by this point, he observed.  

When they stopped, he turned and saw Future glaring at Grace.  “You’re her!” he said quietly, but with venom.

“Huh?” Greg asked.

“The car parked in her parking spot.”

“We’re all her in one way or another,” Greg said. He stopped for a moment.  “What her are you talking about?”

“She owns the company.  It takes a fifteen hundred digit, encrypted code to allow a car to park in her space.”  Future was still glaring at Grace.  His eyes hadn’t moved since Greg turned.

Greg looked at Grace.  “What does he mean, you own the company?”

She smiled gently.  “Not only did I make the belt that all of us wear, I also built the equipment that rejuvenates us.”

“There are fifteen companies spread across the globe,” Future explained, “but this is the first.  She’s the only one who can make one land where that one did.”

“There’s a flaw in your thinking,” she told Future.  “One of you could be her. The car could have responded to one of you.”

“Wait a minute,” Greg said looking back and forth between them. “How could the car respond to one of us.  You said there was no way to tell the difference, but obviously there is a way, if the car responds only to one person.”

“Another gold star!” Grace exclaimed, beaming radiantly at him.

“So you are her!” Greg said. “You have to be!”

“No,” she told him.  “I don’t have to be.  I’m very serious when I say one of you could be.”

“Don’t let her fool you, Greg.  Her car will only respond to her, and she flew it to the house.”

"If I am her, and I'm not saying I am, what difference does that make?  I would still be one of us.". Her twisted syntax confused Greg somewhat, but he was able to decipher it pretty well. He wished he'd brought some Tylenol along, though.

They had been meandering down a gleaming white corridor for a couple of minutes, and now came to a door.  It opened for them when Grace got near it.  They stepped inside the room, and while Greg looked around himself in wonder, Future shook his head.

"No!" He told Grace. "You won't do that to him."

"Wasn't this done to you?"

"What's going on?" Greg asked, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

The room was basically empty except for a cabinet.  Off one side was an arch with a small hall that seemed to lead nowhere.

"This is one of the genetic resequencing machines," Grace told him. "This is a rather interesting unit.  Seventeen years ago, you were an aging me and went through this very machine.  Only something went wrong.  The DNA strand broke down inside the machine.  It literally unwound, causing malfunctions." She glared at Future as she continued.  "The machine is programmed to abort if that happens. It had two choices at that point.  It could allow you to die, or reassemble you with a hard copy of your DNA.  From that, it could extrapolate what you would appear to be as a three year old.  It really can't go any further than that.  Even the processing for that is incredibly complex."

"If that's true, why am I male?"

She sighed.  "Genetically, we're the same.  Both genetically male. "Since the machine lost its DNA sequence from the physical me, it had to do a bank shift to the hard copy.  That lost the characteristics of how I had developed.  The computer saw the male chromosomes and built you from that point up.  It still had your memories, but my memories would hardly do any good in a three-year-old child."

Once more, Greg shook his head at the messed up syntax. "So where are our memories then?"

"This machine has been unused since then.  They're still inside it."

"Wait a minute.  You're genetically male?"

"Yeah.  Rather ironic, don't you think?  You're how our DNA says we're supposed to be, but you're Trans.  You want what I have."

He shook his head.  "Don't you?"

"Of course. I find it funny is all." She turned toward the arched hallway.  "Activate," she said.

A low hum of power came from all around them, and the hall lit up.

"In ya go," Grace said as she pointed what looked like a taser at Future. "Our memories do no more good in a computer than they do in a 3-year-old boy"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking my memories back."

"They're not yours," Future pointed out.

"Yes, they are.  I haven't gained them yet, but I will.  I'll be what he was supposed to be." She put a huge amount of disgust in her voice at the last.  "He just has to activate the machine.  It's waiting for him."

With that, she pulled the trigger and something happened.  Nothing physical came out of the gun but Future was suddenly on the floor convulsing as sparks seemed to jump all over his body.  

Greg smelled sizzled flesh as his eyes went wide.

"Doing worry.  He'll probably be okay." There was a big pop and the sparks and convulsing ended.  "Well, maybe," she added in surprise.

Turning to Greg she said, "it just needs your form to activate it.  You can go in willingly or not."

He sighed and stepped inside, not knowing what to expect.

The machine's sound intensified, and he saw a rainbow of colors swirling all around him.

He felt himself falling as he stood up straight, and the rainbow faded to blackness.  The black tasted like vanilla, although the smell was closer to anise.  He felt the scent of the burning Future vibrating throughout his taste buds.  He tried to stop it, but no sound would come out of his eyes.  

He inhaled sharply as the violet color suddenly tickled him, and he got a mouthful of fuzzy red light. He tried to spit it out as it smelled like aquamarine. 

Something told him that colors shouldn't feel like this, but he couldn't place why.  A moment later, he found himself lying on the floor, unable to move, and things faded to black.

---

Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments
--Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 6

Greg slowly regained consciousness and found himself lying on the floor, facedown. He got his arms in front of him and pushed.

His center of gravity felt off, but that wasn't totally unexpected.

As the headache from the dizzying sensations wore off, he found his mind was full of a massive bank of memories. As he sifted through them, he found that he remembered being the Grace that had just taken… taken what? He didn't know what had been taken. Granted, seventeen years of memories were now in her mind that hadn’t been previously. But those… he looked around for Grace. She was nowhere in sight.

Those memories would be a problem for Grace. Greg had them too, but he also had seventeen years of experience being Greg that tempered his own perspective.

He looked down at himself. Herself. She was definitely Grace now… again. Stop thinking like that. You'll just get another headache.

She looked toward the door and saw Future still lying there. She hurried over. As she knelt to check his pulse, she found that he was alive. She pulled him into the machine, and spoke some rapid-fire commands.

She heard the machine start as she moved to the cabinets. Opening them, she found the clothes she had left here 17 years ago and put them on. A few minutes later, the machine clicked off, and she heard a groan.

Moving to the opening, she saw Future getting to his feet. He had two again!

"I would have preferred not going into that damned thing again," he grumbled, although his voice was a considerably nicer sound than the raspy, old man voice he had just a few minutes before.

"Would you have preferred to come out female?" I asked, ignoring his curmudgeoness.

"I'm fine being male," he said. "I guess it's one more sign that you and I aren't of the same line." He appeared at least fifty years younger.

"One more? So you do know we're not the same?"

"I wasn't sure. Some of our people don't have this little adventure. One version of Grace is nice and doesn't shoot me." He sighed. "It's all so damned confusing."

"So you had this 'adventure?'"

He nodded. "Except my Future wasn't shot, and I came out of the machine still a man."

They started making their way back to the elevator.

"I'll tell you what," Future said. "Just for my own mental clarity, I'm gonna call you Gracie, and I sure hope you're nicer than your other self."

Gracie stopped walking and looked at Future. "I know what I remember, but this is gonna take a bit to process.

Future nodded. “I can imagine.”

They got to the elevator, and Gracie had an idea. “Let’s wait a few moments in here,” she said, indicating a room off the corridor. She touched the door controls, and a light flashed green, and then it opened. It closed, and a few minutes later, they heard footsteps in the hall. Gracie put her finger over her mouth, signaling that they needed to be quiet. Future nodded in agreement.

They heard the room controls being touched, and then a hand hitting the door. There was a curse, and then they heard quick footsteps down the hall.

Once the footsteps faded, they cautiously opened the door and peeked out. Grace was nowhere in sight, so they hurried to the elevator. Once the lift started up, Gracie breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to Future and said, “You couldn’t have come to this facility on your ‘adventure.’”

He cocked his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She held up a stunner and pointed it at him. “You indicated different versions of me in different ‘adventures.’ They couldn’t have controlled the equipment here.”

“You really do have your memories back, don’t you? You’re right. My adventure was at the Winnipeg facility.”

She nodded. “We’ve got to put a stop to this madness, you realize,” she said as she slipped the stunner back into her waistband.

The elevator reached the surface, and they stepped out into the sunshine. By her watch, it had been almost 24 hours since they arrived. She stepped back into the elevator and told him, “Stay there. I’ll only be a moment.”

She touched a control on her belt and was gone. Future had an idea what was happening, and he glanced at his own watch. Sure enough, in half an hour, she popped into being inside the elevator. “Did you do the facility as well?”

She nodded smugly. “It’s coded only to respond to me.”

He started to ask how she managed that, as Grace was simply a younger her.

“I trust you, Gregory,” she told him. “But only so far. I can’t tell you that.”

He nodded. “I can understand that.”

She touched the door controls, and they got into the car. A moment later, they were flying.

“She’s locked down there?” Gregory asked.

“She can’t call the elevator down, and even if she could, it won’t respond to her.” She sighed. “I remember being in her situation, and how frustrating it was.”

“That’s got to be incredibly strange for her. She has to remember what’s going to happen to her,” Gregory commented.

“She does. It’s horrible for her too. She’s living in a constant state of deja vu. It’s driving her mad. That’s why, when she can enter the machine, even though she knows she’ll become male, she’ll be lucid enough to it will be better than what she’s going through.”

As she spoke, the car began to drop, and before long, they were landing. They exited the car and looked around. There was no visible city, but there were the occasional car or drone overhead.

At the advent of underground buildings, other changes came with it, not the least of which was the technology that allowed excavation to be done almost entirely free. The technology was what developed into the time belt, although she had only ever made one belt. It’s very nature had allowed for the multiple belts which now existed and each one controlled only by a version of Grace.

Grace had designed the original technology to move things from place to place via wormholes. If used correctly, metal alloys could be made almost for free as well. The only charge was the device itself, of which she had only made one.

It was only the size of a large tablet and, in fact, utilized a tablet interface. The energy it controlled was immense, however. The matter removed from the excavation was sent through a wormhole into the surrounding walls, thereby increasing density immeasurably. The process rearranged molecules so the excavation walls became metal alloys that would hold up through level ten earthquakes.

With the right placement of particles, the excavator could make entire machines from the material. Building materials no longer needed to be made or cut down, and the power to run everything in the ‘buildings’ came from the same source as the excavator’s.

Almost immediately, Grace had realized that by trading off physical location with temporal location, she could move something through time, so she designed and built her time belt, something that was known to be made eventually.

Grace tied both devices to her DNA, so only she was able to utilize them. Initially, she to prevent experiments with transporting people and safely control the energies harnessed by her devices. As she incorporated the machines powered by the same source, however, things had to be done differently. Housings for inner workings were designed with no way to open them. No user-serviceable parts became a common phrase.

Grace made the excavator out of the goodness of her heart. She hoped it would remove the use for destroying the beauty of the planet and rid the world of homelessness. It did succeed in creating a utopia, but there was a dark secret. One that Grace discovered after a long while, and it completely changed her outlook and mental stability.

“What are we doing here?” asked Gregory as they entered the elevator shaft of the facility.

They started down through a very long shaft before Gracie said anything.

“There is a myth that the different facilities are different companies. That’s to dispel the idea of a monopoly.” She sighed. “The fact is, I am of the original line of Gracie. With so many different versions, it’s hard to know who I can trust.”

“Why is that?” Gregory asked.

She gave him a look that was so full of sadness that he felt like a maw would open up below him and swallow the world. “I made a discovery many years ago that changed how I viewed all of this,” she said, gesturing around herself.

Before he could ask any questions about her discovery, another Grace exited the bunker door and walked up to the car. She looked exactly like Gracie, and it was soon apparent that the two were, in fact, the same person.

Gracie moved to the bunker door and walked in. She beckoned to Gregory, and he joined her. The Gracie that had exited the bunker door got in the car, and it launched as the bunker doors closed. Gregory wondered where it was going, but he watched as Gracie opened a panel at the bottom of the elevator shaft and tapped a few buttons. There was now no way the elevator would raise unless it was her that told it to. She made her way to the room that contained the mainframe for the facility. She logged directly into the machine and altered the access to respond to her alone, then overwrote the operating system’s backups so that even a fresh installation would result in the same restrictions.

She gave one more command to the system, and power went out. A moment later, the power came back on, and the computer rebooted.

She and Gregory exited the room to find a copy of Grace running down the corridor. The other Grace skidded to a stop when she saw them and seemed to be uncertain.

“What did you do?” the copy asked.

“This facility is now under my direct control. No one can issue a command here except me.” Gracie folded her arms as if to dare the copy to defy her.

“Why?”

“It’s time we stop taking advantage of the people around this world.”

“Oh, really? Is that your only reason? What about the drain?”

Gracie’s face went white as Gregory looked on.

“The drain is a horrible thing. We need to stop it as well.” Her voice was shaky as she spoke.

“The drain?” Gregory asked.

Wordlessly, she nodded. “The belt and the machinery. Every house that I’ve built for someone pulls energy from a single star. Every piece of machinery.” She looked like she was about to cry. “It’s in a different galaxy, so there’s no real effects on us. What I didn’t count on was an inhabited planet in that star system.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It takes almost no power to create a wormhole of any kind. After all, it’s a connection between two points that is there anyway. I just have to transmit through it. A single wormhole isn’t much, but I found that if I open many to places in that star, I can bring plasma through to power things. The excavators, batteries for homes and businesses. The belts.”

“You’re bringing plasma from a star to our world to power everything here?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t that affect the mass of our planet?” Gregory was aghast.

“I send it back once it’s burned out.”

“So, in effect, we’re accelerating the burning out of someone else’s star?”

“No. We’re not accelerating it, but the power reaching those people is less.”

“How much less?”

She shook her head. “Not a lot, but several people have expressed the desire to utilize my free energy to power ships and colonize our galaxy.” She took another deep breath. “The power to accelerate a starship to high speeds – a massive ship, would be considerable. Several massive ships would be a massive drain on the star.”

Gregory thought for a bit. “What if those people realize what we’re doing? They probably won’t take a shine to it.” He paused a moment. “No pun intended.”

“I wouldn’t think they will. I’m sure they’ll notice it eventually. I’ve seen their world. They seem to have a pretty good scientific understanding.”

“Will they retaliate?”

She shrugged. “I really don’t know. I can hear them in my observations-- they do use a language, but I can’t understand them.” She seemed to consider for a moment. “I think they’re relatively peaceful. They seem to have family units that are caring toward one another.”

“They like each other, but what will they do when they find that aliens are stealing power from their star?” Gregory mused.

The other Grace smiled thinly. “The male me gets it!” She shook her head. “Only I don’t give a damn if they don’t like it. They don’t own the star. They just use it too.”

“No!” Gregory exploded! “Eventually, our use of the star might send them into an ice age, or something of the like!”

“Not my problem,” she said.

Gracie glared at her. “No, it’s mine. I created the technology. I’m stopping it. Or I will soon.”

“You bitch! We’re all a version of the same person. Who’s to say which of us is the original line? We all have just as much responsibility for the wormholes. We all own them equally! You can’t just shut them off. They’re not yours any more than the plasma is!”

Gracie got into the other’s face. “I can, and I will. You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“I most certainly do!”

“You’re locked out of everything here. I’m the only one who can control it.” She paused, then warned. “And don’t get any ideas of destroying me.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked like a multi-sided die but without any numbers or letters on it.

The other two saw the item, and both backed off. Placing the right amount of pressure on the pentacontagon would release the flowering timeline that allowed both of them to exist without causing a paradox. Only the one line, the original line, would then exist. That was the theory, anyway. Like the facility on Easter Island, and now in Winnipeg, it was keyed directly to her. No one else could activate it in any way. There was a rumor that it was a dead man switch as well. If she died, they all died.

As if to prove her power, the device started to glow.

The copy grabbed Gregory and tried to hold him like a shield. Gregory, in turn, elbowed her in the face. Her nose must have shattered as she started bleeding profusely from it.

“Don’t do anything like that again,” Gregory told her. “I don’t take kindly to being bitch handled.”

“Fifty lines are branching out of mine,” Gracie said. “If you try anything like that again, I’ll find which one is yours.”

“You’ll destroy other lines in the process,” the copy mocked her.

“But I’ll find it.”

She started walking towards the elevator. Gregory looked at the copy, raised an eyebrow, smirked, and then followed her.

Please don’t forget to comment and leave kudos!

-- Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 7

When they got to the car, Greg asked, "Isn't there any other way to get power?”

She punched in the code for their next destination, the answered. “If I knew of any, I would’ve done it long ago.”

“There are lots of ways to get power using the technology you have," he told her.

“Like what, Mr. Mensa?” she asked sarcastically.

“Just remember. I'm a copy of you too.” He grinned at her.

Sigh… “What do you have in mind?” This time she asked nicer.

“How much power does it take open a wormhole?”

“None. It's already open. Wormholes exist on a quantum level. I just find the one I want and hold it open long enough to use it. A single wormhole only gets a negligible amount of power through it, but since they exist on a quantum level, there are millions – billions in a space the size of a postage stamp, all going to where I want.”

“So wormholes always exist, from and to every where?”

She nodded. “And every when too. “

“So let's find one to somewhere else.”

“And use someone else's star?” She looked angry at the suggestion.

“No," he said. “Let's not use a star. At least, not one that has a populated world around it.”

“How do we know?”

He grinned. “We use one being pulled into a black hole.”

“If it's being pulled into a black hole, what good is it to us?” Gracie asked.

“Think about it. It's being affected by incredibly powerful gravity, so for it, time is slowed down. It will take forever for it to cross the event horizon.”

“Right. So how do we fish plasma out of it?”

He sighed. “With a wormhole.”

“If I open a wormhole to a star in the gravitational well of a black hole, anything could happen.”

You said it exists anyway, so what harm is there?”

She sighed in frustration. “You're asking me to hold it open. That's a whole different thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not, and therein lies the problem.”

He though for a moment. “What if we pulled power from it in spurts? Don’t actually hold the wormhole open, but pull power for the duration of time that it’s naturally open?”

“That’s already happening.” She giggled for a moment, then said, “Scientists looked for the answer to dark matter for years. I figured it out. It’s the effect of matter being transferred through wormholes that makes it appear as though there’s more matter than should be in any given place.” She became serious again. “Energy comes through the wormholes too.”

“If energy comes through the wormholes naturally, then why can’t you obtain it, then?”

She looked down at her hands which were in her lap, fidgeting. “I tried, but the computer has to detect the source, then pull it in.” She looked out the windscreen as they flew and said, “I had to find the signature of a star for the computer to lock onto, then extract power after it held open the wormhole.”

“Okay. Obviously, there’s power that you can detect coming from all the wormholes naturally occurring. Why can’t you just indiscriminately pull that power for use?”

“I did. That was my first idea. Detecting where the energy is coming from uses up almost all of of it. There is a surplus, however. You get some!” She laughed darkly again. “It’s almost enough energy in a cubic mile in five hours to boil a quarter teaspoon of water.”

Greg sighed. It was obvious Grace had thought things through.

He thought for a moment, then said, “Okay. We know where a suitable star is. We’re using it right now.”

“But we can’t continue using it,” she said, shaking her head.

Greg nodded and said, “I realize that. We can’t continue using it, but we can start again.”

She cocked her head, looking at him like he was completely mad. “What are you…” She stopped, realising what he was suggesting.

“How do we know they won’t be using it in the same or a similar way, then?”

“We don’t, but at least it will give us a bit of time to find something else.”

“What if we can’t find a time that we can use it without bothering them?”

“I don’t think they’ll be living in orbit around a supernova. Do you?”

Slowly, she nodded, having to acknowledge that he had good idea.

Looking at the world around them as they flew, she knew there were billions of inhabitants, but gone were the days when it looked crowded. She was able to look at it through Greg’s eyes. The Greg she had been – yesterday? What she saw was a marvel, but at what cost?

There weren’t the cities below that were producing smog. In fact, the last of the smog had disappeared nearly fifty years before. She knew from driving over a city at night, light pollution was virtually gone as well.

When a car drove, there was at least ten miles between it and any other. In theory, the computers controlling a modern car could allow it to pass within millimetres of another with the occupants barely noticing, but it wasn’t necessary. People rarely left home anymore. There wasn’t any need.

The car started its decent and she glanced over at Gregory. She wasn’t sure precisely what he was thinking, but he seemed to have a good idea. She just hoped it could be carried out.

The light in the car suddenly changed, flashing to bright red, and then back to white. Back and forth several times!

Greg had been staring out the side window, but at the first sign of strangeness, he jerked around to face her.

“What’s that!?” he barked.

“I’m not sure,” she answered. Damn! She should have put some type of easy to access interface into this car. Her office had one, but the car didn’t!

“Any guesses?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Greg,” she said as she called up a screen and began circumventing security.

Something felt strange. Like a movement where there shouldn’t be any. It was almost like a whisper at the edge of her consciousness, but it was…

She reached into her pocket and pulled the dead-man switch out. It was pulsating. Not with light, but one of the many sides was moving in and out of being, the surrounding sides rearranging to fill in the space.

She stared at it.

“What the…?” Greg gave the classic, interrupted swear.

They watched as the side vanished one more time, but didn’t reappear. The lights stopped flashing as well.

Gracie forced her eyes to move away from the device and look at Greg. She had made the thing, but had never expected it to do something like that.

“I’m assuming,” Greg said, deadpan, “that that isn’t s’posed to happen.”

“That’s a good assumption,” she answered.

“If you lost one of the sides, did you lose a line, or the ability to destroy a line?”

She glanced down at the deadman switch, and then back at Greg, almost panic striken.

“Turn around!” she ordered the car.

---

Sorry this chapter is so small after a long time.
Please don't forget to comment and leave kudos!
--Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 8

The car touched down, and both Greg and Gracie jumped out. The significance of what had happened escaped neither of them, although they were ignorant of the exact meaning.

If Gracie no longer had control of one of the lines, what would that mean? Well, her ace in the hole against the other, less benevolent versions of herself was lost. That was scary enough, but what if a line was completely gone now? Somehow, that seemed even more frightening. How could that happen? Paradox? She had never seen any indication to mean that a paradox couldn’t happen. The fact that so many different versions of herself were present, hinted that there wasn’t any rule to prohibit a paradox.

So what else was there?

They cautiously entered the main corridor of the Winnipeg facility. Did they have anything to fear? Very much Yes! If another Grace had taken control, then Gracie had no leverage. If a line had disappeared, then Gracie could too.

Very slowly, they made their way down the corridor to Grace’s office. Greg watched out for danger while Gracie opened the door. He slipped into the room and the door closed with a click, signaling that it was locked.

Sitting down at the desk, Gracie pulled up surveillance videos of the facility. Alarmingly, she couldn’t find Grace anywhere. In fact, there appeared to be noone there at all.

Backing up the videos showed little until about forty-five minutes prior. It showed Grace frustratedly walking to a corner, and rounding it. Pulling up the video that should have shown her on the other side of the corner, but it showed nothing.

She placed the videos onto a 3D projection on her desk. It made no sense! It showed her walking to the corner and disappearing around it. Literally! There was even an area where the two recordings overlapped, but she simply wasn’t on the subsequent one! How!?

Neither of the two could understand it, but it appeared that they would have to make their way to the area in question.

Wordlessly, Grace opened a case behind her, pulled out a “crossbow”, and handed it to Greg. He waited as she handed him a quiver which he slung over his shoulder.

He pulled a bolt from the bag, cocked the weapon and slipped the bolt into place.

Calling it a crossbow was a misnomer, but it was more accurate than a firearm. It used a bolt like a crossbow, but the string was a magnetic pull created electronically when the trigger was squeezed.

As cautiously as before, the two exited the office and made their way down the corridor. When they reached the corner where the other Grace had disappeared, they stopped. Neither wanted to proceed around the corner.

But they knew they had to, so they both flattened themselves against the left wall to build their courage. Greg suddenly realised that he had something that might at least offer some kind of idea what was around the corner. He reached into the quiver and found an arrow with a wider head on it. It was nicely polished, and relatively flat, so he thought he might be able to use it as a crude mirror.

Without a word, he eased by Gracie, who was closer to the corner, and carefully pushed the arrowhead out into the intersection where it might reflect something. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he saw in the cross corridor. There was something there, but before he could define it, the arrowhead simply wasn’t there anymore, as was the shaft that would’ve been visible around the corner.

Greg heard a gasp from Gracie, and found his eyes widening in disbelief. How did that happen? He brought the shaft up where he could get a closer look at it, and found that it was as if something had simply cut it off. The line where it stopped being was crisp and clean.

It took all his courage to turn his head away from the cross corridor to look at Gracie, and he quickly told her, “Whatever it is, knows we’re here, so…”

He turned back and tossed the remainder of the arrow into the intersection. It disappeared faster now, and before it even touched the floor, it was gone.

Now what? He thought.

“You right,” murmured Gracie. “It knows we’re here, but what is it?”

“The only way we’ll know is if we step around that corner.”

“That apparently wiped out Grace’s line,” Gracie objected.

“Apparently,” Greg said.

“But you don’t agree?”

“No,” he told her. “I agree, or at least I think I do.”

“How did it not?”

“What if she didn’t take control, but something, or someone else did?” he wondered. “What if whatever, or whoever is around this corner removed her line from your control?”

Gracie shook her head. “So many questions, but no answers.”

“One way to get the answer,” Greg commented.

“Uh… That doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Gracie argued.

“Look, Sister-Mine. If I step out there, you’ll know whether it’s a good idea or not.”

“Uh, no!”

He shook his head. “Too late.”

She made grab for him, and her hand grazed his shirt, but he was moving too quickly for her to get a grip. “Greg!” she screamed as he entered the intersection and turned to face whatever it was.

-=#=-

Gracie wasn’t a coward, but she turned the other way bacause she didn’t want to see her friend – her brother, or other self – whatever you wanted to call him, disappear. She heard nothing, but that was to be expected. The tears started as she realized the one friend she seemed to have – the self that was on her side and wanted to help her – was gone.

She took a deep breath and turned around. She wasn’t sure what she could do, under the circumstances, but she needed to face this problem, so to speak. Greg had tried to face it and…

She stared. Greg was still there. Not in the normal sense of the word, and maybe it wasn’t him at all. It seemed like an after image of him was fading in and out of sight. She wasn’t sure if it was really him and not just an image until she saw that he was moving. Apparently talking to someone. So he was alive! She was frightened beyond belief, but needed to get to him. Maybe he needed help!

Gathering all of her courage together, she stepped forward before she could change her mind.

She could still see the corridor around her, but it seemed as if she was somewhere else as well.

“ANOTHER!” a voice boomed. “YOU SAID THERE WOULD BE NO OTHERS!”

“No!” It was Greg. “She’s alright! She’s with me!”

“HOW CAN WE BELIEVE YOU?”

“I’m being honest!”

“Greg?” Gracie asked. She had turned to face where the voice was coming from, but she could see nothing. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “But apparently it’s not very happy with us.”

Suddenly, there was movement and a figure came into view. As Gracie saw it, she gasped and her blood ran cold.

---

Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments!
--Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

---

Author’s Note: This chapter is rated as having violence, although there is no violence described as happening in the narration -- rather, the aftermath.

The Letters Chapter 9

The thing stepped into view. It seemed partially transparent, and Gracie had to stare to see it properly. It was a kind of amorphous blob, that seemed to move like a cell. In fact to say it appeared to be a giant leukocyte would not be wrong as there seemed to be several dark gray spots inside it, not unlike seeing a white blood cell under a microscope, although this thing seemed to be nearly twelve feet in diameter.

The spots slowly faded, except for one larger spot in the center, which almost seemed focus on her like an eye.

“YOU ARE GRACE!” came the booming voice again. “SO WAS THE CREATURE I CONSUMED/STUDIED/QUESTIONED.”

“Which was it?” Greg asked. “Consumed, studied, or questioned?”

“ALL,” the creature answered, the central ‘eye’ seeming to focus on him.

“Well, that explains why your dead-man switch seemed to lose her,” Greg said quietly to Gracie.

“Yes,” Gracie said. She wanted to say more, but couldn’t. She knew what this monster was, and why it was there. Why it had – taken? – them. As she heard it’s declaration, she involuntarily shook. She had been determined to end that twisted line herself, but the thought of a version of herself being ingested… engulfed by this enormous cell – frightened her beyond imagination. If she ever got out of this place, she vowed to try to work with her other lines. Not against them.

But getting back from wherever she was just didn’t seem likely anymore.

The thing seemed to focus once again on Gracie, and she decided that whatever the gray thing was, it functioned as an eye.

“MY EXAMINATION OF THE OTHER GRACE’S BRAIN/THOUGHTS/SYNAPSES SHOW THAT YOU CAUSED THE DRAIN.”

“You mean this is one of the inhabitants of that planet?” Greg asked her incredulously.

“Yes,” Gracie said.

“IS YOUR ANSWER TO ME OR TO GREG?” it asked.

Gracie seemed too frightened to answer, so Greg took a step forward. “You will not consume her.”

“YOU WILL STOP ME?” It seemed amused.

“Maybe not, but I will certainly try.”

“YOU ARE WEAK/INFERIOR/INCAPABLE.”

“I am willing to try.”

Suddenly, the creature started moved forward by flowing like an amoeba, all the while, somehow, keeping it’s ‘eye’ focused on them. Gracie grabbed Greg’s arm and stepped backwards, but he shook her hand away and remained in place.

The thing made some kind of rumbling sound, then said in a much softer ‘voice’ “You are amusing/brave/determined, Greg. You have no chance, but you remain/stand firm, facing me.”

“You will have to go through me to get to her.”

“One would think you have some kind of love/romantic/erotic feelings for her, yet she is you and you are her.”

Greg decided to change the subject. “Why do you give synonyms for certain words?”

Again the creature made the rumbling sound. “You think I am speaking, don’t you? In fact, my thoughts are moved/transmitted/transferred to your mind. That is the way my culture/people/race ‘talk’.” It rumbled again, and then, sounding amused said, “Thoughts are probably the wrong/incorrect ‘words’ to use. You misunderstand my meaning/reference/definition.” It seemed to consider, then said, “In fact, there is no real meaning/reference/definition to what you are receiving. Possibly thought would be better described as thought/feeling/emotion.” It rumbled again.

“You’re laughing at us,” Greg accused. “Why?”

The rumbling grew in intensity. “Because you are so weak, and you haven’t realized that since I have absorbed the other/first Gracie’s thoughts/brain/synapses, I understand you more/better/greater than you do.”

Grace took a faltering step forward, and said to the creature/thing/amoeba/alien, “Then you know that I want to stop the drain.”

“Yes, I do.” It then explained, “You transmit/move/send your thoughts to me as I do to you. Your definition does not contain person. Why?”

“I don’t know what you call yourself,” she said defensively.

“Yet you know that I am a person. Your bravery/determination is showing in your mind now. You are conversing not out of fear/weakness/inferiority now.”

“You could have consumed/engulfed/eaten us by now, if you wished.”

It rumbled. “So I could.” Suddenly it became serious and the rumbling stopped. “I will allow you to stop the drain/stealing of our sun/energy/power. According to the other Grace’s thoughts/brain, you will need to convince/compel/force the others like her to stop it as well.”

“Yes.”

“Then I give you one of your weeks/time periods to do just that.”

“Or?” asked Greg.

“Simple. I consume/eat/ingest you.”

-=#=-

Suddenly, the two were in the intersection with no sign that they had ever been away.

“How did that happen?” Greg asked. “I mean – I’m assuming you just saw and heard what I did.” It wasn’t really a statement. More a question.

“I have no idea. Unless that person has the ability to move through the wormholes and manifest itself here.”

She noticed that Greg wasn’t looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, and for a moment she thought he might be seeing the thing again – until she looked down the hall. Ahead, lying on the floor was the other Gracie.

Greg was a peculiar shade of green, and she thought she might lose the last of the food she had eaten at Denny’s that morning. Morning? Had it really only been that short time ago? She wished she could just go back to being the young Greg with no knowledge of what was now happening, but it was no longer possible. She suddenly realized that she would never want to become Greg again. Grace was who she was. Grace was who she had always been. The knowledge of the creature and the drain was what she wished she could lose. She would happily give that up.

The two stepped forward to look at their sister. Looking down at her, it was apparent that she was dead. It looked like she’d been stabbed over and over. Not far down the hall was a crossbow like the one that was still in Greg’s hand. The marks all over her body appeared to be caused by a bolt, but where was it? Her right arm seemed undamaged, but the rest of her body, except her head was riddled with wounds. Her face was turned away from them, so reluctantly, Greg reached down and turned her head.

They found the crossbow bolt.

---

Okay. This is likely a different flavor than people expected from this story. I'm very curious what people think of this now, so please don't forget to leave kudos, and if not them, comments.

--Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

---

Author’s Note: This chapter is very short, but it describes what happened to Grace's and Greg's 'sister', the dead version of Grace.

The Letters Chapter 10

The two made their way back to the office, and Greg had barely made it inside before he stopped to stare at the video still playing there. Gracie had followed him in, and when she saw the desk, she stopped too. There, in the 3D projection, was the sight they’d seen just a few moments before. Grace was lying on the floor in the position they’d left her in.

Gracie sat back down at the desk, letting frustration take her. She hit the desk several times, and as she did, her hand hit the rewind control, and the scene backed up, reversing one second per second. After a moment, she saw her and Greg walking backwards as the recording played in reverse. She watched as they knelt beside her other self and viewed her injuries, then they stood and walked backwards down the hall. A moment later, they stopped moving, and started talking, animatedly waving their arms, as they argued in reverse.

Fascinated, they both watched their conversation rewind, but with them simply standing in the hall. It was obvious that they were talking to the blob, but it wasn’t there. Was this how it really happened? Or was this something that was placed on the recording? She watched as she stepped around the corner, followed by Greg. She started to reach toward the button to play it forward, but she saw that Grace was still visible in the corridor. She wanted to see where she would disappear to, but it didn’t happen. A few minutes later, she saw a horrifying sight.

The crossbow suddenly moved to Grace’s hand, and her body flopped up into a kneeling position and her eyes opened. Her face was wracked with pain as the bolt pulled out of her face and returned to the bow, which cocked as her hand released its pressure on the trigger. Her hand shakily set the crossbow on the floor and lifted the bolt out of it, then started plunging it into her body, over and over and over.

In horror, Gracie sat, unable to tear her eyes away from her ‘sister’ inflicting injury after injury on her body. After a few moments, she laid herself down on the floor, obviously climbing to her knees had the recording been playing forward. She then lay there for a few moments, the blood surrounding her, pulling back into her body. Suddenly, her body seemed to elevate into a standing position and she began plunging the bolt into her body over and over again for a second time, in reality, the first..

Each plunge was rewarded with a spray of blood pulling back into her body until she picked up the crossbow and put the bolt back in its place and it was ready to fire again. She lowered the weapon to her side and began talking in reverse. A few moments later, she walked backward around the corner, and Gracie and Greg watched the scene they had witnessed before meeting the creature, played in reverse.

Greg slowly reached out and switched off the recording and they both simply stared at the desk.

“Why can we see it now?” Greg asked.

Gracie simply shook her head. She had no idea why. She reached forward and started the recording playing forward. A moment later, they watched Grace walk around the corner and suddenly stop. She had looked around and suddenly stopped, staring forward. She seemed to hear something, then started arguing, claiming that she wasn’t the one.

She was apparently losing the argument, however and then she raised the weapon. As if in a trance, she took the bolt out of its slot and then set the weapon on the ground. She stood up and began methodically plunging the bolt into her body. Never once did she seem to exit the trance, but after she raised herself into a kneeling position, it was obvious that she was in terrible pain.

She raised the crossbow again, and Greg reached out and stopped the playback. He had no desire to watch the final act of his ‘sister’s’ life, again. As it was, when Gracie looked up at him, his face was completely white.

“Sit down,” she told him, gently. He made no argument, and did as she said. Even after he sat down, he was decidedly green and he swayed for a couple of minutes. It was clear the incident had hit him hard.

Grace looked at Greg again, and his face was ashen yet again. In contrast to his red-rimmed eyes. She looked back at the desk and manipulated a couple of controls. A moment later, she removed a card from a slot and pocketed it.

She moved around the desk and asked Greg, “Are you gonna be okay?”

He looked up at her blankly, and she wondered why he was taking the situation so hard. The particular Grace was one of the worst there was. “Can you come with me? There’s nothing left here.”

He didn’t move, as she walked to the door. She left the room and went to the lift, and when the door opened, she was rather surprised to find her male self had joined her.

He didn’t talk as they moved upward in the lift, and she didn’t push him. There was grief in her mind also, but she was able to move it out of her focus. She hoped he’d find the strength to do the same thing.

The flight was quiet until she finally asked, “What are you thinking?”

He didn’t respond for awhile, and she thought he was going to simply ignore her. Or maybe he hadn’t even heard? Finally, however, he said, “I’m really not sure. I’m trying to keep what we saw out of my mind. I’m not having much luck though.” He took a deep breath, then continued. “Even though that Gracie wasn’t a great representative, she was one of us, and look what that thing did to her.”

“So you think the alien is responsible for what happened?”

“Don’t you?” He stared at her in wonder. How could she even doubt it?

She thought for a moment. “I sure don’t see any other explanation. She was an unhinged version of us, but she wouldn’t do that to herself.”

Again, he didn’t respond. In fact, she could see that he was clenching his teeth, as if he was trying to keep from responding.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said forcefully. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” she responded slowly, wondering what was bothering him. His reaction seemed like it was more than she was dealing with.

He had a vague notion that she said something else, but what it was, he couldn’t say. His mind was whirling. What had happened to his ‘sister’ was horrible, and he was sure he felt it more than anyone else could have.

---

Please don't forget to leave comments, good or bad. (well, hopefully good, but I'm not counting on that with this chapter). Leave kudos too!
--Rosemary

Thanks Malady! You're a great help!

I know it's been a while since I've updated The Letters, and I do apologize.

Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about the letters, themselves.

---

Chapter 11

“We should go to London,” Grace said after a while.

Greg didn’t move, but said, “We’re descending right now. We’re almost there.”

Grace sighed and turned to look at him. “Look. I know it was tough seeing what happened to Gracie, but we’ve got a job to do here.”

Finally, Greg looked around at the surrounding land. Buckingham Palace was still there, as was Big Ben and Trafalgar Square. He had never seen any of the places, but wasn’t sure he wanted to now. His mind kept showing him what had happened to Gracie. His Gracie.

Some might consider it wrong, but they had a special relationship.

Almost as if reading his mind, Grace spoke. “I know you had something going on, and that’s your business. Not mine. I suppose it’s easier having a relationship with someone you know as intimately as you do yourself.” She didn’t say anything for a few moments as tears threatened to erupt out of Greg’s eyes.

“The thing is,” she finally continued, “we’ve got something to do. Something with clear consequences if we don’t do it.” Again she went silent as the car touched down.

She swung to face him, and the words erupted out of her. “If we don’t deal with this now, lots more of us will die. All of us will die. I need your help keeping that from happening.”

She opened the door and got out of the car. Glancing around, she saw him still sitting motionless. Shaking her head, she shut the door and headed for the elevator.

Greg didn’t move till she was going through the elevator doors, then he shoved the car door open hard, got out, slammed the door as hard as he could, and stormed toward the elevator to join his older self.

Grace observed Greg out of the corner of her eye as they dropped into the ground. She restrained herself from commenting on his temper, but wasn’t surprised in the least. She could easily explode, but had worked hard to keep her temper restrained. But she would need to show him that she had the situation in her control.

“Per my order, lockout the facility to all but me,” Grace told the computer through the elevator microphones.

“Facility locked,” it responded.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She didn’t even wait to see if anyone was around. She just moved forcefully ahead, intent on going right over anyone in front of her.

She made the turn into the office as the doors were still moving out of her way, and came to a stop right in front of the desk.

“Yes?” Gracie said, looking up with an amused expression on her face. “Are you the one who’s locked my facility?”

“I am,” Grace told her.

“Then I am going to demand that you unlock it right now.”

“No,” said Grace, and in that single word, her authority over the entire number of Graces and Gregs was felt.

It wasn’t lost on Gracie. She sighed heavily and the humor washed out of her all at once.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because of my experience with you and the rest of my sisters.”

“What about him?” she asked, indicating Greg with a flip of her wrist.

“He doesn’t control a facility.”

“That makes all the difference, does it?”

Grace sighed and handed over the recording of what happened to the previous Gracie. “Watch this,” she commanded.

“Will it self-destruct?”

Greg was getting more and more pissed with the byplay. “This isn’t Mission Impossible,” he said angrily. “Just watch the damned thing. We don’t have time for this.”

Gracie put the recording into her desk, and the scene started playing in the air above her desk. Greg turned away.

Gracie was confused. “There are many of us, but I’ve never seen any do this. Why, and how would she do such a thing?”

“She was influenced by one of the people from where we draw our power.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“We turn off our power. We stop drawing energy from the star.”

“And that will keep this from happening to any more of us?”

Grace sighed. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

“And you believe the person?”

“Should I not?”

Gracie shook her head. “You tell me. I’ve only seen them, but not talked to them.”

“We don’t know.” It was the first time Greg had said anything since Gracie started playing the video.

“So I turn off my power simply to placate a being who may or may not fulfill its part of the bargain?”

“If we don’t, it will kill us all.”

“So it says,” Gracie stated, flatly.

“Do you want to take that chance?” Greg asked.

“I want more evidence.”

“We don’t have time!” Greg exploded.

“Do you know what would happen to the human race if we cut off our power?”

“Should I care?”

“You’re one of us!” Gracie shouted at him.

She turned her chair a bit so she could reach some controls and touched a button. Another hologram came into being above her desk, and she reached up, putting her hands together, then spread them apart. The view zoomed in, and it filled the room.

In front of them was a star, filling their view in all directions. They were close enough that they could see the roiling surface. In front of him, Greg could sense the heat from the star, or thought he could. Perhaps it was simply his imagination. He wasn’t sure.

“Turn down the energy transfer,” he heard Grace say.

“No,” Gracie responded. “I want to hear it.” The energy transfer was filling their ears with a horrible noise.

“What?” Greg asked.

“What are you talking about?” Grace asked.

“Just what I said,” Gracie said. “I’ve heard it before.”