be
there long. His eyes trace up the trunks around us, maybe working out which ones
he can climb.
‘So.’ Mason rubs his hands together. ‘You were born in 2024, but you don’t look any
older than …’ One eyebrow lifts as his he scans my face.
‘Fourteen,’ I say honestly. There were so many long gaps in the woman’s history map
that she’d only have aged about three years since the start of the ration system.
Unless they saw her in person there’s no way they could know she was older than me.
‘It must be so weird,’ Mason says, eyes still on me. ‘How much the world has changed.’
We’re all quiet before he continues.
‘Is there anything you want to know? About, you know, how everything works these
days?’
‘No, Miya is helping me.’ I sit a bit straighter, acting sort of annoyed and proud.
‘Listen. I’ll help you if I can, but don’t expect me to tell you my life story okay?’
‘Okay, okay.’ Mason’s hands go up. ‘Whatever you say. I just want some help with
time skipping.’ His hands drop as I nod in agreement. ‘Each time you disappear on
the grid, you’re re-orienting in time, yes? That’s why you return to the same location.’
‘That’s how it seems.’ I glance at Boc, who’s sitting quietly, and then back to Mason.
‘So how do you make it happen? Do you meditate?’
‘Sort of, ah …’ I don’t have to know what I’m talking about, but I do have to be
convincing. A deliberate nod. ‘Yes.’
‘So is it like your time just sort of stops?’ They both look at me and wait. Mason
even has his hands clasped together. I get the feeling that I could make out that
I was born on the moon and they wouldn’t blink.
‘Well, I don’t think of it as time stopping, exactly,’ I say. ‘It’s more like I’m
ignoring every other time except now .’
‘Yes, yes.’ Mason leans forwards. He’s so desperate for answers that he doesn’t realise
I’m just repeating stuff I read on one of the Relative Time Theory sites.
I swivel my legs around and kneel with my feet tucked under me. It’s one of the poses
for meditation I’ve seen described on the time travel sites.
‘How about if you explain the process you go through?’ I say. ‘Take me through, step-by-step.’
Mason matches my pose. ‘All right. So, it’s as if I’m sinking, right? And I can feel
… it’s hard to explain … like my brain is slowing.’ He has this really quiet way
of speaking and I find myself leaning forwards to meet every word.
‘And it’s almost as if I’m outside of time,’ Mason keeps going. ‘Like I’m observing
it … but then –’ He trails off and glances at Boc.
‘But then … what?’
Mason’s reply is a shake of his head.
Boc’s head tips back as he studies the tops of the trees. ‘Have you tried?’ I say
to him.
Slowly Boc’s chin drops as he considers what to say. ‘Meditation wasn’t exactly
on my radar before this. So I had to come from behind.’ He glances at Mason and then
hitches himself around to sit facing him with his shoulders square. ‘But I’m catching
up. Getting better every day. You’ll see, I’ll get there before you know it.’ His
tone is defiant, almost challenging.
Mason shuffles closer to me on his knees. ‘The thing I don’t understand is how did
you know it was first possible?’
I shake my head slowly. ‘I don’t know. It was just a feeling, I guess. It just …
happened.’ They’re both quiet, waiting expectantly, and all I can think of is that
woman who died. She’s not far from where we are now, alone in the cave.
‘I guess I was just trying to survive,’ I say quietly.
‘Hey, yeah.’ This time it’s Boc who reacts, pacing forwards on his knees as he pulls
out his compad. ‘There was that snap hailstorm a couple of years back. You jumped
right in the middle of it. And then the time before, there was that massive dust
cloud. I looked it up.’
My mouth opens and I clamp it shut, glad that the other two are
John O'Riley
Jill Gregory
Celya Bowers
Aria Cunningham
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Christopher George
Learning to Kill: Stories
Brenda Sinclair
Karl Iagnemma
C. J. Cherryh