Chapter 20
Lyle put his head back and fell asleep. It reminded me, in a bizarre and slanting way, of when he was a baby, how he switched off as soon as we laid him in the crib. In this, he’d a made a complete circle in his life.
I walked, dazed, and opened his bedroom door.
Stepped in. Looked around the room until I found the wall clock.
I slid it aside, found the keypad, and punched in the MMDDYYYY of my birthday.
There was a hissing noise, and the wall next to his bed popped open.
Another door. I stepped into a workroom and the door shut behind me.
The moment it closed, the lights came on and Lyle’s voice came over a speaker in the wall.
“Dad. According to my own estimates and the prognosis from my medical support machinery, I have months, at most, to live. It is my greatest fear I will expire before you arrive and before I can complete the Device. If that is the case, I am sorry. I held out against the end for as long as I could, if only to see you one last time. I’ve left this message as a hedge against the possibility I will die before you arrive.
I have so much I could tell you, so much to explain about the last forty-five years, but I must limit myself to those things you need to know to survive. ”
I closed my eyes.
“I cannot predict what you will see, what you will experience, if we can’t stop the transits.
Should it happen, your next jump will cover nearly ninety years, a length of time roughly equivalent to the span of my entire living memory.
The world has changed so much in the last ninety years I cannot even guess what it will be like in ninety more.
But I can see what has not changed, and project from there to what I expect will remain the same.
Namely: violence and anguish, greed and heartbreak.
Bearing these hard truths in mind and given the unknown efficacy of the mechanisms involved in my attempt to disrupt your time transits—after all, you are the only test subject—I’ve fashioned you these gifts.
Before you are the materials I managed to buy, steal, or manufacture for you over the last few decades.
Use them. If you continue forward, they may be the most technologically advanced items on the face of the planet, or they may be pieces of junk a century out of date.
Neither would surprise me, because the course of human history can no longer shock me. In any case, they’ll help protect you.”
His recorded voice stopped. I took a steadying breath.
The small workroom was lined with wire shelves and cages of equipment.
And guns. In the middle of the room was a glass case.
Inside was what looked like a wet suit: black, shriveled, and hanging, but in the shape of a man, with arms and legs.
I stood and peered at it for a long moment, conscious of my own haggard appearance reflected in the glass.
I’d showered and shaved at Lyle’s cabin in the morning before my jump.
Forty-five years ago. But since then, I’d been shot, participated in my first gun battle, and puked.
And I still felt hungover from the beer and Scotch. I didn’t look great.
On impulse, I stepped closer, and Lyle’s recorded voice again came through the speaker.
“Inside this case is a cylindrical-fullerene-weave armored skinsuit with a computerized matrix sewn into the interior layers. You can think of it as a skintight, diamond-threaded armor, one of a kind, highly resistant to damage, both kinetic and penetrating, with environmental compensatory characteristics. Included in the case is an earpiece, which is linked to the computer in the skinsuit. Both are powered by batteries with an operable lifespan of approximately fifty years. To the right of the case, on the wall, is the exoskeleton portion. Wear the skinsuit directly over your skin, and the exoskeleton portion on top of that. The exoskeleton will augment your strength and speed and provide further protection from impacts. There is a helmet with a full sensor suite that links to the skinsuit on top of the exoskeleton.”
I stared at the exoskeleton, which looked like industrial machinery crossed with an insect.
“There is, as well,” Lyle’s voice said, “an electromag pulse machine pistol in the case by the exoskeleton. It fires armor-piercing explosive five-millimeter darts at twenty darts per second. I’ve included several two-hundred-dart self-dispensing ammo cartridges.
The operation is very similar to the SD-4 pistol I gave you before your last jump.
Use them both. There are additional magazines for your SD-4 as well, again loaded with alternating explosive and armor-piercing rounds. ”
The recorded voice made me uncomfortable, off-balance. Lyle had been planning to give me these items for years, even decades. He may have recorded these instructions long ago. His voice was clear and strong, capable, with no hint of a cough or rasp.
I rubbed my eyes. Then, because it was what Lyle wanted, I started taking off the body armor Lyle had given me forty-five years earlier.
The skinsuit went on like a tight glove.
I pulled it on as though it was a wet suit, and when I shrugged into the arms it surprised me by constricting, tightening across the entire surface of my skin from my toes to the tips of my fingers and all the way to the base of my jawline.
For a moment I panicked as I imagined the suit crushing me like a boa constrictor.
Then it beeped and relaxed. Not entirely, but enough to allow me unrestricted movement. A second skin.
A robotic voice spoke from a hidden speaker somewhere on the chest of the skinsuit, making me jump.
“Skinsuit uplink established. Diagnostics performed: power levels, one hundred percent; computational capacity, one hundred percent; wearer protection, forty percent. Please don exoskeleton segment, earpiece, and helmet to achieve one hundred percent operational capacity and protective ability.”
I slipped the earpiece into my ear. It beeped. Then: “Testing.” This voice felt more familiar, more human. It came across as a woman’s voice, clear-spoken and with a hint of an English accent. “Volume?”
“Um. Fine?”
“Calibrating. Thank you. Welcome to your new Mark 7C Personal Defense and Strength Augmentation System. You may refer to me as Suit or give me another name. What may I call you?”
“Scott. Call me Scott.”
“Pleased to meet you, Scott. Would you like to run through the standard systems calibration setup to give your Personal Defense and Strength Augmentation System its full operational effectiveness?”
“Can we do that later?”
“Certainly. It is, however, strongly recommended we perform the systems calibration setup before engaging in combat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
“It is also recommended you immediately don the Mark 7C exoskeleton segment of your Personal Defense and Strength Augmentation System, including the provided PDSAS Mark 5A helmet.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
The exoskeleton was easy to put on. It unfolded for me when the skinsuit sent it a signal, a metallic origami statue spreading neatly apart.
Obeying the skinsuit’s patient instructions, I stepped backward into the open exoskeleton.
It folded itself around me, linking back up and forming a flexible grid of metal lines across my chest, stomach, shoulders, arms, legs, and back.
The grid even ran down my fingers, and when I held up my arm and clenched my fist, I could feel the additional strength conveyed by the exoskeleton.
The skinsuit computer calibrated the exoskeleton by having me do high steps in place while I waved my arms back and forth.
If the computer had a sense of humor, it was secretly laughing at me as I went through the motions.
It pronounced the exoskeleton ready and asked me to put on the helmet.
I set the sleek, jet-black, military-style thing over my head and was plunged into darkness.
A half second later the faceplate adjusted itself in front of my eyes, providing a crystal clear view.
“Your PDSAS Mark 7C includes several advancements in survival and combat effectiveness since the previous iteration of the system. Would you like to see a demo or walk through a virtual scenario designed to illustrate these enhancements?”
“No, I’m done for now. Let me out of the exoskeleton.” I pulled off the helmet.
“Are you sure? As your PDSAS, it is incumbent on me to remind you your physical safety may be compromised by removing the exoskeleton segment. The exoskeleton helps protect you from bodily perforation due to enemy gunfire and—”
“Jesus. I’ll keep that in mind, ah, ‘Suit,’ but let me out for now, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
The exoskeleton unfurled itself from around me. I stepped out of the metal embrace and let out a breath. I started to pull off the skinsuit as well.
“Sir, the skinsuit portion of your PDSAS may remain in place under your regular garments.”
“That’s okay. Let me—”
“It is by order of this PDSAS’s Commanding Entity that the skinsuit remain on your person at all possible times.”
“Commanding Entity?”
“In this case, Lyle Treder.”
“Fine.” I pulled my old clothes on over the skinsuit and stood for an awkward moment, contemplating whether to pull out the little earpiece. I left it in and walked out of the workroom, leaving the exoskeleton standing there like an abstract metal art piece.
Lyle was still asleep when I got back to the main room.
I found a more comfortable-looking recliner near the fake fireplace and dragged it over to Lyle’s central medical chair.
Then I fell into the thick cushions. I hadn’t slept well in days.
I’d barely slept at Lyle’s cabin. How could I sleep?
How could anyone? But I couldn’t resist it forever.
It took me down before I realized it.
Lyle’s voice woke me. “Dad.”