This week’s teaser continues the chapter “Time Without Time” from my novel Outcasts of Gideon. In part one, which you can find here, Dawn and Quinton prepare for their pending transit of “the empty.” In this part, Dawn finds herself stuck again. I hope you enjoy it.
Time Without Time (Part 2)
When the braking burn ended, Dawn looked over to Quinton. He seemed okay. One G probably wasn’t too much of a strain on the old man, though he’d lived with much less for a long time.
Dawn unstrapped herself and pushed away from the berth. As she did, the Captain’s voice came across the ship’s comm. “We have requested diplomatic priority for the system McAfee. Once granted, we will be in line to cross. For that reason, all crew and passengers must be prepared for engines to fire shortly after we emerge.”
“Diplomatic priority? What do you suppose she means by that?” asked Dawn.
Quinton swung his legs over the side of his berth and adjusted his restraints. “I can only assume it has to do with the doctor,” he said.
Dawn propelled herself toward the monitor across the room. It displayed system activity. She flipped through screens, settling on the McAfee queue. There she found a list of several ships waiting to cross. The Gakuto was not on that list. “Dr. Daris?”
“The name was familiar to me,” said Quinton. “A political family with a long history in this system.”
“How did we get so lucky?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
As she watched, the queue priority was updated. The Gakuto had been added to the front of the list.
Dawn felt the tug of the thrusters. It was barely enough to push her toward the floor. The Captain’s voice returned over the comm. “We have received authority for immediate transit. All crew and passengers prepare for acceleration upon passage. We are beginning our approach.”
She turned, pushing herself back toward the berth. As she reached to slow herself, she felt Quinton’s hand grab her shoulder. She turned around to find his tall frame hovering over her.
His voice was thin, almost childlike. “Will you meet anyone there?”
“Where?”
“Wherever it is you go?”
“We’re going to Earth. You’re going with us.”
“No, I mean in the empty.”
Dawn grabbed him by the wrist and turned him around. “You should get back to your berth.”
“Can you ask about my friend? Can you ask about Abhishek?”
“Yes. Yes, I can, if I meet anyone there.” She pulled the straps around him. He fumbled with the buckle. She gently pushed his hands aside and secured the strap.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know what came over me. Seeing Kishan again.”
“It's okay.”
She turned to reach for her berth. Her hand found nothing, flailing before her. Her eyes darted about, but she found nothing to anchor them. What was once a small living area was now gray darkness. She had somehow missed the passing of the Tempinetic field. Without warning, she was stuck in the empty.
Eyes are necessary for sight, but does that apply here? The thought jumped into her mind. Dawn didn’t know the answer. Her last visit to this place seemed so long ago. Was she seeing with her eyes? Was she seeing at all? Could her physical body exist in a place without time? It didn't seem possible. All the same, she saw no way to exist without existing. Was she only consciousness here? Was she here at all?
Her eyes scanned down to where her torso would be, should be. There she found nothing. She held her hands out before her face. The same emptiness greeted her. Perhaps she didn’t exist here, at least not physically. How could this be true?
But she did exist, at least if Descartes had anything to say about it. She was aware, conscious, frightened, and still searching for something that made sense. Her thoughts continued their rapid, unceasing progression. This was despite the paradox that time did not exist here. How could she be thinking without time? Can time be both absent and endless?
Were these the same thoughts she’d had the first time? I’ve been here before.
She let out a breath. It lacked sound, though she heard it nonetheless. It swept through her and from her, a faint whisper of life tickling her ears. The mere thought of air traveling without traversing time brought her back to wonder. The breath itself seemed to last a lifetime. The more she thought about it, the more impatient she became for its finality. How could she possibly exhale for so long? What were her lungs to do?
She wondered what life would be like without the most basic functions of the body. The beating of the heart. Expansion of the lungs. Yet here, there could be no oxygen, no means of sustaining her. This did not keep her from hearing her breath or feeling the beat of her heart. Nor did it keep these regular events from being both brief and endless. I must need more than one heartbeat in a lifetime, she thought.
Fear discovered her. She became singularly conscious of this as a final visit, an eternal one. She thought again about the stories of those who never came back. They were permanent residents of the empty. She wondered if they had discovered what she had, a place without place, a time both endless and absent.
There are moments of contemplation for any person. These can arise under many different circumstances. She found herself awash in these moments. They presented contradictory solutions, overwhelming her ability to manage them. They were like a host of shapeless creatures ebbing and cresting and swirling in her mind.
Then there was silence.
There had always been silence. The thought that she’d heard her breath was little more than a thought, a belief. The subtle thud of her heart was mere fantasy. Even the idea of sound in a soundless place was absurd. Even the thought of absurdity was ridiculous, for thought inescapably required time.
“Dewey,” she heard herself say. The name fell soundlessly from her nonexistent lips. And she knew, remembered, speculated that Dewey held the key. Maybe not the key, but at least the means of bringing her back. How long would he wait to rescue her this time? It already seemed too long.
What was it Quinton had asked her? Would she meet someone? If she did, would she know them? What if she met Kishan's father? How would she know who he was? What if I met Creature? That hadn’t occurred to her before. Maybe it had. Perhaps that's why she returned. What if I could find Creature? Could I save him? Could Dewey?
Of course, Creature was long dead. Even if he were here, no one could bring him back. That would be the same for Kishan’s father.
The thought evaporated into the same gray space from which it came. Only it wasn’t just a gray darkness. If I can see gray, then there has to be light, she thought.