The Other by Marilyn Peake Read online

  I did what he suggested and found the water to be cool. It made me feel alive, helped further my recovery from the trip.

  Waylon said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live near something like this back home? We’re totally cut off from the rest of the world at the TTA.”

  I commented, “The rest of the world is dying, though. We’d never find anything like this. It no longer exists.”

  Waylon said, “We should enjoy it while we’re here. We should go swimming tonight.”

  I agreed. That would be wonderful. I looked around. We were totally isolated, other than the birds and fish and insects.

  At that moment, a deer stepped out of the woods. I’d only ever seen this beast in pictures. In our time period, they were extinct. This was a buck—tall with a majestic set of antlers. He pointed his snout in our direction, no doubt sniffing our body odor on the wind. We must have smelled different than all the other humans he’d ever come across. Did he wonder what we were? He looked directly at us, taking us in. We stared back. Then he turned and leapt over some branches, disappearing into the woods.

  Waylon laughed. “That was incredible! We’re going to be able to see so many things from the past, things that no longer exist. I wonder how far back we can go. Wouldn’t it be amazing to go back to the point in time when Earth first came into existence?”

  I said, “I wonder if there’s a beginning to time and an instance before that. What would that be like—to go back to the very moment before time came into existence?”

  Waylon thought about that for a second, then said, “I’d bet it would be dangerous crossing over into that realm. I’m guessing we’d be leaving the entire fabric of space-time. There’d be the risk of disappearing into nothingness. Although chances are our current ships wouldn’t even be able to go there because there wouldn’t be any space-time coordinates to fold together in the period before time.”

  I said, “If we’re thinking about this, so is the TTA. You know they’ll try to send a team there eventually.”

  Waylon said, “I’d volunteer to go. That would be the ultimate learning experience.”

  I joked, “Well, it might be your last learning experience before you turned into the time traveler who never existed.”

  Waylon laughed. “No. If that happens, I want to be called The Time Traveler Who Stepped Out of Time, not the one that never existed.”

  I said, “I’ll make sure that goes on your plaque in the TTA Memorial Building.”

  We decided we’d better get going. We brought maps up on our contact lenses, showing us the way to the place we were supposed to observe.

  A civil war had just ended in the United States. I had wanted to go back and study that, but the TTA felt they weren’t ready to handle the difficulties of sending travelers into a war zone and bringing them back safely. We’d have to wait until more missions were run and experience accumulated.

  Our maps led us through the woods and past a flowing stream. It was clear as glass. It made a singing sound as it navigated its way over rocks and around obstacles. We crossed over it at one point, using a thick fallen tree trunk as a bridge. I marveled at the constant chatter of insects and birds. I swatted away tiny gnats and flies. They were incredibly annoying. I finally understood why previous generations had devised all kinds of methods for eliminating them.

  Eventually, we came to the edge of the woods. Looking around, making sure no one was around, we stepped onto private property. According to our maps, this was our destination.

  We heard an animal make a whinnying sound in the distance. A horse! I knew that from my studies. I’d heard it before on temporary ear chips, the ones that hook over your earlobes and send the information directly to your brain.

  Waylon and I looked at each other and smiled. In a quiet voice, he said, “Do you hear that? We should go find it. I’d love to see a horse. There’s nothing else for us to observe right now.”

  He was right. The hanging would eventually take place at the tree in the middle of the yard between us and the house. Nobody was there now.

  Sticking to the edge of the forest that surrounded the property, we walked until we spotted a barn. Then we moved stealthily forward, trying not to make any quick movements that might attract the attention of someone looking out a window of the large plantation house.

  Finally reaching the barn, we slipped in through an open door and moved into the shadows. There were men of dark brown color working in there. They were grooming horses and cleaning out the stalls.

  The horses were magnificent. A man patted the muscular side of one. It whinnied and shook its long slender neck. These horses were especially beautiful: healthy-looking with shiny coats of hair.

  We crept into a corner behind machinery and listened. We’d seen the horses. We continued to watch the interaction between men and beasts.

  A tan-skinned man entered the barn and shouted, “Is she ready?”

  One of the men who had been placing a saddle on the back of a horse said, “Yes, suh,” and trotted out the animal. The man who had made the request climbed onto the horse’s back. He grabbed the reins, squeezed the sides of the animal with his legs and leaned forward. The animal started walking. When they were out of the barn, it picked up speed. I decided that if it were ever safe for me to do it without getting caught, I’d love to try riding a horse.

  The dark-skinned man walked over to another. He said, “How bad she hurt dis time?”

  I thought they were referring to the horse. I knew people weren’t supposed to ride horses when they’d been injured. Horses sometimes had to be killed in order to put them out of their misery. If they were talking about the horse that just left the barn, however, it looked fine.

  I soon realized they were talking about a person. We listened to their conversation.

  “We can’ leave now.”

  “We gotta leave tuhnigh’. Dey comin’ tuhnigh’. She be bettuh off leavin’ when she hurt dan not leavin’ at all. I don’t know when we get a chance like dis again. You know massuh never gonna set us free, don’t matter tuh him what da gov’ment says.”

  “Go see her. Talk tuh her. Do it fas’, bafuh massuh come back or his wife go check on her.”

  “Missus ain’t gonna check on her. Mary his property, not hers. And you know she want Mary dead. She jus’ as soon leave her tuh bleed tuh death. She gots tuh be sick o’ him sneakin’ off ev’ry night tuh go find Mary, comin’ back smellin’ o’ her. And now wid duh baby on duh way…”

  “Aw right. I go talk tuh her…”

  We snuck through the shadows to a side door and let ourselves out. Then we watched to see where the man was going.

  He walked down a hill and into a small building made from logs. After he came back out and returned to the barn, we made our way down to the log cabin. On this mission, we were to figure out who we could trust to reveal ourselves to. We thought it sounded like a slave had been hurt. It also sounded like her owner had been having sex with her and she was pregnant. This was right after the Civil War when slaves had technically been made free people by the U.S. government. Not all slaves had a way to leave the plantations, however, or a job to go to. And many owners made it difficult for them to leave.

  We figured this woman might be willing to talk with us. And if she reported us to the plantation owner, he’d never believe her. He’d think she was crazy.

  Waylon peeked through a small dusty window in the back of the cabin. He said, “There’s definitely a woman in there.”

  I asked, “Do you see anyone else?”

  He said, “No. What should we do? Just go inside?”

  I said, “Yes. I sense that she needs help, but won’t open the door herself.”

  Without another word, Waylon tried the doorknob. It turned easily. He pushed the door open and we both stepped inside. Quietly, he closed it behind us and placed a chair against it to keep people out until we were done.

  The woman didn’t notice us. Sh
e was lying in bed, facing away from us. She was moaning loudly and crying.

  She had dark brown skin, the color of the slaves in that space-time. We’d guessed that correctly.

  The room smelled of blood and sex and something else I couldn’t identify.

  I approached the bed. The woman was wearing a white nightgown soiled with blood. It had soaked through from her back. There was so much blood, I’d wondered if she’d been shot. From what I knew of the time period, however, I assumed she’d been whipped. The cloth appeared stuck to her skin.

  I looked at Waylon. There was concern in his eyes. He nodded at me. I interpreted that as agreement that I should address the woman.

  In as soft and gentle a voice as I could manage, I said, “Mary?”

  The woman rolled over, pushing against all the pain that sudden motion must have caused her. Her knee caught in her gown and pulled against the cloth on her back. It must have ripped away skin as she did that. There was complete terror in her eyes.

  I felt badly that we had frightened her.

  It soon became apparent, however, that she wasn’t afraid of us. She must have expected another woman. Perhaps the wife of the plantation owner. I wondered if this woman had at different times been whipped by both of them.

  In a hoarse voice, she said, “Mah prayers been answered. I prayed fuh you tuh come.”

  I asked, “Who did you pray for, Mary?”

  “Fuh mah guardian angel. God sent two angels. I prayed and prayed and prayed.”

  I wondered how she saw us. Their pictures of guardian angels looked nothing like us. They had light tan skin. Ours was green. They had regular eyes. With our contact lenses in, we looked like beings with enormous black eyes. Angels were depicted with beautiful white wings. We had no wings and were unable to fly. Angels usually had golden hair. We were bald with green scalps. And we certainly didn’t have a golden glow surrounding us.

  Unless Mary was suffering from fever or delirious from pain. I wanted to ask how she perceived us, but then was not the time. It seemed best to go along with her interpretation and pretend to be angels. No one would go looking around for angels, even if people did believe they had appeared to her.

  I said, “Mary, you’re hurt…”

  She said, “Help me. Please. I wid child. It prob’ly massuh’s child. I had two by him bafouh and dey was ripped from mah arms soon as dey weaned, and sold as slaves. I want dis baby tuh have a bettuh fate.”

  I asked, “How are you hurt? What’s wrong exactly?”

  Mary said, “I’m sick tuh mah stomach an’ throwin’ up from bein’ pregnant. But I been whipped, too, and I think it’s infected. I’m hot, den cold. I had a fever since yestuhday.”

  I said, “May I see your back?”

  She said, “Yes.”

  I nodded to Waylon to give us some privacy. He walked behind a wardrobe and busied himself with something. I heard him moving objects around, probably studying them.

  Mary tried to lift her nightgown up, but started crying. She said, “I cain’t do it mahself. Da pain’s too much.”

  I said, “I can help you. Just tell me if I need to stop.”

  Mary lifted the nightgown above her knees and knelt on the bed. She said, “Go on den.”

  I took the bottom edge of her nightgown in my hands. Slowly, I lifted it up to her shoulders. She winced a number of times, but let me do it.

  Her back was the most gruesome thing I’d ever seen. It was covered with blood and pus and clear fluid from areas that looked like burst blisters. Deep red lines ran like rivers across her back. They ran in all directions, crisscrossing each other like nature had gone mad and lost its way. Pus oozed out from some of those lines. There were patches where skin had been torn off her back and places where threads from her gown had adhered.

  I knew that I could heal her wounds if we could get her to our ship.

  I didn’t bother to consult Waylon. I said, “Mary, I can cure you.”

  Letting her nightgown fall back around her body, sitting down on the bed with her legs over the side, she said, “I prayed fuh a miracle an’ God ansuhed mah prayers.” There were tears in her eyes.

  I thought how to explain our ship to her. I said, “Mary, I’m an angel helper, not an angel exactly. I came from the sky, but I came in a metal ship. I have miracle medicine that can cure you, but you have to go with me to the ship. I can cure your wounds with a combination of heat, light and ointment.”

  Mary started trembling. With the look of an abused, terrified animal, she leapt off the bed and cowered in the corner. She said, “I cain’t go. I be caught. I be whipped again.”

  I said, “Mary, we were sent to help you. You should let us fulfill our mission.”

  Waylon cleared his throat. I knew he wanted to talk this over with me.

  Mary said, “I do not want tuh be a disobedient child.” She looked toward the ceiling, placing her hands together, her fingers pointing upward. “Lord, fo’give me. Thy will be done.” Turning to me, she said, “It will be safer tuhnight. Aftuh dark. It will be harder tuh see us.”

  I said, “That’s fine. We’ll come back then. We’ll meet you right here.”

  Mary grabbed my arm. She said, “God knows everythin’. He already knows dis. I don’t know if all angels know all things. But slaves are free now, by gov’ment order, if we can get tuh a free place. I in love wid Jessey. He fleein’ tuhnight wid Henry and Basil. I was supposed tuh go, too, but I so sick I can hardly stand up. Can dey come wid me tuh your ship? Den we can leave right aftuh you cure me. Can you bless us and help us get away? Please. Oh, please. I love God wid all mah heart. I try tuh be da best person I can be given my circumstances.”

  I said, “That would be fine.”

  My heart was breaking for this woman. We could help her. I felt this didn’t violate the Law of Noninterference to any significant degree. She and the other former slaves were planning to escape anyway. I’d give her treatment that would heal her back within hours. That’s all. It wasn’t like I was arranging their method of escape. If I wanted to, I could take them in the time travel pod to a completely different time and place. I wasn’t doing anything like that, just giving this woman treatment to help her wounds heal.

  Mary said, “When it gets dark and you see lights flickerin’ in da windows of da big house, it should be safe fuh you tuh get me.” She thought for a moment and added, “I know you’re usually invisible—watchin’ ovah me, but invisible. Can you make me invisible, too?”

  I said, “No, Mary, I can’t.”

  She said, “We should leave at night den. It’s da only way. Knock three times on mah door, so’s I know it’s you.”

  Waylon moved the chair. He opened the door a sliver and peeked out. Then he opened it wider and led the way back outside. I followed, shutting the door behind me.

  We walked in silence until we reached the edge of the forest. Then we slipped under the cover of leaves and shadows and walked to our pod.

  Waylon said, “I’m not sure you should heal her.”

  I said, “Law of Noninterference, right?”

  He said, “Yes.”

  I explained my reasoning. “The amendment to the original law states that in the event that a time traveler needs to save their own life or the life of a fellow traveler or needs to bring back the dead body of a traveler, they are to use their judgment regarding the law. Right?”

  Waylon lifted his arm to move a branch out of his way. He said, “Yes.”

  I said, “Those rules were made before actual time travel started. It comes out of the Theory of the Multiverse. It’s just a theory. No one knows if it’s true or not. We’ll know more as we run missions. In the meantime, think about it. By simply showing ourselves to people, we’re changing their lives. And yet figuring out who we can trust and interacting with them is a part of this mission that we’re on right now. Mary thinks we’re angels. What if she becomes a preacher because of that? Then we’ve changed h
er life in a significant way by just showing up and letting her see us. Now what if she becomes a preacher and changes someone else in some significant way? Then the multiverse could be changed even more. I think that as long as we don’t move her to a different time-space, we’re obeying the basic idea behind the Theory of the Multiverse.”

  Waylon said, “We’ll do it your way. All of this gets reviewed by the TTA when we get back home, anyway. Everything’s subject to evaluation after missions are run and data collected.”

  After returning to our pod, we recorded the events that had just taken place and rested until dark.

  When night fell, we left our ship. The moon was bright enough to light our way. Passing by the lake, I remembered that Waylon and I had planned to go swimming. That would not happen now. We made our way through the woods to the edge of the plantation property. We batted biting insects away from our faces. They were so incredibly annoying, I felt glad they had all gone extinct.

  The lights were on in the main house. No one seemed to be outside. The grounds were quiet except for the incessant night chatter I knew to be frogs and toads and insects.

  We made our way down to Mary’s cabin. I jumped when a horse whinnied. We moved farther into the shadows, but no one appeared.

  When we finally reached the cabin, Waylon knocked on the door three times. He did it so quietly, I wasn’t sure Mary would hear it.

  The door opened a crack. Mary was wearing a striped cotton dress. It must have been painful for her to have taken off the nightgown and put it on. She looked pretty in it.

  A smile flickered over her face as she stepped outside.

  In silence, we snuck around the side of the barn and hurried to the edge of the forest. Then we stepped into the leafy coolness, appreciating the cover it would give us.

  Mary said, “Look at da moonlight comin’ down through da trees. It makes the tip o’ da leaves silver. God made da world so beautiful, didn’t He?”

  Waylon replied, “The world really is beautiful. Moonlight on trees is one of the most exquisite things I’ve ever seen.”