Chronocide 0: Snowblind

It didn’t feel real. It felt like Hazel must be dreaming.  Perhap some strange expression of her anxieties about school, and her  worry over her mother.

There was no way, after all, that it could really be happening.

That didn’t stop Hazel from gaping in awe at the beauty of it, as it washed over her.

It  came over her like a wave, bringing with it a strange tingling in her  core. A feeling of…not quite wrongness but that something was different.  As it spread across the room the pinpricks of light flickered, flashed,  as what seemed to be strange trails of connection glittered between  them.

There was a hum from the generator, a pop of light in the  distance, and all the dots in the endless sky beyond became a series of  sharp lines, as if they were flying past them.

Simon reached out,  his eyes wide with wonder and panic, and somehow she could feel a  strange…connection, even before his hand grasped hers. Like a tether,  linking between their open hands.

Her mother had her hands  clasped together, tears leaking from under her sunglasses as they  reflected the light of the star-spackled void the walls had become.  “Joy.” She whispered. “I’ll find you too. If I can fix this, I can fix  everything..”

“Response:” the AI’s voice sounded muted, and far away “I’m with you in the stream of time, Stella Kovalenko.” 

Hazel didn’t understand what was going on, but her mother’s words rang in her ears. ‘We’re coming home’.

Time  seemed odd, distorted. She didn’t know how long they were in that  strange space before the pinpricks of light became a solid wall of  too-bright energy. It flashed, blinding her, as the entire world seemed  to lurch under her feet.

She felt Simon hit the ground, fingers slipping from hers, as the whole world seemed to lurch to a sudden and full stop.

The  lights on the machines blinked and mechanical fans whirred desperately  as the rip in the universe resealed, leaving Hazel still feeling odd and  tingly deep inside her body, in her very nerves.

They were in  Dr. Kovalenko’s basement lab, their things piled around their feet and  Simon in a heap against a box with a twitching smile on his face. It  seemed the same as it had before the light show.

Once Hazel found herself aware of the position of all her limbs again, she discovered that she had somehow gotten into a crouch.

Taking stock of the room, and the way it looked the same, she asked hesitantly. “...Mom? Simon? You okay?”

Simon  looked up at her from where he was sprawled in a halo of his hair on  the ground. “I feel like someone threw me through a microwave on the  defrost setting.”

“I’m better than I’ve been in years, Hazel.” her mother said “Joy, have we made it?”

“Destination: Terra has been reached, Dr. Kovalenko.” The computer announced. 

Hazel  hopped up, and strode over to Simon, leaning down and grabbing his  wrist to help him up. “Looks like the same place we left.”

Simon  struggled to his feet with a nod of his head. “Yeah ah…it was a neat  light show, maybe with some light irradiation, but I don’t think we’ve  gone that far, ma’am.”

Dr. Kovalenko smiled, perhaps a little  smugly, and tapped the side of her sunglasses. “Upstairs, please. You’ll  see once we get out of the unit’s transfer range.” 

“Alright,”Hazel nodded, and dusted Simon off. It was nice to see her mother smiling at least… “Ready when you are.”

Simon  nodded to her in thanks, before he adjusted his glasses. He looked  skeptical but after that light show, he at least looked like he wasn’t  about to doubt them JUST yet.

Her mother made her  way up the stairs. About halfway up, they seemed more worn and neglected  than they had been on the way down. 

Hazel brushed her fingers over the banister as she climbed the stairs behind her mom. “Huh.”

Dust came away against her fingertips, dust that hadn’t been there before.

Stella  frowned as she pushed the door open “What a mess,” she murmured, “so  this is the locational analogue? Abandoned, perhaps? That would be in  our best interest.”

As the door opened, Hazel saw– well. It was  similar to her childhood home, but at the same time it definitely  wasn’t. A different color paint adorned the walls, peeling off of musty  old wood in salmon colored sheets, and the shape of the hall was  different, more of a T shape than a straight shot down to the basement  from the kitchen.

Trash and fallen light fixtures and ceiling tiles littered the ground, crunching under Stella’s boots as she paced around. 

It was enough to make Hazel stop short at the top of the stairs.

Oh.

The dreamlike feeling seized her and she felt dizzy for a moment, gripping the top of the dusty banister.

Simon sputtered quietly, gripping the banister to keep himself steady. “...we’re really not in Kansas anymore, are we?”

“No.”  Stella murmured “we should be in the Pax Republic, though I admit, I’m a  little frustrated with the state of our house’s counterpart.”

She  shook her head, and made her way towards the door. In the distance,  even through the dreamlike stupor, Hazel could hear loud noises.Music,  cheering…crackling like fireworks. 

Hazel shook off the  dizzy feeling, and headed into the kitchen. She looked to see if the  leftovers of their chinese food were there.

“Probably better the house is empty,” she pointed out. “Wouldn’t want to spook any munchkins.”

The  kitchen was desolate. Empty save for a worn old table and a defunct  fridge. Whoever had been living here, they hadn’t been around in a  while. No chinese food, no leftovers, not even her box of cereal.

Simon laughed softly, looking around with a pensive smile, “yeah, that’d be a real shame.”

He shook his head “I’m guessing we’re not going to be making the opening ceremonies at the university , eh?” 

“Yeah  I guess not,” Hazel agreed softly. She perked up and oriented toward  the sound coming from outside. “Huh. You guys hear that?”

Stella  cocked her head with a slight frown. “....music. It sounds like it might  be some sort of celebration. Maybe a parade from the cacophony of it.”

WIth  a raise of his eyebrow, Simon went to the nearest window and peered  out. “...there’s SOMETHING going on a few blocks away. I see sparklers  going off and everything. Looks like we’re not far from other people..”

“Do you know anything about that, mom?” Hazel asked.

Stella’s mouth drew a hard line. “I have an inkling, though the timing is a little appropriately perfect.”

She  dusted herself off “come, let’s go take a look. It’s about time we  re-establish and reacquaint ourselves with how the world’s changed since  I’ve last been here.” 

Hazel looked to Simon, tacitly asking if he agreed it was a good idea.

Simon  shrugged. His face told her everything she needed to know. He was out  of his element, shaken, and just trying to go with the flow.

Dr.  Kovalenko walked quickly towards the door, pushing it open and waving  for them to follow. “Come along. Let’s go see what all the fuss is  about.” 

Hazel shrugged back, and headed after her mom. “Let's see if there are any munchkins.”

It  turned out the house they’d appeared in was condemned, a fact made  evident by the large red x’s painted on the door, and on the signs in  the yard. A lonely sales sign creaked as it swung in the summer wind,  untouched as nobody bothered yet to buy up the land.

But Stella,  she walked down the street with the confidence of a woman who knew  where she was going. Confidence her daughter often didn’t see. Dressed  in a long black coat and her sunglasses, she drifted like someone out of  an old spy film past increasingly well kept lawns and squat townhouses.  

It wasn’t too different from home. Same sorts of houses, the  occasional neighbor giving them looks of curious surprise as they packed  up to head towards the commotion downtown. But there were key  differences.

Differences that Simon had been pointing out as they  walked. There wasn’t an American flag to be seen. Instead, hanging from  a few of the houses, and from flagpoles on street dividers were a flag  of rich green. A peace sign, in bright golden yellow, with white  starburst behind it, stood embossed over a shield and flowers upon its  backdrop.

The cars, as well…while many things seemed  contemporary, from the walkman a child had walked by listening to, to  the sound of a television blaring out an open window, the cars seemed in  design terms about 20 years out of date.

It was clear that even if it looked like home, they were far from it.

Her  mother didn’t comment on any of it, though she did glance at the flags  with a pensive expression before quickening her pace towards the town  center.

It disoriented Hazel terribly, the streets and  sights that should have been familiar that were just wrong. She was  possessed of the same kind of feeling she’d had as a child, wandering  into the wrong kindergarten classroom, and sitting down at a desk in the  position of her own, but somewhere strange entirely.

She tried to shake it off. Ground herself in the moment. 

“Here  is here, and now is now,” she murmured to herself. It didn’t matter  that she wasn’t sure where here, or now was exactly. It was what it was.  And she would proceed without worry.

Simon took several deep breaths with her, glancing her way in concern before taking her hand.

He was clearly off balance as her, but it was clear he was trying to keep a handle on it for both their sakes.

The  closer they got to the city, the more people they saw. Crowds of them  rose just ahead. They milled about, congregating among the shops,  offices and municipal buildings. Most of them faced the street, and it  was incredibly clear why.

A parade was passing through,  sparklers shooting out of floats as a big band played a triumphant tune,  and dancers swayed across the city streets. On the monitors affixed to  buildings, ‘Peace Day’ scrolled across under the flag Hazel had seen all  over, as well as the image of a woman.

She was a warm,  grandmotherly woman with dark tan skin and black hair tied back in a  braid. She smiled at the camera, giving it a wave. It seemed to be a  live feed from one of the floats, from the way the crowd could be seen  behind her. Underneath it read.

‘President Soteria Costa welcomes you to celebrate Peace Day: A Celebration of Heroes’.

But  all that paled in comparison to what Dr. Kovalenko , Simon, and Hazel  saw as they pushed their way to the front of the crowd.They were just in  time to see a float roll past, bearing a large sign and the image of a  woman posing in some sort of arctic camouflage against the backdrop of  the peace sign flag.

That woman, with long blonde hair tied in a braid and all to familiar features…

Was Hazel.

In large letters bobbing above the sign, it read ‘In Remembrance to Pax’s Greatest Hero, Steel Heron.’

Stella’s  mouth was a hard line, and her fingers clenched. “...oh, Soteria.” she  sighed sharply “you never were good at giving up the past, were you?” 

None  of Hazel’s repetition of mantras or mottos, none of her mindful  breathing, or decision not to worry, could interrupt her reaction to  what she was looking at.

She stared up at the image of herself.

“Mom. Mom why am I in a parade?”

Simon blurted out almost simultaneously “you’re an alternate universe war hero???”

Someone  to her side glanced over, and looked between her and the float with a  curious expression on his face. He leaned to whisper to someone next to  him.

Stella tensed, perhaps it was the overstimulation of the  large crowd finally getting to her, or the explanation to come. But she  shook her head; “It’s…complicated. I can’t explain it here, it’s too  public. We need to push on through to the capitol building an—”

She  fell silent as the next float appeared behind a military procession,  soldiers in deep green fatigues marching along the street and giving  salutes and smiles to the cheering crowd. Upon that float was a large  chair, with the tired looking ‘Soteria Costa’ sitting atop it, waving  with a warm smile.

And beside her…a tall and graceful-featured  woman in a long olive military coat, adorned with medals and a small pin  bearing a peace sign surrounded by a starburst. Long pale blond hair  was pulled back into a ponytail under a military beret, as she stood  with rapt attention next to Soteria.

A long scar trailed across  her face but couldn’t disguise the truth. The truth that, as she glanced  in their direction, gave Hazel another chill.

It was her own face, perhaps a few decades older, that looked back at her. 

Hazel stared up into what she could only assume to be the face of her own future. Like looking into a mirror darkly.

The shock, confusion, and curiosity was written all over her normally composed face, and she froze, watching. 

She felt like she ought to call out, but she had no idea what on earth, or terra, supposedly, she could say.

The  man beside her suddenly moved. She heard a crackle of radio static, a  whispered command– and the monitors down the street all went out at  once.

There were murmurs of confusion that almost immediately  gave rise to screams of fear as one of the darkened lamps exploded and  rained glass upon the crowd, the one closest to Soteria’s float  illuminating with text.

“Our Leader Distorts the Truth to Change the Past” it read. “But She Doesn’t Have A Future.”

The  woman beside Soteria, the woman with her face, lifted the president up  by the arm. It was then that Hazel saw the man beside her push the  plunger down on a small handheld device.

There was hardly a  delay. A sharp beep, the footfalls of the man as he shoved Hazel out of  the way and into the street as he retreated towards the back of the  crowd, and the deafening explosion as Soteria’s float went up in flames.  

The president flew back with the explosion, the bodyguard  caught in the flames…and Hazel felt a sudden sharp sting of pain as a  piece of shrapnel shot its way into her chest from the wreckage, searing  hot and jagged as it pierced her heart.

Simon cried out her  name, his hand appearing in the corner of her eye, before he too was hit  by a flying piece of debris. Her mother’s voice drowned out in the  screams and wails of terror as the edges of her vision pulsed black. 

Hazel  had just enough time to reach up to her chest, in confusion and  curiosity more than anything else, before she felt herself losing  consciousness.

It really had been a hell of a day.

The light faded away, and Hazel fell into the abyss. But it was strange.

Death  was supposed to be a one way trip, so why did she suddenly see that  field of stars once more, and a feeling of being yanked back?

There was a sharp pulling sensation before her eyes snapped open…to see the parade rolling by in front of her.

A  man stood beside her, whispering something to someone next to him, as  her mother stared at the parade in anxious shock. “It’s…complicated. I  can’t explain it here, it’s too public. We need to push on through to  the capitol building an—”

It was the last thing she’d heard her mother say, clearly, before the explosion.

The  parade float with Soteria and the woman with her face rolled into view.  The only difference was now Simon whimpered in terror.

He  practically fell backwards, his eyes pinpricked and darting behind his  glasses as he frantically felt his throat, and then his chest with  shaking hands. 

Hazel blinked away the stars, and her hands went to her own chest for just a moment, before she put a hand on Simon.

“Simon, Simon are you okay?”

How  could she be okay, that was the question. Had the explosion been some  kind of hallucination? What was going on with this sudden deja vu?

Her whole body was on the alert now, her every sense vibrating, trying to make sense of the situation.

“You died.” Simon said in a shaking voice. “And I died. There was an explosion…”

The man beside them hissed out a sharp breath, and there was the crackle of a radio again.

The lights in the street and the monitors all went out at once…except for one by Soteria’s float. 

“Our  Leader Distorts the Truth to Change the Past” it read. “But She Doesn’t  Have A Future.” It displayed in flashing text, as one of the monitors  exploded , sending a sudden rash of screams through the crowd.

“Again???” Simon yelped, jolting back.

Her mother turned to her now “Hazel! get down and to safety, I think something is…”

Hazel saw the man beside them go for his jacket pocket once more, as the whole scene began to play out before her eyes again. 

“No!”  Hazel’s body reacted before her mind was even in gear. Every muscle  coiled, and she leapt bodily at the reaching figure, tackling him with  full force and all the elegance that childhood dance and martial arts  lessons had imparted on her.

She didn’t know how she knew it was going to happen. She didn’t know how Simon knew.

It didn’t matter.

She wasn’t going to let it happen again. Not if she could help it.

He  shouted out in shock, a detonator scattering from his hand as he went  down hard on the curb below her. Even in his dazed state, he fumbled for  a knife on his belt with his free hand. “You…?? Steel Heron?”

Upon  the float, the woman with her face had scooped the rattled looking  Soteria into her arms, and leapt off, carrying her away from the float  at all costs. But there was a moment…a moment where the President’s eyes  turned to Hazel, mid-grapple with the would-be assassin.

Hazel  didn’t pay any attention to what the man was saying, or really to what  was happening around her. She was focused on keeping the attacker down  on the ground, and his limbs out of reach of the detonator, or any other  weapons. 

She grabbed his wrist as he went for the knife, her pale eyes alight with intensity.

Simon  darted past her, and snatched up the detonator, dancing backwards and  away from them so he couldn’t reach it to detonate the bomb.

The  man snarled, and tried once to wrench his hand out to stab her, only  for the sound of a dozen safeties clicking off at once around them to  still him.

He grit his teeth, looking over her shoulder down the barrel of an assault rifle– one of many surrounding them.

“Stand aside,” a low, yet familiar voice ordered. Her own voice, aged with time.

“Yes  Ma’am, Wrought Heron!” one of the soldiers stepped out of the way,  leaving room for her to loom over Hazel and her pinned target.

“Well I’ll be damned.” she said in a wry voice. “If it isn’t my big sister. Well done.”

“This  isn’t over.” The man spat, his spittle nearly hitting Hazel in the  face, “I've got agents everywhere.” His tongue wiggled in his mouth,  towards his back tooth “So you can go to hell, attack dog.” 

The  motion of his tongue alerted Hazel, who was still paying little  attention to what was happening around her, her attention narrowed to  the demands of the moment. “Cyanide pill,” she huffed, wrestling with  him. She reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding his wrist to try  to grapple with his mouth.

Wrought jerked her hand, and  discharged a pistol round into the man’s knee, shocking him enough that  Hazel was able to get a firm grip on his mouth before he could bite  down.

“We’re taking him in.” She ordered. “Boys, work with the  lady to get him up and into handcuffs. Then fan out and find his  accomplices.”

Simon sputtered, handing the detonator to one of  the soldiers when he asked for it. “I feel like I’m trapped in some kind  of mass hallucination,” he murmured to himself.

Hazel’s mother  forced her way to the front of the group, and stopped short when she saw  her daughter wrestling with the man on the ground. “Ah…I see you have  this well in hand, dear.” 

“He was going to trigger a  bomb,” Hazel said, her hyperfocus starting to ease, and the strangeness  of the situation leak into her mind again, now that the danger was…  mostly over. Maybe part of it was her ears ringing from the gunshot  bringing her back to reality.

She waited for the soldiers around her to take custody of the man, not easing her grip until she was sure it was safe to.

The  soldiers took the man in custody, affixing a gag to stop his tongue  from grabbing the cyanide pill, and handcuffs as they lead him away from  the scene.

The howl of police sirens was hanging in the air, a  bomb disposal squad already on scene at the float, as a paramedic team  ran past to tend to any wounded.

But nobody had died. That much was clear, which was a step up from that strange vision.

As  the hyperfocus cleared, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Good work out  there. Though, if you’re who you seem to be, I’m not surprised.”

Simon  was steadied by Doctor Kovalenko, who’s hands rooted on his shoulders.  “Doctor,” Hazel heard him whisper, “what on earth is happening?” 

Hazel  wanted to huddle up with her mom, and with Simon, but there was no way  she could ignore the other voice that wanted her attention.

She turned to the person with the hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks.Uh?” She felt unsure what to say next as she looked that person in the face.

The  woman with her face, Wrought Heron as she’d heard it said by a soldier,  gave her an easy smile. “I’m Wrought. Wrought Heron. Agent of the Pax  Republic. There’s someone who wants to speak with you.”

She  glanced over Hazel’s shoulder, …and for a moment, there seemed to be a  silent exchange of something quiet and tense between her and her mom.  “All of you, probably.” 

“Good, because I’m not going  anywhere without them,” she said firmly. Hazel may not have had the best  grip on what the hell was going on, but she sure wasn’t about to leave  her mom and Simon behind, even for answers.

The sound of  footsteps behind Wrought gave way to an excited, if shaky, voice. “It is  you! Hazel, Stella! And Even young Officer Erikson!”

Soteria Costa peeked out from around Wrought, before stepping around and opening her arms “I knew you weren’t dead… I knew it!”

Simon glanced back at Stella with a pleading look for some kind of context.

With  a gentle sigh, Stella let go of Simon and walked forward to give the  president of the Pax Republic a firm hug “It’s been a while, Madame  Soteria. But I’ve clawed my way back home.”

Wrought leaned over to whisper “Ma’am. We should move this to a secure location.” 

Hazel  looked between the older version of herself, her mother, and Madam  Soteria. She held up her hands in front of her chest. “I’m very sorry. I  have absolutely no idea what’s going on.”