VOTF:Time~aka~Diety 1: Too Much Time in My Hands…

Time is an illusion. Lunch time doubly so.
~Douglas Adams, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

Time. The unconquerable opponent. The demise of mountains and the killer of millions throughout the ages. The one gate that can’t be crossed. The one line that could not be redrawn.

Until Tomorrow…

“DEEK! Stop! You can’t do this!”

“I have to Mark. I can’t let them do anything to her.”

“Then call the cops. CIA, FBI, DoD even. They’ll help you.”

“None of them will do a thing. The DoD want my brain. The CIA ain’t allowed to touch it because its internal and the FBI take so long to stir up she’d have died of old age.”

“Well, what a bout the cops?”

“Hah. What a joke. Since when have cops been anything other than lazy, busy or corrupt? No, I have to do this. Don’t get in my way.”

“But Deek, the technology wasn’t designed for this. The differen-”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT MY TECHNOLOGY CAN DO! I DESIGNED IT! I BUILT IT! I TESTED IT! I know its limitations, Mark. It will work.”

“But the prolonged force could tear you apart!”

“Only after its torn them.”

“I can’t let you throw your life away like this.”

“She is my life!”

It didn’t used to be like this. I was a nobody. A small time researcher, working deadbeat hours for little more than my bills. My free time was spent on overtime, paying off loans endlessly stretching for eons to come. My life was sleep, work, sleep, eat, work, repeat. I worked whatever hours I could. The others didn’t mind. They were mostly in it for the credits. So was I, as a matter of fact.

“*SIGH*If I can’t dissuade you, at least tell me what I can do to help.”

“Serious?”

“Of course. Your my friend. Friends stick together no matter how suicidal another’s notions become.”

“Thanks, man. You’re the best.”

“I try. Now what can I do?”

“There should be a box in the closet marked Tax deductibles. Could you bring it here?”

“Ooookay. Sure.”

“Thanks.”

There never really was much to do at the lab. We were basically cheap security personal with no more qualifications than smart meat shields hired to distract the enemy to let the senior scientists go first. I’m fairly sure it was in the contract, but no graduate student has ever read a contract. We’re a bright group but we don’t think very much.

“This it?”

“Yep. Turn it upside down. Great.”

“Oh! I get it! A false bottomed box no one would ever go through! genius.”

“False bottom, no. Genius, yes.”

“What? But I peeked inside! There were tax forms and crap in there! did you just heap stuff on top?”

“No, the box is double-sided. Its hard to explain. It’s something my friend Teik came up with. Lets just say he rediscovered area and leave it there.”

“Man, all of you weirdos getting together probably summons the National Inquirer doesn’t it?”

“It has been known to happen…”

Tomatoes. A fruit. It grow on a vine. Its used in Pastas, Hot-dogs, Salsa, and Salads. A much debated food. One of the first recipients of fish DNA and a major product in the United States. The vegan movement was rising again and the stock-market was falling due to boycotting of “contaminated” produce. The farmers who mass produced produce used the modded stuff. The public was starting to not buy it. A standoff, Mexican in flavor. We were attempting to walk the middle ground. Plants should be bred, not bent.

“WHOA! Sweet Mother of Pearl, Ruby, Saphire and whatever else. What the Hell is that?”

“A modification of my generator. Its a suit.”
“I can see its a suit. What does it do?”

“The suit is made of di-neuro, sub-neuclaic thermine.”

“What?”

“*SIGH* You know the material the field generator dividers are mad of?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s made out of the same stuff. It also has a few pair of linked generators built into the arms.”

“Ooookay. I still have no clue what the suit DOES.”

Life was spent counting buds, measuring sizes, weights, doing chemical analysis, testing our supposed winners. We bred for quality, then quantity, the thriftiness and price. I you add up the hours, I spent eight months of my three year term in front of a computer entering in information on tomatoes. Then Teik and Zake automated the whole process. Teik wrote the program. Zake built the machines. Both could have left the lab with the humongous grants offered them. But the didn’t. None of us did. Not the Deity Club.

“The suit itself build up two fields, the positive facing inward, the negative extending to maybe two inches outward in some spots. Less in others. The gauntlet generators are linked so I don’t have to lay a differential divide to activate them. Right is the positive side, left is the negative. A few other quirks exist, but we’re running out of time. Grab my duffel near the table there, would ya?”

“Oh, wow, the suit and all. Oh, yeah. This green one?”

“Exactly. Bring it on in.”

There were nine of us at the lab. The constants. I was there, of course. Me and my Physics Major kept an eye on time. How long it took the tomato plants to grow, to bud, to bloom, to raise fruit. Zake, the engineer, came in with his beloved machines. He could do more with a wrench then Boeing could do with a workshop. Tiek was a programmer, full CS laurels. His algorithms were incomprehensible and did complex tasks in virtually no time. He kept the entire database running, as well as keeping Zake’s machines on the go. Larry was a Geology Major. His finger nails constantly had dirt under them from his messing with our soil samples. A nice guy if a bit distracted.

“This is heavy. What’s in it?”

“Something my friend Zake made. Look Mark, thank you for helping. It may not have seemed like you did much, but your service allowed me to reflect. Life is good. People like you make it worth living. Ad I want to be a part of it. But for right now,I need to put aside me and focus on her. “

“She’s this important to you?”

“She’s more than this important. To all of us….”

Kate was the only Botany/Biology Major. She knew exactly what the plants wanted and needed. Having some one who knew anything about plants was extremely useful. Syron was an a hybrid Physics Major/ Electrical Engineer. She kept an eye on the circuits and would spend hours focusing a sunlamp just so. Angie was a Chem major. She had an odd little room was a scary sign on the door. It read “Come in unauthorized and you get the chemical of the week placed in your coffee mug. You have been warned.” Angie was nice, but a little uptight. She spent more time cooking up the chemicals the breathing in the fumes. We others saw this as a mixed blessing. Jane was the real enigma in the group. Her degree read Psychology/Medical, as far as we could tell, and she didn’t really do anything. She watched us more than the plants.

“Who is she, anyway?”

“*SIGH* Its a long story Mark. I don’t have the time or the heart to tell you about it now. Listen. Between midnight and twelve oh five, the top left drawer of my desk opens to something… different. In there you will find ALL the research. Not just to my pet tech, but to the Deity Club’s. If you have not heard from me in three days, take it out. There will be a a small stack of books. Read the red book first. Then, in order, call the names and follow procedure. Tell them what I’ve done and that I went after Delilah. They’ll instruct you on how to proceed. Trust them ONLY if they follow procedure. If any of them seem phony, DO NOT trust a word they say. If none of them match up or whatever, you may open the blue folder. There is a sticky note, telling you what blanks to sign. Do not sign all of them. Sign every other one on the way down and do not sign the last one on the list. If you do it right, you will have effectively claimed stewardship over my property. Its all signed and notarized. Completely legal. If anyone starts coming after you, open the green book and follow those instructions to the LETTER. No not slip off the path once you open the book. I think that’s all of it. Oh, when you get a chance, read the row of green encyclopedias, pages 439 to 720. The full story’s there.”

“Deek, I… gosh man, that’s pretty heavy. Why you doing this? You ain’t going to die out there!”

“But I might Mark. It’s best to be ready. Now go make life ready to return to. I have a plane to catch.”

“Will they let you through with the suit?”

“I’ll be fine. Its one of those… quirks.”

“Bye Deek”

“Bye Mark”

“Delilah, here I come…”