The White Rabbit Chronicles - Part XI

XI

“Flash.”

White Rabbits eyes traced the lines and circles on the monochromatic display.

“Forward.”

The screen popped and changed to a new diagram. White Rabbit’s lips moved automatically.

“Parallel.”

She was tipped back in a crescent-shaped chair. The lunar throne nearly encased her and suspended the monitor in front of her face. A new flash. A new graph.

“Reverse.”

Machinery clicked on either side of her head. It was encased by stiff cushions, holding it still while the scans clocked her responses.

“Reverse.”

The chair tilted – a subtle disorientation. A design feature for the docs. A distraction for her. But she was in a flow, and her focus didn’t falter.

“Translation.”

The scanners flanking her emitted a high-pitched signal. White Rabbit could feel the machine was reaching the end of the program.

“Absolute.”

At her final utterance, the graph flickered away and the screen went dark. The chair slowly righted itself, and the sensors at either side of her face went silent. As the cradle whispered its way back to center, the screen slipped out of view, returning her to the room.

The dark spherical chamber held its silence for a moment, before the sterile atmosphere was pierced by the sliding open of a door. The sharp angles of the seal slipped away, revealing a silhouette standing before her. The crisp lines of the uniform of a Time Peace Psi agent. Marko Vaida tapped something on his sleek pad. Even though his features were obscured, White Rabbit clocked him immediately. The posture was pure Marko.

“Did you have any difficulty with the test?” he asked. His voice was hard to parse. Like a warm melody trapped under a sheet of ice.

The juxtaposition was mirrored in his appearance. Warm eyes – a rich glowing brown, but contrasted with sharp cheekbones, cool olive skin, and slick shiny black hair. They seemed to hold the man’s essence in stasis. He was a cool enigma, with the slightest candlelight flicker glinting inside. He was held in constant, eerie equilibrium.

“No,” White Rabbit replied calmly. Firmly.

She put her feet on the ground. Literally and figuratively. It had been weeks since her failure in the field. The world was free of the haze. Mostly. The one lingering question she couldn’t hammer out was what she was still doing here. That one fact kept the world askew.

Marko’s fingers skated across the tablet as the door hissed shut behind him. A warm light illuminated them both, setting the scene for an interview. Sure enough, when he glanced back up, White Rabbit could see the incisive gaze that indicated she was still under the microscope.

“Have you had any more trouble sleeping?”

“No,” White Rabbit replied with a forced coolness. “And they asked me that before the scan.”

“Is that so?” Marko asked nonchalantly, making yet another mark on his tablet.

Even that was part of the test, White Rabbit thought bitterly to herself. And she couldn’t help herself.

“Do I lose points if I ask about going out on a mission?”

Marko glanced up from under his brow.

“You do not. Why do you feel that would be the case?”

White Rabbit ignored the obvious insinuation of paranoia and cut to the chase.

“Your tests show I’m up to snuff. You have my data. Send me back.”

Marko straightened his already pristine posture and at last tucked away the tablet. He folded it behind his back, where his crossed arms met. A slight frown played at the corner of his lips as the light caught the trident-like Psi pin on his collar. It glimmered an impeccable silver, catching the light like a blade.

“You have completed two meta-temporal shifts already, landing once as White Rabbit the Eighteenth, and now as White Rabbit the Fifteenth. Do you think you could handle a third landing?”

The insinuation was hit like a discordant note. Sickening, and impossible to miss.

“The second jump was out of necessity,” Eighteen–no, Fifteen–said.

“And a third one would not,” Marko countered. “We have the First on standby should the need arise.”

“Look, I didn’t plan this,” White Rabbit continued. “It all fell in my lap. From nightmare to dream. I flew through it all. Now, I’m just asking for a chance to finish it. I need this.”

Marko’s gaze kept cutting through her. The scalpel eyes traced the features of her face.

“Alpha Control is not convinced in regards to your option,” he said neutrally.

“You’ve tested my memory center, you know I haven’t lost it,” White Rabbit explained, trying to keep her head level. “I told you what the reports said. What I saw. Total decapitation. The Ashen Phoenix, actually dead! Anarakia in chaos. We’re talking about a real endgame here.”

“And an extraordinarily improbable set of circumstances,” Marko noted. “From what I’ve been told, Alpha is more interested in the other data you brought back.”

“What other–?”

And then she cottoned on. The puzzle piece fell into place with an almost audible snap. The data drive Twenty-Six had forced her to take. The Oblixis plan.

“You’re not serious.” The words tumbled out before she could catch them.

“I don’t make the decisions,” Marko reminded her. “I have heard, however, that it is in consideration. For whatever that’s worth.”

The Oblixis plan. A plan to team up with the mad Anarak against the greater enemy. Hadn’t the failure on the meta-timeline Twenty-Six had come from spoke volumes about this madness? But wait–they only had her say-so about the fate of Twenty-Six’s home universe. Third-hand reports. And they didn’t put stock in her calls.

They were dancing with this wild wager after all.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Fifteen pressed. “It didn’t work last time, and the odds of making it work this time are slim to none.”

“Poorer than the odds of Kennedy Frost assassinating the Phoenix a second time?” Marko inquired.

White Rabbit bit her lip. She had walked into that one.

“Consider the backfire potential,” she said, rebounding quickly. “Oblixis is a loose cannon, and we’d be handing off sensitive intel. That could send all of Time Peace up in flames.”

“I was under the impression that the destruction of Time Peace was a core component to your proposal,” Marko countered.

“No,” she protested, trying not to let her frustration boil over. Technically, he was right on the money, but he didn’t get the big picture. Not about how they’d nearly made it. He hadn’t seen the spider start to eat itself. “It would just be a feint. Alpha Control could lay down reserves in key spots. The right kind of reserves. We know the moves – we just run it again!”

“That would be putting our faith in the enemy failing to make their own moves. A very passive strategy. Alpha Control would prefer to have some, well, control over the situation.”

“Oblixis can’t be controlled,” White Rabbit almost snapped, reeling herself back at the last moment. The storm inside her was whipping up into a hurricane. She felt like this world was slipping away, too. She tried to force her anxiety into the shape of rationality.

“I’m not ignoring Sainne or any other counter moves,” she explained. “It’s not Anarakia we have to worry about. It’s the Phoenix. They’re not the same. This is the best part, don’t you see? Even if Sainne knows, it doesn’t mean the Ashen Phoenix will listen to him. The Hawk was right about the endgame.”

“If that’s so, it is rather strange that it is the Hawk who is electing not to pursue your recommendation,” Marko said dryly. “It seems that he believes the better inside blow will come from Oblixis, and he has elected to pursue that front. As I understand it, at least. My part is to evaluate Omegas. Your part is to deliver information. Your mission was a success.”

He wasn’t listening. White Rabbit could feel heat start to rise in her face. She tried to fight it, but how was she supposed to control a tide of outrage? Contain it, sure, but keep it out of sight of Marko’s prying eyes? And yet she had to. She had to somehow break through his glassy facade and make him understand what was really at stake! Couldn’t they see what they were throwing away? And worse, what depravity they were signing onto? Had they all gone crazy?

The blood drained from her face.

“This is another test,” she said blankly.

Marko’s eyebrow arched. “What is, Fifteen?”

A new heat was kindling inside her, but it didn’t threaten to burst out of her. It filled her up, but didn’t consume her. No, she was perfectly in tune with this radiant blaze.

“The Hawk isn’t considering the Oblixis plan,” White Rabbit explained. “You just wanted to gauge my reaction. You’re trying to get me to break now, aren’t you, Marko?”

He frowned, and a hint of scorn flashed within his eyes. “I told you before, I have a duty. I am a Psi. You are an Omega. And I believe we’re both finished here.”

He turned and the door slid open once more, bathing him in light.

“What are you putting on the report?” White Rabbit demanded.

Marko stopped, and languidly glanced over his shoulder.

“A clean bill of health, Fifteen,” he stated. “Miraculously. But it won’t get you what you want.”

She stepped forward and clutched onto his pristine sleeve.

“I can do this,” she insisted. “You can see that. Please, help me convince the Hawk.”

Marko’s cold exterior finally melted. Just a little. He looked down at her pityingly.

“Now that,” he said sympathetically, “would take a real miracle.”

***

White Rabbit the Fifteenth drifted like a ghost through the streets of Iterant Point. Her medical hold had been lifted. Her reports–filed. She had no further duties. Just a faint buzz at the back of her skull where purpose used to hum.

Some of the other Rabbits–Eight, Nine, Twelve–had invited her to join them at a local music scene. The performers supposedly had a real groove, not just the usual Iterant Point fare. She had declined. Something still gave her the heebie-jeebies about seeing her own face on a different person. Maybe it was the shadow of her tangle with Twenty-Six. Maybe it was a primal urge that the other Rabbits had suppressed. Maybe they reminded her that she had lost the plot before. Their existence told her in no uncertain terms that she hadn’t been all White Rabbits. She was just a fragment. And a particularly lost one at that.

Four had suggested she apply for temporal leave. But White Rabbit didn’t feel like visiting the timelines. The thought made her queasy. Everything did. Everything except completing her mission – the one thing she couldn’t do.

She stood outside the last shop on the main road. She couldn’t find any appeal in the faux-souvenirs made up to look like real pieces of timeline history. Trinkets meant to spark purpose to those stuck in this snowglobe. A hint of purpose. Laughable to Rabbit.

She craned her head down towards the giant multi-faceted sphere in the center of the complex. The nerve center of Time Peace, where she had spent so much time before. Where she would never spend time again. She had no more business there.

It stood undamaged, still resting on the intact squat pillar like an enormous golf ball on a sunken tee. Not a scratch on it. No sign of what had happened on her second meta-timeline.

She had been able to get into the groove then. After her first mission had been completed, she was able to sit back and let it sink in that her job was done. Why couldn’t she feel that same vibe now? Maybe there really was something broken inside her that Marko couldn’t detect.

Her eyes caught on a figure in the sparse crowd. Before she could think better of it, she was waving and calling out.

“DeShawn!” She yelled, her face already lighting up.

The serious young man glanced up from across the street, his face still stony and eyes burning. White Rabbit darted between the light traffic, horns blaring at her as she did. She ignored them and pulled up right in front of the Theta.

“Long time no see,” she said.

He looked at her for a moment, as inscrutable as always. Except, he shouldn’t have been. She had started to get a read on him. Maybe it was only because it was the heat of the moment, but Fifteen had been able to get on his wavelength in the last meta-timeline. This time, the blank expression seemed alien. Wrong.

“Which one are you?” He asked bluntly.

It was a simple and obvious question. One she would normally expect. But it sent ice through her veins.

How could she have forgotten the obvious? This wasn’t her DeShawn Noble.

“Never mind,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

***

White Rabbit the Fifteenth stood looking out the tower window. The city in a bottle that was Iterant Point sprawled out before her. Beneath her feet, the tower buzzed with activity. White Rabbit wasn’t sure what all went on in this building – something Phi division handled – but she knew the Hawk’s business had brought him here.

“Good morning,” a voice came from her side.

White Rabbit nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t heard the Hawk come in. She stammered out a greeting, but he held up a hand. A mug was held in his other.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t want to drag you away from the view.”

White Rabbit cleared her throat and simply said, “Thank you for meeting with me, sir.”

After a sip on the steaming drink, the Hawk nodded and replied, “My Omegas always have my ear.”

His sharp features and alert eyes didn’t show any hint of weariness. White Rabbit wondered if it wasn’t an act. It was hard to believe anyone was out there who didn’t feel as weighed down as she did.

“It hasn’t felt like that recently,” she said.

“I can’t imagine that the reason for that has escaped you,” came the simple reply.

“No. Look, I know what I’ve done is wildly off-protocol,” White Rabbit began to explain. A nervous energy threatened to shake her words. “I know the rabbit holes can leave my mind warped. I know they did. But this isn’t a hallucination.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” the Hawk assured her. “And yet, I remain skeptical.”

“Right. For sure,” Rabbit replied, parsing the paradoxical comment. Catching on, she let some urgency leak into her voice. The need and worry that had been boiling in her for weeks. “The plan sounds nuts. But I’ve seen it happen. Run it by the Upsilons or whoever you want. If they say nothing checks out, then I give up. But if there’s a chance this could work, it’ll be our best shot.”

She turned to look him full in the face.

“Our only chance. Who knows how many spins this war has gone through? This might be the one way out.”

The Hawk paused for a moment, but the cup never lifted back to his lips. Slowly, he placed it on a beam dividing the window panes.

“Let’s say for a moment that I consider that a compelling factor,” he said slowly, looking out at the vista. “You have to understand that if I were to take this gamble, this endeavor with such long odds, I wouldn’t compound uncertainty by sending an agent with… questionable stability.”

“Marko Vaida said I had a clean bill of health,” Fifteen protested.

“He also used the word ‘miracle,’” the Hawk noted, repressing a scowl. “Hardly the typical vocabulary of such a sober psychologist. And as a strategist, I hesitate at the idea of compounding one miracle with another.”

“Please,” Rabbit said, cracking a little. “I’ve fought tooth and nail just to get this far, and it’s not the end of the line. I didn’t tumble through time just to live like a shadow. I need to finish this. It’s what I was made for.”

The Hawk looked back to her at last, but his face was grim and stony.

“It’s a grim prospect, but one that I have to contend with in any consideration of rabbit hole usage. And that is the fact that when one is opened, all of our lives will effectively be terminated. Make no mistake, it will be a different reality that carries on, not our own. Meaning, in your case, perhaps mercifully, you will not have to suffer living amongst shadows for very long. It ends, one way or another, with the opening of the gate.”

“All the more reason I have to go,” she pressed. “My story can’t end like this.”

“No,” he said sharply. After a beat, his face softened. Only a little as he took in the sights once more. “I’m afraid if your story comes to an abrupt and unsatisfying halt, it will not be the only one. I have thousands of people at my command, and each and every one of their efforts will certainly culminate in one event: sending a single person to another meta-timeline. A single person who may never have even met them, and cannot pass along their story. That is a possibility for all agents of Time Peace. Even as an Omega, you are no exception.”

“Unless there was a reason it had to be me,” White Rabbit said flatly.

“I’m afraid it won’t be you,” the Hawk insisted.

“Wait, listen. It’s Kennedy. He’s the key to all of this,” Fifteen explained, her voice gaining urgency. “You have to get him, and you have to do it right.”

The Hawk gave her a sidelong glance as she picked up steam.

“Whoever goes down the rabbit hole has to be the one to recruit him. We can’t give the counterpart Sainne a second to act. So it has to go: pop out of the rabbit hole, grab Kennedy, and only then head back to Iterant Point. Fast. Clean. No time for interference. So whoever does it has to know how to recruit the cat. I can do that.”

The Hawk’s head tilted towards her a few more degrees, but his expression was impenetrable.

“I’ve worked with him before,” Rabbit said softly. “I know how he ticks, how he thinks. You don’t want to compound a miracle – well, how much of a miracle would it be for a stranger to convince a kid to follow them into this crazy den?”

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The Hawk’s eyes barely moved, never flitting away from hers. She tried to hold the steady gaze, but it wasn’t easy. Each passing second felt like the it increased the energy beneath her, bleeding into her feet and up her spine. She needed to look away, but was convinced that if she did, her last hope would break with the gaze. She licked her lips.

“It’s the only shot we have,” she said. Anything to break the silence. “An end to the war. But we have to get it just right.”

He still didn’t react.

“I can thread the needle,” she said, barely a whisper. “Please, believe in me.”

“Can I?”

The words seemed to materialize in the air, not spoken, but willed into existence. It seemed like not a muscle in the Hawk’s face had so much as twitched with the delivery of the two word demand.

But White Rabbit didn’t hesitate to grab the lifeline.

“With everything you have.”

The Hawk blinked.

White Rabbit tried to slap on her usual carefree grin. It came out weathered, but sincere enough. She hoped.

“If you don’t… how could I make it any worse?”

***

END TRANSMISSION