The White Rabbit Chronicles - Part VII

VII

White Rabbit’s retinas fizzled with purple foam. A spacey dance played out across the visual spectrum, astral fingerprints of her desperate attack. That fatal flash bought the beat she had needed to dive into the vortex, but it was going to cost more than just the haze in her head.

White Rabbit the Eighteenth was vibrating between two planes of existence. One that would never be again, and another–a ghostly replica of her past. She was being undone and rematerialized, every atom in her body vibrating as the universe re-jigged itself around her. Her fingers still buzzed with the sawblade frequency of her untangling home reality. No, not her home reality. A reality she had been jammed into after her last trip down this astral highway.

She could hardly hold onto herself. When she came out on the flip side, would she still be the same Rabbit? Or would it just be a facsimile – her in all but name? No, she wouldn’t even have her name. She’d get new digits, just as before. How many times before had this wild ride played out?

It seemed that in her mind’s eye, she was falling through a tunnel of infinite mirrors, each one reflecting a different tumble through time. Every trip she had taken was splayed out in a dizzying array – every lunge at victory a snapshot of desperation. And every stamped image was proof of the futility of those grasps. What was she but an endless loop? These couldn’t be different people – they were all her, only refracted through the prism of meta-time.

The bolt of clarity zapped through her – obvious in her enlightened stupor. Meta-time wasn’t real. It was no more reality than the tweaked probabilities of the timelines. A meaningless label stunted Timeless slapped onto the surface – the only thing they could dig. But as she spiraled through the one true sky, she could see beyond the wildest reaches. This was all one cosmic loop. The biggest arena of them all. And just as a Timeless was the same cat no matter how many times they hit the reset in that sphere, she was the same White Rabbit, no matter how many numbers Time Peace tacked onto her.

She had to be. That was the only way she could be sure that the feet that stepped out of the rabbit hole would be hers.

And she knew then that she was more than merely human. More than merely Timeless. She was an eternal being, stretched beyond reality, but trapped within the unending cycle of this eternal loop. She was the loop. She was all the White Rabbits. She was Twenty-Six and beyond.

The infinity of universes swirled around her like a celestial kaleidoscope. Shades of eerie amaranth cascaded across churning chartreuse foam twisting over sapphire spirals. Bursts of tangerine spots penetrated her pupils, either blossoms in the tether between timelines, or her spaced-out nerves still snapping after the mind-blowing flash. But in the eye of the twirling mosaic, a distortion of light opened its maw and reached towards her. A new shade of reality was beckoning.

With a tickling whisper, the vortex whooshed past her. Heavy, solid ground banged her knees and resonated up her body. A kick of initiative zinged through her mind – it was time to jam.

She sprang to her feet, but alien hands dragged her back to Earth. Whipping her head side-to-side, she clocked unwelcome outfits which marked her assailants as Anarakians. She bared her teeth, a primal reflex. Sainne had beaten her to the punch when he dipped into the rabbit hole, but she hadn’t blown that much time, had she? Or had he chosen to land deep in the viper’s nest?

The surroundings slowly materialized around her. A tall metallic spire with a tangle of tunnels snaking out from it. A long, wide, blue and glassy pedestal she was standing on – a stage with the time gate as the backdrop. Sparkling, winking screens and keyboards dotted the wings, making electric constellations with their flashes. And there was a crowd for the show.

The harsh winds of the void in the gate made the curved row of troopers ripple. But with their comrades pinning her, their eyes weren’t locked on White Rabbit. Instead, their gazes were drawn to a sight that made Rabbit’s brain short-circuit.

Sainne kneeled on the stage, glaring up at Sainne, who stood behind his lackeys at the platform’s edge.

The twinned image twisted her gut into knots. Her revelation hadn’t been a glimpse at the truth. It had been a sign. And now she had unraveled completely. She slumped in the hands of her captors, defeated.

***

Sainne’s eyes tracked the scene, darting around with frenetic energy. A semi-circle of soldiers – his soldiers – encircling him, locked and loaded. Getting a bead on him. And looming large behind the row was his counterpart.

“The bonds of trust are so fragile, aren’t they?” Sainne’s mirror image tsked while the whirlwind of the rabbit hole still cut through the air sharply. Only moments before had it disgorged him.

Somewhere the math has slipped. His pinpoint strike at the balance of fate hadn’t been as dialed in as he had thought. His otherworld doppelganger had clued in to it all without so much as a smoke signal. Impressive and terrible. All the worse because of the den they had landed in.

“What did you give Black Skull?” Sainne finally asked of his younger self, recognizing the cathedral of technology as belonging to that other Anarak.

“Touching, your concern,” was the sardonic reply. “Perhaps if you hadn’t tried this little treachery, no concessions would need to have been made.”

Sainne clocked the incoming spiel. His familiar trait now on display to himself – a grating soliloquy to needle the listener and satisfy the speaker.

But just as the younger Anarak was revving up for the verbal assault, the rabbit hole belched and spasmed again. The whirling winds spat out a most unwelcome pest – the little rabbit who had been nearly biting at his heels. In a flash, the troopers leapt into motion. They seized the Omega agent, wrestling her to the ground. Her obviously dazed consciousness sucking out any fight she could have put up.

An irritant. But a piece on the board.

The younger Sainne cleared his throat. “Well, we have an uninvited guest. I’m sure she has plenty to offer for dropping by unannounced. But we can take her housewarming gift after matters here are settled. I was hardly finished, after all.”

Now the gloating Anarak twisted his face back into its self-serious and dour expression. As if to underscore the change in mood, the time gate wound down its eccentric tornado. The rabbit hole closed with a fading silky hiss, leaving a hollow silence in the air, ready to be filled by the other Sainne’s monologue.

“It is particularly irksome to have trained myself diligently not to consider this very tantalizing dilemma, only to find my future self to have so easily dismissed this necessary paradox.”

This version of himself was stating the obvious, the elder Sainne considered. A heavy point, sure, but it was hardly mind-blowing. Sainne understood totally the principle of dutiful unpreparedness. Any Sainne had to grasp the possibility of dropping down a rabbit hole and coming face-to-face with his younger self. Any prep he set up to defend himself against an arrival from the future would also be an obstacle should he have to be the one arriving from a more advanced meta-timeline.

Of course, the two Sainnes could still jockey for position, but to what end? Both would have to seek allies, make concessions, sacrifice time in the process. The inevitable calculus pointed to one conclusion – if only one Sainne could live (and only one could) then it only followed that a quick and direct contest between the two would yield the greatest profit for he who survived. And since every Sainne intended to be the victor, this was a most acceptable scenario.

Usually.

Sainne knew full well he had broken the cycle by trying to sidestep this arrangement. And he understood that the spoils of victory had been whittled down ever so slightly. But bile still built up in his throat, and he had scorn to spew at his mirrored form.

“You speak of necessity before knowledge,” he accused. “Your paranoia drove you to make these concessions, not my actions. Or so I would assume if you weren’t me. I know that I never broke faith while on my meta-timeline. I never sold out to an Anarak on the off-chance that one of ourselves would reach out from a rabbit hole and plant a knife in my back.”

“Then it is fortunate for myself that you chose the proper moment to stimulate my analytical prowess,” the younger Sainne replied coolly. He was utterly unperturbed by the verbal thorns.

But then he paused. He narrowed his eyes. A thought seemed to occur to him.

“You’re wondering how this happened, aren’t you?” he asked softly to the other. It was clear by the quiet awe in his tone that he had stumbled onto something more than the other Sainne’s obvious probing.

“You think something is wrong with time itself,” he concluded.

Sainne’s eyes bored into his younger self’s gaze, trying to burn an answer out of him. But a slight one-sided smile slipping onto the standing Anarak’s face was the only response he got, until, “Have you made a jump before?”

Sainne scowled. The stacking of humiliations was unbearable.

“I suppose I admire the tenacity,” the other Sainne mused contemptuously. “Obviously, I would have done the same. I confess it’s rather sickening to see myself pant and glance around like a trapped beast. A cruel reminder that my own thread of our consciousness will either have to be cut, or see through to our ultimate victory.”

“It is near. I almost had it. I can—”

“I look forward to experiencing it,” the triumphant Sainne cut the obvious bait short. “But you know the arrangement. There are no deals to be made between us. The time gate network will only insure against a single Sainne consciousness, and I have my own form of our interests to look after.”

“We could—”

“I know myself too well for that suggestion. Why would you try it?”

Sainne’s mind still rebelled at the lies this twisted reflection offered. His plan had been perfect. Perfectly timed, perfectly considered. He knew his own mind, he knew how he had thought. This man was not his past self, he knew his past self!

But he made an effort to leash the building primeval fury. The vicious instincts would be fed, he tried to assure himself. Time. Time is my ally, even in a situation like this. With a tremendous effort, he pulled himself together enough to keep up with the other’s beat. To seem to dance to his twisted tune.

“Yes, well, it was rather beneath me,” he professed. “But you still have not answered my questions. First, if this is no trick of time, how did you anticipate my move?”

“Perhaps you haven’t experienced it,” came the beginnings of an answer. Another long musing would follow. Sainne stacked his options like a gambler weighing his last hand.

“The wait between the time gates blacking out and a rabbit hole forming is a particularly harrowing time,” the younger Sainne went on, pacing back and forth as if the mere memory were an irritation. “There is little to do but sit and wonder. When it forms, will it disgorge one of our rabbits? Or Time Peace’s? And if ours, will it be my counterpart? Will he uphold our arrangement? Or will the temptation be too great? What would he do if he wanted to assure his ascendancy? What would I do?”

He stopped in front of his soldiers, and if he were on a string suddenly pulled taut, stiffened his spine until he was ram-rod straight. The words he spoke next could have been a taunt if it weren’t for his serious tone. “From there, it is a simple analysis of which Anarak to bargain with. Obviously not Khina, nor many of the minor powers. Zhao’s too careful, and the other players aren’t quite in the optimal position at this point in time. This point you chose. Except for some obvious decoys. But the Black Skull? Why, someone from the future might have disproportionate influence on our withered compatriot. Perchance did you think to promise undiluted secrets of future innovations?”

Had this false counterpart somehow Presciess’s gift? Best to play along, the elder Sainne decided. He had staked out his options, and he didn’t like either.

“Your insight is astounding,” he remarked sarcastically. Then confessed, “You’ve discovered my playbook, now show me yours. It is of no harm at this point. Either I will die soon enough, or the last Sainne standing will benefit by your strategic analysis, and understanding his new position.”

“Conspicuous use of the third person aside, I find our thoughts are unsurprisingly aligned,” the other remarked. “The trade was simple. A thorough examination of the Talhesian Torture Device.”

The trapped Sainne grimaced.

Instantly, the younger said, “I remind you that your choices have only affirmed the necessity of my precaution. Don’t blame me that this card has been played, and can never be played again.”

Finally, Sainne picked himself up and out of his melancholy to fully face the native Director from this meta-timeline.

“Very well,” he said, “should I emerge victorious, it will be a reminder of the fruitlessness of my efforts.”

“A cost that this arrangement was intended to avoid,” the other needled.

“I concede on all points,” Sainne replied with a bow. “Now I expect that you are more than prepared for the duel. I ask for terms, but recognize I may not have grounds for such favor, given the circumstances.”

“I’ll hear the request. Honoring this agreement, despite your actions, is necessary for my own peace of mind, and my possible future endeavors.”

Surprised, but encouraged, the elder Sainne swiftly explained, “My own device no longer functions properly. I had to modify it in order to escape Time Peace pursuit. I merely request an equal set of arms.”

“Pistols and no devices?” the other considered. “A minor concession to ask. Quite acceptable, particularly in light of the fact that it was used as part of your escape rather than as part of your treachery. A fact I am taking on faith, I should note.”

“Then it is agreed,” the elder declared rather than asked. He took out the device, careful to hold it so it didn’t track as a threat.

The native Sainne nodded, and almost to himself, muttered, “As I said, I may one day find myself in a new meta-timeline, and so must act in accordance to how I would like the Sainne who greets me to behave.”

He turned his back, striding towards one of the few men who didn’t sidle away – clearing themselves from the likely lines of fire about to be drawn. But even as the soldiers shuffled about, they made no move to fly out of the chamber. Their hard gazes and growing anticipation thickened the air,

As the younger Sainne took a piece from the one soldier who hadn’t yet cleared the way, he said more clearly, “Then again, you broke the terms. Perhaps it is all the more necessary then to take a different path.”

He turned to his elder form, only one pistol in hand.

“To discourage my alternate selves from attempting such a circumvention again.”

“You will be using a device then?” the elder Sainne asked.

“You know better than that.”

And indeed he did. Before his counterpart had raised the pistol at him, Sainne had sprang into action.

***

The prolonged conversation did little to convince White Rabbit that she hadn’t cracked. At least not at first. But as the two Sainne’s tossed barbs back and forth, a picture crystalized in her thoughts. Crooked, twisted, but coherent. Two Sainnes writhing and wrestling for control over their piece of Anarakia. A cannibalistic pledge to stem the hemorrhage in the confrontation. The reason there was only one white rabbit Anarak on every meta-timeline.

And if she had her mind, she could make a move. Sure, she was boxed in now, but she might still get a shot. She could go on. No, she would go on. White Rabbit was unkillable. This was only one pulse in the great endless loop. She just had to finish her cycle and deliver her message.

She keyed herself up. She needed the moment.

And then it happened.

The Sainne she had pursued took out his Talhesian Torture Device. He held it to the side, as if to hand it off to one of the waiting troopers. But before the corresponding man could take it, the younger had turned with his piece. The betrayal had come.

Unfortunately for the younger Sainne, it was not his that was successful. With a single flick of a finger, a blinding flash seared itself across half the room. And as Sainne leapt for the attack, so did White Rabbit.

…

END TRANSMISSION