Past Tense

                            By:

                         Fox Cutter

03/05/99:

The one thing I hate about a waiting room is the waiting
part. Sure, I guess everyone does, but anymore I have so
little free time that waiting around for someone was a pain.

It had to be done, though. Personally I think a doctor being
able to see a patient at the time of their appointment might
be one of the signs of the apocalypse. Either way, I was
already ten minutes behind schedule to see my doctor.

I wasn't sure if he was the best choice for this matter, but
I didn't know who to ask other than Ken, and he didn't have
much of a clue. So that left it up to my doctor. Maybe I
would come away with some information, or at least a
referral to someone else's waiting room that I could sit in.

"Mr. Cutter," The nurse manning the waiting room said,
"Doctor Holderman will see you now."

I nodded, standing up and following her into the Doctor's
office. She had me take a seat, then left quickly. I went
back to waiting again, at least this time in some comfort.
When I had made this appointment I made it clear I wasn't in
need of a check-up, I just needed to talk.

Doctor Holderman arrived a few minutes later. A middle aged
human, he had been my doctor since I returned from my Exile.
My old doctor had retired during that time, and left the
practice to him.

"Hello, Fox," he said, trying to sound pleasant, "What
brings you here today?"

I shifted in my chair as he walked around his desk. Sitting
down on the far side. He laid his hands flat on the desk's
top, one finger tapping softly.

"Just a small concern; I was wondering about my diet. With
the curse and everything, my form isn't exactly human
anymore. My wife was wondering if I needed anything
different than I did before, as a pure human." Boy, that
whole statement sounded strange.

He nodded, humming softly as he folded his hands on top of
the desk. "You understand I can't give you a complete answer
in that regard. I will need to recommend you to a dietitian
for that. I can do some preliminary work, produce a profile
for you to take with you. That will allow whoever you see to
make a better decision."

I smiled. "Thanks, that will be great. How long would it
take to do that work?"

"About an hour, maybe more. I'll have to generate a
nutrition profile based on you, before and after the curse,
and your wife, as a sample of the species. I'll get one of
my assistants to start putting things together."

"All right. I was also wondering if, while I'm waiting, I
may have access to your medical database? I need to look
some things up and what's available to the public doesn't
provide enough information."

"What are you interested in?" he asked, leaning forward with
sudden interest.

"I'm trying to find some information out about species that
can be telepathic with a natural," I answered, all though
that was only the start of what I wanted to look for.

"Be my guest," he answered with a smile, tapping a few
buttons that were embedded into the top of his desk. The
surface shifted, and a console rose up to rest on the desk
top. He typed in a few commands before rising from his
chair.

"You have access to my database. It's on my account, so
don't go anywhere you shouldn't be," he cautioned.

I nodded, standing up as he walked to the door. I was a bit
surprised at his willingness to allow me to use his access
account. I'm pretty sure such a thing wasn't something that
was routinely done. We weren't friends or anything, so there
was no reason to trust me outright. Unless he believed most
of my press, which even I didn't believe.

"Thank you Doctor," I said as he opened the door.

"Don't mention it Fox," he said with a smile, and maybe a
wink, before he left the room.

Shaking my head in wonder, and still a bit surprised, I
walked around his desk, and plopped myself into his chair. I
was presented with a simple database access screen. Nothing
too fancy or elaborate.

As my first request, I asked it for a list of all known
species that could be telepathic with a natural. The screen
displayed a processing sign, and a notice that the current
load on the database was heavy and my request might take
some time.

Sitting back in the chair, I relaxed slightly. I wasn't even
sure what I was looking for here. I just had the glimmer of
an idea of a possibility of something to try, without even
knowing if, let alone how, it could be done.

If it worked, though... well, it would be a very good thing
for most of the family.

Gingerly I rubbed the top of my head. I had a pair of sore
spots up there, set almost asymmetrically about two inches
above my hair line. They had bothered me before, off and on,
for a few months now, but had never actually become annoying
enough for me to do anything about them.

The computer played a short sonnet to me, indicating that my
search had finished. It had come up with a list of forty-two
species, out of over a hundred thousand known. This was
about as far as I had gotten before I ran into the limits of
the public databases.

I took what I already had, and set it to search for some of
the telepathic abilities I was looking for. It ranged from
something as simple as reading a memory, to the ability to
perform a mind swap, and many, many things in between. All
in all, I had a list of almost thirty different powers.

Relaxing back into my seat, I watched as my request was
processed. Once again with I got warning about the load on
the system. I was just starting to become annoyed that I had
brought a book, when there came a knock on the door. A very
soft, almost shy knock, hard to hear without straining my
ears a bit. "Yes?" I called, moving to the side of the desk,
giving myself a clearer view of the door.

The door cracked open, and a small muzzle peeked inside the
room. "Mister Cutter?" a shy voice asked, whiskers
twitching.

"That would be me," I answered, not sure exactly how to deal
with a person that seemed to be a fan of mine.

The muzzle turned into a face as she stepped inside the
room. It belong to a young female mouse-morph. She was
wearing a tan dress that was quite pleasing to the eye on
her. She had long hair, which was bunched up in a bun on her
head, and braided decoratively around her ears. She twitched
her whiskers as she saw me, steeping all the way into the
room. "Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering if I might bother
you for a moment."

"Sure," I said with a shrug.

She walked over with a few short brisk steps, her tail
moving to keep her balance. "I work in the records room
here, and was wondering if you would sign off on some of the
old records. So we can remove them from our files?"

I blinked, smiling slightly. I hadn't expect this to be such
a formal request. From the way she approached me I had
expected something more. Oh well, they can't all be fans.
Come to think of it, few are.

"Sure," I said, offering my hand.

She passed me a PADD, dropping it into my hand instead of
setting it. "It's the medical records of Rebecca Sanders.
You're the only one listed to contact, so you're the only
one who can authorize us to remove the file."

I frowned slightly, looking at the screen of the PADD.
Another memory of Becky, just from out of the blue. Somehow
though, the fact that I was holding some documents that for
a few people summed up her life, made me feel a bit sad.

"I suppose so," I said, picking up a pen off the desk, and
scrolling the PADD down to the proper place to sign. Setting
the pen to the screen, I was surprised by the length of the
file. It was in the small print near the top of the screen,
but the page count seemed quite large. Signing it, I looked
up at my guest. "This seems pretty full for just a few
checkups and a translator implant."

She looked a bit startled, taking the PADD from me as I
offered it back to her. "There's more than a few checkups
involved," she answered, looking down at the screen.

"Can I see her file?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.
Something was starting to seem very wrong here. "If I just
approved it to be destroyed, I don't think there would be
any problems with my having a copy."

She cocked her head to one side, staring at me slowly,
blinking a bit. "I can't see how it could do any harm," she
told me, pressing a few buttons on the PADD. "It's loaded
up," she said, handing it back. "Look it over, and leave it
on the desk when you're done."

I nodded as I took it from her. "Thank you," I told her. I
wasn't quite sure if I should be doing this, nor quite sure
what I would soon find.

She smiled. "You're welcome," she told me, the shyness she
had first shown me now gone as she quickly left the room,
her tail flicking behind her as she stepped through the
doorway.

I did a quick check on my search, it was still chugging away
at the data, with the notice that the load on the database
was even greater than when I had started.

I started reading the text on the PADD. The first few pages
were pretty much what I had expected. A physical, some
reports on how she placed within the general ranking of
humans, her translator implant. Exactly what one would
expect to see in most anyone's medical records.

But right after that, things started to become strange. The
first entry in the file was dated, Earth time, October 15th,
1994. I actually remembered that day, uneventful as it was.
Becky and I had just came back home, and she started
coughing a bit. She had a cold a few days before, so this
wasn't anything to worry about. She said that she needed to
go back to Prid for some reason she didn't tell me. It
looked like she went right to the doctor for an emergency
visit.

From what I understood about what I was reading, she had
complained about a shortness of breath, and had mentioned
that every time that she exhaled, she found it sweet
smelling. The shortness kept getting worse, as if with each
breath she took, she got less air. The doctor took a sample
of the air she was exhaling, and a tissue sample of her
lung.

The result was listed as a 'Carife' infection of her lungs.
I didn't have a clue what that was, but I was immediately
worried. Quickly I pulled up a new search screen, putting in
the name of this infection, and getting back a speedy
result.

Carife was an isolated bacteria that lived in some of the
mucus membranes of different creatures. It wasn't a problem
in its own environment, where it was almost parasitic, but
did no real harm. In some environments, thought, the air
could cause it to react, inflaming the lungs to the point
that they closed off. There was a medication for this
effect, but it was just a treatment, and the effect of the
inflammation of this bacteria scarred the lungs.

This wasn't reading right. This was bad, and I didn't like
where it was going. If the file was correct, if Becky had
this infection, and was taking the medication for it, she
would only have had a few months before her lungs would be
so scarred she couldn't breath.

On to the next record. Becky had brought in an air sample
from Earth, they had analyzed it against the infection, and
found what I guess everyone already knew, something in
Earth's air was causing the inflammation. Not the pollution,
which was my first guess (and the doctor's, according to the
file), it was something about the nitrogen to oxygen mix.

That would explain why she almost never left Prid before we
were exiled. I moved onto the next record, it was a checkup,
as was the next, and the next. I skimmed over the rest of
file, it was just checkups, three a week. The last one was
just hours before we were exiled.

She still had the infection, she could have only brought a
month or two of the medication with her, and there was no
way it would have gone into remission in that time. Even if
she had enough, her lungs would have just stopped mid-March
of '95.

Jesus Christ... She had suggested, right after our almost
hour long trial, hours before we had been exiled, that we
switch with bio-drones. Now that made a bit more sense, I
was beginning to suspect she actually did that. Replaced
herself with a bio-drone. That would explain why she had
been living in the cave under the old house; she was trying
to hide.

That didn't parse though, bio-drones didn't mimic a person
well for more than a few days, a month at most. We had been
close enough that any major change that a bio-drone like
that would have introduced I would have noticed almost
immediately.

Ok, so let's work this out. She couldn't have gone back to
Earth with me, she also couldn't have replaced herself with
a bio-drone. Anyway, where and when would she have had the
time. We were under constant guard from the time we had been
arrested to when we had been exiled. It had been a fast
hearing, true, but we had not been alone. Expect for perhaps
during that last checkup.

Worst-case scenario here. Lets assume I was right, that when
I was on Draz's world, when I saw that flash of the
pantheress, saw her as Becky, let's assume that wasn't a
delusion, that it was real. That the pantheress REALLY was
Becky.

That might explain a lot... now, we know that the
pantheress, Becky, was working in the R&D lab that was
involved with that new bio-drone, in fact she even stole
one. It was suppose to fix the problems with the old style
of bio-drone. Perhaps... perhaps... damn it, I was almost
onto something and I wasn't sure what.

Let's move to a different try at this. Assuming that Becky
is the pantheress, she had to have something to do with The
Neverending. The Neverending had brought the Wyrm for me to
fight, and Jadith to save my life, or at least I suspected
the last part.

It could not have know that I would need her help to save my
life. At least not until I already needed it, but she had
been there for longer than I had needed her. That implied
what, time travel?

They had found the same type of soot on Jadith's clothing
that had covered the floor of the R&D lab, which connected
the two incidents. Ok, assuming that it was time travel,
maybe the soot had something to do it. What else does that
imply. Well, the bio-drone that was made in the R&D lab was
time traveled out with Becky. Now, if it worked as planned,
maybe... maybe they made a bio-drone of Becky in that tank.

So let's put this together. Becky couldn't go back to Earth,
so she what... turned to the Neverending to save her. It
pulled her out of there, time traveling back a bio-drone to
replace her. Was her death planned? Was the bio-drone always
meant to die? Some how that didn't seem right, it just
seemed wrong in that fashion.

From there, what, she lived in the cave under the old house.
We can deal with that. So, when I was on Draz's world, the
Neverending sent the Wyrm to test me, perhaps even Jadith,
but that could have been what Becky yelled out in the cave.

Assuming of course that I'm right about all of this.

From there, she was involved with the R&D labs, using the
'unused' tube to make her own bio-drone, sending it back in
time. That would explain the pawprints in the soot. The body
went back, and she was picked up there as well.

How to prove this though... Well... assuming there was time
travel involved before we were exiled, there would have to
be some evidence of it. The soot for one, but would that
even be traceable? Would it be on a record I could find?

So how to check for soot? If there wasn't a record of it,
the only way to find anything about it would be to... go
back and check it myself?

I can't do that though, I mean, I don't have time travel in
that fashion... but the kids do!

Checking my watch, I scratched down the time on a notepad.
What I needed to do was send the kids back in time. Have
them find out about the soot. Have them check the rooms
Becky and I were held in, and bring back a soot sample.

Taking a breath, and praying this would work, I held out my
hand to the side. There was something of a 'whoosh' of air,
and I felt a glass tube set into my palm. Looking up I saw
Romana standing over me, smiling, before she blinked out
again.

"Ok," I muttered, "That was surreal."

I flipped the tube over in my fingers, and held it up to the
light. It was half filled with soot, and a few carpet
fibers. I could test it, find out if it matched the other
soot samples, but I knew what the answer would be.

Becky was alive, alive and still running around the
multi-verse with this Neverending. It made some sort of
sense though. When the unicorn, had told me about the
Neverending, she also told me it had saved her life at the
cost of her service. That would be the same arrangement that
Becky would have.

So, how was I going to find Becky, or perhaps I should find
the Neverending first, or the unicorn for that matter. There
were so many things to possibly do. Perhaps... perhaps I
should just wait. I had passed its test, so it stands to
reason that whatever it was testing me for, I would be
called upon to do, hopefully soon.

Depending on how you define soon.

Sighing, I slipped the tube of soot into my pocket. I would
take it to... well someone, to have it analyzed. Eliza-- she
was suppose to take over from Page. Not that we had called
on her, or even thought about her.

The computer played another sonnet at me. Glancing at the
screen, I realized that it was trying to tell me my search
was finished. Probably had been for a while. Setting the
PADD with Becky's records down on the desk, I returned to
the screen. Such concerns would be for later.

Pulling up the result of my search, I found only three
species that had the telepathic abilities I suspected I
would need. I took that information, and pulled up any
members of those species, with said powers, working for the
Council or Consortium.

This search only took a few seconds, and came back with a
single response: a Vari female. The species name didn't ring
a bell to me, but apparently she was very heavily
telepathic, and could do some of the tricks I was suspecting
that I would need.

She herself didn't work for the Consortium, but her husband
did. His name was N'taki, of the 'Green Island Clan'. I let
out a laugh! I knew this lemur, he was the doctor who ran
the R&D lab that Becky stole the bio-drone from.

The irony was perfect, but there was an added benefit to
this. If all went well, his equipment would come in handy. I
just needed to know if he could clone a body with a mind.

We would have to see, we would definitely have to see, about
so many things.

-----

This story is (c) 1999 by Fox Cutter, hardcopy reprints
limited to one per person, all other rights reserved. This
story may not be distributed for a fee except by permission
of the author, and this copyright notice may not be removed.