Chapter 18: Lab Rat
Stanley was glad to be out of the Ministry's clutches. However, he wasn't keen on being a lab specimen for a bunch of overly-eager academics. That was exactly how he felt but that wasn't how the techs and scientists who'd been poking and prodding him since morning saw him. He was a freak for sure, but a good kind of freak. In fact, it was sounding as if, for once, he was exceedingly good at something. Handling the biological rigors of time travel apparently was his thing. Of course, being "good" at something like that was nothing more than dumb genetic luck and not something he'd had a say in.
The numerous verbal accolades Stanley received for the past six hours began to tire him. Still, he did take comfort in knowing his wife and kids were having fun. Maria was being pampered at the Institute gym and athletic facility with a spa and sauna treatment while the kids were playing paintball, with Director Maddy Wilheim of all people. He knew they were enjoying themselves, which in turn made him smile. Just as he was drifting off thinking about their happy adventures, he was stuck with yet another probing needle.
"Ouch, watch that!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry, Mr. Dial," said one of the countless techs who'd pinched, prodded, and poked him throughout the day.
"Any idea when we'll be done here? I'm very tired and very hungry."
Phil Battiste, the British research physician in charge, promptly replied, "Very soon, Mr. Dial, very soon."
Stanley rolled his eyes. He'd heard that reply several times already and now he suspected some sarcasm in the repetitive use of the word "very".
"You truly are an extraordinary man, Mr. Dial. Normally the rigors of time travel exhibit significant adverse effects on the autoimmune system, hormone levels, synaptic responses, and pulmonary performance. You, sir, exhibit nothing of the sort. It appears as if you didn't travel at all! Truly brilliant! But I am still struggling with, how is any of this possible?"
Stanley rolled his eyes again and shook his head. "Seriously? You're asking me how this can be possible? How the heck should I know? You're the doctor and so-called time travel physiology expert."
Before Dr. Battiste could reply, yet another nerdy-looking young intern began ushering Stanley into what looked like a reclining medical chair.
"We need to remove the optical device," she said.
"What are you talking about?"
"You've had a very small and very well-disguised retinal recording implant in your left eye for the past five days."
Stanley stared at her. "Wait. What?"
"The device has recorded everything you've seen and experienced before and after the Jump. As you know, you were on an alternate timeline. We haven't attempted that before, so we needed to record what you saw and then compare that record with your baseline experience."
"What's your name?" he asked impatiently.
"Lynn. My name is Lynn Wilde."
"Look, Ms. Wilde, I'm no scientist. Truth be known, I hated math even as a little kid. I can't tell my children that, but it's true. Can you and the others here keep things simple for folks like me with inferior brains?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dial," she said with a soft smile.
Genuine curiosity overtook Stanley's grumpiness so he decided to play nice...for now. "Please...call me Stanley."
"OK, sure." Her smile grew a little wider. "I'm sorry, Stanley, let me try that again. When people normally think of time travel or 'Jumps' as they're commonly known, the perception is that there's a single timeline and that you're jumping forward into that timeline's future. Most of the time, that assumption is correct, and that's exactly how the Ministry operates. They typically conduct small time-step Jumps of a couple of days or a week or two at most. We, however, operate very differently. We're trying to stretch the science far beyond simple temporal drift."
"There you go again!" quipped Stanley.
"I am sorry, I just can't help it. We don't do much public outreach on this."
"I'm sure you don't." Stanley started to feel bad. Lynn was just a young kid doing her job and trying to be nice. The least he could do was return her smile. "I apologize, please continue."
"Well, I really should let some of the more senior people here describe the intricacies to—"
"No! No way. Don't. That's the last thing I want. You are young and won't sugar-coat it. I want to know what's going on in simple terms from someone who hasn't been corrupted yet."
Her smile turned awkward, somewhat forced. "Well, all indications suggest that the Ministry's use of time travel is to control the path of the future by minimizing the uncertainty of the present."
Before he could interrupt her again, she continued.
"What I mean is that the Ministry almost exclusively conducts short-term Jumps into the future with operatives called Sweepers. The Sweeper's job is to canvas a few days out from now to see if anything 'bad' happens. For the majority of these brief Jumps, nothing of consequence is found. However, on occasion, a so-called 'undesirable anomaly' is detected which then requires a follow-on effort to 'neutralize' the initiating threat in the present."
O-K... Stanley lifted a brow, I kinda get it, but not entirely... "What kind of 'anomalies' are you talking about and how can you 'neutralize' them?"
"Well, now you're venturing well beyond my expertise and into the realm of socio-economic numeric modeling. I'm sure you'll interact with others here who'll be able to tell you more than you ever cared to know about the subject." She continued strapping him firmly into the medical harness. "From my very basic understanding, and to put it as simply as I can, the Ministry is looking for any signs of political, social or economic instability or unrest in the short-term future that, with some level of manipulation in the present, can be effectively eliminated so as to indefinitely maintain today's status quo. When they find anything or anyone that has, or even could have, some sort of tangible effect on altering the current path we're all experiencing, that factor, or person or groups of people are then 'neutralized' in the present," she said with air quotes. "By continually doing this, you significantly reduce the variability associated with future social, political, and economic possible outcomes.
"They're doing this all the time?" Stanley asked incredulously.
"Yes, they are," she responded. "And with enough Sweepers in play, there really can only be one possible future outcome...more of the same. Unfortunately, the Ministry's obsession to maintain absolute control extends to the Sweepers themselves. The psychological screening and never-ending surveillance they're forced to endure is nothing short of torturous. By effectively removing the temptation of personal gain, the Ministry eliminates the possibility of agent compromise from external forces who would kill for access to information from the future. It is one reason why every Sweeper must endure endless painful surgical procedures to accommodate a myriad of ever-changing technology designed to accurately record every second of every Jump. It's also why every Sweeper must actively seek out and report all million dollar casino and lottery winners. Every Jumper knows he or she is being recorded or watched every minute of every day. It's enough to keep 99.9% of them in line and under the iron fist of Ministry control."
"Wow, sounds like being a Sweeper is worse than being in Jail. And a lot of work. Is it really worth it?"
"Funny you should say that, Stanley. Many Sweeper 'recruits' were originally ex-prisoners. Most of them have no leverage over their situation and very few other options in play. As for being worth it, well, the Ministry has a lot to lose. We believe that their overarching goal is to keep themselves and the super-rich who finance this perpetual operation in power...forever. The most insidious part of all this is that almost no one knows how efficiently human beings on this planet have been, and are continuing to be, completely manipulated."
Wow, and here I'm complaining about one measly implant. Stanley shook his head in disbelief.
He wanted to hear more. "So what are you all doing to stop this craziness?"
Lynn laughed as she secured the final straps across his abdomen and arms, shoulders, and forehead, which had the effect of completely immobilizing him in the recliner. "We sent you, Stanley Dial, into the future and back again!"
"Me? I went on a scout mission and followed it up with a failed gambling junket."
As she began guiding the Terminator-esque microprobe closer to his left eye, Stanley got nervous and tried to press himself deeper into the chair, as far away from that thing as possible. It wasn't possible.
"Stay calm, still and count to three," she said. "This will be no different than an annual visit to the eye doctor. Just look straight ahead. The eyelid restraints won't let you blink so don't freak out when your mind tells you to blink and you can't."
Despite her words, he still instinctively tried to blink as the contraption continued to close in on his left eye. With literally no choice in the matter, he meekly succumbed to the situation. "One, two..."
Snip!
Amazed that it was over in an instant, Stanley stared at the sadist device Lynn briefly suspended in front of his left eye. Even better, he hadn't felt a thing. It was as if she'd blew a soft, tiny kiss directly into his eye.
"See," she said. "That wasn't too bad now was it?"
"No... I guess not. But you're not getting off that easily. I've been here close to seven hours and I'm dead tired and starving but I still need more answers."
Before Lynn Wilde could respond, Director Wilheim entered the lab with all of the Dials in tow. Lauren was covered in a rainbow collage of paint. She received more than a few looks from the various techs scurrying about but didn't seem to care. None of them did. Stanley wished he'd been with them. He loved paintball. Even Maria who was a few steps behind had a nice gold paint streak in her hair.
"Nice look, honey, was that a spa special?" Stanley called out, still strapped into the chair.
Maria just gave him a tired smile as they walked towards him.
Lauren stared at him with a look of confused concern. "Daddy, are you hurt? Why can't you move?"
Lynn quickly unlatched Stanley and, within a few seconds, Lauren jumped into his lap. Well, he chuckled, he'd wanted to join them paintballing. Now he'd done so. Purple paint on tan pants...Not bad. Feeling mischievous, Stanley grinned, grabbed a hold of his daughter, and tickled her all over until she fake-begged him to stop. Her squeals lit up the entire room.
That was more than enough for him. A great way to finish the day.