“Where is she going now, all dressed up like that?”
“You mean, “when”, don’t you, Killer?”
“Yeah, Punkmeister, she’s dressed for time. She fixes everyone’s mistakes, right? Like she never screwed up….”
“Shut up you mealy sack of worms. She knows what she’s doing. Dragged me out of that mess, didn’t she? Quiet, here she comes.”
“Well, if it isn’t the roadkill twins. Who let you out of the sandbox today? Either of you have a note from mommy test tube?”
“They’re using petri dishes now, Dr. Brainiac.”
“Again? They tried that before and ended up with the likes of you delinquents. You two are beneath imagination…you know, I can send you back to the beginning.”
“You can’t send us back to first year. That would be totally outside your purview, Trinity.”
“I meant the beginning of time.”
With that said, Trinity Balantine spun on her heel and sacheted towards the Time Vault–the adolescent girls visibly shaken. They knew Trinity didn’t make idle threats when it came to “glass babies”–those who were grown in the labs. Many did not consider them to be real members of the human race, which had yet to be addressed by the Consilatore da Vinci. Though the Consilatore was cloned from the Master’s DNA, the human status of a clone was unimpeachable. The children grown in the underground labs of Times Square were utilized in the time trials involving safety and navigation. They were time’s guinea pigs. Those who survived the trials to adulthood, won self-determination and the support of the community for life. Glass babies suffered high mortality rates. This had been so for decades and was accepted by society as unchangeable.
Many SaT class females (science and technology) utilized surrogates who were implanted with their fertilized eggs. This generated a privileged class of surrogate females. There were other classes specially designed to deal with the problems generated by the onset of the new ice age, as one could well imagine. Because of the effects of the ice age, two-thirds of the world’s population succumbed to the ravages of the environment and the deficiencies and inabilities of their governments to help their citizens. The attic virus, so named because many city dwellers took up residence in the attics of large buildings–often the only part of the building above the snow line–was responsible for decimating one-third of the world’s population that first decade of nearly continuous snowfall, subzero temperatures and the steady freezing of the earth’s oceans and other bodies of water.
Trinity Balantine waited for Killer to catch up with her at the Vault. Together they walked into the Time Vault’s operations cell where a tekke inoculated them. Trinity and the glass baby swiped their fingertips over the deprinter, giving them blank fingertips for the mission. Both the traveler and her navigator entered the phase chamber and each took her seat at one of the conjoined pods. Killer programmed the time definition and spoke into her chin com to Trinity:
“Traveler, enter your time stamp, on my mark….”
Each touched her screen with her thumb, which brought up the unique symbol at the same instant, only Trinity recognized too late that her’s was wrong. It was her old time stamp–her stamp from a time that seemed like ancient history. She could hear herself screaming Killer’s name as her body slammed back into the contours of the seat as a virtual webbing wrapped around her. The damn webbing wouldn’t let her hand through to hit the ABORT and the comp would not acknowledge her sub-vocalizations. Everything blurred and nothing felt right. Trinity had no idea if she would survive her arrival or even if she would have a destination. She tried turning her head to see if Killer’s pod was with her in the SNAKE, the time-space current, but the T-force was too strong.
It had to be sabotage and it had to be Killer who committed it. If Trinity survived she vowed to hunt her down and terminate her. Of all the people to screw with, Trinity thought she would be the last. So be it. Trinity’s old name was “Ice Girl”–the most successful of the glass babies and the most brilliant. Her identity was a long-kept secret only a few knew and wished they didn’t. She would make sure Killer understood who she screwed with before Trinity killed her.
Inspiration Monday: Dressed for Time
Prompts: Dressed for time, Beneath imagination, blank fingertips, Attic virus, Unchangeable
Word Count: 727
Photo Credit: Unk
Thanks so much to the lovely Stephanie Orges for hosting Inspiration Monday at Be Kind Rewrite