Forgotten Time

Time doesn’t move here. Oh, we have days. But they’re like one long, giant yawn stretching over what you may call “weeks” on other planets. This means a lot can happen in a day. It also means you can clock 60 hours of work in a day – Fridays are not quite such a joyous thing around here. But oh, the weekend. A glorious stretch of frozen time, spanning hours and hours and just running along forever and ever. We relish in those here on our little green planet. We pack picnics that last an entire day, take extended trips to the beach when the day is sunny, and row our kayaks in the waves when the waters are not too choppy.

Our day is based on a 250-hour time span, so our clocks look a little bit different and our watches are divided into 20 hour increments. We work in shifts; taking breaks as needed for rest (our rest time is really like a long nap), returning to work again and again on subsequent shifts, all within the same day.

It was during the 20^th hour this past Monday that I first noticed something wasn’t quite right. Our small planet stays pretty warm all year round, particularly because we get a lot of daylight hours. I was waking up from my first nap of the day when I noticed a strange shadow on the bright blue walls of my small bedroom. At first I thought maybe my cousin Gertie had let our dog Lucy out into the yard, but when I didn’t hear barking, I got up to investigate further, throwing my long brown hair into a ponytail.

I padded over to the bedroom window and pulled back the thin white muslin curtain, immediately noticing an odd spacecraft hovering in the sky, much larger than our standard hover planes. It had a rectangular shape and was big enough that it covered the length of the 5 dirt roads it took to get into the main part of town.  It was shiny and black and it wasn’t really moving, just kind of sitting there, which was odd for an interplanetary observer.

Civilization on our planet has been around a long while, and of course we’ve had our galactical issues – other planets are curious about how we divide time and often come to watch us or “observe” our practices. Most are here for a few weeks, jetting in on their fancy spaceships, jotting things down in their small leather-bound notebooks and wearing expensive looking blazers and crisply tailored pants, and then they leave. Most of them live a peaceful existence, but not all of them. Some of them cause conflict, wish to dominate, wherever they go.

The spacecraft looked oddly familiar to me, but I couldn’t place where I had seen it. Usually those who came to observe our planet would dock their spaceships in the airfield over in Star Province, so it didn’t make sense to me that it would be hovering over White Province. A chill ran up my spine as I closed the curtain and walked out into the kitchen to see if Gertie was home. The kitchen was empty but a half full bowl of cereal in the sink let me know that she had already gone into her second shift at the clock shop.

Lucy saw that I was up and ran over to me. I bent down to scratch her furry black head when I heard a loud buzzing noise. Lucy whined a bit as I walked through the living room and let myself out the front door in my pajamas. There it was, that thing, hovering and buzzing away, seeming even larger now that I was standing outside.

I looked down our street to see if any neighbors were noticing the same thing, but it seemed no one else was alarmed, since I was the only crazy person standing on the street in my red heart pajamas. I walked back in and closed the door, thinking for a second. Checking the time, I realized it was 20:30 already, and I was running late for my second shift at the bookstore.

“Fiddlesticks,” I mumbled, quickly jetting into my bedroom to pull some clothes on. I went over to the nightstand and grabbed my watch, looping the brown band around my wrist. The inscription on the back gleamed through the gold plating: Semper Redibimus. “We will always come back,” I said aloud.

My Dad had a thing for interplanetary languages. I used to joke with him that he was probably the only person in the White Province, let alone on Zardia, who even knew what Latin was. I let out a long sigh, grabbed a banana and ran out the door.

The drive to work was short and I got there quickly. The sun was beating down and I could tell it was going to be a hot day. Things definitely seemed strange - all along the dirt paths that led to the bookshop, people were stopping and staring at the sky. Some were looking up in wonder, while others seemed a bit nervous at the sight. I noticed one girl, who looked to be about my age, crying.

I frowned, parking my car and heading into Dover’s, the only bookshop in Gardentown. Dover sold new books, secondhand books, comic books and anything else a reader could want, all housed on massive oak shelves that lined every square inch of the small, narrow store. Dover himself was at the counter when I entered, quiet and serious as always.

“Morning, Sam,” he called as he pushed up his glasses, deeply engaged in the large book he had open. “Strange one, eh?” He added, nodding at the sky.

“A bit, yea,” I said, putting down my purse behind the counter. “I feel as if I have seen something like that before, but I can’t place it.”

“I know what you mean,” Dover said. “I’ve been researching all morning, reading up on the Provincial Minor Wars, trying to find a picture that looks like that spacecraft. But I’m not coming up with anything.” Dover looked perplexed. Sam knew he hated a puzzle that he couldn’t solve.

Just then I heard the bell over the door go off. “Gary!” I yelled, recognizing my longtime friend and frequent bookshop patron. “How was your trip to the beach yesterday?”

“Feels like forever ago,” he replied with a grin as he adjusted his blue ball cap. “But it was nice to have a break.”

“I’ll bet,” I said. “What are you in for today?”

“Well, a bit of history maybe,” Gary said, taking a glance skyward and pulling at a tuft of his wavy brown hair. “Something about that observer spacecraft…”

“Familiar, right?” I called over my shoulder as I headed towards the history section, Gary following close behind. “I said the same thing. And I don’t think it’s an observer.”

“I just can’t place it,” Dover said, getting up from the counter and stretching.

“Reminds you of a warcraft, doesn’t it?” Gary asked, as he bent down next to me to take a look. “From the Provincial Wars?”

Dover walked over holding up a large green volume titled, The Minor Provincial Wars: 1550-1552 . “I’ve been scanning this for hours,” he said. “I’m not seeing anything close to resembling what’s in the sky out there.”

“Besides,” I said, still looking through the volumes, “most of the fighting in the Provincial Wars happened on the ground. The Star Province is the only one on Zardia with combat aircraft.” Gary and Dover both nodded as I found what I was looking for.

Gary’s eyes widened as I pulled out a red leather tome with the title: Time Wars: 1475-1485. “Now, let’s not get crazy…” he trailed off.

“It’s just a hunch…” I murmured, wiping a layer of dust off the book cover and quickly thumbing through the thick volume. There were plenty of pictures of smaller white and silver spacecraft shaped like disks, and even a large spacecraft with a long nose and an ovular body, but none quite so large or rectangular. “Hmm,” I said, stumped. I continued to scan, determined now.

“Wait…” Dover said, coming to join me by the bottom bookshelf and scanning the rest of the titles. Not finding what he needed, he stood up. “I think I have something, in the back.” He stood up, heading behind the counter and into the storeroom, where he kept new shipments of books waiting to be shelved, or old books that were certainly not going to sell and had become part of Dover’s personal collection.

“Is that where you keep all the good stuff?” Gary called after him, chuckling. I looked up at him, shaking my head. “What?” He shrugged. “If you can’t make jokes at a time like this…”

Just then, we heard the bell clang over the door as my 6-foot tall cousin Gertie, long blonde hair swinging, ran in. “Guys, did you see? What’s out there in the sky?”

“Hard to miss,” Gary said, walking over to where she stood.

“I took an early break at the watch shop. But I’ve got to be back at Mr. Kraven’s in fifteen minutes.” Gertie glanced at the clock above the door. “What do you make of it?” She asked, looking over at me with the same worry in her dark brown eyes that I felt in my chest.

Just as I was about to answer, Dover came bolting out of the storeroom. “I’ve got it!” We all turned around to look at what he was holding, a large brown book labeled Time Wars: The Beginning. “Hey, Gert,” he said, nodding absentmindedly as he quickly turned to the page he wanted. We all walked over to where he stood to get a closer look.

“The Monoliths didn’t always use the spaceships we saw in that book, Sam. At the beginning of the war- the very beginning – they announced their presence with a much larger spacecraft.”

“Let me guess…” I began, as Dover turned the book around so that the picture was facing the three of us. I felt a shock run down to my toes and I heard Gertie suck in her breath next to me. The picture matched what was out there, in the sky right now, almost exactly. The only difference was that the aircraft in the photo was emblazoned with a large white “M” on the side. “The Monoliths,” I whispered, as a chill went down my spine and I huddled my cardigan sweater closer for warmth.

“Well, they’ve certainly gotten stealthier when it comes to branding,” Gary said, pointing to the “M” in the picture.

“Like it would make a difference,” Gertie said, sitting down on the step leading up to the counter. “There could be a skull and crossbones on the front, and it probably wouldn’t matter. Half the townspeople don’t even think the Time Wars really happened.”

Dover shook his sandy blonde hair. “But the Monoliths are gone. That war was over 100 years ago. They’ve been gone for a long time now. Right?” He was starting to look worried too, which unsettled me even more.

“Who’s to say for sure?” Gertie asked. “The Mayor? Is his word one we can really trust?” Her eyes met Dover’s. “It’s a big galaxy out there.”

“It’s no secret that Mayor Winthrop doesn’t even believe the Time Wars were real,” I said. “He’s said more than once that it was some type of made-up propaganda, perpetrated by the Province leaders in order to maintain peace and encourage inter-Province relations.”

“Well, the Nebula and Evergreen Provinces didn’t exactly do their part in the war,” Gary noted. At that, we all nodded.

“They tried to make peace and royally fucked it up for the rest of us. They didn’t spot the Monoliths for what they were –a true enemy from the beginning.” Gertie added. “It put us at a huge disadvantage. I doubt we’d all be so united now if the Mayor, and the rest of the Provinces, weren’t working so hard to ignore that information.”

“From the beginning, the Monoliths just wanted to control the way that we manage time, and take over our planet,” I added. “My dad read a lot about them. They do the same thing everywhere they go. Some planets are strong enough to fight back. Others, like Aria, were not so lucky.” We all looked down at our shoes. The stories about the enslavement of planet Aria had been woven into our childhoods, told by our parents, and their parents before that.

Dover nodded somberly. “Mayor Winthrop definitely has his delusions about what happened. Our town, and the Provinces, have been divided on this for a long time. But regardless, we defeated the Monoliths. Your great-grandparents fought in that war, Sam, Gert, and Gary.” We all nodded. “So did mine. We know the stories. How the 4 Provinces eventually united to defeat them. Why would they come back? Why now?”

“Maybe they have something they didn’t have before,” I said quietly, glancing down at my watch. It had seen some wear over the years, but I still remembered the day that my father gave it to me, right before he left with my mother to go on a galaxy expedition.

“We’ve heard some rumors,” he had said before they left. “That the Monoliths may be returning in the near future. Being part of the Provincial Council, we have interplanetary knowledge.” He spoke slowly and Sam’s pulse kept up a steady beat, knowing this conversation was important. “The Mayor doesn’t believe in it. He says it’s all lies, stories. But we know, don’t we? We know the war was real.” Her father placed his hand on Sam’s heart and looked over at a picture of his father, Grandpa Joe, who had given his life during the Time Wars. “We’ve got to go out to the next planet to see if we can get more information from their council. We’ve got to know if we need to defend ourselves for…next time. If it comes.” Her father reached down and squeezed her hand. “Take care of Grandma Bet and Gertie. Aunt Lea and Uncle Bill will watch over you. You all need each other now.”

That was the last conversation I had with my father. My parents never returned. Old age and sickness had ravaged the rest of our little family. It was just Gert & I now.

Eight years later and the pain and loss still felt raw most days, like this huge ache right in the center of my chest that never really went away. I snapped back to reality and overheard Dover & Gertie arguing about what we should do, who we should talk to, who we should warn.

I felt as if someone had punched me in the chest. My heart started to flutter in panic as I looked out the bookstore window. “My parents didn’t give up their lives just so we could be defenseless when this happened again,” I said, my voice rising.

Everyone stopped and looked over at me. Gertie came and put a hand on my shoulder. “What can we do, Sam?” She asked. “The ‘old guard’ in this town doesn’t believe. They don’t want to believe.”

I took off my watch and stared at the inscription on the back again. Semper Redibimus. “We will always come back,” I murmured.

“What was that? What did you say?” Dover asked, walking over to me.

“It’s on the back of my watch,” I said, showing him the inscription. “It’s Latin. My Dad liked to study languages from other planets. He gave this to me on my 12th birthday, not long before they left for expedition. I figured it meant that they were always with me.” I shrugged.

Dover shook his head. “That’s not what it means…” he trailed off, practically running down the nearest aisle to grab a book off the shelf. We all watched him, confused. He flipped through a dark blue book labeled Time Wars: The Final Years, and walked over to show me the page he was looking at. The picture was of a rock in Gardentown near the prison where our townspeople had held the Monoliths, just before executing their leader and sending the rest of the clan back to their planet with a warning. There, crudely carved in the rock, were the words to match my watch inscription.

“Semper Redibimus.” I whispered.

“What does this mean?” Gary asked. “These guys know Latin too?”

“When they imprisoned my great-grandfather during the uprising,” Dover started, his voice quiet now, “they told him something. I didn’t remember until…until right now.  My grandfather, his son, used to tell me this story all the time. When the Monoliths left, when they realized we had beaten them back, they said they would return, but that we wouldn’t be able to stop them next time.

My great-grandfather couldn’t make sense of it then. But something happened right after they left. Memories became hazy. The town picked up and moved on, and the story of what happened changed. It was like a game of telephone, except no one knew what the truth was anymore. The reality became a story. People believed what they wanted to believe. The town became frozen in ‘peace time’ and suddenly there was no ‘before’.

Eventually, people just stopped talking about it, stopped remembering. The ones who fought in the war eventually died. And those who remained held on to the story, quietly in their own homes, like we did. But it wasn’t talked about anymore. It wasn’t accepted as something that actually happened. It hasn’t been in a long, long time.” Dover stood there, dumbfounded.

“And now they’re back, as promised,” Gertie said.

“And no one remembers how to stop them,” I added.

“Well, shit.” Gary said.