Migrants in Time

You’ve been in bed staring at your ceiling. White, boring, just like you. You know that listening to a sad Russian ballad isn’t helping you but you still do. When have you ever listened to yourself? If you could sing you would be the Russian sad lady. You know it hurts but you continue. Living on an island- a brainchild of yours truly- where sad ballads are the only soundtrack allow is something you do even though you don’t want to.

When was the last time you were out there, out of this rectangular construction? How many days has it been? 10,30? You don’t even remember and you don’t want to. Because rabbit holes are waiting to trap you. A rabbit hole when you are already in the ‘off phase’ as your oh so wonderful therapist calls it is so not what you want right now.

You feel your stomach churning. You shouldn’t have ordered that last drink of martini. Or the one before that. You just cannot stop. You remember your mother warning you about your drinking habits. How do you tell her that you don’t even like drinking and that it was just a way to rebel? And here comes another thought crawling in your mind, slowly and then all at once, inching faster and faster now that it is past the door. What if your whole life is built on a series of rebellion? What if the things you have done are all because you wanted to defy?

And then you swirl too hard. Anxiety cripples you. You lie there on the couch seemingly normal but swirling too hard, moving too fast until you just cannot.

You need to find something else, something to do, someone to talk too but you don’t have a someone. Wait! Focus, no rabbit holes today. Find something. Anything mundane. Keys. No! Look away. Dishes. No! Mail, yes! You need to check your mail. You should definitely check your mail. You pick up the stack and sift through them. Bills. Boring! TV Guide. Boring! Gym Membership. Boring! But then, as you check your mail, you notice a letter that makes you stop in your tracks. It’s him. When you are stuck on another planet for a crime you did not commit, you remember names. You remember people. You remember him. But what if it is another rabbit hole? What if not opening it leads you down another rabbit hole? So, you do the wise thing or foolish thing depending on what the future holds. You open the letter. You want to go to the ‘on phase’.

“Hey,

 Sara, I have no idea why am I sending this letter. I don’t know if this will reach you but I hope it does.

It’s been a year since the incident. They have been shipping more and more people off to unknown planets. I just want you to come back. Please come back.

There are people like me who are ready to help. Please come back.

Yours,

Ray”

He is right. Its been a year since you have been home. They shipped you off to Liberty-IV for something they found in your blood. They shipped hundreds of you like cattle. They left you to die but you led them. And you will lead them with back to Home. At 18, you wouldn’t have even thought about leading a class. But now at 27, you are Captain Sara Bolton, leading Operation Domum, a fight for your home, Aurora. You will lead them back.

You look at the photos near the keys. It seems like a different world. It is a different world. It is home. And no baseless segregation and experimentation exploits are going to keep you away from home. You were an experiment and so were the hundreds brought with you. They portrayed you as criminals. Petty thieves and whatnot. Your blood separated you but it was their creation. How could they hate their creation? People believed them. They remained silent. They believed everything they were told about you and your people. Every headline called Liberty the home of criminals. But everyone knew the truth. Everyone knew about the isolation and torture. Everyone knew that they were treated like filth. You were framed and so were your people.

Enough was enough.

Aurora was home and it will be yours. Going back was the only option, for you, for the 250 of your people who were ready to give their all and pack their makeshift lives to live as migrants in time. Jack had not seen his daughter ever since her birth. Altahir had no clue if his mother was breathing. Faith just wanted a fresh start. And you just wanted to go back to robots and stars, your ‘on phase’ and to him.

You know what you are about to do is wrong by all standards. The Government would refuse all the claims and all your defences. People will resist change. You would have to build a home from the very start. But you have to do this. Your rectangle here is what it is. It is a grey that you just cannot seem to shake off.

But now you will.

You get up and look out the window. It is a stark black expanse, glowing here and there, home but not quite like home. You know you are taking a risk. The time jump is a calculation that could go either way but you have to do it. You could land anywhere. You could end up stuck in a continuum. It had always been a wonder to you how time tied everybody, everything together. Time was the only constant. Time was the only forever.

 You hear the AI “10 minutes to the jump”. Your people need you. You can hear the loud cries chanting “Domum, Domum!” They will find their forever, however, finite they may be.

Aurora was home and you will take them back. You will go back and he will be there, to help you, a migrant in time seeking a migrant in time only to be a migrant in time no more.