The Substance of Things Hoped For

Jolik Corona had seven kills under his belt before he turned fourteen. By the time he was thirty, he had reached triple digits in this area and was a legend on the Temporal Anomaly Force. Still, ninety-seven percent of the population died quietly.

Despite their best efforts, the TAF hadn’t found a way to go back in time to stop the scourge of the NCC-1701 virus. No one could find the exact origin of the virus, for it had spread quickly, and it seemed to start on every continent at approximately the same time. What was known about the virus was frustratingly little: it had started with a natural mutation of pollen, but which pollen remained a mystery. Once inhaled, the victim had about three days to live. The symptoms were almost non-existent. One would feel slightly fatigued and run a mild fever before dying in their sleep within 72 hours.

It wasn’t until the spring of 2072 that an analyst by the name of Riley Coburn came up with an elegant and brilliant plan, a possible solution that offered a sliver of hope for humanity. The TAF may – just may – be able to reverse this catastrophe and return the planet to what it should have been before NCC-1701 came along. The plan involved Jolik Corona and Charles Ng. It all rested on Jolik’s willingness to do the unthinkable.

**************

MARCH 14, 2072

Fable Lind was one of only three TAF officers with the rank of L10, and one of only two that remained alive. Jolik was the other one. Fable didn’t necessarily like Jolik and Jolik had no feelings either way about Fable. As it turned out, this was the perfect working relationship for them. As one L5 put it (but very quietly, and only to his friends when he was drunk), ‘shit gets done by them.’

“The job,” Fable told the assembled members of the task force, “is straightforward. We go in, take out a target, and get the virus in the hands of the man who we think has the key to a vaccine for NCC-1701.”

The assembled group, thirty strong, opened their folders and started looking through it, murmuring excitedly. This was it, the big breakthrough that the TAF had been looking for for over two decades.

Frowns and puzzled looks peppered the faces of the members of the task force after a few minutes. Jolik remained impassive, which irritated Fable though she didn’t know why. Perhaps she resented his attitude, though it was his attitude that made him perfect for this job.

“But…but we don’t have photos of…”

“That’s right, L5, you don’t,” Fable snapped. The room fell instantly into a hush. Only Jolik commanded more respect than Fable, and a look from either could effectively quiet a roomful of people to the point that you could hear an ant fart.

“Right. Team two briefing is in lower level three. Team three, lower level eleven. Support in comms meeting room one. Jolik, you stay here,” Fable said in clipped, grim syllables.

Everyone shuffled off quickly to their respective locations. Jolik remained seated, waiting impassively for the room to clear. Fable waited as well, but impatiently. Her foot tapped on the floor and she couldn’t keep her hands still. One of the reasons that she was taken off of field work was her impatience; she would make her kills, yes, but her anxiousness to get the job done often resulted in collateral damage. The powers that be pulled her from time travel missions and made her head of the TAF operations unit, complete with a promotion and a spacious office. She had earned L10 status for her years of service in the field but it didn’t feel like it to her.

Fable sat across from Jolik and tossed a very thick folder down in front of him. Jolik didn’t look at the folder, though; he stared at Fable through heavy-lidded eyes.

“You’re not gonna like this, Corona. Not one bit,” Fable said it in a way that suggested that she was also not liking it, but not to the extent that she would lose any sleep over it. Well, maybe a little. She had immense respect for Jolik Corona, but he wasn’t the kind of man that inspired the warm and fuzzies in anyone.

Jolik opened the file and leafed through it. He paused when he got to the two photographs: one was the target to kill, the other was the scientist to save.

“Charles Ng. You may recognize him.”

Jolik stared at the scientist’s photograph. He looked young and happy.

“I killed him,” Jolik said.

Fable sighed. She didn’t like this part: admitting TAF mistakes.

“Yeah, well, Dunfree ordered the hit. Thought Ng was the one that had weaponized the pollen. The man was sloppy,” Fable said. She got up and paced the room, agitated at the events that led to Charles Ng’s death.

“We have new intel?” Jolik looked at Fable. She nodded glumly.

“We have this new analyst. Riley. He was digging through some old notes that Ng had written before he died. Turns out that Ng was close to a viable vaccination for NCC-1701.”

Jolik nodded. It was making sense now. The man needed to be saved, but in order to do that, another man had to die. He held up the photo of the target and showed it to Fable.

“This man has to die first, right?”

Fable’s face paled a little, and angry red blotches formed on her cheeks. She hated this, hated it more than not being as respected as Jolik. It was a terrible thing that Jolik was being asked to do. She couldn’t fathom how he would do it, but the brutal truth was that Jolik would do it without hesitation. If she had it in her, Fable would fall in love with him.

“I admit that I don’t understand all the rules for time travel. I am assured by the Department of Policy that this man has to die and this man has to be protected long enough to finish developing the vaccine,” Fable held up the two photographs, waving each one in turn.

“How long do we have to prepare?”

Fable paused for a moment before answering. Just when she was starting to like Jolik, he irritated her again by being so…so…calm. It wasn’t natural.

“One week,” she said. Fable exited the room without speaking to or looking at Jolik again. She left the door open, pausing just outside to listen. Would Jolik just sit there? Would he get up and leave as well? What was his state of mind? The powers that be would want to know.

“Sorry, old friend. You gotta die,” Jolik said, loud enough for Fable to hear.

With a smile immediately followed by a frown, Fable went to HQ to make her report.

**************

Mariju didn’t understand. Neither did Luko. Matthias shrugged and just accepted it. The Director had his reasons, and he wasn’t going to get upset over something he couldn’t control.

“But Jolik always works alone. He never needs backup,” Marijou’s voice was thin and strident. She didn’t like not knowing, but everything about this mission was ‘need to know.’ Luko shook his head in consternation and Matthias put a cigarette to his lips and puffed gently.

Jolik strode into the room and the trio of time travelers snapped to attention. Jolik glared at them and growled that they looked like tin soldiers. All three relaxed their bodies but kept a wary eye on Jolik.

“Let’s go. I expect precision and success from you L5s. Don’t let me down,” Jolik said, his words tinged with steel and ice. He inspected their weapons before leaving. No one was offended, and all breathed a sigh of relief when Jolik said nothing. Nothing was good.

Time travel is hell on the body. The very fabric of your body is ripped apart and then put back together after travelling through the space-time continuum, leaving one nauseous and disoriented for several minutes. The L5’s all vomited and gasped for air when they reached their destination. Although all had done this before, it was still a shock to the physical system. Even Jolik looked pale and shaky when they hit 2050, but he didn’t lose his lunch. He was smart enough not to have had lunch.

Lescun, France. A village set in a glacial bowl. Isolated. It had charm and serenity built in, but it also had a team of scientists working on a vaccine for NCC-1701. The four time travelers ignored the breathtaking scenery and instead focused on the man leaving his rented room and heading towards Ng’s location to kill him.

The three L5s all gasped and immediately looked at Jolik. They turned back and looked at the target. Amazement was splashed across their faces, and one of them uttered a curse word.

Jolik looked at the L5s and smiled – faintly.

“Surprise,” he said, pulling out his gun.

**************

The target stopped when he saw four guns pointed at him, but his eyes were glued to one man in particular: Jolik.

“What the fuck, Jolik. Sir. What the actual fu…”

“Shut up,” Jolik growled to Luko. He didn’t take his eyes off of the target.

“You look good. Stayed in shape, I see. And an L10?” The target smiled.

“I’m here to kill you,” Jolik said, his voice faltering just a little.

“Yeah, I can see that. And you never miss. I should know,” the target smiled again. The three L5s had never seen such a beautiful smile.

“It was Dunfree’s fault, the stupid fucker.”

“I never trusted him, but you are aware of that. Stuffy and officious, just like the bureaucrats that got us into this mess in the first place,” the target spat out.

“He’s dead now. Forced to retire. Drank himself to death,” Jolik said as if he were reading an accounting report.

“Wait! What the hell is happening? I mean…” Mariju started but couldn’t finish. It all seemed so incomprehensible.

“It’s me, twenty-two years ago,” Jolik said, as if that explained everything. It didn’t.

“But why…” Matthias started.

“Because I killed Professor Ng twenty-two years ago and he’s the only one that had a promising vaccine for NCC-1701. I have to die. Ng has to live. Got it?”

“No! I don’t get it!” Luko howled.

“I get it. Don’t be a dumbass, son. Do your job,” the target spoke.

“Why did you pick us, sir? Why not some of the older ones?” Mariju asked, although she was still in shock. The mission was weird to begin with, and now this.

“You all have kids. I’m assuming that you want them to live in a better world than the one they currently live in. That’s why you joined the Force, isn’t it?”

All three nodded. Jolik was showing why he was an L10, and it wasn’t just because he had a perfect and prolific kill rate.

“So, where do you want it? Head or heart?” Jolik asked his younger self.

His younger self paused for a moment before answering.

“The head guarantees a quick death.”

Jolik held up his handgun.

“This is a Desert Eagle.”

Jolik’s younger self nodded.

“Good choice. The heart, then. I don’t want the L5s to lose their lunch if you blow my head off. A nice big hole in the chest acceptable to you?” Jolik’s younger self looked at the trio of stunned faces to his left.

Whatever they answered went unheard because Jolik chose that moment to kill his younger self. The three L5s looked at the body as it dropped heavily to the ground, a massive wound to the chest spewing out blood in several directions. Luko threw up again. The other two sat down and wept.

The Jolik they had known for years had simply vanished. Mariju picked up his gun and the trio returned to the present. She laid the gun on Fable’s desk and walked out, tears in her eyes.

**************

JULY 29, 2091

Fable bore the ennui of her retirement party with as much grace as she could muster, which wasn’t much. Her ten gleaming stripes on each arm glimmered in the ballroom’s sedate lighting, appearing to her like ten angry welts on her soul. Forced retirement sucks, she thought. It was because of her age, though, and not because of incompetence.

Mariju, sporting nine stripes and a glow on her face, raised a glass of something alcoholic and slightly vile to Fable and sidled up next to her. She sipped her drink and quickly set it down. Why Fable insisted on this shit to be served at her retirement party was a mystery to her.

“Because people will leave sooner and seek better refreshment elsewhere,” she answered Mariju’s query.

“So, what will you do now?” Mariju was willing to be civil to Fable despite the fact that Fable had recommended someone else for her position after she retired.

Fable shrugged and grimaced.

“Gardening. Maybe grow some vegetables. Write a book. Who the hell knows?” Fable said, staring at the giant picture of Jolik Coronado behind the dais.

She hated that picture. She hated that Jolik was made an L11, though there was no listed official rank above L10. He was immortalized at TAF. She had a tennis bracelet and a small picture in the lower-level break room.

But Jolik had made the mission a success. Ng had produced a viable vaccine and the world instantly repopulated to the nine billion it had been before the virus. Jolik, they said in whispers, had brought the dead back to life. Worst of all, Fable missed him. She missed his laconic replies and his unwavering gaze. She didn’t like him, but she missed him like hell.

“He had faith, I’ll give him that,” Fable said. Mariju looked at her questioningly.

“Jolik. He did what he did because he had faith in humanity. I never got that. Most people are just putrid piles of psychoses, hang-ups and hormones. He had more faith in humanity than I could ever muster.”

Mariju gazed at Fable in mild surprise. For her, this was a rhapsody. The entire Force, though, looked at Jolik in terms that made sense to them. For the cadets and field workers, he was larger than life, his status approaching mythological proportions. For Fable and a few others, he was a thorn in their sides because his exploits could not be denied and that took away from their luster. For the Director and the board members, he was a cash cow, and they used his achievements and mythology to rake in government subsidies.

In the end, Jolik was largely forgotten when a madman with a nuclear arsenal destroyed most of humanity in 2111. Nowadays, he exists in grainy pictures, credited with vague and unsubstantiated miracles. He is still worshipped by a few cults, but most of the remaining people from the nuclear apocalypse ignore him and concentrate on getting on with life.