Contraband

This piece was written for Twist in the Tale in April of 2024

Prompts:

Genre: Sci Fi/Time Anomaly

Contraband

Most of Ness’s jobs were simple. Snatch some non-genetically modified bananas from a timeline in which they were never brought to Europe or grab cancer cures from future timelines. Most jobs were predictable. Monotonous, but lucrative.

Few smugglers were willing to pass through intertemporal customs with chronological contraband hidden in any nook and cranny they could find. Ness liked the rush. A smile of superiority lining her lips as she sailed through their anachronism scanners.

            Ness’s chrono-sickness had finally begun to wear off as she slinked down the hall to Dr. Silax’s lab. All she needed from him were a few letters and numbers‒ Some bullshit for AI development in the slow to progress 1950-QX timeline. As long as he didn’t waste her time, he’d live. Ness palmed her blade and entered the lab using a retinal replicator she’d picked up in timeline 3023-XC.

Dr. Silax sat at his lab table. One hand rubbed his temple, the other scribbled furiously. Music sounded from his implanted earpods. Easy to catch him by surprise, but Ness was tired and decided against theatrics.

She pushed the blade to his neck and tugged on his earlobe, silencing the music. “One move and this blade will be inside your throat faster than you can take a breath.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“I need the formula for synthetic neurotransmitters. Write it down and we can both go on with our lives.”

“I don’t‒” he started.

Ness’s blade pushed against his throat. His vocal cords heeded the warning and ceased to sound.

“Neurotransmitters. Write.”

Dr. Silax turned the page of his notebook and filled a crisp sheet with symbols, letters and numbers. His hand shook as he tore out the page and held it up.

“No, I want the whole notebook. Just in case you decided to swap a decimal point.”

Dr. Silax drew in breath to protest, but Ness’s blade reminded him that wasn’t wise. His hands still trembled as he held them up in surrender.

Ness pocketed the contraband. “Now, escort me out of your lab.”

****

            The intertemporal customs line was shorter than normal, which meant the agents would be paying more attention. Ness rubbed her temples to soothe an oncoming headache. Perhaps she exited the cryo-pod too soon this morning. She strode forward with confidence and presented her temporal passport to the agents.  Her face remained relaxed. Friendly, but authentic. The scanners whirred as they passed over her body.

            Beeping. The scanners were beeping. Ness’s heart awoke in her chest. Her legs lost their sturdy base. They couldn’t have found the notebook. Ness had concealed it too well. The scanner wasn’t even near the contraband. Instead, it hovered over her head.

            “Anachronism detected, Sir,” the agent said as his supervisor approached. “I’ve never seen this code before.” He turned the scanner around in his hands as if it would help him decipher it better.

            The supervisor swallowed the concern creeping into his face. “Ma’am, we need to take you to a decontamination unit.” He grabbed Ness’s arm.

            Her temples throbbed. “What will that do for my chrono-sickness? Let me through or I will lodge a complaint with the time travel authority.”

            He did not let go.

            The whirring in her head grew louder, but the scanners were off. Ness felt a tingle in her arm. It strengthened into pain as if her arteries were being woven together with metal strings.

            Ness wrenched her arm away, kneeing the agent in the nose. She ran toward the portal. Agents chased after her, grabbing at her. She pushed them away. Her own strength surprised her as they flew back. Her speed increased beyond what she had ever experienced. A few feet yet from the portal, she jumped into the temporal abyss, evading the reach of the final portal agent.

            When her feet hit the ground on the other side, she continued to run. Her breath stayed even and calm despite the force she moved with. No time to contemplate these new abilities. The agents would be following her. Ness rounded a corner and slid into a storm drain.

            Her head was full of static. Her legs and arms screamed with pain. She felt around for the notebook and sighed in relief when her fingers found the shape of it. Ness crouched beneath the city, not to catch her breath. She was breathing fine. But to figure out what the hell was going on.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she winced at the pain in her shoulder. When they opened, the world had changed. The scenery was the same, but her perception was not. Every texture stood out in the clearest detail. New spectrums of light were visible. Strange frequencies of sound sang.

She pulled the notebook out and furiously flipped the pages. A dogeared page in the middle of the book caught her attention by the throat.

BIO ENHANCEMENTS/NANO WARFARE

As Ness read on, tears formed in her eyes. What had Dr. Silax done?

What had she done?

Ness grabbed her blade and cut into her forearm, where the pain was most intense. Her fingers were stiff as she pulled apart the skin. Beneath her flesh, the workings of bioengineering spread like spilled honey. Metal weaved over her bones and through her body, making her stronger, faster, more resilient. The wound barely bled as her new body did not need blood to function. How could this be?

This could mean only one thing. He’d infected her with nanotechnology.

Her fingers flipped the pages of his notebook. There had to be a cure. Instead, she found another page with rushed writing.

“Tell Dr. Turing we’re even now.”

Her body refused to match her mind. While thoughts swirled, the rest of her was eerily calm. Dr. Turing had hired her to advance his technology. To run his imitation game.

What had she done?

She was infected with the true contraband. In 1950-QX, she was not the harbinger of AI technology.

She was patient zero.