When Am I This Time?
It’s so cold here. This doesn’t feel like my sleeping pod. My head hurts. What an unfamiliar feeling. I am hearing strange sounds around me… and what is that smell? Nothing I have ever sensed before. At least, not that I can remember. Speaking of memory… what has happened to me? I feel that something is seriously off.
My vision is all black. Have I become blind? Or are my eyes closed? I will try to open them now. That took some effort.
Where are my clothes? I am completely naked. That at least explains why I am freezing. But this is still a problem. I need to find some clothes soon, or I may have even bigger problems.
I am lying on the ground, looking towards the sky. It must be daytime. It is green around me. How odd. The ground feels soft against my naked skin.
A tickling sensation on… my belly. Doesn’t feel normal. What is causing this sensation? That creature! Small and black, maybe the size of my fingernail. With many thin legs! It moves again, towards me! Is it dangerous? I don’t like it a bit! Can I wipe it off me?
That felt better. The creature is gone. But I could hardly lift my right arm. And now my arm hurts.
Something is looking at me. This creature is white. Only two legs, this one. And a lot bigger than the belly-crawling creature. It is sitting in a green structure some meters away. Just staring at me, not moving its head or any other part. It just made a sound! An abrupt sound that I cannot remember having heard before. Speaking of memory… what has happened to me? It feels… blank.
I am freezing even more, shivering now. I need to get away from here, or I may be dead soon.
Why does it hurt so much? Every limb and joint hurt. It took so much energy for me to stand up. Can I move my legs? I’ll have to. No idea where to go, though. Need to find civilization… but where is civilization? I’ll just go downhill; that seems to hurt the least.
My pain is a bit less intense now. But I am feeling dizzy. The path ahead of me is starting to blur. Keeping on my feet is difficult. I think I should sit down before I fall and hu…
I open my eyes. Looks like I am in some kind of open sleeping pod, located in a small room. My gaze drifts across the room. A small table. Empty. Two wooden chairs. A small drawer in the corner of the room. Two decorations on the wall. I recognize all the objects, though only barely. Otherwise, the room seems empty.
I am hearing sounds coming through the half-open window. They differ greatly from the sounds I heard when I woke up last time, naked. And there is one sound I can remember—citizens talking.
Someone has put clothes on me. I am no longer freezing, and the pain I felt earlier is a lot less now. Maybe I didn’t die after all.
There is a knock on the door, followed by the door slowly opening. A woman dressed in white enters the room. She is carrying a tray with a glass of some pale liquid and a light brown lump of something unfamiliar.
I feel every muscle in my body stiffening. Am I still in danger? Is this just a trap? I am inching towards the wall and bending my knees towards my chest, without letting the white-clad woman out of sight.
The woman puts the tray down on the table. She sits down on the chair furthest from the sleeping pod. Then she smiles. My body relaxes a little.
She is speaking to me now. It is the first time I have heard someone speak to me since I woke up naked. The language of the white-clad woman sounds strange. Yet there is quite a lot of familiarity. I concentrate for a few seconds on interpreting what I think she told me.
“If you just asked me if I could understand you, I think I could indeed answer with a positive.”
The woman gazes towards the ceiling for a few seconds as if she is thinking hard about something. Then she returns her gaze to me, smiling once more. “Ahh. Very good. We will be able to communicate with little difficulty. My name is Marsaili, and I am a nurse here. What is your name?”
“My name?”
“Yes, your name,” the woman repeats. “What did your fellow citizens address you as in your Time?”
“I… I don’t know what my name is. I don’t think I can remember anything before I woke up—in pain and with no clothes. What… what happened to me?”
Marsaili puts her chair closer to the sleeping pod and places a hand on my right shoulder. “Don’t worry about it for now, okay? You are currently suffering from Time sickness after being catapulted from whatever Time you came from. Temporary loss of memory is a very common symptom. But it will come back before long.”
Marsaili stops talking, as if to give me a chance to respond. I have no idea what to say. “All right. What do you remember?”
“Waking up outside. It was green all around me. I was freezing and tried to walk… somewhere. I don’t know where I was headed. Soon after, I started feeling dizzy… I may have collapsed.”
“You did indeed collapse. But you were quite lucky. Two mushroom-gatherers found you unconscious. They knew immediately what had happened to you and brought you here. Had you woken up deeper in the woods, you might have died of hypothermia. You slept for almost thirty hours before waking up recently! Oh, I haven’t told you where—and when—you are.
Marsaili’s smile returns. “Welcome to Western Marvalioshire Catapult Debrief Facility! We usually just call it WestMar CDF. Or simply just WestMar. And welcome to our time—October 1842!”
“Good morning, Tinmeria. How are we feeling today? Breakfast is served!”
Marsaili folds out the legs underneath the breakfast tray and places it in front of me, still in bed. Little by little, my memory is coming back to me, such as my name: Tinmeria O’Tugaslikhr. On my plate, there are two pieces of bread—one with cheese and the other with ham—and a glass of milk. I eat and drink with fervor, without speaking much. Only when I have finished breakfast, I hoist myself to a more upright position and look with pride towards Marsaili.
“I finally remember, Marsaili. Took me some effort, but I remember now being catapulted from the future. Year 2419, to be precise.”
Marsaili raises her eyebrows. “2419! Wow, such coincidence! I have spent parts of my life not too far from that period. Several fond memories from that time I have. Indeed, some fond memories, and some less fond ones…” Marsaili looks away and doesn’t say anything for a while. “Silly me, reminiscing about a future that is already my past.” She smiles again. “Tell me, Tinmeria—are there other memories coming back to you?”
I look toward the window, filtering the morning light. “Quite a lot, actually. I was still living with my foster parents, but planning to move on my own, when…it…happened.” Oh no. The confidence I felt just moments ago seems to melt away
“I was eating breakfast with them. We were discussing the apartment I wanted to rent. Then I started feeling it… that sickly, nauseating pull. And the visual impressions. Wall colors starting to bleed away. Familiar shapes started twisting and bending into impossible configurations. Including my dear foster parents. I…“
My voice cracks, and I feel tears running from my eyes in a silent cry. It takes me some time, breathing deeply, to regain control of my voice.
“I ran to them. Hugged them both as tightly as I could. Thanking them for the years we got together as a family. I remember tearing my catapult pendant from my neck chain and giving it to them—pointless, really, since they were witnessing me about to be catapulted—but I wanted them to have something left of me. Something that wouldn’t dissolve.”
My voice breaks again, and tears continue flowing down my cheeks.
Marsaili is silent. She inches closer to me. When I start trebling, she puts a hand on my arm.
“I am so sorry,” she whispers. No matter how many times we are catapulted from one Time to the next, it never gets easier. If anything, it hurts more each time—every life, every goodbye.
I am weeping harder, not trying to fight it, my grief echoing softly in the small room—a sound as old as Time itself.
A few hours later, Marsaili comes back to my room—this time with another citizen. A man, maybe in his mid-thirties, with short blond hair and a tidy moustache, greets me. Unlike Marsaili, the man doesn’t have a white uniform but is casually dressed.
“Tinmeria, it is a pleasure to meet our newest visitor from the future! My name is Zed MacSlebas, and I am the Contemporaries Teacher at this facility—well, one of them. Mind if I take a seat?” he asks with a polite nod.
“Not at all, Mr. MacSlebas.”
“Just call me Zed; that will save you some time! So… we know how stressful waking up in another Time can be. We have all experienced it. Getting acquainted takes some time and effort.
Zed gestures towards Marsaili. “My fine colleague here will make sure that all symptoms of Time Sickness will soon be but a memory… including your current inability to walk on your own, as she has told me about. My job is to focus on the social aspects of our patients. Imagine being catapulted two millennia forward in time. The world has changed multiple times during those years. It can be not just stressful, but downright depressing.”
“Depressing is the right word,” I say, looking down.
“Exactly. Which is why we teach citizens about our Time: the technology, societal customs, and, if necessary, language. Finally, we discuss with each patient viable prospects for them. Do you have any thoughts on what you would like to work with, Tinmeria?”
“Actually, I have no idea, Zed,” I say, looking down. “In my previous Time, I was operating some advanced machinery. But that technology doesn’t exist in this Time…I may be totally useless here!”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Tinmeria. It is quite common for patients to feel this way—whether they come from the future or the past. But citizens often have plenty of latent skills… and they can learn! Now… since you come from the future, you may know quite a lot about our Time already. So, the full curriculum isn’t strictly mandatory for you. You can have a simplified version if you’d like. Any thoughts on that?”
“Zed, I thank you for your uplifting words. Yes, I know a few facts from the history books. But now that I am actually living this Time, I think I’ll benefit most from the full curriculum, if you don’t mind.”
“Splendid! I think that is a good choice. There is a class starting the day after tomorrow, so I will swing by and pick you up then. And don’t worry about walking—I’ll bring a comfy wheelchair. See you then!” They both leave the room.
Zed’s enthusiasm, in the brief time he spoke, has managed to lift my spirits. But as the footsteps from them gradually dwindle in the corridor, I am becoming aware that I will soon have to interact with other citizens of this Time—some native, and some catapulted here like herself.
I rest my head back on the pillow for another nap, hoping I’ll at least manage to find some friends here.
“…and there I was, certain that my last moment in this world was upon me, ye? I had given up fighting the ferocious river water about to consume me. Suddenly I felt the pre-catapult sensations, and I thought please, let this bloody river be gone in my next Time! And vanished it had. Woke up in a dry riverbed not far from here. I must be the luckiest citizen in this town, ye?!”
A bald but full-bearded man, maybe in his fifties, chuckles as he raises his glass of dark ale. I try to remember what his name is—Snoodo, perhaps? He was catapulted from the 14th century two weeks before I arrived.
I am sitting with him and a few other patients in the common room. A fire is lazily burning in the fireplace, adding a comfortable warmth and a nice ember hue to the room. It is Saturday, which means we’re allowed a few pints of ale if we so desire. I haven’t tasted this stuff before, but I find it to be quite delicious.
There is also Ehlmellah, recently arrived from the 21st century. I first met her and the others in the Contemporaries class, and I liked her from the start. She is about my age—mid-twenties—and has never been catapulted before now. Just like me, she was struck with immense grief initially. But she seems to have accepted her circumstances and tries to adapt the best she can. Just like me.
Finally, there is Bhelmer. Completely without facial hair—not even eyebrows—his age is hard to guess. Maybe mid-forties. Bhelmer is the least social of the bunch. We know little about him, besides the fact that he has been catapulted from the 26th century.
“Sure, Snyder, your luck in this matter is unparalleled; no contest there. But have you heard about the least lucky citizen?” It is Ehlmellah talking. During our brief time together, I have noticed that Ehlmellah is an engaging and fun storyteller.
“Picture this—I am walking downtown a few years back—in my previous Time—on a very busy day. Suddenly I feel the hairs on my body rising outwards. It is as if the air has become electric. And then—whooooosh—a citizen materializes in front of me. The problem is… this citizen lands in the middle of a heavily trafficked road. I hear the car trying frantically to brake—but to no avail. Boooom! The newly arrived citizen is flung at least ten meters by the impact. Dies on the spot. Talk about bad luck, eh?”
We all shake our heads, as if paying silent tribute to the unlucky citizen. All except Bhelmer, who is still sitting motionless in his chair, eyes fixed on the fireplace.
Ehlmellah turns towards him. “What about you, Bhelmer? Any exciting stories from your Time you would like to share?”
A few long seconds pass before Bhelmer turns his head towards Ehlmellah. “I’ve got tons of stories from my Time, Ehlmellah,” he says flatly, without even a slight smile. “My Time was… is… will be… fantastic. All that beautiful technology keeping every citizen entertained and informed. And here—nothing. Ahh…Not even basic communication. I’ve accumulated more boredom during the brief time I’ve been here than I have had in my entire life before. Ahh…How I am going to handle being here without killing myself is beyond my comprehension. Honestly, I am half tempted to jump into that fireplace right now to end this misery.”
No one is speaking for a while. The only sound is the fire cracking softly. Then Bhelmer turns towards me. “What about you? Your previous Time was fairly close to mine. Aren’t you dying of boredom too?”
I take another sip of my ale before answering. “Every day I miss my previous life,” I say. “The first few days, I would cry alone in my room. I miss the technology as well—of course I do. But I wasn’t born in the 25th century. I got only eight years there. Before that, I came from the 16th. So, living in a ‘primitive’ Time isn’t new to me. Lack of technology doesn’t bother me. We will get by.”
“Ahh…I wished I shared your glaring optimism,” Bhelmer mutters before redirecting his focus on the dancing flames.
Later that evening, I run into Marsaili in the corridor and tell her about Bhelmer’s bleak mood.
“He is not the jolliest of our patients,” Marsaili admits. “Some adapt easily, and others—like him—need more time. Luckily for him, there are support groups in town where citizens can meet other citizens from their own previous Time and talk things through. Bhelmer will be fine.” Marsaili gives me a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up before walking on.
Bland. I am quite disappointed when I see the library building. An old wooden three-story building whose age shows in every plank and beam. The walls, once maybe white, could definitely need a new coat of paint. But it is what’s inside that counts, I keep telling myself as Ehlmellah and I pass through the squeaky entrance doors of Marvalioshire Public Library.
It’s been almost six weeks since I was thrown into this Time. The Contemporaries course at WestMar is slowly coming to an end. Today, we have been given permission—and been encouraged—to visit the town library. And I can finally, after much effort and training, walk again without any form of support.
Inside, we’re met with a myriad of shelves, all fully loaded with books of various sizes and colors. A circle of comfy-looking chairs sits in the middle of the great hall, each with a small table beside. And on the entire wall at the back end of the hall—large pieces of paper full of hand-written text and illustrations. At the top is written ‘Map of Time’.
“Wow, this is even better than I’d imagined!” I whisper to Ehlmellah. “Definitely a different vibe than the sterile walls at WestMar. And not to forget—this is my first time ever in a paper-based library!”
“I’ve been visiting plenty of libraries in my previous Time,” she whispers back. “Nevertheless, a pleasant variation from the Facility.”
“Let me guess…25th century?” We both turn to face the citizen speaking to us. A young man is standing there smiling, looking at me. His hair is medium length with a reddish hue. One large golden earring hangs on each earlobe. On his nose rests a pair of thick glasses.
“How did you know?” I smile back at the man. “I left all my fancy futuristic clothes back in my Time!”
“There is something about the way you speak that I have only heard from your kind. The way you walk is also quite distinct for citizens from that Time—slightly faster pace…”
The man extends his right hand and greets both of us. “I am Hall’der and work as a librarian at this fine establishment. Nice to meet you both! Would you like a brief introduction to this place?”
We look at each other before we nod in unison.
“All right let’s start then,” he says and motions for us to come closer to the Map of Time. “This is… as you may have guessed, the Map of Time. Although a more accurate name would be Map of Future Time. On it, we plot all the information we obtain from future citizens about the Time they came from. Major events, cultural details, technology… you name it. Have a closer look if you’d like!”
I study the timeline events surrounding the Time from which I came and soon discover that the information is by and large identical to what I can remember—except for a few details. When I make Hall’der aware of this, he just smiles and points towards the chairs we had just passed. “Have a seat!”
Once seated, he explains. “All citizens catapulted into our Time lands here without any items. All they have are their memories—and they can sometimes have faded slightly in the process. Despite that, some information from them seems to ripple back towards the future through the generations. So, based on testimonials from future citizens, it looks like any point in the future is in constant flux. Not by a lot—but enough so that a citizen who came here twenty years ago may have a slightly different story than another citizen coming here today…even though they originally came from the same Time. Isn’t that fascinating?”
We look at him, both confused. He holds up his hands, chuckling. “No need for you to lose sleep pondering this. But for citizens like me, it is quite interesting. Speaking of which—“he points at me—“it would be very beneficial if you would visit again another day so we could have the Map of Time properly updated with your latest information.”
“My pleasure,” I answer. And add, “There is one thing I have thought about since I arrived here. At WestMar, I’ve had conversations with a citizen from the 5th century as well as from the 31st. Without too much trouble, I could understand them both. Why?”
Hall’der smiles, looking quite happy to answer my question. “That is actually related to the information flow I just talked about. Remember, our Time receives citizens from the past and future. Citizens communicate—they always have. And they pick up slight grammar and word variations from all Times. When… if we leave this Time, we will bring with us our language and mix it with the language of our destination Time. The result is greatly to our benefit: language differs greatly location-wise… but a lot less so along the Time dimension.”
After some more conversation, Ehlmellah motions to me that we must return to WestMar. We thank Hall’der and start leaving. Then I turn around and ask, “Very last question—why does all this happen? The catapulting? Is there any meaning behind it?”
Hall’der is for a moment looking slightly sad. “I’ve asked myself that very question many times. Thing is—neither I nor our brilliant scientists know. I personally think Time has a purpose with it all… but it is probably too well hidden for us to understand it.”
His face lights up with a smile again. “Anyway, good meeting you. I hope I’ll see you again!”
As we exit the library, Ehlmellah whispers to me, “How odd. He only invited you to help update the Map of Time!”
A few weeks after, I was dismissed from WestMar. I moved into a tiny one-room apartment with Ehlmellah. The local bakery had recently lost two citizens to another Time, and we were lucky enough to take over their positions. It was a simple job with low pay, but it was enough to keep us alive.
I have always been grateful for opportunity I was given back then, but during my stay at WestMar, I discovered my true calling: helping other Time travellers.
After two years I had saved up enough money to start my nurse education. When I graduated, I started working at WestMar–alongside Marsaili, who was still there.
By this time, I had become a mother of two adorable little kids: Dhouglas and Vivienna. The father, and my husband, was no other then Hall’der… yes, we fell in love shortly after our initial encounter at the library.
Every day since our wedding day , we expressed gratefulness that we had been awarded yet another day together, as we fully well knew about the Timeoklean sward always hanging over our heads.
And the sword fell.
First on Vivienna, then fourteen years old.
Then, three years later, on Hall’der.
And finally, almost twenty-two years after I was catapulted into this Time, Dhouglas left me.
I had lost my entire family yet another time.
It took me a lot of effort to cope with my losses. But little by little, I managed.
I am writing this as an old woman. I have already lived longer than the expected age in this Time, so I don’t expect to live much longer. For some odd reason, I have never been catapulted again, and for this, I am grateful. This Time is now my Time. Even though I still miss Hall’der, Dhouglas and Vivienna, I take some solace that I may now have descendants in both the past and the future.
Time, I have come to believe, is neither a friend nor foe–it is merely the patient keeper of every story ever lived… including my own.