“Dear God,” Ashley cried. “Who would send this to you?”
“I don’t know. I’m not that person any longer. It must do with my past.”
We stared at the figure as it repeated the dance followed by the suicide at the end.
“Did you recognize the waitress?”
“You didn’t know her, Jayce? Did she look like someone you knew at some point in your life?”
“I don’t know.”
Ashley took me by my hands and looked in my eyes. I looked at her and glanced away.
“Jayce, I know your past is murky. You’ve done things you are ashamed of. I get it, but I need you to concentrate. Who was the waitress?”
“She wasn’t real, Ashley. I think she…it’s all in my head. I’m going nuts.”
“Then explain the thumb drive.”
“I don’t know.”
Ashley stood and walked across the small room to my burgundy recliner and sat down. She pulled the lever and extended the footrest.
“Something here doesn’t make sense, Jayce. She brought you the receipt and the thumb drive?”
“She said you dropped the thumb drive, right?”
“Do you have a twin you don’t know about?”
The sun had set, and the moon had taken its place in the heavens. Ashley was right. Something here made no sense. It was going to be a long night.
1500 years in the future:
The Council of Law Enforcers, or CLE, had communed in the case of Prisoner 117390. The long hallway to the chamber where the CLE was gathered was illuminated by a sphere of light that buzzed around the shoulder of the prisoner. The two guards trailed after him.
Prisoner 117390, Jayce Walker, grinned as he made his way to the chambers.
“What a circus. All this for little ole me?”
His chains rattled as he made his way down the hall. Jayce Walker knew what the Council would sentence him to. He would be sent to the Isle of Redemption.
“It’s their only course. I’ve broken out of all of the other prisons.”
He walked into the dimly lit room. Spheres of light floated in the dark room. It was said that the purpose of the dimness of the room was to represent the murkiness of justice. To achieve perfect balance within the system, sometimes the Council rendered a judgment that some might consider a ‘bad call.’
Jayce Walker had no doubts his case would be one such call.
Head Justice Wilma Evers sat in the middle of the desk. Her face had a serene look as she stared at him.
“Are you prepared for judgment, Prisoner 117390?”
“Call me Jayce. I’m ready.”
“Prisoner 117390, you’re sentenced to the Isle of Redemption, for a period of no more than five hundred years. There will not be any chance for a reduced sentence. No time shall be cut from your sentence for ‘good behavior.’
“I don’t do ‘good behavior.’
“Your crimes are particularly heinous and is not in accordance with our guidelines and laws. Thus, you shall be cast from our society. May God have mercy on your soul.
Jayce laughed. The Council of Law Enforcers stared at him incredulously.
“All I did…”
“…was kill every version of yourself in various timelines? You even traveled to the last version and corrupted his timeline with your evil.”
Head Justice Wilma pressed a button and the dancing character with two guns danced across the screen. In the middle, it spun around and said: “Kill yourself Jayce Walker.” It then shot itself in the head.
“Meh, I’ve gotten lazy. Besides, he was rather pathetic.”
“Yes. He was a soldier, a rather stellar one if his record is true. Yet, he is destroyed by the knowledge of what he did. Pathetic.”
“Time travel is forbidden. Interacting with any of version of yourself outside of your current timeline is forbidden. There are serious repercussions from screwing around in other timelines. Your actions could destroy us all.”
“I’ve upset you. My bad.”
“Guards! Take Prisoner 117390 to the transport to the Isle of Redemption. Now.”
Two black clad guards took Jayce by the arms and led him from the Council. Wilma shook her head in disgust.
“How could someone like Jayce Walker exist in this world they had created? The goodness of their world existed only because of the laws that governed their behavior. Love flourished here, how had evil infiltrated their midst?”