Time Traveler

He wakes up pushing his comforter away in a single swooping motion. He slips his feet into his warm slippers so customarily that they seem part of his body. He manages to stabilize himself sitting on the side of the bed and rub his hands awkwardly against his eyes. As his eyes open up gently, he looks at the size of his thick coarse hands. A croaking sound escapes his mouth - “What?” Misty, sultry, and mystic smells surround his nostrils and he looks around. A realization of the unknown and unseen runs through his vein and he suddenly feels unwanted and unidentified. The first solution is to verify the surroundings, and the second to wake himself up. Neither of them seemed to change anything. He was in an unknown place, in an unknown time, like an insect blustered away for miles by the winds to an alien surrounding.

A familiar voice enters his memory: “Son – Remember to make the right choice!” He gasps for air.

“I know your mother’s left her body already and I am going to join her soon.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t provide you more comforts in the past 12 years but remember us when ever you face a conundrum – you know what choices are right.”

As he groggily walks around the unfamiliar apartment, he searches for the time. Oh – 11.50 PM, but how did he just hear father’s voice moments before he passed away after that terrible accident. He bumps into a dingy wall with skewed mirror and gasps at the sight. “That’s me?” The image of the body attached to those hands sends a cold shrill realization in his blood. “What just happened?”

He places himself to be around mid-thirties – unshaven, bruised, short hair, chiseled face, but yet that boyish beam which he could always relate to. As he staggeres towards the restroom, the sight of faucet, the green towel and eerie picture of a frog on the side wall jolts him for a second. The kaleidoscopic nature of his brain makes him sneer in bewilderment. The warm water dabbed on his face serves as a numinous African magical healing powder – a shaking, yet reviving quality.

As he swabs himself with a moist cloth, thoughts become steadier. He is in a Hotel room, and he remembers the placement of his beeper. He jumps towards the communications device.

Beeper reads – “Hey D, We have the all checks in place, as per his orders - Fire away!! ”

BAM! –it all comes back- The button, the launch, the war, the covert training, the academy, the batch, the merit, the ranks, the works, the KGB, the defilement, the shame, the anger.

Snap! today is December 31, 1991. Ukraine dissolved from the USSR a few weeks back. A few weeks before that – the KGB sunk – destroying the identities of around a hundred operatives. All his efforts for peaceful restoration of his identity were being mocked at. The meetings of the defamed operatives last month had become focused around increasing the tension, a drastic change in the tactic from his Peaceful Alternatives Plans a few years back.

He remembers his corrupt yet charismatic chief saying a few days back, “Never mind the December 31, 1991 midnight, D and peaceful propositions for the future – We know the US will fire at will to destroy whatever they can. So Fire Away! Before they do!”

He glances at the file which contains the codes for entry into missile logistics system. 10 seconds to launch. One small missile fired without from an unknown underground bunker would send a panic wave around the world and may be give leverage to bringing back the USSR. The only flip side would be the pang of another cold war or larger scale destruction.

3 seconds remaining.

2

1

“Right choices, son. Right choices.” With his heart pumping heavily, he puts away the launcher and disarms the equipment. He tunes in the radio. Radio station chimes in a few seconds. “Breaking News! Chief of KGB has been captured…. guilty of treason….Government announces restoration …Repeat….Restore honor to covert officials… return back to base…”

He breathes a sigh of relief. Somehow –time traveling today never felt better.