A Life Unexpected (4/15)
Apr. 6th, 2008 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberfocusChapter Four: Chasing A Memory
Ian McCullen was chasing a memory. Or at least he was trying to. He couldn’t have been more than four or five years old at the time, sitting on his Gran’s lap and fiddling with the funny silver pendant she wore around her neck. It was the first day he remembered seeing what Rose Tyler had called a time corridor. This one had been red, though most of the ones afterward had been blue.
He’d asked Gran what it was and she’d gotten a peculiar look on her face. “It’s a secret, Ian,” she told him. “But they won’t hurt you.”
“But what is it, Gran?”
“It’s beautiful. And it’s wonderful. And it’s amazing. But not as amazing as you are, my little love.” And she’d hugged the boy fiercely, her love for him radiating out of her so strongly he could almost see it.
Further queries had gone unanswered and had always caused a sad, faraway look in her eyes and he’d learned not to question it after a while. It was the same sort of look she got in her eyes when he asked about Mum and Dad after the accident, though she’d at least been willing to tell stories about them from time to time. She never talked about Granddad, though he’d found a picture of the man once. Gran had cried for days after seeing that photograph. He’d learned not to ask about him, either.
But those weren’t the memories he’d been rooting around for. It was something that Rose had said. She’d triggered a half forgotten memory of him opening a closet in the basement when he’d been about 6. He’d been looking for his Gran. It had been just before the explosion that had killed his parents.
There had been a tall cabinet inside the closet and the door had been slightly ajar. A soft hum had emanated from inside, beckoning him in. He’d reached for it, pulling the door open, and had been engulfed for just a moment in a large, swirling light funnel and it had been green, at least at first. Then it had turned purple and it had yanked at him hard, pulling him forward. He had screamed at the searing pain and everything around him had exploded. He’d never seen his parents again.
As he came out of the memory his heart was beating in that strange double-skip it had whenever his fight or flight response was triggered. He was sweating and every muscle in his body was tensed for flight. He took in several deep, cleansing breaths and willed himself to relax bit by bit. His muscles ached as if he’d run for miles without stopping.
He pulled the flat, little silver object out of his pocket. He called it his talisman, though really it was just a duplicate of the pendant his Gran wore around her neck. Whenever he was nervous or stressed he’d rub it between his fingers to calm himself down. It was a habit of nearly a lifetime. Gran had given it to him after he’d recovered from the explosion and it had always helped him to come out of his fears or his nightmares.
He turned it over in his hands. Despite all the years of using it like a worry stone the object had not worn smooth. The top of it was a circle that came down in a short line that elongated into a t with a longer cross bar than tail. The tail merged into a shape like an arrowhead only instead of a sharp tip it was rounded at the top edges and at the end. Various geometric shapes were raised above the surface, though the t itself was smooth. He turned it over in his hands and looked at the back. Six indented circles connected by five lines at sharp angles decorated the back.
Gran had never explained what it was other than to say it was his inheritance. He’d always kept it with him, though he wasn’t sure why. He just somehow knew it was important, that one day he would need it; it would answer all of his questions.
“Ian?” Rose’s voice startled him so much he jumped in his chair. “Sorry,” she apologized. “Are you all right? You looked like you were in a trance.”
“Just concentrating hard,” he managed to cover. He put the talisman in his pocket. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes,” she said with a fond smile. Ian felt startled all over again. Rose smiling was a whole different person. “So, why don’t you explain to me about our new project?” She reached back with her foot and snagged her chair, pulling it towards his desk. She sat down on it and scooted it up next to him as he pulled out the paperwork.
Her eyes focused on the photo on his desk. The woman in it looked to be about 60 years old. Her hair was white and her eyes were dark. Her smile reminded Rose vaguely of someone, but as she glanced up at Ian, she realized who. A glance back to the photograph and she looked at the little boy in it. Same smile, same ruffled brown hair and gentle brown eyes. “That you and your grandmother?” she asked.
“Yeah. She’s something else, my Gran.” He smiled at the photo then opened the folder in front of him. He pulled out a couple of 8 X 10 photographs and said, “We’re not sure what it is. It crashed in New Zealand last year and has been under quarantine ever since. It came down unexpectedly so no one was tracking it. We can’t get a straight answer as to why, but my theory is it turned invisible just before hitting our atmosphere. Have you ever seen one before?”
Rose stared hard at the photograph. “No, I’ve never seen it before, but…it seems familiar somehow,” she said slowly.
“Like there’s a rightness to it?” Ian asked quietly. She looked up surprised.
“Yes.”
“Almost a perfect memory of something you’ve never actually seen?” he asked intently, peering hard at her face.
“Like déjà vu. A perfect future memory. How’d you know?”
“Because that’s what I felt the first time I saw it. Saree was right about you. You are the right person to work with on this,” Ian said.
Rose furrowed her brow. “But if it’s in New Zealand how are we supposed to study it?”
“We’re not. There’s another one coming in. This time we triangulated where it’s going to land before it has a chance to turn invisible. We’ll fly up first thing tomorrow. It’s going to land around 4 p.m. and we’ll be waiting for it,” he told her.
“Land where?” She asked.
“Dolwyddelan Village in Snowdonia, North Wales.”
“Ah. For some reason I thought you were going to say Cardiff,” Rose said.
Ch. 5: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/31818.html
Ian McCullen was chasing a memory. Or at least he was trying to. He couldn’t have been more than four or five years old at the time, sitting on his Gran’s lap and fiddling with the funny silver pendant she wore around her neck. It was the first day he remembered seeing what Rose Tyler had called a time corridor. This one had been red, though most of the ones afterward had been blue.
He’d asked Gran what it was and she’d gotten a peculiar look on her face. “It’s a secret, Ian,” she told him. “But they won’t hurt you.”
“But what is it, Gran?”
“It’s beautiful. And it’s wonderful. And it’s amazing. But not as amazing as you are, my little love.” And she’d hugged the boy fiercely, her love for him radiating out of her so strongly he could almost see it.
Further queries had gone unanswered and had always caused a sad, faraway look in her eyes and he’d learned not to question it after a while. It was the same sort of look she got in her eyes when he asked about Mum and Dad after the accident, though she’d at least been willing to tell stories about them from time to time. She never talked about Granddad, though he’d found a picture of the man once. Gran had cried for days after seeing that photograph. He’d learned not to ask about him, either.
But those weren’t the memories he’d been rooting around for. It was something that Rose had said. She’d triggered a half forgotten memory of him opening a closet in the basement when he’d been about 6. He’d been looking for his Gran. It had been just before the explosion that had killed his parents.
There had been a tall cabinet inside the closet and the door had been slightly ajar. A soft hum had emanated from inside, beckoning him in. He’d reached for it, pulling the door open, and had been engulfed for just a moment in a large, swirling light funnel and it had been green, at least at first. Then it had turned purple and it had yanked at him hard, pulling him forward. He had screamed at the searing pain and everything around him had exploded. He’d never seen his parents again.
As he came out of the memory his heart was beating in that strange double-skip it had whenever his fight or flight response was triggered. He was sweating and every muscle in his body was tensed for flight. He took in several deep, cleansing breaths and willed himself to relax bit by bit. His muscles ached as if he’d run for miles without stopping.
He pulled the flat, little silver object out of his pocket. He called it his talisman, though really it was just a duplicate of the pendant his Gran wore around her neck. Whenever he was nervous or stressed he’d rub it between his fingers to calm himself down. It was a habit of nearly a lifetime. Gran had given it to him after he’d recovered from the explosion and it had always helped him to come out of his fears or his nightmares.
He turned it over in his hands. Despite all the years of using it like a worry stone the object had not worn smooth. The top of it was a circle that came down in a short line that elongated into a t with a longer cross bar than tail. The tail merged into a shape like an arrowhead only instead of a sharp tip it was rounded at the top edges and at the end. Various geometric shapes were raised above the surface, though the t itself was smooth. He turned it over in his hands and looked at the back. Six indented circles connected by five lines at sharp angles decorated the back.
Gran had never explained what it was other than to say it was his inheritance. He’d always kept it with him, though he wasn’t sure why. He just somehow knew it was important, that one day he would need it; it would answer all of his questions.
“Ian?” Rose’s voice startled him so much he jumped in his chair. “Sorry,” she apologized. “Are you all right? You looked like you were in a trance.”
“Just concentrating hard,” he managed to cover. He put the talisman in his pocket. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes,” she said with a fond smile. Ian felt startled all over again. Rose smiling was a whole different person. “So, why don’t you explain to me about our new project?” She reached back with her foot and snagged her chair, pulling it towards his desk. She sat down on it and scooted it up next to him as he pulled out the paperwork.
Her eyes focused on the photo on his desk. The woman in it looked to be about 60 years old. Her hair was white and her eyes were dark. Her smile reminded Rose vaguely of someone, but as she glanced up at Ian, she realized who. A glance back to the photograph and she looked at the little boy in it. Same smile, same ruffled brown hair and gentle brown eyes. “That you and your grandmother?” she asked.
“Yeah. She’s something else, my Gran.” He smiled at the photo then opened the folder in front of him. He pulled out a couple of 8 X 10 photographs and said, “We’re not sure what it is. It crashed in New Zealand last year and has been under quarantine ever since. It came down unexpectedly so no one was tracking it. We can’t get a straight answer as to why, but my theory is it turned invisible just before hitting our atmosphere. Have you ever seen one before?”
Rose stared hard at the photograph. “No, I’ve never seen it before, but…it seems familiar somehow,” she said slowly.
“Like there’s a rightness to it?” Ian asked quietly. She looked up surprised.
“Yes.”
“Almost a perfect memory of something you’ve never actually seen?” he asked intently, peering hard at her face.
“Like déjà vu. A perfect future memory. How’d you know?”
“Because that’s what I felt the first time I saw it. Saree was right about you. You are the right person to work with on this,” Ian said.
Rose furrowed her brow. “But if it’s in New Zealand how are we supposed to study it?”
“We’re not. There’s another one coming in. This time we triangulated where it’s going to land before it has a chance to turn invisible. We’ll fly up first thing tomorrow. It’s going to land around 4 p.m. and we’ll be waiting for it,” he told her.
“Land where?” She asked.
“Dolwyddelan Village in Snowdonia, North Wales.”
“Ah. For some reason I thought you were going to say Cardiff,” Rose said.
Ch. 5: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/31818.html
