Chronosphere- A short story

Psychiatrist Doctor Monroe sat across from his newest patient known as John Doe, looking at the medical records. The doctor noticed that John Doe was still unaware of how he got to this hospital.

After only a couple of sessions, Dr. Monroe was beginning to suspect that his patient was suffering from some form of Dissociative Disorder. He’d seen hundreds of patients over the years, but something was telling him he needed to ask a few more questions. He needed to keep digging.

“Good morning, John. How are you doing this morning?” Dr. Monroe asked.

“Fine, I guess. Have you seen my uniform? Laundry service must be running late. I’ll have to talk to the captain about that,” John replied.

“Can you tell me a little more about your uniform? What does it look like? Maybe I can get someone to look into why it’s not ready for you,” Dr. Monroe said.

“Standard military fatigues,” John answered coolly.

“I’m sorry, which branch was that again?” Dr. Monroe asked, fishing for more clues.

John stared at the ceiling. His eyes fixated on an unseen object.

“John, do you remember when we first met and they brought you to me?” Dr. Monroe asked.

John stared at the ceiling but didn’t move.

“John, why were you in that field naked?” Dr. Monroe asked.

“I was… being held captive. They were going to torture me, but I escaped,” John replied.

“Who was going to torture you?’ Dr. Monroe asked.

“Germans. The SS was going to torture me, but I managed to get loose and run. I took several of them out along the way too,” John answered.

“You aren’t in Germany though. How could you have taken on German soldiers if you were actually in the middle of the United States?” Dr. Monroe asked.

John Doe didn’t answer but started fidgeting with his fingers.

“John, are you going to talk to me?” Dr. Monroe asked. He was starting to think that the repressers he had given his patient weren’t working, or perhaps had been a little too strong.

“Can I have the radio today, Doc? I could use some music to listen to,” John asked.

In the first couple of sessions, John kept mumbling words that sounded like nonsense. When Dr. Monroe realized he was singing parts of a song, he decided to use that as a positive reinforcement if John was cooperative in a couple of sessions.

“Yes, but remember when you asked last time, I said you could have the radio if you cooperated and answered some questions. Remember?” Dr. Monroe asked, hoping to get a reaction out of his patient.

“I remember. I can’t answer those questions you asked me though. You aren’t authorized,” John replied. He turned his gaze towards the doctor but stared straight ahead as if looking straight through Dr. Monroe.

“Forgive me, I’m sorry. How about this - what can you tell me about the SS soldiers that were holding you captive? Do you know where by chance? Or how about how many there were?” Dr. Monroe asked. He was trying to change his tactics. “Answer me those two questions and not only will you get the radio, I will get you a special dinner tonight.”

John was quiet for a second. He had a calculating look in his eyes. He was trying to decide how much he could reveal, or whether the bribe of food was worth the risk.

“Okay, deal. So, radio and dinner. Can I get a beer too?” John asked. He was trying to swing the deal in his favor.

“Sure, what kind?” Dr. Monroe asked.

“I don’t care, just not any of that German beer. Anything American,” John answered.

“Deal. Now, how about the answers to my two questions?” Dr. Monroe asked.

John looked around the room as if searching hard for something.

“What are you looking for?’ Dr. Monroe asked.

“A map. Got one?” John asked.

“Sure, just a sec,” the doctor got up and pulled out a folded world map and laid it out across his desk.

John got up and walked over to the desk. He looked around the map until his eyes locked onto an area in the vicinity of the North Pole.

“There,” John pointed to a small island in what looked to be the Barents Sea.

“Were you on that island?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, but only for a day or two. One of the soldiers let his guard down, and I slammed his skull against the wall. I’ve never seen a man’s head gush so much blood,” John replied casually.

“Then what did you do?” Dr. Monroe asked, intrigued yet terrified to learn the remainder of the story.

“I took that dead son-of-a-bitch’s clothes and put them on, then I moved his body to the cot I had been sleeping on. Then I grabbed his keys and his gun and headed out. I kinda made a mess of things though. I made it pretty far before I got stopped. Someone must have realized I wasn’t an SS soldier,” John recalled.

“Then what did you do?” the doctor asked.

“I shot my way out of the bunker. I made it out, but as soon as I made it out of sight of anyone on the base, I realized I was on an island,” John answered.

“Did you make it off the island?” the doctor asked.

John stared at the map.

“I killed them doc, all of them,” John said. A blank stare formed in his eyes.

“You did what you had to do, soldier. Now, how about a nice steak and baked potato?” the doctor asked, not wanting to push him too far in this session. He sensed if he gradually built his trust, John would be more likely to reveal more and more with each session.

“And the radio. I still get the radio, right? I can’t get these damned lyrics out of my head,” John said, pounding his head.

“And the radio, yes. Why don’t I get you back to your room, and I’ll call in your dinner order myself. Deal?” Doctor Monroe asked.

“Don’t forget about our deal,” John reminded the doctor.

“I won’t forget. Let me get the nurse to take you back to your room, then I can get your dinner ordered. I will hand deliver it to your room when it gets here. Hell, I may have the same thing as you. Steak sounds good tonight,” the doctor said.

“Attaboy, a little steak and a cold beer to wash the day’s troubles away!” John said.

A male nurse, easily twice as big as either the doctor or John Doe came in and escorted John to his room. As soon as John Doe had left the room, Doctor Monroe picked up his office telephone.

“Hi Betty, look, I need a favor. I need to make a dent in this John Doe case. I want to try a new tactic,” Doctor Monroe said into the phone’s receiver.

“Sure, whatcha thinkin’?” the woman on the other end of the call asked.

“Well, for starters I need two steaks, medium rare, two baked potatoes with butter and sour cream, and two beers. Oh, and make them American beers,” the doctor replied.

“Dr. Monroe, need I remind you about hospital policy about alcohol?” Betty asked.

“What, that we should all be imbibing more often?’ the doctor replied with a hint of sarcasm. “Look, I need to try this. If it doesn’t work, then the board can fire me. Do whatever you have to do. Oh, and for God sakes, bring me a radio.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but all I have is that old mp3 player and some headphones,” Betty replied.

“I’ll take it. Bring everything to my office when it’s ready. I told that John Doe patient of mine I would hand deliver,” Doctor Monroe said.

“Geez, I wish someone would hand deliver me a steak, baked potato, and a beer,” Betty teased.

“Add one more to the bill then. I’ll pay for the whole thing. Make sure they see my name. It’s probably better that way.”

“Will do. I’ll bring it all up to you as soon as I can,” Betty said, then hung up the phone.

Doctor Monroe turned on his computer and started an internet search on the area of the map that his patient had described. As the online articles came up, he realized there was no way things could line up with what his patient was saying. Obviously, the first thing out the window was John’s age. He had to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, based on physical appearance, but something didn’t seem right. One article after another, he started seeing images of the remains of what looked to be an underground bunker and Nazi swastikas on the walls.

Doctor Monroe sensed there was something more to John’s story than what was being told, but from the notes he had taken from the last two sessions, everything the doctor had been hearing and seeing from his patient led him to believe that John was suffering from what was likely Dissociative Disorder or something similar.

There was another possible disorder- Chronesthesia, or the ability to recall past events, almost as if a person were time traveling to the past in their mind, but living there as if it were the present. John certainly had described things as if he had actually been there.

Suddenly, the doctor recalled notes from his patient's medical exam from when he was brought in.

The doctor pulled up his patient’s medical records and started looking through them until he found what he was looking for. It was a picture of what looked like a brand or a tattoo. It was a series of numbers that had been tattooed on his chest.

Doctor Monroe tried cross referencing the numbers, but ran into a dead end. There was one more thing he could try - he had a contact in the military that specialized in special cases. It had been a long time since a call had been made, but maybe there was still hope.

He looked up the number and called it. After three rings, there was a simple beep that signaled the caller to leave a voicemail after the tone.

“This is Doctor Monroe. I have something that might be of interest, call me back as soon as you get this.”

The receiver was no sooner placed back in the cradle when the phone rang.

“Hello?” Doctor Monroe said.

“This is Captain Stockton. Is this Doctor Monroe?”

“Yes.”

“What do you have for me?” Captain Stockton asked.

“Well, I’m not sure how to explain this, but I have a John Doe that was found in a field a few miles north of town,” Doctor Monroe said.

“And?” the Captain said.

“He was laying naked in a field and when the medical exam took place, it was notated in his records that there is a tattoo on his chest,” the doctor started to explain.

“Why is this of interest to me?” the captain asked with a hint of impatience.

“Because my John Doe just described being held in a secret Nazi SS bunker where they tattooed on him a type of prisoner numbers,” the doctor explained.

“Did he say anything else? Or has he asked for anything?” the captain asked.

“Yes, actually. He asked for a radio. He said he’s had these song lyrics stuck in his head,” the doctor answered.

“Don’t give it to him yet. I’m on my way,” the captain said, then hung up the phone.

Doctor Monroe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, then placed it back in the cradle.

There was a knock on his door. Startled, Doctor Monroe jumped. It was Betty.

“I have your food order, and by the way, thank you for mine. It looks delicious!”

“Ah, I almost forgot. Go ahead and set it there on the table. I’ll take it down to John Doe in a minute,” the doctor answered, distracted.

Betty looked at Doctor Monroe and noticed he was acting a little strange.

“You okay?” Betty asked, reading his expression.

Doctor Monroe looked up at her, then quickly around the room.

“Shut the door and come here. Hurry,” he snapped

Betty set the food down on the table, then shut the office door. She quickly made her way over to Doctor Monroe’s desk.

“What’s going on?” Betty asked.

“There might be military personnel showing up very soon. I made a call to a military contact about my John Doe patient,” the doctor explained.

“Oh my goodness! Is he a terrorist?” Betty asked, worried.

“No, I don’t think so. I guess we’re going to find out though,” Doctor Monroe replied.

“So are you still taking the food down then?” asked Betty.

“Yeah, I’m at least going to do that. I can’t let him know that I know something might happen,” the doctor replied.

“Good idea. Want Bruno to come with?” Betty asked.

“Yeah, not a bad idea. He can stand outside the door just in case,” Doctor Monroe said.

“Alright, well, let’s go. I’ll go finish my dinner and you go have yours with your patient. Please be careful,” Betty said.

“I will, and if a Captain Stockton shows up, try to give me a heads up so I can decide if I need to be prepared for anything,” Doctor Monroe replied.

“Will do. Now go enjoy your dinner,” Betty said, then left the office.

Doctor Monroe gathered the food items, then headed towards his patient’s room. He made sure that Bruno was coming along. Now that word had gotten out to at least a certain branch of the military, he needed to be on guard for any unexpected, possibly dangerous situations that may arise.

When he arrived at his patient’s room, Doctor Monroe found John Doe staring out the window. His patient’s room had a view of the lake that was behind the hospital. It wasn’t a bad view to have.

“Well, as promised, steak and baked potato for dinner, and I managed to smuggle you in a beer. Two beers to be exact,” the doctor said.

“I’m ready to eat when you are,” John Doe said.

He reached over and cleared off the side table so his dinner could be placed there.

“Did you bring a radio?” John asked anxiously.

“I’m still working on that. What song did you say you had stuck in your head?’ the doctor asked.

“It goes something like, always being here, looking out from behind these eyes, and something about feeling more than a lifetime,” John explained.

Bruno suddenly poked his head into the room.

“I know who that is! It's a Pink Floyd song called “A New Machine.” Good song. The second part is pretty good too.”

The doctor looked back at his patient expecting to see that ‘Ah-ha!’ expression, but instead he saw John with his fork almost up to his mouth, as if he were about to take a bite.

“John, you okay?” Doctor Monroe asked.

The fork suddenly dropped out of John’s right hand and with a quick movement of his now empty hand, he double tapped with his forefinger and middle finger on his left wrist and then spoke out loud- “This is Agent Andrew Carmichael. I need a new machine now. Code red. I repeat code red.” There were audible beeps after tapping on his wrist as well as after he spoke.

The man now known as Andrew Carmichael looked up at Doctor Monroe and his orderly Bruno and smiled.

“I gotta hitch a ride. I’ve been recalled,” Andrew said.

“What do you mean?” Doctor Monroe asked.

“Did you contact anyone?” Andrew asked.

“A man named Stockton. Captain Stockton. Why?” the doctor asked.

“You might as well kill yourselves now or come with me. I don’t have time to answer all your questions, but let’s just say that I’ve been around for a while and seen a few things,” Andrew said vaguely.

“How about we just eat our dinner and talk about something other than what’s going on right now,” the doctor asked. He sensed something more was going on but was trying to keep his cool.

“Sorry, doc. I can’t. Look, I know you think I have some sort of dissociative disorder just like the others, but I promise you I don’t. I am a time agent from the year 2304, and that Captain Stockton you just mentioned - I’ve been after him for a very long time. Who do you think gave me this tattoo?” Andrew said, pointing to his upper chest area.

Doctor Monroe now faced something completely unordinary, and there was something more to the story with the man in front of him. He was sure of it. Something was telling him to trust Andrew and let him do what was needed.

“Let’s say I halfway believe you, I’ve gotta have something more to go on. Do you realize how many patients I have seen over the years that have had similar stories to yours?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, but how many of your former patients can actually travel through time?” Andrew asked, smiling.

Suddenly, the air in the room began to fill with electricity. The light bulbs suddenly exploded, causing the doctor and Bruno to cover their heads in hopes that no glass would hit them.

“You got about five seconds, then you’re going to want to have an escape plan of your own. Stockton is a ruthless killer, and he will end you,” Andrew warned.

A strange looking mirage started to appear before their very eyes. Images of people were becoming visible as well as curious looking machines that were racing about.

“Looks like my ride's here, doc. I gotta go. You coming?” Andrew asked. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Doc, what if he’s right?” Bruno asked.

Doctor Monroe looked back at Bruno, then back at the mirage.

“Two seconds, doc, then you're on your own,” Andrew warned again.

“Ah, hell with it. Come on, Bruno. You only live once!” Doctor Monroe shouted.

The sound of wind rushing now filled the air. The electrical current in the room looking more like a giant Tesla coil with every second that passed.

Doctor Monroe stood up and stepped towards Andrew. Bruno followed suit.

“Let's go, Agent Carmichael. Take me to your leaders. They have some explaining to do!” Doctor Monroe said.

“Attaboy! Come on, Bruno, I have a new job for you!” Andrew said.

Andrew led the way as all three men stepped into the electrified swirling mirage.

There was a sudden burst of energy, blowing out the window in the room, then all was quiet.

Shouting from down the hall could be heard. It was Captain Stockton and a couple of his men. They had just missed capturing Andrew.

Their plans had been ruined.

For now.

Meanwhile, back in 2304, Andrew Carmichael, Doctor Monroe, and Bruno were safe and sound in the Chronosphere.

The Chronosphere was a large underground black ops facility where special projects like time travel were made possible.

Agents like Andrew Carmichael and many others, protected the citizens of Earth in the year 2304 from people like Captain Stockton who sought to rearrange the time continuum to their benefit and destroy anything and anyone that got in their way.

So for now, the Chronosphere and its agents would stand guard at the gates of Time keeping all that pass through in check.

Andrew Carmichael would continue his time traveling adventures to try and stop Captain Stockton and his minions from corrupting the events in the time Continuum, no matter what it cost him personally.