s3.e17.seriesfinale_part2

Moribund Animus

           “It’ll be quick. Just a little pinch,” Old Wes promised, and the exo-legs he wore scrunched him down and wound their servo-springs. “You’ll go to sleep, and wake up back in the house with no memory of your meddling. I don’t know what Warren’s told you, but I did not want him or his sister to disappear. That was my mistake, and when I say I need to get back to work, it’s to let them exist along with… other achievements.”

           “The Toy Run?” Wes scoffed. “You think doing that even remotely compares?”

           “It was only the first big win for us! There were going to be more!”

           “Way to mess up everything with the first ‘big win,’ Old Dad…” Warren muttered.

           “Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Zach’s voice could be heard from the kid crowd. “Wes actually gets into the Toy Run? Holy crap!” he turned to Wessy. “Congrats, man!”

           “Z! That’s your takeaway from all this insane time travel stuff?!” Colin exclaimed.

           “It was never legit,” Millie emphasized to her peers. “Old Wes cheated! He set it up so his eleven-year-old self would win! Sorry, Wes, but you weren’t meant to do it.”

           The original Wes chuckled. “Old Wes? Eh, call me that if you want. But I still feel like a kid inside.” He then growled, “It’ll work. I’ll make it all work. I just need time.”

           Without any further warning, he leapt at his younger self, still separated from the others. His military-grade cyber legs propelled him at great speed, and his stinger was pointed forward. One little nick from it, and someone would get petrified.

           Wes had no time to react, but Warren was on top of it, moving just in time to deflect the stinger with his heavy blade. This actually took Old Wes a little by surprise.

           “Warren, that isn’t even your dad! You really think he’s that different from me? You think he won’t ‘betray’ you later on, like you believe I did? We’re equally selfish!”

           “It’s good you can admit that,” Warren groaned under the strain of the stronger exo-arms pressing down on his defending sword. “But, yeah, he’s changed, too.”

           “Kid… we’re going to have a nice, long chat after this,” Old Wes grumbled.

           With that remark, something barely comprehensible transpired. Before Wes had a chance to back away, his other self unleashed a flurry of stinger strikes. They came so quickly that it was like he could only see the after image of each attempt. Old Wes attacked each second, for thirty of them, going for a different vulnerable spot every time and moving around him like a ticking clock. In each instance, no matter the angle of attack, Warren was there to knock him away by using his weapon as a shield.

           When the barrage finally stopped, Warren was panting but his dad didn’t look nearly as tired, given that his mechanized augments did most of the work.

           “You really aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Old Wes impatiently sighed.

           “Warren, what’s happening?” Wes asked anxiously. “It was like you just did some kind of interpretive dance around me at one frame a second.”

           “Ugh…” Warren huffed. “I kept jumping backwards, but I couldn’t really go anywhere to block his attacks! I think I only had one chance, each time.”

           “Oh. There’s a simple explanation for that.” Old Wes pointed to the large metal box on his back, as bulky as a proton pack from Ghostbusters. “The portable null-field generator I’m hauling around—it’s configured to reset time here every second, its lowest setting. So, ya know, the time horizon is always just behind us.”

           “Damn it. That means we pretty much only get one chance,” Jace replied.

           “One second is better than nothing,” Wes said aggressively, getting his spine back as he pulled out his belt and wrapped it around his left palm to keep his blue quartz strapped to it again. “Thanks, kid. You gave me enough time to get over this old joke showing up suddenly. We took down his stolen daemon. This? It’s nothing.”

           “Really? Wanna bet?” Old Wes laughed. “Tch. Fine. I guess I should get serious and activate my super-cool futuristic battle armor. Watch… this!”

           Instead of doing anything “super-cool,” Old Wes actually went for a fake out, and simply tried to jab Wes again. But Warren had kept his guard up, and having stored up some power in his own exo-arm, his blade’s edge reached his dad’s wrist-mounted stinger first and at the instant he swiped towards it with inhuman speed and strength.

           “… Huh?” Old Wes murmured when he realized his big needle had diminished reach. He looked at the severed stinger, dripping oozing nanites, then angrily snapped off what remained and tossed it to the ground. “All right. Ya know what? I’m glad. I was going for the ‘quick kill’ to end this easy-like, but we can do it the fun way, too.”

           He leapt backwards to safety, where he gave his wrist-mounted screen a few taps. Four narrow and multi-jointed metal legs sprang out from his backpack, reached the ground, and brought him up into the air. Two handles also popped from his mechanical arms, which he gripped to control the appendages. At the same time, his real legs were immobilized by their exo-frames, so they wouldn’t flop about.

           “No, this is great, really!” He laughed. “Part of me did want to go after you like this from the start, just to see how you’d react! This is recon armor, used by soldiers in the 29^th century. And I’ve got some goodies in the ‘battle pack’ on my back, too.”

           But Wes brushed it off, replying, “You want me to stand here in awe of your future-tech, like a primitive yokel? Man, we both grew up on the same media! We already saw the future! So, no, your Invader Zim-style spider legs aren’t that impressive.”

           Old Wes’ face dropped, just a little. “Peh. Fine, be cynical. Look, I didn’t want to do this part, because the idea creeps me out. But since I don’t have a backup stinger, I really am going to have to, well… end you, buddy. Then all I have to do is close this null field and replace you. It’ll be okay. The pre-time-traveling you will still get to become me.”

           “Geez. That’s morbid. But I guess it’s happening, huh? As if your pet and that Time Cop captain weren’t bad enough. Now you’re making us fight.”

           Brian suddenly spoke out from the nearby crowd of students, probably out of massive anxiety and just to try and break the tension, “It’s… It’s like a f-final boss!”

           “Ha! I guess so!” Old Wes laughed again. “Good guy, that Brian Moreland. And don’t worry, Wes. I won’t hurt anyone else. You’re the only duplicate here. I just need to get rid of…” He then noticed that his counterpart was reaching for the well-hidden gun holster under his jacket. “Just try it. See what happens.”

           Wes prolonged the sudden high noon style showdown, drawing out the building suspense, with Jace and Warren at his side and trying to figure out a way to win. The old man watched in anticipation, gleefully waiting for the first move.

           And then… without saying a word, Wes turned around and started running as fast as he could, towards his classmates. Jace and Warren were equally caught off guard by the move, and awkwardly glanced at both Weses before running off themselves.

           “The heck?” Old Wes grumbled to himself.

           “Wes!” Warren yelled after him. “You can’t be a coward! You have to face him!”

           “Not being a coward!” he argued. “I need some time to think… and I’m worried about the kids being out in the open like this! Keep up—we’re going for shelter!”

           “Nick! Er, Wes, what are we doing?” Ms. Porter asked him when he got close.

           He looked at her, then her class and said, “I know you kids are all in good shape, so I need everyone to run away from the crazy guy. Galaxy Hub should be safe… er.”

           “If I’m getting all this right, isn’t that ‘crazy guy’ you?” Carson replied.

           “This is so confusing,” December added. “But if he’s a bad guy with future stuff, then running does sound like a good idea. And the Hub’s doors are pretty tough.”

           “Come on, class,” Ms. Porter said, ushering them into the open-air corridor of trees, model buildings, and other decorations. “It’s like a fire drill. Quick but orderly.”

           Wes, Warren, and Jace glanced back at Old Wes as they got a move on, who glared at them and rolled his eyes. This tactical retreat must’ve inconvenienced him.

           “Oh, sure. Yeah. Go ahead, run away,” he mocked them as they turned and did so.

           Just to make it interesting, he gave everyone a head-start of a few more seconds before giving chase, his four pointy legs drilling into pavement on each step and shaking the ground nearby from the weight of the battle pack and heavy exo-frames.

           On the way to the Hub plaza, Old Wes both taunted the gang and half-heartedly attacked them by picking up and throwing miniature village houses, mascot cutouts, and even a couple of statues, benches, and trash cans using his spider legs, keeping his aim solely on his three foes at the rear of the fleeing crowd. Some objects missed entirely and crashed into the surrounding décor, while others did pose a threat but were cut apart by either Warren’s blade or Jace’s laser rifle. Still, Old Wes wasn’t serious just yet.

           “Come on! Why do you have to fight back?” he exclaimed as kids began to emerge into the large area that featured the park’s arcade. “You guys aren’t built for serious time travel. It’s dangerous work! You’re lucky you even made it this far.”

           “You’re wrong! They’ve done some great things!” Millie fired back fearlessly as she ran with the others and Old Wes closed in. “They helped everyone—me, especially! And they fixed mistakes that both of you Weses left behind. The future is better!”

           “Better isn’t good enough, Millie. If they would listen and let me explain, I know I can clear all this up. It’s not like I have to kill anyone, if they agree to work with me.”

           Old Wes got hit by another rock from Celeste in response—or, at least it hit his forcefield and briefly slowed him down out of agitation. She childishly stuck her tongue out at him as Ms. Porter’s class reached the Hub doors and started piling in.

           “Grow up, Celly!” he admonished her. “I can’t believe I considered you for prom!”

           “Hey, know what?” Wes shouted while holding the door open for the kids. “I did go with her, and looking back, it wasn’t as bad as I thought! We made fun of the night!”

           “Seriously? Gross. Look, last chance. If you go in there, all bets are off. I can still fix all this, so by the time you turn into me, you won’t need to do any of this nonsense!”

           After Wessy was the last kid to go into the Hub—giving his mid-thirties self a confused glance on the way—Wes was able to safely say in response, “It doesn’t matter what I changed or didn’t change. Right now, the kids are real again. And for their sake, I’m done living with regrets. Good, bad, whatever. I want to say I enjoyed the whole ride.”

           “Aaagh!” Old Wes now looked genuinely frustrated. “You’re such an idiot!”

           He jabbed with his spider legs, but they only hit the solid glass of the Hub doors after Wes had quickly closed them. He thrashed and tried to pry them open and shatter the glass, but the entrance might as well have been an impenetrable medieval portcullis. Old Wes eventually backed away and gave up, at least for the moment.

           “All right. Fine. Fine!” he said in a voice muffled by the obstacle, and sneered. “You’re really going to make me use my weapon systems, aren’t ya? Sit tight, take your breather. I got something for ya. Heh. You’re gonna love this…”

           With that, he scuttled away on his robotic legs and out of sight, at last giving the other Wes a chance to face his classmates and a moment to process things. All of the game cabinets were on and running somehow, even in the null field, but it still felt eerily quiet as all the kids traded looks with each other, their teacher, and especially Jace, Wessy, the middle-aged Wessy, Millie, and the intense teenage ninja in their midst.

           “Okay…” Delilah broke the silence, and used expressive hand gestures. “Just… what the heck is going on? You said you were Jason’s dad, but you’re actually Wes? From the future? Like… you’re a time-traveler, and… that even older Wes is… evil?”

           “Yeah, haven’t you been paying attention?” Wright, still forcibly holding Willa’s hand, replied. “Don’t forget the part where Millie’s been helping them!”

           “I have been paying attention! It’s just so crazy that I need to know for sure.”

           “Kids, I…” Wes didn’t know where to begin. “This all started a long time ago, and it’s my fault. Jason… His real name is Jace, and he’s my nephew.” He and Jace both couldn’t avoid looking at Lucy, still sticking close to her brother. “Luce. He’s your kid. And you love him to death. I know. I know it’s so hard to believe. You’re shy and soft-spoken right now, but you do open up so much. You grow into someone… amazing.”

           She said nothing, so Jace added, “Mom. You and Lex become best friends.”

           “Jason?” Robby piped. “Er… I mean, Jace? Geez, that’s a weak fake name… Was that, like, a real laser gun you were using? Made from a park rifle?”

           “Yeah, it is. You actually seem pretty okay with all this, Robby.”

           He stood confidently and grinned. “I’ve watched enough sci-fi stuff to prepare me for this day. But I’m just wondering, if we found the other rifles we used during the tourney and combined them, could we make mega beams, too? They gotta be somewhere.”

           “Huh. No, sorry,” Warren replied. “I modified his using future-tech.”

           “Hey, I remember you!” Willa spoke up. “Robby, and Wrighty, my sugar booger,” she cooed, and Wright tried not to gag, “that’s Jace’s cousin! Cool ninja outfit! And sword!”

           “Back then, he didn’t actually know I was his cousin yet. He came from a world where I didn’t exist. We fixed that, but the dad I knew could make me disappear again.”

           “Oh, man. That’s confusing,” Park said thoughtfully. “What’d he do, anyway?”

           “The big thing that screwed it all up, was making himself get into the Toy Run.”

           “The… Toys ‘R’ Us thing, right?” Spice replied, and looked at Wessy. “Is that what your old dad was talking about with your super-old dad back there? I guess I get the ‘want to’ of it… I always thought it’d be great to get to do a Macy’s run like that.”

           “So, Wes really can’t do it?” Colin wondered. “Or else, he won’t have a family?”

           “We were never meant to, Colin,” Wes emphasized. “The older me set it all up.”

           Tammy and Trudy, scared and holding each other tightly, glanced at the Weses and asked one after another, “But who’s his mom?” and, “Who do you fall in love with?”

           Ms. Porter let out a groan. “Girls, whoever it is, she’s probably far away from here right now. Fate has a strange way of bringing people together. I’m sure she—”

           “It’s Sadie,” Warren curtly revealed, which resulted in fiery blushes from her and Wessy, a few ‘ooo’s from the class, and a stern look from Wes. “What? Aunt Lucy knows, so it’s only fair.” He added in a whisper, “Besides, you know we can’t let anyone remember this.”

           “Okay, that’s gross and everything, but…” Felicity looked through the glass of the doors, towards space-time’s edge. “What’s with the darkness all around us? Did he call it a ‘null field?’ Why aren’t any park staff getting inside this void place as it moves?”

           “Time works differently here. Maybe—” Warren tried to answer, but stopped.

           There was a high-pitched sound outside that quickly grew louder, and as it was obviously some sort of attack from Old Wes, everyone backed away from the doors.

           Just to show off, he didn’t even target the glass itself. Instead, he used twin streams of bright orange and golden searing energy to cut a new door around the original, slicing a square with such heat that the clean edges were left molten. He then kicked down the slab and doorframe attached to it with his spider legs, letting in the air. Embers and red-hot slag flew across the arcade carpet, leaving scorch marks behind.

           “Now do you see what you’re dealing with?” Old Wes said as he walked through the fresh opening, big enough to let his legs keep him four feet off the ground. “For the record, those were plasma steams, not lasers. And trust me, I have other toys, too.”

           “So cool…” Robby thought aloud, which earned him some glares from his classmates. “What? I know he’s the bad guy, but I still have to admire his tech!”

           “I’m not the ‘bad guy,’” Old Wes sighed. “None of you understand. I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I’m just trying to make my life perfect. Selfish? Sure! But the moment I found out that there was some… collateral damage, I’ve been doing what I can to fix it!”

           Wes looked at Ash, staying next to Arthur, but averted his gaze before she could pick up on it. He then pointed at himself and said in a scolding tone, “Actually, you don’t care about anyone else. You think you do, but it’s all skewed. Look, man, I saw the tapes from André’s lab. From a future I haven’t seen yet! It doesn’t matter if I’m an offshoot Wes who became self-aware. I can still say that you’re a major league a… a-hole!”

           “Mr. Colton! Language!” Ms. Porter chastised him.

           “Sorry, Ms. Porter,” Wes replied meekly, feeling like he was back in school again. “To be fair, I did catch myself at the end and try to dial it down.”

           “But he’s right, Ms. Porter!” Gerald said, having worked up the nerve to speak his mind. “Old Wes, I got no idea what all happened to you, but you aren’t the Wes we know! Sure, he’s a goofball and screws up sometimes… but he’d never betray a friend!”

           “Y-yeah!” Jared added. “He’s reliable, and he doesn’t like seeing his buddies sad!”

           Then Colin tried to get into it, “I’ve known you since preschool, and—”

           “Nope, stop—stop,” Old Wes spoke over them with a groan and dismissing hand wave. “We aren’t doing the whole ‘he’s so great’ thing. I’ll show you what we are doing.”

           He ejected the smoking, spent plasma capsules that were elevated by mini-arms over his shoulders, which then flipped backward to grab two fresh canisters. Once they were in position, that warming-up sound commenced again, and they began to glow.

           “Jace, Warren—help Ms. Porter keep the class safe. It’s me he wants.”

           “Ya think…?” Old Wes muttered as his plasma capsules reached peak intensity.

           The kids obeyed, and aided the teacher in wrangling her class away from the mad old man. Wes steadied his breathing and waited for a sign that the plasma beams were coming. When the capsules let out a flash, he sprinted in the opposite direction from his class, running behind arcade cabinets and hoping they’d provide some shielding.

           Protective shades deployed from the plasma capsule arms to cover Old Wes’ eyes as the two very bright streams of energy chased his younger meddling counterpart. Via his eyepiece display beneath the tinted glasses, he used a holographic targeting reticle to track Wes. The beams stayed locked on, yet were having trouble reaching the guy so that they could burn him into some fine ash particles.

           The problem was, he stayed behind cabinets. While the beams cut through them like paper, they still caused a small delay in plasma travel that when combined with his running speed, kept him clear of their wrath. They may have cut down games and left a trail of carbonized carpet in their wake, but Wes had become an aggravating fly to swat.

           After about twenty seconds of this, the capsules were almost empty—yet still had just enough fuel to hit their target when Wes found himself suddenly cornered near the bathroom doors and out of cabinets to hide behind. The beams came right at him, but were foiled once more, this time by Warren who had come out of nowhere and used his blade to block the plasma. The sword absorbed the energy and took on a red glow.

           “Damn it, kid!” Old Wes blurted out. “You’re still helping the wrong dad!”

           Warren didn’t budge, and when Old Wes’ eyepiece alerted him that the tap was about to shut off, he let his frustration get the better of him and swept the plasma across the entire Hub in anger. The beams were aimed too high to threaten the class, hunkering by the prize counter, but they were hot enough to instantly flash the water locked into the concrete of several pillars into steam and explode them, exposing the metal inside.

           “Wes!” Jace shouted nearby as the ceiling rumbled. “Remember when you taught me about load-bearing structures? I think now’s a good time to get out of here!”

           “Huh? What just happened…?” Old Wes mumbled and looked around, noticing plaster from the ceiling coming down like snow and landing on bisected, smoldering arcade games. “Well, crap, did I really just do all this to one of my favorite places?”

           While he gawked at his own destruction, everyone else took the chance to swiftly vacate the building through the large, plasma-cut opening. By the time Old Wes noticed, Warren was already the last one leaving—and he shot him an angry glare on the way.

           “Hey! Where do you think you’re all going?” Old Wes bellowed. He then accessed his null-field generator through the control panel on his wrist, and shrunk the total area of the dome down significantly. “Okay then, I’ll just give you nowhere to go.”

           “Everyone, stop!” Wes exclaimed out in the plaza, bringing the running kids and their teacher to a screeching halt while the dark dome around them became smaller until it blocked off all the area exits and touched the top of the Ferris wheel.

           “That old guy is nuts, dude!” Zach said, his shades on his collar and leaving his eyes exposed to reveal how much he was freaked out. “Can’t we just run through it?”

           “Bad idea, Z,” Old Wes replied as he walked over on his spider legs. Everyone turned toward him, with Warren and Wes taking up defensive positions in front of the others. “While in null space-time, there’s nothing out of bounds for us but pure chaos and possibilities. ‘Undefined reality,’ is what the 29^th century scientists call it.”

           “You destroyed Galaxy Hub!” Arthur fearlessly scolded him. “Our dad works here, and you’re trashing the park! We’ll lose the best place ever, and he’s going to lose his job!”

           “Relax, Arty. I don’t like it, either, but I can undo the damage, no problem.”

           Carson spoke up, “Um, Mr. Bad Wes? Can you let the rest of us go? Wes is cool and I hope you get this stuff resolved, but most of us have, like, nothing to do with it?”

           “Sorry, I can’t do that. I’d have to bring down the entire field, giving my dumber self a chance to escape. Heck, the two of us can’t even exist in the same place and time.”

           Wes took a breath and stepped forward, like he did at their first encounter. “Hey, could we actually… talk about things? We have all the time we need here, right?”

           “Why bother? You aren’t talking me out of this. It’s corny, but I’m sort of your reckoning. To put it another way, a ‘speech level of 100’ wouldn’t work against me.”

           “I get that. I just want to hear your story and take on things. Who knows, maybe you’ll even convince me to give up and let you take over?” He noticed Jace’s disbelieving gaze and whispered, “Don’t worry. I just want him to talk and give me more time to strategize.”

           “Huh…” Old Wes rubbed his chin. “That’s an ultimate form of narcissism, if you think about it. But it is quite a story, and I doubt Warren would share everything.”

           Warren glibly shot back, “You’ll just make yourself into the good guy.”

           “Gray areas, kid! What’d I tell you about ‘good and bad guys,’ and why I don’t put them in my games? Life and people are complicated. Anyway, how do I make this brief… I guess I’ll catch up my best ever class on the story so far. I was bored, old, felt alone, full of self-pity, blah-blah-blah. Invested years and cash in a pseudo-time machine project, a way to look into the past, in the 2040s with a genius partner at my side. Test run goes badly, there’s an accident, you get the idea. I ended up stranded in a chamber where time isn’t progressing quite right, stuck in the chair. I can’t move, sleep, eat or drink, yet have no need to. The one thing I can do is control the infinite home movies in front of me. I wish André were here, so I could tell him that our invention actually did work! Just not in the way we planned. There was no shut-off switch, no way to stop watching.”

           “That’s… crazy,” Wes replied. “And… how long were you…”

           “Over eight centuries. You heard right. Eight hundred years, awake all the while. I gave up on rescue after a year and embraced fate as I traveled through the original ticking present. Because I lived those years, they exist for all of us. At first, it wasn’t so bad. I got to see my life on repeat. I could rewind, fast-forward, skip to any chapter I wanted to revisit. But I couldn’t change anything, interact with friends. Imagine what that’s like. Of course the fun and nostalgia will crash down. You’ll fixate on every mistake, the dumb things you said in a casual chat. Snacks you begged for and then didn’t like, and missed opportunities. I’d come out of it, sure, but those feelings always came back. Waves.”

           “Y-yeah, that would be hard.” Wes tried to display empathy. “It would change how you viewed our history. You must’ve become determined to… be freed, of course, but also find a way to manipulate things and make the ‘perfect life’ after memorizing all the little things you saw as a less than optimal choice. I don’t blame you.”

           “Just let me finish. It was the cops that pulled me out of that prison, by the time I was really starting to lose my mind. They detected the machine as an anomaly, found a way to get to it, and were confused about what they saw. Other than the tests they ran on me, they were actually… mostly curious and courteous. I hadn’t broken any laws, as I traveled before any were written, so they let me go. And said that I might be the actual first traveler in history. I did so in real time, so I’m not sure about that, but I’ll take it. And, oh man, is the 29^th century awesome. You would’ve been in paradise, Robby!”

           The Hub groaned, but once it was apparent that it wasn’t collapsing just yet, Old Wes continued, “The distant future… It’s not as overcrowded as you might think. Sure, it has some mega cities, but also plenty of green and wide-open nature preserves. But no holographic ads, surprisingly. Actually, no advertising at all, now that I think about it. Never did find out how commerce worked. Anyway, yeah, Malcolm still likes it there. I enjoyed it, too, but eventually I wanted to start tinkering with my past. I snuck aboard a TMB shuttle to low orbit that took me to their global headquarters, which is where they operate their four Daemons. I believe to keep anything bad they might accidentally ‘pull through’ isolated in space. They didn’t really need all of them, so I borrowed one and used it to retool our history from a distance, safely. Until I got bored of that, and worried that I might erase my kids in the process. So I went to get Warren, when he was twelve.”

           “Is that really why you brought me? To see if I’d disappear, or suddenly feel like I was never born?” Warren muttered. “Hey, why don’t you tell him about Ash?!”

           “Ash…?” Wes was hit by realization, and he looked to see her giving an even more confused expression. “You mean… She was never supposed to… get hurt?”

           Old Wes sighed. “Come on, pal. As if I could’ve predicted a car accident. Chaos theory is impossible to quantify! I don’t know what little tiny thing I changed led to that, but I think it is actually the event that set all this in motion, and made you happen! And here we are now. I was on my way to correcting it, but you booted me out before I—”

           Wes had heard enough. Remembering all the pain he had felt in himself and in his friends after that bad news, his rage spiked, and he tore out his gun and emptied it until it only clicked. Kids covered their ears as shell casings hit the park plaza, but each bullet was stopped by the bubble around Old Wes, lighting up with an oil-like sheen.

           “Mr. Colton!” Ms. Porter snapped. “He obviously has a forcefield! You can’t just recklessly discharge a firearm like that! What if your shots ricocheted into someone?!”

           “Sorry, Ms. Porter…” he murmured back, and tossed his gun aside. “Damn it…”

           Disappointed, Old Wes activated a swarm from his pack that covered his spider legs in wriggling nanites. “Tch. That outburst says it all. You want a fight? Let’s do it.”

           “About time,” Warren said with a growl. He got in close to Wes’ side, handed him his magnetic holster once more, and raised his sword. “Bring it, old man.”

           “We’re with you, Unk!” Jace added, his rifle ready. “Let’s finish this weekend.”

           Just a few minutes after the real start of the three-on-one fight, Wessy and his classmates found themselves backed towards the edge of the black dome, huddled near the area’s running fountain where they watched the spectacle before them in awe. His friends stuck close, giving commentary and trying to get him to talk about the absolute absurdity of the situation, but the lad stayed unusually if not understandably quiet.

           Out on the battlefield, now the former plaza that connected the Hub and Ferris wheel to the rest of the park, the walkways had become a smoldering, cratered mess of debris like blown-up concrete and severed heads of mascot décor. Old Wes’ spider legs, covered with nanomachines that had extended his height and reach, were both his most frightening weapon and his only accessible “weak point,” if they could even be called that. The limbs partially extended out of his forcefield, meaning that the trio at least had something to attack and chip away at. Each direct hit destroyed a few hundred nanites that flaked off like dander, and gradually, the spiky leg armor was starting to thin out.

           “It hurts me to do this, I swear!” Old Wes shouted after initiating another furious barrage of jabs against Warren, as two more plasma beams passed through his forcefield and chased Wes—all while Jace fired back with his laser beam to cut apart the gloppy tar-like leg armor. “I don’t want to fight any of you! I’d prefer sitting around and hearing about your own time travel adventures instead, or having a laugh at the good old days!”

           “Yeah, sure you do!” Wes scoffed. “Right before you turn us all into statues!”

           The plasma beams caught up to him and snipped a lamp post on the way, but Wes was still able to use the sword holder to keep the superheated gas cannons from scorching him. By using the polarity-reversed heavy magnetic block, he could make himself an invisible shield that the plasma splashed into, causing it to spray away from his tender skin. But it came at a price: the block itself was also getting very hot.

           “Agh!” Old Wes burst angrily as he ejected two more spent plasma shells, and Wes waved his arm about in pain and patted his jacket’s smoking sleeve while muttering ‘ow, ow, ow’ repeatedly. “Just—how? HOW is that thing protecting you so well?”

           “I was learning about fusion power at school before you kidnapped me,” Warren, shaving off another sliver of nanites, explained. “Magnets can contain plasma if they’re strong enough! So I turned off the safety. It’ll burn, but better than being vaporized!”

           “Smart kid. But, man am I beating myself up for getting you that cool sword.”

           “Warren, it’s getting really hot. It might be the thing to set me on fire at this rate!” Wes yelled. “Old guy! Be honest. You have to be out of plasma shells by now, right?”

           “Still got a few left,” he answered, taking in a whiff of burning leather. “What, you bored of that? Me, too. Think it’s time I show you my coolest toy. Oh, and by the way… What’s with the 80s biker jacket? Do you actually think you look good in that?”

           “Wes, Warren! I can’t get through his forcefield!” Jace exclaimed as he let his laser rifle cool off after a sustained beam on the protective bubble. “I thought if I could just overload it or something, maybe we’d be able to fight him directly, but…”

           “Jace, little buddy,” Old Wes replied and tapped at his control screen some more. “It was mean of me not to tell ya this, but these barriers are even better at absorbing energy attacks over kinetic ones. If your uncle had maybe a few more guns, or a tank… Ah, hell, why am I even telling you this? Here! Let’s break out some pyrotechnics!”

           A bulky drone detached itself from Old Wes’ battle pack, taking about half its volume with it. Kept in the air by mini-rockets, it flew up some fifty feet and began to scan the group with a large sensor on its belly. At its sides were a dozen metal tubes.

           Wes asked Warren, “Uh, bud? Is that about to fire out what I think it’s going to?”

           “If you mean laser-guided micro-missiles, then… yeah,” Warren said with a grunt. “Jace, bring it down! I’ve seen him play with this thing when he gets bored—once it gets a lock on, there’s no escape for other kids’ drones! Er, or us, either!”

           “Oh, dude, you were blowing up kids’ toys?” Wes chided himself.

           “Don’t judge!” Old Wes fired back. “I had to test it out somewhere, sometime, and you remember how annoying those things got at the park when they were new!”

           During this little spat, Jace had already been keeping a steady, accurate searing beam from his rifle on the drone. The blue light was now thinner and not as bright, but was still making impact with a blazing intensity. Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing much, since the missile drone had a small forcefield of its own that ate up the laser.

           “That peashooter still has some charge left?” Old Wes said in a surprised tone. “Huh. You made that for him, didn’t you, Warren? When did you become an engineer?”

           “Jace, don’t give up!” Warren urged him. “No matter what, keep firing!”

           Even while under assault, the drone finished up its guidance work, and its tubes launched a swarm of seeker-missiles with a quick series of ploomf sounds.

           As the rockets went high up, nearly touching the top of the null-field, Old Wes said to his younger self, “Sorry I have to blow you up, but you’re too stubborn to…”

           When a flash went off above, he went quiet, looked up at his drone, and scowled as its forcefield vanished after a second burst of light. Clenching his teeth while he kept his laser focused, Jace then managed to melt the exterior of the machine and pierce its sensitive hardware inside. The drone wobbled and plummeted, and its twelve missiles went wild only a second after they had turned toward Wes.

           They bumped into each other and separated like a fireworks accident, spiraling off in unpredictable directions. A few of them almost instantly slammed into the Hub or Ferris wheel, while others continued to twirl in the air, out of control.

           “Everyone down!” Warren shouted to the class, and brought up his sword-shield.

           Ms. Porter, who was doing a good job keeping her mystified students wrangled, got the kids on the ground behind the fountain while Wes and Jace ran for cover.

           But Wes came to a stop, and instead of getting into cover himself, he looked up at the missiles and remembered how the old man had just revealed useful info: ballistic weaponry was effective against his forcefield. Missiles were very ballistic.

           “Wes, what are you doing?” Jace yelled at him from a scrunched position by a trash can, watching more small explosions go off nearby. “It’s too dangerous!”

           Holding his ground, Wes breathed and tracked the missiles carefully, huffing out, “Really wish I had gotten some little league experience with Colin and Jared right now.”

           “So annoying,” Old Wes grumbled while watching the careening rockets.

           Wes singled out one that was coming his way in time to position himself just right, and used his magnet-shield to redirect it—right into the Hub. But he wasn’t disheartened, since now he knew that it could be done. He only needed to adjust his aim. He saw another missile coming in, and rushed toward it without hesitation.

           “Hey… What do you think you’re doing?” Old Wes asked in his mocking voice, moments before a missile had its trajectory curved by a big magnet and exploded on his forcefield. “Wait—are you seriously…” Another tiny warhead hit him, and his bubble winced in pain, becoming thinner. “S-stop that! You can’t do that! It’s… cheating!”

           A third rocket, the last still flying, hit the field—and it vanished with a flicker. Suddenly very exposed, Old Wes lost his cool and, in a panic, created a nanite shield.

           “I don’t believe it…” Warren said to his cousin, and left cover. “Jace, his forcefield’s down! Now’s our chance—fire off whatever you have left!”

           Not at all expecting to be up against the ropes for a change, the senior Colton backed away from his attackers, but the large inky shield connected to his front spider legs greatly slowed him down. Warren and Wes were quickly upon him, with the ninja’s sword slashing at the nanomachine barrier and Wes repulsing away big globs at a time with his magnet. From a distance, Jace used what remained of his power cell, though the cutting blue laser only lasted another few seconds before it got too weak and vanished. His gun now useless, he tossed it aside and joined his class by the fountain.

           “Aw, is your rifle out of juice?” Robby sighed. “And it was so cool, too.”

           “I don’t think I can do much more in this fight,” Jace replied as he watched the battle continue. “This is more between them, anyway.”

           “No way!” Celeste exclaimed, and launched a slingshot rock that nicked away a couple more nanites—not that the combatants noticed. “Jason, Jace—whatever your name is—I’ve heard so much from your class about how you helped them out, and—”

           “We’re going to help you now!” Arthur cut in. He looked around at everyone, and acknowledged a few hesitant faces in the crowd. “Well, I think most of us will.”

           “I’m in!” Delilah said, pounding a palm with a fist. “What’s our plan of attack?”

           Meanwhile in the center of the plaza, Old Wes was getting his bravado back, and what he saw as an illegitimate assault was making him very angry. Each swipe against his shield only destroyed a few nanites at a time, as most were simply brushed aside before reforming. But it was the principle. He was the main character, and didn’t deserve this.

           “You aren’t getting through my shield!” he yelled as the liquid barrier continued to move, morph, and stretch to cover all his sides against direct attack. “So just stop—”

           Warren had been waiting for more rage and pithy remarks from his smug dad, and used the chance to enact his one and only plan. He released the grip on his blade, letting his exo-arm hold it for a moment on its own, and reached down with both hands to grab his new and only pair of battery bombs, which could fry nanites en masse.

           “Here!” he shouted and plunged them into the shield-swarm. “Snacktime!”

           When they detonated, electricity surged throughout the cloudy blob and several layers of the shield broke down into lifeless dust comprising thousands of tiny robots.

           “Argh!” Old Wes roared, pulling back his remaining nanites to form a thin fuzz of black on his four spider legs. “Enough already! You’re really pissing me off!”

           His mechanical limbs savagely lashed out with great speed and no warning, and both Warren and Wes were knocked back—with the ninja taking a far worse hit that his dad didn’t even seem to notice or acknowledge. He hit the ground hard, and his blade freed itself from his exo-arm, landing near his dazed head. Wes hadn’t fared well either, taking a heavy metal kick to the chest that left him winded, cracked a few ribs, and got him further separated from the others. But he still stood, and Old Wes didn’t like that.

           “You just don’t get it, do you? I’ve put in way too much effort and work to have my plans fall apart because some annoying… butterfly like you had a spiritual journey!”

           He planted two of the spider legs into the ground, and slammed into Wes like a rampaging swing set, both of his armored legs bashing into him and sending him to the ground. In substantial pain, Wes could only crawl backwards from his self-nemesis.

           “I get it,” Old Wes prattled on. “You’re mad at me! I would have fixed things to save Ash as soon as I had known! But the moment I did know, your loop had already been created! Can ya blame me for trying to kick you out all year? So what if I terrorized you with a techno-horror? Who cares if I miscalculated a bit with my lab bomb and ended up destroying the whole park? It doesn’t even matter that I got some confused Time Cops going after you! You know why? Because none of this actually happens! It’ll all be wiped away, and this won’t change my personal morality, because in the end, I’m going to make time my playground—and be happy. And I will make all of our friends happy!”

           Coughing, Wes replied, “You actually think… you’ll find happiness that way?”

           “I won’t know for sure until you’re out of my life, so let’s start with that!” he declared, and directed the last of his nanomachines into his upper right spider leg, where they formed a mean-looking five-foot-long dripping spear. “You were such a mistake.”

           Wes had backed himself up against one of the plaza’s concrete barriers, and with nowhere else to go, he could only use his arms to cover his face as the jet-black weapon came at him. If this is the end, he lamented, Warren, Jace… I’m glad I made the right choice.

           “What the?!” Old Wes’ voice came from the darkness of Wes’ closed eyes.

           He opened them to see something amazing. The tip of the spear was inches from his face, yet frozen in place—because most of his class was keeping Old Wes back.

           “Haven’t you kids been paying attention?” he said with a growl, looking back to see his childhood friends holding onto his two grounded robot legs, with determined scowls on their faces. “You’re all on the wrong side! That Wes is an imposter!”

           “Yeah, right!” Colin shot back, his hair a mess as he tugged with his friends. “I don’t care what ‘Wes’ you are—you’re a bully! Our Wes would never sound so mean!”

           Jace was back with Ms. Porter, pulling a barely cognizant Warren to safety as Spice, Trudy, Tammy, Brian, Wessy, and Lucy kept away from the intense melodrama.

           “This is just so weird…” Spice murmured. “But… maybe we should help, too?”

           At the legs, more kids sounded off to defend the Wes they knew. Each little affirmation gave the middle-aged version another morsel of confidence to get back up.

           “Wes can freak out sometimes, but he’s authentic, the real deal!” Park shouted.

           “He’s given me a lot of quarters, and his dares are fair and fun!” Wright added.

           At his side, Willa yelled, “Yeah, and he’s nice! And almost as cute as Wright, too!”

           “Dude!” Zach exclaimed. “Our Wes would never put himself above his friends!”

           “Wes is the best!” Celeste stated. “Doesn’t matter if he likes Sadie more! He’s a real original, and has made every day for his friends awesome. You aren’t at all like him!”

           “Would you all just let go and shut up for one second?!” Old Wes snapped. “I’m a time-traveler! I can make all your wishes come true. None of you would have to leave town, or drop out of touch. We could all get together on the weekends, and… Hey!”

           He had turned back around to see the remaining kids, except for his youngest self and sister, bashing away at his nanite spear with the sharp metal edges of found park signs in at attack led by Jace. Somehow, even Tammy and Trudy had gotten mad.

           “That does it!” Old Wes bellowed furiously as his anger peaked. “I said… let go!”

           His legs clamped down, built up tension, and released like springs, propelling him up and away from the kids who couldn’t keep a grip on the slippery limbs. He landed a few meters away, and upon noticing a covered power conduit close by, smashed a leg into it. Sparks flew and the area lost power, while his combat suit seemed to absorb the park’s energy. His protective forcefield was recharged and came back in an instant, but that wasn’t enough; he also wanted to replenish his nanomachines.

           “Watch this!” he yelled, and used his full-powered leg jumps to rocket himself to the Hub’s roof, and then all the way onto the side of the Ferris wheel. “Heads up, kids!”

           Though it could be seen as a way to demonstrate power or strike fear, Old Wes did have a reason for what he did next. His legs holding onto the big wheel’s axle, he used his final pair of plasma shells to create circling beams that cut through the spokes. Once enough were severed, the entire structure crashed to the ground and began to tilt.

           “Oh, no…” Ms. Porter ordered, “Kids, run to the fountain! Stay at the sides!”

           Old Wes leapt to safety as the wheel came down, breaking through its supports and crashing onto the plaza. Safe where he was, Wes watched in disbelief as the giant structure broke apart, threatening to land on his fleeing class. The eventual impact was tremendous, and the portion that landed on the Hub finally caused it to collapse, too.

           With dust and debris from the wheel and arcade in the air, Old Wes landed on the axle as his class, protected by the fountain’s concrete basin, coughed and brushed themselves off. The park destroyer’s spider legs began to glow bright blue, and the metal of the axle and several nearby broken spokes turned black as if they were decaying.

           “This combat suit is self-sufficient…” he snarled and approached Wes with a menacing gait, as iron turned into a liquid and crawled across the legs to armor and bulk them up. “I can recharge my forcefield, and convert metal into nanites! I’m untouchable.”

           Able to stand, Wes replied, “Yeah, well… we are good at closing ourselves off.”

           “Anyone hurt?” Ms. Porter shouted from the wreckage and took a head count—stopping when she saw a student in pain and trying to get free from a beam. “Ash!”

           “Ash?” Old Wes said, and looked to see her leg seemingly crushed under heavy metal, with classmates running over to help. “No… You! You did this! It’s your fault!”

           Unaware that Warren had just emerged from the scrap, Old Wes continued his march towards someone he wanted to erase from time. Behind him, Warren, on wobbly legs, tapped at his exo-arm to crank it up to maximum strength and came charging. Old Wes turned to him at the last moment, just as his kid slammed his sword into his barrier at full force—breaking the blade in half, but shutting down the protection once again. With his now stubby blade, he came in close and sliced off both of the lower spider legs close to their joints in one swift motion, shattering his sword entirely in the process.

           Old Wes cursed angrily and ejected himself from the suit, causing it to blast off into Warren and trapping him between its bulk and a wheel support. The pod’s former occupant, still equipped with enhanced arms and legs, launched himself over to Wes.

           “I overcomplicated things,” Old Wes said and approached like a walking brick wall. “I don’t need all of that. I’ll just beat you up and toss you right out of my life.” He delivered a powerful punch, straight to Wes’ gut—and kept doing so, delivering five hits in as many seconds, each one knocking him closer to the edge of null space. “You idiot! Ya had your fun, experienced some soulful awakening, and now you want to give it all up? What’s the alternative? Get old, pay taxes, do all that ‘adulting?’ You won’t even be able to undo any of our many mistakes! You’ll see a marriage fall apart, kids grow away from you, and what? These were the best years of our lives! They still can be, for all time!”

           With Wes thoroughly hobbled at this point, he threw a weak, aimless punch and got himself leg-swiped, knocking him to the ground. Old Wes crouched down after him, wrapped his hands around his neck, and pushed him out of the space-time barrier.

           It hardly mattered that he was being choked from the other side, as this strange realm didn’t seem to have air anyway. All Wes could see was a galaxy of swirling colors, some of which were new to him. Undefined reality, as it had been called, was a chaotic world of possibilities. But most notably, Wes was suddenly being flooded with all the new memories that hadn’t yet hit him. Here, they arrived all at once, instantaneously.

           His wedding, reunions with childhood friends, Sally and Warren as little kids, he and Jared starting a game company. But one stood out above the others, as if it was the one he most needed to see at such a critical moment. Despite being in mortal danger and with his head out in a cosmic netherworld, he was able to focus on it just long enough.

           A cloudy bright afternoon day, cool and windy. Birdsong. Lakeside, pines along a serene freshwater beach. Cabins dotted the landscape. Lake Tahoe? Must be. Wes looked back to see Sadie’s parents emptying out a rented cabin and filling an old station wagon. It was August, the end of the camping trip that they had invited him to join. School was starting soon. Jason had moved away, the Toy Run was a bust. Melancholia loomed.

           “Wes?” Sadie piped from his side. “You still thinking about it?”

           He turned around and looked at her, at the other end of a large piece of bleached driftwood by the shore. She still wore her hiking boots from the last walk they had all taken together that morning. A minnow bucket bobbed gently at the nearby dock.

           “Huh?” Wes murmured. “Uh… Ask me again.”

           “Geez, Wes. I could tell you were enjoying yourself out here until, like, the sun went down yesterday. Then you switched right into your ‘I’m worried about everything’ mode again. I just wanted to hear about your favorite part. I know you were surprised at how much you liked it here. Like I said… I did see it in you back at Morning Dew.”

           “Oh, right. Yeah, I was thinking about another summer gone by. I always get this way just before school… And I still miss Jason. Um, the forest—I like the woods the most. All the trees. Sorry, maybe that’s too simple of an answer.”

           “Nah. I like them, too. Every tree tells a story, right?”

           “Sure, but I think it’s mostly, I dunno… how timeless they are? Like, it’s easy to get lost out here. And I don’t mean like how your dad got us, uh, lost. Think about it. All of this was here a thousand years ago, and will be a thousand more, and… you can’t even tell what year it is out here. You know? It’s almost a sort of… break from time itself.”

           Sadie blinked. “Wow. I didn’t take you for such… a thinker. Heh, I guess you’re more than just a kid full of fun ideas and movie and game lore.”

           Wes looked down at the sand. “I always wanted to be more than… just that.”

           “So… are you at least going to watch the Toy Run this year? You always liked it.”

           “I dunno. I’d just see the kid I wanted to be. And that kind of, you know, hurts.”

           Sadie smiled. “I bet about a million kids signed up. Do you think you’re the only one disappointed? Doesn’t mean ya have to cut out a little part of what you enjoy.” She reached out and held his left hand, which he didn’t resist. “Cheer up. You didn’t need to do something like that for us to remember you by. We like you for just… being there.”

           His palm surprisingly not sweaty in her grasp, Wes whispered, “Thanks… Sadie.”

           Recalling and processing this memory only took Wes seconds, at which point his eyes jolted open and he found himself pumped full of anger and adrenaline. His elder’s mechanized frames were strong—but could only help so much, as he was stronger than Old Wes in an organic sense. With all his strength, Wes strained and pried the hands off of his neck and then pushed away the arms sticking through the solid black wall.

           As he kept hold of Old Wes’ arms, and before he might suffocate, he did the only thing he could think of and smashed his head back into null space from the ground. The headbutt made impact with something solid, and he was freed.

           He got back to his feet and, upon re-entering the King Arcade pocket dimension, saw that his other self was reeling and holding his forehead in pain. Now wide-open, his exo-limbs weren’t going to do any good unless he blocked off something vulnerable. That smug, self-assured face seemed a good place to start, so Wes started walloping.

           “You put us through hell when you took Ash from us! Broke our hearts, ruined everything!” Wes burst and hit himself hard, his fists powered by the self-pity and anger he had stored up over the years. “You erased your own kids! Made me a loner in a crummy apartment, with no hope for the future! You had it all, and you still gave it up! All so you could…” After the tenth punch, he slowed his assault. Just breathe, he thought. Think for a moment. “… Stay young forever. You thought it’d make you happy… You…”

           He looked above and past Old Wes’ bruised visage to see Zeff, his coat flapping in the wind atop the ruins of Galaxy Hub and waiting to be put to use again. A character like him—he can’t move forward. He is the rut. Nothing but blind anger, stuck in the past.

           Wes gazed at the face of what was perhaps an irreparably broken man, bereft of hope himself, falsely thinking he’d find it by looking back, and murmured, “No. No… you didn’t ‘give it all up.’ You just forgot. You don’t remember what all the good times we had felt like. Or you just… looked at them the wrong way; they made you sad instead.”

           Still in a stupor, Old Wes mumbled something incoherent and aimlessly swatted at Wes. He easily dodged it, and with an idea in his head, he got behind the dazed senior citizen and wrapped his arms around him, giving him a bear hug. Old Wes struggled as he was lifted up, flailing his now-useless exo-arms that didn’t add too much weight to what was a relatively frail guy who had neglected his physical health for some time.

           “Come on, buddy,” Wes said, suddenly feeling not all threatened by someone who started a fight with a powerful introduction. “I want to share some memories.”

           “What are you doing?” Old Wes exclaimed as he was lifted into the air. “Let go! Stop demeaning me! I controlled a daemon. I made the TMB’s top ten list! I will not—”

           His whining voice disappeared the instant that Wes reached the edge of the dome and raised up Grandpa further, pushing his head up into the chaotic realm above. Old Wes continued to flail, hitting Wes in the face a few times but not strongly enough to deter him. After a few seconds, the struggling quieted and then stopped. His goal wasn’t to suffocate the guy, so he opened his arms and let him drop to the ground.

           His legs shaking, Old Wes got up, and the two stared at each other for a silent moment. Grunts filtered into their ears, and they looked over to see the kids, Ms. Porter, plus Wessy and Lucy trying to get the massive wheel support off of Ash’s leg. They were tired and a bit beat up themselves, but saving a peer was a priority. Jace was on his own, helping Warren move the abandoned combat suit that had him trapped by a carriage.

           “Look… at what I did,” Old Wes realized as he surveyed the damage.

           “You okay?” Wes huffed out, his physical efforts starting to catch up with him. “We don’t need to fight anymore… right? I mean… we could just talk, or…”

           Old Wes wandered away wordlessly. Keeping his guard up, Wes followed, and they went over to Jace. He backed away and watched his elderly uncle use his exo-arms to raise the mini-mech-walker, Wes quickly pitching in. The nanites inactive dead weight, it took some exertion to free Warren, who stood and looked plaintively at his dads.

           “Sorry about your sword… kid,” Old Wes said, gazing down at the broken blade resting among the debris in the plaza. “… Come on. Let’s help Ash.”

           All four pensive about everything, they joined the other couple dozen kids at the big chunk of metal. They heaved-hoed, all three available exo-arms going into overdrive. Nearly thirty pairs of hands worked together to lift up the heavy beam a few inches with a groan, and Arthur pulled Ash out by her shoulders. Thankfully, she was able to stand with just a little wobble, as if she had a sprain. Relieved, Arthur hugged his twin tightly.

           “Whew,” Ms. Porter puffed after the beam was dropped back down. “Here I was thinking it was much worse. I guess your leg was just pinned. I’m glad you’re okay, Ash.” She then scowled at the Weses. “You both need a serious talk. Do you see the obvious lesson here? Even if it’s unintentional, your ambitions can really hurt your friends.”

           “Yes… I do now,” Old Wes murmured listlessly. “It was like my life flashed before my eyes, when all my memories hit at once. I had forgotten… too much.”

           Wes took a deep breath. “You know, ever since you first showed up, I was working on this big speech in my head. But you probably would’ve just agreed with everything I said. The only way this ends… is if we both grow up, a little more.”

           “Thank you for sparing everyone from another monologue,” Old Wes sighed.

           “Well, I do have one thing to say.” Ms. Porter crossed her arms. “As we’ve all just seen, class, there are few things more dangerous than old men with too much nostalgia.”