Wait, did we skip a week there? I think we did. Let me see if I can remember how it went. I made a loosely biographical story about my dad putting down a cat who had been run over by a car. It stretched the rules to the breaking point, but I felt alright about it, considering the schedule I was on. Then I went to Mexico, not finding out my fate until I returned this past Wednesday. Happily, I made it to the final challenge.
That final challenge was an absolute doozy. A story where every 250 words, everyone forgot the events from the beginning of the story to that point. The final section was 'mercifully' allowed to have 600 words.
The intel was good, Malaracher is definitely here.
I slip away from the party to the basement beneath. It won’t be easy
to find him or the bomb down here. It will be far more likely that he
finds me. I begin to wish that I hadn’t told Hewitt to stay up with the
party guests – I could really use a second pair of eyes watching my
The gunshot I hear and the blinding pain I feel in my side let me know that my fears have been well rooted in truth.
Dammit, I’ve been sloppy. He knew someone was trailing him, so he
doubled back, and he knows the layout of the tunnels much better than I
do. Despite the vest, his bullet manages to find at least one or two
vital organs. I rise to my feet and try to give chase, but I slip on my
own blood and fall hard to the marble floor. My gun clatters away from
me, I scramble in vain to retrieve it, but my limbs suddenly feel so
heavy. Malarcher disappears into the darkness and I begin to feel woozy
from the blood loss.
I retrieve the cylinder from my jacket pocket and press the button.
Five minutes – not a second more or less.
The synchronization alarm goes off to let me know that the forced
loop was activated. That means that the first try must not have gone
well. In this situation, I suppose it’s natural to over-analyze what
mistakes could have lead to the need to start the loop, but that only
leads to situational paralysis, and if I’m going to prevent whatever
Malarcher’s got in the basement from going off, I’m going to need to
have my wits about me. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t make a
mental note to exercise caution.
Reminding myself to stay aware, I make my way to the basement. I need to move with some haste. The clock’s ticking.
The basement turns out to have a labyrinth of tunnels. I knew this to
be the case because of the mission briefings, but there are a great
number of tunnels that simply do not show up on the map I was provided. I
know the building is large, but this is ridiculous. I try to think of
where the premium location for a bomb of this type would be. The
briefings said that it would probably be under the conference rooms, but
when I go there, all I see are some scuffs in the floor, implying the
device may have been here before, but was removed for some reason. A tip
I’m still mulling this over when the Janus activates – indicating a wasted loop.
The synchronization alarm sounds. I quickly glance down to check the
number, and sigh with relief when the display reads only fifteen. You
get one hundred and eighty three five minute loops before you and your
surroundings get so out of sync with the prime timeline that re-merging
I set about sweeping the maze of corridors and rooms in the basement
as fast as I dare allow myself to. I practically stumble across
Malarcher and the bomb in a secluded area of the basement, in a room
situated right beneath the first floor’s main banquet hall. I’ve caught
him by surprise, he looks up from the bomb to see me, and he reaches for
his weapon. Without hesitation, I put two bullets in his chest.
He slumps to the floor, and I go to investigate the bomb. As I make
my way past him, he mumbles something I can’t quite make out. I look at
He points at his chest twice, then at the bomb – a deadman switch?
That worry is confirmed seconds later when Malarcher’s heart stops. The bomb gives a loud screech and immediately detonates.
My first fifty one trips back have apparently been fruitless. There’s
something ominously difficult about this mission. It was supposed to be
a fairly standard “prevent the terrorist from blowing up the building
with the VIPs” scenario, but I would think that I would’ve lucked into a
solution at this point. It’s time to think outside the box. Cell phones
won’t work, since we’re currently cut off the prime timeline, and with
it the rest of the world, but the walkie talkies that Hewitt and I carry
will still function. I radio him and ask him to meet me in the
He has to know that I’ve started the Janus, even if he isn’t any more
aware of each passing loopback than I am. He certainly does seem to
take his time getting to the basement, though. By the time he does, two
and a half precious minutes have elapsed, and we’re left with a
worryingly small window to work with.
Having two people sweeping the basement is much faster, and much
safer and we get to Malarcher’s lair fairly quickly. He hasn’t seen us
yet, but something doesn’t seem right.
Hewitt’s shot is already fired by the time I’m able to voice my
concern. Malaracher drops to the floor, his head a gaping mess. I don’t
even get to finish my sentence before the blast annihilates us.
The synchro-alarm blares an ugly threatening tone and the little red
light indicates I’m nearing to synchronization breaking point. I check
the indicator – one hundred eighty.
I only get three more tries at this.
No one really knows what happens when re-merging is unable to occur.
The optimists insist that the timeline fractures and all of the events
play themselves out in a new timeline. Most theories figure that those
who can’t reconnect with the prime timeline get lost in some sort of
timeless void. All I know is that the few times it’s happened, the
unfortunate people who were unable to re-synch simply disappeared. My
uninformed opinions always sided with the latter.
The one time I got even close to the resynch threshold, I was tasked
with preventing a member of an eastern extremist group from
assassinating a group of middle eastern diplomats. There were more of
them then we had expected, and our contact had been found out and killed
before we could determine who the assassin was.
It turns out there were two of them. If Hewitt hadn’t been along and
helped me piece it together on try one seventy seven, I would’ve had to
abort the mission. Aborting was an option that time, this one’s been
given red status – I am to prevent this bombing, even if I have to pass
the threshold to do it.
On try number one eighty one, I don’t even find Malarcher. One down, two to go.
I don’t recall what I’ve done on any of the previous loops. Only the
device itself persists through the loop back, no actions or memories
make the trip, so each time I start out, it’s like I’m flying blind.
It’s frustrating, the knowledge that any action you take is one that
you’ve probably already taken – perhaps dozens of times – to no effect.
This time, I get lucky, catching Malarcher unaware. He never sees me
coming, so I’m able to take my time and execute a leg shot. I get to the
bomb, and it doesn’t seem as though he had a chance to activate the
countdown. I’m about to enter the code to cancel the next loopback, when
I feel the bullet penetrate my back.
A second terrorist?
I crumple to the floor. I can’t turn to see my assailant, but he steps into my sight soon enough, anyway.
“Why?” I weakly gurgle as he rips the Janus out of my jacket. He fiddles with the device for a couple of seconds.
“You changed the synclock…” he waves his gun in my face.
I did. He can’t cancel the return jump. He doesn’t have anything to
threaten me with in these last twenty seconds. He seems pissed off about
both of those facts.
I need to find a way to warn myself. Shit. I don’t even have access
to the Janus. Even if I did, there’s no way to send yourself a message
back in time. Maybe if I…
Everything has to work this time, or I have to be willing to condemn myself and everyone in the building to timeless oblivion.
I manage to find Malarcher in a room that doesn’t appear on the
provided blueprint. I’m about to make a kill shot, but caution stays my
hand, and I opt for a non-lethal shot. I detain the terrorist, and have a
look at the bomb. It doesn’t appear as though the countdown had been
Something’s not right. I don’t think I would have failed a hundred
and eighty two times if this situation could be taken at face value.
I hear footsteps coming down the hall. Already feeling jumpy, I raise
my weapon and sneak a quick peek at the Janus – one minute remaining. I
need to figure this situation out immediately.
Suddenly, Hewitt bursts into the room. He sees that I’ve got my gun
trained on him and gives me a questioning look. Then he sees Malarcher
restrained in the corner. He gives me an approving nod, and I return it.
Time to stop the countdown.
Hewitt catches a glimpse of the Janus device as I pull it from my
pocket – the blinking ’183′ prominently featuring. “Looks like we almost
got desynched. Lucky break, I’d say. Cancel the loopback and let’s
clean up” he says.
That catches my attention. I was the only agent notified of this
mission’s Red status. To minimize leaks, everyone else, including Agent
Hewitt, thought this to be a standard Blue status terrorist hunt. If
this were indeed a Blue, there would be nothing to cancel, only critical
orders would trigger a loopback past the threshold. Even a standard
ordinance bomb wouldn’t be enough to justify a red, so what reason would
he have had to think otherwise? A quick look at his face show a man who
just admitted to knowing more than he should know. With the clock
ticking, I think back.
Hewitt saved me in Paris, but the leaps in logic he made to determine
the locations of the assassins never made sense to me, even back then.
The mission itself was viewed as an unqualified success, but we later
learned that the biological materials that ended up being put to use in
this very bomb were stolen that evening, while the agency was out
tracking a conspicuously high number of high-risk cases – many of which
turned out to be false leads. How did Hewitt track Malarcher – or me,
for that matter – to this point? A point which, according to the
basement map provided by our contact doesn’t even exist.
I look at my watch – only fifteen seconds left.
Hewitt knows that he’s overstepped his ability to backtrack. “Cancel
the countdown and let’s talk this over,” he says “you know what allowing
this to reset will mean.”
I do. In ten seconds, an embassy full of dozens of diplomats and
dignitaries will blink out of existence, along with two terrorists and
one thoroughly defeated agent. It will be a disaster, the public will
call for the heads of my entire agency for allowing it – no, causing it –
“Still better than a biological weapon going off in downtown London.” I reply.
Hewitt gives an angry scowl and draws on me and fires.
Hopefully, the optimists are right. Hopefully, there’s time enough
still for me to fix this, no matter where or when that might be.
The last seconds tick off the clock. For better or worse, I guess we’ll find out what’s beyond this timeline soon enough.
Is the bad guy's name Malarcher or Malaracher? What lies beyond the threshold? How did I come up with the name 'Hewitt'? I'll answer two of those questions, but first the judges' comments.
K: This one has some grammatical missteps and the spelling of
Malaracher/Malarcher changes an annoying number of times, but this
concept was extremely engaging. I feared that we were going to be paid
off with “It’s a video game,” but in the end, I supposed that even if
that was going to be the case, the story had drawn me in enough that I
could’ve dealt with it. The characters don’t show much of themselves
here, but otherwise, this is tons of fun, and a nice ending to the
Creativity of Reason for Forgettings: 5
Overall Story Effectiveness: 4
DK: I love this one. I’ll start by saying the characters aren’t
outstanding here, either – I feel for this guy because of his situation
but other than a few hints here and there, he doesn’t feel especially
complex or anything on his own. The good news is that it doesn’t matter
for the way this story is set up – the concept is the star here.
There’s great care taken in this idea for the memory aspect that shows
in how its mechanics operate, and the buildup of tension is pitched
superbly to a payoff that feels surprising and yet inevitable at the
same time. And satisfying, above all else.
Creativity of Reason for Forgettings: 5
Overall Story Effectiveness: 5
First question: Malarcher is named for the old Negro League infielder Dave Malarcher who was, for one reason or another one of my favorite Negro League ballplayers growing up. I was going to run the whole document through a find and replace to weed out the various spelling mistakes I was fairly sure that I was making, but alas, it never happened. "Hewitt" came as I was trying to think of a good agent-y name. The copy of Maxim that randomly shows up at my house every month (you think that's a "oh, good one" excuse... it's not, I do not know who decided I need Maxim magazine, but I'm sure they could've done something more interesting with their money) has Jennifer Love Hewitt on the front cover. At that point, Hewitt seemed like a good name.
In the comments at the Casa, Beau mentioned that he was nearly constantly reminded of Source Code. That seems pretty accurate, I suppose. I certainly didn't mean for that to happen, but I could tell it bore a resemblance before too long, and actually made sure that I scrapped a couple of elements to avoid too close a comparison. The 'controlled time travel loop' just seemed an idea worth exploring. Source Code had those elements, but I feel that I took it in a more satisfying direction (though I did end up liking that movie more than I thought I was going to).
He also mentioned that the ending was a bit over explaining. This also had a reason. In the original draft, on try number 182 (one try before the threshold) the protagonist thinks he completes the mission and turns off the automatic loopback, only to have Hewitt gun him down and detonate the bomb.The betrayal reveal was going to happen the jump before. I figured this season had seen enough bleakness, so I let the ending be a little enigmatic, so that there's the hope that even if he hasn't saved himself, he still might redeem himself in whatever capacity he's allowed to.
Okay, so...... did I survive to the finale? Am I one of the final two?
Yes. Yes I am. Against all odds, my 27 just barely beat out Matt's 26 on this final challenge and I won immunity, choosing to eliminate him (sorry again, man) and advance to the final jury vote with Beau (who had a fairly surprising evening of his own, though in a far different way).
On Tuesday, I make my case for why I should win. I think there are plenty of good reasons, but I guess we'll see shortly whether or not the jury will feel the same way. Good times.