In truth, he was a mere mortal just like them, but comingfrom the future, with several decades of advanced technology available to him,it wasn’t difficult to make himself appear omnipotent.
He hadn’t been entirely honest about the nature of thealternate universes Kay had visited. Long a believer in the multiverse theory,he had proven without doubt that alternate worlds could exist as a result ofhis earlier time travel experiments. He now knew how to create copies of theexisting universe, but he certainly didn’t have the power to delete them, norwould he want to.
After years of further experiments, he had now discoveredhow to travel not only between universes, but to different points in timewithin them as well, hence his claim that he could be in any place at any time.
His work with Kay, Kent and the others was merely part ofthese experiments. His latest research was into the effects of transferringconsciousness from an individual in one universe into another. Advanceddevelopments in the field of measuring electrical activity in the brain alsogave him a degree of insight into their thoughts.
By telling them the universe was merely a temporary copy,his intention was to allow them to act freely, unconstrained by the usual rulesthat governed people’s behaviour. He wanted to see what people would do, givenfree rein.
Then he could study the effects their trips back in timehad, not only on their own lives, but also on the world as a whole. Howdifferent might their lives be, and what ripples would flow out from thechanges his subjects made?
Kay had been a fascinating subject. Unknown to her, all thedifferent versions of herself she had created in the other universes were aliveand well, with the exception of the one that McVie had killed. If she had knownthis, perhaps it would have been some consolation to her to know that in thatuniverse, Anna was alive and well.
Most of the other Kays were faring better. One effect ofreturning the original Kay’s consciousness to the first universe meant that hercopies had only vague memories of what they had done the previous day, and why.Even so, in most cases they adapted to their altered circumstances well.
The first Kay, who had gone to Finland, continued hertravels through Europe and never went back to Alan.
The version of Kay who had gone to the summer ball stayedwith Kent, went to university and got her degree, carving out a successfulpresenting career with the BBC, just as she had hoped. She and Kent weremarried with three children.
The Kay who had stolen Alan’s money on Valentine’s Day had alife very similar to the original Kay. She had kept the house and divorced himseveral months earlier than before.
For the Kay who had travelled to Christmas Day as a childand had been to see Saint Etienne in 1993, there were no changes, either to hertimeline or the world at large. She had more or less done on those days exactlywhat she had done first time around.
None of this was known to this version of Kay, sunningherself by the pool, and nor did it matter. She was happy and her future wassecure. She couldn’t ask for any more than that.
The end…for now. The next story in the collection isMy Tomorrow, Your Yesterday.
My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday
Epilogue: Death
January 2025
I awoke slowly, not knowing where I was, or even who I was.There was a dull, aching pain in my chest and I felt incredibly woozy. I didn’tknow it at the time, but this was from the large dosage of morphine coursingthrough the veins of my weak and failing body.
As I struggled to open my eyes, I heard a female voice.“He’s coming round,” it said.
My heavy eyelids opened and I saw the light blue overall ofa nurse leaning over me. Looking around me I could see at once that I was in ahospital room. The walls were pale and looked grubby, despite being scrubbeddown on a regular basis.
I could hear the regular beep of a machine next to me whichI realised was the sound of my heartbeat. In fact, there were several machinesall around me.
To my right was a small bedside table upon which there was aglass vase full of fresh, red roses. A clock with a black LCD display on alight background read 10.36pm.
I tried to move but it only caused me pain. As I did so, Ibecame aware that I had all sorts of wires and tubes sticking into me,restricting my movement.
There was tinsel draped across the window frame. Thecurtains were drawn with only a small gap between them: just enough for me tosee that it was night-time.
A cheap-looking, plastic Christmas tree stood in the farleft corner of the room, its small points of white light blinking on and off,almost in time with my heartbeat from the machine. There was a large gold starsitting slightly lopsided on top.
I felt a hand holding mine, and looked up to see the face ofa beautiful, young, blonde woman looking down at me. There was no disguisingthe sadness in her pretty blue eyes. “Happy New Year, Dad,” she said.
“It won’t be long now,” said the nurse, an older,Hispanic-looking woman with olive skin and her hair tied up in a bun. “I’llleave you two alone.”
I struggled to gather my thoughts. The blonde woman hadcalled me Dad, so she must be my daughter, but I couldn’t recall her name. Ididn’t even recognise her. I couldn’t remember anything about anything.
I knew that I was in a hospital, and I knew that the nursewas Spanish in origin. I knew it must be the festive season. So I knew whatthings were, but none of the detail.
It was like joining a movie halfway through where I couldsee what was happening but didn’t know what was happening or who any of thecharacters were. It was all very confusing.
Perhaps it was the painkilling drugs they had given me.Clearly I was very ill. Was this it, then? Was I destined to die without evenany comforting thoughts and memories from my life to ease my passage
