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  Matheson thought back to the various comments Thomas had made and realized the man was barely withholding his contempt and anger; he had asked Matheson to make changes in the past, and Matheson had refused. Was it that disastrous to alter the past? Matheson had no idea; maybe it wasn't, at all.

  He also thought back to his conversation with Johnson, and why he kept feeling like he and Johnson had spoken before; it was the same feeling he'd had about Thomas, that the man should have been paralyzed but wasn't.

  It was possible some change had been made to the past to prevent the two from meeting; yet even if that had been the case, it hadn't worked.

  What did it mean? Did it mean that the past couldn't be altered, in the long run?

  Did it mean that he and Thomas were somehow destined to be in that accident?

  It all hurt his head; Matheson decided to grab a soda and not think about it.

  * * *

  Thomas and Matheson flew their shift patrolling the no-fly zone with no incident. Matheson was being extra vigilant in scanning the area for any kind of enemy fire.

  When they flew they didn't talk about the whole portal jumping business as they were not only monitored, but their cockpit discussions were recorded.

  When their shift ended and they returned to the air base, Matheson thought Thomas might want to hit the officer's club, but Thomas didn't say much of anything, other than he was going to get some sleep.

  Matheson was too riled up to sleep, and he found a secluded area on the base to practice portal jumping. He was getting better at it; it was easier to create the portal, and he was getting to the point where he had pinpoint accuracy in where it opened up to.

  With this accomplished, he decided to head to the officer's club to grab a bite to eat – they served up typical bar food fare, and he was in the mood for a burger.

  Once there, he ordered his food and sat down. The place was packed, as usual, and over the songs blaring on the jukebox he could make out the shouted conversations of the patrons.

  Off in a corner Matheson noticed that Thomas was sitting down; his back was to Matheson and apparently hadn't seen him come in. Seated with Thomas were two other men, members of the portal jumping club Thomas had formed, presumably.

  Matheson pondered whether or not to join them, and thought perhaps he shouldn't. He'd keep his seat at the bar, and if Thomas happened to come by and notice him sitting there, he could invite Matheson to join him.

  That didn't happen, and as Matheson ate his burger he wondered what they were talking about. He began to wonder if it was possible to listen in on the discussion, without being detected.

  He began to think that it could be done. It seemed possible to Matheson that he could create a kind of portal that didn't open up anywhere, but one that was a kind of...camouflage. Something he could slip into, but remain in the area.

  He wasn't sure how he would be able to do it, but was becoming convinced that he could.

  He also thought it might be important to know what exactly Thomas and those men were talking about.

  Could he do this, undetected? Matheson wondered. Creating a hole into the fabric of time and space was something that could be noticed.

  Maybe, he thought, it could be done in such a way as to minimize the appearance of the portal itself. He knew that the portal itself resembled a pool of shimmering light, and that was very noticeable.

  As he thought about it, the question as to how this could be done was being answered, at least in his mind. Part of him wondered if it was even a good idea to do this, but he quickly dismissed this thought.

  He also wondered if he could not only create the kind of portal he was thinking about, but could he slip a few minutes into the past to be able to listen in on the entire conversation Thomas was having? He thought this was possible as well.

  Matheson left some bills on the bar and got up. Convinced he hadn't been noticed by Thomas, he left the bar and headed towards the back of the building.

  Once there, he tried to visualize the kind of portal he was thinking of, which in essence would be a kind of camouflage.

  As he thought this, a curious sensation covered his body; it felt as if every inch of skin was suddenly tingling, and the quality of the light suddenly shifted. He was now observing everything as if through the kind of heat shimmer seen on the pavement of a particularly hot day.

  He also observed that his shadow was gone. But was he hidden from view? He didn't know. He took a cautious step forward; the world retained that shimmering quality.

  He approached the officer's club and put his hand against the wall; instead of touching the surface it passed through it.

  Matheson pulled his hand back. He put it towards the wall again, and once more it passed through the metal frame.

  Curious, he continued to step forward, and marveled as his entire body passed through the structure.

  Within a few moments he was back inside the club, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed his miraculous entrance; apparently, no one had.

  He quickly approached the bar to look at the large mirror that was mounted on the wall. He could see the other patrons seated at the bar, but he couldn't see himself reflected in the mirror; he thought he noticed the shimmering of the light, but that was all.

  Thomas and his companions were still seated at their table, and Matheson headed towards it (while passing directly through the people he passed).

  Matheson only wanted to get as close as possible to still hear the conversation; if the men were discussing anything but the business of portal jumping, Matheson would leave.

  There had been a lull in the conversation, apparently, as no one was speaking. One of the men took a drink of his beer and shook his head.

  “He met with Johnson,” Thomas said presently. “I thought you had taken care of that.”

  “I did,” the head shaker said. “I went back and changed everything so that he wouldn't even be assigned here.”

  “Yet he came and they spoke,” Thomas said. He glanced at the second man at the table. “Right? Johnson still knows all about us, doesn't he?”

  The other man nodded. “He does. I listened to their entire conversation. He asked Matheson to find out what he could about the operation, and Matheson agreed.”

  Matheson wondered how it was this man had observed him and was able to listen in on the conversation, and then came to the realization that the man probably did exactly what Matheson was doing now. Matheson also wondered why they were talking about all of this in public, although it was the kind of conversation that would sound insane to eavesdrop on.

  “You're just going to have to go back and change it again,” Thomas snapped. “How hard is that? Just do it!”

  “Boss, it may not be that easy,” the man replied. “Maybe things can't be changed; maybe what happens is even if you try to change something, it'll just naturally happen again.”

  “Now you're sounding like him,” Thomas said. “Not up for the job?”

  “I can do it,” the man said. “I'm just telling you that no matter how many times I change it, it might not end up making a difference.”

  “It sounds like you're talking about fate,” Thomas said. “Is that what's going on? Are you saying Matheson and Johnson are somehow destined to meet, and you can't alter that?”

  “I'm saying I don't know the rules to this particular game!”

  “Maybe I just need to get someone else who doesn't care about what the 'rules' may or may not be.”

  “There isn't anyone else, I know the other guy you have can only go back 24 hours and...”

  “Hold on,” the second man said. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” Thomas said.

  He pointed towards Matheson. “There. For just a second the light looked funny.”

  “Looked funny?” Thomas said sarcastically. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “When I do my thing, it does something to the light; I've seen it in a mirror. That's what I'm seeing. I th
ink someone is watching us.”

  Matheson took that as he cue to leave, and he quickly left the bar by dashing directly through the wall.

  In doing so, his mind was racing, and once he passed through to the outdoors, a portal suddenly opened, and Matheson could see it would open up at the other side of the base. At that same moment he phased back into reality and stepped through the portal.

  He emerged near the post exchange; relieved, he found a bench and sat down. He may have been noticed at the officer's club, but there hadn't been enough time for someone to try and follow him.

  He was also amazed by the fact that he had been able to open a portal without really even thinking about it.

  Thomas had lied about at least one thing: the fact that he had a time traveler who could go further back than 24 hours; this was probably the same guy who had made whatever change to the past that had resulted in the plane crash over the desert from never happening.

  This same man had also attempted to change the circumstances which would lead to Matheson and Johnson meeting up; Matheson wondered what, exactly, he had changed. Yet the change in the past, for whatever reason, hadn't mattered. Would he try to change it again? Matheson thought Thomas would demand that.

  Despite the change that was made to the past, Matheson seemed to have retained some kind of memory of the event, as evidenced by the feeling of deja vu he had experienced in speaking with Johnson.

  He hoped he would know if it ever happened again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Another day on patrol, and Matheson retained his fear that they were going to be shot down. He thought about that a lot, and whether or not the past could truly be changed.

  Strange thing for a pilot to wonder, he thought, scanning the horizon.

  “How's it look?” Thomas said.

  “Clear so far, boss,” Matheson replied. They had another 40 minutes scheduled before they'd return to the air base.

  “That's good, better a quiet run than a...”

  “Hold up!” Matheson suddenly yelled. “Incoming fire! Missiles approaching!” the incoming ordinance alarms were bleeping.

  “Shit!” Thomas said. “Taking evasive action.”

  He banked the jet, but the missiles had a lock on the plane.

  “Don't know if I can outrun them!” Thomas said. “Hang on!”

  Caught up in maneuvering the jet, Thomas didn't notice a sudden odd tingling sensation cover his skin.

  The missiles approached and then passed through the jet; without a target to lock onto, the missiles found each other and exploded.

  “What the hell?” Thomas exclaimed. “How did they not hit us?”

  “We're not here at the moment,” Matheson said; he was perspiring heavily and his heart was pounding. “I sort of pulled us out of reality.”

  “You did what?” Thomas cried. “You did this, Charles? To this entire aircraft?”

  “I did. I can keep us here for a few more minutes. We can take them out, find where they're launching those missiles from and take them out.”

  “Roger that,” Thomas said. “I'll bring us down closer.”

  They descended, and Matheson had to use every ounce of his concentration to keep them in the portal he had created.

  It wasn't long before Matheson had visual range: a convoy of flat-bed trucks carrying mobile missile launchers.

  “I see them,” Thomas said. “I have a lock. I'm taking them out.”

  Thomas fired the jet's Maverick missiles; Matheson had returned them to normal reality seconds before this, and some on the ground noticed a fighter jet appearing out of nothing seconds before the convoy was blasted into oblivion.

  “Target destroyed,” Thomas said. “Are we...back to normal, Charles?”

  “For now,” Matheson said.

  “Roger that, I'm taking us back to base.” Thomas ascended to their normal cruising altitude and proceeded back to the air base without incident.

  * * *

  When they got back it was early evening, and Thomas suggested they head to the officer's club for a bite to eat; Matheson agreed.

  Once there, they sat at their usual table, and Thomas poured two pints.

  “Cheers,” Thomas said, raising his glass; Matheson followed. “Impressive work, leftenant.”

  “Thank you. It was purely reflex. I think we would have been dead if I hadn't been able to...well, hide us, like I did.”

  “How come you didn't do that when we...” Thomas began, and then trailed off.

  “When we what?”

  “Never mind, it's not important,” Thomas said. “What was it you did, exactly?”

  “I'm not entirely sure I understand it myself,” Matheson replied, and shrugged. “It's like I'm pulling myself up onto a different level of reality. You can still see and hear everything that is going on, but not be affected by it.”

  “Have you ever done it before?”

  Matheson paused. “No,” he lied. “I mean, I've thought about it, but I'd never tried it.”

  “Never tried it,” Thomas repeated. “Good thing it worked, huh?”

  “Yeah, it was,” Matheson agreed. “I really had no doubt it would work. It's an instinct.”

  “And you could apply this...what would you call it? A kind of camouflage? You could apply it to the entire aircraft? That's amazing.”

  “Well, I probably could do it to this entire building,” Matheson said, indicating the officer's club. “It just takes a lot of concentration.”

  “Does it hurt when you do it?”

  Matheson laughed, and nodded. “It does! It's more like a stress headache. It's not bad. If it's just me I don't really notice it; doing it to the jet ended up hurting a bit more. It goes away quickly. Once I collapsed the portal it pretty much stopped.”

  “Are there any limits to what you can do?” Thomas asked.

  “I don't know,” Matheson said cautiously. “I'm not sure. I don't think there is.”

  “What about going to different worlds?” Thomas asked. “You read a sci-fi story and they always bring up 'parallel' worlds. It's not any crazier than being able to go back in time.”

  Matheson thought of the world he visited briefly with the OREGON license plates. “I suppose it's possible,” he said. “I'm not sure how I would get to one of these worlds.”

  “I really could use you on my team, Charles,” Thomas said. “No one else can do what you can do, not even close.”

  “Are you sure it's a good idea, Jeff?”

  “Of course it is! We could do a lot of good, and you know it.”

  “That's true,” Matheson replied. “But I couldn't get involved if there were...other uses for this ability. I'm not going to use this power to 'vanish' people or kill someone.”

  “Charles, that's not what my group is all about,” Thomas replied, and Matheson thought he could read the lie in his friend's face. “But if you join us I'd need your promise of...discretion. I don't want anyone knowing about us, at least not right now.”

  “Don't worry, Jeff, I wouldn't tell anyone,” Matheson replied. “Even if I did, who would believe me? People would think I was insane.”

  “You might be surprised. Some people might believe it. Especially if they were given proof to believe. It would be easy to convince someone then, wouldn't it?”

  “I suppose so,” Matheson said.

  “Just think of all the good we could accomplish,” Thomas said. “This has unlimited potential.”

  “Of course it does,” Matheson replied. “I'd be happy to join.”

  “Great!” Thomas said. “Get ready to accomplish some great things.”

  * * *

  Their next patrol of the no-fly zone didn't go as well.

  In fact they were almost immediately shot down, and Matheson wasn't able to catch up with the incoming fire.

  “Shit! It's bad!” Matheson cried. “Incoming in all directions!”

  “Hold on!” Thomas said. “Taking evasive action!”

  It didn't work; a
missile homed in and crashed into the starboard wing.

  “We're hit!” Thomas said. “We're going down! Prepare to eject!”

  “Wait,” Matheson said. “We don't need to.”

  “What are you talking about?” Thomas cried. “This plane is going down! And...”

  Suddenly, they were on the ground.

  Thomas glanced around. “Wait...how? Did you do this, Charles?”

  “I did.”

  “Where are we?” Thomas asked. He pulled the lever to open the cockpit; he unstrapped himself from his seat and stood.

  Matheson did the same. “We're safe,” he said. “I put us down in a safe location.”

  “I can see that,” Thomas said. “But how did you do it? What did you do? It's like you...teleported us, somehow.”

  “That's exactly what I did,” Matheson said.

  “I didn't know that was something you could do,” Thomas said. “I'm radioing in our location.” He did that, and then he and Matheson climbed out of the jet.

  “Shouldn't be too long,” Thomas said. “Do you know where we're at?” He pulled out his GPS unit and looked at the screen. “This thing doesn't seem to be working...”

  “I'm not sure, entirely,” Matheson said. “But I know we're safe.”

  “So now you can teleport,” Thomas said. “You know, when they come to get us they're going to wonder how I landed a plane missing an entire wing.”

  “I'll just say you're a great pilot,” Matheson replied. “I didn't know I could teleport, I just thought I could.”

  “You make your thoughts become reality, is that it?” Thomas said.

  “Exactly,” Matheson said. “That's how it seems to work.”

  “That's pretty amazing. I'm not too comfortable just sitting here, I'm sure the bad guys have a search party out looking for us.”

  “Probably,” Matheson said. He put his hand on his sidearm. “I'm going to go take care of that.”