Cerebral System

In 2060, Dr. Amil Khan, who studied patients who suffered from coma-like episodes and exhibited short-term amnesia, discovered something everyone believed to be the stuff of fiction. He developed a device that allowed the user to enter this come-like state voluntarily. His achievement changed the course of the future drastically. Whether it was to the benefit or detriment of the world was still being debated thirty years later.

"Gavin, difficult time last night?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Perp had me after him like a dog on a leash."

"You don't have to tell me. I saw the whole thing," Eric responded good-naturedly. "He had you jumping fences, tripping over debris, and falling on your ass."

"Yea, yea, yea. It's all jokes until it's you falling on your ass," Gavin said with feigned petulance.

"Nah, I've been hired to watch your back and analyze retrieved possible paths. You, on the other hand, are here for shits and giggles."

Suddenly, the earpiece in Eric's ear chirped, notifying him of an incoming message. Eric held up a finger to Gavin, requesting a moment. Gavin watched Eric's face to see if he could get a hint at what the message entailed. Dispatch relayed an upcoming crime set to commence in the next hour.

Eric met Gavin's eyes and said, "Well, so much for that drink. Duty calls."

Gavin smirked as he followed Eric to the control room, where monitors lined every square inch of the walls. Each display highlighted every nook and cranny of their city, and what the surveillance cameras couldn't see, the drones that patrolled the streets did. Eric's and Gavin's record was spotless. A prep hasn't escaped the five years they were a team, and they didn't plan on breaking that streak anytime soon.

***

After securing their target in a holding cell, Gavin met with Eric again. The bar was calling his name. He desperately needed a stiff drink after the week he had, especially having to endure the rant of their target. On the way back to the precinct, he vehemently insisted on his innocence, spewing the same spiel everyone in his predicament made when apprehended. "I haven't done anything," or "You can't arrest me if there's no crime." But they all knew the consequences of their decision, and Gavin couldn't figure out why they felt they could get away with it.

As he and Eric drove to their favorite spot, he expressed doubts about their method of tackling crime.

"Come on, Gavin. We all know even before the creation of the Cerebral System, all criminals felt they could either cheat the system or get away with the crime. Now that we have the means to catch someone before the act, we don't have to worry.”

"Yeah, I get what you're saying, but wouldn't it be better to wait until they actually carry out their plans before making an arrest?"

"Why wait until someone loses their life or steals from someone before acting when we have the means to prevent it?"

"I guess I see your point."

"Look at it this way. Do you remember the reports on those mass school shootings that occurred?" He waited for confirmation before continuing. "If the law enforcement, heck anyone, could have stopped the shooter if they knew in advance and saved lives, don't you think they would have taken that option? Besides, crime is practically non-existent thanks to the Cerebral System."

Gavin turned speculative for the remainder of the drive. As they walked towards the bar, Gavin stopped Eric to let him know he appreciated the different perspective.

"No problem, man." As Eric clapped Gavin on the back, he said, "Tomorrow is a big day. I don't see us having a break. So, I want to get shitfaced, enjoy my night and probably get lucky."

"Oh, yea! The same guy who developed the Cerebral System has a big announcement. I wonder what it could be?"

"At this point, I couldn't care less. I'll worry about it later. The same goes for you, comprendé?"

"Yeah, I hear you."

***

Gavin stood on the outskirts of the massive crowd surrounding the stage. The fanfare these things generated was unreal. The new reporters pressed anxiously against the barricade, spectators at the rear, and street vendors hawking their wares made for a potent cocktail of annoyance. Now and then, he would make the rounds of his designated section; the wait for the grand announcement had all agents hyper-alert. Although the brains back at HQ would alert them in advance to any incoming disturbances, it would be negligent not to stay on their toes.

"Gavin, how're holding up?" Eric questioned through his earpiece.

"Hot," Gavin deadpanned.

Laughingly, Eric said, "You're worse than a toddler throwing a tantrum, I swear. The Doc will be out any minute. Nothing is showing up in our predictions; it should be smooth sailing from here on out."

"Nothing he says could top that news. The quicker he's finished, the quicker I can leave." Gavin listened as Eric chuckled as he signed off.

As Eric said, Dr. Khan walked on stage to bright flashes from the assembled reporters, wild clapping, and whistles. Dr. Khan called for silence and reiterated the same information everyone had learned in school. Gavin tuned out his speech and scanned the assembled gathering. He made an aborted movement to return his attention to the stage when he noticed a hooded figure weaving through the crowd, moving like a fish fighting against the tide.

Gavin raised a clammy hand to initiate contact with Eric. "Eric? Any reports?"

"None. What's going on?"

"I have an individual headed towards the stage."

"Hold." Gavin's anxiety spiked as the person steadily moved forward. They looked neither left nor right. Gavin silently urged Eric to hurry as he moved to stay parallel with the suspect. After what seemed like an eternity, Eric finally reported back.

"We see him. There’s nothing on any of the predictable paths." Then, "All units, we have an unknown variable, isolate and detain."

Gavin plowed people out of the way, and in his peripheral vision, he saw the other agents converging on his location. The person must have realized the anonymity the crowd afforded them was gone; they closed the last few feet to the stage in seconds. To his horror, Gavin watched; as if in slow motion, they raised their arm and fired two shoots. Khan went down, and pandemonium broke out.

Like a stampede of wildebeests, people ducked and scrambled to leave the area; others fell and unfortunately trampled. As for the news reporters, they ran toward the gunman instead of away as any sane person would do. And then, the wannabe heroes tackled the shooter and surprisingly restrained him quickly.

"Gavin, report!" Eric barked in Gavin's ear.

"We have him, sir. We're loading him into a containment unit and on our way."

"Good. We need to figure out what the hell is going on."

"Sir?"

"I'll bring you up to speed when you report in.".

They peered through the two-way mirror at the man cuffed to the metal table.

"This is our shooter?" Eric questioned skeptically.

"Yup."

"You're sure you got the right guy? He looks like he hasn't touched grass in months."

Gavin shrugged in response. "Are you sure the brainies didn't predict this would happen?"

"Why do you call them that? Anyway, no. Nothing came up on the future timelines. It's like he appeared out of thin air. No results came up from his fingerprints either. He's a ghost."

"Only one way to find out. The old fashion way." Gavin exited the viewing room and composed his face into an expressionless mask. The man watched his progress as Gavin entered the room and parked in the other chair. If Gavin thought his face gave nothing away, he had nothing on this guy. Gavin reclined in his chair and clasped his fingers in front of him.

"I'm Agent Gavin Knox, Mr.—" Gavin waited for the man to fill in the blank. He waited so long that he didn't think he would get an answer. Just as he cleared his throat to continue, a sound entered the space between them. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Barely louder than the first time, the man said, "Brandon."

"Ok, Brandon. You wanna walk me through the incident?"

"I did humanity a favor." Already Gavin thought he was dealing with a nut job.

"How's that?"

"Khan was preparing to introduce his latest invention, and I couldn't let that happen."

"And how do you know what that invention is?"

Brandon refused to answer that question. Gavin couldn't believe he got that much out of him. Usually, he had people declare their innocence or try to fabricate a story they thought would get them out of trouble. But not this guy. He all but confessed to being guilty.

"Do you want some water or anything to drink?"

"If you want my DNA, you only have to ask."

Again, he shocked Gavin with his willingness to cooperate. "I'll be back with a swab."

Gavin rose to leave the room. He opened the door and swore he heard Brandon whisper; it wouldn't matter anyway.

The DNA results went the way of his fingerprints. Gavin and Eric felt the universe was playing a joke on them. Their boss practically breathed down their necks to get this case closed neatly. Khan was god-like to the masses and the inventor of the Cerebral System. A lot was riding on their asses to see this wrapped up nicely. And they didn’t get any more out of Brandon. He was like a steel trap. Two weeks in, they get a call from the lab. They got a hit on the DNA. It wasn't their guy but a close relative.

Gavin pulled up to a quaint home. He double-checked that he had the correct address and then rang the doorbell. Gavin heard deadbolt after deadbolt flick along the doorjamb then a heavily pregnant woman in her mid-twenties eased the door open. But a chain lock remained firmly between her and Gavin.

"Good evening. Ms. Donovan?"

"Yes?"

"I'm from the Cerebral Agency. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"What's this about?"

"You heard about the shooting a few weeks ago? Dr. Amil Khan?"

Instantly, her face twisted into something ugly and just as quickly dissolved into a neutral expression. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, you see, ma'am, we have the culprit in custody. From our investigation, uh, he's a close relative of yours, very close."

"Nope. You have the wrong person. Goodbye."

"Wait, please!" She eased the door a fraction of the way open than it was before. "We need to know if you know this man." Gavin held up a mugshot for her to see. Gavin told her the man's name as she scrutinized his picture.

"Sorry, I don't know this man. You said his name is Brandon?" Gavin nodded. "Weird. That's the name I'll be naming my son."

"When are you due?"

"In two weeks."

"Congratulations."

A sad smile crossed her face as she said, "He wasn't conceived under favorable circumstances. I chose to keep him regardless. It wasn't his fault."

Gavin took his leave shortly after. The more they looked into Brandon, the more complicated his story. Gavin needed to talk to Brandon again. Considering this was a high-profile case, he couldn't arrange a meeting for almost two weeks. They wouldn't take any chances that another freak appearance might occur.

This time Brandon kept his eyes trained on the tabletop. "Brandon Donovan."

Brandon's head whipped up so fast Gavin feared he'd given himself whiplash. "Where'd you get that name?"

"I paid a visit to," Gavin made a show of flipping through his tablet, "to a Ms. Cynthia Donovan." Gavin let the silence stretch until it felt ready to snap like a rubber band. Brandon did not fill the void with nonsensical noises as people tend to do. "Can you tell me who she is to you?"

"Do you have any idea who Amil really was?"

"Why don't you tell me."

Brandon seemed to gather himself before spilling his secret. Dr. Amil Khan paraded around like a peacock flaunting his feathers. That kind of exterior covered the gross and disgusting man beneath. His son was the same. He acted as if he were God's gift to women and didn't take no for an answer. His father paid lawyers and judges off whenever a woman came forward about his extracurricular activities. The highest form of cloaking a parent can do. Amil thought his son would take over once he retired. He realized that ship would never set sail and made arrangements for another to spearhead his company.

His son found out and went on a rampage. Due to cases thrown out in the past, the women learned not to report his crimes. In response, he had his son admitted to a psychiatric hospital. No one ever saw him again. Amil buried himself in his latest project, disappearing for weeks only to reemerge long enough to smell the fresh air. It took him a long time, but he finally created what he envisioned. Since finding a way to predict the future using patients with pre-existing brain conditions, he accomplished the reverse, time travel.

"That's what he planned to announce."

"How do you fit in?"

"What day is it?"

Gavin reeled from the sudden shift in the conversation. He spared a glance at the mirror before answering. "It's Wednesday," Brandon looked at him expectantly, "the 15th."

"And the time?"

"What's going on?"

"The time, please."

A chirp sounded in Gavin's ear. "What the hell is going on?" There was a pause before Eric said, "Gavin, watch him. I'll have the teams do a security sweep."

Gavin gave no indication anything was amiss. "3:15."

"Good, we have about fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes? Why fifteen?" Gavin didn't believe for one second; Brandon would needle his way out of this.

"I'll be leaving, detective."

"What? Like walking out the door. That's not happening."

A Cheshire Cat grin slowly spread across Brandon's face. "Nothing as mundane as that. In the meantime, I'll tell you a little more. After Amil constructed his time machine and announced its creation, the wealthy became richer the poor became a non-factor. Even so, that auspicious day made history just as it is the same for the Cerebral System."

Troubled, Gavin said, "I could understand that reasoning. But this seems more personal for you."

"It is. Amil is gone, and another bonus, we won't have to worry about that fateful future."

"How so? The machine is still here."

"Yes, but only one other person knows its location." Brandon's laugh reverberated off the surrounding walls. Gavin moved to shake the man, but his hand passed through his fading form. Gavin recoiled in shock, toppling his chair in the process. He watched as Brandon gradually dwindled. On the cusp of winking out, he said, "It was nice meeting you, Agent Knox."