A tall, older man with short hair—a US General, judging from the olive-green uniform, I think. I should have known the meaning of the flag decorations under his three stars, but nothing came.
A younger man dressed in army fatigues hurried behind with a flash camera in his hands. My interrogator stood at attention, as did I. The general dismissed the bald guy quickly before pointing at a seat andaskingif I'd like to sit.
"So, you're the brave young man who saved a fellow soldier." He eyed me up and down, doing mental calculations in his head. It reminded me of my sergeant sending me out into battle. Strange how I remembered the look but not Sarge's face.
"Look at you. All-American good looks and your friend. He's black. Excellent."
"Sir?"
"America needs a hero, son. Someone who can silence those protesters back home. Make them see what real patriotism looks like. We signed the peace agreement, but they're still doing sit-ins." He breathed out slowly. "We can't undo the mistakes here, but we can spin it so we're not caught with our pants down for the next conflict." He smiled. "Ever think of politics?"
"Not overly, sir."
"No worries. Most politicians don't think." He grinned at his joke. "We could use more men in the corridors who served and who we can put in front of a camera. Got a girl back home?"
"He's genuine," said my double as two pointed fingers aimed in different directions. "Play along, and he takes you under his wing like you're his son. All this mess about being an enemy soldier goes away with a snap." He stabbed a finger at the bald interrogator. "He won't like it, but what can he do?"
"Yes sir, I have a girl."
"Is she pretty?"
Fuzzy snapshots of a blonde doe-eyed girl came followed by scenes of a tornado and falling branches. "Yes, sir."
"Good. It helps when both are attractive."
"Sir!" said my interrogator. "He's written letters to a girl who doesn't exist."
The general turned to me, waiting.
"This is it," said my double. "Tell him you had a fight and writing to her helped you cope. You didn't want her to rip up the letters, so you sent them to a buddy in another town. He won't ask why the name's different because you're perfect for the future he's got planned."
Time in the interrogation room slowed, thanks to my double. He grew older, looking more distinguished with the added years. The aura of political power shot from him like an invisible light.Could I be a senator or something even greater? I lost so many years, and I could make up for it.
"I'm not saying Mister President, but it's possible." He smiled and positioned himself as if standing behind a podium, addressing Congress. "There's a future there." He pointed to the two men, frozen in time.
"You have a chance to make the right decision. The proper one."
I rose from my chair. The general didn't react. The interrogator didn't move. Time hung still, waiting for me to decide. "Do what you say, and I get everything? That it?"
"Simple enough."
I breathed in or maybe I didn't in this world. My memory loss wasn't total because hard ice-blue eyes behind thick, black glasses stayed in my mind. This older man—my father I think—made a similar offer. I'm sure of it. Images of a short, muscled man came, and even without seeing his face, I smiled.
"You want me to take this deal," I said.
"Sure, and part of you wants it too."
"You showed me one future with nothing but high points, and another with arguments and a boring life. Ismiledwhen I saw that guy. I can't tell you his name, where he's from, or anything we did together, but Ismiled.Why in the hell would I, if it's supposed to be so terrible?"
"Because you don't have all the facts," he said slowly.
"I have enough, except who are you?"
"Someone you created."
"If that's true, then I wish you'd go away."
I found myself back in the chair, with no memory of sitting and looking up at an army general expecting an answer.
