The Silent Guardian — Chapter 15, Part 1: 2024
This installment continues The Silent Guardian Series. Previous: Chapter 14, Part 2: The Broken Dalek.
When we step into 2024, the dry warmth engulfs me. My feet crunch on the cracked earth as the ruins of Merv surround us. Time has stripped the ancient structures down to skeletal remains of their former grandeur. The outer walls rise in jagged, defiant angles. Beyond these ghostly ruins lies the hum of cars rolling along a highway. Modern buildings gleam under the same sun that once bore witness to empires long gone.
Xia points past the ruins of this tourist attraction. “The visitor’s parking lot is that way.”
Clara pulls a key from her pocket and tosses it into my hand. “Hope you remember how to drive.” She grins, always a hint of sarcasm dancing on her lips.
The insinuation irks me. Of course, I know how to drive. I’m a time traveler, not someone plucked from the distant past.
The engine rumbles to life. Soon, we’re driving toward the city of Mary. My attention drifts as the landscape transforms. Old gives way to the new. Ancient ruins become gas stations, blinking traffic lights, and rows of boxy buildings. Cars zip by, their drivers lost in whatever worlds occupy their minds. A motorcycle growls past us, the rider’s music blasting loud enough for us to hear, even with the windows closed.
Clara is nearly bouncing in the passenger seat. Xia leans against the door in the back seat, one arm draped lazily over the seat.
People romanticize the past because they haven’t been there. The truth is, the past is hard. It’s simpler, I’ll admit that. Today’s modern conveniences make life far more comfortable.
I’m not talking about televisions or entertainment of any kind. I mean things like transportation. Take my journey from China to Merv, for example. It took me nearly three months to get this far, a journey fraught with danger, bandits, and never-ending thirst. If I made that journey in the modern era, driving would take three or four days. Even in a compact car, it would be a relatively plush trip.
The world outside this car is the mirage: plastic signs, smooth pavement, bustling markets. Returning to my present always feels unnatural, as though these things don’t belong. Except, I’m the one who doesn’t belong. I seep through the cracks between time.
As we cross a narrow bridge, Clara nudges me with her elbow. “Hey, Earth to Adam. Don’t miss the upcoming ramp.”
Snapping back to the present, I catch the sign that points to Mary and head that way.
Clara looks back to Xia with a playful grin before saying, “Since you’re not going to ask, I suppose I’ll tell you how Xia and I met.”
She jumps into the backseat and wraps herself around Xia. I can see in the review mirror that her features soften while reliving the memory. “It was 1786 in Vienna. We were both sneaking into the premiere of The Marriage of Figaro—one of Mozart’s early operas. I was posing as a noblewoman’s daughter, which was easier than you’d think with the right wig. And Xia? Well, we ended up sitting next to each other. Let’s just say she stood out. There weren’t many Chinese women wandering around 18th-century Austria,” Clara giggles.
“Neither of us spoke German, making it difficult to be in Vienna. What are the odds that two time travelers would land in the same place and sit next to each other? Funny how fate works, huh?” She smiles at Xia. “I knew a little Chinese—enough to embarrass myself—so I tried introducing myself. When that failed, I switched to English. I said, ‘My name is Clara.’ To my surprise, she replied, in perfect English, ‘Your Chinese is awful.’”
Clara leans back with a playful smirk. “After the opera, we decided to explore Vienna. A few guys threw racist slurs at Xia—we didn’t know what they were saying, but we understood the tone. Xia told me she wasn’t comfortable with these guys around. She asked if I was up for an adventure. Of course, I said yes. She took my hand, and we jumped to 2003. Not knowing she could time travel, I found it funny. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of my shock, though. Instead, I asked, ‘Why here?’ Then I touched her arm and pulled her to 2036. She couldn’t believe that I could travel, too. The rest, of course, is history.”
Clara pauses. It seems like her story is over until a renewed smile takes over. “We had so much fun together. I knew I had to marry her. Across all the years, one moment felt right—a moment where our relationship mattered. So we chose June 26, 2015, in New York. The day after the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage. There, we were a part of an important historical milestone.”
She glances out the window as the city of Mary draws closer. “We could have done it in some exotic place in a fairytale time, dressed like ancient queens from a forgotten empire. It felt right to make it ours—in a time where it meant something, where we could finally exist together without pretending.”
“She’s exaggerating,” Xia says with a smirk, leaning forward. “Clara has a way of turning us into heroes in some grand story. Half the time, we’re running from one disaster to the next.” Xia meets my line of sight in the mirror, her smile widening. “You know how she said we planned our wedding on June 26th, 2015? She forgot to mention that we almost missed it because she wanted to borrow a dressmaker from the 19th century.”
Continue with Chapter 15, Part 2: A Life Before. New installments publish daily at 5:00 AM.
