Tick Tock
by Alice Jenkins
For the one thousand two hundred twenty-sixth time, Nova stepped into the elevator outside the Calculations Building. The glass doors whisked shut and the box shot upward with stomach-twisting speed. Nova leaned against the outer wall, refusing to look down, and watched as the building’s windowless, white wall flew past him. When the box finally slid to a halt, Nova was on the two hundredth floor, far above the winding tracks and cars. For the one thousand two hundred twenty-sixth time, Nova stepped from the elevator and onto the tile floor. He strode down the sterile, white corridor, passing the blank, white faces of closed doors. Reaching the final door, which had been left ajar for him, he glided into the room. And for the one thousand two hundred twenty-sixth time, Nova sat down for his annual Meeting.
The man at the desk across from Nova leaned forward, a crooked smile playing with the edges of his lips.
“Welcome, Collector.”
Nova nodded for him to continue; he wasn’t interested in small talk.
“Let’s get started, then. I’ve been reviewing your charts, and this past year has been extremely profitable for you.”
“I know my record, Accountant. But what can you tell me about my future prospects?”
“Well, I just caught wind of some news that may be of interest to you. A band of traitors, who disappeared from the Capitol several Decades ago, was just discovered by the Patrol. I’m sure you remember the resistance movement back in the 3090’s? Well, then you know that after the Installation Project was completed, they up and left. They took their Watches and their Time with them, which, as many have pointed out, is blatant robbery of your property.”
Nova shook his head in disgust. “But they’ve been returned to the Capitol?”
The accountant leaned back. “They’ve been in the Penitentiary since their trial before the Judges. And Collector, the verdict is in: Forfeit.”
Nova’s eyes lit up. “How many of them are there? How much Time?”
“Granted, the movement was only several Decades ago, but some have aged considerably in that time. With no incomes, their Times were frozen. But they did procreate, which added fresh ones to the batch.”
Nova sucked in a horrified breath. “But, were there no Mothers among them? They procreated randomly?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But every one of them has been sentenced to Forfeit. So, when I worked out a rough estimate, I calculated that you’ll be receiving slightly over six hundred seventy Years.”
“Not bad,” Nova grinned. “And when can I retrieve my dues?”
“Well, I can prepare a chopper to take you to the Penitentiary now, if you’d like.”
“Marvelous! Thank you, Accountant.” Nova stood, straightening his suit, and prepared to leave.
But before he could go, the Accountant stopped him. “Collector, I sent a copy of the patent renewal forms to your apartment. The deadline is early this Week, so notify me if there’s any way I can help.”
Nova nodded absently and brushed him off, striding toward the door.
The Accountant shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “You’re a rich man, Collector! Let’s keep it that way.”
********
The chopper zoomed over the Capitol, and Nova gazed from its window. The aircraft wove between looming, white buildings. Their windowless faces washed a sense of dread over Nova. Glancing up, he thought it looked as if the buildings’ spiny towers were curling in on him. But he squeezed his eyes shut; it was only his mind. Peering down, he saw the maze of interwoven tracks; he saw the streetcars flitting around. But from his height, he could not see any people. It seemed as if the Capitol were functioning on its own, and it filled Nova with a sense of utter loneliness.
To comfort himself, Nova pulled his Watch from his pocket. Centuries ago, it had been new and golden and shiny, but the Years had robbed it of its luster. Now, the dull bronze surface was marred with scratches and stained with dirt. But the Watch was nonetheless Nova’s most prized possession. Tenderly, he flipped the cold metal lid open, revealing the Watch’s face. Beneath the clouded glass, bunches of hands ticked, creating a comforting whirring sound. The largest hand marked the passing Millenniums, moving with booming thuds. Next were the Century hand and the Decade hand, which clicked methodically. He also had Year and Month and Week hands, jumping more briskly. Then came the Hour and Minute and Second hands, skipping in circles around his Watch. He gazed at them, just as he did every morning and every night. He gazed at them, just to be sure that every single hand was still ticking.
The chopper landed with a thud, and the doors hissed open. Nova met the Guard and together, they entered the Penitentiary. To get to his office, Nova had to walk down a corridor lined with cells, a part of his day he did not particularly relish. Aside from the echoing of his footsteps, Nova could hear the ticking of hundreds of Watches. But the sounds emanating from the Penitentiary’s cells were simply dull clicks. Nova knew that no Millennium, Century, or Decade hands moved here. The Time here was limited.
When he was mere feet from his office, a hand, blackened with soot and years of hardship, shot from between the bars of a cell and latched onto Nova’s arm. Every muscle in Nova’s body tensed, but he refused to flinch.
“Come to take our Time, eh?” The voice was sharp and rough and belonged to one of the traitors.
“Sir, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Nova lied smoothly. “I’ve done everything in my power to save the lives of you and your… family. But the simple fact is that—”
“Liar!” the man screamed. His breathing quickened, sending hot, pungent air into Nova’s face. Nova took a step back, his temper flaring.
“It’s mine,” Nova hissed. “You stole it and you have no right to it, now.” He tried to yank his arm away. “It’s mine!” he repeated. For emphasis, he told himself.
But the man held Nova’s arm in his iron grasp. He waited until his raspy breathing had calmed, and when he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “You can take their Time. You can slither into your office and watch as their lives flow into your Watch. But you hear this?” He lifted his own Watch and held its cracked face in front of Nova. Only the Second hand moved, and its motions were sluggish, as if it, too, was ready to give in. “My Time’s almost up.”
Nova glared at the man with hatred smoldering in his eyes. This man had lived his life on stolen Time, and Nova could do nothing to retrieve those lost Years. He gazed into the man’s watery eyes as his breathing became shallower. Slowly, the man’s grip slackened and his knees gave out. Nova wanted desperately to turn and leave, but he stood transfixed. Because even as the Second hand made its final leap, a faint smile was etched in the man’s leathery lips.
********
Nova slammed the door to his apartment, shaken from the day’s events. He tried pulling his hair; he tried screaming. He threw himself to the floor and angrily ripped the Day’s mail to tiny shreds. But no matter what he did, the man’s eerie whispers still wrapped themselves around Nova’s mind, refusing to be shaken loose. Nova thought of the horror he felt when he learned of what the traitors had done. Mere seconds before Nova had absorbed their Time into his Watch, the rebels had simultaneously smashed their Watches to pieces, ending their own lives. Nova had walked the length of the corridor lined with the dead rebels’ cells, sobbing uncontrollably as he thought of the precious Time that had been lost. Wasted.
Now, Nova yanked his own Watch from his pocket. He glared at the hands, moving no more confidently than they had this morning. With bitter rage welling within him, Nova slammed the cover shut, ignoring the loud cracking sound. He leapt to his feet.
“You know what I need? I need some fresh air,” he said, to nobody at all. With that, he threw open the doors to his balcony. Leaning across empty space, he grabbed the grimy, rusted rungs of the emergency ladder and pulled himself up the side of his apartment building, eighty-seven floors above the winding streets. Up here, the noxious smoke of the Capitol was barely present. Up here, the whipping winds that threatened to tear Nova from the building erased any thoughts of traitors or Time. Up here, Nova could think.
Sitting on the edge of the rooftop, Nova gazed across the horizon. Beyond the Capitol’s walls, there was nothing. The flat, barren land extended infinitely in every direction. The emptiness of the world filled Nova with a sense of futility. What was it all for? Before doubts could further permeate his mind, Nova leaned back. He searched through his forgotten memories, too painful to think about. Bravely, he tried to remember how this had all begun… so, so long ago.
Back then, Nova’s life wasn’t measured in Millenniums or Centuries. It was measured in years, days, even moments. Back then, Nova had a heart that beat, instead of ticked. Back then, Nova had a family and friends; he had a vision and he had a dream.
Back then, the government was changing. Society had become deprecated; the people were obsessed with affluence, losing sight of their traditional values. Those in charge were desperately searching for a solution. Nova, who had been rising in the ranks of government, devised a way to solve society’s growing problems and make a name for himself. He brought his proposal to the Leaders, who welcomed it with enthusiasm. It was determined that, according to Nova’s plan, the government would completely eradicate money from society, replacing it with Time. Time would drive jobs and income and motivation. Time would mark wealth and poverty. Time would separate the dead from the immortal. Time would rule society.
The entire society underwent the Installation Project. In the heart of every human, the government installed the gears of a clock – a clock of life. And attached to a chain was his Watch, filled with bunches of ticking hands, counting down the Years, Months, Days, Hours, Seconds of life. Workers were paid in Minutes, Weeks, and Months. Gamblers lost Years, or even Decades, with one bad hand. And when the hands of the Watch ceased to move, the heart ceased to tick.
Overnight, Nova became the patented owner of Time. Those who lost their privileges to live Forfeited their Time to Nova. He watched as every hand in his Watch spun, Year after Year. Each night, Nova fell asleep to the whirring of his Watch. Nova became immortal.
But Nova’s world crashed down on him the day the phone rang. They said his father had never stopped gambling, even when the stakes were not dollars, but Years. They said that his father lost more than everything one night, with gin in his throat and stars in his eyes. They said his mother and father had both been forced to Forfeit to pay their remaining debts to the government. And they said Nova would receive forty-six Years from the transaction.
Nova remembered staring at his Watch in horror as the hands whirred and the Year hand slowly spun backward forty-six times. He wanted to smash his Watch, to forget about Centuries and Years and Days and Seconds. But with no family, that was all he had. Only Time remained.
********
Now, one thousand two hundred twenty-six Years later, a loud knock jolted Nova from his fitful sleep. Walking across the icy, metal floor, Nova cracked open the door to find a suited man standing before his apartment door.
“Collector.” The man dipped his head. “You’ve been summoned before the Judges.”
Nova’s stomach flipped, and his eyes darted around uneasily. “Do you… know… why?” But the man simply shook his head tersely and motioned toward the chopper hovering outside the building. Dressing quickly, Nova followed the man at a brisk pace, not daring to look back.
Nova slid into the chair before the row of Judges. The seat was too soft, and he fell backward into it, feeling like a child again. He gazed up at the Judges and the Judges gazed down at him. There was a stale silence.
One Judge cleared his rusty throat. “Collector, you’ve been summoned before us today due to an unexpected change in your… fortune.”
Another piped up, his wheezy voice whistling. “Precisely one Millennium, two Centuries, twenty-six Years, two Minutes, and fifty-four Seconds ago, you became the patented owner of Time. You have lived longer than any human has, and you have countless more Centuries stored in that Watch of yours.”
The first Judge interrupted him, “But as of three Minutes ago, that patent is officially expired. We’ve received no patent renewal paperwork, so the Counsel has determined that your remaining Time will be Forfeited to the government, for the greater good of society.”
Nova struggled to push himself to his feet, not comprehending the weight of their words. “No,” he whispered feebly. “But… but it’s mine. It was a mistake; I’ll fix it.” The stony faces of the ancient judges stared down at him.
With a sickening feeling, Nova slowly dragged his Watch from his pocket. Weighing it in his palm, he realized that, for the first time in his one thousand two hundred fifty-seven Years, he was afraid to open it. With his heart ticking thunderously, Nova flipped open the Watch’s lid and gasped in horror.
A wide crack had slashed through the glass of his Watch, renting its face in two. But even worse was what lay beneath. Through the cracked glass, Nova could see each hand spinning out its Time with blinding speed.
With a horrible thud, the Millennium hand jerked to a stop. “No!” Nova screamed.
Next, the Century hand froze. Nova looked frantically up at the row of Judges. “Make it stop!” he cried, but they simply gazed at him indifferently.
The Decade hand and the Year hand. Dead. Nova fell to his knees, shaking the Watch and sobbing.
With a click, the Month hand halted to a stop, then the Week hand. Nova thought of his forgotten family, of the countless lives he had stolen. He tried to remember back to when he could feel and wonder and love. He searched through the Time for something to carry with him, but it was all empty. Hollow. Then the Days were gone, and Nova was gasping for air as the Hour and Minute hands ceased to move.
His ragged breath and the gentle ticking of the last hand were all Nova could hear. He held the Watch to his face as the last Seconds drained from his life. With sluggish movements, the hand made its final leaps.
Tick.
Tock.
