Chapter Text
His eyes glazing over hauntingly, Tripp gazed at the letter in his hand. He knew his brother had wanted to poison Jesse against him, but what his great nephew had written in his quickly scrawled writing was shocking.
As he stared out the translucent panes of the window, which were dotted with water droplets from the rain, he pictured where Jesse was right at that moment. He might be somewhere that wasn’t raining, but instead huddled in a bunkhouse, writing more letters in the dark, while superior officers patrolled the barracks.
It seemed as though young Jesse was suspicious of his grandfather’s warning. Tripp could understand why. Jesse was young. Naive. And yet he was highly suggestable. He longed to please his father and grandfather. Anything they told him, he took to heart, and aimed to center it in his worldview. Tripp could recognize a lost soul that desperately wanted a direction to steer in, a cause to believe in.
Tripp had hoped to give that to the young lad. However, it seemed as though his brother, Harlan, had gotten there first. Tripp had wrongly assumed that Harlan would endeavor to keep his grandson ignorant of the secrets of the universe for as long as possible. While Tripp knew that his brother had already told Jesse all about the 1947 UFO crash, Tripp didn’t know the extent to which he had sowed the seeds of prejudice within his grandson.
But Harlan had thrown young Jesse into the deep end and expected him to surface clear-eyed and hell set against aliens and apparently Tripp as well.
From the letter Jesse had sent him, Harlan had exposed not only the family secret, but also Tripp’s secrets, in an attempt to arm him against potential dangers or remind him what legacy awaited him when he returned to Roswell and was folded into Project Shepherd. From the words in the letter, Harlan had also made the young boy uneasy just as he had left home for the first time.
But, Tripp’s concern for his great nephew’s well-being wasn’t the only thing that had his entire body on high alert. It was the questions Jesse had asked him, wondering if the accusations his grandfather had spewed were well-founded. Harlan had succeeded in scaring Jesse about alien invaders and sowing doubt about Tripp’s allegiances.
Tripp knew he couldn’t reply to Jesse. He couldn’t tell him about Nora. In writing.
Originally, he had wanted to tell him face to face, so the young boy could see the truth in the old man’s eyes. He needed Jesse to understand who these people were and why their family’s crusade wasn’t as black and white as it sounded.
Even though Tripp wouldn’t be writing back to his nephew, he was eternally grateful for this letter. Because it served as a warning.
This was a warning about his own brother’s intentions. He knew Harlan had always distrusted him. From his hesitation to attack the alien enemies and his reluctance to engage in the raid in 1948, to his walking away from Project Shepherd. His older brother had never let him forget his cowardice and disloyalty.
But now that they were old men, suddenly he felt more terrified than ever. Harlan was zeroing in on him. He must’ve been.
Never before had Harlan directly accused him of fraternizing with the enemy. He always had the feeling his brother suspected his true allegiance, but had never spoken it aloud. And now, with the prospect of passing on the knowledge to his son and grandson, Harlan had fired the first shot.
That had to mean only one thing. Harlan had proof.
The other night when he had suspected someone had broken into his basement flashed through his mind. His brother stalking him around town, interrupting his goodbye with Jesse, now seemed more sinister.
As quick as his old legs would allow him, he hurried down the hall and over to his front door and the coatrack to shrug on his rain jacket. He hated going out in this weather, but he had to check on his storage unit.
As he drove, he felt his foot shake over the gas pedal. He needed to go as fast as he could, but knew driving required caution in this storm. The rain splattered the windshield louder than the radio and Tripp swore he saw lightning in the distance. His eyesight wasn’t as good as it used to be, so he relied on his instinct to guide him where he needed to go.
During the arduous journey, he recalled the last time he had seen Jesse before he left. Tripp had nearly spilled the beans that day in the diner. But, something in the back of his mind told him the lad wasn’t yet ready. He hadn’t experienced enough of the world to question everything his pop and his grandad had always drilled into him. After he’d exited the diner, he had promised himself that next time he saw Jesse, he would tell him the truth. About everything.
He had always known he’d tell him someday. And Tripp was admittedly scared of that day. It would be a day that would either cement their close relationship or shatter it to pieces.
To calm himself down, he started humming a song that reminded him of his nephew and of simpler and better days, “As Time Goes By.”
When he finally arrived, the area seemed normal with no one around. The storage units were locked up behind a fence. Tripp fumbled for his keys. He paid extra to have 24/7 access. As well as anonymity. This was no ordinary storage unit. It held secrets no one could ever know under a false name.
Tripp longed to lay eyes on the treasure within. He needed to ensure its safety. It was as precious to him as the woman who created it.
In his eagerness to pass through the gate and unlock his unit, he nearly fumbled on the slippery ground. When the door finally slid open, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw all that he had collected over the years.
He hoped Nora would be proud of his efforts to collect the pieces of what she later revealed to be a remote to an enclosure. His eyes traveled from the glass construction to the maps and notes taped to the walls. Ensuring everything was secure, he lifted the lids to several crates confirming the contents were still there.
Metal crashed behind him.
Whirling around, his breath coming in gaps, Tripp discovered someone had come into his unit and slammed the door.
“Finally. Proof.”
Tripp’s eyes adjusted against the darkness, but he recognized the one person he most wanted to keep away from here.
His brother, Harlan, shuffled closer, his wrinkled eyes narrowed in focus. Tripp could see rage tensing his body underneath his jacket. Even at an old age, Harlan stood tall and strong, like an aged bull still primed for the rodeo.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Tripp muttered.
“Me?” Harlan snorted. “You are the one surrounded by weapons and materials of the enemy, like the traitor you are.”
Whether or not Harlan had found this place before, or he had just now discovered it made no difference. His brother had been suspicious for a while and clearly he had been narrowing in. Tripp didn’t allow any regret or disappointment to distract him from dealing with the combative man in front of him.
Holding his white head high, Tripp declared, “If you were half as good at your job as you think you are, then you would know that their people didn’t come here with weapons. That it was never their intent–”
“A confession!” Harlan yelped. “You’ve been hoarding specimens that should’ve been handed over to our government. I might not be able to prove the alien’s manipulation of your weak mind and your soft spot for invaders, but I at last have evidence of your treachery on their behalf.”
“You are blinded by ambition and your self-righteous delusions,” Tripp argued. “You’ve never understood sacrifice or the value of searching for truth.”
“The truth is you are a disgrace to the Manes name,” Harlan bellowed. “I’ve tolerated a lot from you over the years, but I won’t let you continue this deceit a second longer.”
“What–”
Before Tripp could finish, Harlan rushed toward him. Tripp let out a pained gasp as he found himself pushed up against one of the metal walls of the unit. His old bones ached. But he summoned the strength to oppose him.
“You’re such a disappointment, Eugene,” Harlan spat in the space between them.
Tripp gave his brother a shove just hard enough to push him off him. But it sent him spiraling into a crate and he toppled it over, not giving a care to its contents. Tripp cringed as he caught his breath.
Harlan roared in fury. He shoved another crate and more specimens clattered to the floor. Tripp saw illuminated pieces of glass shatter and dim.
Thinking quickly, Tripp grappled for the hardest and sturdiest thing in his reach, a piece of Nora’s remote. Wielding it like the weapon Harlan assumed it was, he smacked his brother across the face with it as the man began to charge at him.
Luckily, the force was enough to knock the old man down. Tripp held his arm gently, dizzy with the effort it took to attack. Stepping forward, Tripp peered down at his older brother, who by the looks of it, was temporarily unconscious.
Tripp snorted. Harlan liked to act like he was in the best shape of his life. He bragged that as a war hero, he had never let himself get weak and always stayed sharp. Well, Nora’s invention was stronger than the old coot was.
There was only a moment to spare to catch his breath and figure out what he needed to do next. The implications of his brother’s attack were world-shattering.
Harlan had discovered his secret. He had already turned Jesse against him. With the young man already away training in the Air Force, there wasn’t much hope of Tripp getting to him now. And Tripp’s chances of living longer and having more time were decreasing by the minute.
There was only one thing left to do. He had to use Nora’s invention.
Those few times he had been able to sneak into Caulfield to see her would turn out to be well worth the risk. Of course, he had yeared to see her, to lay eyes on her, even as she appeared to age and show the signs of repeated torture. She had still looked beautiful to him.
But, more than the personal warmth he felt just by sitting by her side, during his visits, Nora had managed to slip him the key that would save him now.
Reaching out for one of the sparkling pieces of alien glass, Tripp felt the smooth coolness graze his calloused fingers. In his grip, Nora’s beautifully crafted glass emitted a warmth, one he imagined connected directly to Nora herself.
He also grabbed several maps from the walls– the ones that hadn’t been ruined in Harlan’s attack– and stuffed them in his pockets. Tripp would need to leave the remains of Nora’s remote that he had salvaged, but he couldn’t worry about that now.
As he moved toward the exit, he sent out one last prayer that wherever Nora was, she would trust that he was making the right decision.
A groan echoed through the compound. His brother was stirring. There was no time to waste. He couldn’t let the founder of Project Shepherd follow him lest he find Nora’s secret in the desert.
His knees ached as he moved as quickly as he could, careful not to slip on the wet pavement that led to his car. Although he heard commotion behind him, Tripp didn’t stop to look. It might’ve been his brother clamoring after him, but with any luck, Tripp would escape more of his brother’s wrath.
One saving grace was that the rain from the storm was letting up a little. At last, he arrived at the spot in the desert that Nora had described. Following her directions, he unearthed the device.
When he laid his weary eyes on it, he was filled with awe. His Nora really was a wonder. This was enormous. Much larger than he’d imagined. The circular shape was big enough for several grown people to walk through at once. Now, Tripp understood how this could act as a sort of portal, through black holes, through time and space.
Taking the piece she had given him, he placed it on the edge of the podium. Instantly, lights swirled within the stone circle. Glancing around, Tripp looked back to where his car was. So far, he hadn’t been followed. He would have to trust that he could take this journey without being followed as well.
Gathering his courage, he grasped the piece of glass in his hand, holding onto a piece of the woman he loved, and stepped toward the flickering light within the circle.
The portal lights scared him a little. It was clear he was dealing with things not of this world. But he trusted Nora that this little piece of glass would override the portal’s original intentions and do what she said it would. He believed his Nora would protect him. Like he was protecting her by taking this leap.
Walking through the portal was nothing like he’d expected. Rather than sucking him in, Tripp felt like he was simply stepping into his living room from his kitchen. Except in this scenario his living room was cloaked in darkness.
On the other side of the swirling lights of Nora’s portal was a dense blackness that seemed to clutch at Tripp's soul. Not even in the combat trenches had he experienced this level of dark and eerie.
Suddenly, a wooshing sound came upon him. Like a wave, it cascaded over him, like it was folding him into a blanket of static noise.
Before Tripp had a chance to brace himself, the sound disappeared and he was thrust forward by an invisible force. On shaky legs, Tripp tried to right himself, but it felt like he was being pushed through a doorway.
When he managed to stumble into the light, Tripp found that he was inside a room, perhaps in a house. Unable to catch himself, he collapsed onto the floor and looked up to see that he was not alone in the dimly lit room around him.
As he took several heavy breaths, his vision came into focus. Details of the room slotted themselves into his brain: the bed, the furniture, the windows, the wooden doors. He realized with a jolt he had stumbled into someone’s bedroom.
Before him stood a young man, perhaps in his 20s or 30s, who looked to be about his own height, messy dark brown hair atop his head and wearing a button down shirt atop dark trousers.
Tripp briefly wondered how far into the future the portal had transferred him. But that was quickly overshadowed by a growing sense of panic. He had intended to use the portal to travel to Jesse. But it was clear that this startled man in front of him was not Jesse Manes.
He figured that Jesse might appear older, given the time lapsed since Tripp had left him at nineteen. And even though the man before him looked older than a teenager, he didn’t resemble Jesse. While his great nephew was blonde-haired with blue eyes, this young man had brown eyes and dark hair. Jesse was also much paler than this man.
So, after another steadying breath, attempting to regain his composure from the ground, Tripp looked up and asked, “Can you tell me where I might find Jesse Manes?”