Ruby was annoyed. She was biking home from work and heard a repetitive flapping sound, a slight ticking. Probably a loose strap on her helmet, she thought, and peddled on. Two blocks from her house, the ticking stopped and she quickly forgot about it.

 

The next morning, Ruby awoke suddenly to a buzzing sound behind her ear. She jumped out of bed and swatted at her head. “How did a bee get in here?” she yelled at her partner frantically.

 

“What bee?” her partner called out, alarmed. But they found no bees in the room and the buzz subsided as quickly as it had started.

 

“I know I heard something,” Ruby puzzled.

 

That afternoon, Ruby’s partner was grilling on the porch. Ruby sat comfortably on a bench, reading a book. The sun was warm on her shoulders and the breeze brought the scent of the lavender she had planted the year before.

 

“Ruby…”

 

“Yeah?” Ruby replied.

 

“What?” her partner asked.

 

“What? You said my name.”

 

“No I didn’t.”

 

“I just heard my name.”

 

“Wasn’t me, Rubes. Must have been the wind.” Her partner spun her finger around her ear and laughed, returning to the grill.

 

“...hear…me…”

 

“Hello?” Ruby called out, looking around. There was no one. She held her head in her hands, got up, and went for a walk.

 

As she walked, she heard a tapping sound, much like the bike helmet noise. She groaned in frustration. The buzzing began again behind her right ear. It felt like a vibration that turned into static, like an untuned radio.

 

“Can you…” a woman’s voice cut through the static for only a second. Ruby gasped. She found a bench and sat down, closing her eyes. She listened.

“...repeat…can…hear…” the voice continued.

 

“I hear you,” Ruby said in a low voice. “Who are you?” The static continued. She followed the waves of sound closely, trying to decipher the voice.

 

“Hello? Can you hear me?” the voice said clearly.

 

“Yes. I hear you,” Ruby responded, a bit louder.

 

“Is this Ruby?” the voice continued from behind her right ear. The static dissipated considerably.

 

Ruby looked behind her again to be sure no one was there. “How do you know my name?”

 

“Please confirm you are Ruby,” the voice repeated.

 

“Yes. I’m Ruby.” The static stopped. The only sound was from a passing car. “Are you still there?”

 

“Hello, Ruby,” the voice continued in complete clarity. “Please do not be alarmed. I have been trying to contact you for quite some time. I am extremely pleased to be speaking with you.” The woman’s voice cracked as if she were older and her accent was unrecognizable.

 

Ruby didn’t know what to say or how this was happening. Perhaps it was a joke. Or maybe someone had implanted a speaker in her ear. She suddenly felt frightened.

 

“Are you there, Rubes?” asked the woman.

 

“Yes. Who are you? What do you want? How do you know my name?”

 

“I will answer everything in time. Right now I only have a few minutes before the sun’s radiation scrambles our connection. I will reach out to you again tomorrow. Please don’t be frightened. Remember, the greatest friend of the soul is the unknown.”

 

“What did you say?” Ruby called out, standing up. “Hello?” Silence. She felt lightheaded and sat down quickly. “O’Donohue,” she said to herself. “My favorite poet. What is this?”

 

Ruby told her partner everything over dinner and received the typical responses. Stress at work, not drinking enough water, her period. Ruby had a fitful night of sleep and woke up groggy.

 

At 9:42 a.m. she heard a buzz, static, and then the voice. “Ruby, are you there?”

 

Ruby held her cell phone up to her ear, faking a call. “Yes, I’m here.” She walked out of her office and into the parking lot.

 

“Ruby, we’re running out of time. Listen carefully. I need you to do something important. First, take a…”

 

“Hold it!” Ruby interrupted. “Who are you?”

 

After a long silence the woman responded, “I’m a friend. A friend that needs your help.”

 

“That’s not good enough. Why would I do something for someone I don’t know? I don’t even know how you can talk to me.”

 

“Okay,” the woman sighed, “let’s do this. I’m speaking to you from 42 years into the future through a time-communication conduit. I’ve analyzed and isolated your neuroprint which allows me to localize you. Communication was only possible once your neuromodulators were stimulated with the appropriate frequency. You must have heard repetitive sounds before hearing my voice.”

 

“I did,” Ruby managed to say.

 

“And, Ruby, this may be a lot to comprehend. My name is also Ruby. I’m you.”

 

Ruby did her best to balance incredulity with curiosity and, in the end, she believed she was speaking with herself. The future Ruby shared the miserable news that her partner will die of an aggressive and painful disease. This is the reason for contacting Ruby, to make a concoction using currently available ingredients to prevent the disease.

 

Ruby, knowing nothing of chemistry and being a horrible cook, was terrified of the task, but took notes diligently. She took the rest of the day off work to purchase the ingredients and perform the alchemy. When her partner returned home, Ruby welcomed her with a spiked cocktail and a nervous smile.

 

Ruby’s partner was dead the next morning. The autopsy showed poisoning as the reason for death and Ruby was incarcerated for manslaughter. She was retained in a mental institution due to the claims that a voice had instructed her to commit the crime. She died three years later from self-inflicted wounds.

 

Forty-two years after Ruby’s death, a neurocommunicator for the National Liberation Front reviewed her morning call list. She noted that Ruby’s partner’s name was erased from her list and smiled. Another rebel expunged! She pulled the case file for the next name on her list and started her day.