Ryan Time

by Craig Robertson

  “But won't history record he had a brain-fart and claimed to have met future scientists and an alien fleeing a dark evil?”

  I rolled my head. “Possibly. Maybe. But more importantly, I don't care.” I pointed to the frozen savior of the Republic.

  “Time restart,” I called out, generally. “Jonny Boy wants to screw with you.”

  The room was silent and the lighting dim. At first Lincoln didn't move and I wondered if I'd lost the ability to restart time. That sent instant shivers up my spine. It would be, ah, inconvenient if I couldn't jump start time. But slowly, as if waking from a dream, he noticed us. He stood, but not quickly or in panic.

  “Pardon me, my friends. I must have missed your entry.” He tipped where his hat would be if it weren't on a side table near him. Then it hit me. He sounded like Mr. Rodgers, not, you know, like Abe Lincoln. I mean, he obviously sounded like Lincoln, since he was the guy. But I was caught off-guard.

  Abe got a seriously baffled look on his face. I do believe he was wondering how he could “miss” the entry of four people.

  He directed his attention to Tank. “Apologies to you, sir, also. Have we met?”

  “No, not really.”

  He sat back down. That's when three soldiers burst into the room, rifles pointed right at Tank or me.

  “Ah, Sergeant Hastings, that's alright. These people are my guests. Please leave us alone.”

  “But Mr. Lincoln, he claims to be General Sherman?”

  “The General Sherman? William Tecumseh Sherman?”

  “Er, well no. He just claimed to be a general named Sherman.”

  “Then perhaps he is. If you'll leave, I'll extract the truth from him, and get back to you.”

  “Ah,” he shouldered his rifle, “that's okay. I don't really need to know.”

  “Thank you, sergeant. That will be all.”

  They backed out of the room, closing the door as they left.

  “Now, where—”

  Yup, that's when Honest Abe had his Sapale moment.

  “She's from the Kingdom of Sarawak, er, North Borneo. The … a … English part,” I blurted out clumsily.

  That got him to scrunch up his face and angle his head.

  “I know North Borneo is held by the English, ah, I'm sorry, do I know you?”

  “No, sir, President Lincoln. We've never met before.”

  I reached around Sapale. “Jon. Jon Ryan, at your service.”

  We shook. Man, I wished I could risk a selfie with him.

  “This is my Sarawakian wife, Sapale.”

  He tipped where his hat could have been.

  “And this is Dr. Sachiko Jones, a world famous scientist.”

  He tipped his imaginary brim, again. “A woman who's both a doctor and a famous scientist. My, I do not believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting such an accomplished female.”

  “Yeah, things are real different where she comes from. Very progressive.”

  Sachiko eyed me as if I was babbling. “Yes, we have the vote, can dress as we wish, and we can have up to three husbands.”

  “You have three husbands?” he gasped.

  “Heavens no. I hope I don't appear to you to be that stupid.”

  After an initial shock, Lincoln chuckled lightly. “No, my dear, you do not look to be that foolish.”

  “If you ever run for office in my country, you have my vote,” she responded.

  Lincoln appear serious, again. “Now, where were we? Ah yes. I asked if we'd met and you replied not really. Might I pose to you a hypothetical, General Sherman?”

  He shrugged. “You are a lawyer, Mr. President.”

  “That I am. So, how does one gentleman not really meet with another?”

  “Beats me?”

  “What beats you?”

  “The answer to your hypothetical.”

  He chuckled. “It hits you repeatedly. Excellent imagery, sir.”

  “And, you are General Sherman's wife?” he asked Sachiko.

  “Lord no,” flew out of her mouth.

  “Ah, would it be impolite of me to ask you to avoid taking the Lord's name in vain while in my presence, Miss Jones?”

  Man had she stepped quickly into the doggie doo-doo. “My deepest apologies,” she said as she flushed three shades of crimson. “The weight of meeting you has greatly effected my fragile constitution.” She thought that sounded period-appropriate.

  “It has, has it? I'm sorry to hear that. Back to who you are, if not this man's wife.”

  “We work together, Mr. President. We're scientists at the same university.” She felt the need to add while pointing between us, “Both full professors and everything.”

  He looked stunned. “A … a female full professor of science at a major university? It is a major university, isn't it?”

  “One of the top schools in the country,” replied Tank.

  Lincoln flipped his hand at me weakly. “Perhaps that explains the men's breeches.”

  “Most likely,” I responded. “That has to be it.”

  He composed himself. “And what is it I might do for you four scientists? Er, you are all scientists, correct?”

  “Sure, why not,” I replied.

  “Do we have an appointment?”

  Tank squirmed a bit in his seat. “Not really, and no. We were in town and just wanted to pay our respects, Mr. President.”

  “Ah, fine. Most kind of you, I'm certain. Might I ask another potentially awkward question?”

  “You are the boss,” replied Tank expansively.

  “You know my name is Lincoln, correct?”

  “Ah, yes, sir. We are all aware of that fact.”

  “Then why do you continue referring to me as Mr. President?”

  “Because you are the president?” Tank sort of asked more than stated.

  “Yes, but my name is not that.”

  “I'll try and be more consistent in the future, Mr. Lincoln.”

  “Well,” he stood, “if there's no remaining business, I fear I must bid you a good day and return to this grueling and unrelenting labor.” He gestured to the top of his desk.

  “Of course, sir,” I responded.

  We shot to our feet like trained dogs.

  “Perfectly understandable,” added Tank.

  We all shook his hand.

  “Ah, one final last question, if I might?”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  I could tell Lincoln started to question my choice of words, but he let it drop. “Are you, in fact, General Sherman, a general in my army?”

  Tank looked to Heaven for inspiration. “Let me see. Are you asking me if I'm a general in the Union Army?”

  “I believe I am. Yes. Is there another army I'm unaware of besides the now disbanded Confederate States Army? Surely, a Northerner like yourself was never a member of that treasonous assembly.”

  “Ah, that's a separate and more complicated question to answer, sir.”

  “So it is. I withdraw the question and return to my original query.”

  “No, Mr. Lincoln, I am a general in an army different from the Union Army.”

  “My, but this is an odd conversation,” responded the president.

  “Sure is,” replied Tank.

  “As a kindred spirit, General Sherman, let me simply ask. Do you think it would be ill-advised of me to press you as to which army you actually serve in?”

  “Yes, sir. I think you don't want to go there.”

  I knew he was dying to ask Tank why he'd want to go anywhere, just then. Luckily, he was a wise and prudent man. He let it go. “Leave the door open upon your departure, please.” He sat back down and fumbled with the mess that confronted him.

  Outside in the hall, I remarked, “Seems like a nice chap.”

  Sapale gave me her best “look.” Then Sergeant Hastings came over to escort us briskly off the premises. Him, I could have done without.

  Fortunately there were several heavy woolen Victorian coats hanging just inside the entr
y. It was freezing outside. We were able to reasonably claim to the sergeant that four of them were ours. Since the women had on men's pants, I figure he would accept their consistent taste in their manner of dress. We sat on a low rock wall that meandered off to the right of the main entrance.

  “So, that was nice,” I stated blandly.

  “I don't think the word nice reaches the heights words need to reach to cover meeting President Lincoln in his office, shortly before he was assassinated,” responded Sachiko.

  “Okay,” I began seriously, “we need a plan. I assume we can all wish ourselves back to the ship. How long time is on our side is anybody's guess. We're going to need supplies, too.”

  “What supplies?” asked Tank.

  “You two need to eat and drink, for one thing.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “I assume time's, like most things in physics, decay rate is log-log plot. Maybe measured in half-lives,” speculated Sachiko.

  “Based on how amazing I felt at first, until now, suggests to me the decay rate is faster than it is slower,” Sapale said.

  “Agreed.” Tank sniffed loudly and looked upward. “I'd say we'll be down to ten percent of our maximums in an hour or two.”

  “Agreed,” I responded.

  “Lord only knows what the critical level is to manipulate time,” Sachiko wondered.

  “I hope Lincoln didn't hear that blasphemy, Dr. Jones,” I had to snipe.

  She grunted a laugh.

  “We don't want to get stuck here and have to swim through time with the locals. We need to get back and help defend against the Edoozers,” I stated.

  “Agreed,” came from Tank.

  “So we have to find a way to get home, without creating a paradox.”

  “Wait, I want to go kill my grandfather before we leave,” I said with as straight a face as I could.

  “Oh you do, do you?” challenged Tank. “Well, then you'd have to stay in this time line and wait a generation or two. Presently, I'd estimate your sixth great grandfather is working a field in the Eastern United States.”

  “Hey, what makes you think he isn't a land baron?”

  “Fine, he's a land baron. We're not traveling to wherever he reigns supreme to ex him out. Period.”

  “Every party loves a pooper, that's why we invited you.” To the tune of “Pretty Baby.” Maybe you know this little musical insult?

  “I think we can safely reappear in the Situation Room a few minutes after the Edoozer snatched us,” Tank opined, getting back to serious.

  I looked at him sideways. “I guess that could work.”

  “You seem less than enthusiastic, however.”

  “I am. If we return to our present, we're still in a huge mess. The Edoozers technology is giga light years ahead of ours. Aside from our wormhole pea shooter, we're defenseless.”

  “So?”

  “So we go home and we still die. You know if that Body Maker-lop doesn't return with bad intentions, one of the other clans will. And next time, it'll be more personal.”

  “What do you suggest then?” he asked

  “We return to the Body Makers's ship,” I stated simply.

  “Did you hit your head somewhere along the line. Is your fragile constitution acting up again?”

  “No. I'm willing to take the greater risk for the greater gain.”

  “You know, I've been saddled with him a very long time. He is quite the risk taker. Trust me,” Sapale said, gesturing toward me.

  “What gain would there be returning to the time ship?” he asked.

  “We go back and steal their technology.”

  “Jon, I know you're serious, because I hear it in your tone. But what you're suggesting would take a helluva lot of time.”

  “I know. And we'd have it. It comes in a big glass sphere.”

  FOURTEEN

  Several repair makers were scrambling to permanently fix the ruptured time-containment vessel. The body maker lorded over them, barking orders and screaming for more speed. For their part, they grumbled amongst themselves how the body maker could be so non-intelligent as to allow the meaningless ones to damage such a critical part of the ship. It was not only unheard of, it was incomprehensible to allow such a blasphemy. One part maker even claimed to have experienced hearing an argument between their body maker and the body maker of a clan ship that came to their aid. The crew all said it was defective for making that claim, but they also did not delete the information, once it was heard.

  “I will be in my rest and assimilation area,” howled the body maker. “I will return in the future. I had better be impressed with your progress or I will eat all your heads.”

  “Which future?” grumbled a service maker.

  The pack cackled quietly.

  “If I am not impressed with the body maker, may I eat its head?” said a repair maker.

  The pack squealed louder. Such bold words had never been thought or spoken.

  The sub-lead building maker heard the commotion and came over to make correct. “Work is not done with your oral apparatuses. Silence will happen.”

  “In agreement,” they all muttered back.

  FIFTEEN

  We materialized into the time sphere room, but I think we only just made it. Our prior time-jaunts were instantaneous. When we landed before, it felt like our feet were slapped against the ground. This shift seemed to take a while, and we sort of faded-in as opposed to boom, we're there. Our time mojo must have been right on the border.

  It was hard to say who was more surprised, us or the ten or twelve Edoozers laboring around the sphere. I know I sure was. We'd agreed before the time shift that Tank would try and freeze time if just what was happening, took place. If he failed, the order of attempts would be Sapale, then Sachiko, and finally, me. With that tactic, I hoped to avoid some potential conflict of time-freezing “wishes.” I mean, we knew diddly about the process. If we all wished at once, maybe we'd cancel each other out.

  Tank either hadn't, or couldn't do it. The gang rushed us. They emitted a painful high-pitched wail as they closed.

  “I want time to stop,” Tank said out loud in their direction.

  I had always maintained that learning was lifelong endeavor, and it was always a good thing. I began to question that philosophy. What I learned, on that occasion, was that, when one's time energy dropped below a certain level, one could slow time, but not stop it. The hoarde still came at us, but it was like the slow motion of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Luckily we could move much faster than them.

  “Everyone, down the hall,” I shouted, “then we'll try to double back here.”

  Before we had made the shift, we sneaked into the White House kitchen and “borrowed” a few items. One was a lit handheld-oil lamp. We were not going to be in the dark again. With its help, we easily outpaced our pursuers. Pretty soon, I was fairly certain we'd lost them. We double backed, as planned. The sphere room was empty. These guys had a lot to learn about ship's security, thank goodness.

  “You all keep a look out. I'll try and tap into the time vessel,” I said quietly.

  I was about to attempt what was easily the dumbest idea I'd ever come up with. The second item we liberated from the kitchen was the spigot from a beer barrel. Yeah, I was going to draw off time, as needed. Fortunately, if it did what I expected it would, and simply re-ruptured the barrier, at least we'd still get our refill and could begin with my other plan. It tied for the honor of being the dumbest one I'd ever hatched, also.

  “How's it going?” Sapale asked after a few seconds.

  “Not sure. I'm trying to core a hole with the knife first. There. Hey, a tiny rivulet of time is vaping out. This might just work. I'll … there. The spigot's in place.”

  “Does time come out when you open it?” she asked.

  “Damn, I'm good,” was my way of saying yes.

  “I hope it comes out quickly because Bozos, Inc. just entered the room. They're moving a little faster, too.”

  I s
et my mouth over the nozzle, and began sucking time in. Wow, that just had to become a new catch-phrase. Time sucking.

  The two Edoozers in the lead slowly grabbed Tank's heavy coat. He spun out of it just, in time. Another headed toward the back of Tank's head. Sapale tried to tackle him, like she was a linebacker. He outweighed her by maybe a factor of three. It showed. She was able to turn his body, but couldn't take him down.

  He shook her off and she spilled on the deck. She stretched out for Tank. Just before he got there to help her, I froze everything. The twelve Edoozers, and my three friends looked like a three-dimensional painting. Oops.

  I pointed to each of them, and individually released them.“I'm sorry,” I said once they were all moving again, “when I froze them, I accidentally included you. Now, you're unselected. You're welcome?”

  Sapale jumped into my arms. “It worked, it worked, it worked.”

  “It worked. Now you go fill up and let's get busy.”

  “No. I have a better idea,” Sachiko chimed in.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I'll let mine run out to zero. Then I'll fill up. That way we can get an accurate decay time, for future reference.”

  I bobbed my head. “Good idea. But, what if the bad guys come to life when one of us who is topped off is not with you?”

  “We'll just make certain that doesn't happens.”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan. You two, I gestured to Sapale and Tank, “Fill'er up.”

  “How much is full?” she asked.

  “Hmm. No clue. Experiment Two. Sapale, breath in the vapor for … ten seconds. Tank, you do the same for five seconds. We'll see what happens.”

  My first objective was to make certain no one on the ship was immune to our time spell. That meshed together nicely with my other major objective. Mapping out the ship. We'd only been in a tiny part of an truly enormous vessel. Only the time sphere room had enough light to see the ship's details clearly.

  The oil lamp had around six hours of fuel. That meant we could break up into three teams. Tank and Sachiko took the lamp. Us androids could go separately, since we needed almost no ambient light. They could explore a few hours away, and still make it back to the reliable light of the time room. Sapale would remain in the time room, to watch our time prisoners (love these new terms) and refill her supply, if needed. That left me to explore on my own.