“Thank you so much for helping us,” Francesca says.
Dr. Quickly smiles. “Don’t mention it. I know a thing or two about what it’s like to be displaced and need help. I’m happy I get to return the favor to someone.” And with a cheery wave, our new acquaintance is gone.
We file into the house and find Mr. Cameron still awake. Tybalt and Mercutio, the two parrots, are still up as well and walking around on the back of his chair as we tell him our story. Mr. Cameron listens intently and admires our chronometers.
“How soon does he say you may be able to return home?” He asks.
“He says we have a lot to learn. Probably a couple of weeks at least.”
Mr. Cameron looks a little relieved when I say this.
I don’t think he is very ready to see us go.
Everyone has gone to bed as I settle onto the couch. Spartacus comes to nuzzle me briefly and attempts to lick my face in greeting, but then wanders up the stairs, leaving me to my thoughts. My mind is racing with all that has happened. I look at the chronometer on my wrist and the weight of it on my arm makes the situation seem more real. Until now I’ve not let my thoughts go to what we are trying accomplish, beyond getting Blake back to Mallory and the rest of us home to our normal lives. The whole experience has felt more like an odd vacation. The reality of Dr. Quickly and his accomplishments has changed that. What before seemed a massive traumatic problem now begins to look like an opportunity. We’re now friends with a scientist who has successfully traveled through time and who is going to teach us how to do it!
The little boy in me that has always dreamed of super human abilities has awakened again. I think about the possibilities of what time travel might enable. I could visit moments in history I’ve always wanted to see. I could go to a Beatles concert, see the first person walk on the moon on the day it happened, figure out who shot Kennedy. I could go farther back, see the Wright brothers make the first flight at Kittyhawk. What if I could witness the Gettysburg Address?
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. How far back could I go? Could I talk to Alexander the Great? Aristotle? Jesus? What if I went back and captured some animals that are now extinct and saved them? What if I could shed light on blunders the human race has made before they ever happened? Would I ruin time in the process? What about the future? Space travel? New technologies? What if we make alien contact in the future? I could meet one. My mind reels and I fall asleep with thoughts of medieval jousts and futuristic space ships swimming through my head.
When morning arrives, I’m awakened by an already dressed Blake, who is eager to get started. We arrive early at the outdoor post office where we’ve agreed to meet Quickly, and take in the passersby. I’ve begun to get accustomed to being in the eighties but some of the people walking by sport fashion choices that still surprise me. Francesca spends the majority of the wait alternating between snickering and admiration of the colorful outfits.
Dr. Quickly picks us up exactly on time and takes us back on the long walk through the house to the lab. When we reach it, he takes us to a side room off of the main study and sits us in some armchairs and couches he has arranged. He stands behind a desk and pulls out a stack of notebooks. He tosses one to each of us, and is about to start lobbing pens at us as well, but I get out of my chair and offer to disperse them by hand.
The next object he extracts is a globe. “We’re going to get you all started on learning your time zones. Who knows how many time zones we have?”
“Twenty-four?” I suggest.
“Nope. Reasonable guess, but we actually have around thirty-nine, depending on the year. Some like Newfoundland or Iran are only half hour increments from their neighboring time zones. We’re hoping to keep you in Florida and not have you venturing to Iran, but I’m going to give you a good grounding in the essentials.”
Over the next few days, we spend our hours learning about time zones, places that do and don’t use daylight saving time, the dates when certain times came into effect and odd concepts like “leap seconds.” We all learn to use Zulu time and Dr. Quickly begins to explain how to pinpoint exact moments in time on our chronometers. The concentric rings align in various ways so that you can locate exact moments in a given year, month, day, hour, minute, second or half second. They move by activating various dials around the side of the face. Some of our chronometers are different from each other but they all operate on the same principle. We have the ability to select the time zone we’re in and make calculations for whether we’re using daylight saving time or not. There’s also a quick set option that allows you to set a specified amount of time to jump, such as an hour or a minute.
I feel a bit overwhelmed by everything, but the excitement of what we’re undertaking keeps me motivated. I find myself getting up off the couch in the mornings before Spartacus has time to lick me awake. My growing enthusiasm pales compared to Blake’s. Each morning I find him in the kitchen waiting for us or coming in from walks. He’s still been walking past Mallory’s place in the mornings, but now instead of desperation, I see only determination in his manner. He’s taken avid notes and devoured every bit of information that Quickly has given us. I begin to think that it was a wise move for Quickly to disable the time jumping portions of our chronometers. I can see the danger of Blake taking the leap as soon as he felt a grasp of the concept.
I’m a little envious that Blake has someone in his life that he can’t stand to be without. While I have my share of acquaintances and associations I’ve left behind, I’ve been enjoying my time in 1986. I don’t miss work or my coworkers much, and while I feel the distance from my family, it’s not hard to imagine that we’re just on a vacation of sorts. It’s easy to think that they’re just going on with their lives. I have this vision of the world we left behind, frozen in time, waiting for our return. I’ve not let myself think too much about how they will be affected if I don’t come back. With our rapid progress toward getting home, that thought doesn’t worry me. We have Quickly and his chronometers. I’m optimistic that we will be home soon. But not too soon.
9
“There are thousands of ways to get yourself killed time traveling. Being in a hurry is the fastest way to find a new one.”
-Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1912
On the third day of lessons, we experience our first real taste of what we are getting ourselves into. We’re sitting at a couple of tables in a lab classroom, where Quickly is showing us the proper method of measuring spaces for jumping into and out of tight locations, when in mid-lesson he kneels down to retie one of his shoes. Looking up for a moment, he gives me a wink and disappears. I stare at the space he has vacated for a good five seconds before I can turn to my friends. Carson has a massive grin on his face.
“That was so cool!” he exclaims.
Robbie is leaned back in his chair with his mouth hanging open. He composes himself and sits up. “That’s crazy.”
“Where did he go?” Francesca asks. “Or is it when did he go?”
The next moment her question is answered as Dr. Quickly reappears a few feet from where he was before.
“Ta-da!” He grins. “I feel like these lessons might be getting a bit too dry, so I like to spice them up a bit.”
“You certainly know how to keep our attention now,” I say.
We are a mass of questions, but Quickly quiets us down to get back to the lesson.
“The key thing in jumping is to know exactly where you’re going to wind up. The way we do this is by jumping to something that is not moving through time, as I explained before. In this case, I was actually using an object on the floor.” He bends down and picks up a thin metallic disc about five inches in diameter. “Small objects are great for when you want to be discreet.”
“Where did you go? You didn’t come back for a bit,” Francesca asks.
“That’s true in this case,” Quickly replies. “But just because the time jump involved another element. What else did you
notice?”
“You didn’t come back to the same spot,” Robbie answers.
“Exactly. You get two lessons here, time and space. I used the first disc to jump away and returned using a second one. I could have returned to the same place, had I jumped back with the same disc, but I opted to jump back to a different location.”
He walks over and picks up an almost identical disc from where he reappeared. “You have to remember that you will travel to wherever your object is going to be at the time you arrive. You can’t get caught up thinking that you’re merely going to jump times, and end up in the same place. You have to be sure that you know the precise location you’ll end up. Had one of you happened to get up and kick this disc into the corner in my absence, I would likely have reappeared partially imbedded in the wall, and the whole lesson would have been quite de-motivating. I deliberately came back relatively soon to avoid that particular scenario, but long enough to make an impression, trusting that it would take you a few minutes before you would leave your seats and start wandering around. What else did you notice about how I disappeared?”
“You knelt down first,” Carson says.
“Exactly. Anybody figure out why?” Quickly waits a moment to see if we know, then carries on. “What’s missing?” He holds up his arms.
“You don’t have a chronometer on!” Francesca says.
“I don’t have a chronometer on . . . my wrist.” He reaches down and pulls up one of his pant legs. He has fastened a chronometer to his ankle. I lean forward on the table to get a better look.
“Chronometers are designed to operate by grounding through the nearest non-gravitite-infused object your body is in contact with. Since I was using an object on the floor, I wanted to ensure that I had a good temporal ground connection to the disk. I could have left it on my wrist, but there was a chance it would have grounded through my other foot to the floor. I would still have jumped but I would’ve ended up back at the same spot. That would have been less entertaining.”
“Where did you go in between? Were you here earlier? Or later?” Francesca asks.
“I actually was in my kitchen having a snack around two o’clock this morning. Before I went to bed last night I set up these discs in my kitchen. I needed somewhere I could monitor and it never hurts to be near your own refrigerator. I don’t like working on an empty stomach. I also noticed when I woke up that the last piece of pumpkin pie was gone, so I’ve been looking forward to that all morning.”
“So when you woke up this morning, you knew that you had been there already, even though it hadn’t happened for you yet?” I ask.
This is getting mind boggling again.
“Yes.”
“What if you didn’t eat the pie when you went back, even though you knew it got eaten this morning? Would you change something?” Carson asks.
“Ah. That is an excellent question, Carson,” Quickly responds. “It would indeed have created a bit of a paradox. That happens from time to time. Sometimes, as in this case, the paradox would be rather small. The knowledge in my mind and the location of that particular piece of pie would be the deciding changes. The universe seems to be able to handle a few things like that without much harm. In fact, little paradoxical moments happen quite frequently without us knowing it.”
“So that doesn’t screw up the world somehow?” Carson asks.
“The world rarely gets negatively impacted by pie,” Quickly replies. “Little paradoxes typically cause little more than the occasional feeling of déjà vu for those involved. Sometimes there is no effect at all. There are things that cause major changes, however. You all making a jump back here from 2009 en masse, and then living here for a bit, will no doubt affect quite a lot. You are essentially adding five new people to a time when you didn’t exist before.” He pauses a moment. “Well, you may potentially have always been here, it’s hard to say without checking all possible permutations . . . but in any case, my presence here is equally irrational for the prior stream of time, so there is a rational basis to suspect that by being here, we have essentially caused a new timestream. One in which we exist.”
“What happens to the old timestream?” Blake asks.
“It still exists. But we are ranging far afield of our original topic. Simultaneous timestreams are going to have to wait for another day. You will learn about it, but I need to get you grounded in basic jump safety first.”
Quickly has us get up and follow him into the main study and up the stairs to one of the balconies. He stops in front of one of the walls of cubby-holes and turns to face us.
“Francesca, tell me what variables I’m dealing with when jumping, that we’ve learned so far.”
“Aaaah, okay. We have the date, time-zone, time of day, and location of the object. The object needs to exist in the time we’re going to, and we need to know how far it is from the ground or the objects around it.”
“Excellent!” Quickly responds. “Those are all key factors. One other major factor is the electrical conductivity of the object. Since we are using electricity in our jumps we like to make sure that the object we are using will be able to withstand some level of electric current. It would be really inconvenient if we destroy or alter the object we are trying to use while jumping. The results of using a piece of paper for example might be catastrophic. You could accidentally light it on fire in the process of using it and destroy your link for the jump. This might be survivable if you were traveling to a prior point in the paper’s existence, but if you were trying to go forward you might be in for a rough trip.”
“Have you had that happen before?” Robbie asks.
“Not me personally, but I will admit that there may be a few lab rats that I have misplaced in the course of my trials.”
“Misplaced?” Francesca’s eyes widen.
“A few of them turned back up, but it was not always pleasant. Let’s just say, I strongly advise against that method. It can have interesting repercussions. What I’ve found very reliable, however, is using more durable objects.”
He reaches into one of the cubbies and pulls out a round piece of solid glass about the size of a ping-pong ball. It’s uniquely colored with half of the ball left clear so you can see into its interior. The interior is a swirl of various colors with what appears to be some symbols infused in the glass.
“I have a friend who is a glass blower. She makes these for me.”
We pass the glass ball around. “What are the little symbols inside?” Francesca asks.
“Those denote the origins of that particular anchor, as I call them. It was created at a specific time and date that was noted, and in a particular stream of time. All of them are handmade so they are unique. This can be used to travel to anywhere this particular anchor has been in its life along that particular timestream. You will notice I have a packet in each of these cubbies that goes along with the anchor.”
He extracts a small envelope from the cubby and pulls a stack of photos from it. “I have a series of photos of this particular anchor in specific locations and times. The photos are time stamped by my camera. I also make additional notes on them pertaining to their particular location in the photo. My camera is direction sensitive so it stamps a magnetic heading on each shot. That helps orientate me to the direction the shot was taken. It can also give elevation in mean sea level accurate to the half inch. Very useful technology. I can use this information to safely arrive at this particular time and place, or a very near moment. We’re going to be practicing making anchor shots for your own use.”
I look around at the wall of cubbies, each one holding an anchor and a packet of photos, and realize how much time and research Dr. Quickly has put into making this particular collection. I imagine that even with help it has taken decades.
Busy guy.
During the afternoon’s lesson, we are each given cameras and spend time learning to precisely photograph anchors on stands and denote the specifics of the anchor’s location. Quickly makes us take measurem
ents using a tape measure, compass and a watch before he eventually lets us try out his camera, which he calls the Anchor Shot Pro or ASP. We scribble notations in individual logbooks of our various measurements and locations, making frequent corrections as Quickly critiques our work.
“Is this right?” Robbie slides his chair over to mine to show me his logbook.
“I think you have your height mislabeled as feet,” I whisper. “Pretty sure that’s supposed to be eighty-seven inches.” Robbie nods and slides back.
“Now these have all been practice notations,” Quickly explains. “In the next few days we’ll begin logging actual usable anchor shots. It’s essential that you grasp the basics well, or all the more complicated knowledge I teach you will be useless. It’s no use bestowing the theory of transverse timestream navigation on someone who is going to teleport themselves in front of a steam-roller on their first jump.”
I look at the pages of scrap paper I have accrued with the dozens of crossed out entries on them.
We’re all going to die.
When we make it back to the house, we’re excited to fill Mr. Cameron in on our new education over dinner. He has barbequed, and we enjoy a delicious dinner of ribs and chicken while Spartacus weaves between our legs under the table, snatching up the scraps we sneak to him. We’re finishing up the last of the ribs, when the phone rings and Mr. Cameron goes into the other room to answer it. I hear him chatting for about ten minutes before he makes it back to the table.
“That was Mollie. Seems you caught a crab today in the Tortugas, Robbie,” Mr. Cameron says. “It apparently didn’t go well for your fingers.”
In Times Like These Boxed Set Page 17