Fortune

by Craig W. Turner

  Erica had fallen asleep again almost immediately when she got into the car, which was fine with him. He needed thinking time, and wouldn’t be able to get it if they were chatting. He hadn’t told her that during his four-hour search for a rental car he’d actually worked in some brainstorming time. He’d gone down the beach for a while and walked. Things were happening quickly and Erica seemed to have a slight advantage – maybe 51/49 – of being in charge of their direction. He wanted to make sure he was comfortable with that. He didn’t want to let his growing feelings for her get in the way of making smart and scientific decisions.

  He’d told her that once they got back to the present time he was going to “do the right thing” and let the government folks in on his experiment. He knew that she knew he wasn’t going to do that. In fact, if she’d actually looked him up in the future as he suspected, she probably would’ve seen some evidence that it didn’t happen.

  What he was sorting out in his own mind, though, was why. His first inclination was to blame it on his mistrust of the government. Which had some truth to it – he flattered himself by thinking of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the creator of the atom bomb. “Now I am the destroyer of worlds,” was his famous quote after the government got hold of his technology. It terrified Jeff to think of going down that path. He could live with getting his best friend accidentally hitched, but he couldn’t even begin to guess the horrible applications for his technology that were possible in the wrong hands.

  But, he would turn it over if he had to. He knew that reasoning was a crutch for him to not face the real truth – that he simply didn’t want to give up his work and his plans to anyone. There was too much to learn about time travel, even if he couldn’t directly articulate all of the conceivable questions now. His question about Dexter was just another example of science that needed to be explored. Once he found out if you could actually restore a timeline that had been changed, he was certain there would be another concept that would require investigation. Then another. Then another. Giving up now because Erica wanted him to was not something he was prepared to do.

  But, she was so smart, he had to acknowledge, looking over at her in the passenger seat, her head leaned back against the headrest. Her intelligence was a resource – not just on the historical side, but as far as what was good and worthwhile science. She was one of the smartest people he’d ever met – mainly because she seemed to have a shrewd balance of book and street smarts. It entranced him, despite that fact that deep down he knew she was playing him. For something. He hadn’t figured out what she was after, but she was up to something.

  Which was what had necessitated the thinking time.

  What he did know, however, was that things had been moving way too quickly. He’d let Erica talk him into this trip because of the timeframe of her going back to California. Under more thoughtful circumstances, he wouldn’t have rushed into this the way they had, and they were fortunate that his future self was acting as a sort of guide for them. A chaperone, even. But once they got back, he was going to slow things down. He would plan on rescuing Dexter from his new life, even if he had to burn down that damn records office himself, and then get back into his lab and take some time to develop the next phase of his experiment. His work was never intended to be reactive, and it made him uncomfortable that reactive was exactly what it had become.

  Jeff’s favorite part of the drive north through New Jersey was a spot on the Turnpike where you come over a slight hill and the Manhattan skyline comes into view. From the time he was a kid coming back from the beach with his family, it was always a thrill to see the tall buildings suddenly appear to the east. He’d been so lost in thought, though, that he hadn’t considered what that view might look like in the future until he actually saw it.

  Simply put, it was breathtaking. In the distance, midtown, the old staple – the Empire State Building – still stood proudly, but surrounded by at least a dozen buildings of similar stature as though a forest of construction had sprouted up around it. Three of the buildings were even taller than the iconic landmark. Also dramatically different was seven new mid-construction high-rises surrounding the Freedom Tower at the World Trade Center site. The view gave an immediate impression of economic vitality – that the country had rebounded since 2015 in a big way. He thought back to the time they’d just left and he wished that they’d had the chance to see the enhanced skyline then. He imagined it would’ve looked even more altered.

  This one he couldn’t keep to himself, so he reached over and grabbed Erica’s arm. She awoke groggily and he pointed to the skyline.

  “Wow,” she said, straightening up in her seat. “They’re sure doing some work over there.”

  “Pretty impressive. All my life I’ve looked at that skyline – seen it change. Amazing that they can keep building and building on it, making it new.”

  She reached in the back seat and pulled a bottle of water out of one of the grocery bags, asking him if he needed anything. He didn’t. “What else did you see different? Anything interesting?”

  “Not really,” he said, though strangely he hadn’t been keeping track. “The cars seem a lot smaller and more aerodynamic. I imagine they’ve continued to work on better and better gas mileage.” He pointed to the dashboard computer. “This seems like it adjusts pretty nicely to our location. Things like traffic reports where you would have to tune into a specific AM radio station in our time – that’s all on here now, and comes up automatically. There was a little traffic just before Woodbridge and the computer told me about twenty minutes ahead of time, with an alternate route if I wanted to take it. Little conveniences. Hard to tell if they’re even standard or just luxuries.”

  “Nothing blowing your skirt up yet, I take it, aside from the skyline?”

  “You know, even in our present time, it seems every day you’re waking up to some new technology that revolutionizes the way we receive information, so I haven’t really seen anything that’s a surprise. A lot of ‘next logical step’ stuff, but no, nothing ‘blowing my skirt up.’” He laughed at her vernacular. “It’s only seven years, too. Not like we’re thirty years in the future.”

  “Yeah, because then I’d be expecting to see some flying cars and personal jet packs.”

  “Exactly.”

  She was still looking out the window. The skyscrapers, no longer off on the horizon as they drove toward them, were growing quickly. Remembering the promise that she’d made, she reached into the back seat and took Abby’s tablet out of its case. She engaged the camera and held it up to the passenger side window, framing the new skyline in the viewing area.

  “What are you doing?” Jeff asked, interested.

  “I promised Abby that I’d bring her back some pictures of the future. I know I shouldn’t, but...well, I think deserves something for helping us. I can’t imagine we’re going to find anything better than this.”

  “No, probably not.”

  She snapped a dozen pictures, then set the tablet on her lap. “So, what’s your plan now? You’ve had some time to think.”

  He smiled. She knew him too well already. Unnerving. “Here’s what I want to do – let me know what you think. Past, present, or future, you never want to try to park in New York. So, I thought we’d park in Hoboken and take the ferry over, provided it still exists. There used to be a free bus from the ferry to Times Square – we take that. Then, we get a hotel room in Times Square. There used to be a high-rise hotel near the Coca-Cola sign. If it’s still there, it’ll give us a great view of everything that’s going on.”

  “Yeah, but they told us we’ll never get a room.”

  “I’m banking on future me coming through again. I would’ve known that we’ll never get a room showing up like this – and I probably remember this very conversation. If things go to plan, I would’ve booked that room long time ago.”

  She shook her head dramatically. “This is screwed up. ‘I would’ve,’ ‘he would’ve’... I’ll be glad to be back home soon.
Won’t have to think about who’s where and what’s when and which you did what.”

  He laughed again. “It is kind of crazy, isn’t it? Get this, though... I’m going to send an e-mail to myself to let me know that the rental car is parked at the ferry in Hoboken. I don’t want to give future me late charges or any liability.”

  “Well, that’s understandable. But by the logic you just used, wouldn’t you – future you – already know?”

  “Probably, but why take that chance? Plus, I might forget. Sometimes details like that slip my mind.”

  “You seem to be doing pretty well so far.”

  A few moments later, Jeff pulled the car off the Turnpike toward Hoboken, following a series of blue signs leading to the “Ferry to NYC.” The ferry was another thing he liked to do as a kid – his uncle would take him into the city and they’d walk around, but always visit the Yankees’ store on 53rd. He’d always come back with a new t-shirt and a couple of baseball cards. Even now, he was excited to ride the ferry.

  They descended a long hill past the entrance for the Lincoln Tunnel and a sign proclaiming that the tunnel’s toll was $23, which made him glad that they’d taken the ferry and decided not to try to bring the rental car into the city. The higher toll on entry into Manhattan meant city government would be doing everything in its power to stem congestion – especially with the big event scheduled for the next day. As they came to the parking area for the ferry, they could see the full new-and-improved New York skyline up close and personal.

  “Wow, what a view,” Erica said. “I never knew this little area was here.”

  “Very inspiring, isn’t it? Always was, and it’s even more so now. I was thinking how cool it would’ve been for us to see these buildings complete in a couple years.”

  “You will,” she said. “You will.”

  The ferry parking lot was jammed, so they followed it almost to its furthest point from the docks and pulled into literally the only spot they saw. He made a note of the section and wrote it down, along with the make and model of the rental car and the license plate #, then they hiked back to the ticket gate for the ferry. Within a few minutes, they were crossing the Hudson and relaxing on the top deck of the boat. Neither of them spoke, both taking in the view. It was now midday and the sun overhead was warm for March. Erica laid her head back and soaked it in with her eyes closed, so Jeff took a moment to e-mail himself on his phone the information about the car. The universal wi-fi appeared to be working for the greater metro area.

  A moment later, his phone beeped. He looked at the phone, not believing that he would’ve responded so quickly, if at all. But it was his own e-mail coming back to him. “Dammit,” he said.

  “What’s that?” Erica was listening, her eyes still closed.

  “I e-mailed myself.”

  She looked up and nodded. “Makes sense. Same e-mail address. Just don’t open it. You –future you – should be able to retrieve it anyway. You can get e-mails in more than one place.”

  “True,” he said, strangely irritated that the email had come right back to his own in-box instead of disappearing off into cyberspace. “We’ll see if I reply.” He found himself agreeing with her that it would be nice to have a little reprieve from trying to figure out when he was himself, and when he was future Jeff.

  The ferry docked and the throng of commuters were herded ashore. Jeff and Erica boarded the bus destined for Times Square, and eight blocks later were standing in the normal daily hustle-bustle that would the next day yield to the biggest party New York had ever seen.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Erica had been to New York so many times that it was no overwhelming experience for her. In fact, Times Square looked much the way she remembered it from the last time she’d been there – bright, noisy, and congested with street hustlers trying to pan anything from comedy tickets to Statue of Liberty crowns. There wasn’t too much different, with the exception of one of the famous giant HD screens appearing to be at least three times the size of any screen she’d ever seen before. It was highlighting an upcoming action movie called Lightning Strike, starring a kid that she recognized as the defiant but caring teen on some sitcom from their present time that she’d seen a couple episodes. He was grown up now and all buffed-up, as he singlehandedly (and shirtlessly) took down a band of terrorists who were using some kind of gun that shot out lightning to hold what looked like a futuristic San Francisco under siege. As someone who usually preferred smarts and a good sense of humor over muscle, she had to admit to herself that those abs up on the screen could’ve been enough for her to start following this kid’s career a little more closely.

  At a key point in the trailer, though, there was a loud crack and a bolt of lightning – a literal bolt of lightning – skewered the sky about 100 feet over their heads and hit another smaller-but-still-enormous screen across the square, which picked up the trailer where it had left off on the other screen.

  “Alright, that was pretty cool,” she said after recovering from the shock.

  Jeff was rubbing his right ear. “If a little loud.” He started walking through the crowd, so she followed him. He eventually ducked into a doorway which was the main entrance to the “Q” Hotel. She looked up to see the building rising high above the screens, then followed him inside.

  He approached the front desk, but she lingered behind, watching. The lobby was extremely busy with people scurrying every which way. She wondered if it was normal business that drove them or if these were actually people in town to cash in their cash. Jeff was fourth in line, so after a few minutes of waiting she took a seat and pulled out Abby’s tablet. She rang up a news site and read a little about the Times Square collection drive, which was anticipating a crowd in excess of 300,000. It said people were already trying to camp out at the north end of the Square but had been forced out. She didn’t see what she hoped she would, though – any specifics about what would become of the money once it was collected.

  She continued her search until she felt someone standing over her and looked up to find Jeff. He was grinning.

  “It worked?” she asked.

  “Sure did. I do a good job of watching out for myself. C’mon, let’s get a look at this place.”

  She slipped the tablet into the case and followed him to the elevator. He hit the button for the 43rd floor and they rose quickly. Using his thumb to get in the room door, he explained to her that he’d given her name as well for biometric entry. Both of them went immediately to the window to look down on the rat race below.

  She pointed to the north end where the densest crowd had gathered. “I just saw that on the internet. People are trying to camp over there, but the police won’t let them.”

  “Yeah, I’d expect that,” he said. “Could be a really long day tomorrow for someone who doesn’t get in line early.”

  “Three hundred thousand people? This’ll be a disaster. Glad we don’t have to stay.”

  They scoped the entire area for a few moments. To Erica, it really was an impressive view. There was something about being up above all of the commotion below. A sort of peace. She liked it.

  “This is perfect,” Jeff said. “We can see just about everything from up here. I imagine there will have to be a bunch of spots where they’ll be collecting. We can pinpoint where they’ll be loading trucks.”

  “You know that during the collection drive the cash they collect will still have value,” she said, still looking down at the crowd. It was mesmerizing. Like watching a swarm of ants dancing on an ant hill. “Security will still be high. I’m a little concerned about how you intend to get a truck out of there.”

  Jeff left the window and sat down in the chair, putting his feet up on the matching ottoman. “The way I see it, there are ideal situations and there are less than ideal situations.”

  “That’s usually the way it works.”

  “Well, what we have going for us is that we don’t care about getting arrested. As long as we stay together, we can get o
ut of there quickly if anything goes wrong.” She could see his reflection in the glass. He folded his hands behind his head, giving her great confidence that he wasn’t just working off the cuff. Yeah, right. “What we don’t want to do is get shot.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “So, in my view – and let me know if you agree or disagree – the ideal situation is that we are able to hop into an abandoned truck and drive it away from the crowd.”

  Now that got her to turn. “Did you say take the truck? And we’re supposed to do that without getting shot? What’s the purpose of taking the truck?”

  “I’m thinking less about right now and more about our present time. I don’t want an armored car to suddenly appear in the middle of Times Square.”

  “It’s going to appear somewhere, though.”

  “Yes, but I’d rather have it happen down the street. Once we get back to our present time, we still need to get somewhere with the truck. It’ll be less conspicuous than right in the middle of a crowd.” He paused. “And we should go back under cover of night.”

  “No kidding,” she said. But since his “ideal” plan sounded pretty far-fetched, she felt compelled to ask him what his “less ideal” plan would be.

  “Probably easier is for you and me to walk up to the armored car, both grab hold of the time device, lay it up against the truck and pull the trigger.”

  “Just like that? Just walk up to it and take it.”

  “Sounds a lot easier than just stealing it, doesn’t it?”