‘What the hell?’ Biff muttered. ‘Two of them?’
Two of them? Junior thought. What the hell did that mean? Two of what? Two Marty McFly Juniors? Was the old man seeing double or something? Or was he just crazy?
Junior laughed as he walked away. He bet the whole Tannen family was crazy.
Marty turned the comer into the alley and stopped.
Jennifer was still there, asleep, where Doc had left her.
But she was no longer alone. Two women cops were getting out of their police car. They strolled over to where Jennifer was curled up, snoring peacefully.
Tranked out. I’d say,’ one of the cops ventured. ‘Smell her ears.’
The other cop obliged with a frown, but shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Run a thumb check,’ the first one ordered.
The second cop lifted Jennifer’s arm. then pressed the sleeping girl's thumb against the side of a small silver box.
A flat, machine voice spoke from the box, clearly but rapidly:
‘Name: McFly, Jennifer Jane Parker. Address: 3793 Oakhurst Street, Hilldale. Date of birth: October 29 1968. Arrests: none. Warrants: none. Convictions: none.’
The second cop frowned up at her partner.
‘Hey, did it just say her birthday was 1968? She’s got one hell of a job! Wonder who her doctor is. My mother-in-law could use a lift like this. ’
The other cop laughed. ‘She couldn’t afford work like that! That’s a whole face and body job.’ She looked back down at the still-sleeping Jennifer. ‘Well, she’s clean. That means we take her home.'
The cops picked Jennifer up and carried her to the police car.
‘Oh. no!’ Marty whispered as the police car took off - straight up. The cops had Jennifer, and were taking her home. Home? Who knew where home was? He had to find Doc Brown right away!
He ran out of the alley, back toward the park. ‘Marty!’ Doc's voice called to him. ‘Over here!’ Marty spotted Doc over by the Café 80s. Doc had changed his clothes, wearing the sort of outfit, lab coat, Hawaiian shirt and all, that he used to sport back in 1985!
‘Doc!’ Marty called breathlessly as he ran to meet him. ‘We're in some serious shit!’
‘What do you mean?’ Doc pointed into the window of the Café. ‘Did something go wrong in there?’
‘In there?' Marty nodded. ‘Yeah! For one thing, the real Marty Junior showed up!’
Doc’s eyes grew wide when he realised his mistake. ‘Great Scott!’ He snapped his fingers in frustration. 'The sleep inducer! Because I used it on Jennifer, there wasn’t enough power left to knock your son out for the full twenty minutes. Damn!’
Doc shrugged and shook his head. ‘It’s all my fault. Marty. I just assumed if we could get your son to say no to those guys, we could prevent the event that puts him in jail from ever happening.’
‘Doc. he did say no!’ Marty insisted. ‘And just as he was gonna change his mind, that's when I got into it.'
Doc raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, in that case He pulled the USA Today back out of his pocket. unfolding it to read the headline.
‘Marty, look!’ He hit the paper with the back of his hand. ‘It's changed!’
Marty looked over Doc’s shoulder. The headline was different. It no longer said LOCAL YOUTH JAILED IN ATTEMPTED THEFT! It now read LOCAL YOUTHS JAILED FOR RECKLESS HOVERBOARDING! And the photo of Marty was gone, too, replaced instead by pictures of Griff and his gang - and a shot of the damage they had done to the courthouse. The photo of Marty Junior was gone!
Doc pulled out his binocular card to get a better look at the courthouse, and what looked to Marty like a robot, with a USA Today logo on its back, taking a picture of the wreckage. Marty realised that very photo must be the one that appeared in the new version of tomorrow’s newspaper - the version they had right in front of them. But that was weird. How could something change when it hadn’t happened yet? Marty decided he still didn’t understand this time travel business at all!
Doc tucked the binocular card back in his pocket and grinned broadly.
‘Proof beyond positive that we’ve succeeded!’ he cheered. ‘Because this hoverboard incident has now occurred, Griff now goes to jail. Therefore, your son won’t go with him tonight, and that robbery will never take place! Thus, due to the ripple effect, the newspaper is now altered!’
‘The ripple effect?’ Marty asked.
Doc nodded. ‘Just as the past affects the future, the future reverberates into the past.’
Whoa. This was heavy. But Marty remembered something like this happening once before, when he had first messed things up in 1955.
‘Kind of like that picture of me and Dave and Linda,’ he asked, ‘where my brother and sister started to disappear?’
‘Precisely!’ Doc patted his young cohort enthusiastically on the shoulder. ‘Marty, we’ve succeeded! Not exactly as I planned, but no matter. Mission accomplished!' He took a step toward the alley. ‘Let’s get Jennifer and go home.’
Oh, no! That’s what Marty had meant to tell him!
‘But that’s just it. Doc!’ Marty exclaimed. ‘The police took her away!’
Doc looked like Marty had just told him that one of his dogs had died.
‘Great Scott! Are you sure?’
Marty glanced back toward the alley. ‘About a minute before I found you.’
‘Damn!’ Doc snapped his fingers in frustration. ‘Those cops were the reason I didn’t land the DeLorean here.’ His voice dropped lower as he confessed: 'Some of the modifications I’ve made on it aren’t exactly street legal.’
He waved for Marty to follow him into the alley. Once they were both out of sight of the courthouse, Doc pushed back his sleeve to reveal what Marty had thought was a wristwatch, but apparently also served as a remote control for the DeLorean. Doc twisted something on the wrist device, and the car appeared overhead, emerging from wherever Doc had hidden it behind the buildings. Doc pressed something else on the midget remote, and the car lowered to the ground. He pulled a larger remote control unit from another one of his pockets - the same remote he had used way back at the Twin Pines Mall, when this whole thing had started - and manoeuvred the DeLorean in front of them.
Marty had to think - was there anything else Doc should know?
Oh, yeah. ‘I think the cops said they were gonna take her home,’ Marty added.
‘Home?’ Doc frowned as he steered the remote. ‘Great Scott! If anyone's home who recognises her -you, or your family - and they traumatise her - or worse, if Jennifer actually encounters her future self - the consequences could be disastrous!'
Disastrous? Jennifer? Marty didn’t like the sound of this.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘The shock of coming face to face with oneself -when one is thirty years older - could be so severe that she could pass out!’ Doc waved dramatically at the ground. ‘And if she were to fall, crack her head open and get killed, you two certainly wouldn’t be able to get married. If you don’t get married, you don’t have any kids. If you don’t have kids, I won’t have a reason to bring you both to the future in the first place, and if I don’t bring you to the future, Jennifer won’t get killed!'
So Jennifer would be all right then? Marty wasn’t sure he exactly understood everything the Doc had said, but that didn't sound so bad.
‘Then what’s the problem?' he asked.
‘It creates a time paradox!' Doc waved his arms agitatedly. ‘A person can’t be both alive and dead at the same time! It violates the laws of physics!’
Marty still didn’t see the problem.
'Doc! You can’t get busted for violating the laws of physics.'
Doc nodded grimly. ‘No, but such a thing could luse a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space-time continuum and destroy the entire Universe!’
He paused, considering.
‘Granted,’ he continued, ‘that’s a worst-case scenario. The destruction might in fact be very localized
limited to merely our own galaxy.’
Only our own galaxy?
‘Oh, hey, well.’ Marty tried to laugh. It came out more like a croak.‘That’s a relief.’
The DeLorean pulled in front of them. Doc glanced over at what Marty was holding.
‘What's in that bag?’
‘This?’ Marty asked innocently. Doc’s gaze was awfully intense - it probably had something to do with all this talk about destroying the space-time continuum. Marty tried to ahrug it off. ‘Oh, nothing - just a souvenir - a book that looked like it might be interesting.'
Doc took the bag from Marty’s hands. He pulled out the book.
'Fifty Years of Sports Statistics,' he read. ‘Hardly recreational reading, Marty.’
‘OK, well,’ Marty confessed, ‘I figured it couldn’t hurt to bring back a little info on the future, you know - in case of cash flow problems -’ He was finding it a little difficult to talk under Doc’s level glare.
I’d place a few bets -’ His voice trailed off. He tried to smile, but Doc wasn’t buying it.
Marty, Doc replied in his best lecturer voice. ‘I did not invent time travel for financial gain!’ He paused book still in hand, to grab the lapels of his lab coat. The intent here is to gain a clearer perception of humanity - where we’ve been, where we’re going, the pitfalls and the possibilities, the perils and the promise - perhaps even an answer to that universal question: Why?’
Doc paused to gaze nobly at the horizon. Apparently, he was finished with the lecture for the time being. But Marty still couldn't see what he was doing wrong.
‘Oh, hey, I'm all for that, Doc.’ he replied, ‘but what's wrong with making a few bucks on the side?’
Doc’s intense gaze once again shifted to Marty. ‘Because the risks far outweigh any potential rewards.’
Marty had been wrong. Doc was still in lecture mode.
Doc Brown put the book back in the bag and tossed it in one of the futuristic garbage cans that lined the alley. Marty sighed. He guessed Doc was right, but it was a shame to lose that kind of opportunity. He supposed he would have to find other, more difficult ways to keep his life from the toilet.
Doc opened the gull-wing door. Someone barked. Marty looked in past the inventor’s shoulder. Doc’s sheep-dog was in the car! debinair
‘Move over, Einstein!’ Doc Brown said in the same tone he had used with Marty.
Marty circled to his side of the car, opening his own door.
‘Einie!’ he called. ‘Where did you come from, boy?’ He climbed into the car next to the sheep-dog, and realised he was still holding onto the hoverboard. He stuffed the flat, pink gizmo behind the passenger seat.
‘I d left Einstein here in a suspended animation kennel when I went back to 1985 to bring you here,’ Doc explained. ‘He never knew I was gone!’ He reached over and ruffled the dog's fur. ‘We’ll be home soon, boy. Just sit tight.’
With the press of a button, Doc closed both of the doors and pushed the DeLorean aloft. Now all they had to do was rescue Jennifer - somehow - without destroying the fabric of the universe!
But they wouldn’t have heard what Biff muttered to himself. ‘So Doc Brown invented a time machine!'
They wouldn’t have realised that Old Biff had been listening in on the entire conversation they’d just had.
They wouldn’t have seen Biff reach into a certain trash can and fish out a silver bag with a certain Sports Almanac in it.
And they wouldn't have seen him hail a flying taxi.
Fred saw the old fellow waving his brass-handled cane as the cabbie let out his last fare. The parrot on his shoulder squawked.
‘What’s the matter, Priscilla?’ he asked the bird. ‘Don’t you think we should pick this guy up?’
‘Taxi!’ the old guy yelled.
The parrot squawked a second time.
Fred shook his head as he eased the taxi forward. 'Sorry, Priscilla. A fare is a fare.’
The old man scrambled into the back seat of the cab, muttering something about ‘two hick flies' or something like that. Maybe, Fred thought, this guy was a weirdo after all.
The oldster pointed a quivering finger at a sleek silver car that was just taking off overhead.
‘Follow that DeLorean!’ he croaked.
Follow that DeLorean? That was the sort of thing people said in old, 2-D movies! Where was this old guy coming from?
Still, a fare was a fare. Fred eased the cab out and up.
The old guy kept muttering something about ‘time’ and he'd show them!' and stuff like that. Yep. He was a definite weirdo.
Fred sighed. After all this time, he should have known enough to trust his parrot.
Chapter Six
Officer Foley had to admit it. There were some parts of her job she liked a lot less than others. And taking tranks and addicts home had to be on the bottom of her list. She scanned the street as they landed - hard to believe this neighbourhood had once been a nice place to live.
‘Hilldale'.' Her partner, Reese, spat the name out in disgust. ‘They ought to tear this whole place down. Nothing more than a breeding ground for tranks, Lo-bos, and zipheads.'
At least, Foley thought, she and Reese agreed on something for a change. Sometimes, her partner's fanaticism about rules and regulations got to her. According to Reese, everything and anything had to be done by the book. Stop for coffee and donuts? See Section 8. sub-paragraph C. Reese had been a cop so long that all her human feelings were gone. Maybe. Foley reflected, she would end up like Reese, too, one of these days, her emotions buried under years of working slag-heaps like Hilldale.
Foley and Reese picked up the woman between them - she looked so young, Foley kept wanting to think of her as a girl. She must have spent a bundle at one of those cosmetic factories. And she lived in a place like this. Foley wondered if there might be something else going on here, the sort of thing a good police officer should investigate.
But she didn’t even mention her thoughts to her partner. She already knew what Reese would say. Pure conjecture, Foley. There’s no place in police procedure for conjecture. And Foley knew they didn t have time to investigate, either. They were too busy dealing with tranks and Lo-bos.
They pulled the girl - woman - from the car and carried her across what passed for a lawn, putting her down on the doorstep. Foley decided they might as well get this over with. She rang the doorbell. They waited for a moment in silence. There didn't seem to be anybody home. She noticed a thumb plate by the door.
‘They’ve got identipad,’ she said to her partner, pointing at the plate. ‘We could just take her in.'
‘Are you kirgo?’ Reese asked with a harsh laugh. ‘That’s a violation of the privacy act! We could get our crags numped!' She shook her head in that brusque, official way she had. ‘If we can’t revive her, we leave her here.’
Leave her out here? On the doorstep? Someone looking as young and innocent as that? In Hilldale, now, while dusk was falling? Foley hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Sometimes she hated her job.
Reese gently but firmly patted the sleeping woman's face.
‘Miss? Miss?’
The woman started to come around. She blinked her eyes, having obvious trouble focusing on anything. Not at all unusual for a trank.
‘Uhhhh,’ she groaned. ‘Where am I?’
You're home. Miss,' Reese replied matter-of-factly.
You got a little tranked, but everything's fine. Can you walk?’
The citizen still seemed a little disoriented.
‘I - I don’t know,’ she managed after a moment.
'Would you like us to take you inside?’ Reese asked.
Foley was surprised at that. She guessed, once the citizen was awake, regulations would allow you to offer assistance. Or maybe her partner still had some human feelings after all.
‘Oohhh The woman’s eyes almost crossed. Foley guessed she would have trouble standing, much less walking. ‘Okay,’ the citizen added weakly.
So now they could use the identiplate. Sometimes, Foley swore, she could make no sense at all out of those numping regulations! Foley gently picked up the citizen’s limp hand and pressed the woman's thumb into the plate below the doorbell. The door shooshed open.
Reese and Foley each took one of the woman's arms and helped her inside.
'Welcome home, Jennifer!’ a computer voice chirrupped merrily. No surprise that the computer was one of those outdated models, all warm and insincere.
Since the lights didn’t come on, there was no way to tell where they were going. They took her into what should have been the living-room.
‘Ma’am,’ Reese spoke with as much concern as Foley had ever heard. ‘You should reprogram. It's dangerous to enter without lights on.'
‘Lights on?’ the citizen replied groggily.
The computer activated the lights at tho voice command. Voice activation? This program was even older than Foley had imagined!
And the furniture in this place! She was sure there wasn’t anything in here made after 1990. The scratched coffee table, sagging couches and threadbare chairs, all reminded Foley of the kind of stuff you’d find in one of those charity stores - except the stuff in those stores would be in a lot better shape.
The two officers eased the citizen down on the sofa.
'Just take it easy and you’ll be fine,’ Reese said brusquely. ‘And you be careful in the future.
The citizen - Jennifer - looked groggily up at the two officers.
‘The future?’
There was the oddest expression on her face - like there was something wrong with the future. Maybe, Foley thought, she was just reading into the woman’s expression. Still, it wasn’t surprising. When you lived in a place like Hilldale, you didn’t have much of a future to look forward to.
‘So long. Mrs McFly,’ Foley called, trying to sound cheerful despite it all.
‘So long,’ the citizen replied, still half in her tranked-out stupor. In a way, Foley couldn’t blame her for turning to chemicals. Who knew - maybe Foley would have done the same thing if she had been stuck in a dead-end place like this?
Sometimes she really hated this job.
Back to the Future Part II Page 5