And Now, Time Travel

by Christopher Brimmage

  Captain King Solomon continued, “Besides, even if we sent you home right now, could you ever comfortably relax knowing that at some point in the future, you’ll be kidnapped by God-You and will ultimately die because your younger-self was too selfish to rescue you? This is about saving your life just as much as the rest of those in the Space-Time-Multinuum who would be caught in the crossfire. But ultimately, it is your choice. If you want to sentence yourself to death in the future to gain a few more hours on your couch right now, then I shall not stop you.”

  Younger-Arthur frowned and thought about it for a moment. Then he said, “Future-Me has had a good run. I’d like to return home now.”

  Ginny gasped, “You’re despicable!”

  Captain King Solomon scowled. “Utterly despicable,” he said. “Unfortunately for you, Arthur, I lied. I’m not sending you home yet, not until we rescue your future-self and finish what we started. I thought a little logic might cease your complaining for a while. But I guess I was sorely mistaken.”

  Tears came to Younger-Arthur’s eyes. He moaned, “Wait, what? You said I could choose.”

  Captain King Solomon ignored Younger-Arthur. He turned to Ginny and said, “Ginny, I give you permission to beat him and maim him however you see fit if he interjects or complains again. Just remember, if you maim or disfigure him too badly, his future-self will suffer those same scars and injuries. And since his future-self currently has but a missing finger and a slight limp in his right leg, I’d advise against harming him with anything worse than that, as otherwise you might cause a logical inconsistency in this timestream.”

  Ginny nodded. She kicked Younger-Arthur in his right shin. He flopped onto the nearby bench and slumped his shoulders. She continued to punch him and kick him.

  Captain King Solomon nodded to Ginny and then announced, “As for the formal briefing for this final phase of our mission, I shall do it now, since we are already gathered together. We shall journey to Earth 55,777 as soon as the Husker is free from the binds that currently surround us. Earth 55,777 has remained in stasis since the renegade B.I.T. officer, Agent 27142, and our very own 29333 detonated a Stasis Bomb on the planet, freezing everything in that reality. As is the purview of the B.T.T., we must alleviate the problem of the frozen time and remove any interdimensional-intertimeliminal threats in order to ensure the safety of the Space-Time-Multinuum.”

  Alex glanced over at 29333. She showed no shame at what she had done during her pre-B.T.T. life, nor did she look away from the Captain when he brought it up. From Alex’s past conversations with her, he knew that she believed she had done what was right at the time in order to save the Multiverse. She refused to apologize for it, and Alex respected her for that. Her ruthless orientation toward her goals is what led to her moving so quickly through the B.T.T. ranks and gaining an officer position with relatively few years of service.

  The Captain continued, “We will be facing hostile cosmic threats on multiple fronts: God-Arthur with Older-Arthur in tow, the pink and blue bear-shaped entities, and Hephaestus, the leader of the B.I.T., who was on the verge of entering the fray when the Stasis Bomb detonated. At the point in which we will enter Earth 55,777’s timestream, Hephaestus will hold in his hands a weapon that will allow for the containment of the cosmic bear-shaped entities. If we can commandeer this weapon from him, it will make success much easier for us.

  “In addition,” continued Captain King Solomon, “during the years since this reality was frozen in time, the B.I.T. has dumped a multitude of other random cosmic threats onto Earth 55,777 to prevent imminent doom after imminent doom to the Multiverse. Thus, when we remove the stasis effect, these other cosmic beings will be a problem, too. As such, I’ve contacted several of our sister-ships, who will be on alert to handle these other threats as needed. Our primary objective is God-Arthur and those bear-shaped entities, and we cannot allow ourselves to become distracted until they are nullified. Expect a briefing dossier to arrive in your rooms in a few minutes. It will likely be a few more hours before these BeavBok bindings are completely removed from the Husker and we can move safely, so take some time to familiarize yourself with the details of the mission.”

  Captain King Solomon’s instructions were interrupted when the entrance to the bridge opened and Bagoo entered. He dragged a small BeavBok behind him, its bubbled space-helmet removed and its face bloodied and its beak crooked. Bagoo tossed the creature to the ground in front of Captain King Solomon.

  Bagoo said, “Sir, as instructed, I searched the battlefield for survivors. I found forty-three injured Purple Shirts who were capable of survival. I also found this creature, hiding beneath the ropes. He is the lone surviving attacker.”

  Captain King Solomon stood over the pitiable creature. “Do you understand the death and destruction that you caused today? What was the meaning of this attack?”

  The BeavBok looked up at Captain King Solomon. Tears filled its eyes as it said, “My name is Tick-Tick. I come from a terrible future where the B.T.T. genocided my people. Agent 27142 helped me go back in time before my people’s genocide, and I convinced my people to attack you. We planned to prevent our genocide.”

  Captain King Solomon shook his head. “The follies of an unwise youth,” he said. “If only you would have realized you were being conned by your supposed comrade, you could have prevented so much slaughter. Let me show you something from our archives.”

  The Captain turned to his chair and typed something into its interface. The bridge’s view screen shifted and now showed a long string of text with the heading at the top: History of the BeavBoks, an Extinct Species from Earth 798,098. Captain King Solomon highlighted a paragraph toward its end:

  An ambassador of the BeavBok species to the Bureau of Time Travel was manipulated by enemies of the B.T.T. to cause the species’ downfall. The Bureau of Time Travel stationed two agents on Earth 798,098 in an attempt to prevent the genocide of the species by convincing the species’ leadership to dismiss this ambassador’s call for war. But this ambassador, known as Tick-Tick, emerged triumphant in convincing the entire species to attack the Bureau of Time Travel in a single, desperate gambit. During this battle, the BeavBok species was ultimately eradicated by the Bureau of Time Travel in self-defense.

  The Captain pressed a button and the words disappeared. He said, “You see, Tick-Tick, the B.T.T. did not commit genocide on your people. Your people did it to themselves through this attack.”

  Tick-Tick squealed in despair. “B-But how do you explain the f-f-factories covering my home? The B.T.T. got rid of us so that they could transform my home into a wasteland!”

  Captain King Solomon shrugged. “Your people were dead. The planet was empty. We made use of it so that it would not go to waste.”

  Tick-Tick squealed again. Alex felt pity for the creature, so he had to restrain himself from patting its head. Tick-Tick cried, “What have I done?”

  Captain King Solomon frowned. “You have caused the extinction of your species. But that need not be the end for you.”

  Tick-Tick looked up at the Captain, tears flowing freely down his broken beak. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Captain King Solomon held out his hands. “You may join us. You may become a member of the B.T.T., and you can work with us to prevent other genocides and other mass murders of civilizations. You can work to save more people than you killed.”

  Tick-Tick hung his head. Eventually, he nodded.

  Captain King Solomon nodded at Bagoo. Bagoo picked up Tick-Tick and placed him onto his feet. The bog ghost put an arm around the creature and led him toward the exit from the bridge. “Come on, we’ll get you all situated,” whispered the bog ghost.

  Alex smiled. He had read the BeavBok entry in the archives, back when he went to the Officers’ Academy following his promotion from Purple Shirt status. The remainder of the entry, which Captain King Solomon had not shown to the creature, detailed the redemptive story of one of the bravest and greatest agents the B.T.T. ha
d ever seen: Tick-Tick, who spent the remainder of his existence tirelessly saving lives. He would eventually captain his own B.T.S.-class ship and die sacrificing himself and his crew to prevent the destruction of the Space-Time-Multinuum at the hands of the Atomic Moo-Cow-Tornado Plague of Earth 886,000,432,111.

  Captain King Solomon sat down in the Captain’s chair. He said, “Non-vital bridge crew are dismissed. Please return to your quarters and read the briefing dossier for the upcoming phase of our mission. I expect us to be ready to depart in exactly two-hours’ time.”

  With that, a flood of Purple Shirts left the bridge, along with Ginny, Younger-Arthur, and Drillbot. Captain King Solomon turned to Alex and said, “You remember the upcoming mission on Earth 55,777, right? You don’t need to go refresh yourself on the briefing dossier?”

  Alex shook his head. “I remember it, sir. No need for a refresher.”

  The Captain nodded. “The phrase you need to remember this time through is ‘Opposite Day.’”

  “Got it, sir.”

  “Good, good. Then in that case, I’ve got a different task for you during the wait. Before we leave this earth, choose a Landing Crew of Purple Shirts. Go with them planet-side. As you know, the bearopi revolt was a success, and they have conquered Herceg Novi. Soon, they will conquer the rest of this earth. You are to treat diplomatically with them. The Purple Shirts you bring with you are to be stationed in the palace of the bearopi czar and remain there to prepare the bearopi for the incursion of the hovering-rhinoceros species from Earth 697,212 three centuries hence. These Purple Shirts and their descendants are to remind the bearopi through the generations of the diplomatic measures they can take to prevent both species’ dooms.”

  Alex sighed. He had hoped to get a couple hours’ rest before the next phase of the mission. Captain King Solomon seemed to read his mind. He said, “You’re First Officer now. Rest is for the weak and for people below your station. They don’t build statues and dedicate songs in honor of those who are well rested.

  “You will make a great captain someday,” continued Captain King Solomon, “and never resting is the bulk of the job description. We move from one emergency to the next until we burn out, and then we rest when we’re dead. On the way, we save trillions upon trillions upon trillions of lives.”

  Alex nodded. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

  And with that, he spun on his heel and hurried to gather a Landing Crew.

  Chapter 35

  A VISIT FROM A FRIEND

  Ginny sat on the cot in her room and flipped through the briefing documents.

  Blah, blah, blah, something about a weapon to contain the cosmic bears. Blah, blah, blah, limit the number of casualties. Blah, blah, blah, other B.T.T. ships incoming to put a stop to other cosmic threats. Blah, blah, blah.

  Ginny slammed the file folder shut and dropped it to the floor. She could not concentrate. Not when her lover had been kidnapped, and especially not when she was on her way to the reality where the Pink One was frozen in time. What if the Pink One regained control of her? What if she once more became a cosmic tool for death and destruction? She sobbed.

  She stood from her cot and stomped on the file folder. Her feet left little black footprints of dirt in their wake. At one point in her life, she would have taken this as a sign that she should shower, but that naïve girl was long dead and buried deep inside the recesses of her heart.

  Ginny frowned. Spiteful ghosts awakened inside her, phantoms of the pink tendrils that had once lived in her heart. She had the sudden urge to fight someone. The sudden urge to maim someone. The sudden urge to trample over her enemies and hear the lamentations of their beloved spouses and spawn.

  She closed her eyes. She took eight deep breaths, counting to ten as she inhaled, repeating her mantra of “You are NOT that person, and you NEVER WERE that person,” as she exhaled.

  A firm knock rapped on her door. She opened her eyes. She stood and opened the door. As it slid upward, guilt filled the pit of her stomach and weighed her down, as it did every time that she laid eyes on this figure.

  Drillbot towered over her. He said, “[whir] Does Ginny mind if – CLACK – mind if Drillbot comes inside?”

  Ginny waved him in. “Of course not. Come in.”

  Ginny crawled back on top of her cot to ensure she would avoid the daggers protruding from Drillbot’s wheels. He rolled into her room and the door slid shut behind him. His engines hummed idly, and the exhaust smelled like sugary candy melted over a campfire.

  “What’s on your mind, Drillbot?” Ginny asked.

  “[whir] Drillbot wanted to speak with Ginny, because she and Drillbot are about to – CLACK – about to return to a place with terrible memories for us – CLACK – for us both.”

  Ginny stared at her feet. Memory flashed through her mind’s eye. She watched herself kill the love of Drillbot’s life and then disintegrate the tyrannosaur into nothingness. She sobbed.

  “I’d prefer not to think about it,” she muttered.

  “[whir] Drillbot understands. It is painful to remember. But Drillbot must – CLACK – must gird himself. Drillbot must build more memories in his CPU detailing who – CLACK – who the real Ginny is before he sees the corpse of past-Ginny that he left on the – CLACK – the battlefield. For when Drillbot sees this past-Ginny-corpse and the pink blob that envelops it, Drillbot will experience – CLACK – will experience rage. And he may not – CLACK – may not be able to control it.”

  Ginny reached out a hand and placed it on his drill. She said nothing.

  “[whir] Drillbot has forgiven Ginny for her actions. Drillbot hopes Ginny – CLACK – hopes Ginny comprehends the significance of this.”

  Ginny frowned. She said, “And you know I never asked for your forgiveness. I can never forgive myself. I took from you—and, frankly, from many people across the Multiverse—the person you loved most.”

  Drillbot nodded. “[whir] But Ginny has Drillbot’s forgiveness, nonetheless. She was not in – CLACK – not in control of herself when she did those terrible things.”

  Ginny shrugged. “Doesn’t make me less responsible.”

  Drillbot shrugged back. “[whir] Drillbot disagrees. And the pain and remorse Ginny feels reinforces to – CLACK – reinforces to Drillbot that he is right about Ginny being – CLACK – being good.”

  Ginny frowned. “Think what you want,” she muttered. “Just don’t expect me to agree with you.”

  Drillbot’s speaker vibrated, his red, telescopic eyes retracted about an inch inside his head, and the three radar dishes on the top left side of his head spun slowly counterclockwise. “[whir] When we arrive on Earth 55,777, it will take everything inside of Drillbot to control Drillbot’s rage. Drillbot is saying this to let you know that his memories seem to work differently than – CLACK – than how they work for you fleshy beings, and if he loses control and murders Ginny – CLACK – murders Ginny, it has nothing to do with his – CLACK – his current feelings about her. For she has become a – CLACK – a friend.”

  Ginny arched an eyebrow. “How do your memories work differently than mine?”

  “[whir] It seems you fleshy beings can – CLACK – can file them away. Maybe even delete them. Maybe remember things – CLACK – things differently than they actually happened. But when Drillbot accesses information, Drillbot pulls up all of it at – CLACK – at once before filtering through for what Drillbot needs. It’s how Drillbot’s system was designed.”

  Ginny frowned. She did not quite understand. “I don’t quite understand,” she said.

  “[whir] For example, when Drillbot accesses the parts of his memory pertaining to Ginny, Drillbot accesses the good and the – CLACK – and the bad all at once. Then he must run a filter or search function to find what he needs. This is where the problem can occur. As Drillbot is filtering, Drillbot tries – CLACK – Drillbot tries to keep the memories organized in chronological order, but when Drillbot becomes too angry, the filter sometimes malfunctions and all the mem
ories process together, and he cannot tell current memories apart from past. Maybe it was a laziness in Drillbot’s original – CLACK – Drillbot’s original coding, but this is why rage concerns Drillbot. Because Drillbot may have difficulty differentiating current-Ginny from past-Ginny in the heat of – CLACK – in the heat of Drillbot’s rage.”

  “And this malfunction will almost certainly occur when we enter Earth 55,777, since we will appear in the moments immediately following Ginny Rex’s murder.”

  “[whir] Precisely. Drillbot resisted rage from overwhelming him when we went to the – CLACK – went to the Holo-Scouting Deck together to observe her moment of death, but Drillbot may not have – CLACK – may not have the same self-control in person.”

  Ginny patted Drillbot’s drill. “Drillbot, if you lose control and I’m a casualty, then I’m only receiving what I deserve. If this is the last conversation we have because you kill me, never feel bad about it. I only hope that before I die, I might do some good to make up for the terrible things I did.”

  Drillbot nodded. “[whir] And that is why Drillbot likes Ginny better than – CLACK – better than the Arts. Drillbot will do his best to – CLACK – to keep his memories straight so Drillbot doesn’t – CLACK – so Drillbot doesn’t murder Ginny. This shall be one moment that he will try his best to hold at the – CLACK – at the forefront of his processors.”

  Ginny was about to respond, but an alarm blared over the ship’s intercom system, followed by Captain King Solomon’s voice. “All personnel attend to your stations. We have arrived at Earth 55,777. We will be commencing our mission in exactly fifteen minutes. Prepare for battle.”