Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  “Then Patrick here came up with a very interesting twist.”

  She rotated her head to Patrick. “What?”

  “You, or the other you . . .” He dropped his head into his hands. “This is so weird.”

  “Yeah, well try being me. What’s your twist?”

  “You presented an example of how it could go wrong. You said what if the time machine and everyone here burned up five minutes after you were sent back twelve hours. Your future self would be stuck here forever.”

  She blinked at him a couple of times. “In other words going back and stopping 9/11 would mean permanently replacing my 14-year-old self with my19-year-old self.”

  “That’s what you said. My thought was, saying the time machine burns five minutes after you time travel, what’s to keep you, all of you, from waiting 12 hours to find out what happened, maybe preventing the fire from taking place?”

  Annie looked at him for a minute and then stood up. “I’m going to go get dressed.”

  When Annie returned Patrick was sitting in her chair. She said, “So we wait 12 hours. At 8:15 I get sent back here and it all repeats.”

  “But you’d have new knowledge. You wouldn’t be the same you. You’d be a new you, 12 hours out of phase with the old you.”

  “The only thing the new me would know is that I never got pulled back. I wouldn’t know why and the only way to find out why would be to not travel back. I’d be there when the fire starts. Since I wouldn’t travel back how would the old me know not to? At 8:15 in the morning I’d travel back, starting everything all over again.”

  There was a period of silence and then Professor Bradshaw said, “Consider this. If the new you traveled back again, who would you replace here? The old you or the new you?”

  “The old me of course. Nothing would change here except that this new me number two would have new knowledge to impart, that is that she has made the trip twice but still will not get pulled back. She just wouldn’t know why.”

  “Then the entire thing would repeat,” Charles said. “It’d be a 12-hour repeating loop in infinite, the new you being updated each time, but making no further progress.”

  “The only thing to do, then,” Annie said, “would be to break the loop. Since we created it, we’d have the power to stop it. We’d have to not do the 8:15 event, in which case the fire would happen and we’d all burn to death, or most likely the fire wouldn’t happen and we’d move forward.”

  Annie paced for a bit, the men watching her walk back and forth. “Let’s apply this to 9/11. Before going I’d already know that I wouldn’t be coming back, at least not right away.”

  “What do you mean, not right away?” Grae asked.

  “Let me just get through this scenario. 9/11 doesn’t happen, the terrorists are all captured, and then what? Fourteen-year-old Annie Waring is gone; whatever clothes she was wearing left behind in a pile somewhere. We’ll have to pretend that I’ve confessed it all to my father and he is all right with it.”

  Robert snorted a laugh. Annie threw him a dirty look.

  “And let’s ignore the sidebar . . . officials wanting to question my father as to where his daughter has disappeared. I doubt presenting me, the 19-year-old version, as his 14-year-old daughter is going to work. I’d have to turn into his niece from Arizona or something.”

  “From Montana,” Charles corrected.

  “Of course. Montana. It still wouldn’t explain the where-a-bouts of the 14-year-old me.”

  “She went to stay with her aunt and uncle in Montana. Could say it was an exchange.”

  She nodded her head. “It’d work for a while. I would then have to go to you, Grandfather, and tell you who I am.”

  “Seeing as you don’t have an aunt and uncle, nor a cousin, in Montana, I would already be suspecting something.”

  “Yes, you would. You and I would then develop a 6-year plan to build this lab, recruiting these guys as we go. The goal would be to bring me back . . . say 24 hours after going, plenty of time to ensure 9/11 is stopped. I’d already know to be at a certain place at a certain time.”

  “Won’t work.”

  As before, everyone turned to look at Patrick.

  “As soon as you’re brought back, you change history again. You wouldn’t be there to build this lab.”

  There was a long silence and then Professor Bradshaw said, “So the lab is here. It reaches out to September 12, 2001 to bring Annie back. As soon as she is snapped away history changes, and this lab is no longer here to receive her.”

  “Where does she go?” Charles says.

  “She returns to her 14-year-old self on September 12. Except for everyone going crazy with where she disappeared to for 24 hours, everything would be copasetic and the World Trade Center Towers would still be standing.”

  “I would have lost 24 hours out of my life.”

  “And it would take six years to do it,” Patrick added.

  “And there would be no evidence. Not a single person sitting here right now would know a thing. We’d all be just as much in the dark as the guy down the street.”

  Chapter 49

  June 14, 2007

  The silence hung heavy until Charles pushed out of his chair. “Anyone want a beer?”

  “Are we through experimenting?” Robert said, directing the question at his granddaughter.

  “Don’t ask me,” Annie said.

  “You’re the one who took charge. Thought you’d know.”

  “I have no other plans at this time.”

  “Six beers,” Robert called to Charles who was already in the RV.

  Charles returned with a six-pack and passed them around. No one questioned Annie’s age, not even her grandfather, so she popped one open. When she took a taste, she made a face and put the can aside. “You guys really drink this crap?”

  “You’ve never had a beer?” Patrick asked.

  “Tasted one when I was fifteen. Hasn’t gotten any better. Is there any soda?”

  Robert pointed at the RV. “A variety. Help yourself.”

  When Annie returned with her soda, Patrick gave up the pink chair for his spot on the ground. She sat down, gulped the liquid, set the can in its holder and looked at her grandfather.

  He said, “What have we determined? Is it doable? What could go wrong?”

  “Everything,” Annie said.

  “Agreed,” Professor Grae said as heads nodded.

  “The best case scenario is what we just discussed,” Annie said, “that we would stop 9/11 and it would take six years to get back to normal.”

  “The worst case scenario,” Bradshaw said, “is that 9/11 would not be stopped and then something else would go wrong and 14-year-old Annie would be replaced by 19-year-old Annie, permanently.”

  “In both cases there would be turmoil around my 14-year-old self disappearing. The only people who could be told the truth, and who would understand it and believe it would be my Grandfather, my father, and my Godparents.” There was a long silence and then Annie added, “The question really is, can it be done at all?”

  “What do you mean?” Charles challenged. “You’re living, breathing evidence that it has been.”

  “I don’t mean time travel. My mother proved that nearly 20 years ago, and so did I when I was a baby.”

  Patrick’s head turned and his jaw dropped.

  “Tell you about it another time, Patrick,” she said. “What I’m saying is, can history be altered? My mother had a philosophy, which I know from my godparents, that she was sent back to ensure history took place as it had already been recorded, not to change it.”

  “You’re talking about her meeting with Dr. Robert Oppenheimer,” Charles said.

  “You know about that?”

  “I’m part of this team. There are a couple of bits of knowledge they’ve shared with me, like the fact that you’re not going on 20; you’re going on 64. If my guess is correct, you’re the oldest person here.”

  “By a couple of years,” R
obert said.

  “Fine!” Annie said. “Everyone knows my secrets.” She glanced at Patrick whose shocked look was still frozen on his face. She was beginning to imagine, even dread, their conversation when they were alone. She returned to her train of thought. “The other piece of history my mother ensured took place was saving her grandfather’s life. She took his bullet, which eventually killed her.”

  “I didn’t know about that,” Charles said.

  She smirked at him. “Yeah, well, shows how much you’re trusted.” Instead of smirking back, he glared at her. Since she still didn’t much like him, she turned away.

  “When you were a little girl . . .” Robert broke off as a coughing spell took hold of him. When he had it under control he continued. “When you were a little girl, before you discovered the truth and during our annual get-togethers at the beach house, your godparents and I spent many hours philosophizing on whether our lives are preordained.”

  “Where was I?”

  “You were either in bed or somewhere with your father, who by-the-way did not participate in the discussions.”

  “No doubt. The whole thing about my mother and time travel can’t be brought up around him. If he knew what I was doing now . . . I can’t imagine.”

  “There is no reason he ever has to find out.”

  Annie held her arms straight out. “You don’t think he’d notice if I showed up at breakfast on September 11, 2001 looking like this?” The two professors cleared their throats. Charles’ angry expression didn’t change. Annie continued. “Going back to my original question, can history be changed at all or is time travel itself preordained, put in place as a tool to keep history on track?”

  “If that’s true,” Charles said, “then I don’t want to know.” He emptied his beer and crushed the can. “I’d rather be left to think that I have some control over my life.”

  Annie picked up her can of soda, studied it for a moment and then drank. “Maybe we can’t change the big things, like 9/11, but maybe we can affect little things that don’t alter the course of history.”

  “Like what?”

  Annie’s mind raced as she tried to come up with an example other than what she had in mind, but she couldn’t get past Tony’s face just before he turned to step through the scanner. He had grinned at her, but under that grin was something else, something caused by her words . . . hurt. She had hurt him.

  She looked over at Patrick and then up at the treetops, now silhouettes against the fading sky. “Like what?” Charles said again. Annie understood that his anger had been growing out of a despondency that began during the 9/11 discussions. There was anger also in the faces of Professor Grae and Professor Bradshaw, or maybe it was disappointment as they came to realize that their goal was unachievable. Her grandfather’s look, however, remained that of death.

  She stood up. “I’ve got to go.” She looked at Patrick. “We’ve got to go.”

  “We’ll give you a ride,” her grandfather said as he started to struggle out of his chair.

  “No. I’m supposed to get caught in a rainstorm; remember? We also need time to work on a story before we get back.” She slung her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’ll be here in the morning for breakfast. 7:00.” With that she turned toward the river and walked away, Patrick on her heel.

  They walked for several minutes, Patrick having to run at times to keep up. “What are we going to say to Richard and Mary?” Annie didn’t respond; only increased her pace. Patrick tripped, caught himself and then had to jog to catch up. “When were you born?”

  Annie suddenly stopped and turned around, and then had to straight-arm him so he wouldn’t plow into her. “Sorry,” he said.

  “I was born July 18, 1943. What else do you want to know?”

  “Then you traveled from the past?”

  “Technically, yes, and technically no. I was due to be born in August of 1987. On July 17 my mother traveled back to 1943. It triggered her labor and I was born that night. Four months later my mother was able to get me returned to 1987. Two days after that she followed me only to die on her arrival. Any other questions?”

  “She died during the time travel? What happened? What went wrong?”

  “She didn’t die because of time traveling. She died because she was shot the night before. She had lost too much blood and had gone into shock.”

  “Who shot her?”

  “A German boat captain.”

  “Why?”

  “He was trying to shoot my great-grandfather, but my mother jumped in the way. Actually he was probably intending to kill them both. As she took his bullet she grabbed him and they fell into the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of South Carolina. They both got away, but with the gunshot wound and having to swim ashore, it was too much for her. By the time she made it to the place to be picked up and transported back to 1987, she was almost gone. Maybe the travel killed her in the end; maybe she would have died anyway.”

  “Why was the captain trying to shoot them?”

  “My great-grandfather was a German spy. He had kidnapped my mother with the intention of putting her on a German submarine and taking her to Hitler. The submarine captain apparently had other orders.”

  “He kidnapped his granddaughter?”

  “He didn’t know she was his granddaughter, and until that night she didn’t know either.”

  Patrick opened his mouth and then closed it.

  “I know it’s a bit surreal. This is why I don’t read fiction; it can’t compete with my family.”

  For a time they looked at each other across the 18-inch gap that separated them until suddenly, Patrick stepped forward, put his hands behind her head and pressed his mouth against hers.

  This time, in those few seconds before it happened, Annie saw it coming; felt it coming. She started to back up. Her heart raced and she began to panic; she fought against it and tried to step forward to meet him, but the best she could do was simply not move at all. And then his mouth was on her. She tasted his lips, his tongue; forced the word “Patrick” into her mind over and over. Her knees went weak and she slid her arms around him to hold herself up until, suddenly, Tony’s face swam across her mind’s eye. She stiffened and pushed away.

  “Sorry . . . sorry.” She looked at him and then turned away. “I can’t . . . yet. Not until I . . .”

  “Until you what?”

  She started walking again, this time much slower. “Just something; something I have to fix. Please don’t ask me anything else.”

  The path opened out and Patrick managed to get up beside her. “At least you didn’t hyperventilate this time.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t happen to have a flashlight, do you?”

  It was at that moment that Annie noticed how dark it had become, and that it was beginning to drizzle. She pulled her pack off her shoulder and unzipped a large side pocket. She handed Patrick the big Maglite she purchased at Wal-Mart the day they met. From a smaller pocket she extracted the headlamp and put it on her head. “I hope these are waterproof. I also hope my backpack works as advertised. My laptop is in there.”

  “Do you carry that thing with you all the time?”

  “Pretty much. Let’s go.”

  They were within sight of the cabins on the outer edge of Grizzly Ranch, curtained lights casting an eerie glow through the drizzle, when the sky opened up.

  Chapter 50

  June 15, 2007

  Knocking on Annie’s door drew her out of bed and down the stairs. Wearing only her sleeping T-shirt and underwear she peeked out to be sure it was Mary and then opened the door. Mary just looked at her, the obvious question on her face. Annie pulled the door farther open and then closed it once Mary was inside.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No. I was awake.”

  “You really had us worried last night.

  “I’m sorry,” Annie said. “I kind of get that way sometimes when my mind starts working. Patrick caught up with me and we went f
or a long walk; got caught in the rain. By the time we got back it was dark and we were both soaking wet.”

  Mary looked at her doubtfully. “You should have knocked on our door; let us know you were okay.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I was so chilled all I wanted to do was get into a hot shower and then curl up in bed, which is what I did.”

  “And Patrick?”

  “I see that look on your face. He went home like a gentleman.”

  “That’s good, I think. Richard is walking with us this morning.” When Annie didn’t say anything Mary added, “You joining us?”

  “Well, actually . . .” Annie had considered using the being caught in the rain, didn’t get much sleep, and feeling a cold coming on as excuses for not going for their morning walk, but she didn’t like lying to Mary. She slept well, felt fine, and was perfectly dry. If she said anything about getting a cold, Mary would force more of her Lemsip and tea on her. She really didn’t want to tell her anything, but feeling cornered, she decided to resort to the truth, or as much as any sane person would accept. “Patrick is picking me up in a little over an hour. We’re going for breakfast,” Annie said and then braced for advice, or twenty questions, or something.

  “Oh! Why didn’t you say you had a date?”

  “It’s not a date.”

  “If you say so, dear. I’ll be looking for you tonight so you can tell me about it. We’ll be gone all day. We’re heading down to Great Falls to see Richard’s cousin. He’s over from Iowa visiting his wife’s family, so we thought we would meet up. Haven’t seen him in twenty years.”

  Annie was relieved. She had the whole day and wouldn’t have to answer to anybody. “That’s wonderful. I hope you have a good time.”

  “You, too, Annie.” Mary hugged her. “What are you guys doing after breakfast? Doesn’t Patrick work today?”

  “Ah . . . he’s going in late.”

  “So you’ll be by yourself.”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “Do something fun.”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe things will start getting better for you.”