Out of Time: A story of archaeology... sort of

by David LaVigne

  “Who built this?” He asked two time travelers.

  “Someone who shouldn’t have,” Campbell answered. “And now he’s gone, it’s broken and we’re stuck.”

  “It is not broken,” the scientist said, “it is wrong.”

  “How do you mean?” asked Mary from her seat, stuffed between Campbell and the side of the car.

  “It was constructed incorrectly,” Tesla said. “It won’t work because it was built wrong.”

  “But it did work,” Campbell said and that brought a curious, disbelieving look onto Tesla’s face.

  “Do you mean to tell me you traveled through time with this Mister… who are you?”

  “John Campbell,” he answered. “And no, someone else did. We used a different one.”

  “Stop the car,” Tesla said to the driver and the car slowed and pulled to the side of the road, Tesla pushed the door open. “I do not appreciate practical jokes, Mister Campbell, and you are making me late. Leave now.” He waved a hand toward the sidewalk.

  “It’s not a joke,” Mary said.

  “I bought a desk that used to belong to you, in 2011,” Campbell said quickly. “And inside that desk I found a disk that sent me back in time. A German man in 1936 built this one,” he pointed to the cylinder in Tesla’s hand, “and went back and fucked up history. He stole my machine and left and now we’re stuck here with his, which won’t work, and we need you to fix it so that we can set things right.”

  “That is a very elaborate story John Campbell,” Tesla said, “like something out of Jules Verne.” He motioned again for them to leave.

  “Please,” Mary pleaded, “you must help us. Just look at it, please. You’ll see that we’re telling the truth.”

  Tesla examined the device again. He quickly found a screw on one end of it which had escaped Campbell’s scrutiny because it was so small and flush with the metal. He pulled a set of very small screwdrivers out of his jacket pocket and undid the screw. The end pulled off easily. Inside there was a series of gears connected to the dials that spun around the outside. There was a small coil of copper wire attached to the end that pulled off and it was burnt black in some places.

  “My god,” Tesla said faintly. “I knew it would be possible, I never dared actually to try to do it.” He looked up at Campbell with a combination of curiosity and disbelief. “An actual chrononaut.”

  “Will you help us then?” Campbell asked.

  Tesla looked back up at the driver and said, “back to the hotel.”

  It turned out that Richter’s device was too weak to handle the power needed to time travel and it had burnt out, though Tesla wouldn’t take the time to explain to Campbell where the power came from. The design was flawed is all he could get Tesla to say. But now he was at least working to get it operational again.

  They were in Tesla’s lab on the thirty-third floor of the Waldorf Astoria. There were two rooms, each fairly large. One was dominated by a giant Tesla coil, a big tower of coiled wires with a ball on top that could generate huge bolts of lightning. The other was dedicated to various different experiments, consisting of everything from live animals to what looked to Campbell like a bomb made out of a microwave. There was a wall lined entirely with overflowing bookshelves. The desk that Campbell had bought, and found the time machine in, sat in the corner.

  Tesla was in that room, working at a large table covered in all sorts of tools and machines. He had pulled the time machine apart and was adjusting various little knobs and gears and dials inside, and replacing the copper wire.

  Mary was walking around the room, fascinated at everything she came across. Tesla kept looking up and yelling at her to put things down. Campbell walked over to the row of bookshelves.

  He glanced through Grey’s Anatomy and a biography on Da Vinci. There was a large tome on the very end, sticking out a little bit. Its spine read ‘A Concise History of the Ancient World.’ He pulled it off the shelf and a dozen other books came crashing down along with it. Tesla looked up from his work and glared at him.

  Campbell picked up the fallen books and did his best to put them back into whatever unintelligible order may have existed. Then he sat on an old wooden chair behind the desk and started to flip through the pages of the thick leather bound book.

  He was usually a quick reader and he was just skimming through, looking for oddities, but it still took him half an hour to get through half of the huge book. Periodically he looked up and watched Mary walking around looking at various experiments, having to stop herself from touching things, and it brought a smile to his face.

  He watched the mad scientist pulling things apart and putting them back together. He reacted to each new piece he came across as though he had never seen anything like it before, yet he immediately knew what every part of it did and how it worked. Campbell was amazed.

  At one point Campbell jumped up from his chair and ran across the room to where Mary was examining a series of small balls that were sparking at random, watching little lightning bolt flash out a few inches and then disappear. She was so focused that he startled her and she jumped a little. When she turned to look at him he was holding the book to her face and it was opened to a picture of a statue.

  “Look familiar?” he asked.

  She examined the photograph. It was of a statue of a man made out of what appeared to be marble. He was standing on a pedestal, his right arm outstretched with the hand flat, a little higher than his shoulder. The other hand was tight to his chest holding up a long flowing toga. There was a caption at the bottom of the page that read, ‘Caesar Titus, circa 77AD.’

  “A Roman emperor?” she said, drawing on what limited education an eighteenth century girl was offered.

  “Yes, but look closer,” he said, shoving the picture a little closer to her face. “Look at the face.”

  She looked closely at the face on the statue. It wasn’t a great photograph and the carving was a bit weathered, but it was clear enough.

  “It’s him,” She said, her eyes getting a little wide. “But how? The Emperor?”

  “The same way he became a colonel in 1776,” Campbell said, closing the book but holding his finger between the pages to save the place. “It seems he has a knack for getting himself into powerful positions.”

  “How long?” Mary called over to Tesla.

  It took another hour but Tesla was certain the device would work. As he was working on it he would stare at each part long enough to get a good mental image. He had a photographic memory and he was positive he would be able to replicate the design later so he had no qualms about letting it out of his laboratory.

  He walked over to where Mary and Campbell were sitting in the corner studying the history book. Campbell looked up as he walked over and the scientist placed the device in his hand.

  “You’ll have enough power for one round trip, so make sure you use it wisely,” he said.

  “The other device should still work, right?” Campbell asked as he took the cylinder from Tesla’s outstretched hand. “We could use that to get back couldn’t we?”

  “I have no idea,” he replied. “I haven’t seen that one and from what you say it is a different design. I would not count on it.”

  Mary leaned against the rail on the bow of the ship, staring out at the blue swells that seemed to go on forever. She was daydreaming, imagining one of those terrible, boring balls that she dreaded so much. It made her a little sad to think she’d never go to another one. She would never see her father again. She prayed that Elizabeth was alright and she beat herself up for having left the ball to chase after some random stranger and leaving her best friend to die. But how could she have known that would happen? She tried to push out of her head the thought that even if she had survived the battle in Boston, she was long dead now.

  Campbell was walking back from the dining room with two glasses of scotch. He stopped and looked at Mary for a few seconds. Her hair waved in the steady breeze and her dress flapped around her legs, show
ing all the contours of her muscles. He walked up and gently brushed her shoulder, pulling her out of her dream.

  “Thank you,” she said, turning around and taking the glass from Campbell.

  Tesla had given them enough money to get to Italy. They had booked passage on an ocean liner headed across the Atlantic the day before. They got a stateroom in second class, it wasn’t big but it was enough. He had been on old ocean liner before and at least this time they had a window. Mary didn’t complain because she was too excited about the adventure, and too distracted by thoughts of never seeing her time again.

  Like his last ocean voyage their tickets included two meals a day. They ate in the dining room, which this time was massive and rather fancy. He had thought he would never take a cruise again, but he was enjoying it. If he could push the whole time traveling, Nazi chasing ordeal out of his mind for a minute he might actually find it relaxing.

  “What were you thinking about?” he asked her. Something was troubling her, he could see it.

  “Nothing,” she said, and took a sip from her glass. She turned and looked back out to sea.

  “I didn’t mean to bring you with me,” he said. He took a guess at what was on her mind.

  “Oh?” she said a little sarcastically, “you don’t want me here?”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “But I fear that I’ve put you in danger. And you don’t belong here.”

  “I don’t know that that’s true,” she said, turning back to look him in the eye. “I don’t belong at fancy balls in the governor’s mansion.” She was about to say more but she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. “Look,” she pointed at the bow of the ship where a pod of dolphins was jumping, riding the waves as the ship pushed through the water.

  Campbell reached an arm around Mary and she held it close to her stomach, leaning her head back into his chest. They stood staring at the dolphins playing in the waves, a soft smile on both their lips.

  Chapter 8

  Mary and Campbell were standing in the woods as close he could judge to the spot that he had used to travel back to ancient Rome before. They had picked up some fabric and sewn together a simple linen toga and tunic for Campbell that he figured wouldn’t draw too much attention. They found some peach colored cloth and made a loose fitting dress and shawl for Mary that wouldn’t make her look too rich, but by no means poor.

  He turned the dials to early morning in 80AD. He tried to remember the exact date that he had left, but far too much had happened since then. He remembered the month but not the day so he set the dial to the next month to avoid running in to himself.

  “Why 80?” Mary asked, “That picture of Richter in the book said the statue was 77. He could have been there for even longer than that.”

  “Because I have a friend in 80 and I’m hoping he’ll help us,” Campbell replied. “You ready?” he asked and she nodded. “Hold me tight. Remember what happens when things touch the edge. And cover your ears.”

  She moved in close and squeezed him tight around the waist. He twisted the disk and the flashes and the loud cracks of lightning started and she buried her face in his chest until it was over. As the lightning died down Campbell looked around and saw a thick forest. They were standing only a few feet from his previous travel spot, the scorch marks were still visible. He walked over and dug up the little pouch of money he had stashed.

  “Alright,” he said and she looked up. He pointed ahead of them, the way he had walked out before and said, “This way. Let’s go.”

  They walked out onto the road and looked down the hill towards the gates of Rome in the distance. Mary stopped and stared.

  “It’s something isn’t it?” Campbell said, holding her shoulders and following her gaze towards the great city.

  “It’s not what I expected,” she said. She was looking at a huge stone wall surrounding a giant city of two and three and four story buildings. Smoke swirled up to the sky from chimneys throughout the city. She could see the towering coliseum. It was impressive, but not like she imagined. It wasn’t the beautiful, romantic scene from the stories. It just seemed like a big city, and the air looked heavy with the smog of a hundred-thousand fires.

  Campbell urged her on and they walked down the path to the road that led to the gates.

  Marcus walked up the steps to his apartment and saw that the door was opened a crack. He stopped and drew his gladius. He had just come home from work and was still dressed in leather and armed with a sword and dagger. Bodyguards needed to be armed well in Rome these days.

  He crept slowly towards the door, holding the sword loosely in his right hand. He pushed the door open with his left hand and stepped inside, bringing the sword up, ready to strike at the intruder. But he recognized the man just in time and the sword fell to the floor with a metallic bang. He ran at Campbell and picked him in his arms, almost crushing him.

  “Caius!” he exclaimed. “Where the gods have you been?”

  Marcus spun Campbell around a few times like an ecstatic child before he noticed Mary sitting on the recliner. He dropped Campbell and gained his composure. He gave Mary a little bow and introduced himself. She didn’t understand a word he said.

  “She’s not from around here,” Campbell said as he picked himself up. “This is Mary.”

  “Ah,” Marcus said, “From your homeland?”

  “Not exactly,” Campbell replied, gesturing for Marcus to take a seat. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  As usual Marcus had half a dozen containers of wine sitting on the table in the kitchen and Campbell looked around for clean cups, but only found two. He handed Mary one, took one for himself and handed Marcus the half-full amphora. Then he took a seat next to Mary on the larger of the cushioned benches.

  “What’s this all about?” Marcus said, looking at once curious and skeptical. It wasn’t like his friend Caius to disappear for a month and then show up like this, unannounced, with some foreign girl.

  “My name isn’t really Caius,” Campbell began. “It’s John Campbell.”

  It took a little over an hour to explain everything in a way Marcus might grasp it. At first he was confused, then a little hurt, and then he thought it was some game his friend must be playing, then hurt again. The further he got into the jug of wine the more his emotions seemed to change to curiosity.

  “So if I have this right,” Marcus said, pouring the last of the wine jug into Campbell’s mug, “you’re from two thousand years in the future, and you came back here to study me like some imperial historian or something. And somewhere along the way you picked up a girl seventeen hundred years in the future and then came back here again to… what exactly?”

  “Well,” Campbell said, “I need your help to take down Titus.”

  Marcus dropped the empty amphora and it cracked on the floor, but he didn’t notice. He slowly started to lean onto his side, then burst out into a fit of laughter so hard he fell out of his seat. He lay there for a few moments laughing, with Mary and Campbell staring down at him. Campbell and Mary watched him roll on the floor for a few moments and eventually he wiped his tears and started to pull himself up.

  “I know he’s not very popular,” Marcus said, still trying to catch his breath, “but that hardly warrants traveling through time to assassinate him.”

  “He’s not from here,” Campbell said.

  “Don’t tell me,” Marcus said, with a blank face.

  “He’s from 1936.”

  Marcus burst out laughing and fell to the floor again. “Ha! And I suppose Senator Gracchus came from the stars!”

  Campbell let him laugh it out. Mary was getting a little annoyed, she had no idea what was going on. Eventually Marcus pulled himself back up into his seat.

  “My dear Caius, you are amazing,” Marcus said, after he paused to try and think for a few more seconds.

  “I don’t want to kill him,” Campbell said. “We need to bring him back to his own time and destroy the time machine.”


  Marcus sat there staring into Campbell’s eyes. He was calculating. He knew his friend wouldn’t be so serious about a story like this if it wasn’t true, but how could it be? He rolled over onto his back on the bench and closed his eyes, holding his fingers to his temples.

  “Do you need a minute?” Campbell asked.

  “Please,” Marcus replied.

  “We’ll be at the Phoenician,” Campbell said.

  Campbell took Mary’s hand and they headed out, leaving Marcus to try and make sense of what had just happened. Campbell suspected he was heading for another jar of wine.

  “Do you think he’ll help us?” Mary asked as they reached the bottom of the steps. Campbell stopped at the fountain in the courtyard to sip some water, and then took her hand and led her down the street.

  “I hope so,” Campbell said. “I think he was a little hurt when I left without saying goodbye.”

  “How long did you spend here?”

  “A few months,” Campbell said, “but we became very close. I had planned on returning, but I didn’t expect it would be like this.”

  They walked down to the market where he and Marcus used to buy the makings of their evening meals. He bought a handful of figs and handed them to Mary. She popped one in her mouth without asking what it was, she trusted him, and she thought it was delicious. She consumed them all before they reached the end of that row of stalls.

  As they moved around to the next aisle something caught Mary’s eye and she stopped in her tracks. Campbell followed her gaze up to the coliseum. They were a few blocks away but could it easily be seen, with its tall arches, the beautiful statues and columns towering above the city. The polished travertine and marble shone bright in the fading sunlight.

  “I want to see it,” she said.