The Last Time Traveler

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “Thank you, Morgan!” the traveler replied, his own voice edged with excited agitation. “How in all the universe could I have possibly forgotten to bring that up again?!?! Especially so soon?!?!”

  “Just answer him,” she barked.

  “Right,” he sighed. “You see, Morgan, The Island is... well... the island... the one in Never Never Land. It's were all the survivors live. And it's a really nice place! I mean, you've got like super high-speed internet, twenty-four hour shopping, an almost endless number of five-star restaurants, a huge ice-skating rink, amateur theater, year-round ladies' beach volleyball, and countless other entertainments. So, really, some might say that being abandoned on it really wouldn't be...”

  “Just get on with it, Rob,” she said, tilting her head to the side as she spoke.

  “Don't do that,” Morgan insisted.

  “Don't do what?” she asked.

  “Don't tilt your head like that,” he replied clearing his throat. “You're going to give me an aneurysm.”

  “You have a lot of medical problems...”

  “I didn't until recently.”

  “Right...” she replied rolling her eyes. “Either way, explain it, Rob.”

  “Okay,” he continued. “Like I told you before, Never Never Land is nowhere in no time. So whenever you get there it's always the same time; it's no time at all. However, the time generators create a bubble of fluid time around everything. And that time passes in its own stream. So, even though I got back as quickly as I possibly could, in spite of countless hardships and dangers and asteroids and pirates and giant blood-sucking space-bats...”

  “Rob!”

  “Right! Anyways, a year had passed for Cleo...”

  “Yes!” she replied, glaring at the traveler. “A year had passed for me, Rob. A year, all alone on the island...”

  “There are millions of people on the island,” he interrupted.

  “You know what I mean!”

  “Kidding...”

  “Well don't” she replied, raising her voice slightly. “It's nothing to joke about. I wasted a year of my life waiting for you!”

  “I'll give it back to you,” he smiled.

  “You can't.”

  “Sure I can,” he chuckled. “You hop in the regenerator, I'll make you a year younger.”

  “I'm not worried about my age, Rob.”

  “Okay,” he shrugged. “Two years younger.”

  “That's not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “I'll still have the memories.”

  “You don't have to,” he pointed-out.

  “You see, Rob, that right there's your problem,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “You just don't get it. I don't want to be abandoned for a year and then have you come do some patch up job because suddenly you want me for something. You never think about the consequences, you just do things and then fix it all later using a time machine, or a regenerator, or a brain scanner...”

  “It's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission,” he grinned.

  “No, Rob,” she sighed. “It isn't...”

  “So, you don't want me to make you a couple years younger?” he asked.

  “Well,” she replied, the trace of a smile on her soft blue lips, “I suppose that wouldn't hurt.”

  “Perfect,” he nodded. “We'll take care of that in no time. So, am I forgiven?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, before softening her tone. “But you're heading in the right direction.”

  “So you can make people younger?” Morgan asked.

  “Oh yeah,” the traveler replied with a smile. “No problem. Either way, Cleo, you want to get Vox or Krispy Kreme first?”

  “Krispy Kreme,” she replied thoughtfully. “Let's surprise him.”

  “Good idea!” he agreed, before pressing a sequence of buttons.

  The ship quickly lifted off and made its way back into orbit. Seconds later they were in the complete blackness of non-space.

  “Oh, and one thing before we regenerate you, love,” Robert said, turning his eyes to Cleo.

  “Don't call me that,” she sighed. “Not for while at least...”

  “No problem, Cleo,” he smiled. “Anyway, could you put yourself back in active rotation and contact Sister to let her know that you're not pressing charges?”

  “Pressing charges,” she replied wistfully “What a beautiful phrase... Oh well, maybe one day... Sure, Rob, I'll let her know.”

  “Thanks!” he said, rising from his seat. “Come on, Morgan. We'll prep the regenerator while she handles that.”

  The pair quickly made their way to what Morgan assumed was the medi-bay. At least that's what it looked like to him. There were a couple of tables, plenty of light, a tank just the right size to hold another naked floating clone body, and numerous instruments that might be used for various kinds of probing.

  The traveler stepped over to something that looked almost like a large future coffin and began pushing buttons on its cover.

  “So this is the regenerator?” Morgan asked.

  “Yep.”

  “And it can make anyone young again?”

  “Yep,” Robert replied.

  “And it does that by regenerating whoever it is?”

  “Yep.”

  “Doesn't that make them like addicted and power mad after a few uses?” the young man asked.

  “Nope,” the traveler shook his head. “This is reality, Morgan, not an episode of Stargate SG-1.”

  “Right...”

  “You ready for me?” Cleo asked, stepping lightly into the room.

  “Always,” Robert smiled, holding his hand out to the young lady.

  The lid of the regenerator opened, releasing plumes of white gas that Morgan felt were very sci-fi looking. Cleo took the traveler's hand before stepping into the chamber and lying down. Robert pushed a few buttons and the container sealed itself before a gentle hum filled the air.

  “Okay,” Morgan began, “So, when Cleo gets out of this thing she's going to be two years younger?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you have a defibrillator in here?” the young man asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “How long is the regenerator going to take?”

  “Like five minutes. Why?”

  “Could I hold the defibrillator for a minute?”

  “I guess,” the traveler shrugged, before stepping over to the wall and pushing a button.

  A drawer opened from which the Robert drew a small case. He opened it on one of the tables and turned to Morgan.

  “There it is,” he said, waving his hand at the open box.

  “Alright,” Morgan replied, looking down at the device. “So I guess I would put one of these pads like on each side of my chest?”

  “The patient's chest, yes,” the traveler nodded. “You want them kind of on each side of the heart. And they're self-adhesive, so you just stick 'em on there.”

  “Kind of like this,” the young man replied, putting one and then the other of the pads under his shirt.

  “Sure... I guess... I mean, if you were going to defibrillate yourself...”

  “And I guess this button...” Morgan began, taking up the small cylinder in the case and jamming his thumb down on it. “Ahhh!!!!”

  The young man collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain.

  “You know, Morgan,” Robert laughed, “I am seriously glad I picked you, man.”

  “Right,” Morgan replied, climbing slowly to his feet and gazing down at the regenerator. “Now I'm ready. How much longer?”

  “Seconds.”

  The lid of the chamber slid back, releasing even more clouds of the white vapor. Cleo sat up, immediately taking the traveler's outstretched hand and climbing from the device. The result wasn't what Morgan had expected at all. Oh, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was no doubt about that. But she simply wasn't what she had been five minutes before. It seemed that the next two years were going to be really good to her. He jus
t hoped he'd be around to see her blossom into her former glory.

  Robert headed back to the bridge while Cleo made her way to her room to get a change of clothes. For his part Morgan carefully put the defibrillator away. As he strolled back toward the bridge he heard rather unusual singing.

  “With a rebel yell she cried more bear claa-aa-aaws!” Robert sang forcefully as Morgan dropped back in his seat.

  “You know sometimes, Rob,” Morgan said, “I think you're not altogether normal.”

  “That's good of you to say,” he smiled.

  Morgan just nodded and stared into the nothingness outside the ship.

  “You seem pensive,” the traveler chuckled. “What's up?”

  “It's Cleo,” the young man sighed. “The whole regeneration thing... It didn't go exactly how I thought it would. I mean, she's still so hot I feel like my eyes are going to burst into flames every time I look at her, but she's not as hot as she was. You know what I mean?”

  “Oh, I agree,” Robert replied with a knowing grin. “I just like watching her grow into that super-ultra-mega hot again and again.”

  “I see where you're coming from,” Morgan nodded slowly.

  “Oh, and while we're talking about it,” the traveler said, turning to look at the young man. “I just want to make sure you know the score. Cleo is spoken for if you follow me.”

  “Spoken for by who?”

  “Don't worry about that,” Robert grinned. “It's a guy you can't complete with.”

  “We'll see about that,” Morgan replied puffing out his chest.

  “You can try,” the traveler chuckled. “But trust me, you won't get anywhere. You'll just end up with your eyes scratched out.”

  “Maybe...”

  Right after they finished this short discussion Cleo stepped back onto the bridge. She had changed her long sleeve shirt for a camisole, but had covered that with a black leather jacket. In Morgan's humble opinion she was even more dressed than she had been when they picked her up.

  For the next couple of hours the trio talked about this and that and nothing-in-particular. Finally they emerged from non-space above Earth on October 31st, 2017. The traveler had carefully selected the date as it would make their current quest much simpler. As soon as they arrived he leapt from his seat and marched off the bridge.

  “Where's he going?” Morgan asked.

  “No idea,” Cleo said, throwing her hands in the air. “But he usually has a plan.”

  Minutes later the Robert stepped back into the room dressed entirely in black and wearing a long black overcoat and dark sunglasses.

  “Call me Neo,” he smiled.

  “What?” both Morgan and Cleo asked.

  “It's Halloween,” he explained. “This way Cleo doesn't have to wear a holo-emitter or anything.”

  “Good idea,” the young man agreed. “Where's my costume?”

  “Oh yeah, here,” the traveler said throwing Morgan a rainbow colored clown wig.

  “I'm not wearing that,” he replied tossing it back to Robert.

  “Well the only other costumes I have are Trinity and the cowardly lion,” he explained. “Which one do you want?”

  “Hand me the wig...”

  “So, what am I supposed to be?” Cleo asked.

  “Well,” the traveler said, stepping over to her seat and pulling her up to his chest. “If anyone asks, just tell them you're my Orion love slave.”

  “I have to admit it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You dream big.”

  “You know those tiny points on your ears kind of make you like a little devil.”

  “If there's a devil around here, Rob, it's you.”

  “You might be right,” he winked. “Let's go.”

  “Where have we landed?” Morgan asked.

  “Winston-Salem, North Carolina, man,” the traveler smiled. “Where it all began. If you're going to go, go first class.”

  The trio made their way out of the ship and headed for the nearest road. The traveler had landed in one of the city's parks and he hoped to catch a cab fairly quickly.

  “So this is what the future's like,” Morgan said, looking around with a contented sigh.

  “Well, yeah,” Robert replied. “But I picked you up on the 6th and it's only the 31st.”

  “Right,” Morgan nodded, “But that means we're twenty-five days into the future.”

  “I guess that's true,” the traveler laughed. “You know, you really are a lot of fun to run around with.”

  “Thanks!”

  The group had only been walking along the road for perhaps five minutes when a passing cab slammed on the breaks before backing up so the driver could speak to them.

  “I don't know who did you're makeup, ma'am,” he said, staring at Cleo, “but that's the best costume I've ever seen. Y'all need a lift?”

  “Sure enough,” the traveler nodded, stepping over to open the door. “Hop in Cleo.”

  Robert helped her into the cab and then climbed into the middle seat, Morgan following right behind him.

  “Where y'all headed?” the cabby asked.

  “The nearest Krispy Kreme,” Robert replied. “And then the nearest Starbucks.”

  “Y'all going to a party or something?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” the traveler smiled.

  “Well, buckle up and we'll get rollin'.”

  Each of the trio fastened their belts and the taxi pulled off, heading into the city.

  “I get The Matrix and I guess I get the clown wig, but what are you supposed to be ma'am?”

  Cleo sighed before saying, “I'm his Orion love slave.”

  “Lucky him,” the cabby laughed. “But exactly what is that?”

  “It's a Star Trek thing,” Morgan replied.

  “Yeah,” the man nodded. “That makes sense. We got a lot of Trekkies around here.”

  “Well she's the Trekkiest,” Robert grinned. “I can't keep her out of conventions.”

  “Really?” the cabby said. “I've never been to one. But I think I might have to check out the next one that's around here.”

  “You might find it worth your time,” the traveler chuckled.

  Over the course of the next forty-five minutes they bought three boxes of bear claws (Robert decided to really live it up) and various other donuts and donut-related products as well as buying a couple of trays full of Pumpkin Spice Lattes. With these comestibles in hand they had the cabby take them back to the park.

  “Let's see,” the man said, “According to the meter...”

  “Here,” the traveler interrupted, handing the man a bill.

  “Alright,” he replied. “Out of a hundred...”

  “Eh, keep the change,” Robert said.

  “Thanks man!” he smiled. “Much appreciated!”

  The trio left the taxi behind them as they made their way back into the park and then into the ship. Next stop: pick up Vox. As they sat eating bear claws and drinking coffee another thought occurred to Morgan.

  “A thought just occurred to me,” Morgan said.

  “That's remarkable!” the traveler replied. “What is it?”

  “Well,” the young man said. “I mean, I like bear claws, and coffee, and counterfeit money as much as the next guy, maybe even more, but aren't we junking up the time-lines when we do stuff like this?”

  “I never said it was counterfeit,” Robert replied. “And in all honesty, Morgan, the time-lines have a certain amount of flex to them.”

  “Like underwear elastic?”

  “Sure... I guess,” Robert chuckled. “That's what I love about you, Morgan. You say that to a thousand people and not one of them is going to say underwear elastic. They say rubber-band or springs or even Glad trash bags maybe, but not you, man. I'm surprised you didn't say: like garter belts.”

  “Well, actually...”

  “Never mind,” Cleo interrupted. “How long before we reach Vox?”

  “About an hour and a half,” the traveler replied.


  “Alright,” she smiled. “I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when we get there.”

  “Gladly!” Morgan exclaimed.

  “With the call button,” she replied rolling her eyes, before stepping briskly out of the room.

  “She's something, isn't she,” Morgan observed.

  “Morgan, my boy,” the traveler replied, “she's a lot more than that.”

  Chapter 3: Vox & The Doc

  “Wake up time,” Robert said, pushing a button on the panel in front of him.

  “We've still got like half an hour to go,” Morgan observed.

  “Well done!” the traveler exclaimed. “You managed to read the monitor.”

  “Well, yeah,” the young man replied. “But it's just the trip timer you set...”

  “True,” Robert nodded. “But you have to start somewhere.”

  “Either way, we've still got half an hour.”

  “Yeah,” the traveler said. “But Cleo's gonna want to brush her teeth after she wakes up. And she'll probably want to grab a shower too.”

  The next thing Morgan remembered was Robert shaking him vigorously by the shoulders.

  “You in there, man?” he asked, gently slapping him on the face. “You alright?”

  “Yeah,” he replied with a start. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

  “We were talking and all the sudden you just got this vacant expression on your face.”

  “I think I was having a waking dream...”

  “Weird,” Robert replied. “You get 'em often?”

  “I don't think I've ever had one before...”

  “You probably just need some sleep,” the traveler suggested. “After all, it would be... around eight... your time. That's not that late... What time do you normally go to bed?”

  “Around eleven I guess...”

  “Hmmm... Probably just the stress of time travel.”

  “Must be I guess.”

  A few minutes later Cleo stepped into the cockpit wearing high heels, black stockings, a black leather mini-skirt, a fresh gray camisole, and her leather jacket. She also happened to be vigorously rubbing her head with a towel at that moment.

  “What's with him?” she asked, carefully considering Morgan's slack jawed grin.

  “Crap!” Robert replied, once again shaking the young man. “This is the second time this has happened in like twenty minutes. You think he's hypoglycemic?”