A BUTTON IN THE FABRIC OF TIME
By
William Wayne Dicksion
Smashwords Edition
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Published on Smashwords by:
William Wayne Dicksion
A Button in the Fabric of Time
Copyright 2008 by William Wayne Dicksion
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Also by William Wayne Dicksion
A Brief Moment in Time
Beyond the Valley of Mist
Sagebrush
Puma Son of Mountain Lion
A Man Called Ty
Legend of the Lost
Danny
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Thanks to my wife Millie for her help and Malia Wisch for her cover design.
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A motto to live by
Strive for beauty and knowledge.
When you attain them, deny them to no one.
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Chapter 1
My name is Augustus Wilder, a 30-year old American structural engineer employed by a corporation that specializes in building unusually large structures. We’ve just completed a home for an eccentric billionaire, and I’ve done the final inspection. The billionaire said he was looking for privacy, so we built in a remote mountain area. He’ll get privacy, all right; there isn’t another home within a hundred miles.
I’d been working on this project for weeks and was eager to get home. I live in an Angeles suburb—too far to drive in one day. It was late afternoon, and I had been on the road for hours, so I rented a motel room and was preparing to get some sleep when my cell phone rang.
It was my boss, Joe Shannon.
"Gus, I want you to make a presentation tomorrow evening at Castle Rock Hotel. We're negotiating with a developer to construct a large building using your new method of joining glass and metal. The sales staff will negotiate the contract.”
“Joe, I’m in a motel, and I’m about ready to drop. It’ll take me till midnight to prepare a presentation.”
“Well, get at it. The meeting is at 6 p.m. Don’t be late; we’re counting on you!”
“All right,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll be there.”
I was tired, but I knew it would do no good to complain because, as head engineer, I had played a major role in developing the new method. I was grumbling to myself that the drive to Castle Rock would take all day when I heard a voice in my head say, “Take the old desert road; it’s faster.” I’m not used to hearing voices, but I checked the map and sure enough, there was a two-lane highway that cut through the desert that would save me a few hours.
Something about the strange voice started me thinking about my childhood. My parents brought me up as a Christian conservative, and I’d never given serious consideration to what I was taught in Sunday school, until I got into high school. Then, I realized that what I was learning in chemistry and physics didn’t agree with what the Bible said.
In Sunday school, I was taught that the Bible was the Word of God, but later, after reading more than one Bible, I found that not all Bibles were the same. Curious, I began searching for the truth.
* * *
To understand the ambiguity, I needed to know if the Bible is the word of God, why are they different, and why doesn’t science agree with the Bible? The answer was elusive, and reading the sacred books of other religions left me even more confused. So, I read the writings of the great philosophers such as Xenophanes, Plato, Heraclitus, and the more recent philosophers like Spinoza and John Scotus Erigena. They seemed to agree in general that everything is God. Other ancient writers, called apologists, said that God is pure reason. I found these writings stimulating, but they did little to help me understand why religion and science disagree.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on tomorrow’s presentation until I finished it and then fell sleep. I awoke early, had breakfast, and began the drive to Castle Rock, taking the old road through the desert.
* * *
The shortcut was two lanes of blacktop through remote high desert. It was a lonely road, but the fragrance of sage and the view of snow-covered mountains made the loneliness pleasant. I was enjoying the drive while listening to soft music on the radio when, seemingly out of nowhere, a bright blue light appeared on the horizon.
What in the world is that? A bright light other than the sun in the daytime sky was certainly unusual; however, I ignored it, because everything else seemed normal, and the light didn’t appear threatening. Perhaps the light is just my imagination—a mirage of some kind.
I spend a lot of time driving through the desert, so I know that you can truly believe you “see” things that are only illusions. Desert mirages can seem uncannily real. I’d heard stories of thirsty people, trying desperately to reach what they thought were lakes, only to find dry sand when they got there.
The glowing blueness moved closer until it was right in front of my car obscuring my forward vision. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw nothing for miles. Hastily I pulled off the road, left the car engine running, and got out to take a look. What I saw was similar to a glowing dust devil, but this was no dust devil—it carried no dust and it contained no debris.
As the strange apparition surrounded me, I heard a low hum and felt a pulsing vibration. The light was no longer just a blue light—it was more like an all-encompassing blue presence. Something fell out of the thing and hit my hand, but I couldn’t see what it was because the blueness obscured everything. For a few minutes, while this thing surrounded me, I felt as if I were suspended in space, and then as suddenly as it had appeared, the blue—whatever-it-was—moved on.
As I got back into my car, I stepped on something. I looked down at the road and saw a strange object, colorful as a butterfly. It had a center of white surrounded by three equally divided sections of red, blue, and green. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I was going to ignore it until I heard that voice again: “Pick it up.” Hearing words coming seemingly from nowhere startled me, so I looked around but saw no one.
I seemed compelled to do as the authoritative male sounding voice said. When I scooped the thing up, the hot sand burned my fingers. Strangely, the disk-like object was cool and felt pleasant. It was about two-and-a-half inches in diameter, with a bulged center tapering to smoothly rounded edges. Its top surface was of a gray metal-like substance with a white center surrounded by red, blue, and green. I had never seen metal like this before, and it reminded me of the huge button on my mo
ther’s winter coat.
Curiously, I touched the red portion—it lit up and emitted a low hum. I touched the blue, which lit up even more and the hum changed to a higher pitch. Then, after touching the green portion, the object emitted an even higher pitch. The button-like object was different from anything I had ever seen before, and I wondered what it was.
The searing hot sun was bearing down and beads of perspiration were forming on my forehead so I decided to get back in the car, but as I retreated into the car, I spotted a piece of petrified wood lying on the edge of the road. The piece of petrified wood seemed out of place because it was the only one around. I thought that fossilized wood is the remains of a tree that grew here millions of years ago, and it has lain here for eons. Is this an omen? I shook my head. None of this made sense, so the only thing left for me to do was to get back into the car and drive on.
The key was still in the ignition and in the “on” position, but the engine was dead. That’s strange; I left the engine running when I got out to investigate the blue light. I leaned forward and turned the key, but the engine wouldn’t start. I tried again, but it still wouldn’t start. I glanced at the fuel gauge. Empty! How could that be? I’d filled the tank only 30 miles back at that crossroad service station! Maybe a bouncing stone had punched a hole in the gasoline tank. I set the odd-looking disk on the passenger seat and got out to check for a fuel leak. No, as far as I could tell, the fuel tank was undamaged.
I got back into the car and sat for a while, wondering what I should do. The wind was picking up, as it usually does in the middle of the day. A swirl of dust and tumbleweed blew across the road. The air conditioning wasn’t working, and I was hot and thirsty. I aimlessly picked up the button and began rubbing it as I was thinking about the cool drink I had back at the restaurant beside the service station. Suddenly I found myself sitting at the restaurant counter!
* * * * *
Chapter 2
I looked around, trying to understand what had happened. My sudden appearance startled the waiter. He hadn’t seen me come in, and I could tell by his puzzled expression that he was trying to determine how I had just “materialized” at the counter.
The waiter stuttered, “I—I—I didn’t see you come in. May uh—may, I take your order?”
I was so stunned, I couldn’t answer.
The waiter pushed his white cap back on his head, bent over and looked closely at me, asking, “Are you all right?”
I still couldn’t respond, so he asked again, “May I get you a cold drink?”
“Yeah! Yeah! A cold drink would be nice. I’ll have a diet soda, please.”
He served the drink and walked away shaking his head. I took a sip not knowing what to expect. The drink tasted real, so I finished it, and then walked into the men’s room to look at myself in the mirror. I looked all right. I splashed my face with cold water and combed my hair. Everything was still normal—but it couldn’t be normal. Just a few minutes ago, I was stuck out in the desert with no gasoline in my car!
Then I remembered, I’m supposed to give a presentation at the Castle Rock Hotel tonight; the company’s depending on me. I’ve got to get back to the car and get to that meeting. Castle Rock is still miles away. So I figured, since I’m at a service station, I may as well get a can of gasoline.
The gas station was at the junction of two seldom-traveled desert roads, so it served as the main supply store for the people who lived in the area. I bought a five-gallon can and filled it with gasoline. Now I had fuel, but how was I going to get back to my car? It was too far to walk. Maybe I can catch a ride. I waited beside the gas pumps and a couple of cars stopped, but they were going the wrong way. I noticed that across the road an occasional car was going the way I wanted to go, so I picked up the can of gasoline, walked over and stood, hoping someone would offer me a ride. The road was just a cutoff, so only a few people were going my way.
I took the “button” out of my pocket and was absentmindedly rubbing the white portion while thinking about my car. Suddenly, I was standing beside my car! Again, I was shocked. I couldn’t figure out what in the blazes had happened. Somehow I had been transported from the service station to my car by simply rubbing the white portion of the button while thinking about the car.
I was glad to be back to my car, but now, I had another problem. I had set the gas can on the ground when I rubbed the button and it hadn’t transported with me—I should have been holding the gas can in my hand. Feeling foolish, I rubbed the red spot and thought of standing beside the gas can, and instantly, I was. I picked the can up and rubbed the white spot. The button zapped me right back to the car. Hey, that’s a little too much! How in the world does this work? The only thing I could figure out was that there must be an electrical current that somehow connects the brain to the hand. Then, when the button is rubbed, it somehow transports the person to whatever location they are thinking of. I scratched my head and said to myself, However this thing works, its way ahead of anything we’re able to manufacture. Well, if I can get the car started, I’ll drive straight to the hotel, but I don’t have much time. I poured the fuel into the tank, put the empty can in the trunk, and got into the car. The interior was hotter than hell, so I rolled the windows down and cranked the engine. It wouldn’t start. I tried again. On the second try, it started. The air conditioner had been left on so it soon cooled the car, and I felt comfortable. I closed the windows and sat for a few minutes, trying to collect my thoughts. Has the heat gotten to me? Am I hallucinating?
I checked to make sure no traffic was coming, and all I saw were some tumbleweeds blowing across the road, so I pulled onto the highway and started for Castle Rock. I could hardly wait until the meeting ended, so that I could examine the button again.
* * *
I checked into the hotel, took a shower, and was barely on time for the meeting. The man who introduced me said, “We are honored to have Mr. Augustus Wilder, chief engineer for Pacific Engineering, tell us about a new procedure his company has developed for building large structures.”
My boss, Joe Shannon, had told me that all I had to do was make the presentation, and the sales staff would negotiate the contract. So, after completing my presentation, I picked up my briefcase and hurried to my room. As I passed through the lobby, an attractive woman caught my eye, and her smile told me that she was looking for company. I never thought that anything would take precedence over spending time with a beautiful woman, but I couldn’t get my mind off the button, so I just smiled back and continued to my room. As soon as I got there, I took the button from my pocket and held it under the lamp, being careful not to rub it in a way that would cause it to vibrate. . . . I didn’t want to suddenly find myself in Timbuktu! I tried to open the button, but I couldn’t find a seam. I scraped it with my pocket knife to see if I could find one, but the scraping revealed nothing.
While in the desert, I had learned that if I rubbed the red portion of the button, I would be transported to the location I was thinking of, and then if I rubbed the white portion, I would be returned to my original location. I was curious to find out what would happen if I rubbed the blue or green, but I wasn’t prepared to deal with the situation if anything went wrong.
My work requires me to travel into remote areas, so I keep a backpack in the trunk of my car. I went to the car, got the backpack, and spread the contents on the floor of my hotel room. I had an array of camping equipment, plus a navigational instrument, and a Geiger counter. I keep a Geiger counter in my car because I never know when I might stumble onto a deposit of uranium—geology was one of my hobbies. After checking everything and making sure I had fresh water in my canteen, I strapped the backpack on so if the button zapped me off into some unknown place, I would at least be able to survive.
I was ready for some testing; I visualized myself in the hotel lobby, and rubbed the red section of the button, and instantly I was standing in the lobby. I was so excited about how well the button had worked that I inadvertently rubb
ed the white portion and found myself back in my room. That confirmed that what I had learned in the desert was right.
Now, I had to find out what would happen if I rubbed the blue or green portions. I was almost afraid to try, but it was the only way I’d ever know, so again I thought of the lobby, and rubbed the green section. I was suddenly at a place where men were building the hotel, and this is where the lobby would be when they got it built. This showed me that green was for traveling back in time. So I rubbed white, and again the button returned me to my room at the same time I had left. Soooo, this was beginning to get clear: rubbing white not only returns me to my original place, it also returns me to my original time. I was beginning to get the hang of this thing. Red transports me to whatever place I’m thinking of, then green moves me back in time; white returns me to my original time and place.
That left blue to be tested. I rubbed the blue section as I thought of the lobby and again, there I was in the lobby. But this time, the lobby looked old and showed signs of wear. It was obvious that time had passed, so rubbing the blue section had moved me into the future, and the people in the lobby were dressed differently. A man carrying a glass that looked like it might contain an alcoholic beverage saw me suddenly appear. He looked at his glass and then back at me. I rubbed the white portion and returned to my room wondering what the man did with his drink when I disappeared right before his eyes.
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