[Chronicles of Time 01.0] Chronicles of Time

by J. C. Allen

  When she reached the couch downstairs, Abby attempted to squeeze between Rick and Kaylie, then Rick and Alex, but neither would give ground so she finally settled in between Anna and Jessie; Jessie was all too eager to get some space between her and her cousin.

  The entire gang continuously poked and prodded the cube, trying to figure it out. Nobody seemed to be in any hurry to watch the movies they had selected. Jessica finally grabbed the cube from an off-guard Christy, stared intently at the spiral design on one side and announced, “Watch this!”

  The other girls began teasing her as she intoned, “Follow the path,” over and over. She then began tracing the vortex with her finger from the outside to the inside.

  “You’re so stupid!” Alex uttered scornfully.

  The cube suddenly started to vibrate, and Jessica hastily dumped it on the table, backing off slightly. Then they all edged closer for a better look as the sides appeared to split and unfold.

  Rick pulled all the curious heads away from it. “Don’t get near or touch it; we don’t know what’s happening,” he warned.

  The top unfolded to the left and each side slowly peeled away and laid flat. One of the flaps unfurled further, completing an eighteen by 24-inch rectangle with a six-inch square attached to the right containing another spiral. All seams vanished as if on command, forming a smooth surface. The square at the bottom contained seven curious items, and the entire surface of the rectangle was riddled with maps, diagrams and instructions, all in English.

  Curiosity overcoming apprehension, Rick came forward to examine the contents. The others clutched him and held onto each other in both fright and wonder, staying well behind Rick, but peering around and over him.

  Rick cautiously touched one of the items on the bottom square and when it didn’t explode, he hesitantly picked it up. The object looked like a deep red crystal, about two inches long, shaped like a finely faceted teardrop. He held it and closed his fingers around it; it seemed to radiate heat. Satisfied it was not dangerous, he passed it around.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t touch this stuff, Dad,” Alex timidly protested.

  “I don’t get the feeling this stuff is meant to be harmful,” Abby replied for him. “It came with instructions.”

  Rick then plucked a thin device off the square. It resembled a cell phone without a display. It had five buttons arranged in a cross pattern. He laid it back down on the table and lifted what appeared to be four necklaces with shiny crystal sphere pendants. Under the tangle was a coin — a shiny and barely worn gold coin.

  “It’s dated 1755,” he read, “I wonder if that was when it was buried?”

  “It couldn’t have been earlier,” Abby declared, causing a groan from the others.

  Each of the girls, except Alex, picked up a necklace and checked them out. The chains appeared to be made from some sort of metal fiber, but were flexible as a thread, only slightly thicker. There was no clasp, obviously fitting over the head. The spheres attached to them were completely reflective; one silver like a pinball, one gold, one blue and one red. Like the mysterious metal of the cube, the spheres appeared impervious to damage; their shiny surfaces were an awe-inspiring display of perfection.

  Alex picked up what was once the cube, it now appeared to be a solid, unbendable piece of metal. While the outside of the box had seemed holographic, the inside was finely etched, much like her trophies and plaques, but with unimaginable detail. “Dad,” she nudged him, “how big will your projector magnify?”

  “I think 25 times. Why?”

  “I guess that’s better than nothing, but we might need a microscope,” she said while rising to her feet without taking her eyes off of the metal. She shuffled over to the projector, positioned it as far as possible from the wall, flipped the switch on, and laid the metal across it, dialing in the maximum zoom. She began to adjust the image to fit the entire wall, and then studiously approached.

  “Kill the lights!” Alex demanded, “I think I can read this… maybe!”

  Abby immediately flicked off the lights, while the others continued to study one item or another, remarking, questioning, and imagining their purpose. Abby took the opportunity to steal Alex’s seat by Rick, settled in and watched over his shoulder as he tried key combinations on the slim device. She looked down at the last item on the table, the coin, while the girls each marveled at their reflections in the globes and the odd, silky feel of the necklace chains.

  “What could be the significance of 1755?” Abby pondered out loud.

  “There was a ‘date’ matching that on the cube. Maybe it’s a clue? I don’t know. This is all a bit difficult to comprehend!” Rick shrugged. He sat back, put his arm around Abby and exchanged items with her, “See if you can figure this one out.”

  Abby turned, inspected, poked, rubbed, tapped, spoke to and breathed on the piece like a caveman trying to figure out an MP3 player. Nothing seemed to work.

  They all continued to trade items, each inspecting while Alex intensely scrutinized the inscriptions on the former box itself bit by bit until she was satisfied. The rest of the group had forgotten her in their obsessive attempts to make sense of their piece of the puzzle.

  Alex suddenly strode over and held out her hand, “Give me the Universal Chronicler, please.”

  Twelve eyes stared at her like puppy dogs at a whistle.

  “The what?” Anna finally questioned.

  “This—” she indicated the slim device which Christy was currently examining, holding it up to her ear like a shell, expecting to hear something. Christy warily handed it to her. Alex continued, “—is a Universal Chronicler, it records information and everything the omni-directional, four-dimensional recording devices observe when activated.” She looked into the crowd of eyes appraising her as if she were juggling bowling balls with her feet. Alex pressed her thumb into the center button and counted, “One, two, three—”

  Seemingly from nowhere came a display screen roughly six inches above the top of the chronicler, leaning at a 45 degree angle. A menu appeared with options of record and playback.

  She explained, “It’s really quite easy to use — simply select which, or all, of the ODFDs (necklaces) you want to start recording, and it will record everything it sees until you turn it off. Or, it will automatically copy any recordings from them while they were ‘displaced.’ I assume that means ‘in another time.’ These things are made to keep records of time travel. The ODFD’s record 3D images for ten yards in every direction at all times and can hold up to four centuries of video—”

  “WOW!” Kaylie exclaimed.

  “That’s not possible!” Christy concluded.

  “Maybe not now…” Rick intruded, “but thousands of years in the future…”

  “Well, smarty, what about this?” Jessica challenged, holding the red teardrop.

  “That is the time stone. It operates the ‘displacement machine’.”

  “Uh, the what?” Anna was still totally baffled by the whole thing.

  “The time machine, you dork!” Jessica rudely clarified.

  “What time machine?”

  “The time machine the map leads to,” Alex revealed.

  Stunned, everyone swiveled their heads toward the wall at once.

  “But I don’t quite understand it all,” Alex admitted.

  “Well, let’s take a look at it,” Rick said as he got up and led the crew to check out the display.

  The ‘map’ was no more than a hand-drawn bunch of squiggles with two main lines intersecting another at different points and traveling in different directions with an X near the farthest left line. It then had an inset of a simple maze, twisting to another X.

  “Well,” Rick said after a brief study, “that makes perfect sense!”

  “Really?” Alex excitedly asked.

  “No,” he admitted, squishing her hopes.

  “So like, uh, what do we do now?” Kaylie sighed.

  “I know a treasure hunter who works with USGS; he’s had a
lot of success decoding treasure maps,” offered Abby.

  “I should have guessed,” snickered Rick, “You know someone who does everything, don’t you?”

  “It comes with the job.”

  He rolled his eyes, motioned to the computer, “Lead us to your King Arthur.”

  Abby hopped in Rick’s chair as he stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. The girls gathered on both sides. She punched in a new name, ‘ICKU,’ and saw he was online. She quickly typed a message, “Rob, got a map for you — it’s algebra, your favorite!” She then asked Rick to take a picture to send Rob.

  Rick wasted no time getting the camera and snapping a few pictures, trying to get a shot without the writing, now more deeply concerned with anyone knowing what they may have found.

  “What’s ICKU stand for?” Kaylie asked curiously.

  “What do you mean about algebra?” Christy added, interested in math.

  “Well, ICKU stands for ‘I seek AU.’ AU is gold.”

  The girls giggled at the acronym.

  “Algebra is just a joking way treasure hunters refer to maps where they have to ‘find X’.”

  “Oh!” Christy said, amused.

  Rob finally answered just as Rick came back, satisfied with a picture to send, which he quickly loaded for her.

  “What? Found my map to the Holy Grail at last?”

  “Indiana Jones found that already,” she replied. “But this may still intrigue you. Sending…”

  “Got it… printing it out...”

  She gave him a brief rundown, including where they found the map and Rick asked her to add that a coin from 1755 was with it.

  “What is this? Someone draw it with a crayon?” Rob finally asked.

  “What’s the matter, Rob, intimidated?” Abby challenged.

  “I’ve found treasures buried under a hundred feet of volcanic rock on the ocean floor with only a description from a nearly blind and drunk monk about an island passed two days prior to the sinking of the ship that held it. This is a piece of cake!” he boasted.

  “I’ll leave the line open for ya.”

  “Who’s paying the bill on this one?”

  “Um... Rick’s daughter found this one, we don’t know what it’s for.”

  “Figures...” he harrumphed.

  “Rob, the coin is gold — Spanish, I think — 250 years old. Do you think it has possibilities?”

  He didn’t respond for a few seconds, then “What condition is that coin in?”

  “Looks brand new. We have reason to believe it was sealed up the entire 250 years. Why?”

  “That, alone, would pay more than five times what I would normally ask for my services… hint hint.”

  “You looked it up, eh? Well, we’ll consider it,” Abby wrote.

  “So I don’t get paid otherwise?”

  “You know I’ll find a way, Rob. In fact, if you find this one, I’m almost positive Rick will part with that coin real quick.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me, Abby,” Rob accused.

  “And that alone should drive you, right?” Abby came back quickly.

  She was right. Rob loved a challenge and intrigue doubled the fun. “You know me too well. Now I won’t sleep tonight until I find it. Thanks a lot!”

  “That’s what friends are for…”

  “Tell Rick not to get his greasy fingerprints on my coin. Seal it back up for me please. Thanks,” Rob replied confidently.

  “Thanks, Rob!” Abby answered.

  “Thank me at 4:00 AM when I wake you up.”

  “You would do that? Here, here’s Rick’s number…” she gave him the number and told him to quit wasting time. He left to start his search, promising to keep them up to date through messages, and promised he’d call if he found it.

  Chapter 8 — Don’t Look Back... in TIME!

  “Well, girls, let’s go watch these movies,” Rick suggested to the gathered crowd.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Alex said, tapping the chronicler, “Let’s watch these movies!”

  Everyone was more than excited about that idea, so Rick easily caved in, “Sure, let’s go to the couch.” He led the parade to the gigantic couch and they all settled in around Alex.

  Alex popped up the menu again on the strange device and quickly selected playback, which caused a list to pop up on the clear display. She immediately selected the first entry: Jan 7, 5565 18:55.

  First, a nose appeared, and then backed off to reveal a man of about 25 years. He was slim, but soft-jawed, and had thick, wiry brown hair parted on the left side and well-trimmed above the ears. He possessed small, almost squinting eyes compared to his bushy brown eyebrows. He spoke through a small mouth topped by a thin moustache that extended half an inch over each side of his upper lip.

  “Dr. Jonathan Taylor here. Testing, one, two. Yes, we have a success,” he cried jubilantly. “This is it, the first test of the Universal Chronicler. With these necklaces,” he held up three necklaces, the fourth was around his neck, “we will be able to record all that occurs within the displacement machine.”

  He took a small, proud look at something out of sight, then continued, “Now that I’m reasonably certain the system works, we will schedule our first trip. Within the next couple days—”

  Alex adjusted the display, zooming out and rotating around the room. All eyes were glued to the images. There was literally nothing within view that appeared normal to them except the human and a cup on the table. By looking around, they could also see the man was not very big, judging him to be about 5’8”, but surprisingly sturdily built — totally incongruent to his nerd-like facial features. He was dressed in what looked to be the consistency of aluminum foil, but obviously not stiff or metallic. Or was it? He seemed completely comfortable in the outfit. Anna ran her fingers over the soft silk-like metal of the necklaces and thought it might be the same material. In the corner, there was a podium-like console which had an unbelievable 3D display of a brontosaurus bathing in a small lake.

  “Amazing,” said Abby in awe, followed by similar comments by all.

  “—this concludes our test of the Universal Chronicler,” the man ended and the menu appeared.

  Alex flipped through the next few entries, perhaps a couple pages of them, before starting to see other dates. She stopped at one that brought several gasps: October 28, 75,252 12:01.

  “Holy cow — 75,252!” Christy exclaimed.

  Alex quickly chose it from the menu.

  “Just as we expected,” murmured Dr. Taylor as a view of wasteland filled the screen. There were barely any shapes visible in the rust colored dust. “This is the precise location of the Earth Union Science Facilities of New Paris, built exactly thirty thousand years ago. As you can see, this entire city is gone. Forty-five million people lived in this city in buildings that stretched up to three thousand meters high. Now it’s flat,” he said sadly.

  “My next mission is to find out precisely how and when it happened.”

  “What do you think, Daddy?” Jessie asked somberly.

  “I don’t know what to think,” he shook his head.

  The video continued for a few minutes as the doctor collected soil samples.

  The menu reappeared. “I don’t think I can handle any more of this today,” Kaylie said as a tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

  “I think reality has just changed for all of us,” Abby said calmly, trying to comfort her.

  “Go to the last entry, Alex, then we’re turning this off and watching a movie,” Rick instructed.

  Alex began flipping through dozens of pages per second, taking more than a minute before noticing the scroll bar that would take her to the bottom with a simple movement. She found the last entry, March 21, 1756 20:45. She hit play.

  At first, the Chronicler was in view. Dr. Taylor had evidently just selected to record and shut down the display. Alex adjusted the view to look at him from the front as he breathed very heavily. He placed the Chronicl
er on the folded out box, on the bottom square, and slowly traced the swirl that caused it to revert back to a cube.

  “This could be my final hour,” he whispered dramatically. “I was planning on sneaking into the cave tonight — it’s been eleven, no twelve days. I thought he would give up by now, but he’s mad!” He let out an obviously painful cough as he got up. Now it became evident to the viewers what caused his distress: a bullet hole in his side. Alex deftly spun the view around to see a matching exit hole on his back, then returned it to his front again.

  He now clutched the cube tightly under his arm and started to walk down a path, continuing to whisper, “He was lying in wait for me, but I managed to knock him down with a blow to the head with this—” he held up the cube, tapping it. “He wanted it bad enough, so he got it… but not before the blast of his pistol got me. I should have checked but wasn’t thinking. I have to try to reach Helen’s now, I have no choice; I won’t survive out here like this.” He suddenly reacted to a noise, turning to check it out. His eyes widened and he began to run as fast as he could. Faint sounds of beating hooves began to invade the sound of his breath and the crunch of twigs and leaves. Alex tried to locate the source of the sound, but could not. Taylor then darted off the path and through the woods.

  “Not... gonna… make… it,” he panted.

  He ducked behind a tree just as Alex focused on a horse and rider in the distance. He looked scary and sounded even scarier. “I know you’re out there, Taylor! I know I winged you, too. Just give me the box and we’ll go get ya patched up!” he bellowed as the doctor stood frozen until the figure took off in the opposite direction.

  “Thank God he’s as bad at tracking as he is at physics,” Taylor muttered painfully. “And thank God for the trees, or the moonlight would have given me away.”

  Resignedly, he began reciting instructions as if by rote, “Dr. Jonathan Taylor, Earth Union Science Administration. If you should find this, you should destroy it immediately—” Then something seemed to have occurred to him. He paused, and then continued through the woods, noticeably weaker. “OK,” he continued, grunting out most of the words, “nothing can destroy it in this age, probably not for another fourteen hundred years or more, so I guess I’m just going to pray that if it is discovered before then, it is not misused…” He put his hand on the necklace, “This is one of four omni-directional cameras that interface with the machine,” he laid the cube on the ground and traced the spiral on top, waiting for it to finish unfolding. Once opened, you could see the other three necklaces, the stone and the chronicler. He hefted the stone, “This is the time stone; it powers the machine.” He stopped momentarily to catch his breath; it seemed incredibly difficult to speak each word. “This,” he laid a single finger on the chronicler, “is the Universal Chronicler. It records all four cameras automatically whenever you return from a trip in the machine, or manually, like now, until you remove the necklace or manually stop it. To end a trip, simply hold it in your hand and say ‘return.’ These instructions are all written...”