by Michael Dodd
It had never occurred to Xylon that he lived in a dystopian nightmare. He was aware that certain freedoms had been curtailed to some extent; but he’d always assumed it was for the best. Now that Mick brought it up, it had occurred to him, on more than one occasion, what the world might be like without Omni’s suffocating oversight. “Even if what you say is true,” Xylon said, “what could I possibly do to stop a global nuclear war? I’m lucky if I can get my girlfriend to agree with me on what to have for dinner.”
Mick chu ckled a bit at Xylon’s wit. Few where he came from would have even understood the concept. “One of the reasons I chose you, Xylon,” Mick said, “was your basic understanding of historical events and how they shaped the world you live in. Your position at Omni Image allows you to access information of which few of your contemporaries are privy. “Are you aware that World War One was triggered by the assassination of a single individual?”
“Yes,” Xylon said, “Archduke Ferdinand,” he added for clarity.
“Are you also aware, that had Adolph Hitler been accepted into the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts, World War Two would likely never have occurred?”
“So you’re saying,” Xylon mused, “that there is a simple way to stop World War III from having occurred?”
“I’m saying there is a simple way to change almost any historical event. The farther away from the event, the easier and simpler it is.”
“Why don’t you go back and stop the war?” Xylon said. “If you’ve already done it once, you would seem the logical choice to do it again.”
“That’s the problem, Xylon,” Mick said, “No one can use this means of time transport more than once. It will no longer work as a transportation device for me.”
“If that’s true,” Xylon asked, “then you cannot go back to the year 2180. You have to live out the rest of your life in this time period. Is that true?”
“Yes, Xylon,” he said, “It is true. That is the sacrifice each of us must make. However, it is a small price to pay for the good we are doing. Remember, had I not come from 2180, this planet would have been a virtual cloud of dust in just a few, short months.”
“You said, ‘the good we are doing.’ Does that mean there were others before you?”
“It does, indeed, Xylon,” Mick said, “The woman who gave the amulet to me had come from the year 2240. She returned to my time to prevent a form of microscopic machines, called Nanites, from infesting and then gaining control of the world.”
“Amulet?” Xylon asked, “What amulet?”
“That’s the means by which we travel back in time, Xylon,” Mick explained. He reached into a side pocket of his blue “jump suit” and pulled out a coin-like object and held it out for inspection. “Here,” he said, offering it to Xylon, “take a look.”
Xylon took the object from Mi ck’s hand. It was round, about 3 inches in diameter, golden in color and marked on either side with unfamiliar images. It was heavier than he expected; probably 35 grams or so, and looked very old.
“So, this is how you travel back and forth through time?” Xylon asked, flipping the amulet over and over for inspection.
“Not, back and forth,” Mick corrected him, “Only back, and for 60 years only. If you use it, you will return to exactly 60 years from the moment you left. If you left now, you would return to July 24, 2065, five years before the start of World War III. No one knows why the amulet works in this way; but it does.”
“How do you operate it?” Xylon asked, still studying its contours.
Mick reached over and took the amulet. He held it out for Xylon to see. “You see this side?” he said, “The side with larger, raised markings?”
Xylon nodded.
“You take your thumb and press in the center of that raised icon for five seconds. You will then quickly find yourself 60 years in the past, standing in the same spot as you are now.”
Mick flipped th e coin over. “Notice that this side’s markings are not raised; they are engraved. This side will allow you to travel back in time in the same way as the other side; however, your trip will be for a slightly lesser time span.”
“How long?” Xylon asked.
“60 seconds,” Mick said with a smile.
Xylon laughed. “60 seconds? What’s the point in that?”
“Well,” Mick said, “Whi“Well,” Mick said, “Whi second feature, I’ve been told it could come in handy.”
“So, after you use it, you can never use it again,” Xylon said, attempting to clarify the amulet’s use. “Once you go back 60 years, that side no longer functions for you; however, the 60 second function will still work.”
“That is correct, Xylon,” Mick said.
“And then, once you use it, you can’t use the 60-second function again, either. Right?”
“That’s right,” Mick nodded. “Then, once you’ve completed your mission, you can give it to a likely candidate and they can make use of it.”
“What if you get someone who wants to go back in time and change things for nefarious purposes?” Xylon asked, “Or just use his knowledge of the future to place himself in advantageous positions?”
Mick smiled again with reassurance. “That is why you want to screen the potential time traveler before you make contact with him or her. I’ve been watching you for over 4 years.”
Xylon had heard enough to ask a more personal question. “Mick,” he said, leaning toward him in a more intimate fashion, “I’ve never been told anything as fantastic in my life. I must say, you are a very interesting person and you make a compelling argument; however, I have to be honest. I’m still not sure I truly believe what you’re telling me.”
“I anticipated that,” Mick said, “which is why I’m prepared to prove it to you.”
“How can you do that?” Xylon asked.
“By going back in time, of course,” he said, holding the amulet up for Xylon to see. “Remember, I have not yet used the 60 second function.”
Xylon smiled wryly. “Well,” he said with a smirk, “What would going back 60 seconds in time show me?”
“It depends on how we do it,” Mick said as he stood, holding the amulet up. “Let’s just think about this logically. I am now standing in front of you, but 60 seconds ago I was seated beside you. Let’s just make note of my actions and position at the moment I activate the amulet; then, we’ll see what happens.”
“Okay,” Xylon said, finding this all amusing, “Show me.”
Mick asked, “Do you have a time recorder?”
“A what?” Xylon asked, confused.
“You know? Some way of telling the current time of day?”
“You mean a watch?”
“Oh,” Mick said, red-faced, “That’s right. You still call them that. Anyway, take a look at your watch and tell me when the second hand hits twelve. In the meantime, look at me and note exactly where and how I’m standing.”
Xylon looked up and answered, “Okay.” He then looked at his watch and waited until the sweep-second hand hit straight up. “Now.” he said.
Mick the n said, “Okay, Xylon, you can see where I am and what I’m doing. Now, keep looking at the watch and tell me when one minute has passed.” He then began walking away from Xylon’s position, ending up about 30 feet away.
Xylon looked back at his watch. It was about 15 seconds from one minute. He looked back up at Mick, unsure what was going to happen. When the second-hand hit twelve, he called out, “Now!”
Mick Jagger pressed his right thumb firmly against the engraved side of the amulet and waited five seconds. Suddenly, he was standing thirty feet from his current location, right in front of Xylon, in the same location he stood before Xylon first began his countdown.
When Xylon saw Mick disappear from the back side of the tree line, and then almost instantaneously appear in the exact spot he’d occupied when he first looked at his watch, he almost feinted.
“Now, do you believe me?” Mick said, an amused look on his face.
�
��Wow,” Xylon said, “It’s true.”
“So,” Mick asked, “Will you do it?”
Xylon hadn’t considered that Mick was on the level. The idea of traveling back in time on a one-way trip had not bothered him because he’d never really considered it. Now, the idea came crashing into his consciousness. “Wow,” he repeated, resting his forehead in his hand, “I don’t know, Mick. I’m gonna have to think about this.”
‡
2065 AD
The forty-ninth President of the United States was well into the first year of his second term in office. He had always enjoyed a healthy job approval rating and his reelection had never been in question. In fact, he was the first President to have swept all 51 states and was considered by Web Journalists—newspapers were extinct and television news had already been read its Last Rites— as the greatest statesman since Churchill.
In his first term, President Wooten negotiated the terms of the Jerusalem Pact: a treaty that guaranteed Islamic recognition to Israel and ended a seemingly intractable conflict that had simmered since Israel’s founding in 1948. After the 2050 dissolution of the Russian Federation, the United Nations—with billions of American dollars— purchased over three-quarters of its land mass and used it to quell certain global territorial disputes.
The Palestinians, for instance, were given almost 3 million square kilometers north of Kazakhstan on the condition that they relinquish all claims to Israeli lands, including Jerusalem. With the world’s lessening
dependence on crude oil—solar technologies had all but replaced their need—the Arab world didn’t make a fuss.
While there were many mediators and a plethora of dignitaries nudging one another aside for global recognition, it was generally accepted that President Wooten had been the tip of the spear. Since then, some two years prior, the President had become beloved throughout most of the world for his peacemaking abilities and his optimistic rhetoric.
Now that he was into his second term, world tensions were beginning to heat up again. The threat of global, Islamic terrorism had finally been squelched; but, a Southeast Asian alliance was now roiling the waters of international diplomacy. President Wooten, of course, was expected to calm the simmering pot.
China, having long ago annexed the southern lands of Thailand, Vietnam, Burma, Indonesia and Malaysia; as well as joining in an alliance with a united Korea and the Philippines, was now preparing to sign a military pact with India. While this, in and of itself, was not cause for alarm; the members of the Iran-Pakistan Pact were beginning to fear a move on the Persian Gulf. After all, India and Pakistan had been mortal enemies since the British partition separated them in 1947.
China’s Secretary General Xu Ling and Pakistan’s President Sharif had spent the previous week in a hotblooded game of virtual-nuclear ping-ping. Both had made threats toward the other and both seemed dead-set on digging in their heels against any foreign interposition. It was into this mess that the man christened, “the Great Conciliator” would have to tread.
“Barney,” the President said to his Chief of Staff, “Tell me again why I ran for reelection?”
Barney McCarthy had been a close advisor and friend of the President since he was a junior senator from Ohio. He knew all of his moods and could read him like a book. He was well aware that Johnny, as he called the President in private, used humor to mask his true feelings, particularly when his true feelings were rife with anxiety. “Sir,” he said, “You ran for reelection because the whole world demanded it.”
The President was seated behind the historic, Resolute desk—first given to President Rutherford B. Hayes by Queen Victoria in 1879 and made famous by President Kennedy’s son, John Jr. At six-five, he was an imposing figure. His curly, slightly-salty locks belied a man of his age. “Barney,” the President said with a sigh, “It’s like a game of whack-a-mole; every time you put out one fire, another crops up somewhere else. I really thought the world was beginning to mature a little bit.”
“Unfortunately,” Barney replied, “By the time anyone matures sufficiently to be of any use to the world, he dies off, leaving an immature replacement.” He saw the odd look on the President’s face and added, “Present company excluded.”
“Good recovery,” the President said, grinning. “ Hey, do you think either of these morons have considered what would actually happen if their conflict went nuclear? I mean, the orbital platforms alone should tell them they have no way of winning the war. The SDI systems we sold them will not protect them from orbitally-launched, weapons platforms. It’s completely illogical.”
Barney had been standing. He decided to take a seat. This could be a long conversation. “I don’t think the word, logical, has ever been used to describe two posturing world leaders, Mr. President;” he said, “however, since I’m sitting in front of the most successful negotiator in world history, I’m greatly encouraged.”
“Did Helen—the President’s wife— tell you to say that?” the President said in jest, “I told her to stop bribing the staff.”
There was no doubt in Barney’s mind that his old friend was greatly troubled by the recent world events. The more he worried, the funnier he became. “Well,” he said in reply, “I don’t think there’s a man alive who could have brought the Arabs and the Jews to an accord. Presidents had been at it for a century. Your words will carry a lot of weight.”
President Wooten rolled his eyes. “President Sharif is a reasonable man;” he said, “but, the Chinese Premier is a little more volatile. He’ll feel pressured by India not to give in. It’s amazing how century’s old animosities can be handed down from generation to generation. You’d think each new generation would grow less and less interested; but, it seems the opposite is true.”
“What do yo u say we invite Chairman Xu and President Sharif to Camp David?” Barney asked. “It worked for the Israelis.”
President Wooten looked at Barney with a skeptical expression. He thought it unlikely that lightening would strike twice in the same place.
Barney saw his uncertainty and responded, “ Come on, Johnny! Let’s invite the two men and their families to spend the whole weekend at Camp David. We’ll pull out all the stops to make them comfortable, and then, we’ll do everything we can to make them all feel important. Then, you can use the old Wooten charm, and we’re in like Flynn.”
The President didn’t change his expression. “Barney,” he said, “You would have made a fine salesman. You’ve got the Gift of Gab. No doubt, from kissin’ the Blarney Stone.”
“Thanks, Mr. President,” John’s closest ally said, “I’ve always wondered whether my mother chose to name me Barney, or if she just couldn’t spell Blarney.”
‡
2125
Xylon and Mick agreed to meet at the same spot in Jordon Park the following night. It went without saying that Xylon had much to ponder. In order to agree to travel back to 2065, he would be giving up the only life he’d ever known. That’s not to say he was overwhelmingly pleased by his life, it’s just that the idea of change was frightening to him.
Most importantly, of course, was the fact that he would have to leave Juno, never to see her again. He had grown quite fond of the woman and had considered using the Lword on more than one occasion. The idea of going to another era and living out the rest of his life was terrifying. He wouldn’t know the first thing about how to interact with the people of 2065. He wouldn’t know how to use their technology, if they had any, and he wouldn’t be trained in any useful occupation of the time. How was he supposed to live?
When he got home, he was obviously loathe to speak of any of this to Juno. Luckily, she assumed his silence was a result of Victoria’s prurience; however, she made it clear that she wished to be informed of how the meeting had gone.
He managed to get through the evening without having to spill the beans; but, he felt he owed it to Juno to give her a say in the matter. So, after dinner the next evening, he invited Juno to take a walk with him. “Hey,�
� he said, “I really enjoyed my walk yesterday. Why don’t you come with me tonight?”
The couple knew each other well enough so that simple gestures and facial expressions could communicate messages that were not intended for Victoria. Juno immediately understood that Xylon wished to explain the previous night’s meeting; so, she put on her shoes and followed him to the door.
Once they were far enough from prying electronic eyes and ears, Xylon stopped beside a tree and leveled with his lover. His meeting with Mick Jagger was not for another halfhour. He wasn’t sure if her reaction would determine his course of action; but, he knew he’d feel a lot better with her blessing.
Were it not such a profound moment in both their lives, Xylon would have considered Juno’s wide-eyed expression to be humorous; but, it was a profound moment in their lives. If he agreed to go, he would, in all likelihood, never see Juno again.
It took a full, five minutes for him to explain the nuances of his meeting with Mick Jagger and the staggering responsibility he was being asked to shoulder. The real surprise came with Juno’s lack of skepticism concerning his proposed traveling through time. She seemed to accept it as a matter of course.
In the end, he decided to take her with him to meet Mick Jagger. Perhaps she could think of something to ask him that he’d overlooked. Notwithstanding, he cared for her and wished for her to be a part of any monumental decision he would make, and this decision was definitely in the monumental category.
When the young couple broke into the clearing beyond the tree line, they could see Mick sitting on the bench, calmly waiting for Xylon to arrive. When he looked up and noticed Juno had accompanied him, Mick was noticeably startled; he had not supposed the need to explain the concept of time travel to a second person, particularly one who would likely be against the idea.
“Xylon,” Mick said as the couple approached, “I see you’ve brought Juno with you. I’m guessing this is either good news or bad news.” He smiled politely at Juno.