by Michael Dodd
“What danger is that, Xylon,” Jack Wooten asked.
“World War III, Mr. President, but I cannot go into it further at this time. I assure you, a month after your surgery you will have all the answers you need, but for now, you must trust me.”
“Very well, Xylon, what do you want me to do?”
‡
2640
Life in the 27th century was certainly interesting. Cathy had been there for over six months, learning all she could about the intricacies and the simplicities of their society. While she was anxious to leave quickly, Darvo and Seiko reminded her that she could travel back to any time in the space-time continuum. When she decided to go, she could appear at any place and any time she wished. She had all the time in the world…literally.
Apparently, all human beings in this timeline lived underground. The outside, as they called above ground, was left for the animals and the birds. If you wanted to go to the surface of the planet to watch the sunset, or to observe a herd of bison running in unison, you would simply teleport there, instantaneously. It is the same technology that allows for time travel, except in this case, the dimensional shift is not in time, but space. This eliminates the need for mobile land cruisers and air or space vehicles. The concept of roads is as passé as telephone poles or airports. People do not congregate in cities, per se; they live anywhere on the globe they wish, in spacious, atmosphere-controlled underground palaces with the ability to travel to any point in space or time in a millisecond.
Cathy had come, quite by accident, to the year 2640. It took her some time to figure out why she had traveled so far into the future, when her desire was to travel into the past. One night, she remembered something Gerald had said, moments before she transported away from 2140. He said she couldn’t be sure when or where she’d end up. “You could end up 500 years into the future for all we know,” he’d said, just moments before she left. It is now obvious that she had taken that warning to heart and allowed it to be the overriding impression at the moment she transported. Thanks again, Gerald.
Considering the trouble that had been caused by illmeaning, or even well-meaning time travelers, Cathy was a bit taken aback when Darvo mentioned that his 16 year old son, Cappo, would have his time-travel privileges revoked for six months. It struck her as odd that a people so sophisticated could consider traveling through time, with the obvious dangers to the space-time continuum, so cavalierly. Then, she found out the reason why.
Apparently, by the year 2525, time travel was perfected. From that time, people could travel backwards through time with no concerns for changes in future events. A new device simply returned the timeline to its previous state once the time traveler had returned. If there was an accident and the time traveler was killed, the timeline returned to its optimal state and the “killed” time traveler was returned in good health to his or her native timeline.
This allowed anyone to travel through time for vacations, historical study or “just to see what would happen…if”. There was also a select body of elders who monitored the timeline, observing not only the one currently existing, but each and every anomaly and timeline change. If it was determined that a change was for the better, the elders might allow the change to remain. However, their oversight protected all lifeforms that followed from being erased from existence, eliminating the possibility that a history teacher’s whim or the nonsensical musings of a teenage girl could threaten the survival of other living beings.
Everyone on the planet was issued, what they called, a Tempron. It was a small device—about the size of an ancient credit card—that allowed one to travel from place to place or to any point in the space-time continuum. It had no moving pieces and needed only the command of the person holding it to function. The only caveat being, one could only use the Tempron that was given to them by the elders. It corresponded to the user’s DNA and allowed them to be tracked for safety purposes. Since its implementation, some 120 earlier, no one had ever lost their lives in a space-time jump.
In the period Cathy had spent here in this time frame, she had almost become a member of the family. She found Darvo to be an absolute scream. He always seemed to have something funny to say about everything. It really surprised her that people so far in the future and so technically advanced would still retain the kind of humor one might see on a situation comedy of the twenty-first century.
As for Seiko, she was just about the sweetest woman Cathy had ever met. She was genuinely concerned with everyone’s welfare but her own. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue, particularly where her husband and children were concerned. None of them ever disrespected their wife or mother.
Cappo was a typical teenage boy. Other teenagers from around the world would pop in and out: some from other time periods. He was a bit of a tool, Cathy thought, but aren’t all 16 year old boys?
The younger child was called, Seena. She was 12 years old and just beginning to realize that boys weren’t yucky, as she put it. (Some things are timeless) She liked to dress up like a woman, while at the same time, she played with dolls. She had not yet been issued a Tempron. They were issued at the age of 15, after an extensive course in historical conservation, astrophysical configuration and quantum mathematics. Cathy had become almost a second mother to Seena. She even helped her with her homework, though much of it was beyond her.
Once Cathy had finished the required courses, she was issued her very own Tempron. She could now travel anywhere and anytime she wished. Though she considered the mid-twentysecond century her natural “home time” as Darvo called it, she would never again be in the bondage of linear time.
While Cathy loved the time spent with her new family, she felt a growing need to return to her home time and mend a few broken fences. On the morning she had decided would be her last, at least for now, Darvo, Seiko, Cappo and Seena presented her with a going away gift—of course, they didn’t think of it in the same way she did. To them, her return could be five minutes after she left, since she could be gone thirty years and return to the exact same timeline she’d left. It was the gift that kept on giving.
“Cathy, we have come to love you like a member of our own family,” Seiko explained with tears in her eyes. “Darvo and I couldn’t love you any more if you were our own sister. The kids love you and Sheena is positively beside herself that you are leaving, even though she knows you promised to return for her 15th birthday and take a quantum trip with her.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cathy said, weeping as well.
Then, Sheena and Cappo said goodbye and left for school and parts unknown, respectively. Darvo and Seiko ate breakfast with Cathy and prepared to send her on her way, but before she left, they wished to give her a gift.
Seiko reached into her pocket and withdrew a small box, wrapped in beautiful paper with a bow on top. She placed it in front of Cathy. “Cathy,” she said, smiling from ear to ear, “In all the time you’ve been here, you’ve never once ask me how old I was.”
Cathy seemed a bit shy about the statement. “Well…I guess I figured that wasn’t any of my business. In my time, women are very touchy about their age.”
“If you had to guess; what would you guess my age to be? It is okay, Cathy, you won’t insult me.”
“Well,” Cathy wasn’t sure how to answer, so she was as honest as she could be. “I suppose I’d say…45 years old.” She cringed as she said it, hoping she wasn’t
overestimating her age.
Seiko laughed but not with as much gusto as Darvo. “Cathy,” Darvo said loudly, “I think you just made a friend for life!” He continued chuckling.
Cathy looked back a Seiko. She was smiling with that same sweet smile she always had. “I’m 320 years old, Cathy,” she said.
Cathy would normally have laughed, assuming she was joking, but the look on her face and Darvo’s continued giggling caused her to believe what she was told. “320 years old?” Cathy parroted, “How can that be?”
Seiko pushed th
e small box closer to Cathy and said, “Open it.”
Cathy looked down at the pretty box, unsure what it could possibly have to do with the current subject of conversation, and picked it up. She took off the bow and tore the wrapping paper until she was faced with a small cardboard box with a lid. She lifted off the lid and looked into the box. What she saw looked to be another Tempron.
She lifted the thin device out of the box and looked at Seiko for clarification. “What is it?” she asked, “Another Tempron?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Seiko said. “You see,” she began, “In the time in which we live, matter and energy are as interchangeable as a pair of socks. This device,” she continued, gesturing toward the small credit card sized device in Cathy’s hand, “allows, not only the body to go from place to place and time to time, it allows the body itself to go from young to old and old to young. With that device, you can, at any time, turn your physical body into a younger version of yourself, or, if you wish, an older version of yourself. In essence, it is the fountain of youth.”
Cathy was thunderstruck! “Are you saying that with this, I could live as long as you?”
Again, Seiko smiled and said, “No, I’m saying that with that device, you can live forever.”
Cathy feinted again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
2067
Kenneth Graham found that his job might be easier than he’d expected. Since he was mega-rich in 2067 and he looked pretty much the same…and, since he still had the same bank card he used in 2070, accessing his millions was no problem at all. Of course, the Kenneth Graham who lived in this time might, at some point, notice the large withdrawals coming from his account, but likely not until after the deed was done. He had no problem leaving is “old” self with a small mystery.
The first thing he did was to call in some old favors. As a man of some means, he carried a great amount of clout in a number of different professional communities, mostly because of his “generous” philanthropic outlays to various cultural, social, political and health related organizations.
As for the political, he had long been a supporter of the party that opposed President Wooten and his “peacenik” propaganda. He’d always felt that the President was “giving away the store” with his additions of Canada and Mexico into the United States, as well as his continual attempts at peace negotiations with country’s and blocs that Kenneth considered communist or totalitarian. This support for the opposition’s party and candidates gave Kenneth a great deal of influence, as well as the “ear” of those that might wish to assist him in eliminating the one man who stood in the way of their dreams of national power.
In addition, the recent political scuttlebutt suggested that the President might wish to break with tradition—and overturn the 22nd amendment—by running for a third term as President. No one seemed to be sure why the aging politician would wish to do such a thing. Some conspiracy theorists suggested that the President had been having an ongoing dialogue with an alien being who was trying to influence world affairs for some unnamed nefarious purpose. Of course, Kenneth knew that the “alien being” was, in fact, a man from the future.
This non-partisan Washington gossip had caught the ear of the man who had always planned to succeed President Wooten: Vice-President Joseph Coplin. At sixty-seven years of age, the idea of waiting around for another eight years to succeed his boss was problematic at best.
(It was President Wooten’s successor, Joseph Coplin that had so badly mis-steered the ship of state in Xylon’s timeline that World War III was the result)
Kenneth Graham used his money and influence to pray on the fears of all these political nabobs in order to get the assistance he wanted. Of course, in order to protect his good name for the future, Kenneth managed to work through mediaries which would allow him to have plausible deniability in the event of an investigation, should his plans go south.
These political allies would see to it that the President’s by-pass operation was scheduled for July 12 and that many of the lab, radiology and pathology technologists were “preselected” to be working the day of the President’s operation. In addition, the President’s Cardiologist: Dr. Alfred Gustafson would meet with a slight “accident”, preventing him from performing the operation. This would allow Dr. Alan Beamon: Dr. Gustafson’s protégé, to perform the procedure in his stead. (Ironically, this proved to have been a moot point, as Dr. Gustafson was leaving for vacation in Europe and would be gone for a month. So much the better.)
On the morning of July 12, President Wooten finished up some early morning paperwork in the Oval Office in preparation for being “laid up” for a few days. After giving VicePresident Coplin a “pep talk” before leaving for the hospital, the President’s wife, Helen gathered him up and hustled him to the presidential limousine for the trip to Walter Reed. When the President finally left, Joseph Coplin took a seat behind the President’s desk and smiled, knowing that in only a few short hours, he would be occupying this office.
The procedure had been publicized extensively leading up to July 12; however, since it was considered a fairly routine operation, the American public did not consider it to be particularly newsworthy. Nevertheless, the obligatory press coverage of his departure from the White House and the presidential couple’s boarding of Marine One (the presidential helicopter) for the trip to Walter Reed were televised.
Ten minutes later, with virtually no fanfare, Marine One arrived at Walter Reed. The press would reacquire their target once the operation was announced to have been completed. The press would take a short break from covering the President while the President’s enemies would prepare themselves for the “devastating” news of the President’s demise.
It didn’t take long for the White House press corps to be alerted that something was very wrong at Walter Reed Medical Center. There were scattered and confusing reports generating from various named and unnamed sources that the President was dead. Other reports claimed that the President was still in surgery following a “major” complication. Other, unsubstantiated reports claimed that the President never showed up at the hospital in the first place. Needless to say, the 24 hours news cycle was turned onto its head as reporters tried to sort out the conflicting stories and get some kind of statement from the White House.
The Vice-President, who had mentally rearranged the furniture in the Oval Office three times that morning, stated that they had no new information and that the press would know, “when they knew”; of course, in his mind, he already did. The President was dead and the “new” President…Him…would be more than happy to answer any questions they might have about the “national tragedy” that had just befallen the nation. In the meantime, he would stay in his office on the grounds of the United States Naval Observatory and wait for word from the secret service. After all, he didn’t want to look too anxious to take over.
His home in northwestern Washington D.C., formally known as Number One Observatory Circle, was built in 1893 and has been the residences and offices of the VicePresident and staff since Walter Mondale moved in during the Jimmy Carter years. Joseph Coplin had always been fairly comfortable in and around the grounds, but he longed for the “big” chair and the historic importance his life would take once he occupied it. He was actually quite fond of President Wooten; but, ambition knows no loyalty and politics creates strange bedfellows.
After grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge, the vicepresident plopped down at his desk and kept his eye peeled on CNN, expecting to hear some “news” in no time. Suddenly, right on cue, Saul Bernard, CNN’s most revered moderator came on screen, “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, “We are getting some very interesting reports from Walter Reed Memorial Hospital, where the President is said to have been admitted this morning for by-pass surgery. According to the reports we are getting, the President never showed up for the operation, leaving the White House Press Corp scurrying for answers as to where is the President’s current location.”
; The Vice-President sat up straight in his chair, knocking his beer on the floor in the process. “What the hell?” he yelled. “What the hell’s going on?” Moments later, his questioned was answered. As he stared agape at the television screen, Saul added an addendum to his previous statement. The rather jovial grin on his face gave Joseph Coplin a sinking feeling in his gut. “Well, ladies and gentleman,” he said, a slight snicker overlaying his words, “Apparently the President has pulled a fast one. Rather than Walter Reed, the President seems to have been admitted to Georgetown University Hospital for his bypass operation. Whether this was some kind of foul-up between the White House Press Corp and the White House’s information offices is unclear at this point; however, we can confirm to you that the President has undergone a successful four-way bypass operation at Georgetown University Hospital and that the President is resting comfortably at this time. How the mix up occurred is anyone’s guess; but, the important thing is that President Wooten is fine and his surgery has apparently been an unqualified success.”
The Vice-President was on the phone with a myriad of people over the next few minutes, all of whom were as confused and frightened as was he. Did the President simply decide to have his surgery at another location and by another doctor, or did he find out about their plot to kill him and then make the switch? Either way, there were a great number of people who knew the plot and the plotters, leaving him and the other conspirators to dangle on the end of a line that could easily snap.
At Georgetown University Hospital, the President was just coming out from under anesthesia. He looked around and tried to gather his bearings. Where am I? Oh, yes, I’ve just had surgery. His eyes began to focus a little better and he noticed Helen standing over him with a big smile. “Well, it’s about time,” she said upon seeing his eyes flutter open, “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up and stop lying around here like a malingerer. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve put me through?”