Bump Time Origin

by Doug J. Cooper

  It was her turn, and as she pulled up to the red light, she clenched her teeth, held the steering wheel in a death grip, and mashed her foot on the gas pedal. The car roared through the red light and carried Lilah in a dash down the track.

  Her heart pounded as the engine shrieked and the car shook. The front stretch took longer than she had anticipated, and then she reached the north curve.

  The track was shaped in an oval, with a front and back straightaway and a looping curve on the south end to connect them. The curve on the north side of the track was different, though. It made a hairpin turn into the infield between the straightaways, wove back and forth through a series of bends, and then fed out to the back stretch to complete the loop.

  By the time she’d zigzagged through the north curves and onto the back straightaway, she was less tentative in the car and even felt some confidence. Reaching the south curve, she followed the loop around as she gauged the cars ahead.

  Halfway around the curve, a white car flashed past her. Justus.

  Now ahead, he shifted over in front of her car, waved, and then accelerated. Her forehead scrunched in concentration, and she struggled to keep pace, the roar of his engine combined with vibrations from hers making the effort all the more thrilling.

  He signaled with his hand, pointing down at himself and then pointing right. He pointed back at her and then pointed left. An instant later his car faked a small swerve left, then dove to the right side of the track.

  She kept going straight, not sure if she should participate or ignore him. He pulled back in front, repeated the gestures, and this time, when his car swerved to the right side of the track, she accelerated hard and rode out wide to the left.

  He pulled in front again and gave her a thumbs-up as they dove into the north turns. The bends took all her concentration, but he drove with one hand so he could signal for her to swerve left. She did her best to respond as instructed, but had a scare when the wheels of her car seemed to skid.

  The brothers slowed as agreed when they approached the south turn, allowing Justus and Lilah to catch up to the pack. She stayed on Justus’s tail as they entered the front stretch, and the race began.

  The vibrations of the car, scream of the engine, and smell of exhaust in the wind rushing past her all had Lilah in an excited panic. So when Justus raised his hand to signal, she let out a whimper.

  His signal indicated that he would swerve left and she should accelerate to the right. They were sprinting down the straightaway, so if ever she was going to give it a go, now was the time.

  When Justus made a fake move to the right, she saw Diesel swerve right to block him. The instant Diesel committed to the block, Justus swung left and accelerated around him.

  Realizing he’d been duped, Diesel swerved hard toward Justus in a vain attempt to block him a second time. This move opened up a broad, inviting lane for Lilah. Mashing the gas pedal, she breezed past Diesel and pulled in behind Justus.

  When she’d successfully executed the high-speed racing maneuver, something she hadn’t even known existed an hour ago, she squealed in delight and slapped the steering wheel to punctuate her joy. Then she reached the north curve and its winding turns, and her focus returned to driving.

  Halfway through the zigs and zags, Justus signaled that they both go left, she assumed to pass Twenty-Six. Already stressed at keeping the car under control, she didn’t feel she could execute extra maneuvers until they were back on straight track. She also couldn’t imagine how they both could pass Twenty-Six on the same side.

  Justus faked right. As if following a script, Twenty-Six swerved to interfere, and Justus passed him on the inside as they took the next turn. She couldn’t see the opportunity Justus had promised and, feeling tenuous in her control of the car, chose to hang back. As she made that decision, the track curved back and forth. Twenty-Six, out of position from his attempt to block Justus, hit the curves wide. Lilah watched her left-hand lane open and then close before she could act.

  Still, she felt exhilarated by her earlier success. If she could just stay ahead of Diesel, who now rode on her butt and fought to regain his position, she’d finish the race feeling like a winner.

  They reached the backstretch, and as they zoomed down it, Justus pulled aside, let Twenty-Six pass him by, and pulled back in front of Lilah.

  “You came back for me!” she shouted into the wind. Moved by his kindness, she committed to getting the next maneuver right.

  She pulled up tight on Justus as he lined up behind Twenty-Six. As they looped around the south curve, he signaled her the plan. When they entered the front straightaway, he executed.

  Twenty-Six reacted to Justus, swerving and opening the lane for Lilah. She moved to follow the script, but hadn’t been paying attention to the action behind her. Diesel had swung around to block her and proceeded to steal her opening himself.

  When they entered the north curve, Justus was ahead of their group and chasing the other brothers, followed by Diesel, then Twenty-Six, with Lilah in the rear. She did her best to stay close to the group for the rest of the competition, and didn’t see Justus again until the race ended and she pulled into pit row. Her plan was to thank him, but as she climbed out of her car, she found him standing with the brothers.

  And they were all being reprimanded loudly by an enraged Otto, who was so angry spit flew from his mouth. “Your behavior is outrageous. No group has ever committed so many dangerous violations.” He pointed at the parking lot. “You are all banned for life. Please leave, now.”

  The embarrassment of being thrown out of the facility put a momentary damper on the group’s fun.

  “Who won the race?” Lilah asked as they drove home.

  “Justus,” said Twenty-Nine, “and by a comfortable margin.”

  She turned in her seat to look back. “Did you see that his racing gear has a McGowan Driving emblem on it?”

  “Who’s McGowan?” asked Diesel.

  “It’s his last name. Justus McGowan.” She told them how he’d used hand signals to help her perform a passing maneuver.

  “It was a slick move,” said Diesel. “You both had me fooled.”

  “I’m feeling less bad about coming in second,” said Twenty-Nine.

  Lilah used her phone to search the web for McGowan Driving and read aloud what she found. “There are three McGowan Driving Schools down the East Coast. Their most popular training course is a week-long class called Vehicle Pursuit and Evasion. The website says they train cops, armored car drivers, stuntmen, security guards, and the general public.” She looked back at Twenty-Eight and Twenty-Nine. “Hot damn. Our Justus has skills.”

  They pulled into Diesel’s parking spot and waited while Justus parked in an open space down the street. As the group jockeyed for position through the front door, Lilah invited Justus up to Diesel’s place for a beer and the award ceremony.

  In the lobby, they found Bunny descending the stairs from Diesel’s apartment. Wearing loose denim overalls that hid the curves of her body, she still looked dazzling, Lilah thought. She smirked as the brothers greeted Bunny with enthusiasm, inviting her up for a beer.

  Bunny looked at Lilah. “Are you claiming all of them or just him?” She gestured at Diesel.

  Lilah turned red when everyone looked to hear the answer. She didn’t want to publicly claim any of them, even though she felt possessive of them all. “Come join us.”

  Bunny smiled at the group and started up to the apartment. Every Diesel studied her bottom as she ascended the stairs, then they invited Lilah to go next. “Ladies first.”

  She chastened them with a glare, and they bowed their heads and toed the ground. It wasn’t that she thought her butt wouldn’t pass muster. Their near-worship of her gave her that confidence. It just wasn’t in her nature to be sexual entertainment for the brothers, now or in the future.

  In the apartment, they oohed and aahed at Bunny’s efforts. She’d cleaned up the lunch mess and helped Every Deli set up the next f
east—roast beef with the works. Lilah’s mouth watered from the savory smells.

  Diesel passed out beers and, when everyone had one in hand, Lilah awarded Justus his prize. After some good-natured cheers and jeers, they drank to his success.

  Lilah told the group how Justus had coached her through a passing maneuver during the race, then she asked him about McGowan Driving.

  “My brother and I started a driving school together years ago. We offered a week-long course on professional driving skills and it was a hit. We probably ran the course eight times that first year. Business was good, but as my financial investigations started to consume more time, we hired an outside instructor to replace me. My brother took over after that, and he’s been growing the business ever since.”

  “Thanks again for helping me have so much fun,” said Lilah. “It’s too bad we’ve been banned.”

  “Don’t worry. The track owner was one of our driving instructors from years ago. I’ll talk to him after Otto cools down. Steve’s a good guy. He’ll let us return.”

  The group went quiet for a moment, and then Twenty-Six said, “Hey, Bunny, Twenty-Seven and I are going to fix a plate and eat on the balcony. Care to join us?”

  Bunny looked at Lilah, who approved with a nod so slight it was more like a twitch. “I thought you’d never ask. The food smells heavenly.”

  As they filled their plates, Diesel leaned over to Lilah. “Where is there a balcony?”

  “You have a nice one off the back of your bedroom,” said Twenty-Eight. “Maybe if you slept in your own bed every once in a while, you’d know things like that.” The zinger, delivered as outrageous humor, earned a laugh from the brothers.

  Carrying a plate in one hand and a fresh beer in the other, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, and Bunny climbed the steps to the bedroom. Lilah flashed on thoughts of Diesel’s big bed and oversized tub, considered calling a warning to behave, but decided to let it go.

  When they were gone, Diesel motioned to the food. “Justus, I promised you a talk after I conferred with my brothers. If you join us for dinner, we can do that now.”

  The meal reminded Lilah of her family’s holiday feasts when she was growing up. The men loaded their plates with rare roast beef, then moved down the countertop, sampling the sides and extras. Lilah skipped the meat but filled a plate with the salads and joined them at the table.

  For several minutes, all conversation ceased as they focused on eating, the frequent sighs of pleasure conveying their satisfaction.

  Lilah looked around the group and nodded. “Every Deli does a really good job.”

  The brothers went back for seconds and, after they were seated, Diesel began. “So, the question on the table is, what is going on here? How is it that I have duplicates who come and go without using any doors or windows. Is that about right?”

  “I didn’t ask,” said Justus. “But I admit I’m curious as hell.”

  “I will answer truthfully, but it may not be compelling or complete enough to satisfy you.”

  Diesel paused and Justus waited.

  “The T-box downstairs is able to open a corridor between me here, and copies of me in the future. Think of it like a lineup of parallel universes where the next universe over is one year older. The T-box lets us move from one universe to the next.” He gestured to the end of the table. “So Twenty-Nine here is a version of me in four years.”

  Lilah’s respect for Justus motivated her to offer a less-skewed version of her truth. “I want to add that my real story mostly matches what I told you. I’m in charge of the software that runs the T-box. I let you believe that it directly detects investment opportunities, and in a convoluted way it does, by transporting Diesels here from the future. Sorry for misleading you.”

  Justus nodded to Lilah and waited. Diesel filled the silence.

  “We know you don’t want to be involved in anything illegal or immoral, and maybe you’re wondering if we are a threat to the world.” Diesel shook his head. “We aren’t, and hopefully over time you’ll come to that same conclusion.”

  Contrary to Lilah’s prediction, Justus asked questions. “So after your meeting tonight, four of you jump into the box and go back to the future?”

  “That’s right,” said Diesel.

  Justus looked at Twenty-Nine. “Why don’t you bring a printout of the investment schedule? Your chanting is a horrible way to do business.”

  Twenty-Nine explained that the T-box transports Diesels and nothing else, and that anyone using the box who wasn’t a Diesel would die. Lilah’s mood darkened during that discussion.

  “I’m going to ask something that may seem hurtful to you, but it’s a legitimate question.” Justus didn’t wait for anyone to respond before continuing. “Why would you, David S. Lagerford, be chosen among everyone in the world to be the sole beneficiary of this unheard-of technology?”

  “Ouch,” said the brothers in unison.

  “The working theory,” said Twenty-Nine, “is that we invent the technology late in life and use it to better our own circumstances starting back here when we are twenty-five.”

  The clomping of feet down from the bedroom interrupted the conversation. “We have pies and ice cream for dessert,” called Bunny.

  “Pies plural?” asked Twenty-Six, following her down the steps.

  “Strawberry-rhubarb and blueberry-peach for pies. Vanilla for the ice cream.” Bunny opened the boxes on the kitchen countertop. “Who wants what?”

  They ate dessert and chatted amiably, then Justus gathered Bunny and his plastic trophy and left the group to their meeting.

  “I should get back,” said Twenty-Six after the door shut.

  “Let’s go around once and hear a quick report,” said Twenty-Nine. “I’ll start by reporting that all of our financials are on track. Everyone here is richer than the previous brothers at that age, so that’s good news.”

  “I’ll report that the cloud takeover project went well,” said Twenty-Eight. “Ciopova controls eight percent of the domestic computing cloud and three percent worldwide, which puts her a little ahead of previous years.”

  Lilah raised her eyebrows but held her tongue.

  “I’ve made progress on establishing a bump library,” said Twenty-Seven, “but it’s a ton of work, and there’s more to go.”

  Diesel straightened up. “What’s a bump library?”

  “If we are going to take a new approach to bumping for Lilah, we need to know what’s been tried and how effective it’s been. Fifty-Two has the most complete repository in his war room, and I’ve been trying to duplicate it in my timeline for our convenience. It’s a lot of trips and a lot of memorization, though, so it’s slow going.”

  After a pause, Twenty-Six spoke. “I’ll report that onboarding Twenty-Five is going well. I’ve also set him up with an archive system to track interactions with the Browns.”

  Everyone looked at Diesel for his report. His cheeks reddened as he said, “I’ve fallen in love with Lilah but have failed to turn her head, so I guess I’m the failure in the group.”

  “Be more optimistic.” Lilah surprised herself with the blurted statement. “It’s been only two weeks.”

  Diesel looked at her. “I’ve fallen in love with Lilah and have reason to be optimistic?”

  She bobbed her head in a way that combined a shake with a nod but didn’t speak, not wanting to stoke whatever it was she’d started.

  Twenty-Six checked the time again.

  “We haven’t discussed the Browns,” said Twenty-Nine, standing up to signal that the meeting was over. “That’s going to be one of the broad topics of discussion at the meeting next week. Let’s all give it some thought, and we’ll put our brief together first thing when we arrive.”

  They descended the steps as a group, with all remarking on the success of the event. Twenty-Seven suggested they take turns hosting a gathering every two or three months, and the idea generated excited chatter that continued to the basement.

  Twenty-Six
was the first in line at the T-box. As the others waited, Diesel asked Twenty-Seven, “I need to use the T-box whether I’m visiting your repository or Fifty-Two’s war room, so why bother duplicating it? Is it harder to go further up the line or something?”

  “Trips to the Fifties are weird. It’s hard to arrange a time to meet with those guys, the place is different enough when you get there that it’s disorienting, and they act more like a dad than a brother, which is creepy as hell.”

  Twenty-Nine joined them, and Diesel said, “Your working theory that we are the ones who invent the T-box resonates with me.”

  Twenty-Nine nodded. “It’s a new theory that’s catching on. We know that the Fifties as a group are working on a super-secret project. We used to think it had to do purely with Ciopova. Now we’re thinking maybe it’s about time travel, and somehow they use Ciopova to push the instructions on how to build the T-box down to this timeline.”

  23. Twenty-Five and three weeks

  Diesel climbed out of bed, whistling as he pulled on his clothes. Today was the day of the annual Big Meeting, and that meant today he would be traveling across time.

  Descending to the main level of his apartment, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a package of commercial pastries. He devoured one of the two pieces before reaching the apartment door.

  Seated in his cubicle in the basement, he ate the other pastry and used his phone to cruise the web. Twenty-Six was due to arrive soon to escort him on his first jump. Diesel’s foot wiggled in anticipation, reflecting his nervousness and excitement.

  Before his anxiety could fester, a light came on over on Lilah’s side of the connecting door. Moments later, she stepped through it carrying a plate in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other.

  She set the plate in front of him—scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast—fetched the coffee mug from his desk, and poured him a cup of steaming hot brew. She poured one for herself, pulled over a chair, and sat. “Eat before it gets cold.”