Author: barista

“No, that’s not it at all, Mr. Evans.  There is no such thing as travelling through time.  It is a bit of a misunderstanding in the public to be sure, but our company cannot, nor will it ever, send anyone back through time.”

I blinked a few times, “…Okay… Well, what exactly do you do then?”  I sat on the visitor’s side of a solid oak desk. The papers were stacked perfectly.  A pristine chrome-ish pen sat upright in its stand reflecting light from the desk lamp like a beacon.  There were no pictures frames.  Nothing out of order.  No clutter at all.  Just a stack of papers, the pen, and the desk light.

The rest of the room was just as polished.  Beige tile floor, no dust to be found even if I was looking on my hands and knees.  Bookshelves in perfect order along the walls on either side of the desk. A door behind me, and a blank wall in front of me.  The lighting was a warm yellow, which gave life to the otherwise sterile room.

Across the desk, sitting in the captain chair was the sales rep.  Broad shoulders, square jawline, and even a muscular neck. His suit pressed handsomely, and not a dimple or mole or freckle anywhere on his immaculate skin.  Maybe he was 50 years old judging by the gray peppered throughout his dark head of hair, but honestly, I had no idea. His smile was wide and toothy like a curious teenager.  And it never left his face.

Mr. Smith was pretty goddamn pleasant considering the mystery which surrounded all of this.

“I’m glad you asked, Dan.  Can I call you Dan?”

“Eh… Sure.”

“Well, you see, Timeline Unlimited is not a time travelling company.  We simply give people the opportunity to send their memories back, changing their personal timeline,” he shifted in his chair, “It’s not like the movies.  In the movies, you’ve got Van Damme jumping back and forth through time trying to save his wife by changing events in the past. But in real life, that kind of thing is impossible.  Pardon my French, but it’s bonafide bullshit.” (more…)

Much needed August rain spotted her dusty wind shield as Caroline pressed her pass to the identifier, and then, her ring finger print. Nodding to the guard, she drove the FEMA van through the gate to the restricted area. Around her neck, were nine badges, and her eye was the final key to the interior lock of the old missile silo.

Caroline’s parents, Sophie and Frank, molecular physics professors, had spent their lives developing their dream. Unknown to the University and the Board of Regents, their true work was hidden in the confines of a superfund site. And now, passing through the final locked door, she was going to fulfill their dying wish.

Lead Engineer, Jordan, her handsome fiancé, greeted her in a warm embrace, nuzzling her neck. She air kissed his cheek and took off her hard hat.

Her father’s handpicked team of grad students was assembled. The systems were set. Alone, in the private office her parents had once occupied, she took deep breaths to shake off her pre-travel nerves. With a touch of a button, hidden under the chair rail on the wall, the panels silently moved to display the panorama of the lab just beyond the office door.

Sophie had designed this office to spend as much private time with her beloved husband as possible, as Frank kept his micromanaging eye on everything.

They had both cautioned Caroline to keep this view a secret, but she had decided to reveal it to Jordan when she returned from her travel. After all, he was her father’s most favored protégé, and they would be married next month.

From the windows, she watched the team activate the systems for the maiden near journey. Sophie had always planned that Caroline would be the first. Frank, a life-long feminist, thought it was a funny idea – taking the trip before she got her MRS. Degree, a sign that he approved of her engagement with Jordan.

It was Sophie’s idea to use a new minivan – in a style that hadn’t changed much for the past five years so it wouldn’t stand out in the near past and could be considered a desired antique in the decades to come. (more…)