Stranger Times: Part 3

If he had a time machine, he would probably choose to meet the scientists before digging through trash.

But then, well. If he had a time machine.

Culta kept gagging at him.

“You stink like rust and dirt, just so you know. You’ll make a great first impression.”

“I hope to overpower the smell with charm.”

“What do you want with them anyway?”

“I’m going to ask them to let me join their super-secret science-club, so that I will finally have friends and no longer be so tragically misunderstood.”

“Oh, please. Tragically misunderstood dudes are always sexy and dangerous. You’re about as dangerous as cotton can–”

Something at the top of the hill distracted her. He followed her gaze.

“Dr. Beaker!” she called. “Long time no see!”

He wondered idly if everyone in this town knew each other. Sure looked like it. He saw this Dr. Beaker glance his way, and then back to Culta for explanation, which she rushed forward to provide.

If there’d been scientists ‘studying’ Appaloosa, nobody would go within a mile of them. At least, not without torches and pitchforks.

Maybe Strangetowners just weren’t the angry mob type.

“Sorry to bother you, Dr. Beaker, but my friend here wants to see you. Dad found him unconscious out in the desert, and he’s been acting all mysterious, and now he says he wants to talk to ‘scientists.’ Only after I had to watch him rummage through garbage for forty minutes, mind you.”

“Looks like aliens probed his brains out to me, and I figure you’d be the ones to see about that.”

Dr. Beaker sighed.

“You should know better than to make alien jokes, Culta. What if Dr. Curious heard you?”

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. Just, please, be more sensitive from now on.”

“As for you, sir –Dr. Curious has been expecting you.”

“Expecting me?”

“You’ll see.”

“Glabe, he’s here.”

He could only assume the woman by the terminal —Glabe— was ‘Dr. Curious.’ He was surprised; she couldn’t have been much older than him, and this wasn’t a student’s setup.

Actually it was a pretty damn impressive setup. Far more so than his shack back home.

At first it was like she didn’t hear him, she was so engrossed in her work. Dr. Beaker was clearing his throat for another try before she finally turned away from the screen.

Then she fixed her gaze on him, and he froze.

“So, Future Man, how’d you do it?”

“Future Man?”

He could feel Culta’s accusatory gaze boring into his back, but he was still frozen. He tried to communicate the situation with his eyes: not good. not good. no bueno.

She looked from Culta to him and back.

“Bjorn, why don’t you show Ms. Personality around the observatory? I’d like to speak with our guest in private.”

Dr. Beaker nodded, and led a whining Culta out of the room.

And they were alone.

He willed himself to thaw, to stop being so damn awkward, and focus on working out how she knew.

It was hard when she was looking at him like that.

She glanced him up and down, slowly…and spoke.

“Can I please, please, please take a sample off you?”

That —wasn’t what he expected.

At least it broke the ice.

“P…P-pardon?”

“It’s just we’ve never seen biological matter that’s passed through the timestream before! Not in any other direction than usual! How did you avoid total cell degradation? And maintain molecular integrity? I can’t even imagine what kind of power-source it would have taken to–”

“Whoa, wait, hold up! Wait. How do you know I’ve been through the timestream? How do you know about the timestream at all?! That technology should be decades beyond you…”

“You wanna see my whiteboard?”

“I’ve been keeping notes here since you arrived yesterday. I got to witness that arrival, in a sense. Our instruments went wild –from just the minor glimpse you gave us, we learned more about the timestream than theoretical physicists have worked out in decades– and suddenly stopped. That was the moment the timeline stabilized.

But I guess I haven’t really answered your question…”

“During the event, our sensors picked up, well…you. And the paradox stabilized. So what could have been a rare but natural event was now clearly the work of a time traveler.

Once we figured that out, we knew it was just a matter of time until you came to us. Although I will admit to…monitoring your progress somewhat.”

She shuffled and blushed before continuing:

“And before you ask how I knew you were a ‘future man,’ that’s just simple deduction. Someone from the past could hardly do all this.”

“And, well, I just want to say how honored Bjorn and I are that you chose this place and time. And us. I look forward to collaborating with you on studying the paradox, and learning whatever it is you want to teach us about the future–”

He cut her off.

“I’m really sorry, Doctor, but there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t actually want to collaborate with anyone. And I’m definitely not going to teach you about the future.”

“My travelling here was by accident. I’m not here to observe my own paradoxical self, I’m here to fix it. As soon as possible!”

Her voice was small, “Fix it?”

“I need to build another time machine. One to send me back where I belong.”

“That’s why I’ve come to you.  That’s all.”

She said nothing.

He gestured out the window, toward the junkyard.

“I’ve already scoped out some of the supplies, and with a lab this big I’m sure you can provide the rest, and I’ll just be on my–”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think you’re seeing the bigger picture here.”

“Okay, so it was an accident. I’ll buy that. And I appreciate that you can’t and shouldn’t stay forever. But a stable paradox is a miraculous feat –you can’t just undo it right away! It demands to be studied!”

“And as a fellow scientist, I’m sure you understand opportunities like this don’t show up every day. When’s the next time a time-traveler is going to land in my front yard?”

“Dr. Curious, please understand. This isn’t any old timeline I jumped back to. This is my personal timeline.”

“That teenage girl upstairs? She’s my great-great-great-great grandmother. Every minute I stay here is another minute I could be rewriting forever. Stay too long, and I might wipe myself and everyone I know from existence!”

“…That is a problem.”

“So will you help me or not?”

She looked over at her notes. He glanced at them himself. They weren’t extensive, just bits and pieces really, but they suggested a thorough understanding beneath the surface. He wondered if she kept the rest of it in her head.

Why not? He kept it all in his.

Disappointment was all over her face. Guilt twinged in his chest.

Finally she sighed, and met his gaze.

“Okay. We’ll just work on getting you home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate this, really.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. The twinge became a throb as they exchanged information, him jotting down the number Big gave him, a list of supplies, and a few notes of his own.

No doubt she would understand them.

He said goodbye with another awkward ‘thank you,’ turning away before he saw the not-smile again and hurried out the door.

There were few things he hated to see more than disappointment.

“So I take it you aren’t going to tell me what that was all about? The ‘future man,’ the deer in headlights moment, the being gently escorted out of earshot?”

“Uh. Nothing to tell.”

“Is that right, Mr. Miller?”

He suppressed a cringe. Did she really have to rub in what a terrible liar he was?

Then she added, almost loftily: “You totally choked in there because you thought she was hot.”

“WHAT.”

“It’d be okay if you did, just so you know. Word on the street is she and Mr. Curious are getting a divorce.”

“You have an over-active imagination.”

She shrugged, but said nothing more.

Nothing about…that, anyway.

He turned his mind to more pressing matters for the evening.

Glabe Curious.

He’d never heard of a Glabe Curious.

Culta had said ‘Mr.’ Curious. It was her husband’s name. Maybe they really did get divorced, and maybe she became known for her maiden name?

He tried to scrounge up a memory of any ‘Glabe’ at all, and found he could not.

This was…unsettling.

Still.

It was a better partner than he could have ever hoped for to rebuild the time machine. Knowing about the timestream, having the resources, being intelligent –that was a hell of a head start.

With her help, he could have a shot in hell at getting home.

Just…

He’d feel better if he’d recognized her name.

…

..

.

“…Maisy…?”

“Hey! HEY!”

“Maisy, it’s me. What are you even doing here–“

“Like, can I help you?”

“Can you…What do you mean by that? Don’t you know who I am?”

“Should I?”

“We…We went to high school together. We used to talk in the park. I was voted most likely to burn my house down, don’t you remember…?”

“Don’t you touch me!”

“I don’ know you.”

“Maisy…”

“Please, wait!”

“MAISY!”

The name rang in his ears, and his eyes flew open.

“I’m sorry, did that wake you? It’s just as well…”

“Glabe Curious is on the phone for you. Apparently it’s urgent.”

Urgent? She’d figured out something that was urgent, already?

Feeling slightly out of his depth, he stumbled across the room to the telephone.

“Glabe…?”

“Future Man. I need you back at the lab, pronto.”

“Make sure you bring the girl.”

____________________

TBC

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