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Authors: Brian Drinkwater

Tags: #1991, #mit, #Time Travel, #boston

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“What was the question?”

“The question was, how do we amplify the
amount of electricity to the machine’s core without requiring a
direct tie-in to a high tension power line or small nuclear
reactor.” Placing his thumb against the biometric scanner on the
cabinet door, Derek waited for the click of the releasing lock.

“As I said before, I don’t exactly know how
much power we’ll need,” Jason reminded his friend.

Derek turned the handle on the safe-like
cabinet.

“My calculations suggest that we’ll need a
significant burst of power delivered directly to the machine’s core
all at once but I don’t think it’ll be anywhere on the level of a
nuclear reactor.”

“The nuclear reactor was an exaggeration,”
Derek felt the need to explain his apparently unfunny humor as he
opened the cabinet.

“The most important thing is that the power
is dispersed throughout the core at the exact same power level and
at the exact same moment,” Jason preached.

“I know,” Derek agreed. Closing the cabinet
door, the audible click of the automatically re-engaging lock
filled the momentary silence followed by the thud of the steel
briefcase on the counter beside the newly built component.

The design of the device had been entirely
up to Derek. Jason had protested the metal briefcase design for
fear that they’d be mistaken for terrorist lugging around a bomb or
something; but Derek had insisted on the design, sighting its
electrically conducive properties, as well as its ability to be
easily transported without drawing too much attention. While he
couldn’t recall when he’d last seen a shiny metallic briefcase, it
was
better than his initially suggested, blender shaped
design with a laptop fastened to one side. Unwanted attention would
have surely arisen at the site of that monstrosity.

Watching as Derek again placed his thumb
against another small biometric scanner beside the case’s handle,
Jason found himself eagerly anticipating the now familiar, though
still exciting glimpse at the machine’s innards. He hadn’t been
joking about his lack of electromechanical knowledge. That’s why
he’d sought the help of Derek in the first place. Other than their
close friendship, Derek was a brilliant electrical engineer with a
real knack for finding practical solutions for impractical ideas.
He knew that his theory was possible. He knew that his calculations
were correct. He just needed a little help proving it.

Lifting the upper half of the briefcase,
Derek carefully opened the top until the tiny hydraulic arms at
each corner took over, propping it open at a one hundred ten degree
angle. The iPad attached to the interior vertical surface sprang to
life, welcoming them with the familiar Apple logo, followed by a
desktop image of the DeLorean from “Back to The Future”. The other
half of the briefcase was filled with stacks of notepads and
folders, or at least that’s what curious onlookers would be led to
believe if they happened to get a hold of it and somehow managed to
get it open.

Derek again placed his thumb to the same
biometric scanner beside the handle and with the enthusiasm of Doc
Brown himself, uttered “Great Scott”.

“Your obsession with those movies is
troubling,” Jason joked as the briefcase responded to the odd
command, the notepad and folder facade splitting in the middle and
raising like a paper drawbridge within the briefcase to expose the
case’s real contents.

The case was filled with neatly run bundles
of wires bobbing and weaving their way around numerous circuit
boards and, to Jason, unidentifiable computer and electrical
components. At the center of the electrical maze was a four inch
diameter, metal disk with the words “There is no future, without
one’s past” engraved in the center.

Jason’s grandmother had repeated that phrase
every night as she’d tucked him into bed, though he’d never really
understood what it had meant. Every time he’d asked her what it
meant she’d stealthily managed to change the subject. It wasn’t
until a little over three years ago, standing beside her deathbed
in the house that he’d grown up in, that he’d learned the
unbelievable truth behind its meaning.

“You just gonna stare or are you gonna open
this thing?”

Realizing that he was blankly staring at the
short phrase, Jason snapped out of it and placing his thumb against
the same biometric scanner, reluctantly spoke “This is heavy
Doc”.

Derek smiled at his friend’s annoyed tone.
They’d both agreed, for security purposes, that it should take both
of them to fully unlock the device but it had been Derek who had
insisted on the voice coded passwords.

The small metal disk slowly slid aside to
expose more wires and an even smaller circular cavity at its
center. Derek grabbed the tiny metal funnel and with the touch of a
surgeon, began working the tiny device down through the looping
wires, positioning the narrow opening of the funnel through a tiny
hole in the bottom of the spherical core.

After a few minutes of tinkering with the
newly inserted component, Derek looked up at Jason with a smile and
turning the case toward his roommate, uttered the words they
thought might never be said.

“I think it’s ready.”

FIVE

“Do you have him?” the elderly woman on the other
end of the line immediately asked, preventing Ty from answering the
phone with the customary hello.

“No.”

“What you mean, no?”

“Something happened.”

“What you mean something happened? Is he
alright?” the woman’s inquisitive tone became that of worry.

If it had been anyone else asking the
questions, Ty would have been more upset by the lack of interest in
his
own well being, but given that his grandmother had
practically raised him from birth, he knew without words that she
cared. Right now she was more concerned about her great grandchild
and getting him back from the strange family with which he’d been
placed.

“Remind me again why this is so important,
grandma.”

“Is he alright?” the woman persisted,
apparently not interested in anything else until her question had
been answered.

“Yeah, he’s alright...I mean...I think he’s
alright.”

“What you mean you think? What
happened?”

“There was...” He wasn’t quite sure how to
explain what he’d just witnessed. He’d been sitting outside the
Nesbit’s house for nearly two hours but just as the sky had
continued to burn bright with the storm, so had the nursery
windows. He’d almost been ready to drive away but the noise from
the storm was the perfect cover. “As I was just about to get out of
the car a...”

“Yes, a what?”

“Someone else showed up.”

“Someone else? Someone who?”

“Some guy, a kid. I don’t know. I’ve never
seen him before.”

“Ty, you been watching that family for weeks
and you telling me that you never see him before?”

“I didn’t get the impression that he was a
close family friend, grandma.”

“Don’t you get snippy with me.”

“Sorry.”

“What he look like?”

“A white guy, in a black hoodie, kinda on
the skinny side, you know, not very imposing.”

“Well, did you scare him off then?”

“I couldn’t. By the time I got out of the
car he’d already slipped around the side of the house.”

“Well, did you follow him?” Grandma
continued, seemingly frustrated by the slow rate at which the story
was being conveyed.

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“Shock I guess. Does anyone else know about
the baby?”

“Not less you said something.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then no.”

“What was he doing there then?”

“What happened Ty?” she refocused her
grandson’s attention on the story at hand.

“I heard a window break so I ran to the side
of the house but...”

“What?”

“But by the time I got there the guy was
already inside. Grandma, he was trying to kill him!”

“Who? Who was trying to kill who?”

“The baby. He was trying to kill the
baby.”

“What!” the woman’s yell a mixture of anger
and emotion. “Did you stop him?”

“I didn’t have to. I mean I was going to but
Mr. Nesbit burst into the room. I ducked out of sight of the window
but I could hear screaming and a lot of commotion. I guess the guy
got away because the next thing I knew he came bursting through the
front door and ran down the street.”

“The baby. Is the baby alright?”

“Yeah I think so. I mean...” He wasn’t sure
how to put what he’d seen into words.

“What?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me,
grandma?” I mean, I know he’s your great grandson and my son
but...”

“He our blood Ty. You and mine. There is no
one else left in this family and this child very special; in ways
you can never imagine.”

“I think I’ve got an idea.”

The other end of the line remained
silent.

“He disappeared grandma. Not, he was taken
away disappeared. I mean, he disappeared and then somehow ended up
in the living room.”

“The man must have grabbed him, left him in
living room, then run off,” the woman tried to explain away the
peculiarity of what she’d just been told.

“I don’t think so, grandma. During the
commotion, I did take one quick look inside. I saw the stranger and
Mr. Nesbit fighting beside the crib. I didn’t look too long for
fear of being spotted but the crib…the crib was empty. Shortly
after that the man ran out of the house. A moment later I heard the
baby’s cries from another room.”

“Is the child okay?” grandma’s voice changed
again, this time to a more calming tone.

“Yeah, I mean I think so. I knew the cops
would be on their way so I got out of there as quick as I
could.

“Good, and the stranger? Where he now?”

“He’s in the car in front of me,” Ty
replied, slowly changing lanes but keeping his distance.

“He alone?”

“Yes.”

“Follow him. Find out where he go and who he
is. We need to know who else know about child and more importantly,
if he know about us.”

“Grandma, what’s going on?”

“All in good time my son. Right now we need
concentrate on getting that child.”

“That might be harder now. The element of
surprise is gone and the police are aware of the situation.”

“The police don’t know anything. All they
know is what the Nesbits told them. They don’t know anything about
us. Not even the Nesbits know who you are. They don’t know that you
the father. That little slut doesn’t even remember who knocked her
up.”

He didn’t think Tiffany was a slut. He’d
actually grown quite fond of her in the short time they’d spent
together that night. Sure, technically the fact that she’d gotten
knocked up at a party by some random, older guy that she didn’t
know, made her a slut but she’d seemed like a decent girl. He
hadn’t learned of the pregnancy until nearly four months later at
which time he’d conveyed the news to his grandmother, who in turn
had convinced him to keep quiet.

“The girl can’t find out,” she’d said. “She
can’t know who you are.”

At the time he hadn’t exactly been sure why
his paternity should remain a secret. He’d figured it had been for
financial reasons. If Tiffany knew who the father was, she would
surely expect money for raising his child. It hadn’t been until a
little over a month ago that his grandmother’s true reasons for
secrecy had been made known.

Upon learning of the pending adoption,
they’d considered coming forward and claiming the child. His
family’s shady past however, including his mother’s current status
as prisoner number 7865454 and his father’s heroin overdose three
years earlier, made it very unlikely that the state would award a
child, even blood related, to the remaining members of such a
dysfunctional household. That was when his grandmother had
expressed her desire to take the child after its birth.

“We’ll move back to family home and raise
him,” she’d said.

Even then he’d gotten the impression that
there was something his grandmother wasn’t sharing with him, but as
usual, he did as he was told and kept quiet. He spent his time
watching the Nesbit family prior to the adoption, tracking their
habits, noting their routines, though he wasn’t sure why, since a
baby was sure to change all of it.

A month later his son had been born and all
he needed was the right opportunity to swoop in and return him to
his rightful family.

A horn blared as Ty watched the vehicle in
front of him cross the double yellow line only to swerve out of the
way of the startled, oncoming driver.

“What was that?” Grandma questioned.

“Nothing. Just traffic.”

“Find out who he is.”

“I will.”

“I counting on you, Ty. Your son counting on
you. Don’t let us down.”

“I know, grandma. I’ll call you when I find
out what’s going on.”

“Good boy.”

And with those last two words of praise, the
line went dead as the car ahead of him signaled and moved to the
farthest right lane. Hanging back, he did the same, watching as the
car then signaled again, turning onto West Columbus Drive toward
Tampa International Airport.

“Where are you going?” he questioned aloud
as he too signaled his turn.

SIX

“You think Christy and Amber are still in the room?”
Derek wondered aloud as he watched the light bulb in his hand
spring to life with each touch of the battery connected wire being
held in his other hand.

“Huh?” Jason, engrossed in his calculations,
only half acknowledged the first words uttered in nearly an
hour.

“Nothing.” Derek went back to playing with
his light bulb. It was a simple toy but it had been his first
introduction to electricity in elementary school. It was at that
point that he’d become fascinated with the technology and knew what
he wanted to do with the rest of his life. “Didn’t someone say that
the machine was ready? Oh that’s right, I did, yet here we
sit.”

BOOK: Fook
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