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Authors: Craig W. Turner

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BOOK: Fate (Wilton's Gold #3)
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Rather than face the throng and their questions – many of which would be currently unanswerable based on the immediate scientific implications of Jeff’s return – Dexter slid silently into the darkness of the stage and left out the stage door.

CHAPTER THREE

 

December 11, 2018

 

Dr. Jeff Jacobs sat in the backseat of a dark suburban with shaded windows, restlessly drumming his fingers against his right leg. While he didn’t sense any imminent danger, it was borderline terrifying that he was three years into the future with no sure way of getting back to his present time. He’d been on a long journey, so there should have been some comfort level associated with his homecoming. At least that’s what he’d expected. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what awaited him after his flight from Moscow.

In the front passenger seat was his best friend in the world – or so he thought – Dexter Murphy. When last he’d seen Dexter, the acclaimed historian had just shepherded him through a time travel jump to the California Gold Rush to explore the mystery of how his invention, the time travel device, had ended up deep in the Sierra Nevada forest. They’d parted ways at the airport and he’d headed off to Russia. Now he’d returned to not only a different world and a different time, but a different Dexter.

Jeff wasn’t sure where they were headed. They’d left Andrews Air Force Base about fifteen minutes before. He’d tried to follow their route, but lost track after only a few minutes. He didn’t know the area south of Washington well, so directions wouldn’t have meant much to him anyway. He leaned forward, poking his face into the front seat. “Is it much further? I’ve had a really long flight, I have no idea what’s going on, and I need some rest. I’m sure that whatever it is you have to show me will still be here tomorrow.”

“This is important, Jeff,” Dexter said without looking back. The old Dexter would’ve looked back.

He sighed. “Can you at least assure me that by the end of the night I’ll be somewhere with a shower and a bed?” Based on the mixed messages they’d given him since he’d landed, this request could be fulfilled in a couple of different ways. Could be in a hotel. Could be a prison cell. As things stood, it didn’t matter much to him which, as long as he got to sleep and have some time alone to decompress. It had been quite a journey.

“Just take it easy,” the driver, Agent Fisher, said. Fisher was another enigma. Jeff had actually felt that he’d begun to form a relationship with him while planning the mission in Russia. He’d taken on the mission under Fisher’s direction. Well, more his insistence. Then, an hour ago when he landed, Fisher had accosted him. He didn’t seem to remember any of their conversations. Which was confusing. And disappointing.

It’s not that Jeff was expecting a marching band awaiting him when he arrived back in the country, but he wouldn’t have minded a little gratitude. After all, he had risked his life and used his technology to successfully restore a reality in which the Soviet Union had fallen in 1991 and the United States was the preeminent world power. Of course it was possible that they had no idea any of that had happened, but on the plane he had been thinking of how that was at least worth a plaque or some commendation for his wall at home.

Then, he probably didn’t have a home where he could hang a plaque, he had to imagine. His home in North Jersey would’ve been foreclosed upon long ago when he disappeared, what would have been three years ago now. No one could have known that he’d simply show up a few years later wondering where his stuff went. Not even Dexter, who would have had the best chance of understanding the intricacies of time travel, having experienced it with him. Which would account for the cold reception and unexplained trip to God-knew-where.

Finally, Fisher pulled the truck off of the highway and down a winding road lined with tall bare trees on either side. After a few moments, they came to a manned gate where an armed soldier approached the vehicle. Fisher slipped him his paperwork and after a quick check back in the booth, the gates opened and they were on their way. Jeff noticed the guard’s eyes widen when he saw him in the back seat.

After a few more turns, the trees opened to unveil a vast property, in the middle of which sat an enormous while building with dark windows. The building was shaped almost like an igloo in its construction, though not as round, with a three-story entryway leading to a much larger facility behind it. As they pulled into the parking lot and took a spot, Jeff noticed a brass sign on a block of granite to the right of the main doors. It read “USTP” with smaller letters underneath that he couldn’t make out from his distance.

As they exited the vehicle, Jeff asked, “Can someone tell me where we are?” He thought he might be pushing it, but he did notice that despite his less-than-friendly greeting, he wasn’t in shackles. It hadn’t looked as promising an hour before.

“You honestly don’t remember?” Dexter asked.

“Dexter, I’ve never been here before in my life.” They started to walk toward the front doors, with Fisher in the lead.

“This is the United States Time Program headquarters. It’s a program that you helped to create. You have no recollection of this?”

Jeff shook his head, looking up at the enormous building.

Fisher led them up the wide walkway and through the front doors. It was above average temperature for December – in the mid-40s – so despite Jeff’s clothes being in bad need of a wash, he was warm enough. When he’d haphazardly sent himself back toward the future, he hadn’t considered he’d be arriving in winter. Only because he didn’t take a moment to think about it. He hadn’t
had
a moment to think about it.

They reached a security desk, where the parade stopped. As Fisher and Dexter handed over their credentials, Jeff couldn’t notice this guard staring at him, as well. “Can I help you?” he asked.

The guard stammered. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jacobs – I just didn’t expect you to walk through that door.”

“Is it wrong that I did?”

Dexter slyly shook his head at him and took him by the arm, leading him past the security gates and into the larger part of the building. A spacious atrium landscaped with every indoor plant imaginable was surrounded by level after level of windowed offices. People shuffled in every direction, the majority not noticing their presence. Though one middle-aged man in khakis nodded to him. He nodded back.

“This was my idea?” he asked.

Dexter laughed – the first time he’d shown even the slightest break from whatever hard exterior he’d developed in the past three years. “No, the building was the government’s idea. You would’ve been more frugal.”

Fisher and Dexter led Jeff to the far side of the atrium, past a series of non-descript doors, a small cafe, and a room labeled “Time Travel Museum,” where they disappeared through a set of black doors that required a swipe of Fisher’s identification badge. They were in a bright narrow hallway that led them to another set of doors. These required retinal scans, which they swiftly performed. Fisher looked at Jeff, waiting for him to participate. “Regardless of who you think you are, your eyes don’t change,” he said.

Jeff shrugged and put his face up to the machine. It welcomed him through the doors. “What is this place?” he asked.

“This is the last place anyone saw you.”

“Look,” Jeff said, holding up his hands. “Let’s just assume that all of this time travel has really screwed things up and that we’re both telling the truth. Alright? I’ll stop with the comments about not knowing what the hell you’re talking about, and you stop treating me like a criminal.”

“This is the laboratory that houses the time travel technology that you developed,” Dexter said, jumping in.

“The United States Time Program, right?”

“Yes.” Dexter led him to a large cabinet with a series of drawers and doors, opening one of the doors. He pulled out a time device that was very similar to Jeff’s original design, only this one was much more advanced. The casing was made of white and blue hard plastic, and the design was contoured to his hand. It had the feel of a smart phone with a handle.

“Nice upgrade,” he said, examining it. “How many did you make?”

“You’ve never seen this before?”

“Never.”

“We have a fleet of them – about two dozen. They’re held in a secure room, unless they’re specifically being used.”

He handed the device back to Dexter, who replaced it. “What possible reason could there be to make so many?”

“Not sure,” Dexter said. “It was your recommendation.”

He laughed. “I find that hard to believe. Maybe I was getting a kickback from the manufacturer.”

Dexter nodded, then motioned to Jeff to take a seat in one of the swivel chairs, which he did. Fisher sat in another chair and Dexter remained standing. “The USTP was set up for the purpose of scientific evaluation of time travel, based upon an understanding that if we can figure it out, so can someone else. We need to be the first, we need to be on top of it, and we need to own it. Unfortunately, due to insufficient federal funding, there wasn’t the cash to implement the program – so we had to make it self-sustaining.” He stopped for a moment and held up his hands. “I don’t want to make assumptions here. You did invent time travel, right?”

Jeff nodded.

“Okay, good,” Dexter said. “I can skip some of this.”

“Well, no,” Jeff said, motioning with his finger. “I’d rather you didn’t. There’s some history here that I’m missing.”

Fisher leaned forward, jumping in. “Why don’t we start with you telling us where you’ve been.”

Dexter held up a hand to stop him, but Jeff nodded. “Sure,” he said. “We’ll see how closely it matches your recollection. I’ve been in Russia on a mission that you put me up to.” He pointed to Fisher. “When you learned that I’d invented time travel, you connected me with the Russian woman.”

“You and I have never met before today,” Fisher said, shaking his head.

“How can you say that? I wouldn’t have gone on that cockamamie trip if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Well, you’re either mistaken or you’re fabricating a story. Either way, I’m not going to allow this conversation to go on-”

“Jeff,” Dexter said, interrupting Fisher and motioning to the room around him, “none of this would have happened without you. You and I spent a year-and-a-half building this program after the government folks came to see us. How could you not remember that?”

Jeff pointed at Fisher. “The government folks? No, it was Agent Fisher here. He’s the one who came to us.”

“Never happened,” Fisher said. His impatience was not subtly delivered.

“Then who was it? How did we end up here?” Jeff looked back and forth between Dexter and Fisher.

“It was Dr. Bremner,” Dexter said. “We met at your lab?” Dexter looked between Fisher and Jeff, clearly flustered. “Nothing?”

Jeff ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots. He had no idea what was going on. “But… Evelyn Peters... The Russian woman in the psych hospital? Where was she?” He could tell from the looks on both of their faces that they had no idea who she was. But how? He paused and took a deep, exaggerated breath. “Tell me what happened. Tell me how I started the Time Program and what happened then.”

Fisher loosened his threatening pose with an impatient sigh and sat back in his chair, then Dexter began. “After the U.S. government found your device, you and I were approached by Dr. Bremner, who I guess you’ll meet soon since you apparently haven’t met him yet, to create a partnership and create the Time Program with your invention. You reluctantly agreed, and I came along for the ride. Really, none of this rings a bell? No? Well, since the technology was already established, the next priority was setting the rules of time travel. Which was no small task. You and I spent a year in development of the program while the government built this facility. Everything came together about a year-and-a-half ago, when the program was opened to the public.”

“To the public?”

“Well, ‘to the public’ in the sense of it being open to anyone who had the means to participate. A trip costs a minimum of a million dollars.”

“What?!” His mind flashed back to every terrifying thought he’d ever had about the time travel technology leaving his control.
People could demand trips randomly, now?

“It was an easier lift than raising taxes to pay for the research. Anyway, we ran our first trip for the public – a Texas oilman who wanted to see the Oklahoma land rush. Everything went very smoothly and the program was underway.”

“How’s it work? You just give him the device and he goes on his way?”

Dexter was shaking his head. “No. He’s accompanied. I went with him.”

“As a guide?”

“Well, as a guide, yes, but also as a watchdog. When you were contracted to implement the program, I was hired to head up a research team that clears every traveler before they can go.”

“What do they have to clear?”

“Well, the rules that we put into place. The person can have no familial connection or financial interest in the destination. The trips are for sightseeing and experiencing history only. No changes are to be made to history. The trips are in-and-out, with a duration lasting between one and three hours.”

“We took a year to put those rules together?”

“Lawyers.”

“Sounds like the best rule we could’ve come up with was not to do this at all,” Jeff said, disapproval intentionally creeping into his voice. “Alright, so you take this first trip and get back. Then what?”

BOOK: Fate (Wilton's Gold #3)
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