“Nothing,” I said. “Now, you still haven’t told me your plan. Let’s hear it.”
It was clear we would have time. The road became so steep and narrow that each tight curve put us at risk of a head-on collision. I only hoped that anybody coming the opposite direction had the sense to slow down, too.
“It’s not that much different from what we’ve already told you,” Danetta said.
“As you may have noticed, my cage has been rattled a few times since then. Fill me in.”
“Okay, no problem. You girls stop me if I forget something.” Danetta said.
Danetta had already left her note just like before, because it turned out to be more important than she had ever imagined. It proved instrumental in preventing the damming of the Buffalo River and had a ripple effect on nature conservation. That part, they did not want to change.
The consequence of that positive influence was that Jacob Beers, inventor of impact absorption shields, never was born. “Of course, history books after our return didn’t show anything about Jacob Beers, but in my research I found information about a Beers family that lived near the river.”
Their home, as well as many others throughout the centuries, was flooded when heavy rains caused flash floods. The runoff from the steep canyon hills and innumerable seasonal streams sometimes made the Buffalo rise faster than even weekend campers could get to higher ground, much less a family trying to save everything they hold dear.
“That’s not to mention all the people who died as a result of falls from buildings, crashes in skyporters, airplanes…” Danetta’s voice started quivering.
“You can’t blame yourself for all that,” I said. Then, to myself, And sometimes you can’t have it both ways, either.
She steeled herself, then continued.
“If we can just get that one family to move from harm’s way, then Jacob Beers’ family will survive to procreate another day, and hundreds of years from now, he’ll be born in Canada.”
“And you’re hoping that just throwing them this money will do it.” I said.
“I don’t see how we have time to do anything else.”
They hoped to buy out several families, she said. In 24 hours, though, that could be difficult. If it took all the money just to convince one family to move, then the first and most obvious hurdle never was in question.
“I think we need to stick to one family,” Chethra said. “Otherwise, we don’t know how we might alter history. What if we move a man who would have died regardless of whether you ever left your note? Maybe, in the future without your note, he was killed in an accident while helping build the dam.” For once, she and I were in complete agreement. It was a great example of why so many people fought to ban time travel the minute it became a reality.
I was no saint when it came to unethical dealings on time jumps, but until then I never knowingly took part in a customer’s plan to change the past. That was all thanks to Danetta and her sidekicks. Still, I wanted to see them succeed.
“We’ve established that we’re going to be a minority in these parts,” Chethra said. “On top of that, except for Mr. Falcon here, we’re women. If memory serves, the backwoods south in 1970 was not the best place for a black woman to be taken seriously as a potential landowner. After all, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in the south just two years ago.”
“You ladies have done your research,” I said. “One question.”
“Shoot,” Danetta said.
“If you only wanted to write a note on that first jump with me, then why did you bring your sister and Chura along?”
“I invited Chura because she had helped me raise money for the trip. I told my sister I was using some of our family fortune to treat Chura to a jump. Chethra didn’t trust me, so she insisted on coming along to — ”
“I don’t feel bad about that. Clearly, you didn’t trust me, or you would have told me instead of my daughter that you had spent your years wasting our family’s fortune on saving the environment.”
That was the first I knew who was the older sister.
A few minutes of silence followed. Chethra stared at the cliff wall to our left, while Danetta surveyed the steep drop to our right. Chura played with the rudimentary radio in the dashboard.
“Aunt Danetta, if we’re screwed — ”
“Chura!”
“Sorry, mom. If we’re… at a major disadvantage because we’re women and we’re a minority, like Mom said, then how do we pull this off?”
I almost felt their gazes shift to me.
“Oh, now wait a minute. I’m a driver. I get you back in time, and I get you from place to place.”
“Falcon, we’re all here now, and it’s clear we need your help,” Danetta said.
I stopped the Jeep. The engine rumbled as it idled, the perfect sound effect for my mind mulling over everything. You wanted a purpose in life, pal. Great, they had driven me to talk to myself.
“You want me to pose as the buyer?”
“Sure, sounds like a great idea. What a team player,” Danetta said. She looked at Chura and nodded. “First step? Getting you cleaned up. You look like you’ve been digging for buried treasure.”
(continue to Part 13)
Good grief…. She continues to abuse him.. and he takes it.
Thanks for the explanation bud… and great post!
Dave – Thanks. Not sure when I’ll post again. Weekend looks pretty busy, being out of town and all.
Hey Mark,
Just finished reading all 12 Falcon posts in one sitting.
Good job … an enjoyable read so far. I’m impressed by your productivity! You seemed to have found a good rhythm; the story flows naturally — and it seems like you know where you’re going with it!
(I say that because, from your comments, I take it you are pretty much making the story up as you go … or at least, were in the beginning!)
I’m curious if you are deliberately avoiding any discussion of the inevitable time-travel paradoxes? i.e., what if one of Falcon’s ancestors had died before having offspring because of the inexistance of the shields, meaning he would never have existed to take the girls back … etc … etc … ?
From what we all KNOW about time travel (having seen various Star Trek episodes and “Back to the Future”!), it seems kind of naive for Falcon and the girls to think that they can mess around with the past like that without provoking an endless cascade of unintended consequences. Too bad they don’t have the plans to the impact shields … they could make a fortune in the present with the invention!
Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I’m still dropping in every once in awhile to check up on your writing. Don’t know when I’ll start blogging again … hopefully I’ll be getting my life back in order before too long!
Jim – I figured you were still around. I still click to check on you every day or two.
I had a middle and an end in mind after I wrote the first three parts, so in a way I know where I’m going. I’m just never sure until I start writing just exactly what they’ll do to get there.
I have thought about paradoxes. It befuddles me why I chose to write a time travel story, when I’m not crazy about them for exactly that reason — too many things just wouldn’t work if people could travel back in time. I put in a dose of Falcon’s thoughts that they might just be starting more problems. Maybe not enough, though.
But, just as one of Falcon’s relatives might have been affected by their travels, it’s also possible that none of them were, so he’s still around. Their return to the future will find some things… “altered,” let’s say.
In fact, just a few posts in, I wanted to make it so that the widespread adoption of skyporters was thanks to impact absorption shields, so there were no skyporters after the opening scene’s return jump. Therefore, not only had they enabled many deaths to occur, they had stifled one of the world’s most exciting advances in transportation. Unfortunately, I already had Falcon flying his skyporter home after that first scene. So, I made it affect skyporters but not completely ground them.
This is something that a writer can avoid completely when not posting chunks of the story as soon as they’re written. Oh well.
“This is something that a writer can avoid completely when not posting chunks of the story as soon as they’re written. Oh well.”
But there is always the rewrite! (I’m still anxiously awaiting CBB’s edited draft of SoS … I’m curious if it will seem as good as it did when it was being posted on the fly. It may be the the novelty of the medium increased its appeal.)
BTW, since nobody mentioned it, here’s a “nitpick” from the first line of this post:
“Now, you still haven’t told me your plan. Let’s here it.”
I know, it seems kind of rude to drop in out of the blue and point out typos, but “I couldn’a hep me-self!”
I absolutely cannot believe that two things happened in succession: I did that and didn’t catch it, and my wife didn’t catch it, either.
Um … I think that was three things …
Mark,
Just this morning finished the first 11 chapters and now this afternoon caught up with 12. I’ve enjoyed the flow of the story more than I was expecting to and the dialogue is pretty crisp and engaging. Considering it’s pretty much written on the fly, it’s a good read.
I read most of the first chapters at home and at one point was in bed with the stapled pages in one hand and a black pen in the other.
Amy said, “What are you doing.”
“Reading a friend’s short story and taking notes for feedback.”
“My god, you are such a geek,” and she rolled over and continued reading her novel.
I am a pariah in my own house.
More feedback later this evening when I get home and can compose myself away from the office. And compile my geeky notes into something coherent…
Simon – Glad you had a chance to sit still long enough to read it (but I guess the state of your motion is a big assumption). Your description gave me a clear picture of your wife lying in bed next to you.
On that note, I’m out.
My brain hurts. As you described what was happening, I began thinking about when they returned. If it was just “after” the first trip, the paper would be there and all they would have to do was buy the property. If it was before, would the first trip still happen right after they left the scene the second time, causing her to find the note she was about to leave?
It’s gotten me into a flat spin!
Gettin’ better with each chapter Mark.