A Storied Man

The approaching dogs meant more running.

“Time to ramble through the brambles!” Theo said.

Keith was decidedly less enthusiastic. His pants already shredded below the knee and his skin a little less so, he didn’t need any more brambles.

He sighed and turned to Shelley. “If we do go out again, you’re not allowed to eavesdrop or people-watch.”

“I can live with that,” she said.

“Hey, Keith, can you put our jump portal’s coordinates into that robot and have it lead us there?” Falcon said.

Keith considered it for a moment. With the GPS unit’s circuitry integrated into its own, it could do the job. “Sure. I can do that,” he said.

Keith programmed Falcon’s coordinates into the bot and adjusted its speed so that they could follow. It led off at a fast walk and never broke pace. Everyone else wasn’t quite as steady, slowing for thick underbrush, then jogging to make up ground. The bot continued tirelessly.

“I think we’re moving at a right angle from the dogs,” Keith said. “If they’re tracking us, then at least we’re not moving in a straight line away from them.”

He pulled his backpack around and stowed the bot’s remote in an outside pocket.

“We made a couple of long stops, though, and without any idea we were being followed, we didn’t do anything to hide our trail,” Falcon said.

They kept moving. The forest rewarded Keith with new scrapes and bruises. During a steep downhill stretch, the pounding pace slid his feet forward to repeatedly stub his big toe on the inside of his shoe. He felt blisters forming on the balls of both feet and on his left heel.

The sun broke through gaps in the tree canopy, mottling the forest floor. Keith knew he might appreciate the woods in other circumstances, with a relaxing pace and better shoes.

As they trudged on, the sound of the dogs grew quieter and finally faded in the distance.

“You think we lost them?” Shelley said.

“If we ever even had them,” Keith said. “Hunting’s legal in these woods with permission from the Fullers. They probably were chasing something else.”

The fetcher bot stopped. The remote inside Keith’s pack chirped.

“Say, that tree over yonder is familiar,” Theo said. He pointed to a large oak tree.

Everybody stopped.

“Is this it?” Shelley said.

“We’re at the coordinates Falcon gave me.”

“And that your little robot friend ably broadcast to me,” said a new voice.

They turned to see Agent Wurlitzer, with a shotgun aimed at Falcon. Three bloodhounds lay behind him gnawing rawhide chews.

“I advise nobody to move,” he said. “Really, you should consider using encryption between that thing and its remote control. I’ve known exactly where you were headed for the past 15 minutes.”

“Mechanical sumbitch,” Theo said. “I thought we stopped him, Billy-boy.”

“Your shot paralyzed me temporarily,” Wurlitzer said.

“Great, we’re being chased by an indestructible robot from the future. Not very original.” Shelley said. “I see you still have that hole in your arm, though.”

Falcon darted his eyes over to the oak tree, then back to Wurlitzer. Theo did the same. Wurlitzer didn’t seem to notice.

Keith’s stomach turned. If they made a run for it, what were he and Shelley supposed to do, deal with this guy on their own?

“Now!” Falcon said.

Theo and Falcon ran toward the oak tree, Wurlitzer tracking them with his gun, but Falcon veered off. The agent hesitated, then shot at Falcon and grazed his shoulder. Falcon stayed on his feet and fired the BFG wildly, scattering leaves and dirt over the happily chewing hounds.

The dogs stood and shook off the mess, then went back to their rawhide.

Theo disappeared into a spot just left of the oak tree.

As Wurlitzer steadied the shotgun, Keith’s fetcher bot leaped up and landed on the agent’s face. It covered his eyes and wrapped three legs around his head, three around his neck. Wurlitzer dropped the gun and reached up to try to tear the bot free.

Falcon lowered the BFG as he and the others watched.

Keith marveled at the spectacle of a robot so advanced losing to a basic mechanical servant. Tubes and wires in Wurlitzer’s neck popped through his fake flesh as Keith’s bot squeezed his neck. He pulled at it, but it held fast. He pounded it with his fists, virtually punching himself in the face, without noticeable effect. Unlike a man meeting a similar fate, Wurlitzer made no sound as he struggled to free himself.

Instead, there was only the sound of pressurized gases releasing into the air and the clacking of metal on metal. Keith detected the faint smell of refrigerant and burning wires.

Wurlitzer’s head fell off and rolled to a stop beside a lichen-covered boulder. His body stood for a second or two before falling straight forward to the soft ground, sending leaves and dust into the air.

Keith felt the impact in his feet.

“Wow. That’s a rough way to go,” Falcon said.

“Falcon! Where’s Theo?” Shelley said.

“He jumped.”

“Wow. So, he’s back in your time already?” she said.

“Yes. Probably sitting in his time chamber breathing pretty hard, but he should be fine.”

“That was incredible! How are you not freaking out right now?” Keith said.

“Some of my clients are above board, but there are plenty who aren’t. I’ve seen a lot,” Falcon said. “A robot losing its head is about the best bad outcome I can imagine.”

The fetcher bot tossed aside a few Wurlitzer scraps and walked over to Keith.

“What got into your bot?” Shelley said.

“Just the Asimov rule. At the base of all robot programming is that they must do what they can to preserve human life. It doesn’t go exactly as he wrote in his books, but it’s close.”

“Well, not all of that carried through to our time,” Falcon said.

“You don’t say,” Shelley said.

Falcon walked over to Wurlitzer’s remains, and with a kick sent the head rolling to an abrupt stop against the body. He looked at Shelley and Keith, who shook their heads and wrinkled their brows. They weren’t going to help this time, either.

Falcon worked alone to pile leaves over Wurlitzer’s pieces. He laughed, then stood and arched his back. He grimaced. “One day I’m going to start getting too old for this.”

“You don’t have much time left,” Keith said.

“That’s harsh, Keith. You have to take me to a ballgame or buy me a beer before you can say stuff like that.”

“No, I mean, before you have to go to your time.”

“Oh. You folks from eras gone have a strange sense of humor. Time spent minimizing era contamination is well spent.”

“Will you have to erase our memories or something?” Shelley said.

“Nah. I’ll just hope for the best. Besides, I left my brain wiper at home. Theo and I like to live on the edge.”

Falcon set the BFG on a boulder, then motioned toward the fetcher bot. “My thanks to your little buddy there, Keith.”

“He’s getting a cleaning and a tune-up when I get home. But, um, why did you set that down?”

“I have to step now, and since it wasn’t my time chamber that sent it back here, my jump portal won’t recognize it. It will disintegrate a few minutes after I leave, just like that headless bastard over there.” Falcon said. “Once his portal closes, any weapons he brought with him start breaking down. Time Code Enforcement failsafe.”

Keith liked Falcon. Preparing for his departure was like knowing someone was about to die. Although he knew he would never see him again, he tried to stay upbeat.

He grabbed the handle of Theo’s case and gave it a tug. The heft surprised him. He pulled harder and got it off the ground. “So, what do we do with this?” Keith said.

“I think it’s a lost cause for Theo now,” Falcon said. “Just keep it.”

“Okay, thanks. I guess,” Keith said. “It’s, um, been nice knowing you.”

Falcon smiled as he stood next to the oak tree. “You two did great today. We won’t forget you.”

“Likewise. Bye Bye, Billy-boy,” Shelley said.

“Is there anything you want to tell us before you go back? You know, any detail about the future that might work to our advantage?” Keith said.

Falcon laughed. “Nice try. I’ll tell you this, though. As soon as Cuba opens up, you have to go there for a cup of coffee.”

He turned and walked beside the oak tree, and then he wasn’t there.

“That was insane,” Shelley said.

“Let’s get out of here.”

——-

Keith sat comfortably, vying for elbow room with a large man seated to his left. The woman to his right sat quietly, both elbows drawn in next to her ribs.

It was Shelley.

They sat on an American Spacelines flight, waiting to leave Earth for the first time. The rocket would carry them to the Hemming spacestation, where they would go their separate ways — Shelley to Mars and her daughter, Keith to Prodigia and his sequestered mother.

Theo’s case sat snugly in the overhead bin.

“So, we meet back at Hemming in a month, right?” Shelley said.

“That’s right. We’ll open the case then. Don’t you back out on me, unless you decide to send me a ticket to Mars instead.”

“I won’t.”

“Won’t back out on me, or won’t send a ticket to Mars?” Keith said.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, not funny.”

The thrusters engaged and shook the craft. Exhaust plumed all around, blocking the window views. Keith relented the fight for his left armrest and wrapped both his hands around Shelley’s.

“Here we go,” he said.

Shelley smiled nervously, but with bright eyes. “Time to ramble through the brambles!”

(Update: I changed the parts following the paragraph ending with “he tried to stay upbeat.” Reader Moksha Gren pointed out a major hole in the story, and I tried my best to fix it on short notice and in a hurry (kind of the way I got myself into that situation in the first place. Everything else in this story is just as I wrote it, on the fly.)

Keith sat with his back against a tree, watching the bot’s remote LCD. No hits after five minutes. He looked at Shelley, sitting on a rock. She smiled with her lips closed. He doubted he had a shot at dating her again.

“So, are we going to go out again after all this is over?” she said.

“You mean you weren’t just using me for my technical skills?”

“I asked you out before I even knew about these guys.”

Keith snapped apart a twig and used it to work dirt from under his fingernails.

“You gonna do that a lot?” Shelley said.

“Just until it grosses you out.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“I like to test my boundaries up front.”

Keith pulled out a few Pro-Teen bars he kept in his backpack and shared them with everybody. He remembered the ad bot he programmed for the product, with corny teenager lingo like, “One taste and you’ll say, ‘Dodge Rammit’ these are good.” It was the worst bit of cross-marketing he’d ever heard, but the term had caught on with the less clever kids.

Falcon and Theo lay on their backs, looking up at the sky, munching quietly. Theo hummed a song Keith didn’t recognize, and soon Falcon joined in for what Keith guessed was the chorus. It sounded like Falcon was guessing, too.

“Damn, Billy-boy, we’d never make it on the road with that one.”

The bot’s remote chirped.

Theo got up on his hands and knees and scampered over to Keith like a dog coming for its favorite treat. “Whatcha got, Keither?”

“It found some metal. I have the coordinates.”

“Let’s git on over there,” Theo said.

On the way, Keith started to feel vulnerable. The forest’s unpredictable layout, with none of the right angles or structural organization of the city, made him nervous. With nothing to keep his bearings besides the technology he held in his hand, he wanted to be surrounded by the familiarity of the streets.

Keith barked his shin on a rock. He stumbled for a moment, but continued with only Shelley noticing. After that he kept his glances down at the remote’s display to a minimum.

All the men worked to get enough oxygen. Shelley didn’t seem winded at all. At first they carefully wound their way around briers and low-hanging branches, but that soon gave way to altering course only for large trees. Keith lacked their sense of urgency, but because he was their navigator, he kept up with the group.

“Hey, we’re getting close,” Keith said.

“Hot damn!”

“Watch out. There’s a rusty set of springs up here,” Falcon said.

Keith walked straight for it, eyes locked onto the screen.

“Don’t tell me,” Theo said.

Keith stopped. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said. “We’ve been tracking this old bed.” He kicked the springs.

Before they could get settled, the remote chirped. Hoping to avoid panting all the way to the next stop, Keith headed out first to set the pace. Theo and Falcon hummed again. Shelley joined in at the most repetitious parts, her voice improving listenability considerably.

They reached a spot that was about two meters wide and clear of leaves. His eyes on the LCD, Keith said, “This is it.”

“Well, where’s your little buddy? We ain’t got no way to dig without him.”

“What were you going to do before we came along?” Shelley said. “And is that honestly the way you talk? It’s getting annoying.”

“As you may have noticed, we left the train under duress. Stopping for our shovel wasn’t high on the list,” Falcon said. “As for how he talks, I’ll let him tell you that.”

“I’m what I like to call a self-styled southern cowboy,” Theo said.

Shelley laughed. “Right, and from the future.”

“I’ve called the fetcher bot back to this location,” Keith said.

When the bot arrived, it stopped on a spot at the center of the small clearing.

Keith said, “Detect and retrieve.”

Standing on three legs, the bot tore into the ground with its other three. Each time it went as deep as its legs reached, it pulled off a piece of its carapace to scoop out the dirt, then repeated the process.

“Adaptable,” Falcon said.

“It has a little bit of AI,” Keith said.

They stood over the hole watching the bot work. Each time it flung dirt from the hole, they leaned back to avoid it. When it got two meters down, Keith could have mistaken it for a groundhog in a flurry of dirt and debris.

Then it stopped digging and emitted a warning sound like an earth mover in reverse.

“Stand back,” Keith said.

A metal case shot out of the hole, about five feet above ground. Shelley fell and scrambled like a sand crab. The case landed with a thump in the spot where she had stood.

Keith reached for a small tree to keep from falling. Before he could stop himself, he saw that thorns enshrouded the tree’s trunk. Pain shot through his hand. “Son of a –” he began, then finished with a growl.

“You makin’ it okay, Keither?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Am I the only one these woods are trying to kill?”

“Your robot’s trying to kill me,” Shelley said.

Dogs barked in the distance.

“Well, friends and neighbors, it sounds like somethin’ stirred up the hounds.”

Two of the fetcher bot’s legs reached above the edge of the hole and staked themselves into the ground. Then, in one fluid motion the bot flipped up from the hole, withdrew the two legs and landed on its feet. “Stop search,” Keith said. The bot went limp.

Everyone walked over to the dirty case. The parts not covered with dirt shone a dull black. “That’s it,” Theo said.

He knelt down, released two latches, and opened the case. Inside was a bright silver box, and a small lock held shut its ornate clasp. Intricate engravings adorned the top and sides.

“It’s beautiful,” Shelley said. “What’s inside?”

“Should I tell her, pard?”

“That’s up to you, but I don’t recommend it.”

Tired of the buried treasure, Keith walked over to his bot and started wiping it down with his shirt. It had shown him a new side. Maybe after that he would entrust it to do more than just keep his apartment floor navigable.

The sound of the dogs grew louder.

“Um, guys, the dogs are coming toward us,” Keith said.

(to be concluded)

“You’re saying that what you’re looking for is worthless to us?” Shelley said.

“She’s catchin’ on, Billy-boy,” Theo said.

“This day is really starting to suck,” Keith said.

“Why is it worth something to you?” Shelley said.

“You might say Theo is a collector of sorts. An eccentric.”

“Fancy word, there, but I’ll accept it.”

“I need money for my daughter,” Shelley said. “I was hoping this would help.”

Theo smiled. “Well, if cash is what you need, I gotcha covered.”

“Money that works here?” Keith said.

“Yep. We always need cash on our adventures, don’t we, Billy-boy? No cred for the time jumpers.”

Falcon nodded.

“You’d do that? Just give us money?” Shelley said.

“Well, I reckon if you help us, that can be arranged, little lady. First, why don’t you tell us — ”

“Before we say or do anything,” Keith said, “Why don’t you tell us more about where you come from?”

“Can we at least get moving in the right direction first? We’re kind of in a hurry,” Falcon said.

“Where do we need to start? You have a general idea where to look, right?”

“I only know it was in a patch of what they call paw-paw trees,” Theo said.

“I know where they are,” Shelley said.

Almost in unison, the men asked, “How?”

“Like I said, my husband helped inventory all the trees in these woods. I helped him create the maps for his presentation.”

“You mean, ex-husband,” Keith said.

“Right, that’s what I meant. The point is, we need to go this way.” She pointed into the forest. Which direction, Keith didn’t know.

They walked, Theo and Falcon in front, Shelley and Keith behind. Dry leaves crunched underfoot. A woodpecker drilled for bugs in a decaying tree. Keith found himself expecting an ad bot to rush down and start hawking goods or services. Instead, the occasional swarm of gnats hovered at eye level, and birds flitted when they heard footsteps or voices.

As much as he enjoyed the change of scenery, Keith couldn’t quell his curiosity any longer.

“So, back to my question. Where are you guys from?” he said.

“Not where. When. Let’s just say we came here from the future.”

“But we can’t travel through time,” Keith said.

“Not yet,” Falcon said. He stepped away from the group just long enough to lean over and pick up several pecans near a tree loaded with them.

“If you’re from the future, then why do you have to dig up things here?” Shelley said.

“Like my pardner said, I collect things. Things that the law don’t exactly like me havin’ in our time. So, I bury them in the past and then dig them up in our time.”

“Why not just come back in time, get it, and take it back with you?” Keith said.

Falcon clamped his hands together and cracked a pecan. “Doesn’t work that way,” he said. “We use a time chamber to transport to a spot here, and then we just re-enter our time through the same spot. Only what came in can go back.”

“Take this nut,” he continued. “If I eat this now, and then make the return jump, it’s as if I never ate it. This broken shell wouldn’t be in my hand anymore.”

“But that doesn’t answer why you’re digging something up right now,” Shelley said.

“It seems that something we did the first time around, when we buried it, messed up history. In our time, these woods were here. But, after we got back from burying this particular treasure, we found an office complex instead.”

“I’ve heard of that. Timeline contamination or something,” Keith said.

“Right. So now we’re back to move it.”

“Why not just go back and change what you did in the first place?” Keith said.

“That’s tricky. My time chamber isn’t the latest and greatest, so jumps aren’t an exact science.”

“Such amazing technology, but it has bugs. I love it,” Keith said.

“So, what did you you do to mess up history?” Shelley said.

“We’ll just say it was an accident and leave it at that,” Falcon said.

Theo looked at his watch. “Um, pard, we need to get a move on.”

“Why such a hurry? That guy Wurlitzer’s not following you any more,” Keith said.

Falcon sucked his teeth, apparently trying to work free a pecan fragment. “It’s the biggest catch to time travel. We have only 24 hours before we make the return jump.”

“Or else what?” Shelley said.

He turned his head and spit, then looked back at her. “Or else we die.”

Keith whistled. “Whoa. That’s why you said Wurlitzer will disintegrate?”

“Yes. Just like anything living or sentient.” His lips pulled in more of the pecan from the palm of his hand. “These fresh pecans are delicious. I wish I could bury them to dig up later. But, some things just don’t keep that long.”

“Billy-boy here might seem rough around the edges, but he’s a gourmet. Likes funny coffees and such, too.”

With too much to process already, Keith kept further questions to himself. Just a day before, he had lamented not having the technologically advanced toys of the rich, the very devices he programmed every day. Now, there he was, walking in the woods with people who traveled through time. It seemed too far out to believe.

Soon the smaller trees gave way to towering behemoths, themselves travelers through centuries of human history. They had lived through wars, famine, and epidemics. More story to tell than anything else on Earth, yet no voice to share it.

His thoughts wandered from Earth to places off-planet. His mother, up there on Prodigia, with no trees or other natural wonders to see. Mars, with its barren landscape attracting travelers from every corner of the world.

“So you say this will become an office complex?” Keith said.

“A good chunk of it, as far as we know,” Theo said.

Falcon stopped and squatted beside a large boulder. He pushed aside leaves to reveal what had caught his eye. “What are these seeds?” he said.

The seeds were nearly flat, dark brown, and about the size of his thumbnail.

“It’s a paw-paw seed,” Shelley said. “We must be close to the paw-paw trees.”

“Well, shit fire and save the matches! I do feel like I’ve been here before. Let’s get to lookin’,” Theo said.

Shelley pointed at Keith’s backpack. “I’ve done my part. Now it’s up to his little buddy in there.”

“Not unless what we’re looking for is metal,” Keith said.

“It’s in a metal case,” Theo said.

Keith took off his backpack and eased it to the ground. He knelt and unzipped it, then hesitated for a deep breath. This wasn’t going at all as he had imagined, and he still wasn’t sure the strangers were being truthful. They weaved a good tale, but had no proof. Still, given the alternative — ditch Shelley and then try to face her in the office, he reached in and pulled out his fetcher bot.

Falcon and Theo laughed. The sound reverberated through the forest.

“That thing’s our saving grace?” Theo said. “Lord help us all.”

“Hey, it has it where it counts,” Keith said. “It can move faster than we can, and has a GPS unit that feeds back to this remote. We’ll always know where it is.”

“He didn’t mean to offend you,” Falcon said as he cracked another pecan. “Okay. Let’s set up shop and see what that thing can do.”

Keith activated the fetcher, then worked at the buttons on the remote. “I programmed it to search for metals and report the GPS coordinates of each find. I gave it a 200 meter radius, starting on the outside and working its way in.”

The metallic bot rustled away as straight as the trees allowed, and soon was out of sight.

Keith turned to Falcon. “He’s been calling you ‘Billy-boy,’ but I heard you tell him to call you ‘Falcon.’ What should we call you?”

“Falcon. It’s a nickname, but it’s what I prefer.”

“I’m Keith, and this is Shelley.” He motioned to Shelley, who was ripping leaves apart into piles of various browns.

“Name’s Theo,” Theo said.

“How long will it take you guys to get to your jump portal from here?” Keith said. He couldn’t believe he’d uttered those words.

“About 30 minutes,” Falcon said.

“How long until your time is up?”

“About two hours.”

(to be continued)

The maglev power failed and the train fell onto the rails. Several passengers shrieked at the jolt.

“I thought these things had wheels for starting and stopping,” Shelley said.

“They do, but this stop wasn’t planned,” Keith said.

“Hey, look!” yelled a man pointing out the window.

The men called Falcon and Theo ran down the rail’s grassy embankment to a neighborhood of slum houses. The man in the Armani suit followed, brandishing a large, silver weapon that resembled a gun. He leveled it at the men and pulled the trigger.

A shack beside Falcon and Theo collapsed in a pile of dust and debris. They scurried behind another ramshackle building. Theo drew a gun Keith recognized as one from old western movies, but couldn’t name. He aimed and fired.

An explosion sounded and the suited man fell forward and tumbled down the embankment. For almost a minute nobody moved, not even the passengers, by now speechless.

Falcon ran over to the suited man and grabbed his weapon. Then, he and Theo turned and hurried deeper into the slums.

“Come on!” Shelley said. “Let’s catch up to those guys!”

“Did you miss the part about the guns?” Keith said.

“I think they just took care of that. Come on!”

Shelley ran to the nearest door and pressed the emergency exit button.

“You’re completely insane,” Keith said.

“But you’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

She bounded out the door and started easing her way down the hill.

Keith looked at two men with severe expressions. They shook their heads. A woman sitting behind them nodded and smiled.

He grabbed his backpack. “Dammit!” he said, and followed after the woman whom just the day before he’d only wanted to buy a cup of coffee.

He stumbled and Shelley steadied him. They continued down hand-in-hand, at turns slipping and walking in switchbacks to avoid tumbling.

“Try to keep an eye on them,” Shelley said.

“I’m a little busy looking at my feet right now.”

At the bottom of the hill, the wooden shanties leaned at angles that seemed to defy gravity. A rotten stench floated in the air. Shelley pinched her nose shut while Keith folded an arm over his.

“The government spends money to send the overtly obese to Prodigia, but they can’t do anything to help these people?”

“Governments will always need poor people,” Shelley said. “But quit talking and keep moving. I think they went this way.”

Their feet smacked against the rutted, muddy road. A family sitting on a porch sofa turned their heads to watch. A man leaning under the hood of a car raised up long enough to get a look at them, then turned back to his work.

Shelly yelled to a boy on a bicycle. “Hey, did two men just run by here?”

“Sure did.” The boy pointed. “They went that way.”

Soon they reached the end of the street, where dense forest awaited them. They leaned over and put their hands on their knees to catch their breath.

“It’s Fuller Woods,” Keith said.

“Where’s the mansion?”

“Opposite side, only about 300 meters in.”

“I don’t see any sign of those guys,” Shelley said. “If only I’d told them I could help them find what they’re looking for.”

“What did you say, young lady?” a man’s voice said. It was somewhere nearby, in the woods.

They shot glances all around.

“Who said that?” Keith said.

“Theo, stop talking to them,” came another voice.

Theo stepped from behind a large oak tree. “We’re runnin’ out of time, pardner,” he said. “If these nice folks can help us, then I’m all for it. You know somethin’ about what we’re after, young lady?”

“Yes, sir. I overheard you talking at the Cotton Patch, and I know all about these woods.”

“Stop!” called a man’s voice from behind them.

“Did we piss in that boy’s Cheerios, or what?” Theo said. “He don’t give up for nothin’, not even after I winged him.”

The suited man slipped with each step as he drew closer. His right arm across his chest, he pressed a hand against his shoulder. There was no blood on his clothes.

Falcon stepped out from behind a looming maple tree. “What are you going to do, Agent? I have your BFG,” he said.

“Just paralyze him, Billy-boy, so we can go on about our business.”

Falcon raised the weapon and aimed. The approaching man stopped and held up his right arm in surrender. “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”

Theo laughed. “You mean ‘one-armed,’” he said. “Now that’s the first good laugh I’ve had all day.”

Wires hung from a gaping hole in the man’s upper arm.

Keith’s mouth dropped open. “What are you?”

“I’m Agent Wurlitzer, Time Code Enforcement, and I’m placing those two under arrest.”

“Sorry about this, pal,” Falcon said. He pulled the trigger.

The suited man fell flat on his back in the mud.

“Did he say, ‘Time Code Enforcement?’” Keith said.

“Yes, he did. I wish you hadn’t heard that,” Falcon said.

“Please, don’t shoot us,” Shelley said.

“Well, my client seems to think we need you. First, we have to move him.” He motioned to Wurlitzer, still lying motionless. “Can’t leave our time’s technology out here for anybody to find.”

Keith and Shelley shook their heads.

Theo and Falcon each grabbed one of Wurlitzer’s legs and dragged him behind a tree. They covered him with leaves.

“Now what happens to him?” Keith said.

“Oh, he’ll disintegrate,” Falcon said.

Keith pointed at the BFG. “Because of that thing?”

“No, because of the laws of physics. Or, rather, because of how we bend them.”

“So you do travel in time?”

“I’ll tell you all about it, if I get the chance. Meanwhile, let’s move.”

“Yes, sir,” Shelley said.

“Quit calling these guys ’sir,’” Keith said.

They headed into the woods, ducking under briers and pushing aside aromatic cedar limbs.

Keith considered Wurlitzer again. He couldn’t imagine programming such a robot, even if the designers could make it look like a man.

“So, how do you know so much about this place, little lady?” Theo asked.

“The Fullers are thinking about selling this plot of land, and they had the lumber company my ex-husband works for come out and mark all the trees. To see if they could make money off the timber first. He came back with more bug bites and rashes than I’ve ever seen on one person. I was practically pouring calamine lotion on him. Not to mention the foot fungus he ended up with. Part of this land is swamp, you know. His feet weren’t dry for probably a good month.”

“Poor guy,” Falcon said.

“Oh, no, he’s a complete son of a bitch,” Shelley said. “He suffered a lot on that job, but I can’t say I felt sorry for him.”

Fallen branches cracked under their feet. Squirrels scurried up trees.

“Now I see why he wanted to marry a rich woman,” Keith said.

“Yeah, she swept him away from all that. And our cut of this money will help us get out, too.”

Falcon and Theo stopped. Keith bumped into Falcon. Shelley bumped into Theo.

Falcon turned to face them. “You’re cut of the what?”

“The money that you’re looking for. Or something valuable, anyway. We’ll get in on the deal now that we’re helping you, right?” Shelley said.

Theo and Falcon laughed.

“Darlin’,” Theo said, “We ain’t searchin’ for money.”

“And not anything else that would be of value to you,” Falcon said.

(to be continued)

Keith and Shelley tried to get comfortable on the bullet train, heading south to Fullerton. The property surrounding Fuller’s mansion included about 500 wooded acres, and somewhere in that forest was a treasure that would make them rich, according to Shelley. Keith wasn’t so sure.

“I’m not so sure about this,” he said.

His fetcher bot, now modified for their mission, rested quietly in Keith’s backpack. The sensors from his old metal detector had integrated easily into the bot’s array. He also transplanted his handheld GPS unit’s innards to the fetcher. The programming was the tricky part, but before he left his apartment it all seemed to be working.

“It can’t hurt to try,” Shelley said.

Keith turned to look at her.

“Um, did you see what happened on that patio? If that beam, or pulse, or whatever it was had hit us, it would have done much more than just hurt.”

“But nobody’s after us. They don’t even know we know anything.”

“Yet.”

A man sitting across from them stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around. He pulled it out and looked at it, then wiped it on his suit pants. Having everything within walking distance had kept Keith from needing mass transit very often. He couldn’t imagine attaining the level of comfort it would take to pick his ear in public.

He also wondered why a man wearing an Armani suit was riding the bullet.

“I gotta hit the restroom,” Keith said.

He made his way down the aisle, keeping his face pointed straight ahead while his eyes watched the people. Through three cars he walked, some of the passengers wearing smiles, others whose indifferent dazes could be broken only by the name of their stop blaring from the speakers. The younger riders bobbed their heads to the sound of music coming from their personal media players. Those with receding hairlines and gray at their temples stared out the windows, as if answers lay in the rolling green hills. He saw only a few exceptions to the pattern.

A few rows short of the restrooms, Keith saw the men called Theo and Falcon. His palms broke out in sweat. Those guys brought bad luck, and until Shelley came into his life, he had kept risk as far away as possible.

But he really needed to pee.

His gaze remained on Theo too long. “You alright? You look like you just seen a ghost,” Theo said.

“Just need to use the b-b-bathroom,” Keith said.

“Theo, don’t talk to anybody non-essential,” muttered Falcon.

“Sorry, Billy Boy.” Then, to Keith, “Just forget I was ever here, y’hear?”

Falcon tugged on Theo’s sleeve. “Theo! This is only our second trip together. I can make it our last.”

Keith nodded and continued on his route.

Before he was out of earshot, he heard, “Pretty soon you’ll be just like me, Billy Boy. You’ll live for excitement.”

When Keith reached the restroom its sliding door opened. He ducked inside and after the door closed, he exhaled. He stepped on a pedal and leaned over the basin to splash cold water in his face.

Straightening up for a look in the mirror, he said, “You’re crazy. What are you thinking?” He looked down at the crotch of his pants. “Better yet, what are you thinking?”

Had he not been with Shelley the day before, he would have run screaming from The Cotton Patch like the rest of the patrons and tried to forget he had ever seen the strangers. Now, they happened to be on the same train. Clearly, his brain was not making all the decisions lately.

As he made his way back to his seat, he met the man in the Armani suit coming the other direction. The man’s eyes were fixed on a point near the restrooms. The spot where the two strangers sat.

Keith felt beads of sweat rolling down his rib cage. If anybody opened fire on that train with the kind of weapon used on the restaurant patio, things would get nasty in a hurry. He tried not to look suspicious as he squeezed past the suited man. With no idea of what an intentionally inconspicuous expression felt like, he wasn’t sure he got it right.

A few rows beyond where he and the suited man met, Keith risked a look back. The man passed Theo and Falcon and entered the restroom. “Okay, no shooting yet. That’s good,” Keith muttered. He made his way back through two more cars without meeting anyone else, just the way he liked it.

Back at their seats, Shelley had joined the ranks of the young. Her eyes closed and her earbuds in place, she swayed her head rhythmically to what Keith guessed was a ballad. Even magnets for controversy could seem sweet and peaceful with their eyes and mouth shut.

Before he sat, he noticed that the landscape blurred past more slowly. He braced himself as the rate of deceleration increased. Although he could make out what looked like a station up ahead, it was clear the train would stop well short.

A woman’s husky voice floated down from hidden speakers. “Good morning, everyone. We are experiencing an unplanned stop. Please remain seated while we determine the cause.”

(to be continued)

They ate quietly and took in the scenery.

The setting sun reflected off skyscraper windows opposite the patio. It was the first tall building on the west side of town, so they watched the butterscotch disk slide down for the next 10 minutes.

Sunrise and sunset were the two times of day that the city could count on splashes of color besides ad displays, as long as the clouds cooperated.

Keith couldn’t help overhearing two men sitting at the table behind him.

“I tell you, Billy Boy, it’s buried out there somewhere, and we’re gonna find it.”

Keith recognized it as a faked southern accent with a hint of Texan. He knew because he had programmed both into bots bound for Atlanta and Dallas.

“Keep your voice down, Theo. Like I said before, we just came here to eat. We can talk business in private. And please, stop using my real name. Call me Falcon.”

Keith didn’t recognize that one at all. It was English, but spoken in a way he’d never heard.

“Ain’t these vittles delicious?” Theo asked.

“I didn’t see that on the menu,” said Falcon.

“‘Vittles’ just means ‘food.’ And damn fine food here at the Cotton Patch, I tell you what.”

A finger tapped his hand. “Keith?” Shelley said. “I lost you again.” She held a spoonful of orange gelatin, infused with pineapple chunks, in front of her lips.

Full, luscious lips.

Keith shook his head and feigned dizziness. “Sorry. Like you said, ‘Zonesville.’”

“You do that a lot, huh?”

“Just a touch of ADD, I guess.”

She laughed at him and slurped the gelatin from her spoon.

He knew had no chance with this woman. Even if he somehow fooled her long enough to seem interesting, or steal a kiss, he couldn’t maintain the veneer forever. Hers, like the fancies of all women he had dated before, would wander to a more handsome or more wealthy man. Why even try?

“You said your mom’s on Prodigia. What happened?” Shelley asked.

He finished chewing an oversize bite of chicken fried steak, then rinsed it down with sweet iced tea. His fork pointed at his plate, he said, “She ate too much of this.”

“No, seriously. I mean, the laws are out of control, but couldn’t she have just dressed appropriately to avoid getting arrested?”

“Mom was proud of who she was. It was her way of protesting the system.”

“Her obesity?”

“Her ‘natural state,’ was what she called it. Not just that, though. She always said, ‘If I wanted to wear a tent, I’d go camping.’ She didn’t care if she offended people.”

The server bot stopped beside their table. “Anything else I can get for you, darlin’?”

“No, thanks, we’re fine,” Keith said.

It reached over and refilled Shelley’s water, then ambled back inside.

“Your mom had guts. I admire her for that. Plus, you said she’s happier there anyway.”

“Or at least that’s what she tells me.”

They poked at what was left of their black-eyed peas. The sun reflected off the fourth-floor windows across the street.

“So, back to the subject. What else can you make the bots do?”

The vacant table and chairs next to them flew into the air and bounced off the wrought iron fence. They crashed onto the patio, sending chunks of concrete flying. Shelley and Keith ducked and put their arms over their heads.

“Billy Boy, I’d say they’re onto us,” said the southern Texan.

“Let’s go!” said the man who liked to be called, ‘Falcon.’

The strangers bolted from their chairs and ran for the restaurant’s dining room. Keith and Shelley followed, in search of cover. A large statue of a boll weevil beside the door burst into fine powder, blanketing them as they entered. Bewildered diners scattered.

While the strangers escaped out the front doors onto the streets, Keith and Shelley folded themselves under a corner booth table. Their faces only inches apart, Keith could feel her breath on his face.

“What the hell was that?” Shelley asked.

“I don’t know, some kind of weapon I’ve never seen before.” Keith said. He had suspected something wasn’t right about those men.

“I think I know why they were being shot at,” she said just above a whisper.

Keith instinctively took her cue and spoke softly. “How would you know that?”

“I was listening to them before you got here. They’re looking for money, or something worth lots of it. Interested?”

“In doing what?” he asked, incredulous.

“Your little robots. Couldn’t they help… you know… find lost treasure?”

“Those guys are long gone by now,” Keith said.

“Yes, but I know where they’ve been looking, and I think I know why they’re not finding it.”

“Look, Shelley, I like you. You’re real pretty and you seem smart, but this is crazy.”

She grabbed one of his hands and held it against her chest, just below her neckline. “I need a break like this, Keith. My little girl needs it. I can’t compete with that rich bitch her father married. No offense, but from what I’ve heard, you could use some extra cash flow, too. Maybe finally make an off-planet trip?”

Keith dropped the hushed tone. “This date is really starting to suck.”

(to be continued)

(To read Part 1, please click here)

Keith stretched a dripping wet arm over the shower door and grabbed his towel off the hook. “Showers, towels. I’m so prehistoric.” Few things aggravated him more than doing without the expensive conveniences he worked so hard to make available.

He wondered if Shelley had to take showers. Surely with her salary she couldn’t afford anything else. As the image of her undressed body grew clearer in his mind, he wrapped the towel around his waist and tried to think about something else. “Don’t get carried away. If you’re going to date a girl like Shelley, you have to learn a little self-control.”

To take his mind off his condition, he carefully leaned in and inspected his face in the mirror. A lingering pimple sat atop his left eyebrow. He cursed it and scanned his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. Nothing more to see. He hadn’t completely outgrown acne, but it had stopped defining his countenance.

After shaving he used his towel again and threw it down. Seconds later a tiny fetcher bot emerged from a small hinged porthole in the bathroom door. Its six metal feet clicked on the tiles as it scampered to grab the towel. As it rushed back out its porthole, the bulky towel got stuck. The bot tugged at it noisily a few times, then came back in the bathroom and started trying to shove it through.

“Stop fetch,” Keith said.

The bot fell limp on the tiles.

Keith leaned down and folded the towel into a tight square.

“Resume fetch,” he said.

The fetcher bot stood, grabbed the towel and went through the porthole without any trouble. The muffled sucking sound of a laundry tube followed.

The little metallic beast was one of the few luxuries Keith owned, and only because he had built it from parts left over at work. Basic fetcher bots didn’t require much artificial intelligence or precise movement to keep the floors clear. Although he worked on much more advanced technology at the office, he dared sneak home only the obsolete components. Nobody would ever notice they were missing.

Consequently, he often called his, “The dumbest fetcher bot on or off Earth.”

He imagined what it would be like if Shelley ever came to his place and had to use the restroom. Would she find it perfectly normal or perfectly awful to use soap and water to clean her hands?

“Came to my place? Right. If I could only be so lucky,” he said.

He brushed his teeth and got dressed, then headed out the door to the restaurant where he’d agreed to meet Shelley.

The street was awash in drab. The buildings were painted gray, per city ordinance, with only the ad displays in color. Local officials, many also local business owners, were convinced this would help focus attention on the displays. Boost revenue, boost sales, boost the city. They said it was a win-win arrangement.

Keith ducked to avoid a low-flying talking ad bot. He’d never heard of anyone being hit, but he couldn’t stop instinct. “Feet feeling tired? Get a pair of Segue shoes today,” the bot suggested. It eased along just above the pedestrians’ heads, repeating its message in three languages.

Although he didn’t know the languages, Keith could repeat the phrases verbatim. The bot was one he had helped program, and more and more companies were ordering them. Once the purchase and programming costs of a bot were out of the way, the operation was inexpensive. During rush hours ad bots seemed like hordes of locusts.

There were some aspects of cheap energy that he didn’t like.

Shelley sat at a table on the restaurant’s patio. A wrought iron fence separated the area from the adjoining sidewalk. She waved and called out, “Hey!”

She looked so much more beautiful than at work that he instantly felt the urge to turn around and leave. She had seen him, so he waved back, then entered the front and quickly made his way out the patio door.

“You were early,” he said as he sat down.

“I get bored just sitting at home when my daughter’s not there, so I like to get out and people-watch,” she said.

“I do, too.”

Keith pulled up his chair.

And made the mistake of lifting its casters off the ground.

A shrill alarm sounded, turning heads. “Oh, crap!” he set the chair back down. The alarm stopped. “Damn anti-theft’s built into everything these days.”

They both grinned warmly and looked down at their menus.

A server bot came to the table. “Welcome to the Cotton Patch. What would you like, Sugar?”

“No, thanks. I don’t need any sugar right now.” Shelley said.

“Um, it wasn’t asking that,” Todd said. “‘Sugar’ was a term of endearment in the American South. The words are programmed right, but not the inflection.”

“Why do they keep trying to make them sound more human? I don’t need smalltalk from a bot.” She looked up at Keith. “Oh, sorry. I guess that would kind of put you out of a job, wouldn’t it?”

“Not really. I work for the marketing department. I don’t program service bots.”

The server bot set down a basket of wheat rolls and cornbread. “Oh, God. Real butter. Please don’t stop me,” Shelley said.

“You don’t really need it, but permission granted,” Keith said.

He grabbed a wheat roll while Shelley slathered butter on a piece of cornbread. “Diced jalapeño right inside there,” she said.

Keith watched a homeless man on the sidewalk just outside the fence. “Get away from me, evil doer!” the man shouted at the ad bot trying to sell shoes. The bot dipped to avoid the man’s fist, then increased its altitude to avoid further attack. Keith smiled proudly at seeing its maneuverability — his coding skills put into action.

“Segue shoes will boost your ‘tude!” the bot added as it moved on to the next victim.

“What did that bot just say?” Shelley asked.

“Please, don’t remind me,” Keith said. “For the speech I just go by the script I’m given.”

“Tell me, Mr. Roboto, just what can you make those little things do?”

“Anything I want. Well, anything the company tells me to.”

“No, you said, ‘Anything I want.’ You can’t squirm out of it now.”

“It’s not as big a deal as it sounds. I just program them to use a combination of magnetic fields and thrusters. Plus gyroscopes.”

“I bet you have your own bot at home at your beckon call. Oh, that was a hot bite,” Shelley said as she reached for her glass of water.

“Well…” he grinned sheepishly. “Really it’s just an annoying fetcher bot. Kind of a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t be so modest. You can make things happen.”

(to be continued)

Still looking at the scratches on the chamber, I said, “Don’t worry. It may be an older model, but it’s still tough.”"

“No, Falcon, not that,” Chura said. “I think something just bit me. This really hurts.” She reached to pull up the left leg of her overalls.

We all looked at the ground near her feet. There, slithering through the leaves, barely visible but for its movement, was a copperhead snake.

“Agkistrodon contortrix,” Chethra said.

“No, no. Wait. Don’t move, and don’t do anything threatening,” I said.

“Besides moving, I’m not sure how I would threaten a snake. I only know English and Mandarin.”

The snake, a scaly specimen about two feet long and four inches thick, was covered in shades of brown. As it moved toward Danetta, we remained stock still, but Danetta’s lip quivered when the snake wound its way between her feet. She finally exhaled when it rustled out of range.

“It’s hurting worse. Why would it bite me?” Chura asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “You must have stepped on it. Stay calm while we tip the chamber upright. Don’t worry. They aren’t usually fatal.”

“Thanks, but I don’t like probabilities,” Chura said.

Shouts came from behind us. “Over here, Sheriff, over here!” Dammit. We had company, and Wayne and Left Deputy were bringing it straight to us.

Danetta leaned against the bottom of the chamber while Chethra and I lifted from the top. Our feet slipped on the leaves at first,but once we reached the soil, we found good footing. Still, it didn’t move. We tried again, adding groaning and other straining noises, but couldn’t get it off the ground.

“Don’t you two ever learn?” the Sheriff asked, still out of sight.

“Sir, if you could have just seen this guy’s gun,” Wayne said.

“Sure, I’ve heard it before. It was bigger than any gun you’ve ever seen.”

“Not just that, but what it did.”

“Save it, boys. Where are the suspects?”

“Just down there, in the woods.”

The time chamber wouldn’t budge. Chura had sat down, obviously weakened by the snake’s poison.

“Come on. We just have to get in it like this,” I said.

“While it’s lying flat?” Danetta asked.

“It will still work. We just need to roll it enough so we can open the door.”

“Hey you! Stop what you’re doin’, now!” the sheriff yelled.

I pulled out the BFG and fired a shot that left him covered in leaves and black dirt. The sheriff stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide open. The smell of old, rotting leaves filled the air.

Chura got up and shuffled through the leaves to the chamber. We all pushed to roll it over.

“There.” I opened the door, and held it up. “You ladies get in first.” As they tried to lie down inside without squashing each other, I kept the BFG trained on the Sheriff.

“We’ll just be going now, Sheriff. Don’t mind us.”

I lowered my gun and quickly dove inside, letting the door slam behind me.

The sound of primitive handgun explosions filled the air, and bullets pinged off the chamber. The sheriff wasted no time once he figured I couldn’t shoot him. I hoped the older machine didn’t have any weak spots. Coming this far only to end up stranded would not do at all.

I lay on Danetta, back to back, while I worked the controls. The others lay on either side of her, also on their stomachs, barely overlapping her with a leg here and an arm there. There was enough space for four people to stand upright, but horizontally it wasn’t very comfortable.

More bullets. The deputies flanked the sheriff and emptied shotguns at us. He obviously had freed them, but their fear of the BFG had kept them hanging back until they knew it was no longer a threat. I imagined that we were inside the soda can atop a fencepost, good ol’ boys blazing away at it in backyard target practice.

“Falcon, hurry, you’re killing me here,” Danetta said.

“I’m working as fast as I can, ladies. Hang in there.”

The sheriff and his boys reloaded and fired more rounds at us. I could barely think with all the noise.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” Chura said.

Chethra tried to reassure her. “It’s a normal reaction. Don’t worry.”

“Is a ‘normal reaction’ to a snakebite a good thing?” Chura asked.

Everything was set. “Here goes.”

The shooting stopped. Blackness hit us, then blinding light. I saw the old lab again. We were back in our era.

Something felt different. I was more acutely aware of Danetta underneath me. I turned my head, then laughed.

We were all stark naked.

The ladies gasped, in what amounted to a collective, “What the hell?”

Chethra was the first to catch on. “Only what goes back can come back.”

“That’s right, unless it’s been programmed into the chamber before the jump.”

“The sheriff and his deputies are staring dumbfounded at four full sets of clothing,” Chethra said.

I chuckled, but not at what she said. I imagined what their six breasts looked like flattened against the chamber wall. A young woman had once flashed a breast from the passenger’s seat of a skyporter, and pressed it against the window. It was a remarkably un-sexy moment for me, and I imagined this would be about the same, only with many more breasts. Lucky for them and me, however, I was facing the opposite direction.

Just when we all thought we might get time to relax again, we had another hurtle. Lying around nude reveling in our escape wasn’t going to happen.

“Hey, I feel better,” Chura said. “I guess the snake’s poison didn’t make it through, either.”

“Nope, same rule applies,” I said. I didn’t show outwardy how relieved I was that she had made it through okay. I feared that people from eras gone were made of sterner stuff than we, and that she might succumb before we jumped. “Now, how do you ladies suggest we get out of this potentially embarrassing situation?”

They sent me out first, and then asked me to turn on the light as I left the room. I headed out front, almost expecting to see Theo out there, motionless but in rare form. Instead, I stood alone and nude, just like I did any time I visited a competitor’s darkened waiting room after a life-saving mission. I had programmed the chamber to return us outside business hours.

“Psst. Hey, Falcon.” It was Danetta, her head poking through the doorway. “Can you get us some clothes?”

“Well, I’m naked, too. How do you propose I do that?”

“It’s easier for you to cover everything,” she said.

“I’ll take that as an insult, thank you very much.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Just, try to find some way to get us something to wear. Please.”

Whatever we wore, we had a long walk to either my flat or — wherever it was they were staying.

“I need a little incentive,” I said, figuring that if I couldn’t flirt with her when she was already naked, then it was hopeless.

She pushed open the door to reveal a profile silhouetted by the light from the lab. I barely had enough time to believe my eyes before she stepped back and let the door swing shut. Even in that quick glimpse, I could tell she was a lovely woman.

She peeked back through the door.

“What size does everybody wear?” I asked.

A light sweater hung over the back of the receptionist’s chair. I fashioned it into a wrap around my waist and walked out the front door. It turned out to be a short walk to the nearest Walget, the world’s largest retail chain. Barefoot and naked from the waist up, my pride hidden only by an improvised baby-blue kilt, I got fewer strange looks than I expected.

Looking around, I noticed that the night sky was dotted with skyporter lights. More, it seemed, than I would have expected before I met Danetta.

I quickly grabbed a package of men’s briefs, a pair of synthdenim pants, and a rayon shirt — each its own shade of blue. The dressing room was the first privacy I had enjoyed since the motel bathroom. In fact, that day had been overcrowded with people I had never met before and never would again. Fully clothed again and looking amongst the women’s clothing, I at least drew comfort from the fact that the strangers in the store were from my own time. If they saw me as strange, then it wasn’t because of my skin color or my dialect.

After filling Danetta’s order for her and the other ladies, I picked out some synthleather sandals for all of us. I didn’t skimp here, because I knew we might be doing a lot of walking.

On the way to the checkout scanners, I saw a public display terminal. I searched for National Rivers. There, in all its meandering glory, was the Buffalo National River. Curious about Danetta’s note, I looked up the World Conservation Museum. As I hoped, a live feed showed the room where it was preserved under glass.

The hermetically sealed case was much larger, however, and it featured something entirely new: four pair of bib overalls and four flannel shirts in various colors. They were posed vertically, legs and arms outstretched. Nothing indicated that any names were associated with the clothes or the note. We were the time-traveling strangers who saved the environment, and this time, no jump plan had been filed.

One more question remained. Near the front door, I noticed a young male employee looking my way. If I asked him, I figured he would either look at me like I was a complete boob, or have me speak to a manager. I didn’t care. I had to know. “Could you tell me, where are your impact absorption shield emitters?”

“There are four along the front of the building, sir, and 10 mounted on light poles in the parking area. Walget cares about each customer’s safety.”

My God. What a sickeningly rote response. “How long have you been management, son?”

“Just got promoted last month.”

“Right.” I turned and walked toward the exit.

We did it. We had taken on the 20th century and won.

“They’re tested regularly, to ensure we’re providing maximum coverage,” the young man called after me.

I’d hate to be the one testing them.

I turned and shouted over my shoulder, “Thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make three naked women very happy.”

I drove past the trailhead parking area and cut the steering wheel hard to the right. The Scout bounced hard, lifting all of us off the seat. Chura, the lightest, yipped as she hit her head on the bare metal roof of the cab.

“Falcon, the azaleas!” Danetta yelled.

We flattened them, and anything else between us and the time chamber, which we had tucked safely below a hillside not far across the line between the clearing and the heavily wooded forest. Within minutes we would be on our way back to our era.

“Chura’s unconscious,” Chethra said.

Chura was slumped over Chethra, moving only with the Scout’s pitch. I turned my attention back to driving. As we approached the tree line, I stopped the Scout slowly to avoid throwing Chura forward.

Danetta patted Chura’s face while Chethra held her upright. “Come on, baby, wake up,” she said. “We need you ready. We’re here. We’re just about to make the jump.” Then, to Chethra and me, “She’s still breathing.”

In a voice so soft I at first thought someone else had joined us, Chethra said, “My dear Avelia. It’s your mother. Wake up so we can go. Your strength has inspired me, and I know you can do this.”

Her eyes stayed closed. Avelia?

I heard an engine roar and looked back to see the cops, now on the road again, headed our direction.

“We can carry her,” I said. “The chamber doesn’t care whether she’s awake. We can get her to a doctor when we get back.”

They agreed. Chethra grabbed the BFG from the floorboard and handed it to me. “Cover us,” she said.

“What did you watch on that Zenith last night after we went to sleep?” I asked. I had seen a few police show replays from that era, and from the sound of her, Chethra had watched one.

We moved as fast as we could, me pulling up the rear and looking over my shoulder. When the cops pulled into the parking area and started a foot pursuit, I urged the ladies to move a little faster. It was very close now. I saw the trail of matted down leaves, laid flat the day before as we dragged the time chamber out of sight. Only 20 more feet and we would be there.

A shot hit a tree in front of me, to my left, sending bark into my face. Unlike their boss, these deputies were not firing warning shots. No doubt when he radioed them he let them know he lost us, and they had no plans to let the same happen to them.

I could see down the wooded hillside now, and I looked to the spot we had left the time chamber.

Danetta pointed there. “Falcon, isn’t that where it should be?”

“That’s it,” I said.

“She’s waking up,” Chethra said.

“What’s going on, guys?” Chura asked. “Oh, my head.” She reached to touch it, but her mom stopped her.

I turned to see the cops getting too close. I leveled the BFG and shot the ground in front of them. An airborne wall of leaves and dirt rained on them. Obviously acutely aware of my weapon’s destructive power, they stopped where they were and raised their hands. Their guns thumped on the ground. The awe and wonder in their faces told me that, although they had been scared out of their wits, they wanted a BFG.

I was upset that they had got such a close look at the gun.

“It didn’t even make a sound,” Left Deputy said.

Right Deputy nodded his head slowly. “That was cool.”

I launched into my best Theo. “Now, you boys best be leavin’ us about our business. No, tell you what. Both of you, lean over to touch your toes.”

Left Deputy met the request with an impressive performance. He kept his knees almost perfectly straight as he leaned down and introduced his fingers to his shoes.

Right Deputy, however, was a much rounder man. He didn’t get far before he had to stop, lean up, and take a breath.

“You got some of them handcuffs?” I asked.

“Aw, shit, not again,” Right Deputy said.

“I told the ladies here I didn’t plan to shoot nobody, but if you don’t do as I say, I reckon your Sheriff will have your hides. And I don’t just mean he’ll whip ya. I mean your hides will be the only thing left.”

I let that sink in.

“Now,” I went on, pointing at Right Deputy, “you handcuff your arm to his leg. Don’t care which. Just do it.”

“Go on, Wayne, gitcher cuffs out,” Left Deputy said, dejected.

The other deputy, Wayne, handed the cuffs to his partner, then lay on the ground. He extended his left arm and winced as the cuffs snapped over his wrist, then over Left Deputy’s right ankle.

“Now you tighten those down real good,” I said. “I figger the only way you can follow us is if you can carry that big feller,” I said, pointing to Wayne. I turned to Danetta. “Darlin’, could you fetch their pistols?”

“Hey, Falcon, I see it!” Chura said. While I had been dealing with the bumpkins, she had walked a little farther down the hill.

“Know what, boys? You got another set of them cuffs, right? One of you go ahead and cuff yourself to that little tree right there, then throw me all your keys.” They did. “Now, if you somehow git yourselves out of that, you’d best stay put until we’re well out of sight. This here gun’s gotta helluva range, and a wide pattern settin’ you wouldn’t believe.”

As we walked toward Chura’s find, I kept the BFG on the cops until the hill blocked my view of them.

Obviously, somebody had moved the chamber. Though it was tough, it was not indestructible, and I grew more tense with each step. My mind raced. Who moved it? What did they do to it?

It still lay on the ground, as we had left it, but something was different. On the door were two sets of five scratches. I had seen it before, but not in person. Only one animal out there was strong enough to move the chamber by itself.

“A bear did this,” I said.

“Shit,” Chura said.

(continue to The End)

“Hi, I’m Chura.”

“It’s my pleasure,” said the boy. “I’m Nathan, but please call me Nate. All my friends do.”

Chethra stepped up and put her left shoulder between the two youngsters, her right hand outstretched. “Hello, Nathan,” she said. Nathan offered his hand and they gave each other a customary two or three pumps before letting go.

“You have to watch her. She’s not big on nicknames,” I said. “Are you, Sweet Bread?”

She appeared to ignore me. “Nathan, I’m Chethra, Chura’s mother. That’s my sister Danetta, and our esteemed guide here is Billy Boy,” she said.

Chura worked to move her mother aside, but she was too slight to budge her. “Nate, that’s Falcon.”

“Cool name,” Nate said.

Danetta, oddly working to tie the canoe’s lead rope to a tree, chimed in. “Excuse me, but now that we’re all monikered up, and my sister has established that she’s the mother, the father –”

“And the Holy Ghost?” I finished.

Chura and Nate laughed.

“My point is, let’s stop talking and start moving,” Danetta said.

Nate left his bike and led us up the steep bank. It was hard to find solid footing on the ground’s thick blanket of old, dry leaves. We had to grab saplings to keep from sliding into each other. Once we topped the first eroded, earthen overhang, we adopted a zig-zag travel pattern to minimize slippage and to keep ourselves from tiring too quickly.

Chura and Nate walked point with Chethra close behind. Danetta and I hung back a bit and helped each other. We weren’t in shape like the others. After about 20 minutes of that, I spoke up. “So, Nate, you said that a trailhead is ‘real close.’ Exactly what did you mean by that? I haven’t even seen a trail yet.”

“Oh, we aren’t gonna use the trail. It shouldn’t be more than about ten more minutes.”

“People from the past should get a new definition of ‘real close,” Danetta muttered.

She and I discussed Nate’s motorcycle, imagining him making several trips back and forth to ferry each of us to our destination. That created two undesirable situations: drawing attention with the engine noise and splitting up the group.

“And there’s no guarantee that once he got Chura on the bike he wouldn’t try to whisk her away,” Danetta said.

“You told me about the other ladies’ past. What about yours?” I asked.

“It’s checkered.”

“I knew that much. I meant with men.”

“I never married. I guess in a way I was a spoiled princess, and when men I dated felt like they knew me well enough to stop treating me like one, I dropped them.”

“You bitch.” There you go, deflecting a serious moment with humor.

“Thanks.”

We walked for a minute with only the crunching leaves interrupting the awkward silence.

“I do feel like there’s something between us, but I can’t talk about that right now,” she said.

“I understand.” Experience with former girlfriends had taught me that using as few words as possible was the best course.

Finally we reached a narrow forest road. Tall grass growing between its tire ruts, it looked like a lonely path. One vehicle was parked in a small clearing. Large patches of rust interrupted its oxidized blue paint job. On the rear, in raised lettering, were the words “International Scout.”

“You folks are in luck, if you can get her started.”

“No problem,” I said. Chethra rolled her eyes.

For seating, the Scout offered only a bench seat across the width of the narrow cab, and nothing in the back. Unlike the Jeep, it was more like a shortened pickup.

“Four of us can’t fit in there,” Chethra said.

“You folks ain’t had much experience with trucks, have you?”

“Some much less than others,” Chethra said.

“A couple of us will have to ride in the back,” Nate said.

“Us?” Chura asked. Her tone rose in hopeful anticipation.

While Nate spent all of 20 seconds convincing us to take him as our guide, I got started hotwiring the Scout. A rusty toolbox behind the seat, while not as well-stocked as the one in the Jeep, provided the tools I needed. Apparently owners of four-wheel-drive vehicles in that era knew that even a small complement of tools could mean the difference between making it home for supper or taking a very long walk.

The engine turned over several times, but it would not start. “Dammit!” I shouted. We were under more pressure than merely answering the evening dinner bell.

“Did you choke it?” Nate asked. He showed me a pull-choke on the dashboard. I used it and got the engine running.

Nate and Chethra, my two most reliable sources of navigation information, rode up front with me, while Danetta and Chura occupied the open-air truck bed.

It was slow going on the bumpy road, and the sharp turns and proximity of trees made it obvious that we had the right type of vehicle. We met nobody on the way out, but we saw several deer grazing on the grass in the middle of the road. I heard Chura give a shout of, “That sweeps!” after a particularly large group of the graceful creatures sprang away from us, seemingly oblivious to the obstacles that would have entangled a running human.

There was no sneaking up on wildlife in the Scout. Its exhaust system was very loud, and my frequent grinding of the gears frightened off anything that didn’t mind the engine noise.

“Are there many other roads like this one?” Chethra asked.

“A bunch,” Nate said. “Most of these old roads were made by loggers. This is all second- and third-growth forest.”

I was surprised to find myself growing tired of our sun-dappled surroundings. I longed for more stark, sterile environs, and became so immersed in the idea that I forgot my audience. “My kingdom for a skyporter in the clear blue,” I said.

“What?” Nate asked.

Chethra’s elbow stabbed my ribs.

“Nothing,” I said.

“What was it that lady was sayin’ about my dad? Like killin’ him would be the end of the world. Chura told me you folks ain’t from around here.”

I wondered what two teenagers from such distant eras would talk about on a stroll through the woods. How much had she told him? Whatever it was, she had fueled his fervor for our cause. Grilling him about it now would only make him question his wisdom.

“She was just concerned about any of your father’s potential descendants,” Chethra said. “We were there to help your family, and she obviously thought Mr. Falcon’s reaction was counterintuitive to that effort.” True enough.

“You probably think I can’t understand you, but I can. My parents made sure I ain’t gonna be some dumb redneck even though we live in the sticks.”

“I would never suggest otherwise,” Chethra said.

The look on Nate’s face told me he wasn’t sure how to take that remark. Given my short time around Chethra, I could have provided a clue.

The rutted way finally fed into a larger, gravel road that made for faster driving. Within a few minutes we reached asphalt. “Highway 21,” Nate said. According to his guess and Chethra’s memory of the map, we were only a few miles from the road that would lead us to the time chamber. I checked on Chura and Danetta before I turned onto the pavement. They said they would be fine.

The Scout’s engine screamed when I tried to make it go faster than 50 mph. Afraid I would damage it, I backed off a little.

“Okay, Falcon. Cave Mountain Road is just a little ways up,” Nate said. The road would be on our right, about 30 feet short of a bridge over the river, he said.

“The authorities will be waiting at that bridge,” Chethra said.

“They won’t know our vehicle, and I’m hoping by the time they realize who we are, we’ll have a large enough lead to outrun them,” I said. I downshifted to slow the Scout. “Nate, I can go ahead and pull over to let you out.”

“Why?” Nate asked.

Because we can’t have you seeing our time machine.

“It’s way too risky to take you with us.” That was true, too. It could be Nate, not his father, whose survival determined the eventual birth of George Beers.

“But I’m finally havin’ some real fun, Falcon.”

I pulled the Scout over and held the clutch down while I pumped the accelerator. Theo had taught me never to trust the idle when I was in a hurry.

“Trust us, Nathan. You need to get out now,” Chethra said.

He sighed, but did not whine; her serious tone and look had convinced him. He reached across Chethra to give me a firm handshake. “Good luck to you.” Then, to Chethra, “You too, ma’am.” He opened the noisy door and jumped out.

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see him shaking hands with Danetta. When he offered his hand to Chura, she leaned down and pulled him in for a quick hug. What had those two talked about during our walk? I definitely would have to bother her about that later, if we made it.

Chura and Danetta got up front and we all squeezed in tight to make a fit. As we pulled away, there stood Nate, waving his entire arm to say goodbye, getting smaller by the second.

I made out a Deputy Sheriff’s car parked at the end of Cave Mountain Road, apparently vacant. As we got closer, I saw two uniformed officers on the bridge, no doubt on the lookout for a canoe bearing odd-looking strangers. They didn’t look our way until I turned and headed down the dirt road. They showed no signs that we were any concern. I kept us moving, nice and smooth.

“Um, Falcon,” Chura said. “They’re walking to their car.” She had her head turned to track their movements. “Now they’re at their car. Okay. They’re getting in. Shit! Now they’re coming this way.”

I hit the gas on the Scout and went as fast as I could while retaining control. I hoped the police cruiser wouldn’t handle the narrow, winding road as well as our sure-footed ride.

I accidentally slammed the gearshift knob into Danetta’s knee while switching to third. “Ow. Shit!”

“Sorry. It’s a little crowded in here. How come everywhere we go, it gets so damn crowded?”

“Just go, Falcon. They’re coming after us!” Chura said.

I had been chased enough in two days to last a very long time.

“I’m ready for this to be over!” I hit the steering wheel on the last word. “No offense, ladies. You’re all just peaches, but this shit got old yesterday.”

“Hang in there, Falcon, please,” Danetta said.

The Scout was not a speedster, but I knew that we had a chance. The road’s hairpin turns and steep, washed-out sections would slow down the deputies while we kept a brisk pace. There were some spots I wasn’t sure a street vehicle could navigate at all. Our problem was the driver; I was okay, but I hadn’t driven those kinds of vehicles enough to know their limitations.

I took the first tight curve too fast. The Scout fishtailed and, panicked at the thought of plummeting into a ravine, I overcorrected and nearly sent us into the cliff wall on the opposite side.

“Alive. Get us there alive,” Danetta said.

We made it to the top of the mountain without seeing the cops again. We all relaxed a little as the road got straighter and smoother. I took us as fast as I could handle, covering a few miles with no pursuers in sight. I thought we were set. Just keep it on the road and get us the hell out of 1970.

“Falcon, they’re catching up to us,” Chura said.

“What?”

“They’re gaining.”

I gave it more gas.

“Falcon, give me your gun,” Chethra said.

“Chethra!” Danetta said. “We’re not killing anybody!”

“We might need to do something to slow them down,” Chethra said. “Mr. Falcon?”

“I’m keeping both hands on the wheel. Somebody’s going to have to get it.” I leaned to the right and straightened my leg as much as I could without putting the pedal to the floor. “It’s in this front pocket.”

“We’re not shooting at anybody!” Danetta said.

“I’ll just create a diversion. Just get it and hand it to me.”

Danetta was not backing down. “No. If you want it, you’ll have to get it.”

Chethra huffed out a breath of impatience, then leaned over Chura and Danetta and wrenched the BFG from my pocket. Her hand wasn’t very precise and I felt a bit violated.

The cops reached the tail of our dust wake.

“If you’re gonna fire that thing, you need to hold it with both hands,” I said. “Just like the real cops do in the replays.”

Chethra worked to turn herself around, stepping on Chura’s feet in the process. She leaned out the window and fired the BFG. I heard the crack of a large tree trunk, and in the rear view I saw an oak fall onto the roadway. The cops steered around it by going into the opposite ditch, but it slowed them down a bit.

“Damn nice shot, Sweet Bread!”

“Mom, that sweeps!”

“Thank you, but I was way off the mark.”

The cops shot back. Chethra ducked inside the cab, on the other ladies’ laps.

“My God, those things are loud,” Chura said. “Is everything in this era powered by explosions?”

“Pretty much, or by fire,” I said.

A shot shattered the passenger’s side view mirror. Everybody but me ducked their heads into their laps.

“Not far to the trailhead now,” I said. “They’re still gaining on us, but unless they get more accurate with their guns, I think we’ll make it.”

Chethra aimed the BFG straight out her window and fired. A huge tree split with a loud crack and fell behind us, crushing saplings, this time blocking the road and about 20 feet on either side. I was sure I felt the ground shake under its weight.

“A little close on that one,” Danetta said.

“Now that’s a diversion,” Chura said.

The cops stopped and backed up their cruiser, their only choice to leave the road and find a clear path back to it.

(continue to Part 19)