Instead of dropping to the floor the orb exploded into a shower of silver shards that looked like pieces of a shattered mirror. The shards dissolved into a holographic image of Tim himself.
Ethan stopped the video and took notes. He then rewound the footage and paused at the moment when the device was unveiled for the first time. There, on the stand next to the device was a tiny piece of white paper with black lettering that read: “I see you.” In the lower right corner of the paper he read the initials, “E.F.”
He uploaded a compressed version of the footage and sent a copy of it to Oliver. Minutes after he sent the message, his cell phone rang.
“Like I said before, they are on to us,” Ethan said, rattled. “Somebody in that room knows what we are doing. And who’s E.F.?”
Oliver’s voice was measured and mechanical. “I don’t care. Stop wasting my time. Go back and get the device.”
“Did you watch the video I sent you? There was a note. Next to orb. It was on the stand.”
“What note? What did it say?”
“I see you. There were some initials on there. In the corner. E.F.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then: “Go back and grab the device. Don’t contact me until you get it. Got it? Good night, Mr. Fischer.”
Next came a click on the other end of the line. Ethan put his hands on the workbench as the room went into a slow spin. When the dizziness stopped, he pecked in a few more lines of code at the keyboard and sent the changes to the bird’s artificial intelligence module. He unplugged the crow, set it back inside its cage, and carried the cage back out to the launch pad in the yard. After sending the cage back to the Convention Center, he returned to the workshop and laid his head onto the workbench.
* * *
He awoke to the sound of raindrops tapping against his workshop window. He ran his hand through his short brown hair and then scratched his beard and mustache. He struggled to his feet and burst out of the door.
The bird and the cage never returned.
He checked his phone. No new messages or voicemails. At that he reached over to the silver control box at the edge of the workbench and set the destination time to twenty minutes before the presentation started. He set the return coordinates and hauled out another electric crow prototype from under his workbench. On his way out the door, he grabbed a larger, box-shaped, gilded cage before returning to the backyard.
He set the cage onto the launching pad. He tucked the bird under his left arm, shoved a remote control into his shirt pocket, and crawled into the cage. As he crouched down, he shut the door. Although he once sent a rabbit forward in time as a test and it returned unharmed, this was the first time he tried the machine on himself. His right hand shook as his index finger hovered above the go button on the remote control.
Before he talked himself out of it, he checked his watch and hit the button. The bars of the cage burned red and his skin felt like it was being buffeted by thousands of airborne grains of sand. He slipped on his plastic safety goggles and drew his limbs in tighter. A sound like the rushing of a waterfall roared in his ears. It felt as if every atom in his body was trying to push away from every other atom. Just when he thought his ribcage would be vaporized from the inside, the light, the feeling on his skin, and the sound ceased.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes to a warm morning in his own backyard. The lawn, parched from drought, pleaded for rain. Smoke drifted in front of him and stung his eyes.
He craned his neck around to find the smoldering remains of his workshop. He kicked open the cage door and rolled out onto the grass with a crunch. With the crow still under his arm he bolted toward the workshop. The walls of the shop were skeletal ruins and the workbenches that remained were covered with gray ash and glowing embers.
His equipment was blackened beyond recognition. In front of the doorway of the workshop lay his charred electric crow. He pushed the crow over onto its side with his boot. Any chance of salvaging its video footage happened minutes before he arrived.
As he sorted through the debris, he spotted a metal box in the corner that looked out of place. He pulled out a worn shop rag from his pocket and opened the box with his free hand. Inside was a miniaturized power supply intact and unharmed. In between hacking coughs, he dragged it out and set it on the ground several feet from the workshop. He uncoiled the cables inside the box and set them aside. Although the larger cage was equipped with batteries like the smaller version, he had never tested a return trip on an object as large as himself.
Next, he gazed at the house and wondered if he could get into his basement undetected to retrieve more replacement parts. At his feet he discovered some of his burnt-up notebooks. He reached down to pick one of them up but it slipped through his hands like black snow. Halfway to the house he heard a door slam. He ducked behind an oak tree and peered out from behind the trunk. A man and a woman emerged from the house and in an instant he recognized the man as an older version of himself.
“What happened?” The woman said as she rushed over to the older Ethan’s side. She held onto his elbow and both wore wedding rings.
“This is payback?” The older version of Ethan said.
“By who?”
“Oliver Bannon.”
“You’re sure of it?”
“Oh yes. I haven’t heard from him in a while but if he didn’t get what he wanted he swore he would get back at me. Besides, today’s the big day.”
“The unveiling?”
The older version of Ethan nodded.
“But look! Your notebooks! And your equipment!”
“I can rebuild. We got spare parts in the basement. But let’s get you to your doctor’s appointment.” He motioned toward a Tesla Model Y in the driveway and opened the door for her. All the way to the car, she kept looking back as if she wanted to cry.
The younger Ethan glimpsed at his watch and waited until they left. He knew what he had to do. He withdrew the electric crow from under his arm and set it on a nearby tree stump. With a press of the button, he activated the bird and sent it on a roundtrip flight to the Convention Center. It was his last chance for success and in the meantime he would start winding new Tesla coils.
* * *
Ethan then dug up one of the gray round patio blocks that ran from the back door of the house to the workshop. He unearthed a clear plastic bag that held a brass key for the front door of the house. He bolted up to the door and unlocked it. Once inside the living room, he froze in his tracks.
Although the arrangement of the furniture was radically different, what disorientated him most was the color scheme—brown, burgundy, and green—which was a contrast to his current blue-and-white theme. In the kitchen, the dining set was new and there was a vase full of red, white, and pink roses. Along the wall ran a printed border made up of tree branches and miniature owls. The scent of a vanilla candle hung in the air.
And then it hit him. Rose lived here. How that came to pass he could not comprehend because up until this point he only knew her as a server that worked at a café he frequented on Tuesday mornings. Despite his many visits to the café, he had not worked up the courage to ever ask her out for a date.
He charged downstairs and found his second workshop. His cabinet full of spare parts was still there along with his barrel of spare wire. He plunged his hand into the barrel and yanked out a fistful of wire. He grabbed a pair of wire cutters and a coil winder and headed back outside.
By the time he returned to the outdoor workshop, set up his equipment, and rewired everything, the electric crow returned to the tree stump from where it had been launched. The crow dropped a silver orb gently onto the stump before settling down next to it. Ethan raced over to the orb, picked it up, and rolled it between his fingers. He pocketed the orb and picked up the bird. A feeling of exhilaration flooded his senses and he desperately wanted to watch the footage the bird recorded from the Convention Center. He was sure word of the missing device, the crow, and the pa
ndemonium at the Convention Center was already spreading uncontrollably by now.
He hurried back to the workshop and continued to fix the wiring. After plugging in more components and winding a pair of coils, he heard the sound of tires on asphalt. Convinced it was his future self again he scrambled to finish the repair. As the car pulled into the driveway, he made fast for the nearby woods again and crouched behind an oak tree.
“Hey you!” A voice called out to him.
Caught, Ethan peered out but hid the crow behind his back. The look on his future self’s face was one of amazement followed by a smile. The woman did a double-take and kept comparing the two of them. By now he knew it was Rose from the café.
The younger version of Ethan strode up to the workshop but stopped a few feet short of it. “If you let me finish up the wiring in here, you can flip the switch and send me back home. Whatever you do, don’t come in contact with me.”
Rose turned to face the older version of Ethan but was no longer amused. “Is this the day you retrieved the prototype?” She turned to face the younger Ethan. “You know this doesn’t end well, right?”
“What do you mean?” The younger Ethan replied.
“You picked up the prototype from the convention, right? And you’re going to take it back five years in time. But Oliver Bannon is only using you to further his career. He could care less about the consequences. Then. Or now.”
“If I don’t go back, he’ll kill me,” the younger Ethan said. His breathing became labored and heavy. His thoughts whirled about like a flock of agitated blackbirds.
“If you do go back, he’ll try to kill you too,” Rose said. “Who do you think burned down the workshop? He’s trying to cover his tracks.”
“He doesn’t succeed, does he? You two are still here…and I’m still here.” The younger Ethan looked at Rose and then at the older version of himself. He caught sight of a white Luminodyne work badge on his future self’s hip. “Hold it. You’re E.F. aren’t you? I’m E.F. for that matter.” He chuckled at the thought and walked over to the cage on the launch pad. “On my signal, flip the switch.”
The younger Ethan climbed inside the cage with the crow under his arm and the orb in his pocket. He closed the door, slipped his goggles over his eyes, and motioned toward the power supply on the ground next to the workshop. The older Ethan marched over to the power supply without a word and beamed as he threw the switch.
Again, the younger Ethan found himself in a whirlwind of color, waterfall sounds, and chaos. This time a chill overwhelmed him as his surroundings were bleached out to the point of nearly blinding him. On the verge of blackout, he clenched his eyes. Had he wired it up wrong? Was the current too low?
His skin tingled and with a bang, the noise ceased. Gasping for air, he looked up to see the yard just as he remembered it. The rain had moved on leaving behind a sky cluttered with more stars than before. He looked at his watch. It was ten minutes to midnight.
As he unlatched the cage and stepped out, he slipped off his goggles and surveyed his surroundings. Everything appeared to be the same but only by checking his phone would he be able to verify the date and time. He staggered back to the workshop, unsure of his footing. He laid the crow onto a workbench. Then he checked his phone. There was a missed call ten minutes earlier from Oliver, but no message.
In haste, he connected the communications cable to the electric crow and his laptop computer. Once he downloaded the video footage, he scanned through it at high speed until the moment the crow dove toward the theater stage to snag the orb. He froze the playback. There, in the front row of the theater, Oliver rose up from his seat along with the rest of the audience. Ethan could not tell if it was for a standing ovation or in shock that an electromechanical bird descended toward the stage in the middle of a high-profile presentation.
He let the footage play at normal speed again and just as the bird grasped the orb, he heard the sound of an approaching car outside of his workshop. He watched in rapt fascination for another minute as Oliver clambered onto the stage only to be tackled by security guards. He paused the video and peered out the window. Although he did not recognize the vehicle, he sensed it was Oliver. He patted the orb in his shirt pocket. He resented handing it off to someone who truly did not care about the innovations of the future anyway. He stepped outside and waited.
After the car parked in the driveway, Oliver strutted up to Ethan. Oliver was a redhead with pale skin, swept back hair, thin lips, and thinner eyebrows. He wore black pants and a navy blue overcoat with two rows of brass buttons running down the front. He had a prosthetic left arm covered in copper gears, rods, and rivets. The rods glided back and forth like shining pistons as he slipped a pistol from his coat and aimed it at Ethan’s chest.
“I see you have my prototype,” Oliver said with a stern gaze. “This should go quickly then.”
Ethan put his empty hands in the air. “Don’t kill me.”
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. At least not yet. Why don’t you hand over what is mine first, then we’ll see about the rest.”
“Drop the weapon,” said a familiar female voice from behind Ethan. He could hear footsteps approaching but trembled at the thought of turning around.
“And who are you?” Oliver barked as he pointed the pistol at a point behind Ethan. He shifted the pistol back and forth as if undecided on the best target.
Soon the woman stood next to Ethan and lifted a shotgun so that it pointed at Oliver’s chest. “I said drop the weapon.”
Ethan turned and saw that it was Rose. She wore a puffed white shirt and a ruffled black skirt with black boots.
Oliver remained unimpressed. “I’m here for my prototype. This doesn’t involve you.”
Rose winked at Ethan.
Ethan smiled. “No need for weapons. Here.” He reached into his shirt pocket and plucked out the orb. With a shaking hand he extended it out to Oliver.
“Don’t, Ethan,” Rose said. She pursed her lips.
Ethan let the orb drop into Oliver’s open right hand. He turned back toward Rose and gave her a wink.
Rose kept her shotgun aimed at Oliver’s chest. Her finger flexed just in front of the trigger.
Oliver clutched the orb in his fist and backed away. He kept his pistol pointed at Ethan until he made it back into his car. He shut his car door with a quiet click, grinned uneasily, and tore out of the driveway with screeching tires.
Rose lowered her shotgun. “Why did you let him do that?”
“Just because he has the prototype doesn’t mean he knows how to use it. It’s so advanced it’ll take him years to crack its secrets.” Ethan put his hands in his pockets and kicked a pebble aside with his shoe. “Besides, in the footage I saw, he tried to run up on stage and steal the orb before the crow flew off with it. My guess is that somewhere between now and then he finds it to be useless and spends the next several years obsessing over it. The video ended with security guards tackling him to the floor.”
Ethan wanted to embrace her, but it was not the right time in more ways than one. If they came in contact with one another it could set off a chain of unintended paradoxes that would not end well.
“Don’t let Oliver run your life,” Rose said tenderly. “He’s not worth it. You’re too talented. Use your skills for good, Ethan.”
Ethan did not know how to respond.
“Guess it’s time to send me back,” she said in a mournful voice. Her lips pouted. She brushed aside a lock of her wavy blonde hair.
“It’s okay. If all goes well, I’ll see you soon.”
She had a puzzled look on her face. “How’s that?”
“Tomorrow was Tuesday. Or is. It’s kind of relative depending on what time period you’re from.”
She wrinkled her brow.
He continued. “You remember the routine. You work at the café and I come in at eight o’clock in the morning, order pancakes and coffee every Tuesday.”
“About that…can I give you a coupl
e of tips before we go on our first date?”
Ethan’s heart just about burst from excitement. He put up a hand. “No. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want any of this…” He gestured around the yard and then at her. “To change. Let me find out the hard way.”
“Don’t wait to ask me out.”
Ethan shook his head. “No, the timing isn’t right.”
“It’ll never be right. You need to get out of your own way. Ask me. Today,” she insisted.
Just then her eyes tracked something in the air. She lifted up her gun again.
Ethan ducked and put up his hands to protect his head. “Wait! What is it?”
“You never should have made those owls.”
“What?” He turned to see what drew her attention. It was then he noticed a copper-colored object out of the corner of his eye. He turned to watch a mechanical owl take flight from a nearby sugar maple tree. As soon as it cleared the tree line it vaporized in a flash of green and copper-colored light.
She giggled as she unloaded the shotgun. While she meandered back to the gilded cage on the launch pad, she coyly looked back multiple times to see if he was looking at her. Once she was inside the cage, she gave him a thumbs-up signal and he ducked back into the workshop.
He watched through the window of the workshop as he threw the power switch. In an instant, she was gone. A momentary sadness blindsided him until he looked at his watch. It was Tuesday now.
* * *
That morning, Ethan seated himself at the café where Rose worked. He felt more hopeful than usual this morning, as if any inhibitions he had since last week about asking her out evaporated overnight.
She stopped at his table and poured him a mug of coffee. This morning her wavy blonde hair was coiled up in a bun and her green eyes were as radiant as ever. She wore a pale blue blouse with a black skirt and there was no sign of a wedding ring on her finger. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
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