by R J Johnson
The chirping returned, this time in a much louder volume and intensity. Whatever was happening, it sounded as if the aliens were having a serious debate.
Alex felt his confidence begin to ebb and began to wonder if he had just condemned humanity to never existing. The Patrons were an advanced alien species after all. There was nothing stopping them from taking the planet. Even if there were any human beings around in this timeframe, they couldn’t possibly stand against a species that had already mastered space travel.
The chirping stopped and the voice returned, booming through the darkness.
“You can save our planet?” The first Patron asked Alex.
Alex nodded. “I can and I will.” He found himself surprised at the confidence in his voice. Maybe he did believe he could stop them after all.
“Show us.”
Chapter Six
Kline stared at the pulsating black hole that sat in the Hong Kong courtyard. The time-traveling stone sat there, floating in its little black bubble, rotating around, flashing a bright purple light every few seconds.
He stared at the stone. It was so close, and yet, so far away. If he could somehow retrieve it from the swirling mass of energy, he could unite the stones and begin the work of remaking humanity into his image.
Kline reached for the stone floating inside the black hole as his hand began to tear itself apart. To his surprise, there was no pain. His hand stretched, the healing stone flashing wildly as he attempted to retrieve the purple stone.
However, it didn’t seem to matter how hard he pushed into the ball of energy. The closer his hand got to the stone, the further away it felt.
The nine stones in his possession began to glow brightly, as Kline summoned every ounce of will and power he had at his disposal to reach the time-traveling stone ensconced within the gravity well.
But no matter how hard he tried, or how far he reached inside, his fingers could not touch the stone that remained frustratingly out of grasp.
Screaming in frustration, Kline ripped his granite hand out of the black hole, a bright flash and distant roar filling the Hong Kong courtyard.
Kline stared at the black hole in front of him his mind racing to solve the problem. His eyes narrowed as he attempted to push his hand through to the stone once again. This time, he watched as his fingertips grew closer and closer, but still did not touch the stone. It was then he realized, he would never be able to grasp the stone where it currently sat.
“Zeno’s paradox,” Kline muttered to himself. No matter how hard or how long he tried, his hand would never touch the stone. Somehow, the time-traveling stone was protected by Zeno’s paradox. The space between his fingers and the stone would never close. Halfway to the stone was divided by half once again, and again, until an infinite amount of space filled the distance between Kline and the stone.
He sighed and shook his head. Kline needed to come up with a new plan to coax the time-traveling stone out of the black hole.
Which meant he had to find the last stone.
The task would be made much easier as there would not be anyone who could possibly stop him. Alex and his party of interlopers had disappeared into the black hole after the Battle of Hong Kong and hadn’t been seen since. Kline had attempted to use his stones to find Alex and his crew, but came up empty. The billionaire chose to believe that they had been killed by the black hole, ripped apart into infinite.
With the world’s leaders currently cowering away in their own hidden bunkers as they tried to formulate a plan to stop Kline, he had complete dominion of the planet.
The phone in his pocket began ringing and he removed it, opening the connection.
“Mr. Ash?”
“Mr. Kline, the President has requested a meeting.”
Kline cocked his head, “Tell her I’m otherwise engaged at the moment and if she has any other pressing business to take it up with you.”
“No sir,” Ash said, his voice flat and absent any trace of his personality, “The Vice President has been elevated to President in absentia of the President’s authority. He contacted the White House and asked for a private meeting.”
Kline felt a rush of glee go through his body. What the hell could his former partner be thinking? “What does he want?”
“He wished to discuss terms.”
“Terms?” Kline asked.
“Terms for the surrender of the United States.”
Kline paused, and then chuckled slightly, “Tell him I’ll take the meeting.”
“Yes sir.”
Kline disconnected the call, and closed his eyes, disappearing in a flash away from Hong Kong, and reappearing in his New York City office on the fifty-third floor of the new World Trade Center. He looked out at the city and smiled, secure in the knowledge that no matter what his old friend was about to bring to the table, he would finally exact his revenge.
Chapter Seven
The sound of breaking glass was louder than Scott anticipated and he winced at the noise, hoping no one had heard him committing his first felony. Fortunately, the neighborhood was still asleep this early in the morning and as best as he could tell, no one had spotted them.
Yet.
Scott reached in, and turned the deadbolt. He opened up the door cautiously to make sure no one was inside.
“Honey, I’m home…” Scott whispered. Christina grunted and pushed Scott into the living room.
“Hey! Watch it!”
“Shut it. You wanna announce to the whole neighborhood that we’re breaking in?” Christina growled, shutting the door behind him.
“There’s no one around for miles right now. Most homes out this far from the city are owned by flatlanders,” Scott said.
Christina wrinkled her nose at this, “Flatlanders?”
Scott glanced up, his face becoming red. “Sorry, that’s what, we locals up here call people who don’t live on the mountain. Tourists. People with second homes… that sort of thing.”
“And whose house are we breaking into? How do we know the owners aren’t thinking about an impromptu vacation?” Christina demanded.
“’Cause there’s only been one homeowner, and they’re not going to buy this place for another few months,” Scott said.
“How the hell do you know that?” Christina demanded. She was cranky, and tired, and literally out-of-time.
“Because if the newspaper we saw on the way in is accurate, Alex’s mother only just died. They move to Onyx a year after her death.” Scott replied softly.
Christina’s face fell.
“I didn’t know…” she said.
“Not your fault,” he said, standing up. “Let’s see what our water and power situation is like.”
He moved to the light switch on the wall flipping the hallway light on. “We’re in business.”
Christina followed Scott lugging their stolen food as they headed for the kitchen. “I wouldn’t think they’d keep power on for an empty house.”
“The realtors sometimes allow prospective buyers to come up for a weekend to see what living in the mountains is like.”
“And we’re sure no prospective buyers are coming?” Christina asked. She didn’t want to leave any room for error.
Scott glanced back at her, and sighed, “To be honest, I have no idea. But, if you have a better idea of where we can crash in 1987, I’m open to suggestions.”
Christina sighed. Scott had a point. Their entire lives were filled with danger these days. A breaking and entering charge would be the least of their worries.
“What’d you get from the store?” Christina asked.
Scott put the bags down on the kitchen counter and rummaged through them, pulling out two TV dinners. “Looks like meat’s back on the menu…”
“If you can call that mystery meat, actual meat,” Christina said, wrinkling her nose at the selection. “You couldn’t grab some fresh veggies?”
She reached into the bag and began pulling out the various items Scott had stolen from th
e small market. “TV Dinners, Twinkies, cupcakes…” she pulled out a cereal box, “Cookie cereal? That’s really a thing? Why not just grab a bag of diabetes off the shelf?”
Scott grabbed the cereal out her hand, and opened it, frowning, “What? It’s from my childhood. How could I NOT grab it?”
“Because you’re not six years old anymore….” Christina replied. She grabbed the least offensive TV dinner from the bag, and turned to the oven fiddling with the controls.
“Hey it’s 1987, so I’m seven years old right now,” he replied, sounding hurt. “And if you wanted better food, you coulda grabbed some.”
“I’m not sure your cleavage would’ve had the same effect,” Christina replied dryly. She turned the knob on the oven, pre-heating it. “Good lord, Salisbury steak at 7:30 in the morning. This ought to be greaaaaaaaaaaaat.”
Scott was about to tell her she didn’t need to eat, when there was the sound of footsteps above them. They glanced at each other, terrified.
“I thought you said this place was empty!” she whispered to Scott.
“I thought it was!” he replied, looking panicked.
Christina looked for a place to hide, but the lack of furniture made hiding difficult.
“We’ve got to bail!” she told him.
Scott nodded, and began gathering the food.
“Leave it!” Christina hissed. “We’ll get more later.”
“But I’m hungry now.” Scott protested.
Christina ignored him and grabbed his hand, and they rushed out into the living room, hoping to escape before whoever it inside the house spotted them.
“Christina?”
The voice came from the top of the stairs, where they saw Emily, her hair askew as if she had just woken up.
Christina’s face went slack with relief and she rushed toward her friend, grabbing her in a tight hug.
“Goddamn girl, it is good to see you,” Christina told her friend.
Emily hugged her friend back, “You too honey.”
“How did you find us?” Christina asked still clutching her friend tight.
“I sorta found myself coming here,” she replied. “Alex doesn’t move up to Onyx for another few months, so I figured his place would be safe to lay low while I figured out my next move.”
“Great minds…” Scott began. Christina shot him a look and he wisely closed his mouth.
The pair of friends separated from their hug and Emily glanced over at Scott who was waiting for his turn to say hello. “Good to see you,” Scott said the relief evident. “I didn’t think you two made it out of Hong Kong alive.”
“I almost didn’t,” she replied, reaching to pull Scott in for a hug.
“Where’s Alex?” he asked.
Emily’s face fell, and she stepped back looking at the ground. Scott felt the dread rise up.
“What happened?” Scott asked, fearing the worst. “Did Kline get him?”
Emily shook her head. “It was far worse.”
“What happened?” he repeated.
Emily looked back up at her friends, “He’s… gone. I don’t know where. But, when we were thrown back in time, something we did… I’m not sure how, but, we… we caused an accident.”
“What kind of accident?” Christina asked.
Emily turned and moved to the window. She didn’t say anything for a moment as she stared up at the snow covered peaks. “When we arrived, the flash, it… it caused an accident.”
Scott cocked his head, confused, “An accident? What happened?”
She glanced at Scott, tears welling up in her eyes, “We caused the accident that killed Alex’s mother.”
Christina’s eyes went wide as she rushed forward to grab her friend again in a hug, pulling her close. Emily began to weep openly now as a rush of memories flooded back.
Scott approached and gently touched Emily’s shoulder, “What happened?” he asked more gently this time.
“When we were thrown back in time, our arrival caused a truck to veer out of control, slamming into their car. Alex tried to help, but…” Emily didn’t bother fighting back the tears. “Once he realized what happened, he opened a portal with the time stone and disappeared. I don’t know where he is, or where he went.”
Scott drew back, holding a fist to his mouth, feeling terrible for his best friend. Alex never talked about how his mother had died, beyond a vague description of the accident. The fact that his friend now knew it was his fault that his mother had died must have completely thrown him off balance.
No wonder he had used the stone to get away from the accident.
“Where is he now?” Scott asked.
“I have no idea,” Emily replied, the tears beginning to dry back up. “But he gave me this.”
Emily reached into her pocket and withdrew the time-traveling stone, showing it to Scott and Christina. Scott’s eyes went wide.
“You still have the stone!” he said, backing away as if Emily held a snake in her hand.
Christina pursed her lips, looking down at the stone as if it were a particularly disgusting looking slug.
“We can use it to fix everything, right?” Emily asked Scott. “You’ve used this one before, right?”
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t dare touch it again with a ten-foot pole,” Scott said, shaking his head. “That thing is the biggest danger to humanity since the neutron bomb.”
“We have to do something!” Emily said. “We can’t just stay here, waiting for Alex to come rescue us from whatever happens next. We have to stop Kline!”
The oven dinged, announcing it was preheated, ready for their meals.
Scott sighed, and shook his head, “Maybe, but for now, we’re stuck in the past, and I’m hungry. After we get some food in us, we can go about saving the world.”
Emily’s eyes were wet with moisture, and she shook her head.
“I can’t, I have to help Alex.”
“Help him how?” Scott demanded. “We have no idea where -”
“Or when,” Christina added.
“Or when,” Scott repeated, nodding along with Christina, “Alex is. For all we know, we’ve been trapped in an alternate timeline just by coming back to 1987.”
“And, that’s not to mention 1987’s Kline is still out there with his stone of strength,” Christina continued. “We do anything to tip that Kline off, and that’s game over for everyone. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would feel guilty about putting a hit on a couple of seven-year-olds.”
“But we have to do something,” Emily whispered.
“He left!” Scott thundered. “I love the guy, and he’s been my best friend for about as long as I can remember, but Alex has a habit of running off when things go wrong for him.”
“I don’t think that’s what this is,” Emily replied. “I genuinely believe he’s out there, trying to stop Kline right now.”
“We don’t know that,” Christina countered. “He could be lost in time now and we’d have no way of knowing.”
“Well,” Scott said, hesitating, “there’s always the letter.”
“What letter?” Emily asked, looking at them. “What are you talking about?”
“Not now,” Scott shook his head. “We pull the Back to the Future move. We make sure a letter is delivered to Alex before all this goes wrong and he’s better prepared to fix all this.”
“That’s… interesting.” Emily frowned. But she was beginning to tap her lips with a pointer finger, as if beginning to put the pieces together. “But what would the letter say? We wouldn’t want to risk another paradox.”
“I don’t think there will be a paradox,” Scott replied. “In fact, unless I miss my guess, our letter gets intercepted anyway by Kline. Tell future Alex where we are, and how to find us.”
Emily nodded, “That’s brilliant. In fact, I think you already sent the letter.”
“We did?” Scott asked, looking confused.
“You did,” she replied. “Alex and I found it in
Kline’s office.”
“Wait, Kline gets ahold of it?” Scott asked, sounding dumbfounded. He shook his head, looking sheepish. “I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“Oh but it is,” Emily said. “If we know Kline intercepts the letter, then we can tell him whatever we want.”
Scott smiled, and began nodding. “Brilliant.”
“I don’t follow,” Christina said, watching the pair of them.
“I do,” Scott said. “You want to leave Kline a trail of breadcrumbs that leads him off a cliff.”
“Exactly,” Emily nodded.
Scott grinned.
Chapter Eight
The steward was carefully preparing coffee for the newly minted president when Kline appeared in a flash aboard Air Force One. The steward gasped and dropped the French press, the glass shattering when it hit the floor.
“Pity,” Kline said, inhaling the scent of the coffee, “After you clean this up, please bring me a cup with two sugars and a touch of milk. I’ll be in with the President who I believe still takes his black.”
The steward couldn’t do anything but nod nervously to Kline. The billionaire turned and moved down the corridor to the rear cabin where the President’s office was located.
He entered the conference room without knocking, surprising the three secret servicemen who were standing guard inside the office. They withdrew their weapons, but before they could get a shot off, Kline waved a hand at the three guards, instantly ossifying their bodies into stone.
“Gargoyles were once thought to protect our cities,” Kline said, examining his handiwork. “I do believe these gentlemen would be fine additions to my new citadel in New York.”
He snapped his fingers and the three secret servicemen disappeared. Kline turned to his once former partner President Timothy Hutton and smiled. The President sat there, frozen in place by Kline’s stone of control.
“So, Timothy,” Kline drawled, taking his time to sit down. “It’s been quite a week.”
The door to the conference room opened and the Navy steward who Kline had bumped into when he arrived on board entered, holding a tray with his coffee.
