Button in the Fabric of Time

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Button in the Fabric of Time Page 14

by Dicksion, William Wayne


  To Jan-3 and me, it seemed odd to be able to see and communicate with the Antons. There was a shrewd, calculating look on the face of Leyon, Ulto’s wife.

  Jan-3 whispered to me, “I wouldn’t trust her if I couldn’t see what she was doing.”

  I smiled at Jan-3 and said, “You’re not supposed to read minds.”

  “I wasn’t reading her mind. That opinion was arrived at by feminine intuition. I’m ready to go home, aren’t you?”

  I addressed Ulto. “Thank you for giving Jan-3 and me the knowledge your civilization has acquired. We’ll build our own time-travel devices, as you have taught us, and travel throughout the universe to benefit all beings worthy of being benefited, and restrain those whose intent is to do harm. Since you know everything we know, you no longer need Jan-3 and me. We want to return to Earth and do what we can to advance humankind. We’ll strive always to work in alliance and in unity of purpose with both the Antons and the Ergons.”

  Ulto now spoke aloud: “With the knowledge we received from you, we can clear the atomic radiation from planet Ergo and, with our advanced technology, we can do it in much less time than it took you earthlings to clean up Earth.”

  “Will you come to Earth to get the DNA, or would you like us to bring it to you?” I asked.

  “Thank you for the offer,” Ulto replied, “but we have changed our minds about using your DNA. Now that we have a way to clean up our planets and our bodies, we have decided to remain as we have always been. It will take time but, by perfecting our own bodies, they will be more acceptable to us esthetically.”

  This time Jan-3 winked and whispered, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”

  I took Jan-3’s hand. We bid farewell to the Antons and, while concentrating on the purification station on Earth, rubbed the button.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 23

  We arrived at the entrance to the purification station and immediately undressed and entered the purification tunnels at the same time. The tingling I had felt before was no surprise this time, and it felt exhilarating. Jan-3’s feminine beauty was always arousing. She smiled when she noticed my response; only this time she did nothing to hide the fact that she noticed.

  The dressing chamber had an area with full-length mirrors, and this was the first time in a long time that I had had an opportunity to really look at myself. I was surprised and pleased to see that my muscle tissue rippled under smooth, youthful-looking skin. Upon close examination, I found that the few gray hairs I had were gone, as well as the slight wrinkling I had acquired around my eyes. I remembered Roc-2 saying, when I went through the purification tunnel the first time, that I would have more energy. He was right—I almost never feel tired. Jan-3 watched me examine myself. I liked the admiring look she gave me.

  We dressed and went immediately to the chamber of the Council of Twelve. They were pleased to see us. Domer and his engineers had reported on their activities, but Roc-2 and the Council were eager to hear our story.

  Jan-3 expresses herself better than I, so she did most of the talking. We spent hours going over every detail. The Council sat fascinated, listening like children, as Jan-3 told the story of the Lōōg and how we acquired the knowledge to manufacture time-travel devices.

  I had thought that Roc-2 could never be flamboyant, but he spoke eloquently when he said, “Gus, you came to learn from us, but we have learned from you. You have brought back the courage we had lost. You have returned to us a sense of adventure, and you have made the whole universe our frontier. We would like both you and Jan-3 to become associate members of the Council.”

  “That is an honor greater than I had ever hoped to receive,” I said. “Thank you. With the knowledge Jan-3 and I have—I think I speak for Jan-3 when I say—we will work with you to make Earth the paradise we know it can be. As soon as we impart the knowledge we have received from the Antons, and from our experiences, to the libraries and to the builders of our civilization, I’m going to ask Jan-3 to be my eternal companion. I want her to go back to the Earth of my time, and marry me in the chapel in my hometown with my mother, father, and grandfather in attendance. All of the good people I knew as a child will be there. I want them to meet Jan-3, and I want Jan-3 to meet them.”

  Jan-3 ran to me, hugged me so tightly I couldn’t breathe, and said, “If that’s a proposal of marriage, my answer is yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “You have earned the undying gratitude of all humanity,” Roc-2 smiled. “As soon as you have recorded the information, take as long as you wish.”

  Jan-3 said, “We’ll let you know before we leave, but since we can return at any time, we’ll return to this time and work with you to explore the universe for habitable planets.”

  Jan-3 and I then went to a recording studio and recorded visually and orally everything Ulto had installed in our minds. We knew about things that I never realized existed. Thousands of volumes would be necessary to contain the knowledge, but only one computer chip.

  * * *

  Jan and I had our own travel buttons and carried them with us all the time, but we used only one button when we traveled together. We spent several nights discussing and planning our wedding. The only things we would take with us were our clothing, the buttons, and some special clothing and jewelry that Jan especially liked. We bade farewell to our friends in the thirty-first century. I took Jan-3 in my arms and thought of my living room on July 7, 2007, as I rubbed the button.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 24

  We were next aware of standing at my window in Los Angeles, looking at the cars going by on the street. Jan-3 was fascinated, jumped up and down in excitement, while I went to my phone stand and crumpled the message I had left, explaining what I was doing. I was thinking, It seems as though I left here ages ago, but I have returned at the same instant that I left.

  “I want to see everything,” Jan said, as she excitedly hugged me.

  “Come with me,” I said as I took her hand, leading her to the garage where I had left my car. “This is not like the keris you have, but it will take us to where I work, and I can introduce you to my boss and my fellow engineers. . . . Just a moment! I’m forgetting to pick up my briefcase.”

  My car fascinated Jan-3. The streets, the houses, the traffic—everything fascinated her. I think the freeways frightened her a little, and the noise of the traffic assaulted her ears. We arrived at the office as the workday was beginning. When I walked in with Jan-3 on my arm, everybody stopped working and stared. I introduce her all around as Jan-3.

  One of the men said, “She’s gorgeous! Where did you find her? Surely you didn’t find her at Castle Rock?”

  Not wanting to go into the whole story at that time, I replied. “Nah, something just dropped out of the sky, hit me on the hand, and she is the result.”

  “Well, if you ever get caught in a rain like that again, let me know. I sure want to be with you, and I won’t bring an umbrella.”

  The girls all gathered around Jan-3, wanting to look at her dress and her jewelry. They had never seen material like the fabric of her dress, and her gemstones astonished them.

  “Where do you do your shopping?” one of the girls asked.

  Another girl whispered, “Her family must be wealthy.”

  Joe, my boss, came hurrying out of his office and grabbed my arm. “Come with me,” he said, “I want to hear about how things went at the Castle Rock Hotel.”

  Jan-3 was pleased by all the attention and was smiling. She nodded to me, indicating she was doing okay, so I went with Joe. As usual, Joe wanted to talk business.

  “You must have made a good presentation; the sales crew got a signed contract, but where did you go? Everybody wanted to buy you a drink and talk. They said you went to your room and didn’t return.” Joe looked through the glass partition at Jan-3, and said, “After seeing that girl, I think I understand.”

  “It’s a long story, Joe, but can I tell you about it over a beer another time? I’d like to introduce
you to my future wife.”

  Joe looked stunned, then said, “Ah, come on, Gus, what’s the joke? You’re not the marrying kind. You’ve got a string of women. Why would you want to get married?”

  “After you meet her, you won’t ask that question,” I laughed.

  “Well, come on; this I’ve got to see.”

  Joe saw the office staff all crowded around Jan-3 and said, “All right, everybody, back to work!”

  They returned to their desks, and Jan walked to us, smiling.

  “Jan-3, this is my boss, Joe Shannon. . . . Joe, this is Jan-3.”

  Again Joe was stunned into silence, but after a moment he said, “I see what you mean . . . she’s out of this world! . . . Have you set a date for the wedding?”

  I grinned when I said, “Joe, the description ‘out of this world’ is more accurate than you know. And no, we haven’t set a date. I want to take her to the farm and introduce her to my family. . . . I’d like a few weeks off.”

  He ignored me, took Jan-3’s hand, and started walking away.

  He said, “Jan-3, let’s get some coffee.”

  Jan-3 looked over her shoulder smiling, and asked Joe, “Can Gus come along?”

  “Yeah, he can come with us,” Joe said, “if he has enough money to buy the coffee and donuts.”

  Everything was happening so fast, I had forgotten that I would need money. I had to check to see if I had my wallet. Luckily, I had remembered to put it in my pants pocket, and it still had money, my driver’s license, and my credit cards in it. I’d have to get used to paying for things again.

  We went to our usual coffee shop, a quaint little place with checkered tablecloths. The waitresses flirted with me, as usual, thinking that Jan-3 was with Joe.

  Joe and Jan-3 were talking about geography. Joe fancied himself an expert and wanted to impress his guest. He soon found that he had met his match. “Gus, you’ve got to bring her over to my place for dinner; I want my wife, Hester, to meet her.”

  I was getting a little tired of Joe dominating Jan-3’s attention, so I answered, “I’ll call you and set up a time.”

  “Why do you call this lovely lady Jan-3? Doesn’t she have a last name?” Joe asked.

  Not wanting to take the time to explain, I said, “Three is her last name.”

  Jan-3 understood my reason for not explaining and smiled. Joe cocked his head to the side, and said, “Gus, you’re never going to make it as a comedian.”

  After finishing the coffee and donuts, I paid the tab, took Jan-3’s hand and said, “Joe, we’ve got to go. We have to prepare for the wedding.”

  As we walked back to the office, Joe said, “I hope Hester and I are invited.”

  I said loudly enough for everybody to hear, “We’re going to be married at the little chapel in my hometown, and everybody is invited!”

  The girls surrounded Jan, wanting to talk about the wedding. My fellow engineers all congratulated me. After the excitement died down, Jan and I walked to my car.

  Driving home, I told her, “I’ve got to tell my folks that we’re coming. They’ll be eager to meet you. They’ll love you, but they’re going to be surprised to hear that we’re getting married.”

  I showed Jan my house and garden. Since we had returned at the same time I had departed, the food in my refrigerator was still fresh, so I made a fruit salad and a grilled-cheese sandwich. We ate, bathed, and rested, and then I called the phone number at the farm. Mother answered.

  “Hi, Mom! This is Gus.”

  “You don’t need to tell me your name, son, I’m your mother. Didn’t you think I’d recognize your voice? Good to hear from you, Augustus. Where are you? When are you coming home?”

  I had the phone on speaker so Jan could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “She sounds wonderful,” Jan whispered, smiling.

  “I’m in L.A., Mom. A special girl has come into my life, and I’d like you to meet her. When would be a good time to bring her by?”

  “This sounds serious! It’s about time you found someone and settled down. We’ll all be looking forward to meeting her. When can you get here?”

  “We’ll be driving, so it’ll take a few days. Would next Saturday be all right? We can be there for lunch.”

  “Wonderful! Your room is always ready, and we’ll tidy up the guest room for your friend.”

  “We’ll see you Saturday. Say hi to Dad and Grandpa.”

  “We’ll be waiting. What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Jan.”

  “What’s her last name?”

  “She’s a little unusual. She doesn’t have a last name, but she has a second part to her first name. It’s 3. I’ll explain when we get there. We’ll see you Saturday. Love you, Mom.” And I hung up.

  Jan was so excited! She grabbed me around the neck without warning, and we fell in a heap on the living room rug.

  “When can we start?” she practically screamed.

  “I’m ready now, if you are. We’ll have to drive through Los Angeles. Would you like to see a twenty-first-century city? I’ve lived in L. A. all my adult life, and to me, it’s one of the most exciting cities on earth.” Then I remembered what it had looked like after the bombs fell, and tears came to my eyes.

  Jan-3 saw the tears and looked at me questioningly. I explained.

  She squeezed my hand and said, “I can see how much you wish you could change what happened, but you know, it would be wrong for you to change anything. If we changed even one thing, it would change everything, and we have no way of knowing what the consequences of that might be. We know that in time it worked out all right. I think that at some time in the future, all of those people will have an opportunity to advance into a perfect world.”

  “I wonder how that will be done. Who will decide who will advance and who won’t?” I asked.

  “It seems reasonable to me,” Jan said, “that everybody will have a second chance. Each person who comes forward will know someone they want to bring with them and, in time, everyone will get a chance.”

  “How about some of the mean and demented people who have been responsible for the suffering and killing of millions? Will they get a second chance also?” I asked.

  Jan thought for a while and replied, “I think that everyone has, at some time, been loved by someone. That someone will want to bring them forward and give them another chance, regardless of the suffering caused by the one they love. To me, this brings to mind the concept of an all-loving Creator. Only an all-Creating Force could know the burden those despicable people carried. Perhaps their minds were warped, making them unable to love and care.”

  “I see what you mean. I’ve wondered if mean and greedy people were born that way, or did they learn to be greedy? I’ve observed that some greed can never be satisfied. I once knew a man with wealth so enormous that he and his family and the descendants of his immediate family could never spend all his money, yet he worked every waking hour trying to attain more wealth. I asked him, ‘What do you want?’ He replied, ‘I want more, and I want the satisfaction of knowing that I am capable of getting more.’”

  “Was he happy?” Jan asked.

  “No, not really. I’ve seen many poor people who lived happier lives than this wealthy man. The poor people were happier because they had friends and family who loved them. The poor ones loved their families, and had compassion for their fellow man. The rich man loved his family, but his first love was the love of money.”

  “We’ve had people in the thirty-first century,” Jan said, “whose minds became twisted. We’ve found that, with treatment, they can be helped. Sometimes it requires a change in DNA.”

  Jan’s comment was thoughtfully expressed and it made me realize that a lot of work was left to do, so I said, “After our wedding and honeymoon, I want to go back to the thirty-first century and work with Roc-2 and the Council. We’ll explore the universe to find planets suitable for people to live on, so that everyone who is worthy can build his and her own pa
radise. Before we go back, I want to tell my family where, and why, we’re going. I’ll offer them the opportunity to come with us, but I doubt that they’ll want to, or even believe, it’s possible. I’ll explain it so that, hopefully, they’ll understand.”

  “I’ll try to help, but I fear it will be too much for them to comprehend. . . . I’m glad that we’ll be driving to Stoville. I want to see the earth through your eyes. It will help me to understand the history of this time.”

  “I’ll get the car ready, and we’ll leave right away. I’ll show you Los Angeles on the way through and then we’ll spend tonight in Las Vegas.”

  Jan-3’s excitement was contagious.

  As usual, the traffic was terrible. After Jan’s concern about colliding subsided, she watched the passing scene and listened to my monologue. She particularly enjoyed seeing the fossilized remains of the prehistoric animals on display at the La Brea Tar Pits, but she was appalled by the smog and debris-littered streets, and shocked by the deplorable living conditions of the poor people.

  * * *

  We left the Los Angeles basin through Cajon Pass and drove out into the desert. Jan was astonished by the desert because, in the thirty-first century, this area was all green. We drove through the south end of Death Valley, and I told her some of the stories I’d heard about the pioneers struggling to get through the desert and mountains. She sat quietly and listened. Her eyes were serious, even pained at times.

  “I read the stories when I was still a child,” Jan said, “but they seem so real when you tell them. I can understand the stories so much better after seeing the places where the pioneers endured the hardships.”

  It was getting dark when we first saw the neon lights of Las Vegas. The lights radiated off the haze, weaving a magical spell. We had stopped in Barstow for lunch, but we were getting hungry again. After checking into a hotel, I made reservations for a dinner show. Jan-3 was eager to see the night life. She enjoyed both the food and the show, and then we strolled through the casinos. We didn’t gamble because for us, it would not have been gambling. We knew which number the ball would land on. We knew which card would turn up. We didn’t need money, and to take money under those circumstances would have been dishonest.

 

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