The Navigators

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The Navigators Page 10

by Dan Alatorre


  “It’s fair to say he has a lot on his mind.” Janice cleared her throat. “Considering the election and all.”

  Melissa sighed, staring at her coffee. “Dad’s always watched after me. For a long time, it was just the two of us.” She looked up at Janice. “And I tried to watch after him, too.”

  A smile tugged at Janice’s lips. “Am I getting your endorsement for the job?”

  “Janice,” Melissa leaned forward in her chair. “You’ve been dating my dad for a while now. If I don’t give you an endorsement, you’ll never get to first base with him.”

  “Ha!” I blurted. “Uh, excuse me. I need to, um… nothing.”

  “Sorry.” Melissa laughed, appearing to realize what she’d said. “You know what I mean. Give him a chance. Just don’t…”

  “Hurt him?”

  Melissa pushed her hair from her face. “That’s right.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m trusting you with a lot more than a story here.”

  Janice dropped her notepad into her bag. “I feel that way, too.” Then she added, “I think I ought to have a little chat with your sneaky uncle Troy, though.”

  “Go easy on him.” Melissa sipped her coffee. “He’s a tax attorney, not a trial lawyer like Dad. He won’t hold up under strong interrogation.”

  Janice laughed.

  The conversation went on that way, laughing and joking like two old friends. It was as if they had discovered a kindred spirit. In a way, I guess that’s what they were.

  * * * * *

  From the back seat of Roger’s car, Barry quietly slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped the volume to “vibrate.” Then he dialed Melissa.

  No answer.

  He sent a quick text. Call me.

  Maybe if she interrupted the test with a phone call, Roger could be persuaded to wait.

  Maybe.

  Roger drove, glancing at Barry in the rear view mirror. “Quit sulking. You know I’ll eventually test the time machine anyway, with or without you. You have to sleep sometime.”

  “I want to test it. I just want to be safe. There are still too many things we don’t know.”

  “We’ve been thinking about them ever since we figured out what the thing is. We’re taking the precautions we can think of. Now, it’s time to test it again.”

  Roger pulled his car into the parking lot at Radio Shack.

  * * * * *

  As we walked across the USF commons, Melissa apologized. “I kept you so long! I had no idea, Peeky. Time just flew by.”

  “Like the way it does when you’re on a date and you find the other person so interesting, you don’t want it to end.”

  “I guess so.”

  I looked at her, the street lights illuminating her face. She seemed satisfied. Happy, even. Her smile hadn’t faded since we left the coffee shop.

  “That’s a good sign for you.” I put my hands in my pockets as we walked. “And for your father. After you, who else knows him better? If you like Janice this much after tonight, he must, too. He’s known her much longer.”

  “It’s sure something to think about.” She glanced at me. “You know a lot about relationships, don’t you?”

  I chuckled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but compared to you, just about everyone in the world does.”

  “What?” her jaw dropped. “Just because Roger and I- ”

  “Bah, Roger. I know there’s nothing between you and Roger. Not really. I’ve seen what’s been going on over the past year or so. You two are just – pardon my French – ‘F’ buddies.”

  She chuckled. “That’s not very French, Peeky.”

  “I’m not talking about that stuff, the superficial things. I’m talking about something real, with someone who actually cares about you. Like Barry.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  * * * * *

  “Where to?” Roger asked, adjusting the dark green welder’s goggles. Orange foam earplugs hung out of his ears.

  Riff snorted. “You look ridiculous, man.”

  “Almost as bad as you two, eh Barry?”

  “Where are we sending you, Roger?”

  “To Julius freaking Caesar, man. Ancient Rome.”

  Riff plopped down onto Barry’s couch. “What’s so special about Rome that you need to go there?”

  “Nothing.” Roger shook his head. “That’s the point. It’s a viewer. I go check in on Julius Caesar around the time he’s about to get whacked.” He put his hands on his hips. “We pretty much know the date. We definitely know the location. I can pop in and see everything, and come back, no muss no fuss.”

  “Cool.” Riff nodded. “Will that work?”

  “I’m not sure.” Barry chewed on one of his fingernails. “Something’s bugging me about this.”

  Roger rolled his eyes. “Hey, it’s a viewer. If I see anything, I come back and report. From that, we’ll improve our safety protocols and we’re on our way.” He grabbed the frame and swung into the seat, scanning the panel. “The Big Bang, the birth of Christ, you name it. Any significant event in history that we have a time and place for, we can see it happen.”

  “Yeah, I know. I know.” Barry patted his thigh. “I just can’t put my finger on it, but something’s… not right.”

  Roger sighed. “What’s the problem?”

  “When it comes to time travel, there are a lot of variables.” Barry paced around the machine. “You get these paradoxes, so what do you do about them? I apply the Theory of Definitions.”

  Riff sat up. “Like what kind of paradoxes?”

  “Like, you want to go back in time and kill Hitler so that no Holocaust occurs. So you do. You’re successful. But then we get to today, and there is no reason for you back in time to kill Hitler because there was no Holocaust. See? So you wouldn't go, and if you don't go the holocaust happens. There's the paradox.”

  “Okay. Paradox. Got it.”

  “The Theory of Definitions simply asks: how can everything in that situation be true?” Barry circled the machine, staring at it.

  “So you start out with, you know, World War II happened. The Holocaust happened. Your parents get together and you happen. And now here comes the time machine.” He dropped into the couch next to Riff. “In order for all the variables to remain true, you either can't go back in time, or you go back in time but the changes you cause didn’t change the outcomes we know happened—you were inconsequential, or you go back in time and you’re unable to cause changes.”

  Riff cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “Okay . . .”

  “That last one,” Barry tapped the arm of the couch with his finger. “That’s the Viewer Conclusion. You're just an impartial observer looking at the reflected light that existed at the time of the events, coming off the objects as they move, but you're unable to interact with them. You can’t make a difference, just like a person watching a movie sees the actors on the screen but can’t change what is happening.”

  Riff chuckled. “Dude, I am so lost.”

  It didn’t matter.

  “And realistically, if you go back in time and are not a viewer, time is relative.” He got up and paced again. “So maybe you go back and you see all these things that might take place over hours or days for you, but to them you might only appear for 1/16th of the second—a little blip—and you may witness wondrous things, but to them it’s just a flash—they think they see something out of the corner of their eye, and when they look, there’s nothing there.” He turned and smiled at Riff. “That’s Blip Theory. That’s really the most plausible…”

  Roger climbed out of the machine and went over to the computer.

  Barry glanced at him. "What are you doing?"

  "Finding out where all this Theory of Definitions and Blip Theory stuff came from." Roger typed for a moment. Riff watched from over his shoulder.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Barry walked into the kitchen to grab another Diet Coke. He glanced at his cell phone. Nothing from Meli
ssa.

  After an unsuccessful two minutes, Roger turned to look at his friend. "There’s nothing on either of those topics. What, did you come up with that stuff yourself?"

  "Um...yeah. It’s the most plausible, based on… you know, the science."

  Roger climbed back into the time machine. “Barry, sometimes you scare me.”

  “Yeah, well.” Barry took a sip of his soda. “You scare me all the fucking time.”

  “You’re stalling. You just want Missy here.” Riff stared at Barry. “Are you afraid she’ll be pissed when she gets back and sees we took a trip without her?”

  “No.” Barry sighed, slumping back into his chair. “Well, maybe.”

  “Dude, you’re letting the little head do the thinking for the big head.” Roger checked the grip on the side levers. “She and Peeky aren’t here, big deal. Riff missed a test, too. Hell, we’ll all miss a test sooner or later, myself included. But we have to test. We’re scientists. It’s in our DNA.”

  Barry rubbed his chin. “I feel like we’re rushing. Like I’m forgetting something.”

  Roger leaned forward on the metal seat and started adjusting the panel dials. “Riff, hand me the coordinates we got from the GPS.”

  “Roger’s right, Barry. Melissa being here wouldn’t make a difference.” Riff picked up some notes from the table and handed them to Roger. “What would she add right now? Except to make you want to show off for her or something.”

  Pushing himself up straighter on the cushion, Barry sighed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I don’t know, do you think a girl like her and a guy like me could ever…”

  “No.” Roger shot from the cockpit. “No chance. Melissa’s dad’s about to become mayor. From there, it’s just a short step to Governor. And if that goes well, he’ll run for president.” Roger sat back, shaking his head. “Damn. President of the fucking United States. He’d run, and he’d probably freaking win. And you think during all that careful planning, he’ll have his precious daughter dating a rock duster like you? Making no money and spending all your time out in the middle of nowhere for months at a time?” He turned his attention back to the dials. “It’s not in the cards, bro. Missy’s a chip off the old block. She’ll pair up with a south Tampa lawyer that her dad approves of. Somebody with money and a future that meets the expectations of Mr. Mills.”

  * * * * *

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed the way he looks at you.”

  My tiredness was getting the better of me. It let my mouth say the things my eyes had observed for months. “The way Barry goes out of his way to be around you. The way – just the other day, when you agreed to go on the trip to the mine, he picked you up and twirled you around.”

  “Peeky-”

  “I could go on and on. Why are you wasting your time with Roger?”

  Melissa tapped the steering wheel. “Roger and I… we aren’t serious. We haven’t been for a long time.”

  “Does Roger know that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...” She was quiet for a moment. “He should. No, he does. Deep down, he does.” She scanned the ceiling as she threw her hands out from her sides. “He’s just like, I don’t know. It’s just…”

  “Convenient?”

  “No. Maybe.”

  “Familiar? Easy?”

  “Stop it! We’re broken up. We’ve broken up a half dozen times. It’s just sometimes… I mean, I get lonely, and... sometimes I’m weak.”

  “You settle. An occasional side fling with a guy you thought had a girlfriend.”

  She let the words resonate and took a deep breath. Then she shot me a glance. “But you’re wrong about that other stuff. Barry doesn’t think of me that way.”

  I stared out the window at the passing street lights. “I’m not wrong. Open your eyes.”

  “Stop, already. This is too much for one evening. I was nervous enough meeting Janice for the first real time, now this. It’s too much.”

  “Fine. It’s none of my business.” I kept my gaze focused outside. “But don’t try to pretend.”

  * * * * *

  “You hid behind the couch?” Riff was incredulous.

  “Trust me, that’s where you want to be.” Barry bit his fingernail.

  “I think I’m all set here.” Roger looked over at them. “Let’s light this candle!”

  Barry ignored him and continued explaining the makeshift procedures to Riff. “The bright flash and the loud noise – that’s why we got the ear plugs and the welder’s goggles.”

  “Engaging gears,” Roger announced.

  Riff watched carefully as Roger moved the levers into place. “And it was-”

  The whining of the machine overwhelmed Riff’s words. He raised his voice. “And it was enough protection?”

  The screeching got louder. Barry shouted. “We didn’t have any protection the first time. We just videoed the clock, that’s all.”

  Then it dawned on him. He knew what he’d forgotten. “Oh, my God.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Barry waved at Roger. The noise quickly grew deafening, even with the earplugs. “Roger! Stop!”

  Roger glanced over, a blank look on his face. He gave a thumbs up. Barry waved his arms wildly.

  Then there was a brilliant, blinding flash.

  And Roger spilled out of the machine, covered in blood.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the ride was quiet. We’d inadvertently talked with Janice right through dinner without even eating. Maybe our exhaustion had caught up with us. Maybe we’d experienced enough emotions for one day. When we stopped at Radio Shack for the earplugs and welder goggles, Melissa just said “I’ll be right back” and went in without me.

  The ride to Barry’s felt even more awkward after that, but maybe I deserved it.

  I followed her up the stairs and through the door into the dark apartment. Melissa placed the plastic shopping bag on the table and flipped on the light. I spotted a note in Barry’s handwriting.

  “Took Roger to the ER. It’s serious. Call, don’t come.”

  Melissa balled her fists. “‘Call me?’ If it’s so serious, why didn’t he call me?”

  I glanced at the note. The words “don’t come” were underlined twice.

  She pulled out her cell phone and her face went flush. “Oh my God. I turned my phone off for the interview.”

  “You still would have noticed something if it was on vibrate.”

  “No, I turned it off off! So we wouldn’t be interrupted.” She pressed the power button. The phone began to glow as it powered up.

  It pinged with missed calls. “Call me” and “Barry 911” texts illuminated the screen.

  Then the voicemail icon lit up. Three messages.

  She pressed “play.”

  Barry’s voice shouted over some static. “Melissa! It’s Barry. Call me as soon as you get this.”

  The next message was the same. He was almost yelling, probably driving while he spoke.

  “Melissa! It’s Barry. We’re taking Roger to the hospital. To the ER. He’s hurt pretty bad, but don’t come to the hospital! Somebody has to stay with the machine, and you and Peeky can move it if you have to. It’s not heavy.”

  In the next message, he was nearly whispering, but just as intense.

  “Melissa where are you? We’re at the hospital. Roger’s in intensive care and I can’t take a cell phone in there. My battery’s almost dead anyway. If you get this in time, stay with the machine. You and Peeky can move it if you have to. If anything happens, just take it next door to Jonesy’s. She’s out of town and won’t mind, okay? I have to stay here with Roger because they won’t let Riff back in. I’ll update you when I can. Stay with the machine!”

  Melissa looked at me. “What do you think happened?”

  “Barry said Riff wasn’t allowed in. Call Riff, then.”

  She dialed quickly. “It’s going straight to voicemail. What the fuck’s with these guys?”

  “Leave a messag
e.”

  “Riff, it’s Melissa. Peeky and I are at the apartment with the machine. Call me.”

  She hung up.

  What the hell was going on?

  * * * * *

  “Are you a mass murderer or something?”

  Barry sat up, snapped out of his haze by a loud, authoritative voice in the ER.

  “How many friends of yours are you going to bring into my hospital all bloodied up?”

  Good god. Dr. Harper. Again.

  Barry stood and collected himself. “Good evening, doctor.”

  Dr. Harper ignored the greeting and glanced around. “Where’s that young lady and your other friend? You probably buried them in a ditch somewhere.”

  “No, sir, I – uh, we-”

  Harper folded his arms. “Yes, yes, go ahead. I’ll wait. Make it something more interesting than rock climbing, this time, though.”

  If you only knew, doctor.

  “What’s that?”

  Barry shook his head. “Uh, I was asking how’s Roger?”

  “He’s in rough shape but I think he’ll survive—no thanks to you.” Dr. Harper opened his clipboard, interrupting himself to glare at Barry over his reading glasses. “I’m starting to worry about that little group you’re running around with. We get those cases in here from time to time. Thrill seekers. People who like to wreck cars – with themselves in it. All for some kind of sick sexual rush.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “So you can finish the job?”

  “Doctor, please.”

  Harper huffed. “The only reason I’m going to let you see him is because he asked for you specifically. Otherwise, I’d be calling the cops. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Barry exhaled, weary of the give and take. “Thank you.”

  “Right through there.” Dr. Harper grumbled as he watched Barry walk toward Roger’s room. He folded his arms over his clipboard, muttering. “Bunch of sick mothers, I’ll tell you.”

  Catching a glimpse of Roger through the doorway, Barry halted and put his hands out to balance himself. The sight made his breath catch in his throat. Even with the room lights dimmed, Barry could see that Roger was all bruised and purple and bloody. His eyes were swollen shut. Tubes ran out of him to various machines.

  Roger slowly turned his head to the door. His hand, barely able to lift off the bed, motioned Barry inside.

 

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