The Amulet (The Time Chronicles Book 1)

by Michael Dodd

  Michael knew better than to argue the point. He raced to the stairs, meeting Gates on the way down. “I’m going to get Amber,” he said, “Go boil some water.”

  As Michael blew through the front door, Gates turned off the fire under the spaghetti sauce, pulled out the biggest pot he could find and filled it with hot water.

  ‡

  At LDS, Kenneth Graham was sitting in his office, contemplating an attempt to contact someone in the future. The Temporal-Data Delivery and Retrieval System was as ready as she’d ever be. He and a few trusted cohorts, including Gates Devaney, had run a series of tests in order to check on the veracity of the system. At first, they ran tests to see if the system would even work. Once they’d detected a computer system with the right temporal signature and a compatible mainframe configuration, they would send out short, prosaic messages and see who responded. The future receiving system would have no way of knowing they were receiving a message from the past; they would assume it was another computer on the network and respond. The messages were designed to illicit only the most truncated responses. “What time is the big game? When does the play start tonight? Tell Darrell I said, hello!” All these types of messages would receive a short response, if any, simply telling them they didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. That’s all it would take to discover the temporal signature of the computer system and flag it for future use.

  The second thing they needed to do was to be able to verify the time and date of the computer they were communicating with. This was easier said than done. It turned out to be the most complicated aspect of the whole system. However, with his knowledge of future computers and the extraordinary input of Gates Devaney, they managed to isolate the computer system’s IP addresses and bypass any Intrusion Prevention System Software. In essence, they use a “back door”.

  To date, Linear Data Systems had received over 200 responses from computer systems that were determined to be from technical organisms that were more highly advanced. From those, over 50 were determined to be from systems with software that, to their knowledge, had not been invented yet. From there, it was a simply matter of deconstructing the IP addresses and checking for temporal anomalies. Those that were confirmed to be futuristic systems were then flagged, categorized by type, and sent to LDS’s most sophisticated software to determine the time and date of the received message. Once that was accomplished, the flagged system’s IP address was stored for future use. Of the fifty or so future systems they’d managed to analyze, the timelines ranged from 25 years to over 500 years in the future. If knowledge was power, then knowing the future would be the most powerful

  information in the world.

  As Kenneth rested in his plush chair, with his feet on the desk, all of this had been completed. The only thing left was to determine which system to contact first and in what fashion to communicate their desires. You couldn’t just send a message that said, “Hey, we’re sending this message to you from 300 years in your past. We’d like you to send us all the information on your history, technology and politics. Pretty please?” It had to be approached in a much more subtle manner, unless they managed to run into the right person.

  He told Gates and a few others that he would make sure and wait until they were all here before making an attempt at direct communication, but a few whiskey sours and an impatient constitution later, Kenneth Graham decided, “What the hell! It’s my company, isn’t it?” and took his legs off the desk. “Access file: KG091662LD,” he said. Immediately, his computer screen was filled with the fiftyodd IP addresses of future computers and all the information they’d gleaned from each. He perused the list which was constructed with the nearest future date to the furthest. About halfway down the list, Kenneth stopped and accessed the file. Hmmm. This one’s from the year 2420, that’s 350 years into the future. Perfect place to start.

  While all computers in 2070 could easily be

  manipulated with voice command, Kenneth thought this was a little too personal to project into thin air; he’d use the keyboard instead. Quickly typing commands to bring his system into sync with its temporal IP address, Kenneth suddenly found himself with direct access to its message board. The title on top of the board said: OMNICORP.

  Now, what to say? Kenneth realized at this moment that he could have done without the whiskey sours. Let’s see. After a few moments, he began to type:

  I must say, I have been impressed with the accomplishments of OMNICORP. I have recently been advised to consider your company for an upcoming project. Would it be possible for you to send me a company overview and as much information as you feel appropriate?

  Sincerely,

  Kenneth Graham

  President LDS Corporation.

  There, that ought to do it. Let’s see if I get a response.

  ‡

  When Amber opened the door, Michael nearly fainted from relief. Had she not been there, he could not imagine what he would have done. For her part, Amber had just gotten out of the shower and was wearing a light blue terrycloth robe, her hair still dripping wet.

  “Amber, Cindy’s water broke!” Michael screamed, grabbing her by the arm. “She’s having the baby in our bed! Come on! Hurry!”

  Amber had been a registered nurse for 27 years. She’d seen it all. She’d also seen all the various reactions from patient’s family members, from outright boredom to utter panic. Michael’s reaction was clearly leaning toward the latter. “Okay, okay,” she said, calmly, “I’m coming.”

  In less than a minute and a half, Amber was in the bedroom trying to assess Cindy’s situation while at the same time, trying to get Michael and Gates out of the room. They were clearly going to be in the way.

  Quickly, Amber, an experienced neonatal nurse, felt Cindy’s abdomen to determine if the baby had its head down. Cindy’s continued prattling didn’t help the situation. She needed to calm down. “Cindy,” Amber said with calm assuredness, “Just breathe deeply. In and out. In through the nose and out through the mouth.” While Cindy was trying to follow her instructions, Amber noticed something that concerned her. She could see movement in the abdomen that didn’t look promising. There were indentations in the lower part of Cindy’s belly that looked to her like little feet. She’d seen her share of breach births, as well as recognizable imprints from various baby body parts, including the head, hands, feet and even buttocks. The impression she’d just seen led her to believe the baby was upside down. If that was the case, Cindy needed to get to a hospital, Stat!

  She went to the door and opened it. There, standing behind it was Michael and his friend, Gates. “Michael,” she said with firm conviction, “Call an ambulance! Cindy needs to get to the hospital, now!”

  Everything else that happened from that moment until Cindy was in the operating room for her C-section was nothing but a blur for Michael and Gates. Now that she was in the hands of doctors and at a good hospital, Michael’s concern eased a bit, but Amber, who stayed with the two men in the waiting room, seemed a little too nervous for his liking. “Amber,” Michael said, “She’s gonna be okay now, right? I mean, they know what they’re doing, right? They do this kind of thing every day, don’t they?”

  Amber smiled her best reassuring smile and said, “I’m sure she’s going to be fine, Michael. The baby was just turned the wrong way, that’s all. Once they do a C-section, they should be able to take the baby out with no problem.” Of course, Amber wasn’t as sure as she let on. The water had broken long before she had noticed the breach. Add to that, the time it took for the ambulance to arrive and get her to the hospital. She worried that the baby might have suffocated without the amniotic fluid.

  Michael looked at Gates and the two shared the same thoughts. He couldn’t ask him if he’d been delivered in a Csection or if he was breach. Amber didn’t know anything about time travel and they weren’t about to bring up the subject with her in the room. Nevertheless, both men sat in a fugue state, wondering similar things. Could

&nbs
p; Cindy/Mother die? What if the baby died? Would Gates/I simply disappear, vanishing from existence? Gates remembered his mother as a ten-year old child in 2080, ten years from now. She couldn’t die. Michael remembered Gates discussing how angry Cindy had been when he’d gone back in time from 2080. She was alive ten years from now. She couldn’t die. Neither of them could die.

  Less than an hour later, the double doors opened and a weary-looking, sullen sounding doctor emerged. His face bore the visage of a man with bad news. Michael, Gates and Amber rose immediately and stood motionless as the doctor approached.

  “Are you Mr. Xylon?” he asked. Michael didn’t ask anything. He just nodded, slowly, as if in a trance. “I’m afraid I have bad news,” the doctor began, “When the water broke, the child inside her began gyrating around in the womb, probably trying to breathe. Without the amniotic fluid to protect the baby and the mother, there was a large amount of hemorrhaging. I’m afraid Mrs. Xylon didn’t survive.”

  Michael sensed something was terribly wrong when he first saw the doctor’s face. Now, his facial expression stayed frozen, as if trying to process information that he simply refused to process.

  The doctor continued. “The child survived, however,” he added, hoping this would be of some solace. “He is a healthy baby boy. You’ll be able to see him as soon as the nurses get him cleaned up a bit.” He dropped his head slightly and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Xylon.” He then turned and walked back through the double doors.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It didn’t take long for Kenneth to get a reply. In fact, he’d almost left for the day when his computer beeped a familiar beep that told him he’d received a reply. The Temporal-Data Delivery and Retrieval System, or TDDRS for short, was known only to Kenneth, Gates and two other assistants. The only computer that could access it was the one Kenneth had on his desk. The beep-tone it now emitted was unique to only this project.

  Kenneth reseated himself in front of his computer. He pressed the intercom and called for his secretary to bring him a large cup of coffee before she left. He was going to be working late, he told her. Minutes later, with a steaming cup of black coffee on his desk, and a blueberry muffin that his secretary, Marylou—he’d been having an affair with her for months, unbeknownst to his wife—had added for good measure, he opened the file and read the response he’d received from someone 350 years in the future.

  Mr. Graham,

  I must say, I was surprised to hear from you this morning. I’m unaware of a corporation called LDS, however, I’m sure I can be of some assistance to you.

  It has been brought to my attention, by my technical staff, that the message you sent to me has a distinct temporal signature. In point of fact, the message, according to my personal computational analytics advisor—a woman I trust, implicitly—that the signature was generated on a computer that originates in the year, 2070, some 350 years ago. This leads me to believe that you have invented some type of device that can send messages through time. (Don’t forget, the technology in my time is far more advanced. It is a simple matter to detect temporal anomalies) Since this device has not been recorded in my history files, I can only surmise that you are, in fact, a time-traveler yourself, possibly returning to an earlier time in order to affect the course of historical progression. If this is the case, please say so plainly. I am a man with varying degrees of tolerance, but little patience with subterfuge.

  If you wish to do business with me, please reply in a frank and open manner. I also have various degrees of talent and interests. I may be able to help you more than you might think.

  Sincerely,

  Omni

  “Wow!” Kenneth yelled out, knowing there was no one in the building that could hear him. “I’ve hit the mother lode!”

  Immediately, Kenneth began typing a reply. If he played his cards right, this guy might be able to give him knowledge that would make him the richest and most powerful man on earth.

  2420

  In his jail cell, Omni sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. Was it possible that this message was from a man who’d traveled back in time to the year 2070? If so, he might be able to make use of him. After all, he was not unfamiliar with time travel, having left the 22nd century for the 25th century only a few years before. The man who’d made his travel through time possible told him that a man from his time had gone back to the year 2065 and prevented World War III, thus changing history in the process. Unfortunately, according to this quite helpful man, when the time traveler left 2125, Omni was the leader of the entire planet. In fact, according to him, the planet’s very name was changed to Omni. Too bad that very helpful man didn’t survive. Bad luck all around. Oh well, if everything works out the way he hopes, he will again be the richest and most powerful man on earth…no… Omni.

  ‡

  2070

  The next few days were a complete washout for Michael and Gates. For Michael in particular, it was nothing short of devastation; the kind of devastation that prevented him from thinking clearly or making any decisions at all. It was as if he’d become a zombie, walking around in a complete daze. His dreams for MJ Technologies were all but forgotten. His desire to help Gates—the older one—stop Kenneth Graham from communicating with the future was relegated to an annoyance. He simply couldn’t commit himself to any endeavor that did not include mourning his beloved wife and feeling sorry for himself.

  Growing up in the early 21st century, Gates had become a big fan of the old Austin Powers movies. Because of this, he tended to refer to the newborn version of himself as, “Mini-Me”. It became apparent to him early on, after the funeral of his mother, that his father was in no condition to care for a newborn baby. At sixty-years old and with no experience in such matters, he was reasonably sure he would be of little use as well. Luckily, at least temporarily, Amber took the baby home and cared for him until Michael was better capable of deciding how best to proceed with his future care.

  “How could something like this happen, Gates?” Michael said, tipping his glass and finishing his third bourbon and coke. “If you remember her as a child, how could she have died giving birth to you?” He paused and looked to his 60 year old son who occupied the adjacent barstool. “Do you still remember your mother when you were a child?”

  Gates was drinking Budweiser. He sat his glass on the counter and turned to his father with confused sadness. “Yes, Dad,” he said, “I remember all kinds of things: Vacations to Florida; Sunday breakfasts, little league baseball games, bedtime stories…she was there for all of that. I don’t understand how this is possible. If she died giving birth to me, how can I remember her up until I was tenyears old?”

  Michael hadn’t been with Cindy for much more than a year, but her very presence in his life had changed him in more ways than he knew. After all, he’d only arrived from the totalitarian dictatorship of the man and the planet called, Omni. He and Juno had loved each other, but there would likely have never been a marriage and definitely never a child. The experience of being married to a woman you loved and then watching as she carried your child in her womb was overpowering for a person who’d never even known it to be possible. Now, the child was born and the woman…his wife, was gone. He looked at Gates with a better appreciation of who and what he was and what his mere existence represented. He was a piece of Cindy. As a matter of fact: he was the bodily representation of both Cindy and Michael in physical form. “What’s an even more profound question,” he finally responded, “is what would have happened if the baby had died. Would you have simply disappeared?”

  “Well, the fact that I’m still here makes the whole question moot,” Gates said. “What are the chances that, without mother, you will move into the same house I lived in with the two of you until I found that amulet? What are the chances that little newborn baby is ever going to get his hands on that amulet in just the same way I did ten years from now?”

  “You’re right,” Michael said, “From your description of the house; your mother p
icked it out. I would never have lived so close to town. There must be some kind of permanence to each timeline once they have been established; otherwise, it’s unlikely you’d even be here.”

  “If that’s true, what’s the point of trying to stop Mr. Graham from contacting the future? Or trying to send him back to the time he came from? If what you’re saying is true; whatever happens, happens.”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said, “My mind’s tu rned to mush.” He downed the last of his drink and started to get up. “Let’s go home and see that little boy, huh? You know we’re gonna have to hire a nanny or something?”

  As Gates joined his father in leaving the bar, he said, “Hey, what is the kid gonna call me? You’re his father. What am I? An old friend?”

  “Actually,” Michael said as the two got into his blue, Kia Glider, “Since I have no living relatives in this timeline and you look exactly like an older version of me, why don’t we just tell him you’re his grandfather?”

  Gates guffawed a bit and shrugged his shoulders as his father started the car. “Why not?” he said, and then added, “His father is from the future and a different timeline, his grandfather is from the future and is him in sixty years. Hey, maybe he’ll be the first Temporal Phycologist? One of these days, they’re going to be much needed.”

  ‡

  2420

  Omni’s life had been a very different one after Xylon went back to 2065 and changed the course of human history. Not that he had any memory of this, but the man who’d returned to Omni’s time—2125—told him that in that alternate timeline, Omni had been in total control of the entire planet. So much so, that the planet’s very name was changed to reflect his total dominance. Once Omni had managed to kill the unfortunate time traveler—he never did catch his name—and wrest his means of traveling through time, he somehow managed to use it to travel 295 years into the future.