Laws of Time

by Jeff Yee

  Sean asked a question that went unanswered. Lisa deVeas was busy browsing the list, so Sean answered the question. “The call was received here in Washington. At the Hart Senate Building. This list contains the potential suspects that were in the building around ten o’clock that Friday night.”

  Lisa looked up at Sean in amazement. He was unable to tell if she was shocked at the suspects on the list or if she was surprised by his investigative capabilities. Lisa said softly, “I understand why you wanted to meet privately.”

  Sean agreed.

  “I hope you’ll also understand that I will need to have my team validate your findings,” said Lisa. “But assuming we can verify your methods, I can take it from here.”

  “Thanks.” Sean put his hand on Lisa’s hand. He had to ask her a genuine question and wanted to literally feel her reaction. “Lisa, can I trust you on this one?”

  Surprised, Lisa looked Sean directly in the eyes and replied, “Yes. You have my word.”

  Relieved, sensing the conviction in her voice and in the touch of her skin, Sean released her hand and got up from his seat.

  “Sean!” she said as he backed away, ready to return to his room. “Why is it that you don’t have security detail like your colleagues?”

  “Because I’m not officially a Tace employee. When the rule went into effect, it covered Tace employees involved with time travel experiments. Yet the funny thing is that I’m the one that gets called to testify on the Hill.”

  “If you want my opinion, Sean, I’d hire personal security immediately.” Lisa pointed at the closed folder and said, “I don’t think it’s only Koreans that you need to worry about.”

  Sean left a couple of bills on the bar to cover the drinks. Without saying another word, he walked back to his room, leaving Lisa deVeas with the information that she would need to close the Ryan Graves case. He knew that she was right, but he did not want to admit it.

  Chapter 42

  The autumn breeze whipped across the steps of the Capitol Building as Sean rushed up the stairs on his way to his second testimony in front of the Time Regulation Committee. After impatiently listening to inaccurate testimonials, at least in his own opinion, he was grateful to be on the stand again.

  On the thirteenth day of the senate hearings, Sean took his oath while facing the same five senators that grilled him during his first testimony. Unlike his first session, it was Senator Churchill who led with the first question of the day. “Mr. Harrison, thank you for joining us again.”

  “Glad to be here,” Sean said sarcastically.

  “One of the issues we’ve been discussing since your first testimony is immigration law,” said the senator. “Specifically, who has a right to migrate from one time to the next. What we’re concerned about is mass migration. In your opinion, is it possible that millions, if not billions, of people could use the time machine to travel to our current period?”

  Sean knew that the immigration issue was a hot topic in previous sessions and thus he had prepared an answer in advance. “Technically it is possible. But you would also need millions and billions of time machines all set to bring those people to our current time. Economically and logistically, I just don’t see it happening Senator.”

  “So the time machine is not a tunnel from the future to the present that provides unlimited access?”

  “No,” said Sean. “The matter inside the time machine is fixed. It can only bring back contents that fit within the machine. Nothing more.”

  Cordeiros interjected, “That may be true of the machine that you have developed, but what if a different type is produced that does allow unlimited transport between two time periods?”

  Sean did not trust the committee chairman. In an attempt to bait the senator, he responded, “And who is going to produce that machine? The Koreans?”

  Without falling into the trap, Cordeiros answered, “Doesn’t matter who builds it. My question Mr. Harrison, is what happens when it is built? We could have a mass immigration issue on our hands that puts a strain on our planet’s resources to sustain its people.”

  “Senator, with all due respect, we are talking about an issue that may never happen. As it stands today, the scenario your committee describes is impossible.”

  The persistent senator asked one more time. “But what if it occurs? What would you do?”

  A frustrated Sean pounded his fist on the table and exclaimed, “Then just pull the damn plug! Pull the plug!”

  Realizing that her question went the wrong direction from its original intention, Senator Churchill brought closure to the issue. “I think what we’re asking is what laws would you suggest be created to prevent such an issue?”

  Sean calmed down to answer the question. “First off, if you are concerned about a tunnel in time that provides unlimited access from one point to another, why don’t you ban them now? Make them illegal so that they’re never produced? I have my doubts that it is technically possible anyway, but there’s your answer. And secondly, I’d suggest requiring the equivalent of a passport to travel in time so that you can record and keep track of visitors from another time period.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Harrison,” said Senator Churchill. “That answers my question.”

  Senator Christine Schumacher was prepared with the next question. Without allowing for any pause in the interview, she asked, “Mr. Harrison, I would like to expand on an earlier issue that was raised regarding profiteering from future information. The so-called Superbowl theory.”

  “I’m sorry Senator,” Sean said with a chuckle. “That’s a theory that I’m not familiar with. What is the Superbowl theory?”

  “The Superbowl theory is the ability to go to the future, determine the winner of a sports event, the stock market, commodities trade or any wager or investment where a profit can be made based on knowing the outcome. Mr. Harrison, in your opinion, is this possible? Is it possible to profit from this knowledge?”

  Sean thought about the answer that he wanted to give Congress and then said jokingly, “It’s possible, but the future is never a certainty. One thing I know for certain is that these time machines are very costly to build and we need to find a method to pay them back. In my opinion, insider trading is a great way to pay for the expense.”

  There were a few laughs from the audience, but none of the senators on the panel were impressed by his witty answer, so Sean provided a serious response. “Okay, let’s say that I knew the Chargers were going to win the next Superbowl. I could place a bet on the game, and chances are that I would win. But it’s not a certainty, because information I have could change the result in the future. For example, if I told the Chargers players that I knew that they were going to win the game, which caused them to celebrate prematurely and not adequately prepare for the Superbowl, it is quite possible that they could eventually lose the same game that I had previously seen the team win. Again, the future is not certain. Just the simple fact that I had knowledge of the future could lead to a different result.”

  “Well, if you were in our place, Mr. Harrison, what would you suggest?” asked Senator Schumacher.

  “Suggest… as in laws?”

  “Yes.”

  “The business world is simple. As an officer of a company, securities laws have prevented me from trading at times during quiet periods where I have insider information. I’d suggest that the SEC extend these laws to friends, family or anyone that is touched by an individual that has access to future knowledge. And as for some of your other scenarios? I don’t know. Las Vegas is going to have a rude awakening when time travel gets going.”

  It wasn’t clear to Sean if his explanation made sense. The senators looked at each other to determine who would ask the next question, leaving a long, uncomfortable pause.

  Finally, Cordeiros spoke. “Mr. Harrison, I have a question for you. I’m going to ask the same question we asked you when we started these hearings. I want to see if your answer has changed.”

  Sean grew tense w
aiting for the question.

  Chapter 43

  Nearly a dozen sample advertisements were spread across Alyssa Moreau’s desk in her plush San Diego office. Stacey sorted through the artwork, rearranging each of the samples into structured piles. Determined to put some organization into her daughter’s messy office, she aligned her top five favorite ads side-by-side, creating parallel lines with the edges of the desk. Stacey had the office to herself, for a moment. Alyssa was busy entertaining a client in the nearby conference room and Alyssa’s assistant, Stephanie Kershaw, had just stepped out of the room to get coffee. It was just enough time for Stacey and her obsessive-compulsive habits to change the office to her liking.

  Stacey looked at her five favorite ads on the table. She grew red in the face thinking about the campaign and the potential impact that it could have. Now, it was much more than a public relations campaign. It was a crusade. It was a full-scale war to counter the government and its propaganda machine. The previous day, right-wing conservatives verbally attacked her husband in the widely viewed senate hearings. In particular, the exchange between her husband and Senator Rob Cordeiros was an intense debate, ending with both sides shouting at each other and with Sean threatening to walk out of the hearings. Stacey knew that Sean was normally well-tempered, but the senator provoked him in ways that she’d only seen when the San Diego Chargers lost an NFL playoff game and were finished for the season. But this was not a sports game. This was Sean’s life devotion. Cordeiros had gone as far to suggest that Tace Technologies was ill equipped to manage time travel and that it was unlikely that Sean would be able to set foot in one of his own machines. It was clearly inappropriate behavior for a senator, and the media later blasted Cordeiros for his outbursts, but Sean’s display in the public courtroom was not much better. Sean’s comment to Cordeiros that his grandmother could run a better hearing than the overhyped, unintelligent cowboy, was now the famous line in a two-minute heated exchange that was replayed many times by news stations and was available on every popular Internet video site. Millions of viewers had not witnessed the best of Sean Harrison and Stacey knew that she had to correct it.

  As Stacey looked at the artwork a second time, she felt a sense of pride. Alyssa’s company produced ads that would shortly accompany a Tace Technologies media blitz promoting the benefits of time travel. The objective of the public relations campaign was to change the public sentiment that had recently turned negative against time travel. According to most polls, more people opposed time travel than favored it.

  Stacey placed her favorite ad in the middle of the table. All five advertisements would eventually have a chance to be rotated into web sites and blogs during the campaign, but it was the ad in the middle of the desk that was her favorite to lead the campaign. It was a photo of an elderly woman holding hands with her grandson. She read the simple, meaningful title a second time.

  We can learn from the future to make today a better place. Diseases that have a cure in the future can now be cured today.

  It was short and to the point, but more importantly, it resonated with Stacey. It reminded her of her own mother who had passed away. She glanced at the photo and tried to picture her mother holding hands with her son Kris, when he was a little boy. A tear formed in her eye as she thought about her mother and the possibility of saving future grandmothers from terrible diseases like cancer. It was definitely the ad to launch the campaign. There would be four others that would follow: detecting natural disasters, avoiding wars, visiting loved ones from the past and solving unknown mysteries. She assumed that each theme would resonate with a certain demographic and that the general public would ultimately understand that the benefits outweighed the risks. The campaign managed by Alyssa’s public relations firm would be able to counter the negative news disseminated from government sources.

  Stephanie Kershaw returned with two cups of coffee. The short and stout woman was Alyssa’s assistant of many years and a good friend. If Alyssa needed something done, Stephanie was always there to keep on top of things.

  “Here’s your coffee,” said Stephanie as she handed Stacey her cup. “Have you decided on the copy that we’ll use for the campaign?”

  “Yes, I have,” replied Stacey. “Here’s the one that we should release immediately and here’s the artwork on the ads to launch.” Stacey pointed to her favorite ad. “Can we start with this one?”

  “Sure. I can have our designer get the final assets created and we’ll have them out on sites and blogs by end of day.”

  “Terrific. Can you send me a message when it’s out? I’m going to run to a lunch appointment with my son now, but I’d love an update when the release hits the wires.”

  “No problem,” replied Stephanie. “I’ll let you know when it starts.”

  Stacey packed her things and thanked Stephanie. As she was leaving, she passed by a conference room where Alyssa was busily presenting to her clients. She stopped for a moment to wave to Alyssa to indicate that she was leaving, but her daughter was focused on the presentation. Stacey watched her executive daughter through the glass windows of the conference room, smiled proudly, and then slipped out quietly for her lunch with her son.

  Chapter 44

  Sean’s plane touched down at San Diego airport shortly before noon. He sniffed the warm Pacific Ocean breeze as he stepped off the plane, glad to be back home and away from the politics of Washington. Then, he placed a call on his mobile phone to his wife.

  “Hi Honey, I just landed.”

  “I’m about to sit down with Kris for a lunch,” said Stacey hurriedly, without a hello. “Want to join us?”

  “No, I’m going to head home. I’m about to meet my new bodyguards.”

  “I’m glad. I still don’t know why you didn’t get them the first time.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. At this point, I’d prefer private security over the government…”

  “Sean, I have to run,” said Stacey, cutting off her husband. “Kris is here. But I just want to let you know that the PR campaign begins later today. And I’m sorry that you and Cordeiros got into a scuffle yesterday.”

  “Okay. See you at home. Say hi to Kris for me.”

  Sean ended the call and continued walking towards baggage claim to retrieve his luggage. The automated baggage system at the San Diego airport was one of the technologies that Sean loved about his new era. The automated system whisked his bags from the plane to baggage claim in a series of complex belts, being redirected at intersections to the correct path based upon information contained in RFID tags located in each bag. His bag arrived at the carousel faster than Sean could walk from the plane. Although he would have preferred to have had unlimited access to the Tace corporate jet, one of the perks he enjoyed when he was CEO, Sean realized that traveling commercially was a much nicer experience than any time that he could remember.

  After retrieving his luggage, he found a man in a dark black suit holding a card with his name.

  “I’m Sean Harrison,” said Sean as he approached the man.

  The husky man was the perfect bodyguard, standing at an intimidating six-and-a-half feet and pushing three hundred pounds in weight. The man answered, “Grant Fukoda, MPP Security. Right this way, sir.”

  Sean followed his new bodyguard to a waiting car at the airport terminal where he met the second member of his security team.

  “Hello Mr. Harrison, I’m Jamal Owens. I’m one of three men on rotation that have been assigned to you by MPP.”

  “Thanks Jamal, nice to meet you,” replied Sean.

  “Where to?” Jamal asked.

  “Home, please. Know how to get there?”

  “Yup, we have it.”

  Grant finished loading Sean’s belongings into the back of the car and then the three men sped off, heading in the direction of Del Mar. Jamal, the driver, explained how the security detail worked and how the three men assigned to him would be rotated so that Sean always had at least one bodyguard at all times, and two guards at desi
gnated times when he would be at high profile or public events.

  Shortly after passing Mission Bay on the Interstate, Sean received a phone call. He politely answered, “Hello, this is Sean.”

  “Sean, it’s Lisa deVeas. I have some good news. Are you still in Washington?”

  Sean looked at his new guards to see if they were listening to his conversation. Although they were clearly in range, Sean recalled that they were private security, hired by his wife. “Sorry, just landed in San Diego, although I’m likely heading back to Washington next week when the hearings wrap up.”

  “It might be better that you’re not in Washington anyway,” said Lisa deVeas. “Listen, Sean. We have the point man. It’s David Kim. Do you know who he is?”

  It took Sean a few seconds to answer. The name David Kim had no meaning to him only a few days prior. But now, he knew David’s name and his connection to Senator Cordeiros; a fact that had been bothering him all week. Although his gut was right, he still could not believe it was true. “Yes, David is Cordeiros’ aide,” he replied.

  “Correct,” said Lisa over the phone. “We’ve recently placed him into custody and he’s now being interrogated by my team.”

  “Do you know if Rob Cordeiros is involved?”

  Lisa’s voice turned a notch lower when she answered, “I don’t have any information yet that indicates how far up this runs. Sean, you also have to understand, that even if I did have more information, I would probably not be able to share it with you. I’m letting you know about David as a courtesy since you brought him to me.”