The Wells Bequest

by Polly Shulman

  Jaya shrugged. “Would you really want to live in a world where only the possible is possible?”

  I laughed. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. You can be pretty impossible yourself, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks! You’re pretty impossible too. Especially that curl.”

  I blushed and pushed it out of my eyes. “So how does all this work for the Burton’s time machines?” I asked quickly.

  “Same as any other science-fiction objects,” said Jaya. “They follow the laws from their stories of origin.”

  “Which are what?”

  “Well, one of the Burton’s time machines, the Tuck machine, comes from a can’t-change-the-past story,” said Auntie Shanti. “Whenever the characters in the Tuck novel try to use their time machine to change the past, they fail. They try to shoot Hitler and the gun misfires or they try to launch a missile, but they trip before they can reach the on switch—that sort of thing. According to the rules in Tuck’s book, you can’t change the past. So the Tuck machine really is only good for tourism. You couldn’t use it to correct a mistake or prevent 9/11 or anything like that. And you can’t even use it to collect souvenirs—it won’t let you take anything home with you.”

  “What about the others?” I asked.

  “The other two are both weak also. The one from Tomorrow’s Tomorrows Today only goes to the future. It doesn’t have a past setting. Which means if you use it to go to the future, you’re stuck there,” said Auntie Shanti. “Some people would say it doesn’t really count as a time machine.”

  “And the third one?”

  “The Kerr machine? That one’s a little more interesting. It’s from an alternate-worlds story. You know about alternate worlds, right?”

  I nodded.

  “The Kerr time machine opens a portal to the past or the future. When the characters in the Kerr novel use it to change the past, they splinter off a new future,” said Auntie Shanti. “The world is different for the versions of the characters who exist in the new future. But their actions don’t affect the future that they themselves come from.”

  “You mean their original present?” I asked.

  “Exactly.”

  I thought about it. I guess I looked confused because Jaya said, “Look at it this way. Suppose you used the Kerr machine to open a portal and travel back to 1930 and kill Hitler. Then in the world where you did that, World War II would never happen. But that wouldn’t affect the world you left from. If you went home in the Kerr time machine, your own world would be the same as ever—World War II would still have happened in that world.”

  “I see,” I said. “So you couldn’t go back in time and change your own past even though you could change the past for other people in alternate universes. Including other versions of you.”

  “Right,” said Auntie Shanti. “You would never experience the new past yourself.”

  “So how does the Wells machine work? What rules does it follow?” I asked.

  “As far as anyone knows, it’s unrestricted,” said Auntie Shanti. “H. G. Wells doesn’t say anything about not being able to change the past or bring back information from the future, or alternate universes, or anything like that.”

  “Wells doesn’t even mention the grandfather paradox,” said Jaya. “I bet you could even use his machine to go back in time and kill your grandfather before he met your grandmother, and then you’d never be born. You would probably just disappear.”

  “That sounds unbelievably dangerous,” I said. It was exactly what I’d been worrying about when the tiny time machine first appeared in my bedroom.

  “All powerful objects are dangerous,” said Jaya. “I like to think things work out all right anyway.”

  “Only if you’re careful,” I said.

  “Don’t be a worrywart, Leo,” said Jaya.

  “I’m not a worrywart. I’m sensibly cautious!” I finished my fish and chips and crumpled up the wrapper. “Here, want me to throw that away for you?”

  “Thanks.” Jaya and her aunt handed me their wrappers. I walked over to a trash basket a few yards behind our bench.

  • • •

  When I came back, someone was talking to Jaya and her aunt. He had his back to me, but I recognized his stiff posture and reddish-blond hair. It was Simon FitzHenry!

  “You came to tell me you forgive me, didn’t you?” he was saying.

  “I’m just here visiting my aunt for the weekend,” Jaya said.

  “But you do forgive me, don’t you? You’re not still angry?”

  “Not angry, just disappointed. I thought you were a different kind of person.”

  “I will be. I’ll be whatever kind of person you want me to be. You and me—we’re not like everyone else. We’ve always understood each other. Please, Jaya!” He sounded a little desperate. Jaya looked uncomfortable.

  I went around the bench and stood next to her. Simon’s face contorted when he saw me. “Leo? What are you doing here?”

  “He’s visiting my aunt with me,” said Jaya.

  Simon stared at me murderously. Then he turned to Jaya. “I thought you came here to see me, but clearly I’m wrong. I can see I’m not wanted.” He turned on his heel and walked off.

  “That was weird,” I said. “How did he know we were here?”

  “Well, he does live in London,” said Jaya. “Maybe he was just walking in the park. Should I go after him? I feel bad for him. He really did sound sorry.”

  “Do you forgive him?” asked Auntie Shanti.

  “Sure, I guess. Now that Francis has the job.”

  “Would you—you know—go out with Simon?” I asked. “Because that’s what he’ll think if you stop him.”

  “No, I guess you’re right,” said Jaya. “Poor Simon, though.”

  After Simon had disappeared over the crest of the hill, Auntie Shanti said, “Let’s talk about tomorrow. I have some questions about your plan.”

  “Okay,” said Jaya.

  “First off,” said Auntie Shanti, “why bother with the mini demo time machine? You could use that same technique to capture the full-size machine instead. After all, the full-size machine should be right there in the laboratory too, going forward into the future. It would be far more useful than the mini model.”

  “But we already have the big machine in the repository—not that it works,” said Jaya. “How can it be in two places at once?”

  “Of course it can be in two places at once,” said Auntie Shanti. “It’s a time machine. That’s what time machines do.”

  “Oh, right. Duh,” said Jaya, hitting her head.

  “I don’t want to wrestle the Time Traveller for the full-size machine, do you?” I said. “The Time Traveller is riding the full-size machine. He’s not going to just let us take it. The demo is empty. There’s nobody at the controls. All we need to do is stop time and grab it.”

  “Good point,” said Auntie Shanti. “That brings up my second question. How do you plan to stop time?”

  I had been worrying about that myself. But not too much—after all, I had seen my future self on the time machine. “I was hoping we’d think of something when we get there,” I said. It sounded pretty lame, but we were bound to come up with something that worked.

  “Actually, I have a plan,” said Jaya.

  “Great! Tell me!” I said.

  “When we get there, I need you to almost kill me.”

  “What?!!”

  “Choke me or hold a knife to my throat or something. When people almost die, their life flashes in front of their eyes. That’s because time slows down and compresses. It should slow down enough for me to grab the mini time machine.”

  “No way, Jaya! That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” I said, horrified. “It won’t work.”

  “Why not?” She sounded offended.

  “Well, for one thing, there’s no way I’m going to choke you or hold a knife to your throat.”

  “That’s not my plan not working. That’s you
being too stubborn and wimpy to try it,” said Jaya.

  “Not wanting to hurt you is not wimpy! But it wouldn’t work anyway. You know I would never hurt you! Your life only flashes in front of your eyes when you think you’re really going to die, not when you know someone is pretending to try to kill you.”

  “All right, fine. I’ll use plan B, then.”

  “What’s plan B?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you yet. Or else it might not work.”

  “Oh, come on! That’s ridiculous. I’ve told you all my plans.”

  “No, really. I can’t. It depends on the element of surprise,” said Jaya.

  Nothing I said would change her mind.

  • • •

  I did win the fight about who got the guest bed. What with the hard floor, jet lag, excitement, and worry, I didn’t get much sleep.

  The next day, the three of us headed out after breakfast to the Time Traveller’s house. Well, breakfast for me and Jaya—it was lunch for Auntie Shanti. It’s five hours later in London, so we’d had some trouble waking up.

  Before we’d gone a block, it started to rain, little misty drops that stuck to Jaya’s hair like glitter. I turned up my collar and stuck my hands in my pockets.

  The Time Traveller’s house was big and fancy, made of red brick with white trim. It had an octagonal turret and all sorts of peaks and dormers in the roof. The whole ground floor had been converted to shops: a chocolatier, a yarn shop, and a florist.

  The Time Traveller must have made a good living, I thought. Maybe that would be a good career choice for me too: mad scientist in a work of fiction.

  I stood on tiptoe and peered over the low garden wall. Behind the house were a glass greenhouse, a shed, and a little building that might have been a stable or carriage house.

  “That was his lab, I bet,” said Jaya.

  “We want what used to be the parlor,” said Jaya. “Which one do you think that is?”

  “The chocolatier, I should think,” said Auntie Shanti. “With the bow window.”

  “All right,” said Jaya. “Here’s the plan. I’ll stop time. Leo, right away—the instant it stops—you grab the time machine and switch it off. Pull the lever upright. Perfectly straight up and down. Make sure you get the lever that’s sending it into the future, not the one that would send it into the past!”

  “I know,” I said. “I read the book too. And I saw myself using it, remember?”

  “All right, just making sure you know what to do. Meanwhile, Auntie Shanti, you distract the shopkeeper and whoever else is in there. Buy some chocolate or something. Make a fuss. Can you do that?”

  “Oh yes, I think I can manage,” said Auntie Shanti. “I’m rather good at buying chocolate.”

  “We need a bag or something to put the time machine in,” I said. “It’s going to be pretty distinctive looking—it glitters. We don’t want people wondering what it is and where it came from.”

  “Half a sec,” said Auntie Shanti, rooting in her purse. She pulled out a folded plastic shopping bag that said Fortnum & Mason. “Will that do?”

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  “I’d better take that,” said Jaya. “Okay, here goes.” She opened the door. A bell tinkled as we stepped into a cool room smelling of chocolate.

  • • •

  There were plaster flowers on the ceiling. Shelves piled with fancy candy tins lined the walls. A long glass counter ran along one side with trays of chocolate laid out in rows, which made them look more like jewelry than something you’d eat. Aside from a saleswoman standing behind the counter, we were alone in the shop.

  “May I help you?” asked the saleswoman.

  “Yes, please,” said Auntie Shanti. “I need—oh, shall we say five hundred grams of chocolates? They’re for my sister. She’s quite particular. Have you got anything from Madagascar?”

  “Yes, let me show you our single-estate bars,” said the saleswoman. “They’re very popular.”

  “Oh, no, that won’t do,” said Auntie Shanti. “My sister loathes anything popular. What’s your worst seller?”

  “I think you must mean our most exclusive collection,” said the saleswoman.

  “Quite,” said Auntie Shanti.

  “Perhaps your sister would enjoy our florals?” suggested the saleswoman.

  “Nasturtium and borage—with chocolate? Really? I can see why they’re . . . exclusive,” said Auntie Shanti.

  “Indeed. Would you care for a taste?” offered the saleswoman. Auntie Shanti wrinkled her nose but nodded.

  Meanwhile, Jaya had been looking around the room. “The demo time machine should be near the fireplace,” she said.

  I followed her across the room to a marble fireplace with long chocolate boxes stacked in it like logs. Jaya pointed to a spot by her feet. “In the book, Wells says the demo was sitting on a little octagonal table in front of the fire, ‘with two legs on the hearth rug.’ So that should be right here.”

  “There’s no table there now, though. Do you think the demo would have fallen down? Or will it be standing in mid-air?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” said Jaya. “If it’s not on the floor, get ready to catch it.” She glanced around. Auntie Shanti and the saleswoman were deep in conversation, inspecting boxes of candy. “Remember, grab the lever the absolute second time stops,” said Jaya. “Don’t wait! We won’t have long.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” I said. “Hurry up and do whatever you’re going to do, before the saleswoman notices us.”

  “Okay. Here goes.” Jaya took a deep breath.

  Then she leaned forward and kissed me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jaya Stops Time

  Time stopped.

  For a split second—or maybe forever, I couldn’t quite tell—the world vanished. My heart pounded. There was nothing but me and Jaya and the kiss. Despite a strange, sharp pain in my left shin, I felt like I might explode with joy.

  The sharp pain in my left shin got sharper. It was Jaya kicking me.

  The reason the world had vanished, I discovered, was that I had closed my eyes. I opened them. Right in front of me, at waist height, something shimmered, complex and brassy. The time machine!

  Like a frog snapping a fly out of the air, I reached out, grabbed the lever, and pulled it upright.

  My movement broke the spell. Jaya let go of me, the kiss ended, time started up again, and the tiny time machine thudded onto my toes.

  “Leo!” hissed Jaya. “You were supposed to catch it! Is it broken?”

  “I hope not!”

  I handed it to Jaya. She bundled it into the Fortnum & Mason bag.

  The saleswoman had heard the thump and turned around. “Did you drop something?” she asked.

  “My gram’s clock,” said Jaya. “We’re taking it to be repaired.” She pulled down the plastic so that the top of the time machine peeked out. It did look like a clock. “Are you done yet, Auntie?”

  “Almost. I think I will take those florals, please. Two hundred fifty grams,” said Auntie Shanti.

  The woman filled a box with brown lumps. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, I think so—or no, shall we get some rose creams for your mum, Jaya?”

  “I think she’d like the ginger better,” said Jaya. She muttered to me, “I know I would.”

  “Two hundred fifty grams of the chocolate ginger as well, then. And that’s the lot,” said Auntie Shanti.

  • • •

  I walked down the front steps to the pavement, twitching and zinging with excitement. Jaya had kissed me! I’d found the time machine!

  Auntie Shanti paused at the bottom of the steps. “How did you manage it? Stopping time, I mean,” she asked.

  Jaya looked embarrassed. “I used the subjective startle effect,” she said a little stiffly. “I induced a moment of emotional anomaly, altering Leo’s experience of relative temporality.”

  “Emotional anomaly?” Auntie Shanti sounded puzzled. Then comprehension
washed across her face. “You didn’t! Little Jaya! Don’t tell me you—”

  She broke off and looked at me. I blushed.

  “Well,” said Auntie Shanti with a laugh, “whatever works!”

  “Jaya!” called a voice on the street behind us.

  I whipped around. There stood Simon FitzHenry in all his reddish-blond hatefulness.

  “Simon!” I growled. “Are you following us?”

  He ignored me. “What are you doing here, Jaya?” he asked.

  “Visiting my aunt, like I told you. Buying chocolate. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re buying chocolate? At the Time Traveller’s house?” His voice dripped with incredulity.

  “Oh, is this the Time Traveller’s house?” Jaya sounded almost innocent. “We came for chocolate.”

  “You know perfectly well it is. What are you up to?”

  “Buying chocolate, like I just said. What are you doing here? Are you buying chocolate too, or is this just another really unlikely coincidence?”

  “I’ve been tracking your movements with the Burton’s people finder,” said Simon.

  I could see Jaya’s pity turning into anger. “You disgusting sneak! You’ve been spying on me?”

  “I’m not spying, just . . . watching. I couldn’t bear things the way we left them. I couldn’t bear not knowing where you were.”

  “You’re stalking me!”

  “When you showed up in London last night, I thought you’d come to see me. But I was wrong. And then today, when you went to the Time Traveller’s house, I knew why you must be here! To try to recapture the time machine! But I need it. Where is it? Did you get it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you see a time machine here?” said Jaya. “That thing’s the size of an armchair.”

  “You could have hidden it in the house. Or made it invisible.”

  “Well, I didn’t. And if I had it, there’s no way I would ever give it to you,” said Jaya.

  Simon narrowed his flinty little eyes. “I wouldn’t taunt the man who controls Tesla’s death ray, Jaya.”

  “What death ray? Tesla never built one. And even if he had, why would you have it?”