“This is impossible,” I murmur to the creature, though it certainly has no means of recognizing what I’m saying. It considers me through its reptilian eyes, jerking away as if offended as the laughter pours from me. Seeming to lose interest in me, it draws away from the machine entirely, and I edge towards the door just in time to see it running into the massive forest. I step out, crying out as my foot gracelessly skids forward. I try to catch my balance, but it is obviously a lost cause. I find myself hitting the ground with a dull thud, and a vaguely squishing sound. Looking down at myself, I realize I am completely covered in mud. At least, I really hope it’s mud. As much as I love the idea of dinosaurs, being covered in their waste is the last thing I would want to experience on my mini trip. However, taking the muck at face value, it feels strange and cool against my skin. In my time, the odds of finding a proper mudhole are essentially null. Every inch of the planet has been paved, colonized, optimized. Looking at what wonders the planet held so many years ago, I can’t help but feel it is a shame-- the extent that my people have gone to in colonizing this planet. Granted, most of the work was done by the previous dominant species.
The simple sensation of mud against skin should not be as wondrous as it is. I can’t help but dip my fingers in the muck, tracing a path in the dirt. It’s unlikely that my clothes will come clean at any rate, so I may as well enjoy the bit of dirty fun while I can. A smile all but splits my face as I throw myself back in the mud entirely, and my eyes are drawn to just how blue the sky seems. I’m aware of another presence, and quickly jolt up, only to find that the same dinosaur from before had returned. With it there are several smaller versions of itself, and I can’t help but coo as I realize she’s brought her young ones to see this oddity. Seems that she didn’t deem me much of a danger. I reach my hand out, and one of the smaller dinosaurs steps forward, examining my hand before abruptly snapping its teeth down upon it.
“Ow, cripes!” I curse, trying to pry my hand from its grip. It holds fast, considering me with a stubborn expression. The other young ones are beginning to gather around us, considering me with what seems an almost… hungry… expression. They’re not here to marvel at my machine! They think I seem a good snack! Screeching in fear, I managed to pry the hatchling’s teeth free of my hand. Before it can zero in on me again, I’m scrambling backwards, not trusting myself to get to my feet quickly enough. As I feel the steel of the machine beneath me, I lurch towards the inner console, closing the doors. The dinosaurs bang around the outside of the machine, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst from my chest.
I manage to drag myself into a standing position, and set the dials back to my own time. I pull the lever, wincing at the blood dribbling from my hand. The machine lurches, and I can only pray that it had thrown the creatures away from it as it begins to rip through space and time once more. I brace myself against the back of the time machine, holding my injured hand to my chest. It hurts, there’s no question there. However, in spite of the pain I’m in, an excited shudder quakes my body and ecstatic laughter spills past my lips. I had done it. I had done the impossible. I had made a working time machine. As I arrived in my own time and stepped out into my workshop, the possibilities washed over me more than ever. The wound on my hand the last thing on my mind, and I realize what I have to do.
Chapter 2
Though I had spent nearly the entirety of my life building this machine, it was with no small amount of surprise that I realized that I have literally no plan. Perhaps it was how unlikely a positive outcome actually seemed, but I had never laid out an actual schedule of what would be done once my machine was completed. Now the day is here, and I’m realizing what a dope I’ve been. An opportunity of this magnitude obviously needs to be explored as thoroughly and effectively as possible. That means careful plotting, extensive analysis, and absolute agonizing over every choice I make. Though I have the rest of my existence to explore the realms of time, my life is all too short to see everything I want to see. One would have to be immortal to explore all that I want to experience. As such, I dutifully decided to settle on the most crucial time periods, at least as far as my opinion goes.
Now, here I stand, before my machine with list gripped in hand. Though technology has pervaded far beyond a simple paper and pen, it seemed the most efficient method, considering I intend to take the list with me on my travels. While my trip to the prehistoric ages had been exciting, I think I’ll stick with a time period that’s a bit less risky. The medieval period, as lived by the humans of this planet some millennia ago, is another point of fascination for me. Human culture, and by association the culture of my own people, has been molded dramatically by the tales of what happened during this time period. While the tales speak of some danger, most of it lies in creatures of a mythic nature. Dragons, though an interesting tale, certainly have no roots in reality. It seemed a time simpler than my own, yet less dangerous than my initial trip. It was, after all, an era of chivalry. I had taken a few short moments to beat out the dings that littered the outside of my machine. While it is not as pristine as it once was, I suppose that is of little consequence. It is not as if anyone in the past should see my machine-- were they to see it, the results could be disastrous. The entire space time continuum could be disrupted. However, I trust myself to obscure the machine well enough from prying eyes. While the people of the medieval era are leagues more intelligent than the dinosaurs I encountered, their civilization is not nearly as advanced as others. There should be open plains aplenty for me to mark my landing.
As I step into my beloved machine, fiddling with the knobs, I can’t ignore the slight gap between the sliding doors that kept me safely inside. It could prove an issue, but this is a realm unexplored. If there are some odd side effects to traveling through time, I would be the first to experience them. For the sake of research, it could prove beneficial, though the effect on my long term life remains at question. I am, however, a scientist at heart. My work in the field comes above all things, even personal health.
Yes, that’s easy enough to say.
My eyes remain glued to the gap as I continue to adjust the console. While for the time being all I can see is a sliver of light beyond it, I haven’t the foggiest idea what lies ahead. In spite of my personal insistences that I will be okay with whatever happens, I still hope that the effects, whatever they may be, are minor at best. I draw my eyes away from the gap for a brief moment, noting that my machine has taken stock of the damage. There is a small warning flashing that indicates the breach of the machine’s seal, but I tap away from it, preparing to launch myself into the past once more. A hesitant pull, and the lever is flipped. The machine lurches as it has from the start, and a blinding light fills the interior of the machine.
“Augh!” I shout, wincing away and drawing my forearm towards my face to cover my eyes. When I close my eyes, it feels as if I will very well faint. I can’t allow that to happen, however. I simply brace myself against the back wall as has become something of a routine. The machine stills abruptly, and the blinding light is replaced with a much more tolerable one. I lower my arm away from my eyes, and shakily inhale. There’s a strange tingling in my chest, but there’s little sense worrying about that presently. I’d much rather enjoy my little day trip. As the doors slide open once more, I am greeted with the warmth of sunlight. I hesitate for a long moment, and when I realize nothing is going to peek in and attack me, I step out of the machine. There is grass underfoot, and I realize I have landed in a rather beautiful meadow, plush with wildflowers. Warmth floods my body at the sight of them, and I crouch to grab a dandelion between my fingers. Giving it a sniff, I didn’t expect the sudden sneeze that shook me. Allergies, it seems. Perfect. I toss the flower aside, stepping away from my machine and casting a glance in my immediate area. Nothing. Nothing but meadows and trees for miles. Seems I had quite the walk ahead of me. Fortunately, I had brought a small satchel of treats along for the trip. I grab a nutrition supplement from my bag, peelin
g off the wrapper and taking a bite as I begin to walk in what would likely seem a random direction to any onlookers. It would likely seem that way because, truth be told, the direction was rather random. It was not as if I had an intricate map to follow. I only had my natural sense of direction, and a small pinch of luck. I could only hope I would find a town in my time here, as I truly can’t afford to plan another trip to this particular time. As much as I would like to regroup, I’m here, and I will make the best of it that I can.
At the very least, the grass cushions my steps, and I wore my most comfortable walking boots in preparation for such an occasion. The sun is bright, but not altogether intolerable. I’m certain my skin may darken from the exposure, as I have only managed to maintain my pale blue hue from… well. Not leaving my home at all. Only now does it occur to me what I may have missed in the twenty some-odd years I’d been working relentlessly on my machine. No matter. I have plenty of time to make up for what I may have lost.
I take yet another bite of my nutrition supplement, and realize it tastes remarkably bland. Perhaps it is because my other senses have been rewarded with such splendor, but my taste buds seemed to be rebelling at the utter tastelessness of my government provided nutrition. Swallowing what I had bitten off, I tuck the bar back into my bag. If I find a town, perhaps I can indulge in some period delicacies, but in the meantime, even the dandelion I had sniffed seemed more appetizing than what I had brought. I pause as I come to what appears to be some sort of orchard, glancing towards the neatly grouped trees. It seems convenient, almost too convenient. However, I quickly identify the trees as being apple trees, and it seems to me that they are overburdened with fruit. Glancing around, and seeing no one in the vicinity, I reach towards one of the lower branches. There is a bright red apple hanging just within reach, and my stomach rumbles in anticipation as I wrap my hand around it.
“Hey! What are you doing!? You’re trespassing on the king’s lands!” A gruff voice calls, and the thundering sound of hooves assaults my delicate ears. The king’s lands? Trespassing? Certainly not, it seemed such a foolish notion. However, a man garbed in metallic armor leaps off of his horse and levels his sword in my direction. Perhaps it would have been wise to toss the apple away, but instead, I lower my hand with it still in my grasp. “The king’s prized apples!” The… guard, I suppose, cries out. His voice is harsh, and I’m startled into dropping the fruit in my hand. It wasn’t intentional, but the guards considered me as if I had killed one of their own.
“I didn’t know…” I sputter helplessly, taking a step back. The other guards dismount their horses, aiming their swords at my heart with startling accuracy, These are men who are not afraid to kill. They had likely killed stronger men than I, and I know I have no chance if I fight them. One of the human men, perhaps a self appointed leader, steps forward and takes me by the wrist. “Don’t kill me, please. I have so much to live for,” I whisper, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.
“We’re not going to kill you, lad.” The guard says gruffly, looping a length of rope around my wrists. “That’s the executioner’s job.” He adds as an afterthought. My heart feels as if it has dropped into my stomach. I allow the man to lead me to my inevitable death. This is how it ends. I thought I would be safe here, but there was no way I could anticipated how wrong I was. As I trail behind the guards, I look for any possible escape route, but I know I could not outrun them on their horses. Resigning myself to my fate, I fall into step behind the guard--
Only to stop abruptly as an arrow whizzes past my face and is planted in the tree to my side. I can’t contain the panicked scream that escapes me, and the guards seem as wrapped up in a panic as I am.
“Bandits!” One of them shouts. Another arrow soars into the clearing, but it is impossible to see which direction they’re coming from. In the ruckus, the guard holding onto my bindings drops them, leaping atop his horse. He raises his sword, and I am tempted to complain when it seems they intend to abandon me here with bandits. However, I quickly remind myself that their intent was to kill me all along, so I remain silent. I edge away from the horses, biting back a squeal as a hand covers my mouth and I am pulled into the underbrush. I struggle briefly, but a pair of lips ghost against my ears and render me motionless.
“Hush, now. Do you not want to live?” A melodic feminine voice croons, and a spike of uncertainty lances through my heart. Regardless, I allow her to pull me deeper into the depths of the brush, watching as the guards seem to realize that I am missing. The supposed bandits are suspiciously absent, and I can’t help feeling as if some higher power is watching out for me. The hand presses firmer against my mouth, and I quake in fear as the guards grow near to the brush.
“Damn! He must have gotten away. If we’re lucky, the bandits will get him.” The apparent leader muttered. The other guards rumble in agreement, and they quickly climb back atop their horses and disappear back in the direction they must have come from. Whoever had been supporting my weight allows me to sag to the ground, and I scramble to my feet, wheeling around to face them. Immediately I am struck by her beauty. She smiles coyly, crossing her arms over her chest. I immediately notice the quiver she carries, and I can’t help but bark out a laugh as I realize what has happened.
“There were no bandits!” I breathe, my body’s quaking easing off somewhat. She smiles teasingly, shrugging a shoulder.
“Do not be so quick to assume you are safe. I could very well be a bandit, could I not?” She says slyly, and I am unable to ignore the unmistakable jolt of arousal that surges through me at her lilting tone. I cough awkwardly, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to be casual.
“If you were a bandit, why would you save me from the guards?” I reply coolly, cracking what I can only hope is a suave grin. The woman considers me for a long moment, quirking her lips and giggling. I am immediately enamored, her laughter sounding much like the pleasant tinkle of a bell.
“Oh, well, from the looks of your strange garb… I thought perhaps you were an eccentric diplomat.” She offers, shifting her hand to her quiver. Uncertainty shoots through me, mingling with the tingling in my chest for a rather confusing sensation. I open my mouth to speak, stammering awkwardly and wringing my hands together. “In any case. You should be on your way, traveler. The guards may come looking for you again, and I will not be here to save you a second time.” She says with a small smile. She turns her back on me and begins to slip away, and I smother the desire to trail after her. As beautiful as she is, as much as I would love to pursue her, it is not to be. She is not of my time. All the same…
“You are not a bandit, then, right?” I call out, hoping she lingers for a moment longer.
“That is not for you to know.” She calls back, not pausing in her stride. I stare after her, mouth hanging slightly agape as I watch the certainly unintentional sway of her hips. Not of my time, I remind myself.
Counting myself lucky to live another day, I turn away from the orchard and begin back in the direction of my time machine. Though many would likely be dissuaded from continuing their venture through time, I simply hope the next trip will be… more successful. I step back into my machine, the tingling in my chest having returned at full force. My mind had been drawn away from the state of my invention, but now it returned to the situation at hand. As I adjust the dial to return to my own time, I make certain to mask my eyes before throwing the lever. My body quakes with anticipation, as if it craves the lurch of the machine. I feel a strange sense of satisfaction as the blinding light fills the cavity of the time machine. My knees feel a bit weak, and I rest the back of my head against the wall of the machine, keeping my eyes closed until it ceases moving.
I all but collapse out of the machine as the doors slide open, stumbling over to the nearest workbench. I collapse bodily upon it, sagging and breathing a sigh that could almost be mistaken for pleasure. Jolting from my reverie, a purple hued blush washes up on my cheeks. I push myself to my feet, taking a moment befor
e bed to gently wash the wound on my hand. I swallow thickly as I realize my mind is still wrapped upon the woman I had seen in the past. I am certain that even in the few remaining history books, I have never seen a human of such immaculate beauty. I am almost equally certain that I will fall for another woman in another time. Perhaps it is the romance of the situation, but something about my experience seems almost otherworldly.
I awaken before my alarm clock even has time to sound, and I quickly dismiss the alert. With the happenings the day before, I was lucky to pass as, as my savior said, an eccentric diplomat. However, in the future it would benefit me to look as inconspicuous as possible. I slip on a simple black shirt, and a pair of matching slacks before slipping towards my workshop. My plan this time is to go to several thousand years in the future. It seems like overkill, but I want to make extra certain any of my near ancestors are long dead, if they even exist. Again with the space time continuum.
As the door to my workshop slides open, the familiar tingle from the day before returns. Ghosting my hand to the broad expanse of my chest, I can’t help thinking back to the woman who saved me. Arousal spikes through me once more, and I quickly avert my mind to the least sexy thing I can think of. Naked grandma. ...Okay, that worked a bit too well. Wishing I had a bit of mind bleach, I step towards my time machine, examining my reflection in the dented steel. I am less worried about hiding my time machine in this future timeline, as I am certain I would not be the only time traveler to make this particular venture. The only risk was, as I mentioned before, the risk of skewing space time, though I am not sure what the effects of that may be. Even now, I am still unclear on whether the exposure during my travels is having some sort of adverse reaction on my body. I exhale a sigh, examining my skin in my reflection for any odd specks or spots. Seeing nothing abnormal, aside from the wound that remains on my hand, I offer my reflection a smile before slipping into my invention.
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