by Jason Ayres
Where would they be at this time? In 2024, Josh had begun lecturing at the university, in conjunction with studying for a postgraduate degree. It was around this time he had started his initial studies into time travel, assisting the long-retired Professor Hamilton with his tachyonics experiments. Those experiments had gone nowhere, but had laid the groundwork for the more successful ideas that came later.
As for Alice, she would have been an undergraduate student at that time, but the current timing was unfortunate. The two of them had only met and started dating in early 2025. He was a little too early to hope for any help from her. A year or two later would have been fine. She would have known all about his interest in time travel by then, but at this stage she would be completely unaware. That would make seeking help from her decidedly difficult.
Anything he might say to her now could affect his potential future relationship with her. He could hardly go up to her and say, “Hi, I’m Josh from thirty years in the future. You’re going to meet a younger version of me in a few weeks’ time and start going out with him.”
He couldn’t imagine anyone uninitiated in the ways of time travel taking that seriously. He may well end up screwing up the relationship before it even started, at least in this universe, the one in which he currently needed help.
That ruled out going to Alice. That left his younger self or Professor Hamilton, but tracking either down in the week between Christmas and New Year could prove troublesome. The university would be closed for the holidays and young Josh would be at home with his family. He couldn’t just turn up at his house. For a start, he would have his father to contend with. He was bound to want to know who this oddly familiar-looking stranger was turning up at the front door.
Josh’s bus had reached town by now, on a morning that was cold and clear. The snow had stopped and the sky was beginning to brighten as the sun neared the horizon.
Getting off the bus, he made for the Covered Market, a welcome familiar place which, like Mario’s, seemed immune to the passage of time. Making his way through the historic alleys, past butchers setting up their fayre for the day, he walked down to one of the cafés at the back for a good, old-fashioned fry-up. Despite his late-night feast of pies and crisps, he was already hungry again.
It was early and he was the first customer in the café. With uncertainty over where he was going and when he would eat again, he decided to breakfast like a king. He chose the largest offering on the menu, the one that came with two of everything. Before long, he was soon tucking into a plate generously laden with bacon, eggs and sausages, washing it down with copious amounts of coffee.
Having gone through all the options, he had decided against contacting anyone for the time being. So where could he go next? Another hotel would seem his best option, but it was the wrong time of day for that. The earliest he would be able to book in would be lunchtime, so that left him with a few more hours to kill.
By then the tachyometer might have started working again and he could risk another jump. It had taken him four days back in time before. Would it do the same again? If he could get back to mid-December, he might be able to find the Josh or Professor Hamilton at the university.
His only other option was to wait around a couple of weeks for everyone to get back from the festivities, and he really didn’t have the patience for that, not to mention the money. Using the tachyometer to steal money from the cashpoint was no longer an option – like most of its functions, he needed the screen lit up to do that.
Washing down his last piece of sausage with a swig of coffee, he made up his mind. He would wait for the device to charge up again and attempt another jump. Recalling his embarrassing arrival in the midst of the couple having sex, he also vowed to ensure that this time he was somewhere safe.
That time came by mid-afternoon. After a morning spent wandering aimlessly around shops in Oxford, he was relieved when the sole working light on the device once again glowed a reassuring green.
He headed for Christ Church Meadow, for his favourite spot behind an ancient tree which he had used many times before for his jumps. This area was a popular place in the summer, but there was no one around today. This was hardly surprising, given the weather. The early sunny start had been replaced by a relentless drizzle out of leaden skies that was turning last night’s snow to slush already. It was hardly conducive to walks in the park. Even the ducks on the River Cherwell behind the tree looked depressed, and they were supposed to like that sort of thing.
There was no point hanging around here any longer. Activating the device, he stepped forward, wondering where his next jump would take him.
Chapter Eleven
December 2024
As was often the case, the most noticeable sign he had jumped was the weather. Drizzly wet skies were instantly replaced by a dazzling blue, making him wish he had packed a pair of dark glasses. The sun, gorgeous and orange, was close to the western horizon. It looked very warm but lacked the power to heat the air. It was noticeably colder than the time he had just left.
His hunch was that he had again jumped a few days back in time. Heading out of the park, he made straight for the newsagent’s booth in the Covered Market. The Christmas decorations were still up all around the market, so he knew he hadn’t travelled far in time. At the booth, he picked up a paper and checked the date.
It was Friday 20th December in the same year, which meant he had travelled back a total of eight days this time. A pattern was starting to emerge. The first time he had jumped back two days. Next it had been four, and now it was eight.
He was reminded of the original time bubble which had sent people into the future. That had doubled each time someone had entered. Now the tachyometer seemed to be producing a reverse effect, doubling his distance back in time each jump.
If this was the case, he would know for certain next time he jumped because he would be sixteen days further back in the past. That wouldn’t be for a while. The power indicator on the wand was on red again and would presumably stay that way for the rest of this day at least.
He was once again going to be in search of a bed for the night, but he didn’t fancy the travel tavern again. The place was soulless and depressing and that wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed to find somewhere better.
His eyes were drawn away from the date by the newspaper headline which screamed out:
ROCKSTAR ANDY GREEN DEAD AT 47
He didn’t remember a rockstar called Andy Green and Josh knew his music well. Still, the name was vaguely familiar. Where did he know it from? He scrutinised the accompanying picture of the dead singer. It wasn’t just the name that was familiar. He had seen that face before, long ago.
Perhaps it would come to him later. He walked over to the kiosk to pay for the paper, intending to read more as soon as he was settled into his hotel. If he was going to be stuck here for a while it would be a good idea to familiarise himself with what was going on in the world.
The paper was a good start, but what he really needed was internet access. This would require a little effort on his part. In his era, practically every device could talk and was in a state of ‘always on’, but here he’d need to acquire a device that could use good, old-fashioned Wi-Fi.
He walked up from the Covered Market towards Cornmarket Street where he found an old-fashioned mobile phone shop. He just needed something basic that would allow him to access the internet without eating too much into his funds.
Getting a high-spec device on a contract would be impossible in this time when he had no official identity or even an address. Attempting to pass himself off as his younger, twenty-something self on his futuristic driving licence would be certain to fail.
Getting a phone on an old-fashioned, pay-as-you-go 5G contract was also a non-starter. He would still have to give some personal details and they would have to activate it for him. Even if he did manage to get them to do this, he would probably not be able to use it once he jumped back in time again. Then he wou
ld be in a time prior to activation.
In the end, he decided to buy a cheap tablet with no 5G access at all, figuring he could just use it on Wi-Fi in hotspots. As long as the hotel he booked himself into had free Wi-Fi, he could use that at his leisure.
With his new tablet safely in his backpack, he turned his attention to the question of where to stay. Much as he would have loved to have booked into the Randolph or another upmarket hotel, he still had to manage his funds. He might need to stay here for a while. If the tachyometer really was doubling his jumps, he was going to need to ration them, otherwise he would be back in medieval times before he knew it. Before jumping again, he needed to rest, recuperate and take stock of his situation.
Making his way down Abingdon Road, he found a family-run guest house that he could stay in for just £80 a night. It was quiet, affordable, and most importantly, it had Wi-Fi.
Settled in his room, he picked up the newspaper again and read the tributes to the dead rockstar. Most of the first eight pages were taken up by dedications to him. This sort of coverage was only reserved for major stars, so why had Josh never heard of him?
Reading on, he discovered that the mysterious Andy Green had become a huge global star after winning a TV reality show in the early noughties. Looking through his pictures, he again had the uncanny feeling that he had met the man before. When he read in the obituary that the deceased was from his own home town, he suddenly realised who he was.
He did know him and his name was indeed Andy Green but he was no rockstar in Josh’s world. He was just a lowlife drunk, the sort that could be found propping up the bars in any town. Josh remembered that this Andy had been more or less a permanent fixture at the bar in The Red Lion back in the days before the Black Winter.
He had also been one of the first people to enter the time bubble, observed by Josh and Charlie on the very first day they had discovered it. So how was it that he was now apparently a dead rockstar?
Further down the article, Josh found something even more unsettling. Apparently Prime Minister Ed Miliband had paid tribute to the star, saying his music had been inspirational to him during his early political career. It was the sort of guff all politicians came out with on such occasions, but it wasn’t Miliband’s sincerity or lack of it that concerned Josh.
It was the fact that Ed Miliband was Prime Minister that stood out. The evidence now was irrefutable. The damaged tachyometer wasn’t just taking him back in time; it was taking him to other universes as well. Was this a result of the splintering effect of what had happened in the hospital? If so, did he have any hope of ever getting back? He couldn’t hope for any rescue from Alice now. Even if she was looking for him, how could she know which universe he was in?
What had caused this universe to deviate from the path his own had? How had Andy become a rockstar, and how had Ed Miliband become Prime Minister? Was it down to something he or one of his other selves had done?
For the first time since he had started on this lifelong quest to conquer the secrets of time travel, he began to experience feelings of regret and fear. The realisation that he might be trapped in the past forever was bringing negative emotions to the fore. Alice had warned him over and over to be careful but he had been blasé about it and now he had paid the price. Things had got seriously out of hand.
He lay back on the bed, close to tears at his predicament. All these years of tinkering and experimenting and where had it got him? Lost in the past, in another universe, with a device that could only send him further and further back in time each time he used it. Next time it would be sixteen days, then thirty-two. If the time he was in now seemed unfamiliar, what was it going to be like when he started travelling back further into history – perhaps to a time before he had even been born? And how different might some of the other universes turn out to be?
The prospects were frightening. In his head, he started to make a few mental calculations based on the assumption of the doubling of each trip. Within five more jumps he would be more than a year in the past. Another five would take him back into the 20th century. The prospects of finding any assistance that far back in time would be remote.
If he was going to get out of this, he needed to find help sooner rather than later. By far his best hope would be to track down his younger self in the current universe to explain his predicament. Then, perhaps his counterpart could come back from the future to help him, just as he had helped his own younger self that time with the helicopter.
It was the only plan he had on the table for the moment, and was certainly a better choice than taking another trip with the tachyometer. Only if he could not get help in this world would he use it again.
Since it seemed he was going to be staying for a while, he needed to sort out a few things, not least of which was a fresh set of clothes and some toiletries. He would go into town, get what he needed, have a decent meal with a much-needed bottle of wine, then come back and enjoy a nice, long soak in the bath and a decent night’s sleep. Seeking out his younger self could wait until tomorrow.
The following morning, suitably refreshed, he left the hotel, booking himself in for another night as a precaution. With no idea what the day would hold he was unsure if he would be coming back or not.
He packed as much stuff as he could squeeze into his backpack, leaving most of his dirty clothes behind. If he managed to find a way home today, he wasn’t going to be bothered about them.
He walked through the centre of Oxford, and made his way to the station to catch the train to his home town. His plan was to go straight to his family home. If his life here hadn’t deviated from his own, then that was where his younger self ought to be. He would be twenty-three years old and living back at home, prior to getting a flat with Alice a year or two later.
It was Saturday and he didn’t have to wait long for a train. Getting a seat proved out of the question, though. The train was packed with visitors to the designer shopping mall outside his town. It attracted thousands of people every day from all over the world.
Josh was a little nervous about knocking on the door of his family home. Would they recognise him? They had no reason to. Although there might be a family resemblance, there was no reason whatsoever why any of them could even contemplate the possibility of an older version of him turning up out of the blue.
Was going straight to the front door the right idea or not? Might it not be better to wait for Josh to go out? Possibly, that would avoid any awkward conversations with other members of the family. But it was cold, and he was impatient. He had come this far: he couldn’t wait any longer.
In 2024, Josh’s family had lived on Magnolia Avenue in a large, detached house. It was a new build completed a few years previously and had cost over half a million pounds. His father had his own building business and had done well enough out of it for them to afford it.
As Josh approached the house where he had spent his late teenage years, he recognised his father’s van outside, which had Geoff Gardner and Son, General Builders printed along the side.
That was a promising start. The son didn’t refer to Josh, but rather his elder brother. He had taken over the business after his father had died, and was still running it in the 2050s, along with his own son.
Josh had mixed feelings about the possibility of seeing his parents again. Both had died many years ago and he had only visited them once in the past since he had begun time-travelling. That was to attend their wedding day in 1992 and Josh had found the whole experience so bittersweet that he had decided not to do so again.
Now circumstances had led him to their door, but it wasn’t them he had come to see. Ideally he wanted to avoid them. His father would be bound to want to know who this middle-aged man was calling for his son on Saturday lunchtime. He always wanted to know everybody’s business. Attempting to explain the truth would be pointless – he knew his father would dismiss him as a conman, his usual take on people he didn’t know or trust.
Josh noticed that the fro
nt garden looked a bit of a mess. There were weeds growing all over the lawn which surprised him. His father had always kept it immaculate. Hoping this wasn’t a sign of anything untoward he strode up to the front door and rang the bell.
It took an age for anyone to answer and when the door opened, as expected by Josh’s father, he was shocked by what he saw.
“Who are you? What do you want?” bellowed his father.
The blunt manner and aggressive questioning weren’t completely out of character for his father, who had always been blunt in his approach to people. But his appearance was all wrong.
He looked dishevelled, tired and much older than Josh had expected. He was also in his dressing gown, which was unheard of for his father at this time of day. He had always been an early riser, a keen devotee of that old proverb ‘the early bird catches the worm’.
It seemed he had let himself go, just as much as he had neglected the front lawn. Josh would need to tread carefully.
“I’m a friend of Josh’s,” he said, swiftly adding, “from the university” by way of explanation.
“Are you taking the piss?” replied his father. “What are you, some sort of journalist, after a cheap story? You people make me sick.”
“No, honestly, I’m a good friend of his,” replied Josh. This conversation wasn’t going according to plan at all. “I’m a lecturer at the university. We’ve been working together on a project.”
“If you really were a friend of Josh’s, you would know he’s not here. He’s not been here for a long time.”
“Where is he, then?” replied Josh.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” replied his father, almost trembling. Josh had never seen him looking this upset. He had been a tough, powerful man with a strong voice to match, but now his tone was wavering.
“Are you alright, Dad,” blurted out Josh, without thinking.
“Dad?” exclaimed his father angrily. “What sort of sicko are you? Get off my property now, or I’ll call the police.”
