by Jason Ayres
Without a home, little money and no way of identifying himself, things were not looking particularly promising. He also had the additional worry that the police were probably still looking for him, particularly after he’d robbed the woman on the bus.
That meant he could not risk trying to get into any of his old bank accounts or email addresses, in the unlikely event that they even still existed after all this time. The police would be bound to be watching. As for social media, if it even still existed in any recognisable form, that was off-limits, too. Anything he did was bound to leave a trace. No, he would have to forget about looking for Josh and Charlie for the time being.
So that left Jess as his only realistic lead. At least he had a starting point for her. He could go back to the house where the party had been held and find out if she still lived there. Even if she didn’t, he might be able to get a forwarding address. It wasn’t a great deal to go on, but it was a start.
Finishing his cheap and nasty cup of tea, he realised that he was ravenously hungry. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for Dan. He loved food but today he was exceptionally hungry. All he’d had the previous day was chocolate and biscuits, and that wasn’t enough. He needed meat.
Fortunately, his room rate included the buffet breakfast downstairs. Flicking through the hotel welcome guide in his room, he discovered that breakfast was served from 7am to 10am. It was 8.15am, which gave him plenty of time to indulge himself.
He took a shower, got dressed, scraped the last of the dog mess off his shoes, and headed on down to the restaurant.
He stopped at the entrance by a sign that said, “Please wait to be seated” and cast his eyes around the restaurant. Apart from a few business types, it wasn’t busy at all. It was very quiet, the only sounds being the clinking of spoons on cups and the radio playing in the background, an old pop hit that he recognised from the 2020s.
He realised that, although Jones had told him the date, he had no idea what day of the week it was. He guessed it must be a weekday, but which one?
He looked around to see if there were any newspapers in the room but he couldn’t see any. He would have to ask.
The waitress approached, a slim, short, middle aged-woman with grey hair tied up in a bun. She was dressed in the all-black uniform of the hotel chain. She smiled and asked him for his room number.
As she led him to the table, Dan asked, “Do you have any newspapers?”
“Do you mean printed newspapers?” she replied, looking at him with a faint look of amusement. “No, we haven’t had them for years.”
“Never mind,” said Dan. The way she’d looked at him, he may as well have asked for a wax tablet.
“Would you like tea or coffee?” she asked.
“Oh coffee, definitely,” he replied. It would take away the taste of the foul tea he had drunk earlier.
“All your cereals are over there,” she said, “and help yourself to the hot buffet as soon as you are ready,” she said.
“I will,” said Dan, “thank you.” And he certainly intended to. He was going to load himself up with as much food as he could lay his hands on. The hotel room had cost him most of the cash he’d stolen the previous day, and he had no idea when he might eat again.
With everything laid out on trays, he could be as greedy as he liked. Dan had always had a gluttonous streak and any sort of “Eat as much as you like” buffet always brought out the worst in him.
By the time he sat back down, he was eagerly ready to devour what lay in front of him: four sausages, five rashers of bacon, three fried eggs, three slices of black pudding, beans, mushrooms, and four slices of toast. A breakfast fit for a king, Dan thought to himself.
It didn’t take long to wolf it all down, and he still found room for a pain-au-chocolat and a Danish pastry for dessert. When the waitress wasn’t looking, he also slipped a banana into his pocket for later. He ignored the notice that read: “Please may we respectfully ask guests not to remove food from the restaurant”.
He would have liked to have taken more, but unfortunately there wasn’t much you could smuggle out in a pair of jeans that had been a waist size too small for him when he’d entered the restaurant, which now felt more like two.
As he was finishing his pastry, the news came onto the radio: the same bulletin that Jess was listening to on the other side of town.
Nervously he looked around him, and then down at the Wasps shirt he was wearing. No one seemed to be taking much notice. He reassured himself by thinking, why would they? A travelling businessman sitting in a hotel hearing a news story about some local escaped prisoner was hardly likely to be expecting to encounter him over his cornflakes.
The waitress was also busying herself taking orders and was apparently taking no notice of the news on the radio.
Reassured, and fully loaded up with food, Dan felt ready to face the world. Those that had conspired against him were about to find out they had messed with the wrong man.
Checkout was swift and efficient, and by 10am he was on his way, heading back into town on foot with only one destination in mind: the house where the party had taken place 22 years ago. That was where all his troubles had started.
Now he was intending to bring them to an end.
Chapter Thirteen
September 2063
When the doorbell rang, Jess jumped up eagerly from the kitchen table where she’d been drinking her coffee and reading the morning’s “newspaper”. Like most people in the mid-21st century, she read hers through the built-in touchpad in the kitchen table. It was still possible to get a few paper copies in specialist outlets, but they were disappearing fast.
It was no wonder that Dan’s request for a paper in the restaurant had been met with such bemusement.
Fearful that Dan might try to track her down after what she had heard on the radio, she had rung Charlie and Kaylee straightaway. Kaylee was in a holographic conference with her weather control project team in Australia, but Charlie had promised to come over right away.
“That was quick,” she thought to herself, not expecting him to arrive so soon. Without thinking, she flung open the front door, only to be confronted by the aggressive and intimidating figure of Dan on the doorstep.
Horrified, she tried to slam the door in his face, but it was too late: he was already pushing his way in.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, looking closely at her face as she retreated away from him towards the stairs. “We’ve got some unfinished business.”
He had recognised her instantly, but couldn’t help noticing the difference 22 years had made. Her face was showing unmistakeable signs of aging, with lines in places where before there had only been smooth, youthful skin.
“You’ve let yourself go, you wrinkly bitch,” he remarked cruelly.
“And you’re still an ugly, fat twat,” she responded.
Jess may have been terrified, but she was full of the gutsy spirit she’d inherited from her mother.
Dan grabbed her tightly by her wrists and wheeled her around. They were at the foot of the stairs, directly behind the front door and he was keen to get her out of sight. Letting go of one arm briefly, he slammed the door, then taking hold of her again, he pushed her through the open doorway that led into the living room.
“Get in there!” he shouted. “You’ve got some explaining to do. Now sit down and start talking.” He pushed her backwards onto the sofa.
Jess thought quickly. Charlie was on his way, she knew that. She also knew what Dan was capable of. He might be stronger than her, but she knew that she had one big advantage over him. It was all a matter of time and she had a 22-year head start over him. She was confident that he would have no idea about the latest implants that had more or less taken the place of mobile phones.
Silently, without there being any way of him knowing, she activated the emergency call button directly from her brainwaves. She was now connected to the emergency services and he wouldn’t have the slightest inkling that they’d be
listening in to every word. It was a far more effective form of defence than the old rape alarms that women had carried in the past.
Help would certainly be coming from some quarter. Who would get there first, Charlie or the police, she didn’t know. All she knew was that now she had to play for time.
She did her best to recover her composure and asked him, “What…what do you want to know?” deliberately stammering over the first word to create the appearance that she was more nervous than she actually was.
Her line of reasoning was that if he thought she was in his power and no threat to him, he’d be lulled into a false sense of security and would be less likely to harm her.
“You set me up,” accused Dan. “You and the others who were at that party tricked me into coming down to that tunnel with you and then somehow you sent me forward 22 years in time.”
Jess thought about how best to reply. In front of her retina she could see a red light blinking. The emergency services were listening in. She had to play this very carefully. She couldn’t admit to knowing anything about time travel: her best bet was to deny everything and make them believe she was dealing with some sort of madman.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied. “Are you seriously suggesting that you’ve somehow travelled through time?”
“Look at me,” he said. “When did you last see me? 22 years ago. Do I look any older?”
She gave a deliberately vague answer. “Some people age faster than others,” she said. “I can’t really remember what you looked like before, to be honest, or how long ago it was since I last saw you. It’s been donkey’s years.
She paused and then added “In fact, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that you were dead.”
This wasn’t a lie. His mysterious disappearance all those years ago hadn’t gone unnoticed. She’d heard it mentioned a few times afterwards in general gossip around the town. A few years later her mother had told her that he’d been declared officially dead.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” replied Dan. “You know exactly what’s going on here and I want to know the truth. You had better start talking, because you’re not going anywhere until you do.”
“I don’t know anything, I’ve told you. What do you expect me to say? You barge into my house with some crazy tale about being a time traveller, and now you’re taking me hostage. Have you gone completely mad?”
That ought to be enough to get the police despatched to her location, thought Jess, remembering the radio report from earlier. This would be the second time in two days he’d forced his way into somebody’s house. Hopefully they would keep a tighter hold on him this time.
“You do know something, you were all in it together,” replied Dan. “You, that teacher, Charlie and Josh. And you are going to tell me, or else,” he added.
“Or else what?” she replied. “You’ll kill me, like you did Lauren?”
That was really hitting below the belt but it was effective. She could see the shock in his face as it hit home. Perhaps she had gone too far.
Dan felt the guilt that had haunted him for so long over Lauren’s death come flooding back. It didn’t make him merely remorseful this time, though, it also made him very angry. How dare she?
“Why, you little slag,” he said, moving towards her. She shrank back on the sofa. Gutsy she may have been, but now she was beginning to fear for her life. Fortunately at that moment, the doorbell rang.
Stopping abruptly, just as he was about to grab her, he hissed, “Who’s that?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “Probably just a drone making a delivery. I’m waiting in for an order.”
“Answer it,” he said. “And if it’s not a delivery, get rid of whoever it is. And don’t try anything silly. I’ll be right behind you.”
She got up, walked back through the doorway into the hallway, and opened the front door. Standing in front of her was Charlie.
“Hi, Jess,” said Charlie. “Is everything OK?”
“Don’t come in!” she shouted. “He’s found me!”
“You stupid cow,” shouted Dan, rushing into the hallway, now brandishing a kitchen knife. He pushed Jess back onto the stairs behind him, and held the knife out threateningly towards Charlie who was standing in front of him.
“Well, what a surprise, fancy you turning up as well, and looking so old,” remarked Dan, sarcastically. “Get in here. I want to talk to you.”
Charlie held his ground on the doorstep.
“Calm down, Dan,” he said. “Clearly you’re very confused about something. Now why don’t you put the knife down and tell me what’s been going on?”
“You know full well what’s been going on!” he shouted, seemingly becoming increasingly deranged. “You and your mates tricked me into travelling in time and now I’m stuck here in the future with no home and no money and I want to go back. And if you don’t help me, I’ll kill the pair of you.”
That was the trigger the police needed. They had arrived at the same time as Charlie. Together they had agreed that they would remain out of sight while Charlie checked out what was happening.
Unseen by Dan, they were listening on the pavement, crouched down below the four foot-high hedge that ran along the front of the garden.
“Get down, Charlie,” shouted Jones. He hadn’t taken any chances this time and had come prepared. There was no way Dan was going to evade him again.
Before Dan could react, Charlie ducked out of the way. Jones stepped into view and fired the latest hi-tech Taser device directly into Dan’s chest. The weapon was incredibly accurate, guided by the latest tracking technology developed by the military. Even Jones, a notoriously bad darts player, couldn’t miss.
Dan’s body jerked several times with the high voltage passing through it, before he collapsed to the ground, completely incapacitated.
“He’s all yours, boys,” said Jones, as two men in paramedic uniforms wheeled a stretcher down the path, and strapped Dan securely to it.
Jones had arranged for him to be detailed in a high-security psychiatric unit until he could work out what to do with him. Whether or not he’d be prosecuted for his crimes, Jones wasn’t sure yet, but there was one thing he was quite sure of. The man was clearly deranged.
In an ideal world, he’d have preferred a traditional “collar”, but with all that had happened he knew that any solicitor getting involved in the case would invariably plead insanity.
“Are you two alright?” he asked Charlie and Jess. They seemed none the worse for their ordeal, but then that didn’t surprise him in Jess’s case. He knew her well from the days when he’d worked with her mother. It would have taken more than something like this to faze Superintendent Benson. Jess was clearly a chip off the old block.
“We’ll be fine,” said Charlie, playing along with the scenario. “This poor guy’s clearly lost the plot. Get him the best help you can, won’t you?”
“He certainly needs it,” said Jones. “I’ll need to come back and get a statement off you later, Jess,” he added.
“That’s no problem,” replied Jess. “I’ll be at home all day. Call round anytime.”
Charlie and Jess went back into the house and the ambulance pulled away, taking a heavily restrained Dan with it.
In the back of the ambulance he sank into the depths of despair, knowing that he was further away than ever from any hope of finding his way back to the past.
Chapter Fourteen
October 2049
“You know, we still haven’t really answered the question about whether or not history can be changed,” remarked Josh, as he and Alice sat in the lab eating their lunch.
They had been extremely busy all morning making plans for Josh’s trip back to the day of Lauren’s death. It had gone 1pm before they knew it, and having skimped on breakfast in order to get started, they were both extremely hungry.
Rather than eat in the cafeteria, they were keen to press on with
the work, so Josh had nipped out to the shop across the road to buy a couple of sandwiches, crisps and some drinks.
“Maybe we ought to try some small experiments with changing things and see what happens,” suggested Alice, in-between mouthfuls of her tuna and mayonnaise baguette.
“That’s pretty risky,” replied Josh. “We’ve no idea how much effect even a small amount of tinkering might have. Remember the butterfly effect we talked about?”
“I do,” replied Alice. They had discussed chaos theory at length a few weeks earlier, the gist of which was that even a seemingly tiny event such as a butterfly flapping its wings could ultimately trigger a hurricane.
“So far, on my trips back through time I’ve been incredibly careful,” continued Josh. “As far as we know, nothing’s changed, but even by being there, in theory I was having a potential effect on the future. Just walking along the street in Oxford, who knows what differences I might have made? I may have stood on an insect that would otherwise have laid thousands of eggs. By pressing the button to stop the traffic at a pedestrian crossing, I might have delayed a car that was going to run somebody over. There is just no way of knowing.”
“I can’t see anything you did being that big a deal,” replied Alice. “I completely get the whole concept of chaos theory, but I do think that the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings could cause a hurricane is far-fetched. As for your fictional insect you may have stepped on, well, there are millions of them. Could one of them dying really have a long-term effect on the world?”
“Well, you say that,” replied Josh, “but what if I went back in time a million years and squashed a bug that was going to lay eggs. How many millions of its descendants would not be born? How might that affect evolution?”
“It’s only a bug, though,” replied Alice. “It’s not as if they are particularly important. They all behave pretty similarly, don’t they? It’s not as if you went back in time and killed a human, someone whom millions of us who are descended from.”
