Jeremy Robinson - The Didymus Contingency

David paused before typing in a new set of coordinates. He had planned up to this point, but not beyond it. He didn’t know where he was going. David deduced that the most logical place to go was his own home, but when? If he went during the present, he would certainly be found out. Security had been tightened after a series of break-ins three years previous. David’s mind made a logical hop skip and jump to a related topic and he began to see his past and present merging again.

But there was that time…ten years ago. He had gone on vacation for a month, to Israel, visiting family. When he had returned, he found that his house had been burglarized. His food had been eaten, his fish, Franklin, which he had assumed he would find dead upon his return, had been fed and his computer had been used. David reported the incident to the police, but since there were no signs of forced entry and nothing more than food missing, they didn’t see the point in pursuing the matter. Besides, whoever it was had saved David’s fish. He now suspected that he was that burglar.

David punched the date and time into his watch, but before he could hit the last button, someone crashed into the room. Clutching the Time Recorder, David ducked behind a table full of equipment. He peeked out and saw Tom stumbling around the room, murmuring to himself about David and Megan, and saying, “I’m not drunk…I’m not drunk! I can drive fine!”

A heated debate exploded in David’s mind. He could end everything right here and now; he could stop Tom and end this nonsense. Or he could let Tom go and risk altering the past. But David couldn’t stop him, not until he knew for sure if time was being changed. Not until he knew whether or not Tom was who David suspected him to be. David watched as Tom picked up one of the nine remaining watches and strapped it to his wrist. Tom punched in some coordinates and with a bright flash and boom, disappeared into the past where he would befriend Jesus Christ.

“Dr. Goodman? Is that you?”

Eyes wide, David sat unmoving. He recognized Spencer’s voice. He was caught! David whipped around and faced Spencer. He didn’t remember Spencer saying anything about this encounter…but then, he did make that comment, what was it he said? “See you in the past.” It occurred to David that this meeting had already taken place. David grinned again; it seemed he was leaving unintentional breadcrumbs for himself.

“Yes, it’s me,” David said as he stood up.

“Do you know what happened? The computers detected a time fluctuation. Did someone go back?” Spencer was wide-awake and full of jittery energy.

“What are you doing here, Spencer? You don’t have to come in for another four hours.” David said, trying to move the subject to less dangerous topics.

“I…I never went home. Thought I could get some extra work in while no one was here. I went to go get some coffee and when I returned the computers were…I’m sorry. I should have told you I was staying.” Spencer was growing nervous.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re ambition is admirable and will take you far, I’m sure,” David said.

Then Spencer’s eyebrows sank. He was looking at David’s clothes. “Sir, why are you dressed like that?”

David walked to within a foot of Spencer, took him by the shoulders, looked him in the eyes and said, “Spencer, listen to me very carefully.”

The past snuck up on David and grabbed hold. Rather than testing his theory, which if proven, would ease his nerves and clear his mind of impending worldwide doom, David spent the afternoon rummaging through his own house. He explored the pine cupboards, which were now cherry wood and wondered how he had ever lived with the sixties-style linoleum floor. The house smelled differently, but was familiar, bringing back a wave of memories and emotions attached to the events of his life during this time. It was an amazing experience.

A two-liter bottle of Cherry Coke sat emptied on the counter. After rummaging through the fridge, David had found the soda and became perplexed by it. Cherry Coke? David remembered that during this time period Cherry Coke was the only cherry flavored soda available. It wasn’t his beloved Wild Cherry Pepsi, but it was sweet and David was happy to finish it. David turned his attention to edible food and devoured a large slice of apple pie he had felt bad about leaving to spoil ten years earlier. He fed Franklin enough food to keep him alive for the next week and looked through some photos, which in his future album were faded, but here, in this time, were fresh from the developers.

He flipped through images of himself and Tom, working hard on their dreams of time travel, posing next to the newly built semiconductor, faces smiling. They looked so young, so eager, so in over their heads. If only they knew how deep they’d eventually get, would they have continued with their work? David wondered.

David eventually made his way up the stairs and into his sparsely decorated office. The carpet was brown and the walls were covered with dark, wood paneling he and Tom would rip down a year later. The house had changed much over the years, but it still felt like home.

The room was impeccably clean and boring, David noted. Over the years, his penchant for neatness had taken leave for creative genius and not having time to clean. David pulled out the tower of his then top of the line Pentium I, 200-megahertz PC and installed the Time Recorder. It fit perfectly using the free serial port cable at the rear of the computer. He just prayed the ancient Windows 3.1 operating system would be able to detect and use the futuristic device. As David reached for the power button, he realized he had no idea what would happen next.

He felt his hands grow clammy. The past days had been filled with so many dramatic discoveries, breakthroughs and close calls, he wasn’t sure he would be prepared for the potential information this device would supply.

The computer whirred to life as David depressed the power button. David sighed with relief, but before all the air escaped from his chest, he sucked in a panicked breath. The computer screen flashed with vibrant colors and David feared he had fried the computer. Then again, David remembered the computer working fine when he had gotten home from Israel.

The screen went black for a moment and then a face appeared on the screen. David almost fell over backwards with shock as his own wizened and old eyes stared back at him.

“David, what I wouldn’t give to see your face when you see what this device proves. It’s changed the way we think about time and will provide you with the freedom to embark on a great adventure,” the voice of an older David echoed from the computer speakers.

David stared at his face on the screen, wrinkled and tan. Tan? Had he spent time in the sun? Before David could continue his line of thinking, the computerized recording continued its one-way dialogue.

“I know what you’re thinking, David,” the future David said. “You’ll be spending a few more days in the sun than you’re used to. Remember, I was once you sitting in front of our old computer monitor listening to myself talk to myself. Heh, I could make your life boring and tell you how things turn out, but that would ruin the fun now, wouldn’t it?”

The image of David leaned in close and smiled wide. “I will tell you one thing, though…”

David leaned closer to the computer as though he were about to hear a secret.

“Modern science will make amazing advances in dentistry in the future, so don’t trouble yourself with Tom’s teasing about your soda habit.”

David leaned back with a smile on his face. He was funny.

“Enjoy,” his future self said with a wink.

Then his face disappeared and was replaced by a black screen. Two sets of numbers appeared and began scrolling higher and higher, into the billions. Both numbers stopped at 598,098,982,001. Two jagged lines appeared, labeled True Time and Present Time. The lines stretched across the screen, stopped and then overlapped. They were identical. A number labeled Time Variance, in the bottom right of the screen, began to scroll backwards from 100. David watched eagerly, waiting to see his theory be proved by machinery created by his future self. The number stopped at 0.00000000000. David smiled as the message, “Time Variance Not Detected-Time Stream Intact,” appeared on the screen.