Button in the Fabric of Time (3 page)

“No,” Darla spoke up. “He didn’t smile at
you; he smiled at me. . . . He looked a lot like Augustus
Wilder.”

“Ah, come on, Darla! Augustus is only a boy.
Did anybody see him walk in?” the constable asked.

“He didn’t walk in, he just suddenly appeared
over there,” Jim responded, pointing at a stool. “He sat right
there at the counter, didn’t talk to anyone, but he sure looked the
place over. He seemed to know me. And, as Darla said, he looked a
little like Augustus Wilder.”

“Well, he was sure no thief,” the constable
noted. “This watch is worth a lot more than his breakfast.”

Shaking his head in confusion, Jack asked the
constable, “Don’t you think you ought to look for him?”

The constable’s face mirrored Jack’s
confusion as he said, “Now, let’s see if I’ve got this right.
Nobody saw this man come in, nobody knows him, and nobody saw him
leave. He left a watch worth many times the price of his breakfast,
and you want me to look for him? Where do you suggest I look, and
for whom?” Smiling as he walked out the door, he asked, “You’re not
selling whiskey in here are you, Jack?”

* * * * *

Chapter 4

My first attempt at time travel hadn’t worked
out well, but I’d learned a lot about how to use the time-travel
button. Now I’ve got to decide what to do with it. I sat in my
living room pondering the possibilities.

I could travel back in time and have a
conversation with Plato, or I could travel even farther back and
discover the origin of man, then travel into the distant future and
know the human destiny. Maybe that’s asking a little too much of a
button that’s bound to have limitations. I hope I don’t find out
what those limitations are by accident.

Going back in time would be interesting, but
what has happened, has happened. I could observe the historical
events as they occur and perhaps correct the mistakes historians
made in recording it, but I couldn’t change anything. It would
probably be a mistake to change anything even if I could, so I’ll
go into the future. Maybe I can learn something that will be
helpful. There’s no reason to take time off from work, since I can
return to the present time anytime I want to, and no one will ever
know that I’ve been gone.

I was excited about what I might find by
traveling into the future. Things were really screwed up in the
world right now, and I wanted to know if reason would prevail, and
humanity would progresses into a bright new future—or will
ignorance, bigotry, and greed prevail, and we find ourselves
engaged in a major war? If I knew the answers to those questions, I
might be able to make a difference.

On the chance that I might not return, I
wrote a message on a pad of paper explaining where I had gone, and
placed the pad next to the telephone. No one would believe the
message even if they read it, but I’d leave it anyway. I’ll destroy
it when I get back. I’ll get some sleep now, and tomorrow I’ll
decide what to take with me into the future.

Next morning, I woke up excited and eager to
go. I had no way of knowing what I might find in the future or what
I might need. I didn’t want to overload myself, so I took only the
essentials. I’d be traveling at the speed of thought, and since
there’s no lapse of time while traveling, the only way I would
know, to what time I had traveled, was to predetermine the
time.

I knew that traveling into the future was
risky, and I wanted to travel far enough to find out which way
humanity was going. Theologians were saying that we are in the “end
times,” and that the world is in for a thousand years of strife. If
they’re right, I could find myself in a very uncomfortable
situation. I hoped that if I zapped myself into a place I didn’t
like, I could zap out again.

* * *

I put my backpack on, visualized downtown Los
Angeles one hundred years into the future, and rubbed the button.
Suddenly, a new environment appeared. I looked around but saw
nothing that even resembled what Los Angeles had been at the time I
left.

A great city lay in shambles. Piles of broken
concrete with rusting reinforcing bars extended into the air. The
rank odor of decay escaped from the rubble. To confirm that I was
really in Los Angeles, I took readings with my navigational
equipment. I was indeed at the location that had once been Los
Angeles. My Geiger counter was clicking away. It was obvious that
atomic bombs had fallen, perhaps many years in the past. Radiation
levels were so high that I wouldn’t be able to endure them for
long.

What appeared to be second generation
humans—their bodies distorted as the result of radiation—were
living in the rubble and scavenging for food. When they saw me,
they ran toward me, brandishing crude weapons made of concrete
reinforcing bars. They had shaped the iron bars in ways that
enabled them to impale their victims.

To escape from these pitiful creatures, I
concentrated on a concrete structure on a mountain, then rubbed the
red portion on my button and was instantly standing beside the
burned-out planetarium. I could see the entire Los Angeles basin
from where I stood. The ruins of the city lay before me—it had died
in a moment of extreme violence.

I was shocked and stunned, but I wanted to
get a closer look, so I rubbed the button and moved to a place high
among the rubble of concrete that extended above the heart of what
had been the city and watched dejectedly as the sun slid down the
empty sky. At twilight, the branches of long-dead trees stood
silent and still, their starkness silhouetted against the copper
glow of a sun that had set on what seemed to be a dying world.
Darkness silently moved in like a beast of prey with its claws
extended. Shrouded in the deepening shadows, peering eyes watched.
Danger hung in the air like a gallows blade waiting to fall.

Animals, both human and non-human, crawled
from their burrows in the rubble to search for food. . . . They
searched for anything that might give them comfort. Like wild
animals, they fought for the tiniest morsel. They even fought for
and ate crawling things. Nothing could have prepared me for such a
sight. With a shiver running up my spine, I remorsefully rubbed the
red area on my button and moved to another spot. The new spot was
better, only because there had been fewer tall buildings and fewer
people at the time of the explosions. The remains of the freeways
were just ribbons of concrete extending into the distance.

I had gone too far into the future. It seemed
that some world leaders had gone too far in trying to satisfy their
insatiable greed, and religious fanatics had gone too far in trying
to force their religion upon those who wanted no part of it.
Whoever had dropped the bombs must have been insane. They had
destroyed a great city and, perhaps, the whole world. I left the
devastation because I could see no way to change what had happened,
or do anything to rectify the deplorable conditions of the poor
creatures who lived there. I rubbed white on the button and
returned to my living room where I sat thinking; I’ll have to find
another way.

I wanted to tell someone about what I had
seen, but who could I tell, and what could I tell them? My friends
were going about their lives completely oblivious to what was going
to happen. I didn’t even know who had started the war. It wouldn’t
matter what I said; no one would believe me. They would think I was
just another nutcase. If I were going to do anything about it, I
had to know more, and I had to move cautiously to avoid being
killed by the fallout. I didn’t want to die from the radiation of a
bomb, without even knowing who had dropped it, but before I could
do anything, I had to get cleaned up and discard my radiation
contaminated clothing.

* * *

Before I could determine the extent of the
damage, I had to find a way to protect myself from the radiation.
My firm had built places for storing radioactive material and our
workers wore radiation-shielding suits to protect themselves. I
could get one of those suits and search the globe to find out if
there were places that had not been destroyed, but first, I had to
decontaminate myself. I placed everything I had worn, including the
backpack, in the incinerator and burned it, then wrapped the ashes
in lead foil, and buried it deep in the ground. I scrubbed myself
until I was free of contamination, and then I put on fresh things.
I replenished my equipment and put my supplies in a new
backpack.

If I were going to make a difference, I had
to know why this terrible thing had happened. A newspaper was
laying on my door step, so I picked it up and read the headlines. .
. . Five more US servicemen killed in Iraq—Stock market reaches new
high as consumer confidence slumps—Major manufacturing company lays
off 50,000—Wages going down while prices are going up—The middle
class is under attack—Jobs being sent overseas—Medical costs
soaring—Insurance costs forcing doctors to leave the profession
while insurance companies fail to pay claims.

This type of headlines went on and on.
Shaking my head, I laid the newspaper aside. I wasn’t sure the
world was worth saving, but I still wanted to know who had dropped
the first bomb. I asked myself, “Why do some people want to kill
other people?” I compiled a list of the reasons. It was
surprisingly short: People will kill for food, water, shelter, and
clothing. They will kill to defend their life, property, country,
and they will kill to remain free. The things thousands die for
are: God, honor, and greed. Few men will die to fulfill their own
greed, but millions die to support the greed of their leaders, and
they do it in the name of patriotism. Some of our best and bravest
die for their country, and at last, some are beginning to ask, why
do our leaders, or our leaders’ sons, never die for
their
country?

Religious leaders tell their followers that
they must be willing to die to defend their God, but only a
complete nut would believe that the Creator of the Universe would
need the protection of men. Still, there seemed to be billions of
nuts.

Puzzled and frustrated, I put the radiation
protection on and, by using the time-travel button, transported
back to the time of the devastation. I then traveled around the
globe, trying to determine the extent of the damage. Most major
cities and military installations had been destroyed. The
agricultural areas of most continents had been spared. Radiation
levels had been low enough in those areas that a few people had
survived, and they were learning to deal with their problems.
Humans were proving to be resilient.

I talked to anyone who would talk to me, but
they were shocked by my strange appearance. I told them that I was
a newspaper reporter and that seemed to allay their fears. Most
merely shook their heads and walked away, but others spoke freely.
They explained that greed and religion had brought about fear and
anger, which had escalated into a nuclear war.

Nations in the Middle East that had felt
unable to respond to the overwhelming force of America and its
European allies were desperate. These desperate men had a nuclear
bomb and, not understanding the consequences, used it. One bomb had
led inevitably to many—like the first shot that started the
Revolutionary War—and I was observing the consequences.

* * *

I failed to note the exact date of the
bombing. The things I saw were terrifying, and I didn’t want to go
back to determine the date. While looking for places that the bombs
had not destroyed, I was pleased to see that the family farm was in
a location that had been relatively unfazed. I wanted to check on
my family, but first I had to know if humanity could survive. There
was only one way to find out and that was by going far into the
future—but how far would be far enough? I knew that radiation from
nuclear fallout took a long time to diminish, so I decided to go
forward a thousand years.

* * * * *

I checked the items in my backpack and
concentrated on the date July 7, 3107. With my heart pounding, I
squinted, placed my thumb on the blue section and rubbed. The
button; it emitted a high-pitched hum, and immediately, I was
standing in a beautiful park. This is not what I had expected!
Something must have gone wrong! Nine hundred years ago, this was a
city that had been devastated by an atomic blast! Now, green
vegetation grew everywhere, and there was not a soul in sight.

Animals of every type grazed verdant meadows,
birds filled the air, and squirrels played in the trees . . . but
there was something different about these animals. Lions and wolves
were mingling with sheep and cows, and the grazing animals seemed
unafraid.

Prepared to zap out of danger, I walked
slowly toward the animals, expecting them to run away. But they
didn’t run away, they were running toward me. As a farm boy, I
could tell when an animal intended to harm me. But there was
nothing threatening about the behavior of these animals. Even
though I knew they meant me no harm, it was still difficult to
remain calm, with an adult lion running at me. When the lion got to
me, it rubbed its head against my leg and licked my hand.
Cautiously, I scratched its ears and patted its back. The lion
emitted what sounded like a lion’s version of a purr. The other
animals gathered around wanting to be petted. These animals were
tame and in excellent health, but how were they contained? There
were no fences. How could predators and prey live together
peacefully?

A stream of clean water about fifty feet wide
ran through the area. That was odd, because this is where my house
had sat, and there were no streams anywhere near my house. The
climate must have changed!

I carefully searched for evidence of the
great city that had been here at the time I left. Nothing indicated
that anyone had ever lived here. While trying to understand how
such a major change could have occurred, I sat on the roots of an
old tree enjoying the gentle breeze and the fragrance of flowers. I
listened to the birds singing, and watched squirrels playing in the
branches of the tree. I strained my ears trying to hear a familiar
sound, but nothing gave me a clue as to what kind of place I had
landed in. There were no noises of any kind. The place was
peaceful, almost to the point of being ethereal. It was so
different from what I had expected that I was eager to explore.