The Last Time Traveler Read online

  “That's your plan?!?!”

  “You got a better one, Morgan? If so, let's hear it.”

  “Well no... But I can see some problems with this one!”

  “Like what?”

  “Okay... Okay... We un-steal the Orb and disable his ship so he can't steal it, right?”

  “Right.” the traveler nodded.

  “Well... BAM! I mean, paradox! If he didn't steal it, we won't go back to un-steal it.”

  “If he didn't steal it we won't need to.”

  “Okay... but we won't even know it happened because it won't have.” Morgan pointed-out.

  “Normally that's true. But we'll be in Never Never Land in an independent time stream with our memories quite intact. How do you think we can tell what should happen in history, Morgan?”

  “Okay... but how do we disable his ship from Never Never Land?”

  “He does ask good questions,” Vox observed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

  “He does,” Doc agreed. “I wonder if I should try to recalibrate the machine again...”

  “Excellent, Morgan!” the traveler laughed, a wide smile on his face. “Truly excellent! That's right where I was headed. Cleo and Vox are going to build a device that will allow us to disable his ship from any place at any time. Then we go back to before he ever used his ship and install it. The device will be there the whole time but he'll never know it until it's too late, too late, too late, etc.”

  “Rob,” Cleo said, gazing at him, her eyes filled with awe. “You really are a super-genius.”

  “I know, right?” he replied, with a grin. “Now, to get started we're going to need to collect a Dorvient power crystal. I'm sure Vox and Cleo will need one to build the device.”

  “We might be able to do it without that,” Vox said, shaking his head. “I don't like the idea of having to go get another one.”

  “Why not?” Morgan asked.

  “Well, several reasons,” Vox replied, turning to look at the young man. “But mainly because the planet they come from is crawling with Kalasks.”

  “Not crawling,” Robert chuckled. “And we've got to have one. We can't chance using a less-reliable or less-powerful energy-source. We can't let this go wrong.”

  “What exactly is a Kalask?” Morgan asked.

  “Imagine a giant boa-constrictor,” Doc began, “with ten pairs of powerful legs, eyes placed so that it can see in three-hundred and sixty degrees, and a hinged mouth filled with great white shark teeth. Then make it very hard to kill and very, very angry. That's basically a Kalask. The reason we can safely take Dorvient power crystals without effecting the time-lines is because no advanced creatures ever managed to colonize the planet. And the reason for that is the Kalasks. Which, of course, means that it's perfectly safe to collect the crystals, provided you don't get eaten alive.”

  “Okay,” Morgan nodded. “But that raises another question.”

  “What's that?” Doc asked.

  “How is it you guys know to reference things I'm familiar with?” the young man asked. “I mean I'm not complaining or anything, but great white shark? Shouldn't you be using some space shark or asteroid snake as a reference point?”

  “Wow...” Cleo said. “He does ask good questions sometimes. Maybe the machine is wrong. I mean, I've seen him walk and talk at the same time myself.”

  “Well, Morgan,” Doc replied. “It's because we travel with, Rob. For some reason he's obsessed with Earth culture between the nineteenth and twenty-second centuries. So, unless you know all about that time and place you won't be able to understand half of what he says. Movies, television, plays, music, history, you pretty much have to know it all.”

  “How long did it take you to learn all that?”

  “Probably not quite as long as it took you to learn common...”

  “Oh... right...” Morgan nodded. “So, anyways, we're off to get some power crystals and avoid super snakes. Is that about the shape of it?”

  “Yep,” the traveler nodded. “That's about it. And, under the circumstances we need to be completely kitted out.”

  “What does that mean?” Morgan asked.

  “It means we need weapons and armor,” the traveler smiled.

  The five companions all rose and made their way to the ship's armory. Morgan stood in the middle of the empty room feeling less-than-impressed.

  “This doesn't seem to be much of an armory,” he said. “For one thing, there aren't any weapons in here. Or anything else.”

  “One sec, Morgan,” the traveler replied. “And I think we'll start with the armor.”

  As he said this he pushed a series of buttons on a nearby panel causing a long shelf filled with gray clothing to slide out of the wall.”

  “Cool!” Morgan exclaimed.

  “Indeed it is,” Doc smiled. “Now, grab a set in your size and go change.”

  Morgan selected a pair of shoes and pants, as well as a shirt, a jacket, and a baseball cap. Minutes later he was staring at his all gray wardrobe in the full length mirror in his room, shaking his head. He couldn't imagine why they wanted him to change... Unless the planet they were heading to was really muddy or something... As soon as he had taken a good look he headed back to the armory.

  He arrived to find that all of his companions were dressed exactly the same and was amazed at just how good Cleo carried off the all gray look.

  “What was the point of changing clothes?” Morgan asked.

  “Oh... This!” Robert replied, spinning around and kicking Morgan right in the gut.

  Instantly the cloth solidified, protecting the young man from the force of the attack.

  “That's amazing!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea you knew Karate!”

  “I know Kung-Fu,” the traveler chuckled, nodding his head. “And also, these clothes are actually armor.”

  “Oh yeah!” Morgan exclaimed glancing down at his stomach. “Awesome!”

  “It is,” Vox agreed. “Of course, normally we'd use personal shield generators. But we can't on this mission. Which is another reason I'm not fond of this plan.”

  “It'll be fine, man,” Robert replied. “Now for some weapons!”

  After another series of button presses, a number of weapon covered shelves sprang from the surrounding walls.

  “Oh! My! Goodness!” Morgan exclaimed. “This is like something out of The Matrix! Do I get a blaster?”

  “We don’t called them that,” the traveler replied.

  “Well then, do I get a phaser?”

  “We don’t call them that, either.”

  “What do you call them?” Morgan asked.

  “Well, as amazing as it may seem, we call guns that shoot lasers laser guns.”

  “Awesome!”

  “And no, you don’t get one,” Robert said.

  “Aw man…”

  “Besides, on this mission we need to use what you might call conventional weapons,” the traveler explained.

  “Which is yet another reason that I don't like this, Rob,” Vox replied.

  “Sorry, but there's no other way,” Robert pointed-out.

  “Well if we’re doing conventional weapons can I get a 357 magnum?” Morgan asked. “Do you feel lucky? Well... do ya, punk?!?!”

  “Morgan,” Robert chuckled, “of all the things I’m not going to do, giving you a 357 magnum is right at the top of the list.”

  “And why not?”

  “For one thing you haven’t been out on the range enough,” the traveler explained.

  “You mean like home on the range?” the young man asked.

  “You see, Morgan,” Robert replied, shaking his head, “that’s why you don’t get a gun.”

  “Well can I have a sword?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “A knife?”

  “Do you still have that switchblade?” the traveler asked.

  “Yeah. It's in my pocket,” Morgan replied. “Why?”

  “Let me hold it for a sec,” Robert said, holding
out his hand. “Thanks! And, no, you can’t have a knife.”

  “What can I pack then?”

  “You can pack this with medical supplies,” the traveler replied, grabbing up a backpack from one of the shelves. “And hurry up.”

  “What should I grab?”

  “Good point,” the traveler nodded. “Doc, show him what we need, please.”

  “Not a problem, Rob,” Doc replied, before leading the young man from the room.

  Just minutes later the ship was touching down on a forest covered planet. As the members of the band prepared to exit the ship they certainly seemed a good bit more martial than they had up to that point.

  Robert looked like something out of an Arnold action movie. He had a forty-five caliber pistol hanging from his belt, a high powered automatic rifle slung over his shoulder, and a P90 in his hands. Vox could have been one of the cast of the Dirty Dozen as he was carrying a chain fed thirty caliber machine-gun with bullets draped all over him. Doc had almost gone the Hellboy route with duel sixty caliber... yeah... sixty... revolvers hanging from his hips. He also had another gun slung up on his back. Cleo looked, if possible, even more attractive with an automatic pistol hanging under each arm and a crossbow in her hands. There was just something of The Fifth Element about her at that moment. As he gazed down at the medical bag in his hand he realized that, if anything, he was ready for a guest spot on Doc McStuffins. Next time he was going to have to get a gun...

  “So, what planet is this?” Morgan asked as they marched down the gangway.

  “Bouillabaisse,” Robert replied.

  “Cool. And what planet is Doc from? You didn’t tell me before.”

  “Baguette,” the traveler said.

  “Awesome… And where did we pick up Cleo from?” the young man asked.

  “Escargot.”

  “Man! I’m going to be like a walking encyclopedia of the universe by the time I’m done,” Morgan asserted.

  “I’m sure you’ll be an interesting read,” the traveler chuckled.

  “Thanks!” the young man replied with a smile. “One more question: why is it everywhere we go the plants are all exactly the same?”

  “How many plant types were there on Earth in your time, Morgan?” the traveler asked.

  “I don’t know…” Morgan replied.

  “Well, there were a few hundred thousand,” Robert pointed out. “Name ten trees.”

  “Let’s see…” Morgan replied thoughtfully. “There's Apple, Orange, Plum, Apricot… Pine… How many is that? Oh, and number one… the Larch… the Larch.”

  “Okay,” Robert said. “So you got four fruit trees, the most common tree in the area where you grew up, and the Monty Python tree. You’re not a botanist, Morgan.”

  “Yeah… I see what you’re saying,” the young man nodded.

  “If you pay careful attention, Morgan,” Doc said, smiling at him as he spoke. “You'll begin to notice the differences.”

  For the next few minutes they pressed through the dense undergrowth that seemed to cover the planet. After about a quarter of a mile of marching and a quarter of a gallon of sweat Morgan decided that they had to be doing it the hard way.

  “Why didn't we park closer?” he asked.

  “We couldn't,” was Robert's simple reply.

  “Why not?”

  “The power crystals can junk up the engines if we get too close,” the traveler explained.

  “For like a year,” Vox added.

  “At least,” Robert sighed. “That's also why we couldn't use personal shield generators, or stealth fields, or laser guns, or the car.”

  “It's also the reason we shouldn't have come,” Vox pointed out.

  “No choice,” the traveler replied.

  “I know,” Vox nodded.

  “Well, okay,” Morgan replied. “But then why didn't we just like use the transporters and beam down.”

  “Those aren’t real Morgan,” the traveler replied, pushing a limb out of Cleo's path. “I keep trying to tell you, this is reality, not Star Trek. There is no beaming down. And even if there was we’d never get through all the interference even if I was giving her all she’s got.”

  “Weird…” the young man mused. “What else doesn’t exist in the future?”

  “Seriously?” Robert replied. “You want me to like go down the list, man? Even if I was willing to, which I’m not, and I had the time, which I don’t, you might not want to hear it. How would you feel if I told you mermaids weren’t real? Even if they weren’t I wouldn’t tell you! I’m not about to dash a man’s fantasies.”

  “Mermaids better not be your fantasy!” Cleo said, glaring at Robert from under a single raised eyebrow.

  “What?!?!,” he exclaimed with a forced laugh. “No way! My heart is way too full for crap like that.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Rob,” she replied with a coy smile.

  “That's not true,” he asserted. “I'm a stellar liar. Like an unbelievably incredible liar. In fact, I'm so good at lying that if you ever suspect I'm lying you can be sure I'm telling the truth. If I were actually lying you wouldn't have a clue.”

  “Then how can I tell if you're lying to me?” Cleo asked playfully.

  “It's easy for you, girl,” he smiled. “I never lie to you.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Rob,” she said again.

  “Actually, Rob,” Morgan said thoughtfully. “If that is the case, about the mermaids I mean, not the lying... Why do you call that one color spanking mermaids?”

  “What color does he call spanking mermaids?!?!”Cleo asked, raising her voice and turning her eyes to Morgan.

  “I have no idea what he’s talking about!” Robert exclaimed.

  “Yes you do!” the young man replied with a grin. “That color in the cargo bay!”

  “So, that’s why you repainted it,” Cleo said, turning her glaring gaze back to Robert. “I wondered why you did that even after Vox insisted that it didn't need it!”

  “It did need it!” he counter-insisted. “And I honestly have no idea what Morgan's talking about.”

  “When I first got on the ship,” Morgan explained. “You told me that's what you called it as soon as I stepped in the bay. I asked you what color it was and you said: No idea, I've always just called it spanking mermaids.”

  “Did he?” Cleo asked, her voice edged like a knife.

  “Of course I didn't!” the traveler replied.

  “But, Rob...” Morgan began.

  “Look, Morgan!” Robert interrupted, turning around to face his friend. “You had just run full tilt into the loading platform. I think you have to admit that you might be mistaken!”

  As he said this he ever so slightly moved his head in Cleo's direction.

  “Well, I suppose you could be right,” Morgan replied thoughtfully, completely oblivious to the reason behind Robert's head twitch. “Things are kind of blurry.”

  “You see?” the traveler said, turning his eyes to Cleo. “Even poor old Robert should be presumed innocent until proven guilty.”

  “I guess you're right,” Cleo sighed. “I'm sorry... Will you forgive me?”

  “You first,” he replied with a smile.

  “Not yet,” she said, shaking her head.

  “So...” Morgan mused. “You've got me thinking. I'm not sure what I actually remember and what's just head injury... Do you or do you not have a light saber shaped flashlight that you got for a song at a convention?”

  “What convention?” Cleo asked, glaring at the traveler. “Did you go to another convention without me?”

  Several minutes later Robert had managed once again to talk his way out of trouble as the band made its way ever nearer their goal. As they traveled along Cleo and Morgan ended up side by side among the shades of the forest for a moment. The young man leapt on the opportunity.

  “Cleo,” he said with a sigh, “be completely honest, would you ever consider going out with me?”

  “It all depends on what
we were in at the time,” she replied thoughtfully.

  “No, I mean like on a date,” he explained.

  “Oh…” she said. “Well... No... Never...”

  “Aren’t you even just a little bit curious?” he asked.

  “Not anymore,” she replied, shaking her head. “You see, I had a lot of different pets as a child.”

  “You know just how to crush a man’s dreams,” he nodded.

  “I’m just keeping it real, Morgan,” she replied smiling at him. “I’m just keeping it real…”

  “I suppose that’s best…” he sighed again.

  “It will be in the long run...”

  As Cleo brought this conversation to an end, Robert brought the party to a stop. They were standing just outside the mouth of what appeared to be a large cavern. Morgan could feel something in the air. It was as if all the hair on his body was thinking about standing on end any minute now. All things considered he was glad he had shaved the neck-beard.

  “This is it,” Robert said. “All we need to do is grab a couple of crystals and then head back to the ship. Like I said: no problem.”

  “We're not back in the ship yet,” Doc pointed-out.

  “That's what I'm saying,” Vox agreed.

  The group quickly made their way inside the cavern. All of Morgan's arm hair stood strait up the moment he entered cave and an almost eerie blue glow emanated from its shadowy recesses.

  “What's with this?” the young man asked glancing down at his arm.

  “It's the power,” the traveler said quite spookily. “And that's nothing. Pull your hat off.”

  Immediately Morgan obeyed. Each of his hairs shot out as far from each other as they possibly could. In a universe that had been filled with many a fine 'fro over the eons, the young man's stood proudly amongst the most bodacious.

  “Now that is epic,” Vox chuckled.

  “It is!” Cleo grinned. “It's even better than that clown wig.”

  Morgan reached up to feel it only to receive quite a powerful shock.

  “Ow!” he exclaimed. “What was that?”

  “The power,” the traveler chuckled. “Anyways, I should have warned you about that. Don't touch your hair until we get back outside.”