Cli-Fi
John J. Falco
Thanks to advice of Chroners on here, I have re-written the beginning and now first chapter of my epic Time Travel saga. I feel that this has been the best start to the book that I have written in the past two years. I hope you all agree. Feel free to critique as much or as little as you want. Since you all liked my original beginning, I decided to keep it and incorporate that into the new crisis.
“We’ve got flying pigs!” One of the analysts pointed to his screen. Alan Cummings breathed a sigh of relief because the seemingly chaotic sightings of flying pigs have been immeasurably helpful in the search for his missing device.
“That’s more good indications of high fluctuations of temporal activity in the area! When is it coming from?” Private Investigator Dorian Black excitedly echoed Alan’s thoughts as they both ran over to the screen to check out the latest readings. “Please tell me you’ve found it?” Alan begged the confused looking analyst, who seemed to be in way over his head. “The AI representative is going to be here any moment.”
The analyst quickly typed at the panels of keys on his desk, and looked even more confused than before. Their newly found optimism quickly turned sour as nothing definitive could be concluded from those erratic readings. “I’m sorry sir, I tried my best! If it was there, it’s not now. Is the date still important?”
Dorian and Alan both looked at each other and shook their heads at the same time. “The computers will keep the record for another thirty seconds. If we need the record, we can always go back and find it.” Dorian said as Alan put an old wrinkly hand on the young man’s shoulder, “That’s OK Tom. It’s not your fault.”
Dorian wondered whose fault it actually was, as he spotted the tall AI in the hallway.
“They’re here,” Dorian whispered and pointed out to Alan that could still run or go somewhere else for a while if he wanted to avoid publicity.
“It’s too late. We’re done,” Alan said in defeat.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Dorian was coming to the rescue, but didn’t act like it. He went over to the chair in the far corner of the room and just sat there. Looking like how an uninterested third party should look. Alan did a double-take but then remembered that was Dorian’s style in crisis management. Act like nothing was wrong.
“Are you saying that you’ve lost the Time Machine?” The AI, a Military Acronym short for Artificial Intelligence, barked as it looked down at the distinguished Alan Cummings like he was nothing but garbage. Its voice seemed to echo as if multiple people were saying the same thing at the same time. Alan had explained to the collective voices that they were actively searching for the missing device, but that apparently wasn’t enough for the government.
The tiny old man looked marred and he muttered something to himself as he staggered backwards. “Please speak up, so that the non-enhanced purebreds in the room can understand you.” The AI added in a slightly sarcastic tone, noting that it could detect the slightest hint of indecisiveness.
“I’m not saying we lost it, but it just can’t be found at the moment.” The scientist forcibly replied, but nervous enough to let the machine know it still had the upper hand.
Dorian Black sat crossed legged and raised his eyes from the holographic advertisement he was reading. The ad was entitled The Constant IS The One You Have Been Waiting For. He scoffed at the thought, and made a gesture to throw it away. As the ad vanished from existence, he knew the scene that was unfolding before him required his full undivided attention. He knew he was missing something, but what? Where was the time machine?
Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth as the parties in the room started to pick up the fight by arguing their respective theories about whose fault they thought it was. The idea that the most important tool in human civilization had now been lost somewhere in the space-time continuum, actually humored him more than anything else.
As a private investigator in the matter, he was an independent party, with really no horse in the game. That’s why his casual approach seemed to confuse both Alan and the AI, even though logically it shouldn’t. He suspiciously eyed the machine and wondered what sort of new emotional algorithms the techies were drawing up. While, the intricacies of Algorithmic Law went above his purebred mind, Temporal Law was an altogether different matter for him. That’s why he joined Alan Cummings’ law firm in the first place and he could tell, his expertise was sorely needed.
Then suddenly he had an idea, “Gentlemen it appears we are at an impasse.” Dorian held up his large dark-skinned hands in an attempt to get his friends and colleagues to stop all the bickering, at least so he had time to think. “If it pleases the Congress, I need to know how important the original device actually is, before I can continue with any investigation.”
Alan stared blankly at Dorian, “Are you serious?” Dorian himself was not really sure where he was going with this and only hoped it might calm things down.
“How can you even ask that question? It’s beneath you!” Alan was clearly hurt by this line of questioning but Dorian was only trying to help.
The AI’s shoulder length blond hair bounced upon its broad shoulders. As it shook its head. “It never ceases to amaze us how purebreds can twist everything into a genuine religious experience. It really is quite remarkable and we hope, we never have to go through that ridiculous misguided attachment to a moment in time.” It spoke in a more flamboyant manner this time.
Dorian shook his head, “This isn’t about philosophy. It can be a measurable variable in my investigation as to the whereabouts of the machine itself.”
“By measuring it’s intrinsic value?” The AI gasped, showing off its perfectly molded white teeth.
“It’s priceless!” Alan defended as he smirked at the robot.
Dorian turned to Alan and tried to comfort him, but his approach may have seemed a little cold, “Alan, work with me here.” He pleaded, hoping this stalling tactic was working, “this is part of the reason why I am so good at what I do.” He shook his head, “I could care less about the time machine!”
The AI seemed to agree, “Dorian Black does have the highest ratings on the Implicit Association Test on record.” The machine bowed its head indicating that it would answer the question, “The Time Machine is needed as a universal blueprint, but it’s dangerous and outdated technology is something that the Temporal Congress has to deal with now, before the timeline is left exposed, even more. We can’t take unnecessary risks. Not with Juliet Carpenter acting…” The Machine paused for a moment and Dorian wondered if it was looking for a politically correct way of summarizing the recent scandal involving the young heiress. “Inappropriately.” It finished with one word.
“I disagree!” Alan interrupted, “The very presence of my Time Machine’s existence means that the industry will continue to be educational as well as profitable. Who cares what the Carpenter’s do! They aren’t that important to the timeline. My machine however, is therefore essential to humanity’s growth as a species as well as a functional tool for shaping the very fabric of the universe.”
The AI sighed, “You do realize how many other temporal applications there are out there, right Alan? You are just acting like a baby who doesn’t want to share. It’s time to give it up. Your machine is pretty much meaningless at this point. It needs to be properly achieved and stored away before it causes serious harm to the space-time continuum.” The AI smacked his lips and exasperated, “Oh you should see the things Wilson Technologies are working on. It’s unbelievable.” The machine took Alan’s hands mockingly and went in for the kill, “and really Alan, it’s all thanks to you!” The AI started to head towards the door.
Dorian had the idea in the back of his mind to go up to the machine and unscrew its head. No one insults his friend like that. No one! However, he had to remind himself that he was supposed to act in a professional manner and sucked the desire back into the realm of fantasy. “I’m not finished with my questioning of the Representative from the Temporal Congress.” He demanded the AI to stop at once.
The AI turned back towards the two men, two men who were quite human and in its eyes subservient. It simply replied to Dorian’s demands with its own much calmer demand, “Do not worry,” it stated simply, “We am not leaving. We will be waiting outside until the contract has expired. You have been granted another twenty minutes to find your machine or you will be sued by the Temporal States of America!”
Both Dorian and Alan exhaled easier. For time travelers, twenty minutes was an entirety!
“We’ve got flying pigs!” One of the analysts pointed to his screen. Alan Cummings breathed a sigh of relief because the seemingly chaotic sightings of flying pigs have been immeasurably helpful in the search for his missing device.
“That’s more good indications of high fluctuations of temporal activity in the area! When is it coming from?” Private Investigator Dorian Black excitedly echoed Alan’s thoughts as they both ran over to the screen to check out the latest readings. “Please tell me you’ve found it?” Alan begged the confused looking analyst, who seemed to be in way over his head. “The AI representative is going to be here any moment.”
The analyst quickly typed at the panels of keys on his desk, and looked even more confused than before. Their newly found optimism quickly turned sour as nothing definitive could be concluded from those erratic readings. “I’m sorry sir, I tried my best! If it was there, it’s not now. Is the date still important?”
Dorian and Alan both looked at each other and shook their heads at the same time. “The computers will keep the record for another thirty seconds. If we need the record, we can always go back and find it.” Dorian said as Alan put an old wrinkly hand on the young man’s shoulder, “That’s OK Tom. It’s not your fault.”
Dorian wondered whose fault it actually was, as he spotted the tall AI in the hallway.
“They’re here,” Dorian whispered and pointed out to Alan that could still run or go somewhere else for a while if he wanted to avoid publicity.
“It’s too late. We’re done,” Alan said in defeat.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Dorian was coming to the rescue, but didn’t act like it. He went over to the chair in the far corner of the room and just sat there. Looking like how an uninterested third party should look. Alan did a double-take but then remembered that was Dorian’s style in crisis management. Act like nothing was wrong.
“Are you saying that you’ve lost the Time Machine?” The AI, a Military Acronym short for Artificial Intelligence, barked as it looked down at the distinguished Alan Cummings like he was nothing but garbage. Its voice seemed to echo as if multiple people were saying the same thing at the same time. Alan had explained to the collective voices that they were actively searching for the missing device, but that apparently wasn’t enough for the government.
The tiny old man looked marred and he muttered something to himself as he staggered backwards. “Please speak up, so that the non-enhanced purebreds in the room can understand you.” The AI added in a slightly sarcastic tone, noting that it could detect the slightest hint of indecisiveness.
“I’m not saying we lost it, but it just can’t be found at the moment.” The scientist forcibly replied, but nervous enough to let the machine know it still had the upper hand.
Dorian Black sat crossed legged and raised his eyes from the holographic advertisement he was reading. The ad was entitled The Constant IS The One You Have Been Waiting For. He scoffed at the thought, and made a gesture to throw it away. As the ad vanished from existence, he knew the scene that was unfolding before him required his full undivided attention. He knew he was missing something, but what? Where was the time machine?
Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth as the parties in the room started to pick up the fight by arguing their respective theories about whose fault they thought it was. The idea that the most important tool in human civilization had now been lost somewhere in the space-time continuum, actually humored him more than anything else.
As a private investigator in the matter, he was an independent party, with really no horse in the game. That’s why his casual approach seemed to confuse both Alan and the AI, even though logically it shouldn’t. He suspiciously eyed the machine and wondered what sort of new emotional algorithms the techies were drawing up. While, the intricacies of Algorithmic Law went above his purebred mind, Temporal Law was an altogether different matter for him. That’s why he joined Alan Cummings’ law firm in the first place and he could tell, his expertise was sorely needed.
Then suddenly he had an idea, “Gentlemen it appears we are at an impasse.” Dorian held up his large dark-skinned hands in an attempt to get his friends and colleagues to stop all the bickering, at least so he had time to think. “If it pleases the Congress, I need to know how important the original device actually is, before I can continue with any investigation.”
Alan stared blankly at Dorian, “Are you serious?” Dorian himself was not really sure where he was going with this and only hoped it might calm things down.
“How can you even ask that question? It’s beneath you!” Alan was clearly hurt by this line of questioning but Dorian was only trying to help.
The AI’s shoulder length blond hair bounced upon its broad shoulders. As it shook its head. “It never ceases to amaze us how purebreds can twist everything into a genuine religious experience. It really is quite remarkable and we hope, we never have to go through that ridiculous misguided attachment to a moment in time.” It spoke in a more flamboyant manner this time.
Dorian shook his head, “This isn’t about philosophy. It can be a measurable variable in my investigation as to the whereabouts of the machine itself.”
“By measuring it’s intrinsic value?” The AI gasped, showing off its perfectly molded white teeth.
“It’s priceless!” Alan defended as he smirked at the robot.
Dorian turned to Alan and tried to comfort him, but his approach may have seemed a little cold, “Alan, work with me here.” He pleaded, hoping this stalling tactic was working, “this is part of the reason why I am so good at what I do.” He shook his head, “I could care less about the time machine!”
The AI seemed to agree, “Dorian Black does have the highest ratings on the Implicit Association Test on record.” The machine bowed its head indicating that it would answer the question, “The Time Machine is needed as a universal blueprint, but it’s dangerous and outdated technology is something that the Temporal Congress has to deal with now, before the timeline is left exposed, even more. We can’t take unnecessary risks. Not with Juliet Carpenter acting…” The Machine paused for a moment and Dorian wondered if it was looking for a politically correct way of summarizing the recent scandal involving the young heiress. “Inappropriately.” It finished with one word.
“I disagree!” Alan interrupted, “The very presence of my Time Machine’s existence means that the industry will continue to be educational as well as profitable. Who cares what the Carpenter’s do! They aren’t that important to the timeline. My machine however, is therefore essential to humanity’s growth as a species as well as a functional tool for shaping the very fabric of the universe.”
The AI sighed, “You do realize how many other temporal applications there are out there, right Alan? You are just acting like a baby who doesn’t want to share. It’s time to give it up. Your machine is pretty much meaningless at this point. It needs to be properly achieved and stored away before it causes serious harm to the space-time continuum.” The AI smacked his lips and exasperated, “Oh you should see the things Wilson Technologies are working on. It’s unbelievable.” The machine took Alan’s hands mockingly and went in for the kill, “and really Alan, it’s all thanks to you!” The AI started to head towards the door.
Dorian had the idea in the back of his mind to go up to the machine and unscrew its head. No one insults his friend like that. No one! However, he had to remind himself that he was supposed to act in a professional manner and sucked the desire back into the realm of fantasy. “I’m not finished with my questioning of the Representative from the Temporal Congress.” He demanded the AI to stop at once.
The AI turned back towards the two men, two men who were quite human and in its eyes subservient. It simply replied to Dorian’s demands with its own much calmer demand, “Do not worry,” it stated simply, “We am not leaving. We will be waiting outside until the contract has expired. You have been granted another twenty minutes to find your machine or you will be sued by the Temporal States of America!”
Both Dorian and Alan exhaled easier. For time travelers, twenty minutes was an entirety!
Last edited:
