Zarulium Chronicles III: Misfortunes in Time Travel

Misfortunes in Time Travel

The Zarulium Chronicles – Book 3

By Christopher A Forrest

Cover Art and Design by Christopher Forrest and Katerina Forrest

Published by Christopher A Forrest at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Christopher A Forrest

http://www.zchronicles.com

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Chapter 1: March 13, Aurica Ontario

What a piece of work is. . . . .

Dr. Anton Yakushev stood in his kitchen chatting on the phone with his newly hired building contractor, Dave.

Okay, Dave, replied Anton, your proposal to keep my plan secret from the Aurica Township building inspector is the only proposal that can possibly work for me. Based on what the inspector told me, if I want a new structure built, then I could expect you to start the project by September – six months from now! On the other hand, if I want an extension, then I could expect you to start by the end of May – almost three months from now! I need the structure immediately.

Dave asked, Who were you talking to?

Distractedly, Anton answered, A woman . . . I forget her name. I have a lot on my mind these days.

Sighing, Dave responded, Probably Monica.

At any rate, Dave, although I am loathe telling a lie, I will tell the Township that I have chosen to think it over for now, and then you can simply start quietly building me the new structure.

I knew you'd come 'round to seeing it my way, Anton, said Dave, laughing. Getting anything built new in a hurry in this place is like building a house in a swamp with no foundation – it's just not done!

Yes, began Anton, and then he sighed, I determined as much from the inspector. She seemed to enjoy informing me of the long and thorough process she needed to undertake before she would allow anyone to build anything!

Shaking his head, Dave explained, "Yeah, you were talking to Monica all right. The sad thing too, is that she might have promised you a September start, and it still would've been November. I've never worked on one of her permits yet that didn't start later than promised, and take twice as long as promised to complete because of her constant interruptions. She's like a human time delay."

Can you start on Monday?

Yes, answered Dave, I'll start Monday, but as we agreed up front, I can only work from nine 'til noon Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. As my other jobs wrap up, I'll add either extra days or increase the hours of work . . .

Anton interrupted, Perfect, Dave. I have to be realistic – your discretion is as important in this matter as anything else.

All right, then. See you at nine, Monday morning. I'll be bringing my little backhoe, and I'll start digging very quietly.

They ended the call. Anton placed his cordless phone back in its charger, turned towards the staircase to his basement laboratory, but then noticed the note magnetized to his fridge. He walked to the note and removed it.

Then, as he had done at least once daily since Lady Ruth had disappeared with his time machine a week ago, Anton removed the note from the envelope and read it, searching for clues. Softly, he read aloud,

"Dearest Anton,

First, know that I mean to return with your invention as soon as possible. When you explained the machine's capabilities, I began to think about the wonderful ways in which one could use it, but remained mindful of the dangers time travel posed, and which you outlined to us all on more than one occasion. I understand that regardless of how long it may take me to return, when I do, then I can return to virtually the same moment I left. With any luck, you will still be reading this note when I return triumphant!

Cheers,

Your friend always,

Ruth"

He looked at the clock; it read 11:24 AM. In 6 minutes, it will be precisely one week since she left. No 'triumph' in sight, Ruth!

As he walked down the stairs to his lab, Anton ruminated over her choice of words. Ruth had chosen to write that she 'remained mindful of the dangers time travel posed'.

Anton recalled that during his initial time travel demonstration to her, Ruth had displayed a rudimentary comprehension of basic science. Someone with this level of knowledge expressing that they were 'mindful of the dangers' did not instil confidence in Anton. As a few seconds had slowly turned into a few hours, and those to days, so Anton had had to admit to himself that he was as lost trying to determine what she had done as she likely was, wherever she was.

As he walked down the stairs, he muttered aloud, "I know where you are, Ruth, but when are you, and why?"

As he entered his lab, Anton spotted his two alien houseguests. They were the reason for the house extension: they were Earth-atmosphere-challenged aliens who needed a pure air environment. He laughed that Monica, the building inspector, would know nothing of Dave's secret project, while Dave would know nothing of its true purpose.

By now, Anton had grown used to Pol and Evo's green-coloured hair, but their purple skin still amazed him. It had been three weeks since the Irthaxan spaceship commander, Capt. Stritick, requested asylum for the two alien science officers. Pol and Evo were now refugees living and working in Anton's rural Ontario farmhouse.

As Anton stood quietly watching them at work, he wondered if this were a cosmic irony. Alien scientists with advanced knowledge of propulsion systems had made a business arrangement with Lady Ruth Clarkson-Smythe to create a Mach 6 jet engine for commercial flight; however, instead they were using their superior scientific knowledge to help Anton create a mobile prototype of his time machine.

Ahh, doctor, began Pol, you have arrived at a timely moment. We have a few questions.

As ever, Pol wore his oxygen-modified envirosuit, as did his partner Evo. Anton admired their ingenuity: they had recently rigged scuba regulators to their envirosuits replacing the full headgear they previously wore.

Evo commented, Anton, I see that you developed the foundation of the transportation component of your prototype time machine using neutrinos as the dimensional catalyst.

Yes, that is correct, Evo. I have a friend at ANTARES who provides me with data I need, and two scientists at SNO, just north of here in Sudbury, provide me with the actual supply of neutrinos, explained Anton. Then, conspiratorially, he added, Although how they deliver them to me is a secret.

Surprised, Pol interrupted, I did not know . . . your people had mastered trapping neutrinos!

Yes, well . . . my people mastered it approximately a year ago, but they have not publically announced it yet.

Evo questioned, Why not? We can assure you that this discovery will have far reaching progressive scientific applications on this planet within probably a decade or so.

Actually, Evo, you have answered your own question . . . began Anton.

Evo interrupted, I do not understand, Anton.

Anton explained, You used the words 'a decade or so'. Please try to understand that for a Zarulium-enhanced Irthaxan, such as you, a decade or so seems like 2 to 4 of our years. However, to a human, a decade is a long period.

Logical, agreed Pol, the youthful 100-year old Irthaxan.

Anton continued, My colleagues in Sudbury are concerned that if they announce their discovery to the world, then in the next minute the entire Earth's population will demand we install their automobiles with light speed for free or something equally ridiculous!

Evo inquired, You are being . . . cynical, Anton?

"Indeed I am, Evo, but I may not be exaggerating by much. Humans have developed visual art entertainment rapidly during the past half century to the point where anything real that we discover as scientists winds up unfavourably compared to that of the fictional world of science: real scientists find it hard to compete."

I think I see the problem, Anton, said Evo, finally understanding him. "Until you can invent something useful for the neutrino to do . . ."

Then there is little to gain from announcing that we have trapped it, Anton interrupted.

And so your time machine invention needs to remain a secret, of course, Pol added.

Indeed, agreed Anton. "I sought to invent it chiefly for discovering catastrophic events in our future that we could avoid by taking action in the present."

I presume then, pondered Evo, that the challenge you face is to avoid interacting with the past?

"Yes, I am confident that, as advanced scientists, you both understand all the ramifications of that concept. I will not insult your intelligence by expounding upon the negatives of historical time travel."

We understand your concerns, Anton.

As he glanced at his almost teen-aged lab assistant, Joe Painted Sun – so named for his birthmark – Anton sincerely stated, That is why I asked all of you to help me. I need to replace the time machine Ruth took.

Joe interrupted, "But we don't know when she went to, Dr. Y! Like, where do we start, eh?"

"A good question, Joe; but to answer it, I would say that we can do nothing without a time machine, while with one we can try . . . something!"

Shrugging, Joe replied, I guess so.

Anton queried aloud, "I suppose now would be a suitable time to explain the fundamentals of the non-neutrino components of my original stationary time machine?"

Yes; please do explain, Anton, said Evo, urging him.

Anton flipped over a portable chalkboard, which had chemistry equations already written upon it.

After scanning it for only a few seconds, Joe exclaimed, Whoa, Dr. Y! What is . . . sodium quatracite?

Anton had previously found Joe to be a quick study with numbers, and wondered if the youth was about to demonstrate the same ability with Chemistry. Anton expected that pointing this out to Joe would cause the youth embarrassment, and so, casually, he replied, Just something I needed to create to work in conjunction with the other compound that I also required to enable humans to move through the fourth dimension. That compound is over here on the chalkboard . . .

Joe looked to where Anton pointed next and interrupted, Phosphorus . . . octracide?

Indeed, Joe, replied Anton, smiling. He expounded, "These new chemical compounds, when combined, protect human DNA during a time jump. Scientists who have previously offered postulations on time travel identified problems with the aspect of teleportation – which is a closely related field, of course. Sodium quatracite and phosphorus octracide protect the DNA signature of the traveler. One might say, the traveler now has no worries of becoming recreated each time he jumps."

Pol pointed out, Doctor, our scientists postulated that temperature levels during any such theoretical jump . . .

Would be severely high, Anton interrupted, knowingly. He revealed, Yes, Pol, I compensated for this by housing the delicate new compounds in an alloy consisting of iridium, tantalum, rhenium, and manganese.

Evo asked, What did you use for an inertia catalyst, Anton?

Joe wondered, Would that be, like, the gas?

Indeed, Joe. I used Neptunium, answered Anton.

Joe asked, Not plutonium?

Knowing that Joe was a fan of the Back to the Future film series, Anton knowingly replied, Remember what they did to the scientist in the movie who 'borrowed' his Plutonium?

Oh yeah, responded Joe, recalling that vengeful radicals attempted to kill the scientist in the film.

Anyways, Neptunium is not on any government list of protected or dangerous substances that they need to keep out of the hands of civilians, began Anton. In the case of Neptunium, this is because, first, a civilian would have to create it, and then face the fact that it is so short lived thereafter, that its practical application would be all but hopeless. It would break down before they could apply it to anything useful.

Curious, Joe asked, How did you keep it from breaking down, Dr.Y?

I discovered that Dysprosium eradicates unfriendly neutrons, and then in turn it stabilizes the Neptunium, and when I housed the two things in a Zirconium-iridium alloy, the unusual alloy actually assisted in the cleansing process.

After a beat, Joe reasoned, So it was sort of like a kidney for a nuclear reactor?

With his eyebrows raised, Anton replied, I suppose so, Joe, yes.

Evo asked But, Anton, how did you measure the high temperatures; thus allowing you to control them?

I created what I call a Galliumometer. It . . . suffices.

Speaking pragmatically, Pol noted, Fascinating, doctor, but for all this, your time machine still lacks for a propulsion system . . .

True, Pol, admitted Anton. I reasoned that being able to time travel was the focus of my study. I hoped that my background in astrophysics would eventually inspire me to discover a suitable propulsion system, however, that was not the case.

I see, remarked Pol.

Anton continued, My imperative action at this point is to locate Ruth and return her to our time. Our advantage is that we know the machine she took can move through time, yet cannot relocate itself in the process. Therefore, the one constant we can count on, is that the machine is sitting in the same spot in Aurica as it left here in, but it exists in a different moment in time.

Emphatically, Joe stated, "That is what we have to figure out, Dr. Y!"

Confident they would succeed, Anton stated, I am certain the machine will be safe.

Joe's active imagination caused him to disagree. He proposed, "Yeah, but, what if she went back to dinosaur times to take a peek. I mean, your machine looked a little like an outhouse. What if Ruth went back and found a T-Rex, like in Jurassic Park? If she ran back into the time machine to hide, then the monster might have eaten her like it did that lawyer who ran into the toilet in the movie!"

Patting Joe on the shoulder and trying to remain optimistic, Anton stated, "Joe, I am going to have to ask you to be . . . more positive!"

Doctor, began Pol, due to my part of our bargain with Lady Ruth, to assist her with propulsion systems, I've now read about Earth's current propulsion technology level, and I must admit I am confused.

Anton asked, By what, Pol?

Apologetic, Pol replied, Quite frankly, Anton, your planet's technology level with propulsion is something we teach to children younger than someone Joe's age on our planet, Irthaxa.

In awe, Joe asked, No shit, eh?

Ignoring Joe's comment, Anton responded, Yes, Pol, you suggested something approximating that a few days ago. How does that fit into my work with time travel?

Evo replied, Well, Anton, Irthaxan's have not discovered time travel, while you, an Earthling have, and yet Irthaxan's are considerably more advanced in virtually all other areas of technology.

Yes, it would seem so, Evo, agreed Anton.

Evo continued, "Then, doctor, this makes you somewhat of a genius on Earth in your time."

Modestly, Anton responded, I might say that I am flattered by your observation, Evo, but that will not help me to rebuild a second prototype with which to try and find Ruth!

Joe, sensing Anton's continuing frustration regarding his missing philanthropic sponsor, and returning the pat to Anton's shoulder, interrupted, It's alright, Dr. Y. Stay calm and accept the compliment for a moment. I mean, 'time travel' – eh? Are you kidding me? You invented it, Dr. Y!

Sorry, everyone, apologized Anton. I am usually capable of listening to all the facts and I rarely lose my composure. Refocused, he asked, What does my alleged genius indicate?

Pol skipped to his offer, Where we can assist you, doctor, is in the area of propulsion. You see, I have also been studying humankind's rocket propulsion technology level during this time, and I believe with the assistance of a local Ontario company called OSPREY we can improve on your original stationary time travel machine's design.

Curious, Anton asked, Osprey?

Pol explained, Outer Space Propulsion Research Energy Yielders has been experimenting with the sort of chemical and biological advancements that should improve Earth's propulsion technology significantly, possibly within the next 15 Earth years. You might say they have invented a thing for which they have not discovered a use yet.

Confused, Anton responded, You can't expect me to wait 15 years for them to create something that might help me. I need to continue building the second prototype of my original, and I need your continued assistance.

Patiently, Evo explained, "What Pol meant was that OSPREY is years away from what we, as advanced Irthaxans, know will likely happen. If we combine their unique products with our knowledge, then we believe we can help you create a new mobile prototype very soon."

Suddenly very interested, Anton enquired, Mobile?

Evo exclaimed, Yes, Anton! We can help you build a mobile time machine!

With admiration, Joe stated, "Wicked; Dr. Y will be Dr. Who!"

Uncertainly, Evo questioned, Doctor . . . who . . . what?

Joe explained, Oh, sorry – it's a cool TV series, eh; a fictional show.

I see, replied Evo, satisfied.

Pol's pragmatic disposition compelled him to continue. He stated, Doctor, I believe that with materials from OSPREY we can start work very soon. If you would be willing to order certain products from them, then once they arrive, we can begin.

Guardedly, Anton requested, I would appreciate an explanation and open discussion on the subject forthwith before I place any orders. Is that agreeable?

Agreed, replied Pol. "Let me start at the beginning. Are you familiar with a Canadian company called Nexia?"

No.

Pol explained, In the Earth year 2000, Nexia successfully produced spider silk protein in transgenic goats.

Transgenic, interrupted Joe. You mean like, an exogenous or . . . alien gene?

Precisely, Joe, answered Evo. Good-naturedly, she questioned, Although, I suspect you meant your choice of the word 'alien' to be . . . humorous?"

Sheepishly, Joe replied, Well, smart-assed, I guess, eh.

Her translator had difficulty deciphering human slang and so Evo clarified, asking, Your . . . ass . . . is smart?

Anton suggested, I would replace 'smart-assed' with 'facetious' in future, Joe.

Correcting his slang gaff, Joe cheerfully replied, No more 'smart-assing'; got it, Dr. Y!

Evo returned to the previous topic, The 'transgene', as they call it, modified the goats so that their offspring produced spider silk in their milk.

Clearly interested, Anton interjected, Fascinating.

Under his breath, Joe excitedly added, Sick!

Pol continued to explain, The theory was that this protein, which humans had not been able to synthesize successfully nor extract from the spider, would be synthesized in the easily collected goat's milk.

Evo added, And being a much larger and docile creature, the goat produced far more of the protein than humans could hope to obtain from the alternative – millions of aggressive spiders.

Joe reasoned, I guess millions of spiders on a farm would just eat each other, eh?

Anton asked, But what of the protein?

Pol explained, From our perspective, we know that Nexia has created the foundation for silksteel.

Silksteel, repeated Anton, yes, I have heard this theorized. It makes sense.

"Ironman would have to consider a name change," postulated Joe.

Pol continued, Researchers at OSPREY take over at this point. They have been working on metal casings for jet and rocket engines in the hope of improving both types of propulsion. They have recently developed a unique alloy that we feel confident will work for propulsion purposes regarding a mobile time machine, based at least on our knowledge of rocket engineering.

Remarkable. Please continue, interrupted Anton. I am . . . all ears.

Smiling, Joe quipped, Like Mr. Spock, eh?

Evo explained, The spaceship Endeavour, that Capt. Stritick transported us here in from Peru, has engine casings composed chiefly of the metal you call titanium with a small amount of heat tolerant aluminium.

Anton commented, Logical.

Evo continued, "It has long been a theory of scientists on my planet, however, that if a builder modified the design to remove aluminum, add silksteel to an alloy of molybdenum and iridium, and then finally include a neutrino catalyst . . ."

Expectantly, Anton asked, Yes?

Evo continued, Then they would create a bio-chemical reaction within the rocket engine that would profoundly enhance one area of engine performance.

Anton interjected, And that area is?

Pol answered, Speed!

Anton asked, How . . . fast?

Pol replied, Possibly exceeding light speed!

Joe offered another slangy reply, Shit; no way, eh!

Evo had heard enough of Joe's slang by now to respond playfully, Yes . . . way! And, my name is not Shit, eh?

Joe apologized, Sorry, Evo!

Ignoring the banter, Anton reasoned, That would be a phenomenal and welcome addition to the time machine, but the time to create it would add . . . years to our project!

Warily, Joe asked, "Yeah, and besides, didn't you just say it was a theory on your planet?"

On an excited roll, Evo continued, Yes, well, we have not tried it on Irthaxa because of the Devastation . . .

Pol cried out, Evo!

A pause ensued during which everyone in the room stole a glance at everyone else in the room.

Anton slowly continued, I will not pry into the problems you faced on your world, and neither will Joe. Suffice to say, Pol and Evo, that if you ever feel comfortable speaking about anything to do with this 'Devastation', then we will be happy to listen.

Genuinely, Evo responded, Thank you, Dr. Yakushev, for your patience and understanding.

Clapping his hands together, Anton asked, Now, where were we?

Enthusiastically, Joe answered, It sounded like we need to build an engine!

Anton offered, We used molybdenum at NASA in shuttle construction and I used it in all my prototype designs for the Mars rocket engine. Studies showed it was a superior metal for superalloy purposes – and rather expensive.

Evo countered, Our theorists believe that it is the metal's curiously important link to chemical and biological applications that will unlock the light speed conundrum with the addition of the spider silk protein . . . and then there is the neutrino element, of course.

I see a problem here, folks, began Joe. It sounds like what we need is pretty specialized. I mean, a few minutes ago I found out about neutrinos and silksteel, and now you guys have the engine built in your heads already.

Evo agreed, We have explained things rather quickly.

Joe continued, We'd need, like, a forge or something. We don't have the equipment, Dr. Y! Who could possibly build an engine like this?

Anton immediately thought of Ruth's Uncle Chauncey. The Clarkson-Smythe's original, and still principal, business holdings were in aviation. In fact, their modified jet had flown Anton, his daughter, Natalia, and Joe, to Peru three weeks previously, requiring less than half the time a normal commercial jet would take.

Ruth's company possessed the most advanced propulsion technology that currently existed on Earth. Part of Ruth accepting Pol and Evo as refugees on Earth was a contingency that the two Irthaxan scientists would help her company to advance commercial aviation propulsion systems.

I think I will contact Ruth's uncle, announced Anton. I suspect he would not only be interested in this project; moreover, he will want fully to fund the enterprise when I tell him it will help us contact her . . . and increase the speed of his fastest current engine at the same time.

Oh yeah, eh, began Joe. I remember you talking to the old dude. What did you tell him about the day she disappeared?

I had no choice after I read Ruth's note, but to gamble that she would adjust her return time accordingly to arrive about the same time she left. After 48 hours passed and she had not returned, I told Chauncey that she left here headed for her aborted Peruvian holiday.

Stunned, Joe asked, "No way; you . . . told a lie, Dr. Y?"

Defensively, Anton replied, "Not in