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THE TIME MACHINE SAT in the corner of the basement covered in a thick layer of dust and speckled with cat pawprints. The machine was spherical in shape. Strange appendages with knobs on the ends jutted out in various locations along its exterior. It had a similar appearance of a sea bomb, only it sat on planks of wood, giving the impression that it sat on the water, not under it. The thing hadn’t been used in over two decades, not after the ban on time travel that was enacted in 2266.
Benjamin straightened his vest and cleared his throat, preparing himself to approach the machine, as if it might suddenly turn on, snatch him inside, and send him into the past. He looked at his wrist monitor, noting his elevated heart rate. The mechanism also recorded excited levels of perspiration. He cleared his throat again and touched his neck over the small, sickle-shaped scar where his GPS chip had been implanted thirty years ago when he was born. Would They know that he was standing next to a time machine?
They, as the New Government called themselves, did everything they could to keep the general public safe from harm, and in turn keep humanity under strict control. This included banning alcohol (to become inebriated was to cause harm to many), tobacco (to smoke was to cause many to become sick, and therefore harm many), agriculture (to grow food is to show a lack of support to local grocers, and therefore, harm many), and eventually, time travel.
The time travel ban, like with the other bans, came with a statement: To change time was to change the lives of many, and therefore harm many. The statement was supposed to be profound, and indeed, to some it was, but to the major organizations behind time machine manufacture, it was preposterous. No one used time machines to change lives. According to a survey done by the Time Travel Administration, the most common use of a time machine was to visit dead relatives; the second being to right a wrong, not wrong a right.
The ban was viewed with renewed interest after the trial of Mercy vs. Lewis when Cynthia Lewis traveled back in time to object to the marriage of Gloria Gray and Frederick Mercy. Upon doing so, she unknowingly started a series of events that would ultimately lead to the assassination of the 100th president, Wilhelm Wundt (the twenty-first century “father of psychology” who managed to travel forward in time by—as he put it—hitching a ride), in 2245.
Benjamin cleared his throat again and took a step forward. The sound of his foot on the wooden floorboard made his heart jump. He paused and listened, noting nothing but a deafening silence that was punctuated by with the pounding of his heart in his ears. He breathed a heavy sigh, rubbed his forehead and stepped next to the machine. He didn’t know how to work it, though his grandfather used to let him sit in it. He should have shown more interest all those years ago.
He touched his vest pocket where he had tucked his copy of his grandfather’s will, along with a note: The only thing in the lockbox willed to him. The note was simple:
I was so close! Get back to March 3, 2245 and stop her!
Benjamin didn’t know who her was, but he had a good idea. He swallowed hard past a lump in his throat. The hatch to the time machine opened with the press of a button labeled open.
Inside was a schematic of the machine, clean and crisp as if it had just been printed. The interior was decorated sparingly, but the cushion on the seat was a plush velvet in cranberry. Benjamin climbed inside.
A warning tone buzzed in his ears and a polite female voice said, “Benjamin Mode, you are in close proximity to a banned substance. Please step away at once.”
When he ignored the tone and the warning, they became increasingly loud every second until it was unbearable. He jumped from the machine and went to the drawer where he grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers. He held his left finger on the scar, and with his right hand, eyes closed tight, dug the ends of the pliers into his neck, shouting in agony. He twisted the skin open, feeling with his opposite hand. When he felt the hard metal of the chip, he gouged it with the pliers. With a final jerk, he pulled the chip, roughly ⅛ of an inch square, and crushed it.
He didn’t have much time. They would know he removed it in a matter of seconds. He jumped into the time machine, closed the hatch, and looked at the instructions. His hands fluttered over the buttons and knobs indicated in the drawing. Pressing, toggling, pulling.
The machine started with a bang. Benjamin frantically turned the dials to the date his grandfather mentioned. The machine vibrated at such intensity, his legs became numb. With a shotgun blast, the machine stopped vibrating and the hatch opened.
There stood a woman with dark auburn hair and startling green eyes. Benjamin looked around at his grandfather’s basement, now immaculate and clean.
He jumped out of the machine and gripped the woman by the shoulders.
“Don’t do it,” he said, breathless.
“What?” She asked, touching her lips.
“If you leave him, you will kill him.”
Benjamin jumped back into the machine and with a pop, he was back in 2266.
When the hatch opened, his grandfather stood in the now immaculate basement of present time, his arm around a woman with familiar green eyes and auburn hair shot with white.
“I’ve done it, Ben,” his grandfather said with a grin.
“Done what?” Benjamin asked.
“After all these years,” he said with a grin, “I finally married your grandmother!” He kissed the woman in question and squeezed her gently around the shoulders.
