Temporal Displacement

We have all heard the rumors that on the Island, people travel in time. They go back and do god knows what, playing with our history. If they made a change in some way, the biggest question is, would we even know it? Perhaps they’re making changes to what we know, as history is not all bad. Maybe they fixed things that happened and saved lives, or maybe entire cities.

But then again, do they do this to play?

If they have nothing better to do than make subtle changes and see what happens in the future, then they have way too much time on their hands and way too much leeway when in the past.

Amanda Carlille heard all the rumors before and dismissed them in short order. Allowing the rumors to see the light of day was bad for her job. She is a temporal researcher and a time traveller.

From her perspective, she has been traveling through history for nearly thirty years. However, in reality, in her home timeframe, she has been employed at the bureau for just under 18 years.

On rare occasions, a researcher has accumulated enough temporal energy to travel at their convenience. Meaning, she can go anywhere with just a thought. No jump system. No transit computer, or no operator setting your temporal transit location.

She was home at the moment, sitting on her sofa, watching the vid. An awkward show from the 21st century about a space station that is pulled into a wormhole, and no one on Earth can determine if they are alive. Of course, they all lived, but in a new place, thousands of light-years away from where they started.

When the show ended, she placed her empty wine glass on the end table and stood.

“I cannot believe I sat here the entire 40 minutes and watched that, but I did kind of enjoy it, so maybe next week I will watch episode two.”

She blinked a few times because, between those blinks, she left her apartment and was standing in a field. Thankfully, she was dressed rather warmly, the air felt like it was 11°C, and it was dark.

She looked up at the sky and did not see the geosync stations that dotted the night sky, and it made her remember that she was in the past a few weeks ago, and made the same revelation. Then she saw the moon.

“Oh my god, it’s plain!” No colonies could be seen. This was not her moon. How did she get into the past?

Without thinking, she thought about home, and a moment later, she appeared in her apartment. Looking at the end table, she saw the wine glass she had put there a few minutes ago.

Knowing that if they discover this new ability, she will be removed from temporal displacement, and she will love to travel!

“I can never tell this to anyone.”

She said out loud, and the computer system requested her to repeat what she said.

“Cancel.”

She went into her bedroom and dressed in better clothing, wild west attire. Her timeframe of expertise was the mid-18th century through the early 19th century.

Once dressed, armed with a revolver at her hip, she picked up a large bag of gold. Universal currency, especially when she wanted to go.

She closed her eyes, then laughed. “Why am I closing my eyes?” She resettled her stance, “August 1895, United States, Midwest.”

A moment later, and she appeared in a town just before breakfast. The sun was rising, and people were beginning to mill about.

She passed a woman, “What town am I in, and do you know the date?”

She looked at the newcomer and cocked her head to one side, like a puppy who is trying to understand what you are saying.

“You are in Boise, Idaho, and it is August 18.”

“1895,” Amanda said under her breath.

“Actually, honey, 1898.” The woman looked at her, “Are you OK?”

Amanda replied, “I am. I have just been in the nothing for so long that I lost track. Thanks!”

The woman walked off, and Amanda went to the Assay Office. Hoping they were open already. She tested the door, which was locked.

Looking around and seeing no one, “Forward in time four hours.”

It went from the golden sunlight of a beautiful morning to the heat of midday.

“This is cool!” She looked around, and no one seemed to have noticed her magically appear. She went into the Assay Office and up to the counter. “I have some gold I want to sell.”

The man walked up to the counter, and Amanda handed him the leather pouch. “Current price for gold is $19 per ounce.”

He dumped the pouch on a small tray, placed the tray on a scale, and added small weights to the other side.

“Well, Ma’am. You have a hair more than eleven ounces of gold here, and the test came out pure. Purer than most I see. So, I can offer you $250 since all I will need to do is melt it and create strips. It seems like a good deal, do you agree?”

“I do. $250.”

The man walked into a back room, returned a few minutes later, and put the cash on the counter. He handed her the empty pouch, and she put all but $50 of the cash into the pouch, which she put in a vest pocket.

“Nice doing business with you.”

He returned the compliment, and she left. Looking around, she saw the general store at the other end of town and headed that way. Then she smelled food. She was getting hungry, so she walked into the restaurant and took a seat. A minute later, someone asked what she needed.

“Steak and eggs! Steak cooked medium, eggs scrambled.”

Without saying a word, the server walked away and a moment later dropped a cup of coffee on her table.

She looked around; other than one other woman at a table, it was very male-heavy in the room, and they were all giving her a second and third glance.

The other woman stood, picked up her silverware and coffee, and walked to Amanda’s table, sitting opposite her, “I’m Sadie.”

“Amanda.”

“If we sit together, the vultures will hopefully leave us alone.”

Amanda nodded.

They ate in peace, and when it came to paying for the meal, which cost 65 cents each since they had the same breakfast, Amanda put two dollars on the table.

“Breakfast is on me, Sadie.”

“Thanks.”

As they stood to leave, Amanda noticed four unscrupulous men on the other side of the room standing at the same time.

Amanda moved closer to Sadie, and they walked out. “Looks like we may gain a few chaperones.”

Sadie replied, “Those four. Someone needs to put them out of our misery.”

Amanda started thinking about her early training. A temporal agent shall never kill anyone when traveling. Rule #1.

As the women left the restaurant, the four men followed them, and they turned into a livery and waited. Amanda was a pretty good fighter, standard hand-to-hand combat training for instances like this. Sadie picked up a stick, the handle of a pitchfork, and the two stood there and waited. They did not have to wait long.

The men walked in grinning, like this was going to be fun. Sadie connected to the right temple of the ugliest of the four, and he landed on the ground like a sack of rice.

Amanda punched one in the throat, then a very well executed roundhouse kick to the left side of his head, and he landed on top of the other man, who Sadie laid out.

The other two stood there for a minute, trying to understand what had just happened. Together, the lunged at Sadie and Amanda, who side-stepped perfectly, and the men rammed into the wall of the livery stable headfirst. They were out cold and face down in the remnants of the animal that had occupied that stall a few hours earlier.

“Well, that was easy enough,” Sadie said.

“Agreed. Now I need to go to the General Store and make a purchase, and then I am heading out of town.”

Sadie stopped, “What do you need from the Store?”

“I am in need of a few firearms and ammunition for our camp.”

“Well, you, my friend, are in luck. My brother owns the general store, so I believe I can get you a good deal on revolvers and rifles.”

Amanda grinned, “Lead the way, Sadie.”

About an hour later, Amanda had her antique revolvers, four of them, and a couple of rifles. She put them into a burlap sack, slung them over her shoulder, and said her goodbyes.

When she was out of sight, she thought HOME and appeared in her living room, where this adventure started. She looked at the clock and only a few minutes had passed.

She needed to get some sleep. She has a trip in the morning.