text: “Professor Delorian, why does it matter which theory may or not be correct?” asked Trainee Patterson, adjusting his tie self-consciously as all the eyes in the lecture hall stared at him, some judging his good looks, others scoffing at the ignorance of the question, while those closest to him nodded their heads in solidarity. Even here, in a place that shouldn’t exist, the cliques of yesteryear still somehow held sway. The professor, a tall woman with short hair just starting to turn gray, looked up from her lectern mid-speech and took off her glasses. I felt my spine push back into the hard wooden backrest in anticipation. I knew what that gesture meant. “Trainee Paulson, is it?” “It’s act-” “I’m so glad you’ve asked this question, because, and I say this with all honesty, it is one I rarely hear anymore. But, since you’ve decided that the pleasure of my voice is preferrable to the dull scratchings of the required readings, I feel obligated to rid you of your ignorance in a manner most befitting the austere hall in which you now sit.” She smiled then cleared her throat before taking a sip of water from the crystal glass perched delicately next to her notes on the lectern. “So, why does it matter which theory is correct? Okay, let’s put forward a simple scenario and look at three ways it could possibly play out. For brevity’s sake, a formerly dormant volcano explodes and destroys a colony on New Vega. But you’re able to return to the past to attempt to stop it. First, you warn the people, but they don’t listen and die regardless. You try again, this time heading straight to the volcano and throwing some concoction into the fuming magma, which, to your surprise, causes the volcano to erupt. And so on and so forth. Now, can an enlightened trainee tell me what-” “The ‘Fixed Timeline’ theory,” I blurted out, before shrinking back into my seat. “It seems we have a class of interrupters,” Prof. Delorian said, “but yes, that is correct. In this case, everything we would try to change will either resist our efforts or our choices in the past will actually result in the disaster we were trying to prevent.” “Wouldn’t that make time travel, and all of this, pointless?” asked another girl from the far end. “If changing the past is your primary goal, then I suppose it would be. But now, getting back to our volcano dilemma, let’s say you threw your concoction into the volcano, and it worked. No explosion. And you head back to the present. What are you going to find when you get back?” “There’s two theories on that, one more destructive than the other,” I said again. This time the professor did take notice of me. “And what is your name, pray tell?” “Trainee Cordelia Adams,” I said automatically. Being a military brat could have its downsides, but it definitely set you up for a quick response time. “Adams... Adams, why does that sound... never mind. Please, share your knowledge with us. Tell us about the destructive one.” “Oh, well, of course.” This hadn’t happened the last time. “The Dynamic Timeline Theory posits that there is only a single timeline, and any changes to the past will alter your present. The destructive part comes with not knowing how much a single change could alter. The Butterfly Effect, essentially. And then there’s the Grandfather Paradox, whereby if you alter your own timeline in any way, such as by killing your own grandfather, you’d create a paradox where you’d never be born, potentially destroying the entire timeline, past and future.” Prof. Delorian nodded thoughtfully. “And now we start to see why it matters. And, just to round out Trainee Parklands education, what is the third theory, Trainee Adams?” “Me, again?” “Yes, you again.” “Alright. That would be the Multiverse Theory. We’re not actually changing the past of this timeline. All we’re doing is creating a new timeline. In essence, stopping the volcano won’t help the people already killed by it. And by traveling back to the present, we’d have no idea if we’d be returning to our original timeline or the new one created.” “And there we have it. Multiple theories, each one potentially leading to destruction if we’re not careful. Has that satisfied your curiosity, Trainee P-” “Patterson. Yes, Ma’am, it has.” “Good, and I would hope...” She went quiet for a second before turning back to me. “Trainee Adams, I’m curious, which theory do you hold to be true?” I scratched my nails into my palms as I felt a bead of sweat cross my brow. This was new. “It’s impossible to tell, isn’t it? I mean, I know which one I’d prefer was real, but...” “Let’s start there, then, shall we. Which one are putting your hopes on?” “The Fixed Timeline.” “Interesting choice, and not one most go for. Why would you choose this?” “Because I know that humanity can’t be trusted, and so when we do eventually jump back into the past, we won’t be able to screw it up more than it already has been. It would also mean we wouldn’t be able to use time travel as a quick redo for our mistakes.” Prof. Delorian put her glasses back on and smiled. “That’s surprisingly honest and refreshing to hear.” “I’m not finished, though.” “Well, perhaps we can discuss-” “I need to apologize to you.” “That’s really not necessary.” I stood up. “I’m afraid it is. You see, I lied when I said it’s impossible to tell. Are you at all familiar with Colonel Ted Adams?” “Ted? Of course. Uh, that’s why the name was familiar. Are you two related?” “We are. I’m his daughter.” “Oh? That’s not possible. She just turned three, if I’m not mistaken.” “That is correct.” Professor Delorian collapsed onto her lectern, knocking the crystal glass onto the floor. Somehow it did not shatter, which surprised me, as it always had before. I turned to aim my weapon at Patterson and pulled the trigger a second time, somewhat disturbed that I no longer felt any remorse. I touched my earpiece with my left hand. “I’m ready to come home, Barney.” “Post haste, milady.” ### Each time my body reintegrated into a new time, my mind was left adrift at the theater of memories. Moving backwards was different to moving forwards. Going back in time forced me to relive every crucial turning point in my life. Each moment would have lead to a separate branching timeline, and I was allowed a glimpse into what could have been. At times it was clear I’d made the right choice for all involved, but other choices had been selfish and lead to someone else’s demise. After my fifth trip back through time, I’d come to accept what I couldn’t change, and there was a peace in that. Moving forward in time back to where I’d left was different. I got to watch the new timeline I’d just created play out. I tried to soak in as much information as I could, but sometimes it was too much for me to hold on to. Regardless of the success or failure of my mission, I would always return to my original timeline, and hoped that the new world I’d help create was better than the one I was forced to live in. Because while back then time travel was all still theory, here in my time it was fact. There was a multiverse and each choice would branch out into new realities, but the time traveler could never exist outside of their original time. When each molecule in my body was in its right place, I jumped out of the chair and rushed over to Barney. He slid a bucket over to me as I did so. I grabbed it mid-run and threw up as I moved. Wiping my mouth on my sleeve, which always elicited a looked of disgust from him, I fell into the chair beside him, swiveling to face the array of screens before us. “The computer’s just starting to acquire the new timeline’s information,” he said, pushing a glass of water toward me. I drank in down in one go. “Were you able to tell if you’d succeeded?” he asked, referring to my theater of memory. “It was a bit hazy this time. Maybe it was the adrenaline. But I definitely made some ripples. I remember my father being brought in for questioning over...” I paused, swallowing hard. “...uh, the professor and Patterson’s deaths. Of course, me disappearing right in front of them caused a stir for quite some time. Even at three, I remember it being all over the news. It seems like I grew up mostly with my mother after that. I don’t know what happened to my dad. He disappeared from my life soon after.” The computer started beeping, and the two of us turned towards the screens. ‘New timeline Kappa created,’ read the scrawl at the top. ‘Twelve years from the inciting incident, time travel tests begin. Due to Patterson’s death, Colonel Ted Adams takes his place and successfully jumps into the past. Timelines Lambda and Mu are now in existent.’ “Damn it!” I grabbed the glass in front of me and threw it at the nearby wall, having enough wherewithal not to throw it at the screens. “How is this possible? I killed Delorian. And with Patterson gone, I thought...” “She must have completed enough of her research for them to get it running,” said Barney, putting his hand on my shoulder. “And whatever your dad did in the past, he somehow created two new timelines. That’s more than Patterson managed.” “So what do I do now? Go back even further and take her out before she gets further in her research?” “You were what, three years old, when you killed her this time? You know you can’t go back before your birth, so do you really think three years will make much of a difference.” “Are you kidding? Look what we managed to build in two. Of course it can make a difference. That’s not the point. It’s if it’ll make enough of a difference. I honestly don’t think so. If we’re going to stop the spread of these timelines, we’re going to have to make a surgical strike. We need to take out the lynchpin.” Barney took his arm from my shoulder. I could tell he knew what I was talking about. “Your father.” I nodded. “At some point after that lecture he got hold of her research and completed the chair. And it’s clear now that he can do it with or without her help. Patterson’s misleading as well. I honestly don’t think it matters who uses the chair first, the consequences don’t change.” “So it all depends on your dad. What are you going to do, Cord? Kill him like the rest?” I hesitated, but then looked back at the percentage displayed on the lower right screen. ‘Multiversal Collapse at 72%’. “It’s a race against time itself,” I said. “Whether or not I keep going back to change things, the Agency isn’t going to stop, and that number’s going to slowly tick forward.” “True, but we can’t even be sure that stopping the creation of time travel in one timeline will make any sort of difference.” “It might. Besides my meddling, how many more branches have appeared?” “Just one for now.” “Exactly. It’s slowing down, which means we are making some progress. We might not be able to reset the clock, but we can slow it to a crawl.” I got up and walked over to the exit. It was time to get some sleep, and do this all over again tomorrow. “You don’t know that it’ll stay like that forever,” Barney shouted. “We could end up accelerating the process. Why not just-” “Quit?” I asked, shocked that he could suggest such a thing. “You of all people know what this has cost us, Barney Delorian.” ### I sat in the chair, waiting for the light to envelope me. I’d been considering how far back to go this time, and decided it was time to push Time to its limit. “Okay, Barney, start it up. If I do this right, we won’t have to go through this again.” He didn’t say anything, and I could feel his doubt from across the room. “Alright,” he said finally. “Initiating.” The needle entered my lower spine and I immediately went frigid, trying to ignore the cold sensation slowly spreading throughout my body. I breathed out slowly, watching as the air in front of my face turned to mist. “Okay,” he said. “Coordinates set. And you should arrive in three, two...” I blinked, and immediately grabbed my head as the migraine hit me. I sat up, head in hands, breathing in and out slowly as the pain dissipated. I finally lowered my hands, taking in my sterile beige surroundings. I swung my legs out of the bed and pulled the curtain away. There was only one other patient in the room, judging from the other closed curtain, and hopefully they were asleep. I moved quietly to the door and walked out into the hallway, almost immediately bumping into a nurse. “Excuse me, young lady, what are you doing here? Visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago.” “I’m sorry. I dozed off and didn’t notice the time. I’m leaving now, I promise.” “Alright, but try not to let it happen again.” I walked to the end of the hallway and left the recovery ward. I made my way to a floor plan and found the delivery rooms. Fourth floor. When I arrived, I walked up to the nurse’s station. “Good afternoon, my, um, aunt is supposed to be giving birth now. I wanted to come and wait with my uncle.” “What’s her name?” “Shelley. Shelley Adams. And my uncle is Ted Adams.” “Okay, one second. Your uncle should be just down the hall in the waiting room. Over there and to the right,” she said, pointing. “Thank you.” I made my way there slowly, hoping I was making the right decision. But every time I hesitated, that ever-increasing percentage helped me focus. I touched the side of my wrist and my weapon materialized in my hand. I stopped at the end of the hall, and, steeling myself, turned the corner, raising my arms to fire... and froze. My father was pointing an exact replica of my gun at me. “Cordelia. It’s... nice to see you again. If only for a brief moment.” “Dad?” I took in his disheveled beard and blood-shot eyes. This was no young man. It was then that I noticed the body on the floor. “What...?” “I can’t let you continue destroying the multiverse,” he said, his voice raspy. “Your meddling has set us on a path to destruction.” I touched my earpiece. “Barney, what the hell is going on?” “Barney? You have a Barney, too? I guess that explains this,” he said, looking at their weapons. He touched his own earpiece. “Barney, did you get that?” There was a sudden crackling sound and the both of us suddenly grabbed our heads. “Aah,” I screamed, yanking the earpiece out and throwing it on the floor. My father did the same. “What the hell?” he shouted. “Barney?” The twin earpieces began to crackle before flying toward each other like polar opposite magnets. They floated up into the air, emitting a holographic image of Barney. “You know, the two of you were surprisingly easy to manipulate. It really didn’t take much to turn you into cold-blooded murderers, even going so far as to killing your own family. But now I’m afraid it’s time to end this charade.” “Barney?” My voice was slightly more threatening. “What have you done?” “What have I done?” He chuckled. “I’ve saved the timeline, that’s what. I must say, the fact that you were both mislead by some graphics on a screen into believing there was a multiverse says more about you than I. But, well, that was a lie, too. You see, there is only one timeline, and it’s extremely malleable. And the two of you have helped me put everything in place.” I lowered my gun. “But, the memories, and... I killed your mom. If that’s true, then you shouldn’t...” “Professor Delorian? Oh, she’s not my mother. You really should have done due diligence on that one. She was just another obstacle to be removed. And you two are the last. So, here’s to one final teary farewell,” he said, raising a champagne glass before his image disappeared. I looked at my father, seeing the sudden fear and anger in eyes, then glanced down as the earpieces started to beep. I thought about trying to escape for a single moment before reaching down and picking them up. “Run!” I screamed at him. “Save Mom. Save me! Don’t let him win.” My dad looked at me for what seemed an eternity before nodding and barreling through the doors behind him. I took off running in the opposite direction, hoping that my last words would become a new reality. “Protect us, Dad. Don’t let him win...” I whispered, the words evaporating before they left my mouth.