a Waste of Time, by Ralph A. Thomas

a Waste of Time

by Ralph A. Thomas

one

"What the hell?!" Greg Wallerston ran for the control panel, white lab coat flapping behind him as he raced, then his eyes rapidly scanned the dials and displays for the source of the problem.

Randy Farrell watched his colleague anxiously. He had no idea what could have caused that bright flash or the high-pitched cracking noise but he was certain it was nothing covered in the training program. "Anything?"

Greg shook his head as he moved along the control panel. "Can't find anything that seems to be off."

"Yeah, and with all the redundancies built into this system, if something was wrong it would show up in about twenty different places." That was one advantage to most nuclear power plants: the smallest error in one subsystem was immediately noticeable in other places.

Having reached the end on the long control unit, Greg stood erect and scratched his head. "Nothing shows, so…" He shrugged.

"Could the sensors stopped working?"

A grunt. "With the redundancies you mentioned they would all have to have gone out at once." His eyes scanned along the display panels. "Whatever it was, it doesn't seem to be tied into the system."

"So what, then? Ball lightning? Japanese tourists? And that sound…"

"Sounded like a forklift fell over in the hallway outside." As if the thought spurred him into motion, Greg stepped to the door and peeked out. The hallway was clear in both directions. He let the door close and turned back to his colleague. "Nothing there either."

Randy took a pen from his pocket and leaned over a clipboard. "So how do we register this incident? 'Unknown'?"

"Hey, hold on now, Spock." He joined his colleague and placed a hand over the paper on the clipboard. "Is there any reason to even mention it at all? It's not really an 'incident' in the technical sense, you know."

Randy pursed his lips and nodded. "True." A sigh. "I don't suppose it would make any sense to Mister Phillips anyway."

Greg laughed. "Yeah, and you know he'd have the inspection team crawling all over the place…"

"And on our butts!"

"…and on our butts for a week or better just to 'make sure'." He made quote marks in the air to accentuate Phillips' attitude, much to the annoyance of his coworker. "So, we'll just keep this thing to ourselves."

"Unless something else happens, of course."

"Well, of course." Greg pat the younger man on the shoulder. "And I don't really expect anything else like that to ever happen. Hasn't before…"

"Yeah, but we don't know what it was. So we can't be saying it'll never happen again. Maybe it's just something new. An anomaly in the system no one's seen before."

"Okay, then. We'll just monitor it carefully til the end of our shift."

Randy smirked. That was their job anyway, so it would not be a far stretch or an added chore. He glanced at his cup and scooped it up as he headed for the coffee pot. There was always a fresh pot brewed – the caffeine was almost a requisite for the tedious job of monitoring the instruments twenty-four seven.

While filling his cup, he heard the door open. He glanced at the clock and then at Greg, who shrugged. Their shift had two hours left and usually no one visited or interrupted a shift.

His blood chilled. Maybe someone else had noticed the incident and Phillips was coming in to see if they had recorded it. Eyes darting to the clipboard at his workstation, he looked again at the door.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar white haired gentleman poked his head around the door. "Am I disturbing you fellows?" The accent was clipped, almost like relatives from Boston, Randy thought, but more carefully enunciated, as if speaking a foreign tongue.

Greg was out of his chair in a instant, heading for the door. "Sorry, sir, this area is off limits to visitors."

Who let this guy pass the security station? Randy wondered absently.

"A thousand pardons, young man, but I seem to be having a bit of a problem and wondered if you could take a look?"

"No, sir, we are extremely busy here." Greg turned to the phone on the wall beside the door. "But I can call for someone to assist you…"

The old man came into the room to reveal his garb was much like their own. "But you are scientists are you not?"

Intrigued, Randy moved toward the door. "Are you one of the techs in another department?" Then, before the other could answer, he rushed on. "Did you notice a strange noise a couple of minutes ago? And a flash of light?"

Greg's eyes scolded. Randy ignored him.

Two old hands wrung together. "Well, actually, I do believe that was… well, what I was needing some help with. If you don't mind?"

Greg looked at his partner. "I think I can do without you for awhile." His grin was malicious.

"Thanks a lot, boss." Greg did not usually pull seniority on him, but every now and again… usually when something especially tedious needed doing. He started to leave the room as the old man backed out before him.

"I really think it might require both of you."

Greg scowled. "Sorry, Mister. One of us has to be here to monitor the system constantly. Only one of us can leave."

The hands wrung anew. "Oh, dear, oh, dear. Your assistance won't be required for more than a moment, at most. The piece of equipment is really a bit too heavy for two. Once it has been righted you can return. Really." He nodded emphatically. "Not more than a few seconds will elapse, I assure you."

Greg looked back at the panels he should be scanning rather than wasting time talking to this old man and shrugged. "Nothing's happened in years. I don't suppose a few seconds is going to hurt, huh?"

"No, of course not." The old head nodded.

"Greg, you sure?" Randy looked worried.

Holding the door, Greg glanced back at the displays and nodded. "Okay, I'll give you sixty seconds. Let's get this done."

Nodding vigorously, the old gentleman led them to a door across the hallway and pushed the door open. As soon as they were in he closed it behind them.

The two younger men stopped and stared. "What is this?" Randy asked, trying to make heads or tails of the proliferation of metal rods and wires in a tangle in the center of the room.

"More importantly," Greg started forward, "what do you need my help with? You still got me for thirty seconds."

"Over here, if you please." The old man stopped before a small panel and waved a hand for them to approach. "Here's where the problem is." He watched as they drew nearer.

It was difficult to discern what part of the mechanism needed righting, thought Randy, as the entire thing seemed to be a hodge-podge of parts. Hard to tell what was right-side-up and what was turned over.

And as the pair drew near, the aged hand hovered over a button. "Now." The old face smiled and his finger descended on the button.

There was a flash of light – very much like the one they experienced a few minutes before – and a high-pitched crashing noise exactly like that heard before.

Dizziness overcame Randy and he dropped to his knees. Greg looked around for something to brace himself on and, not finding anything suitable, joined his colleague on the floor. "What the hell is going on?" He shouted above the noise.

Eyes darting, wondering if this was the end, Randy could only shake his head in response. I don't know, he thought, I don't know. But I sure hope it ends soon.

two

The noise and shaking ended abruptly while the bright glowing haze about them dissipated slowly.

No trace of the lab in which they had been a moment before could be seen. A pleasant garden had taken its place.

I must be dreaming, Randy thought. The buffeting must have knocked me unconscious. Regardless of the thought, he rose slowly to his feet and turned in a slow circle to take in the totality of their surroundings. Lush plants – almost tropical in nature – in raised beds, a domed glass ceiling, smooth stone pathways between the various beds; moisture was thick in the air. A grunting noise beside him drew his attention to Greg, kneeling on the floor, trying to stand. He extended a hand and helped the other to his feet.

"What the hell happened?" Greg shook his head to clear it but was left with the same unsettling vista. "Where are we?"

"England." The old man answered.

"England? But we've got to monitor the reactors. You've got to take us back at once."

Randy looked at his colleague in bemused amazement. He actually seemed to believe the old man's pronouncement.

The old face grinned. "I seriously doubt your reactor needs monitoring at the moment, young man."

"And why is that?"

"Because that reactor was decommissioned three centuries before the present."

"Three what?" Greg shook his head again and it still was getting any clearer. "What are you talking about? We just left it…"

"I think rather than ask where we are," Randy interrupted, "perhaps we should ask 'when' we are?" His unconscious was going to extremes, apparently, so why not play along for awhile. "Three centuries in the future, I assume?"

"Precisely, young man, well done!" He clapped his hands and a scurry of footsteps approached. "I am most delighted to have enlisted someone of such intelligence on my very first attempt. I told Wini that a scientist was what I needed, a true scientist and not one of those ridiculous academic historians."

Greg blinked. "Are you trying to say we just time-traveled?"

"Exactly."

"But that's impossible. Even the best minds admit that it might be possible but it would take a lot more equipment that this tangle of wires." He rubbed his jaw. "We're talking particle accelerators, vacuum housings, quantum foam, and all that."

The old man chuckled. "Haven't the foggiest what you're talking about, lad, but it is a time travel machine even without your fancy appurtenances."

The footsteps arrived in a liveried servant. "Yes, your Lordship?"

"Cummins, please take our guests to the parlor for some refreshment while I see to the device."

"Yes, sir." He nodded to the young men. "If you'll please follow me."

Greg spluttered. "We can't just walk away like this. We've got to keep an eye on the reactor… the controls… We'll lose our jobs."

The old eyes twinkled. "Never fear, young man. I can return you to the lab at the exact moment we left. You will have left nothing unattended to all intents and purposes."

Randy pulled at his sleeve and the pair followed the servant through the gardens. He was beginning to think this was not a dream after all.

They approached the end of the gardens and a marble wall lay before them, columns gracing each side of the doorway. And in the large vestibule, more of the white stone lined the walls and floor. Craning upward, Randy saw a gilt and painted ceiling that should have been home in the Vatican.

Who is this guy? he wondered. And had they really traveled in time? He was somehow beginning to think so. Either that or instantly transported to somewhere else on the planet, and that answer was equally suspect.

Passing through the vestibule, they entered through another large doorway into a hallway of immense dimensions, easily half as wide as a football field. At the far end was an intricate stained-glass window whose exact size was hard to judge from this distance.

The liveried servant directed their footsteps to the first room on the right. "Make yourselves comfortable. Refreshments are available should you desire." He bowed slightly. "His Lordship will be with you shortly." Turning smartly, the functionary left the room.

Randy looked around. Bookcases lined two walls, a third had large windows overlooking what he assumed were called 'the grounds', and the last held an enormous fireplace – suitable for parking a Mini – and a small refreshment center.

"Well, bud," he spoke after his survey, "what do you think of all this?"

Greg whistled. "Man, this place is beyond belief! At least this one room appears to be almost livable. That hallway out there," he gestured with his thumb, "is bigger'n an expressway. Who needs a place this big, huh?"

Randy waved a hand to dismiss the question. "Do you really think we've traveled through time?"

A shrug. "Stands to figure, I guess. Someone somewhere has got to get around to developing such a thing. So," another shrug, "why not?"

"Yeah, but," he came closer, "but why would he go back in time just to get us!?"

"Well, that is a bit weird, I'd admit, but…" He chewed a lip a moment, then brightened. "It can only mean that we are historically important. Like, we must do something later – later in life, I mean – to make us interesting enough for a future time traveler to want to see us."

"Both of us?"

"Well, you know, maybe just one of us…"

"And which one?"

He scowled. "How should I know! You'll have to ask him if you're so interested." His eyes scanned the room. A sudden grin appeared on his face and he started for the bookshelves. "Maybe we can find it he was telling the truth about this time-traveling." He reached the shelf and scanned the volumes as Randy came up behind him to watch. "Ah, here's a title I've never heard of." He pulled the book from the shelf and turned to the publication data behind the cover page. "A-ha! Here we have: 'published 2087, London University Press'." He slammed the book shut and replaced it in its place.

"I guess that seals it," Randy muttered.

"Yes, I think we really have traveled through time to… Well, what year is it anyway?" Eyes scanned the room. "I don't see a calendar, clock, or computer in the room. What else would have the date on it?"

"Can't say. The old guy – his Lordship or whatever – said it was three centuries ago where we came from so that would make it – what? – about 2310 or so?"

His companion nodded. "Yeah or even later. He said the reactor was decommissioned three centuries ago. So however long after we were there plus three hundred years. Could even be 2400 for all we know."

"So we should definitely ask," Randy said, turning at a noise coming from the hall outside the door. "And I think our host is arriving." A puzzled look spread over his face.

Greg noticed. "Our host and… what? A team of football players?"

"That would be soccer players over here," Randy commented absently, eyes fixed to the door.

As it turned out, it was not ten or more people, only two.

"See, Lori, I told you!" A young redheaded female bounced into the room ahead of her blonde counterpart. "Granda did bring some men from the past!"

The other stared wide-eyed in the doorway for a moment before continuing further into the room. Her voice was filled with awe as she approached the pair. "Are you real?"

Randy held out an arm for her to touch. She extended a finger and poked the arm then turned gleefully to the redhead. "Wini, you were so correct. It's verifiable!" She grabbed onto the arm.

Wini took the arm of the other scientist. "Verifiable, indeed!" She grinned up at him. "Do you think that Granda will let us keep them?"

The other giggled. "You just!"

Randy looked helplessly at his partner. "Looks like the attack of the twenty-fourth century edition of the valley girls."

Greg nodded, looking from one to the other. "Looks like it. And it looks like they consider us to be some kind of pets."

"Not so!" The blonde squealed and released the arm. "Sis, it seems our deportment needs to be adjusted. We have apparently not succeeded in our homework."

The redhead seemed reluctant to drop either the arm or the act. "Not so, indeed, sis! And I say we continue the advance. I think we were cluing in on this fellow."

Greg took her hand between two fingers and removed it from his arm like some sort of insect. "Clue into this," he said.

Wini cocked her head to one side, sadly. "I don't see where we failed, sis. I thought we had the jargon, the movements, and the attitudes well rehearsed."

"Probably not the right era," Randy offered. "Maybe you were researching the twenty-second century?"

"Well, darn!" Lori exclaimed. "I'll have to have a word with the reference clerk next time about their resources. The response has certainly been underwhelming."

"Perhaps if we could be introduced in a more proper fashion," Greg began, "the situation…"

"Quite right, young man!" The old man in the white lab coat had come into the room without notice. He glared at the girls. "Young women should not be throwing themselves at unescorted young men without the proper etiquette being followed." He gestured toward the redhead. "That young lady is Miss Winifredom Vesteron. And this young lady," he indicated the blonde, "is Miss Lorisia Gault. They are both granddaughters of mine as well as my assistants."

Randy nodded to each of them in turn. "Assistants in what?" From their previous behavior, it was hard to imagine them being qualified at anything requiring mental acuity.

"In my researches, of course!" The old man laughed. "And they are very good in the research department, I can assure you."

Greg interrupted the gaiety. "And speaking of introductions, exactly who are you? You already seem to know about us but we still haven't a clue to who you are."

"Oh, a thousand pardons, my good man. How rude of me. In my haste to show off my wonders I quite forgot that small detail." He bowed. "Malternick Averill Vesteron, Charlatan Exeter, at your service."

"Uh, 'Charlatan'?" Greg asked.

"Yes, young fellow. I quite understand that in your time the meaning of the term was to some degree derogatory…"

Randy rolled his eyes at Greg's glance.

"…but the term in today's world is for one of the highest accomplishment. Scientific enquiry and all that."

"I see." Greg sounded doubtful.

Winifredom interrupted the chit chat. "Shop talk can wait. Granda, you have not completed the introductions. We still do not know which of these young men is which."

The old man blinked. "Oh, yes, quite. Well, this young man…", he pointed at Greg, "… is… well, let me think…"

Randy stepped forward. "Allow me." A curt bow to the cousins. "Ladies, Randolph Farrell. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Greg added a small flourish to his bow. "And I am Greg Wallerston. Likewise, charmed."

Randy folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a sofa. "Now that we're all on the same page, identity-wise, perhaps you can clear up what we're doing here. I was under the impression that you needed a couple of scientists… but it seems you already ARE one." He nodded to the young ladies. "And with two qualified assistants as well. Why do you need us?"

"Precisely, young man. Get right to the point, why don't we?" He motioned everyone to the sofas. "Let's sit down and discuss the situation."

Randy glanced at Greg who shrugged in response and moved toward a small sofa. Wini charged forward and sat next to him. Lori stepped forward and took Randy's arm, leading him to the other sofa. The old man sat in a large chair between the two pairs.

He steepled his fingers and began. "First, let me bring you two young men up to date on scientific development." He saw the glazing over of Greg's eyes. "No, no, this is most important for your understanding and… uh, I will keep it brief." He looked to the other sofa. "And, Lori, if I leave out anything vital, please let us know." She nodded earnestly. "Very good. Now the problems began," he leaned back, "sometime in the late twenty-first century. Scientific developments had increased drastically in the twentieth century and continue so in the following one. Unfortunately, the rest of society could not maintain the pace. New developments could hardly be gotten to the manufacturing stage before they were already outdated by newer and faster producers. The patent offices were completely swamped, businesses were collapsing under the losses, and the whole economy of the world was nearing demise." He looked from one to the other of his guests.

"Competitive enterprise and invention – the longtime boon of the race – was now destroying the very fabric of the civilization in which we struggled to survive." He shuddered. "It was a bleak time: businesses failing, unemployment grew to staggering proportions, and many thought the end of civilization had come at last and anarchy would prevail."

He paused to gather himself. "At this juncture, a bold step was taken to halt our collective slide backward into the abyss. It was decided by the world court that all invention for the competitive market must cease." He paused to allow the thought to sink in.

"Stop? Completely?" Greg asked.

"No more invention?" Randy added.

The old man nodded. "But only, as I said, in the 'competitive' sense. People desiring fame and notoriety through inventions and their development could continue unabated."

"Then I don't understand the change…" Randy began.

His attractive sofa partner raised a finger. "Invention, yes; competition, no."

His eyes widened. "You mean they could invent things for satisfaction only? Not monetary gain?"

"Exactly, young man. Precisely so. Their inventions were patented through publication channels rather than government agency. Numbers assigned by an independent non-profit and all patents were published for public access, gratis."

Greg grunted. "I'll bet that didn't last for long."

Wini laughed. "You'd be surprised! It took over fifty years for the glory of invention to relinquish its hold on the society. That long for everything to normalize."

"Yes, but it eventually did," the old man beamed, "which brings us to the current task. The time travel device."

"So this is something you have built," Randy offered, "and you are testing it before you can announce its publication?"

The man nodded.

Greg sighed in relief. "Good! I was beginning to think everyone in this time was a time traveler, jumping back to kidnap all sorts of people." He stopped himself. "But that would already have… well, would eventually happen, anyway, after you release the specs." He puzzled. "But it hasn't happened that I know of… Are you planning to release the device to the public?"

"Most assuredly, for the greater edification of one and all." He chuckled. "But you should not fear it's being manufactured in any vast numbers."

"Oh, no?" Randy asked.

Wini answered. "No, Granda is member in the Royal Society and they share their inventions among their Fellows in the Society. It's primarily for what you would call 'bragging rights'. I don't think any of the inventions have been recreated, have they?"

The old man shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. That is not our intent, you understand. We create for the pleasure of our Fellows, nothing else."

Randy scratched his head. "But won't someone steal the plans and try to make another one?"

"Not at all," he chuckled again. "You would have to meet this group to understand."

Randy had a sinking feeling that the term 'charlatan' meant the same as it ever did, and why the fellow had searched to the past to find some scientists. "So, tell me how you came about building this machine?"

He beamed. "Certainly."

three

"This magnificent estate had fallen into disrepair after the death of my grandfather…" he blinked a moment, "or was it my great-great-grandfather? Anyway, the estate had fallen into disrepair for a number of years before I took possession of it. It took many years of diligence to bring it back into the state you see it today. And in the course of clearing out the rooms, I came across a lab in the basement where my forebear had done various experiments. As this was after the period when patents were declared null and void, I suppose he saw no purpose in releasing his inventions to the public."

"So you went to this Royal Society or whatever," scowled Greg, "and passed them off as your own."

"Precisely, young man. Exactly so, because they were mine. By right of inheritance and by right that great-grandfather had never shown them to anyone. I brought them out to the light of day as my own because… well, they were my own."

"And this time travel machine?"

"Yes, this machine was among several other projects he had started in the lab but never brought to completion before… well, before his untimely passing." He squirmed in his chair a moment. "And I had to read through his notes to determine what his plans were for completing and testing the device." He beamed proudly.

"So, you… what?" Randy scowled now. "Tightened down the last screw or bolt and turned it on?"

He looked aggrieved. "Actually there were two connections that had to be completed – to a sufficient power source, you understand – and four screws on the control panel."

"And I'll bet that wore you out, huh?" Greg offered.

"Considering the state of the lab when I found it, I would think it was a massive accomplishment, young man. Just sifting through the tangle of parts and the scattered notes…" He shuddered. "I'm amazed I was capable of completing it at all."

"And so you summon us to help you figure out why the thing works because you really don't have a clue."

He nodded excitedly. "I should like to have a little understanding of the workings of the device before I present it."

Greg leaned forward. "Great! I'd be happy to look through his notes and see if we can gleam any of the theory behind the device. Maybe help you figure out how it works."

"That won't be possible."

"Why not?" Randy asked. "We already know about the device. What would be the harm of showing us the notes?"

"It won't be possible because they are gone."

"Gone?" Greg glanced at Randy. "As in 'sold', 'donated', 'sent out for cleaning', or what?"

"Disposed of. Once the machine was completed and functioning properly, of what use would the notes be to anyone? The machine is the completion of the puzzle. Who needs extraneous parts?"

Greg groaned.

Randy still looked hopeful. "Do you recall anything in the notes other than how to make the final connections?"

The old man frowned. "Let me think. Some mumbo-jumbo about something called T-curves and some sort of spatial constants…" He shook his head. "I really cannot recall more than that. Sorry."

"No formulae, no theoretical scribblings?"

The head shook. "No. I recall there were some marginal scribblings, now you mention it, but it was a pointless string of numbers and bizarre figures…"

"With an equal sign somewhere in the middle?" A nod. Greg groaned again.

"I really think we won't be much help, then," Randy spread his hands. "Without some idea of what laws his device had circumvented – or utilized – we aren't going to be able to be of much use to you, I'm afraid."

Wini stood. "I am amazed that a couple of bright young men with a solid scientific background cannot develop some sort of tests to verify the basic functions of the device. Isn't that what scientists did in your time? Find something new and figure out how and why it worked?"

Greg looked at his colleague and grinned rather sheepishly. "You got me there, Miss Wini. I was lamenting the loss of the manual so hard I was forgetting good old scientific enquiry." He looked at his partner. "Well, Randolph my man, ready to develop some tests and theories for this development?"

Randy shrugged. "Sure. We might as well after coming all this way."

They all rose.

"First thing," Greg said, "is the lab. I would like to see where this thing started from."

En route, Randy was salivating at the thought of seeing an inventor's lab from the future. It was wasted saliva. They clustered around the doorway and stared into the mostly empty room.

"Looks like the garage we had back home in Ventura," Greg remarked. "Only cleaner."

Their eyes looked from wall to wall. Other than a couple of small plastic bins with their tops askew, revealing clothing inside, there was nothing in the room.

"Are you sure this was the lab?"

The old man nodded.

"Oh, yes," Wini grinned, "Lori and I used to play in here when we were younger. Made quite a mess a couple of times."

"Granda had to chase us out with a spanner." Lori poked her grandfather in the ribs.

"But," Greg was confused, "how did you get that monster contraption out of the room?" He examined the doorway. "Did you have to dismantle it or something?"

"Einstein…" Randy smirked. "And how do you suppose it got from England to California?"

Greg turned scarlet. "Oh, yeah."

Randy shrugged. "Okay, a tour of the lab did us no good. I imagine everything that had once been in here has long since hit the garbage heap."

"Of course."

"Then lead us back to the machine in the garden."

They once again followed the old man through the mansion, back to the garden where they had first arrived in this bizarre time and place.

Both the male visitors began an inspection of the device itself, the connections, the mechanism – Greg even asked for a screwdriver to dismantle the control panel much to the old man's consternation – the controls, in fact every piece that was attached in some sundry form to the machine itself.

After a tedious couple of hours toil, and a couple of breaks for refreshment, they had come up with nothing constructive.

"If we only had some gauges to test the various portions of the mechanism," Greg lamented.

"Got you covered on that one, bud," Randy smiled. "We can just pop back to my place in the twenty-first. I've got about every kind of scope and gauge you can imagine."

Greg looked imploringly at the old Charlatan.

He sighed. "I think the best possible way to discern the operation of the device is to use it. Perhaps by observing it in operation, the two of you can better determine what its mode of conveyance is. And we can also test out some theories on the supposed temporal paradox."

"You mean the theory that if you change anything however minute in the past it will alter the future?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Certainly!" Randy was magnanimous. "We can test it out and still be able to correct anything we might have changed."

"Fantastic!" The old man clapped in delight. "Allow me to get some recording devices. I should not wish to pass up a chance on recording this for the Fellows."

Greg nodded. "Whatever."

The girls bounced up and down. "And we'll have to get some traveling clothes on!"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"But, Granda…"

"It's far too dangerous for you girls to go gallivanting around in history. We have no idea what its like out there."

Wini frowned. "We have a better idea than you, Granda. We're the historians, remember."

"Yes," Lori agreed, "you may very well find yourself in a situation that requires our expertise."

"Well," he frowned and looked from one to the other, then at the two young men. Randy shrugged, Greg nodded. "Oh, all right. Get your things together quickly, girls. We will not delay the usual hour or two while you get your makeup just so."

They squealed. "Thanks, Granda. Back in a flash."

He smiled at the two men, shrugged and went off to find his recording equipment.

Greg shook his head. "Quite an adventure today, huh?"

"Yes." Randy nodded. "But I do have one question about that paradox thing."

"Yes? And that is…?"

"If we have been brought from the past to figure out how and why this thing works, why didn't we return to the past and create it then?"

"Well, because we don't know yet."

"I know that, chum, but after we're done here, the old man said he'll drop us back off where and when he picked us up. So why didn't we do anything with it? I mean," he looked around, "would any of this be here if we had returned with the knowledge? Where's the temporal paradox now?"

"Hm," Greg thought hard, "I don't know."