Timeshock - I Want My Life Back by Timothy Michael Lewis Page B
Authors: Timothy Michael Lewis
Tags: TIme Travel Thriller
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Nigel Saunders.”
“Why haven’t you got an identification tag?”
“I lost it.”
“Do you take me for some kind of fool!” The man banged on the table in the interview room. Seeing Nigel’s blank expression he carried on.
“They are embedded under the skin of your hand - you can’t lose it.”
“Sorry I don’t have one.”
“How is that possible? Everyone has one embedded after birth. They have for the last 4000 years.”
Nigel was feeling the heat. He decided to tell the truth though he doubted he would be believed. He recounted his time travelling story but changed one or two details. He told the man that the time machine was destroyed on Mindoa and he changed the name of the Bilozians because he knew in this age they probably were at peace with Earth. He didn’t want these guys using the time machine and he didn’t want to start an interstellar war.
After Nigel had finished his story, the interviewer sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
“Now tell me what really happened.”
“That is what happened,” insisted Nigel.
“Well, I will get the MediLab to test your DNA and story out. You have until then to tell me what really happened.”
A man dressed in white entered and took a swab of Nigel’s DNA from his mouth. Nigel sat in the room waiting for several hours. He heard arguing outside of the room and saw the interviewer enter the room again.
“The MediLab says your DNA matches the ancestor of one of the samples we have from the twenty-second century, so I guess your story checks out.” The interviewer seemed very loathe to admit Nigel was telling the truth. However he did seem to warm slightly to Nigel.
“We have decided that we will release you conditionally. We will install a tracking device on you so we can locate you at any time. Follow me to the MediLab.”
With that the interviewer escorted Nigel to the MediLab where a small device was held over Nigel’s hand that stapled a small receiver under his skin. It hurt like hell and Nigel showed it.
Nigel asked if he could have his items back and the interviewer grudgingly returned them, including the storage diamond containing the time machine.
The interviewer then took Nigel to the outside of the facility where he saw from the architecture of the city that he was in San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz still existed amongst a sea of skyscrapers.
“Here is a card with 30 credits on it - that should be enough to keep you going for a week or so.” After saying this, Nigel was left alone on the streets of future San Francisco.
Nigel had visited San Francisco in the 20th century and wondered at the differences. Much of the beauty of the place then had been lost. He began looking for a place to stay as ideally he wanted to find his way back to England before time travelling back to the 21st century, as it would be difficult to explain how he had arrived in the US without a passport back then.
Eventually Nigel stumbled across a bargain hotel that maintained the concept of rooms. Most of the cheapest “hotels” now seemed to induce sleep in a pod and then stack you up with the other “guests” in a vault somewhere until the morning when you were fished out and artificially woken up. Apparently space was at such a premium that most economy tourists stayed this way.
The bargain hotel Nigel had found offered him a room the size of a broom cupboard with a folding toilet, folding bed and a folding shower. However this met Nigel’s needs as he didn’t fancy being stowed in a vault overnight.
The tiny room had an entertainment and information unit that Nigel struggled to use. It seemed to assume that everyone had some kind of brain implant installed that could directly control it and only offered a very basic voice operated interface for everyone else. The voice interface seemed to have been added as an afterthought and was very poor. What
“Why haven’t you got an identification tag?”
“I lost it.”
“Do you take me for some kind of fool!” The man banged on the table in the interview room. Seeing Nigel’s blank expression he carried on.
“They are embedded under the skin of your hand - you can’t lose it.”
“Sorry I don’t have one.”
“How is that possible? Everyone has one embedded after birth. They have for the last 4000 years.”
Nigel was feeling the heat. He decided to tell the truth though he doubted he would be believed. He recounted his time travelling story but changed one or two details. He told the man that the time machine was destroyed on Mindoa and he changed the name of the Bilozians because he knew in this age they probably were at peace with Earth. He didn’t want these guys using the time machine and he didn’t want to start an interstellar war.
After Nigel had finished his story, the interviewer sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
“Now tell me what really happened.”
“That is what happened,” insisted Nigel.
“Well, I will get the MediLab to test your DNA and story out. You have until then to tell me what really happened.”
A man dressed in white entered and took a swab of Nigel’s DNA from his mouth. Nigel sat in the room waiting for several hours. He heard arguing outside of the room and saw the interviewer enter the room again.
“The MediLab says your DNA matches the ancestor of one of the samples we have from the twenty-second century, so I guess your story checks out.” The interviewer seemed very loathe to admit Nigel was telling the truth. However he did seem to warm slightly to Nigel.
“We have decided that we will release you conditionally. We will install a tracking device on you so we can locate you at any time. Follow me to the MediLab.”
With that the interviewer escorted Nigel to the MediLab where a small device was held over Nigel’s hand that stapled a small receiver under his skin. It hurt like hell and Nigel showed it.
Nigel asked if he could have his items back and the interviewer grudgingly returned them, including the storage diamond containing the time machine.
The interviewer then took Nigel to the outside of the facility where he saw from the architecture of the city that he was in San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz still existed amongst a sea of skyscrapers.
“Here is a card with 30 credits on it - that should be enough to keep you going for a week or so.” After saying this, Nigel was left alone on the streets of future San Francisco.
Nigel had visited San Francisco in the 20th century and wondered at the differences. Much of the beauty of the place then had been lost. He began looking for a place to stay as ideally he wanted to find his way back to England before time travelling back to the 21st century, as it would be difficult to explain how he had arrived in the US without a passport back then.
Eventually Nigel stumbled across a bargain hotel that maintained the concept of rooms. Most of the cheapest “hotels” now seemed to induce sleep in a pod and then stack you up with the other “guests” in a vault somewhere until the morning when you were fished out and artificially woken up. Apparently space was at such a premium that most economy tourists stayed this way.
The bargain hotel Nigel had found offered him a room the size of a broom cupboard with a folding toilet, folding bed and a folding shower. However this met Nigel’s needs as he didn’t fancy being stowed in a vault overnight.
The tiny room had an entertainment and information unit that Nigel struggled to use. It seemed to assume that everyone had some kind of brain implant installed that could directly control it and only offered a very basic voice operated interface for everyone else. The voice interface seemed to have been added as an afterthought and was very poor. What
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