Warped

By David Allen

For the Aphelion Writers Challenge II

"All right, Cooper." Ronald said uneasily. "You’re good to go."

I nodded.

His eyes narrowed, "Remember. Keep quiet." Frequently, the biggest trouble with time travel is keeping your mouth shut.

I nodded again. I was about to step through the time portal and into the days of gunslingers and bandits. Yet I was not permitted to utter a single word during my voyage. It was illegal to speak or make any direct contact with anyone on the other side. You were allowed to look and learn, but not to interact. People who interacted changed things, and that was a big no-no.

Everyone knows that time is a delicate substance. You change a tiny detail in the past and suddenly everything in the future is completely different. You come back to find that you were actually never born. The folks tending the portal look at you as though they’d never seen you before. Which is pretty much the truth since you really don’t exist anymore.

Because of such problems I was made to sign dozens of waivers, go through rigorous testing and see a shrink. In the end they decided that I was honest enough and worthy to go back for a maximum of three hours. I guess they figured after that I’d start screaming the secrets of the universe.

Either way, I was lucky to get the opportunity. Sure it costs millions, but its worth every cent… Since my childhood, I’d wanted to visit the wild west. I guess I watched to many movies.

Two burly guards escorted me into the next room. I watched wide-eyed as the portal hissed open before me. The guards each took a step back and left me to do my thing. I was as ready as ever. My clothes matched the exact time and date to which I was being sent. My appearance as a whole was filthy. Anyone who saw me would dismiss me as a drunken wanderer and I would have no trouble getting around without disturbing the universe.

I sort of wonder why they always dress us like drunken shrubs. I always look twice at the homeless folks that wander around the city. God only knows how many of them are travelers from the future.

"Cooper Alan." Came a voice on the loudspeaker. "You have three hours before the portal is reactivated. You must re-enter the portal within five minutes of reactivation or we will force retrieval."

Retrieval. This meant they would send a few of their professional soldiers through to snatch me up. If I was causing trouble or attempting to stay, they would kill me. If I was merely kidnapped by a band of blood thirsty Indians, they would kill me. If I was laying drunk in a ditch somewhere, they would kill me. Basically, my life was insignificant compared to the space-time continuum. Which was understandable since I was being sent back as a mere wino.

"Cooper Alan," boomed the voice. "You may enter."

I took a deep breath and stepped into the swirling portal. It wasn’t anything like I thought. There were no flashing lights or twisting starscapes. It was as though I’d stepped through any other door.

I was suddenly standing in the middle of a field. At first the sight shocked me. I’d never seen a blue sky, white clouds or even a bright yellow sun. Our skies have always been dark and dreary, the sun rarely poked into view. Of course, I’d seen pictures, I just never expected anything as real as what lay before me.

I glanced down at my feet and saw that there was a pile of large rocks laying directly in front of me. They were there to mark the portal. When it re-opened, it would be completely invisible, I would have to step straight through the little arch of rocks to get home.

They had given me a little metallic drinking flask which was supposed to vibrate when my time was running low. This seemingly harmless flask also had a compass built into the cap that would point me straight to the portal so I would have no excuse for being lost.

I turned toward the southern tree line and decided to walk in that direction. I didn’t care if I never saw a human being during my three hour venture. It was enough just to be there.

Of course nothing is as simple as it could be. God forbid I spend a peaceful three hours in the beautiful world of the past. Something always goes wrong. I should have known better than to step back in time.

At first I thought it was a bird. I’d heard that birds made strange squawking noises. Then I heard the heavy footfalls behind me. I turned around and froze.

It was no bird.

An angry looking Indian wielding a small knife in his left had was charging towards me, screeching like a lunatic. For a brief moment I almost wanted to laugh, from the glazed over look in his eye, the Indian was clearly drunk. Then the realization of what was about to happen hit me. I was about to interact with someone from the past. Speaking aloud was a crime alone, but interaction was a massive offense.

Not even five minutes into my journey, it seemed trouble had found me.

The Indian made it within pouncing distance and he did just that. I watched in silent wonder as he leapt into the air screaming like a dying eunuch. At the last moment I reacted to the attack and stepped aside.

The Indian hit the ground with a hollow thud.

I backed up, ready for a second attack.

It never came. After a few moments I realized that the Indian wasn’t moving. Actually, he was twitching ever so slightly. Right about then I notice the pool of blood. And then it hit me. He’d landed on his knife.

Trouble had definitely found me.

"Stupid Mel." Came a voice.

I turned just as a second Indian stepped into view. His eyes were dark and angry. "Can you believe this?" he gestured to the fallen Indian. "What a moron. I told him not to run with his knife… I told him not to run anywhere after drinking that much." He turned to the dead Indian and barked, "Mel, you frigging moron!"

I gulped. Perhaps it was a dream… An illusion?

"Oh hi." The Indian turned to me, "I’m Doug." He offered his hand.

I took a step back.

"Oh don’t act so shocked." He muttered. "Like you didn’t know that Indians could talk."

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came.

Doug glanced down at his wristwatch and moaned, "Oh man, I’m late. Thanks to pea-brain there." He shook his head and turned back to me, "Where you from?"

No words came.

"Don’t tell me…" Doug said quickly, "I love guessing…" he began circling me, his eyes roaming up and down my body. "Ah… You’re one of those drunk dudes that cant talk." He grinned, "But I bet yer not drunk."

"Am too." And finally I found the will to speak. It was the most ridiculous phrase I had ever used, childish and stupid and I used to break my pact with the national time travel corporation. I was an idiot.

"You’re quite the idiot." Doug scoffed. "You break your code of silence with ‘am too’?" He broke out into laughter. "Oh well. Listen, man, I gotta get going. Like I said, I’m late."

Before I could object, Doug grabbed his dead friend by the ankle and pressed a button on his watch. And suddenly they were gone.

I must have stood there staring in shock for hours because suddenly my flask was vibrating like mad. I turned and walked back towards the portal, still shocked by what I had seen. Other time travelers? Gods? Who were they?

I stepped through the portal and found myself back in the chamber.

"Welcome back… Sir." Came a voice on the loudspeaker. "Well done, we hope your time traveling experience was exceptional. Please take the time to fill out a survey before you head home."

The two guards escorted me out the door.

As I stepped across the threshold, one of the guards whispered to the other, "Who the hell is this guy?"

The second guard shrugged.

They must have been joking…

David has been writing science fiction and horror for a number of years, hehas only recently begun to explore the genres of fantasy and historical fiction. His works have been publsihed in the romance, science fiction,horror and action sections of The Little Read Writers Hood, AphelionWebzine, Titan, The Writers Outlet and Dementia.

E-mail: DAVEVANOS@prodigy.net

URL: http://members.aol.com/thedrifted/main.html