“It does, doesn’t it?” he said with all seriousness. “But I love Genesis, and I know I’m going to marry her someday anyway. So why not today?”
Becky nodded her head as though she was trying to study the two lovers. Genesis’s smile was beaming while James was waiting anxiously for a response. “Indeed,” she said. “Why not today?” His mother arose and embraced her new daughter-in-law-to-be and her son. “I’m off to get dressed. Your father should be down in a few minutes. Good luck!” She left the table and hurried upstairs.
“My Dad saw you yesterday,” James whispered, “and I have no idea what he’s going to think. I’m sure my sister has already filled him in. In fact, I’m sure of it since he usually doesn’t get up for another hour.”
She smiled. “Well, if there’s enough money in that envelope, we won’t have to worry what he thinks, will we?”
"Even if those stocks are as worthless as a Cracker Jack prize, I don't care what he thinks anymore."
Just then, James’s father came to the table, prepared a plate of the food, and reheated it in the microwave. Genesis sat bewildered that not a single member of James’s family had thanked him for all his hard work.
He’s going to know how much I appreciate him every day!
she thought. His father returned a moment later and ate while also making a concerted effort to avoid eye contact with Genesis.
Genesis’s eyes watered as James’s father said nothing. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, but she was more concerned with the way the family treated James so disrespectfully. James saw the tears stream down her cheek but she said nothing. For a moment, he thought about telling his father all the things he wanted to say but something inside him told him to bite his tongue. Genesis wiped her eyes and regained her composure, suddenly indifferent to his father’s treatment. As James prepared to stand, her hand reached out to his and restrained him.
His father finished his breakfast, tossed the plate in the kitchen sink, and walked out the door. James let out a sigh, a deep breath, and then cried.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“That is the last time I’ll ever see him.”
"Are you sure you won’t regret saying that?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not anymore. I don’t need negative people in my life.”
She nodded, trying again to understand. “What about your mother?”
Just then, Becky skipped down the stairs with a joyful smile on her face. “You two ready to disappoint your father?” she said with a laugh.
“Five minutes ago,” James replied as he swallowed his last bite.
James and Genesis left his childhood home for the last time a few minutes later. By afternoon, they were married by a city official.
John Archer sat aboard a small jet with the man who had whisked him away from his old home. The man, who identified himself in the limousine as simply Roger, sat across from Archer and continued studying him. The plane began to taxi and a minute later was airborne.
“May I ask where we are going?” Archer asked.
“You are free to
ask
anything,” Roger replied with a smirk that left no doubt in Archer’s mind that the location would remain a secret.
“Well, then, while we’re here, why not tell me more about yourself?” Archer suggested.
“I am but one of many individuals who wishes better things for mankind.”
A very young girl, possibly under eighteen, approached Archer from behind and served him a drink. “That’s very cryptic of you,” he said to Roger. He nodded to the girl, who after bowing slightly to Roger, walked away.
“Please understand, Doctor Archer,” Roger said, “that for the time being we need to keep a certain level of confidentiality about our purposes.”
“But surely that doesn’t include who
you
are, does it?”
Roger smirked again. “Very well. What would you like to know?”
“You already seem to know so much about me,” Archer continued. “I just fail to see how my work on time-travel is going to affect mankind in such grandiose ways you imagine.”
“Ah, so you
do
want to know about the mission, then?”
“No,” Archer backpedaled, “Well, yes, of course. But that’s not my point. My work was largely theoretical. It will take years before anything can be built that would put my work into practice.”
“And as I said at your home, Doctor, you will not want for resources. Even time is relative.”
“Of course,” he said as he looked out the window and saw a vast ocean beneath them. “And since time seems to be all we have a lot of right now, how about you tell me more about your work and how it so desperately needs mine?”
Roger kept his eyes focused on Archer without blinking. A moment later, he sat back and unbuttoned his shirt’s top collar. “Very well.”
Val Ferguson stood quietly over the grave of her husband.
What a stupid war
, she thought. One month. One month was all the time she had with him.
Although greatly saddened by her loss, as she stood over his grave, she didn’t shed a tear. The funeral ended an hour earlier and the graveyard was now empty, with only a crisp November chill lingering. A tall man approached Val slowly, and in an indefinable accent, said: “I’m truly sorry for your loss, young lady.”
She turned around and scowled at the man. Her expression softened when she saw his smile-less face. “This shouldn’t have happened,” she said.
He stepped forward. “Nor ever happen again,” he said in agreement.
“Hm,” she mumbled, as though acknowledging his sentiment, but doubtfully.
“This is such an inconvenient time, but I beg for a few moments of your time, Ms. Ferguson.”
Without a hint of wonder about how he knew her name, she said: “On the contrary, with my husband gone and an empty house waiting, I can’t think of a better time for a drink.” Val and the man she would soon come to know as Roger left the cemetery without uttering a word to each other.
Twenty minutes later, Val was half-drunk, having numbed herself with the drinks she just chugged at the pub down the street from the cemetery. Roger examined her patiently, determined to let her break the silence.
She rewarded his patience seconds later. “Have you ever wondered what the world would truly be like without war?” she mused.
Roger smiled. “What do
you
think it would be like?”
“A lot like this beer,” she explained. “It makes me feel good, but it always leaves me wanting something…more. Do you know what I mean?” He nodded. “I think a measure of conflict is a good thing once in a while.”
“I see,” he said.
“Not that I like war,” she said in defense. “I just can’t imagine a perfect society where everyone gets along forever. Eventually, people will fight. And if bad people surface, then people should.”
“Do you think that will ever happen?”
“Not without a lot of death and destruction first.”
“How much would be necessary in your view?”
“Total,” she answered, without hesitating.
“So,” he began, “you believe that to truly achieve a utopia, we must completely start over.”
She sat still with her head bowed, taking the time to answer clearly. “I used to see a world that made sense. Good triumphed over evil; martyrs rewarded. But it’s not enough anymore. Fighting evil without attacking its source only leaves the problem for a future generation.”
“And what do you believe to be the source of all evil?”
“This whole society. We’ll never have peace as long as we’re so divided.”
Roger leaned forward to engage her in the debate deeper. “So, are nations the problem? Race? Money?”
“All of it. Not that there should only be one race, but one nation definitely! And no money either.”
“Ah,” he said, “I see now what you mean. There can be no lines on a map for true peace to exist.”
She shook her head. “This civilization has failed us all. I can only hope we get it right next time.”
“Then I am indeed glad we’ve met,” Roger said. “I’m actually the head of an organization devoted to doing just that: getting it right.”
She began to laugh, but then realized she didn’t need to. For a reason she didn’t understand, she knew he wasn’t joking. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked, just to confirm.
The man sat back and folded his hands. “We’ve recently acquired the work of a brilliant physicist who has made an incredible discovery during his employ for the United States government. Further questioning has revealed he is uncommitted to our ultimate goal, but we need his work to achieve it. Doctor Archer is heading an expedition that will allow us to meet our ends, despite not knowing our true aims. I am impressed with Doctor Archer’s altruism, but he fails to see the larger picture. But you are not so short-sighted, so you can see why I am happy to meet you.”
She chugged the rest of her beer. “Before we sit here a minute longer, I want facts: what are your ultimate goals?”
He waited a moment and studied her. “What I am about to share is so sensitive, I normally do not speak of it on American soil. Doctor Archer's work relates to traveling through time. He is under the impression that the expedition will gather medicine and cures from the future to bring back and solve all of our greatest ills. Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. Without his knowledge, we have
performed several reconnaissance missions using his technology. We have isolated a weapon designed as the ultimate deterrent to nuclear war, which not surprisingly, is still a threat in the future. When activated from the atmosphere, it finds the genetic markers common to all humans and eliminates those life forms. So as not to be mistaken, within seconds, seven billion lives will come to an abrupt – but necessary – end.”