Time Maze

Short Trip

"Well, there goes that plan," Marcus muttered upon hitting the ground harder than usual, even before opening his eyes.

"It was worth a try," Sybil said, getting up and dusting herself off.

"Where are we?" Tyson asked, already on his feet, trying to get his bearings.

"It seems we might be in a more recent year," Sybil said confidently.

"How can you tell?" Tyson asked.

"Well, I can see cars and buildings that don't match the ones made in the distant past. Besides, those cars look like they are not the most modern ones. Yet, they aren't old either," Sybil said, carefully scanning the street from the alleyway the timenado had dumped them in. "If I had to guess, I would say we are somewhere from the 60s to early 70s."

"Oh, come on! There is no way you can know that!" Tyson exclaimed frustratedly.

He was annoyed that he couldn't really tell where they were, and her statement only added another layer to his annoyance. It was like he failed at the one job he had, and that was to know where and when exactly they were.

"November 22, 1963," Marcus said from behind them, adding to Tyson's misery.

"How can you know that?" Tyson said, whirling around to face his friend.

"It says so in the newspaper," Marcus said, pointing at the newspaper he had found on the ground.

Tyson felt a sense of relief that he was not obsolete, that it was just a fluke that everyone seemed better informed than him. Still, the fact that Sybil could tell without cheating made him curious.

"Sybil, how did you know?" Tyson asked more calmly.

"I've learned to distinguish between different years, even places based on architecture, what people wear, and even how polluted the air is," Sybil said absentmindedly.

"But how is that possible?" Tyson said, unable to imagine being able to do something like that no matter how hard he tried.

"Tyson, I've spent years in the Maze, spending time with people who have been here even longer than me. I was bound to pick up a few tricks," Sybil said, looking around, paying attention to every small detail. "Now, I know that your male egos are very sensitive, but I need you to focus on the issue at hand."

"My ego doesn't have anything to do..." Tyson started to say.

"Tyson! It's November 22, 1963," Sybil said pointedly.

"So?" Tyson said, still annoyed that she would talk to him like he was a small child. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, you don't think?"

"Yes, I think we are where we shouldn't be. That, over there, is Texas School Book Depository," Sybil said, cautiously looking around.

"Well, we are in trouble. I thought these visits to the past are getting longer, but we are thrust in the thick of it," Tyson said, having to let go of yet another theory that he hoped could be of some use to them.

"There are no strict rules about the length of any trip. But this one does seem like it will be quite a short one," Sybil said, trying to calculate the best course of action to avoid the event.

"What time is it? We need to be anywhere but here," Tyson said, looking for the best route that led as far away from the place as possible.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Marcus asked, annoyed and confused in equal measure.

"We are about to become involved in one of the most important events. It can be quite dangerous," Tyson quickly said.

"Then, let's leave," Marcus said.