A Cruz Through Time

A Revolutionary Mission

It was a dark, dark day. The New York skyline towered over the horizon like an enormous forest. A cold wind blew, making Senator Ted Cruz shake in his expensive black loafers.
"I don't know if I can do five more blocks in these buddies," Ted whined. "And this cold, in March no less! My bones are rattled." Ted heaved a sigh as he continued down the sidewalk.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp tug on the hood of his jacket.
"What in tarnation is going on?!" Ted yelled as he was yanked back into an alley.  He tried to wriggle free as he was pulled further and further back, but his squirms and flails did nothing to loosen the grip that this vandal had on him.
"Unhand me at once, you scoundrel!" Ted screamed, sweat running down his face. His weak attempt to put up a fight had left him exhausted. Ted continued to be dragged through a series of twists and turns, down stairs, and around corners. Eventually, they stopped in front of a dark metal door.
"Where have you taken me?!" Ted demanded, stomping his feet like a child. The mysterious vandal turned around to face him. It was none other than Mitt Romney!
"Mitt!" Ted yelped, jumping back in shock. "What is the meaning of all this?" Mitt held a finger to his lip and opened the door in front of them.
Past the door was a massive room filled with rows of computers and desks. Dozens of people in lab coats sat typing fervently into documents, and others were scurrying about with clipboards. The walls were lined with flat-screen televisions, all running various news networks.
"What the heck is all this?" Ted exclaimed, his feet echoing on the metal floor as he stepped inside. Mitt put his hand on Ted's shoulder and smiled.
"Welcome to the National Time Travel Guild," Mitt said, gesturing around the room. "Here, some of the government's top politicians and scientists have been studying and creating methods of time travel, all out of the public eye. Amazing, right?" Mitt turned to Ted, whose eyes were darting around the room like a bird searching for prey.
"H-how?" Ted stammered. "And why did you bring me here?"
"There's someone who'd like to speak with you, Ted," said Mitt. "Just follow me." Mitt led Ted through a winding maze of desks and people. They passed huge, complex-looking machines, and computers the size of Ted himself.
At last, they reached a large metal door at the back of the room. Mitt pressed a tiny buzzer next to the door, after which a click! sound was heard and the door popped open slightly. Mitt held open the door and gestured to a bewildered Ted. "After you," he said.
Ted stepped through the door to see a large wooden desk surrounded by swivel chairs. One by one, the chairs began to swivel around. Each chair contained a presidential candidate! The whole squad's here, Ted thought. Marco Rubio, Chris Christie, Jeb Bush, even Ben Carson and Bernie Sanders; all were here. But why? Ted thought, staring at the last unswiveled chair in the line. He heard a chuckle from behind the chair as it slowly and dramatically swiveled around.
"Welcome, Ted. We have been waiting for you."
It was Hillary Clinton!
"Hillary?!" Ted exclaimed. "Can someone explain to me what the heck is going on here?" Hillary smiled and beckoned for Ted to sit down. He found a swivel chair and sat across from Hillary.
"What's the deal here?" Ted asked, his eyes darting around the room. "Are you trying to kill me? Because if you are, you're going to have a hecking hard time covering it up." Hillary laughed and swatted her hand at Ted.
"Oh, heck no!" Hillary chuckled, wiping her forehead with her hand. "You really are a funny one, Ted. Which makes you perfect for this."
"F-for what?" Ted stuttered, gripping the arms of the swivel chair. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Oh, it's not anything we're going to do to you," Hillary explained, standing up from her seat. "It's what we need you to do for us." A projector screen descended behind Hillary, she stepped next to it as it began to display pictures of news headlines.
"Cruz falling in polls," Hillary read. "Trump numbers rising. Doesn't this concern you a little bit?" Ted shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Um, well," Ted said, "of course anyone rivaling me concerns me." Hillary turned away from the projector to face Ted.
"Trump is a threat to all of us here. If his numbers keep going up, we're all going to be doomed." The projector shifted to an image of Trump's orange face. "What we need to do—" The image shifted again, this time to Trump's face with a red X over it—"is take him out."
Ted began to shake. "Y-you want me to-to kill him? Like, murder him?" Hillary shook her head.
"Well, not quite. We just need you to make him never consider running for president in the first place. We need you to go back to where it all started."
"The start of the election?"
"Nope, even farther." Hillary took out a pen and some paper from her pocket and began writing down a date and address.
"June 14th, 1946. 10:54 AM." Hillary read aloud as she wrote. "Jamaica Hospital, Queens." She slid the paper to Ted, who folded it up and stuck it in his suit pocket. "We will send you back there. Do whatever it takes. Switch around carriages, mess with the names, whatever you need to do."
"So you want me to kill an infant?" Ted protested. What was Hillary and his squad up to?
"Oh, no," Hillary replied. "We're not going to have you murdering anybody just yet, no less a newborn! Just try and switch things up a little!" She smiled confidently at Ted. Ted was still perplexed by this whole thing.
"So you're telling me," he said, "that you want to send me back in time, to mess with the past so Trump doesn't run?"
"That's correct."
"Do I get any say in this? Why couldn't Rubio do it? Or Christie?"
Hillary pursed her lips. "You were the best choice for confidential reasons. By this point we've told you too much to just let you go. We'd probably have to kill you, in case you went blabbing. And we couldn't have you letting the cat out of the bag, now could we?" She smiled sympathetically. "Good. Now, let's get you all ready to go." Hillary began to lead Ted out of the room.
"What about my family? My schedule?" Ted protested. Hillary waved her hand dismissively.
"Already taken care of. No need for you to worry about it."
Ted followed Hillary through more hallways and doors until they reached a massive set of heavy doors lined with caution tape.
"Here we are!" Hillary exclaimed as the door opened in front of them. Ted saw a huge metal cylinder with dozens of flashing lights looming in front of them.  Ted couldn't see the top of the contraption. Hillary waved Ted inside and promptly shut the door.
"We're going to supply you with money and clothing to help blend in." A random worker dropped a pair of gray trousers, a white collared shirt, a black suit vest, and a gray fedora onto Ted's arms. Ted shriveled up in disgust. A fedora? Was he some common hipster?
"Put these on," Hillary directed, "and then meet us in front of the machine." Ted found a corner to change in, changed, and then went back to the machine.
"Alright, Ted," Hillary began. "What you're going to do is step into the machine once we open it. Then we'll send you back. You're going to get directions to Jamaica Hospital in Queens and do what you have to. When you're done, come back to wherever you wind up on the initial warp. Got it?" Ted nodded in agreement. However, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut.
"Are you sure this is safe?" Ted asked, turning to look at the huge mass of metal. Could that thing really send him back in time? What would happen if it didn't?
"You'll be fine," Hillary replied, now starting to sound agitated. "Now let's go." Hillary led Ted around the side of the machine, where a horde of technicians were typing away into tablets. The sides of the machine began to split open and slide apart, revealing a platform with a chair in the center of the machine. Ted took a few hesitant steps inside. The walls loomed like a great cave, making Ted shiver.
"Alright, now sit down in that chair and we'll buckle you in," directed Hillary. As Ted sat down, another technician fastened a seatbelt around Ted. He suddenly began to shake. What if something went wrong and he died? What if he got trapped in the past? Would anyone come rescue him? And why was he even here in the first place? Time travel? He should've known that these people were crazy.
"I don't want to do this anymore!" Ted protested, trying to stand up. However, he was bound to the chair. Sweat began to roll down his face. "You're all crazy, all of you! What makes you so sure this'll work? This isn't a sci-fi story!" Hillary stood at the doorway, her hands on her hips and her mouth pursed in a thin line.
"We need you, Ted," Hillary said, stepping out of the machine. "And stop squirming around like that. We don't need you to break something." The doors snapped shut, leaving Ted in a crushing darkness. He began to hyperventilate. This was all too much for him, a humble Senator. He didn't want to be here! He was too swept up in the idea initially to make a run for it.
Suddenly, white lights inside the machine began to flicker. A screen lit up in front of Ted which displayed a date: June 14th, 1946, 10:54 AM. A loud voice began booming in the machine.
"Begin time travel in five...four...three...two..."
And then everything went black.