Linear Shift, Part 1

Chapter 0

February 11th, 1942

 

Dr. Bernard Epson sat triumphantly in his studio laboratory, applying the final touches to his theory of time travel. It had been twelve grueling years since he'd first begun his groundbreaking project. Completion was near, and his tongue could taste the finality, like the tang of history itself. He leaned back in his worn leather chair, basking in his accomplishment, his eyes surveying the notes and scribblings placed on virtually every surface in his modest workshop.

Bernard dreaded his next exercise. With the majority of his progressive research documented in his journals, this final stage was troublesome but necessary. The creak of the front door redirected his attention to the man entering his lab.

"Professor? Good morning. Have you been here long?" asked his assistant as he closed the oil-starved door behind him.

"Wha? Oh yes. I, um... I haven't been home yet. Is it really morning?" he replied drearily, longing someday for a workspace with a window. He'd lost count of how many sleepless nights he had spent in his lab alone.

"Yes, Professor. It's just after seven." he paused as he crossed to his diminutive desk in the corner of the room. "You promised me that you wouldn't work yourself so hard. Have you eaten?"

"Um, yes. I had Miss Stewart bring me a croque-monsieur before she left last night," lied the doctor. As the words escaped his mouth, he realized he was famished.

"Well, that's good, sir. Did you make any progress on the final equations?" he inquired with abundant interest.

"As a matter of fact, I resolved the final hurdle not fifteen minutes ago." Dr. Epson sprang from his chair, ignoring the protests from his fatigued muscles. "You see, if we replace this algorithm with..."

As Dr. Epson continued with his explanation, his assistant listened intently, masking his concerns. As a member of the Society, he, like his associates, prayed the professor would never unlock the secrets to time travel. The professor's successes were a complication that required subtle interference. Only half-listening to the doctor's commentary, his mind began to devise a way to sidetrack the man's progress. He needed to get the doctor out of the lab for a while, so that he could alter a few of the minute, yet critical calculations before they could be recorded.

"That's fantastic, Professor! You must be extremely proud of this monumental achievement." His compliment was genuine, but not entirely sincere. "I think what we need is a celebration. You've been here all night and must be exhausted. Why don't you go home and catch a quick nap? After you're rested, we can go out for a celebratory lunch. It'll be my treat—and afterward, we can begin the process of recording all of your data into the journals."

Bernard was tired and knew that if he began the tedious task of documenting the observations now, he would make mistakes. What his trusted assistant suggested was wise.

"All right. I accept your offer of celebration. Let's make it three and invite Miss Stewart." Dr. Epson hoped his affection for the attractive Miss Stewart would not canvas his face. She had been in his employ from the very beginning, and although they had worked together for years, he had never yet found the courage to act upon his feelings.

"I think that is a wonderful idea, Professor. I'll set everything up. You go and get some rest." He nearly shoved the doctor towards his coat.

"Yes, yes. I'll get some rest, but as soon as we're back from lunch, we'll get this recorded and begin staging the build. I want to test this device by mid-year!"

His assistant was staggered. "You want to what?" he stammered.

"I want to start testing the device within the next four months."

'But—but how can we do that without funding?"

"Oh come now, my boy. Do you think I haven't been dreaming of this day for years? I have more than enough money to build the first device, and I know that once it's complete, I'll be able to persuade someone to invest in the future. Or the past, as it were." He chuckled.

Dr. Bernard Epson's devious assistant was speechless. He'd have to act more swiftly than he'd anticipated in order to keep the doctor from moving the project to the next stage. With subterfuge on his mind, he smiled brightly. "Fantastic, sir! I can't wait to assist you in this historical undertaking!"

The doctor donned his topcoat and hat and bid his assistant a brief farewell. As he walked out the door, he began to eagerly ponder what his first time travel destination would be.