The Business of Time Travel Tourism

Chapter 22: A Serious Chapter about A Serious Man (part 1)

September 13, 2794. Tuesday.

Max sat in a restaurant filled with people having their breakfast. His table was the closest one to the entrance. All the walls had three-dimensional pictures covered by window frames, giving an illusion that the place was located on a skyscraper and had a beautiful view outside. You could see city stretching and disappearing in the horizon, flying vehicles, people walking on the bridges connecting sky towering buildings. The truth, however, was that the bar was located on a skyscraper indeed, but because of the smog outside no one could see more than five hundred meters ahead on the best weather conditions. Only the constant buzzing of flying vehicles and echoes of people provided one with the impression that the world outside of his vision range was alive.

At some point in the past, humanity had crossed a point of no return. The world had become unrepairable. Moonrise Enterprises did everything in their power to substitute the conventional, primitive energy sources but were already too late. No energy source, not even the extolled helium-three was clean enough to let the Earth get a break from pollution. Each passing year, the demand for energy increased and no one noticed how quickly the Earth had become one giant light bulb covered in inextinguishable smoke.

Everyone lived in the moment; they wanted the newest technologies but did not care what chemicals were needed to make their toys; they wanted to eat a lot and well, and did not care how much forest space was sacrificed to satisfy their needs; they wanted to travel fast and far and did not care what was the fuel composition of the high-speed planes or cruise ships. If one ever tried to take something the world owed the humans, especially the rich ones, he would face an unstoppable wave of negativity and resistance and his ideas would be pushed into the depths of ignorance.

Besides the incredibly low crime rates this world was far worse than George's.

Max lifted his glass filled with brown beverage and took it in one sip. "Bring me two more," he said to the waitress standing by the bar.

"Be there in a sec," she replied with a despicable tone and brought him two full glasses.

He did not like the look on her face. She must have thought he was a low drunkard, but her opinion did not matter. For him, she was a fool just like everyone in this room. He had a hell of a night and deserved a moment of relaxation, a peace of mind. Without hesitation, he drank half of the glass and put it on the table.

Everyone inside and the new clients who entered the place wore almost identical dark blue suits. Max's sleeveless gray jacket with a white clock on his chest, a cloth used only by the time cops, distinguished him from the crowd. Whenever a person entered the bar, Max would feel an eye stab from behind. The person would walk by showing no signs that the time cop disturbed him, but Max knew better. He knew that everyone in here despised and hated his kind.

It was because of the media, which lately had been nitpicking and scrutinizing every mistake, every misbehaves the time cops did. The result was that after multiple investigations were conducted, more and more time police departments and their time machines were getting shut down. One thing Max knew for sure, someone was sponsoring the vilifying and was interested to stop time cops from operating. Time cops were never famous for their kind character, but they were the only ones who saw the clear line between right and wrong, they were the ones who let others sleep calmly at night. Who were these fools to doubt their actions?

Max's stare met the eyes of one clerk. The suit instantly looked down into his empty food plate.

The time cop turned his attention to the holo screen spinning slowly by the ceiling. Core City news was on, showing a crime scene of a murder. After four hundred years of peace, crimes were taking place on the streets once again.