Rantings of an Arranged Mind

We met again to iron out the last few details of the mission.

"First of all, you cannot discuss time travel with anyone who has not time travelled," Jacobs told me.

"How will I know?"

"If you don't know, don't talk about it," Van said, grinning. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Do not kill anyone in the past unless you can verify that they died," Jacobs continued.

"Verify how?" I said, a little shocked by the idea.

"You can check obituaries the very next day, if you apport," Johnson said. "I don't think that will be necessary."

I shivered. Who would be so cold-blooded as to get mad at someone, travel into their future to find their obituary, and then pop back to kill them to match the obituary? That was some pre-meditation.

"Your mission is thus: travel back to your era. Connect with your sister. Help her acquire funding to pay for her education and begin work on her time machine. Get her to meet Diggory Franklin. Help their relationship blossom. Get Diggory to travel through the finished machine on September eleventh, two thousand and nine Gregorian calendar," Jacobs finished.

"That's it?"

"There's a lot of room for improvisation," Johnson shrugged.

"Yeah, I could fly a star cruiser through some of the holes."

They laughed. I didn't.

"You're throwing me three hundred years or so into the past, on my own, to convince my sister to fall in love and build a time machine. That's crazy."

"Yes, but it's an historical fact," Haven said. "So you'll find a way. You won't be without resources. You'll have a working chronometer."

"Oh, well, okay then."

That changed everything.