Slingshot

Time: February 14, 2017

David sat on his stool, nursed his beer and tried hard not to look at the door whenever it opened. He knew nobody he wanted to see would come walking through it. At this point, the staff knew about his ritual of coming to the pub every Valentine's Day. He was sure there were stories and curiosity about why he did it. Perhaps even a legend or two on occasions when a young woman would show up and whisk him away.

But no one ever asked, and he never offered.

He was 68-years-old. He'd visited this pub on Valentine's Day for 47 years. Only three of those years had been good ones. You didn't need to be a scientific genius to figure out that the percentages were pretty awful.

Then again, he wasn't a scientific genius. Ask anyone. He was barely still a Doctor. When he last spoke to Gemma, she warned him that Miles's retaliation towards him would be epic. He thought he could handle it. You don't become a physicist specializing in time travel science and not develop a thick skin.

But still...

It had been 10 years since he'd last seen Gemma, and he knew he wouldn't see her again. The tenth anniversary of his greatest achievement was 10 days away. Nine years and six months since his war with Miles began. The man was convinced David was holding out on him. And so began the threats, the lawsuits, and the mysterious break-ins. After his fourth mugging, David rarely went out at night.

Even the nest egg he hid away with Gemma's help was running low. If Miles didn't ease up at some point, David worried he'd become homeless. All he did these days was equations at home that no one got to see and deal with Miles's latest attempt to ruin him.

He missed Gemma. It was an ache that never went away.

The door opened and closed, and David never looked up from his beer. Someone sat on the stool next to him, ordered a beer, and got carded. She was just 19. Over the last nine years, he stopped telling people the seat was reserved. The bar staff stopped diverting people. The place was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night, and seating was at a premium. He glanced up from his beer and looked in the mirror past the bar and the person sitting next to him.

He froze.

He noticed two things right away. The first was a faint glow. It was the kind of glow he'd seen only three times before.

The second, he wouldn't let himself believe quite yet.

"Huh, it's been a while."

"Sorry?" the young woman said. She was looking around the bar as if she was memorizing the place.

"It's been a while since I last saw a time traveller. Ten years, to be exact."

She looked at him and smiled. It wasn't a mean smile or the smile of a woman indulging a senile old man. She seemed curious.

"And you have a lot of experience with time travellers, do you?"

"More than just about anybody else on the planet, probably."

"You know that sounds crazy, right?"

"God, yes. But here I am, talking to another time traveller on February 14," he said, turning to look at her. It was, somehow, worse looking at her directly.

Now, her smile faltered. She seemed a little more uncertain.

"So what makes me one?" she asked.

"Well, you glow. It's almost imperceptible, but there it is if you look for it. I suspect it has to do with chronal energy from your time clashing with the chronal energy of this time. It'll actually get stronger for you the longer you're here," David said. "The first time I saw a time traveller, I barely noticed it, but I was a little drunk and a lot smitten. But I thought it was there the second time, so I noted it. And it was definitely there the third. So yeah, you're a time traveller."

The woman laughed. "Maybe it's just the light."

"Could be," he said, nodding his head. "The fact that you're the spitting image of your mother kind of seals it, though."

The smile vanished. She turned away, and strawberry blond hair swirled over her face. She nodded a couple of times and then turned back to face him.

"She told me trying to be coy with you would be a waste of time," she said.

David had so many thoughts and emotions running through his body he didn't know where to begin. He knew he would never see Gemma again, but her daughter?

"Thank God, she's ok," he said, his voice much shakier than he thought it would be. "The last time I saw her, I thought she was going to die. All these years, I have wondered if she made it home okay, and then I see you."

"Why did you think she was dead?" The woman looked shocked by the news.

"Before she...disappeared, she was in bad shape. Shaking, her skin was starting to blister. Slurred speech. And...I thought I heard her scream when she disappeared."

The woman scowled. Clearly, this was new information.

"Oh, she's getting such a talking to when I get back. All this bullshit about it being too risky and how there had been some drama on her last slingshot. I thought the two of you had a fight or something. But she stayed here long enough to get severe Chronal Rejection Syndrome. God....

"Anyway, sorry, she's ok. She won't be when I return, but she's fine."

"When I saw her, I didn't know the price you had to pay to time travel. But now I do. You're going to be in agony in a few hours. This could take years off your life. How did she let you do this?" he said.

The woman laughed, sipped her beer, and made a face.

"I don't see how Mom drinks this stuff," she said, looking at him. "You may have gotten an idea of it from being around her, but you could never tell Mom she couldn't do something. If she wanted to do it, it was going to happen. Guess who takes after her?"

David sighed and shook his head.

"So, what bad news are you here to bring today?"

She looked puzzled, so David continued.

"The first time I met Gemma... your mother, she convinced me to stay in school and not chase after an ex. The second time, she told me I would invent time travel. The third, she told me I couldn't give my discovery to my sponsor, who ruined my life in retaliation. So if you're here, I assume it's something life-changing," he said.

"Miles has taken up mountain climbing," she said.

"Oh?"

"Mmmm. He decided to climb Everest this year. He's not going to make it back down. And because he's paranoid about someone taking his companies, the succession will be a mess. Let's just say you're going to fall through the cracks in a few months," she said.

Then she pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and slid it to him. On it was a name he recognized from his days working with Miles. They'd both been competing to develop a working time travel theory. Miles had more money, they had more ethics. They would have lost if he hadn't walked away. They wanted to hire him, but the horde of lawyers Miles unleashed on them made them reconsider.

"They'll be able to help once you're free and clear."

David picked up the note, looked at it, and then at the woman. For the first time, he noticed her eyes. She didn't have Gemma's. They looked much older than the rest of her. There was something...odd about them he couldn't put his finger on. But not as strange as what she was doing here.

"This is great and all, but this makes no sense. Your mom pissed me off at times, but they were clear moments of intervention. This," he said, waving the paper, "makes no sense. You transited back in time, at huge personal risk, just to tell me something will happen soon. It's going to happen regardless of whether you came back or not. It's not like I'm going to rush off and save the life of the man who destroyed my life."

The woman looked at him. Really looked at him, sighed and shook her head.

"Damn it, now I owe Mom breakfast," the woman said.

"I said you would spot it right away. She said there was no chance. That you were brilliant at science, but kinda dense regarding people."

"That was kind of her," he said, annoyed that she quickly picked up on that in their short time together. "I've done well picking up that you're a time traveller and Gemma's daughter."

"True," she conceded. "But, she told me you knew she was a time traveller but didn't pick up on the fact you'd invent time travel until she pointed it out."

David sighed and nodded his head.

"And right now, for example, you haven't asked my name."

"No, I haven't. Sorry," David said, feeling bad. "So, what's your name?"

"Meredith," she said. And suddenly, David had to grab the edge of the bar to stop himself from sliding off the stool.

"That was my mother's name," he whispered.

"I know. It's my grandmother's name too...Dad."

He sat looking at her and didn't know what to say for once in his life. Finally, the most straightforward, easiest question came to him.

"How?"

She smirked as if hoping he would ask that question.

"Well, I know you're a physics professor, Dad, but I would have thought you had basic biology down."

"Meredith," he said, in a tone that surprised him. It sounded exasperated. Exactly the way a father did when his child was being particularly bratty or annoying. A huge grin lit up her face.

"I'm a miracle, Dad," she said, delighting in being able to say the word finally. "I got called it enough when I was a kid."

She pulled out an envelope from her coat and handed it to him. His name was on it. He took it from her and opened it with only a tiny shake of his hands. Inside was a letter and a handful of pictures. He placed the letter on the bar and started looking at the photos.

"Oh god, did she include baby pictures in there?" she asked, then got off the stool and went over to his side, resting her chin on his shoulder. For the first time, he noticed how tall she was. Meredith wasn't quite his height of 6'2", but she was much taller than her mother. One more miracle to ponder. By his calculations, it should be impossible for her to travel here. But then he saw the picture of her as a newborn in Gemma's arms, and for once, the science dropped away.

There were more pictures. Meredith playing soccer, singing on stage, and sitting in a big chair intensely focussing on a physics book. The last was a recent photo of Meredith and Gemma. He stared at her. She was older, had more wrinkles around the eyes, and had longer hair. To his relief, she looked like she put on some weight and had curves. He always worried she was too thin, and once he invented time travel, he knew why.

But most importantly, she looked happy. David went through all the pictures again and carefully placed them on the envelope resting on the bar. Then he opened Gemma's letter.

Surprise!

I don't know if this is the best or worst thing I've done to you, and I've done some whoppers during our brief time together.

Because I know your brain, I know right now you're going, "But how? She said she was on birth control. And the shock of transiting from one time to another should have ended any pregnancy."

Well, to answer the easiest one - the last time we were together, I was off my birth control. I would never see you again, and I wanted some...part of you with me when I went home.

As for the other, I have no idea. I knew the odds of it working were impossible. For all the reasons you're thinking. But then again, so is time travel.

In case you were wondering, very much against the rules. But I did not, and still do not care. Meredith is worth every bit of foolishness I had to deal with at the Institute.

I hope, pray, that you're not mad at me. I've interfered with your life in so many ways. But she's a miracle and an incredible young woman. I hope you take the time to get to know her. She is very much our daughter. My stubbornness and rebellious streak. Your brains and height. And so much more.

I wish I could be there with you. I've missed you every day for the last 20 years.

Gemma Rogers-Sale (actually, it's Emma Rogers. You're going to need to know that soon.)

David placed the letter on the photos and tried not to cry. He felt his daughter press up against him and leaned into her hug.

"I'm going to have to find her soon? She's alive now?" he said. A brief hope flared of seeing her again.

"She is, but she's still young. I'm speculating, but I'm betting the reason she was so sick when you last saw her in 2007 was because two of her were alive in that year. Time doesn't like that sort of thing," she said. There was a pause. Meredith was trying very hard not to break his heart again.

"Dad, you know you can't go looking for her, right? It'll have to be someone else who finds Mom and brings her into the Institute."

He nodded.

"I know," he said softly. Then he noticed the name again and smiled. "She took my name. So you're Meredith Rogers-Sale?"

"Dr. Rogers-Sale, actually."

"Doctor?! How old are you?"

"Nineteen," she said, looking proud of herself. "Convocated on my birthday last December. This is kinda my graduation gift. Mom was...is nervous as hell, but ever since I found out about you when I was 13, I said I was slingshotting back to meet you."

"That's the second time you've said slingshot."

"What you call transitting. It's what they call it at the Institute," she said. And then a piece fell into place. "Which they never would have called it if I hadn't come back and just told you that."

They grinned.

"Fucking time travel," they said at the same time and laughed. Then David turned serious.

"I know you only have a few hours, and I have so many questions...."

"No, you don't."

David was confused. He's seen what happened with Gemma. His research showed what happened when a person transited - slingshot - into the past. Staying any longer than eight hours would be excruciating. Anything past 11 hours was fatal. And each trip got shorter. Time travel left a distinct signature on the human body. The more chronal energy you acquired, the quicker rejection happened when you were in a time not your own.

"Meredith...."

"Dad, I've read your research. It's brilliant stuff, by the way. Honestly, I was so proud when I read it. I've, ah, even made some improvements on it. People can slingshot for 15 hours on their first trip now. We can go back even further in time. But even still, I'm....unique."

Then David got his next bombshell of the evening.

"Because you were conceived either in a different time or while your mother was transitioning."

She nodded. "Yup. Time started getting...weird for me when I hit puberty. That's when Mom had to tell me who you were. I had friends in university whose dads were lawyers or professional athletes. I didn't have a dad and didn't know anything about him. At least you had a good reason for not sending child support payments," she laughed.

David looked stricken.

"Damn it, Mom told me not to make that joke. Sorry, Dad," she said, looking embarrassed. "Anyway, she told me after an incident who you were and when I was conceived. It's not your usual "the Talk" you get from your mom when you turn 13. 'You were conceived in 2007 and your dad invented time travel.'

"Of course, I couldn't tell anyone. But it was much cooler than Casey, whose dad played with the Leafs for a couple of seasons."

David tried to process everything, but was stuck on one word during his daughter's ramble.

"Incident?"

She nodded. "Have any change on you?"

He reached into his pants pocket and took out a handful. Meredith plucked a quarter from his hand and placed it on the bar. She glanced around to see if anyone was looking in their direction. She then spun the coin on the counter.

She left it alone for a few seconds. Then it....slowed. It didn't wobble as it lost momentum and spin. It started spinning slower, as if time was moving slower around the coin. Then it sped up, spinning quicker and then ending on the table as if on fast forward.

"I can slow down and speed up time in a small area. Have to be careful with it, But it was messy for a bit when puberty kicked in. Might have 'accidentally' frozen a bully in time and kicked him in the balls. But I have it under control now," Meredith said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be able to control time.

He looked at her dumbstruck.

"We think this also means I can return on an open-ended slingshot. There's no automatic recall like with Mom and the others. I can stay here with you until I'm ready to go home. Not sure how long that'll be. The Institute thinks a few days. Mom thinks a few weeks. I think it'll be a few months. Probably six. Mom says that Time is a mean bitch, and she's not wrong. At some point she will notice I don't belong here and I'll have to go.

"So, can I crash with you for a bit? Is that ok," she asked, and for the first time, looked unsure.

The last 10 years of David's life had been a horror show. Cursed at. Mocked in every way possible. A shattered professional reputation. He bled friends like he was haemorrhaging. At least once a day, David wondered if discovering time travel was worth the price.

He had the answer standing in front of him. Almost six feet tall, blondish-red hair, weird eyes, impish smile and all. Time travel was now a distant second in the great discoveries of his life.

"It's not much, but you can stay as long as you want," he said.

"Cool!" she said, bouncing on her toes. "Let's get out of here. I'm starving. They have good pizza in this time, right?"

"I know a place," he said, settling the bill and walking towards the door. She followed, looping her arm through his.

"So listen, I know I can't ask much about the future, but have the Leafs won the Cup in your time?"

Meredith grinned. Her mom probably told her he'd ask.

"Nope. Sorry, Dad," she said.

"For fuck's sake," he said, and they left the bar.

Location: Toronto, Canada

Time: February 14, 2047

Out of habit, every time the door opened to the Black Bull Pub, Gemma looked to see who was coming in. Insane, of course. David was long dead. Meredith was currently with him in 2017. It's the reason why she was drinking in the pub to begin with. She couldn't bear to watch Meredith slingshot. She knew what it felt like. Watching her daughter dissolve before her eyes was more than she could handle today.

Instead, she came to the pub and sat on her stool. Seventy-seven years ago, she sat beside a cute, awkward, only-just-barely a man who would change the world. And now, 30 years in the past, he was meeting their 19-year-old daughter for the first time.

"Fucking time travel," she said, toasting no one in particular.

The door opened again and Gemma looked over on reflex. Except this time, she did recognize the person walking in. It had been years since she last laid eyes on Chair One. But you never forget the face of the woman who kicked you out of the Institute and tried to seize your daughter. Even if she was in her 80s now.

She walked over towards Gemma, stopped and smiled.

"Revisiting the scene of the crime?"

"Enjoying a beer until a moment ago, Chair One," Gemma replied.

"I'm retired. Patricia is fine."

Gemma knew she was retired. It was the only way she would let Meredith have anything to do with the Institute.

"And you're still going by Gemma, I see."

"After everything, it felt wrong to go back to my old name. Why are you here, Chair One?"

Chair One/Patricia sighed.

"I promise I won't intrude for long. But could we please sit at one of the tables? Sitting on one of these stools at my age is tempting fate for a broken hip," she said.

Gemma thought evil thoughts but grabbed her beer and went to one of the empty tables. She considered offering to buy a drink, but then Patricia might end up lingering long enough to finish it. And the last thing Gemma wanted was to be in her presence one second longer than possible. It was a Sunday night and the pub wasn't rocking at the moment. Patricia sat down across from her. She pulled a wrapped package from her bag and placed it on the table. Gemma was curious but didn't say anything.