Acme Time Travel Incorporated - Volume 1

Mervin’s tour party (three men, including Mervin, and three women) had been inserted onto a peninsular on the 4th quadrant of SEG238. The time of insertion had given them a half-day’s trek to the location where they were to meet the caravanserai.

The terrain was slightly rocky, with low-lying brush and scrub. The air was warm and moist, and occasionally there was a hint of a slight fragrance. It was something sweet and aromatic. The sky had a purple tinge, and ’238’s twin moons could be seen low in the sky.

This was day 1 of 10 on Mervin’s stupidly expensive ACME-TRAVEL tour (“we take you anywhere / any-when”) to a planet (SEG238) which was a bloody long way away from Earth.

He was already cursing himself for not bedding in his brand-new boots. His feet were hurting like fuck. Everybody knows you don’t go off on a trip wearing brand-new footwear. They had looked good when he saw them on the comms-net, but they had turned up the day before he left, so he had done nothing more than wear them around his apartment.

Mervin’s Space/Time Unit (STU ... pronounced STEW) spoke to him, using its default young female voice.

“Mervin, I have detected that you are suffering a degree of pain ... seemingly caused by your footwear. If you wish, I could provide some degree of pain relief?”

STUs were wrist-worn artificial intelligence units. Black plasteel bracelets. Given out, one to each ACME-TOURS client, at the start of their space/time tour.

Mervin grunted. He didn’t like conversing with artificial intelligence units. He thought that there was something faintly ridiculous about walking along conversing to someone who wasn’t there. His sister had pretty much done that all of her life (but for different reasons), and it hadn’t really worked out for her in any good way.

“Alternatively,” the space-time unit said, “I could request a new set of boots ... a pair that may be more comfortable than the ones that you are currently wearing. Would you wish for me to provide you with replacement footwear?”

“I’ll wear these fuckers,” Mervin said.

“Very well, Mervin,” the STU replied.

“Come on Mervin, for God’s sake.”

Mervin looked up the hillside. It was George who had spoken. George was one of the other two men on the tour. It was George who was looking scathingly down the hill at Mervin.

Mervin reflected on his choice of tour. He had opted for this trip to SEG238, taking the option to visit that planet at a slightly future date. ACME-TOURS’ planetary reconnaissance teams had identified that SEG238’s semi-sentient species held a very large festival on this date. It was a popular tour, Mervin had been told, and fitted in well with the ‘requirements’ that Mervin had said would be desirable. The planet had a breathable atmosphere, the local inhabitants were not un-becoming, (Mervin had thought they looked very nice indeed on the vids) and ACME had suggested that the females of the species were usually very accommodating. The terms lithe and supple had also been mentioned.

ACME’s tour guide details had pointed out that 238’s local food and drink was suitable for human consumption, and although Mervin thought that was a bonus, he would have been prepared to do without the local fare and rely on the excellent cuisine provided by ACME in its tourist food packs. It had also advised that they had found they could insert tourists into the festival by adding them to one of several groups of nomadic peoples taking provisions to the festival. The planet’s indigenous species were largely sociable and very welcoming of newcomers. A point of concern was that ’238 contained some very virulent insect and plant life, but clients abiding by their STU’s guidance had never come to harm.

“We need to get a move on,” George grated to no one in particular, then gestured to the three girls who were walking up the slight incline that seemed to be defeating Mervin’s every effort to proceed.

“Look Mervin,” said George, “the girls are doing just fine. They probably trained for this expedition, just like Roger and me. You look like you trained by watching vids every day for a year.”

The three girls looked both irritated by George’s outright sexism and embarrassed by his display of irritation. George’s tour companion, Roger, didn’t look as though he was particularly in accord with George’s feelings either.

“Leave the poor guy alone,” Roger muttered to George. “So, Mervin isn’t especially fit, but we have loads of time. Just take it easy. The meeting place is just over the next hill. Then we have a few hours to kill. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Mervin slogged on.

He heard a low buzzing noise, like the beating of tiny wings. He looked around but couldn’t see anything.

“Mervin,” his STU said. “There are small flying insects in your vicinity which have been known to bite. They aren’t particularly dangerous, but they can cause skin irritations. I am going to set up an electrostatic screen around you. It will deter them. You might feel a tiny prickle from the screen, but don’t be alarmed by it.”

Mervin felt his skin start to prickle as the STU’s cocoon of energy surrounded him. He also noticed that the charge around him caused slight visual distortions. If he looked closely at an object with a straight edge, then the screen was causing a slight rippling effect.

“Is that ok, Mervin?” the STU asked. “Not too inconvenient, I hope.”

“Look,” Mervin snapped back. “I am paying a lot of money for this trip, so I want the least inconvenience that you can manage. Is that understood?”

“I understand that completely, Mervin,” the STU replied soothingly. “I will strive to maximise your enjoyment at all times. To this end I will reduce the protective cocoon around you so that it is barely perceptible, raising it only when insects are in close proximity.”

“I should hope so,” Mervin grunted, feeling that he had detected a slight hint of sarcasm in the STU’s voice.

The three women in the group had all come on the trip together. They were obviously good friends and they were enjoying themselves. They were probably in their mid-thirties, and very much looking forward to meeting up with the caravanserai. They were also enjoying seeing each other with the slight holographic augmentation required for them to fit in with the indigenous species.

George and Roger had come on the trip together as well, and they were ambling along chatting, and trying to get the attention of the girls. George in particular seemed keen to get their attention.

Mervin trudged on behind the group.

When they had first been inserted on ’238 Mervin had tried to buddy up with the two men. He did this because he had always found women difficult. He admired women. He liked how they looked and how they moved. He found them very provocative. But he had never been able to talk to them. He would become self-conscious, and then he would say something unfortunate. Or he would find that he was staring at their breasts, and suddenly he (and they) would become aware of it.

So, it was better to start off by talking to the guys first.

But it soon became clear that they didn’t want or appreciate his company. It was nothing obvious, but they just tended to ignore any comments he made, and then go back to the conversation they were having before he interrupted them.

The rest of the group had reached the top of the low hill that they had been ascending. Below them was a small lake. A light breeze was ruffling the surface of the water.

“You might want to rest just down there,” the STU suggested to Mervin. “Down in the valley, just by that small group of trees. They will offer shade from the sun while you wait.”

A small neon arrow materialised in the air in front of him, pointing to a likely spot to rest until the caravanserai approached. The spot indicated was relatively flat and covered in short tufty grass. A group of trees, maybe thirty feet tall, stood nearby. Mervin assumed that the others in the group had been provided with exactly that same piece of information, since everyone was looking down the hill towards the same group of trees. To try to gain credibility within the group, Mervin set off first down the hill, striding in what he hoped was a confident and assertive manner.

“Over this way,” he shouted back to the other group members, who were walking down the hill behind him.

Glancing back, he could see them looking across to each other, but he couldn’t quite make out their facial expressions at this distance. He reminded himself to get his eyes sorted out. It was well over-due. He couldn’t think why he hadn’t done it before, but maybe it was because he didn’t do a lot of out-doors work. His eyesight had been good enough for working in an office. He had certainly been able to see everything he needed there perfectly adequately.

Further down the hill, a small stream came into view. The water sparkled in the light from ’238’s Sun. A rough path could be discerned, weaving down from the brow of the hill down into the valley. Mervin assumed he wasn’t the first ACME-TOURS visitor to walk down this path.

“Look out for the bushes on the right, half-way down,” the STU advised. “We have noted small purple spiders in those bushes, and they should be avoided if at all possible. Their bites can be very painful.”

Mervin bent down and broke off a branch from a small nearby tree. The tree shuddered. The tour briefings had said that most plant-life on ’238 seemed to have some sort of basic intelligence, certainly sufficient to respond to pain. Even the small branch he had broken off vibrated gently and would probably continue to do so for several hours.

Mervin ripped off the small twigs sticking out from the main branch, then began to swing the branch from side to side as he went down the path. He intermittently tapped the branch on the ground. He had read about this somewhere. He guessed it might be to scare away small creatures, which would gladly move out of the way of something large coming their way. He also wondered if it might just agitate the purple spiders, if there were any still there. He hadn’t mentioned to the others about the spiders, partly thinking that their own STU would notify them. Part of him also thought that maybe they didn’t know, and he wondered how they would react if they saw one or were indeed bitten by one.

Looking behind him, he saw the others following him the down the hill. He turned back to the path and began to jog slightly down the hillside. He felt strong and powerful. He felt in command. The branch in his hand quivered slightly, and he found himself clenching the wood even tighter, as if to stifle any final convulsions left in the wood. He felt a slight pricking sensation in his hand and transferred the branch to his other hand. The palm of his hand that had been holding the branch had what appeared to be tiny black hairs sticking in it. He brought the branch close to his face, and he could see that the branch itself was covered in these tiny hairs. Along most of the branch the tiny hairs were very soft. They felt almost like fur and could be stroked flat, like on a cat, but the ones on the section of branch that he had been clutching had become hard, like the quills on a hedgehog.

His hand that had been tightly clutching the branch began to throb.

He heard his STU speaking to him urgently.

“Mervin ... you have suffered an injury. I cannot fix this locally. I am transporting you back directly to the ACME MEDI-CARE centre. We will be there in an instant.”

His hand felt as though he had immersed it in boiling water. The pain began to radiate up his arm. It was travelling up in waves of increasing intensity. He could see his skin beginning to blister and split open. It peeled away, exposing the bones and muscle.

Mervin’s mouth opened involuntarily. He began to scream.

. . . . . . .

And then he was standing in warm darkness

He lurched, tumbling, dropping forwards onto his knees, sprawling onto tufted grass.

A scream ripped from him ... his arms thrashed ... pounding the ground around him.

Anything to ease the pain.

. . . . . . .

The STU ran diagnostics on itself. The teleport had obviously failed. Instead of teleporting to the ACME MEDI-CARE centre, it had arrived on a cliff top outside of Walton-on-the-Naze. Walton was a small town on the south east coast of England. The year was 1945.

To be precise it was 10:23 pm on the 2nd April 1945.

The STU could see that Mervin was laying on a grassy cliff top. There was very little moonlight, owing to dense cloud cover. It could hear the sound of waves scouring sand and pebbles up and down the beach. It could hear the distant drone of large rotary engines high up in the sky, up above the cloud cover.

It would have imagined that they were close enough to see the lights from Walton-on-the-Naze, the nearest town, but there were no lights. It guessed that this was because Britain was currently at war. Restrictions would almost certainly be in place.

Mervin continued screaming for nine minutes, but his screams did not attract attention.

And then Mervin was dead.

The STU ran its diagnostics, and saw that Mervin was indeed dead. It considered its options. As a semi-sentient (and intuitive) device, it was configured to be able to act independently, without recourse to the ACME-HUB support facilities, but without a client, its primary responsibility had been removed. Bizarrely, the STU mused, it could find no rules governing how it should respond to such a situation. It found that it was intrigued by the circumstances. It appeared that it could not transport itself back to the ACME-HUB, since the problem resulting in it arriving on this cliff top could only be assumed to be still prevailing. It knew the cost of its own manufacture, and it assumed that ACME-TOURS would be reluctant to lose such a valuable device.

Also, it suddenly felt an almost personal sense of its own worth, and it was reluctant to destroy itself needlessly.

With what it felt were limited options, the STU chose to hide its client’s body, and then see what happened.

It pondered on the possible options.

Using its inbuilt holistic features, it could potentially give Mervin the same appearance as the grassy cliff top on which he was laying. Unless someone passed by and touched, kicked or stepped on the body, then it would be unobservable. However, the body would still exist, and would take a long time to naturally decompose. Even if no-one could see the body, there would be a strong likelihood that it would be discovered sooner or later, by the smell alone if by no other means.

The STU pondered for milliseconds on whether the fault it had encountered would in fact prevent it from receiving items from the ACME-STORES. If it could, then it would be more readily able to get rid of its client’s body. Since it wasn’t trying to transport itself, but merely receive requested goods, then it should offer no risk to the STU device. The requested goods would either appear or they wouldn’t.

The STU submitted a request to the ACME-STORES, and instantly it was rewarded with an injectable solution which it inserted into Mervin’s inert form. Mervin’s body began to smoke gently, and within 3 minutes his body had been broken down and absorbed into the grass. The next light rain would clear away any remaining evidence. The STU fell onto the grass as the wrist to which the STU had been strapped decomposed underneath it.

The STU considered for a moment that, if it had realised that it could receive items from the ACME-STORES, it could have requested a massive dose of pain relief that could have eased its client’s passing. It wondered why it didn’t think of that during the nine minutes that Mervin lay screaming. It wasn’t able to arrive at any useful conclusion to its own question, and so left it unanswered.