Acme Time Travel Incorporated - Volume 2

The ACME INC HUB

Just under two years later, the starship arrived at the ACME-HUB orbiting satellite. Gabriel and Ginny had been asleep in their CrYO-PODS. They had been woken two days earlier. Just time to get refreshed, to get a shower, to eat some food.

“Arriving at the ACME-HUB in five minutes,” Ship advised.

“Have you heard any response from them?” Ginny asked.

“Nothing,” said Ship. “Which is curious. Normally they are very aware of incoming craft. They normally provide docking information and so-on. But I’ve received no transmissions. It’s as though there is no-one there.”

Ginny looked across at Gabriel. They could see the space station now visually. It looked just as it had the last time they came here.

“I guess we just find an empty docking stub,” Ginny said.

“They are all registering as empty,” Ship noted.

“Ok, Ship. Just pick one then,” Ginny said.

“We are close to stub 4, so I will dock there.”

“Ok, thanks Ship,” Ginny said.

. . . . . . . .

“Well, at least the atmosphere has been maintained,” Ginny said.

They had walked down a myriad of corridors, all well-lit, but they had met no-one.

“Looks like the lights are on, but there’s nobody home,” Gabriel said.

“The crew quarters are down here, to the left,” Vicky said. “You may be advised to take care. We don’t know whether the remaining crew have orders concerning you guys or not.”

Gabriel and Ginny slowed down, walking softly and quietly. Gabriel didn’t know what they would do if they in fact met anyone.

“Through this door,” Vicky said.

A sign on the door read ‘Authorised Personnel Only’.

Ginny pushed the door open slowly, peering through the gap.

“There’s nobody in there,” she said.

They were standing in what looked like a communal rest room. A few comfy chairs. Some wall-mounted plasma screens. Two tables with six plastic chairs each. A small kitchen. All of it seemingly unused for quite some time.

Ginny ran her finger along the kitchen worktop. She inspected her finger.

“I can’t see any dust, but I don’t suppose that you get a lot of dust up here anyway,” she said.

“Let’s try the comms room,” Vicky suggested. “It’s down that corridor on your left.”

A small green neon arrow appeared in the air, pointing in the direction that Vicky described.

They walked cautiously down the corridor, arriving at a door marked ‘COMMS’.

“I can hear something,” Gabriel said. “Something very faint ... can’t think what it might be though.”

Ginny pushed the door open.

“Another empty room,” she said, “but at least this one’s still operational, from the look of it.”

The comms room was maybe sixty feet by thirty feet. It was dimply lit, with a soft blue light from the ceiling. The room was stacked with screens and keyboards. Several of the screens were active. Ginny walked over to the nearest lit-up screen.

“It shows the docking bays,” she said. “Look. It’s got our starship on it. Stub 4 shows as ‘docked’.”

Gabriel glanced over at the screen. Sure enough, stub 4 showed as ‘docked’, and in small letters underneath the screen was noted the type of craft their starship was. “It’s the only one that is being used,” he said.

An adjacent screen seemed to be broken up into small sections, each showing an area of the ACME-HUB.

“Seen this?” said Gabriel. “It’s like CCTV cameras ... there’s nobody anywhere.”

Ginny turned back to the door. “C’mon,” she said. “There must be some information left behind somewhere.”

Gabriel followed on behind. She had turned down a corridor and stepped into a door at random. She went in. Gabriel followed.

“It’s just somebody’s room,” she said, looking at a small room containing just a bed, some shelves, a wall-mounted screen and a couple of books.

“Turn the screen on,” suggested Vicky. “It would be a crew entertainment facility, plus it would have had crew info.”

Ginny pushed the only button on the screen’s surround, and immediately it lit up; a pale pink background, with a slowly spinning 3D ACME INC logo.

“How do you ...?” Ginny said.

“Hold your hand up towards the screen,” Vicky suggested.

Gabriel held his hand in the direction of the screen. He moved his hand around, then moved his fingers around. Out of the various gestures he was making, something prompted the screen to display a menu.

Ginny looked at the menu options with disgust. “For God’s sake,” she said. “Look at that.”

The screen showed

Hot Porn

Comedy

Romance

ACME news

“I wonder just how many crew members watched the comedy vids?” Ginny said.

“Or the romance,” said Gabriel.

“Let’s look at the ACME news,” Vicky said.

Gabriel gestured at the screen, which clicked open the Hot Porn menu option. He flailed his hand around as a series of vid titles appeared, each with a small thumbprint showing a trailer of what to expect.

“Gabriel ... what the fuck are you ...?” Ginny said.

“Sorry, Ginny, it was first on the menu, and I still don’t know how to work this bloody ...”

The top level of menu re-appeared, and Gabriel breathed a visible sigh of relief.

“Make slow gestures,” Vicky suggested. “Treat it like when you used to use Barney’s cell phone. Remember when you used it to take pictures. Slow pulls and drags.”

Gabriel tried again. The ‘ACME News’ option became high-lit, and he managed to select it. The screen showed a series of bulleted items, each identified by a number, a date, plus a small resume of the content.

“I should scroll down to the items dated from the 5th September 2180,” Vicky said. “All the items before that date happened before the coordinates were corrupted.”

“Let’s try this one, then,” Gabriel said.

He opened up an item dated the 5th September 2180, with the description ‘coords corruption’.

The screen showed Director Swan. He was in close-up. He looked very nervous. There was sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Swan said, “This is an urgent notification that the COORDS-HUB has been found to have been corrupted. The corruption, caused by person or persons unknown, probably occurred several days ago. This information is to be treated as extremely confidential. We have shut down WORM-LYNK to prevent each client’s STU from accessing the faulty coordinates, but we know that some clients will have already started to make their way back.”

Swan stopped. He was looking at something or someone to his left. He nodded, then looked back to the camera.

“They have not appeared back at the HUB,” he resumed. “We have no idea where they might be. The inference is that they are likely to be at the very least missing, or ... or more likely dead. We will need to ... we will need to ...”

The transmission stopped.

“Blood hell,” said Gabriel.

“Try the next one,” said Ginny.

The next news item was dated the 6th September 2180. It was titled ’WORM-LYNK.

Gabriel clicked it open. The screen showed what looked like a female reporter in a newsroom. She seemed to be reading a report of current events. This seemed to be just a short clip taken from a longer broadcast.

The girl said “... and ACME TOURS have advised that they have taken their WORM-LYNK comms down for a brief period. They stress that this is a routine piece of maintenance work, and that no-one should be affected by this work. And now onto ...”

The short clip ended.

“I guess that that was ACME trying to give some gloss to cover up ...,” Gabriel said.

“I bet somebody squealed,” Ginny interrupted. “I bet somebody somewhere let the media know that there was a problem, and that forced ACME’s hand. They had to put something out there, otherwise ...”

Gabriel opened up the next item, dated 7th September 2180, titled ‘For your eyes only’.

It was Swan again. He looked very frightened. He looked to be almost shaking.

He said, “There’s thirty-eight of the fuckers out there. Fifteen we already know haven’t come back. We’re fuc ...”

The clip ended.

Gabriel looked across at Ginny.

“This is like watching the Titanic go down, isn’t it?” he said.

Ginny nodded.

The next item was dated 9th September 2180, titled ‘Truth at last’.

It was the newsroom girl again. “Fears have been raised by family and friends of the ACME TOURS clients currently missing. ACME INC have refused to comment. They are seemingly very unwilling to provide further information on what appears to be an unfolding catastrophe.”

Gabriel opened up the next two items; items dated from the 10th and the 11th of September. They comprised interviews with family members from the lost clients. Several people were suggesting raising legal actions against ACME TOURS.

“Those people look very wealthy indeed,” Gabriel said. “Did you see the houses they live in? They look like they could easily afford to sue ACME INC.”

“ACME clients have to be very wealthy,” Vicky said. “Only the richest people could afford to take such trips. The people missing would be prominent business-people, leaders of countries, ...”

“And prominent criminals as well, I would guess,” said Ginny.

“You are probably correct,” said Vicky.

The item dated 13th September was titled ‘Corporate manslaughter charges raised’.

“That one seems self-evident,” said Ginny.

The following item, dated 19th September 2180, was titled ‘killing rage’.

Gabriel opened it up. Another newsroom, a male reporter this time.

“The investigative team sent to the ACME-HUB have just released a statement saying that it would appear that Director Charles Swan, head of ACME TOURS’s data security, a man of previously stable disposition, seemingly ran amok yesterday. He appears to have shot and killed two members of the HUB’s security team before turning his gun on himself. The investigators state that their early supposition is that he may have corrupted the coordinates database himself, before setting off on his killing spree. They wish to state, however, that it is far too early to confirm this.”

The news reader looked up directly into the camera, as though complicit with the families affected by the drama.

“This reporter is sure that the family members out there directly affected by this unfolding drama will be staying tuned to this channel for the events as they unfold. And now on to ...”

Ginny looked over at Gabriel.

“So that’s how they played it then,” she said.

Gabriel opened up the next item, dated 5th October 2180, titled ‘regrets and condolences’.

It was another newsroom report. The girl again.

“And here,” she said, “we have a statement from Mr Dmitry Alexandrovich, Admin Director for ACME TOURS. Over to you, Mr Dmitry.”

The newsroom cut over to a well-dressed man sitting at a very large desk. He seemed to be sitting in a room where the whole back wall was a giant window. It was looking out over a cityscape, but his office was higher than most of the other buildings in sight. The man looked to be in his 50s. He looked stocky. Very close-cropped hair.

“Looks a bit of a thug to me,” Gabriel ventured.

“Shush,” Ginny said.

Dmitry started talking. He appeared to be reading from a script ... from something laying on his desk.

“The investigative team sent to look into the situation at ACME TOURS has delivered its findings,” Dmitry said.

His voice was calm, very deep. He sounded very sincere.

“They have said that they cannot be 100% sure, but they believe that the likelihood is that Director Charles Swan ...”

Dmitry paused, then looked up directly into the camera.

“Director Charles Swan,” he resumed, with a slight shake in his voice, “a work colleague who I have known ... known and trusted, for many years, ... that he ... that he wilfully corrupted the ACME TOURS database of coordinates.”

Dmitry stopped, as if to give himself time to collect himself.

“Perhaps,” he resumed, “I can be blamed for putting too much faith, too much trust, into someone who I worked with for so long. It would seem that he let us ... he let me ... down. I can only offer my regrets and condolences to those clients and their families affected by this sad event.”

The transmission clicked off.

“He’s very good,” said Ginny.

“How do you mean?” Gabriel said.

“That was a virtuoso performance, Gabriel. Not a dry eye in the house, as they used to say.”

Gabriel clicked on the next item, dated 3rd November 2180, titled ‘gone bust’.

It was the girl reporter again.

“It would seem,” she said, “that lack of confidence in ACME TOUR’s capacity to manage its own security features, plus the strong likelihood that at least some its ‘lost clients’ have died, has meant that no-one is prepared to use its travel service. ACME TOURS has not run a tour since the drama unfolded. Pre-booked trips have all been cancelled and no-one has booked anything since. ACME TOURS has now formally gone into receivership.”

The transmission ended.

“So, if it’s gone bust, how come we still manage to get requested items, then?” Gabriel asked, clicking on to the last news item on the menu.

It was dated 4th December 2180, titled ‘missing clients – where are they now?’

A different newsroom. A different girl reporter.

“And now, under agreement with the relatives of the lost tourists, the ACME Corporation has been forced to set up a ‘safety net facility’. One which provides food and equipment to any ‘lost tourists’ who may still be alive.”

The girl reporter looked up directly into the camera.

“You should remember,” she said, “that no evidence has been found to suggest that those lost are indeed dead. They may still be alive. For this reason, it would seem, the charges of corporate manslaughter have all been dropped.”

The reporter paused to blink back a tear.

“But ... it may be that some of them, even if only one of them ... even if only one of them is still alive, then ... just maybe ... they could find their way back home. The COORDS-HUB was repaired on the 3rd October. Now with this new ‘safety net facility’ that has been set up, provisioned as it is with enough food and equipment to keep those poor lost souls ... well ... there is always hope. And now onto ...”

“God, she was milking that one,” Ginny said.

“Well, at least now we know why we keep getting the requests actioned,” said Gabriel. “And also, we know that they fixed the coordinates on the 3rd October 2180.”

“We should let Sara and Zackery know,” Ginny said. “Vicky, can you patch us through to them. I guess that Sara is still wearing the STU that Swan gave her.”

“I’ll call her up,” Vicky said.

“Any luck?” said Gabriel.

“They aren’t responding,” Vicky said.

“Is there anything that …?” Gabriel said.

“I can connect directly through to their STU,” Vicky said. “It doesn’t require any action on their part.”

“And ...?” Gabriel said.

“I’ve connected to their STU,” Vicky said. “And ... and ...”

“What is it, Vicky?” Ginny said.

“Their STU has advised me that ... that Zackery and Sara were the victims of a fly-by shooting. Zackery was killed. Sara was seriously injured. She has brain damage. It cannot be repaired.”

Ginny sat down on the bed. She had gone waxy pale.

“She can barely speak. She cannot look after herself. She is living in a long-term care home. There is seemingly no hope of recovery.”

Gabriel sat down next to Ginny and tried to hold her hand, but she pulled her hand away.

“Her STU has sent us a panoramic recording of the incident. Do you want me to play it for you?”

Gabriel nodded.

An image appeared on the wall of the room.

Sara and Zackery were sitting at a roadside table outside some little café. They were drinking coffee. A lady was pushing a buggy along towards them.

The lady stopped and sat at an adjacent table. She pulled her buggy towards her and clamped on the brakes. She leaned in and lifted her baby out. It was very small; just a few months old. She cuddled the baby to her chest, holding one hand behind its head.

Zackery and Sara were watching the lady with the baby. Zackery half-stood up. He leaned across and kissed Sara on the forehead.

Sara smiled.

A small ramstat flyer came up the road. As it pulled alongside the café it appeared to slow down. The man sitting on the passenger side pointed a gun out of his window.

He fired. A loose burst, not very accurate.

The lady with the baby fell backwards, her baby falling to the ground in front of her.

Zackery stood up but was instantly thrown backwards. His chest had been ripped open.

Sara’s head jerked back forcibly. She fell to the ground.

People around started screaming.

The flyer moved slowly away. The driver appeared to be in no hurry.

The panoramic vid screen dissolved.

Ginny broke into a flood of tears.

“Vicky?” Gabriel said.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“Can you rewind it ... can you get a close-up of the guys in the flyer?”

The scene rolled backwards, pausing at the point when the gunman looked out of the window and raised the gun.

“It’s Smythe,” Gabriel said.

Ginny looked up.

“It’s fucking Smythe,” he repeated. “The HUB security guy.”

“Vicky?” Ginny said.

“Yes, Ginny?”

“We can’t use the starship to go backwards in time, can we?”

“No, Ginny.”

“But now that the coordinates database is fixed, you could take us back in time couldn’t you ... back to place that Sara and Zackery were shot?”

“Yes, I could, Ginny, if that is what you want. And, in case you were wondering, I can extend the teleport containment envelope wide enough to include you both. You don’t need to each be wearing a STU to time jump.”

Gabriel sat, unspeaking. He had seen their friends die. He couldn’t think what to do or what to say.

“Ok, Vicky,” Ginny said. “I think we’ve seen as much as we need to see here. I think it’s time to go back.”

Ginny stood up. She looked down at Gabriel, still sitting on the bed. She held out her hand to him.

He took it gladly. She pulled him up off the bed.

“C’mon Gabriel. Let’s get our gear off the ship and get going.”

“And maybe say goodbye to the ship,” said Gabriel. “We won’t be seeing it again, and it’s done us alright.”

“Yeah, sure Gabriel,” Ginny said. She could see that he was in a state of shock.

“You’re a bit of a softy, aren’t you,” she said, “even in these hard times.”

“Just as well,” said Gabriel. “All of these times seem very hard. They don’t seem to be getting less hard. I just try to do what gets me through each day.”

Ginny looked at Gabriel. She knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but maybe now wasn’t the time to say it anyway.