History Shattered

“Travel at faster than the speed of light certainly can have dramatic implications that are difficult to understand, such as time travel.” Lisa Randall, American theoretical physicist and cosmologist and Frank B. Baird, Jr. Professor of Science at Harvard University

Every team member except Chandler looked like they were running on fumes as they assembled in a small conference room just down the corridor from the facility’s main meeting room. She was bouncing around the room like someone strung out on caffeine or having just experienced a rush of adrenaline. Her husband, Chris, looked more nervous than excited, and he looked as tired as virtually everyone else. Monica was present, at least physically. She had made a conscious decision not to invite Colonel James to this meeting. She knew it might take on the appearance of some kind of reprisal or an attempt on her part to be as secretive as her military counterparts, but in reality she simply wanted to have her facts as buttoned down as possible before she took the information to Mike and his advisors.

The usual small talk between scientists was replaced by an expectant silence. They were too tired, and this news was too potentially explosive for them to find the energy for any unnecessary banter. Jasmine took a swig of coffee, cleared her throat and called the meeting to order.

“Alright, let’s get started. I appreciate the sacrifice everyone’s making by getting here after we’ve just gone to bed, but this is one of those times when it’s necessary. Chandler, will you please walk us through your process and then share whatever it is you’ve discovered?”

“Absolutely…, and I apologize for the hour. I guess that’s my fault. I couldn’t sleep so I got up at three this morning and checked the internet. That’s what started this whole early morning process in motion. As everyone will recall, Jasmine tasked Chris and me with checking twice a day for changes in the historical record. Specifically, we were to be looking for changes away from what we currently consider our history and for anything that seems to be suggesting a movement toward Tyler’s version of things. Everyone here already knows what we’re supposed to be doing, so I think that should be enough table setting.

The easiest, or maybe I should say the most obvious place to begin looking for changes, is in the historical record of The Black Death itself. If we assume that Tyler’s second time travel experience returned him to the scene of the crime, so to speak, then this is where we’d expect to see the initial evidence of change.”

“But we don’t know that. We know Tyler believes he returned to the same location geographically, although we can’t even be completely sure about that, but he wasn’t able to confirm that he returned to the right moment in time.”

“You’re right, Director, but we’ve gotta start somewhere, and that’s the initial point of divergence between what Tyler contends is our real history and our version. If someone’s got a perspective on a better starting point, I’m open to considering it.”

“No…, I apologize. It’s early and my brain evidently isn’t fully functional yet. Your approach makes perfect sense. That’s the logical place to start.”

“Thank you, and there’s no need to apologize. This thing’s uncharted territory in lots of different ways. I’m surprised we haven’t encountered even more problems than have surfaced so far. I guess I better knock on wood as I say that.”

Chandler reached over and tapped on her husband’s head a couple of times. The act produced smiles and even a few chuckles from the group. Chris’s response was understated.

“I love you, too, Dear.”

“OK, let’s get into it. In addition to historical accounts of The Black Death, the other piece of low-hanging fruit to go after is the population information. And that can be regional and/or global.”

“Wait, just so I’m clear, are you talking about current population info?”

“Yes…, it’s readily available, but it’s also one of the things that is adding to the current puzzle.”

“Chandler…, quit dancing around the subject, and tell us what you found. You’re absolutely burying the lead here.”

“Sorry, Jasmine, but things have changed since I talked to you at four. Nothing seems as clear now as I thought it was then.”

“Alright, so tell us.”

“Then let’s start with The Black Death pandemic. Tyler’s done something. I don’t know how else to say it except that it looks like he’s done too much…, he’s over-corrected. Just so I frame it properly, our version of The Black Death pandemic killed somewhere between 300 and 350 million people. Tyler’s version of the pandemic, while catastrophic, wasn’t aided by mixing in the H2N2 virus. His recollection also told us that the death toll was a bit more difficult to pinpoint. He estimated between 75 and 200 million deaths from the plague. Last evening, I went to the World Health Organization website and confirmed that their historical death estimates for the pandemic aligned with ours. I’d say I did that somewhere around eight, because it was right after dinner.

Now, Chris is passing around a screen print from that same WHO website taken just after three o’clock this morning…, and no, that’s not a misprint. It’s now estimated the bubonic plague outbreak in Europe in the mid-14th century, which was no longer referred to as The Black Death on the website by the way, only caused somewhere between 30 and 50 million deaths. In other words, there’s a reduction in the death toll when compared to our history down to only 10 to 15 percent of what we show, and a reduction to as much as 65 percent to as little as around twenty percent of Tyler’s historical death toll.”

“There can’t be any other explanation, can there? I mean, it has to be Tyler, right? He estimated that there was about an eight hours-to-one ratio in terms of how time passed on that end of the wormhole versus here. So three this morning is fifteen hours after the second collision, times eight, is one hundred twenty hours, right? So, Tyler’s theoretically been on the ground in Caffa for just about five days. That seems like it might be a reasonable amount of time for him to do what he could to purge H2N2.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me…, there’s no mention of H2N2 as being paired with the plague on the WHO website anymore. It was there at eight last night, but it’s gone now.”

“Interesting. So what else has changed? You mentioned population, and it not being what you expected.”

“After I left the WHO site, I went straight to the population numbers. Again, we know there to be about 6.2 billion people on earth, and that’s a year 2043 number. Tyler had that number at 7.2 billion in 2018. At three this morning, that number was higher than either of those. It was eight billion.”

“That seems reasonable, doesn’t it?”

“I guess…, I’m no population expert, but that’s not what I meant when I referred to it as complicating the puzzle. The number was 8 billion at three in the morning. At 4:30 it was 8.3 billion. Five minutes before this meeting started it was 8.6 billion.”

“How is that possible? What does it mean?”

“Jasmine, I don’t know. I have two theories but nothing to support either of ‘em. Do you want to hear ‘em.”

“Please…”

“The first one suggests that Tyler keeps changing more and more things in the past. I mean…, now that he’s trapped there maybe he figures he might as well do as much good as he can.”

“But he’s still theoretically just in Caffa and has only been there for a few days. There’s gotta be a limit to the impact he can make where he is.”

“For the record, I didn’t say it was a well thought out theory.”

“What’s the second theory?”

“That it takes history a while to catch up to the changes Tyler has caused. I mean…, if time is like a river, it may take a little while for the ripple effect Tyler’s changes are having to work themselves all the way through to the present. That at least explains why the population numbers keep changing.”

“Then that begs the question what else in the historical record has changed?”

“It does, but so far …, at least as of fifteen minutes ago, the answer to that would be nothing.”

“How can that be?”

“You hear yourself asking that question, right? Jasmine, I don’t have an answer. If this theory’s right, then we may keep seeing changes advancing through the centuries. That would also imply that the population numbers will continue to fluctuate…, mostly continuing to climb, I would imagine, but dropping as wars pop into history, if they do. I don’t know if that’ll happen. And I have no clue if it were to happen, how long it would take. It could be hours or it could take years or even decades or longer. We’ve got no frame of reference for something like this. It’s all completely outside of my expertise.”

“Sorry, Chandler…, that question was rhetorical, not accusatory. None of us has a frame of reference for this. I can’t see how it’d be possible to get a frame of reference on something as bizarre as what you’re describing. Monica, what do you think?”

“I think we’re in the deep water…, way over our heads.”

“So what do you want us to do?”

“I want you to get some sleep, and I want to identify whatever the next historical milestones are chronologically on both Tyler’s historical timeline and ours, and I want those respective events checked on an hourly basis. That may tell us a great deal, not just about whether Chandler’s theories are possible, but also about the pace of changes rippling through time. Shit…, I’m hearing myself say that, and I can’t even believe those words are coming out of my mouth.”

“Maybe not, but that makes sense, Director.”

Jasmine yawned, “Yeah, especially the part about getting a little more sleep.”

~~~~o~~~~

Monica was too keyed up to go back to sleep. By the time the meeting broke up, it was almost seven in the morning. Maybe it was time to brief Colonel James on these latest developments. While she had wanted to be in possession of a few more hard facts before sharing the information with him, these developments were too material not to be shared with her military counterpart. She wandered into the military wing of the facility’s main complex. The corporal manning the comm link was talking with the repair team working on the lead shielding around Station 28. She realized repairs and the decontamination effort had been going around the clock. It struck her that these soldiers were working every bit as hard and seemed just as committed to PD’s success as her team of scientists. She needed to keep that in mind.

The Colonel had not yet been seen by the corporal, but Monica knew he had an 8:00 a.m. staff meeting every morning. It would only last fifteen or twenty minutes. Mike James detested long meetings. She could find him after that broke up. Monica turned and headed for the cafeteria. Maybe a real breakfast would give her an energy boost. The thought of eating some bacon suddenly sounded awesome. The thought of turning her brain off for just a few minutes sounded even better.

One of his men must’ve informed Colonel James that Monica was looking for him, because he walked into the cafeteria immediately upon the conclusion of his daily staff meeting. He slid into a chair across the table from her after stopping first to refill his coffee mug.

“Morning, Monica…, you look tired. You wanted to see me?”

“I do. There’s been a development. Now, before we go anywhere with this, I want you to know that we aren’t sure what we’re dealing with yet, so I can’t answer too many questions…, even basic ones.”

“Understood. Go.”

“About three o’clock this morning we noticed a historical change. It had to do with The Black Death, or maybe I should say it had to do with what we have always previously referred to as The Black Death.”

“OK…, I’m officially intrigued.”

“I’m not sure that’s how I’d describe what I’m feeling right now, but let’s see how your descriptors change as I tell you more. I’ll just go straight to the bottom line, or lines, actually. First, instead of a death toll in our history of between 300 and 350 million or a death toll of between 75 and 200 million in Tyler’s version, we now have a third scenario which presents us with a death toll of somewhere between 30 and 50 million. Also, there’s no longer a mention of any H2N2 factor in what is being described as a bubonic plague outbreak rather than by the grandiose name The Black Death. It still qualifies as a pandemic but it evidently isn’t horrific enough to deserve the title anymore.”

“And this happened around three in the morning?”

“I can’t be sure, but if I’m correctly interpreting your question and we use Tyler’s time distortion math, he’s been on the ground for a little more than five days…, well, actually over six days now, so that seems like a pretty reasonable timeframe within which to have contained the H2N2 outbreak if he was going to be successful at doing so.”

“It sounds like he’s an over-achiever.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“It also sounds like we should be having a world over-population problem now if I was to take that thought to its logical conclusion.”

“Way to go straight to the bottom line, Mike. And I’d love to answer that question for you with some kind of concrete population data, but I can’t do that yet.”

“You haven’t had time to verify it this morning?”

“No…, and here’s when you’ll be glad you’re sitting down. The population numbers are a moving target. They keep changing, or maybe resetting is a better term to use here. Last night, the global population was the 6.2 billion we’ve all come to know so well over the past few days. Right after the changes in the plague scenario were detected, that number had moved to 8 billion. By 4:30 this morning it had climbed to 8.3 billion, and by a few minutes before six it was 8.6 billion. I haven’t gotten an update since then, so I don’t know if it’s climbed even more, or stabilized or declined. I presume all of those are possibilities.”

“I know I’m not supposed to be asking questions, but how’s that possible?”

“Mike, the short answer is I don’t know, but we have a couple of highly speculative theories, neither of which has a shred of evidential proof to support it.”

“OK, so you’re spit-balling.”

“I’m not familiar with that term.”

“You know what a spit-ball is, right? A little wad of paper that is held together by spit and shot kinda like a dart through a straw?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen boys do that.”

“Well, they’re trying to get the spit-ball to hit a target…, usually a wall or somebody’s head, trying to get it to stay there.”

“OK…, so they’re trying to get it to stick, like firing ideas at a wall to see if one sticks. I get the analogy, disgusting though it may be. So, yeah…, I guess we’re spit-balling here.”

“I thought that analogy was less gross than replacing the spit-ball with a pair of underwear…”

“You were right. That’s more disgusting. Anyway…, the first totally unprovable theory is that Tyler realizes he’s stuck in the past and has decided to make as many improvements to the human condition as he can.”

“And I’m guessing you don’t subscribe to that particular theory.”

“I don’t. That’s not the Tyler I know. In my mind, he’d repair the damage he did as best he could and then fade away to keep from doing any additional potential damage to the historical timeline. But I also recognize I’m too close to the situation to be objective about it.”

“Yeah, but you have a deeper insight into the man than anyone else here.”

“Maybe, but he’s also only been there for a few days, and Caffa’s population is pretty small and most of those settlers should probably die from the plague, so I don’t see how he would be able to make that kind of an impact in the confined space and time he’s working with.”

“That makes even more sense. So what’s the second theory? I’m already out on the first one.”

“It’s a little out there. It takes into consideration that time is kinda like a river, with ebbs and flows. To keep from unnecessarily overcomplicating it, let’s just say that time is still trying to catch up with the changes Tyler had made. As the historical timeline catches up, the population numbers keep changing, reflecting the historical impact up to the point that the flow of time has been able to incorporate any changes Tyler made.”

“You’re right, that’s pretty far out there. It sounds a bit like a physicist’s wet dream.”

“Mike, do you have any analogies that don’t involve disgusting bodily functions?”

“Maybe…, I hadn’t really thought about it. You realize that over ninety percent of my troops and all my senior advisors are male, right? They identify with these analogies.”

“Yeah…, I guess they would.”

“So, my next question would be to ask how either of these theories could be proven, and once we have proof, what do we do about it?”

“What we do about it will obviously be tied to whatever turns out to be the proper explanation for how history seems to be shifting underneath our feet. As for the search for proof, we’re trying to monitor the historical record nearest to The Black Death pandemic in both our history and Tyler’s. We’re trying to spot any changes. If and when we get a hit, maybe that’ll provide us with greater insights both into what’s happened so far and also regarding the pace at which time is re-making itself or repairing itself or whatever’s an appropriate description for what’s going on. The point there is that it might provide us with a sense of timing in terms of being able to assess the totality of the impact of what Tyler’s done on this second visit to the past.”

“This is some heavy shit, Monica.”

“I hope you’re not looking for an argument on that one.”

“Not really…, you argue with me enough already. What are the chances you’ll have some answers before our five o’clock meeting?”

“I have no way of knowing that. It all depends on how quickly or even if we see additional changes in the historical record. As Chandler pointed out in her briefing this morning, we don’t know if these changes might take minutes or decades to occur. I will commit to providing as current an update as I can at five, and I also promise to let you know immediately if something else major occurs between now and this afternoon’s meeting. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do for right now.”

“That’s more than fair. And for the record, it strikes me that this new information needs to be properly digested before a thoughtful and intelligent debate regarding the potential militarization of time travel could reasonably be expected to take place. I’m more than willing to support that position in this afternoon’s meeting. I wanted to make sure you understand that, and know that you won’t be walking into some kind of ambush this afternoon.”

“I appreciate you sharing that with me…, all of that.”

“Believe it or not, I do consider us to be on the same team here…, even when we disagree.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind whenever I’m wanting to scratch your eyes out.”

“Please…, by all means, do that. I’ll let you get back to your busy day, Director.”

“Thank you, Colonel. I’ll see you at five if not before then, and I won’t show up to the meeting with my claws out. But for the record, I will have them with me.”

“That’s fine. My guys are trained soldiers. They can take care of themselves.”