Little Black Book

There’s a narrow corridor, with the faint sounds of rumbling and chaos approaching. The quality of wood on the floor and walls is a dead giveaway that this is an old, worn out ship at sea. Statements like “It’s him!” and “It was him the entire time! He’s over here” become gradually louder. A man in decrepit, gothic clothing slams into a wall at the end of the corridor as he turns the corner. He is fumbling down the hallway in exhaustion, as the rough boat crew members close in on him. The white dress shirt underneath his brown vest is badly worn out, and filthy. He sprints to the end of the hall, where the captain’s quarters are located. Busting open the door, the captain turns to him. The man strikes the captain with the last bit of energy he has left, knocking him to the ground. For some reason, he is frantically searching for a writing utensil. “Quill, where’s a quill….come on”, the man says. The messy table is violently cleared of contents, exposing only a quill and ink. The man pulls out a little black notebook. He is shaken, desperately trying to remain composed enough to dip the quill. He begins to write in the journal as fast as he can, while simultaneously looking up at the doorway. The crew is getting close. The man tries to get his thoughts together as writes the finishing touch in his journal. The captain starts to regain consciousness, grunting as he opens and closes his eyes. The man notices, and gets one last dip in the ink before he backs up against the wall. Crew members obliterate the door from vicious entry and see their downed captain loading his gun to shoot his attacker, and they direct their weapons towards the man. During this moment, the man adds his final scratch to the notebook. He quickly looks at the crew with wide eyes, then the captain, then at an object on the floor that causes a slight crack of a smile. It’s a spilled bag of gold coins. He grabs it, and as soon as they open fire on him, he vanishes.

The man reawakens anew, starring at a handful of cash. It seems to be $20,000.00 worth. His arm is now covered in a black tuxedo sleeve, instead of worn pirate attire. He is caught off guard only for a moment, but shakes it off and looks up to discover his new surroundings. He is at a Gatsbyesque style party, about to hand the $20,000.00 to the dealer at a craps table. “20k for the handsome fella at the side pass line”, the dealer says. The man is on edge, while remaining in character. The beautiful woman at his side appears to know this man well, but he does not know her. In fact, he doesn’t know a single person at this event. The dealer passes him the dice. “Shooters up”, the dealer says. The man is scanning his surroundings, as he continues to blend in. He throws the dice to the back table wall, but his eyes are glued to the background. He is scanning for threats. “We got a 6”, says the dealer as everyone erupts with excitement. The girl gives the man an enthusiastic shake, and he snaps back into the game. Everyone at the table is starring at him with large, somewhat creepy smiles. He throws the dice again. “Roller gets an 8. Good roll.” announces the dealer. The table erupts with excitement while the man is once again, distracted and hardly paying attention. The loud ambience of the table abruptly stops. It’s so jarring to the man’s senses, that he finally redirects his focus to the table. They are starring at him with frozen smiles again, more intensely. They do not budge or make a sound. The man realizes his presence has been discovered. The only movement at the table now is the dealer slowly pushing the dice to him, with a frightening smirk. “You have to finish the play”, says the dealer. The man quickly throws the dice, and gets a 7. Everyone’s face shifts instantaneously to a frown. They remain still…maintaining an unbroken stare. He grabs his chips and shoves them in his pocket as he exits the table without looking back. The woman who was once glued to his side, is now blankly watching the man leave. Without hesitation he hurriedly walks towards the bathroom. As he navigates through the party, the heads of individuals turn towards him like fibers surrounding a magnet. Some even begin to walk in his direction. He passes the doorman at the bathroom entrance, and receives a nasty look. The man sprints into a stall and locks the door. He takes out the little black notebook, along with a pen in his front pocket. As he writes in the journal, a mob begins to grow outside the bathroom. Threats are heard by the man. “He’s in there” and “He thought we wouldn’t notice” stand out the most. The door opens as a mass heard of people start to enter. The man once again, disappears.

The man re-materializes once again. He is in the far, distant future. He takes a quick look at his digital wallet, and it reads “20,000.00”. He is a bit more at ease, and relatively pleased with himself. He takes a look around at the imposing architecture, technology, and new travel methods. There is a rough, neon aesthetic to the city. “They are finding me in less time each jump. Need to slow down” he says. He looks at his ID, and decides to head to this current vessels address to lay low.

He arrives at a grungy, cyberpunk apartment building. Approaching his apartment door, he reaches in his pocket for keys and finds nothing. He checks his clothing twice and finds nothing that can be of use. The man focuses on the door and sees a small black, circular screen where the door knob would be. He puts his hand near it, and it lights up. The door clicks open. The door closes behind him, and not even two steps later he is hit with a powerful strike. Everything goes black.

The man wakes up delusional, with glassy eyes. He overhears discussion, but is too bleary to know what is happening.

“It’s him. We’ve been able to locate him.”

“Yeah, we confirmed it.”

“I can wait, sure. We’ll keep him sedated in the meantime”

The man’s vision fades to black again. Time passes.

“Allen. Allen open your eyes” a woman says.

The man barely opens his eyes and mutters, “It’s….is it….you?”. She responds, “yes, we have to go”. It fades to black again. Every time his senses briefly return, he sees evidence of what’s just occurred or is occurring. Glimpses of unconscious guards and damage to the facility. Seeing his arm over the woman as she helps walk him through the building. “Just a bit longer”, she says with encouragement as she checks the corner with a firearm. He passes back out completely, only to awaken to the woman’s voice again. “Ok we’re safe now, come with me”, she says as she looks back at him from the driver’s seat. They are somewhere desolate. A city that once was, and is now empty and destroyed. They walk into a building that looks to be nothing more than old rubble on the outside. On the inside, is an underground fallout shelter that was clearly developed by a high level survivalist. They sit down, and the woman speaks to Allen.

“We’re the only ones left Allen.”

He looks devastated. “They found Duke and Chinook?” he says. She nods with sadness.

The walls are covered with investigative material. Stories with headlines like….

“Time Travel Potentially Possible?”, “Dr. Gorden Close to Developing Time Travel Mechanism”, “Dr. Gorden Accused of Crimes Against Humanity”, “Government Seizes All of Dr. Gordons Assets?!”

“Government releases tracking technology throughout all of history, with help of AI….”

A snippet of a government statement is in Allen’s view. “All individuals caught with time travel devices will be executed immediately, and devices confiscated.”

The woman speaks up. “They have eyes on all of history. Using his technology, these trackers can transmit information forward and backward in time. Most of these trackers now exist inside every significant human throughout history, with the ability to alter their behavior. Their plan to manipulate history itself, is terrifyingly close.”

She takes a moment. “They cannot fully execute this plan without eliminating us first. However, at this point there are few places left we can go without them noticing. ”

Allen looks at her with concern. She continues, “He never meant for this to happen. Our Shifting Tomes are the only ones that government scouters can’t pick up. That’s because they’re not digital.”

Allen responds, “I guess we have dad to thank for giving us the first two prototypes”.

The woman smiles. “We’ve allowed this to drag out long enough. I thought it could be salvaged for a little longer, and that we’d have more time to study humanity like dad intended. Or in your case, more time to have fun.”

“We have to go back to the beginning, where it all started, and end it.”

Allen looks at his digital wallet one last time, with the “20,000.00” sitting on the screen. He looks back up at her.

“Yeah, you’re right.”….”Let’s go sis.”

They look at eachother for a moment, and start writing in their notebooks. They disappear.